#truly admirable (sarcastic)

[noonewilleverknowistealkneecaps]

Look they are anxious golden retriever x mental support black cat coded

P. S. Ignore the amount of different signs, it just that i have different signatures for different art accounts on different platforms, confusing i know, i think ill have to unite them sometime soon.

[blood-orange-juice]

It's not that I don't believe Oratrice couldn't be tempered with

I'm more wondering how you'd do that

It's not like swapping a gear or two in a machine

The thing is like AI with a bit more complications

Do you just "feed" information to it prior to influence its judgement? Let's say it would accept that information. But why would you make it so it would listen to anything outside of trial?

Also

Childe

Can you stop doing Foul Legacy at ant inconvenience? Like he is all about "love crossing blades with strong opponents" but all he does is summon Mahoraga at any inconvenience

No wonder he is still shit with a bow.

True.

If it's AI, it's either done by adversarial attacks (spray Childe with some guilty pixels) or yes, by swapping (metaphorical) gears.

The first isn't that different from 'hurr durr primordial sea traces' just with an extra step, the second... If Oratrice is the old Archon's consciousness this probably can't be done at all?

maybe Childe just pissed off enough oceanids while levelling

Maybe forging the outcome in the last moment? Someone was in the reactor room (I am not sorry) while the trial was going on then (they could have fed it extra data too). Doesn't seem too plausible either.

I'm bad at analyzing lore like this so I can only think from a narrative viewpoint.

Childe just randomly being connected would be bad writing. Someone framed him. Knowing/suspecting the outcome.

Not having hints allowing us to solve the mystery would be bad writing too, it's the whodunit expanstion. So I doubt it's something about the technical details we don't know yet.

So I'll keep it simple and lean towards the primordial sea connection (the question is then who could have known about it) and no tampering with the machine itself.

Also do we have the familiar voice Lyney heard in the secret room accounted for? Was it Cowell? Or was it dropped?

Maybe I'll have something to say once I go through the world quests. They usually have important lore. Maybe we do know the Oratrice technical details and I'm just not there yet.

*

Childe.

Can't stop won't stop. That seemed more like desperation than inconvenience to me though.

[yougavememyopia]

Here's the result from the poll! Sorry, it took long. I lost my progress and had to write it over T-T. Longer than usual to make it up to my lovely peeps. Anyway, here is the confident, popular yandere who becomes a desperate pathetic mess for you.

Popular yandere, who was never alone. Circled with adored gazes and loud chatters, people gathered around him like he was some kind of celebrity. His overstretched smile full of fake glee. Crinkled eyes masking a hollow emptiness. No one would care enough to truly look at him, all too busy talking nineteen to the dozen.

It was so easy to predict them. The mundane topics boring him to death. Nothing exciting ever happened. Gritting his teeth, he endured their ramblings. Endured their dullness. Their stupid problems.

Taps of his pencil slapped the wooden desk rapidly. A practiced, charming grin when he greeted you— his new project partner. The invisible loser at the background whose face he rather recognized.

"Hey there, guess we're partners, huh? What a total unplanned coincidence! Uhh, anyway, you can pick the topic. Nono, please, go ahead. I'll just follow your lead."

His crew strolled passed you in the fields. Always sinked down on the grass with your back against the concrete wall. Blue light reflected on your face, nose buried deep in your phone.

Your lack of a life amused him. Fascinated at how isolated you were, and yet you were beaming. Giggling at your screen while your posture got worse. Not seeming a bit sad about being alone or wasting your time playing on a machine.

Simple enquiring quickly led to obsessive stalking. Justified by stating how he was merely observing you. Interested in your name and your hobbies, what you ate for the day, where you walked when you had no school, how the interior of your home looked like. A bit of curiosity, that was all!

The school project was the key to getting closer to you. Instant refusal to every person coming his way, sweet talking them into grouping together by pointing out their strengths. No objections were made. His judgment very well-trusted. Now you had the idolized annoyance as your group member, exactly like he planned.

FINALLY, he could talk to the nobody persistently invading his mind. The endless thoughts of you giving him heartache. He couldn't get his beauty sleep at night, and when he did, the dreams were all about you. He wasn't normally the type to approach people, not like he had the time to. Every waking moment of his day was stuffed with zealous yet shallow admirers. Everyone loved him. Gawking at his good looks, adoring his style, praising his intelligence.

You didn't even bat an eye.

He was nonexistent to you. Eyes boring into indifference. Frustrated, at how you treated him like he was someone insignificant. People already began to question his strange, out of the blue behaviour. How he stared at the wall without blinking. You were getting the best of him— he couldn't keep his mask on, uncontrollably snapping at people, apologizing as if he was having a bad day. Every day was a bad day. A torturous wait for you to just look his way.

If you didn't notice him anytime soon, he was going to do something crazy.

Thanks to the project, you finally spoke to him. Irritated, sure. But you saw him, a dopey grin on his face when you repeated back his name. Even getting away with patting your shoulder. He greeted you in the hallways the day after, approached you during lunch the next week, and then started to text you like crazy the following month. No idea how clingy he was acting until you pointed it out. Falling more in love with your weirdness and hidden personality.

You acted uncertain towards him. Hesitant that this was a prank. Afraid that you'd become a laughing stock if this progressed any further. So you built a metaphorical wall between you.

Questions after questions overwhelmingly flooded his brain. Your behaviour much different than the way he was used to being treated. Sarcastic remarks and harsh dismissals hurt his poor, sad heart.

He started to crave even the slightest approval from those around him— what did they think of his carefully picked outfit? Or his light makeup and shiny hair? He needed you to drool over him like the rest of the school did, yet you still didn't trust him. Accusing him of being fake, when all he wanted was to befriend you.

"B-but I swear, I genuinely want to be your friend. Please, listen. I can be myself around you. I don't have to be perfect, y'know? I thought you'd understand..."

As you grew more doubtful of his intentions, he became more hopeless. Desperate to change your mind while fighting the insecurity that loomed over him.

You pushed him to completely give in to the urge to follow you home and watch over you from a distance. He'd ask his many connections to keep an idea on you when he couldn't, but since their questions and teasing and judgement would get on his nerves, he settled for a tracking device instead. The digital dot always beeping in the same, familiar spots on the map.

His mind jumbled into a chaotic mess. Your dislike for him beyond his comprehension. All he ever did was be nice, so why did you not give him the time of day? Gifts nor compliments, nothing was good enough for you. He had never did anything like this before. Chase after someone. Love, actually love someone.

For your attention, he was willing to do whatever.He longed to be useful to you. Be at your beck and call at any time like a loyal dog. Everything from your terrible posture to your poor diet to your sleep schedule, he could take care of it. He could take care of you.

In the end, he had no patience, he couldn't stand the wait— he had to ask you out. A spontaneous minute that he wished he could take back. Stutters left his lips while he tried to make the date sound super romantic. Roses, candle lit dinner, moonlight. A perfected plan delivered with anxious jitter. Red face burning hotter than glowing coals and big, round eyes awaited the response.

"Eh... no thanks."

His eyes twitched. You were a loser! A common known label that he hated to use. But how could you turn down the first guy who pursued you? Choosing fictional anime crushes over a live flawless boy pleading for a date. How long were you going to stay in your lonely shell as a kissless virgin?

His determination didn't waver. He was willing to do anything to win you over. Countless attempts turned down due to excuses. Weeks after weeks of him chasing after you. You were driving him insane. Like you were doing this on purpose. "No?!? W-Wha... Why not? You don't want to go outside, you don't want to come to my place, why... Why can't I come to yours? I-I don't care if it's messy or if it s-smells. I actually love it. Um, I just need a chance, please. I need to prove to you that my love is real."

How did he end up being the one begging at your feet? Fingers clenching around your calves, while he looked up with a shameful blush on his face. Embarrassing himself in front of everyone he knew. Their gasps and murmurs ringing through his ears. Humiliation turning his body weak. Hot unwanted tears flooding his vision. He didn't care— he couldn't take the rejection anymore.

"Please believe me, please. It hurts so bad. Ah, I can't breathe. I love you so much. Pleasepleaseplease don't push me away. Don't cast me aside. I want to be with you. I want to be with you..."

He could barely make out your face with the fat tears rolling down his cheeks. His forehead rested on your knee, his head down as if waiting a death sentence. It was getting more awkward the longer he stayed on his knees. Yet he stayed glued to the harsh, cold floor. He'd never felt emotions to this level of intensity before you came. The hurt tightening his chest. A vice grip clamping down to crush his lungs.

Rubbing the back of your neck, you sighed. Feeling bad about the dishevelled flawed mess he turned into. Sweat worked up on your skin from the many eyes staring at the scene.

"You won't stop until I say yes, huh? I guess you proved you were telling the truth. So, fine. Let's get going now... You brought quite the audience here."

"..." His head remained stuck against your knees. Hands shaking against your legs while he exhaled. Not budging at all. The hushed whispers exchanged in the background making your blood boil. "What are you guys staring at? Scram! Go away! Leave him alone."

And they slowly faded one by one. You ran a hand through the soft, silky hair of the needy boy. More attentive to the mess on the floor to care about your surroundings anymore. Sitting on the floor beside him, you lazily wrapped his arms around your neck. A finger pressing his chin up so you could take a good look at him. He sniffed. Eyes all puffy and red. A deprived beg escaping his glossy lips.

"Please... I—"

You cut him off with a small smile. "You can hug me until you're satisfied. I'll be here."

Arms tangled tighter around you. Head tilted in, and you realized what this meant. A hint of anxiety bursted butterflies your stomach. But you went for it. Suppressing the flinch and moving in. Eyes half-lidded when velvety flesh met. Low hum buzzing from him. He pulled you closer and closer. Lips parted while you snaked your tongue into his mouth. A loud moan met your eardrums. Your little theory of him wanting you to take charge confirmed correct.

He melted like butter despite how you barely knew what you were doing. Uneven movements and unsure licks were just met with pathetic whimpers. Each stroke of saliva making him hot and dizzy. You had a way of making him unbelievably sensitive. No clue to why he felt like this was his first real kiss too. Never understanding the fuss about this pleasant feeling until now.

He pulled back for breathe much too soon, and panted against your face. "I'm so glad we found each other, darling. C-can I call you that? Since I'm your b-boyfriend now... Right?"

You didn't answer. He didn't give you a chance to. Another peck was placed on your lips. Desperate tongue reaching to wet your lips while you cupped his face. Hands grabbing your wrists to ensure you keep them there. Determination ran through him; He was going to plead and plead until you finally gave in.

[m0llygunn]

a job well done (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)

summary: long-term admirer, recent tutor — you find out eddie's failing gym. in an ode to help him, your expertise expands beyond just textbooks — to your fortune, he teaches you something you've been dying to learn too

contents: 18+, smut!!!, porn with plot, lots of ball action <3, oral (m receiving, mentions of f receiving), pet names and praise (baby, good girl), somewhat-inexperienced!eddie, tutor!reader an: i made an $8k mistake irl so heres 8k words that i wrote to forget about it (just kidding (not abt the mistake, that's very real) i started writing this in july 2023 but recently rewrote most of it to make it into a big ol' one shot-ish thing) wc: 8.5k

“You’re failing gym?” you gasp, jaw dropping as your eyes scan over his report.

“No!” he replies, trying to steal the envelope and its contents from your hands. You turn your body just in time for him to grasp at nothing but air. 

You started tutoring Eddie about a month into the semester. He’s been a willing participant for the most part and that’s why when he kept coming up with excuse after excuse for why he didn’t have his midterm report you knew something was up. 

You took it upon yourself to do some investigating. Nothing invasive, just when you got to his place for a regular tutoring session, you decided to look through his bag while he was in the bathroom. On his bedroom floor, filing through the bags endless messy contents, you eventually came across the familiarly coloured yellow envelope and helped yourself to a peek at what he was keeping a secret from you. 

Mere moments later, he was back. He immediately noticed what you had in your hands and crashed to the floor trying to get it away from you. Evidently, a failed attempt. 

“You have a — oh god, not just a D, a D minus, Eddie.” 

“That’s not failing,” he mumbles under his breath. You wave him off before dropping his report to the floor in front of you. He grabs it, crumples it into a ball, and petulantly tosses it to the other side of his room. 

“You never even told me you were taking gym.”

“Cause how’re you supposed to help with gym?”

“The tests! There’s a whole health portion, I could’ve been helping you with that,” you say, getting worked up over it. Eddie’s been doing so well, this was truly blindsiding.

“Yeah… cause I really want help from you with the health portion,” he grumbles sarcastically. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like it means,” he shrugs. 

If you weren’t paying attention, you might think he was angry — maybe even being mean. Luckily, you’re always paying attention to Eddie Munson, and you see the way his face flushes to a bright, crimson red. His annoyance is actually just embarrassment — which is good — at least he has some level of remorse for his failing grade. You can work with that. You take a breath, exhaling it slowly, forcing yourself to calm down. 

“Show me what you’re working on.”

“No,” he shakes his head, reaching into his bag, shuffling around some papers before tossing a heavy textbook your way. “Let’s just do math.”

“No, you have a B minus in math now, that doesn’t need help. You need help in gym.” you reply, tossing the textbook back at him. 

“I don’t.”

“Eddie, you do.”

Sitting up to your knees, you reach into his bag once more, taking out his binder and dropping it to the floor in a pointed thump. He mumbles some kind of disagreement, spine going stiff with his hesitancy to let you go through his stuff some more, but he doesn’t make any attempts to physically stop you. 

You flip through the disorganization that you’ve told him countless times to organize until you come across a diagram of a penis and a vagina. Bingo.

“Told you,” he mumbles, scoffing to himself. 

“Told me what?”

“Why would you want to help me study that?” 

“Uh— cause it’s part of your class and I don’t want you to fail,” you say matter of factly. “Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.” 

Bright red continues to flourish across his skin, affecting the apples of his cheeks all the way down to his throat. He turns bashful, eyes locking down on the carpet. 

Eddie’s shy — not often, but he is. You wouldn’t think so from the way he acts at school and in most public atmospheres, but get him in a room, one-on-one, and he’s all blushed cheeks and shy touches. It’s sweet and it’s one of your favourite things about him — but you don’t have time for sweet shyness right now. He’s failing gym for christ sake — gym.

“So, how do you want to do this?” you ask, slapping your hands to your thighs. Eddie startles, jolting before his wide eyes find yours. 

“Do what?”

“Study this,” you motion to the diagram on the floor separating the two of you.

“I— I’m not… we’re not—“

His eye contact goes rogue again, diverting anywhere else — everywhere else that isn’t you. Shy, shy, shy. Too shy. More shy than normal. And you have an inkling that it has to do with the subject of the conversation at hand. 

“Oh my god, Eddie. This is basic human anatomy. I think we’re grown up enough to handle a little penis and vagina,” you state, tacking on a laugh. 

You get a hint of Eddie's true personality beyond his shyness — it emerges through a quirk of his lip, the corner of it tweaking upwards into the hint of a smirk. 

“A little penis?” He parrots, his smirk fully emerging now. This boy.

“Cue cards? Should we do cue cards?”

He groans, body deflating. “You know I hate cue cards.”

“Okay, so let’s just go over the parts for now, then we can move on and do something else.”

You clear out a bigger area on the floor, making space for your study session. Eddie helps by kicking back stray articles of clothing and then picking out what looks like spilled weed from the carpet and collecting it in the palm of his hand. You’re a touch more productive, taping little pieces of paper over the diagram labels. When you’re done, you sit up admiring your work. Eddie stands, dropping his little handful of greenery onto his desk before sitting down on his bed. 

“Do you want to do it up there or down here?” You ask. 

The slight double entendre isn’t lost on you, you heard it before you even said it. Now knowing how shy Eddie is about this stuff, you couldn’t help but push your luck, and the blush that spreads across his cheeks makes it entirely worth it, especially while you deadpan and pretend you have no clue. 

“I’ll come down there—“ He says and you watch him physically recoil as his words set in. You resist your laughter. 

“Come, Eddie. Faster,” you tease, laughter starting to bubble up. A smile breaks through his embarrassment.

“Jesus Christ, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You like seeing me suffer?”

“Me? Teasing you on purpose? Never.”

With a shake of his head, he joins you on the floor, leaving a large gap between the two of you. “Can we not do this, I already know this stuff.”

“Oh yeah? Eddie Munson is well versed in human anatomy?”

“I’m — I’m not going to answer that,” he crosses his arms. 

With a clap of your hands, you ignore his pouty demeanor. “Okay! Let’s just do this, the quicker you memorize everything the quicker we can not do this.”

With both of the diagrams set up, you give him the option of starting with the penis or vagina first. He chooses the easy answer, opting to go with the penis. 

One by one you point out each part of the penis, asking him for the anatomically correct name. You quickly understand why he’s failing. 

“Okay, and this one is…?”

“The head,” he states. 

“I mean… sure,” you nod hesitantly — “but the little arrow is pointing there — the glans. This one?”

You continue going through the chart, teaching Eddie the proper names for everything. When you finally graduate to the diagram of the vagina, Eddie is physically squirming in his spot. 

“Eddie, relax. Seriously. We’ve all seen a vagina before.”

“It’s so fucking hot in here, are you hot?” He groans, standing up and tripping his way to the window, slamming it open with a grunt. 

He’s barely made his way back before you have a thought.

“You’ve seen a vagina before, right?” 

He freezes — just for a moment, but you catch it. On his way to return to his spot on the floor he pauses, then continues moving as if you haven’t asked him a question. When he sits, you quirk a brow. 

“Yeah!” He answers. His voice tunes so high, it begs to crack.

You nod skeptically. You wouldn’t say he’s lying per se, but something seems off. Something that you’re interested in getting to the bottom of. 

“Let’s take a break, okay?” You offer.

“Yeah, a break’s, uh — good.” He exhales, letting out a breath of relief. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, fanning it in and out, getting some air flow on his skin. It’s very suspicious and you have to assume —

“So, you’ve never seen a vagina,” you say.

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “I have! I’m not a virgin.”

“You’re squirming like one.”

“I’m not!”

“There’s nothing wrong —”

“I’m not!” He says much louder, cutting you off. 

You believe him, seeing the full depth of sincerity in his amusedly large, and overly serious eyes. 

“Okay,” you nod.

“I’m not,” he insists once more, tone leaning towards stern. 

“I believe you, Eddie.”

The two of you sit quietly in your respective spots. You could busy yourself with getting some more studying stuff ready, but somehow — even though there was some verbal finality — this conversation doesn’t seem over. 

And with an inhale from Eddie, it’s not.

“I’ve just never been like…” he pauses, thinking, “I’ve just never been all up in there.” He makes a crude motion with his hands, both palms splayed out flat in your direction, moving outwards like he’s spreading something out. 

“You’ve never eaten a girl out before?”

“What are we doing?” He says, dropping his head into his hands, scrubbing at his cheeks with both palms. 

“You don’t have to answer. Seriously, if I’m really making you uncomfortable, I’ll stop. Swear.”

His chest inflates with a deep breath, then his head pops up. “I have but only for like a minute, in the dark, parked outside of the hideout after a gig,” he confesses. You raise your brows, surprised.

“You work quickly. A minute, that’s impressive.”

“No… Jesus, no,” he winces. “I fucking wish. We got interrupted and… yeah she never wanted to hang out after.”

“Oh,” you hum. “That sucks.” You tilt your head at him, frowning apologetically. 

“Yeah. She, uh, I’m pretty sure she had a boyfriend but I didn’t know when we… yeah.” He concludes his confession with a shrug before sitting back to lean against the side of his bed. 

“That really sucks. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, tacking on a laugh. It’s not a nervous laugh. It’s genuine and you take his lack of nervousness as permission to continue the conversation. 

“So… Do you have a tactic?”

“Tactic?”

“Yeah. Like, most guys use the alphabet on the clit thing, which is awful by the way, don’t do that.”

“I think…” he raises his brows. “I think, maybe, just being overzealous is my thing. I don’t really know — I haven't done it enough to have a tactic.”

“Overzealous is good…” you nod, “as long as it’s strategic.”

Eddie meets your gaze. He’s intrigued — “Elaborate?” he asks. 

“Like, sure if you want to go to town and eat the pussy, go for it, but the only place it really counts is the clit — of course everything else is nice too, but the clit is definitely where it matters,” you nod to yourself, punctuating your statement. “And—” you add on, raising your hand, bringing together two of your fingers to mime the curling motions of getting fingered. “I like when they use their fingers too. It's a lot better like that.”

Eddie goes silent. He looks like he’s thinking, maybe even committing your words to memory— but it’s an odd look he has on his face. One you’ve never seen before from him.

“Sorry, did I say too much?” You laugh, trying to diffuse. Eddie looks at you, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

“Why the fuck are you tutoring me in going down on a girl right now?” He laughs. 

You smile, appreciating his amusement. Tilting your head boastfully, you accept his comment like a compliment. “Just a natural born teacher, I guess,” you tease. 

He nods, humming agreeingly. He doesn’t say anything more but you’ve got a handful of curiosities burning through your back pocket, and when in rome…

“Are we done with this conversation,” you ask, “or can we keep going ‘cause I might have a few questions for you?”

“Hasn't this whole conversation already been an interrogation of my experiences?”

“But this might be your only opportunity to teach me something, Edward.” You jet out your lower lip, pouting it, rounding your eyes at him — trying your best to keep this going. 

He rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance. 

“Are you about to ask me if I can move my dick without my hands, because the answer is yes but it’s not full control.”

“That’s not what I was gonna ask, but very cool.”

“Sorry. That’s usually what girls ask.”

That has been a curiosity but your questions… your questions are much more… sophisticated? 

“So can I?” you ask. 

“Can you?”

“Ask you questions?”

He bites his lip, pointedly making you sweat it out. With a dramatic sigh, he gives in. “Go for it.”

You sit up straighter, very pleased with his answer. 

“Balls,” you state. Eddie’s eyes widen immediately — you ignore the regret that flashes across his face. “Do you like them being touched? Every time I’ve done anything with them, the guy kind of, like, recoils and it feels like I did something wrong.” 

“Jesus…” he clears his throat with an awkward laugh. “You’re really going for the big questions, huh?” 

“The big questions?” You raise your eyebrows suggestively. 

“No, Jesus I’m not implying my balls are — holy shit. My balls are normal sized, that’s not what I meant.” He continues to laugh through his embarrassment, cheeks heating right back up to that very cute, bright, red colour. 

“I’m just teasing you, Eddie. I’m sure your balls are lovely and perfectly normal sized.”

He hums appreciatively but it gets stuck in his throat, coming out as a high pitched croak. He clears his voice, nodding as he raises a hand to the back of his neck, wringing it nervously.

“You don’t have to answer, but I would appreciate knowing,” you say, softly, sympathetic — leaning into apologetic. He nods again, and you can tell the gears are spinning in his head as he thinks over his answer. 

“They’re just… sensitive,” he swallows. “But… I do like them being played with, or sucked, or licked… or whatever.” 

His eyes focus on the far wall, not out of nervousness or shyness this time, but more like he’s giving his words some real thought. You appreciate it and wait patiently for him to continue. 

“I guess I would have to say that it’s personal preference, so ask?” he continues unsurely, eyes still focusing elsewhere. “I mean, no guy is ever gonna be mad if you ask to put their balls in your mouth — or… whatever you want to do with them.” He looks at you with wide eyes as he suddenly gets nervous again. You wave him off, letting him silently know that ‘balls in your mouth’ is not an offense to you.

“Could you cum from someone playing with your balls?”

“Holy shit,” he gasps, laughing. His hand that was wringing his neck drops to his lap in a heavy thud. At the same time, he brings up both knees, hugging them halfways to his chest as he mulls over his answer. “Um? Maybe? But, I think a big part of it is a visual thing — like, it adds to the hotness when they’re into the balls?” He finishes, adding an unsure inflection to the end of his remark. You nod, narrowing your eyes into a squint as you absorb what he’s saying. 

“So it doesn’t feel good?”

“It does,” he quickly corrects, “just anything on the head feels way better.” 

“Okay… good to know.” You nod, moving on. “And dirty talk. You really like that? Like, when the girl’s going on and on about your ‘big cock in her tight little pussy’, is it not weird?”

“Jesus, you really aren’t holding back with these questions.” He smiles through the blotchy redness growing down his neck all the way to the collar of his shirt.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” you promise, dipping your face lower to catch Eddie’s gaze. He holds it for a second, before letting his eyes roam the room. 

“Dirty talk is hot, obviously, but… it’s not when it’s rehearsed shit like that. It makes it feel like they’re performing — and maybe I’m just doing a piss poor job and they are performing — I don’t know, but I’d rather hear about what you actually like that I’m doing. Even if you’re telling me to go faster or harder or whatever. That’s fucking hot.”

“Alright, so be genuine. Cool,” you nod. 

“You done with questions?” He meets your gaze with raised brows for a fraction of a brave second before quickly looking away. 

The thing is, you’re not done. 

“So, hypothetically, if someone you didn’t like played with only your balls, and it wasn’t hot— like nothing about it was hot, would you still cum?”

He doesn’t give you the same surprised initial shock as he did with all the other questions. This time he just lets out a long, evenly staggered breath through puffed out cheeks. 

“I think…” He hugs his knees closer to his chest, rubbing both his palms along his shins quickly, filling the silence with the sounds of skin on denim. 

You can see the edge of his words in his expression, like he wants to say something but is holding it back. Whatever it is, you wait patiently — you do sit up a little straighter though, eagerly leaning inwards, listening with baited breath to his quiet, pensive hum.

His lips twitch, mouth opening then closing. With a loud exhale, he lets go of his shins, letting his knees drop from their upright position, and with that, his resolve breaks.  

“Fuck it” he curses — “Probably. Sometimes I think that the wind blowing the wrong way could make me cum. Like, I’m fighting for my fucking life to not get hard right now.”

He ends his speed-run confession with a pant, chest shallowly heaving with each breath. Excited wings beat inside your chest, dipping down to your belly as you absorb what he's just said to you. 

“Really?” you ask, blinking wide eyes at him. His breathing evens out, and he meets your gaze.

“Yeah,” he shrugs shyly — cutely.

“You know I like you, right?” 

His face falls. “What?” His brows press together, furrowing with confusion and you really don’t know how you could have been clearer about this whole ordeal.

“Eddie,” you smile. “I’ve told you like a million times that I like you — like earlier, I told you barely an hour ago before we got started.”

You said it quite plainly too; ‘Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.’ 

“Yeah, but I thought you meant as a… a person? Or a friend?”

You can’t help but laugh — not at him… well, a little bit at him, but this is just so ridiculous, how could he be so clueless. 

“I love my friends but I don’t think I would fill all my free time teaching them math and all the anatomical correct names of the different parts of the penis.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, they’re good people but that’s not exactly my idea of fun,” you tease. “Of course I’m serious, Eddie. So if you wanted to make a move… I wouldn’t be opposed.” 

At this point, after a confession as straightforward as that, you’d hope for movement — anything — even him getting closer to you, moving in for a kiss at the very least… but he stays sat in his opposite spot, his binder with the vagina diagram laid out flat, separating the both of you. 

Maybe you read this wrong — backpedal. 

“Did I just make this weird? Should I have not said that? I like tutoring you too, I don’t want you to think I’m expecting something from you just because I’ve been helping you.” You ramble apologetically, shrinking into yourself as you feel your whole body start to flush with icky embarrassment.

Eddie’s spine goes rigid as he sits up pin-straight, shaking his head emphatically.

“No! I like you too,” he interjects, leaning towards you, putting a hand on your knee. “Even before you started tutoring me.” 

“You do?” You sigh a breath of relief. Meeting his eyes, you smile sweetly, ignoring the whiplash that still has your stomach pinched in a half knot.

His voice gets soft with his confession — “Why do you think I didn’t want to sit around looking at penises and vaginas with you?” he laughs quietly,  “I was terrified of getting hard and scaring you away.”

The mention of him getting hard has your eyes flickering downwards for a split second. You can’t tell, but you tease him anyway — “And how’s that working out for you?”

“If you’re asking if I’m hard…” He trails off, smiling nervously, leaving you with a confirmed suspicion. 

“Should I make a move?” 

“Well, I’m not opposed.” He says it like it’s a joke — you know he’s being funny, breaking tension or whatever, but you don’t laugh. You perk up, tummy filling with fluttery feelings because that’s permission.

Permission to crawl the short distance between the two of you.

Permission to help yourself to his lap — pulling your skirt up high enough to straddle his upper thighs.

Permission to let your hands feel from his shoulders, down to his pecks. 

Permission to be this close to him — close enough that you can see every shy detail, every cute freckle, every nervous flutter of his lashes. 

Best of all — it’s permission for an intimacy you’ve been waiting for — longing for.

You sink yourself against him and — “Oh,” you gasp, “you weren’t kidding.” 

Through the thin cotton of your underwear, you feel the hard curve behind the zip of his jeans. It has you biting your lip, holding back your grin. 

His eyes coast your features, narrowing in on the tweaked up corners of your lips. He ghosts a quiet ‘yeah’, dipping his face downwards, hiding his own coy smile. 

You just won’t have that — you bring your hands to his cheeks, tilting his chin upwards, encouraging him to look at you. He lets you guide him, lets you wash your gaze over his features — lets you rake your eyes over every detail, even when his skin grows pink and you know he wants you to be looking anywhere else.

But you can’t help it. The rosy tint to his cheeks looks too warm, too inviting. His lips are just too pink, too bitten. And most of all, his eyes have become too deep, too capturing, especially when the usual gold in his brown has resolved to being just the thinnest ring, glinting and shimmering around absorbing black orbs.

“Your eyes are really dark right now,” you observe aloud. 

“Yeah?” He asks and you nod your head. You watch him as he lets his own gaze search your face. He swallows, coming to his own conclusion. “You just looked amused.”

You smile. You are amused but — “I’m not just amused.”

“No?” 

“I’m also really turned on.” You feel it in your belly, multitudes of warm winged flutters, sitting low, radiating heat throughout your whole body. You lean in closer, watching intently as his brows rise, moving to hide beneath his bangs as he processes your second confession of the evening.

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Want to know what I’m thinking about?”

He swallows thickly, and that golden ring in his eyes gets the faintest bit thinner.

“I do.”

You sit more comfortably, bringing your hands back to his chest and letting your bum press fully to his thighs. He lets out a near silent groan as your front sinks to his and when you adjust your hips, his hands dart to your sides, holding you tightly. 

“First,” you smile, batting your lashes at him. “I’m thinking about kissing you.” A soft swoon washes over Eddie's face, eyes turning soft for you. His eyes blink down to your lips, but you have more to say. “I’m also thinking about your balls in my mouth.”

The softness steps back, shock taking over. “Jesus christ,” he curses yet again, drawing out each syllable in a low groan. 

“And since I’ve been sitting here, I can’t help but think about how your cock would feel inside of me.”

“Fuck.” He meets your gaze, eyes rounding, jaw going slack. His chest begins to rise more rapidly, his breathing growing heavier. 

The feeling of him between your legs is undeniable now — he’s hard, very hard, uncomfortably hard. You let your hands slide up his chest, to his shoulders, letting your fingertips graze along the warm skin of his neck. He blinks heavily, eyelids growing weighted, swarming with evident lust. It makes you excited, makes you want more. 

You lower your voice to a breathy whisper, leaning in closer, letting your lips graze the shell of his ear.  “How’s the dirty talk, Eddie? Am I doing good?” You purr. His fingers pinch into the flesh at your sides as you shift once again, rolling your hips just enough to feel that hint of pleasure between your thighs. 

Eddie stifles his moan. “S– so good. You’re doing so g-good,” he stutters. His breath hitches as you press a kiss to the edge of his jaw, and then another, moving downwards to his neck. 

“What are you thinking about?” You pull away, looking at him through your lashes. You barely have a second to react before his hands are on your jaw, tugging you into him. 

It catches you off guard at first as his lips mash to yours. It’s entirely overzealous, bidding his earlier statement true by multiple definitions. It’s not terrible, but it is desperate. 

Flattening a heeding palm to his chest, you pull away just the slightest bit, letting your lips faintly graze his. 

“Slowly, Eddie.” you whisper. 

His interrupted desperation manifests as a quiet huff against your lips. Regardless of how hard he is beneath you, and how badly he wants to mash his mouth to yours, he nods, noses bumping together as he does.

This time you lean in. You guide the kiss, moving slowly, tenderly, and he follows your lead, moving gently, catching on quickly. Your upper lip presses between both of his and it's so delicate, so earnest, that it makes your heart thrum. It's exactly what you needed, and you reward Eddie with a quiet hum, letting your hands wrap behind his neck, pressing your chests together. 

His breath fans over your skin as he hums back, letting his hands glide to your lower back, hugging you closer. His lips massage yours, slowly, and he takes his time, letting you melt into him entirely. 

When you feel the pressure of his tongue licking across your lower lip your anticipation really sets in. You open your mouth, rolling your hips upwards as you move in closer to him. With a huffed, eager grunt, and with fingers kneading bruises into your skin, he licks into your mouth completely contradictory to it all, still giving you softness in the kiss. You’re elated by it all, swept up, enraptured by him being so sweet to you.

You sigh breathily as you have to pull away. 

“That was really good,” you fawn, dropping your head to rest against his shoulder. You let out another sigh, smiling contently to yourself. You’ve been wanting to do that for a long time — really too long, if you’re being honest. 

Eddie hums an agreement. You intend to go further than just a kiss, but you give yourself a moment to bask in it all. Just a moment, that’s all you need. 

And in the next moment, with your wits gathered, you wiggle your hips. Eddie’s palms press tightly against your back and he lets out a sharp gasp that melds into a whimper. You giggle a quiet apology. 

“Too much for you?” you tease.

“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head, his warm cheek pressing to yours. “M’just really hard right now.”

He is — you can feel it, and you can feel the mess growing between your own thighs. 

A simple solution; you hint at rolling your hips another time. It’s hardly any friction, just testing the waters. You’re surprised when Eddie pulls you inwards, guiding your hips, encouraging you to move. He lets out a low groan as the squish of your thighs pass over his length, one that you hardly register over your own gasp as you get your first real hint of pleasure.

With his help, you build a slow rhythm, grinding to the curve in his denim, one that has your eyes fluttering shut and Eddie tensing, letting out meak whimpers and low moans. It's nice, it really is, but as nice as it feels for you, you weave a hand between the two of you, suggestively placing it on the buckle of his belt.  

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Yes,” his voice comes out as a heaved breath. Very eager to continue.

“After you cum, how long does it take for you to get hard again?”

“Sh-shit — it depends. Sometimes —” he swallows thickly and you hear the gulp in his throat — “sometimes it’s barely a few minutes.”

“I want to try out what you taught me, but I want you to fuck me too.”

“We can — yeah we can do that.” His voice wavers as he bites back his excitement, trying to play it cool. Despite that, you feel the overzealousness in his pants, twitching with enthusiasm. 

You press a chaste kiss to his lips before scooting back on his legs, weaving your hands between the two of you to pop open his belt. Just as you unweave the leather and toss the heavy buckle to the side, holding the button under your thumb, Eddie’s hand meets your waist — not stopping you, just getting your attention. 

“Can I…” he starts. You look up at him, pausing your movement. He continues, “can I try what you told me too?” His eyes barely meet yours, growing bashful all over again. 

“Of course you can,” you say sincerely. You finish unbuttoning his pants, tugging the zipper down while leaning in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You don’t gotta be shy, Eddie. I like you already, a lot.” 

He nods, but you can still see a hint of cautiousness in his expression. 

“I’m serious, Eddie. I want you to be comfortable with me. Anything you need, anything you want, you can tell me.” 

He nods. His mouth mulls for a moment, but he nods a second time, assumedly coming to a conclusion. “Can we move up to the bed?” he asks. 

“I’d like that,” you smile and he smiles back.

Just as you lift your leg to get off him, you let out a surprised yelp as he does the bravest thing he’s done yet, both hands grabbing firmly at your bottom, tugging you into him and up as he pushes himself off the floor. He moves the both of you up to the edge of the bed with one strong flex of his legs and your stomach swirls with the rush of it all. 

From there, it's a giggling tussle of limbs, him pulling you up the bed, you pulling his pants off. Eventually, you both settle, him pantless, sitting with his back to the wall where his headboard should be, and you, by his side, knees pressing to his thigh. Your fingers wiggle with excitement as you take the thin cotton of his boxers, lacing them just under the waistband. 

You shimmy in your spot, shaking your hips, letting out a happy hum as you begin to pull them down. Your belly fills with good nerves, butterflies, and your mouth salivates. When you get them down as far as you can without his help, he silently chimes in, lifting his hips, hooking his own thumbs into the material. With a quiet humph, the fabric passes his length, freeing it to bob against his shirt-covered belly. 

Tempestuously red. Furiously flushed. Severely erect. Poor Eddie. Happy you. His tip is blushed to a deep crimson, glistening with the pearlescent sheen of precum. It has your body flushing hot everywhere — from your cheeks all the way south to where you grind yourself down onto the backs of your heels just to feel a pinch of salvation. 

Somewhere between where your ogling started and where you had to physically swallow the gathering saliva in your mouth, his boxers got discarded entirely, your own shirt disappearing along with them — because it is just so hot all of a sudden.  

If you weren’t completely blinded by your impeding tunnel vision, you would have seen the way Eddie gawked at your newly revealed skin, absorbing every inch, taking in every feature to your body. You would have seen the way his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and the fresh cherry red blush spread to his cheeks. You would have seen the way he had to forcefully peel his eyes away from your chest when he felt your fingers press into his bare thighs as you situated yourself between his legs. But you didn’t have a chance to notice all of those details, not when you felt the thrilling thrum of anticipation bubbling up in your bloodstream. 

“You ready, Eddie?” You ask, grinning at him. He blinks slowly at you, no answer, making your smile falter.

“You look pretty,” he blurts out, much to your delight. “Really pretty. All the time — not just now because you're about to — you’re just beautiful, s’what I want to say.”

“Thank you,” you say, pleasantly surprised. Eddie on the other hand, cringes at his own rambling, face scrunching in defeat. You like him even more for it — “I think you’re beautiful too, Eddie,” you smile. “And not just because I have your pretty cock in front of me.” 

Eddie huffs a soft laugh and you gleam, pleased with yourself. 

With actual consent, you take him in your hand. Gentle at first, easing him into your touch. Just barely grazing your thumb over the tip, you smear the slick precum around, before sinking your fist to his base. He lets out a tensed moan, exhaling — exhilarating. That quiet, throaty noise has you lighting up, already feening for more.

Leaning down further, arching your back, you gather your saliva in your mouth before letting it spill out in a single string over the tip of his needy head, falling down just to be caught by the upwards rise of your fist. This time he sucks in a sharp breath and you live for it. 

Closing the distance between your mouth and his cock, you lick the tip gently, pressing your tongue to the river of precum that sits in the curves of his slit, relishing in the saltiness that makes your mouth water effortlessly. You hum, feeling the pulse between your legs grow deeper, more intense. You push your hips back, angling them, searching for any sort of relief. 

While it doesn’t satiate the need between your thighs, Eddie notices your squirm, and brings a splayed palm to your side, letting it curve to your skin. It settles in, warming you, encouraging you to distract yourself in such a beautiful way by taking him into your mouth. 

You let your tongue swirl. Flick. Caress. Your lips graze before closing, and you suck. Cheeks hardly hollowing, the noise he lets out makes you want to keep being gentle — draw this out, make this last. 

But like a devil on your shoulder, you want to skip forward. You want his balls in your mouth, that’s the guise of this whole encounter, isn’t it? To practice what he’s taught you.

Jumping right to the chase, abandoning his desperately swollen cock, doesn’t strike you as the way to go about this, so you continue to be gentle. Pulling off the tip, kissing him up and down his length. Pressing your lips where needed and drawing circles and lovey hearts across his skin with the pointed angle of your tongue.

It's not fruitless. Every noise, every groan, every heavy breath, pleading whimper, fills you up. It fills you up until it has you leaning your body into his hand on your rib cage, needing to feel him wherever you can, while taking him fully into your mouth. Swallowing him down, deeply hollowing your cheeks, gliding your lips and flattening your tongue until your nose presses to the wispy patch of coarse hair at his base. 

“Fuck— fuck.” Eddie groans through a strangled breath. 

His hand leaves your ribs and you whimper at the loss, only to be reunited with the physical contact as he takes hold of your head with both of his hands, pulling you up. You whine, chest collapsing with defeat. You pout as soon as his cock leaves your mouth. Looking up at him, he looks worked up and frayed — all a shivered mess — but eyes sincerely apologetic as he catches your disappointment. 

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.” He pants heavily, catching his breath while you catch your own. Your pout lessens, and instead, your pride sets in. You did that to him. 

Wiping your gathered tears, you place a tentative hand on his length, watching him for any protests. His head knocks back into the hard wall, but he never loses sight of you, now looking down the angular slope of his nose, watching with amorous, lusting eyes. 

You dip down, reapproach, but this time you give into your own desire, indulging yourself.

Lifting his cock, you nose down his length. His eyes turn wide, but still, no protests.

“Can I put your balls in my mouth?” You ask, doing just as he told you to do, embellishing your simple sentence with pleading, fluttery lashes and persuasive, pinched together brows. 

His lips press into a purse as he swallows, and then they part with approval. “Yes,” he says. You watch as his tongue swipes along his plump bottom lip, and you can’t help but smile up at him. 

Appreciation sits on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t say it, you show it. Bowing your face low, you lick up the centre of his sack, flattening your slow moving tongue with an oath of sincerity — this makes you burn. For a moment, you believe that you’d be content if this was for you and you only, but then you meet his gaze, and you see the way he burns too.

His eyes devour you — your hand wrapped around his cock, thumb barely touching index, your chin settled deep between his thighs. You burn identically and it makes the swirl of butterflies in your stomach rise high, beating heavily in your chest. You get lost for a moment, but a thumb on your cheek, sweetly swiping softly against your skin, brings you right back.

“Pretty girl,” he hums. 

You tilt your head, nuzzling into his grip, humming a tender thank you. His thumb swipes again, just under your eye before settling behind your ear, sitting there with no intention but to be tethered to you.

It’s sweet, and you return the gesture, pressing two kisses, one to each side. You shift your focus, returning back to the moment.

Head still partially in the clouds, you do something daring without thinking, and you suck one of his balls into your mouth. Eddie lunges forward, bending at the waist, nearly folding in half as his stomach tenses harshly. He whimpers, and you pull back immediately.

“Sorry!” You shift, looking at his contorted expression. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

He quickly relaxes himself, patting your cheek as he settles, unclenching his thighs that had tightened at your sides.

“No — no.” He shakes his head, catching his breath “Do it again.” He gently guides you back down. “I was just distracted, caught me off guard,” he explains.

Distracted like you were. You understand, and you let him guide your face back down. 

This time you’re careful. With his eyes on you, you start again, licking, feeling the silky skin with your tongue as you gauge his reaction, peering up at him through your lashes. He nods, and you carefully take him into your mouth, letting your tongue roll cautiously along the velvet skin. 

You’re careful not to do too much, but you grow more confident when you see the way his mouth falls open with his own appreciation. 

“Fuck,” he exhales. “Just like that. Good girl,” he praises, groaning as you suckle delicately. His cock jumps in your loose fist, reminding you just how long it's been since you’ve paid it any attention. Tightening your grip, you run your fist up, then down languidly, multitasking in a way that has Eddie gaping, jaw slack, mouth parted wide, eyes owlish and filled to the brim with heated astonishment. 

With your mouth, you switch to his other side, doing the same, rolling your tongue exploringly, seeing what has his stomach tensing and noises pulling from his lungs. 

As you let your thumb run over his leaking head, he lets out a throaty groan. His thighs tense around you once more, but instead of backing away, you lean into it, embracing the new-found way to make him squirm. 

His breathing quickly becomes rapid as you take more of him into your mouth, sucking more confidently, and pulling away every now and again to press deserved kisses. Your fist moves quicker, focusing on the tip — purposeful, as you remember what he taught you. 

You suck, and glide your hand in smooth strokes, over and over, showing him just how much you like him. If he didn’t believe you before, he has to now. 

With a strong, devoted rhythm built, the skin against your tongue eventually begins to pull taut. He throbs in your hand. You know before he says anything, even before his hand can flex its grip on your cheek. You pull away, letting him fall from your mouth with a quiet pop. He lets out a worn sigh of relief as you sever the threads of spit from your mouth to his balls and shift, moving back to his wired-up cock, twitching at just the sensation of your breath on his over-flushed tip.

Rearranging yourself, you sink your fist, moving it low to his base, and then you adjust, moving your hand to cradle his balls in your palm. His stomach flexes and he lets out a pitiful whimper — he's so close, even while you're barely touching him.

“Please,” he rasps through a strained breath. 

You have nothing but appreciation for the man in front of you, reduced to pleading. You want nothing more than to satisfy him.

Gentle, a thing of the past. You take his cock in your mouth deeply. Swallowing his thickness down, taking him as far as he fits, pressing him to the very back of your throat. Your eyes water, and you breathe heavily through your nose, never once forgetting to massage him in your hand.

His chest heaves, and his fingers weave their way into the hairs at the base of your neck, tugging — communicating. His helpless moans draw out, getting longer and deeper, drawing out each and every flutter in your belly, adding to your fire. 

You can’t believe you’ve been sitting around, tutoring him, teaching him math when you could have been doing this. This is much better — much, much more fulfilling. 

You rise and fall, bobbing quickly, and he encourages you, helping you find the pace that brings him to his edge. He swells in your mouth, and draws upwards in your hand. You hum, encouraging him to let go.

“I’m gonna —” he tries to speak, but a rogue whine cuts him off. He sucks in a sharp breath — “I’m cumming, I’m —” Panic invades his voice as his grip in your hair turns harsh, pulling, stinging your scalp. You hum again, and then you feel the spill. 

The warmth of his cum invades the back of your throat, loading your senses with the distinctly musky taste and a bitter-flavoured swell of sweetness in your chest. Pleased, you swallow it down, and ask for more with the purse of your lips on his overworked tip. His hips buck up into you as you happily swallow everything you can, lapping it up with your appeasing tongue. 

His body relaxes until you don’t stop. Then he’s flexing again, sucking in harsh, gasp-like breaths, using his hands in your hair to guide you away from his over-sensitive cock. 

Both his palms cup your cheeks and you rise, straightening out your spine, walking your knees up the mattress to be closer to him. His hand falls to your knee, encouraging a bend, welcoming you back into his lap. You happily take a careful seat on his thighs. 

“Holy fucking shit,” Eddie gushes unapologetically. 

His body slouches into the mattress, but he continues to beakon you forward. You follow his weak, weary pull and he guides you to his lips, attaching his mouth to yours in a lazy kiss. His beholden tongue greets yours, unaffected by the lingering flavour of his seed that coats your lips and mixes with your spit. He devours it gratefully. 

“That was —” he starts, pulling away just to peck your lips again — “So, so— I don’t even have words.” His hand slides loosely across the expanse of your bare waist as he presses a frenzy of chaste kisses to your lips, making you giggle.

“I did good? I thought I hurt you for a minute.”

“No— shit, you did so good, baby.” Eddie hums, fondly pressing his cheek to yours as he hugs you closer.

You feel his praises blaze at something inside of you, thrumming through your bloodstream, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t highlight your own neediness, the one left abandoned between your thighs. 

Despite the restlessness that grows in your twitching hips, you try to relax, focusing on the sentimental feeling of the rise and fall of his chest, letting your body slink into his, fitting seamlessly against him until his breathing returns to a steady rate. You patiently wait for him to make the next move — especially after him letting you lead most of this evening. 

Just as you’ve let your eyes flutter shut, resting them for a peaceful moment, a kiss to your shoulder has your excitement kicking up in your lower belly, waking up those warm, winged creatures once again. He presses another kiss, and then another, following the slope of your shoulder. Down the curve, to your collarbone, high on your chest, kiss after kiss until his lips meet the plumpness of your breast that spills over the cups of your bra.

The swell of your breast, across, to the centre, his lips find your sternum, and you keen into it, unafraid of coming off as desperate. 

It’s barely anything, just innocent pecks, but it has you impatient, tilting your head back, curving your body to offer up more skin to him. He hums a warm tone, affectionately following the path of your sternum, nosing his way down your cleavage, sighing a deep, warm breath against your skin, adding a few extra heated degrees to your body temperature — you thank him with a breathy moan.

His hands move to your sides, tickling along your flesh, leaving goosebumped skin in their path as he traces along the band of your bra, fingertips gliding until they meet the clasp.

“Please,” you whisper, biting your lip as he finger paints small swirls along your spine. You push yourself closer, needing more.

And he gives you more. The band tightens around your ribs as he finds the edge, and you hold your breath.

One clip comes undone easily, granting you a hint of relief. Two follows, leaving just the third hook stuck standing between you and the promise of pleasure.

Then he stops — worse actually — he doesn’t just stop, he completely abandons the clasp on your bra as his head pops up, nearly clipping the edge of your jaw. He pulls you flush to his chest, tucking your head to his shoulder.

It surprises you, making your heart pound for an entirely different reason.

“What—” you begin, but his heedful palm spreads across the plain of your upper back, halting your question, making you pause. Unsure and curious, you turn your face, pushing against his grip on you, trying to see what’s wrong.

His face is contorted into a flat, focused look as his eyes fixate on the closed door of his room. You’re totally confused by what has pulled his attention, but then you hear a clatter from the living room of his trailer. You turn to look at Eddie. 

His eyes pinch shut with disappointment. “No,” he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder in defeat. 

“Is that —”

“My fucking uncle,” he mumbles into your skin.

“Oh,” you say quietly, trying to fight the unresolved neediness of your body from turning you into a slouching ball of disappointment.

“He's not supposed to be home yet,” he groans, and it comes out huffed, like he's annoyed, but you know it's not directed at you. Part of you is relieved to hear that upset edge in his voice, because you know how easy it would be for most boys to shrug it off when they already got what they needed.

His palm swipes across your back, rubbing it in a soothing way before he pulls away, finding your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. 

You shrug, it's not like this is his fault. “It’s okay,” you promise. 

“It’s not.”

You smile. “It is,” you say, delighted by his sincerity. “This just means we’ll have to pick up where we left off another day.”

“But you didn’t get to cum.”

True but — “I still had fun.”

He dips his face, chin bowing downward, bitten lips jetting out with his generous empathy. “I’m sorry,” he says again, and you giggle at his niceness. He might be more upset than you are, and you love it.

“Eddie, you know me,” you grin. “You said I did a good job, and there’s nothing better than the satisfaction of a job well done,” you beam, and you’re very pleased when you get a good chuckle from Eddie.

“Next time?” He proposes with a raised brow.

“Next time,” you agree.

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merci buckets hope you liked if you did make sure to hit! that subscribe button and leave a like down below (aka comment and reblog <33333)

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[xoxo-lixie]

Passenger Princess ᝰ.ᐟ

Paring- Hyunjin x Reader

Summary-Y/N embraces her role as Hyunjin’s passenger princess during a Saturday drive

It was a bright, sunny Saturday morning, and Y/N was in her usual spot in Hyunjin’s car: the passenger seat. The sleek black car glided down the street as Hyunjin navigated the light weekend traffic with ease. The windows were cracked open, letting in a cool breeze that played with the ends of her hair. She was stretched out comfortably, one leg tucked under her, a pink cup in the cupholder, and her phone in her hand, scrolling through her playlist.

Hyunjin, with his freshly buzzed haircut, looked effortlessly good as he drove. The short cut accentuated his sharp jawline and cheekbones, making him look even more striking than usual. His hand rested casually on the steering wheel, while the other occasionally tapped along to the beat of the music she’d put on.

“You’re really living the life, huh?” he said, glancing over at her with a teasing smile.

She glanced up from her phone and raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“You. Just sitting there, sipping your overpriced drink, doing nothing,” he said, smirking as he turned his attention back to the road. “Passenger princess at its finest.”

“Excuse me,” she said, feigning offense as she dramatically placed a hand on her chest. “I am not doing nothing. I’m curating the perfect driving playlist for you. That’s a very important job.”

Hyunjin chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, is that what you’re calling it?”

“Yes,” she said confidently, leaning back in her seat and taking a sip of her drink. “And you should be grateful. Not everyone gets a passenger princess as great as me.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me anyway,” she shot back with a smug smile, crossing her legs and settling deeper into her seat.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, but the fondness in his expression was unmistakable. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but his smile didn’t fade.

As they drove, Y/N fell into her usual routine of pointing out random things.

“Oh, look at that dog!” she exclaimed suddenly, leaning forward to point out a golden retriever sticking its head out of a passing car window.

Hyunjin glanced over and chuckled. “It’s cute. Want to trade places with it? Let the dog sit in the passenger seat instead?”

“Wow,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “After everything I do for you?”

“Everything? Like what?” he asked, side-eyeing her with a grin.

“Like keeping you entertained, feeding you snacks, and providing you with good music,” she replied, ticking off each point on her fingers.

“Oh, right. How could I forget?” he said sarcastically, shaking his head. “You’re truly indispensable.”

“Exactly,” she said proudly, popping a gummy into her mouth.

They drove in comfortable silence for a while, the playlist shifting to a softer, slower song. Y/N tilted her head to watch Hyunjin as he drove, admiring how the sunlight highlighted the smooth curve of his buzzed head and the sharp lines of his profile. His free hand rested on his thigh, and she had the sudden urge to grab it.

“You’re staring,” he said suddenly, his voice amused but his eyes still on the road.

“Maybe,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Can you blame me? You’re hot.”

Hyunjin let out a soft laugh, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. “Stop. You’re going to distract me.”

“Good,” she teased. “You deserve to be a little flustered.”

He glanced over at her briefly, his lips curving into a smirk. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” she said with a shrug, reaching over to grab his hand and lace her fingers with his.

Hyunjin gave her hand a squeeze, his smile softening. The car came to a stop at a red light, and before Y/N could say anything else, he leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. It was warm and soft, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

When he pulled back, Y/N blinked at him, her heart fluttering in her chest. “What was that for?” she asked, her voice softer now.

“Just felt like it,” he said, his smile widening as he turned back to the road. The light turned green, and the car started moving again.

Y/N leaned back in her seat, a goofy grin spreading across her face. “You’re such a sap sometimes,” she muttered, though her tone was laced with affection.

Hyunjin chuckled, keeping his eyes on the road. “And you love me anyway,” he echoed her earlier words, his voice playful.

“Yeah, I do,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper as she squeezed his hand.

The rest of the drive passed in comfortable silence, the kind that only existed between two people completely at ease with each other. Y/N sat back, fully embracing her role as his passenger princess, and Hyunjin drove with a content smile on his face, his hand still holding hers.

[strawberrykidneystone]

whole again

sevika x female reader

summary: sevika didn’t feel whole without her arm and it bubbles up when jinx gifts her a new one.

a/n: i need the rest of season 2 rn RAHHHH

tags: insecurity of lost limb, angst/comfort, fluff, married!wife!reader, kissing

ao3 version

thank you for the request anon!!!

sevika wasn't expecting to fight with smeech today, but she also wasn't expecting to see jinx in silco's office either. one thing she could always expect was her wife waiting for her at home, the only thing driving her to keep walking instead of collapsing from exhaustion in the middle of the street.

after sevika slumped through your shared house's front door, you were quick to guide her to a chair in your kitchen to take care of her as you usually did when she came home from any sort of fight she was injured in while she was on duty. thankfully, she didn't have any injuries this time, but she did have bright green disgusting goo all over her body. god it was going to take forever to scrub out of her clothes.

wiping sevika’s face off with a warm rag to get the disgusting green goo off of her beautiful face, she looked so peaceful having her beautiful wife take care of her. following her fight with smeech, she came straight home after dropping jinx and isha off at a safe house, eager to get home to you. you didn’t care to ask if the goo was residue from her new arm or smeech, either way, you knew that you wouldn’t like the answer.

she recounted all the details of the fight, a soft fondness in her voice when talking about the two younger girls that she would deny if you pointed it out. she smiled up at you as she continued talking, the adorable gap between her teeth showing as she finished her story.

now that she had her girl with her and a new arm, what more could a woman need?

after her face was completely clean of the sticky green substance, you smothered her face in kisses with a loud ‘mwah’ after each one. her face scrunched up initially in slight annoyance, but she couldn’t help the chuckle bubbling from her chest after the first few. glancing her body over, you nodded to yourself as you saw no external injuries or damage to her clothing. while you were distracted, she wrapped her flesh arm around your waist and pulled you onto her lap with your legs hanging off of her thighs, a surprised squeal leaving your lips.

curiously, you inspected her new arm with a grin, it definitely had jinx’s handiwork all over it.

“like my new arm baby?” she inquired with a half smirk as she bent it in half for you to admire, the dinosaur-like head of the arm proudly sticking in the air.

“well it’s was very obviously made by jinx i’ll give her that much, but i like the speakers,” you said truthfully as you ran your fingers down her arm, careful not to set anything off my accident. the head of the arm reminded you of jinx’s bombs and you had to resist the urge to pull the level on her shoulder. it was truly an impressive weapon to say the least, although it definitely didn't match the usual muted tones that your wife wore.

she groaned and rolled her eyes, dragging her flesh hand down her face in clear annoyance, “did i mention that fireworks went off when the bastard died?”

you gawked and sputtered out a laugh, “no you didn’t! that’s so cool!”

she hummed a sarcastic 'uh huh' and kissed the side of your head, “i’ll probably have her tone it down at some point, but at least i’m all me again.”

you furrowed your brows and looked at her with slight concern, “whatddya mean?”

she shrugged and slumped back in her chair, her stare suddenly a million miles away. “i mean i wasn’t really complete without my arm, it’s the strongest part of me, and without it after silco dying… i didn’t really feel like me,” she admitted with her voice getting smaller and smaller, a lump forming in her throat. she licked her lips to try and satiate the sudden dryness in her mouth with little success, a nervous forming pit in her stomach at her sudden confession. she knew that you wouldn't judge her for admitting her feelings, but it still felt strange to admit them out loud to someone who actually gave a shit to what she was feeling.

you cupped her cheeks and brought her focus back to you, her eyes finding yours overflowing with an openness in emotion that was usually guarded behind steel walls. keeping one hand on her cheek, you petted her hair with the other. she leaned her head into your hand and closed her eyes, slightly trembling in your hold.

you took a deep breath and continued petting her hair as you spoke to her reassuringly, “sevika, you are so much more than your arm, hell, you’re so much more than silco’s number two. sure, he was the main hedge but who was out there making his deals? cleaning his messes? plus, you were kicking ass even before you had that mechanical arm. you could take on all of the undercity with just one arm and come out with barely a scrape on the other side. you are the woman i fell in love with, the beautiful, handsome, headstrong, competitive knucklehead that i would choose to be with even if you had no limbs.”

sevika snorted and you noticed that her eyes were slightly glazed over with tears that she held back. she sighed softly and quietly lamented in a strained voice, “what did i do to deserve you?”

you smiled fondly at her and kissed the tip of her nose, “i could ask you the exact same thing.”

she leaned forward into you and kissed your lips which such care that it would make anyone forget that she was a seasoned killer. desperately pushing into you, she had you leaning back with an iron grip around your waist with her flesh arm. you quickly threw your arms around her neck and pulled her as tight to your body as you could. a squeak followed immediately by giggles fell from your lips as you almost fell over backward, sevika catching you in time to straighten you both back up. she genuinely smiled and leaned her forehead against yours, “i love you.”

“i love you too sevika," you replied lovingly, nuzzling the tip of your nose with hers. she surprisingly returned the gesture with a light blush dusting her cheeks.

you pulled back and grinned at her, a hint of mischief in your eye. "well, at least ask jinx to add on a hand function," you said teasingly, but with a genuine undertone.

sevika chuckled and shook her head, grinning down at you with a cocked eyebrow, “what, did you miss my hands that much?”

you puffed out your cheeks and huffed, “i just miss standing on the left side of you sometimes.”

that made her genuinely laugh from the bottom of her stomach, teasingly tickling your sides with her hand which made you wriggle in her lap with laughter. you’d clean up as much goo off of her as she needed just to hear that laugh every day.

she brought your hand up to her lips and kissed the wedding band stacked ontop of your engagement ring on your finger. she softly kissed the inside of your palm and closed your fingers around it, a silent promise.

“i’ll ask just for you,” she cooed and pecked your lips, giving your hip an affectionate squeeze.

“good,” you smiled and grabbed her hand in yours. you giggled as you led her up to your shared room with her hot on your heels, following you up the stairs like an eager puppy.

maybe you can find some other fun uses for her new arm.

[perfectlyoongi]

JEALOUS!YOONGI who doesn’t understand why he has a heavy heart when you say you’re going out with someone else. if there was someone who supported you and encouraged you to see the world, it was Yoongi. he was always ready to receive your news with a wide smile and your stories with a sparkle in his eyes; but when you talked about another person, someone else who made you laugh and shared pleasant memories with you, Yoongi felt a bitter taste in his heart. would Yoongi be sad that he didn’t take you on that trip? would Yoongi be disappointed in himself for not taking you to that restaurant for the first time? what spells did your words cast to cover his heart with a thorny cloak of pure discomfort? “i hope you have fun. but… if you see something is wrong or you don’t feel comfortable, don't hesitate to call. i will get you as soon as possible and i promise to make your time worth it.”

JEALOUS!YOONGI who can’t control his face when he sees someone flirting with you. at parties or meetings, on walks or dinners, every time someone tried to be more flirty to get your attention, Yoongi just looked at them. his eyes lost the shine they gained since the day he met you; his lips were pressed into a straight line in an attempt to control his sarcastic smile; his hands closed into two perfect fists for him to divert all his disdain into his hands; and his mind just repeated the same questions over and over again so they stay stuck in his heart instead of confessing them to you. “have you ever noticed that only men with mommy issues decide to talk to you? have you ever noticed how desperate they are of getting your attention? why couldn’t you pay attention to me instead? i would make you laugh. i would make your night perfect. so why do you prefer those children instead of me?”

JEALOUS!YOONGI who spends the entire car ride in silence. when the end of the day arrived and he was getting ready to leave you at home, Yoongi couldn’t think of a single word to address you. maybe if he went back to yesterday when he still had universes to confess to you he could think of something to tell you; but the reality is that Yoongi only thought about your giggles, your smiles, your eyes so beautiful and bright, your words so delicate and pleasant — all focused on the others. what did they have that Yoongi didn’t? what words did they say that Yoongi couldn’t repeat? no. that Yoongi couldn’t improve, mold them perfectly for your heart to take comfort in them and realize that in reality you only needed Yoongi to make you truly happy.

JEALOUS!YOONGI who remembers all the names and details of your friends. John was so tall you had to gently tilt your head to look him in the eyes — how cute. Chan had fingers so long that your hands touched when he gave you the glass — he wanted that too. Luke made you laugh so hard that you had to cover your mouth with your hand and look around in embarrassment — what a melody. Seok managed to tell such a good story that you just kept asking for more and questioning everything — he wanted that too. Jun convinced you to take a photo with him and you even leaned against his chest — how beautiful. and Yoongi just saw you, just heard you, just admired you, without any courage to make all those details his own. “yes, yes, i remember Choi. wasn’t he the one who greeted you with a hug? and then spilled his drink on you, but those are details. who pays attention to them, am i right?”

JEALOUS!YOONGI who denies with all his strength that he is jealous. why would Yoongi be jealous if you, firstly, were just his friend?, and secondly, he just wanted to see you happy? Yoongi wouldn’t stop your happiness, and, even if it meant you talking to someone who made him uncomfortable, he would just support you and help you find your way. of course he preferred to see you laughing at his jokes and blushing when you accidentally touched his hands. of course he would prefer you to tell him everything about your day and invite him on spontaneous dates. but what do you mean he was jealous? don’t be ridiculous. “do you really think that? please! i’m just looking out for you. you deserve better than them — you are better than them! don’t be silly. go hang out with him and leave me alone.”

JEALOUS!YOONGI who says you are a free person to live your life. if you want to sleep at someone else’s house, feel free to do it! if you want to try the new coffee with that one, go ahead! why should Yoongi stop you from living your life? you are the one who knows what you want, and who you want it with. Yoongi had no vote on the matter. go! go to the park with this guy and leave Yoongi at home! why not, right? after all he will always be there waiting for you. so go! live your life without thinking about him. go! “just go. but if you want to come back, if you feel like it was all a mistake, you can always come to me. always.”

JEALOUS!YOONGI who doesn’t know why he shut you up with a kiss, he just felt it was necessary. shut up. shut up. shut up. why do you always have this need to tell everything in detail? why do you think Yoongi wanted to know how your date went? yes, he already understood. he’s very funny ah ah ah. okay, now that’s enough. stop. please. shut up. shut up. shu—! “i… i don’t know what came over me. sorry. you just... you just talked and talked and wouldn’t shut up and i... i wanted you to shut up. and… and i…”

[madaqueue]

Good Boy

pairing: ryomen sukuna x f!reader

themes/content: sub boyfriend sukuna, soft dom reader. language, smut. bondage, handjob, light choking, praise, pet names (baby, sweetheart), mentions of degradation. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.5k

a/n: subby sukuna that's it send tweet

“Y’know I’m only doing this for you, right?” Sukuna huffs.

“I know,” you smile from behind him.

Leaning back, you admire your work: the pink rope tied around his wrists holds his arms in place behind his back, with matching ones stationing him on his knees, feet tucked beneath his thighs. His cock stands fully erect, a drop of precum beginning to form along his slit before you’ve even truly begun.

The sight of him makes your heart flutter. “You look so pretty, ‘Kuna,” you purr, sitting up to place a kiss on his cheek.

His skin is warm under your lips, flushing a slight red. “Aw, are you blushing?” you tease gently.

“No,” he scoffs, turning his head away from you. “Just get on with it already, woman.” “Gimme a second sweetheart, I gotta get you warmed up first,” you hum as your eyes cover his form.

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips at just how innocent your boyfriend looks. It’s funny, almost, the way his muscles poke through the knots, tattoos coursing over his rough skin that’s now covered in a dainty pink. Everything about him looks so sweet, so soft, so submissive.

Normally he was the dominant one, demanding power and control in every aspect of his life, and sex was no different. Of course he treated you with care, but sometimes he showed it by fucking you harshly, ravenously, leaving proof of his love across your body in the form of scratches and bruises, a physical manifestation of his unadulterated adoration for you.

In fact, these ropes had originally been bought after a night when the skin of your neck was covered in teeth marks and hickeys from an hour of him teasing you. When you felt him nip at your chest, you couldn’t help squirming in his grasp.

“If you don’t sit still I’m gonna have to tie you down,” he muttered, moving lower to place his mouth around your hardened nipple, sucking on it between his teeth.

Unfortunately his words had the opposite effect, making you writhe even more against his thigh from where he held you in his lap.

“Oh, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he chuckled at your reaction. “Pathetic little sluts like you need to be tied up to behave.”

He bought them the next day.

But, in the mix of all the other toys and gadgets you two rotated through, they had been tossed to the back of the closet and forgotten, unused, until now.

The idea popped into your mind a few days ago while you were scrolling on your phone and a video suddenly caught your eye: in the middle of a bed was a man with his arms and legs bound as a woman moved around him. She treated him softly but firmly, her fingers trailing over his body. You felt your heart rate pick up at the sight, warmth beginning to pool in your stomach as you watched. Seeing the trust, the control, between them sparked something in you.

Unsurprisingly, Sukuna was completely opposed to the idea when you brought it up.

“I’m not some fucking piece of meat to be tied up and toyed with,” he grumbled from the couch.

“Oh, but when you wanted to do it with me it’s fine?” you questioned sarcastically.

Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, he rolled his eyes. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Please, ‘Kuna? Just once?” you begged, using the nickname you knew pulled at his heartstrings, the one that always made him give in to your desires.

After a moment of silence, he sighed. “Fine,” he conceded, “just once.”

Although he’d never admit it, the idea made his head spin, his cock beginning to strain at his pants just from hearing you say the words. After all, he’s not the type who does something just for the sake of pleasing others; when he agreed, you both implicitly knew there was a part of him that was curious, too.

As he’s perched on the bed in front of you, he finally gets to have his interest satiated.

Returning your mind to the present you settle in behind him, resting your head on his shoulder as your lips trail down his neck. The soft sensation of your breath tickles his skin, making him shiver despite the heat his body gives off.

Making your way down his arms, you trace the lines of his tattoos before following the pattern down his chest. Reaching his thighs, your thumbs draw gentle circles into his muscles.

“Are you gonna fuckin’ touch me or what?” he growls, moving his hips to try and coax you closer to his aching cock.

You hush him, lips still pressed into the space above his collarbone. “Patience, baby.”

He shuts his mouth momentarily at the nickname. Even though he would always deny it, some part of him cherishes the sweet things you call him, holding onto every ounce of praise or affirmation that leaves your lips.

The honeyed whispers, the airy complements, make his heart flutter and gaze soften. He relaxes slightly, dropping his shoulders through a displeased grunt.

Your palms travel his body, moving up his thighs before traveling to his back, trailing kisses along his spine. He shudders at the softness of your lips, the warmth of your hands, as you cover every inch of him, his skin left tingling wherever you touch.

Right now, the key to getting him into the right headspace is to be gentle, loving, the exact opposite of how Sukuna normally is.

Knowing how impatient he gets, you are languid and methodical as you trace the ropes between your fingers. When you reach the ones tied over his wrists, he shifts again, tugging against the restraints.

“Y’know I could break out of this if I wanted to.”

“I know,” you hum, “but you won’t. Because you’re gonna be good for me, right?”

He pauses - he doesn’t want to demean his own strength, but internally he battles the desire to agree with you. He needs you to know that he’s better than this, obviously, but there’s a part of him, buried deep down, that needs to make you happy.

“Good boys use their words,” you prod in his silence.

He takes in an uneven breath as he fights a losing mental battle.

“I’ll…I’ll be good,” he mutters, gaze shifting down to avoid letting you see how dizzy the words make him feel.

Smiling, you place another kiss to his cheek, the action sending sparks through his body.

Your fingertips continue covering the rest of his skin, one moving down his legs as the other runs up his stomach, following the grooves of his abs. When you reach the front of his neck your hand loosely wraps around it, applying a gentle pressure to either side of his carotid.

Before this you had never dared to choke him, and even though this could barely be classified as such, something about it drives him insane. He feels immediately lightheaded, despite knowing that you didn’t hold on for nearly long enough to physically have that effect.

No, it was something else.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” he spits, trying to cover the moan that threatens to escape his throat.

His words nearly get a rise out of you, but knowing that’s his intention, you calm your breathing before you respond.

“Watch your language, sweetheart,” you scold softly, “you wouldn’t want me to have to gag you, now would you?”

The idea makes his heart race in panic. Thinking about being gagged doesn’t worry him, he realizes - no, the dread in his stomach is there for a different reason. Is he afraid of disappointing you?

Letting out an unsteady sigh, he shakes his head no. “M’sorry,” he mumbles.

You hold back a grin at his words, your heart beginning to race in excitement. Sukuna has never, ever, said sorry for something like this before.

It was rare that he needed to apologize for things, both of you knowing and respecting each other’s limits well. However, on the few occasions when he did something like leaving hickeys in more visible places than you liked, he would just brush it off with a laugh. “You didn’t really expect me to hold back when your cunt is that good, did you?” he’d tease with a smack of your ass.

Hearing him now, you can tell something in him has switched.

“That’s my good boy,” you coo, placing another kiss to his neck.

Hearing the name, a sound shockingly close to a deep whimper leaves his lips.

Your touch is so light, your lips so soft, your words so sweet, he wants to just melt, giving everything into you. Something about being physically held in place like this makes him feel safe, dependent; despite the tight ropes against his skin the only thing he can feel is you.

His head is spinning, thoughts getting fuzzy as you trace over his body, your gentle touch igniting flames of desire beneath his skin.

As you continue drawing your fingertips along him, the teasing slowly becomes too much, his mind clouded with the need for more as you feed him soft praises. His hips buck off the bed, his cock straining against the ties as precum begins to roll down his length.

“Please just fucking touch me,” he groans, voice so low it’s nearly a whisper.

“Just one second, baby,” you purr, trying to keep him calm.

Sukuna has always been demanding, wanting things done his way exactly when he wants it. As such, you know you have to be careful, balancing his desires with your control, placating his needs with tenderness.

A smirk crosses your face as you think up a way to satisfy both.

Holding your hand out in front of his mouth, you open your palm. “Spit,” you softly command.

His eyes widen, barely even noticeably, as he processes your words. There is absolutely no fucking way he’s about to do this, and the fact that you would even consider making him is foolish. He wants to laugh at the absurdity of your request, but before he can, he’s leaning forward, body moving on its own as he parts his lips, allowing droplets of saliva to pool into your hand.

What the fuck happened to him?

Pleased at his compliance, you smile. “Good boy, Sukuna.”

Your words make him nearly shake in anticipation, his mind dazed as your hand finds its way to his cock. Using the mixture of spit and precum you stroke his length, thumb twirling his flushed tip.

Another guttural groan leaves his throat as his eyes flutter shut, leaning his head back against you. He should be embarrassed, ashamed of how absolutely pathetic he’s being, but all he can think about is how good your hand feels wrapped around him.

Grasping at any last shred of control, he weakly thrusts up into you, his movements limited by the restraints

Bringing your free hand over to his hips, you hold him in place. “Stay still for me, okay baby?” you hum.

Letting go of everything, he gives in. His motions still as you continue stroking him, his mouth hanging open as he takes in uneven breaths.

Normally when he’s fucking you his thoughts are hurried, almost frenzied, as he plans how he’s going to ravage you. He taunts you, making you beg, soaking in every sound you release as he drills into you.

But now, his mind is quiet. The only thing he can focus on is the sound of your voice, your words of praise echoing through his entire body, amplifying his desire to please you, his need to be good for you.

Continuing your motions, the wet sound of your hand sliding up and down him fills your bedroom, his cock twitching in your palm as you glide over his length. From the way his chest begins to heave with each breath you can tell he’s approaching his release, his eyes screwed tightly shut in pleasure.

“Are you close, ‘Kuna?” you ask, head still resting on his shoulder from where you sit behind him.

He nods, a soft “Mhm” vibrating in his throat.

“Remember what I said? Good boys use their words,” you remind him.

“I-I’m gonna-”

You cut him off. “Good boys also ask permission.”

His breath hitches for a moment. He never begs. Never. It was always you, asking him to let you finish one more time, or pleading with him to soften up as he overstimulates you. He loved the way you’d get all whiney for him, but it was something he viewed as inherently beneath him.

But right now, he doesn’t fucking care.

“Let me cum,” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly.

“Say please.”

Fuck, is he really about to do this? Is he seriously this fucking pathetic?

“Please,” he whispers.

You can’t stop yourself from grinning, giddy at just how eager he’s become, how malleable he is under your touch.

“Go ahead, baby,” you murmur, pressing your lips against his neck.

Picking up your pace, your grip tightens ever so slightly around his cock as you reach his tip, a shiver racking his body as your other hand moves to gently massage his balls.

“Open your eyes for me, sweetheart,” you purr into his ear, breath hot against his skin. “I want you to see what a mess you’re about to make.”

Without a second of hesitation he complies, his gaze struggling to focus on his lap as he tilts his head down. His eyes are glassy, far away, as he moves, mouth still hanging open.

You both watch in awe as thick ropes shoot from his tip, coating his thighs in the sticky whiteness.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good f’me,” you coo, droplets of cum slowly pouring down his length as you coax him through his ecstasy.

He’s silent as he finishes, no words able to form in his head, too dizzy from pleasure to think. His blown pupils can only observe as your hand slows, lazily following your movements as you pull your cum-coated fingers to his mouth.

The moment he feels you on his lips he opens them further, allowing you to slide your digits in, too dazed in bliss to argue.

“There you go, doin’ s’good,” you murmur as he sucks himself off of them, his eyes fluttering closed.

Holding him against the warmth of your bare chest, his body begins to tremble as he comes down from his high, suddenly feeling the tightness of the restraints against his skin. Leaning up you pull your fingers from his mouth, gently placing a peck on his cheek as you get to work untying him

“You did so good, ‘Kuna,” you hum as you remove the ropes from his legs and wrists, kissing the indents left behind on his skin.

As soon as he’s free he wraps his arms around you, his body hot as he pulls you into his lap. He shoves his face into the crook of your neck, holding you still for a moment.

“You better not fucking tell anyone about this,” he mutters into you.

“Of course not,” you whisper, reaching a hand up to gently stroke the back of his hair. “Now, let me take care of my good boy and get you all cleaned up, okay?” you follow, peppering his face with kisses as he holds back a lazy grin.

[cuttleimagines]

𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚒𝚗 𝚂𝚒𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 - 𝚂𝙵𝚆 & 𝙽𝚂/𝙵𝚆 𝙰𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝

𝙰 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝙳𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚍!!

Warnings: 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚗𝚘 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢/𝚗, 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚞𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚗𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚊𝚟 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚊. 𝚁𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛, 𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙳𝙽𝙸 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝙽𝚂/𝙵𝚆 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚝.

𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝, 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚡! 🌟 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸'𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗!

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Strange Brew - Cream was playing while writing this and goddamn-

SFW ALPHABET:

A = Affection (How affectionate are they?)

⨳⊹ Halsin is as affectionate as they come.

⨳⊹ He gets such a goofy grin on his face whenever you request PDA from him. He loves to give you gentle reminders of his presence, like a hand on your hip or the small on your back, or just small kisses to your temple in passing.

⨳⊹ Whenever you're talking to someone giving you a new mission or quest, you'll feel Halsin's fingers twirling around a strand or two of your hair absentmindedly, silently giving you comfort if the situation is serious.

⨳⊹ At a campfire surrounded by the other companions, he likes to always have a hand on you.

⨳⊹ Not out of possession, just because he likes the physical reminder that he has the opportunity to love you, and gets to act on his desires and admiration for you.

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

⨳⊹ I can see Halsin making friends with people outside of professional settings.

⨳⊹ Whenever he's joined with someone in battle, camping with them, or just getting to know them without the stress of keeping image as an archdruid, as a leader, he becomes a lot more relaxed.

⨳⊹ Halsin is funny as a best friend. Especially if he's drunk. People always see him as this wise archdruid who is constantly in tune with nature and serious about leadership, but he's honestly just a guy.

⨳⊹ We've seen Halsin's admittance of how truly off the walls he can get with a bit too much to drink.

⨳⊹ I can see him sitting you down, hand on your shoulder, crying about how much gratitude he holds for you being in his life, and chugging mead a few minutes later, being the life of the party.

⨳⊹ He'd give passing comments whenever you fight weirdos or sarcastic mockings of people he hates, solely to make you laugh.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

⨳⊹ Halsin's thrilled to cuddle!

⨳⊹ Having you in his lap at the campfire is a drug to him.

⨳⊹ Likes to wrap his arms around the curve of your waist and tug you closer to his chest with a content smile on his lips.

⨳⊹ In bed, he loves the comfort of your weight against his, loves the way your stomach moves with every breath and loves the way it feels against him.

⨳⊹ He'll hold you right on top of him in The Pancake Plank position so the side of your head is nestled right on his collarbone for easy access to kiss your forehead.

⨳⊹ Though, of course, he's never against just touching you while you walk through your adventures, his hand nestling on your hip, admiring nature's bounty around him, and beside him.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

⨳⊹ Like Halsin's said previously, he likes to roam where his heart takes him, and his heart doesn't often stir lightly.

⨳⊹ However, I don't think he'd be against it if it's the right person and right time. Bears don't mate for life, but he'd be a fool to give up a life with someone so important to him.

⨳⊹ You might need to give him time to decide if this is a safe space for his heart to reside before he completely commits to you and solely you.

⨳⊹ Halsin, I believe, likes order and organization. Having a messy home would peeve him a bit. Probably less than the other companions, but he'd definitely prefer a clean home than a messy one where he doesn't know where anything is. Therefore, he's a decent cleaner.

⨳⊹ In terms of cooking, he'll always prefer yours. It always tastes better when it's made by someone he adores so deeply. He's always willing to learn, though! He's also more than willing to cook you some soup or other food whenever you're sick or he wants to take care of you.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

⨳⊹ He's very, very upset and it's the LAST thing he wants to do. Whether it's because he's being treated unfairly or if he believes it's the best for the both of you.

⨳⊹ I can see him constantly thinking back to the benefits of being with you, so he'd prolong ending things with you as far as he can before he genuinely can't handle it anymore.

⨳⊹ Though, if it's not during an intense argument, he's very gentle with you. Holding your hands with a pleading look in his eye for you to forgive him and stay in his life even if you're not lovers anymore.

⨳⊹ He remains professional and formal through the whole thing even if he doesn't try to be.

⨳⊹ If you break up with him, he's accepting about it, way quicker than the brain power it takes to break up with you. He's upset but doesn't want to make you feel like you need to comfort him.

⨳⊹ He's very like "wherever you need me :)" and just wants to be there for you always, obviously as long as the breakup isn't messy or anything.

F = Fiancé (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

⨳⊹ Like I said in domestic, Halsin and commitment don't really belong in the same sentence, unless it's a situation similar to him and Tav where they're all he wants in that moment, and it's a right person right time type of thing.

⨳⊹ I don't really think he's one for marriage, doesn't like to feel like he's tied down. That would drive him crazy.

⨳⊹ After years of being together, you don't need the paperwork to prove your bond. You're as close as can be. You don't need rings to feel connected.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

⨳⊹ Halsin's such a gentle giant.

⨳⊹ Any fight you have, it's very rare that he raises his voice at you. He doesn't see that as helpful.

⨳⊹ Do keep in mind he has the ability, but there's no easy way to make him upset enough to be harsh with you.

⨳⊹ His touch is very gentle as well, he holds you like you could break unless you expressly tell him you can handle it.

⨳⊹He just doesn't want to hurt you so he likes to take precaution.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

⨳⊹ WARM.

⨳⊹ This man is a fucking heater.

⨳⊹ He loves hugs, and puts everything he has into them.

⨳⊹ Don't do that shit where you only hug with your chest and your butts are from heaven to hell. Hug with everything you have.

⨳⊹ His fingers gently massage your scalp, pressing gentle kisses to your jawline whenever you lean into his touch. He loves that.

⨳⊹ His favorite hugs are after he hasn't seen you for a while, and he gets to pick you up, spin you around, and make you laugh.

⨳⊹ He also loves hugs when you both wake up for the day, and he gets to feel your warm skin against his after the chill of night.

I = I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)

⨳⊹ Does Halsin even say the words "I love you" in-game??? I can't remember from playing his romance and I can't find anything online

⨳⊹ Based off of this information, I'm just going to say he finds SO many words to display his affection for you besides "I love you". Love doesn't do his feelings for you justice. They're so much deeper than that.

⨳⊹ I genuinely think he wouldn't notice if he hasn't said it, though 😭

⨳⊹ Like if you bring it up to him he'd just be like "Oh! I haven't??? Well, I do, if that wasn't obvious to you." 💀

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

⨳⊹ In terms of romance??? Little to no jealousy there.

⨳⊹ This man is the opposite of selfish. He loves the idea of getting to share with the world JUST what it's like to be loved by you. He ENCOURAGES that. He knows how hot you are.

⨳⊹ The only way I can see him getting jealous is if you aren't spreading your affections equally with him.

⨳⊹ His lip will twitch a little and might get more distant but it's just because he doesn't want to be that way with you looking at him. I can see him being embarrassed by his behavior if that happens.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

⨳⊹ He's got thinner lips. Do NOT mistake this for mans not having kiss game.

⨳⊹ Kisses with him are very fluid, and he likes to move his lips against yours. His hands are constantly moving, trying to commit every inch of your body to memory. Though, his favorite place to hold you is the back of your head, pushing you deeper into him.

⨳⊹ This man CANNOT stop kissing your neck. He is so unapologetic about it. Are you sensitive there? Too bad. Say no to him and he gets that sad puppy look in his eye.

⨳⊹ Your nape, your collarbone, right on your pulse-point. He loves kissing you there in passing, or when you're laying beside him in bed.

⨳⊹ His favorite spot to be kissed is his stomach. He loves watching you kiss him there, and wants your eyes locked with his as you press your soft lips against his skin. The skin around his waist is a bit tingly so give him small nibbles if you want to stir some belly-laughs from him.

L = Little Ones (How are they around children?)

⨳⊹ This man isn't called Daddy Halsin for no reason‼️ C'mon now!!

⨳⊹ Halsin's great around kids. He's gotten to that height where kids just wanna climb his arms like a jungle-gym 24/7 and he's always gonna humor it to hear those cute baby giggles.

⨳⊹ Every kid wants a grizzly bear best friend and if you disagree you're lying to yourself.

⨳⊹ You ever see that clip in the jungle book (remake or original) where Mowgli is riding on top of Baloo's belly while he floats down the river during Bear Necessities? I wanted to do that so BAD

⨳⊹ Halsin's constantly in wild shape and letting little ones pet his fur and ride on top of his back, snuggling into the warmth of his fuzz.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

⨳⊹ Halsin is very, very much a morning person.

⨳⊹ He's going to get up early, likely when the sun is barely peaking over the horizon and the dimness of the dawn is barely showing over the tops of your curtains.

⨳⊹ He likes to go on long morning walks.

⨳⊹ You hate it but he'll leave without a word and just go out while leaving you asleep in bed, in his wild shape, walking wherever the warmth of sun takes him.

⨳⊹ Long story short, you wake up alone most days. Though, he does try to get home around the time you naturally wake up, he can't quite predict it consistently.

⨳⊹ He makes some banging apology breakfast, though. Those eggs and cinnamon toast hit fucking different.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

⨳⊹ His nights are very romantic. He likes to spend time with you at night, given he's a very active guy and likes to be out and about while the sun's up.

⨳⊹ You're getting cuddles, massages, and god he's a goner if you offer to give him one in return.

⨳⊹ He likes bathing with you, getting to feel the warm water soothing his skin while talking to you about your day, offering you advice for any tribulations you may have.

⨳⊹ He's overall very touchy during the night, dinner's full of jokes and laughs and loving looks. Very corny but he wouldn't trade it for the world.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things?)

⨳⊹ A normal pace, I'd say. You'd definitely need to earn his trust too, but he'll be honest if you have a question about him. He's not gonna pull an Astarion or a Gale if you ask him a direct question.

⨳⊹ Also Shadowheart but let's not speak about our party's trust issues, yes?

⨳⊹ When you're official, he's an open book. At that point, he most definitely doesn't have much reason to hide things from you, so overall, he's fairly open with his past and who he is.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

⨳⊹ Halsin has the ability to get angry, we've seen that. But honestly that's only been when somebody hurts the innocent or nature.

⨳⊹ Take Kagha for instance. Because I totally didn't have that scene where he yells at her on repeat wym--

⨳⊹ But even then as long as you don't fail the ability checks and manage to save Arabella, he's generally pretty calm and waits to hear her side and explanation before giving her more druidic teachings, letting her off easier than most would expect.

⨳⊹ He's a rather forgiving person, as long as you don't take advantage of that. Then yeah, he'll get peeved, and you'll probably need to give him some space so he doesn't raise his voice at you.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

⨳⊹ He's actually pretty on point!

⨳⊹ He's not gonna remember the exact color shirt you wore when you first met or anything like that unless it was important to the memory, but he's actually quite spectacular when it comes to your family members' names and your allergies/food and drink preferences.

⨳⊹ Some tiny facts he keeps in his mind are your favorite types of flower and fauna. If you see a plant you think is pretty, he'll get you some for your birthday, for an anniversary, or whenever he comes home from travels and brings you back one he spotted on the road.

⨳⊹ If you tell him your favorite tree he'll find a way to bring you to one in a clearing to have a picnic under, or a sapling so you can plant one together.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

⨳⊹ Getting caught in the rain with you, hurrying to get you under a roof and warmth so you don't stay wet and cold for too long and get sick

⨳⊹ You ended up being in the rain together for longer than he originally wanted, but being in the muddy grass and laughing over getting drenched is 100% his favorite memory with you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected)

⨳⊹ He doesn't like to admit it a lot, but he is scared of something happening to you.

⨳⊹ Halsin's usually likes to put up this front of being a leader who carries their burdens with pride and doesn't let their struggle show, but the idea of you dying during battle without being able to help you scares him.

⨳⊹ So much has been taken from him in his life, and he's made more than enough mistakes to learn the consequences of his actions. He believes life is precious. Particularly yours.

⨳⊹ You are important to so many people and it terrifies him to think of the state of the Earth without you living on it.

⨳⊹ He feels bigger in his wild shape, more powerful, so whenever you're in danger, he'll resort to it as a reflex.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

⨳⊹ More effort than you'd think.

⨳⊹ He likes to make every moment with him exciting for you. He's the type to go ham on your birthday, setting up a scavenger hunt or getting your favorite kind of dessert to share under the stars.

⨳⊹ Anniversaries are a big deal for him. When you've lived on the earth as long as he is, you learn how precious life is, and how it can be ripped away within seconds.

U = Ugly (What would be a bad habit of theirs?)

⨳⊹ He tends to hide his own problems, as to not burden you.

⨳⊹ I genuinely think Halsin has some kind of tiny fear of being a pain in the ass, this shows in his dialogue whenever you accept to help him with the Shadowcurse after helping him one or two times before that, and he says "I truly don't deserve you."

⨳⊹ It's gonna be a hard habit to break whenever he asks if you can get him a glass of water while he's comfy in bed and says something of the same caliber.

⨳⊹ Just give him some reassurance, or do it back to him to make a point and make him stop.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

⨳⊹ He's seen to be a bit unkempt, long hair, body hair, but... but... look at those little braids in his hair 😭

⨳⊹ He's strangely really good at taking care of his hair for most people in dnd times, making sure he doesn't smell terrible with how often he's outside, rolling in the grass under the warm sunspots and hunting for food.

⨳⊹ He bathes rather consistently and uses oils for his hair to make it nice and healthy, but if he were in modern times, he's definitely one of those guys who rawdogs their faces with bar soap and calls it a day and gets 0 acne.

⨳⊹ He likes smelling similar to trees and pine, so if he finds some kind of perfume or cologne that smells similar, he'll probably use a few spritzes of that but that's it.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

⨳⊹ Yes, weirdly.

⨳⊹ Again, Halsin's lived a long life. With many lovers and people he's found deep connections to, people he's lost. He's not unfamiliar with grief or the deep sinking feeling of losing someone. Whether that be a breakup or death.

⨳⊹ He thought he was immune to the pain from that after so many times of feeling it, but the idea of not having your smile and your warmth makes life feel lacking. He embraces with warmth with other bodies and souls, but he's never met a soul akin to yours before. One that marveled him, intrigued him so deeply.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

⨳⊹ He likes having bouts of silence sometimes, where he doesn't feel the need to talk and can just drink his herbal tea with honey and rest in the lounge of his home.

⨳⊹ He'll go hours without talking until you ask a question or ask him to come to bed, which he'll quickly break, but sitting down with a tea and a book are his favorite ways to decompress.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

⨳⊹ Jealousy is so, so ugly to him. He understands monogamy has its place, and that it is not for him, but jealousy to the point of putting restrictions on your partner makes him want to curl up and shudder.

⨳⊹ Like in a modern type of au, asking him to block someone or stop following some people on social media will give him the ick SO BAD.

⨳⊹ Big drinkers aren't his thing either, I think. Drinks once and a while are fun and all, but having a glass of wine or beer every night makes him cringe a bit.

Z = Zzz (What are some sleep habits of theirs?)

⨳⊹ Elves don't typically sleep unless they feel the need to, though they usually only rest in a state of deep meditation, kinda like that feeling when you fall asleep in a car and can feel every turn and brake but you're otherwise pretty dead to the world.

⨳⊹ Just in case you ever wondered why him and the other elves of the party have that meditation position during eepy time, that's why.

⨳⊹ When he does sleep though, he sleeps like a fucking rock. Does not MOVE.

⨳⊹ Definitely snores though. Not dad-in-a-hotel-room-at-3am type of volume, don't worry.

⨳⊹ Just soft hums while he rests, his arm draped over your waist while his other supports your neck, hugging you close to his bare chest.

⨳⊹ Do keep in mind that he's the type to prefer bedrooms fucking frigid and will keep windows open at all times. He's used to sleeping outside, so humid bedrooms are his fucking nightmare.

⨳⊹ Sometimes he likes to sleep in his wild shape and curl up :) he's super soft and warm

⨳⊹ Also just to add I looked up whether or not druids fucking hibernate for this since I've never had to encounter that while playing dnd and I can't find shit so I'm going to assume they don't for practicality-sake but c'mon the idea of Halsin stocking up hella on food and having his own little space for hibernation is so funny to me.

NS/FW ALPHABET:

A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex?)

⨳⊹ Drained, usually.

⨳⊹ Halsin puts his all into everything he touches, but please keep in mind that he's always going to put his exhaustion aside to take care of you, make sure you have the water and love that you need to be sated for the night.

⨳⊹ He needs touch too.

⨳⊹ He likes to caress your skin, relating it to memory while placing kisses on your forehead, having you splayed out on top of him. Your weight comforts him.

⨳⊹ This will probably be how he’ll act in the beginning of your relationship.

⨳⊹ As he gets more comfy, it’s very likely he’s just gonna resort to zoning out while holding you, letting out small content hums while he meditates.

B = Body Part (What's their favorite body part of theirs? What about their partner?)

⨳⊹ Nonsexual: He likes his hair. Likes when you hold it, when you play with it, when you pull it. He likes it nice and long.

⨳⊹ Sexual: Not to be so direct but I truly believe he is so unbelievably confident in his dick. You remember that grin on his face when he warns you about it? C’mon.

⨳⊹ Nonsexual: For you, his favorite are your hands. He’s always holding them, pinning you down or caressing them after every orgasm, pressing his lips to the palms.

⨳⊹ Sexual: Whichever way you take him, that’s his favorite body part. He loves the way the walls clench around him with every pump, and loves your reaction whenever he stimulates it with his fingers or tongue.

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

⨳⊹ He didn’t think he was super into it until he got baby fever and now he’s dumping every load all over you, regardless of if you can even get pregnant or not. The idea is so pleasing to him.

⨳⊹ He isn’t happy unless he sees it leaking out of you, and he’ll stick a finger or two as a plug to keep you nice and filled with his cum.

⨳⊹ He’ll whisper about how the Oak Father took his time with sculpting you. How your beauty just enhances being filled up with him.

D = Dirty Secret (What's a dirty secret of theirs?)

⨳⊹ He's a slut for your scent.

⨳⊹ If you leave something in his tent, you're NOT getting it back until it stops smelling like you.

⨳⊹ Even then, he'll lie and say he just noticed it during spring cleanings but that man is aware of every trace of you that comes into his tent at night.

⨳⊹ If you're off adventuring and leave him at camp, he'll just meditate, laying down in his bed roll with whatever article of clothing you leave behind.

⨳⊹ He has your undergarments, mainly, or your clothes you wear under your armor. Anything that releases the majority of your body heat, he keeps secret in his tent.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

⨳⊹ Mr. "I have taken many lovers"? How experienced is he?

⨳⊹ Halsin's quite the wise one. He's an eager student, especially to pleasures such as this.

⨳⊹ His hands are calculated, moving over every inch of your body, squeezing to find exactly the points that make you squirm and whimper for him.

⨳⊹ Nobody's touched you as precisely as Halsin. Nobody's caressed you as perfectly, known what buttons to push and in what order.

⨳⊹ Obviously he's not perfect, nobody is. But Halsin's the guy who helps you discover things that feel good that you didn't even know about.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

⨳⊹ Whatever position allows your eyes on him. Fuck, he loves your eyes on him.

⨳⊹ So, mainly, that's gonna be missionary, with your thighs on either side of him while he ruts into you.

⨳⊹ He doesn't like giving you oral from the back nearly as much as he likes giving it from the front because he loves to see your expressions and reactions, and loves your arms wrapping around him.

⨳⊹ Sex is very intimate for him. It's a very important, physical bond and he likes to fulfill that. Especially with his eyes on you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or goofy?)

⨳⊹ Not to be that person but he's genuinely a mix?? Possibly closer to goofy because c'mon. c'monnnn.

⨳⊹ Sex isn't always sexy, and that's the best thing about it.

⨳⊹ Your tummy might rumble or groan, a moan might come out weird with voice cracks, and he might need to pause to giggle a bit.

⨳⊹ He's not adverse to cracking a few jokes inbetween thrusts, kissing your jawline and mumbling small inside jokes to keep the mood nice and light.

⨳⊹ But he has his moments where he's just trying to get the stress out, or an enemy made him angry to the point where he just needs to make you cum to get his mind right. Those are his rougher nights, definitely.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

⨳⊹ In terms of his body hair, it's, in his words, "untamed". He's not opposed to being hairy, and he doesn't care if you've got some either. He's willing to maintain it if you voice that concern to him, but otherwise, it's staying there.

⨳⊹ Carpet matches the drapes, a light brown that gets darker and curlier near the base.

⨳⊹ Chest and belly hair are similar, pretty damned hairy around the nipples and belly button, and a very apparent happy trail.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the romantic aspect of the moment?

⨳⊹ Sometimes gentle lovemaking is the best medicine, and he knows that.

⨳⊹ Sometimes he just wants to be close to you and touch foreheads and pepper small kisses on your cheeks and-

⨳⊹ Listen, you get the idea. Halsin's a huge romantic. Maybe not Wyll or Gale level but he knows how he feels for you is deep.

⨳⊹ I can just imagine slow thrusts, a big, loving smile on his lips while he hums a comforting tune, tracing small patterns into your skin to keep you in his reality.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanons?)

⨳⊹ I don't think he does it often, the only thing I can envision with masturbation with Halsin is that he didn't use to do it often until he started catching feelings for you.

⨳⊹ If you envision your relationship being like Tav's with him, the second you beat that Shadowcurse and returned to camp, he was horny but he knew wasn't the right time to proposition you.

⨳⊹ I'd give anything to be in the tent to see the torture he put his cock through that night, orgasm after orgasm with the image of you slaying Ketheric Thorm replaying in his mind. How determined you looked, your heavy breaths, Oak Father preserve him.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

⨳⊹ If you can get pregnant, I don't think Halsin having a breeding kink is too far fetched.

⨳⊹ The man loves children, and I know he would crave the thought of you, pregnant and heavy, carrying his baby.

⨳⊹ I plead you to get some form of birth control because this man would give you litters if you'd let him. He wants as many kids as he can get as a father.

⨳⊹ If you can't, you have other options, though don't expect him to completely throw away his breeding kink. You're still gonna be stuffed full every intimate night with him.

⨳⊹ I personally think Halsin also has a voice kink. He likes you nice and loud so he knows he's doing a good job, and that you like what he's giving you.

⨳⊹ Sensory deprivation is something he can get into. Earmuffs, blindfolds, all of it. He'd be so down. Anything to make either him or you nice and tingly and sensitive.

L = Location (What's their favorite place to do the do?) ⨳⊹ Outside, as a surprise to absolutely no one.

⨳⊹ He likes to feel the cool grass on his skin, the sounds of nature that surround him, the sight of your breathtaking bodice under the moonlight.

⨳⊹ Nothing compares to nature's bounty, truly.

M = Motivation (What turns them on/gets them going?)

⨳⊹ Weirdly, seeing you angry, or determined really gets him going.

⨳⊹ He finds it so attractive whenever you defend him or others, raise your voice and stand your ground, he can barely stand the urge to sweep you off your feet and pleasure every inch of your body right there.

⨳⊹ He loves making out. If you wanna get him in the mood, some good tongue action will do that for him pretty quick. Be careful though, if you play with his hair, he's a goner.

N = No (What's something they wouldn't do? What're their turn-offs?)

⨳⊹ Sorry to the omo fans but I can't see Halsin being into anything involving bodily waste such as piss or anything hardcore, which I think is fairly normal and expected

⨳⊹ But c'mon I'm tired of people thinking this man's gonna say yes to everything

⨳⊹ Halsin's pretty experimental but even he has limits man 😭

O = Oral (What is their preference? Do they like to give, receive, or both?)

⨳⊹ Oh, Halsin's a giver.

⨳⊹ Although he loves getting head too, the feeling of the heat radiating from your inner thighs against his cheeks is a drug to him.

⨳⊹ He dines down there like it's his last meal in a century, eagerly licking and moving his head up and down until he's swallowed every ounce of your cum

⨳⊹ Until you massage his scalp like you're spreading shampoo through the strands because he's doing such a good job, sucking and slurping so unapologetically.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

⨳⊹ Halsin prefers a pace that allows him to take his time, enjoy the moment, then when the moment calls for it, he can be as rough as he sees fit with you.

⨳⊹ He'll start off at a nice pace, around 85bpm (look up a metronome if you want a better visual), just watching the way your skin bounces with every thrust and the small begs that escape you as you ask for some relief

⨳⊹ It's then that he'll move on to his favorite speed, 120bpm. Fast enough to make your noises louder but not too fast where he needs to focus on his movements solely.

⨳⊹ On very rare occasions, mainly when he's a little more relaxed with a drink or two in him, perfectly aware of his actions and surroundings but loose enough to go with the flow, those are his rough nights.

⨳⊹ He'll bump up to a 150bpm with small grunts and desperate whines that leave his throat, burying his face in your neck and getting lost in the moment with you.

Q = Quickie (What's their opinion on quickies? How often, etc.?)

⨳⊹ Ehhhhh??

⨳⊹ I'll be honest I don't think he's the biggest fan of quickies. He likes to take his time, enjoy the moment.

⨳⊹ If you need him but you're on a time constraint, he'll honestly just coax you to wait until you can have a moment of respite together, but if you do enough sweet talking, he'll compromise by giving you head before you need to do your thing.

⨳⊹ Anything past that, you'll need to wait for, so he can take in his time with you.

⨳⊹ Trust me, he'll make sure it's worth the wait.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks, etc.?)

⨳⊹ I wouldn't say he's opposed.

⨳⊹ I mean, the man loves outside sex. He lives for that. Although he prefers seclusion, he's never one to deny prying eyes from seeing your gorgeous display.

⨳⊹ If you tell him you wanna be a bit more bold, he'll massage you on the ass while you're on his lap during campfires in front of the other companions, or he might sneak his hand between your thighs for some light palming under a blanket enjoying the sound of your held back, excited moans with the image of getting caught with Halsin's big hands between your thighs.

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

⨳⊹ Three rounds is probably where he taps out, letting out a shaky, breathless laugh from his lips as he slumps onto the ground. He'll tell you how amazing you are, how you tire him out with how eager he is.

⨳⊹ Again, he's had plenty of experience. So he knows how to hold back an orgasm, knows how to prioritize your pleasure to make the moment last as long as he can handle.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

⨳⊹ I highly doubt vibrators were a thing in the age of dnd but I do know that dildos existed and date back to the motherfucking Ice Age so let's go off of that.

⨳⊹ Dildos are great! He loves them! He thinks they're a creative way to spice things up a bit, and encourages the use of them whenever he's away and vice versa.

⨳⊹ He likes to use them as foreplay, making you soaked with his tongue before plunging the toy into you, letting it hit that spongey spot that makes you see stars while he teases your sensitive spots up front

U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease?)

⨳⊹ Thankfully Halsin’s quite merciful when it comes to teasing you.

⨳⊹ The only exception is if you’re really desperate, he can’t help wanting to hear your whimpers and begs for him.

⨳⊹ He’ll slap his dick against your entrance, a knowing grin on his face as you whine for him to put it in already.

⨳⊹ He’ll tell you he can’t help himself, he absolutely can.

V = Volume (How loud are they, what sounds do they make, etc.?)

⨳⊹ He doesn't control them, if that's what you're wondering.

⨳⊹ He's got a big smile on his face while he goes on and on about how good you make him feel, how incredibly grateful he is for getting to love you like this.

⨳⊹ His moans are heavenly, low rumbles of curses and mutters of your name.

⨳⊹ He'll tease you a little too, letting out soft low chuckles that get cut off by breathless groans and sighs as you sink deeper onto him.

⨳⊹ The loudest he gets is surprisingly when he's giving you head. He LOVES that shit. He'll moan against the skin, loud slurps and wet kisses against your thighs. That's the position he gives you dirty talk the most.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon)

⨳⊹ Halsin secretly really likes dumbification but for both parties ⨳⊹ I think he finds fucked-out expressions hot as shit and likes to overstimulate and tease you until you're inaudible with how mindless you are.

⨳⊹ He loves being mindless too, just whimpering as he ruts into you with harsh pants and a big sex-drunk look on his face.

⨳⊹ This mainly happens after a long day or on anniversaries/birthdays, in general days meant for relaxation and stress relief.

X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on under those clothes)

⨳⊹ Okay. Let's be realistic here.

⨳⊹ Bears aren't that fucking big. I'm tired of seeing these full-grown adults headcanon this poor man's dick to be 3 feet long with massive girth. Jesus christ. He isn't a horse. He won't kill you with every pump.

⨳⊹ However, given in the drow scene when they're wondering how it fits, and his description of "large" I'm assuming it's around 8.5 inches or so as a grower rather than a shower, flaccid around 5 to 6 inches. Wild shape is similar.

⨳⊹ So yes, he is big compared to most dicks, but goddamn 💀

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

⨳⊹ Halsin's ready-to-fucking-go whenever you need him.

⨳⊹ You want dick at any point in time and he's making time to give it to you.

⨳⊹ Obviously mid-battle and mid-vulnerable moment aren't the best times to be turned on but any time besides that, he's got you.

⨳⊹ He likes to go by YOUR sex drive the majority of the time but if you haven't guessed yet, his sex drive is high. He'd have you every night if you'd let him.

Z = Zzz (How quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?)

⨳⊹ He's always got time to make sure you're okay and settled before retiring for the night.

⨳⊹ He likes to take time to bask in the afterglow a little more, brushing his fingertips across your skin and pressing soft kisses to your temple, quiet whispers of devotion and love against your skin.

⨳⊹ Halsin's one for enjoying the happiness of the moments he experiences, doesn't like to waste them away. He won't think about closing his eyes until at least 20 minutes after you do.

[yawnderu]

K-9 — Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader | Chapter I

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

Simon Riley and his pathetic efforts to get close to the new medic will earn him a scar or two

or

Simon Riley is crushing on an uninterested, tired medic.

''I don't mean to be rude, but I'm getting tired of seeing you here.'' Your blunt words are met with a quiet chuckle, the masked man looking up at you with pure amusement in his eyes.

'' 'M trying not to get injured, bird.'' Oh, but he isn't. He's actively getting injured just so he can drop by and get your help. It's stupid, really, how his obsession with you began. He thinks about the first time he saw you, standing right next to Price, an unamused expression as he went on and on about his team, telling you stories of their missions and time together and despite how bored you looked, your attention was solely on him.

He took that chance to look at you, to truly admire you, noticing the way you pull up your glasses every few minutes even when they're not sliding down your nose, the way your eyes were focused only on Price, paying attention to no one but him, legs crossed while sitting next to Price, your face resting on your hand.

''Clearly not trying hard enough.'' He can't help the way his cock twitches at your bored tone, the small frown on your lips just making him think how pretty you'd look with his cum all over your face— he shakes his head softly, trying to get his mind out of the gutter, focusing on the fast and professional work you're doing on his injured arm, pulling the skin back together with a beautifully done stitchwork.

''It's hard being out there.'' He tries to make conversation and all you can do is hum in acknowledgement, gaze focused on the way the needle digs into his skin, coming out of the other side just to be pulled back together with the thin, transparent thread.

''Y'know Gaz was hanging from a chopper by a bloody rope?'' He knows you're close to Gaz, he has seen you talk to him often, and so he tries to desperately make conversation again.

''Scared the shit out o' the old man.'' His efforts work as a small snicker escapes your lips, stopping working on his stitches as you collected yourself. You look up at him with an amused glint in your eyes, nodding your head. God, he has never seen something quite as beautiful.

''Cap told me about it. Poor guy had his whole waist bruised.'' You let out another small laugh before turning your attention back to the deep cut in his arm.

''If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're getting injured on purpose.'' His heart almost stops as your cold eyes look back up at his, an eyebrow raised, yet there's a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you notice his lack of response.

'' 'M not.'' Is all he can say, the knowing look you give him enough to make his blood boil, traveling all the way down to his throbbing cock, thankful for the black hoodie sprawled across his lap to prevent the blood from leaking into his jeans. You ignore all the... beige flags, knowing he's not stupid enough to actually get injured on purpose. You finish stitching him up, throwing away the tools used and the bloodied gloves.

''Keep the wound dry for 24 hours, if any of the stitches come off or the wound opens, come to me.'' You softly pat his shoulders, a small yawn escaping your lips as you look up at the clock on the wall; 0200.

''Tired?'' He asks sarcastically, earning him a way-too-hard pat on the shoulder. Simon woke you up at 2 in the morning, claiming his wound couldn't wait. It wasn't even as bad as he made it seem, though you appreciate your work with the TF141 more than you let on, so you decided to help him. It isn't the first time he wakes you up at outrageous hours, claiming to need help for things ranging from a pathetic paper cut to a gunshot wound. This time, his arm was the only thing affected, a cut big enough to need stitches.

''Very. Now get out.'' Your hand sneaks into the back of his uniform, tugging softly and he gets the message, standing up and allowing you to guide him out of your office like he's a child. He doesn't care if it's you.

''Goodnight, Simon.'' You can barely keep your eyes open and he feels a slight sense of guilt at keeping you up, knowing you'll have to be awake again in less than 3 hours.

''Night, Doc.''

[NEXT]

[pierregazly]

soft for you ꨄ lance stroll

lance stroll x reader

warnings: disgusting fluff, mention of crash [1018 words]

request: could i request 3 & 4 from the 🫶🏼 prompt list with lance? [3. SMILING during a kissss >>>>> and 4. the gaze that softens as soon as it lands on you.]

note: lance taking after his dad >>> relationships come before f1 >>> this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!

He was pissed. Even without hearing his words, or knowing the whole situation, you could see it in his face. His eyebrows were pinched, the sarcastic roll of his eyes after every sentence that left his mouth, both stark examples of how genuinely angry Lance was.

It had been a nightmare of a season from the first race, anything that could go wrong, having gone wrong. You knew nothing you could say or do would truly change Lance’s perspective. The car wasn’t great, the strategy was poor, and little mistakes had begun piling up, the damage to his car worse and worse almost every race.

And the first race of the season you were able to attend? Another crash, another early end to Lance’s race. You couldn’t help the grimace that overtook your face as you watched him argue with one of the engineers, his hands flying up in the air in exasperation as another eye roll was visible from your spot across the room.

Multiple people were trying to avoid looking at the conversation currently taking place, not wanting to overstep or get anywhere near the line of fire once Lance finally made his exit from the room. You couldn’t help but stare at the situation, waiting for him to finally look up, to finally make eye contact with you.

It didn’t take him long to do so once he realized he had multiple eyes on him, his brown orbs locating your own just seconds later. His face, his mere gaze, softened almost immediately, any comment from his engineer going unheard and ignored as he simply nodded his head in response to whatever he was saying. You couldn’t help the small smile that began to form on your face as he walked towards you, leaving his mechanics and engineers to stew in their own anger and frustration.

Just another little thing you could always count on. He could be livid. He could be whipping his steering wheel across the room, or shouting at whoever would listen; but he would never allow it to enter your relationship. It was one thing you admired, one of so many things you loved about him. His career, his job, it was separate from your relationship and always had been.

He didn’t talk about racing when he was with you, didn’t talk about how poor the season was going or how miserable he was beginning to become. He would talk about it when you urged him to, not wanting him to bottle it up, not wanting him to feel as if you didn’t support him when he was at his worst. But he never let it effect your relationship, never let the anger mask his love for you, or the way he treated you.

Pulling you into his arms once he was close enough, you felt his chin rest gently on the crown of your head as a loud exhale left his body. His back muscles were tense, his body practically shaking in frustration as he squeezed you tighter, trying to take advantage of all the time he could get with you.

Pulling back, you watched the corners of his lips curve as he gazed down at you. Your grip on his bicep not letting up as you observed the influx of emotions cross his features. The defeat, the frustration, the misery; they were so prevalent at first, so raw as he tried to contain them. But before long, the emotions of devastation began to melt away. The small grin on his face not wavering as he looked down on you, practically delighted to see you, regardless of the outcome of his day.

“Bonjour, mon coeur. You look beautiful, as always,” he murmured.

Smiling up at him, you stood on your tiptoes so you could press a small kiss to his lips in gratitude for his words.

“Bonjour, my love. How are you? Are you okay? Are you sore? You’re very tense,” the onslaught of questions spewed from your lips, unable to contain them as you began looking him over.

The soft grip on your cheek was all you needed to glance back up into his eyes. A faint smile still graced his face as he gently ran his thumb across your cheek. A smile still graced his face as he leaned down to press his lips against yours, prompting your own lips to curve upwards as he did so. 

“I’m fine, mon coeur. A little sore, nothing I haven’t dealt with before. I just have to deal with some media, and probably some more yelling, and then we can get out of here, yeah? I can book us reservations for somewhere, or we can just get room service back at the hotel? Whatever you want.”

“Lance… if you want to talk about the race, we can. You don’t have to be so nonchalant about it, I know you’re not happy,” you said.

Shrugging his shoulders at you, his only response was to lean down and brush his lips against yours again, the curve of them still so prominent. The softness, the gentleness, the simple adoration so evident in his every action with you.

His lips touched yours before moving on to the tip of your nose, your cheeks, the skin below your ear; a smile gracing his lips with every kiss.

“I’m not happy, but not much I can do about it. I’m not going to let it determine my time with you, though. Work stays at work, no need to bring it back to the hotel with us. So, reservations, or hotel dinner?”

Before you could answer, Lance continued.

“Dinner in the hotel sounds like a good idea, I think. Room service and some reality television sounds like a good time to me, maybe cuddle up a little and ignore the world. What do you think?”

Pressing your lips against his with a large grin, your only response was a squeeze of his bicep and a nod of your head. If he wanted to escape the world and hold you all night? Well, all you could do was say ‘yes’. 

just wanted to write something soft/loving so i hope y'all love this!!! thank you everyone for participating in my follower celebration and being lovely!!!

[ghostlyferrettarot]

♥︎Pick a picture: 💐How your Future Spouse sees you?🪷

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open.

🫧Join my Patreon for exclusive content!🫧

🪩If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!🪩

🪩Masterlist🪩

💐Pile 1: Queen of Cups, Two of Wands and Queen of Swords.

Hi pile 1! There's a lot of femenine energy in this pile, a lot of nurturing energy also. This person adores you, they see you as their equal and feel like you balance and ground them. Your FS may be someone who is really energetic and is always on the go, so you come into his life as a blessing; as the rest he needed.

Your person feels protective over you, he wants to make sure that you have everything you need. Your FS thinks really highly of you and see you as someone smart who's capable to achive everything you set your mind to; they want to work hard to be at your level, in their eyes you are a Divine goddess who deserves to be with someone worthy of her.

Both of you understand eachother and feel trully at peace when you are together; i heard "sacred" connection, both of you value the pureness of the relationship!

♥︎Signs: Baby blue, Roses, the beach, water signs, golden, doves.

💐Song:

💐Pile 2: Temperance, Ace of Pentacles and Six of Cups.

Hi pile 2! Your Future Spouse value everything you do for them, you love lenguage may be Acts of service or quality time. This person sees you as their special one, there's no one like you for them; your spouse is someone who will chose you always, you make them feel at peace which i hear is something that they don't feel quite often.

Your FS sees you as someone caring but with boundaries, they admire this side of you. You are someone who loves deeply but doesn't get fooled easily; they see you as someone emotionally understanding and mature, they admire this and wonder how you do it; your person can have a difficult time opening up emotionally, but with you this change completely.

Your Future Spouse see you as their forever, they want to start a family with you and grow old with you, no one makes them feel the way that you do pile 2!

♥︎Signs: Air signs, Green and Soft pink, Butterflys, Pandas, Flower fields.

💐Song:

💐Pile 3: Seven of Cups, Eight of Cups and Queen of Pentacles.

Hi pile 3! Your future spouse sees you as someone so poweful, in their eyes you are someone who can create whatever they want in their life. This person loves your sense of humor, you may have a sarcastic one and they feel that you two have that in common.

Your Spouse loves how non judgemental and open minded you are, they feel that they can truly be themselves with you. They love how confident you are, sometimes it's even a bit intimidating for them; they see you as someone who can have and be with anyone you want, but they are glad you chose them to be the one.

Your FS admires you deeply, you are probably a creative soul and they often admire all your creations; your person is probably creative too, you may be the muse of many of his projects. In their eyes they know that you are their "ride or die", they want to explore the world and enjoy every aspect of their life with you!

♥︎Signs: Red, fire and air signs, wine, dragons, The moon, Bunnies.

💐Song:

💐Thanks for reading and

tell me if it resonated💐

[38riku]

𝐁𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐓.𝟑 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🎂 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

includes pomefiore (separately). no warnings. fluff. i should've did this by dorm but i didn't think i'd make more than one part.

read part one. part two.

𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐓

you've come to wish me a happy birthday? heh, as you should. come, sing my praises now that my beauty has been tempered by another year of age.

it isn't unordinary for Vil to receive compliments. he's cemented himself in the limelight and his adoring fans never fail to comment on his beauty and talent.

so, when he jokingly (not so jokingly) asked you to sing his praises, he expected a sarcastic "your perfection is unattainable" or something along those lines.

but, of course, you managed to surprise him.

"you deserve everything your heart desires." what a cheesy line. it was a staple in romance movies that hasn't seemed to die out despite its repetition. he now knows why, albeit because it came from your lips and not that of someone just doing their job.

"and as your beauty matures each and every year, may your tenacity strengthen and elegant vigor continue to shine brightly."

Vil clicked his tongue, a ghost of a smile creeping on his face as he did his best to maintain his composure.

"I almost feel guilty that such heartfelt words are directed towards me and not a lover of yours."

You laughed, as if the thought of a lover was unbelievable. If only you were aware of the many admirers after your tender heart, would you still find it amusing?

"Don't be silly Vil. You're the fairest of them all, the only one worthy of these words."

You had him stumped. The way you said such things as if they held little to no weight.

For a moment, being the fairest of them all wasn't appealing. He is the fairest in your eyes, which amounted to more than you could ever imagine.

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓

merci! your dulcet tones are the greatest gift I could receive. you may consider your sentiments most appreciated.

rook was satisfied with your simple 'happy birthday' although it wasn't so simple to him. your smile was blinding, genuine glee filling your eyes as you greeted him with more joy than usual. to think the day of his birth elicited such excitement.

"i hope you like your present."

"any gift from you is a priceless treasure my dear. the mere fact that your thoughts were captivated by me makes my heart flutter."

he adored your flustered expression but wasn't interested in teasing you too much today. opening the large box, he audibly gasped at the sight. "you've truly outdone yourself. i am undeserving of such a magnificent piece."

he inspected the hat, humming in satisfaction at the handiwork and embroidery. a small chuckled fell from his lips as he heard your gentle sigh of relief.

walking toward you, he removed his usual hat and placed it on your head, wearing the new one it its stead. "we make a magnificent pair, do we not? even with a piece as fine as this my beauty is lackluster to yours."

"it's your birthday rook. i should be the one complementing you, not the other way around."

he laughed at that. your compassion and generosity made his heart soar to heights unknown.

"your beauty deserves to be appreciated no matter the occasion. your presence alone fills me with comfort. you have a voice that is sweeter than the chase of a hunt. i am inclined to speak on your physical appearance, but, I am unsure that you'd be able to handle such honeyed words."

after all the time you've known one another you still weren't used to his flattery. it's not his fault, you were positively stunning in every aspect of the word.

it's his day of celebration after all, and he'll spend it as he sees fit. surely you will allow him to fawn over you? he can't think of a better way to spend his birthday.

𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐑

you, ah, you want to celebrate my birthday? s-sorry, I'm not used to hearing that from anyone other than close family. thanks.

"tada! happy birthday!"

you removed your hands from his eyes, moving to stand in front of him with a knowing smile. "a feast fit for the birthday boy. well, a meal, since it's just the two of us."

yes, just the two of you. that's probably why his usually strict house warden was a bit more lenient with him missing an etiquette lesson.

hopefully he didn't think it was something more than two friends sharing a meal. that's all there is to it, right?

"thanks! this looks amazing."

"remember that takeout i shared with you and the guys not too long ago? it's the same place. i figured since you liked it so much we can try more stuff!"

golly, weren't you just a ball of sunshine. if he was to thank ace and deuce for anything (which isn't much) meeting you would be top on the list.

he couldn't remember the last time he was able to enjoy the simple pleasures in life like cheeseburgers, chicken tenders, fries, onion rings; but boy was it the most fulfilling meal of his life.

spending the evening with someone close to him, eating, joking around, and enjoying each other's company. you might not think it's much, but, the time you shared cured his home sickness, even for a little while.

it was his first time celebrating his birthday away from home after all.

"one more surprise." you place a finger on your lips, winking, before disappearing in the kitchen.

in your absence, he did his best to calm his beating heart. you laid it on thick and didn't even know it! don't you know where he's from, a meal is a way to a man's heart?

did you know that? was this a cover for blatantly pursuing him? no, there's no way, just wishful thinking on his end.

his thoughts came to a halt as you reappeared with a singular piece of pie in your hands and a candle. placing it in front of him, you quickly lit it, and ushered him to make a wish.

usually, he wishes for the same thing every year, but, just this once, he wished for something utterly selfish. something that, when he blowed the candle, he looked toward you sheepishly, denying to tell you because it "wouldn't come true."

one day it'll come true. one day, he'll be the apple of your eye, and sweep you off your feet.

© 2024 — 38riku. Do not copy or repost or plagiarize my work. All Rights Reserved.

[fanaticsnail]

Happy Birthday Doflamingo

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,600+

Synopsis: Donquixote Doflamingo was in his own little world within the warlord meeting at the world government headquarters. Suddenly, an uncommon source reminded him what day it was, and he was left perplexed and pleasantly surprised.

Themes: Doflamingo x gn!reader, parent!reader, Doflamingo is a secret softy, you have a child, fluff, birthday fluff, 'Nana' is your parent.

Notes: It's Doflamingo's birthday and he needed some fluff.

Sitting in another grueling and disgusting meeting with the marines and fellow warlords, Doflamingo rolled his ruby eyes beneath his rose-hued spectacles. Whether it was Sengoku or Tsuru speaking, he could not truly recall in this present moment. There were several voices interjecting, speaking in a dull drawl regarding whatever mishap occurred between marines or pirates - he cared not.

All that truly mattered was this was a stepping stone towards achieving his ultimate goal: reinstating his celestial dragon bloodline and bringing all the favor that title granted him.

He was a king.

He was a warlord.

He was a pirate, long since retired to grant his status immunity from the World Government…

…He was currently being tapped on the arm by some very small hands on his large forearm, snapping him completely from his inner monologuing. His lengthy, blonde eyelashes batted in awe that someone was to lay a single hand on him, let alone several repetitive taps.

Turning immediately in his chair, his sarcastic and sadistic grin pulling up at the corners of his lips, his gaze was piercing an individual who peered up at him with awe on their features.

Large, rounded eyes blinked slowly, the whimsy and innocent spirit from youth gazing up at him with intrigue and purity. The way their smile upturns, their joy springing from them the more they gaze right into Doflamingo's soul over his pink-colored glasses.

“Mister Doflamingo,” they utter softly, tapping the warlord’s arm with a sheet of thick, manilla paper. “I made a present for you. It has a picture, and it has some writing, and my Nana had to help me with some alphabets so I could make you it.”

Doflamingo’s forehead furrowed, his absent brows pulling in the center of his head as he tucked his chin into his chest to peer at the sheet of paper pricking his skin.

Sure enough, a piece of card material was placed on the meeting table of the warlords, admirals and upper-ranking marines’ circular table. Snapping his gaze back to the child beside him, and returning it back to the card, he remained ignorant of the rapid approach of a marine coming behind the child to chastise them.

“Warlord Donquixote, please forgive the-.” They began, only to be halted by a single, tanned hand from the warlord to silence them.

Glancing down at the page and up to the features of the child once more, he slowly moved the page towards them with a soft smile touching his lips and brightening his face. With the paper now touching the child’s hands, he slowly gestured with his unoccupied digits now lowered towards the paper.

“I'm so sorry, sweetheart,” he slowly gasped, “I forgot my reading glasses. Can you tell me what the letters say so I can know them?”

Doflamingo paid no heed to the individual attempting to remove the child from his sights, truly intrigued at their fearlessness while he attempted to read the page. He paid pure attention to their smile as he slowly placed his index finger along the lettering.

The child laughed, noseying closer to the giant while tilting their head to read their own writing.

“Can't you see?” They moved in closer, their body now flush with his while they read from the paper, “It says: ‘Happy Birthday Doflamingo’. And down there,” they point to the page where two blobs form next to one another, “That's me and you in there. I did the holding hands because I like to hold hands. And I tried to do your glasses, but I can't remember what the shape was at home.”

Doflamingo was stunned to silence. His lips dropped into a slack-jawed ‘O’-shape. His lips tingled with a shaky inhale, darting through all the lettering and to the two individuals holding hands to the left of the page.

He had forgotten. All of these years flung from him, and he had forgotten the one day per year that was truly his own. The day his mother brought him life. The day he was brought into this world: innocent, titled, cherished, loved. And he had forgotten.

But this child hadn't.

“It's your birthday, isn't it, Mister Doflamingo?” Their innocence was written in their face, their soft question weighted with more than they had truly intended. Doflamingo slowly blinked before nodding, gazing down with a smile that he had almost forgotten.

“It is, sweetheart,” he replied with a gasped chuckle, “Thank you for remembering. And this is me and you?” He pointed to the page, darting his attention to the paper and back to the child, “My, my. Your art is impeccable. I thought it was a mirror, and I was staring back at myself.”

The child laughed, grinning with their teeth clenched firmly shut. Doflamingo couldn't help but contract their smile, the contagion spreading to glee on his own face.

“You like it?” They asked him with their giddiness rising in their chest and fizzing through their much smaller body. Doflamingo’s face matched their own, albeit an act to bring himself more joy than truly necessary.

“I love it,” he confirmed with a nod.

The marine from earlier was staring wide-eyed at the interaction between child and the warlord. Their Nana was tasked on babysitting the child, and was unfortunately called in to assist in the medical ward.

One hasty decision merged into another, and “Nana’s” subordinate was now watching as the giant warlord was lifting the child atop his extended knee, handing them coloring pencils and assisting them on doodling all over the agenda for the meeting.

Sir Crocodile watched on with a lazy smirk, Dracule Mihawk cocked his chin to the side and twitched his brow up to an arch as he was no longer paying attention to the meeting. The admirals and vice-admirals were also stunned to silence, watching as the child exhubirantly exclaimed exactly what hue Doflamingo's hair was with the pencils at hand.

While Nana was saving a life, bringing their grandchild in as a last resort, you were occupied with your own undertakings. Both of you remained blissfully unaware of the bond occuring between two unseemly individuals: your four year old, and a warlord over five times their size.

Doflamingo, while formerly bored at the meeting, was now preoccupied with aiding your child in a game of naughts and crosses on the manilla page: his birthday message now face-down on the table. He may have began the meeting as a warlord bound by reputation and striving for greatness, but as of this moment?

He was Mister Doflamingo, the birthday boy. With your four year old singing to him in such volume that the meeting derailed and they simply disbanded, he was enjoying the first birthday he had truly celebrated in years.

When Nana dropped your baby back off home, they came with a package in tow. This package was over ten feet tall, clad in feathers of pink, and leaf-shaped rosey glasses that covered their ruby eyes. Ducking into the arch of your door, with Nana ushering your child through, the giant offered you a smile and a card of their own.

“A token of my appreciation of the company that kept me today,” Doflamingo smiled warmly, his enterage looking more uneasy than you were at the appearance of the warlord. Gently taking the envelope from his hands, he held his grip firmly to keep your attention a moment longer.

Leaning in, he peered over his glasses and softened his voice to a decibel you were not expecting. His innocence seeming to match that of your child while Nana ushered them away.

“Should you venture to Dressrosa, marine,” he urged you softly, “You will find an ally in me. I swear to you, nothing unbecoming occured. I simply colored in with your child at the World Government meeting earlier today-.”

“-My baby was in a room full of warlords?!” you growled, snapping your head over to the fleeing frame of Nana beginning the bed time routine for your child. Doflamingo shook his head softly, clicking his tongue to place your attention back onto him.

“Your child was unharmed and uninjured. I'm sure Tsuru would grant you access to the Den-Den footage should you ask for it,” he nodded slowly, his eyes peaking over the frame of his glasses while gazing at you. “And they were better company than most of the others in there. My gratitude is in the card, should you intend on reading it.”

You peered down at the envelope, then back up to the warlord casting shadow over your doorstep. Blinking softly, you take a moment to claim back your stupour and bow to the being at your door. He returned your kindness with a bow of his own before rising to full stature.

As he turned to leave, you took a moment to stutter your footsteps and halted him with a shaky exclaim.

“Happy birthday, Donquixote Doflamingo.”

Doflamingo halted his departure, turning back to peer at you with that softness you were not expecting. Sniffing an exhale through his crooked nose, he chuckled at you.

“Thank you. It is one, I think both of us, will not forget in a hurry.”

Donquixote Doflamingo, the leader of a kingdom and being to be feared, was reduced to humility at the simple utterance of ‘Happy Birthday’ where all others seemed to forget. He never forgot such an important occasion.

The following day, you requested the Den-Den footage of the meeting taken place, and you could hardly believe yourself.

There they were, your child and Doflamingo: playing a game of “chase the pen” with pages upon pages of naughts and crosses littering the warlord’s elbows. Both your child and the large king of Dressrosa had smiles matching, apparently contagious as Sir Crocodile, Kuma, Jinbei and even Mihawk all seemed to catch the glee.

Peering at the den-den ‘still’ at your desk was a stark reminder that friendship, glee, and love could be found in the most unlikely of places.

In that next moment, you found yourself a “pen-friend” in Donquixote Doflamingo. Warlord, King, ex-pirate, and Birthday Boy of Dressrosa. Whether that friendship blossoms into something more was entirely up to you.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

Note: Original art by "Young-Sir", inspiration for this fic.

[celestialtarot11]

Why people can’t get enough of you 🪽🤍

Hi friends! We’ll be looking at your astrology chart more in depth to decipher why people can’t get enough of you! This doesn’t just relate to physical aspects—but more so how you carry yourself. Feel free to like reblog & comment to spread love

Leo—The way your eyes burn with passion and sparkle with enthusiasm for the things you love enamors people. People feel like they could listen to you talk about your path, your journey to creating who you are. You’re inspirational. Your words inspire others to become a better version of themselves and when people are with you, you help them to unconsciously alchemize any wounds related to their inner child. You help them feel safe unconsciously, which is why they view you as authentic and genuine—thus making them irresistibly attracted to you. You awaken something primal in people so they can make an active change in their lives. A shot of espresso truly. You’re like a flurry of soft energy yet its powerful enough to leave people scrambling behind you—all puppy like and following your lead. You have then on the tip of their toes and they don’t even realize it until its too late.

Cancer—the knowledge you harbor about your emotional world is so attractive. The way you understand duality, logic vs intuition, trauma vs healing, and the way you articulate your healing experiences is what draws people in. You may already participate in some form of manifestation in your life, and people can feel that luminary charm you carry. You’re like a siren on a dark night, sharp and all seeing yet graceful. People feel when they’re with you, you soothe yet awaken something so deep in them. It scares people, because most of them don’t understand what is changing within them unconsciously when they’re with you. It’s because you inspire them to think deeply beyond surface level awareness. People may find it easy to talk to you, opening up or sharing something deep within the first meeting, because your energy is inviting them to alchemize their wounds.

Scorpio—Your energy is infectious. I’ve noticed scorpios with this placement are pretty open and have a sarcastic kind of humor. People are attracted to the way you banter and how you do it effortlessly. It’s easy—laughter, joy, and yet they feel like they don’t completely know you when they’re with you. They feel as though you’re like fog, hard to grab yet it’s right there. Always dissipating. But that makes it even more exciting, right? People like to think they know you—until you do something that doesn’t fit in their narrative. They may find you even more complex, and driven by the things they don’t understand about you, they fall into your charm. Easy. You have them in your grasp just by remaining a mystery.

Capricorn—Your dedication, hard work and ability to remain steady in what you do is attractive. If placed in the first house you take care of yourself with a sense of dedication and respect. There is something luxurious to your energy. Like you’re the best, top up there is. And people feel as though they miss out on your rich valuables experiences you give only to those you trust. Your inner circle is small which is why people on the outside want in. They want to be apart of your circle and secret garden. But you know your worth and people know you have a sharp eye. This is something people admire yet find themselves crumbling at—because they know if they want to talk to you they better have their shit together. They can’t come to you playing games. God/goddess energy. You bring them to their knees and people fantasize about you taking control.

Sagittarius—There is something heavier about your energy that people feel drawn to. Although ruled by Jupiter, your influence is felt heavily. So is your presence. There is something uncanny about the way you carry yourself, and I mean more so eerie. The way you talk as if you know more yet choose to not say it, the looks you give when you know there is more to it yet you remain private about it. People catch on and form an interest towards you. What’s your intentions? Goals? Ambitions? People may see you working random hours or doing something they didn’t think you’d be doing—which only garners their interest. People just want to know what’s going on in that head of yours. You’re driven by your intuition and instincts, yet you remain razor sharp logically. Your mind works like a piston and people are attracted to your ability to analyze situations with ease.

Virgo—You’re here to have a good time, a lot of people know this. Your open energy is what makes it easy to talk to you and get to know you. The thing is, people find themselves leaving your conversations confused. Confused because they felt they were getting to know you yet only end up with more questions. This is because you’re multi-dimensional. You’re multi-faceted. You’re quick with banter and teasing, and suddenly you’re looking out the window with a somber expression explaining your theories of life (lol love you virgos) and yet people are captivated by both your sides. Your airy, loopy and sweet side, and this grounded, analytical presence you have. This part of you that becomes sentimental to understand life is so precious and pure, and yet it’s there due to working through years of trauma. It’s like you’ve alchemized your bitterness into molasses and people want more. More of your authentic pureness, your somberness. They feel as though they’re in a movie with you.

Pisces—When people thought they knew you they were completely incorrect. People usually deem you as quiet, meek, or complacent. But then they get into your little world and they are met with surprise. Either you’re really great at a certain skill, and they’ve clearly underestimated you because of your ability to hide and scurry—and now when they see you. In all your glory, it’s as if people are dumbstruck. This is what pulls them in. They begin to understand all these different parts of you, and the thing is you may end up confused by yourself, surprised even. Because when you’re with people they bring different parts of you out. So every time you’re with someone it’s never the same experience. It’s always unique. They will never find you in anyone else. It’s hard to replicate the moments and memories with you, which is why people cling to you and stay in your energy. People appreciate your multi faceted nature and realize they can’t take you for granted, it would be a huge mistake. A huge error on their part because there is nothing else comparable to your energy.

Aquarius—People, when they look at you they know something is different. Something is unique. You’ve figured out, or you’re experimenting with a style. A way of speaking, a way of coordinating yourself. Maybe it’s your cultural background. There is something unmistakably “put together,” about you, even if you understand nothing in your life is necessarily that way. The thing is you may understand you’re a mere human being yet when others look at you there’s a sense of otherworldliness. I think it’s because you’ve seen many dimensions and eras in your life. The deepest parts of your hurt and shame, to the parts that have healed. You carry all of that in you like a moving picture, that changes over time. And in every frame you change subtly. So when people look at you—they see painting in progress yet complete and whole. When people are talking to you, they find themselves gaping, star struck at your wisdom and your thoughts. People think, before I met you, I always used to do this thing one way until I met you. I used to think this way until I met you. You are like a star in the dark night.

Gemini—You are like a fairy tale come alive. Quizzical, in character and buoyant with this joy to see the world. Even though it’s just the day apart from yesterday. People may look at you and admire your thirst for understanding the world. Yet you know there is something so much deeper than what meets the eyes. So you like to observe, analyze, all whilst hiding your trump card up your sleeve. Because you’re smart. And I think people underestimate this completely—your deep black hole of a mind. Until you decide to show that side. To see their reaction, to test the waters. People feel scrutinized under you, yet can’t help but enjoy it. The way you look at them, the way you analyze them like they’re prey. They like your attention to detail. They are drawn to you because there’s this sense of authority around you. And they know it’s because you’re smart and intelligent, and they feel like a fool for underestimating you. They’re attracted and want to know more, and it humbles them. People feel humbled when they’re around you. Its the way you communicate effectively and precisely yet throw in a joke or two. Easy. And people admire your fluid sense of communication. And the cadence of your voice, your expressive eyes. All of it.

Aries—People are attracted to you because of your ability to sit back and enjoy, yet get to work and grind. You’re not afraid of getting your hands dirty, and people find this liberating. They find it liberating to be around you because they don’t feel judged in doing the same. There is a sense of wearing your heart on your sleeve even if it’s been hurt. Your resilience in accepting what was—and honoring your imperfections is what inspires others. Your sense of accomplishment, purpose, and freedom is what inspires others too. Your authority and need to be on-top is also what instills fear in others, because they know stepping on your toes won’t end pretty. People are attracted to your efficiency, your energy. It’s like fireworks. Sparkling yet looming and ominously beautiful. It comes with a thunder too. So people are attracted to the way you take up space without an apology. Authentically being yourself. Thriving in your communities.

Taurus—Ever so slow and calculating. Yet undeniably beautiful and effortless. Your charm is what sways others first, they are called in by your presence. There is a sense of boldness yet undeniable gentleness in the way you handle your heart. And people are attracted to both sides of you. The grounded, stern and reasoning side. And the side that nurtures and holds space, and allows for growth. You’re like spring. Sewing in the seeds for a better future, laying down beds of soil. Letting the sun shine. Letting yourself rain when ready. People admire your process of growth and healing, and find themselves also feeling safe to experience their growth around you too. Your words of wisdom are strong and hold a sense of firmness. It feels unshakeable. This comforts others because it sounds less of a question, and more of a statement. You’re affirming what people like to hear. And it’s smart. Because it works. People are attracted to you like moths to a flame. I think apart of you is very good with your word, you say it when you mean it, and only say it when necessary. So people find themselves wanting to know more of your thoughts. What is your view on xyz, because there is something poetic about how you speak too.

Libra—Your sense of freedom is what draws people in. Your ability to let loose and bring down peoples walls is powerful. When people are around you they feel as though you are a social butterfly. You’re always engaged in something even if it’s small. You’re apart of some community and people view you as intelligent, loyal to your work, and yet sweet and funny. People find themselves gravitating to your open energy because when they are with you, they feel they can put their cards on the table. And sometimes you think it’s their mistake of being so open, because now you can read them. Now you can understand them deeper. And although you radiate an open energy, there is still something undeniably unbridled and unsettling about you. Maybe it’s the look you give people when you realized you caught onto something they said, whereas others ignore it. Maybe it’s in the way you discreetly make a joke about your life, and people find themselves asking for clarification. Only for you to hide it. People are drawn to the personas you play at work, and in social settings. They feel as though there is something more to you yet can’t put their tongue on it.

Thanks sm for reading yall! Very poetic post 👀 in the meantime I’ve rested up pretty well during the weekend indulging in leon kennedy edits lmao. My man. Enjoy yall.

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Paid readings 🤍

[darlingdaisyfarm]

👁️⃤ evil!Ford x reader

author note: okay im sorry for post spamming but this idea been sitting in my mind for too long and I had to write smth about it, would be glad to read your opinion on that Ford x reader dynamic!^^

so this is a bit of an au situation where evil!Ford is working with Bill now. in this version, reader is Ford’s former ex partner, someone who used to be close enough to him to know his work better than anyone else, including the equation Bill wanted from Ford in canon. Although here Ford doesn’t know the equation anymore, but you do

You’re trapped.

The chair beneath you creaks when you try to move, your wrists aching from the coldness of the handcuffs that keep your hands pinned behind your back. Your breathing is shallow from fighting, your throat feels dry from screaming, but you keep your head high. Defiance in your eyes, even as Stanford’s gaze burns holes through you.

He sits across from you with his legs spread wide and his elbows resting on his thighs, watching you. You squint, noticing a little glow of that infernal symbol on his wrist. Bill’s mark, his new goddamn religion. 

“You’re only making this harder for yourself, darling.”

You don’t answer, you won’t give him the satisfaction.

Ford leans back in his chair, tilting his head as his eyes drag slowly over you. “Still playing the martyr, i see,” he drawls, unable to hold sarcastic laugh. “you always did have a flair for the dramatic.”

“Fuck you,” you spit.

“Oh, but, sweetheart,” he says, standing now. “you don’t get it, do you? you can’t win this.”

“You think you’re protecting them,” Stanford continues. “Stanley, the twins. You think they’ll thank you for this? For your stubbornness?”

“You won’t touch them.” you answer through clenched teeth. 

Ford crosses the room in a few strides, towering over you now and it feels like his shadow is swallowing you whole. His hand comes up to grip your chin, forcing your face upward to look at him and you don’t recognise him, instead of your Ford, it’s a shadow of a man who’s sold his soul, body and mind, to something far worse than the nightmares you’re used to. Ford digs his fingers into your skin.

“Just tell me the equation, that’s all i want. you give me what i need, and this—” his eyes flick down to the cuffs, to the bruises blooming on your wrists, “—this ends.”

“Go to hell.”

His grip only tightens, and his jaw clenches. For a moment, you think he might snap, might lose that careful control he prides himself on. But to your surprise, he lets out a low, bitter laugh, releasing your chin and pacing a step away.

“Always so stubborn, it’s admirable, in a way. Stupid as fuck, but admirable. But we both know i can make you talk.”

Before you can react, his hand is in your hair, yanking your head back sharply. You gasp, your neck arching painfully as his face appears damn close you feel his breath against your lips. God, this is not how you imagined kissing Ford. Not after he joined Bill Cipher.

“What’s with that fear in your pretty eyes? I won’t bite, not unless you ask.” 

“Fuck. . . you,” you say again, but the words sound weaker this time and you hate the fact that even after Ford Pines isn’t the man you remember, you still feel attached to him.

Noticing your hesitation, Stanford’s lips curl into a smirk, and then he’s kissing you, if you can even call it that. Ford is forceful, rough, demanding, his kiss is nothing gentle, his other hand grips your jaw to keep you in place he takes what he wants, biting your lips, his tongue sweeping into your mouth and he groans when you make a pathetic muffled sound.

When he pulls back, your lips are swollen and you swear you can taste the metal, your skin burns from how hard he squeezed it.

“I can do this all night,” Ford trails his long fingers down the side of your neck, brushing the pulse that races beneath your skin. “You’ll give in eventually. . . they always do.”

“I hate you.” but you don’t believe your own words.

That truly makes Ford laugh, the way you say it so dead serious, with that cute glare when you both know it’s not like that. 

“Hate me?” he repeats in mockery, as if the very idea is absurd. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling your head back to force your eyes to meet his. “Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night, sweetheart?”

You glare up at him, biting down on the words that threaten to spill from your mouth.

“Funny. That’s not what my muse showed me. Not in your little head, darling.” he talks, savouring every word, enjoying your reaction as you already have panic written all over your face. “let me tell you, in there, you’re begging for it, desperate for me to fuck you.”

Your heart slams against your ribs and the air seems to vanish from your lungs. 

“All those filthy little thoughts you try so hard to hide. I had no idea my ex-lab partner was such a slut?”

You feel mad and humiliated at same time, your face burns, but you clench your jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, sweetheart, we both know exactly where it’s gonna get you.”