#hhhh lets see how this goes

[sh1-n0bu]

I’d like to order some nsfw genshin impact SAGAU stuff:

More specifically, its when the Creator uses a vessel different from Wanderer, their main, and he gets jealous all the time.

So, when they descend on teyvat, one of the first things they do is fuck the jealousy out of him so badly he cant speak. (Yes its overstimulation because MAN…)

♡︎ 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙙 ♡︎

characters: sub!AFAB!wanderer (or scaramouche) x nb!dom!reader

warnings: overstimulation, dacryphillia, jealousy, oral fixation, squirting, fingering, slight cult-ish and religious undertones

notes: hhhh my first sagau smut

kabukimono adored the creator.

how could he not? he was just a mere creation and a vessel of the god of all gods.

the first to tell the poor, discarded puppet of you was niwa. when seeing how everyone in tatarasuna worshipped a being called divine creator, the poor puppet couldn’t help his own curiosity and ask. in response, niwa patiently explained to him how there was once an ancient being. a god of all gods. one who even reigned over the archons, celestia itself. one who created teyvat, blessed it with life and in their weakened state, went to an eternal rest.

kabukimono adored the creator with the hollow remains of where his heart is meant to be. an empty shell filling with fuzzy feelings, smile spreading on his face whenever he goes to pray at your shrine, offerings of small yet precious things left in your altar. he only hoped it would please your soul.

kunikuzushi has secret reverence and respect for the creator.

you took away his friend, his home, his family and yet he still hopes for your guidance. carrying hope in the shape of a small wooden carving that he made, which he clutches closely to his chest.

during restless nights and moments when he feels himself slipping, losing hope, losing sight of loving you — he clutches the wooden carving to his chest. tight, tight to the point it leaves a dent in his pale hand and whispers into it. how he wishes to be in your care. how he hopes that you didn’t abandon him. how he hopes that your loving arms would hold him one day. how you are the only source of life he has.

how all the blood he shed was meant for you. a sacrifice for you. to appease you. to bring you back to teyvat. to see you in flesh.

kunikuzushi has secret reverence and respect for the creator.

scaramouche despises the creator.

you left him. when his own mother betrayed him and left him alone, he was lucky to be found by nagamasa. he was lucky that niwa was kind enough to let him stay at tatarasuna. how you were so cruel that even after all the metal and iron, gold and silver he molded and modeled to make tiny offerings to your altar. how you were twisted to give him small slivers of hopes in the form of niwa and the sick child, yet to take them away.

he hates you. despises you. loathes you. every little altar he sees, he hopes to destroy it. every statue of you he glimpses at, he uses his delusion to shock the old and eroded stone until it breaks and crumbles. oh, how badly he wished to do the same to you.

the sixth of the eleven fatui harbingers won’t even hesitate for a split second to spit on your name even in the presence of the tsaritsa. childe always looks down on him whenever he does. the ginger’s hands twitching, delusion and vision mixing up together as he tries his best to hold himself back from jumping on the short arrogant puppet.

and yet despite it all… scaramouche still clutches the small wooden carving of you. holding it close to his chest as he secretly whispers in his mind how much he wishes to please you. the puppet only hopes all the bodies he piled up would satisfy you, even just a little bit.

wanderer loves you dearly.

he has been wrong this whole time. you were never twisted, never sick in the head nor heart, never wishing to manipulate him, never wishing harm or pain upon anything. you were gentle. loving. every life form you passed by would swoon and sway, hoping to touch you. even touching your clothes or robes would be enough.

when be first got his vision, he heard your voice in his head. it was the same loving warmth that enveloped the traveler. it was warm, gentle, loving but still not fully there. when he protected the traveler and the floating thing, he could hear you cheer for him. for him.

but when an array of shooting stars engulfed the fake skies, wanderer looks up as always. blue ones, purple ones and then he felt it. a certain pull in his chest. like how red strings of fate tugs on your pinky in all those fairytales.

and he follows.

running, running, running — until he eventually reaches an odd place. a clear sky, one that looked real and one that cradled him in a gentle warmth.

“yeeesss!! you’re finally home! welcome home, wanderer!” a voice rings in his head loud and clear. excitement, happiness, elation, joy, pride — all sorts of emotions bubble in him, ready to burst out. but instead it fell down in the form of a tear. a happy tear.

it was you. it was the creator. the all-knowing, all-loving one. and you wanted him! him of all people! and you were happy that you had him!

yet wanderer doesn’t get it.

if you loved him so much, wanted him, pre-farmed for him as you said and even got his signature weapon, why were you using someone else? why use that cocky cryo user from mondstadt? why use his brother who is equally cocky but knows how to keep it hidden? why use that annoying old archon who flaunts that he is your oldest and most devout follower? or even the yashirou commissioner!

was he not enough? was he not strong enough? did you needed to “farm” for his talent materials? if so, no need! he already went ahead and got them for you when you logged out! everything to make him the perfect dps as you called is all there and ready!

strange.

why was your other characters are all either dead or on 1hp when you log in? only wanderer is there — your main — in full hp. standing proud and cocky with the same grin.

——

it’s tough to be a god.

no seriously. all jokes and that damn catchy song aside, it was indeed tough to be a god. especially when all these powerful people who can literally control elements and even gods themselves were worshipping you. how can you be a god of all gods?

well, you found out the answer to that question on one of your earlier days when you got a little bit too curious. all in the form of an ichor bleeding out of your palm that you sliced. and perhaps a bit pressured too. after all, being put on a pedestal for everyone to see and worship and grovel to is hard to deal with. especially when you were suddenly thrown into a world that you thought was only fictional!

but there was also something else that was incredibly, unbelievably, astoundingly hard to deal with was your main. the puppet who was abandoned. the short, sarcastic asshole. but never towards you! he would hate to make you even slightest bit sad or angry.

and yet he does it anyways.

going out of his way to stalk down some poor merchant you like buying things from to buy most of their stock so you won’t visit the merchant’s shop again. picking fights with your acolytes when you show the slightest hint of favoritism. hell, he almost killed childe. but of course, the battle lusted ginger loved the thrill and had asked for more future fights.

which all led to here. him getting his well deserved punishment.

poor wanderer thinking he was all too slick. how he was doing everything behind your back so you wouldn’t know anything. how you would stay innocent to his actions while he goes and picks another fight. but you noticed. every single jealousy inflicted actions wanderer had pulled and orchestrated, you knew.

anyone could walk in right now and see what was happening. anyone of your pathetic other acolytes could walk in and see how good you were fucking him. fingers knuckles deep into his cunt, fucking him so good, so deep.

and dear stars and you, wanderer wanted that. he wanted those pathetic worshippers to see how you favored him above them.

wanderer had lost his sense of self and mind long time ago. the moment you wrapped your hand around his throat to manhandle his tiny body to sit on your lap, his mind was gone. a blank sheet of paper.

the puppet doesn’t remember how many orgasms you’ve wrung out of him but he loved it. he wanted it. he wanted more. he wanted your fingers to fuck him open.

in his hazy mind, lust ridden babbles and overstimulated body, he can feel it. how your other hand is keeping his labia spread open. how you apply pressure around his cunt. how your fingers are squelching into him, creating a filthy wet shlick! shlick! noises.

how your hand keeping his labia open goes to tug on his clit. pinching the bud of muscle as he writhes and screams in your lap. squirting over your fingers again like a common brothel whore. and he loved it. by the stars above, he loved it.

because deep in his most depraved part of mind, wanderer knew that he was a whore. your whore. your common brothel cheap whore. your whore who would spread open his legs for you if you asked for it. who would eagerly finger himself so he can provide you with some sort of entertainment. who would take your hand and guide it inside his shorts, not even bothering to wear undergarments, so he can give you easier access.

he doesn’t remember. doesn’t want to remember how many times he came. when you place him on your own throne, legs propped on both sides on the armrest, his wet, slick covered pussy and hardened sensitive clit for the world to see, all he can think about is how good it feels.

when you get down on your knees in front of him, it feels like a sacrilege. shouldn’t it be him who’s on his knees in front of you, trying and hoping to please you?

yet all of his thoughts fly out the window when your fingers stretch his sensitive pussy open again. fingers hooked on the inside slightly, just enough to open up his inner labia and for you to admire his gaping hole. waiting eagerly for you to claim it once again.

“your gra—aanhg!! grace! grace! your grace!! f-feelsh good. feelsh good feelsh goodfeelsgoodgoodgood ghk—! aammh!♥︎“ the jealous puppet whines and babbles on, your title falling over his lips over and over like a mantra as he drools. mind long gone, sanity on the thin line between delirium and lucidity. struggling to comprehend just what is happening.

he feels your mouth on him. tongue lapping at his juice greedily like an insatiable animal while he struggles to keep his legs open. hand twitching, hesitating for a moment before he grips onto your hair tightly — his only anchor. he can feel everything too greatly.

body sensitive, pushed over the boundaries of his virgin state. he could feel how you suck on his sensitive clit, forcing him to squirt into your mouth.

if this was how you would treat him to stop his jealousy induced rampages, maybe wanderer should do it more often.

[aller-geez]

Fever Pitch (Sneeze The Day part 2)

Wow, when I started writing this, I didn’t anticipate to write 8.4k words… oops 😅 this fic is a follow up to Sneeze The Day, which you can read here if you missed it. Vaelyn gets a killer head cold while on tour with his death metal band, Toad Biscuit, featuring Rexar and Kriia since it takes place before Vee sets fire to a venue and goes into hiding. I also had to give Vee tattoos since how do you have a metalhead character without tattoos? lol ALSO THERES EXPLICIT SMUT AT THE END ✨ pls enjoy~

The soft rumble of the bus engine was the first thing Vaelyn noticed as he slowly surfaced from the fog of sleep. The couch beneath him felt oddly comfortable, though the lump of an errant cushion pressed awkwardly into his lower back. Perhaps he was simply too drained to care. A groan escaped his lips as he shifted, his entire body heavy with exhaustion, the kind that seeped into his bones and refused to let go.

His sinuses were a disaster zone. Every breath he managed was an ordeal, dragging air through congestion so thick it felt like trying to breathe through soaked fabric. His throat, raw from hours of coughing, burned with every swallow, a sharp, irritating sting that no amount of effort could soothe. His head throbbed in time with his heartbeat, a relentless drumbeat against his temples that made even opening his eyes seem like an insurmountable challenge.

When he finally cracked one bleary blue eye open, the dim, muted daylight filtering through the bus curtains hit him like a spotlight. He winced, squeezing his eyes shut again as if the mere act of seeing was too much. A mess of tissues littered the floor beside the couch, the crumpled paper remnants scattered like fallen leaves in a storm. His tissue box had fallen as well, lying on its side like a casualty of the night before.

"Good morning, Sunshine." Rexar’s deep, teasing voice cut through the thick haze of Vaelyn’s misery.

Vaelyn groaned again, his voice a low, guttural rasp as he slowly turned his head to squint up at his friend. Rexar was perched on the edge of the couch, one elbow resting casually on his knee, a steaming mug in his other hand. His sharp grey-and-red eyes studied Vaelyn critically, his expression hovering somewhere between amusement and concern.

“You look like someone ran you over with the bus, backed up, and did it again,” Rex said with a smirk, his teeth glinting faintly in the daylight.

“Feel like it too,” Vaelyn rasped, his voice so gravelly it sounded like it had been dragged through sandpaper. He winced at the effort, swallowing thickly as his throat protested the strain.

Rex held out the mug in his hands, tilting it slightly toward Vaelyn. “It’s tea,” he explained. “Kriia made it before she left to pick up some stuff for you. Drink it. Might make you less insufferable.”

Vaelyn huffed weakly, a sound that might have been a laugh if he had the energy for it. With trembling hands, he reached for the mug, his fingers brushing against Rexar’s briefly as he took it. He sniffled wetly, his red and swollen nose twitching faintly, but the motion only seemed to irritate his sinuses further. His breath hitched once—twice—before he clamped a tissue to his face just in time.

"Hhh... HHhh! hh—Hh'IESHHhh! HH’EISHHhh! ISCHHHhh! Hh-ISHHhh! —ish! …ish! ...sh! hh-!………………..—hhIISSHHhhuhh!"

The sneezes erupted from him in rapid succession, bending him forward until his head nearly rested on his knees. The force left him gasping, the sound of his ragged breath filling the quiet space as he slumped back against the couch, tissues pressed firmly to his nose.

“Bless you,” Rexar said dryly, though the faint edge of concern in his tone didn’t go unnoticed.

“Thadks,” Vaelyn muttered, his voice barely audible as he gave his nose a weak blow. He eyed the mug in his lap as if it held the cure to all his ailments, then raised it to his lips. The first cautious sip was scalding, but the warmth spread through him like a balm, soothing the raw ache in his throat.

A quiet, involuntary hum of approval escaped him, and he sagged deeper into the couch. “Tell Kriia… she’s a saint,” he mumbled.

Rexar snorted, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. “Sure, I’ll let her know. Just don’t keel over before she gets back, yeah? I’d rather not have to explain that to the fans— and I wouldn’t even know how to make a new best friend this late in the game...”

Vaelyn offered a half-hearted glare, but the corner of his mouth twitched, betraying a flicker of gratitude beneath his misery.

The lion slouched further into the couch, dragging a tissue to his nose with a groggy motion as his sinuses waged another war against him. His flushed cheeks only made the irritated red of his nose more pronounced, and the glare he shot Rexar was half-hearted at best.

Rexar, perched casually on the armrest, smirked down at him with a glint of mischief in his sharp grey-and-red eyes. "You know, for someone so dramatic, you’re surprisingly consistent. I think you’ve sneezed more in the last hour than most people do in a week.”

Vaelyn shot him a watery glare, his hoarse voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thagks for the statisdics, Dr. Rexar. Always woddered who kept track of by hist…hh…” He trailed off, his breath hitching violently. He clamped the tissue tightly over his nose, the corner of his mouth curling downward as his blue eyes brimmed with tears.

“...hh’ESHHHhh! Hhh’ISSHHhh! Hh-ISHHhh! ...ish! ...SHh!—sh! ………——hh’EISSHHHhew!” Each sneeze tore through him, leaving him gasping and dazed as he slumped back into the couch.

Rexar chuckled, leaning back with a lazy grin. “Man, you sound like someone’s trying to exorcise a demon out of you.”

“At least I dod’t becobe a fugkigg flabethrower whed I sdeeze,” Vaelyn shot back, his words muffled and thick with congestion. His free hand gestured weakly toward Rexar, punctuating his point. “You burdt by favorite jacket, rebebber that shit?”

Rexar barked a laugh, his teeth flashing in the dim bus lighting. “Oh, come on, that was, what? Two years ago? You’re still holding onto that?”

“Id was buhh— blasted leather,” Vaelyn croaked, pinching the bridge of his nose with a groan. His breath caught mid-sentence, his long fingers trembling as he fought to stave off the inevitable. His expression twisted, his watery blue eyes squeezing shut until the sneezes finally erupted.

“hh—ISHHHhew! ISCHHHhh! Hh-ISHHhh! —ish! …ish! ...sh! ……..…hh’ISSHHHuhhh!” The final sneeze was so forceful it left him clutching at his tissues like they were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

Rexar shook his head, his grin widening. “You done, or you got more for the highlight reel?”

Vaelyn groaned, wiping his nose miserably. “You’re the wor…hh…worst.”

“Yeah, but I’m your worst,” Rexar quipped, patting Vaelyn’s shoulder lightly. “And don’t worry—I won’t set this jacket on fire. Yet.”

As the day dragged on, despite the show getting closer and closer, Vaelyn’s symptoms were only getting worse. His congestion had reached critical levels, rendering his nose completely useless. Each attempted breath was a noisy, wet struggle, forcing him to breathe through his mouth, which dried out his already sore throat. His fever clung to him like a heavy blanket, leaving his skin clammy and his cheeks flushed a blotchy red.

Every few minutes, his nose would rebel, sending him into relentless fits of sneezes that left his body trembling and his head spinning.

“...Hh’iISSHHhh!! ISCHHHhh! Hh-ISHHhh! —ish!-shh! —shh! Hhh... hihhh—huh’IISHHHHHhew!”

“Bless you,” Rexar called out from across the bus, not even looking up from his guitar. “You sound like a dying foghorn, by the way.”

Vaelyn groaned, his head dropping back against the couch. “Thadks for the idsight,” he muttered, his voice thick with congestion.

Rexar strummed a few idle chords, smirking. “Hey, I’m just saying, if this whole music thing doesn’t pan out, you could have a promising career as a lighthouse.”

Vaelyn gave him a withering glare, though it lost some of its edge thanks to the tissue pressed firmly against his nose.

Despite his miserable state, Vaelyn couldn’t let himself wallow all day. The tour wasn’t over yet, and the thought of missing another show—especially after last night’s fiasco—made his chest tighten with guilt. He swung his legs off the couch and sat up, his head pounding in protest.

As Rexar rummaged through the small kitchenette, the sound of clinking dishes mixing with the hum of the bus engine, Vaelyn forced himself upright. His legs felt like they were made of lead, and a wave of dizziness made him grip the armrest for support.

“Don’t even think about it,” Rexar said, not bothering to turn around as he poured milk into a bowl of cereal. “You’re staying here today. Doctor’s orders.”

Vaelyn scowled, his already flushed face deepening in color. “You’re not a doctor.”

“No, but I’m your best friend,” Rexar retorted, setting the bowl down with a clatter, “which means I outrank your stubborn ass. Besides, do you really think you’re in any shape to get on stage tonight?”

Vaelyn opened his mouth to argue, but the hitching in his breath betrayed him. His nostrils flared, his breath stuttering as his head tilted back involuntarily.

“Ugh... I’b—hh—gonnuhhh... sdeeze—hh!” he stammered, his voice hitching higher with each breath. “HH’EISHHhh! ISCHHHhh! Hh-ISHHhh! ...ish! ...sh!—sh!” The sneezes came rapid-fire, bending him forward and leaving him clutching the edge of the couch to keep from toppling over. His tea sloshed dangerously in the mug he still held, but he managed to set it down just before it spilled entirely. Vaelyn barely had time to suck in a shallow gasp before the fit resumed.

“...hehhHH!—EEIISSHHuhh!”

Rexar arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Point proven,” he said flatly, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter.

Vaelyn sniffled miserably, scrubbing at his nose with his hoodie sleeve. “I’ll be fide by todight,” he insisted, though his voice was little more than a congested rasp.

“Sure, and I’m the queen of Hiraeth,” Rexar shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Before Vaelyn could retort, Kriia stepped onto the bus, her arms full of bags from her trip to the store. She paused in the doorway, surveying the scene with a raised brow. “Alright” she started, setting the bags on the counter. “we’ve got a situation tonight.”

Vee groaned softly, scrubbing at his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie. “Please tell be it’s dot bad,” he rasped, his congestion thickening his voice even more.

Kriia smirked faintly, crossing her arms. “Depends on your definition of bad… We’ve got a meet and greet before the show tonight.”

Rexar leaned back in his seat, his sharp grey-red eyes narrowing. “Seriously? That’s tonight?”

Kriia nodded. “Yup. And before you even start, Rex, remember: people paid a lot of money for this. Skipping it isn’t an option unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Vee perked up slightly, despite the exhaustion weighing him down. “I could do it,” he said quickly, his voice cracking. “The fads deserve it. I could haddle the beet and greet… as a test, baybe?” He sniffled, wiping at his nose as his determination burned through his obvious misery. “See how I hold up before the show?”

Rexar raised an eyebrow, exchanging a skeptical look with Kriia. “You?” he asked, gesturing vaguely toward Vee’s disheveled appearance. “You want to do the meet and greet?”

“I’ll be fide!” Vee protested, sitting up straighter as if that might make him look healthier. But the motion was ill-timed. His breath hitched sharply, his nostrils flaring as he quickly ducked his head into the neckline of his hoodie.

"Hhh… hh-Hhh! HH’EISHHhh! ISCHhh! ISHHh! hh—ISHHh! ISCHHHhh! Hh-ISHHhh! ...ish! ...sh! ……………. Hhh—EEISSHHhuhh!!”

The rapid-fire sneezes shook him, his chest heaving with each forceful expulsion as he tried to stifle the fit against his chest. By the time he surfaced, his face was red, his hoodie dampened from the force of his sneezes.

Rexar leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Yeah, you’re real convincing right now, Vee,” he said with a smirk. “You’re gonna sneeze on the fans, aren’t you? That’s one way to make them remember tonight.”

Kriia shot Rex a warning look, though her lips twitched with amusement. “Alright, enough,” she said, holding up a hand. “How about this: we let Vee attend the meet and greet. If he can last the whole two hours without having to come back to the bus, then he can play the show.”

Vee’s fevered eyes brightened with determination, and he nodded quickly. “Deal,” he said, his voice rough but resolute. He reached out to Rexar for their signature secret handshake, a series of intricate hand slaps and finger snaps they’d perfected over years of friendship.

Rexar hesitated for a moment, then sighed, giving in and completing the handshake. “Fine,” he said, pointing a finger at Vee. “But if you so much as sneeze on a fan, I’m pulling you offstage myself.”

Vee grinned, though the effect was undercut when he had to abruptly pull away, his face twisting with another sneeze. "Hhh—hh’IISSHHhh!” He sniffled, muttering a congested, “Bless be,” under his breath.

Kriia shook her head, chuckling softly as she leaned in for her turn at the handshake. “Just don’t push yourself too hard, okay?” she said, her voice softer now.

“Dot a probleb,” Vee replied confidently, though he had to quickly pinch his nose as another sneeze threatened to escape. Kriia exchanged a knowing glance with Rexar as the guitarist readjusted his hoodie, his expression determined despite the obvious battle raging within his sinuses.

“Alright,” Rexar said, standing up and grabbing his guitar case. “Let’s get you cleaned up. We’ve got a meet and greet to survive, and I’m not doing all the talking tonight.”

Vaelyn’s day was a fevered blur of cold medicine and unrelenting misery. Somewhere between his second and third dose of the morning—far exceeding the recommended daily limit—his head started to feel light, almost floaty. The congestion in his sinuses remained stubbornly in place, however, and his body continued to rebel against his every move.

Sitting on the edge of his bunk, Vee fumbled with the red tape he wore across his nose, the adhesive sticking awkwardly to his clammy fingers. His breath hitched for the thousandth time that day as his nose twitched relentlessly.

“Hhh—hh’ISSHHHHuhh! HHh’IIESHHhh! Ishh! —shh!………………… Hhh—EEISSHHhuhh!!” The sneezes rocked him forward, his long hair spilling into his face. He groaned, swiping at his nose with a crumpled tissue. The sound of it was wet and useless, doing little to combat the itch that burned deep in his sinuses.

By the time he managed to get dressed—his hoodie pulled haphazardly over his head, his ripped jeans barely zipped—he was visibly worse for wear. His nose was a bright, irritated red, the same shade as the tape now crookedly plastered across its bridge. His face was puffy, his eyes rimmed with pink, and his expression made it look as though he was stuck on the verge of sneezing at all times— which, chances were, he was.

The tour bus rumbled to a stop, and the cheers from the waiting crowd hit Vaelyn like a tidal wave, vibrating through the metal frame of the vehicle. He leaned against the window, his fevered breath fogging up the glass as he stared out at the sea of fans. Their excitement was palpable, their shouts of “We love you, Vee!” and “Toad Biscuit forever!” ringing in his ears. Despite the pressure weighing him down, a faint smile tugged at his cracked lips, softening the perpetual exhaustion etched into his pale face.

Rexar, naturally, was already in full showman mode. The second his boots hit the pavement, he raised his hand, igniting a dazzling burst of flames that roared to life in his palm. The crowd’s cheers redoubled, their energy feeding off his theatrics.

“That’s right! Toad Biscuit’s here, baby!” Rexar bellowed, his voice carrying over the noise like a war cry. He flexed his free arm for added dramatic effect, his sharp grey-and-red eyes gleaming with mischief. He was practically glowing with his usual confidence, the firelight catching on his white hair and making him look every bit the rockstar he was.

Vaelyn shuffled behind him, the stark contrast between their demeanors almost comical. His long hair clung to his flushed, sweat-slicked skin, and his movements were lethargic, each step dragging as though his limbs were weighted down. His hoodie looked oversized and rumpled, almost swallowing his wiry frame, but the fans screamed his name all the same, their devotion undeterred by his disheveled appearance.

He raised a hand in a half-hearted wave, his tired blue eyes scanning the crowd. For a brief moment, he felt a flicker of warmth despite the misery brewing in his chest. But then the persistent itch in his nose surged forward, sharp and relentless, demanding his full attention. His breath hitched violently, his shoulders tensing as he struggled to keep himself together.

“Godda—hh! hh’ESHHHhh! Hhh’EISSHHHH! hh—ISCHh! ish! shh! —sh! ———————Hhh’ISSHHHhhuhh! ” The sneezes tore through him with brutal force, bending him at the waist as he clutched his guitar case for balance. The first two were loud and forceful, but by the third, his body couldn’t keep up, leaving him gasping for air in between.

The fans murmured with concern, their cheers briefly faltering as they noticed his struggle. Still, Vaelyn waved them off weakly, attempting to straighten as he sniffled harshly, his nose red and twitching uncontrollably.

Distracted by the roaring crowd, Rexar spun around, ready to hype them up further—only to walk straight into Vaelyn’s hunched frame. The collision jolted both of them, Rexar stumbling back slightly while Vaelyn barely managed to catch himself on the doorway.

“Dude!” Rexar exclaimed, his voice tinged with irritation before softening into concern. “You okay?”

Vaelyn couldn’t immediately answer, his breath hitching again as another rapid-fire fit overtook him. “Hhh... hh—godda... sdeeze! hh’ESHHhh! hh’EISSHhh! Ish! —ish! —shh!…………….. Hhh’ISSHHHhhuhh!!” He finally straightened with a groan, his flushed face and glassy eyes making him look utterly wrecked.

“Bless you,” Kriia said, materializing at Vaelyn’s side like a shadow. Her sharp purple eyes were full of worry as she placed a steady hand on his shoulder. “Think you can make it through the meet and greet?”

Vaelyn sniffled again, wet and miserable, as he blinked at her through his watery, irritated eyes. Despite every nerve in his body screaming for rest, his resolve remained unshaken. “Y-Yeah,” he rasped, his voice barely audible over the din of the crowd. “I’b dot... hh! …hh’ISSHHH!—godda disappoint the fads.”

Rexar rolled his eyes, though a small smirk tugged at his lips. “Alright,” he said with mock seriousness. “But if you sneeze on someone, it’s your apology they’re getting, not mine.”

Vaelyn managed a weak laugh, wiping his nose on his sleeve as Kriia shot Rexar a withering look. The three of them pushed through the venue doors, the roaring crowd’s energy still ringing in their ears.

The cheers of the crowd outside still roared faintly as the venue door closed behind them, muting the sound to a dull hum. Vaelyn and Rexar were ushered quickly backstage, Kriia trailing behind with a purposeful stride. Rex threw an arm casually around Vee’s shoulders, his natural charisma masking the tension in his sharp grey-red eyes as he glanced at his bandmate.

“Looking good, champ,” Rex said lightly, though there was a hint of forced cheer in his voice.

Vee didn’t reply, too focused on staying upright as the group wove through the narrow backstage corridors. His breaths were shallow, his congested nose barely allowing any air through, and his skin was clammy under the venue's harsh fluorescent lighting.

They were met by a member of the hair and makeup team, a petite woman with sharp features and an arsenal of brushes and palettes in her hands. “Vaelyn,” she said briskly, motioning for him to sit on a nearby stool, “let’s touch you up before you head out there. We don’t want anyone worrying, right?”

Vee blinked at her, his glassy blue eyes narrowing slightly, but he reluctantly sat down. “Right,” he muttered, his voice hoarse and uneven.

The makeup artist moved quickly, dabbing at his fever-flushed cheeks with a thin layer of foundation. The powder tickled his already inflamed nose, and his nostrils flared wildly as the itch took hold.

“Hhh... fugk, hh—godda... sdeeze! hh’ESHHhh! hh’EISSHhh! Ish! —ish! —shh! hh—huhhh—HHHIESHHHHhhuhh!”

The force of the sneezes bent him forward, nearly knocking the compact out of the makeup artist’s hands. She froze mid-movement, her expression hovering between surprise and exasperation.

“Sorry,” Vee rasped, though his tone was clipped, his frustration barely contained.

She hesitated, then resumed her work, this time with a larger, softer brush. Unfortunately, the thick bristles only made things worse.

“Hhh—hhhehh! Hh—I cad’t—hH’EISSHHhhuh! ISCHh! —Ish! —ish! — shh! —sh! ……. hh’IESHHHhh!”

Vee snapped upright, his watery eyes blazing with irritation as he swiped the makeup off his face with his sleeve. “That’s edough!” he barked, his voice cracking as he stood abruptly, wobbling slightly on his feet.

The makeup artist opened her mouth to protest, but Vaelyn was already moving, storming back toward Rex and Kriia with a huff.

Kriia tilted her head, her sharp purple eyes narrowing as she took in his disheveled appearance. Rex, leaning casually against a rack of stage props, arched an eyebrow and straightened up. “You good?” he asked, his voice lacking its usual teasing edge.

The genuine concern in Rexar’s tone made Vaelyn falter for a moment. He hesitated, his shoulders sagging slightly as he glanced down at his scuffed boots. His throat burned, his nose throbbed, and his legs felt like they could give out at any second, but he couldn’t let himself spiral.

“Fide,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse. He sniffled harshly and tried to stand a little straighter, though the effort made him sway slightly.

Rex didn’t press further, but the sharp look he exchanged with Kriia said enough.

Desperate to redirect their attention, Vaelyn shuffled closer to the edge of the curtain and peeked out toward the crowd. The venue was already filling up, with fans pouring through the doors and forming a snaking line for the meet and greet. The low hum of anticipation buzzed in the air, sending a jolt of adrenaline through Vaelyn’s tired body.

“Packed house,” he muttered, his raspy voice laced with faint pride. He turned to glance at Rexar, the corners of his mouth twitching into a weak smile. “Guess we better give ’em a show, huh?”

Rex shook his head, his lips curving into a smirk. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, but there was a note of admiration in his voice.

Kriia stepped closer, placing a hand lightly on Vaelyn’s arm. “If you start feeling worse out there, just say something, okay?”

Vaelyn nodded, though he avoided her gaze. Deep down, he knew he was barely holding it together, but the sight of their fans—his fans—gave him enough resolve to push forward. He took a shaky breath and squared his shoulders, ready to face whatever came next.

The backstage handler motioned for Rexar and Vaelyn to proceed toward the meet and greet area, and the two musicians fell into step, Rexar striding confidently while Vaelyn followed a few paces behind, his movements slower and more deliberate. The muffled cheers from the crowd outside the curtain grew louder as they approached, the air electric with anticipation.

As soon as the fans caught sight of them, the line erupted into frenzied screams. Vaelyn’s tired blue eyes scanned the sea of excited faces, and for a fleeting moment, the weight of his symptoms lifted. He couldn’t help but smile faintly, though the effort felt heavier than it should.

Rexar, ever the showman, smirked and conjured a small flame in his palm, lifting it high as he called out, “What’s up, guys? Toad Biscuit’s in the house!”

The crowd roared in response, their energy feeding Rexar’s charisma. He glanced over at Vaelyn, who was clearly struggling to muster the same enthusiasm. Vee’s movements were mechanical, his pale face flushed with fever and his nose an angry red, twitching constantly.

Still, Vee forced a smile, pushing through the haze of congestion and exhaustion. “What’s going on, guys?!” he called out, his voice cracking slightly but still managing to sound cheerful.

The crowd erupted again, and over the chaos, a girl’s voice rang out, clear and high-pitched. “I love you, Vaelyn!”

Caught off guard, Vee blinked, but a slow smirk spread across his face, his usual swagger flickering to life for just a moment. “I love you too!” he replied, his voice rasping but playful. “Why don’t you tell me all about our love when you come up here?” He flashed a sultry smile that sent the crowd into another frenzy.

Rexar shook his head with a laugh, muttering, “like I said. Unbelievable,” as they reached the head of the line.

The roar of the crowd outside the venue was deafening, and the energy was palpable as Toad Biscuit made their way to the gated off section of the dim room. Security guided them to a small area just behind the meet-and-greet setup where the fans would soon be ushered in. Rexar led the way with his usual swagger, his sharp grey-red eyes scanning the growing line of eager fans just beyond the curtain. The pyromancer couldn’t resist tossing a small burst of flame into the air, eliciting another wave of cheers and screams from the crowd.

“Show-off,” Vaelyn muttered, leaning heavily against the wall as he trailed behind, one hand gripping the strap of his guitar case for balance. His tall frame seemed to sag under the weight of his fever, his broad shoulders hunched as if he were trying to conserve every ounce of energy.

Kriia, walking just behind him, gave his arm a reassuring squeeze before nudging him toward their setup. “Just breathe, Vee,” she said softly. “You’ve got this.”

Vaelyn nodded faintly, pulling his hoodie tighter around his face to shield his flushed cheeks. He could feel the tickle building in his nose again, an unrelenting itch that refused to let him have a moment’s peace.

Rexar turned to glance over his shoulder, catching the look of pure misery etched on Vaelyn’s face. “Man, you’re really putting the ‘death’ in deathcore today,” he teased, though there was a note of concern hidden in his tone.

“Thags for the encourahh—hahh…hh’EISSHHhh!” Vaelyn’s breath hitched violently as the sneezes tore through him, bending him double. “H-Hehh! hh’ISHHhh! ISHh! —ish! —Shh! —shh! …..…hh—hhEISHHHhhuhh!” He barely managed to straighten up, his watery blue eyes darting toward Rexar. “...edcouragembt,” he finished hoarsely, dabbing at his raw, red nose with a crumpled tissue.

Rexar shook his head, his smirk widening. “You’re a fucking mess, Vaelyn,” he muttered.

As they reached the staging area, security gestured for them to wait while the final checks were made before letting the fans in. Rexar stood casually, hands on his hips, his gaze flicking toward Vaelyn as he leaned against the wall, clearly struggling just to stay upright.

“You good?” Rexar asked, his voice softer now, though his smirk remained.

Vaelyn sniffled, the sound thick and miserable, before rasping, “Yeah. Just gotta… catch by breath.” His words were clipped as if it physically hurt to force them out.

The muffled roar of the crowd grew louder as the curtain rustled slightly, and Vaelyn turned his attention to the fans pouring into the venue. For just a moment, their enthusiasm seemed to cut through the haze of his fever.

Rexar patted Vaelyn on the back, his hand lingering briefly in a gesture of unspoken support, before turning his attention to the fans beginning to line up at the front of the meet-and-greet area.

Vaelyn barely noticed, his focus narrowing to the task ahead as he fought to keep his head clear. But with every second that ticked by, the weight of his exhaustion pressed heavier on his frame, his pulse thrumming loudly in his ears. The first fan stepped forward, her excitement shining brightly enough to momentarily cut through the fog of his misery.

“Hi!” she squeaked, clutching a notebook with trembling hands.

Vaelyn glanced up from beneath the hood of his sweatshirt, his glassy blue eyes rimmed with red and underscored by dark shadows. He forced a small, tired smile, the warmth in his features muted but genuine though it barely reached his fevered expression. “Hi,” he croaked, his voice rough and barely audible over the din of the crowd.

Reaching for the notebook, his fingers shook as he signed his name in messy, looping script. The simple act of holding the pen made his hand feel leaden, his muscles aching from the effort. The fan shifted nervously, moving to stand beside him for a photo, but before the handler could snap the shot, Vaelyn’s body seized.

“Hhh—hh’IESHHhh! hh’EISSHH! hh—ISHHHh! hh—ISHHHHhh! —shh! hh—hh… HHHIESHHHHuhhh!”

The sneezes tore through him with unrelenting force, folding him at the waist as he turned sharply into the crook of his arm. His guitar strap slipped off his shoulder, and his knees buckled slightly from the effort. The fan startled, her notebook slipping from her grip onto the floor as Vaelyn scrambled for tissues.

The handler paused patiently, camera poised, while Vaelyn pulled a crumpled tissue from his pocket. He dabbed at his red, swollen nose, sniffling miserably as he looked up at the fan. “Sorry about that,” he muttered, his voice thick and congested.

“It’s okay!” the fan chirped, her brow furrowing with concern. “Are you feeling alright?”

Vaelyn forced a weak laugh, the sound dissolving into a painful cough that wracked his chest. He cleared his throat, though it did little to help his hoarse tone. “Just a cold,” he rasped, though the deep flush of his cheeks and the wet, sniffling sound of his breathing suggested otherwise.

The handler snapped the photo, but before Vaelyn could relax, his nose twitched violently. The persistent itch that had been tormenting him all day surged to the forefront, and his breath hitched uncontrollably.

“Hhh—hh! Hhh—hh’IESHHhh! hh’EISSHH! ISHHHh! hh—ISHHHhh! —shh! —sh! …hahhh… HHHIIESHHHHuhhh!”

The photo had to be retaken twice more, each attempt interrupted by another desperate fit of sneezes. By the time they moved on to the next fan, Vaelyn’s shoulders sagged under the weight of his exhaustion.

The line stretched on, and with each passing interaction, Vaelyn felt his energy drain further. His nose was an unrelenting mess, the redness spreading across his cheeks like a rash, his nostrils flaring with every strained sniffle.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Vee?” someone asked, their voice gentle with concern.

Vaelyn nodded weakly, though the constant pre-sneeze squint on his face made it clear he was barely holding himself together.

One fan, a soft-spoken girl with kind eyes, reached out to touch his forehead, her palm cool against his fevered skin. Vaelyn froze, his breath hitching as he leaned subtly into the comforting gesture.

“Poor thing,” she murmured, pulling back with a sympathetic frown. “You should be in bed.”

Vaelyn chuckled weakly, his congested laugh dissolving into a coughing fit. “Cad’t disappoint the fads,” he said hoarsely, though the toll on his body was undeniable.

Finally, the girl who had shouted her love for him earlier stepped forward, her eyes shining with adoration. “You know, your sneezes are kinda cute,” she teased, offering him a fresh tissue from her purse.

Vaelyn’s tired blue eyes crinkled with amusement as he accepted the tissue. “Thadks,” he said, his voice a broken whisper. He blew his nose with a loud, gurgling sound, sighing heavily as he crumpled the tissue in his fist.

The girl turned her attention to Rexar, her tone shifting to one of mock scolding. “Why are you making him play in this condition?”

Rexar opened his mouth to reply, but Vaelyn cut him off with another rapid-fire fit of sneezes.

“Hhh… hhh’IESHHHhh! hh’EISHHHH! ISCHHH! ISH!…ISH! —SH! hh—IESSHHHHhuhh!”

Vaelyn doubled over, clutching his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. His flushed face and glassy eyes betrayed his overwhelming fatigue, but he straightened up with a faint, defiant smile.

“Dot his fault,” he rasped, his voice barely audible. “I… I wadted to be here.”

The girl’s expression softened, and she reached out to pat his arm gently. “Well, take care of yourself, okay? We love you.”

Vaelyn’s lips twitched into a weak but genuine smile. “Love you too,” he murmured, the words carrying a sincerity that shone through his exhaustion.

As the meet and greet continued, Vee’s body began to betray him further. The wave of fans that filed through the line, all excited and eager to meet their idols, felt like an unrelenting flood. Vee smiled through it all, but each photo op was becoming more of a challenge. His chest was tight, his breathing shallow, and he had long since lost count of how many retakes had been necessary because of his persistent sneezing. His head throbbed, every sneeze sending a jarring burst of pain through his skull, and his vision was starting to blur at the edges.

His nose twitched again, the all-too-familiar pressure building behind his sinuses, threatening to overtake him at any moment. “Hh...hH’ISHHhh! Hhh—hh’ISSHH! —ischhh! Ish!—Shh!— sh! hh—! ………..hh—IISHHHHhhuhhh!!” His body bent forward involuntarily with the force of the sneeze, a muffled gasp escaping his lips before he quickly grabbed another tissue, blowing his nose as discreetly as he could manage.

“Okay... th-thadk you,” he muttered to the fan, handing them their signed poster before giving them a weak smile. But as they moved to the next person, he found his hands shaking slightly, his body swaying a little more with each passing moment. His chest felt like it was made of lead. The tightness in his ribcage hadn’t gone away, and the constant tickle in his throat made it feel like he was swallowing shards of glass.

This wasn’t sustainable. He could barely even keep his eyes open as the next fan approached. His head was pounding, his body aching from the exertion. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed, but it felt like hours. He had no idea how long he could keep this up, but he couldn't afford to let his bandmates down again. His pride and stubbornness wouldn’t allow it.

But then his vision blurred more dramatically, and the world around him tilted. The sensation of the room spinning was so overwhelming that he had to grip the wall to steady himself. His breath was coming in ragged, shallow bursts as his hands slid down the wall. He had to take a second to close his eyes, just to regain some semblance of balance.

From her spot nearby, Kriia noticed immediately. Her bright purple eyes narrowed in concern as she tugged on Rexar’s sleeve, nodding toward Vaelyn. “He’s struggling,” she said softly.

Rexar’s gaze snapped to Vee, and he frowned. “Yeah, I see it.” With a quick glance at the crowd, Rexar stepped over to Vee and gently grabbed his shoulder. “Hey, man. Let’s take a minute,” Rex said, his voice low and steady.

Vaelyn shook his head stubbornly, his tired blue eyes meeting Rexar’s sharp grey-red ones. “I’b fide,” he rasped, though his cracked voice and the tremble in his legs said otherwise.

Rexar sighed, crossing his arms. “Vee, you don’t have to do this. Seriously, we’d rather you go back to the bus and rest than kill yourself over one show. You look like you’re about to collapse on me, Vaelyn. Just... go back to the bus. It’s one night. We’ve got this. We’d rather you get healthy.”

Vaelyn opened his mouth to argue, but a deep, rattling cough overtook him, cutting him off mid-thought. He doubled over, clutching his chest as the coughs shook his already worn-out frame.

Without realizing it, the next fan in line had already been let through by security. A short, thin goth girl approached them with a confident stride, her single emerald green eye locking onto Vaelyn with obvious admiration. The left side of her face bore a sewn-shut eyelid, giving her a striking appearance, but her energy was all charm.

Vee forced a smile, trying to push past the mounting dizziness. “Sorry for the hold-up,” he said, straightening his posture despite his body’s protests.

“Oh my god, Vaelyn,” she gushed, her voice dramatic and dripping with affection. “Don’t apologize! You look like you’re not feeling well, poor thing.”

Vee straightened up as much as he could, his 6’2 frame towering over her petite stature. Despite his pounding headache and burning throat, he forced a weak, hoarse chuckle. “Is it that obvious?” he asked, sniffling as he rubbed at his raw, twitching nose.

“Absolutely,” she replied, blinking her good eye at him in an exaggeratedly seductive manner. “But that’s okay—I can always just take care of you back at the bus while they play the show...”

Rexar smirked silently, raising an eyebrow as he looked between the girl and Vee, his amusement barely concealed.

Vaelyn managed a dry laugh, shaking his head slightly before his breath hitched violently. “Hhhfugk—hhhold o—hh! Hh’EISHHhh! IESHHhh! ISHHHhh!—ISH! —SHHh! —shh! —sh! ………………….hh—IISHHHHuhh!” He barely had time to breathe before the rapid-fire sneezes took over, bending him at the waist as he desperately buried his face in the crook of his arm.

The girl pouted, her gaze filled with something close to desire. “Bless you, babe,” she cooed, placing a hand on his arm as he straightened, sniffling harshly.

Rexar snorted softly, unable to hold back his amusement any longer. “So… you gonna take her up on that, Vee?” he asked, his tone teasing.

Vaelyn shot him a tired, unimpressed glare before turning back to the girl with a weak smile. “As dice as that souds,” he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper, “I thidk I’d just edd ub sdeezing all over you.”

She laughed, her confidence undeterred. “I wouldn’t mind,” she teased, winking as Rexar barked out a laugh beside her.

Vaelyn raised an eyebrow at the girl’s bold response, his glassy blue eyes narrowing slightly as he scrubbed at his raw, irritated nose with the heel of his hand. He sniffled wetly, mulling her words over in his fever-addled mind. On any other day, he might have jumped at the opportunity—groupies were practically an unofficial part of the tour, and he regularly blew off steam in their company. But something about her offer felt strangely intimate, even vulnerable. The idea of being cared for, especially in his current state, made him hesitate.

The pounding ache behind his temples wasn’t helping either, each throb deafening and relentless. Yet, as if sensing his reservations, the girl doubled down.

She tilted her head, her choppy black and lime-green streaked hair falling across her good eye as she leaned closer. “Come on, Vaelyn,” she purred, her tone dripping with charm. “You deserve a little TLC after everything, don’t you?” Her fingers brushed lightly against his arm, her touch lingering.

Vaelyn’s tired eyes flicked to her hand, and he let out a weak, raspy chuckle. Before he could respond, she leaned in further, practically throwing herself at him with a flirtatious smile. “I can make you feel so much better,” she added, her voice low and sultry.

Despite himself, Vaelyn felt his lips twitch into a faint smirk. It wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever heard, even if the sharp ache in his skull made it hard to think straight. “You’re damn persistent,” he rasped, his voice hoarse and laden with congestion.

“I just know what I want,” she shot back confidently, batting her lashes at him.

For a long moment, Vaelyn considered her, his tall frame leaning heavily against the wall. His resolve to tough it out for the show was already wavering, and the promise of rest—no matter how unconventional—was too tempting to pass up. With a low sigh, he nodded. “Alright,” he murmured, his tone resigned but tinged with amusement.

Kriia and Rexar, both observing the exchange from a few feet away, froze in shock. Kriia’s mouth opened slightly in disbelief, while Rexar’s sharp grey-red eyes widened before narrowing in realization.

“Wow,” Rexar said, stepping closer and crossing his arms. “You must feel like absolute dog shit if you’re sitting out for a hot groupie.” His tone was teasing, but concern softened his words.

Vaelyn shot him a tired glare, though the corners of his mouth twitched. “Yeah, well... dot your busidess,” he croaked, scrubbing at his nose again.

Rexar nodded, his playful demeanor briefly slipping as he looked Vaelyn over. His sharp gaze scanned his best friend’s flushed face, bloodshot eyes, and slumped posture. “Be safe, alright? And feel better,” he said sincerely.

Then, with a grin, Rexar’s trademark mischief returned. He clapped Vaelyn on the shoulder, his voice loud and teasing as he glanced between Vee and the girl. “Have fun, you crazy kids!”

Vaelyn huffed a weak laugh but said nothing, watching as Rexar headed back toward the crowd to break the news of his absence.

For a moment, doubt crept into Vaelyn’s mind. Was he really making the right decision?

But before he could dwell on it, the tickle in his nose surged to life with startling intensity.

“Hhh—hhhold o—hh! fugk! Hhh—hh’ISSHHHhuhh! hh’EISHHHH! ISHHHhh!—ISHh! —ish! —shh! —sh! Hehh—!…………… hH’EISSHHhhuh!” The fit folded him in half, his long frame trembling as he scrambled to bury his face into his elbow. Each sneeze wracked his body, leaving him gasping and red-faced. When he finally straightened, his breath was labored, and a marshy, waterlogged sniffle escaped him.

The girl watched him crumple, her expression shifting into one of unabashed desire. “God, you’re so fucking hot...” she muttered, her voice barely audible over the pounding in Vaelyn’s head.

He raised an eyebrow at her, one corner of his mouth quirking up in incredulous amusement. “Seriously?” he croaked, his tone both baffled and dry.

She simply smiled, unashamed, as Vaelyn sighed heavily, resigning himself to whatever came next.

Vaelyn sniffed and rubbed at his nose, his tired blue eyes narrowing as he looked at the girl standing before him. “Okay, so what’s your name then, mystery healer?” he croaked, his dry humor barely masking his curiosity.

The girl grinned, clearly pleased to have his attention. “Kalypso,” she said, her voice lilting. “I’ve been following Toad Biscuit for a while now, and when I saw you were doing a meet and greet, I just had to come. You’re my idol, Vaelyn. I had to have you...”

“Your idol, huh?” he rasped, raising an eyebrow as a faint, incredulous smirk played at his lips. His fingers pressed lightly against the bridge of his nose, pinching away the incessant itch as he mulled over her words. “Well, Kalypso, it’s not every day I hear that, especially after a sneezing fit, but thanks for sticking around.”

Kalypso laughed softly, the sound warm and inviting. “Honestly, I think it makes you even more endearing. It shows you’re just like everyone else, y’know? Besides…” She leaned in slightly, her single green eye locking onto his with a playful glint. “You’re still here, sick and all, for your fans. That’s just one reason why you’re my idol.”

Vaelyn opened his mouth to reply, but the relentless tickle in his sinuses surged forward, cutting him off. His breath hitched sharply, and he turned quickly into his arm. “Goddasdeeeze—! Hhh-hh! Hh’IESHHHhh! ISCHHh! ISHHh! —ISHh! —shh! —Sh! ——-…….. hh’EISSHHHHhuhh!” His tall frame shuddered with each release.

“Bless you,” Kalypso said softly, her hand resting lightly on his forearm.

“Thags,” he sniffled, swiping at his nose with a tissue he’d retrieved from his pocket. His shoulders slumped in exhaustion, and for a moment, he considered calling it a night. But as he glanced back at Kalypso, her earnest smile and unwavering gaze sparked something in him—a faint reminder of why he pushed himself through the misery in the first place.

“All right, Kalypso,” he rasped, standing a little straighter despite his wavering balance. “Let’s get this over with.”

As they stepped into the bus, the world outside seemed to fade away, replaced by the intimate confines of the vehicle. Kalypso closed the door behind them, sealing them in a private realm where her desires would soon unfold. Vee slumped onto his previous position on the couch, his body aching and weak, as Kalypso hovered over him, her presence dominating the small space.

"Let me help you get comfortable," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Vee's eyes fluttered closed as she gently removed his jacket, her fingers brushing against his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. She took off his torn shirt, exposing his pale chest, and leaned in, her lips brushing against his feverish skin. Vee let out a soft moan, his body responding to her touch despite his weakened state.

Kalypso's hands roamed over his body, her touch both soothing and arousing. She traced the lines of his muscles, her fingers lingering on his sensitive nipples, causing Vee to arch his back and let out a soft, feverish groan. As she explored his body, Vee's breathing became labored, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his nose surged to life. “Hhh... hh—gonna... sdeeze! hh’ESHHhh! hh’EISSHhh! Ish! —ish! —shh! hh—huhhh—HHHIESHHHHhhuhh!”

"My GOD, your sneezes, Vee…" Kalypso purred, her voice filled with delight. "I've always had a particular — err… fondness? for them." Her words sent a rush of heat through Vee's body, and he sneezed again, a violent explosion that seemed to thrill her.

“Hhhhhh—! Hh—hh’EISSHhh!”

“That's it, babe. Let it all out." Her voice was husky, filled with promise. Vee felt a rush of warmth as she gently took his face in her hands, her thumb brushing against his feverish cheek.

"You're burning up," she murmured, her breath hot against his skin. "Let me cool you down." With that, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a gentle, tentative kiss. Vee responded, his lips parting, inviting her in. Her mouth was sweet, tasting of cherry liquor, a flavor that danced on his tongue.

As the kiss deepened, Vee's hands found their way to Kalypso's waist, pulling her closer. He could feel her body heat, a contrast to his own feverish state. Her skin was soft, her curves enticing beneath the layers of her clothing. She broke the kiss, her breath coming in short gasps, and smiled wickedly.

Kalypso's hands roamed freely, exploring his chest, her touch both gentle and possessive.

Vee's hands mirrored her actions, sliding down her back, unzipping her dress. The fabric fell away, revealing a lacy black bra and her pale, flawless skin. Her body was a work of art, curves and shadows, a canvas of desire. Vee's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of her.

Kalypso stepped back, her green eye blazing with passion. She reached behind her, unhooking her bra, letting it fall to reveal her breasts, full and inviting. Vee's eyes widened, his mouth dry as he drank in the sight. She took a step towards him, her nipples hardening in the cool air, and placed his hand on her breast.

"Feel me," she whispered, her voice heavy with desire. Vee's fingers closed around her soft flesh, his thumb brushing over her nipple, causing her to gasp. Her eye closed, and she leaned into his touch, her head tilting back, exposing the delicate line of her throat.

Vee's hand moved to the small of her back, pulling her closer, his lips finding her neck, kissing, licking, and sucking gently. She moaned softly, her body arching into his touch. He could feel her heartbeat quicken beneath his lips, her scent, a heady mix of perfume and desire, filling his senses.

Kalypso's hands moved to the waistband of his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them with practiced ease. Vee stepped out of his clothes, his body now bare, revealing his lean, muscular form. She ran her hands over his chest, down his stomach, and lower, her touch electric.

"I want you," she breathed, her voice a raw, primal desire. Vee's erection strained against her touch, and she smiled, a wicked, triumphant smile. She pushed him gently onto the bed, her body following, her skin sliding against his.

As Vee lay beneath her, Kalypso straddled him, her hands exploring his body, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles. She leaned down, her lips brushing his ear, her breath hot and intoxicating. "I'm going to make you feel so good," she whispered, her voice a sensual promise.

Vee groaned as she took him in her hand, stroking him slowly, her touch firm and knowing. Her mouth found his, kissing him deeply, her tongue dancing with his.

Kalypso positioned herself above him, guiding him inside her warm, wet core. Vee gasped as she lowered herself, taking him in, her heat enveloping him. She began to move, a slow, sensual rhythm, her hips rolling, her body undulating above him.

The bus rocked gently with their movements, the fairy lights casting a magical glow over their entwined bodies. Vee's hands gripped her hips, guiding her as she rode him, her moans filling the air, a melody of pleasure. He could feel her muscles clenching around him, her body responding to his, their rhythm building to a frenzied pace.

As they moved together, Vee's feverish state seemed to melt away, replaced by a different kind of heat, a burning desire that consumed them both. Kalypso's green eye was wild, her body glistening with sweat, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"Vee," she panted, her voice pleading. "I'm so close." Vee responded, his hands gripping her thighs, his body thrusting up to meet her, their movements becoming more urgent, more primal.

With a final, desperate cry, Kalypso climaxed, her body shuddering, her muscles clenching around him. Vee followed, his release intense, his body arching off the bed, his eyes closing as he surrendered to the pleasure.

They lay entangled, their hearts racing, their breath coming in ragged gasps. Kalypso's body was a warm, welcome weight on top of him, her green eye gazing down at him, filled with a mixture of satisfaction and something more—a hint of infatuation, perhaps.

Vee smiled, his hand stroking her hair, his body still buzzing with the aftermath of their passionate encounter. He had found solace in Kalypso's arms, a brief respite from his illness, but something more had awakened within him—a desire that went beyond the physical.

[reveluving]

just a nip ; peter hale x reader x deucalion

summary: you don't understand your husbands' obsession with your fangs, and you most certainly don't question it.

warnings: some s~mut (kinky husbands, so minors DNI!) + soft & sweet!

a/n: more of our fav canine duo and their vamp wife! had this lil' idea for MONTHS so I had to let it out eventually hhhh don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» fancy reading the series? check out the m.list!

» smut includes; kinky soft dom husbands, unprotected sex (p in v), petnames ('pretty girl', 'sweetheart', 'angel'), mentions of making a facial mess, mild edging & punishment??

'A sight that they will forever treasure.' ;

Their obsession with your fangs goes beyond your expectation but for different reasons. Peter likes the surprised look on your face whenever he sticks his finger in your mouth as you yawn the way an owner would to their cat. Whether you’re in a jolly mood or going through your worst day so far, you can’t help but share the amusement he has for his habit. Deuc, on the other hand, is no stranger to doing the same but often, in a more, intimate setting. If you happened to be riding his cock? Oh, it riles him up like no other. He’ll be straight-up kinky; shoving a finger or two in your mouth to lightly run them across your little canines. He’d be smug, especially if you’re staring back into his eyes as yours glow unnaturally, wishing you could wipe the smirk off his face. 

That’s not to say they’re not in the mood to switch; Deuc loves seeing your pupils contract into slits as he teases you about your cat-like behaviour the same way Peter enjoys feeling your fangs when you go to town between the sheets, but you can tell they have their own preference over the other. 

But there is one in particular that despite never admitting it, not especially amongst each other (at least, not outwardly) is ingrained in their heads, a sight that they will forever treasure.

They have a love-hate relationship with the way you bite down on the pillow/sheets, almost shying away from one's heated gaze and obscene praises while the other growls in your ear as they pound into you from behind.

"Such a pretty, pretty girl."

"Aw, was that a little shiver I felt? You love it when I growl in your ear, don't you?"

"Don't close your eyes, sweetheart. I want those pretty eyes in me when I cum all over your face."

"You better not cum just yet, angel. You remember what happened the last time when you came without our permission, don't you?"

On one hand, they get off on the fact that the usually level-headed and sometimes bashful mother of the pack is losing herself in the sheer pleasure that only they can offer, but on the other hand, they wish to hear you scream at their mercy. Either way, they just loved how submissive you looked.

Absolute menaces.

» gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

a/n: I hope my ian/gideon enthusiasts are doing fabulous, y'all better take care, ily! 🫂❤

[valentine-cafe]

Can i ask for Orion, since i saw your latest post, what if reader was so grateful to have him and his affirmations, but started crying because they're not used to such gentleness and adoration before? Eventhough they show him affection a lot, receiving it would turn into them being overwhelmed and emotional?

. ˚◞♡ 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖��꒰ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 ꒱◞ ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ orion / reader ꒱ you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by his love for you - it wasn't something you were accustomed to. but one day you burst

𖹭. content warnings◞  hurt/comfort . 0.9k

𖹭. receipts◞  fluffy orion is the best hhhh

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 ꒱ m.list . guidelines . characters . lorebook ⊹ ۪ ࣪ 

he’d seen the tears spill before you even registered it yourself. a praise to you, was all he had given. telling you how good you were doing and how proud of you he was for your immense progress and improvement in your mental health.

it wasn’t something you were used to receiving. you’d always been the giver, but ever since you’d met this. . . bright light here in the dark of the abyss and even before. you’d sworn that your world had felt more whole than it ever had.

you clung onto your past still. wondering if it’d go away, wondering if maybe. if you were cautious, you’d watch him change his behavior around you.

he never did, other than his endless love for you growing. his care and his patience. it was an overwhelming deal. you’d been able to hold back tears in the past, wave him off and tell him you appreciate all of his kind gestures and patience.

it was the way he looked at you, with such a love in his eyes. platonically and romantically. you’d never thought someone could have that much love for you or the world in their heart at the same time, but here he was.

“my dear?” he’d hum softly, wiping away the tear with a gently swipe of his thumb against your closed eyelid. smiling in the same way he touched you, ever so softly. with his eyes carrying concern for you.

“what’s wrong?” you felt his wings drape around you at his question. arms pulling you in and sitting you down close to him. hand brushing your hair carefully.

“just. . . ‘m not used to uh. . .” your voice shakes, a sniffle and sob following right after. and you curse yourself for showing it, but at the same time. it feels good to, with him especially.

you feel safe and secure. more than you ever have.

and when you look up at him, eyes teary. while you are surrounded by his feathers that remind you of the night sky with the gold in them being the stars.

he gives you all but a reassuring look and nods, whispering a small: “go on.” urging you to talk.

“I just—” you inhale sharply and sob.

“I just need to get used to feeling loved, and safe. I don’t remember the last I felt this cared for. I don’t think I have felt it.” you allow yourself to speak, looking down with shame. yet deep inside, something feels like it’s being unclogged. relief washing over you bit by bit.

“a-and. . . i get scared, worried. at times. that you’ll ponder me pathetic. stare at me and see nothing but a weak individual who wants to love people but can’t even love themself.”

a moment of silence goes by, and you think you’ve said all the wrong things. your breath stopping, only to continue when you feel him blowing air into your face. your eyes rushing up to look back into his in shock.

“who says you are that?” he hums, giving you a compassionate, empathetic smile.

“yourself? then I do not think you should listen.” he chuckles softly, shaking his head and pulling you up in his lap. hands caressing your face gently.

“my love, if you have been told you are such things in the past. leave it in the past and let those who have told you this envy you for who you are today.” you feel a wing gently rub against your back, soothing you and your cries and sobs. helping you focus.

“for all they will ever be, are insecure and self absorbed piles of. . . well pardon my language. faeces.” he sighs out and hugs you close.

“you are too good for them, for their words to get to you. my love.” he hums, pressing a tender kiss against your temple and nuzzling his face into your hair.

“you never have to sit and worry of such things when you are here. I am here for you always, that will never change.”

your sobs halt, and you hear him sigh fondly once more.

“cry, darling. allow yourself to. you are worthy of it too. worthy of feeling”

and it doesn’t take long for the tears to spill from your eyes and run down your flushed cheeks like streams of water.

your heart clenches and you feel yourself letting go. for the first time in years. no restriction, no hesitation. just letting yourself go.

“there we go. . . good, very good. of course, my love, remember to breathe. please? come, breathe with me. inhale,” he draws in a big gulp of air and exhales together with you. “and exhale” he says in the middle of everything.

“and again.”

as the both of you continue to breathe, and you allow yourself to let out the remainders of your bundled up sadness and fears. the scene fades, leaving the two of you to eventually sit and chuckle with each other. speaking of fond times.

while the warmth of his arms stays around you.

for as long as you need.

𖹭. taglist◞ wanna join the taglist? fill out this form

𖹭. remember◞ you make a writer's day every time you like, reblog and/or comment on their piece. if you enjoyed my work, please considering doing so<3

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒔 ꒱ tip jar . masterist ⊹ ۪ ࣪

[gummyfang]

Hey, I wanted to let you know that I love your writing, your mind is brilliant 🫶

I don’t normally send in asks, but I saw that you’re open to writing for Anakin, and I was wondering if you’d be willing to make some nsfw head cannons for him? I’d especially love to hear your sub Anakin thoughts because I lot of the content I see about him writes him in a more dominant way (which is awesome, but I’m personally obsessed with submissive anakin)

Once again, you are such a gifted author, thank you for sharing your work 💕

HHHH THANK U SO MUCH FOR UR KIND WORDS <33 honestly I have so many specific interps for Anakin in NSFW situations so I'm excited to share my thoughts. NSFW below read more, duh

♡♡♡ |   ˗ˏˋ Anakin Skywalker NSFW headcanons  ´ˎ˗

Ok first things first I have some strong opinions about what he doesn't do, firstly his experience levels.

Because let's be real, if you're his partner in the first place, you're his first. Anakin is a space monk . The code he lives by essentially forces him into celibacy. Now, we know Anakin tends to discard those rules if he believes the situation calls for a different approach, but he can't do so without caution.

Also, I dunno, he seems so romantically ride or die I don't really see him as someone who'd sneak out and sleep around. Point being, his experience before getting together with you is zero.

He can't find the clit at first.

Be patient with him.

I will say this though, Anakin is an experimental person and not afraid to try new things at the risk of them not working out. This is definitely something that extends to the bedroom. He doesn't exactly have sources to get new positions from so he's just gonna tangle your legs around him in every way he can think of, all to find that new angle that he can fuck you that much better at.

And if it doesn't work, he would much prefer honesty over being told it's fine. This extends to everything in the bedroom tbh, safewords are sacred to him and he takes your comfort very seriously.

Now the perhaps more controversial take. Anakin is a switch for sure, but he has some pretty hard limits when it comes to either.

Dom Anakin

I cannot see him being into degrading you, honestly. Anakin loves you to death. You are ethereal to him. He can't cum with such filthy lies in his mouth.

Nahh Ani is praise all the way for sure. He'd brabble on about how good you look as he cums inside of you. His capacity to respond coherently goes down as he's closer to releasing but how sweetly you moan for him and how perfect you look never leaves his mind.

By extension, I don't think he'd be super into hurting you. Though he is not gonna pass up on some consensual choking and spanking.

And boy, he is mouthy.

As in literally.

While he ruts into you, he either wants his mouth on your lips, on your neck or on your chest.

When he is not babbling his praising comments to you, his mouth needs to be busy in some other way.

If you do not want marks on you, you better tell him, because he is going to have to actively stop himself from teething and sucking purple marks into your neck.

Really likes mutual masturbation as well. He tells himself he won't do it over the comms but. He will. If you or him is on a long-term trip you know damn well he doesn't have the patient to wait for either of you to come back.

Sub Anakin

Now. Sub Anakin. That is a whole other ball park.

Anakin craves control, but getting to give up every ounce of control on his own terms really arouses him.

He has some harder limits, he doesn't enjoy being in too much pain or degradation that is too harsh and personal.

But the humiliation aspects of it make him rock hard.

Honestly. He's kinda into it when he's on his knees in front of you, staring up at you with those expectant eyes, and you just barely apply some pressure on his solid crotch. Not enough for it to hurt, just for him to rut against and then make a soiled mess of his pants.

If you let him, that is. Anakin wants to be a good boy. If you tell him no he will listen.

Oh yeah he is more into sexual denial than you'd probably expect.

Orgasm denial? Hell, nothing makes him harder and whinier than making him watch you get yourself off with him unable to touch you or himself.

Or when you edge him? Make him wait until he's close to sobbing. He wouldn't cry, but if you keep going he will get real desperate.

The longer you deny him, the more he goes from bratty to begging.

HUUUUGE validation kink.

Like HUGE.

He enjoys being denied to an extent but he does want to finish on a high note. Call him a good boy, tell himhow hot he looks when he eats you out... Boy he will go feral.

Haven't written just headcanons in a while so I hope you enjoyed these rambles

[tonycries]

bro i read the leaks I WOULD HAVE PREFERRED KENJAKU TBH. that would have been sexy and antagonistic. yuta in gojo's body is just,,, yuta does NOT match gojo's vibes sdhfjkglsfdhg

thematically however it absolutely FITS for yuta to be back in the fight. no way yuta was dead. think about it! he didn't get a imaginary-final-moments scene like nanami, jogo, nobara (hhhh), or gojo.

i also SUPER appreciate that there was gojo characterization. yuta says that gojo was forced to be a monster all by himself, gojo tells yuta that he has to do this/to leave him alone, etc.

the "gojo had to be a monster" thing deserved so much more development. gege probably realized how much harder people would swoon if we got to see gojo being lonely, isolated, having people scared of him (not unlike yuta).

like damn gojo why did you train these students if you didn't want to fight alongside them? you literally said "no one will ever have to be alone"? it could have been a really moving story arc but it feels like we're only seeing pieces of it.

gege will show us yuji befriending junpei, nanami saving baker lady, nobara and her old friend, megumi and the delinquents, but not one (1) second of gojo forming connections with ordinary people, living his life.

and if gojo DOESN'T have a life outside sorcery then we deserved a scene of gojo coming home to an empty sterile apartment, not even turning the lights on, just brushing teeth, throwing off some clothes and falling into bed while he stares at the ceiling and dissociates -

ksjfhghlsdgf SORRY i'm rambling but listen. gojo is alive in our hearts where gege cannot reach him!!

TRUEEE when you put it like that it really does make sense for Yuta to take over, because Gege definitely hadn't used his full potential.

I think it just felt kinda like crammed into one chapter with all the flashbacks and everything. Though I DO appreciate how we get to see Gojo be more of a teacher.

Somehow some stupid little part of me STILL thinks Gojo will be back though?? Chat am I delusional???

I should know better than to trust a man, especially Gege but idk it just doesn't feel COMPLETE. Like fym Gojo was THAT sure he'd win??

Here's some lil predictions:

Both Yuta and Gojo end up dead, Yuji awakens some power and we see him get more MC treatment and defeat Sukuna.

Gojo and Yuta's powers get transferred to Yuji?? Somehow?? Maybe???

Yuta and Yuji fight together but ehhhh.

Oooo how cool would it be if Yuta actually defeats Sukuna but then gets corrupted or goes crazy and then Yuji has to defeat HIM.

I dunno either way I'm just sad that Gojo is a weapon both in life and in death. Let my baby REST.

[helloiamadrawer]

Gamma 1 boyfriend headcanons (DBSH) PROOFREAD!

warnings: none!

Mans is really the stoic type, always calm but ready to listen to you rant if you had a stressful day at work/school, etc.

You would be the only person he would allow to let you lay your head on his lap (let's be real here; him and Gamma 2 got firm thighs 😳) to help you relax

Not very big on PDA; as far as holding your hand is allowed ofc :)

Will take you somewhere scenic for a date or stargazing

Would rather be alone with you if he wants to sneak in a a few kisses (cause Gamma 2 started teasing him for the fun of it, ends up with a flustered Gamma 1 after then he goes to beat him up )

WOULD TEACH YOU HOW TO WORK HIS RAY GUN AND GUIDING YOU WITH HIS HANDS HHHH

Does not know how to flirt no matter how many times his twin has told him but at least he knows how to compliment you even if its first thing in the morning (he's still working on it)

he be like "😳 Hey you look beautiful today." WHEN YOU ARE UP OUT OF BED WITH A FACE MASK ON 😭

but you take the compliment anyway cause you love him for trying

HIM CALLING YOU "MY DARLING"!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

That's his contact name for you as well 🥺

Bonus: Gamma 1 would be the kind of bf that vibes himbo bodyguard energy, he's really strong just like his counterpart, he'd be up to helping you move in furniture if you get a new place around red ribbon base and maybe see him without that yellow ass jacket and see him shirtless 👉👈😳

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

ARIARIARIARIARIARI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! sunlight & cinnamon for ariver, heaven sent & mocha for arisae aaand heaven sent & strawberry for areo please please pretty please:333333333333333333 - @teddybeartoji

you’re out . for my life (i love you)

sunlight <3 - what does a perfect saturday morning look like for the two of you?

………. you and your targeted ass questions </3 MORNINGS WITH ARIVER MICKEY I WILL SOB….. tbh i think it’s just a lazy morning. we talked about it a bit so as you know i doooo see oliver as being kind of groggy in the mornings even if he does wake up early (and i think he does on work days)…. but !!! if he can sleep in :3 he does just that . i also love sleeping in on weekends but even if i didn’t i don’t think he’d let me leave the bed. i could try but he’d just tug me back into his arms and shush me if i protest :///

when he stops being all groggy and snoring into my ear (save me) he’ll get up and make us both coffee or tea + order some breakfast, and then come back to bed so we can nap some more :3c

cinnamon <3 - what pet names do they call you? what pet names do you call them?

……….. SIGHS . you’re evil :((((((

😞😞😞 well . i have told u this before but ………….. his favorite is b*by . coughs up blood ….. he abuses it so severely that his friends sometimes (jokingly) ask him if he just forgot my name ://// other than that ….. like u suggested !!!!! angel …………… SIGHS . he uses that one a lot more sparingly thank god but i think that’s exactly why it makes me crumble lmao . i doo also see oliver as being a loving user of my sweet girl/boy……… my sweet baby . maybe (dies)

:((((( mickey i don’t wanna think about this PHDLDBDDK I’M EMBARRASSED . I WOULD BE SO EMBARRASSED TO CALL HIM ANYTHING . i’m shy with petnames in general but with him especially it’s like …… he’s gonna tease me . so i can’t ….. it would inevitably end up slipping out though . when i’m in a good mood i end up calling him ’sunshine’…. just slips out . other than that i stick to his name !!! to me that’s more intimate than anything :’)) (i hate him btw)

heaven sent <3 - how did you and your lover meet?

AHH ……….. hhhh you really made me think with this one . honestly areo truly has no lore so i can’t say much about that 😭😭 but !!!!!! with arisae ……..,,,

i’m not sure where we meet but i do know that it’s very much outside of anything football related!!!! maybe we run into each other at a park he jogs at often? . maybe he saves me from a creep and that’s our first time speaking …. the important part is that i do Not know who this man is LMAO and i think that’s why he doesn’t mind talking to me. like. i am not into sports at allll and can never remember celebrity faces so ? i’m just like. nice guy at the park :3 (<- sae itoshi famous football guy) PJFDLBDKD ……

have nooo idea where the relationship goes from there but !!! it’s a sweet little meet cute <3

mocha <3 - what was your first kiss like?

dies and goes to hell . Okay

TAT MICKEY I’M SOOOOOO . okay okay … i have a very clear idea about this actually but it’s sickening . hhhhh . i think the first kiss he gives me is on the forehead ……….. serial forehead kisser . it’s the big brother instinct i’m sorry . he does it without thinking very casually and i just implode </3 alternatively i trip and hurt my knee and he patches it up + gives it a little kiss (ONCE AGAINN big bro instinct) :(((( ….. and that just spirals into little forehead kisses here and there . eventually starts kissing me on the lips after dates / before leaving for work and i’m just ???? okay ……….. he’s so sick mickey please save me. forehead kisses are for sureeee his favorite though

strawberry <3 - who’s the big spoon? who’s the little spoon?

🥺🥺🥺 GOLDEN BOYYYYYY save me from these awful men …… mickey he’s the cutest in the world :< wants to be the big spoon all the time because it makes him feel protective and reassured (that i’m not going anywhere </3) …. and i’m fine w that. however . i think we switch a lot :33 because sometimes i just wanna cling to his back like a koala + sometimes he really needs to feel small too . small and safe in my arms . it’s almost a little like a trust exercise ? either way we always sleep very safely and soundly <33

[iamthecomet]

sub bottom mountain getting absolutely destroyed by a small ghoulette

just that

that's it

I'll go back in my cave

-🪻

hhhh uh HUH. Some short Mountain/Aurora under the cut. I couldn't resist.

Aurora makes him feel small. Mountain doesn't know how she does it. The littlest ghoulette, who has to crane her neck to look him in the eye somehow makes him feel minuscule. She manhandles him with ease. She drags her claws down his spine and he folds. Brain going fuzzy. Body following commands whispered against his bicep. He's putty in her hands. He's no match for her. A sucker for wide pale eyes and a soft voice. He'll give her anything she wants. His tongue. His fingers. His cock. His tears. Whatever she demands he will gift to her. Tonight, he's given her all of it, still is. He'll give until he breaks. She's in his lap, thighs braced around his narrow hips. His cock buried deep inside of her as she grinds. Rubbing the hard nub of her clit against his pubic bone. He's been told to keep his hands to himself. He doesn't particularly want to. He wants to touch. To drag his big hands over her belly, her ribs. Wants to hold onto her hips and see the way he engulfs her. The way he can touch his fingers around the narrowest points of her. But he listens. Keeps his hands to himself, resting above his head where she put them, one of his wrists clamped in his own hand, fingers digging in harder as she clenches around him. He can't do much more than listen. He's gone. Brain filled with static. Every roll of her body makes his cock ache, over-sensitive. Only hard because of her water magic. Kept that way despite the screaming in his body. He's cum so many times already. Would have ten more times if she'd let him. Instead, she keeps him perpetually on the edge. Unable to fall off. He closes his eyes and whines. He can't think further than making her happy. Than being her toy. She curls her fingers around his throat, digs her claws in--always reluctant to glamor them. The bite of pain clears a little bit of the fuzz, but that only intensifies the way his cock hurts. Balls aching to cum, stomach clenching. He needs it--he isn't sure if he can. Isn't sure he has anything left to give. He tries to be good. Tries to hold out, but the words pour out anyway. "Rora--Aurora--please. Please let me--I need to--" She digs her fingers in harder, his vision goes fuzzy, eyes fluttering. Moaning unabashedly as she clenches around him, starts to bounce. He can't take it anymore can't stand it can't-- "Not yet," she commands. Her breath hitching. Thighs shaking. Close.

He digs his fingers into his own wrist. Feels the sudden rush of blood when she loosens her grip on his throat. Tears prick in his eyes, roll down his cheeks. He nods, breathless, desperate, devoted. He's drowning in the hot, velvet clutch of her.

He hopes he never has to come up for air.

[beplerblurbs]

Hi! can I request number 1 but can you make it Gunwook .thank you

coffee stains p.g.

a/n: hii thank u for requesting @lovehoa !! i’ll do my best. someone request taerae please 😭

pairing: gunwook x gn!reader

warnings: none! just fluffy stuff,, well not proofread

w/c: idk! will find out tmr

gunwook's parents had gone on vacation for the summer while you and him were working part time to save up for university. since you and gunwook had been dating for so long, his parents let you have the house key for those days when their son slept through his alarm…

instead, you usually make breakfast for him in the morning before you both go to work while he makes dinner or gets takeout for you after work.

you unlock his front door and slip off your shoes, admiring all of his cute family photos in the foyer, you can tell how much he loves his mom in them.

you start off in the kitchen by brewing up coffees for yourself and gunwook, and then going on to create a chocolate chip pancake batter, pouring them into heart shapes.

gunwook complained about his manager making him stay overtime last night, so you knew he was tired and decided to let him sleep in a bit. you tried to be as quiet as you could be with cooking, tip toeing around and gently closing the fridge and such.

you finished the pancakes stacks and made a side of eggs and bacon to get you guys energized for the day. you iced the coffees and added condensed milk, just like how gunwook likes it.

after setting down breakfast onto the dinner table, you think of waking up gunwook with his ice coffee. so you walk up to his door and slowly open his door to see an empty, dishevelled bed.

his washroom was outside his bedroom and it was empty, you didn’t know where he was. “hm? gunwook?” you say confused.

the moment after you suddenly saw gunwook jump from the other side of the door with his hands up and yelling to scare you.

you yelp and stumble backwards, causing the ice coffee to spill all over your clothes. gunwook catches you in time to stop you from falling, letting the plastic cup fall to the ground. he goes from a smiley, laughing mood to a solemn, worried expression.

“y/n! are you okay?” he’s checking your body to check for any injuries, you ignore him, “hhhh you’re so annoying, how can i go to work with this?!”you look at your coffee soaked hoodie and pants.

you walk to the washroom to wipe off the coffee before it gets sticky. “i’m sorry y/n i didn’t know you were bringing me coffee.” you sigh, you understand where hes coming from but you were annoyed.

“babe how am i supposed to go to work like this,” you work at the convenience store near gunwook’s but too far from your place to get a new shirt.

as if a lightbulb flashed above your boyfriend’s head, he made a small ‘o’ face while walking back into his room and back out.

“here wear my clothes,” a warm, apologetic smile grows on gunwook’s face as he hands you a clean black hoodie and sweatpants.

you take a sniff and it still smells like him even being freshly washed. you melt a little and give in, “thank you gunwook, i can’t stay mad,” you giggle, closing the bathroom door to change.

leaving the bathroom you find an empty hallway, so you go back to the kitchen to see gunwook with a new iced coffee, smiling while scrolling on his phone.

gunwook turns his head to see you, “oh…” he stands up and walks closer to you

“why do i look stupid? its a little big on me” you blush looking at yourself.

“no not at all. you look really good in my clothes that’s all” gunwook bites his lip, surprised at his confession. he found clothes engulfing you whole as very endearing and cute.

your cheeks somehow turn more beet red because of his compliment. you hug him and hide your face in his chest, “you’re so embarrassing.”

gunwook simply laughs and hugs you back, patting your head.

“let’s eat breakfast now.”

as you guys eat gunwook explains that he overheard you come in and cook breakfast which is why he waited to scare you.

“i mean, you should’ve seen the look on your face!” gunwook imitates your spooked expression, making you slap his shoulder.

“i had a whole cup of coffee in my hand! of course i’d be scared.”

gunwook taps his closed lips with his index, “mmm sounds like a you issue.” he laughs and immediately expects the worse, getting up from his seat and leaning away from you.

“you-!” you grab your half full iced coffee and get up and chase after him around the house, “i’m not afraid to throw it on you!”

mornings like these were always gunwook’s favourites.

[cyberrat]

With Husk drugged up, Angel has just been doing some light petting. Some palming and rutting, trying to wait it out, see if Husk will come to his senses. Valentino watches, bored, before idly digging through a box of toys. "Never took you to be a selfish lover Angel. I mean, he's not going to sober up until he comes at least twice. Are you going to get serious or do you need me to come over there and 'help'?"

friend, you are absolutely indulging me, and I looove it hhhh

I'm not a fan of precise numbers when it comes to these kinds of things but how horny would it be when he is watching, one of those elegant long cigarettes in one of his elegant long hands, his sharp grin slowly curdling as he realizes what Angel is trying to do... just curling around the purring kitty and letting him rut his pretty barbed cock on his furry belly.

So Valentino goes like "Angel, darling... I see what you're doing. Don't be a stupid little slut now. You know how to get me out of your system, don't you..."

nnnnghhhh

[miss-goggles]

Rough sketches for the rest of my upcoming Owl House charm series, featuring Willow, Gus, Lilith, The Collector, Vee and Belos! I'm currently torn on Vee and Belos' designs, because my rule for this set has usually been to avoid faces BUT Vee's human face is cute and showing her mouth lets me properly show her absorbing magic. Belos meanwhile idk the humanity peeking through the monster is interesting thematically?? But also the horrifying monster looks cool. Thoughts are appreciated! These will HOPEFULLY be done in the next two weeks? Hhhh I'm TRYING to get these done in time to have some for Jafax but uh we'll see how that goes. Medical Hell screwed me over hard this year

[specialgradefckr]

Heyyo! I'm usually just a lurker, but your Heatwave series has been absolutely incredible and I had to write in. I'm not usually an ABO fan, but you are rapidly changing my mind. Started with the Yuuta/Rika piece and loved your characterization of that sad eyed dude. Sweet and mostly passive while also being fully aware of reader-chan's BS.

Day 4 tho??? 🥵🔥🥵 I'm a more recent Gojo convert and oh my stars, "...you think for a moment he sounds like a dog toy. You think you want to make him your dog toy." Arrogant, but also whiney and pathetic Gojo really hits for me. The Pining? Phenomenal.

Just wanted to gas you up a bit and let you know what an excellent writer you are. Totally looking forward to the rest of the Heatwave series and whatever else your big brain cooks up in the future! 😊

wanted to gas you up a bit

awwhhhhHHh THANK YOUUUU 🥺 i super appreciate it!!!

honestly i started this blog recently and i've been trying not to compare the numbers but sometimes i get discouraged, you know? like, i AM doing it for the art (i knew day 3 was not gonna get a lot of love) but i'm posting it bc it makes me happy to see people enjoying it.

it's super encouraging to hear from you (and all the others who leave comments or reblog etc.) that my work is doing well.

i'm trying to be more critical of my own writing, fix things i don't like about it, and sometimes i need a reminder that it's still worthwhile and enjoyable to read even when i feel like it could have been better.

I've been writing like? All 10 of the Heatwave prompts concurrently, and while it means I have all of them drafted and partly written rn, it also means I switch between them a lot.

Inevitably I start to kinda. Lose the plot sometimes of a scene I'm trying to write skdfhglsdhg like the intro to the Yuta fic was SOOOO long actually and it was rambling about social phenomena with alphas, basically the omegaverse version of red pill dudes LMAOOO

and that was also supposed to lead in to like. the idea of what a REAL alpha is. the non-gendered values of leadership, protectiveness, and actually being sensitive to the thoughts and feelings of people around them (a crucial trait for someone in a leadership position).

and yuta fits those things SO WELL. he is CONSTANTLY worried about the people around them, how they feel and what they think. he admires the shit out of his classmates who like, tried to attack him when they first met fghskjdfgh. he wants to protect them but he never looks down on them.

later in the manga we see that yuta's consideration and empathy isn't just for his classmates. he cares a lot even for people who are very capable of protecting themselves - he cares about their feelings.

so i just knew like. yuta and tsundere reader. yuta who can see though your fussiness because he's always been perceptive.

yuta who thinks you're hot bc he has a constant boner for strong women but also has a deep yearning to see you be honest and vulnerable with him, and goes feral for it.

yuta who you can be vulnerable with because you know him and his gentle smile, his kind words, how he looks up to you even though he's a special grade and stronger than you'll ever be,, hhhh....

but yeah anyways. *grasps you and shakes you by the shoulder* GOJO. GOJO SATORU BEING HIS PATHETIC NEEDY SELF. GOJO BEING YOUR SQUEAKY TOY AND LOVING EVERY SECOND OF IT -

tmi but "fuck me until i sound like a dog toy" is actually something a previous partner said to me??? i've never been much of a top but hearing that just kinda had me... hsdfgjhdsg HHHHHH

i think a major part of gojo's appeal is how he can be arrogant and pretty AND sultry all at once. there's something utterly delicious about a slutty confident man who is also crying screaming throwing up for you to let him put it in you skdhflsdhg

next heatwave fic is sdkfgsdlhgshg uhhhHHhh different from the ones you have read, it's a yandere piece with gojo and geto.

After that it's another gojo piece i think you'll REALLY like >.> masochist!gojo is a favorite headcanon of mine and i was actually super hyped writing some of the smut there so far hehe.

glad you've enjoyed so far! more to come for sure ;)

[danieyells]

so, about Tohma's april fool lines. I think he deserves a few hours topping jin, as a treat.

This is not me searching for an excuse to imagine Jin being roughhanded (yes it is). But hhhh, bossy characters bottoming is my sweet pleasure. Plus I know Tohma would be a little shit about it too

(for the record I recieved this ask before posting Tohma's affinity lines myself lol I just drafted it and somehow it came out after the affinity lines did. . . .)

There is no way that Jin is a total top. Like, does he usually top? absolutely. But there's no way he's not domming from the bottom at least some of the time. Especially for Tohma. He may have a bitter relationship with Tohma but he also trusts him a lot. He'd let him fuck him. He'd lie back and take it from Tohma and let him be rough with him. He'd complain for a bit at first, but then he'd start egging him on. Come on, you can be rougher than that. Surely I didn't whip the delinquent out of you, what happened to the Vice Captain of Vagastrom?

Tohma absolutely pulls his hair and leaves marks on him that only he(and the pc, whom Jin has no problem just taking his clothes off in front of) can see. Jin doesn't see why he should, it's not like he goes anywhere that someone could see the marks.

Jin already lets him act like he's in charge in front of everyone and take care of everything he doesn't want to. He absolutely lets Tohma top the everloving shit out of him. He's been wanting that since they were first years and he saw him wrestling around with Alan and Taiga and the second and third years that came before them. Haku always poked fun at him for it. Of course the handsome, doll-faced prince wants the big burly delinquent. You want him to carry you like a princess too?

They absolutely shittalk the hell out of each other in bed though. Jin's mostly too overwhelmed for more than foul language, while Tohma's a bit more composed since he's in control and says it's unbecoming of someone of his station to be so ineloquent. Wasn't he just complaining about how Tohma wasn't being rough enough?

God. Yeah they have some borderline hatesex, those two.

[chromotps]

Another CoraLaw and AceLu HC ask. And also, shenanigans and fluff.

- Law uses Takt on Cora whenever he's about to trip, knock something over, in the enemy's line of attack and more. But also, he uses them whenever people get too physically close and "friendly" to Cora. Switching Cora with a paper that says "fuck off" infront of the person lmao. Cora teleporting into Law's side/lap and shouting apologies about what Law did even tho he has no plan to get up and go back to the person (Yes I know Cora is too big to fit in Law's lap. No I don't care about that xD). He also uses Takt to keep Cora from escaping him. Especially in arguments.

Law: Either we fix this right now or you'll stay afloat for the next 8 hours.

Cora: You seriously can't wait that long. I was a marine, I can wait!

Law: I'm a doctor AND a surgeon. You wanna test my patience? Do it now.

After 20 minutes Cora relents bc Law stares at him pointedly the whole time.

- Luffy brings Ace with him when he's on the hunt for food. He'll look for a new kind of species and have Ace cook it (AKA set it on fire until it looks cooked). Then, when they're full, they'll sit under a tree and talk about anything. They also take a short nap there under the tree. It reminds them of their adventures when they were kids (Sabo is with them in spirit /j). I think this is more of an AU where Ace joins the Strawhats, and he's joined by the hip with Luffy.

- Everytime one or two (or all) of the Heart crew members does something that will piss Law off, they hide behind Cora (metaphorically). Cora will attempt to distract Law (he doesn't even have to try, the moment Cora is on Law's line of sight almost all of his attention is on him) and calm him down. It works, kinda. Cause his idea of "distracting" Law is cuddles and kisses, but instead of Law, HE'S the one who gets distracted LMAO. So after a bit of cuddling and putting Cora to sleep, Law goes back to the crew cause he knows how the crew acts when they've done something and kept it a secret from him xD. At least Cora brought them some time to clean up whatever they could from the mess they made before Law comes back.

- Ace and Luffy will switch hats, sometimes intentionally and sometimes unconsciously. Intentionally is when one of them is feeling down or under the weather. Unconsciously is when they wake up and don't bother to see if they wore the right hat or not.

- Whenever the other crew members of the Heart Pirates wants to do something for their entertainment, they ask Cora first. If he's interested enough and also wants to do it, then they have an additional 40% chance that Law will let them do what they want. They now have a 42% chance of doing whatever shenanigan they have in mind. If there's no danger to what they have in mind, then it's an automatic win! Bonus is when Law joins in (he does it for Cora).

I don't know how to end asks lmao. I hope you enjoyed!

-S

hooo so many cute hcs!! That last idea of the Heart crew trying to get Cora on their side in bargaining deals with their captain makes so much sense. 😂 Very strategic of them... They're masters of navigating Law's pride/strong instincts of preventing fun.

And I love acelu switching hats... i think i talked on twitter once about how it would mean a lot for luffy to trust Ace with his hat, and for Ace to trust Luffy with his necklace (since it was possibly a tribute to Dadan ;w;)... hhhh sharing accessories!!!

[boonasaurusrex]

Hhhh I have oc brainrot and this is my house so I'm going to say things about it

(Long post below)

So, I've posted before about Anna and Juni and the thing about them is that they have no cannon. I made Anna to fight off the monsters from horror shows I was too young to watch and Juni because I was uncomfortable putting Anna through any horrors.

What I posted last week on sts was my ongoing attempt to force them into a coherent canon but I almost don't like it? It's a little hollow and almost doesn't fit the underlying core of the characters I have in my brain.

Why not use the progression they went through as I grew up? I insert them into *everything*, that's why I struggle to obsess over fandom characters, because my special-est guys are already there.

To make it short, I was obsessed with Oblivion growing up and Anna was part of the Dark Brotherhood.

(Juni is still nebulous at this point so we're focusing on her)

(If anyone has not played through the DB quest of Oblivion and would like a rundown, I would be so happy to talk about my favorite part of my favorite video game)

I like to think that she still watched her bio-dad (Matthew) "die" and then teleported to Cyrodil, where she immediately stumbles upon/is contacted by/interacts with somehow Lucien and latches onto him like a baby duckling.

She THRIVES in the Dark Brotherhood. This is why the solider story doesn't fit for me, because as much as she and I both want her to be a good person, a *hero*, she is not. She is someone who gleefully decapitates a guy in an alley and then goes home to brag about it to her buddies.

She is not the player in this AU. I like to think she and the player have a mirrored track, joining at the same time and being spared from the Cheydinal masacre.

(I like to think she was sent off to Skyrim or just the other side of the map for a contract, all happy (LEGITIMATELY the happiest she has ever been or will be again) and then comes home to nearly her entire family in pieces on the ground, and she CANT BE MAD AT THE GUY WHO DID IT)

She latches on even harder to Lucien at that point. One thing that's been constant is that she is someone who leaves claw marks in things. Never letting them go.

She and the player are both put on the dead drop system, and I like to imagine she notices that the higher ups are getting murdered, but Lucien is already off trying to solve that problem so she's on her own.

(Also PLEASE ask me my thoughts on how Obsidian handled that quest/reveal, I love it so much)

She's always one step behind both the player and Lucien, though she's in the players spot when she busts into Applewatch.

Just in time to see the remaining leaders deliver the final blow to Lucien's mutilated, nearly unrecognizable body.

"Hey! We found the traitor! Isn't that wonderful? Aren't you happy!"

I feel like describing it takes away the impact, so let's say that she locks the door behind them and emerged several hours later, coat a darker shade of black.

(At least two of those hours were dedicated to sobbing over Luciens' corpse and then stabbing the player's several hundred more times)

Technically the Brotherhood limps on from Applewatch, slowly growing into what it is in Skyrim, but for me it ended there. She killed it. The Final Listener.

I remember crying about this to my sister and her going "well that's what happens when you join the murder cult".

I think Anna internalized that. This happened because of the darkness. This happened because you weren't good enough to save them.

Maybe if I am good.

Maybe if I save people.

Maybe if I'm a hero.

Maybe I can save them all.

~~~

I have more but this post is long enough lmao. Send me a message if you want to talk about your ocs with mine (or just want to talk, I'm very friendly)