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jadevine · 4 months

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Preindustrial travel, and long explanations on why different distances are like that

Update March 1, 2024: Hey there folks, here's yet another update! I reposted Part 2a (the "medieval warhorses" tangent) to my writing blog, and I went down MORE of the horse-knowledge rabbit hole! https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/741423906984951808/my-post-got-cut-off-so-i-added-the-rest-of-it Update Jan 30, 2024: Hey folks, I've posted the updated version of this post on my blog, so I don't have to keep frantically telling everyone "hey, that's the old version of this post!" https://thebalangay.wordpress.com/2024/01/29/preindustrial-travel-times-part-1/

I should get the posts about army travel times and camp followers reformatted and posted to my blog around the end of the week, so I'll filter through my extremely tangled thread for them.

Part 2 - Preindustrial ARMY travel times: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask

Part 2a - How realistic warhorses look and act, because the myth of "all knights were mounted on huge clunky draft horses" just refuses to die: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/732043691180605440/helpful-things-for-action-writers-to-remember

Part 3 - Additional note about camp followers being regular workers AND sex-workers: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/740604203134828544/reblogging-the-time-looped-version-of-my

I saw a post on my main blog about how hiking groups need to keep pace with their slowest member, but many hikers mistakenly think that the point of hiking is "get from Point A to Point B as fast as possible" instead of "spending time outdoors in nature with friends," and then they complain that a new/less-experienced/sick/disabled hiker is spoiling their time-frame by constantly needing breaks, or huffing and puffing to catch up.

I run into a related question of "how long does it take to travel from Point A to Point B on horseback?" a lot, as a fantasy writer who wants to be SEMI-realistic; in the Western world at least, our post-industrial minds have largely forgotten what it's like to travel, both on our own feet and in groups.

People ask the new writer, "well, who in your cast is traveling? Is getting to Point B an emergency or not? What time of year is it?", and the newbies often get confused as to why they need so much information for "travel times." Maybe new writers see lists of "preindustrial travel times" like a primitive version of Google Maps, where all you need to do is plug in Point A and Point B.

But see, Google Maps DOES account for traveling delays, like different routes, constructions, accidents, and weather; you as the person will also need to figure in whether you're driving a car versus taking a bus/train, and so you'll need to figure out parking time or waiting time for the bus/train to actually GET THERE.

The difference between us and preindustrial travelers is that 1) we can outsource the calculations now, 2) we often travel for FUN instead of necessity.

The general rule of thumb for preindustrial times is that a healthy and prime-aged adult on foot, or a rider/horse pair of fit and prime-aged adults, can usually make 20-30 miles per day, in fair weather and on good terrain.

Why is this so specific? Because not everyone in preindustrial times was fit, not everyone was healthy, not everyone was between the ages of 20-35ish, and not everyone had nice clear skies and good terrain to travel on.

If you are too far below 18 years old or too far past 40, at best you will need either a slower pace or more frequent breaks to cover the same distance, and at worst you'll cut the travel distance in half to 10 or so miles. Too much walking is VERY BAD on too-young/old knees, and teenagers or very short adults may just have short legs even if they're fine with 8-10 hours of actual walking. Young children may get sick of walking and pitch a fit because THEY'RE TIREDDDDDDDDDD, and then you might need to stay put while they cry it out, or an adult may sigh and haul them over their shoulder (and therefore be weighed down by about 50lbs of Angry Child).

Heavy forests, wetlands and rocky hills/mountains are also going to be a much shorter "distance" per day. For forests or wetlands, you have to account for a lot of villagers going "who's gonna cut down acres of trees for one road? NOT ME," or "who's gonna drain acres of swamp for one road? NOT ME." Mountainous regions have their traveling time eaten by going UP, or finding a safer path that goes AROUND, so by the time you're done slogging through drier patches of wetlands or squeezing through trees, a deceptively short 10-15 miles in rough terrain might take you a whole day to walk instead of the usual half-day.

If you are traveling in freezing winters or during a rainstorm (and this inherently means you HAVE NO CHOICE, because nobody in preindustrial times would travel in bad weather if they could help it), you run the high risk of losing your way and then dying of exposure or slipping and breaking your neck, just a few miles out of the town/village.

Traveling in TOO-HOT weather is just as bad, because pushing yourself too hard and getting dehydrated at noon in the tropics will literally kill you. It's called heat-STROKE, not "heat-PARTY."

And now for the upper range of "traveling on horseback!"

Fully mounted groups can usually make 30-40 miles per day between Point A and Point B, but I find there are two unspoken requirements: "Point B must have enough food for all those people and horses," and "the mounted party DOESN'T need to keep pace with foot soldiers, camp followers, or supply wagons."

This means your mounted party would be traveling to 1) a rendezvous point like an ally's camp or a noble's castle, or 2) a town/city with plenty of inns. Maybe they're not literally going 30-40 miles in one trip, but they're scouting the area for 15-20 miles and then returning to their main group. Perhaps they'd be going to an allied village, but even a relatively small group of 10-20 warhorses will need 10-20 pounds of grain EACH and 20-30 pounds of hay EACH. 100-400 pounds of grain and 200-600 pounds of hay for the horses alone means that you need to stash supplies at the village beforehand, or the village needs to be a very large/prosperous one to have a guaranteed large surplus of food.

A dead sprint of 50-60 miles per day is possible for a preindustrial mounted pair, IF YOU REALLY, REALLY HAVE TO. Moreover, that is for ONE day. Many articles agree that 40 miles per day is already a hard ride, so 50-60 miles is REALLY pushing the envelope on horse and rider limits.

NOTE: While modern-day endurance rides routinely go for 50-100 miles in one day, remember that a preindustrial rider will not have the medical/logistical support that a modern endurance rider and their horse does.

If you say "they went fifty miles in a day" in most preindustrial times, the horse and rider's bodies will get wrecked. Either the person, their horse, or both, risk dying of exhaustion or getting disabled from the strain.

Whether you and your horse are fit enough to handle it and "only" have several days of defenselessness from severe pain/fatigue (and thus rely on family/friends to help you out), or you die as a heroic sacrifice, or you aren't QUITE fit enough and become disabled, or you get flat-out saved by magic or another rider who volunteers to go the other half, going past 40 miles in a day is a "Gondor Calls For Aid" level of emergency.

As a writer, I feel this kind of feat should be placed VERY carefully in a story: Either at the beginning to kick the plot off, at the climax to turn the tide, or at the end.

Preindustrial people were people--some treated their horses as tools/vehicles, and didn't care if they were killed or disabled by pushing them to their limits, but others very much cared for their horses. They needed to keep them in working condition for about 15-20 years, and they would not dream of doing this without a VERY good reason.

—

UPDATE January 13: Several people have gotten curious and looked at maps, to find out how a lot of cities are indeed spread out at a nice distance of 20-30 miles apart! I love getting people interested in my hyperfixations, lol.

But remember that this is the space between CITIES AND TOWNS. There should never be a 20-mile stretch of empty wilderness between City A and Town B, unless your world explains why folks are able to build a city in the middle of nowhere, or if something has specifically gone wrong to wipe out its supporting villages!

Period pieces often portray a shining city rising from a sea of picturesque empty land, without a single grain field or cow pasture in sight, but that city would starve to death very quickly in preindustrial times.

Why? Because as Bret Devereaux mentions in his “Lonely Cities” article (https://acoup.blog/2019/07/12/collections-the-lonely-city-part-i-the-ideal-city/), preindustrial cities and towns must have nearby villages (and even smaller towns, if large and prosperous enough!) to grow their food for them.

The settlements around a city will usually be scattered a few miles apart from each other, usually clustered along the roads to the city gates. Those villages and towns at the halfway point between cities (say 10-15 miles) are going to be essential stops for older/sick folks, merchants with cargo, and large groups like noble’s retinues and army forces.

Preindustrial armies and large noble retinues usually can’t make it far past 10-12 miles per day, as denoted in my addition to this post. (https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask )

#writing #preindustrial #horse riding #horse care #writing advice #medieval

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covetyou · 1 month

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egg hunt

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (m! receiving), balls, questionable use of sex toys, semi-public blowjobs, eggs, Joel is a giant bunny, feelings, misunderstandings leading to angst. word count: 5.9k summary: Catching Joel dressed as a giant rabbit in your backyard wasn't on your bingo card for things to happen to you this year. But, what waits for you beneath the bunny suit, and in his basket, aren't the only surprises you'll have tonight.

A/N: truth be told I find eggs genuinely, criminally funny in every possible way, as well as disgusting, so happy Easter!

These egg things are hilarious, but also not nearly as fun as they seem, though if I'd had the genius idea to stick 'em on some balls I imagine I would've had a much better time tbh.

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You almost don't notice, too busy shoving your cup harshly against the ice dispenser before taking a long, deep, gulp of the cold liquid. But then you see it, and it's not the shock of cold to your esophagus that makes your eyes widen, spluttering icy water before sucking in a desperate breath.

No. It's the ghostly white figure rummaging around in your backyard on all fours.

You duck down just as it stands, holding on tightly to the counter edge with both hands, before crawling to the backdoor to check it's locked, keeping you safely inside away from whatever this thing was. But, just as you reach for the latch, the creature stands on two legs, stretching back with two thick arms on its waist.

The figure is broad, and tall, and... dressed in what appears to be a giant bunny onesie. Even with it's head covered in a white hood, bunny ears flapping as the creature bends and moves, you know what it is. Who it is. You'd recognize those shoulders just about anywhere, and no one else would pull something like this at 9pm on a Sunday.

It had been weeks since you last saw him, but you can't say that was a surprise - what you had wasn't exactly a regular thing, if it could be called a thing at all. That doesn't mean you hadn't been hoping for it, counting down the days to the next holiday in hopes you'd see him again - There was no denying your disappointment St. Patrick's day came and went with no sign of a leprechaun and a pot of gold. Now, he was finally here, dressed head to toe in a bunny suit, doing fuck knows what to your lawn.

"The fucker..."

Unlocking the door, you slink out into the night, sliding it closed behind you before creeping across the yard. This was new, getting to be the one to surprise him. He may have been in your yard, but with each soft step of your foot on the grass it looked like you were finally going to one up him.

But then he turns around, looking toward the house and seemingly straight through you for a moment...

Before his eyes focus on you in the dark, and everything in his hands goes tumbling to the ground as he practically leaps out of his bunny suit.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ."

"We've got to stop meeting like this," you say watching Joel's giant bunny ears flap in the air with his movement as he bends, reaching down to the grass to pick up the basket he dropped.

"You half scared the shit outta me, what're you doin' out here?" he grumbles as he rights himself.

"What are you doing out here? It's my yard. You Bunny Joel this time?" you joke, crossing your arms over your chest in a not-so-smooth attempt to cover yourself. Getting properly dressed had been the last thing on your mind when you stumbled down the stairs, legs still jelly and head still fuzzy from post-orgasm bliss. The only thought that registered was how damn thirsty you were as you tugged a worn, old shirt over your head and made your way to the kitchen. It wasn't cool enough to blame the temperature shift on your quickly puckering nipples, and you didn't feel like explaining where your panties were or why your thighs were simultaneously sticky and slippery. You're just grateful you put on anything at all, and at the very least it was long enough to cover your ass.

Joel smirks, your fruitless attempt at modesty not going unnoticed. "Ain't no regular bunny, darlin'. I'm the Easter Bunny."

"And the difference is...?"

"Eggs."

You laugh, folding yourself over a little as you giggle into the night. The whole get up really is ridiculous enough on its own, yet here you are discussing the nuances of being a giant bunny with a man more fond of playing dress up than anyone else you'd ever met.

"Eggs?"

You spot them as soon as the word leaves your mouth - four colorful eggs sat neatly in his basket, and another nestled into your flowerbed. Only, they don't look like normal eggs at all. Squinting in the dark, the yard lit only by shitty solar lights you'd bought online last summer, you can make out the neat patterns swirled all over them. This was not the handiwork of some enthusiastic child dying eggs for Easter - they looked professionally painted. Joel shakes the basket at you as you continue to squint at it, and you realise not a single one has cracked or broken, even after being dropped on the floor.

"What are they? Egg shaped bouncy balls?"

"Got some balls right here if you're really that interested," he jokes, looking obscene as he waggles his eyebrows at you beneath the hood of the bunny onesie. "Here, they're just these... things. My brother got 'em for me as a joke, it's a long story."

He passes you one of the eggs, the surface smooth and cool in your hand. There's writing on it that you can just about make out, but you still have no clue what you're holding as you turn it around in your palm.

Sensing your confusion, Joel offers a choice gesture, as he explains that they're for "Y'know."

It clicks. Well, sort of. You know for sure then that they're not something you could sneak away for some solo playtime, like with the plug he dutifully left on by your bedside so many weeks ago but maybe, like the contraptions Joel had strapped over his balls your last two encounters, you could enjoy them together.

"Wait, so... you're giving me a thing for anatomy I don't even have?"

"No it's not like that, I just thought - I, well, shit."

"I'm just fuckin' with you, Bunny Joel. Though giving me a gift that's really a gift for yourself is a bit of a dick move."

"Ain't a dick move if you like 'em, sweetheart. And it's Easter Bunny Joel," he corrects with a wink, smiling at you as he drops the basket on the ground to pull at his neck tie. The man looks good in pink, you think, as he fiddles with the floppy satin.

"Y'know, Easter Bunny Joel doesn't quite roll off the tongue."

"Don't it?"

"Nope," you say with a pop, pinching the material of Joel's Bunny onesie to feel the fabric between your finger tips as your roll the egg across the palm of your other hand. "Think you need a better name than that."

"Okay, I'll bite. What you got in mind?"

You're walking your fingers down his chest now, dancing them in a criss-cross pattern across the fastenings at the front of the suit until you reach his hip and slowly you drag the tips of your fingers closer to his crotch until you're cupping his bulge. You wouldn't say he's entirely flaccid, there's certainly something there, but the length of him still feels pliable beneath your hand as you stroke over the front of his costume.

"I was thinking... Flopsy," you say with a squeeze of your palm against his cock, biting back a laugh when you hear him hiss a breath of night air through his teeth.

"Real funny."

"What? If you're committed to the bit, I can be too," and before he can protest you slip the fingers of your free hand between the fastenings on the front of his suit. You can feel his skin underneath, hot and sticky, trapped beneath the synthetic fabric of the bunny costume. At the very least, he's topless under there, and eager to find out more, you quickly yank at the front, grinning devilishly at Joel as the fabric pops open slightly.

"You really wanna be gettin' into this out here?"

"You scared, Flopsy?" you say, with another squeeze to his now much harder cock. "That side is up for sale, and Janet is out of town until Tuesday. No one's seeing anything. Unless you're scared someone might hear something... but I guess you'll just have to keep quiet."

"F- you're gonna be the death of me, darlin'," he mutters, pulling at his pink tie so it hangs loosely around his neck, giving him better movement to look down at your hand where it strokes his cock over the soft plush of the rabbit costume.

You tug again at the suit and with a rapid pop pop pop, the remaining fastenings hiding his chest from you pull open, revealing him to you and... he's a mess. From the neck down he's covered in streaks of paint, multicolored blooms splattered across him, dusting his ribs like a rainbow of bruises.

"Kid had some powder paint stuff - y'know that festival of color thing? Well, kid had some left after a party with a friend from school... had a little fight in the yard earlier before I dropped her back with her mom for the week," he explains quickly, rubbing a hand nervously against his chest and smearing the splattered rainbow there. You make a mental note, adding has a kid to the very short list of confirmed facts you know about Joel. It's not exactly a surprise revelation, all things considered - the costumes had to come from somewhere, and most grown men don't just have fairy wings and toy bows and arrows lying around.

"Well, Flopsy, you make a mighty fine canvas, but I think I might need a hand with this."

The egg you'd been turning in your hand is deposited back into his grasp just as you tug him forward giving him a peck on the chin as you look at him expectantly. Joel knows he shouldn't pull you toward him and kiss you out here, he thinks he knows that the expectant look is nothing to do with kissing him and everything to do with the egg in his hand, but he does anyway. Slotting his mouth against yours, he pulls you into his chest, the sweat of his skin transfering blotches of paint from his chest to your old shirt. But you don't care, holding yourself tighter to him, pushing your fingers underneath his hood to card them through his hair. Joel groans into your mouth when your fingertips rub at his scalp. You're in half a mind to call him such a good bunny but the air, and the thought, is knocked out of you the next second when he presses a hand against your ass, pulling you further into him so he can grind his hardened length against your lower belly.

It's been far too long since someone held you against them like this, and far too long since Joel had had someone like you in his arms. As he kisses and kisses you, you're starting to feel more and more insane, and maybe you are - maybe accepting this man into your home with such regularity is the mark of insanity, some kind of as-of-yet undiscovered syndrome that's going to be named after you.

Eventually, you muster the strength to pull away, slapping a hand gently to his chest and nodding down to the egg gripped in his fist. You're eager to see it in action, even if you still can't quite picture what it is.

"C'mon, open it for me. Gotta properly thank the Easter Bunny for bringing me Easter eggs."

Joel slips the wrapper of the egg, something you never could've figured out on your own without decent lighting to guide your way, and presses a thumb into the side of it, popping the top off the egg in one smooth movement.

Before he can hand it to you, you slip down to your knees, bare shins resting against the cool, damp grass. It's a beautiful clear night, not trace of the moon in sight just yet, but the glimmer of stars sparkling relentlessly overhead regardless. You hadn't noticed how hot you'd gotten, but being around Joel always seemed to do this to you. Your cheeks felt hot, your heart beat faster, and your head felt slightly dizzy - the result of it emptying itself of all thoughts except the ones that made you make questionable decisions it seemed. Of course, this time the heat wasn't just from proximity, but from that damned fabric of his costume, the synthetic fibers making you feel sweaty as you held onto him. The grass beneath you is a welcome relief against your warm skin, sending the fine hairs on your body prickling at the sensation.

"This how you say thank you to everyone? On your knees?"

"It's how I say thank you to giant bunnies, Joel," you quip back, pressing a kiss to the softness of his belly. You litter a string of kisses down the trail of hair until you reach the boundary of the bunny suit. Whether he's commando or you have another layer to get through, you don't yet know, but you waste no time finding out. With the hook of your finger and a final swift pull, the last fastenings bursts open, revealing Joel's heavy length straining against the front of his boxers. Where his tip tents the fabric, a darker patch blooms, turning the gray practically black with precum.

In your dreams, and there had been many of them, it didn't go like this. Dream you rarely went three rounds with themselves before Joel popped up to come fuck her brains out. Dream you was clever. And, as good as your solo session this evening was, you can't help but have a little regret for ruining yourself before the surprise main event. It was like eating a big meal right before someone suggested getting pizza. You could (and damn well would) eat pizza, but you couldn't enjoy it the same way. Pizza or Joel, you were going to savor it as best you could.

"Such a tease, Flopsy," you murmur as you kiss across his covered cock, nuzzling your face into it and watching in glee as his hand grips the opened egg that little bit tighter. Your fingers are pulling again, this time tugging down at his waistband. Joel is in half a mind to rid the egg of its shell and use the damn thing as a stress ball. It had been too long since last time, and since he last came two fucking days ago, to be seeing you on your knees for him in that flimsy t-shirt. It felt like a gift from the heavens and divine retribution wrapped up in one you shaped package.

As you pull his cock from the confines of his boxers, feeling the deep pulse of the blood in his veins as you wrap your fingers around him, you can't believe your luck at getting to see it in the flesh again. As brilliantly as your mind can concoct the image of it, the reality of it is so much better than any fantasy. Before you let yourself get lost in it, you reach for Joel's hand, grabbing the egg back from him and watching the top fall to the ground and roll across your lawn.

"It stretches. Goes over and you just - uh - stroke with it I guess."

The inside is far from what you expected. You almost find it gross, the translucent white interior far squishier than you expected that it'd be bordering on slimey if it was wet too. Joel laughs down at you, seeing your face as you try to work out what the fuck you're holding, pulling it free from the rest of the shell and seeing a hole stuffed with a plastic tube. You can see what he means now, and you let a soft oh fall from your lips as you tug the tube filled with a sachet of lube from the middle of the toy. You feel inside, running your fingers over soft ridges, and you can only imagine how nice it must feel sliding wetly up and down a cock and, not for the first time in your life, you wish you could experience it yourself. But, the next best thing is right in front of you, and that'll have to do.

"These feel good?" you ask, his eyes turning glassy as you examine the inside of the stroker while your hand still tugs slowly up and down his cock.

Joel sighs deeply, nodding down at you, the obscene bunny ears still flopping on his head with each movement. "S'good. Nothin' like the real deal but, yeah. Feel nice."

Gripping Joel's cock in your fist, you begin to stroke gently up and down, sliding his foreskin back and forth over his cock until he's steely hard beneath your palm. The solar lights are starting to dim, their charge from the day already running out, but you can still see the dusky red tip, and the blue of the vein that runs down his shaft. You squish the toy in your other hand, the temptation to taste too strong to just leave all the fun to the squishy silicone. So, you press a delicate kiss right to the tip.

"Oh fuck," Joel hisses.

"Missed it," you confess on your knees with another kiss.

"Yeah? Well, s'all yours." Mine.

"Really? Your bunny wife not going to chase me out of my own yard?"

"Know damn well I ain't got a wife, I ain't the cheatin' kind, darlin', don't you worry."

And that admission alone sends your aching cunt throbbing between your legs, wishing even more desperately now that you weren't completely wrecked and oversensitive from your ill-timed playtime upstairs.

"Good," is all you say before taking his head in your mouth with a swirl of your tongue, a satisfied moan vibrating against his tip as you taste him properly for the first time in 4 months. "I've been thinking about doing this."

"Yeah? Been thinking about sucking my cock?"

"Mhm."

"Shit."

A simple continuous swirl of your tongue and small bob of your head was apparently enough to have him gripping his hands into tight fists, clearly fighting some internal demons to keep himself from coming so soon. Your mind absolutely fizzes with it, that this man wants you, likes what you do to him so much that you can have such an affect on him. And when you suck lightly, his head tips back so far the hood slides back off his head. All you can see is the underside of his jaw from where you look up from your knees, and when looks back down at you with heavy eyes, he looks the most normal you've ever seen him. He's not Santa, nor Cupid, and the costume that had rendered him Bunny Joel just a second ago instead drapes around him like nothing more than a soft, white coat.

"Thought about you tasting you," you mutter between mouthing at his cock, slicking his entire length with your saliva. "Having you come in my mouth. On my face."

Joel groans again, much louder this time and you can't help but laugh, mouth pressed to his balls, at his feeble attempt at silence. You press the tip of your finger, egg still clutched in your fist, to his dribbling slit, and drag a tooth grazing kiss across his sensitive ball skin as you silence him with a whisper.

"Shh, Flopsy. You don't want us to get caught."

"Fuckin' Flopsy, I should -"

But you don't hear what he should do, because you engulf his tip with your mouth once again and Joel finds himself speechless as you immediately slide your lips further down his slicked length with ease. You work him in your mouth, sucking him as you move up and down. He can't stop moaning, he doesn't even try. He should, he thinks. You deserve better than getting caught in your backyard doing something like this, but all he can think about each time you move your tongue just like that is how fucking good your mouth feels.

He feels like he's going to come. Your hand is massaging gently over his balls, your mouth working his cock to a near frenzy, and he is absolutely, one hundred percent sure he's going to come. You know he's almost there. If the groaning wasn't enough, the tightening in his balls and the twitching of his cock were a clear sign he was about to blow.

Then you stop.

Just like that, your mouth is gone. Your hands too. And he's having to force himself to look down at you where you stare in awe at the stroker in your hands, glistening with lube you'd poured into it as he bit his lip and fought off coming, untouched, into the breeze.

You want to use it on him, to listen to him groan as you stroke him with the soft silicone, and watch his every move as you work him over the edge. And his cock, as if calling to you like some kind of siren of the sea, beckons you in, accepting an offering of one last kiss before you raise the stroker.

"It's so stretchy," you gasp, as you slide the toy over the tip of Joel's cock. You can pull it almost all the way down the length of him. You make a few experimental twists and jerks, before settling into a slow rhythm, teasing him just as you'd teased yourself and dragged out your own orgasm upstairs.

It's interesting. Slipperier than your own hand, easier than your own mouth, but not quite the same as either. You can't feel him like this, and you certainly can't taste him.

"Do you like it?" you ask, and Joel doesn't quite know what to answer. He does like it - he likes having your hands on him any way he can get it, but he can't feel you in the same way like this. And it's definitely not as good as your mouth, or any other hole of yours he's fucked.

There's just enough light to see his face give a noncommittal twitch and you're peeling the toy off of him, sucking his tip back into your mouth quickly, moaning as the taste of him hits your tongue.

"Good, because I prefer it like this too."

"Fuck, yeah."

Now though, you have a lubed up, saggy egg in your hand and nowhere to put it. Until an absolutely inspired idea hits you square in the face and you're grinning with Joel's cock in your mouth.

He barely sees the fiendish look in your eye, just notices as you pull off him again, and he could scream. Then, something smooth and cold coats his balls. Your fingers are cradling him delicately, thumb and forefinger stretching open the toy until with a gentle wiggle, his balls are encased in the squishy silicone. And holy fuck, is it like nothing he's ever felt.

"Don't think that's how you use it, darlin'. But, shit, it's good," he gasps as you gently massage his balls through the toy. It's like having a soft cool mouth encasing his entire ballsack, while your actual mouth kisses delicately all over his cock. "C'mon now, stop your teasin', gotta come in the pretty fuckin' mouth."

He's back in your mouth before he even finishes his sentence, your mouth sounding wet an obscene as you work him up and up and up all over again. You draw him in deeper, his cock meeting the back of your throat, over and over, his hand coming to cup your face and delicately wipe away a tear from your watering eyes. Fuck, you're wishing more than ever that you could just jump on him, that your cunt wasn't wrecked, or that it didn't matter, that you could go infinite rounds and still want to be touched again and again. But that wasn't you. You had a limit and, even though you'd reached it, the want in you didn't go away and neither did the slick feeling between your legs or the deep throb of your pulse beating away in your clit.

Joel's fingers grip tighter on the side of your face, a soft thrust of his hips meeting every movement of your head. Catching his eye almost kills you then and there with his cock wedged at the back of your throat. He looks as wrecked as you feel, dark eyes shining down like black holes from space now that the light from your solar lamps has all but fucked off. The paint and rabbit ears almost fade away into the background as you hold yourself down on his cock, making yourself whine around him. You're starting to think if you sucked his cock for long enough you could make yourself come totally untouched, but you don't want to think about it. You can't.

He takes over then. Each slip of your lips down his cock met with a gentle hold, until you both do it all over again. It's easier to hold for longer each time, almost feeling deeper with each slide of his cock across your tongue, the taste of his precum making you salivate as much as having your mouth filled and occupied is.

Then, he presses you down, holding your head as you moan and whine and try desperately to swallow around him, to take more of him as he only seems to get harder.

"Not so Flopsy now, huh?" he asks, releasing you and pushing your head down on his cock once more.

He's fucking into your mouth now, small shallow thrusts hitting the back of your throat, your hand working the toy slickly across his balls as he moans more desperately than you've ever heard him moan before. Despite your teasing and edging, he's the one holding back now, the feel of your mouth on his cock, your nails scratching at his belly, and that damned toy sliding across his balls far too much for him to want to let go of any time soon.

But fuck is he close, and if he's not careful he's going to ruin it for himself by holding back and exploding without warning. He's waited too long for that to happen.

"I'm gonna -"

"Mhm!" you groan around his dick, nodding as much as you can with it in your mouth. You steady your hand against his waist, taking over all movement as he stills the slow gyration of his hips, bobbing your head faster as you suck him down. The swirl and flick of your tongue is positively relentless, and everything feels so wet and warm and fucking perfect that he knows he's a goner.

"Hn-uhhhhh, fuck. Ah, fuck, don't stop, don't stop, fuck, ugh!"

He bursts, salty in your mouth, filling your throat as you swallow around him, massaging and gripping his heavy balls as they twitch in your palm through the thick silicone.

You're only a bit of a mess when you pull off of him. Your lips are swollen and tingly, your hand slippery with lube, but you are totally, utterly content. The slick feeling between your legs is still there, so is the throb, but you're as satisfied as you could possibly be.

Pulling yourself to your feet is another story. Your legs have gone a bit numb from sitting on your knees for so long, and you stumble as you fight to right yourself, Joel catching you just before you tumble into the flowerbed. You laugh in his arms, his mouth pressed to yours as he swallows the sound, consumes it, wills it to make home in his body so he never forgets it.

Joel's fingers work their way under your thin shirt. He'd been looking between your face and your nipples the entire time you were on your knees for him, and he suspects you're entirely naked under there. When his fingers meet your sticky thighs, he thinks he's hit the jackpot, and is ready to return the favor through the haze of his own orgasm, when you stop him.

"I, uh... sorted myself out not too long ago. A few times."

"Damn, if I'd known I woulda come right up and helped you out myself. Thought you were sleepin', house was dark. Jus' playing with this sweet thing all along, huh?"

If he had known, he would have known how much you thought about him as you fucked yourself on your fingers. He would have known how you used the plug he left on your bedside table more than any of the others, crying his name out into the lonely expanse of your bedroom as you came quicker, and harder, than you had any right to. If he had known, he'd know how well and truly fucked you were over a man you still knew practically nothing about.

Of course, you knew some physical things. You knew what he looked like naked, how broad he was and how sweaty he got when he fucked you. You knew what he sounded like groaning into your mouth or laughing at a silly quip you'd thrown at him. You knew what he tasted like, and what you tasted like off of his tongue. But that was where your knowledge of him ended. You didn't know what he did for work, or if he even liked his job. You didn't know his favorite food or color. You didn't know what he sang in the car. You didn't know where he lived or what he drove - you didn't even know his full name, and you knew exactly why.

You were scared. Terrified, actually. Terrified to really get to know him, to break that blissful illusion of the tall, dark stranger who rocked your world on a seasonal basis, only to find you didn't like him at all. Or worse - that he didn't like you.

So, when you walk him through your house, egg disposed of and hands washed, listening to the soft snap of his suit being closed up around his bare body, you desperately try to ignore the longing ache in your chest, stopping any request for him to stay, to take you out for coffee in the morning before it stupidly tumbles out of your mouth. That's not what this is.

Instead, you wordlessly reach for your keys, smiling sweetly to him as if you hadn't just been waging war against yourself inside your head.

"What're you doing," he says, pointing to the keys held in your hand. "Goin' somewhere, or comin' home with me?"

"No, smart ass, this is a key, it locks doors. Just gonna lock up after you leave."

Joel's smile drops from his face. And you don't know why, but it has alarm bells immediately blaring in your head.

"What?" you ask nervously, eyes darting around his face as if you're trying to read his mind as he takes a slow step toward you, a frown slowly pulling his brow down as he pieces some mystery together.

"The door locks when it closes, then you the take the key and lock it again after?"

"... Maybe? Yes?"

"Wait. And you're tellin' me you do that every night."

"Yes, I lock my door every night Joel, what's wrong with that." Obviously your lock was no match for his lock picking skills, but you didn't consider that Joel perhaps didn't know how locks worked at all.

"What's wrong with that is you're unlocking your door every night and leaving it unlocked all night."

Your blood turns cold. You don't know why. You could just not believe him, or test for yourself, but something about his reaction, and his seemingly easy ability to get into your house, tells you that what he says is exactly right. It's your turn for your smile to drop, and you can feel it slip off your face just as your heart starts rapidly hopping in your chest.

"Oh. I - I thought..."

"It ain't that kind of lock, sweetheart. You never checked it after lockin' it?"

"No. No I - My last place, the lock, I had to - oh my god." There's dread now. A sickening cocktail of feelings swirling through your body, turning you red hot and cold over and over as you think of all the things that could've happened, how lucky you were they didn't, after all this time. Damn near a year, and you hadn't figured out how to properly work your own fucking door.

"How d'you think I been gettin' in? Didn't exactly climb down the chimney or fly in through the window the last two times. Maybe shouldn'ta done it that first time, but your tree was driving me mad, seein' it bare like that every time I drove past. You weren't in and the door was open, was only gonna be quick and then..."

You're not listening. Your heart has just stopped like it's been hurtled into a brick wall at 100mph. "Wait, you drive past my house?"

"Where else am I gonna fuckin' drive?!"

A thousand million volts straight to your chest, and your heart is beating again, racing, your voice raising with it, brandishing the pointy end of your key at him like it could save you now. "Have you been stalking me?"

"What? No! I live down the fuckin' street, I drive by to get to my house, I thought you knew that."

"Down the street?"

"Yes. I'm hardly gonna come from outta town just to fix your lights and your sink and fuck off again. I was just... bein' neighborly, I guess."

"You've been in my house fixing my shit without me here?"

It's just revelation after revelation. You can't believe it. You can't believe yourself for one, but you can't believe him either. Only you can. You very much believe him, and you hate that you do and you hate that, deep down, you know he's right and you're exactly the kind of idiot he's undoubtedly thinking you are.

"You ain't fuckin' noticed?! You had a light out in here, your kitchen faucet was drippin', your railin' in your hall closet was bust... you didn't notice anythin'? Are you even fuckin' in that pretty head o' yours?"

Suddenly you're feeling very stupid. The door is one thing, the minor home repairs another, but you'd been under the impression you were both on the same page this entire time. That it was some silly game you played, two strangers who had next to no clue about each other. All this time he knew who you were, but you were too fucking preoccupied and distracted and stupid to see that he was right there.

The heat in your checks crackles in your ears, misting over your eyes and making your entire body feel fuzzy. That fight or flight you'd been wondering about for the last few months has suddenly decided to make an appearance, settling on both as you fight back tears with a quivering lip.

"Get out." It's silent fury, building white hot as the seconds tick by with him standing, staring at you like you're the one dressed as a giant rabbit and not him.

"What? Darlin', c'mon, it's okay -"

"Get. Out." You wrench the door open, pushing him and his stupid fucking bunny costume out, shoving the basket of eggs into his arms once he crosses the doorway.

"Bye." You slam the door, the stupid fucking self locking door, and slide down it, head in your hands. You have never felt so fucking stupid.

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #coveted fics #big bawl jawl #never forget the balls #fic: dress up joel

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pachimation · 6 months

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redrawing my very first chiscara comic/art i ever did for chscr day!!

old comic under the cut!!

lol a bunch of sappy semi serious stuff below bc i cant help but be a bit genuine about this ship today :’3

i cant possibly put into words how important this silly little ship and its community mean to me haha,,,, this comic was made in 2021 but i didnt really get serious about chscr until late 2022 after a bunch of pretty bad interpersonal stuff happened and i needed an outlet,, COINCIDENTALLY a certain someone was announced to be playable around then and i was already thought chscr was Pretty Neat™️ so i ended up diving headfirst into the ship. it also gave me a good excuse to work on more comics too!! i’d done a pretty big zhongven comic earlier that year in the summer, but in terms of lore there was only so much i could have worked with at the moment.

childe and scaramouche have that perfect combination of silliness and angst and violence that could be explored or expanded in so many ways and i love love love seeing other people’s interpretations of their dynamic and relationship. they’re so complex,,,,they’re narrative foils,,,they’re narrative parallels,,,they’re trans allegories,,,they’re flies in the spiderweb of the games lore,,,they’re my stupid little meow meows,,, they’re just two losers i want to see make out,,,

in a nutshell, they’re everything to me. well, i hope i get that kind of sentiment across in my own comics,,,,

and i cant get started on all the people ive met through chiscara or the way that having something i can call “my thing”, as in, the thing that i like and that i will spend a lot of time and effort (and money, but lets not talk about that) to surround myself with because it makes me smile. its stupid to say, but being a nerd about these two stupid guys who have never had a single canon onscreen interaction in some random game has made me a much happier and confident person that i could have ever imagined back in my freshman year of college,,, when i say i dont know who i’d be if i hadnt gotten into chiscara, i really do mean it lol

i’m actually surprised i’m making it to over a full year of regular-ishly making art, especially for the same game and ship! thats never happened before and my art has improved so much over this past year!! more than anything else, i’m happy! i get to be excited talking about these characters with my friends and i love to see art of them pop up on the tl. i make stickers of them and decorate my phonecase with them and have little figures of them in my room that i look at when im up late at night working on schoolwork. sometimes just the thought of finishing a comic or daydreaming about a scenario or seeing what my mutuals are up to are some of the few things getting me through a tough day.

,,,,so believe me when i say, to both childe and scara and to everyone else as obsessed with these pathic losers as i am, thank you! i’m having a lot of fun!!!

(also i just found out tumblrs copy/paste doesnt work on my ipad??? idk if this ends up legible i may or may not have deleted smth by accident and im not in a mood to proofread haha)

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #scaramouche #chiscara #scarachilde #my art #comic #no super long rant in the tags this time bc i already made a chscr rant haha #happy chiscara day everybody!!

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aphrogeneias · 6 months

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sympathy for the devil — one-shot

pairing: vampire!eddie munson x slayer!reader x werewolf!steve harrington

summary: during a normal night of your slayer duties, a familiar pair pays you a visit.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: smut (+18), graveyard sex, semi-public sex, threesome, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, praise and degradation, slight choking, eddie is a little mean.

author's note: this was written for the prompt "vampires and werewolves" of my 2023 kinktober entries list. i hope you enjoy it! this au will be expanded in the future.

The fascinating thing about cemeteries at night is not the haunting atmosphere, or the shadows made by the architecture, nor is it the art gracing the stone walls of the tombs and crypts. It’s the sound of the wind coursing through empty corridors between the gravestones, like a low and ever present symphony, a calming presence throughout the night.

On a slow, autumn night, you find it almost comforting. While you sit on top of one of the many tall tombs, clutching on your fluffy coat sleeves to keep you warm, the air current resonates around you and keeps your senses focused. The heavy crossbow strapped to your back does the rest.

A Slayer’s night life is much more interesting in theory. In reality, it requires a lot of planning, sitting and waiting, and it has been your routine since the tender age of fifteen - it got awfully boring sometimes. The dark of the night and the creatures that dwelled in it did not scare you anymore. You’re the one they should be scared of.

Not that there’s anything to scare tonight, except for the occasional roach roaming the ground and startling you whenever you catch a glimpse of them. Are Vampire Slayers allowed to fear insects?

Please, don’t tell anyone.

A rustling in the grass catches your attention. It’s approaching fast and steady, therefore it means one of two things: either a normal human who has nothing better to do on a tuesday night, or something else looking for trouble. You know it’s not a new vampire — the ones you were waiting for this evening — because the newly undead are slow and confused when fresh out of the grave. These heavy steps were already right behind you.

You jump out of the tomb, fast reflexes whipping out your crossbow and promptly aiming at your unknown target. As a warning, for now. You aren’t the shoot first, ask questions later kind of girl.

At the sight of you — chin raised, eyes fierce, crossbow at the ready — the target in question smiles. Full on, white teeth and sharp fangs.

“Missed me?”

The sight makes your knees weak, and not in a good way.

“What are you doing here?”

Eddie Munson looks exactly like he did when he crawled out of whatever hell hole he fell in 1986. Not that you know from experience, you weren't there, but it was obvious. The messy, shaggy hair cut, unruly curls you regrettably dreamed of pulling on again. All the leather, latex and spikes, the a-little-too-tight denim. The devil may care attitude that may have outcasted him one day, now just more of a nuisance than anything.

Despite his carefreeness, you'd seen his scars. He didn't go down without a fight, and whoever sired him wasn't just a regular vampire. It reeked of something far more sinister than what you were used to.

Maybe that's why you'd grown soft on him.

He shrugs. "We were in town. Thought we'd pay a visit to our favorite girl."

You're yet to see the other person Eddie was referring to, but make no mention of it. It's less complicated this way — after numerous encounters with Eddie, you learned that it's better to speak less, lest he uses what you said against you.

When you don't respond, he merely steps closer. His head tilts to the side, curls falling down his shoulder. There's a small lift to the corner of his lips. Asshole. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Happy is an overstatement. Just glad you're here and not wreaking havoc somewhere else."

Eddie chuckled, deep in his throat. You can't deny the effect it has on you. "Are you gonna watch over me? Keep vigil? I could think of better ways to spend our time."

"I could kill you." There is no conviction in your voice, but your eyes remain harsh and your face guarded. “Stake to the heart, problem solved.”

There is, however, a lot of conviction in Eddie's. “You wouldn’t.” In defiance, he draws closer and closer to you, the wooden tip of the arrow triggered in your crossbow digging into his chest, but not hard enough to break through. Despite yourself, you lower your weapon little by little, until it lays useless between the two of you.

“You would miss me too much.” The vampire’s low voice right below your ear, his chest now brushing yours. You hope he can’t hear your growing faster by the second, like a hummingbird stuck inside your ribcage, but you know it’s too late for that. His lips touch your earlobe with every word uttered. “Besides, if you kill me, then who’s gonna make you cum like I do?”

Another voice comes from behind you, startling your already withered nerves. "I don't know. I think I could handle that on my own just fine."

There he is.

Steve Harrington isn't usually as much of a thorn on your side as his partner is. You'd met him in high school, almost a decade ago. Rich parents, cute girlfriend, royalty status — he disappeared one cold October night after your graduation and returned with an excessively hairy problem every full moon.

He doesn't look like the stereotypical werewolf. Clean cut, polo shirts and pressed jeans. His luscious hair always coiffed to perfection. Some things never change.

You're not sure how or when they've met, but Eddie had been a problem since before you took the mantle of the Slayer, a local legend and an overall menace. He'd show up, make a mess and you were there to pick up the pieces, every time.

Eddie took advantage of your soft heart, and used it to toy with you. Play with his food, in his own words. You hate it when he says that, but you can't help but agree deep down. You've been his — their — plaything one too many times, and this time looked no different.

You turn around slowly, crossbow forgotten at your feet. "I was wondering when you were gonna show up."

Eddie leans closer to you, chest to your back. He's cold, but you feel the sleek fabric of his leather jacket through your coat. "So, you missed him, but not me?"

"Didn't say that." You roll your eyes, always impatient around him, even as he runs his nose over your pulse point, going against your every rule, every survival instinct. "It's just that, these days, where there's one, there's the other."

Steve is in front of you in a moment, caging you between them. "And we're here just for you." Caramel eyes with a tinge of yellow smile at you, his nose brushing yours.

It hasn't been that long since the last time you've seen them. Now, between them again, flashbacks of a late night in your room, the open window welcoming the night air in as they took you, shadows dancing on the walls of your bedroom.

"Aren't you two sweet?" You mock them. Though your breathing has picked up and you know they could hear just how fast your heart is beating, the faux sweet tone of your voice drips with venom. "What are you really doing here? I don't have all night."

"She doesn't believe us, Steve. What will it take to convince her?" Eddie's deep voice strokes something inside of you. At the same time, his hands travel under your coat, to the slope of your waist, keeping you rooted in place.

"You know what it takes." Steve's hands, warm in contrast with Eddie's cold ones, wander under your breasts, then down to your jeans, settling on pulling you by the belt loops. "Touch her the right way and she'll stop fooling herself."

"Fooling myself?" Your arms are still limp by your sides, but their hands keep moving, igniting your body.

"I know you want this, sweetheart. You know it too, but you keep fighting it like this is the first time all over again." Eddie is practically purring behind you, "Let go. Let us take care of you."

You don't get to answer. Steve's lips are on yours, and your bodies are moving in sync, like a choreographed dance. You know each other's moves, each other's cues, what makes the other tick. Eddie is running his mouth across the expanse of your neck, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin under your ear, and down between your neck and shoulder.

It makes you pull on Steve's hair harder and in turn, he moans into your mouth, but doesn't stop kissing you. That's until you feel Eddie's sharp teeth dragging on the skin of your neck, not hard enough to break it, but enough to make every nerve stand in attention.

"Eddie," you whisper, strength slipping through your fingers at every touch of the vampire behind you, "no biting, please."

He chuckles, "Someday you're gonna admit you want this."

Steve nuzzles your cheek with his nose, "Eds, let her be."

"She knows it's gonna feel as good for her as it would for me." He turns you around, away from Steve's arms into his, "But that's okay, I can wait."

The kiss he leaves on your lips is an uncharacteristically sweet one. "I still need a taste of you, though."

Lost in his voice, in the smell of cologne and the cigarettes you don't know why he insists in smoking, in the flash of red in his deep brown eyes — predator luring in their prey — you feel yourself being manhandled by four hands, laying you down the elevated tomb you were previously sitting on.

You let go.

You let go like the last time, and the time before that. You've denied yourself too many things before, but this is yours, and as conflicted as you feel, it still feels good.

It feels good when Eddie lays you down, the cold of the stone beneath you giving way to the scorching hot feeling taking over your insides, the tingle on your lower tummy when he removes your jeans along with your underwear.

"You're cute when you're all docile like this, y'know?" He's kissing up your thighs, leaving a trail of spit to the crease of your hip, almost where you need him the most. "Cute, little Slayer, on her back for me."

"Fuck you, Munson." You bite back.

"I'm trying to, baby. Will you let me?" Another kiss is laid to your mound, just above your clit. You let out a shaky breath, vaguely aware of Steve standing just beside you.

"Just get over with it." You mumble through your teeth.

Eddie doesn't waste time. His rough hands are cold on your thighs, keeping then spread open, but his tongue is wet and soft, delivering long licks from your entrance to your clit, flattening his tongue on it. He alternates between licking and sucking, slurping on it, like the slick that it's pouring from your pussy feeds him just as well as your blood would.

Bucking your hips into his face, you whine to the skies above you. Looking to your side, you reach out for Steve, who watches you with haze filled eyes. It's a wordless conversation — you reach for his belt, pulling him by it, and he helps you unfasten it.

He's hard when you pull him out of his boxers, and the size of it never ceases to impress you. Steve pumps his length in his hand as he watches Eddie eat you out, his partner moaning into your pussy and making you moan in turn. "Take your time, honey."

You do. When his hips are right in front of your face, you start by giving kitten licks to his head, and taking it in your mouth to suck on it. Steve blushes a pretty pink, and there's the yellow flash in his eyes again, glimmering in the night.

It's a push and pull between the three of you. You take Steve in your mouth, inch by inch as Eddie feasts on your pussy, taking a minute to lift your shirt up, but still leaving your coat on. You're practically bare, Eddie's hands wandering over your body, tugging and pulling on your tender flesh, as you gag on Steve's cock.

Deep down, you wonder what someone would think if they wandered in on you like this. Deep down, you can't bring yourself to care.

"Look at what a good girl you can be. You just choose not to." Eddie coos from between your legs, just before sucking your clit between his plush lips, making you cry out. "You want to be a good girl for us. You fucking love it."

"Don't fight it, baby." Steve's voice is wrecked, but the movements of his hips don't falter. You feel him twitch deep within your throat. "Fuck, you're making me feel so good. Your mouth is heaven."

"This pussy is heaven too. Can't believe you want to deny me this." Eddie complains, but still pleases you, two of his fingers curling inside of you as his mouth leaves you for a moment. "I'm going to hell anyway, the least you can do is give me what I want."

If you had your mouth free, you would think of something clever to say — but you couldn't, because his long fingers felt too good against the spot that your toes curl and your eyes blur, and his mouth is back to assaulting your clit with quick flicks of his tongue.

You want to warn that you're close, but you can't, because Steve is pulling your hair and coming in your mouth as you suck him dry, the slurping noises spurring all three of you on. His moans cease as you swallow his spend, and his thumb comes to, almost too tenderly, wipe the rest that spills down your chin.

Your eyes plead to him, and Steve says, "Eds, I think she's close."

"Then cum, sweetheart. You can cum, it's okay. Let me have it."

It feels like you're exploding when he delivers on final, long suck to your sensitive, puffy clit. A silent scream comes from your opened mouth, lips forming a perfect 'o'. Your thighs lay limp on each side of Eddie, and he makes his way up your torso. Steve pulls himself into his pants again, and leans down too. They're each watching you with something strange in their gaze, too soft for the lust that permeates you, the smell of sex strong and vibrant still.

"Can we… can we go back to my place, please?" You plead when you regain your voice. "Anyone can see us here."

"Now, what's the fun in that, little Slayer? Scared that they'll see how much of an obedient slut you are for us?"

"You're the obedient slut, Munson."

His hand goes to your neck and squeezes. "We'll see about that."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steddie x reader #steddie x you #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #kinktober 2023

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paradubolical · 2 months

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it's that time again

here's how to make alcohol at home

recipe under the cut. it's long. I warned you.

FOREWARD:

I do not endorse regular substance abuse or at-home distillation without proper training. Don’t hit your kids. Don’t blow up your house. It’s okay to eat shit and die, like, once every three months, not every two weeks, not every weekend. If you’re doing that, there’s not much I can do to help or give in way of advice. But this recipe is not for you. And you should reconsider some stuff if you haven’t already.

That being said.

The following is my personal method for brewing beer, mead, wine, etc. I have utilized this method many times and it has worked wonderfully. I have achieved up to 15% proof. This means that the substance you create should be perfectly drinkable and safe if you follow the instructions and use your head. HOWEVER. You should be prepared to read this whole document before making anything. There are warnings and safety precautions you need to take, and I don’t want anyone to get botulism of some shit because of a shoddy recipe that doesn’t explain absolutely everything.

I also do not encourage the practice of distillation at home. This is not because it is illegal. For those unaware, distillation is the semi-complicated process of heating alcohol to produce hard liquors. While it may sound fun to make Smirnoff from home, there is a reason we do not. Alcohol is extremely flammable. You will set yourself or your valuables on fire.

Ingredients:

1 Packet ActiveDry Yeast

1 Cup Sugar or 1 Cup Sugar Equivalent*

⅔ Gallon Water

Supplies:

1 Gallon Container

1 Suitable Cork or Lid**

3-4 Ballons, Latex Gloves, or even condoms will do honestly***

IMPORTANT:

You must have a space prepared ahead of time to store the JFCB while it brews. Remember. It will stink like hell. Anyone who smells it will know it’s alcohol. Use your noggin okay

NOTES:

In simple terms, alcohol is created when yeast eats sugar. You can use pretty much anything sugary. Don’t use chocolate unless you want to die.

I like to use those strawberry-flavored grandma hard candies. The stuff they make is super fucking strong and tastes like god himself descended from the heavens to kick your ass. It makes what I like to call the JFCB. It’s high-proof enough to burn your throat. So, you know, try to moderate.

You need something to seal the container with once you’re done. Pick wisely.

***

It’s gotta be something that can form a seal around the lip of the container, but also expand like a balloon. These are some of the things I’ve found work best.

INSTRUCTIONS:

Creating the Base

Take your 1-Gallon Container and fill it with half the packet of ActiveDry yeast. You don’t need all of it. Trust me on this one.

Pour in your 1 Cup Sugar or Equivalent.

Pour in the ⅔ Gallon of Water.

Either whisk or mix vigorously. When it starts foaming, you’re done.

Stage 1

Put the Balloon/Latex/Condom over the lip of the container. Make sure it’s secure and extremely tight, but there’s plenty of room for air to fill.

Find your designated Place to Put It. This should be somewhere nobody’s gonna smell it, and also somewhere nobody’s gonna go for the next three odd months.

Set your shit down.

Wait 2-3 weeks.

Stage 2

After 2-3 weeks, the alcohol should stop emitting gas. At this point, it’s safe to cork. Don’t do it beforehand or the container will explode.

I like to put some hot glue or wax over the lip just to make sure it’s sealed extra well. I sometimes put tinfoil too. It doesn’t actually help anything, just looks fancy.

Find somewhere nice to store it. Make sure it’s right side up. Odds are you sealed it pretty poorly if it’s your first time, and you’re gonna be in deep shit if it starts to smell.

If it does, that means you corked it too early. Move it back to your Place to Put It for like a month. Recork it after that time’s up. It might be difficult, but you’re smart. You can do it. It should be good to go after that.

And there you have it. A nice bottle of…. Something?

Enjoy. Or just leave it to sit.

FAQ:

Q: I’m worried about getting botulism from this shit. Is it really safe?

A: Usually, people don’t get botulism. My rule of thumb is that if it smells like shit you should really just throw it away. If you’re really worried, I’d also recommend throwing it away. The paranoia’s not worth it.

Q: I’m a minor. Should I try this at home?

A: Probably not. I’m a minor too, so fuck’s to say what my opinion’s worth.

Q: I want to try vodka/scotch/whiskey. What should I do?

A: You should just not. Or buy it at the store. I don’t know man i’m not the all-seeing eye

Q: I’ve heard you need an airlock for this. Do you need an airlock for this?

A: Absolutely fucking not. They are feeding you airlock propaganda. You don’t need an airlock.

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simplydnp · 22 days

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idk why this matters to me but in the last few months they've been acknowledging so many things I never ever thought they would. pinof and the touching. the phude multiple times. dapc slime (ok they had merch to sell for that one but still)

no but actually. phil literally said 'i thought we weren't acknowledging it' about the phude and now they just bring it up all the time.

pinof reacts... i still can't believe we're in a post pinof-reacts universe. how did that happen. i was changed permanently--like something shuffled in my dna when i got the notif for pinof reacts 1. this is not a physical reaction but a chemical one that cannot be undone. for something that was so... sacred. and integral. to their existence and history. pinof wasn't generally talked about unless it was pinof time. and even then it was 'it'll be up soon' or 'we just posted it' and then Never talked about outside of that. especially not the first one! we freak out about the We Know You Know in the newsletter but it's Always been like that with pinof 1. so to see them--new (& natural 🥺) hair for them both, in a house they bought and built together, in the first few months of giving the gaming channel a second chance--reflect on how it all began? absolutely devastating. and to lean into moments and discuss them in new ways. in territory previously not breached! the 'they're toUching'?!?!? the '11 hour fuck session'!?!? the '£9000 champagne'?!?!? like hey we're not supposed to talk about that, dan and phil might see!! shhh!! but they're the ones saying it!! absolutely wild.

in a way, it had to happen. especially with where we're at now (them literally selling merch of them holding hands). in order for them to move beyond that... mindset? i guess? that a lot of fans had, they had to defang it. i really see it as one of the biggest walls they've broken down in the way they communicate with us. the 'hey. it's okay. we've seen it. it's not a big deal. we will absolutely make fun of you for it though. but we're good.'

i'm just really curious whose idea it was. (lbr it was probably phil given dans not a react kinda guy. but i'd be lying if i said i didn't want to be in the room where it happened when they talked about actually doing it or not, and what it would mean) (big ad revenue thats for sure 🤣 get it kings)

i will never be able to get phil's 'they touched' out of my head and at this point i wouldn't want to. it's absolutely earned. and i guess it makes me a masochist to enjoy the psychic damage it inflicts on me, but such is life i suppose.

the crafts mention really surprised me! i had contemplated a few different scenarios in how they'd go about it, and i'll be honest i feel like they could've committed to the bit a little more but they're forgiven. like what about glitchy interstitials! cuts to the merch website. found footage inserted between sections! i recognize they don't want to 'scare' their usual audience wirh sudden cuts to intense/graphic content but my immersionnn. absolutely shattered by 'oh we have new merch now btw'. cmon boys you love to lie to us. say theres merch up but you dont know where it came from. just that we should buy it 👀 or idk, something clever. and i recognize i may sound like a spoilt brat bc i just got a 14 minute long masterpiece of an unexpected dapc revival, but my immersion. i mean i already bought the merch before they shilled it anyways so it didn't influence me regardless 🤣

ultimately we really are in a new era. even beyond just the revival. i think they're really finding their stride--not only in their content (evidenced by a semi-regular schedule) but also creatively, in doing what they want to do, how they want to do it, and truly not giving that much of a fuck anymore. and i'm really happy for them. phil talked a bit about this in his 'rating my icons' video, where he's kind of decided he doesn't care what people on twitter think, and how it's been good for him, and i think we're seeing that reflected in not only his content, but also the gaming channel. they play what they want. they say what they want. and it's just fun. dan going on the record to say he's really enjoying it makes me so happy to hear, because literally december 2022 he believed he'd disappear after WAD. and now, instead, he gets to play games and make stupid jokes and smile and laugh multiple times a week, and he's really happy about it. he gets to be silly and goofy and crude without having to Stress about it. i keep saying it but they're so settled now. and as someone who's followed them through big changes and turbulent times, getting to see them happy after everything... it brings a lot of hope. and i know theyre millionaires. but there's something to looking at someone you fell in love with 15 years ago the same then as you do now. but instead of it being something scary, something you have to hide, something that feels like it can consume you and everything you have--it gets to be something beautiful. and regular. and embraced. you've read this far you get to listen to me wax poetic about them.

we've been thoroughly boiled and maybe, just maybe, it's warming our hearts too.

#thank u for sending this. ive been writing non-stop since it arrived in my inbox #there is nothing i love more than someone pointing me in a direction and saying alright go for it!#i am always only a few moments away from a dnp breakdown and im glad to share this journey with you all #dnp #dan and phil #c.text #answered #phan #<- for the fandometrics #edited tags: holyshit this is a 1k words w/ my tags. jfc. what is Wrong with me. it took less than an hour but idk when u sent it exactly

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undertakerslxt · 11 months

Text

pay me back | undertaker x f!reader

title; pay me back

warnings; mentions of pregnancy/forced pregnancy. some implied non/dub-con. major teasing. humiliation kink. unprotected sex (wrap ur willy before u do the silly!). finishing inside. toys (nipple/clit clamps). undertaker being sort of cruel. degradation/slut shaming. desk sex/coffin sex. vibrator. major possessiveness from ut. use of titles (sir). definite bdsm. brief bondage. implied murder of someone else. overstimulation.

summary; you're a noblewoman with a job to report back information to the queen, and the mysterious undertaker is your informant. your usual payment is sex, but after you go to a different undertaker for information, he gets angry and decides to teach you a lesson by playing a little game with you.

song inspo; dangerous (for your entertainment also works well)

word count; 1.8k

notes; i've said this before and i will say it again. it is a federal crime undertaker does not exist. also it’s 4am, i’m tired and it’s not beta read, so i apologize if it seems rushed or underwritten.

The shop was quiet when you stepped in, and you blinked to adjust your eyes to the darkness. "Undertaker?" You called, glancing about.

"So you've finally shown your face. I was wondering when you would be brave enough to come back here after your little betrayal."

Shit. He knew.

"You weren't home—"

A hand shot from the darkness and pulled you to the nearest coffin. Unbeknownst to you, while talking, he had locked the door and turned the sign to closed. He wasn't about to have this time interrupted. "You could have come by later, or waited for me," his voice growled in your ear. Deft hands made quick work of pulling your skirts up to your waist. He pressed his knee between your legs, holding your hands behind your back. "Instead, someone decided to go to another shop for information, and if a little birdie told me right, even flirted."

"I didn't! I was only asking for further information on the recent murders—"

"Hush, doll, I'm the one talking."

You shivered as a cold nail ran up the back of your leg, then lightly flicked your womanhood. "Did you show that other undertaker your pussy? Perhaps you just showed off your cleavage, hoping he would give you anything you wanted."

You swallowed.

A light smack to your thigh told you he wanted an answer now. "Well, did you get what you wanted? Showing off your body?"

"He didn't give me the information I needed, no," you whispered, unable to look behind you.

A dark chuckle sent shivers up your spine. "You should know by now I'm the only one who can give you what you need. Information and otherwise." He pressed his knee harder into you, making you whimper. "What would your beloved queen say if she knew you were whoring yourself out for information?"

"I'm not, I'm—"

"Oh, but you are." His grip on your wrists tightened. "Coming in here asking for priceless information, knowing my price isn't laughter for you. Spreading your legs so easily for me, letting me bury myself inside you time and again until you're dripping. But you like that, don't you? Being used as a cum dump. Because you wouldn't be on birth control if you didn't. Here's the thing, doll — once you let me touch you, you became mine, and I don't like when my playthings entertain other men."

"I'm on birth control because I cannot get pregnant," you snapped back, trying to wrest your wrists away. "Imagine what people would say if a noblewoman had a child by an undertaker!"

"Dove, they wouldn't say anything, because the second you were pregnant, I wouldn't be letting you out of my sight. I wouldn't want you to run away from me or our family~ But enough of that. I do intend to punish you."

"Look, I won't go to him anymore!" You didn't like his tone, or how you couldn't see what he was about to do. You may fuck the man on a semi-regular occasion, but you didn't actually know him, or what lines he wouldn't cross with you. And you were just now realizing that.

"I've already taken care of him, doll. You won't be going to anyone else ever, I promise you that."

Cool air fanned your hot skin as he ripped your underwear off. He pulled your dress and shift off as well without letting you free, then tied your hands together with a soft fabric. "I was waiting for the right time to use this little toy."

He turned you over, finally letting you see him. Chartreuse eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, clearly angry. He had lost his hat and usual outer robe, leaving his tight-fitting clothes. He held up a set of clamps with individual chains running down to merge into a single chain, which ended at a third clamp. His smirk made you shiver.

"I have the information you want, but since you decided you couldn't rely on me, you can find it yourself. Wearing nothing but these."

"You can't seriously expect—"

His hand gripped your chin firmly. "You humiliated me by not only going to another man, but daring to tell said man I couldn't do what you needed. Therefore, I am going to repay the favor. I am being kind; no one else is here and no one will walk through that door for the rest of today. Keep arguing and I'll make it worse for you."

You swallowed. "Y... Yes, sir."

His smirk returned. "Good girl." He knelt down, and a second later, you felt something cold close around your clit. He pulled the toy up so he could do the same with the other clamps. You shivered as he attached the clamps to your nipples. "To make it more fun..." He hit something and you gasped as the clamp on your clit began vibrating slowly. "Every ten minutes, I will turn this up. Cum before you find the information or I give you permission, and you've failed."

"May I have a starting clue, please?" You breathed, hoping he'd be nice. "Just an area to look in, maybe?"

"Well, you do look beautiful right now... It's a red folder."

That should be easy enough, right? But you had a sinking feeling as his eyes gleamed. "Good luck, doll."

Thirty minutes in and you were still nowhere close to finding the folder. Undertaker watched you with a predatory smile, tapping the remote against his chin. "Want another clue, doll?" He'd ask, but you didn't trust his smirk. You weren't sure what he would want for the clue now.

And yet, you were at your wit's end. You had searched every bookshelf, every nook and cranny, and you had already tried prying more clues out of him without giving anything in return. That buzzing between your legs was driving you crazy, making you wet and sensitive without any relief of an orgasm. You weren't about to give in, though, so you faced him. "Yes, please."

"Please, what?" He taunted.

"Yes, please, sir," you amended. "Please, give me a clue. Anything."

He was toying with you, and you hated it. You hated losing, especially in this twisted little game of his.

So you marched over to him, where he was lounging, and before he could react, you unbuttoned his pants. You carefully pulled his cock out, watching as it immediately stood to attention, tip flushed and red. You straddled his lap and groaned softly as you sank down onto him. "Please," you breathed, rolling your hips, "give me a clue."

His hands gripped your hips and he bit back a moan, thrusting upwards. "Is this your way of seducing one out of me? I thought you weren't a slut."

"Aren't I? For you? You make big speeches about me, but God knows you can't wait to rip my clothes off as soon as I set foot in your shop." You whimpered as he hit a certain spot, toes curling with the effort to not cave and orgasm right there.

"Well, that admission is beautiful enough," he grunted. A few more thrusts and you feel warmth spurt inside of you. You hated how much you loved it. He panted for a second, eyes locked onto yours. After a moment of regaining his breath, he tilted his head. "Almost beautiful enough to unlock the location."

You startled as the vibrator turned up a notch, and your vision almost went black. Fuck, you needed to cum so badly. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. Your legs were trembling from the effort to hold back, your body on fire from the pleasure of the toy. One of his hands gripped your chin again and gently turned it, so your gaze met his desk.

"Oh- Oh!"

At the same time, his other hand had pressed the clamp more firmly onto your clit, and you nearly came right there. With a grunt, biting your lip so hard it would surely bleed, you managed to fight that high off. "Y-Your desk...?"

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" He crooned in your ear. "Go on. Try my desk, doll."

You shakily stood, not even caring how your arousal dripped down your thighs, or how his cum leaked out of you. You stumbled to the desk and began frantically pulling the drawers open. You almost cried in frustration when all but two opened, not bothering to look at the other drawers. He surely had it locked up.

Undertaker came up behind you, hands now on your breasts. "Now, which one do you think has the folder? Guess correctly and you win. Guess wrong, and you lose."

The right drawer seemed like it might... but so did the left drawer. You almost couldn't think, hands gripping the edge of the desk until your knuckles turned white. At this rate, you had moments before you lost, and he knew it. So which one would he put the folder into? He wouldn't make this so easy, would it?

Your eyes widened.

"It's..." Your voice broke. "It's not in there," you managed, turning. "Is it? You've had it this whole time, haven't you?"

He merely tilted his head, watching you. "Is that your final answer?"

I can't lose...

"Yes." You stated as firmly as you could, leaning against the desk for support. "I know you have it."

A grin spread over his lips. "Clever~" He reached into his shirt, producing the desired folder. "It's all yours, but first..."

In a flash, he had you on top of the desk, cock buried inside you. The vibrations increased on your clit as he thrust, and in a second, you tumbled into pure pleasure. Loud moans filled the shop as he fucked into you, pushing you through your orgasm. Your vision went white now, head spinning as you could feel nothing but him and yourself, the only two people in the world for this moment.

"UNDERTAKER!"

Darkness greeted your vision when you finally woke. Something soft was all around you, and you groaned. "Nhm...?"

"Careful, doll," a voice crooned by your ear. "That was quite the orgasm you had. Almost thought I lost you there." You felt something warm on your face. "Shh, don't fight. I'm cleaning you up."

His face came into focus after you squinted your eyes, trying to clear the blurriness. Gone was the cruel amusement. His expression was soft, almost... sweet. He continued cleaning you up, careful to avoid your sensitive parts.

"I... passed out?" You rasped.

"After doing such a good job of winning, yes. You're in my bed now. You'll need to rest for a day or so," he explained, pulling back. "Especially when you're going to be in such a fragile condition soon. I've already contacted your estate, and they know you'll be taking a leave of absence."

"Wait, what?" You rubbed at your eyes, noticing you were indeed in his bed. He'd never let you up here before. What the hell was going on? But you were too tired to fight, just watching him. "Fragile condition...?"

"Isn't it wonderful? I'm certain you'll be with child soon. After all, that little betrayal made me realize I should officially claim what's mine, and what I want. Don't worry, you'll be a mother soon." He chuckled.

"So, doll, how do you feel about a nighttime wedding?"

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #undertaker x reader #kuroshitsuji undertaker x reader angst #undertaker x reader smut #minors dni

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call-me-strega · 7 months

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How to Become a Step-Dad: Lore

Edited: 10/16/2023

While I am currently in between writing chapters I thought I’d release a little bit of the lore that will be incorporated in the story or that I think is canon but might not get mentioned since the story is mostly Jason’s perspective.

What’s up with Jason?

So in this au Jason went through basically all his canon backstory and stuff already so that’s established and done with. Some smaller points that may or may not come up are things like his possession of the all-blades, his time on Nanda Parbat, Talia essentially adopting him, or his experience being Catatonic. Speaking of which, I have decided his resurrection came from his righteous anger combining with the ectoplasm in Gotham’s atmosphere, and he is essentially a revenant for the purposes of this story (he’s about a fourth ghost? Or maybe 3/4ths? 3/5ths? Idk yet).

He does already have a reputation in the Infinite Realms as “The Avenger” and “Son/Knight of Gotham” due both to the existence of city spirit Lady Gotham and the ghosts of people who’ve died in Gotham. He actually has a rabid fan club who want him to kill the Joker( if he became a ghost he’d be tried and banished to the nightmare realm).

I am also going to use “the pits are corrupted ectoplasm” trope in the story. However, they’re gonna be corrupted less in the sense of being straight-up poison and more in the sense of eating a weird mushroom with weird side effects (rage, slightly sentient/vocal core, white trauma streak)

As for his relationship with the Bat Family, we’ve moved to a point where everyone’s more or less made up. For Jason and Bruce specifically, they are now more civil. Their relationship is less “ What you’re doing is wrong and you have to stop.” vs “ I’m just doing what you won’t” and now it’s more “ I don’t fully approve of your decisions, but as long as you’re not killing people and coming home for dinner, I don’t care enough to nag you about it” vs “ You’re my dad and I love you. Plus actively killing people is no longer super necessary so I will give in but I still enjoy pissing you off”.

In terms of sibling relationships, Jason has like the cool older brother vibe but he’s actually the semi-responsible one that feeds you when you come over and makes you do homework and sleep properly. He’s still down for shenanigans but is low-key a mom friend. (Dick is not the “responsible one” he is a certified chaos gremlin. Not to say he can’t be responsible, he’s just not the one enforcing these things. He cares more about your social, emotional, and/or, mental state and would help you skip school to steal a penguin or go to ComiCon or smth if you said it was a “mental health day”). I think he has semi-regular hangouts with his siblings on a weekly basis.

I like to think that he and Damien did have a bit of interaction when they were both with the League so they do have a close bond there. He’s definitely apologized to Tim a bunch of times and they’re pretty close now they like scheming together, especially on how to annoy Bruce. Overall he’s largely made up and re-integrated with the family. It’s going to be mentioned later in the story that they resurrected his civilian identity as Jason Todd, so he can publicly be seen with his family and also to do work with the family.

This brings me to my next point of lore: that as Jason gains more control of Crime Alley, he focuses his efforts more into charity work. He’s helping the people get their education, get better access to healthcare, get better job opportunities, running soup kitchens, etc., and doing more humanitarian-focused work. He has got a pretty firm grip on crime and drugs so he’s shifting his focus more towards helping the people now. Even just being part of his gang can be helpful because he works with the Goonion (Goon Union) and offers good insurance plans and stuff. That’s part of the reason they resurrect his civilian identity is so that he can start working with/taking over the Wayne foundation.

What’s up with Danny and Ellie?

Okay so first things first in the story Danny is going to be the ghost prince (not king yet for a long while) and he acts as a junior member on the Council of Ancients who rule with Clockwork acting as his main regent. Meaning that Council + Danny make decisions and Clockwork is Danny’s ghost dad and is formal regent but mostly just handles things with help from the council. Essentially, after at least a couple thousand years Danny will be considered “of age” or eligible and take over the Infinite Realms; and after several billion he’ll become the ancient of space/reality and essentially become a god or primordial being of sorts. Also being of age is different than being an adult ghost. To be an adult ghost you need to have been a ghost for at least 20 years after your lifetime, unless you’re an eternal kid ghost like Youngblood or BoxLunch. So ghosts like Technus, the Box Ghost, and Lunch Lady are all adult ghosts. Whereas ghosts like Johnny 13, Kitty and maybe Ember either aren’t yet adult ghosts or became adult ghosts recently. Ellie ranks as princess and second-in-line, she’ll go through a similar process and eventually join the Council, become a diplomat, and/or rule as regent if/when Danny leaves the Ghost Zone. I’m gonna say all other afterlife’s and stuff are connected to the Zone and their respective leaders make up Phantom’s Court. (So basically he’s king and they are like the nobles). They all govern their own territories and Phantom handles any rouges or conflicts. When Ellie gets older she’ll move between realms on diplomatic missions to lighten some of Danny’s work. I haven’t decided what this means for anyone who is currently mortal and/or liminal. I might just have them live, fulfilling lives and pass away and move on to different afterlives. Or I might have them take places within the Phantom’s court or as advisors. And on the topic: Jazz, the Fenton parents, Sam, and Tucker are all fairly liminal, Jazz and the Dr.s Fenton a bit more than the other two. Everyone in Amity has a little bit of liminality, but not enough to affect their life spans or anything. Also, Vlad is still currently his usual, creepy, Frootloopy-self. But after screwing him over in this fic eventually, I want to have him arrested by the ghost police and spend several thousand years in ghost prison before he gets let out. Then he works on improving his relationships and post-redemption he’s going to be like that annoying, overbearing Uncle who tries to be cool and annoys you but ya don’t hate him. Another thing I wanted to go over is their obsessions. I wanna say the halfas all have dual obsessions bc it fits nicely with the half-and-half concept. Danny is protection and space. Ellie is freedom and family. Vlad is power and love. If I include Dark Danny he’ll be power and destruction and a reformed version would have control and safety.

As for his rouge gallery? Danny is able to help them find healthier outlets for their obsessions so they've become less of an issue. Now they kind of just act like Danny's annoying friends and/or extended family. The ones who were straight-up evil though are on indefinite time out in ghost prison though (e.g. Spectra and Freakshow). The gang still comes to visit him and Ellie from time to time though and he regularly sees them when he goes back to the realms for prince duties and stuff.

What’s up with Amity?

So after he turns 18, Danny decides to tell his parents about being Phantom. He’s legally an adult now and has been working toward getting emancipated anyways so he might as well. They took it like how I imagine slightly homophobic parents would react to learning their child was lgbt (side note: the Fentons are pro-lgbt. When Danny told them he was bi Jack said “Me too son!”, happy to have something to bond over). He tells them about the portal and becoming Phantom. They believe him and they are devastated and guilty.

In the next few weeks, they get into a couple arguments over them wanting to “fix” his ghost half. He blows up and tells them that by doing that they’d end up killing him and that Phantom is a part of who he is and they’ll just have to accept that. That night Danny leaves and with help from Sam stays in an apartment with Jazz near her college. He takes a two-year gap to get a handle of Infinite Realms and GIW stuff, plus doing a few small jobs to save up some money. Within that time the GIW gets taken down and the Fentons reach out bc their love for their children is stronger than their dislike of ghosts. Their relationship is still strained but getting better.

Dani also gets de-aged during that time and Danny decides to take care of her (partly for healing purposes and partly cause he wants to). His friends help forge documentation for her and he fights with Vlad over custody but ultimately wins and makes him pay child support. He’s saved up enough money and with a little help from Sam and Vlad gets an apartment in Gotham. He got a scholarship and is doing mostly online classes at Gotham University. He’s currently working part-time (I have not decided as what but I’m leaning toward mechanic). Vlad paid to have him enroll Ellie in Gotham Academy so she wouldn’t have to go to public school and Danny allowed it since it’d get her a better education. Ellie is going to start first grade in about 3 months since they moved to Gotham in June. (Just for reference, Damian is currently 12 and in seventh grade since I've decided not to move him up.)

Everyone in Amity knows about the discord between the Fenton's before Danny leaves. They don't necessarily know about Phantom though. Everyone kind of assumes Danny came out, fought with his parents then left. When some of them find out about Ellie another rumor circulates she was the topic of the fight. Regardless, the Fenton drama is kinda an open secret and most people sympathize with Danny. Whenever he comes back to town to visit a lot of people are really nice to him and Ellie, which he thought was weird until he learned what people thought was going on. Now he just takes advantage of their misunderstandings.

What's up with the GIW?

The GIW manages to get a hold of Ellie after Danny leaves Amity. When Vlad and Danny +Team Phantom find out they team up to rescue her. Danny also recruits people that he's met during his time away. For this mission, he recruits Constantine and Captain Marvel/Shazam. When the Fentons find out they want in too, almost as an apology gesture. They no longer want to try and "fix" Danny and are okay with Ellie's existence. They view her like family and want to help out. A lot of their views are still prejudiced but they're getting better, however, that's not the only thing straining their relationship. This is a step in the right direction though.

So they go in and infiltrate first in order to get Ellie out. Then they destroy the facilities behind them as they leave. Constantine and Captain Marvel then go back to the JL to work on getting to Anti-Ecto Acts repealed, something that is still in progress during the beginning of this fic. That's why they are gonna lay low while they’re in Gotham. The GIW attempted to experiment on Ellie while they had her but the containment unit they used destabilized her ectoplasm. She retains all her memory but is mentally and physically de-aged. Frostbite assesses her and says she needs to get extra ecto and to be near another halfa aura to help develop and stabilize her own systems. That leads to Vlad and Danny fighting over custody before Danny inevitably beats Vlad into the ground and walks away with custody and child support.

I think a full reveal about identities will happen after Danny gets confirmation that his existence is no longer illegal. It'll probably be after Jason asks him out but before he accepts because he wants Jason to know what he's getting into. Jason will probably be shocked but accept it relatively quickly. I haven't decided yet if I want him to live a mortal life with them and then die (either to move on or become a full ghost) or if I want him to be basically immortal like them and give him a position in the court.

~~~~ Find chapter one here

Chapter 2 now here

#long post #dc x dp #dead on main #jason todd x danny fenton #danny fenton #danielle fenton #jason todd #info dump #lore dump #How to Become a Step-Dad in 5 Easy Steps #HBSD #How to Become a Step-Dad in 5 Easy Steps lore #HBSD lore

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bluekidchaos · 7 months

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Kinktober day 4 - Emily Prentiss

this may be a little bit bad idk, but this is a dream scenario, who wouldn't want these two dimming the fuck out of you

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader x Aaron Hotchner

Prompt: Humiliation

Warnings: 18+, bi/pan!reader, voyeurism, humiliation, sex toys, fingering, masturbation (male), jerking off with panties, oral (on sex toy), maybe a bit of dub-con if you squint, pet names

Words: 3.1k

Can also be read on AO3!

Kinktober masterlist. Regular masterlist.

It was Friday night, date night for you and Emily. At 5 pm you started gathering your things and getting ready to go home with your girlfriend. You were the two last people in the office, except Hotch, of course, most had opted for an early night.

You walked over to her desk and leaned over her, putting your chin on the top of her head. "You ready to go, baby?"

Emily whined a little before spinning around in her chair, "I'm sorry, I'm gonna have to stay a bit late. But how about you go home and prepare for the night, hm?"

Pouting at her you leaned over again to kiss her before sighing. "Okay, I'll see you at home." You kissed her once again and grabbed your jacket to leave.

The second you got into your shared apartment your phone dinged with a message,

Put on that new pretty lingerie for me and be ready, we're trying something new tonight ;)

The anticipation of what she had planned made you shiver, you went into action. You take a shower, washing off your body to feel fresh and moisturizing with a peach-scented moisturizer after. Feeling refreshed and giddy you dig through your closet to find the newest addition in your somewhat extensive lingerie collection (Emliy really loved spoiling you with them), and you pick up the light pink babydoll and matching panties.

After putting the set on you make sure the box with your toys is sitting out and then you wait. You really wanted to start without her, have her coming home to you whimpering on the bed as you fingered yourself but you didn't wanna spoil her surprise so you stayed sitting on the bed.

Another 10 minutes passed and your phone finally dinged with the message that she was on her way up. You were a little nervous, wondering which of the scenarios you had discussed at earlier times she would be playing out tonight.

The door opened and closed, steps sounding from the hallway making their way to the bedroom. For a second it sounded like more than one pair of footsteps but you didn't have time to ponder on it before Hotch stepped into the bedroom.

Your eyes widened and you were frozen in place, what the fuck was your boss doing in your bedroom? You snapped out of your daze and quickly looked for something to cover yourself with.

Emily stepped into the room after Hotch and laughed a bit at your reaction, "Oh no, babe, don't cover yourself up. Let him see you."

You could almost physically feel his eyes roaming your semi-exposed body but you did what your girlfriend instructed and let the blanket you had grabbed drop to the floor, now standing up in front of them. "What's going on, Em?"

They had both moved into the room more, cornering you to the bed and making you have to sit down again. You looked up at them from your place, one of Emily's hands coming up to cup your chin. "Remember how we discussed a possible threesome?" You nodded. "Right, I told you I don't like sharing, which is still true but I wanted to treat you. So I invited Aaron to watch me fuck you til you become a brainless little whore."

She finished the sentence with a quick kiss on your lips. The sweetness of her kiss almost distracted you from what she had said. Your gaze wandered onto Hotch, you felt your stomach twisting with pleasure at the mere thought of him seeing you like this. He was looking down at you with a rare smile, "Are you okay with this?"

You nodded again before responding, assuming he wanted a verbal answer. "God, yes." He smiled at you again. You had always been into the idea of being fucked by two people but having one person just watch made you feel a certain way, it felt embarrassing and thrilling all at once, making you squirm a bit.

You hoped they didn't notice your thighs pressing together subtly but of course, they did, you're all profilers after all.

"Now, he already knows the rules, no touching you or actually participating. He's only watching." Emily started speaking again, making you turn your head back to her and you pouted a bit at him not being allowed to touch you but you understood.

It made Em laugh again however and she turned to Aaron -it was kinda weird calling him that- with a smirk, "She kinda has a crush on you, it's kinda cute actually. I'm sure she'd be all over you if she wasn't mine, she's a bit needy like that."

You zoned out a bit and didn't hear the rest of their conversation, just looking at the two of them and imagining what this was gonna be like, and next thing you know Aaron is sitting on a chair facing the bed and Emily is standing next to the bed by the toy box.

He had discarded his suit jacket and tie, the top three buttons of his shirt were undone and his sleeves rolled up. He looked absolutely gorgeous like this. His legs were spread a bit and you could see a bit of an outline, he looked huge.

"Like what you see, sweetie?" Your cheeks burned with humiliation at having been caught staring but it seemed to affect Aaron in a different way. He brought his hand to his crotch and palmed himself while looking at you. You almost had to look away but you couldn't.

You looked back up to Em and she was looking at you with a mischievous glint in her eye, "How about you put on a show, strip for us." She encouraged you to stand in between them as she took a seat at the foot of the bed.

You felt nervous, you had done this before -many times in fact- but never with more than one set of eyes on you. You were facing Aaron, his hand still resting on his now larger bulge. Taking a deep breath you dragged your hands up your body, catching some of the flowing fabric and pulling it up with your movements before coming up and squeezing your tits. The movement continued up and over your shoulders pulling down your shoulder straps while your hands traveled down again. Letting the baby doll fall to the floor, exposing your breasts to Aaron's intense gaze.

Your hands continued their travel down your stomach now and over your hips, thumbs catching in the hems of your panties, and slowly pulled them down your legs. You bent deep to take your panties off, giving your girlfriend a good view of your ass and pussy in the progress.

You could feel your panties were practically drenched at this point as you picked them from the floor, you decided to give them to Aaron. Sure he couldn't touch you but you wanted him to feel how wet you were.

He groaned when his hand made contact with the lace, feeling it between his thumb and two fingers, your wetness clinging onto his fingers. "Fuck, sweetheart," He caught you off guard by putting his fingers into his mouth to taste you and you could feel your pussy clench at the sight. "You taste heavenly."

Before you could respond you felt Emily place kisses on your neck and shoulders, making your head fall back. You didn't know when but you could feel that she had taken her own clothes off, now only in her bra and matching panties.

Her hand roamed up your body, groping your tits and rolling your nipples between her thumb and forefinger. "Isn't she just the prettiest girl you've ever seen, boss?"

You couldn't help but moan at her actions and words, she was practically biting at your neck now, bruising it to her liking. The use of 'boss' reminding you of exactly what kind of situation you were in and you looked at Aaron, he had pulled his dick out by now and you almost choked on your own spit seeing it, Em's choice of words had clearly gotten to him too because his cock twitched and he gave a grunt.

Emily pulled you back by your hips and had you sitting between her legs against the headboard, she tried spreading your legs open but a wave of embarrassment hit you. You were about to fully expose yourself to your boss. "Come on, pretty girl." She started kissing your neck again to make you relax. "Show him your pretty little pussy." She managed to get her legs under yours and spread open your legs with her own.

Aaron audibly moaned at the sight of you. "Prettiest fucking cunt I've ever seen, baby."

You blushed and turned your head to the side, you really were about to have sex in front of your boss. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, you were impossibly turned on but you felt so ashamed by it which in turn made you wetter.

"No, no baby. Look at him, don't be rude to our guest now." Emily gripped your face and harshly turned it back to face Aaron who was now slowly stroking himself. His eyes fixated on the mess between your legs.

While still holding your face with her left hand the other trailed down your body, sending shivers down your spine. Her right hand descended down to your core softly grazing your clit before slipping down further. She pressed two fingers to your hole and because you were so turned on already they slipped in with zero resistance. All three of you moaned in unison.

You wanted to throw your head back but the grip on your cheeks was still holding your head up making you watch the scene in front of you. Watching your boss getting lost in lust as he stroked himself with a steady pace, his eyes came up to meet yours, almost studying your face.

Her fingers were working you at a fast pace, her thumb coming up to rub at your clit. Emily was magic with her fingers, making you come undone in a matter of minutes. She knew exactly where to touch you and what pace you liked.

"You're taking my finger so well, my pretty little slut."

You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of your first orgasm, your moaning got higher in pitch and she felt your cunt clench on her fingers.

"Awe, baby are you gonna come on my fingers?" Her tone was mocking but it only brought you closer to the edge. Her hand finally let go of your face and your head fell back on her shoulder as you bucked your hips wildly.

"Y-yes.. oh god." The hand that had been holding your head went down to fondle your breast and pinched your nipple hard, driving you over the edge. "A-ah, fuuck."

Emily worked you through your orgasm before moving you to sit on your own, she climbed over you quickly and kissed you deeply, her ass was in the air and her chest pressed against yours. No doubt giving Aaron quite a show.

She pulled away and gave you a few kisses around the face in between words of praise, telling you how good you were for her and how pretty you were coming on her fingers before getting off the bed and going to the toy box.

Emily pulled out a harness and put it on the bed before pulling out a pink dildo you hadn't seen before. "Aaron was kind enough to pick this one out for you, honey. Isn't that sweet of him?"

You looked over at Aaron who was also watching Emily prepare the harness before putting it on. "It's the closest I could find, I'm sure it'll do the trick." He smirked back at you with a knowing look.

His words didn't register until Emily was at the foot of the bed again, oh my god, this was his dick. Or at least as close as it got in size and length. You were about to be fucked by your boss's dick by your girlfriend while he was watching.

"How about you show him you're thankful by showing him how well you can take it? On your knees, slut." Your body went on automatics at this point, getting off the bed and on your knees.

The dildo was big, maybe seven or eight inches, and thick. You looked over at Aaron's dick and indeed they looked similar.

You raised up on your knees so you were face height with Emily's crotch, you tease the cock head with your tongue, running it up and down a small area and swirling it around before taking as much of the dildo in your mouth.

This was bigger than any dick or dildo you had had before, only being able to take half into your mouth before gagging on it and pulling back, you looked up at Em with teary eyes. "Poor baby, is it too big for you? Can't take your boss's cock?"

You could hear the squelching noise of Aaron's hand working himself and the groans he let out. You tried taking the dildo again, this time not letting up when you gag around the length. Spit dribbles down your chin and tears fill your eyes.

You have to pull back for air, Emily is cooing at you from her position over you. "Awe, that's a pretty pathetic attempt baby. Gotta try harder than that, especially if you wanna get fucked by it. How are you gonna take it in your little cunt if you can't even take it in your mouth?"

The tears in your eyes were falling at her harsh words, humiliation flashing through you. Aaron had gone through all this trouble to find the perfect dildo for you and you couldn't even take it. You pout and dare look at him through the corner of your eye, he was breathing heavily and his hand had stilled but still gripped his cock.

"I'll be good I promise, I'll do better!" You looked at Aaron fully now, tears running down your cheeks, chin covered in dried spit. You looked like a mess.

"Oh, I'm sure you will sweetheart. You just gotta try harder, yeah?" The look in his eyes looked sincere. "Remember to breathe through your nose."

You nodded and turned back to the dildo with determination, taking it back into your mouth, going slow to not hurt yourself. You bobbed your head back and forth a couple of times, each time going further in until all of a sudden your nose nudged the strap. You had taken it all the way!

Both Aaron and Emily moaned and praised you. "Fuuuck, good girl."

"Such a good slut."

You pulled back again and gave a triumphant smile at the both of them and Emily stroked your hair, "Ready for the big finish?"

You practically dashed up on the bed making both of them laugh.

"Here baby, let me lay down first, I want you to ride me." Emily placed herself in the middle of the bed, half sitting, and leaned back on her forearms.

You climbed over her to place yourself over the silicone toy but Emily stopped you, "No no, face him." You felt heat creep up your cheeks as you turned around to face Aaron before lowering yourself onto the dildo. Looking into his eyes as you sank down onto his cock.

Moaning as it reached deep inside you, almost like it was in your gut. Your hands grasped onto Emily's thighs and you leaned forward a little. You started lifting your lower body, letting the cock slip out of you but not all the way before slamming down on it and letting out a loud moan.

You set a brutal pace, fucking yourself on the dildo fast and hard. Your thighs burned with exhaustion but you couldn't stop and didn't want to. Feeling the silicone rubbing against your walls and hitting that perfect spot inside of you, looking at Aaron and imagining it was him underneath you. "Fu-uck, Aaron, your cock feels so good. So big inside me"

His pace had become faster, trying to match your own. He was using your discarded panties to jerk off with, the wetness on the material helping. "Yeah? You look so beautiful stuffed with cock, baby." He took a moment to look you over, the way your tits bounced with your movement, the way your eyes were hazy with lust. "Does it feel good? Fucking yourself in front of me? Getting lost in pleasure in front of your boss?"

The shame sat low in your stomach, mixing with the pleasure and threatening to push you over. "Ugh, yes. Yes, it feels so good! I'm so close."

As the words and moans were spilling out of your mouth Emily's hand crept around your body and landed on your clit. "You gonna be a good little whore for us now and come on his cock?"

You whimpered at the contact, she pinched at you and rubbed tight circles making you go faster on the toy.

You didn't fall over the edge, you were violently thrown over it. Your whole body shook with the force of your orgasm, insides pulsing and trapping the dildo inside you as you still on in. In the distance, you could hear Aaron's groaning and a faint 'fuck' as he came into your panties.

Emily softly guided you off the toy and back on the bed to lie down, both of them were praising you, telling you how amazing you were. Aaron had disappeared into the bathroom to fetch a washcloth and Em was taking off the harness, laying it to the side for now before crawling into bed with you.

She was holding you in her arms, whispering sweet words to you. "You did so well, honey. Always so good. I love you so much."

Aaron came back and cleaned up the mess between your legs, being careful not to put too much pressure on your sensitive cunt. He took an extra moment just looking at you, committing your body to his memory.

You reached an arm out for him, motioning for him to lie down on your other side.

He gave a quick glance to Emily and she nodded to him before laying down and holding you too.

You knew this was probably never gonna happen again and that you'll never speak of it with him but you couldn't be happier right now, feeling utterly satisfied surrounded by your two favorite people.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut

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starstruckwillows · 1 year

Text

— s/o + stuffed animals ♡

requested by @juneberrie <3

includes: annabeth chase, frank zhang, hazel levesque, jason grace, leo valdez, percy jackson, piper mclean — s/o that sleeps with teddies, gn!reader — tw; octavian /j, brief sex joke

annabeth chase 🏢

annabeth had a teddy when she was younger, but pretty much left it behind and never thought about it again. it’s never bothered her that you go to sleep with them, it’s never bothered her if you’ve brought one on a quest, but she’s never really thought about it much. until she was waiting for you in your room and, out of sheer boredom, began tossing them between her hands and examining the stitching and design. she’s also found that if you’re away from her, the teddies are something that connects her to you. she’ll never tell you, but she may borrow one when you’re on quests or visiting home.

frank zhang 🐻

human teddy bear. that’s why his emoji is a bear and not one of the many other animals he shifts into. frank is a teddy in his own right, but he honestly finds it cute that you have them littering your bed. will absent mindedly tidy them/line them up if he’s alone in your room, probably in height order, or with the smallest in their own row. he’s so interested in everything about you and will ask their names, where you got them, when you got them, what they’re wearing and why, ect. when you’re in that semi-peaceful, post-quest delighted phase of having nothing to do, and more importantly nothing to worry about, you and frank may lay and give them back stories and lives. when he’s a praetor and his responsibilities are almost never ending, it’s a fun pass time that helps him relax.

hazel levesque 💎

honestly, she’s never seen someone with more than one or two rag dolls. like most things in your modern life, it’s a learning curve for her. what she does know is you like them, and that’s all that matters for her. she doesn’t mind them herself, and if you ever gave her one, she’d be such an adorable mess of hardly contained glee. tries to give arion one, but he pretty much just eats it. she was horrified. never again. on nico’s next birthday, she does give him a skull teddy, having discovered they make great gifts, and although he just smiles and rolls his eyes at people laughing, he loves it. it has a prized place next to will solace on his pillow.

jason grace ☁️

bless his soul, he was raised by wolves. he did not have access to any aspect of a regular childhood, nor did he ever resent that. but he did have a scrap of a thing he received from thalia as a baby, almost losing all of it’s stuffing over the years and a single button eye left. but he kept it the whole time, and it brings him a lot of nostalgic comfort. now, as for your teddies, he has no problem sharing your bed with them. they’re comfortable and cute. they aren’t the strict upbringing he experienced at camp jupiter, but he’s discovered many things he’s enjoyed outside of that part of his life. and he’ll make sure to keep you as far away from octavian as possible, and his bloody stuffed animal massacre. puts his glasses on them as placeholders.

leo valdez 🪛

doesn’t see the hype. kidding - kind of. the concept of stuffed animals don’t bother him. they’re cute, they’re fun to make interact with each other (+ put in weird poses because let’s be real if rick’s target audience wasn’t children there’d be twenty sex jokes per any chapter featuring leo), and he has nothing against them. but he does have an innate desire to make them “more interesting”. this includes a lot of lasers and fire and weaponry. “leo, i do not want to lay in bed with my head against a bunch of cogs and risk accidentally shaving my eyebrows off, or worse.” “... no fun.” he will buy/find you more and more, regardless, the pile everygrowing.

percy jackson 🐳

sally jackson got percy some kind of fish teddy the second he was born, partly as a joke, partly as a small vice for her mild disgruntlement at the god’s customary absentee parenting style. he was never particularly attached to it, but i think he’d take it to camp in the summer - he’s got no teasing bunkmates to worry about, tyson’s too much of a sweetheart, and it’s a connection to his mum more than his dad. he may gift it to you at some point. i can see him always checking on your teddies before leaving your room, just to make sure nobody’s been knocked to the ground. he knows you wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if they had. he thinks it’s pretty sweet, your collection, and will buy you one or two before it grows so big he insists you don’t need anymore.

piper mclean 🤎

as a kid, she got iphones and designer handbags, not teddy bears. she never really cared for them, maybe charming her way into stealing a couple, for the kleptomania. it doesn’t, at first, cross her mind when she sees them all on your bed. when she sees you with them, curled up after a hard quest or a long day, however, she finds herself thinking how genuinely nice it is to relax with fluffy things and not much to do. when you gift her a few, she doesn’t necessarily name them or form an emotional attachment, but she does think they’re nice, and will frequently curl with them if she’s tired.

🏷️ — none yet

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shubblelive · 7 months

Text

— HYPOTHETICAL CAT

summary : your first time staying with wilbur since the beginning of your long-distance relationship, and you're already dreading leaving him. luckily for you, you may not have to.

genre : fluff

warnings : slightly dialogue heavy?? not proofread unlike usual but i think we're good

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x cc!fem!reader

pronouns : none (you/yours) BUT wilbur referrs to reader as a girl

featuring : cc! wilbur soot

requested : Could you do a wilbur fic where him and the reader have a long distance relationship? And one day when she comes and visits him, he admits he cant go such long periods of time without seeing her, so he proposes that she moves in with him, the rest is up to you, thank you! xx

word count : 873

note : okay i wrote this all in one day which i never do but it was a struggle. but, i power through for you guys. i hope you enjoy this <33333

No one told you when you started out that your favourite thing about content creation would be the webcam quality. Of course, it was definitely something you could live without, but on nights when it was just you and Wilbur, a video call on your desktop as your sun rose and his set, the fact that you could see him in picture perfect vision was occasionally the only thing holding you together.

But then suddenly, he was right in front of you.

You and Wilbur had been together for nearly three years, meeting at a creator event ages ago. You’d seen him at a panel and he’d waited in line to meet you just to give you his phone number, asking you to call him, and two weeks later he was calling you darling.

You’d known at that first meeting that you lived awfully far from each other, but that hadn’t been thought of as a particularly big issue until the two of you started dating, and then it was comparable to torture. You’d have semi-regular meetings where he’d fly to your place and stay with you for a couple of days. This time, though, this was different.

“You have been holding out on me,” your voice was heavy with sleep, your head in Wilbur’s lap as the two of you watched something, some nature documentary that was playing so softly it was almost designed to put you to sleep. “Your couch is so much more comfortable than mine is.”

Wilbur looked down at you fondly. “My bad,” he laughed steadily, careful not to be too loud. “I guess I thought that if you got to experience the wonders of my sofa you’d only wanna come here, I wouldn’t get to come see you as much.”

“I knew you and Mr Gardener had some weird thing going on,” you said, accusatory with a smile draped across your face.

“He makes you bread!” Wilbur defended. “How are you not obsessed with him?”

You cracked one of your eyes open sleepily, hand coming up to reach for his. He took it eagerly, drinking in your figure as you lay on his couch. “I’m pretty sure he’s not the one doing it.”

Wilbur threw his head back to rest against the couch, letting out a puff of air. “Okay, maybe Emily is the one doing the actual baking, but you can’t tell me that Mr Gardener doesn’t add to the experience.”

“I’m sure he does.” You hummed.

“You can not seriously tell me that baking a loaf of bread is not made infinitely better by the presence of a cat.”

You paused. “Okay, okay. It would be.”

Wilbur let out a pleased noise, moving down to run his hands up and down the exposed skin by your collarbone. “We should get a cat,”

His voice was barely loud enough for you to hear it, your eyes closed and his voice heavy with exhaustion. The two of you had been out all day on the first day of your visit, finally taking a moment to rest.

“Should we?” You mused. “Who gets custody?”

Wilbur made a choking sound like the answer was obvious. “Well- I would, right?”

You forced yourself up, yawning as you brought your knees to your chest. “Why am I jealous of our hypothetical cat right now?”

Wilbur chuckled and reached for you, sitting forward on his knees, gently tugging at your calves until he was resting on your chest. “You don’t have to be,” he pointed out. “I’ve got a very big bed. And an entire section of wardrobe that I’m not using, and-”

“Wilbur,” you chided. “You know it’s not as easy as me simply never going home. Believe me, if I could spend the rest of my life curled into this couch, I would but-”

Wilbur sighed dramatically, pulling himself off you and standing up. “There you go, dream crusher,” he let out an exaggerated groan, taking you by the hand and pulling you up. His cheek was pressed against the side of your face, hands interlocked. “Crushing my dreams all crush-ier and dreamy.”

You let out a giggle as he poked your side. “You think I’m dreamy?”

“So dreamy,” he nodded. “Dream girl material right here, loves me, loves our future cat-”

“Loves your sofa,” you added dreamily.

“And before I let you two get a room, please just consider moving in with me?” He begged gently. “Come on, wouldn’t it be so nice? Just you and me, I’d even let you name the cat. Please?”

“I’m not doing it for you.” You conceded. “I’m doing it for Rhubarb and all of the future kisses I am going to get from him on my new couch.”

He kissed you on the forehead. “Okay, I’ll leave you guys alone, I see where I’m not wanted.” He pressed another one on the side of your mouth.

“No,” you groaned, trying to drag him back on the couch. “I don’t have our cat yet, I need someone to shower me with affection.”

He huffed as he sat back on the couch, letting you collapse on top of him, revelling in the comfortable weight of you pressed against him. “Fine, fine. If I must.”

#wilbur #wishing i could write my name on it #wilbuh #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot

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saetoru · 2 years

Text

#𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘, 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐘!

「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ kaeya and diluc don't have much in common, even if they're brothers

☰ pairing ⋮ diluc ragnvindr x reader x kaeya alberich

☰ length ⋮ 2.1k words (it was meant to be longer but i was struggling ok)

☰ contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, cheater! reader (rip), you cheat on diluc with kaeya </3, neglectful bf! diluc, slightly lovesick! kaeya, business/modern au, NOT canon-compliant/accurate, they are implied to be biological brothers (ik kaeya was adopted but go w it), strained familial relationships, semi public sex, office sex, slight teasing, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (princess + baby), diluc walks in </3

☰ notes ⋮ cat got me to officially really play genshin finally. now i am sick over kaeya and diluc. especially diluc SOBS but i started writing this when i was more into kaeya so this is a big rip for diluc my baby </3

“you know, i’d never leave you alone in an outfit as cute as this if i were diluc,” kaeya grins, sliding his hand up your skirt, eyes glinting in amusement as he feels the wet patch on your underwear. he hums, pressing hot kisses along your neck, making you whimper at the attention.

attention. it’s funny, you think—just how much a little attention can change so quickly.

kaeya is nothing if not persistent, he has his eyes set on you one way or another—and truth be told, it’s probably the one thing he has in common with his brother. from the way they walk and talk, to the way one has crimson locks while the other sports blue, you think if you ask anyone, they’d say kaeya and diluc are the last two men anyone would expect to be brothers. they’re just too opposite, couldn’t be any more different if they tried…and something tells you they never have to try.

you’ve heard less than kind things about the blue-haired nuisance (as diluc likes to say) from your boyfriend—diluc isn’t tightly knit with his brother, and he doesn’t exactly try to hide it. he comes into your office on more than one occasion with a scowl on his face and heavy breaths heaving from his chest as he tries to calm himself down, mouth running faster than you can comprehend the words as he vents about his sibling with rather…colorful words.

but still, kaeya doesn’t seem that bad in your eyes, even despite the image your boyfriend paints of his brother. you think diluc exaggerates things sometimes. sure, kaeya is a little immature and has a track record of being a tad bit unprofessional at times, and it may be true that he has a natural gift for popping blood vessels and making your head ache with his nonsense—but kaeya is also kind under the facade.

at least, that’s what you’ve come to learn.

he brings you coffee fresh from the pot—he brews a new batch himself because he knows the longer it sits, the worse it tastes. he replaces your pens when you’ve used them through—and he even gets the fancy brand you like, even if a little costly. sometimes, you almost feel bad listening to your boyfriend vent about a guy who treats you so well.

but then again, maybe that’s why you like kaeya in the first place—he treats you so well.

when was the last time diluc came into your office seeking you out for you? when was the last time you were something other than a person to vent to? when was the last time he noticed you because he craved you?

you can’t answer the question honestly. and then there’s the fact that he’s stiff outside the office too. he’s kind, sure. he’s respectful and treats you as an equal, he swipes his credit card and gives you what you want on more than one occasion—he does it without hesitation, too. he doesn’t look at the numbers when it comes to you, which should make your heart soar…right?

but he doesn’t answer your texts on time, and he’s too busy for dates to be a regular occurrence, and he’s just so invested in inheriting the family business. it’s my job as the next in line, he always tells you with a kiss on your forehead when you’re disappointed that he’s got no time for you, someone has to pick up the slack kaeya doesn’t.

and then you’re left to wonder…maybe all the things you thought attracted you to diluc are actually every reason to choose kaeya instead.

kaeya skips meetings to hang out in your office (though he’s often a distraction) and he spams your phone with random messages (though it’s a bit obnoxious) and he never puts other things before you (though you’re sure it’s more because he simply doesn’t care for a lot of things in general.)

so now you’re here, pressed against the desk of your own boyfriend’s office, underwear soaked and pussy dripping as his brother teases your clit with the pad of his thumb.

“you’re dripping,” kaeya purs, chuckling as you whine from the barely-there friction of his finger, “and it’s all for me. ‘sn’t that something?”

“k-kaeya…diluc ’ll be here any secon—”

“you really want me to stop?” he feigns shock, fingers retreating from where you need him most in an instant.

no, you realize, you’re wrong—kaeya has a lot more in common with his brother than anyone realizes. the way they both have you ready to sob for it while barely doing anything at all is proof enough that they’re siblings.

“no!” you gasp, pushing your hips back and chasing his hand, trying to rekindle the friction—even as minimal as it is. he snickers behind you, chest pressed against your back as he kisses your neck. his hand smooths over your ass, squeezing firmly before you feel something hard poke you from behind. “please,” you whimper, “need it—need you.”

he likes the sound of your voice so desperate—it makes him just a little satisfied that he finally has something his brother doesn’t. that he has something that he’s taken, not just given second hand.

diluc doesn’t deserve you. kaeya comes to this conclusion the first time he notices your sad eyes when his brother brushes you off to stay extra after work. he would never do that, he decides—he would skip meeting after meeting if you so wished that of him. he could make your eyes light up, he thinks, or at the very least—tear up from pleasure instead of pain.

“need me where, hmm?” he teases. his cock is hard—aching and swollen in the tight confinement of his pants, begging to be released so he can sink into the glistening folds of your cunt. but he’s waited a long time for this—so he decides to take his time with you, at least for a bit. what’s a little extra after waiting so much already?

“i-in me,” you plead, “please, need you to fuck me. need to cum,” your lips are almost pouting, lashes almost wet from the tears threatening to cling to them.

gone is the shame. gone is the remorse that you’re cheating on your boyfriend with his brother in his own office. gone is any semblance of reason and self-control as soon as kaeya slips up your skirt and tugs the flimsy fabric of your underwear aside—he decides he doesn’t have the patience to fully take it off. somewhere in the process, he’s seemed to have freed his cock, the wet, fat tip pressing against your clit before dragging up and down along your entrance as he gathers your slick and smears it along his length.

you whimper and he grunts, the slight shoot of pleasure running up your spine, enough to make you choke back on a needy whine. he grabs your hips tightly, and your hands grip the edge of the desk to brace yourself as he slowly pushes past your dripping folds, inching into you slowly with a throaty groan. good, you feel so good, and he’s not even fully in you yet.

how can diluc keep his hands off of you for longer than five minutes, let alone ignore you for more than half the day? kaeya can’t understand it. he’s parched, thirsty for it, thirsty for you—like a man desperate for water as the summer sun glares down on him with scorching heat, bubbling up his throat with carnal desire.

he thrusts his hips with a swift motion, too impatient to keep any self-control left. you mewl, back arching up to push down on his cock, feeling him curve deeper into you. the thick veins running along his length drag along your walls, making your eyes blur from the sensitivity.

“that’s it, princess,” he groans, “shit, such a tight fuckin’ pussy. ‘s not fair he gets all this to himself,” he spits, slamming his hips into you harshly, mercilessly, unforgiving as he rightfully claims what should be his.

you should be his—right from the start you were meant to be his.

“so deep,” you gasp, and he lets out a strained chuckle, breath fanning against your skin and making you shiver. “feels…feels so good,” you pant.

“yeah? you feel that?” he angles his hips to hit the blunt head of his cock against your sweet spot, perfect and precise‚ like he knows you without even trying. “feel me? ‘s like i was made for you, huh? take me so well, princess, squeezin’ me in—’m barely able to move,” he groans. “fuck—fuck, you’re so good.”

“kaeya, please,” you sob, “faster.”

your voice cracks as it says his name. it makes the thin thread tying him to sanity snap almost immediately.

and that’s all it takes for his hips to piston his thick girth in and out of your dripping cunt, animalistic in his pace. the mess of your slick and his pre cum coat your thighs and his crotch as he slaps his balls against your ass, and you can hear the smacking of skin against skin—the wet, squelching sound of his cock bullying into your pussy and filling up the room with the sound of your betrayal.

except it doesn’t feel like a betrayal—it feels like you’re choosing yourself for once, like you’re putting yourself first over a man who doesn’t think about you twice. it feels so right—so how can it be wrong?

kaeya’s voice is raspy against your ear, pretty and deep yet holding just a hint of whininess with the labored pants that spill from his throat. his hands are bruisingly tight against your hips, you’re sure they’ll leave marks from his nails digging into the flesh. his cock slips in and out of you harshly, curving into you so deep, you swear you can feel him in your throat.

and then you wonder, what would it be like to have him down your throat? how would he taste on your tongue? how would he sound with your head between his thighs?

the image itself is enough to rip a high-pitched mewl from you, cunt sensitive and throbbing, aching to relieve the pressure slowly building up in a steady ache. you’re close, so close—you can taste your release just seconds away as you reach the precipice of your high.

“‘m close, so close—g-gonna cum,” you moan, “for you—gonna cum for you,” you say so sweetly, like nectar flows from your lips. kaeya has almost half a mind to turn you around so he can suckle your lips like fruit off the tree—forbidden, yet still the height of his desires.

“cum for me, princess,” he groans, hand coming up so his thumb can roll over your clit in harsh circles, “wanna feel you—can you cum for me? let go, baby.”

and that’s all it takes for you to let out an ear-shattering squeal—surely the whole floor has heard you by now if they haven’t already. you can't bring yourself to care, and kaeya can’t bring himself to shove down the satisfaction. your walls spasm around him, making him whine as his own orgasm rips through him in tidal waves.

you can feel his cock twitch with every thick rope of cum he paints your walls with, fucking his load deep into your womb like you’re his to mark. he’s sensitive—lets out a whimper into your neck as he cums, makes your skin rise with goosebumps at the sweet sounds he makes in the height of his pleasure. he’s perfect, you think—and you’re hit with the realization as he breaks for you that you want him.

as wrong as it is, you want kaeya just as bad as he wants you.

“fuck, baby,” he groans as he finishes, “you’re something else, y’know that?”

you let out a tired giggle, feeling his body lightly slump over yours as he kisses the back of your neck.

“yeah i been told here and there,” you tease. “but you can tell me agai—”

the door opens and cuts you off, and before you can even fully comprehend what’s happened, two red and horrified eyes are blinking at you in shock before landing on a pair of smug eyes behind you.

“oh, hey,” kaeya says with a smooth voice, lips curling into a smirk as he eyes diluc casually, “that’s a first. your meetings usually never end early.”

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