#but u space out and get slower and slower

[dakusan]

Under the weather, under their care.

stray kids ot8 x reader | comfort, sick day fluff

🌙 synopsis: you’re sick. your head hurts, your throat’s sore, and your body feels like it’s made of led. lucky for you, the boys don’t take your sick days lightly. from dad-mode chan to chaotic nurse han, here’s how each member would react to you being under the weather.

💌 a/n: I made this upon request, @cybergracie, she's sick, I HOPE U GET WELL BESTIE 🥺. this is a fluff-heavy, comfort-core piece. each member is written with personality accuracy in mind—not just idealized bf fluff, but the actual way they’d show care in their own unique ways. also: please imagine han beatboxing your fever away. thanks. ps. reblogs = love

📍credits: @cafekitsune for the divider

🎶 Now Playing: "Still With You" — Jung Kook

Bang Chan // 방찬

The second he notices something off—your voice a little hoarse, your body a bit sluggish—he’s on it. Doesn’t matter how tired he is, he’s clocked it. You barely get a chance to brush it off before he’s already adjusting his schedule around you. If he's on tour or at the studio, he’ll be checking in constantly with messages like:

“Did you eat anything yet?” “Are you resting properly?” “Don't make me come home early, I will.”

When he is home, though? You’re not lifting a single finger. He’s all over the place—running to the pharmacy, heating soup, fluffing your pillows, and making sure you’ve got water within reach at all times. He’s quiet about it too, not making a big deal, just subtly doing what needs to be done because taking care of the people he loves is second nature to him.

You try to tell him you’re fine, and he just raises an eyebrow.

“You’re literally shivering. Don’t argue with me.”

He doesn't smother, but he's present. Keeps a calming hand on your back while you nap, plays soft music in the background to soothe your headache, and watches over you without making it feel overbearing. He reads the room well—gives you space when you need it, but never strays too far.

If you get emotional or frustrated about being sick, especially if it messes with your routine or makes you feel helpless, he gets it. His voice goes softer. He cups your cheek with a warm hand and murmurs:

“You don’t have to be strong right now, okay? Just rest. Let me take care of you for once.”

He will pull out the dreaded herbal stuff his mom used to make him drink when he was sick—“it tastes like sadness but it works”—and insists on staying up to monitor your fever, even if you beg him to sleep.

He keeps your hair out of your face, wipes your forehead with a cool cloth, and kisses your temple like it's instinct. Being with Chan when you're sick doesn't feel like being a burden—it feels like you're being wrapped in care, in love, in quiet devotion.

He won’t let you thank him too much either.

“You’d do the same for me. And besides, this just means I get extra cuddles when you’re better.”

Lee Know // 리노

He notices immediately. You don’t even have to say anything—just one look at your slightly pale face, the slower blink, the off rhythm of your breathing, and he’s narrowing his eyes like:

“You’re sick, aren’t you?”

When you try to deny it, he just stares you down until you give in with a sigh. You’d think he’d tease you, but no. Lee Know becomes uncharacteristically serious when it comes to your health.

He's not dramatic about it, but he’s efficient.

The moment you admit you’re not feeling well, he’s already on his phone checking what’s in the pantry, planning what you can eat, and quietly adjusting his day to make sure you’re not alone. He doesn’t announce it. He just does it.

He shows care through actions—not babying, but making sure you’re comfortable. Your favourite blanket suddenly appears around your shoulders. The heating pad is already plugged in. He hands you medicine without saying a word and watches to make sure you take it properly.

He cooks for you—but don’t expect anything fancy. You’re getting classic, warm, nourishing meals, exactly the kind of food that won’t upset your stomach. And yes, he’ll roast you a little:

“It tastes bland because you’re sick. What, you want Michelin-star when your nose is running?”

He absolutely will not cuddle you while you’re contagious. He’ll stay close, sure—sitting at the edge of the bed, folding laundry nearby, occasionally brushing his fingers through your hair with a sigh—but full-on snuggles? Nope. Not until your fever’s gone and you're cleared.

But he doesn’t leave the room either.

He stays just far enough to keep from catching whatever you have, but close enough to monitor you. He keeps one earbud in to give you peace but always pulls it out the second you shift or wince.

And when you wake up coughing at 3AM? He’s already by your side, handing you water before you can ask. His voice low and gentle, like:

“Don’t talk. Drink first. Breathe.”

If you start crying or feeling weak, that’s when he gets quiet. He won’t overwhelm you with comfort, but his gaze softens. He tucks you in tighter, hand lingering just a little longer against your forehead.

“You’re allowed to be sick. Stop trying to act like you're okay all the time.”

Later, when you’re getting better and a bit more dramatic than necessary (maybe asking him to fluff your pillow again), he smirks and rolls his eyes.

“You’re milking this. I know you.”

But he still does it. And when you're fully recovered, that's when the affection comes back in full—teasing kisses, long hugs, and a quiet,

“Don’t get sick again. I don’t like seeing you like that.”

(And maybe a whisper when he thinks you’re asleep:

“You scared me a little, you know.”)

Changbin // 창빈

The moment he finds out you’re sick, he goes from 0 to 100. Like, you text him “I think I caught something” and five minutes later he’s blowing up your phone with:

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SOMETHING??” “How bad is it??” “Do you need me?? Should I come over?? I’m coming over.”

When he does show up, he’s carrying way too much. A full bag of random groceries, multiple drinks (some contradictory—like, why ginger ale and sports drinks and vitamin C packets?), tissues with lotion, and something pink and fluffy that you’re not even sure has a purpose.

And he's breathless, out of breath from rushing, still in his hoodie and slippers like he didn’t even stop to fully change.

“Okay—okay, first things first—do you have a fever? No, wait, let me check—no, you don’t check, I check—”

He's definitely the type to Google your symptoms while sitting next to you, holding your hand like you’re dying. You cough once and he’s already deep into “early signs of pneumonia” and quietly panicking.

But here’s the thing—under all that chaotic energy is someone who really, really cares.

He wipes down surfaces, makes you take medicine on time, and paces while you nap because he can’t sit still when you’re unwell. If you so much as shift in your sleep, he’s immediately next to you.

“Do you need something? Water? Blanket? Me? I mean—I’m here—just say the word.”

He tries to cook. Like really tries. Follows a recipe video step by step, but ends up making the kitchen look like a warzone. The food is edible, and honestly, it tastes way better than you expected—but it comes with a sheepish smile and a “Don’t die, okay? I put my soul in that rice.”

He’s the type to encourage you to laugh through the misery, even if he knows you feel like crap. He’ll pull out his silly voice impressions, make faces, or randomly do aegyo just to get a smile out of you.

And when you’re too tired to respond? He quiets down. Holds your hand gently. Tucks the blanket up to your chin and just stays close.

“Rest, jagi. I’ll stay right here. I promise.”

And if you thank him too much, he gets all bashful and dramatic again:

“Stop being cute when you’re sick! I’m trying to focus on taking care of you, not falling in love all over again!”

Hyunjin // 현진

When you tell Hyunjin you’re sick, he gasps like you just confessed a tragic secret.

“You’re what? Sick? You?!”

He's immediately distraught. Not because he doesn’t know what to do—he actually does—but because he hates seeing you like this. His empathy is through the roof. If you're miserable, he's basically miserable by osmosis.

He shows up in a long coat, scarf, and a tote bag full of oddly curated items: a sketchpad, multiple fancy drinks, a candle he claims will help “cleanse your aura,” and a tiny stuffed animal “to guard your bed.”

But once the theatrics die down, he’s incredibly gentle.

He speaks softly around you, like he’s scared to disturb your peace. Brushes your hair back from your face with his knuckles. Gets you tissues and cool compresses and rubs your back when you cough. He doesn’t make a fuss out of helping—you just look up and he’s already kneeling next to the bed, adjusting your blanket with care.

“I don’t like this. You should always be glowing. You’re supposed to be warm and smiley and annoying me with your weird jokes.”

He doesn’t necessarily cook full meals, but he’ll cut fruit for you like a seasoned Korean mom. Brings you sliced apples and pears with toothpicks and arranges them in little patterns. He lights the candle (of course he does) and hums softly while you rest.

And when you fall asleep, he doesn’t leave.

He curls up at the foot of the bed like a quiet cat, sketchbook in his lap, drawing you as you sleep—not in a weird way, just a soft “I want to remember you like this, even if you’re sick” way. His lines are delicate. Thoughtful. Honest.

If you start crying out of frustration or exhaustion, he immediately drops everything to cradle you, whispering into your hair:

“Hey. It’s okay. You don’t have to hold it in. Let me carry it for you.”

He’ll cry too, but quietly. Not to take the attention off you—just because it genuinely hurts to see someone he loves in pain.

And when you finally start to feel a bit better, he brightens like the sun peeking out after rain.

“You’re healing,” he says, brushing his knuckle under your eye, “and when you’re fully better, we’re going to go out and celebrate your immune system.”

Because of course he would.

Han // 한

Han freaks out immediately—but it’s not super helpful at first. You text him something simple like “I’m feeling kinda sick today,” and within ten minutes he’s calling you with a full-blown gasp:

“OH MY GOD YOU’RE DYING—okay no you’re not dying BUT LIKE—ARE YOU OKAY???”

He’s definitely pacing back and forth in his room, still in pyjamas, with a headband holding his hair back and zero plan on what to do. He panics first, then pulls himself together. His love language is chaos-then-action.

He shows up at your place with a bag that makes no sense: two different kinds of ramen, a random juice box, cough drops, chocolate, three stress balls (“in case you’re bored”), and a neck pillow. No medicine. No actual meals. Just vibes.

“Okay okay, hear me out—I panicked. But I brought snacks and love.”

Despite the scattered brain, he pulls it together when it really counts. He’s attentive. He’ll sit next to you while you rest and hold your hand loosely, thumb brushing over your knuckles. He won’t say anything for a while—just watches you with those big, warm eyes full of concern.

If you’re curled up and miserable, he’ll adjust the blanket for you and say in a surprisingly soft voice:

“I don’t like seeing you like this. I’d rather be sick instead.”

(He means it. But also, if he got sick, he'd be 10x more dramatic than you. Bedridden. Needy. Demanding forehead kisses every five minutes.)

He makes you laugh without even trying. The moment your fever breaks a little and you can sit up, he’s already putting on dumb videos, doing weird impressions of your doctor, or lip-syncing to ballads with way too much emotion.

He’ll also say stuff like:

“If you die, can I keep your hoodie collection? Not because I want them, just so no one else gets them.”

Followed by:

“Wait, no, don’t die. You’re the only person who laughs at my weird jokes.”

He’ll write you a freestyle rap while you nap. It’s bad. It’s so bad. But it’s from the heart. And you wake up to him beatboxing quietly next to you, working on rhymes like “She’s sick but she’s slick, with tissues so quick—uh, what rhymes with thermometer?”

And even if he makes light of it, he doesn’t leave. Not until you’ve eaten something. Not until you’re tucked in. Not until he’s made you laugh at least once.

“You’re not allowed to feel gross. You’re still the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen—with or without the sniffles.”

Felix // 필릭스

Felix immediately switches into guardian angel mode the moment you tell him you're sick. His brows knit together with concern, and he softly goes:

“Oh no, darling… Are you okay? What hurts? What do you need?”

His voice somehow gets even softer than usual, and that’s saying a lot. He doesn’t waste time—he’s already got a mental checklist going. He shows up at your place like a quiet storm, arms full of carefully selected things: your favourite tea, fresh fruit, his cosiest hoodie (the one you steal all the time), and a little handwritten note that just says “rest well, lovebug 🤍” tucked into a book.

He moves around your space like he’s done this a thousand times. Lights a soft-scented candle. Makes you tea—ginger, lemon, honey, everything—and hands it to you with both hands like it’s sacred.

“Sip slowly, yeah? It’ll help your throat.”

He speaks in a hush, like he’s scared to be too loud and disturb you. But even more than that, he listens. He watches your cues. If you don’t feel like talking, he sits quietly and rubs your back in slow, rhythmic circles. If you’re cranky or frustrated with how you feel, he’s patient. He doesn’t dismiss it. Just murmurs,

“It’s okay to be upset. You don’t have to pretend with me.”

He won’t let you feel guilty for needing help. He doesn’t even think twice about it—it’s just natural to him to care for you. He’ll spoon-feed you porridge if you’re too weak to eat (with a soft, teasing “open up, baby~”), fluff your pillows, and offer to braid your hair to keep it out of your face if it’s long.

And when you’re really out of it, in that floaty feverish state? He hums lullabies to you. Soft, low, breathy melodies while running his fingers through your hair, grounding you like an anchor.

He’s physically affectionate but gentle—he won’t cling if you’re uncomfortable, but he’ll press a kiss to your forehead with reverence when your fever starts to come down.

“You’re getting better already. That’s my strong baby.”

When you start feeling a bit better and try to apologize for being so out of it, he just shakes his head and smiles that soft, dimpled smile:

“I’d take care of you a hundred more times if it meant I get to love you this much.”

Seungmin // 승민

You text him: “I think I’m getting sick.”

His reply:

“Wow. Weak.” “Do you want me to come over or are you going to survive this incredibly tragic cold on your own?”

He teases you endlessly, even when he’s already halfway out the door with a tote bag full of essentials. He’s not the kind to show up flustered or chaotic—he’s cool, collected, and annoyingly prepared. He stops by the pharmacy like it’s a casual errand, picks the right kind of medicine, and shows up at your place with soup containers labelled with the exact heating instructions.

“Because I know you’re going to ignore me when I leave. So I made it idiot-proof.”

Despite the constant roasting, he’s weirdly good at caretaking. Like, scary good. He’s probably done this for the other members a million times. He doesn’t hover, but he keeps you on schedule—meds on time, hydration checked, food warm. He sets timers on his phone like:

“Every 4 hours, you're drinking something. I don’t care if it’s water or juice. Just not coffee. Don’t test me.”

He definitely sits at the edge of your bed or couch with a mug in hand, watching you like a judgmental hawk while you eat something.

“Chew slower. You sound like a vacuum cleaner.”

He’ll bring over one of his own hoodies and act like it’s no big deal when you snuggle into it—but there’s a flicker of fondness in his eyes when you do.

If you’re really sick and end up crying or feeling gross, Seungmin’s whole vibe shifts. His voice softens. His teasing fades out, and he looks at you like you’re fragile—but never in a pitying way. Just... attentively.

“Hey. Don’t do that thing where you bottle everything up and pretend you’re okay. You're sick, not invincible.”

He sits beside you, holding your wrist gently and checking your pulse like he knows what he’s doing (and honestly? He kinda does).

When you’re asleep, he doesn’t leave right away. He stays long enough to make sure you’re breathing evenly, your fever’s down, and that your glass of water is full. He’ll tidy your space a little—nothing crazy, just enough so that you’ll wake up feeling a bit more at ease.

And if you ask him why he’s being so sweet the next day?

“Because I don’t want you to die. Who else would I bully?”

And then under his breath, as he's walking away:

“…Plus, I care about you. Obviously.”

I.N // 아이엔

Jeongin freezes when you tell him you’re sick. Like—deer in headlights, soul leaving his body—kind of freeze.

“You’re… sick?? What do I do?? What am I supposed to do?? Do I call Chan-hyung?? Is there a number for this??”

He genuinely panics at first, not because he doesn’t want to help, but because he doesn’t want to mess anything up. He’s never fully confident in these situations, but the second he realizes you need him, he pulls it together real fast.

He shows up at your door with the most random collection of items: yogurt (he read online it helps), a bag of cough drops (he bought 3 kinds just in case), a warm scarf (that he knitted, sob), and a tiny teddy bear he won at a claw machine a week ago.

“He’s here to keep you company when I can’t. Don’t get attached, though. He’s still mine.”

Once inside, he’s constantly checking with you—nervously, but sweetly.

“Do you want porridge? I can try making it… it might be weird though.” “Do you feel hot? Like fever hot, not hot-hot. Not that you’re not hot—okay never mind—”

He’s flustered. So flustered. But he puts 200% effort into everything. He follows tutorials to make you soup and burns his tongue taste-testing it (“worth it”), tries to fluff your pillows in just the right way, and keeps offering you water every ten minutes.

He might pace a bit when you're napping, muttering to himself like:

“Okay, don’t forget the medicine at 2. And check the temperature. And don’t forget to smile when she wakes up. But not creepy. Calm smile. Natural. Chill. I'm chill.”

If you’re too tired to talk, he’ll just sit nearby, playing quietly on his phone, occasionally peeking over to make sure you’re okay. He doesn’t leave until you force him to rest too. And even then, he sets an alarm so he can wake up and check your temperature in a few hours.

And when you’re finally feeling better, all the tension leaves his body in a big sigh of relief—and he gets shy.

“You’re okay now… That’s good. I didn’t really do much but… I’m glad I was here.”

Then adds with a soft, sheepish smile:

“Next time, let me take care of you before you pass out trying to act fine, okay?”

He’s your little protector in disguise—nervous, thoughtful, and quietly proud of himself for stepping up when it counted.

[st-hedge]

Puts Elden bling doodles into ur hand

[mariasont]

maria omfg just read be so stupid and the part where u said about listen to spencers heartbeat and i am crazy for this type of intimacy 😫 can u make something with pre relationship spencer feeling his heartbeat i dont know their hearts syncing. really anything with that intimacy!!!! im in love with your writing keep posting cz im eating all up 💝💓💞🩷 kisses

Thump, Thump - S.R.

a/n: hi sug!!!!!!! love love love your beautiful mind!!! pre relationship where there is so much feelings and pining UGH! love! thank you sm for requesting <3

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x reader

warnings: pre relationship cuties, pining, all the things!

wc: 1.1k

It was so quiet even the sound of a pin dropping might be deafening. In fact, it was so quiet that it felt as though Spencer could've read your mind if he tried hard enough. If he could read you mind, he would unfortunately be privy to your annoying inner monologue screaming:

"How could I be so stupid? I've managed to trap us in a tiny, cramped closet that's barely 9 square feet. How on earth did this even happen?"

Or something along those lines.

You had been investigating a crime scene, and somehow, you both ended up crammed into this confined space—so close that you could feel his surprisingly soft, springy hair, which had grown to shoulder length, brushing against your forehead. The closeness was almost suffocating, and you could hear his breathing, which only heightened your awareness of your predicament.

You find yourself in an incredibly awkward position, pressed against his chest, with your arms pinned at your sides as if you're afraid to make a move. Any lower and you risk an EEO report, but any higher and you'll be holding on to his chest, which somehow felt even more intimate.

"Do you think they're close?" you whispered, not knowing why you felt the need to lower your voice.

It almost seemed rude to speak at a normal volume, as if it would be too intrusive. After all, you'd practically be yelling right in his ear.

"Well, we called them 8 minutes ago," Spencer said, his voice vibrating from his chest to yours. "If they took the normal route, they should be here in approximately 3 minutes and 45 seconds.  The average response time for our team in this area is about 12 minutes, but given the urgency, they might be a bit slower."

His hand moved to rest on your hip, and your body immediately went rigid. A jolt of electricity shot from your toes to your spine.

He sensed the tenseness in you because, well, of course he did. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," you breathed out, straining your eyes in the darkness to discern the details of his face. "Just a little claustrophobic."

That was only half true. It was more that you felt claustrophobic because you had no desire to be this close to the colleague you had been harboring an infatuation with for what felt like forever. He was intoxicating--everything about him. Especially now that you could feel his muscles flex beneath his shirt and breathe in the blend of old books and clean linen that seemed to define him.

Spencer nodded at your words, the movement of his head causing his entire body to shift. This brought him even closer, his arm instinctively wrapping around your back.

"Sorry, my arm was falling asleep," he justified, voice soft. You didn't argue, sparks detonating from the point of contact, your whole body aflame. "You know, sometimes applying gentle pressure can help reduce feelings of claustrophobia. It might seem counterintuitive, but it works."

"Well, I don't think we can get much closer than this," you chuckled nervously.

Spencer, without missing a beat, placed his hand gently around your neck and drew you into his chest. You didn't resist, didn't put up a fight. Your heart pounded, and with your ear now pressed against his body, you could heart his heart. The steady thumps were so clear, you could almost hear the blood coursing through its veins.

You softened into his touch, your hands moving slowly to wrap around his neck, unable to draw away from the continuous pulsing of his central organ. You were sick in the head, that was for sure, but the rest of your body didn't seem to care about your head's woes; it was all too keen to liquefy into his body.

You could likely die here—if the team never got here, and this is how you were to go—locked in a child's closet with the man of your dreams; you thought you might be okay with that.

But fate had different plans, which might have been a good thing; you might have been thinking a little rashly. You blamed it on the lack of oxygen flow. Spencer would tell you that the limited airflow in such small spaces means we're breathing in more carbon dioxide than usual, which can affect cognitive functions and make us feel dizzy and disoriented.

Dizzy and disoriented. Check and check. Now, whether that was due to the lack of airflow was a different story.

Without warning, Spencer's hand moved from your hip to your neck, settling between the nook where your jaw meets your throat. You froze in the spot, lips parted slightly as you watched his mouth move. Was he counting?

You realized he was when he let out a disappointed huff. His hand didn't move from your neck.

"Your heart rate is still pretty high," he observed. "Maybe we should try something else—"

"No, no, it's okay. I think it's working."

You didn't want to lose this closeness, and you weren't too eager for him to find out your heart rate was spiked by something other than the small space you were restricted to.

He hummed in response. You weren't sure if he believed you or not, but he dragged his hand back to your hip.

Thump, thump, thump.

You thought maybe you should tell him how you feel, that perhaps now was a better time than any—that the way your body froze around him was anything but friendly and that the feeling in your—

"Well, it looks like you two managed to stay calm."

Your head snapped up to see the team standing there, gaping at you like you were a couple of zoo animals. If they had given you 5 to 10 more minutes alone, you might have been.

You jumped away immediately, face burning as you raked a hand through your hair, glaring holes into Morgan's skull. On the other hand, Spencer looked slightly smug, a small smile tugging at his perfect lips.

"We were just... waiting," you protested, ignoring the look of disbelief from your unit chief.

Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. "Sure, whatever you say, hot stuff."

As you stepped out of the closet, your eyes lingered back to Spencer, your heart still racing. Your eyes met, and the world seemed to freeze for a moment. Maybe you'd tell him how you felt the next time.

"So, pretty boy, you think you'd be that snug with me if we were the ones trapped in there?"

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[takes1]

ah, hello kuroken anon again here!!! :> I LOVED LOVED LOOVEDDDD THE PART 2 HAHAGWGSH SOO EXCITED TO SEE HOW IT’LL END!!!! AND MASTERMIND KENMA??? YOU. GET. IT. YOUUU FUCKING GET ITTTT. IM SO CRAZY THATS LITERALLY HOW I THINK HE’D BE IN BED AJAKSIFIRKRJ. thats the team’s brain right there!!!! cant wait to reread this story over and over <3333

thank you again for sparing some time to write even when youre busy with your education, i’m also busy with my education related stuff so you posting your writing at this time is really helping me to keep me going 🫶 good luck to u!!! ^^

[final] kenma sharing you with kuroo

you're a gem and i will sorely miss hearing from you after this part is posted. fuuuuck you made me cry a lil bit 🤏not even kidding omg. i'm genuinely so glad the characterization got through 😫💕and that i could help you in any capacity loves.

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / porn with plot / threesome / angst, fluff, and smut / jealous?kuroo / secure!kenma / submissive(with conditions)!reader / praisewhore!reader / use of toys / m!rec oral / riding / kuroo working through his emotions / mastermind!kenma / poly!conversations / happy!cuck'd kenma / fluid pecking order / 3k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. part one here. part two.

"Good," A little drive-by peck to your temple and Kenma was off the bed, grabbing some water.

"I need a break."

Kuroo filled the space he left verbally and physically-- a starved scan of your body, trembling already, on top of him. His head swiveled from you to Kenma's cute butt. He couldn't keep his hand off of his own cock to save his life, so it didn't surprise you that he stroked himself and checked your boyfriend out at the same time. If you had one, you'd do the same.

"You lazy fuckin' bastard..."

They shared a laugh.

He let the chuckle die for a second, more of a yearning as he looked at you again, "You sure it's alright with you, man?"

You realized you couldn't stop your hands from shaking. You really wanted him.

You both looked at Kenma, who put his hands up, more annoyed that the question kept cropping up, "Promise. I'm fine, I just got- kinda close."

You were brimming with pride at that truthful statement, hips automatically rolled against Kuroo's cock. He could play the role well, but it wasn't natural. Neither was his pace or his intensity, so it made sense that he was forced to sacrifice his already shitty stamina.

Kenma liked slow, smother-y, whiny, missionary stuff that went on for a couple rounds and ended in you both passed out in your own slippery mess. This was all a little pornographic, performative, for a neutral observer.

"F-uck," He groaned, face tense at how well you took him.

He couldn't believe neither of you made him wear a condom. He never fucked raw, and never imagined he would have the chance to get with you. This was too perfect.

Kuroo was on the thicker side, and leaned hard to the left. Two features you weren't accustomed to, but instantly learned to love. He stretched your cunt out so easy- leaving you at a shallow gasp, as he wasted no time to show you how much he had been craving you over the past year.

That pretty, occupied, shock was exactly what he wanted to see.

He grinned, a possessive grip around your throat, "That's what you wanted, huh?"

His lip curled, twitched. He bottomed out and rolled his hips the way Kenma had, earlier.

"You wanted me?"

You squeaked at his premature intensity- nails digging into his shoulders. He squeezed you to prompt an answer.

A whimpery, "Yeah."

Kuroo was different when he let himself talk to you like this, like it was just you two. It felt like he was finally being honest.

It was apparent that he wanted you close, intimately so, and not posed up for Kenma. He was still sipping his water, watching, as if he was hanging out on the bench during a game.

Kuroo fucked you slower, nicer, after he hearing your pitiful sob of an answer.

His thumb rubbed slow, a nearly imperceivable circle in your hip, as he searched your eyes.

"Why didn't ya tell me?" Was so quiet. It made your heart squeeze.

He felt too good, pumping in and out of you so easy, filling you over and over again like it was nothing.

His voice was ever softer, as you were rewiring your brain to make room for a singular thought.

"You hear me, pretty girl?"

You softened at his endless list of nicknames for you- all so methodical and sweet, like he had always thought of you as his baby, his doll, his pretty girl.

"Mhm," Got muffled against his fervent kisses.

It would have to go unanswered. You realized at some point you didn't have a satisfying response for him; even if you did before, you couldn't do his questions any justice, now.

He was like Kenma when he got close. He grew huffy, and leagues worse at kissing. His little taunts were incomprehensible, but the nature of his mumbly, dirty words was enough to get you close and considering the possibility of a future arrangement here.

The idea had you pushing out of his weakened grip, looking towards Kenma. Adoration had filled his features even before he caught you looking at him, evidence that he had nothing to hide.

He came closer to kiss you.

Kuroo allowed you to you lean close to Kenma's ear, amused when you covered your whisper up with your palm, so he had no chance of hearing.

"Let me suck you off again," Was your request.

Kenma stepped back, face too hesitant for your liking. He shook his head, undecided, with a long and quiet hum.

"Please," Your hand fell from his shoulder as he stroked himself, just to see if he could last for it.

You had to beg a few more times, real sweet, real pretty, for him to decide that finishing first wasn't all so bad. It clearly wasn't an original part of his plan, but he couldn't tell you no; not with you all fucked out, waiting for more, on top of his best friend.

"Ohh my god," Kuroo groaned, forcing you still, as he pieced together why Kenma climbed back up, on his knees, at his side.

Your dirty little smile only broke to press a kiss to the tip of Kenma's cock.

"Oh my g-od..." He repeated himself, voice breaking this time.

It was easier from this position, than the one you had been in earlier- the whole reason any of this was playing out now.

The way your tongue stretched out, the hollow in your cheeks, how fucking easy you made it look, and most of all, your pretty little stare up at him was all too perfect. Kuroo didn't blush often, but this was a true surprise, and a moment worthy of the red on his face, now.

He wasn't going to last long, from the start, but this was overload. You had gotten comfortable with him long before he was ever in the picture- knowing exactly how Kenma liked it, what got him closest, the fastest. He didn't make the connection before now, but that's what Kenma had shown earlier, too.

Kenma was huffy, a bit higher in tone, "She got me off the game- ah-h, like-- this,"

One hand was still, twitchy, at his side- one kept your hair back, but didn't control you. His abs flexed, uneven.

"Fuckin' knew it," Kuroo gave a tired, very distracted chuckle.

His shoulders would stoop hard to the side with a big, struggled sigh when you'd take him deeper. You brought out a more submissive side of Kenma. It was a welcome sight.

Kuroo had to let you go to rub the ache from his temples. In the absence of his hands, you rolled your hips. You didn't want to just be a cock warmer-- you wanted him to fuck you. So far, Kenma had been rougher, and that didn't meet your expectations at all.

He seethed, and kept you still again with a shuddery sound, "Don't- don't move."

You came back up, popping Kenma out of your mouth, stroking him quickly as you gave Kuroo a mean stare.

"Relaaax, babygirl, I just need a second--,"

You frowned. So they both couldn't last? You took your frustration out on Kenma- twitching, gasping, at your lubed palm making an embarrassingly quick work of his endurance. He was really cute when he was about to cum.

"Babe- fuck- I'm-- I-h- Ah!," He stuttered, his panting growing quicker, the tension across his body now locked.

He let you to decide what you wanted. You could feel him tense as you kept your tongue laid flat, swirled in little circles on the underside of the tip, as you pumped the rest of his length.

"Mm-h, fuc-k--"

"Aah, ah-hh-!"

Kuroo had to scratch little divots into his palm to keep himself sobered enough. He watched along in awe as you swallowed, hardly any labor on your brow. You looked at him the whole time, this impossible innocence in your steady gaze.

Kenma was a work of art, his mouth parted, lips wet with drool, his brow tense at how you kept sucking at his sensitive tip. He adored you. There was no hope for Kuroo to replace that, going either way.

"Oka-y, okay," Kenma pulled you off with a shuddery sigh.

He muttered, "I love you s'much," against your scalp as you licked your fingers clean. After stealing a kiss, he sat back on his heels, a hand rested on Kuroo's shoulder.

There was a sorry lack of quips from him. He wasn't being a smartass anymore, or even funny. He was acting a little dull, like Kenma after a couple rounds. You tilted your head down at him, analyzing what the hell happened.

He returned it, his intense, deep eyes cutting right through you.

You softened your expression. Maybe he was still in there.

"He won't move," You pouted to Kenma, as if he could possibly do something about it.

He covered his snicker with his hand- Kuroo rolled his eyes but got cut short when you tried to move your hips up and back down. His nails dug so hard into you that you gave a small whimper- trying to pry his hands away, unsuccessfully.

"If she doesn't stop doing that, I'm gonna fuckin' cum," In a similar fashion to you, he looked at Kenma, like he could fix it, "I'm so serious, bro- it's not even funny."

Kenma gave a loaded sigh. He did look like he was thinking for a solution.

Kuroo had your face in his big hand, warning you, to be still. You liked the sound of him cumming inside you, and how he was barely holding himself together, so you only met his harshness with a small, maniacal smile.

After rifling through the sheets, Kenma found your favorite vibrator and wiggled it with pride in front of Kuroo. He didn't disappoint; he truly had a solution for everything.

"Dunno how I forgot about this," He muttered, clicking through the settings to the only one you actually used.

As he took the time to do this, you clocked that he was still half-hard, even after two orgasms, and felt some butterflies in your tummy. He glanced your bodies over with a little smirk.

He kissed right behind your ear, "Let's try leveling the playing field, yeah?"

It was easy to act all big and bad when they were both closer than you. Once they had you on your back, completely honed in on just your body, your short-lived confidence was shaken.

In a similar, reverse fashion, Kuroo was back to his original state: an irritating tease.

He was eager to listen to and watch Kenma as he cuddled up to your side.

"We usually don't go for this long-," He admitted, making him smirk.

He took one leg hostage to spread you before pressing your vibrator up to your clit.

"A-hh-ah-!" You twitched, under all the sudden pleasure.

"But you're getting spoiled today, huh?" Your partner chuckled, a little kiss to your temple.

This may have been one of the few times Kuroo didn't keep his cock in his hand. The whole point was to get him further away from a climax, after all.

He used that effort to take your opposite side, in an almost identical orientation as Kenma. Your other leg was relieved of its fatigue once Kuroo wouldn't let it go.

If he focused too hard at the delicious tension in your face, or the way Kenma had to keep you forcefully still, he had to look away for twice as long with a big, calming sigh.

"She is such a pretty thing," He muttered, during one of these moments.

"Sooo pretty," Kenma agreed. He watched Kuroo's affliction, how it seemed more than just physical.

Another little peck to your sweaty temple, as you squirmed and flexed, panting, under their weight and pulling, "You should tell Kuro how much you want him."

They couldn't let you rest. It was psychological torture paired with the most a dizzying turn of events you hadn't prepared for.

It was, all things considered, a simple task.

A fluttery sigh- then a short, pitiful whine at how Kenma was making it hard again-

"I think- ah! I-i... I've 'ad a-... crush- on you-- Mh!"

Your pushing against his forearm became compromised as Kuroo laced his fingers through yours, pulling your hand to his lips. He listened closely.

That little tension around his eyes seemed to melt, his smirk becoming more of a smile. It was partially amusement at how difficult it was for you to speak, but it was also something he needed to hear.

"You're- h-ah-- soo hot," You seethed, unfocused eyes finally landing on his face, how he pressed that kiss real slow into the back of your hand, eyes unfaltering, "'And-- mmm, s-ooo sweet."

His true nature, with his guard down, didn't even show much like this. When he let loose, you could see that he was not much of a scheming, cunning, captain naturally. He was a big cutiepie that filled the gaps of his loneliness with too many distractions. That left him feeling guilty. Which, in turn, gave him more reason to compensate with the same sinful crutches.

It was easy to feel empathic for him as he gave you those big puppy dog eyes, but it was the very affinity for these crutches that got him all fired up at your words.

"Yeahh-," He gave another, rougher kiss to your hand, and sighed, "You're gettin' dicked down for that one."

Kenma chuckled at his silly, sudden change in attitude. You smiled, relieved, to see that you didn't have to move, that Kuroo would actually go for missionary, because this edge was heaven.

When he was settled between your legs, filling you up again to the base of his cock- he leaned forward and swerved to hold Kenma's face in one of his hands.

"I see what you're doin'."

Surprise was all over his delicate features.

"You're not subtle," He spat, using a rough kiss as the end of it.

They shared a long, messy kiss that spurred Kuroo to start fucking you- your gasps, whines, only encouraged him, only inspired their curiosity.

Maybe Kuroo did understand that Kenma had a higher plan; one that involved persuading you to come clean about your secret feelings, and use that as a weapon to inspire action in Kuroo. What remained ambiguous was why.

As distracted as Kenma was, he still didn't let off of your poor, overstimulated clit. They were both so rough in their respective tasks, and every time you tried to move one of them, your hands would be intercepted.

You had to just lay there and take it.

The 'why' kind of- fell away, when he parted from Kenma's soft lips, looking down at your clingy, blacked-out expression. Needy. He didn't get that look often- it made his cock swell, and turned his thrusts harder, as he felt you tighten.

"Fuck-! Ughh-" He had to swallow the build-up of spit in his mouth, push his sweat-soaked hair back, "You gonna cum around my cock?"

You responded so well to the pain on his face, the wanton desire behind the way he dug into your hips and watched Kenma lean over you for more kisses.

"Right in front of your- Mmh, pretty- little- boyfriend?"

In your pseudo-daze, riding that high, long-awaited build-up, you could feel Kenma sigh against your mouth at the attention.

"Fuck- fuck, fuck--!" You gasped- your pussy spasmed around his perfect cock.

Kuroo bit the inside of his already chewed up cheek to keep from cumming inside of you.

He felt your nails dig hard into his hand on your hip, your other one adding another trophy to Kenma's scarred shoulders. It was confirmation that Kenma had been lying to the team in the locker room on dozens of occasions, talking nonsense about a cat somehow scratching him up.

"Mmh-h-Ah-!"

It was nearly impossible to listen to you, as he fucked you hard through it all. Kenma recognized that expression well, a little proud smirk at his friend's restraint, and at how good your pussy was to keep him so obedient.

You were coming down, stupid and breathless, when he rushed to pull out of you.

"F-uck, a-ah-Haah, shitshitshit," He whined.

He was shaking, panting, and unsure if he had pulled out in time.

The nasty, addictive feeling of hot, sticky cum painted all between your folds, in the sheets, over your vibrator, tummy, inner thighs, and Kenma's hand.

His face was twitchy, but slowly spread to a panic that wasn't shared between you and Kenma.

Kenma considered torturing him longer, but decided against it.

"Birth control," He clarified, then repeated at Kuroo's empty-headed expression, "She's on birth control."

Kuroo gave a big, loud groan, slouching back to sit on his ankles: "Thank God- Ohhh-! Thank God, Holy shit...fuck."

This relationship had too many cum-hungry habits to not take every precaution. Aside from condoms.

His exhausted relief left him cracking his neck, rubbing his warm face at the sight of how covered you had gotten. He nearly missed Kenma licking the back of his own wrist.

You still looked as cute as ever, all sleepy and drenched. He couldn't help but shimmy lower, just to press a mean kiss to your slicked-up and tired clit.

"Ah-!" You squealed, thighs squeezed around his head.

Thankfully, he didn't intend to stay. He wiped the excess cum off of his cheek, finding it a little too salty for his taste, and chuckled at your quivering form.

Kenma was already taking on the responsibility of cleaning up. It left Kuroo to mess with you a bit longer and nestle up to your side again.

Kenma was on a mission for a warm rag for your slick, starting-to-be-sticky body and pulled on some clothes. He finished his water and excused himself to go grab more, for the two of you.

He watched him leave. It was quiet, except for your still-shaky breathing.

"You okay, babydoll?" Kuroo used his big hand to guide your face towards him, sharing in a few long, soft kisses.

You still kissed him with the same passion as earlier, even though Kenma wasn't around.

A weak, "Mhm."

"Was I too rough with you?"

You smiled, the question somehow able to make you blush, "N-o, you were- you were great."

Kuroo grinned, but it was a little empty. He wasn't optimistic about the reality of the aftermath. One fling, a spur-of-the-moment threesome, was fun, exciting, new. What about after that? After the newness wore off?

The last kiss you shared was a bit harder, rushed, for a reason you couldn't pick apart. He kept talking to you as he moved off of the bed and started getting dressed again.

"Y'know- I thought you and Kemma fucked like old people."

You chuckled, "Oh, really?"

"Yeah- but... you taught me a couple things."

Kuroo knew he would never be satisfied if he was seen as the outsider- but there was no room for him in your dynamic, from what he had seen so far.

He had no idea where he phone was, so he began searching for it, and it took so long that Kenma was already coming back in.

"Where are you going?" Kenma clocked him instantly.

You opened your eyes, confused- and now Kuroo had both of you looking at him like a fox in your henhouse.

"Well- I," He chuckled, again, empty, and you sensed it now, "I just- thought this was-..."

Kuroo swallowed, way more emotionally invested than he wanted to be. Usually, he could brush off that 'Why are you leaving?' look, as a sort of trophy sometimes, in recognition that he fucked somebody well. Here, he felt like a genuine asshole.

Kenma had a rag balled up in his hand, dripping onto the floor like a weapon. He set two bottles down on the bedside table without looking away from him.

"I don't know how you managed to twist it all up in your head, Kuro-," He walked closer, shoulders squared, until he was a little too close. Kuroo mimicked him, naturally.

You covered your mouth, a little too trembly, naked, and uninformed to contribute.

He was incredibly frustrated, as he continued, "-But I know you're not heartless. If you walk out--,"

"What?" Kuroo laughed, egging him on.

"I'm gonna beat your ass."

Kuroo laughed harder, brow furrowed, eyes searching down at him.

Disbelief laced his voice, "Oh, yeah?"

Kenma pushed him. It wasn't hard, but it made him take a step back. Kuroo blinked, and all the amusement had vanished, leaving only irritation in its wake.

It was unironically quite a scary display- you had already taken the initiative to sit up and cover yourself with a blanket. You were swimming in your own guilt. If you had said no, or just never liked him in the first place, it wouldn't have gotten to this point.

Kenma looked incredibly small with Kuroo's heavy hands on his shoulders.

"Good thing-," His hand slid down to Kenma's, interlacing their fingers, with a quick kiss to the top of the head, "I'm not leaving."

You shared big sigh of relief with Kenma.

"Fuck you," He muttered, giving into a grumpy kiss.

Kuroo's brow raised, already cheerful, and satisfied that he was wanted, especially enough to warrant that kind of reaction from Kenma. It was successful at settling any present doubts that this was just surface-level lust at play.

"Mm- maybe next time, yeah?"

He caught sight of you, all worried and bundled up in your blanket, "Aaww, sweetie-!"

"You poor thing-," He quickly returned to hug you, a thousand apologetic kisses to your head, "I would never hurt Kemma."

The only problem left to address was your stickiness, now also all over that one throw blanket. They both shared in the arduous task of cleaning up. The two were back to goofing around, showering you in compliments, apologies, and kisses for getting so stupid and worked up while you were caught in the middle.

Kenma had put his foot in the figurative door for something pretty special between the three of you. It would be a process, navigating this new thing together. If it meant more of this, though, it was worth a shot.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

taglist - thanks for your patience and the support!!

@portrait-ninja @insertamazingname @thisiswhereishitpostalot @isayuni @ice-echo26 @ghostreader0307 @0kaymellon @peacetea-sb

my masterlist. more haikyuu. (new) my imagines.

[emmiesoverthemoon]

NGHH I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEE THE GD SMUT U DID hehe i was the one who requested it (im freaky anon hehe)

I HAVE ANOTHER ONE (if u want to do it)

can you do needy daesung kinda of YOU KNOW? like orgasm control yk like whimpering and stuff… HAHA i’m sorry im embarrassed writing this

THERE NEEDS TO HE MORE DAESUNG FANFICS 💔

welcome back to my domain im so glad u loved ur previous request! ill try my best with this one too!! >:)

❥ trying something new

Pairing: daesung x reader

Word count: 2,623

Summary: Daesung wants to try something new with you, and you can’t get enough of seeing him embarrassed.

Tags: absolute total freaky business, smut, bj, edging, p in v, teasing, fluff and smut

cross posted on ao3 here

The moment Daesung cleared his throat, you knew something in him was different.

He’d always been a bold man—the kind of guy that could waltz into any room, flash that energetic, charming, boyish grin, and have everyone at ease in an instant. Radiation waves of pure confidence and sunshine are second nature to him, woven into the very fabric of who he is. But right now? Right now, he is a flustered mess.

You watched him fidget, tapping restless fingers against his thigh, his usual golden, sunlit energy dimmed by something weighty. His knee bounced. He exhaled through his nose. And when he finally lifted his gaze to yours, his cheeks were red. Not the faint pink flush of exertion or laughter, or the hilarious flush he always gets after drinking, but a deep, mortifying crimson that spread from the tips of his ears down his neck like wildfire.

You tilt your head, intrigued. "You okay?"

"I'm fine!" he blurted—too fast, too bright. Then, as if realizing his own betrayal, he groans and drags a hand down his face. "No. Not fine. Just—God, this is stupid."

You set your glass down, leaning in, your curiosity eating away at you. You needed to know what was making Daesung act like this. "Now you have to tell me."

He let out a breathy laugh, but there’s no usual childlike glee to it. He was stalling. You could see it, feel it. It made something coil warm and expectant in your stomach.

"I'm serious," you pressed, your voice softer now, coaxing. You placed a hand on his thigh, near to his knee. "You can tell me anything."

He swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing in sync. Then, in a move so unlike him, he avoided your eyes, focusing intently on the space between his fingers as he rubbed his hands together. "Okay. So, there's this... thing. A new thing. I wanna try it. With you." His voice dropped an octave, thick with something tangled between excitement and sheer, gut-wrenching mortification.

You raised a brow, smirking. "Sounds intriguing."

"It is! I mean—I think it is? But also, maybe it's weird? I don’t think it's weird, per-se, but now I’m questioning everything because my brain is being a little—" He made an exploding gesture near his temple, eyes wide with dramatic panic. "And now I’m just sitting here, turning red like a damn tomato while you look at me like that."

You could not help the grin that pulled further at your lips. "Like what?"

"Like you're having the time of your life watching me suffer."

“No…not at all,” you drag out, biting back a laugh. “Actually a little bit."

He groaned again, tipping his head back, his fluffy hair flowing down his head. "This is so much harder than it should be." Then, finally—finally—he squared his shoulders and meets your gaze, his deep breath shuddering just slightly at the exhale. "Okay. I just need to say it. Right now. Just—rip the Band-Aid off. Okay. Okay."

A pause.

A heartbeat.

Then:

"Can we try o-denial or edging or whatever the name is? I’ve never done it before, and I’m curious of what it feels like" He confesses, all in one breath, all in a rush, as if speaking it any slower might actually kill him. If you were not paying attention so closely, you actually would have not been able to understand a single word that left his mouth. Pink dusted your cheeks at the thought, a crystal clear contrast to the deep shade of red he was currently.

Silence settled between you for half a second before his hands fly to his face, muffling what can only be a groan of sheer regret. "Oh my God, I actually said it. I'm gonna die now. Bury me where we first met, thanks."

You laugh—full, bright, delighted. Not because you’re making fun of him--maybe a little--, but because this--this--is rare. Seeing him like this, all wound up and uncharacteristically unsure, is new. And new with him has always been exciting.

So you reached for him, fingers brushing his, grounding him. "Hey," you murmur, and when he peeked at you from behind his hands, you offer him the softest, smile, trying to comfort him. Which would work better in his favour if the words that came out from your soft lips were not dripping with pure seductive teasing. "Tell me more."

And that is how Daesung ended up in your shared bed, on his back, writhing with pleasure as you had your mouth wrapped around his throbbing cock, incessantly teasing him. You loved this newfound opportunity of power over him.

From your point of view, you could feel Daesung's growing need and desperation as he begged you for release. Looking up from your position between his thighs, you could see the desire and hunger in his eyes, the desperation in his pathetic little pleas that slipped from his puffy lips. The power of control, the ability to make or break him, it's exhilarating, intoxicating. Every moan, every sigh, every struggled chant of your name is the sound of surrender, the sweet taste of victory. You prolong his ecstasy, teasing and torturing him; curling your tongue around him, hollowing your cheeks, occasionally taking him to the back of your throat. Holding him at the edge of pleasure and the best kind of pain might have become your favourite hobby. His desperation grows with each passing moment, 'my God,' 'please', 'just a little more sweetheart', his words blur together.

As you continued to tease Daesung, you could see the desperation growing in his eyes, the need pulsing through his veins. His hands clutched at the sheets, his body twisting in anticipation, the very image of desire and longing. You could hear his ragged breaths, feel the heat of his skin against your own as you held him captive to your will.

Each touch, each caress, it's a cruel and calculated game, and you revel in the power you hold over him. His pleas for release only fuel your desire to torture him further, to string him along the edge of pleasure and pain. And so you continue, never relenting, never breaking, your focus unwavering, your determination unshakable. This is your domain, and you rule it with the iron fist of a goddess.

"Please, let me--please I need to--," whimpers flooded out of Daesung's mouth, it was adorable how he was too embarrassed to admit how out of control he was of his mind and body. You revelled in it. Humming in reply, albeit a little muffled--to be fair, your mouth was full. The vibration coursed through his cock and made him groan even louder.

"Oh my God--It's so good, you're too--good baby," Every sentence Daesung could conjure out of his throat was interrupted by a moan, heavy sigh, or a physical twitch, it was such a cute sight, and you were drinking it all in. You now understood why he loved overstimulating you so much, this was great. After locking your eyes with his, you felt his cock twitch again from on your flattened tongue--he was close to finishing again. So promptly, you took a deep breath through your nose and plunged down, taking him all the way--and then pulling yourself clean off of him just as fast, cutting his euphoria off before he could orgasm, which earned a high pitched sob to erupt from him. Your eyes softened at the sight of Daesung attempting to recover from teetering on the line between pleasure and ache. This was his first time doing this kind of thing, after all.

"That's three times now lovely, do you think you can hold out longer?" You asked, the last thing you wanted was to cause actual discomfort or pain. You had your left hand rubbing up and down his thigh comfortingly, and your right hand softly gripping the base of his red, overstimulated cock, fingers tapping gently along the shaft. Daesung took a minute to answer as he was absolutely flushed, wrecked, and breathless, so you gave him all the time he needed.

"I--I don't know... It feels so good, but also it's starting to hurt a bit when you stop, and not in the good way..." Daesung stutters out, his breath beginning to catch up. "I don't want to interrupt your fun..."

"Hey, hey, don't worry, it's okay, lovely," Your heart cracked a little at the latter comment, his happiness and want was the fun. “Now, we can either stop entirely, or I can make you cum for reals, no breaking off. It's up to you and what you think you can take." You let go of him now, wiping your mouth from any residues or saliva with your sleeve and leaning over him to press soft, loving kisses across his warm cheeks and forehead, flooding care and adoration in each peck. Those were some of his favourite places for your lips to touch, it was always the 'number one cure to all his ailments,' he would often proclaim.

Daesung let out a small, light chuckle, covering his eyes, embarrassed by your sweet actions, as if that was more humiliating than the compromising position he was in under you not even five minutes prior. Before you could think or react, his large arms leapt up from the sheets and wrapped around your body, holding you impossibly close. He tucked his head into your neck, hiding his face nervously, causing you to laugh at his adorable disposition, and also because soft hair was brushing gently against ticklish areas. More so the former than the latter. Daesung then mumbled something, but it was indistinguishable as whatever it was was silenced by his mouth pressing into your skin.

You 'roughly' grasped his jaw, forcing him to leave the sanctuary of the section between your neck and shoulder and look you in the eye. "What was that, hmm?" You questioned teasingly. The deep flush from before this escapade had begun had returned. You knew where this was going, you just wanted to hear him say it.

"I want us both to finish--it's not fair if it's only me feeling good here," Daesung mumbled, confessing, "but like, not orally. I need you, so bad baby. Please?"

The second you nod in consent, you feel yourself being flipped onto your back against the smooth, cool sheets, your face flushing more and more, and any feeling of dominance slipping from your grasp. Daesung hovers over you, rippling with desire as he captures your lips in a hard, needy kiss. Your hands run across his chest, your nails leaving light lines in their wake.

Feeling more pent-up than ever, Daesung urgently lifts your hips to remove your bottoms from your legs, then kneeled on the mattress between your thighs. His hand dipped down to toy with you tantalisingly slow for a little while, ensuring you were prepped for him. Not that that was really necessary, you were already soaked from earlier.

"Aww, baby girl," he cooed, "Did me being under you make you all needy, hm?" You squeaked embarrassingly in response, him talking dirty you always put you in a trance. He licked his fingertips clean and aligned his cock with your entrance, eliciting an involuntary shiver from you both. Then, He pushes inside quickly, impaling you deeply with a single thrust. The haste of his action caught you slightly off guard, a subconscious gasp left you as a result of the intrusion, a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort setting its course through your body.

The sensation was overwhelming; his muscular frame enveloped you fully as he established a hard, dependable rhythm after ensuring your discomfort had faded away. Quickly acclimating, you were consumed by desire, your cravings for more and more fuelling an everbuilding inferno of lust as the relentless pacing continued. You made no effort to conceal any calls of his name or praises that rose and fell from your throat. Glancing to your face, Daesung soaked in your delightful expression of ecstasy and concentration painted on your visage, your back arching to meet his thrusts.

You felt hands roughly grasp your hips as he drove himself somehow even deeper within you. Instinctively, your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in, whispering breathy pleas in his ear for him to go faster, harder. Oh how he loved hearing you like this--all because of him. The headboard creaked against the wall behind, a metronome for the primal symphony of your animalistic carnal need.

Feeling confidence settle within you once more, you take an opportunity when Daesung had slowed to take a breath to roll him onto his back and straddle his waist. You took control, your hands gripping his thighs behind you for stability as you rode him with passion, your movements smooth and deliberate. He groaned out in appreciation, his hands roaming your body, grazing your sensitive skin, igniting sparks of electricity at every section of you.

Daesung's strong hands slid down your back, leaning you forward, fingers returning home to your hips, taking control of your movements. Your hands took purchase of the sheets on either side of his head as he bent his knees to thrust up to meet you halfway. Your breath became increasingly more ragged, your muscles clenching around him with each thrust, the sensation of his cock swelling within you. Lost in your own mind, consumed with sensual depravity, you feel your face be pulled in for a gentle, loving kiss, tongues dancing smoothly in a dance, juxtaposing the messy, rough movements below you.

Daesung nips at your lower lip, drawing a soft gasp from you, which devolved to a moan of elation as he speeds up from beneath you. Pressure builds in your core, an impending wave of pleasure crescendoing within you, threatening to overwhelm you as the intensity of lust approaches its peak.

"Fuck--," you whisper, panting heavy breaths, "I'm so close--God Daesung!" He looked at you, deeply engraving the desperation across your complexion into his memory. You calling his name in such a erotic voice would always be material to fuel his fire with for a very long time.

"Yeah, baby?" He grunted huskily, his voice dropping several octaves in your ear. And with that, he flips you onto your stomach, raising your hips and kneeling on one knee and the other foot pressed to the mattress to ensure he'd hit the most satisfying spots to bring you to your orgasm. "I'm nearly there too, let me feel you shatter around me, baby girl. Come on."

The building pressure in you washes waves of ecstasy throughout your whole body as you tighten impossibly around him, tears forming in your eyes and lightly dusting your face in pure euphoria. Daesung let out a mix of saccharine whimpers, high moans, and indecipherable praises as he reached his own highs, your pulsing muscles eliciting every last drop out of him that he had to offer you. The two of you collapsing onto the bed below you, becoming a tangle of sweaty limbs, your chests heaving and pulses racing. Daesung pulled you close, cradling you in his strong arms, kissing all over your warm face tenderly as aftershocks began to subside.

"Was that good, sweetheart?" He asks you, you nod, far too exhausted to formulate a verbal answer. He laughs amusingly, lifting you to the ensuite bathroom to clean you from your activities. After washing up, you both drift off to a deep sleep, feeling safe and secure in each other's embrace, sated and full of love for the one in your arms.

thank you for reading!

sorry this took a little bit, i literally get so flustered writing stuff like this so i have to take a break every two minutes😀😀

[shoyoist]

now that i've read your sub julien fic i need a lil thirst for him to DOMINATE u in bed

I like to imagine him fuckin u in front of the mirror all messy <3 sorry but i cant act normal after his spread came out i love himm

──── 𝐋𝐎𝐖-𝐊𝐄𝐘 : julien loki

content: gn!reader, dom julien + mirror sex, lots of praise and sweet talk, multiple orgasms, mind-break(?) a few generic french terms of affection. a/n: literally never passing up a chance to write for a dark-skinned poc lmaoo thank you for sending this in nonnie!

sometimes, you think julien is so fucking agonizing. but in the best way — if that makes sense.

he's got those gentle eyes, that low-voiced hum, those firm hands. all the right words and all the best moves. he hypnotizes you so easily, like he's a magician and you're a pretty little pet he's picked out from his audience.

he could bite right into you, and you wouldn't even know it. because he'd be murmuring soft, sweet nothings into your skin the entire time, and the tone of his voice is enough to tip you into a daze — you'd let him do anything he wanted.

like you're doing right now.

julien has one hand wrapped around your throat, like a pretty bow-tie that's just a little too tight. his other hand squeezes at your chest, holding your body pressed firmly to his, coaxing little whines out of you with feather-light, teasing brushes of his fingertips at your sensitive nipples. you're sat in his lap, bouncing like a bobble-headed doll while he fucks up into you.

"look, chéri," he nods to the full length mirror propped up by the bed, facing your bodies. he holds your throat a little tighter, kissing the side of your neck gently as he groans with you. "lovely."

you know he doesn't even mind if you don't look, knowing that by this point you're too high on the pleasure he's giving you to respond properly — but your eyes flit to the reflection waiting before you anyway, as obedient as ever for him.

julien sits at the edge of the bed, you in his lap with your legs spread nice and wide so he can watch the way his cock slides in and out of your messy hole. both your bodies glow with a sheen of sweat, and if you look close enough, you can see tear streaks lining your face. "j—julien," you whine. "'m close. getting close."

"yeah? gonna cum for me again?" he chuckles, pressing another soft kiss to your neck. "so easy tonight."

he says that, but that's only because he's gentle with his words. magician's silver tongue. the way he's fucking you has you out of your mind — he's the one that's got you ragdoll-limp in his arms, and he's teasing you, calling you easy. "mh— julien."

your moan is sweet, but julien doesn't sound impressed when he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. "ah, shhh. use your words, love."

the pace of his cock in and out of you doesn't relent, and you're only able to let out another moan in response. his hand slips down from your chest to the space between your legs anyway, touching you just the way you like it.

"hhn, please. nearly there." you let out, and his fingers press just slightly harder, pushing you to the edge immediately. he'd tell you to hold the orgasm and wait till he allows you to cum, but he knows you're past that point. there's no playing with you anymore, fucked out and dumb on his cock.

so he pulls the high out of you like a man at a magic show with a top hat and a wand, letting go of your throat so he can press at your chest and whisper in your ear to breathe deeper and slower, knowing the orgasm lasts so much longer when you're relaxed and dozey. "there you go, mon trésor... so good for me."

his voice comes out just slightly cracked, feeling you flutter around him, tight and warm and wet. you're really so damn good.

"you can take some more, can't you?" he hums, finally bringing his hand back up, cupping your face and turning your lips to him for a kiss. "make me feel good?"

"mmm," you nod, and julien knows you're doing it mindlessly. he sees the tears in your eyes, the blank look in them. he lets out a little laugh, grabbing your hips to adjust your body. he knows you're all his for the taking. as long as he keeps giving you kisses and talking to you sweetly, you'd let him do anything.

"alright, baby." he feels his cock twitch within you, ready to empty another load inside. his grip on your body tightens once more, turning you towards the mirror. "eye-contact with yourself while i fuck you, now. good."

[dollfacefantasy]

Wash His Hair

pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader

summary: you wash leon's hair and try to help him unwind (fluff) (also, a tad hurt/comfort)

word count: 1.5k

a/n: inspired by this post from @peachscentedcandle cause it made me laugh. this post does reference the movie good will hunting, if you haven't seen it you should watch it! (after you read this of course ;) it's really good. but anyways, thank you so much for the support on my last posts (kissing u thru the phone if you reblogged or commented). as before, comments and reblogs are appreciated :) also, the divider is from here!

Leon had been exhausted lately. He tried to play it off, but you could tell. He was so much quieter since coming home from his last mission. He didn’t say much about it, but you knew it had been rough. It stretched longer than expected, and while it was a success in the end, there were some complications along the way that you knew he blamed himself for.

He’d walk around the apartment slower than usual with distance in his eyes. You tried getting him to talk about it, but he’d deny anything was wrong at all. It wasn’t like he wanted space though. You asked him if he’d like to do something to maybe get his mind off it, but all he wanted to do was relax in bed with you. Normally, you’d never complain about that; however, when you knew he was hurting, you couldn’t just push it aside. His avoidant nature was a little frustrating after a while, and if it was anyone else, you’d probably be fed up. But you knew he didn’t do it to be malicious.

You lie in bed with him, softly running your fingers through his hair. His cheek is pressed to your shoulder, his eyes staring at your bedroom wall. You try to watch him without being too obvious with your staring. Your hand on his head slides down to rub his back. You just wanted to help. You try to think of literally anything that might help get him out of this slump. You sit up a little in bed and he looks up at you to see the reason for your movement.

“I’m going to take a shower. How about you join me?” you say, breaking the silence.

It’s like you can see the excuse rising in his throat. The way he tenses a little and his eyes flit away. You could hear the thoughts in his head telling him to pull away and close the walls. Before he can, you speak.

“Please,” you say softly, trying to avoid sounding demanding, “It’ll let you unwind, Baby. I just want to help you. It will be quick and painless, I promise.” You give him a small smile, hoping to lighten his mood if only a little bit.

He looks at you for a moment more, the excuse sinking back down and the anxiety in his mind receding, before he nods. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees quietly.

It wasn’t a completely enthusiastic reaction, but it was a step in the right direction. Your smile widens, and you give him a quick peck on the forehead before you both roll out of bed. The air felt cool after being enveloped by blankets and Leon for the last few hours. You walk into the bathroom, turning the lights and the shower on. You rummage in the cabinet beneath your sink for anything that could make this even more relaxing for your boyfriend who undresses to the side of you as the water heats up.

Finally, you see a bag of shower steamers in the back. After taking one of the chalky pellets and placing it beneath the pouring water, you peel your clothes off. Leon’s gaze is fixed on your body, but there’s no lust in it right now. It’s pure adoration. The love you feel from his eyes causes heat to rise in your cheeks. You extend your hand to him, feeling his firm grasp as he takes it. The two of you step into the shower. You take a deep breath and inhale the fresh scent of oranges rising with the steam. He uses some of the hot water to push his hair back and out of his face. It may have been wishful thinking, but you would have sworn you could see his features already relaxing a bit.

Your eyes are soft as you look into his. You reach up to stroke his cheek a little, and you can feel him leaning into your touch as the warm water sprays over the two of you.

“C’mere,” you whisper and pull him into a tight hug. Your head rests where his heart is as your arms lock around his torso. You plant a kiss on the slippery skin of his chest and slowly start rubbing his back. “It’s not your fault.”

He doesn’t say anything, and for a moment, you worry you may have upset him. But he doesn’t move. His arms stay wrapped around you with his chin propped on top of your head.

“Just have your Good Will Hunting moment, Babe. It’s not your fault,” you say again, trying to reassure him a bit without it being so much that he’d pull away.

He amusedly exhales and squeezes his arms around you tighter. He doesn’t say anything for a while, but that’s okay with you. The shower continues pouring down on you and the steam clouds the air further.

“I love you,” he says simply. His voice sounds less deflated. The subtle improvement in his tone makes your heart glow.

“I love you too,” you say, slowly nuzzling his chest. You kiss his collar bone a few times, trying to elevate his mood further. Even though the progress was small, you could feel the shower washing away the gloom that had been surrounding him since he came home. “Let me wash your hair now,” you offer.

You reach for his shampoo, but he stops you, gently grabbing your wrist. He pulls it across the shelf in the shower to where your things sit. “Use yours,” he says softly.

You beam at the request and kiss his cheek. His eyes were starting to lose the fog of exhaustion. He still looked tired but not beaten down. You grab your shampoo and squirt the liquid into your hand. He didn’t care if it wasn’t good for his hair type or anything like that, he just wanted your smell on him.

You rub the shampoo over your palms into a soapy lather. Leon tilts his head down to give you a better angle. You run your hands through his hair, lovingly scratching his scalp as you work the bubbles through his blonde locks. He shuts his eyes and nearly purrs while your fingers massage his head. You press tender kisses to both of his cheeks and nose before directing his head under the shower head to rinse.

The stress and guilt melt away under the hot water and your affection. You’re nearly petting him as you guide the soap out of his hair. He lets out a deep breath after inhaling the steam. He zones out as you start conditioning his hair. He only comes back as he feels you rubbing a wash cloth over the muscles of his chest and arms. His eyes slowly open and watch you spread the soap across his body.

You smile up at him as you move to his abdomen. “You still with me?” you say with a little teasing in your voice.

He hums in response and shuts his eyes again. You soothingly wash the rest of his body and then rinse him off. You quickly take care of yourself as he continues to relax under the flow of water. When you’re done, you give him a sweet kiss to bring him out of his stupor and shut the water off. The two of you step out of the shower hand in hand. You pass him a towel and you both dry off. He starts for the closet, but you take him by the arm and lead him to your bed.

“Don’t get dressed yet. Just sit back, take it easy, and let me help you really relax,” you say before kissing him yet again. He watches you as you get your lotion and begin rubbing it into your palms. You work the cream over his body, paying extra attention to the places you could feel his tension. The smell fills the air and puts him further at ease.

You glide around so you’re kneeling on the bed behind him, kneading the muscles of his shoulders and back. You kiss and nuzzle his neck. He lets out a soft noise of pleasure.

“There you go, Baby. Let it all go. There’s nothing to worry about right now,” you coo as you continue your soothing caresses. He’s like putty in your hands as you continue loving on him.

You finish your makeshift massage once you felt his skin couldn’t be any smoother. The two of you dress in fresh clothes before climbing into bed, getting comfy between the pillows and blankets. You tangle your limbs with Leon and kiss his head. “See, this feels even better than before, right?” you whisper.

He nods and shifts his position so that he’s nearly on top of you. He kisses your neck softly. He was so soft and smelled like you. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

“No thanks needed, my love,” you say and return the kiss to the side of his head.

“But I want you to hear it, need to make sure you know,” he whispers.

You run your hand through his clean hair and cradle his head in the crook of your neck. “I know. You don’t have to worry about that either. I like doing this,” you reassure, “Just try to get some real rest now.”

He hums and gives you one more kiss before shutting his eyes. You feel him drifting off above you, at peace for the moment.

[lovemomhatepolice]

lando norris nswf alphabet (part 2!) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) There is no chance that Lando will ever in his life ask you for anal sex or agree to it. NO CHANCE. Ever since he first heard about it in his life, it has disgusted and disturbed him so much at the same time that he stands away.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Well, don't tell me Lando doesn't look like a munch. Totally do. Okay, he's also a big fan of you on your knees in front of him, until it takes his breath away as he looks at you all smeared with his cum with a wide smile and trained lips. But oh boy! He sometimes begs you to lie down in front of him and let him give you pleasure. The biggest plus is that Lando is well trained in this. Damn knows where he acquired such skills, but they are unearthly.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Fast, but not violent. It's already in Lando's nature to speed everything up, but it's not painful in the process. With the rest, slow sex is not for you. Well, I beg you, where would all the fun be? The whole process is a little slower when Lando finally pushes you to the wall and your relationship is not in any comfortable place, but he continues to try to keep his cool.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) You love quickies. What more can be said here? You can't keep your hands off each other, so every possible opportunity to get even closer is even advisable. You definitely prefer it more, of course, when you have more time (and, most importantly, space), but when there is no such chance, quick fun together is fine for you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Norris has it in him that he likes to take risks - he doesn't spare himself from hot kisses with you in public or even light pinches or pats on your buttocks. But if the matter comes down to sex, I don't think he's taking too many risks. Lando respects his privacy after all, so sexual matters remain between you. Possibly in front of the whole club when you come out of the restroom quite smudged and giggly. Or in front of his family, well. What goes in the family doesn't die, right?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) As much as you want. Really. Lando I think is pretty darn sturdy and can fly several rounds at a time, which is no surprise to you. More than once, with light breaks, you spent the whole night like that. Sometimes it would even start to dawn and you would be in each other's naked embrace, the hot temperature of the room and a mass of giggles.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) No, he doesn't own any toys. He just doesn't have any - he's not a contrarian, he himself even bought his friend an inflatable doll for his birthday. In your relationship he would sooner use some on you, so 100%, if you own a vibrator, Lando will reach for it at some point and see how it works on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Lando is so damn teasing! Once he will rub up against you, once he will "accidentally" touch you somewhere, once he will whisper such ungodly things to you, and then he will leave without a word. And during sex? I beg to differ. If only he has the strength to do so, he will interrupt until the last moment before your climax, just to hear your voice admonishing him in the midst of your moans.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Ay Lando is loud. In every possible aspect of his life, so in bed too. If he doesn't talk during sex, you definitely won't have it quietly anyway. Norris often giggles, and when he's not giggling, he's pretty darn vocal. Oj this boy is definitely not afraid to moan and show that he feels like heaven thanks to you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He loves, well he so much loves to brand you. He gets the same way when you bestow a hickey on his neck. Raspberries on your breasts? That's the standard. In summer it's hard to hide the signs of love from Lando under dresses and short tops. But that's what he loves. He proudly shows off whether it's his neck or his chest.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Well I think above average. Although Lando is not some particularly tall and massive, that's what his advantage is. I'm telling you that there's something about his pants that you don't expect ;P

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) God. Huge. As I mentioned before - you can't take your hands off each other. If you could, you would fuck each other every day. No matter what way - any way would be good. That's why yes, the sex drive Lando threw up when he first met you. And no matter what you do or what you're wearing! Remember

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Ay, it depends on the moment. Anyone who knows Lando knows well that he happens to fall asleep in the least expected places and circumstances. This is also the case after your sex, but by the fact that there are a lot of emotions in between, he has to talk them out first, and only then can he go to sleep. After proper after care on your part and his, you both fall asleep in each other's embrace (Lando on your breasts)

A/N: part one if you miss it, english is my second language i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open, and I am very close to 200 followers! maybe I can get in by the end of the week?

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[the-moon-files]

I love the idea of humans being space orcs. I’ve always wondered about the potential differences between Hylians and Humans some of my ideas include:

Humans are heavier than Hylians (they have bird-like bones)

Hyrule is the lightest of the links since is half fairy (personal hc)

A hit that would break a Hylian’s bones, just majorly bruises a human

Reader can carry multiple small links or a bigger link

They are limited by the size of the Link being carried, not weight

Reader is shorter than Time (personal hc), so it’s a little awkward carrying him in smaller spaces

Can double carry (piggy back one Link on their back, carry another one on their front) easily

Will carry both Four and Hyrule, going through portals and after since they both get sick (personal hc)

I feel like Twilight would initially be the Link most resistant to being picked up, shaped as a Hylian or Wolfie, when they are first picked up. They just freeze for a solid minute or two before relaxing. He loves it after that.

More resistant to weather (heat & cold)

Have iron stomachs (compared to Hylians)

Humans can eat pretty much every plant and not get sick unlike their Hylian counterparts

Can easily eat Hyrule’s cooking, it may not taste as nice but it’s still edible

Wild pouring in Gordon spice is still palatable, like eating a dorito (not really spicy, just adds flavor)

As a population, humans expand faster (more fertile, pregnancy is shorter than Hylians)

It’ll blow their minds if you have 2+ siblings

I mean, is there even a large Hylian family (I think once I saw a family with 3 kids once?) (imagine if they saw the show 19+ kids and counting)?

Resistant to magic, but also can’t use any

Hyrule’s magic healing does nothing, good thing humans don’t get injured easily

It’s okay Rulie, it’s not your fault

Humans heal slower than Hylians (since in Wild’s world they can eat and instantly recover)

Hylian metal is thin compared to what humans use

I don’t know why, but I just imagine it like thick aluminum foil, very pliable, but resistant to cuts and stabs

Could you imagine human!reader finding a dent in Times armor, and just smoothing out the dent with their bare hands

Four is probably swooning in the background

Also shows how dangerous their enemies are compared to humans

Earth doesn’t have Hylian monsters, all of Earths monsters are just evil/bad humans

Wind is astonished you can swim against the tide with ease

Their Hyrule’s ocean currents are 1/2 as strong as Earths

Think of Hyrule’s stormy oceans as swimming in a strong lap pool (you know those small long skinny pools with a current so you can swim straight in them and go no where?)

To end all of this, could you just imagine, the Chain and human are fighting a group of monsters. Human’s sword breaks (one of Wild’s), so human throws the sword away, they look defenseless so the monsters target the, all Links are freaking out, so what does human do? They start punching, kicking, and decking every monster in the face. Turns out humans are Hylian One Punch Man (/men?). Their punches are lethal if it hits the right spot. Link (all of them) is dumbfounded, how are they that strong? Are our monsters weak to them? How strong are their monsters? They don’t have any?-well it makes sense,if all humans can do that then they clearly eradicated them all!

Sorry for taking all of your time and spamming you with my thoughts, I just love, love, LOVE, the idea of humans being space orcs to Hylians!!!

AHHHHH I cant believe so many ppl (like 3?) are into the humans are space orcs to Hylians AU :’)

erratic bits i wanna add on to ur incredible list u got going on here

Sun: Masc/Male!Reader (he/him)

Orbit: ERRATIC Headcanons, ADHD-influenced headcanons, if you will

Stars: little bit of all the Chain

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild typical loz violence, mild cussing, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

I SUBCSCRIBEEE TO MAMMAL BASED HUMAN ANATOMY VS. AVIAN BASED HYLIANS

like how tf else u livin in the sky?? lol

or riding all those birds and creatures, like ofc u weigh on avg exactly 8 apples lmao (btw i got this from botw, where someone tested how much Link weighs for game physics and it was about 8 apples i think)

smth about u being a game nerd boy, may or may not be that fit, and yet goes to take a blow for a Link that had them all wincing, only to walk away with a nasty bruise like,

yes pls be impressed by me literal versions of Link from Legend of Zelda, along with now being real life heroes who have literally fought evil itself and won <3333

would literally start flexing my (nonexistent) muscles like LMAOO

that's going straight to my head ngl

like can u imagine the amount of times you have to resist just sweeping a Link up to princess carry them around?? like poor boy you've always done the princess carrying, allow me 🫴 (gentlemanly bows with hand out for him to take) LMAO

Gay tension thru the ROOF one time u playfully did this lol

some of them rlly out here trying to find a reason not to be picked up like??

Twilight: look u can pick me up, but im too big compared to you so it just wont work out…

You, seconds away from ur dream of picking up Twilight Princess Link, not about to stop now: SO WHAT ur bigger than me? All the more room to get a good hold on you babieee >:)

and Time,

Time: i have armor on, and im taller than you. itd be awkward, i can just lean on you until we can splint my ankl-

You: u think the little details gonna stop me? cute, get on my back rn. 😐

on another related carrying Links note,

BRO U BEAT ME TO IT!!

I thought as soon as I posted other ask abt this abt how Rulie/Four get sick and how others have had to carry them before,

but with you here??

Rulie and Four are livvinggggg >>>

so if we go on bird hylians theory, they actually have a higher body temp (bird base contribute to burning thru food quicker too? birds have a higher metabolism too right? would make more sense with how they consume food a lot for both healing and bc they hungrier more often than humans)

so u know that feeling of being nauseous, laying stomach down on the cold bathroom floor or smth and suddenly all ur problems are solved?

Hyrule and Four getting carried by u, their lovely Guide become physical, after portals ^^^

getting carried by u/physical affection from u is by far the best thing to come out of you becoming physical, all links have secretly decided lol

so unlike previous posts, if we’re being more true to humans are space orcs/australians tumblr side, i think I've heard over there abt eating/human diets being radically different a lot!

like how originally caffeine/capsican (the spicy part of peppers) was poison, or kept animals from eating that plant bc that was their defense,

then humans came along, said, “hm, makes my mouth tingle, more energy, i like it.”

and then made coffee, energy drinks, and a million spicy dishes/snacks worldwide lmao

anyway the Links are scared lol

esp after u talk abt stuff like this, or try Goron spice

my fav scifi idea thing i ran into somewhere was how these aliens gave their human meat to eat, human got curious (which, human curiosity a whole different beast of a post to get into, so many ideas)

and tried to gnaw on bones, like u do with stuff like ribs u know, and then broke the bone, found the marrow tasted great, and then the bone was so flimsy/broke down so much that they ate it too lol

So now, imagine the Chain did that to you LMAO

Four/Wild/Wind are fascinated by ur bone/jaw strength, Wars/Hyrule/Sky/Twi are mildly horrified but cant look away, Legend and Time are surprised but also at the stage of just acceptance of ur human bullshit lmao

unrelated to above, abt the fertility thing

one side of my family is super big (mom is 1 of 5, one of which is her identical twin) then each of them had about 3 kids, then some of my cousins are now having their own 1-2 kids, along with some of my adopted cousins thrown in/somebodies stepkids or like divorced situation where they sometimes show up to this side of the family, like 💀

Chain want to hear everything about ur family ngl if ur in a situation like this lol

the absolute shock on their faces after u tell them about twins/triplets/quintuplets/etc. existing lol

Bro, the amount of things I could talk abt with magic resistant reader pros/cons, like have u ever seen that in animes before? where it'll have a character who can negate stuff?

its so OP, it might just be worth not being able to use their magic much in hyrule

so i included that gif bc a scenario i can totally see happening that i didnt get to include in other posts is a guardian firing a laser at you and it just,, bounces off

or gets kinda absorbed, like maybe you got the equivalent burn of like touching a hot pan, stings for like an hour then is gone by the end of the day

Wild would literally not let go of you or let you out of his sight if he saw that happen poor thing ToT

Guardians were already so tricky for the Chain, esp black blooded (robots have blood? unclear)

then ur ass shows up all heat resistant to their world, and ur slow ass gets got by the beam, everyone’s horrified and poor boys are regretting you ever getting a physical form, bro you think your dead-

and then u just sit up, chest kinda burny, but just like described above, not even a real burn

even better, the guardian takes out ur weapon and u just have to like, square up to a guardian ASFHLJSL-

tbh most battles ur absolutely set,

u got magic resistance, so like wizzrobes who are all magic-based do nothing to you, u can literally punch ur way out a situation, as long as u keep ur guard up ur good, but even if u get hit physically, like u said, bruises at worst, bc at worst in a battle you'd get a broken bone

maybe if something had the strength to like, sever a limb, a step up from broken bones, then they manage to actually bruise u badly + cut you or smth

so basically ur biggest challenge in battles is working up the courage to get into them LMAO

like u know that thing from Oot with the bloody hands and shit?? dead hand or redead or smth?? skulltulas???? (esp if u have phobias related to it, like having arachnophobia like me for skulltulas💀)

Chain: Charge! cmon Guide!

You: I got your back girl! …from over here!

ur so perfect for fighting and ur biggest obstacle is just how fucking terrifying fighting that shit irl would be 😭 😭

the Links don't give u battle advice really, they instead just have to encourage you so you'll be less afraid and can fight LMAO

(makes sense to them tho bc ur world doesn't have these same monsters, most of them tbh would've had a harder time relating before this adventure, bc now they get to a new hyrule with entirely diff monsters they can relate more lol)

(Oh, and yes. Four is honest to god falling in love with you all over again seeing you sharpen edges of swords by pinching ur fingers, or dipping ur hand in lava casually to help the harder metals soften, or smooth out dents in armor. Time may have also felt some type of way the first time you reached out and smoothed a dent right in the middle of his chest.)

☆

could've said SO much more, but my ideas sometimes go too quick for my fingers to type, so this was all i could catch for now

dw ill never shut up about this AU so ill prob get them all out eventually, GOD i wanna write a male!reader fic with this so bad

but i keep forcing myself to at least finish 1/3 fics im updating rn before i launch into another lol

TYSM for this!!

I LOVE hearing ppls idea abt this AU, esp if u include male/gen neutral reader, like just take my heart ig <333

Sorry abt the late reply btw!! :’(

Peace out Daicinia,

🌙

[xo-myloves]

🧛‍♀️-YOU HAVE TO DO A PART 2 TO DADDYS GIRL, IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD

Like maybe london gets really pissed and storms off and like the reader is super emotional so she can't really think straight and Slash kinda takes advantage of that and fucks her (like filthy smut) and then at the end it could be like fluffy with slash being like I love u or whatever (Once again only if u wanna)

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷

𝙰/𝚗: I will say I didn’t add slash taking advantage of her, because that felt kinda wrong, but I hope this works y’know? I just didn’t feel comfortable, and when I tried to write it, it didn’t fit. Sorry <3

༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞

The air in the room felt thick, suffocating.

London’s voice still echoed in your ears, sharp with rage, betrayal dripping from every syllable. He had stormed out before you could say a word, the front door slamming so hard the walls seemed to shake.

You were frozen in place, heart hammering in your chest. Guilt crawled up your spine like ice, settling deep in your stomach.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your voice barely there.

Behind you, Slash exhaled slowly. “Yeah.”

You turned to him, eyes burning. “What the fuck did we do?”

His jaw tightened, fingers running through his wild curls. “You don’t need me to answer that.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, a wave of emotion crashing down all at once—shame, guilt, but worst of all, that lingering, undeniable desire still humming under your skin.

“I—I should go after him,” you muttered, but your legs wouldn’t move.

Slash stepped forward, watching you carefully, his expression unreadable. “He needs space.”

“He hates me now,” you choked out, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Slash sighed, stepping closer, his voice softer. “He doesn’t hate you.”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “How the fuck would you know?”

“Because I know my son,” he said simply.

Tears finally slipped down your cheeks, hot and relentless. “God, I’m such a fucking mess.”

Slash hesitated for a moment before reaching out, his rough fingers brushing against your arm. You should’ve pulled away. You should’ve hated him for this.

But instead, you collapsed into him.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest, his warmth seeping into your bones. You felt like you were unraveling, and he was the only thing holding you together.

“Hey,” he murmured, tilting your chin up so you’d look at him. His dark eyes searched yours, intense and unreadable. “This wasn’t just you. Don’t take all the blame.”

You swallowed hard. “But he—”

“I know,” he said, his voice low, calm. “But I’m not gonna let you fall apart over this.”

His thumb brushed away your tears, lingering just a little too long. The air shifted again, thick with something dangerous. You were vulnerable, cracked open, and he was standing so fucking close.

“Slash—”

“I got you,” he whispered.

And then his lips were on yours.

It wasn’t rushed like before—it was slow, deep, intentional. His hands slid up your back, pulling you even closer, like he needed this just as badly as you did. Like he needed you.

You whimpered against his mouth, fingers gripping his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. His touch was different now—not just lust, but something deeper, something that made your chest ache.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot against your skin.

You nodded, unable to speak, unable to think.

Slash guided you toward the couch, easing you down with a gentleness you didn’t expect. He kissed you again, slower this time, like he was memorizing every inch of you. His hands traced over your skin, soothing, worshipping.

And for a little while, you let yourself get lost in him.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

The quiet hum of the city outside filled the room as you lay tangled together, your body pressed against his, your breathing finally steady. Slash’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back, his other hand resting in your hair.

“You okay?” he asked, voice rough with exhaustion.

You didn’t know how to answer.

Before you could, his phone buzzed.

Slash groaned, reaching for it lazily. But the second he saw the caller ID, his body went rigid.

Your stomach twisted. “What?”

He hesitated, then answered. “Yeah?”

Silence.

Then, his face paled.

“What hospital?”

Your heart dropped.

Slash shot up, grabbing his jeans in a hurry. “It’s London,” he said, voice tight, controlled. “He’s been in a car accident.”

The world tilted.

You barely registered Slash helping you up, grabbing your jacket, rushing you toward the door.

The guilt, the regret, the fear—it all came crashing down at once.

And you had no idea what the fuck was about to happen next.

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Pirates Do Pilates- Kinktober Week One

Ilsa Faust x Fem!Reader

MINORS DNI 18+

Summary: A mission gone awry leads to a cramped hideaway in a vent. What could go wrong?

Kinks: Forced proximity, sex in tight spaces, pussy eating, 69, squirting, forced muffling.

Warnings: This is a Kinktober fic and just pure smut. If you read this as a minor, (and I see that you've read it by checking the age in your bio following your like) YOU WILL GET BLOCKED!

A/N: Starting off Kinktober with a bang ;)

Word Count: 2.9k

Reblogs and comments are encouraged and appreciated!

In the cramped, stale air of the vents, Ilsa’s breathing echoed grotesquely, sliding off of the walls in wet puffs. Your breaths were as raspy as hers, lungs burning as you tried to quiet them. Every puff of air traveled down, skittering off the walls and potentially giving away your location. Taking larger, slower breaths was better than trying to force anemic, barely there whisps of air like Ilsa. The risk of being detected for the sound of your breathing was minimal, there was no sense trying to force oneself to be quiet. Ilsa’s breathing got heavier, more painful sounding. You couldn’t blame her, this position sucked. The mission had required sneaking into a russian outpost to steal away a blueprint for the next big weapon of mass destruction. It was boring, basic, and otherwise uninteresting. And it went well. That was until one of your tools had tripped a detection alarm. Who puts lead in a wristwatch anyways? Climbing into the vents was a last ditch effort to stay safe, but you’d both entered it differently.

Your coverage to escape detection was a slab of concrete about six feet wide and three feet tall. Behind it lay your hiding spot. The concrete blocked a section of the air vent, thus making your position undetectable by thermal cameras and metal detectors. Being trapped in a vent together for a mission wasn’t ideal, and it would’ve been bearable. That was if you hadn’t entered the vent like you had. Ilsa had done the sensible thing, climbing into it head first, face down. You’d swung your legs in so that you were on your back. The maneuver was so quick that neither of you noticed the problem until you were trapped in that small space, her knees on either side of your head and her face inches from your crotch. Both of your bodies had to stay behind the block, and this is where the trouble began. Being the senior agent on this mission, Ilsa had the responsibility of teaching you to learn from your mistakes, but in this moment she was the one suffering for them.

You could hear her breathing getting worse as she continued holding a plank to avoid touching you. It was professional, and courteous, but she’d been at this for at least fifteen minutes, and the strain was obvious. Wheezes and gasps came more frequently, making it clear just how tired she was. Speaking was deadly in such a noise conducting space which left morse code as your way of communicating.

“D/O/W/N.” you tapped out on her thigh, firm enough for her to feel it through her oppressive leather leggings.

Ilsa didn’t comply. If you had been able to see past her ass, you would’ve watched her vehemently shake her head, determined to push through. There was no pushing through this, she was exhausting herself needlessly. Again you tapped out a command.

“D/O/W/N B/R/E/A/T/H L/O/U/D.”

Ilsa muttered a small curse, a sound made detectable due to the metal of the vents. It didn’t echo as far as it could have, but the both of you tensed as the sound slithered away into the vent. Her abdomen began to tremble, breathing growing louder and more punctuated as she fought a losing battle. Ilsa’s stubbornness would get you both killed, it didn’t take experience to see that. Pressing down on her hips caused the plank to crack, and she slumped atop your body. There was no noise of protest, just slower and more controlled breaths as her tired abs were given rest. She didn’t dare move, and you didn’t either. It was uncomfortable, your view was the dim outline of her ass against metal, but it was temporary. Both of you laid without comment, balanced grotesquely like a yin-yang. Minutes passed without interruption. Heat grew between you, the weight and material of your leather bodysuits conducting and roasting you both in the claustrophobic space. Sweat trickled down your brow, and again you heard her breathing worsen. There was no way to access your own zipper in this position, her body covered yours and the position kept Ilsa’s inaccessible to herself.

“H/O/T C/L/O/T/H/E O/F/F H/E/L/P” Ilsa tapped your thigh, just as you were sure you were going to be boiled alive in your gear.

The heat was mutual, it seemed. Taking in another big breath, Ilsa mustered the strength to lift herself off of your body. Your hand fumbled in between your bodies, groping around depressingly until you found her zipper, pulling the suit open. The angle made it impossible for you to grab your own zipper, so Ilsa intervened, reaching under her body and roving around your chest with her fingers until she found the zipper and yanked down. Desperate rustling ensued as you both tore off the leather, leaving only your loose undershirts. You swore you saw her skin steam, and it clicked just how hot she would have been, trying to maintain a plank in that jumpsuit for as long as she had. It made the endeavor all the more commendable, and the feeling of air on her skin must have been twice as liberating. The vent echoed as Ilsa sighed, slumping atop you again. 

“P/A/N/T/S” she lazily commanded. 

The pants should come off too, you silently agreed. Reaching for the zippers on the sides of her calf was easier, and you were able to completely rid each other of the garments without much maneuvering, except for raising the hips briefly. Again she sighed, resting her head on your thigh as air caressed her sweaty skin. Neither of you gave much of a shit about being in tank tops and underpants around each other, not when you’d both been minutes away from cooking. You’d been in worse straits, but the immediate relief of discomfort made this one memorable.

A peaceful silence filled the vent, and the two of you simply relaxed, waiting for the search to stop. The security below was good, but not good enough to discover, let alone guess where you’d hidden away. The two of you were persevering enough to stay camped out here until they gave up the search and blamed the disappearance of plans on an intern. The facility light below turned off, leaving the vents in total darkness. Lesser agents would’ve scurried away at this moment, but Ilsa knew better. She’d taught you better. The two of you weren’t out of the clear yet. 

Ilsa’s breaths felt more pronounced now, the rise and fall of her chest and the weight of her body on yours felt striking in the darkness of the vent. The more you focused, the more you could feel her breath ghosting over your thighs, sweaty head pressed lazily against the curve of your hip. In any other context this position would’ve been exciting, but this was your senior mission partner, and thus there couldn’t be anything sensual about it. Sure, agents were notorious for hooking up when on long term missions like this one, but never once had Ilsa ever made a move on you. Private lives weren’t on the table for discussion, so you’d always assumed she had a reason to refrain from hooking up. She was pretty, experienced, and probably more than acquainted with living a double life. Physical proximity blended with emotional distance made your relationship all the more befuddling. You’d both caught each other masturbating in the shower on several occasions, but it was never discussed. The door was just closed, and you waited until the other was done before you returned. Agents did what they had to do to stay sane on missions. That included never speaking about what they did to stay sane.

The vents were getting colder now. The heat of her body and metal beneath your back kept you insulated enough to hardly feel the chill. Her breathing grew shallower as she relaxed, making the breaths against your thigh more conspicuous. There was a new smell in the shaft too. Earthy, sharp, even musky. You couldn’t tell if you liked the smell or not, it was just odd and all encompassing. Even if you tilted your head in the attempt to dispel it from your nostrils, you couldn’t. The next several minutes of distraction consisted of trying to guess what it was. The distraction was only so good, and soon your awareness returned to your own sensations.

Ilsa’s breath was ghosting over your inner thighs more regularly as she waited, soft puffs of air curving down, sliding over that intimate flesh just below your panties. Soft, barely there caresses, teasing the tiny hairs, tickling them and drawing your awareness exactly where it definitely should not be. The sensation was driving you up a wall, igniting an inescapable conundrum of conscious feeling in your mind. Not only was it aggravating, your body was responding to it. Toes curling, goosebumps erupting, and worse, a distant throb in your pelvis. As you processed the first sensation of wetness against your panties you knew you were screwed. From front to back, side to side, posterior to anterior, and from the top of your head down to your big toe. Screwed.

Sure, it was pitch black, and there was no way she could see, but fuck, her face was right there. In this twilight where senses were heightened by the lack of other stimulation, there was no way she wouldn’t smell something. The smell from before was getting stronger as your breathing got heavier. It was everywhere now, and as you tilted your head up to figure out where it was coming from, the tip of your nose found its source. Slightly damp, musky, and definitely biological, you realized too late what you had been smelling, and you realized that your breath had tortured Ilsa as much as hers tortured you. 

“Hey-” Ilsa shrieked at the contact, cutting herself off with her hand as the sound echoed down the vents.

Below, the sound of boots was heard hitting the ground in rapid succession, following the echo of the vents right below where you and Ilsa were hiding. Your breathing accelerated, and that too became acutely obvious in the sound-conductive metal shaft. In a moment of panic, a desperate attempt to muffle your breaths, Ilsa pressed herself down, muffling you with exactly what had been the cause of this faux pas. Her pussy.

All you could process, all you could feel was Ilsa’s panty covered cunt muffling your breaths, bearing her pubic down against your chin, skull pressed against the metal vent. Your nose was covered, and you desperately opened your mouth, breathing through the cloth of her underwear to gather enough air to function. You were muffled, but at what cost? Every single breath taken in was mingled with the smell and the subtle taste of her arousal. Ilsa’s breathing was just as obvious as yours had been a moment earlier and as the bootsteps drew closer, Ilsa, whether out of spite or tortuous ingenuity, buried her face against your pussy. Not a single wisp of sound was heard in the vent, clumsy footsteps and distant shouting erupting as the scouts lost their trail. The two of you lay there, breathing around the other’s fluttering sex. Minutes passed like this, the insufferable torment of the most mild stimulus conceived against both of your aching pussies, leaving the both of you in a purgatory of almost-sensation.

Your senior mission partner, whether out of wisdom or madness, (you couldn’t be sure), was the one who broke the tension. Ilsa’s tongue darted out, tracing the subtle lines of your labia with her tongue through your panties. Slow, delicate patterns, machinations of desire causing a delicious tension to form in your very center. The moan of relief you delivered was muffled by her pussy, but she squeezed your thigh viciously regardless. The message was clear: You had to be quiet. Not a sound, not a gasp or a whimper. The price of deliverance was steep, but there were ways to pay it forward. You were kinder to Ilsa than she was to you, pulling her gusset to the side before you traced her gaping entrance with your tongue. Her smell was inviting, now that you could identify it. The lack of light made the experience purely tactile and olfactory, occasionally audible if you moved your tongue or lips clumsily enough to cause a squelch. 

With every soft lick, Ilsa’s cunt fluttered, winking open and closed, beckoning you further. It was a soft feast of flesh and tongue, your lips delicately tasting her arousal as the two of you descended deeper into madness. (Or bliss).

Ilsa, motivated by your soft stimulation, pulled your panties free of your thighs, leaning down and rolling your clit between her lips and tongue. The hard points of her teeth dug in around the flesh of your clitoris, the nerve brushing against the sides as her tongue rolled it in tantalizingly slow circles. Though she couldn’t speak, deprived of all noise except the rush of air in and out of her nose, her body spoke, begging for more with soft flutters, flirtatious drops of arousal, and most overtly, by the press of her hips down against your face. 

Her hips danced in slow circles, rubbing her clitoris into your mouth as your nose pressed against the wet ridges of her opening, spearing it open and closed with wet plops of air as the rocking continued. Every lick was rewarded, every devout act of passion returned. Her hands dug into your thighs, using the muscle as leverage to push her hips down and face forwards again and again and again. Your arms found purchase around her hips, fingers tracing the dimples of venus that rested just above the curve of her ass. The delicate rocking continued, you both cradling the other as the debauchery continued.

Every cant of her hips made her smell more prominent, her taste more concentrated, the warmth of her flesh more noticeable until you were drowning in it. Your lips latched to her clit, tongue rolling over it in a tender, infinite figure eight. Ilsa followed your example, dragging the both of you closer to a release as she spread your labia open to deliver a firmer suck to your engorged clitoris. The wet sounds that filled the vent weren’t subtle, the threat of discovery still remained ever present, but what mattered to you both was finally, finally getting off. The scouts had left this room anyways, and if they were going to kill you it’d better be after the two of you climaxed. 

The soft rolling of Ilsa’s hips evolved into regular circles as she delighted in the pull of her clit in and out of your mouth as you suckled fervently. She returned the favor with the laps of her tongue, fingers tugging your clitoral hood back entirely. Her breath wooshed over your entrance as she nipped and sucked at your clit, teasing the coil of release higher and tighter until your legs clenched painfully. The action was deceptive, Ilsa orgasming first. She breathed heavily out of her nose as her cunt violently fluttered around your nose. Whatever plans you had to enjoy the moment were ripped away by her desire to share the moment. She took out all of her pleasure on your poor clit, suckling so violently that your body throbbed from your pussy, up to your neck and back down to your toes as your body trembled in a violent attempt to stay quiet. White stars exploded around your eyelids, arousal dribbling out of your hole and urethra as your body felt stimulation through every angle. You kept your mouth against her cunt, muffling yourself lest a single sound escape. 

The moment faded away, leaving the two of you heaving for air, as close as you’d ever been. Neither of you could handle another, remaining limp and breathy as you processed your highs. 

Rest wasn’t available to agents, even post-coital. Ilsa’s watch vibrated, alerting her that an exit had opened up. Scrambling for clothes, the two of you managed to slip on about half of your suits, crawling out of the vents and slipping through the facility as fast as humanly possible. Your legs wobbled, her knee almost gave out. It was a high in itself, escaping with her like this.

←→

Inside the safehouse your high continued. Giggling like school girls and playfully shoving the other out of the way, the post-mission high had never been so dizzying. You were both tearing off your clothes, desperate to be the first into the shower, to wash the sweat and fluids off. She was a mean fighter, dragging you onto the floor by your half-off undershirt, you snagged her ankle so she fell on her front. Even as you achieved victory, the coldest, most heavenly burst of water raining down over your flushed skin, she still wasn’t done fighting. Slipping in the cramped stall, Ilsa manhandled you out of the way, pinning you to the wall as she scrubbed her face under the showerhead.

“Bitch.” you snarked, slapping her ass 

“Yeah, well you squirted on my fucking face.”

The two of you stared at each other in silence, water thrumming against the shower walls as you both processed.

“... Am I supposed to apologize for something you enjoyed?”

You both erupted in giggles again, limbs and suds tangling together as you took turns scrubbing the other clean of your fun. What was October without a budding romance?

Tags: @ilovehotactresses @marvelwomenrule @midnight-lestrange

If you want to be added to my tag list for Kinktober (or generally), please let me know!

[lateatnewyork]

Lilies

part I | part II | part III | part IV

Helion x reader, rhysand x sister!reader

Warnings: fluff, making out, honeymoon bliss, suggestive

Summary: In which you and Helion are happy.

a/n most definitely another filler chapter but the one with drama will be out tmrrw and my schools starting in like four days so the drafts will come out slower

Helion was the best mate anyone could ever ask for. He could cook, he understood my emotions, gave me space, could give amazing cuddles and kisses, he was great in bed but most of all he cared.

In a sense no one had ever done before. When I wanted him home, he was home. When I visited him during a meeting he made me sit in his lap and glared at anyone who decided to mention it.

We had been mated for at least 6 months by now. And it was absolute bliss. Every single day he would wake me up with his head between my legs, every single night he would worship me like a queen. His kisses made my knees weak and my head dizzy.

Sighing at the thought of him kissing me, I continue trying my best at a dish that Rhysand used to cook for me as a child.

Just as I’m about ditch the recipe and head to his office, a strong pair of arms wrap around me.

Melting into his touch, I lean back. He kisses my neck and bites at my soft spot making me moan softly.

“Hey baby,” turning around my hands run through his beautiful hair. His lips find mine almost instantly. My back presses against the counter and I arch into his touch. Pulling him closer my fingers stray to the hem of his shirt.

“As much as I would love to continue this, I have to tell you something,” he pulls away. My kind is still reeling from his intense kisses. Nodding, I ask him to keep going.

“The Night Court wants to negotiate some stuff with us,” he told me.

Raising an eyebrow I beckon him to continue. “I want you to come with me, your first appearance outside of Day Court as High Lady, and I know what you’re going to say, that you’re not ready or you’re not sure, but I know that you’re ready, I also know how much you miss your brother and your nephew,”

He was right, I mean when was Helion ever wrong?

“I suppose Nyx should meet his uncle,” I sigh dramatically.

“Can you help me make this dish, Rhysand used to make it for me,” I ask him.

“Rhysand can cook?” he gapes at me in shock. “You can cook too sweetheart,” I lay a soft kiss on his adam’s apple and start gathering the ingredients.

“I know what you’re trying to make, you relax I’ll make it for you,” Helion says pressing kisses against my shoulder.

He’s elbow deep in flour, looking like an absolute vision. His golden eyes glint in the sun, his tan skin more prominent as the sun started setting.

We had decided to get this house because of its position and how the sun was almost always reflecting some room.

In the mornings it was our bedroom, during the day it was the seating area outside and during the evening it always seeped into the kitchen.

Not that I was complaining, it made the Day High Lord in front of me look softer and almost vulnerable.

“You’re staring, my love” Helion chuckles, his voice oozing smugness. “Is it so wrong for a female to enjoy the view her mate is providing?” I question, teasing.

“No I suppose not, you know I have to put this in the oven for awhile and we have some spare time,” he cheekily suggests.

“What shall we do?” I say feigning innocence. He circles around to the side of the counter where I’m sitting and gently holds my chin, “You’re so innocent right now but wait until I have you begging and writhing underneath me,”

I gulp, his words go straight to my core.

“What are you waiting for then?”

a/n AZRIEL U WISH THIS WAS U anyway don’t think they have ovens in acotar and i js watched the pjo finale and the way luke said annabeth broke me but like my husband looked rlly fine.

[myblissfulignorance]

Slowly but surely figuring out how to use tumblr 😂

Link to chapter 1:

Space Oddity

Chapter 2: Out of the Frying Pan

Dick was only a little surprised that the teleporter actually worked. The Joker was a madman and a bastard, but he wasn’t stupid.

He had managed to work one arm out of the ropes when the red clock timer had ten seconds left. Dick would need to be some kind of super man to get them out at that point, so he just reached out and dragged Jason close and shielded him with his body as best he could.

There was a shudder and a groan of metal and Dick felt cold trickle down his body, like jumping into an ice bath but a million times slower. He couldn’t breathe as it was happening, lungs held in a vice grip. The feeling left, Dick’s skin was tingling and raw, and the capsule shuddered one last time and silence settled. Dick looked around the room and his breath hitched when he saw what was outside. Or what wasn’t. And the fact that everything in the room was beginning to float. Dick decided to employ the Bruce-approved technique of compartmentalization.

“Little Wing? Hey, can you hear me?” Dick did his best to assess his injuries.

His breathing was uneven but steady, probably from the pain. Broken bones littered his body, there were at least two breaks on his right forearm, so many broken ribs, and his legs.. Jason wouldn’t be doing flips any time soon. Jason groaned and mumbled something incomprehensible. 

“Jay, I’m gonna need you to speak up ok? And brace, I’m setting your nose.” He put a hand on the back of his head. There was a small crunch as Dick put his nose back into place. Jason mumbled heatedly and Dick was sure he was cursing.

“Fuck, that hurt! Dickhead are you alright?” Dick peeled off his mask, the adhesive was separating in places. They were floating in the middle of the room, Dick’s left leg stretched out behind him tethering him to something.

“Don’t worry about me Jay, I’m fine-”

“The hell you are ‘Wing, report.”

Dick huffed but relented. “Minor bruising on my ribs and a few scrapes on my face, I also probably have a black eye or two. A little dizzy and lightheaded, but we were blown up so it's minor and expected.”

Jason flipped him off before flinching and holding his arm. He ignored Dick's look and stared out the single window.

“So. Space.”

Dick sighed. “Yep. Sure seems like it.”

The world outside was a sea of black, Dick could see the sea of stars better than he ever could before coming to Gotham. There was a stray asteroid, or meteor? Dick could never remember the difference, floating about the empty expanse. The warmth was rapidly dissipating through the metal walls.

“Bruce isn't coming for us, is he.” Jason said.

Dick held him closer, careful to not exacerbate his injuries. “Don’t be stupid, of course he’s coming.” but will he be here before..?

“Let’s try to be positive! Let me see if there's anything here to splint your arm.”

The three feet of chain links didn’t give him much room to roam, but Dick could almost reach half the space with little difficulty. The contents of the room left much to be desired. No food, no water, nothing that could feasibly be used as medical supplies. The multitude of boxes was full of photos, cds, newspapers, nothing of use for Jason at least.

“Dick I found a paperclip, use it to pick the cuff.” Jason pushed off the wall with his good arm and handed him the clip.

Dick took off a glove to feel for the keyhole, paused, then pulled his leg up to study the shackle. Motherfucker.

“He soldered the keyhole, it's going to have to be cut off.”

Jason cursed. “Let’s see if we can leverage the other side then.”

The other end of the chain was attached to a U-bolt screwed into the flooring. It was rusty, but Dick knew it would be a pain to break in zero gravity. That tends to mess with leverage quite a bit. Jason huffed and floated off to look for something as Dick tried kicking at the bolt to break it. Jay was breathing hard as he came back.

“Jay take it easy, you don’t want to-”

Dick cut off by Jason throwing something at his face. When he saw it was the crowbar he nearly dropped it.

“Jay what-” “Use it to break the chain dickhead, the bolt is welded to the floor. If you break the seal and we die in a vacuum I’ll kick your ass.” He was trembling, and Dick knew it wasn’t from the cold.

Dick shut up and broke the chain link.

~~~

It was nearly impossible to tell what time it was. They had been stripped of nearly all their tech and Dick wasn’t sure how accurate a fifteen year old alarm clock would be. Jason was in extreme pain, especially as the cold set in, but every time he caught Dick looking at the drugs for a little too long he spit vitriol looking every bit like an angry kitten.

~~~

Dick guessed that about a day had passed when Jason caught a fever. Bruce needs to get here soon or they may well just die of dehydration.

~~~

Scratch that, Dick thinks hysterically as the air begins to feel thinner, we’re going to die by asphyxiation instead.

“Hey Dick..” he held Jason closer and carded his fingers through his hair.

“What’s up Jaybaby.” he said.

His eyebrows furrowed. “What’s that noise?”

Dick barely had time to register the question before gravity suddenly took hold. He managed to hold in his yelp. Jason, being as heavily injured as he is and delirious from pain and concerningly high co2 levels, could not quiet his strangled scream. Luckily Jason had landed on top of Dick, he held the back of his head as he carefully rolled him over on his back. The capsule had landed on one of the walls, the door outside sitting far out of reach.

Jason held on to him with his good arm. “Is it B?”

Dick looked up at the red glow coming through the window and heard the muffled sound of unfamiliar voices. There was a humming noise and Dick flinched as the metal glowed red hot and started to melt.

“No Jay, I very much doubt that’s Bruce.” Dick searched frantically for a weapon as the hole opened wider. He grabbed the crowbar and tried to ignore the sick feeling in his gut as he crouched defensively in front of Jason.

He saw a black, armored hand grab the molten wall and a figure came through. They floated like it was still zero g. They were tall, probably around Dick’s height, but with a stockier build. Their armor looked to be some kind of alloy, it looked black in the red light with jagged ridges and glowing lights in the seams. A single stylized, glowing S was embedded in the center of their chest, their visor pulsed and glowed where Dick assumed their eyes were.

They said something in a strange choppy language, the armor distorting their voice, making it sound like they swallowed gravel. Dick felt his lip curl as they moved closer.

“Stay back!”

The figure set themselves on the ground, pulling their hands back and repeating whatever they said before. Dick didn’t move. There was a commotion outside and the humming started again. The figure was distracted as someone else poked their head in and yelled something at them.

Dick took that moment to strike. The crowbar met with the back of their heads as whatever device they used to melt the wall started again. Their helmet made a disturbing crunch as it met with the floor and their friend started yelling to whoever else must be outside. Dick sprinted back to where Jason was sitting.

“Sorry Little Wing, looks like we’re on the run. Try to hold on, ok?” Dick picked him up in a piggyback and as soon as it was open, threw himself through the new hole in the capsule. Jason grunted at the jostling but still held on with one arm around Dicks neck.

The room was a flurry of motion, bodies flying to and fro, some wearing armor of different colors. It was like a literal beehive of activity. There was a lot of panicked yelling as people began to come towards them. Dick looked around what must have been some sort of cargo bay trying to find somewhere to regroup. He spotted an opening to their ventilation that looked just big enough for him to slip inside.

“Jay, I’m gonna get us up to the vents. You’ll have to pull yourself up before I can follow you.” Dick felt Jason nod his head as he ran, dodging and weaving between their pursuers. 

As he got close, Dick used a nearby person as a springboard up to a ledge. He held onto the vent and punched in the cover and pulled himself up enough that Jason could crawl inside. He was nearly there when something grabbed his chain and yanked them out, the fall to the floor punching the breath out of him.

“Dick!” Jason yelled. It seems one of the guards was aiming to get Jason.

“Little Wing!!” Dick struggled as the guard that pulled them out tried to pin him down. They wrestled for a few moments before Dick was able to hook his leg around them, twisting and pinning them to the floor. He slammed his fist into their face until they stopped struggling under him. Dick then quickly backflipped out of range of another barreling guard.

Jason had managed to throw his elbow into the solar plexus of his captor, causing them to drop him. Dick quickly ran to catch him before he was intercepted. Something had slammed into him from behind and wrapped around his chest, then encasing his whole body and morphing into a coffin-esque shape. It seemed something similar had attached itself to Jason and he was being carted away by a guard and a separate group in a different uniform. Dick cried as he watched them take his little brother away.

“Please! Please don’t hurt him, that’s my little brother, take me instead!” Dick begged. He knew they didn’t understand, but he had to try. “He won’t survive a second time, please.”

He collapsed inside the coffin, wailing as they took him into some deeper part of the ship.

~~~

When Dick was coherent again, he found himself in some kind of observation room. It was plain, a single bed in one corner and a single nearly ceiling to floor length window to the other side. It was at this time that Dick began to accept they were taken by aliens.

For one their technology was wildly different than anything he'd ever seen. The window wasn't tempered glass but some kind of light or plasma turned solid. It seemed the aliens could control it remotely and it was extremely malleable while also practically soundproof.

What really cemented the fact these people were not from Earth was the people themselves. The window was not a one-way mirror so Dick had a full view of the foreign doctors or scientists trying to study him. At first glance, the aliens seemed as human as could be, two arms, two legs, and a normal sized head. But it was when Dick looked closer he could spot the differences.

Most of the people he saw were huge. Like make six-foot-four-Bruce-Wayne look small, kind of huge. Their eyes seemed to also have a kind of glow too, all of them in the range of blue to white. Though it was hard to tell true colors under the ‘golden hour’ lighting of the entire ship.

Dick shivered. They kept it cold as hell in here, too.

The room on the other side of the wall was busy, people coming in and out for seemingly random periods of time. Though there were two recurring faces that stuck out to him. The aliens looked very similar, like father and son, the older having a beard and some grey streaks through his hair. They also had similar style clothing with that same stylized S in the center of their chests. The older one also seemed to be the center of all the hustle and bustle, giving direction and delegation at most times. The father must be in some position of power.

The son's job, it seemed, was to study Dick.

The alien watched him constantly, muttering to himself and looking down at his tablet. Dick hadn't been moving much since he was put in here, the solitude of the room exacerbating his depressive mood. The silence rang in his ears and Dick wondered how long it would take him to go mad.

Everything changed with lights out. ‘Lights out’ meaning they turned blue and just about everyone left soon after. Dick decided to save his strength and get some sleep, the only people left were the father and son, and he doubted they would try anything tonight. Dick would try his hand at escaping tomorrow, for now, he fell into a restless sleep.

~~~

Link to chapter 3:

[l3viat8an]

Brainrot rn is!!- Clumsy, blushing, just absolutely lovesick just sooo down bad for u making out~ it’s midnight so ignore typos ‘kay? Thanks! 🫡

It’s a little obvious when he’s trying to work up the nerve to actually kiss you first. His hands fidget in his lap and he glances at you every few seconds, blushing a little before turning away again.

Until finally he’s kissing you, it’s only happened when you both just happened to turn and face each other-

But once he gets the hang of it, he’s pretty good~

I mean still a little awkward, at least at first, because he still doesn’t know what to do with his hands….and kinda ends up holding your forearms so you can’t pull away too soon as his lips clumsily lock with yours.

But then~

When your lips are on his and you’re not pulling away but instead leaning in for more, he relaxes instantly and just enjoys the feeling of your lips on his.

He doesn’t even notice at first that his arms moved, to pull you closer. Practically holding you against his chest as he begins to nibble on your lip.

He always loves having you straddle him as you make out, playing around with the pace of your kisses.

Lips moving slower, while he holds you so close that there’s no space left between you, until he leans back~ Taking in your flushed face and watching you suck in air.

Now that he’s got you like this his hands are far more confident and moving all over you~

[orange-demons-deactivated2024]

👋🏻 can I get some ed or bosch and their culture shock of the club life due to their s/o brought them to the club? All the scandalous dancing, bumping and grinding, twerking, the lights making everything feel sexy, and the provocative music.

they can be a poly or a individual hcs

tysm, anon!👋🏻

This is gonna be Bosch centered. I do have some Ed headcanons but they aren't going to be extensive, just small blurbs. and to be completely transparent with u all, I’ve never been to a club so take this with a grain of salt.

Bosch 

If you want more of a culture shock aspect, Bosch would be a better candidate.

Mostly because nightclubs are considered more modern than what’s available in Nayshall. 

And he already had too much on his plate to ever think about going to them.

It’s not like he was completely clueless, he’s seen the crowd of people lining up outside every time he walked home.

And he saw the excitement on their faces as the thumping music reverberated through the walls. 

So he’s somewhat familiar with what it could be, but it was never something that piqued his interest.

Of course, that is, until you found out and promptly dragged him to one.

The inside was just as loud as he expected and the artificial lights were practically seared at the back of his retinas. 

People were rubbing shoulder to shoulder on the dance floor but they seemed too in the moment to care.

"What do you think?" you asked.

"It's... loud." Bosch looked around, taking everything in, “I don’t see the point of this. We could be training instead.”

You rolled your eyes. “We train every day. Let’s just have fun for tonight. But we should get something to drink first." You said leading him through the crowd towards the bar. 

“Bosch, do you drink?” 

“Alcohol? No, not at all.”

“Oh, is it for personal reasons or health?”

“Religious.” He replied.

“That’s cool. Then maybe we can get something non-alcoholic to celebrate going to your first club.”

You ordered some mocktails and handed one to him. 

“To new experiences,” You toasted, clinking your glass against his and chugging the drink.

“…To new experiences.” He took a small sip, then a bigger one, finding the taste sweeter than he expected. 

The club was much more lively than what he was used to seeing and he couldn’t help but to advert his eyes from the moving bodies. He could feel everything tenfold with the provocative music playing in the background and the lack of personal space the club provided.

“Are you ready?" Your voice broke through his thoughts.

“Huh, for what?”

“To dance, Silly.”

Bosch sputtered in surprise. "Wait, we're gonna dance?"

"Of course! What did you think we were going to do?" you laughed.

Bosch looked around at the people dancing, then back at you. "I don't know... stand around and listen to music?"

You shook your head, "No way! You have to experience the full club scene to get the most out of your tonight. Come on!" He quickly downed his drink before you dragged him along.

As you two moved away from the bar, you pulled Bosch onto the dance floor. The crowd pulsed with the rhythm of the music and you started to sway to the beat. Bosch watched you, feeling out of his element, before slowly moving with you, trying to match your rhythm.

You leaned close to him, voice barely audible over the pounding music. "Just relax and have fun, okay? Tonight is about us."

He gradually started to loosen up as you nudged him to move to the beat. 

Your movements were graceful and fluid while Bosch, on the other hand, was stiff and shy. He can feel the heat coming from every angle, slowly closing in on his body and pressing against yours. 

 "You're doing great," You said, beaming at him. "See? It's not so bad."

Bosch chuckled, his demeanor softening. "Yeah, it's not terrible."

As the night wore on, the club started to quiet down and the energetic music transitioned into a slower, intimate one. The crowd thinned out, leaving only a handful of people swaying on the dance floor.

The music enveloped you both in a light tune as you wrapped your arms around Bosch's neck, pulling him closer. His hands settled on your hips, and you began to sway together, moving in sync. The slow dance felt natural, with your body against his, fitting together seamlessly.

"I’m surprised, you're a quick learner," you said, starting to feel tired after today's events.

He leaned in, brushing his lips against your ear, "It's cause I have a good teacher."

His words sent shivers down your spine as you buried your face against his shoulder in embarrassment.

"Thanks for coming with me," you said softly. "I know this isn't really your scene, but I still wanted to go with you."

"It’s nothing, I'm glad I came," he hummed. "It's nice to do something different for a change. And it's nice to see you so happy."

“See me happy? What about you? Are you happy?"

“I am. And I’m glad that I get to hang out with you before you disappear again.”

“I don’t think I was gone for that long.”  You pulled away from him to get a better look at his face.

“Oh really?” Bosch said, with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Before yesterday, when was the last time you dropped by the gym?”

“Like, one, two weeks ago?” 

“Three. It was three weeks ago.”

You laughed, feeling a bit guilty. "Okay, maybe I've been a bit distracted."

He raised a brow, lips curving into a small smile. “Just a bit?”

You sighed, resting your forehead against his chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize it had been that long. Ryu’s training had been more intensive than I expected."

His arms tightened around you, a hand rubbing soothing circles along your back. "I get it. You want to get stronger, and he's an amazing teacher. Just don't forget about the people waiting for you to come back home, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a warmth bubble up in your chest, "I won't. I promise."

"Good. Because I missed you." He said, resting his forehead against yours.

A smile spread across your face as you leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. The world around you seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you wrapped in each other's arms.

"I missed you too, Bosch."

He chuckled softly, his breath mingling with yours. "No more disappearing acts, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. "Deal."

In his opinion, the club wasn’t a terrible experience but he honestly didn’t go because he wanted to see the inside of it, he went because he wanted to stay with you just a little longer.

Ed 

Personally, I don’t think Ed would have much of a culture shock because he already knew what clubs are, long before you.

He has a general idea of what goes down, mostly because he’d met some sketchy people lurking there while roaming around with Balrog for odd jobs. 

He could recall them being super loud and cramped to the brim with sweaty people. 

You know that comment when he said he hated being in large crowds, the club is no exception. 

And if he was ever dragged to one, he stayed in the corner of the room with his back against the wall and crowd watch, hoping no one approached him. 

And listen, hanging out with his buds and having a couple of drinks is cool n’ all. But why does it have to be at a club? It gets hot. it’s expensive, and it’s a hub for creeps to sneak something into your drink.

So yeah, they’re usually a hard pass for him.

[blackboxtheater]

mumbo’s newest episode got me thinking (u should watch it got mumbo lore also the context):

since mumbo’s the only one aging, that means that the rest of them are immortal or something, and he doesn’t want to be left behind (since he wants to put his conscience in a chicken)

and that means the rest of them are… god like

pearl is a goddess

she was the one getting worshipped by the mooners

and now mumbo can’t let her or the rest of his friends go, but he’s still is getting older, meaning he would sacrifice his body for the sake of staying where the people he loves live, or used to live when a new season starts

what happens if pearl tries to convince him to stay in his human self? and she embraces all the wrinkles and sunspots? what if she’s there when he eventually dies? would she find a way to bring him back forever? would she accept it with grief?

or what if mumbo stays as a chicken? will they stay, keeping their friend? will they leave him behind or visit? he’s still gonna die there, maybe near big ron’s? how insane will pearl be, that her biggest worshipper, her love, one of her best friends, is stuck to a place that she has to leave someday?

and don’t get me started on everybody else- (gets dragged into the void)

(I haven't seen the episode yet but I wanted to have my first existential meltdown before I watched it, so it could be spaced out from my inevitable additional meltdowns after watching. Basically stay turned and I shall also report back once I have seen it and probably crash out for another 2k words)

"what happens if pearl tries to convince him to stay in his human self? and she embraces all the wrinkles and sunspots?"

My friend, I do believe you are trying to kill me.

Because personally, I come from a lineages of ancestors who have lived long, physically healthy lives while they completely lost their memory and minds long before they were done on the earth. I literally work on detecting and treating cognitive decline. When I think about aging its not just physical changes. So this has thrown me into the existential dread of what something like aging could look like for a redstoner, an inventor like Mumbo.

He's slower with a sword? Okay, well he was never great at PVP anyway so not much has changed. He can't build for as long or lift as heavy stacks anymore? Okay, he'll take it slower. Quality over quantity anyway. His friends still enjoy his company, they tell him his builds and creations are wonderful. It's fine. He'll be fine. The thing he wanted to preserve wasn't any of those traits, it was his mind.

But what happens when he can't remember how the redstone component work just one too many times? When his friends come to ask him to help him build a farm he's sure he's made in the past, but he just can't remember? When he tries to create something new that he's sure will work, but he just can't figure it out?

He knows that a younger version of him wouldn't have had any of these issues. This all would have been easy for a young, spry Mumbo. And now its too late. Before when he wanted to preserve his brain, it was working perfectly. Now? Now it's not. Now there are pieces missing, degraded and lost to time. Sure, if he uploaded his conscious before he would have been a chicken. But he would have been him. The one thing he could wholly maintain when he swapped over into a new body is now gone too.

Pearl said he still looked good when his hair started to grey and the wrinkles around his eyes deepened. She said she still loved him even as his joints started to ache and his strength faded. He wants to believe that she will still feel all those things when its his mind that isn't what it used to be instead of his body. But he has his doubts.

And Pearl, an immortal goddess, would know that everything has a time to begin and end. She would convince him to stay a human and love him until his final moments. She would grieve and also come to accept it. But also...what is a 1000 years of grief if your timescale is eternity? There is no pressure to move on quickly when you will be around forever. So yes she eventually comes to terms with it, but there are whole generations that only know of a weeping moon. (I swear there is a thing about phases of a moon where one one phase looks like the moon is bowl filling up and the other looks like a bowl emptying out. If that's a real thing then entire generations only know of a moon that eternally looks like it is spilling out across the eternally darkness, pearlescent tears shimmering across the sky.)

....And thats just me going off on ONE of the things you said here. Every single sentence of this ask is an entire fic prompt on its own. And I haven't even watched the video yet. Jesus.