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#god i love those little touches so good
guardian-angle22 · 1 year
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The 126 + hobbies/interests | TK & sports + music (pt. 2)
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lunarrolls · 10 months
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i cannot fucking overstate how much i love fcg’s reasoning for helping the gods btw. they don’t want to save them because they believe in them, though they do—they want to save them because, deep down, the purpose they’ve always had, always wanted to have, is to help. he wants to save the gods because they’ve asked for his help, and in turn, he believes that they’ll be able to help more people across exandria. he believes that if he helps, the gods will pay that favor back and help others too. and i just. dear god i love that. fcg recklessly and relentlessly chooses kindness and seems to have come back even more determined to do so after their detour in wildemount and i absolutely cannot wait to see it
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Tayston =‘]
#been meaning to draw smthing like this for a minute#i.e. tayston kiss where maybe simultaneous laughing / [smiling As Good As a laugh] is getting in the way of that kiss but not a problem rly#didn't really want to have to choose between taylor smiling harder / laughing aloud Or Not so i didn't choose between them#winston billions#tayston#corned beef#why Not include affectionate touches but you can believe the hands are also included to emphasize the [heads together Heart Shape] too#yes winston's as undressed as taylor yes i included his glasses b/c i felt like it. might have put them back on after awhile w/o them; might#have only Just removed a tee w/enough room in the collar to not dislodge his glasses as he did so; or i can't stop anyone from imagining#that just out of frame on his shoulder we could see like a spaghetti strap to a tank top. god bless#i also went ''am i gonna be more like subtle/muted or w/e & Not include little sparkles / hearts'' then 5 min later was like lol as though#you Know i'm gonna do it (include the little sparkles and/or hearts)#oh my god lmfao again also with the bi palette. definitely separate pink purple blue in there. all Except the yellow highlights...#like not that that happens accidentally lol like ofc i'm selecting colors to my tastes & who doesn't love blue/pink/purple like what a team#but only after the fact do i recall the bonus lol....Could've ended up say; Not using one of those three colors....but here we are#have been working on this for....nights#me at 5am last night like haha i'm Almost done but better save it for later#and in this final stretch i have definitely been at it since uhh. well it's now two a.m. and i started in on this pre sunset est#not that it was Constant work w/o frequent breaks lol but the lack of sustained focus is itself kind of that constant factor l o l#so it goes. just glad to post it early enough for some other taystonheads to get to see it Now. happy pride
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corvidshipping · 2 years
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i was so convinced i was gonna be in a glam rock band when i was a kid too. my dad was always like this huge rockstar in my eyes (bc he is a musician and i grew up listening to him play and talk abt band stuff and be in diff bands throughout my childhood) and i was always so insistent to him that he teach me to absolutely SHRED on guitar but. the issue with that. is that. my dad does not play guitar. he plays bass. and keyboards. so he’d tell me he couldn’t teach me guitar and i’d need lessons for that but he could teach me bass. and i’d look at him and with all the dead seriousness a 5 year old in a hannah montana pajama set can muster be like. well can i still be in whitesnake if i play bass. and he’d be like well i think they already have a bassist but yeah most bands need one. and i was like GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME IM GONNA KICK OUT WHITESNAKES BASS PLAYER AND TAKE OVER. i was maybe a little megalomaniacal as a kid
incidentally i never learned to play bass. i am learning keyboards though :D
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gojonanami · 4 months
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will literally send you small bottles of my eyelashes to make wishes on if you write some of these men being subs
𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐒 - ft. nanami, geto, gojo, & choso
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warnings: nsfw, 18+, tying up, blindfolds, handjobs (m! receiving), riding, oral (m! receiving), edging (m! receiving), overstimulation
a/n: *adds small bottles of eyelashes beside bottles of tears* i have a collection now :)
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NANAMI
“sorry gojo, nanami’s a little tied up at the moment,” you have his phone pressed between your cheek and shoulder, as you run your fingers down his chest, watching his muscles twitch under your touch, “yeah I’ll tell him to call you back, bye,”
kento can only look up at you helplessly, his arms tied above his head by his own black dotted tie, his button up undone and hanging off his body, his cheeks deliciously flushed for you.
“should’ve have let gojo heard you earlier, begging for me,” you lean down, ghosting your lips across his jaw, “but you would’ve liked that wouldn’t you, kento?”
“no…I wouldn’t—“ and you tsk him, the click of his belt sending a shiver through his body, as he grits his teeth, “please, can you—“
“that sounded like a demand, nanamin,” you undo the button of his slacks and tug them down, your eyes fixed on the tent in his boxers, “and I don’t think you’re in any state to make those, are you?” And your question is punctuating by a finger tracing over his erection.
a hiss leaves his lips, as his blue gaze pierces you, “please, touch me,”
and you smile, as you pull his boxers away, your lips kissing his weeping slit, your fingers grasping the base of his hard cock, “of course, kento.”
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GETO
“no wonder gojo likes to wear these,” your lips brush over his left ear, tongue tracing the outer part before drawing a circle around his gauge earring, making suguru swallow thickly, “heightens all your other senses,”
“don’t think that’s why he wears one, sweetheart,” his words leave his lips slowly, doing his best to keep his voice steady — how cute.
you’d fix that in a moment.
“well that’s why I have one on you,” your fingers trace over his bare stomach, lips kissing down his body, before your tongue drags over his abs, “look at you - special grade geto suguru — at my mercy. spread out all for me,” and his cock twitches, teeth baring down on his bottom lip, “don’t act like you don’t love it, sugu, your body betrays you,”
And your thumb and forefinger toy with his nipples, pinching it, drawing a short gasp from his lips, “stop—“
“you don’t want me to stop, do you?” you lean away, and it’s a point of pride for him — he didn’t want to beg, he couldn’t. but god, fuck, he was so hard, “we all have base desires, suguru — even sorcerers,” you climb into his lap, straddling him, the only thing separating his cock from your needy cunt being his already far too soaked boxers.
“fuck—“ he’s trying to touch you, but you catch his wrists, “princess—“
“tell me what you want,”
even with the blindfold, you knew he’s glaring, “you know what I want,”
“use your words,” and you grind down on him, making him groan.
“please, fuck me,” your lips curl, as you tug down his boxers and sink onto his leaking cock.
“good boy.”
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GOJO
“you don’t usually have a problem talking, so talk,” you press kisses to his jaw, “oh but you got your mouth full don’t you?” your fingers run over the panties you have stuffed in his mouth. Drool left the corners of his pretty pink lips, his eyes blown out with pleasure from the numerous times you had brought him so close to climax.
only to pull away.
“look at you, spread out for me in your expensive little chair — imagine what the higher ups would think of you — the strongest sorcerer all fucked out by my touch? so fucking close to bursting from a single touch,” your pointer finger ran over his twitching cock, “do you wanna cum, Toru?”
and you ease the panties from his mouth, “fuuuck, please, baby,"
"please what, toru? i've already given you so much, you're so greedy," you press your lips to his, swallowing his protests and his whines, as he tries and fails to find any friction against you, but you're woefully out of reach, "look at you, your cock is so pretty like this — all flushed, just like your cheeks," your fingers trace over his cheek bones and the bridge of his nose, "and all f'me? i'm so lucky,"
"please," he's panting, head tilted back.
"please, what?" you lean close, as your fingers reach for his dick, but stop short.
"let me cum, please, I need to—with your hands, your mouth, I don't—" and he's gasping as you climb into his lap, your dripping folds above his cock.
"the only place you're cumming, Toru, is in my cunt."
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CHOSO
how many times has choso come already? four, five, seven?
you'd lost track. and so had choso from the looks of him. he's laid back, panting, as your lips and tongue clean up the cum he'd spilled on himself. god, he tastes utterly too good for his own good.
"made such a mess again, choso," you chide gently, as he whines, his thighs shaking from your treatment, his purple eyes clouded over with lust as they flutter open, "such a good boy for me though,"
he's whining, "please, love, i can't—" he's shaking his head, sweat dripping down his body, as he's already so hard again, red and leaking pre-cum, already jerking when you've barely moved to brush against his cock again, "it's too much,"
"do you have one more for me, sweet boy?" you whisper quietly, waiting for the safe word that never leaves his lips, as his teeth find his bottom lip, a sharp inhale as he nods. and you're trying so hard not to swallow him whole -- pressing your thighs together to hold yourself back, before your mouth sinks onto him again.
he's jerking forward, his violet eyes watching you part your pretty lips for him, letting his cock enter your mouth, and it's all too much, too soon. "can i please, I want to--" his hands reach for your head and you look up and nod, bobbing your head more steadily, as his fingers find purchase in your hair, as whines and gasps leave his lips.
"feels so good, baby," tears in his eyes, he's begging, "please, please, i'm so close, i can't--" and you suck on his cock as your tongue swirls around the length, and he's cumming hard and fast down your throat, as he pants, out of breath, as you pull yourself from his length, a string of saliva and cum dripping down your mouth.
he watches with glazed over eyes and his chest heaving, as you kiss your way up his spent body, "such a pretty boy f'me. all for me."
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a/n: i was gonna write full length fics but i figured with how long my wip list is, i better be a little more judicious with my time lol - i hope you all enjoyed <3
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coqvttes · 6 months
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୨୧― KINKTOBER: ❝KNOCKED UP❞ ― KENTO N.
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― ꒰ BREEDING ✰ KINKTOBER M.LIST ꒱ ―
୨୧˚ synopsis: after getting turned on from seeing you being domestic in the kitchen, your doting husband is definitely not stopping until he's sure you're pregnant !
୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw 16+ only, breeding, p in v, petnames, praise, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!kento, fingering, tummy bulge, creampie, teasing, lmk if i forgot anything!
୨୧˚ wc: 1.4k (sorry it’s not proofread)
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your doting husband, kento just couldn't help himself when he saw you fussing around in his little kitchen. the enchanting smell of fresh pancakes had stirred him from his sleep in the bedroom, and he wondered what you were up to when he noticed that his wife's spot on the bed was empty. appearing in the doorway of the kitchen in his briefs, he freezes as he sees you prancing around in the kitchen. taking in the sight of you. 
there you are, sporting the linen workshirt he wore yesterday, styled with your cute little apron over it. clearly, you aren't wearing anything underneath the shirt, save for your cute lacy panties that he just loves so much.
he ponders if he should just take you right there. bend you over the worktop push those panties of yours to the side and make love to you like last night. you just look so gorgeous and domestic like this, waking up early just to change into HIS clothes to cook him HIS breakfast in HIS kitchen. how can he resist the temptation? god, sometimes he thinks you do it on purpose just to rile him up. and it works. 
"good morning, kento," the sound of your sweet voice forced him out of his perverted thoughts and his eyes met with your gentle ones. you were holding a delicate plate of freshly made pancakes, just for him with that sweet smile on your face. warmth filled his heart as he looked at you with adoration and lust. 
"g'morning, darling," he says in that sexy morning voice of his. your mouth almost waters at the sight of him. hair tousled, shirtless and a tired smirk on his handsome face. he notices the way you stare at him and he doesn't know how it happened but he's approaching you, pulling you in by the waist for a sweet kiss, sealed with passion and devotion. 
"you look too good in that shirt and cute little apron of yours," he groans, hands slipping down your hips to grab onto your arse. you squeal as he unexpectedly lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, your palms flat against his chest. 
"w-what about breakfast?" he chuckles at your concern and grins. 
"who needs breakfast when i have you, hm?" he chuckles, carrying you back into the bedroom, you giggle as he plops you down on the bed, climbing over you. his fingers play with the strands of your hair before he speaks.
"god, you're so perfect in my shirt. so pretty for me, hm? all mine, aren't you?" his fingers slide under the shirt as he kisses you, caressing you tenderly before moving up further to grope your tits. he smiles into your lips as he feels how hard your nipples are for him, pinching and tugging at them gently, eliciting a choked whine from your throat.
"all yours, kento," your voice is breathy, so desperate for his touch. he skillfully unbuttons the shirt and peels it off of you, letting the cool air blow over your now bare torso. your fingers tangle in his blonde locks as he envelops your nipple in his warm mouth. you mewl softly from the stimulation whilst he gazes at you through his eyelashes, you look so heavenly like this. 
releasing your wet nipple he moves lower down your body. as he spreads your legs, exposing the wet stain on your panties, he chuckles. he ducks down and presses his lips against your clothed cunt. his pointer finger slips under the lace, pulling it down your legs, revealing your needy cunt.
"fuck, darling, let me put a baby into you, hm? make you mine forever? would you like that?" he asks, his slender fingers, slipping into your hole slowly. you nod profusely, choking on your words as he stuffs you full with his digits. sliding them in and out of you slowly, he curls his fingers to tease that sweet spot inside of you that makes your walls clench around him.
"use your words, sweetheart." 
"yes, yes! wan' your babies, kento. wan' it so bad. wan' to be yours forever-!" you babble mindlessly, completely unaware of how much your words are affecting him right now. the thought of having kids with you and how much you want it too, makes his dick so hard. his heart is beating fast as the phrases truly sink into his mind.
with that, he withdraws his now slick-covered fingers, before lowering his head down, capturing your plump lips with his. your hand moves down between your bodies to palm his bulge through his briefs. he pulls away from your lips and groans with how painfully hard he is and he tugs his briefs off, dropping them onto the floor carelessly. 
your eyes are fixated on his cock that yearns to be inside of your warmth. he pumps his length a few times, drops of precumming spilling out of his sensitive tip as he slowly lines himself up with your drooling entrance. you mewl out lewdly as he pushes himself in, filling you up completely and your palms fly up to his shoulders for purchase. 
your thankful he prepped you a little bit earlier otherwise you're not so sure if you could take him in one go like this. after a few heartbeats, he rolls his hips slightly, his pelvis rubbing against your puffy clit and you moan softly. 
he picks up the tempo, his thrusts now faster and harder as the room echoes with the sounds of your pleasure and the bed creaking. his strong arms move your legs up to rest on his broad shoulders, making the position more intimate but most importantly, making it easier for him to go deeper.
his eyes are fixed on the way your cunt keeps sucking him in, the way you can see his bulge in your tummy and the way you look at him with those adoring doe eyes. he dips his head down to seize your lips in a kiss.
the kiss was gentle and innocent compared to the sinful actions being committed with each of his powerful thrusts. with every single drag of your tight cunt against his dick, constantly clenching around him deliberately which forced out a long string of groans as he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge.
"k-kento!" 
he dotes on the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name in a choked whisper, your nails clawing down his back. your cunt pulsing around his cock. your juices spilling from your hole as he thrusts into you like there's no tomorrow.
“that feel good, darling?” the rumble of his voice against your ear makes you shiver slightly. 
"can't wait to see your tummy swollen with my babies in you, you'll look so gorgeous."
“mmm—!” moans and whines bubble up in your throat as a response to his teasing words. the thought of having his children makes your mind go fuzzy and your heart swell. you want it more than anything. 
“i love you, sweetheart,” he coos, pulling away from your neck to look into your eyes. his husky voice, how close his lips are, the lust evident in his gaze, it all makes your mind go fuzzy. 
"i love you, kento! love you s'much!" you cry as you cream around his cock, cunt tensing around him which pushes him over the edge too. he lets out a broken moan as his warmth fills you up. he stays inside of you for a few moments, not wanting his cum to go to waste. 
"mmm, can't wait for you to get pregnant, sweetheart," he confesses, pulling you into his arms as he lays down on the mattress.
“i think the pancakes are cold,” you pout, turning your head to look up at him through your lashes and he chuckles down at you.
"that's alright, darling... i've already had my meal, haven't i?"
oh yes, he has...
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‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ all works belong to © coqvettes 2023. i do not give permission to claim, translate or copy any of my works. reblogs are appreciated!
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forlix · 4 months
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· . ˚ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞
— the little mannerisms you pick up from the members of stray kids over the course of your relationship.
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words・3.7k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / genres・fluff, humor, borderline crack, intentional lowercase, established relationship(s) / warnings・minsung’s are suggestive, touch of anxiety in felix's, jeongin's is lowkey gross LMFAO
a/n・massive shoutout to @/http.dwaekkii on tiktok for their edits about the boys' habits, which i consulted for chan, changbin, seungmin, and jeongin (and to @astraystayyh for beta reading hehe. what would i do without u). these were sooooo fun to write, hope u guys enjoy (。˃ ᵕ ˂ )
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chan + getting shy easily. poor thing gets embarrassed so quickly as it is. throw you into the mix and it’s just critical hit after critical hit. defense lowered. no health potions left. he folds like a lawn chair with a massive smile and a whiny “stooooop” every time you say something even remotely affectionate. the habit is adorable, and you love it to pieces.
but you like poking fun at it even more. “god forbid i find my literal underwear model of a boyfriend attractive,” you’d say, or something along those lines, which of course only triples his embarrassment and on more than one occasion results in him starfishing on your kitchen floor, his hood pulled over his face.
fast forward however many months. he’s still the worst compliment-receiver you know, but you discover one arbitrary afternoon that it’s rubbed off on you.
the two of you are cuddled together on the living room couch in your usual fashion, your legs thrown over his thighs and his hands tracing absently over your shins as you relay to him something you overheard on the subway. the conversation is painfully normal. you’re almost bored. you pause to take a breath, and he murmurs, out of nowhere, in the dreamiest tone: “so damn beautiful.”
“wha—huh? what is?”
“you. your voice, your face, everything. i‘m lucky.”
your expression of bewilderment persists for around ten seconds, and then slowly, so slowly, you begin to sandwich your head between your knees, balling yourself up like a spooked armadillo. chan wonders if he should call an ambulance.
“love?” no response. “what, uh, what’s happening right now, exactly?”
no response. no response. then, hoarsely, “you can’t...say shit like that…randomly.”
he notices two things after that. one, your skin is burning hot enough to fry something upon, and two, you’ve formed a fist in the fabric of his hoodie, which you only do when you’re pretending to be annoyed at him. the puzzle pieces fall into place, and he starts grinning like a madman.
“you’re…embarrassed?”
the guttural groan you emit is more than enough of an answer, and the cute aggression that overcomes chan is fucking debilitating. he wraps his arms around you and hauls you entirely off the couch and onto his lap, littering kisses over your face until it finally resigns into a matching smile. all intent to continue feigning grumpiness erased with the drop of a hat. you drape an arm over his neck.
“you’re so good to me, channie,” you sigh helplessly. “i love you.”
“love you more, baby.” he imprints these words directly upon your lips, then pulls away, giggles. “that was very me of you, by the way.”
“i know, right? i was just about to say.”
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minho + butt touching. it’s quite simple, really. if lee minho is within proximity of someone’s buttocks, he will, as he lives and breathes, make it known. will it be a coy little swat or a yelp-eliciting, full-bodied grab? nobody ever knows, not even him. the unpredictability is what makes it exciting.
but it takes a while before this starts applying to you, because the way minho touches you is…different. doting. there’s no other way to describe how he always holds the nape of your neck while kissing you, how he rests a hand against the small of your back whenever he leads you somewhere, how during the nights you can’t sleep he guides you to the place on his chest where he knows his heartbeat is loudest. he even drags you into his trademark headlocks the same way one would hold an invaluable treasure. he’s so obsessed with all of you that he never thinks to pay just your butt special attention (though it is, indeed, a special butt).
you take it into your own hands. literally.
you don’t know what prompts it—maybe you’ve simply seen minho slap his members’ asses one too many times, or maybe you’re still thinking of the specific time minho slapped changbin’s ass in passing and it fucking echoed, or maybe minho just looks especially fine in this practice outfit, a skintight tee and washed sweatpants that hug him in all the right places—but you feel a new urge today as your boyfriend swings his duffel over his shoulder, circles around the kitchen counter.
he puckers up as he nears you, silently requesting his goodbye; you give it to him, relishing for a moment in the familiar, soft plush of his lips beneath yours. then he pulls away and turns to leave, and your hand acquires its target.
“go get ‘em, tiger.” thwack!
minho jumps a foot into the air. clutches his pearls and his left butt cheek. becomes the splitting image of that perplexed blonde lady surrounded by geometry.
but when he turns around to stare at you, the smirk melting across his face betrays how he really feels about what you’ve just done. good. really good.
you, meanwhile, look genuinely confused. “it’s like it moved on its own.”
minho beams. steps towards you daintily, intentionally, like a cat catching sight of a laser beam. brings a hand to your hip, murmurs, “that’s what we’re doing now?” kisses you again, for longer this time.
you fully foresee his fingers wandering to your ass to give it a gentle squeeze, but you reach up to cuff his shoulder when it happens anyways, and his laugh vibrates against your mouth. it seems you’ll be reaping what you’ve sown from now on.
(good luck.)
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changbin + the Cackle™. yes, you said something exceptionally funny. yes, you expected changbin to find it funny too. but you couldn’t expect the godforsaken noise that left his mouth as he threw himself straight into the tree planter behind you.
your mind spun with frantic questions as you helped him out of the dirt. had the spirit of spongebob just usurped his vocal cords? were you on a date with the wicked witch of the west? most importantly—
“are you well?” you sputtered, which only made him laugh harder and his laugh so much crazier, so you started laughing, too. and you were goners, falling over each other until you’d been reduced to watery eyes and sore cheeks, your giggling interrupted only by the sound of you slapping his thigh every so often, heartily enough to reverberate around the little park in which you concluded your second date.
that’s how you fall for seo changbin: laughing. with a reckless, breathless abandon you didn’t think possible. stumbling across empty sidewalks, spitting noodles across dining tables, begging for mercy on studio couches. wrestling under tear-stained comforters, starting (and re-starting) silly stories, huffing into beaming kisses. the list goes on.
you never quite get used to that chortle of his, too busy enjoying its insanity to notice how your own chuckles grow shorter and shriller, how they gradually develop an edge like the chittering of a forest dweller.
you complete your transformation on your ninety-eighth date. 
no, changbin doesn’t say anything exceptionally funny. no, he doesn’t expect you to find it funny, either. he expects least of all for you to fold over the kitchen island and start cackling like cruella de vil on helium.
han turns around from his seat on the couch. chan’s footsteps come to a halt as he emerges from the bathroom. both of them have fear in their eyes as they witness your undoing.
the only thing on changbin’s face, though, is unfettered delight.
“b-baby,” he sputters with a growing smile. “are you—”
you lift your face off the marble surface and turn to face him. the entirety of your forehead and the point of your nose is covered in flour. you blow a cloud of the stuff out of your mouth like a dragon awoken from slumber.
he loses it.
the two of you make your way onto the floor in slow motion, ending in a tangled heap against the side of the counter. changbin tries to clean off the flour and smears it all over your cheeks instead. you are zero help whatsoever, smacking his bicep like that’ll help you catch your breath. your synchronized, diabolical laughter reaches every corner of the apartment. your happiness reaches every nerve ending.
chan and han look at each other, sigh. han takes a video.
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hyunjin + side-eyeing. this man is so god awful at controlling his face, bless him…and DAMN HIM.
on one hand, you love how in tune with his emotions he is, how confidently he puts them on display. and you love your synergy. you come closer to believing in soulmates every time you glance his way and discover your exact feelings written all over his features; it’s a special type of happiness, sharing a brain with your favorite person in the world.
on the other hand, you think there’s a time and place for candor, and he tends, well, not to think at all. during many a precarious situation, you’ll catch him wearing an expression so transparent that he might as well arrange the words THIS IS STUPID AND I HATE ALL OF YOU over his head in neon lights. cue a dig of your heel into his toe, a hiss of pain cut short by your piercing glare. if you’d known ahead of time that dating hwang hyunjin would have you doing so much damage control…you’d still date him, let’s be real. but you do get stressed at times.
the night the tables turn, you’re at a celebratory dinner for your coworker’s birthday. small caveat: you can’t stand her. she’s the type to spontaneously combust if she goes two minutes without talking about herself. certainly doesn’t help that she’s downing champagne like water, and her lips are looser than ever.
hyunjin comes with you, fortunately. or not. he spends the whole evening trying so hard not to laugh: snorting into his bread, excusing himself to “cough.” you think he actually starts doing breathing exercises at some point. you’re so, so grateful that he’s here, but you’re also deathly afraid that he’s gonna bring out those neon lights in front of your entire office.
then, she flirts with him.
from the opposite end of the table. perfectly wasted but still knowing perfectly well that he’s yours. the whole patio goes silent. hyunjin’s jaw hits the table.
your fork clatters to your plate.
FUCK time and place.
the side-eye you give her is devastating. truly masterful. your brow furrows. your eyes turn to slits. your gaze does the up-down-up of unadulterated incredulity. hyunjin recognizes the motions straightaway and starts smiling so hard his whole face hurts.
you take your boyfriend’s wrist and stand up. he follows suit. you don’t say a thing as you leave the restaurant, and you don’t have to. the intensity of your disdain was more than enough; anything more and she might’ve started crying.
once you’re on the curb outside, hyunjin pulls on your interlocked hands, brings you close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear. you hear laughter and his smirk in his voice.
“you’re so fucking sexy, holy shit.”
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jisung + how he applies lip balm. that han jisung is the pioneer of modern day babygirlism is the worst kept secret in the world. that han jisung applies lip balm the riveting way he does, however, is unknown even to you. until one morning.
you pop into the bathroom and make your usual beeline for your toothbrush, only to end up motionless in front of the sink, staring. jisung is a bit off to the side, hair pinned back by a cinnamoroll headband, eyes glued to his phone, hand holding a tube of chapstick that you can actually see getting shorter in real time. he looks so pensive, so concentrated. how long has it been since he last blinked? you’ve half a mind to pull out a stopwatch.
finally, he rubs his lips together, recaps the chapstick, and makes eye contact with you in the mirror. a smile crosses his face, equal parts confused and amused.
“baby, your mouth is open.”
you close it. then you open it again, and your words come out in a barely-contained laugh: “what on earth did you just do?”
“what do you mean?”
“the—” you point at his mouth, then do your best impression of an elementary schooler trying to color inside the lines. “—that.”
jisung looks aghast. “that was LIP BALM.”
“no, i know what it—you’re so—i meant, why do you apply it like that?”
jisung continues to look aghast. “like what?”
“like you’re one of socrates’ prized pupils and the answer to the universe’s formation lies at the bottom of—” you step in close, reach into the pocket of his sweatpants. “—this tube!”
it might be the craziest thing you’ve ever said to him. he bursts into laughter, the kind that leaves him no recollection of what he does with his limbs, and when he can see straight again he discovers he’s pressed you gently against the counter. his fingers latched around the hem of your top, his grin inches away from yours. can’t stay away from you to save his life, this one.
“do i actually?”
“yes! holy shit, it’s so cute.” your arms circle around his neck, also without an ounce of thought, also through a fit of giggles. “no way you’ve always done that, right?”
“i don’t know. i’ve never thought about it.” a pause. a tilt of his head, with purpose. “am i…doing it wrong?”
the question is a trap and you realize it too late. your gaze drops from his eyes to his lips—a ray of sunlight glistens off the pink plush like a paid actor—then back to his eyes. let’s find out.
you lean in. so does he. and his mouth tastes and feels like melted fucking sugar. it’s such a pleasant surprise that you actually moan, and he chuckles against you. lifts you onto the edge of the sink. your mind really goes empty after that, save for one thought. i have to start doing that.
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felix + checking his own pulse. you saw it from afar, the first time.
he stood by the stage’s entrance just before curtain up, pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of his neck. eyelids sealed closed, chest heaving. you tilted your head, puzzled. worried. then the concert began, and you pushed the image to the back of your mind.
it returned to the forefront right before bed.
“you do it when you’re nervous?”
“yeah. forces me to ground myself. turns off the world for a bit.” the hand rubbing circles into your back paused. “wanna give it a go?”
“what, checking my pulse?”
“mine.”
you lifted your head off the pillow. felix took your hand from where it sat upon his ribs, isolating two fingers and nestling them over his jugular. his quickened heartbeat pressed into your skin like the world’s gentlest tattoo.
the sixty seconds began and concluded in total silence.
“well?” he whispered.
“ninety-three,” you answered, lightheaded from the sheer intimacy of it all. “you’re nervous right now?”
“something like that,” he hummed. pulled you down, kissed you deeply. there were no more words exchanged that night.
the habit surfaced more than you knew. while driving to visit your parents. after a stupid argument with a bouquet of flowers tucked beneath his free arm. you started doing it for him in the times he couldn’t, and he’d cover your hand with his own and kiss the top of your head silently, gratefully.
two years have passed since, and you’ve vanished from the dinner table.
felix asks the nearest waiter for directions to the restrooms. you don’t notice when the door swings open, unmoving in your spot over the sink, your pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of your neck. 
his hand finds your hip. you let him turn you around and bring you to his chest; he glances at the crystalline droplets studding your lashes and falling from your cheeks. his eyes convey what his mouth doesn’t need to, not anymore.
let me.
you do.
his fingers replace yours the moment you drop them from under your jaw, the movement like clockwork. he counts your every heartbeat with unblinking concentration, his heart growing heavier the higher the number climbs.
the sixty seconds begin and conclude in total silence. 
“well?” you whisper.
“hundred and six,” he answers. to his confusion, a smile pulls at your lips. 
he wonders if it’s a trick of the bathroom lights when he sees the tiny box you pluck from your pocket, but there’s no mistaking the reality of the diamond ring that sits behind its open lid.
the earth slants under his feet.
“crazy.” you giggle through your tears, run your thumb over his cheekbone. “that’s how many years i want with you.”
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seungmin + poking eyes(?) he’s hardly touched puppym when your voice is slicing through the living room air like a fucking beyblade. 
“KIM SEUNGMIN, UNHAND HIM THIS INSTANT.”
do you have a sixth sense just for this? he throws his hands up in exasperation. “he’s literally me. i’m allowed to do whatever i want with me.”
“he’s not you, he’s our son.” you pop out of nowhere to swipe the plushie from over your boyfriend’s shoulder. “my son, if you keep this up.”
“just say you hate me and my preferred avenues of self expression.”
upside-down, he watches you dust off puppym’s face and smooch his forehead with a tenderness that makes seungmin unhappier than he lets on. you then tuck him into your jacket pocket. the little shit’s expression looks strangely smug poking out of its cotton capsule.
“i’m asking you to not gauge his eyes out, not to deliver me the holy grail,” you say. “you’ll survive.”
but then he feels your hands on either side of his face, and you lean over him like the mj to his peter, leave a kiss on the space between his eyes, too. he has zero say in the bashful smile this brings to his face.
“but why do you do that, seriously?” you mutter.
“i have no idea,” he replies. “but it’s fun. try it.”
“i’ll think about it.” you lean in again, and he nearly forgets what you were talking about in the first place when you kiss him on the lips this time. “okay, i’ve thought about it. no.”
“hate you,” he says despite the literal hearts in his eyes, and then you’re off to work.
puppym takes strikingly after his father. they have the same bangs. the same compulsively squeezable quality. the same little :3 that can only allude to sinister plottings. you’d be loath to admit that you sort of comprehend seungmin’s poking predisposition.
one night, seungmin falls asleep before you even finish your nighttime routine, and you spot in his peaceful, upturned face an opportunity.
you lie belly-down on your side of the bed. your fingers splay into a peace-sign in the air. your smile stretches further into a cheshire grin the closer you bring your hand. you’re just about to reach the ends of his eyelashes when—
“I KNEW IT!”
you almost catapult into the ceiling. then you try to make a mad dash for the bathroom. but seungmin shoots a hand around your wrist like he’s actually peter parker and pins you down before you so much as take a step. your only remaining option is to sulk about your foiled plans. (and blush, because, well, you’re under him.)
“amateur,” he tsks. “you gotta test my breathing to make sure i’m asleep first. shit’s foolproof.”
you blink at him for a few seconds. his words finally click.
now you almost catapult him into the ceiling.
“HOW MANY TIMES?”
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jeongin + eating food in one bite. so you might be an instigator.
“hwuck,” he grumbles around the whole ice cream cone in his mouth, face scrunched up in a brain-freeze-induced wince. “ayee ith waz a bah iyeah.” (translation: fuck, maybe this was a bad idea.)
“you got this. just take it slow,” you urge, except he’s stopped moving and speaking and closed his eyes as if he’s descending into a deep sleep. you’re actually concerned for about two seconds, and then his jaw begins to oscillate leisurely like an elderly cow in his favorite pasture. false alarm.
after some time, he swallows, beams. “so am i the fucking best or what.”
“yeah you are,” you echo, and he swings an arm over your shoulder, plants a chocolatey kiss on your temple. the two of you celebrate his daesangs with less enthusiasm.
“when are you doing that with me, by the way?”
“the one-bite thing?” he nods. “mmm, coaches don’t play.”
“mmm, this one will.”
“doubtful.”
fast forward a few weeks and you, jeongin, and his younger brother are sitting cross-legged on the porch in his backyard. three full-sized oranges rest in the center of your makeshift circle. damn is yoon hard to say no to. (runs in the family.)
“the rules!” he declares. “eat the orange whole! first to swallow it wins! you can’t spit it out!”
you wait. “is that it?”
“yes!”
why was the delivery so grand?
jeongin places a fond hand atop his brother’s head. “i’ve brought you a new loser, yoonie. get excited.”
you feign an indifferent scoff, but jeongin spots the fire that ignites behind your eyes like that of an anime protagonist, the resolute grip with which you palm your orange. he smirks. he’s never known you to take trash talk sitting down. or sitting cross-legged on his porch.
yoon counts you off. “ready…”
“good luck, coach,” jeongin sings.
“shut up, pipsqueak.”
“set…GO!”
in amusing unison, you and yoon try and fail to fasten your teeth around even half of the fruit. jeongin, meanwhile, fits the whole thing into his black hole of an oral cavity and launches into that dumb cow impression again.
desperate times call for desperate measures.
you rip the orange from your lips. “yoon! your brother’s ticklish, right?”
both yang siblings’ eyes widen—the younger’s in growing delight, the older’s in impending horror.
the latter reacts first. “ay, ay, ay, ah ahes eh ooles!” (translation: wait, wait, wait, that’s against the rules!)
but the former moves first, and you’re right behind him.
jeongin weakens when the younger boy assaults his sides, crumples when you target the back of his neck, the sounds leaving his mouth getting progressively louder and somehow even less intelligible.
he eventually has to spit out the orange to avoid death by pulp going down the wrong pipe and spins around in indignation, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. but his annoyance—
you’re back on the floor, gnawing hopelessly at the the orange again. “ih ih eawahin, ooh.” (translation: this is embarrassing, yoon.)
yoon replies, “huh?” (translation: huh?)
—dissipates, immediately.
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© forlix (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!
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prokopetz · 2 months
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Something I love about The Far Roofs is how much of a swerve its premise is if you're coming to it uninitiated.
Okay, so there's these talking rats with a culture of swashbuckling heroism – basic Redwall/Reepicheep stuff.
Also, there's a magical realm called the Far Roofs which exists above every human community, and that's where the rats go adventuring; a little weird, but you can see the precedents in popular fiction. It's like wainscot fantasy taken to its logical-yet-absurd conclusion.
By default, the game wants you to play as a fictionalised version of your (presumably human!) self and go up onto the Far Roofs to have adventures with the rats. All right, now it's coming together: it's like isekai fantasy meets The Muppet Show, with you as the obligatory human character, right?
Then we get to the nature of those adventures: the rats have this whole culture built around questing against beings they call "the Mysteries" – beasties with names like Harpy and Goblin and Unicorn. So basically it's a bunch of muppety rats on the roofs fighting Dungeons & Dragons monsters, and you go up and help them do it. Great.
And then you get to what the Mysteries are actually like, and... well, I'm going to let the following excerpt carry the weight here. (This particular bit of text also appears in a previously published work by the same author, so I'm not giving anything away that's still under wraps.)
Unicorn, which is named Numinous, dwells three steps away and beyond the world, but most often in the Farthest Roofs, where the Steppes of the Sky come down to touch the Vast and Earthen Court. There it is stepping upwards from the world, as it has always been stepping upwards from the world, caught in a moment of transcendent glory that does not complete. It simply is. Melanthios heard the footsteps of Unicorn. Melanthios heard the ringing of Unicorn’s bells. So Melanthios chased Unicorn off to the Farthest Roofs, and Melanthios did not return. Anton and Karel, who were his sons, were wiser than their father. They heard the bells but they did not follow. Instead, they memorized the scent. They gathered swords, and ropes, and nets, and they went out. They brought food and water and all manner of gear. They clung to the roofs with all four feet wheresoever after Unicorn they went. It proved no good. Anton looked up, and Karel to his brother. The world came down— That’s what Karel said. He had time to look away. He had time to bury his head in his paws. He did not see the fullness of Unicorn’s presence. He only saw Anton his brother become unreal. In the light of the moment of the Unicorn, Anton became as a paper figure in the fire. His reality burned out. His shadow seared into the roofs behind him. Where he’d stood, for just a moment, the Steppes of the Sky came down to touch the Vast and Earthen Court; and Anton was gone away. So Karel ran and Karel ran and Karel ran from the Unicorn; and all his life, he envied but was more fortunate than his brother.
These are gods. You're going up there to kill God.
Like, it's still silly wainscot fantasy with funny talking rats, but there's that tension. It's like if Fraggle Rock occasionally took a hard turn to serious cosmic horror – Lord Dunsany by way of Jim Henson – and that tonal juxtaposition was treated as something unremarkable.
Basically what I'm saying is go back The Far Roofs.
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feyascorner · 3 months
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Okay perhaps this sounds odd but imagine Astarion starts to disassociate while intimate with Tav and so he uses their established safe word, only to be bewildered when Tav actually listens to him and stops and asks if he’s okay and tries to comfort him because nobody has cared that much before 😢
OH GODS WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME (i love it) warning for suggestive content :)
For as long as Astarion's been genuinely intimate with you, for no other reasons but simply because of the affection the two of you hold for one another, he has always been in control.
It soothes him, in a way, to be on top. And as much as he enjoys watching you come undone beneath him, there's a more frustrating reason behind why he always feels the need to be the one to push you down onto whatever surface he deems decent enough at the time. From above you, he can see every little twitch in your body, every shift in your expression, and most of all, he can control what's happening, unlike his centuries spent as a seductive tool for Cazador's own needs.
He knows you're not like those fools. He knows you're different, and you're special to him. But the gnawing voice in the back of his head always forces him to pull you in, to hold you closer, to make love to you.
It's fucked up in so many ways.
"I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel."
But when you look up at him with those imploring, loving eyes, the voice seems to go quiet. He swallows the dryness of his throat, unable to think of anything but how wonderful your touch feels on his skin, and he thinks he could drown in this forever. He's putty in your hands, whether he wants to admit it or not.
"Well? Don't be a tease just standing there, darling."
In what feels like minutes, he's a mess. He's making sounds he shouldn't be making, fingertips digging into your hips as if they're the anchors keeping him from finishing too early. He breathes heavily into the crook of your neck, groaning when you caress the sharp tip of his ear between your fingers.
The only thing keeping him from spilling is the impending embarrassment he'd feel for doing so this early on in the night.
Then, everything stops.
"You're so beautiful," you whisper.
They're only words. They're not ones he's heard little of---in fact, he's heard it too much in the past two hundred years. In an instant, memories of the nights he spent under strangers, forced to shove his mind into its darkest corners just to get through their own pleasures, flood his consciousness. The sickening taste in his mouth afterward, and the need to rub his skin till it goes raw were not uncommon. It was routine. A sick part of his life that he'd rather forget.
You don't mean it the same way they did. They only said things like that because that's all they could say. They didn't know him as anything but the husk of a body he resided in. He knows you are saying the words to him. Not to his body but to the very person he is.
But the word comes spilling out his mouth, and immediately, you freeze.
You actually stopped.
Of course, you would. You're you.
"Are you okay? Did I do something?" you reach to cup either of his cheeks, and he stares at you as if you're a star that's fallen from the sky. He blinks, slowly.
"I don't know, I just---" he searches for words. "--you haven't done anything wrong, darling."
You wait for him to finish patiently. Gods, he doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve you.
"I only remembered something I'd rather not," he plasters a crooked grin on his face. "It's quite alright. We can continue now if I haven't ruined the mood."
You pull away from him, and he fears you'll leave.
Moments later, you return with a glass of water. Wordlessly, you hand it to him, and he only stares at it, confused beyond belief. Only once he notices the way you gesture to the glass does he drink it, and you finally climb back into bed, lying down beside him.
"Come here," you open your arm, motioning him to come closer.
"Darling, as much as I'm all for experimenting, that's a strange position to have sex in."
You smile, shaking your head. You don't explain any further, only continuing to hold out your arm.
Hesitant though curious, he slowly lies down beside you, his head just above your chest and slotted between the space below your chin. With gentle hands, you pull him closer and toss the blanket over both of your bodies.
It's warm. Strange, but warm.
"You don't have to wear a mask with me," you whisper.
His eyes grow wide, and his chest stills. He doesn't have many tears left after 239 years, but there's an unfamiliar squeeze in his chest that tells him if he were still 39 and alive, he might have. Astarion wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into where he can hear the steady beating of your heart.
Later, when your eyes begin to droop, he mumbles.
"Tell me I'm beautiful again."
"You're beautiful," you say softly. "With or without your pretty face."
You might be imagining it, but you feel him smile against your skin.
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griffonsgrove · 3 months
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omg hello!! I saw you post those vox headcanons and wow I was literally kicking my feet and giggling LOL. I also saw you take requests right now! (at least that’s what it said in your rules) and I wanted to request something : D
could I request general alastor headcanons with a GN! Reader please ? :D
Thank you!
General Dating Headcanons | Alastor
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a/n: Of course my dear!! I love how Alastor is portrayed in the series, he’s easily one of my favorite characters! I’ve been wanting to do these for quite a bit, so thank you for the request!
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Wordcount: 1991
Cw: Hazbin Spoilers, minor violence, mentions of death, murder
(PLATONIC):
Ah so you managed to capture the attention of the infamous Radio Demon? You should be honored he even considers you worth his time! Not most demons have that luxury, they never live long enough to see.
Al strikes me as the kind of guy who knows everyone, he’s very observant and has eyes everywhere (his shadow friends extend throughout the entirety of the pride ring). He’s got connections in just about anything. He’s bound to have at least seen you once.
That being said, he views other sinners as inferior to him, if you don't have any power, he doesn't really see you as much of a threat (let’s be honest even if you did, he still wouldn't feel threatened)
He’s quite intrigued when he sees a frail little thing like you walk through the hotel doors. You're here on your own free will, seeking redemption? Oh, this will be quite entertaining.
You’re well aware of who he is, having been in hell for quite some time, even before his 7 yearlong disappearance, you knew to be wary in his presence.
It often left you being timid or skittish around him at first.
The deer demon had a knack for popping up at the most inconvenient of times, out of nowhere it seems (perks of being able to shadow travel). He would scare the daylights out of you nearly every time. Whether it was intentional or not, it always got a good laugh out of him.
And that smile…He was always smiling, you can't ever recall a moment where he wasn't, not even a falter. It's definitely an intimidation tactic you think. After all, you're never fully dressed without one!~
Despite this, he’s a charmer. He has this flare about him that oozes confidence whenever he speaks with you, to anyone really. He’s able to talk his way into and out of anything. One of the many perks of being a showman. Alastor is witty, charming and entertaining to say the least. Life is never dull with him around.
And if you happen to be from the same time period?? It’ll only want him to be around you even more! Finally, someone he can relate to in this cesspool.
This man is quite the chatterbox. He looooves to reminisce about the good ol’ days, always talking about how things were in his radio days. He could talk for literal hours and not break a sweat. You’ll often have to politely interject when he rambles on for too long, not that he minds.
Did I mention he can cook too?? Really well, surprisingly. He claims he learned from his dearest mother. He had to put a name to her famous Jambalaya recipe! When you tried it for the first time your socks were nearly blown right off from how much cayenne pepper he put into it. He likes a little spice.
He's!! Always!! Humming!! The man loves to sing, he often finds himself absentmindedly humming old tunes from the 20’s as he goes about his day. Whether he’s out for a stroll, enjoying a nice cup of tea, or running around the hotel, he’s humming.
This has been stated before, but Alastor is not big on physical touch from others unless he's the one initiating it. There have been many times where he’s pulled you into a little dance or twirl while he explains something. It never fails to surprise you each time.
He’ll often use his microphone staff to push or touch something, more specifically someone. He doesn't like to touch sinners that often, God knows where they’ve been. You’ve seen him whack Angel upside the head with it before, the spider tried getting a little too close for comfort. But for you he’ll make an exception.
Very well groomed!! He puts a lot of effort into his appearance, and cares about how he projects himself to the public eye. His hair is always neatly styled to perfection, shoes shined, and is always dressed to the nines. I mean did you see how mad he got when Pentious ripped a part of his coat off?
As the two of you begin to spend some more time together, you find yourself often having little meetups, the both of you would chat, share a cup of tea and just enjoy each other’s company. He liked to sit on the patio, he had a little table, and everything set up for you two.
Alastor makes sure to keep an eye on you regularly. He may have his shadow sneak around and stalk you while you're out. He’ll use the excuse that ‘Hell is a dangerous place!’, He can't have some low-life sinner trying to harm you, that would make him a terrible friend!
Undeniably has a soft spot for you that he’ll never admit aloud, he genuinely enjoys your company and likes having someone around that will humor him and listen to his stories. Grandpa.
Overall, Al is quite a good friend to have, you feel like you can confide in him at any point, he’s surprisingly a wonderful listener. The more time you spend together only strengthens your little friendship. Even to the point where you both will grow to have a mutual respect for each other. He initially scared you at first, given his reputation, but underneath all the ruthless chaos is a true gentleman.
(ROMANTIC):
My man is sooo conflicted at first, He’ll spend hours in his den thinking about his feelings. (We’ve all seen the inside of his room, literally half of it is a swamp). The scenery can only soothe him so much as he contemplates on what to do.
This is probably where you will begin to less and less of him for a time being as he works out his inner turmoil.
But, once he finally comes to terms with these undeniable feelings, he decides to confront you privately, away from any prying eyes. Ahem Angel…
Very old-fashioned, this is where he will properly ask to court you. 
You’ll never know this but he was actually kind of nervous, he was worried you’d reject his offer, but imagine to his surprise when you said yes!! He kind of felt giddy.
Congratulations! You now have a cannibalistic deer overlord as your boyfriend
He’s such a gentleman, I literally cannot say it enough, the man was raised right and he respects you! 
You literally never have to open a door with him around. He holds your chair out for you, always walks on the outer side of the sidewalk, pays for every meal and is constantly giving you compliments left and right. And they say chivalry is dead.
Alastor loves to gift flowers to you. Every few weeks or so he’ll give you a new bouquet. They're different each time, some have a meaning while others he simply thought you’d enjoy. You have a special place in your room where you keep them.
Now that you’re in a relationship, the two of you are basically joined at the hip. Wherever you are, Alastor is not far behind. He doesn't want to admit it but the overlord is kind of clingy. He doesn't like being too far from you.
If there’s ever a reason he has to be away from you, he’ll often have a few of his little imp dolls watch after you. You always thought they were cute little fellas anyways.
The both of you aren't exactly private about your relationship, but at the same time you’re not screaming it out from the rooftops either. Alastor is well aware of the dangers you could possibly face due to his status. He’s made a lot of enemies in his time, and doesn't want to see you get hurt on his behalf.
That being said though, no demon in their right mind would try to threaten you.
God forbid they touch you either. They’d be ripped in half before they could even get another word out. 
He's fiercely protective over you. He tries to play it off as nonchalantly as possible, but you know he cares about you immensely, it’s rather sweet really.
Now about physical affection. Things will go very slowly in the beginning, as said before he's fine with things as long as he's the one initiating it. If you two are out for a stroll you’ll have your arm gently looped with his as you walk down the chipped sidewalks. You’ll have to be extremely patient with him, he’s not used to this “love” and “affection”
If you’re ever having a bad day however, he’ll slip out of his comfort zone for you, and allow you to hold onto him for as long as you please, in the privacy of your own room of course.
One of his favorite things to do with you, is to slow dance. There's something so intimate and special about it. It could be late into the evening, when everyone else had gone to their respective rooms for the night, If you listen closely though, you’ll hear the soft hum of music coming from Alastor’s den, he has you in his arms, the both of you gently sway in a slow waltz across the room to the quiet love songs emitting from his radio. It’s here that you truly savor these private moments with him.
Speaking of music, Al loves to sing to you. Oftentimes it may be a ballad or love song, and if you join in with him? He’ll fall for you even more. 
Cooking! He loves to whip up all his favorite dishes just for you, oftentimes you’ll help him in the kitchen, even if it’s the smallest thing. It's become an annual thing you two like to do together. He makes sure that you get only the best meat that this side of hell can provide.
He’ll often call you a mix of different pet names, here's a few of his favorites: Cher, Darling, Beloved, Dearest, Love, Mon Amour, Doll
Which btw on the topic of meat, Al is canonically a cannibal, he’ll often eat demon meat in his meals, and will have you try it at least once.
Admittedly has gotten slightly jealous of his own shadow. The mischievous thing was always trying to steal your attention away from him, oftentimes it would work, you would always give in and humor him, saying that ‘Even his shadow needed some loving too!’. With a strained smile, Alastor shoots a glare at the inky mass of himself, who just looks at him with a smug grin.
Will have you meet Rosie at least once. She’s one of his other closest friends, and a real sweetheart. At first she comes off as really scary and intimidating. but the more you get to know her, and she's for certain that you wont hurt her friend, she’s much more friendlier. 
You two actually bond together somewhat, having little chats about Alastor occasionally, or about her business.
It’s safe to say that this man would kill hundreds if not thousands for you. You have him wrapped around your little finger. If you ever have someone bothering you, they might as well already be dead, because this man will hunt them down like prey. And eat them too.
Honestly, Alastor as a lover is nothing short of wholesome. He’s so attentive and caring when it comes to you. Which is so refreshing to see, especially coming from one of hell’s most feared overlords. Things will most likely start of slow, but if you’re patient with him, all the hard work will be rewarded tenfold. He had initially thought the Princess of Hell’s Hotel was one of the biggest jokes of the century, but what he wasn't expecting was you to be one of the best things to come out of it. You both were cast down to suffer an eternal damnation in hell, but at least now you can endure it together <3.
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maeumi-jng · 4 months
Text
lipgloss and kisses
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pairing: enhypen x gn!reader
synopsis: he watches you put it on and he loves to take it off.
warnings: fluff, skinship, suggestive-ish for hyung line except sunghoon, swearing, humour levels: bad, proof read ig
library: enhypen bookshelf
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heeseung
one word. impatient.
heeseung obviously thought you looked good with lip gloss. in fact he thought you looked good in anything. lip balm, lipstick, lip oil, whatever that was... the reason behind it wasn't the product, it was you.
you just had such kissable lips. he had always thought so. even before you got together. heeseung liked you so much to the point any time you'd bring out some lip balm, all his attention would be focused on your lips. it was a bit strange, he couldn't deny that. but heeseung also couldn't help that you were just so captivating. the care you took to put it on, ensuring nothing escaped the borders and if it had, the swipe of your finger that tugged those pretty lips down... god... it was a lot.
honestly, you spent a lot of money on lip products. the reason? heeseung.
that man was always kissing you. on the bus, during your night routine, before bed, when you wake up, when you cleaned the dishes together, after being a part for a mere half hour....
and it wasn't just a peck. no. it was like heeseung was consuming you're entire essence. he would be breathing heavily, hand supporting the back of your neck to bring your closer if possible, kissing you as if he had been waiting a lifetime to do so. small gasps would fall from your lips while he nibbled down slightly, tugging and pulling at what was purely swollen by this point.
you lost more product than you put on. take now for instance because this is how it played out every single time. especially in the case of your stupid lipgloss.
you were getting ready for the day, adding your final touches. heeseung, who was only half dressed, still sporting his sweatpants from the night, had his arms slung around your neck, chin nestling into your collarbone, being his usual clingy morning self as you began to apply your lipgloss.
heeseung, finally registering you were putting on the lip gloss, whispered in your ear. "come on, a little faster, baby."
"hee," you whined, cheeks beginning to burn already. this was it. you could barely get through putting anything on your lips without him urging you to hurry up so he could kiss you. "stop! i always have to reapply because of you. i'm not going to kiss you."
heeseung just smiled softly, leaving gentle kisses on your neck. you sucked in a sharp breath, trying to regain your focus. "why do you make this so difficult?" you mumbled, carefully applying the gloss to your bottom lip.
you could hear a huff of amusement slip out of heeseung's mouth. "you are one to talk... you know how i feel about your lips. yet you torture me every single day."
you suppressed your eye roll at your boyfriend's theatrics. "not my fault you're down so bad."
heeseung poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, now watching you finish up without a word to say.
you had barely put the wand down let alone in the tube when heeseung's hand gently travelled to your chin, turning your head slightly so he could duck down and bring his lips to yours.
your half-groan and half-squeal turned muffled. your grip around the applicator tightened as you fell victim to the very thing you had been trying to stop. not that you were trying hard or anything. the gasp you released when he nibbled down allowed him to make a mess of you, slipping his tongue in to mix with your own and dance with the rhythm of your heavy pants.
heeseung finally parted, chest rising up and down with heavy breaths. his finger tugged down your bottom lip, only little remnants of your lip gloss dotting it. he sighed with a small smile. "you were right. i am down bad."
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jongseong
the first time jay saw you apply lipgloss in a mirror, he was hooked. he only had to see you do it once and the following day, he brought several lipglosses for you.
it was like a side quest for him. every time he gifted you anything, a lip gloss would be on the side. or when you were literally out for groceries, you'd find him in the cosmetics aisle and he'd turn to with a lipgloss on hand. grabbing your hand, he'd pull you closer to him and start to compare the lipgloss in the packaging to your lips. "hmm... i don't know... maybe the red one would be better."
as much as you loved it, you were beginning to complain once your draw began to fill up with several tubes of gloss, covering any other item you had in sight. what were you supposed to do with this much lipgloss? furthermore, they actually had a shelf life.... they expired.
when you brought this up to jay, he gave you the most careless shrug. "i'll just get new ones. besides, all you have to do is put them on. i'll just take it off."
oh?
oh.
jay would also be so fucking sulky if his favourite colour was changed or discontinued. it wouldn't be obvious at first but after finding out, he'd let out little sighs every time you applied a different colour and he'd keep on looking at the expiry date, wishing time would stop.
you did manage to find a dupe, however. and the moment jay saw it, he was over the moon. like thank god and the stars in heaven.
immediately he'd ask you to put it on. and who are you to deny your boyfriend's sweet request? so you opened it and applied the colour, conscious of jay's trailing eyes. the moment the wand went back into the tube, jay grabbed your face, examining your lips with the distance of a hairbreadth.
you felt warm in his grasp, feeling his thumb hover over your lips as if he were tracing them. a satisfied smile washed onto his face, the scrunch of his furrowed brows disappearing. he nodded. "beautiful."
your cheeks tinged with a heated flush. you couldn't help but just give him a long kiss on his lips, parting to find your colour imprinted on him. you grinned, imitating his own tone. "beautiful."
jay rolled his eyes, hand travelling to encircle your waist. your mouth dried at the sudden proximity and the intensity swirling in his brown eyes. "let me show you just how beautiful you are."
STAWPPP 😳🤭
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jaeyun
babe. listen. jake will stop everything he's doing if it means getting to watch you put some lipgloss on. sure, there's lip balm. but lip balm is not as pretty as lipgloss is on you.
pretty sure he has a spidey sense for it as well. like at any given time, if he thinks you're about to put on some lipgloss, he'll run right towards you.
you'll be in your room and you got a package the other day. it was some new lipglosses that you wanted to try. jake is in the living room, headphones on full blast, but yet somehow he can hear you open the package he brought from your mailbox.
you've just picked a lipgloss to try on and jake is already dragging the ottoman in the corner of your room to your mirror. "jake? i– where did you come from?"
"i heard you open your package, so," jake shrugged.
you blinked blankly. your hand stretched out to lift the headphones hung around his neck with a finger. "you heard me? with these on? jake, they're noise cancelling."
"i should sue for false advertisement," jake nodded to himself before redirecting his attention to you. his wide eyes flickering back and forth between you and the lip gloss in your hands.
you sighed, shaking your head. you knew exactly what he wanted. he wasn't slick with it. you had caught him several times, purposely placing your lip glosses randomly everywhere. on your bed, on the kitchen counter, next to your phone, next to the sink... the list was endless.
jake intently watched you open the lipgloss, head leaning in naturally. the push of your hand towards him surprised him but he realised quickly that you were fulfilling the question lingering inside his head: the smell of the lipgloss. taking a quick whiff, he noted the feigned berry scent, reminiscent of the warm plum colour it had.
you pushed down your smile at the cute little nod jake did once he was satisfied. taking the wand back, you leaned into your mirror, eyes narrowing and lips pursing.
out of your peripheral, you could see jake do the same, except his teeth were sinking into his bottom lip, far too focused on what you were doing.
his eyes trailed the tip of the applicator. the warm plum colour smeared softly against your pillowy lips, mostly sheer. it had small speckles of glitter from what jake could tell. as you rubbed your lips together, finally bringing in the entire coat, jake could tell he loved this gloss.
it looked amazing on you. or well, you made it look good.
you turned to him, wiggling your eyebrows. "what do you think?" you queried, jutting out your lips for him to see.
jake was at a lost for words. all he could do is grab your face with his hands and place his lips onto yours. your eyes widened at the sudden kiss before closing once you began to melt away at the pure fervour jake had within him. he was consuming you, attempting to get closer to you if he could and seizing any air around you.
you pulled yourself away, taking a big inhale of air. shit...
your eyes fell to the plum colour smudged across jake's lips. you were sure yours looked the same. you could've sworn your heart skipped a beat when a loose grin played on his face. "i love it."
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sunghoon
to be honest, sunghoon had never thought about this. like ever. he had never seen it, never mind with someone he really liked, so it didn't really register for him. jake, the most clingy person he knows, talked about it all the time. he was already down bad but whatever this thing was with lipgloss, it had jake go feral. and sunghoon just didn't get it.
like bro, it's just lipgloss? like chill.
sunghoon understood the mundane things. like watching you tuck your hair behind your ears, the way you would chew down on your lip when you were concentrating on something, or the scrunch of your nose when you would squint. he would never admit it to you, or anyone for that matter, but he loved that shit.
this lipgloss thing? eh...
but then he saw it.
sunghoon never really pegged you for a lipgloss person. you were always complaining about your hair getting stuck in your lip balm, which resulted in your tucking your hair behind your ears (a win for him). so he just figured lipgloss wasn't in your kit.
but you two were getting ready for a lunch date and sunghoon saw you whip out the warm pink gloss while he put on his shoes. he forgot all about doing the laces... eyes honing on your lips through the mirror.
now that he had seen it, he couldn't stop looking. he understood it.
it was so intriguing.
the way you had to purse your lips and apply such a pretty colour. the way the light bounced off the shine, glittering occasionally. the care you took... the rubbing of your lips to smear the colour evenly... the little satisfactory nod and smile you sported when you saw yourself fully in the mirror...
fuck, he got it.
after finally finishing his shoes, sunghoon walked up to you, watching you turn around with a wide smile. you wiggled your eyebrows. "how do i look?" you asked, giving a small spin.
sunghoon smiled quietly, mind full of only your lips. he dipped his head down to your cheek, leaving a lingering kiss on the soft surface before pulling back. "pretty."
you smiled at his compliment, your own eyes looking him up and down, hand rubbing his chest gently. you stood on your toes, pressing a quick peck on his cheek as well. "you look pretty too."
your eyes widened at the shiny pink stain on his cheek. "aw shit," you cursed.
sunghoon raised a brow, looking at himself in the mirror. his body paused on the silhouette of your kiss on his skin. he could've sworn his heart was thundering in his chest while a wave of warm washed over him.
you grabbed a fresh wet wipe from your vanity, hand stretching out to wipe off the mark but sunghoon's hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you.
sunghoon gave a small smile at the confused expression swirling in your eyes. "leave it."
your eyes go big at his words. "b-b-but it's gonna be on your skin? it's so pink and so... obvious..." you told him, voice slowly turning into a whisper as his smile got bigger.
"it's okay," sunghoon murmured, grabbing this wipe out of your hand and resting it on the vanity before intertwining his fingers with yours. "i like it like that."
soft for this type of sunghoon 🥹🤭
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seonwoo
listen, seonwoo is the motherfucker that would apply it for you.
don't get him wrong. he loves watching you put lipgloss on. he admired the way you got so into it, blocking out the rest of the world for a good three minutes to make sure you had applied it well. besides, you looked so pretty.
but one day, you broke out of your trance and caught seonwoo looking invested in it. the surprise he had when you offered him the wand and a lipliner was like no other. you thought he wanted to put it on which was fine with you. especially considering you were secretly the one who loved seonwoo's lips the most. so soft... so pillowy and plump, perfect for any lip product.
but much to your surprise, seonwoo shook his head no and asked is he could put it on you. the offer was so sweet, you immediately wiped off any product on your lip, not caring that it was technically a waste, and sat ready for him to apply it.
and now... it was like a daily ritual.
every morning, as the both of you got ready, you would both decide on a combo you would wear for the day. and you would sit in front of the window, on the floor, sun beaming down on you.
it normally took three minutes at most to line your lips and then fill it with lipgloss. but with seonwoo, it took a lot longer. the both of you got distracted to easily.
he'd be lining your lips, unaware of all the sweet whispers falling from his mouth. "you're so pretty, baby," "i didn't know it was possible for lips to be this cute." and adding the final touches of your gloss, he'd say, "i just want to kiss you so bad... every day."
and this was your breaking point.
screw the lipgloss.
you would always end the entire moment by grabbing his face to kiss him. you could feel the sticky gloss move onto him, his soft pillowy lips absorbing all the colour and sparkles.
seonwoo would also get into it, pushing himself closer into your touch, making the kiss deeper as his craving for you expanded. his hands, free of the liner and gloss, would crawl up your neck, getting tangled in your hair. his eye would be completely shut, letting himself melt into you entirely.
the whole gloss thing always left seonwoo on fire. like he just couldn't wait to kiss you again and again.
you would leave the kiss by placing kisses across his jaw and kisses. practically adorning his skin in your marks while your hands fisted the end of his shirt.
you'd both spent the next ten minutes trying to wipe off the marks with wet wipes, talking and laughing about how maybe the lipgloss should be left to you, only for seonwoo to get sulky about it, refusing the proposition entirely. he was going to put your lipgloss on. even if it only resulted in it coming off.
you didn't mind though. seonwoo knew that deep down you'd wake up the next day and do it all over again just to kiss him again. because that's exactly what he wants.
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jungwon
jungwon is another one who doesn't really get it. he's just so caring and romantic that he revels in the simplicity of romance.
he likes that you're the first text he sees everyday, even when you're right next to him. or when you walk around in his clothes... hoodies, matching bracelets, and keychains. when he checked on you to make sure you had eaten and to see how you're day had been going. his favourite, however, was your random urge to poke his dimples. it always made him break out into a shy smile which you teased him for.
these simple things... they kept him going.
but then came the lipgloss his sister had gifted you for your birthday. you were a big fan of tinted lip balms, he knew that. he always pretended to gape at your drawer full of them because he knew you'd end up hitting him in the arm, annoyed by his teasing.
this lipgloss, however, was truly one of a kind. it was packed with some of the prettiest glitter jungwon had ever seen. to be honest, jungwon should've thanked his sister when he saw you first apply it the next day.
you were out having a picnic. everything was just right. the sun, the comforting breeze, and the warmth of your head resting on jungwon's lap, while music softly played from your phone.
as you were resting on jungwon's lap, eyes closed and absorbing the peaceful atmosphere, you suddenly remembered you had brought along his sister's present. jungwon, who was spending most of this tranquility staring at you and combing his hand through your hair, had a mini heart attack when you suddenly opened your eyes and were lunging towards your bag.
his sharps brows furrowed at your rummaging. "what are you looking for, baby?"
your tongue hung out of the corner of your mouth. "uh," you failed to respond, trying to find the tube that you apparently had misplaced so easily in your bag. "ah! got it!" you cheered, feeling the smooth tube enter your hand.
jungwon watched as you grabbed your phone as well and went back to laying on his lap. you slid your phone to the camera, turning it so it faced you. placing the butt of the lipgloss tube in your mouth, you expertly twisted out the applicator and moved the tube between your fingers to apply the product.
the whole scene was some sort of alluring contraption to jungwon. the dexterity of your fingers surprised him but nothing surprised him more than his sudden fixation on your lips. the way you applied the warmish red in thin sheer coats across your soft lips, letting the sun capture every single speckle of glitter in it.
you were radiating.
you checked yourself in your phone before putting it down. you looked up at jungwon's staring eyes and pursed your lips. "thoughts?"
jungwon remained silent for a second, internally contemplating. but, nevertheless, a sigh slipped out of his mouth before he pressed his lips to yours. the peck was momentary before he pulled back. "i think it's pretty."
a flush of heat travelled down your cheeks. "jungwon," you whined, jutting out your lip, only increasing his urge to kiss you again. "you took like half of it off."
jungwon grinned, dimples popping out, making you instinctively poke them with your finger. his lipgloss coated lips pressed a brief kiss on the side of your finger. "i also think i'm going to have to buy you some more lipglosses."
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riki
an interesting sort of impatience.
from the moment you started wearing lipglosses or he watched you put on your lip balm, riki was fixated on the act. he always pretended like he didn't care because for him it was slightly embarrassing. to be affected by something so simple, that is.
he never tries to enforce you like some people might by putting lipglosses everywhere or buying you them specifically. riki liked when it happened naturally and every so often.
on the occasion, maybe you were getting ready or you were testing out a new colour, he'd watch you out of the corner of his eye. patiently waiting for you to apply. why? it was simple because he wanted to come off.
he couldn't really grasp it. there was just this sort of annoyance that you had when riki smudged the gloss so it escaped the confines of your lips... and riki adored your reaction to it.
you'd always get slightly heated. whining and purposely trying to move away from him so you could apply it in peace. only for him to follow you out, resulting in you being chased around the house.
that was what he was impatient for. that very specific intimacy between you two. as mentioned, he enjoyed the natural occurrence of it. he could never make it happen. it just happened. and when it did, it would set the mood for the rest of the day.
like today.
you were already cautious the moment you saw riki walk into the bathroom in your peripheral. riki would raise his arms in defence. "i'm just looking for my cologne," he'd say, "i put it somewhere here because jake was hounding me for some.
you narrowed your eyes, silently turning back to the mirror and returning to your application. riki was next to you, pretending to rummage through the bathroom drawers. you can't miss the way he slowly rises up from drawers, his eyes fixated on your lips through the mirror.
by the last swipe of your lipgloss, you can already feel and see riki leaning in to mess it up. "nope!" you said, immediately retracting yourself from the bathroom counter, rushing to walk out of the room.
riki was hot on your tail. "oh come on... i'm not doing anything. i just want to spend time with you. is that so bad?" he asked, amusement underlying his voice.
you turned to him, now walking backwards out into the living room. "yes. it is bad when you have that look in your eyes."
riki stepped towards you, eyebrows pulled together in a feigned confusion. "what look?"
"that one. like you're going to eat me or something," you pointed accusingly.
riki rested his hands on his hips, standing in front of you with a slight tilt to his head. he clicked his tongue. he spoke with a nonchalant tone. "because i am."
the moment you see him take a step forward, you're off. you fell into a maze, running around your furniture which riki just inches behind you. you made it to your bedroom, in fits of laughter by this point and about to shut the door on his face.
but you're just a bit too slow.
riki's hand stretched out, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you back into him. you squirmed in his grip while he shifted the both of you to the bed with a soft thud.
"riki," you complained despite the wide smile etching on your face. your head fell to his chest, hair falling around your ears to cover your flushed skin.
a hum fell from his lips as riki's eyes flickered over your face, hand reaching out to push your hair behind your ears after he tilted your face back up. the action seized all the air around you. at least that's what you thought by the feel of your mouth drying.
"i got you," riki quietly teased, grinning at you.
you snapped out of your trance and rolled your eyes. you hit his chest playfully, a soft laugh following after. "let me go."
riki blinked at you, head leaning in towards you. you could feel his hot breath glide past your face. one would think your heart is in your ears by the sound of how loud it is. lips a mere millimetre away from yours, he whispered, "never."
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© maeumi-jng | do not copy, post (repost is fine!) or translate anywhere else! thank you ♡︎ requests here!
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abyssruler · 7 months
Text
furina’s guide on the art of matchmaking
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neuvillette x gn!reader
it’s no secret that furina is constantly bored of the mundanity that comes with court, but with the recent discovery of neuvillette’s crush on you, things have just gotten a lot more interesting. if only you and neuvillette would just get together, but alas, it comes down to the great hydro archon to bring justice to neuvillette’s sad, pathetic love life.
furina pov, comedy, furina being dramatic as hell
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Furina knows the best way to get under Neuvillette’s skin is through you. The Iudex may seem impassive from the outside, but she knows where to look for his tells, particularly when he’s annoyed (she has, after all, been the recipient to silently judging stares, usually those of a disappointed or even irritated nature).
And she’s seen the way Neuvillette looks at you—his face softening, an almost imperceptible smile on his lips, and most damningly of all, the slightest hint of a blush whenever you stare into his eyes a little too long to be considered proper.
It’s all so entertaining to watch, if a bit miffing to endure seeing how utterly slow the two of you are. If Furina had been in Neuvillette’s shoes, she would have long since enacted a performance grander than anything Fontaine has ever seen and asked you out on a date. Not just any date though, no, she would have to pull an all-nighter to come up with the best date there is. One does not simply go on a date with the God of Justice and have it be mediocre.
But all that aside, with how boring Neuvillette is with his stricter than strict rules and views on how one must go about their day, it falls upon her to make sure he doesn’t die as a decrepit old bachelor who’s never felt the touch of another person intimately. (Not that Furina had any say on the topic of intimacy, seeing as she’s never had any experience in the romantic aspects of life, but experience means nothing compared to the wisdom of the God of Justice!)
So, after many nights spent huddled beneath her blankets, scribbling on her notebook and brainstorming the best way to get a rise out of Neuvillette, she happened upon a breakthrough. An idea so great it would not only be something worthy of the Steambird’s headlines, but also be something the people of Fonatine would speak of for years to come.
Yes, it all comes down to this very moment, standing over the highest place in the opera with hundreds of eyes watching her as she points an accusing finger at your figure standing on the very stage she’s set up.
Neuvillette watches it all with his eyes narrowed at her, hands clasped tightly around his cane, and Furina would have loved to relish in that reaction, but alas, she must continue with her script.
With a haughty smile, she meets your eyes as she yells out loud to her captivated audience.
“I charge you, (Y/N), with the crime of theft!”
The people below gasp in shock at the sudden accusation. Only natural, of course. You, an esteemed person of reputable background who most people view as a kind person, being charged with theft? How scandalous!
But that’s not all!
“You stand accused of thievery,” Furina pauses for a dramatic effect, feeling the spectators hold their breaths as they await her final verdict.
She then looks up at Neuvillette, and it takes all she has in her not to burst in hysterics at the comically pinched face he’s sporting. She moves her finger from you to Neuvillette, practically preening in place as the assembled crowd below let out varying expressions of shock.
And with a smug smile, she deals the final blow.
“For stealing the Chief Justice of Fontaine’s heart!”
One, two, three—
Screams erupt from below. Women squealing in delight while the men cheer at the sudden twist from accusation to romance.
Furina basks in the attention as the people sing praises of her.
“Of course, how could not I have seen it before?”
“Lady Furina is so sharp to have caught on!”
“Monsieur Neuvillette and (Y/N) do make a good pair, don’t they?”
“How ingenious! As expected of our Lady Furina!”
But then, Neuvillette stands, a stern look on his face as he taps his cane on the ground hard enough to rattle her eardrums.
“Order!”
His face could have been made from stone with how hard he’s looking at her. If looks could kill, she’d be dead on the spot. Yikes! Perhaps it’s time to make a swift escape…
“Lady Furina, might I remind you that charges and accusations are not to be made lightly within the court. To abuse your position in order to make a ridiculous statement. I…”
With every word that leaves his mouth, Furina slowly begins to feel that perhaps she’d been too hasty in thinking that all would turn out well. And oh, maybe she should have thought up of scenarios and what-to-dos after she finished performing her grand plan, but in her defense, she’d been too excited at the prospect of finally pushing you two together that it completely slipped her mind!
Is it too late to claim it was all an elaborate performance not meant to be taken seriously?
Neuvillette stares thunderously up at her.
She’ll take that as a no, then.
Just when all hope seemed to have been lost, a savior comes in the form of you raising your hand.
Neuvillette immediately stops speaking in favor of addressing you.
“Would the accused like to defend their innocence?”
You take a deep breath, gaze briefly flitting to Furina’s before meeting Neuvillette’s. And even without much prompt, from that single glance alone, she knew she was about to witness something extremely entertaining.
“I… I would like to press charges as well,” you say evenly, and for a second, Furina’s heart drops as she thinks you’re about to charge her for false accusations and perhaps even slander, (the first time in history that anyone has charged the God of Justice for a crime!) but then, you continue—
“I would like to press charges against you, Monsieur Neuvillette, for stealing my heart too.”
Your statement is followed by a stunned silence that only lasts for a brief moment, before it’s overcome by exclamations and whoops at the sudden turn of events.
Furina falls back on her seat and howls with laughter as she watches Neuvillette be struck speechless, red creeping up his cheeks as your statement echoes across the cavernous hall. She reminds herself to gift you something extravagant for saving her at the very last moment.
Ah, what a delightful way to end the show.
She watches you direct a besotted smile towards Neuvillette. Another day, another poor sod saved from the horrors of a nonexistent love life.
Furina mentally pats herself on the back for a job well done.
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dolldefiler · 2 months
Text
Another incest piece, at the risk of my asks being filled with very questionable shit. The daughter’s at least 18. I created her so I can make that decision.
C/W: Incest, Rape, Somnophilia (is this the right format?)
It’s alright, baby. Drink as much as you want. I’m here for you. I’ll keep you safe, I promise. Daddy’s not going to let anyone touch you. Well… except myself. Mhm? Nothing, puppet. Drink up now. That’s a good girl. Don’t worry, this will be our little secret while your mother’s out of town. Well, it would be a secret if she hadn’t encouraged me to do this… Nothing, sweetheart, you’re hearing things. Now let’s get you back. You look like you’re half asleep. Honey? Honey?
Oh, you silly little girl. Falling asleep while you’re out drinking with Daddy. Now I’ll have to carry you back. It’s a good thing I’m not one of those evil, perverted men that would ruin your pretty fuckholes, princess. Aww, you sound so cute when you slur your words like that. You sound just like your mother, the first time I raped her. Just go back to sleep, my love. It’ll just be a bad nightmare when you wake up, won’t it?
Now that you’re in bed, let’s see what you have under that dress… Oh my. I didn’t realise my pretty little princess was wearing such adult underwear. Did you know I would be the one taking your dress off tonight? Did you know Daddy would be the one to strip you naked, sweetheart? Is that why you’re wearing that? Aww, you didn’t need to do that for me. I’d fuck you anyway. I’d breed my own daughter regardless of what she wore. 
Oh, fuck. Shit, even when you’re asleep the lips of your cunt kiss my cock perfectly. It’s like… it’s like you were made for me. Oh shit, look at that. Your creamy cunt’s slathering my shaft, even when you have no idea it’s happening. 
I knew you were a pervert, just like your parents.
And what if I… did this- FUCK! Oh fuck, yes. God, you’re even tighter than your whore of a mother when she was your age. God, I don’t think I’m going to last long. I’m using my fucking daughter’s pussy to jack off in. Shit, let’s release these tits. Ugh, you’re perfect. They’re beautiful. God, but they’d look so much better with my cock thrusting between them and your pretty eyes looking up into mine. I’m fucking cumming, princess. I’m so sorry, I can’t help it. Just take it all. Take all of Daddy’s hot seed in your fertile womb, as nature intended. You were designed to be mine from the start.
Perhaps you’ll learn that when you realise your belly and tits are swelling up.
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angelltheninth · 6 months
Text
Sexy Cult Leader Sukuna + Public Oral
Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, public blowjobs, control kink, kind of free use, coming untouched
A/N: I watched a cult movie last night and now here we are. Obviously please don't fall into a real one, that shits scary as fuck.
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Cult leader!Sukuna would make you suck his cock during meetings with other members. It wouldn't even be under the table, he'd have his legs spread open for you, your head kept close by his hand. It's most definitely a power flex, to show everyone how much control he has over his woman.
Cult leader!Sukuna never wants another person to look upon you naked even while you're sucking his cock for all to see. They can only see what he allows them to see, his good bitch who can't wait for him to finish his duties, one who has to have his cock now and he, like the demon god he is, allows it because he's so generous to his followers.
Cult leader!Sukuna doesn't let out a single moan as you deepthroat him, only little hums to let you know he's enjoying it. Because a lot of members are also women he knows they're watching too, wishing they could be in your place, ready to do anything, to pledge their loyalty to him. But they can never take your place, never.
Cult leader!Sukuna pulls you off his cock when he comes and shows your face to everyone, your mouth hanging open as his cum drips out. You can see how horny everyone is, barely even talking anymore, all those hard cock wanting to do the same to you. As if it would ever be allowed. You may think about it for a brief moment but in the end you will always go back him, sucking his cock again.
Cult leader!Sukuna loves to see the wonder on that new recruits face when you choke on his length, he can see the exact moment the switch happens and they want to join, only to have a piece of that pleasure. He tells them not to move an inch, to do nothing but watch, to come without touch. If they can do so then he will consider them worthy.
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quimichi · 6 months
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↳ CALLING THE FONTAINE BOYS YOUR GOOD BOY ༉‧₊˚✧
Fontaine boys x Creator!Reader
Lyney
"You're my good boy Lyney aren't you?" Lyney nods, barely able to repress his excitement. He smiles widely and scoots a little closer to you. "If I weren't your good boy, what else would I be?" he says softly. Your perfect little magician, putting in a show for you daily if youd asked, Lyney thinks to himself. He leans into your touch, relishing the sensations. Your hands on his cheeks are like a warm, reassuring hug, one that he has long pined for.
To hear you say those words— my one and only good boy— is his greatest joy, enough to make him think of nothing more. He forgets his past and future when he's with you. All he sees, is his grace, no one and nothing else matters.
Lyney smiles brightly. "Your Grace, I think— no, I *know* that I am your one and only good boy," he says confidently. He looks up at you, his gaze soft and adoring. He reaches up to cup your cheek in his hand as you had done for him moments before, and gently strokes your face.
"You have no reason to doubt that I am yours," Lyney says softly, what a charmer "I will always be yours, and no other's. I have sworn it to myself"
"Oh, have you now?" "I have," Lyney replies with a warm, almost smug grin. "I have sworn to be yours forever," he says confidently. "No other God is more important to me, no other...powerful being, and no other love will ever supersede the one I feel for you, my love."  
The great magician's expression and tone are both soft and tender. He gazes at you like you are the single most precious thing in the world. "And no one could ever dare take me from you...I will put up the fight of my life for you"
(Clearly not me thinking of Arlecchino here nouuu)
Freminet
"You can come as close as you want, Freminet" Your soft voice is enough to make Freminet obey, lurr him in like the depths of Fontaine.
He moves closer, his hands clasping the fabric of your robes. As he does so, he meets your gaze for a moment, before his eyes slowly start to drift shut. The closer he gets, the warmer he feels... and the less painful his life is.
He remains silent for several precious, peaceful moments, before finally whispering, "Have I pleased you, Your Grace?"
"My good boy always pleases me" Freminet feels tears well up in his eyes. To be called 'good' by you, to please you, to belong to you, to belong to someone who actually loves him...
Freminet closes his eyes as tight as he holds Pers close to his chest, and bites back a sob. His entire body shakes with happiness and emotion. He grips your robes tighter, and buries his face into your lap, unable to stop himself. You let your hands go through his hair, to comfort the distressed boy. Your fingers are enough to calm him. Freminets tears dry up and his body slowly calms beneath your gentle touch, his breathing growing quieter and his heart slowing. Maybe the ocean isn't his only comfort anymore?
Eventually, Freminet peeks up at you. He tries to form a smile, but it's only tentative... and it breaks apart almost immediately. He glances away, ashamed but also wanting to make you proud.
"I— I'm sorry for crying, Your Grace," he mumbles. "Never apologize for having feelings"
You're exactly what he needs, and craves.
Neuvillette
"My good boy, please come to me" you coo the moment he stepped into the hall "Y-Y-Your Grace...?" Your voice, full of warmth and love, causes him to startle. It almost feels as if his heart has skipped a beat. A small smile creeps onto his face that only you can see. "What is it you require of me?"
Neuvillettes voice is soft, filled with affection for you. This is no different from how he treats his people in Fontaine, yet your position makes it all the more special. Your commands cannot be ignored. "My, you look stressed are you well?" Your voice is gentle. You have always been gentle with him, caring and loving. This has not gone unnoticed.
Your words seem to cause him to pause. He thinks for a moment before nodding slowly. "Y-Yes, Your Grace... I am well but stressed"
He swallows, glancing back up at you. He can never hide anything from you, which is why he's always so honest. "I... am worried for the state of our nation, and our people."
"Does my good boy need a hug?" a simple thought, but it made his heart skip. "A hug... I suppose a hug could help ease my worries, Your Grace."
After he's spoken, you can see him shift in place. You can't be sure if it's nervous energy or genuine anxiety, but he seems uncertain. Perhaps he's afraid to approach you after your last few weeks away. He would never admit it, not even to himself, as he's too prideful. But every night you don't spend in his chambers leaves him restless. Your presence eases him. You have always been his comfort.
Like the softest summer rain.
Wriothesley
"Oh good, youre back. Come here now" He does so without a second thought, and his eyes fix upon yours. He is close enough to touch you, if he so chooses. He has no fear— he is loyal, devoted, and a fanatic. And maybe hes a simp. "What is it, Your Grace?" he murmurs, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. "I just wanted my good boy in my presence or am i to greedy?"
His entire body seems to relax as soon as you speak. He nods immediately. "I am here, Your Grace. Nothing you do would ever seem to greedy." He looks up at you, his eyes brimming with an almost unhealthy amount of devotion. When you call him your "good boy," his ears prick up and his cheeks flush with the heat of passion.
"Then stay with me please"
Wriothesley nods again, and remains on his knees at your feet. His hands clench tightly together, and his blue eyes watch you with something close to reverence.
"Your wish is my command, Your Grace."
(I'm bad at writing him I'm so sorry)
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spiderlyla · 8 months
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I bet Miguel loves it when he can see himself inside of you. Like a little belly bulge from where he’s fucking you and be just loves to stare at it and watch as he fills you up 🤭🤭🤭
cw: belly buldge, size kink, praise kink, a bit of a breeding kink (sorry had to.) afab!reader, 18+ so minors dni!
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"yeah, yeah? you like that, don't you?" Miguel rammed into you, over and over and over again. He's been at this for what seems like hours. You've lost all sense of time, your body was quivering with how many orgasms he'd bullied out of you, your brain had gone dumb, you couldn't think of anything but the feeling of his thick cock stretching your walls and filling you up over and over.
"m-mig, 'nough—can't take it." he silences you with a feverish kiss, like you'd be gone if he was to pull away from you. like you'd dissappear if he stops touching you. "I know you can, mi amor, you can." He buries his face into your neck and you tangle your fingers in his dampened hair. "Such a good girl f'me, aren't you?" His hands roam down to your chest, fondling the plush skin but quickly gliding it over your stomach and down to your abdomen. He leaves it there, feeling where his tip reached everytime he thrusted into you.
He straightened up, and slowed down his thrusts just to admire the view. You looked gorgeous, all spread out and fucked-dumb like this. Eyes fluttering, lips agap and all those broken, incoherent moans and variations of his name spilling out of them. Your walls were fluttering around him, and you were milking him dry, and he loved it. He loved every second of it. "Mig—Miguel—can't cum, baby, I feel—" He wouldn't have that. He stopped thrusting and grabbed your legs, putting them over his broad shoulders. When he started to thrust again, he reached deeper into you.
"You will, nena," His hair stuck to his forehead, his crimson eyes fixed on where the two of you were connected. "Gonna fill you up, hm?"Your face flushed red at his dirty talk, he only gets this filthy when he's close. One of his big hands rested on your abdomen, while the other one held your thigh so it wouldn't slip off his shoulder. "Te voy a hacer madre, yeah, yeah?" Your nods and whimpers of approval made him speed up again, the tip of his cock reaching your cervix with the position he had you in.
[I'm gonna make you a mother.]
Your walls clenched around him and your body shook violently against his, you arched your back, fingers tugging on Miguel's locks as you let your orgasm crash down on you. A white ring formed around the base of his cock and the sound of squelching was louder and louder with each thrust of his. He let your legs fall off his shoulders, hands on your hips to keep you steady while he rode his own orgasm out.
It didn't take long for him to spill inside of you. Miguel watched as you took his load, your belly swelling up from it. God, he could cum again just by looking at it, at you.
He slumped over you, almost crushing you with his massive weight on top, but you've gotten used to it. Your arms wrapped around his neck as the two of you take in deep breaths. His hair is a mess, wet with sweat and absolutely disheveled from all your tugs, and let's not mention your state, in short, Miguel had made a mess out of you. You two needed a bath, or a shower.
And Miguel seemingly read your mind.
"I'd run us a bath, honey, but.." He moved a little, only for you to realise he was still inside of you. Keeping everything inside of you. "Would hate if all that went to waste, hm?"
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