#so it was a bit of an exercise :D

[qvert]

A Last Stand

So I am aware that target audience for this is basically only @lunamonroeao3 but I have a need to hurt her as much as she hurt me so… this is that and… you’re all my witness I guess :D

[majorproblems77]

Four. By Hylia do Four. Honestly I don't have many ideas for an actual prompt but since I saw that you love Sky, maybe Four looking up to Sky (since he's the hero right after him) and Sky feeling guilty for the curse and the like. Or could be them bonding over it if you want it to be fluffy lol

(this was fun, and good practice for me, I dont write four very often! But this was fun!)

Link It was amazing to hear from you, It calms my soul to know that you are in good company on your quest this time. As for what you've told me, It surprised me to learn that you are travelling with the Skyloftian hero of legend himself. I did a little digging for you and from what Zelda tells me The skyloftian hero was a kind-hearted man who put others before himself in every way.

I understand your concerns, but Sky seems the type to air your concerns too. He doesn't seem the type to not be observant and if you've been avoiding the conversation for long enough he's probably taken note by now. He might even try to speak to you himself. Remember link you're a hero too, and im sure he knows that and trusts you. But your inner thoughts seem to be fighting again. Maybe you should ask your brothers in mind to talk it out for you. Maybe ask him if you can hold that sword you keep telling me about. I've still not found out how exactly he forged that thing with no equipment to speak off but my search continues.

Just keep that in mind. Write soon Grandpa

"Hey four! You got a letter from home again?" Wind bounded over to the smithy as he put the letter back in his bag. Musing over its contents.

"I did, i asked my grandpa for some advice." He said softly, smiling at his bag before facing the sailor. "How can I help you, sailor?"

"Sky's been asking for you. Not sure why, he's doing his 'just do it but nicely' voice again." The sailor sat beside him. "Probably to spar with him. I know pretty much everyone else has by this point."

"I'll go and see him."

Grandpa was right...

"Thanks, smithy!" The sailor shouted as he ran off towards the captain.

He walked through the camp, smiling to the others as he looked to Time expectantly. the man shrugged his shoulders and pointed to a gap in the trees to the other clearing they'd made into another part of camp.

"Sky?"

"Hey, four!" The skyloftian smiled, and picked up a training sword.

"Wind said you were looking for me?" He questioned, crossing his arms as he looked to the skyloftian.

"Yes..." The skyloftian paused, looking behind the smith before smiling again.

'That was weird...'

"Fancy a spar!" He waved the sword in his hand, before throwing it towards the smith. It landed on the ground with a clatter.

"Sure." He looked to the sword on the ground as Sky picked up his own weapon. "Any particular reason Sky?"

"No." He rolled the sword through his hand. "you're the only one I've not had the chance to spar with yet."

A chance to spar with Sky is an opportunity we shouldn't pass up!

"That sounds like fun."

You know he's only doing this to test how good you are. It's the logical choice unless he needs to speak to us.

"Great!" The skyloftian readed his training sword holding it across his body in a defensive stance. "Okay. So I'll maintain a defence, if you try to break through it we can see..."

Why's he doing this in the first place? Does he not think we can do anything?

Sky's seen us fight plenty of times. It dosent make any sense.

Unless he wants us to get in close.

He wants to talk to us. But doesn't know how to approach

We aren't exactly the easiest person to approach.

"Four?" The skyloftains question broke through his inner turmoil. As he blinked back to reality.

"Oh yes!" Focus link... "Ready when you are."

The skyloftian raised his sword, sitting in a defensive stance again.

This is highly irregular.

You think he's still on that conversation we had the other night?

The timeline talk?

Where we very much looked upset that we were second on the list.

Sky's direct successor...

You think we make him proud?

"Four?" Nothing. "Smithy?"

"Link!"

"Im here. Im here." Stupid overthinking. "I'm good."

"If you're not up for it I can ask Wars to spar instead." The skyloftian placed his sword down. "Everything okay?" He approached and sat on the ground. Patting the grass beside him in an invitation to sit down.

"I'm fine Sky." Now isn't the time to make him think you are anything less. He sat beside the skyloftian loth of them looking to the sky above them.

"Okay well now your lying to me." Sky didn't look at him, his eyes tracing a cloud that swam laizly across the sky.

"Im not."

"What is it really?"

"I..."

"I noticed you've been avoiding speaking to me directly. Where you can speak to the rancher easily. Or even the captain, or Hyrule." He sat up, pulling his knees to his chest.

HE KNOWS?

"Did I do something?" The skyloftian asked, his eyes searching for any sense of an answer for the smith.

Sky feel's bad? Why does Sky feel bad?

"You've not done anything directly."

"Then me being here then." The Skyloftian thought back. "You've only been avoiding me since..." Realisation shined in his eyes as he visibly deflated. "Oh..."

That was not the reaction i was expecting

Wait, sky looks sad. Sky looks so sad!

His eyes! Did you see that?

"The only explanation is that now you know where we fall in the timeline. You wish it wasn't me before you."

Where did he get that idea from?

"What? Sky?"

"Or you're ashamed."

"Sky... Sk im not ashamed of you, I. Oh god."

I wish we'd split. I'll give him the talk he needs.

You are the last person I would send into this

And what's that meant to mean?!

"Im sorry. Im sorry I failed to stop the darkness and that you had to live the life you have." The skyloftian looked away, gripping the corners of his sailcloth as he took a steadying breath.

What?

Sky dont say that!

"Sky. My life as a hero has been eventful yeah. But I wouldn't change it for the world. I dont think any of us would."

"But you've gone through so much pain, lost loved ones. Lost friends." He gripped his hand. Covering the back of his right hand with his left.

"If he was here my friend would slap you."

I miss him.

"I've been avoiding you... yeah. But not because of that."

"Then why?"

Come on! We can do this!

Sky is the kindest of us, if anyone gets it it's him

He took a breath before looking the skyloftain square in the face. "Because. I look up to you. I have my whole life."

"What?" The skyloftian sounded genuinely shocked to hear this. His face swam with a mix of emotions.

"The hero of Sun, or the hero of skyloftian legend. is a story that people in my time read to their young before they go to bed." He fiddled through his bag. "I dont have a copy on me now, but Ill ask my grandpa to send me a copy with his next letter."

"It is?" Sky asked. "I'm a story?"

"Yes. It tells of a man from the clouds clad in green chosen by the gods to save the world. He broke a path through the sky itself to defeat a rising evil so dark it would shroud the world in darkness forever." He sighed. "When you told us about your journey, I discovered that I was the only one to know of your legends like that..."

"You figured your place."

"I did."

"So, you're a successor that can't have come much after me. A few generations at most."

"I think so."

They sat in silence for a moment before Sky shifted again, placing his hands behind him as he looked skyward again. "When you get that book from your grandpa, I'd like to read it if that's okay. I'd like to see how history remembered me."

"If we make it to my time you can ask Zelda, I know she's done a lot of research into the hero of old."

Sky gave a laugh as he stood, offering a hand to the smith. "Come on, we should get back."

"Sure thing." He smiled, taking the offered hand and standing. "We should 'spar' more. Helps quiet the thoughts."

"I can agree with you there."

[smile-files]

one of my favorite kinds of doodle: take the letters that spell out the name of a thing and use them to create the shape of that thing!!! (if you can't read any of these, they will be written out below <3)

going top down, left to right:

bone; butterfly; bee; joy; moth

kitty cat; snail; love; spongebob squarepants

eye; puppy dog; candy; wally darling; dolphin

hand; the element of kindness; lollypop; pencil

[boatboys]

How does doing the books together work? I'm guessing or it looks like maybe roachpatrol writes them and splicketylit does most of the drawing and then rollerskatinglizard does the sales and posts and stuff? I want to write books some day and it seems like working with friends would make it easier, but how did you get some friends interested to help?? Did you think of a book and then go hey actually OOMF could help with that? Or was it something else? Thanks in advance!

Hm! I'll take this one point at a time I think, because there's a lot here.

RE: our roles, I think you're misapprehending the concept of "cowriters"! Which one of us has the energy and inspiration at any given time varies, but all three of us plot/brainstorm, write, and edit on all the books! We have strong points we tend to lean into--Skates is really great at the minutiae of publishing sites and advertising posts and compiling our rambling discussions into roadmaps, Roach comes up with world embroidery/texture/setbuilding details like it's his job, and on a good day I can turn outline into prose and check off edits at a pretty breakneck pace--but these books are our shared babies, and they wouldn't be the same books if any one of us hadn't been intimately involved in every step!

RE: establishing a cowriter situation, I can only speak for how we ended up cowriting; we were fandom friends first, playing with each other's OCs and ideas. Eventually someone broached the topic of "hey do you want to write an actual freestanding story about some of these goobers we've been making up?" and ever since we've been in a three-way discord chat, brainstorming our way forward as a group. :D

Addendum: Just to temper your expectations, I don't know that I would say that cowriting is "easier" than writing by yourself! It's easier in some ways--having other people to bounce ideas off of, being able to lean on your cowriters' strengths, etc--but it requires a LOT of trust both in your friendship and in your cowriters' skills, and even with both of those things there will still be friction! Multiple people all trying to create the perfect image of the pie-in-the-sky novel they're imagining are going to conflict sometimes, and resolving those moments can be hard on both the level of friendship AND of collaborating artists.

Roach compared it to gem fusion when I posted this in the group chat to discuss our thoughts, and I do have to corroborate that. Last time I started working on the next novel near one of my cowriters in person, we did glow and mesh into a huge sexy hottie with four arms. So you may want to be prepared for that, also. UoU

[sysig]

Some scribbles :) (Patreon)

[outoftheirdifferences]

5. what would your muses be the deities of?

20 QUESTIONS FOR MULTI-MUSE BLOGS!

First off, I think Webby would like to remind everyone that she canonically spent like five minutes as the "goddess of sunny friendship get-along time", so her answer is at least an easy one!

Besides her... hm. Assuming a premise similar to that episode, where the characters get to choose what their areas would be for a test...

Cera, I think, would want to be a goddess of bravery.

Da Vinci Dalmatian, naturally, a goddess of artists.

Angel would, if the choice was up to her, want to be seen as the goddess of family; but given her terrible luck on that count, she might well end up being a goddess of self-reliance or something instead, which she would roll with but not be particularly happy about.

Annette, Collette and Danielle would probably remain a trio together in that context, perhaps of a bit more of a classic style; Collette perhaps being a goddess of beauty, Annette a goddess of intelligence, and Dani... I'm not sure, but something that complements the other two while at the same time being a little off-beat from them, mirroring their dynamic in canon.

Honestly I think if Gosalyn was anything, it would probably be the goddess of chaos...!

Connie, I feel, would follow the classical mythology 'Athena' route, taking roles as a goddess of both wisdom and battle.

Can't think of anything for anyone else so I guess I'll leave the answer there for now...!

[bladeofthestars]

.

[catcrumb]

after 5 years of running this blog, i've made the decision to open up a patreon!

my life circumstances are changing, and patreon will greatly help me make ends meet and pay rent. nothing about this blog will be changing - i'll still be posting a cat doodle every day, same as i always have.

i have a $3/month tier and a $6/month tier - both work as tip jars, with the latter being if you feel especially generous and can afford it.

right now i have transparent and/or higher-resolution PNGs of certain catcrumbs that i've used for redbubble up for members, if anyone wants to make emojis or such. i'll also be taking requests for drawings to be transparentized and/or put on redbubble. in the future i may start offering additional rewards - bonus art, requests, maybe physical stuff - but my life needs to settle down a bit before i do anything like that.

your money is of course yours to do with as you see fit (and there are many many good causes out there that i urge you to donate to), but i hope that if my little drawings have given you joy over the years and you have the room in your budget, you'll consider supporting me!

i also have a kofi and redbubble if you'd rather support me that way!

no matter what - i genuinely appreciate all the kindness i have been given. i try very hard to keep catcrumb a self-driven art exercise - just one cat a day, doesnt have to be perfect or even good, just has to be a cat - but i couldn't have kept up the hobby without so many people's joy. it's been a genuinely incredible experience for my silly little scribbles to have positively touched people's lives - in-jokes between friends and partners, a gentle reminder, tattoos and baby clothes, something to look forward to... it's really been a flood of human kindness.

thank you all so much for all the joy - here's to more! :~D

[everrinsly]

life with rin vibes.

the utter objectification of rin's biceps.

biceps with rin. fluff. slight nsfw. very suggestive. fem!reader. | not proofread.

more reads!

~~~~~

Your first mistake was attempting to keep Rin company while he exercised—

"You wanna watch me, baby?"

He kissed your forehead softly before moving around the basement, collecting the scattered dumbbells from his sets the day before.

"Y-Yeah, I-I can keep you company," you stuttered, cheeks warm. Because even though you've been together for two years, he never failed to make your heart flutter.

He hummed. "You might get bored. You wanna watch something?" he asked, glancing back at the TV mounted on the wall.

"Mm... it's okay, Rin, I'll be fine—"

(Such lies).

—so now, you were here. On the floor, your back against the foot of the couch.

You should’ve looked away.

You really, really should’ve.

But the sight of Rin working out made you crumble—sweat glistening down his neck, sleeves shoved up over his shoulders, and those arms (let me repeat, those arms) were on full display as he curled the dumbbells like they were nothing.

Thick, veined, flexing with every movement.

You eyed him through your lashes, pretending to scroll through your phone, cheeks red, thighs pressed together like that might help the intrusive thoughts crawling through your mind.

(It didn't).

You bit your lip. The taste of your strawberry chapstick graced your tongue.

Rin didn’t speak. He rarely did during workouts. But you knew he was aware of you. The smug, silent... dangerous... kind of aware, like he could feel you watching him, soaking in every contraction of his biceps like you were starving.

And god—you tried not to imagine what it would feel like to sit on them. To grind on them. To ride—

(You failed. Miserably).

Your face burned hotter, red as a beet.

“Something wrong, baby?” he asked, finally. Casual, like he didn’t already know exactly what kind of nasty filth you were thinking.

You looked up quickly, snapped out of your trance but the feeling of heat in your core still lingering. “N-No.”

His eyebrow lifted, teal eyes scanning from your eyes to your bitten lips. “You sure?”

You nodded. "Mmhmm."

He didn't believe you.

He set the dumbbell down with a soft thud, stretching one arm behind his head—his bicep flexed, bulging, perfect. And fuck, you looked again. You couldn’t not (like it'd be rude to not stare).

Rin tilted his head.

“You’ve been staring at my arms for ten minutes,” he said, voice low and deep. “You wanna say something, pretty?”

You shook your head furiously, tucking your face behind your phone again.

He smirked.

“I’ll say it for you then, yeah?”

You froze. Well... shit.

“I know you think about it,” Rin said, voice dropping to that teasing hush that made your stomach twist. “Don’t pretend you haven’t imagined what it’d be like. Sitting on them. Grinding down. Making a mess while I flex for you.”

Your phone slipped out of your hands.

God—he loved watching your cute, flushed face scrunch up, so he continued.

"You're wet. Aren't you, baby." It wasn't posed as a question. It didn't need to be. Because he knew and you knew. It was a fact.

“I—!” you gasped, utterly mortified. “I d-didn’t—I mean, I—!”

He laughed softly, rising to his feet and stepping towards you. He towered over you now. You couldn’t even look at him.

Rin crouched down, tilting your chin up with one finger, his other arm flexing just barely. Taunting. Teasing.

"You think they're the perfect size too, huh? Perfect for riding. Because my thighs are just too big, right? Too big for your tiny pussy to get off on? So you wanna rock on my biceps instead, isn't that right, pretty baby?"

Holy shit.

You short-circuited, brain stopping completely, all mushy and melting.

He leaned in closer, nose brushing yours, glazed eyes trailing down to your lips.

“Sweet little thing,” he murmured. “So shy, but you’ve got the dirtiest imagination.”

Your face was on fire.

“Maybe...” he whispered, leaning in just enough to brush his lips on yours.

You held your breath.

“I’ll let you test that theory after I finish my sets. So... be a good girl and keep watching me."

[wisteria-blooms]

P A R A D I S E // P O T I O N S!

PAIRING: Bill Weasley & You  WARNINGS: smut!! so much smut!!, oral (giving, receiving), piv, sex pollen trope, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, creampies, all the makings of a bad porn plot **MINORS DNI** SUMMARY: As per Percy’s recommendation to his mother, you’re tasked to house-sit the Burrow while the family is away for the Quidditch World Cup. You’re Percy's closest friend and much like him, you are more than wary of his mischievous twin brothers, Fred and George. But what if their machinations lead you to something you’ve always dreamt of coming true? (8.0k words)

A/N: Been going through a bit of writer’s block recently, so hopefully a load of debauchery (as big as Bill's) breaks down that wall. I’ve been mad at how my sentences are coming out—they sound so redundant and boring. Also, I’m not great at editing my smut scenes because I get embarrassed reading them, so enjoy at your own risk. ;)

PARADISE POTIONS!

There was an undeniable feeling of late summer that nestled in the morning air, a pleasant marriage of warmth and wind. As you trekked up a tall, grassy hill, you breathed it all in. You were in disbelief that August had snuck up on you so suddenly. That meant only two weeks left of freedom before you were confined to a cubicle in the Ministry of Magic, wasting your life away.

‘It won’t be so bad’, you reminded yourself. After all, Percy Weasley would be there alongside you in the same department. He was your most supportive and reliable friend, contrary to popular opinion. And it’d been him that pitched the idea that you house sit the Burrow while he and his family were away at the Quidditch World Cup. Apparently, he’d told Molly that you were mature, responsible, and ‘very much like him.’ You had to tease him about the compliment he threw in about himself. 

Molly would provide you room and board for the next week. Your tasks mainly included upkeep of the garden, feeding the animals, and ensuring the home didn’t seem completely empty as the whole family vacationed. Molly simply hated to keep an empty house. 

“Good morning, Perce!” you greeted with a wave when you reached the tip of the hill.

He waved back from the main entrance. Then, he motioned for your luggage. 

“How was your journey?”

“Uneventful,” you affirmed. “Though the walk up was great exercise. I feel very much awake now.”

“It’s quite the trek,” he agreed.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the orientation at the Ministry we had last week,” you gushed. “I’m so excited to start work.”

“Me too,” Percy agreed with a nod. 

“Mum would like to have you in for a spot of breakfast,” Percy said.

“I’d be delighted.” You heard excellent things about Molly Weasley’s breakfasts. 

Percy held the door open for you. The windchimes sounded from above you, signaling your entrance. You brushed past a fluttery overhead curtain. When the material unveiled itself, you came face to face with a long dining table. There were only six occupants: Ginny, Ron, the infamous Harry Potter, Hermione, Charlie, and Bill. You gave a small wave to the younger kids. They nodded wordlessly. You reckoned that in their eyes, any friend of Percy’s must be some masochist deviant. 

To the side, Arthur was chatting with who you supposed was Amos Diggory, combing through their plans. 

“Good morning, (Y/N) dear,” Molly greeted. You were glad she thought of you just as prim and proper and organized as her third-eldest son. 

You took a seat with Percy. He sat where his newspaper and coffee mug laid, right in front of Charlie. With a nervous smile, you sat to his right and…

Your eyes immediately landed on Bill. He was Percy’s eldest brother, and by far the most handsome. You were embarrassed to admit that you’d always fancied him. Not in the soul-crushing-adult-love kind of way, but in a silly schoolgirl way. He was so tall, so subtly muscly from sports. And he was a little more fun than Percy, though you’d never tell him that. 

But given that you were so young, there was no viable chance of anything happening. So, you chose to admire him from afar in the two years you overlapped schooling. You were now eighteen like Percy, but you maintained the fact Bill still saw you as a child, nothing else. It was an infatuation that would hurt no one, so you just let it be. 

“Good morning, (Y/N).”

You suppressed a smile as he acknowledged you. 

“Good morning, Bill.”

“Good morning, (Y/N),” sang Charlie. 

You smiled. “Hi, Charlie.” Charlie was quite the handful. You preferred Bill’s calmness than Charlie’s calamity. 

“I see it’s you who was tasked with watching our house,” Bill said. “I couldn’t have chosen better myself.”

“Thank you, Bill.” That compliment was going into your pocket for a rainy day. 

Bill was still ever so handsome, appearances aging like fine wine, with his soft ginger locks that framed his sharp cheekbones. His blue eyes glinted in the morning sun. You peeked at his chiselled jaw and his—dare you say—kissable lips. His t-shirt barely hid the muscles in his arms. He might’ve been tall and predisposed to being lankier compared to Charlie, but you knew he had his own ways to keep fit. 

You were so busy being entranced by Bill that you’d lost track of time and space. All you knew was that it was the best morning ever, sitting in front of him, surrounded by faint windchimes and the chirping birds outside to the window. Breakfast hadn’t even been served and you were already salivating thinking about Bill doing push-ups under the hot Egyptian sun, and that wasn’t even that deep in the gutter where most of your thoughts laid, in fact—

Suddenly, a large explosion reverberated through the house and shook the table. It jolted you and Percy. You yelped and ducked. When you regained your sense of place, you looked up. No one else besides you and Percy were fazed. 

“What was that?” you asked Percy, trying to settle your heart. 

“Fred! George!” Molly cried, walking over to the stairs with her spatula still in hand. “What have I told you about your experiments?”

“Sorry, mum,” George said, running down the stairs, a smidge of ash on his face. “That’s it for today, I promise.”

“I don’t want to hear this again, ever!” Molly shrieked. Then, she calmed down when she realised she was in front of guests. “Well, if that’s it, then help out a little bit, won’t you? We have to get going in less than an hour.”

“Sure thing,” George said with a smile. He ran over to the table and to the coffee pot. He gave it a jiggle, letting the remaining liquid slosh around. “Anyone need a top up of their coffee?”

“Mum made that pot, you can trust it,” Percy advised.

“Thank you,” you whispered back, and then looked up at George, “I wouldn’t mind a cup.”

George sauntered over and poured you a cup. “Coffee, Bill?” he asked. 

“That sounds good,” Bill responded.

“You’ll have to wait another ten minutes then,” George said with a frown. He tapped the empty glass container. “I’ve just run out. If only (Y/N) didn’t drink for two.”

“Quit it,” Percy warned his brother with a low tone. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. You were about to offer Bill your cup when Percy held out a hand to stop you. 

“Keep it,” Percy countered as she shoved the white mug back to your side. “I wouldn’t trust anything they put out. I’m glad it’s you that took the last of what mum made.”

You kept your voice quiet and giggled. “I hope Bill has an iron stomach, then.”

Percy nodded. 

While Percy could be harsh on his siblings, you were grateful for his looking out for you. To be fair, you were also skittish around Fred and George. They weren’t as easy to read as other people. A friendly smile often meant something sinister. 

“Would anyone like some liqueur in your morning beverage?” Fred asked, skipping three steps as he ran down the stairs. He reached underneath his coat as if selling contraband. “I have whatever tickles your fancy. In fact, Georgie and I have been working on something we reckon will be extremely profitable.”

Molly shot him a glare. You shook your head politely. 

“Don’t feel like you have to respond to his foolishness,” advised Percy. “He doesn’t deserve your time of day.”

“Loosen up, (Y/N),” Fred commanded. “If you hang around Percy all day and refuse any fun, you’ll both die virgins.”

You went beet red immediately. It was a shade that rivalled Percy’s in speed and depth. You prayed that Bill wasn’t paying attention to you. 

“That is ENOUGH!” bellowed Molly who whipped around so quickly that she nearly decapitated George with her wooden spoon. She’d reached her boiling point. “I won’t have you ruining our morning with your distasteful conversations, especially with all our guests presents.” She charged over to Fred and handed him a stack of plates. “Go on, make yourself useful and set the table.”

“(Y/N), darling,” Molly said, her sudden change in tone a little frightening. “I’ve cleared out Bill’s old room for you. Since he’s heading back to Egypt right after the World Cup, he’ll share Charlie’s room for the time for the last night. There are fresh sheets and towels and a change of clothes if you need. You are welcome to use the bath right next to the room.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.” Fred’s comment about your virginity went through one of Molly’s ears and out the other. Thank Merlin. 

“Coffee’s ready, dear brother,” George sang. “How do you take it?”

“Just black,” Bill responded. “Thank you, George.”

You peered at Bill through a sip of coffee. Your heart fluttered again. Summers were really the best. It was the only chance to see him again for a flicker of time, an hour or two, before he travelled halfway across the world again. In this case, in a week. As the meal went on, you stared at him so intently during breakfast that your fork speared your cheek instead of your mouth multiple times.

When breakfast concluded, you assured Molly that you’d take care of the dishes and ushered her to the door.

“I hope you have a nice time,” you said to Ron and his friends. He mumbled a thanks. You smiled at him, happy that you were making some progress with Percy’s younger brother. Your peace was ruined by Fred and George murmuring amongst themselves excitedly. You hoped it was about the World Cup and nothing else. 

Arthur was doing a routine headcount when he asked: “Where’s Bill?”

“He said he had some emergency work to finish up for the bank,” Charlie said. “Keep the portkey open for him for another hour, and he’ll be sure to make it by then.”

“If you need anything,” Percy said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You know where to find me.”

You nodded.

After the Weasleys left, you locked the door and headed back into the house. Knowing Bill was upstairs working, you got to tidying the kitchen in the quietest manner you could. You hoped the running water and the occasional clinking of dishes wasn’t bothering him. It would be really embarrassing if he came down to complain about the noise. 

After the kitchen was cleaned, you went outside to trim the shrubs, water the plants, and feed the cows. You forced yourself not to peek at the front door to see if Bill had left. He probably had, and it hurt a bit that he’d gone without saying goodbye. 

The temperature had risen dramatically since you arrived in the morning, and by the time you were done, you were a sweaty mess. Bill had likely gone which meant you’d have the house to yourself. You caved into the idea of a long bath to wipe the mud and grime off your body. You dashed up to the main washroom Molly offered you and began running the water. 

When you were finished with your bath, you wrapped a clean towel around you and proceeded to your room. Maybe you could do some reading and take a nap before deciding on dinner, Your chest tingled when you realised it was Bill’s old room—how lucky were you?  The first thing you noticed when you entered was that Bill’s room was clean and sparse. Molly had left a window cracked open to allow for a gentle breeze, and placed your clothes on the bed. You took a couple steps forward and let your towel drop on the floor to reach for your tank top when suddenly…

Your hand met a tuft of hair. Hair that was attached to a pale, sweaty head. 

You screamed as you tumbled back, your bare bum hitting the wooden floor. Oh, where the heck was your wand when you needed it? You grabbed a pair of slippers in self-defence. 

“Who’s there?” you said in the bravest voice you could muster. “You need to get out of here, now!”

The thing in the bed just groaned weakly. You saw a pale, shaking arm stick out of the covers. Whatever it was, it was at least human, hopefully. 

Your hand grappled the top of the desk for your wand. Once you found it, you rose cautiously from the floor with the intent to peel away the covers. You’d dealt with Boggarts; you’d seen your worst nightmares in person. You treaded cautiously because the creature could rise at any moment. But it didn’t, forcing you to get closer. 

Your heart almost stopped when your hands grasped the hem of the covers. Your life flashed before your eyes. You needed to survive. You needed to live to work with Percy at the Ministry come September. You needed to live for your family. You needed to live for the off chance Bill Weasley shared the same feelings as you—oh, you were about to die, what was the point of thinking about Bill?

With your wand in an offensive position, you ripped the sheets off. 

But there was nothing.

Nothing at all.

What?

It took you a few seconds to process it, but this… thing wasn’t a creature at all. In fact, it was Bill Weasley. Well, an apparition of him of sorts. He looked extremely pale and sickly, his skin the shade of paper. His ginger hair stuck to his face, his sweat binding it like it was wet glue. There was an intense warmth radiating from his skin, and his body jostled slightly as the cold air hit him.

“Bill? You called out in complete disbelief. “Are—are you okay?”

He groaned in response. Slowly, he turned his head towards you. He looked even worse up close, or as worse as Bill Weasley could possibly look. His eyebrows were intensely furrowed, his breathing laboured, and he could barely open those pretty eyes of his—oh, not this again! Bill looked to be on death’s bed and all you were thinking about was how handsome he was. 

“I don’t know what happened,” Bill breathed out. His voice was a mere rasp. “I was feeling fine this morning. I can hardly get up now. And I can’t talk,” he coughed as if to prove a point, “above a whisper.”

“Are you running a fever?” you inquired, concern thick in your voice. 

“No, I don’t think—,” Bill mustered the strength to open his eyes. He looked startled. “(Y/N)?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“Where…”

You looked at Bill intently.

“Where are your clothes?”

“Huh?”

You looked down. Your mouth went slack. You were barer than the day you were born. 

“Shit!” you exclaimed. “I’m sorry, don’t look, don’t look, sorry, sorry!” So caught up in the heat of things, you’d haphazardly abandoned your towel in exchange for your life. You scampered back to retrieve it and tied it back on yourself. When you looked up, Bill was, fortunately, turned away, and only a sliver of his naked back was visible to you. 

“Is there anything I can help with?” you asked in a state of panic. ‘Besides giving you a show?’ On the inside, you had to laugh at the thought of a striptease benefiting Bill’s health.

Bill was looking worse for wear with every passing second, and you were just prancing around without clothes. “Your mother keeps potions in the cabinet, doesn’t she? I’ll go find an antipyretic--”

Bill swiped at his forehead with his palm. “I don’t think it’s a fever, well, to the best of my knowledge.”

“Then perhaps some water?” you offered. “Or some soup?”

“(Y/N),” Bill called. Your name rolled off like velvet from his lips. “Come here, please.”

Your eyes widened. Your heart was beating erratically and whether it was out of fear or anticipation, you didn’t know. Still, you complied and began walking over. The floor felt like pricks underneath your feet. 

“Could you please take these sheets off?” Bill asked. “I might try to cool down.”

You nodded. “S-sure.” You pinched the hem of the bedsheet with your forefinger and thumb and carefully stripped the sheet off. Every second that passed unveiled a new, delicious sight: Bill’s toned chest, the crevice between his chest and abdominal muscles, the veins running down his forearms, and the shapely twin creases that led straight down to his briefs. A chill of disappointment ran through your body when you realised he was still clothed. 

‘Stay focussed’, you pleaded with yourself. You were here to help Bill, not to take advantage of him.

“Is that better?” you asked Bill, but your eyes weren’t on his face. They were instead fixated on the centre of his body and namely, the very present bulge at the apex of his black briefs. His manhood had tented so viciously that it stretched the black fabric until it was translucent. Was that a spot of pink flesh or were you just seeing things? You gulped and tried to reign in your imagination. 

Bill breathed out as the cool air kissed his skin. “Marginally.”

“I can bring the fan inside the room,” you suggested so quickly you almost toppled off the bed. 

“Wait.” Bill’s hand grabbed your wrist before you could get anywhere. Your skin scorched. “Can you help me with one more thing?”

You were about to explode. “Sure, Bill.” 

“Could you help me remove my briefs too?”

Your jaw had, at this point, permanently detached from your face. “What?”

“Just one last thing and my temperature should regulate itself.”

Was stripping really a remedy to Bill’s ailment? Shaking your head, you decided to help him in any way possible before running back to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face to ascertain that you weren’t dreaming. This definitely had to be a dream. Today probably hadn’t even started yet. Any minute now, your alarm would ring and you would wake up so disappointed. 

“Alright.”

Slowly, you hooked your fingers underneath the elastic waistband of Bill’s briefs. His blue eyes fluttered close and his face twisted in relief. You suppressed a groan at the sight of Bill like this, pleasured by your every touch.

You’d never admit that Fred was right in his observation this morning, but it was true that you’d never seen a… penis in the flesh. But there was no turning away now as your hands worked to expose every inch of pink flesh hiding underneath Bill’s undergarments. It was deliciously lewd, the way his long cock sprang out from the confines of his boxers and nearly slapping you in the face. A tad closer, and the appendage would’ve swiped your cheek. Just inches in front you pulsed a swelling, oozing pink tip that was connected to a thick shaft that only seemed to grow slightly in girth as you stripped him. 

You had nothing but anatomical pictures and the circumference of your wrist to compare him to, but even you knew he was bigger than average. Bill had, truly, the prettiest cock to ever exist. Pale, smooth, pink, but an angrier shade coloured the head. He was thick, but even thicker near the base. Veins painted his manhood like art. You almost had to wonder how he’d feel inside you, splitting your virgin pussy open. It would kill you.

Holy shit. You had to stop thinking, because you were getting yourself wet. 

Bill raised his hips up to help you bring the last bit of his briefs down from underneath him. Your hand grazed the back of his thigh. The unintended action elicited a not-so-subtle moan from Bill. 

“I’m sorry, I—,” Bill said, pushing himself up on the bed. His neck was flushed crimson and his breathing heavy. You had plummeted into the ocean with the saltwater flooding your ears; you could barely hear. You gulped as a bead of wetness suddenly spurted out of the tip of his cock and threatened to run down the length of it. “I reckon I was cursed or hexed by someone,” he surmised. “It’s not like me to require such things of you, or anyone for that matter.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered. Your hand was turning white with the deathgrip on your towel. “But Bill, did that… help?”

The smartest thing to do was to remove yourself from this conversation and call for help, but you kept pressing the topic. You planted your palms on the mattress and looked on in awe. Bill was well-endowed beyond your wildest dreams. You couldn’t stop admiring him.

Forgetting he was naked, Bill sat up. His cock curled closer to his navel as a result. “What?”

You ripped your eyes away from the bead of precum that’d captivated your attention. “When we touched. It seemed to bring some colour to your face.”

“Come to think of it, I reckon it did, yeah,” Bill responded. He furrowed his brows, his words dying on his lips. There was only one direction this conversation was going to go and you had steered it off the overpass and down the cliff. 

You spoke up first. “Have you tried touching…”

“Myself?” Bill finished with a chuckle.

You blushed. “Yes, well,” you countered. “It’s not entirely unreasonable, and—”

“I have.”

You tilted your head. “And?”

Bill attempted to lift his hands, but they gravitated down to the bed. “Well, I’ve… tried,” he admitted sheepishly, “but it’s made it worse.” He chuckled and shook his head at the state he was in. “And now I can’t even manage to move my arm.”

“Oh.” You frowned. “But when I touched you, you felt better?”

Bill blew out some air which tickled the wet hair on his forehead. He gestured to his raging erection. “Can you… would you mind? You’re right, it might help.”

Would you mind?

Of course you wouldn’t. 

“I’ve never, erm,” you countered. A blaze of heat rushed to your cheeks. You didn’t want to admit to Bill that Fred was right when he clocked you as a virgin, though it didn’t take a deep understanding of your person to come to that conclusion. You and Percy both looked down on dalliances as prefects back in school, even busting students in the act and sending them to be reprimanded. You reckoned Bill was going to find it uncool but it was better to be truthful. “I’ve never done this with anyone.”

He chuckled. “I figured.”

You wanted to shrivel up and die. 

“But it’s absolutely fine,” Bill correctly quickly, knowing he’d offended you slightly. “You don’t need to have done it to know how to do it. I’ll guide you.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

He did his best to motion to the base of him with his hands. “Grip me firmly down here.” 

You obliged, holding him at the base with your right hand as you clutched your towel in the other. For an usually flaccid body part, Bill was very, very hard and warm. All the blood in his body was concentrated into one area, so it made sense. You were grateful when your thumb still managed to touch the tips of your fingers because, well, he was quite big and you weren’t confident he was going to fit in your hand. 

“Move up and down,” Bill instructed in between heavy pants. You nodded. When you started shifting your hand from the base to the head and back, he let out a low groan. His skin felt like velvet in your hands; he felt so good. “Yeah, just like that.” Precum dribbled from Bill and onto from the side of your fingers as you moved faster and covered more ground. Bill’s eyes alternated from open to close in erratic intervals as you began to adjust your speed and the tightness of your fingers around him. When Bill stopped talking, you reckoned you were doing a pretty damn good job. 

Bill was powerless underneath you and you relinquished the feeling. But you wanted more. 

So, you shifted from the edge of the bed towards the end of it, squeezing yourself in between his long legs. You never took your hands off him in the process so Bill was none the wiser about your mischievous movements. So, it was only when Bill heard the creaking of the bed that he looked up in surprise. By then, it was too late. You had already stopped pumping his shaft and leaned in to inhale the sweet musk instead.

“Can I?” you asked, batting your eyelashes.

Bill inhaled sharply, his cock duking out his brain for once the last shred of modesty. Oh, fuck modesty. “Only if you want to.”

In one swift motion, you leaned in and kissed the red and leaking tip. Clearly, it was you who really wanted to do this. When the soft skin of your lips met the soft skin of his head, Bill let out an audible gasp that was immediately swallowed by a throaty moan. He was not expecting you to be so brazen, so generous in your help. Little did he know you’d do anything for him at this point, his own affliction long forgotten. 

“How does that feel?” you asked.

“Amazing,” he rasped.

You licked the precum—salty, a little tingly, you noted—off his slit with the tip of your tongue. He tasted so good. Bill threw his head back. The ridges of his abs crinkled as he tried to hold himself upright with his elbows on the bed. He wanted to see you. You smacked your lips, unable to wait patiently to devour your meal. Then, in a moment of pure deviousness and sheer horniness, you enveloped Bill’s tip around your mouth.

“Shit!” 

This was the last thing Bill said before he fell back onto the bed. You took that as a sign of surrender; what you were doing felt too good for him to keep his defences up. He’d long stopped giving you instructions and let you take reign. Emboldened, you licked the slit with your tongue with Bill still nestled in your mouth. You then began to take him in further, as far as you could before he reached a natural stopping point at the back of your throat. Your mouth tensed—he was too big to fit comfortably inside. You sucked in your cheeks, hypothesising that a tighter fit would feel better for Bill. Sure, you were inexperienced, but you weren’t stupid or ignorant on the subject of what was pleasurable. 

“Yes, that’s it, (Y/N), just like that.”

You forewent your towel in favour of holding onto Bill’s thighs, placing one hand on the side of each of his legs. Still, you pressed your breasts down on the bed to hide your nipples to preserve what little was left for Bill to still see. Then again, what was the point of dignity when his dick was in your mouth?

Bill’s hands quietly crept along the bedsheets and floated towards your head. From there, his long fingers wove and nestled themselves in your hair so deeply that it wouldn’t be easy for you to untangle yourself. Clever of him. His fingernails glided across your scalp, slowly, tenderly, like a predator circling their prey before the attack. Bill then started guiding your head up and down slowly, his patience clearly wearing thin and needing to take matters into his own hands--literally. 

“Feeling okay?” he asked.

You nodded, unable to speak. Bill noted this and chuckled. You gave him a pointed look. 

“Hard to look intimidating with my cock in your mouth, love,” he said, tightening his fingers around your hair. You grumbled something unintelligible. The wetness leaking out of your core spoke volumes for you. 

Bill’s hands were fully entangled in your hair as he continued to lift you up and down. Slow at first, but he could hardly contain himself after the first minute. The way his big cock pulsed in your mouth, gods… The faster he commanded you to move, the more his visage grew streaked from the tears in your eyes. You tightened your grip on his thighs every time his cock glided across your palate and pushed itself down your throat. You did everything in your power to not gag or choke, but when he did strike particularly deep, you pulled off of him immediately. 

“I’m sorry,” Bill quickly said. “Was that too much?”

You shook your head, wiped a wet line of tears from your face, coughed, and responded, “No, I’m fine.”

You crawled back to him and engulfed him without another word.

“Ah,” Bill breathed out. “Fuck, (Y/N). You feel so good.”

You shouldn’t be enjoying being used so much, but you loved it. Loved it especially when Bill held you in place and began thrusting into your mouth instead as a means to conserve effort and increase his speed. You were growing wetter and wetter with every compliment he spoke. You imagined Bill’s big hands gripping your hips, stilling you, as he thrust repeatedly into your pussy. You wanted to be used everywhere. 

“Shit,” he growled, lazy eyes hovering on you. Deliciously lazy and so hazy. “I’m close.”

He stopped thrusting, but you hadn’t stopped bobbing your head up and down. You were so far gone in your quest to make Bill come that you’d thrown your own needs aside. 

“Hold on, (Y/N),” Bill commanded. “Don’t you want to—ah—!”

You knew he’d reached his climax when his hips ascended and stilled above the bed. A deep moan left his mouth. Bill’s cock twitched heavily with every rope of cum that shot its way into your mouth. He didn’t quit until every crevice of your mouth was sloshing with his seed; he was a never-ending faucet of cum. 

After a minute, you finally detached yourself from him, careful to keep the fruits of your labour in your mouth and not on the bed sheets that Bill’s mother had laundered so well. You swallowed all the cum in your mouth. It wasn’t as pleasant as the books and films had made it out to be—it was warm and slightly bitter, but it was Bill’s and heaven knew you’d do anything for him.

Bill threw himself back on the bed, his head meeting the pillow with a soft thud. He was still breathing heavily as he reposed. Though his hair stuck wildly to his cheeks—which were slowly regaining colour—his face expressed newfound calm. 

Bill patted the pillow beside him, on the spot in between the wall and his body. “Come here,” he rasped, his eyes still closed. 

You obliged and scooted upwards. Bill splayed his arm on the pillow to give you a makeshift headrest. You settled into the nook of his bicep. Through the corner of your eye, you stole little glances at Bill and the rise and fall of his chest. A warm, midday breeze fluttered through the open windows, the red curtains billowing out. Everything was so serene, so tranquil, so…Holy shit, what had you just done? 

Just three hours ago, you were wistfully staring at Bill at breakfast, grateful to have seen him at all this year to feed your starving crush on him. Now, you were laying naked in his bed with him after giving him what you hoped was an acceptable blowjob. It was both great and terrible that you wouldn’t see him after today. How would you explain this to anyone if you couldn’t even believe it yourself? You needed to bolt and never see Bill again. 

Bill snapped you out of your trance. “(Y/N)?” 

“Yes, Bill?”

You turned around to find yourself reflected in his crystal blue eyes. 

“Would you like to finish, too?”

“Oh, uhm!” Well, you hadn’t expected him to ask you that. “No, I’m okay.” An utter lie. Your pussy was pleading to be fucked. You sat up, preparing yourself to go. “I should finish up with my chores. You should get going before the portkey closes.” 

Bill grasped your wrist again. “I don’t want to go.” He sat up with you and looked you straight in the eye. 

He was serious. The intensity of his gaze was so overwhelming that you looked down. You sucked a quiet breath in. 

“I want to make you feel good,” he said, placing a hand on your cheek. “Let me, please.”

You choked. Was Bill Weasley begging to go down on you? The resolute look on his face definitely extinguished any fight you had left in you. A fraction of a second after you nodded, Bill turned you over and kissed you. One hand remained on your cheek while the other wrapped itself around your naked waist to pull you closer until your chest was flush against his. If you weren’t focussed on how hard his lips were pressed on yours, you would’ve been more embarrassed about how your pert nipples were pressed against his chest. Bill obviously didn’t mind, in fact, he was trying to pull you in as close as possible, closing the last sliver of space between your bodies. 

Bill tilted his head to deepen the kiss. His lips felt like hard silk—a walking contradiction— against you and now you wished to feel them everywhere: on your neck, on your breasts, on your stomach and in between your legs. You reckoned he should kiss heavily in between your legs. 

Bill was all lean muscle and long limbs. He couldn’t splay out on the bed as easily as you could. He landed on his knees, then shifted you upwards until your head was resting against the baseboard of the bed. He spread your legs with his hands—so big that they absolutely swallowed you—using his thumb as anchors. 

He looked back up at you. His eyes had darkened significantly, like a sudden storm that had broken through a clear day. Whatever drug was flowing through his veins, it was only growing more potent. “You’re so wet.” 

You made an attempt to shut your legs. You were cycling through moments of confidence and embarrassment, and his words made you want to curl up and die.

“Don’t,” Bill said. “You turn me on so much. Who knew that behind such an innocent facade was a girl begging to be fucked?”

And just like that, your legs fell open in one buttery smooth motion. 

”That’s it, such a good girl for me,” Bill praised. He leaned in and ran his tongue flat over your folds. You squirmed but his iron-clad hold on you prohibited any movement. You tried so very hard to quiet yourself as his tongue painted you in oscillating strokes. You gasped whenever he landed briefly on your clitoris. He hummed, pleased, and let the vibrations rock your body. Your breathing was dangerously unsteady as Bill pulled you closer to him and increased the intensity of his tongue. He unlatched one hand from your thigh and shifted them near your drooling entrance. Gently, he inserted a finger. Before you could jump upwards at the intrusion, he brought his tongue back to your clit to massage away any pain. “So sweet,” he hummed again. Bill kept his finger steady inside you until your squirming stopped. 

“You’re so tight,” Bill whispered. He added another finger to your already taut hole. “I can barely fit two fingers in here. How do you suppose you’ll take my cock, hm?” 

A rhetorical question. Instead of waiting for an answer, Bill began moving his fingers back and forth. You let out a small whine that you buried into the pillow. “Sh, it’s okay, just relax, darling,” Bill assured. In a matter of moments, Bill had gone from shallow little thrusts to burying his fingers to the hilt. The motion of his fingers curling inside you elicited a load moan from your lips, and your legs parted further in response. It was over when his stupid tongue found its way back to your clit; you nearly screamed. He flicked your sensitive bud over and over, building the pressure in the region. Between that, and Bill’s face buried between your legs and the wet sounds of his fingers inside you, you were just one thrust away from coming undone.

“Bill, Bill—” you tried to stop him, too scared to be thrown over the edge. But Bill showed no sign of stopping. When he sucked on your clit, you knew it was over. He had pushed you off the cliff. “Bill!” 

You clamped down on his hand, but Bill hadn’t stopped moving; he was intending to fuck you through it. Waves of pleasure, sweetly punctuated by Bill’s nimble fingers, washed over you until you had no coherent thought left. You laid there for a minute, until your heart rate had finally settled back to normal. 

“I’m getting impatient,” Bill chuckled. “Seeing you writhe around like that, coming on all over my hand, Merlin..”

You tightened your lips. “Me too.”

“What was that?” he teased, pretending not to hear. 

“I’m getting impatient.”

“For what?”

“You know what for.”

He shot you a cocky grin. “I won’t know until you tell me.”

“Fuck me, Bill,” you almost screamed. “Fuck me, please.” It was killing you. You looked down at Bill’s manhood. He looked even harder and fuller than how you found him, if that were even possible. His cock twitched to stand at full attention when you shuffled back to him. You wanted to feel him, so warm and engorged, inside you, splitting you open with how big he was. 

“You’re so needy, (Y/N),” Bill teased. He laid down. “Get on top of me, I want to see you.” 

You clambered over immediately. You splayed a leg on each side of him and propped yourself up with your knees. Wordlessly, Bill pulled you in and your body listened. He met your lips for another kiss that showed no signs of being broken. Well, not until he decided to latch onto one of your nipples instead. His lips covered the circumference of your areola and sucked gently. 

“Bill,” you whimpered, succumbing once again to his dexterous tongue. He swirled around your sensitive bud, flicking it back and forth, and sending little electric shocks down to your toes. You were getting so, so wet for him.

One of Bill’s hands trailed down to his cock and gave it a couple of strokes before he aimed it towards your core. You moaned every time he pressed against your throbbing clit before moving back to your opening and repeating the motion. You needed to come again, and Bill was intent on bringing you there. He rubbed the head back and forth, concentrating the slick to where he eventually wanted to be. He was showing great restraint; it was taking everything not to just thrust into you. 

“You already feel so good,” he praised. “So wet, so tight, love, all for me. I can’t wait to fuck this tight pussy.”

Bill piled on the words and continued to ravish your breasts as a distraction of what was to come. The head of his cock was directly aligned with your opening that was weeping at the thought of him inside you. But the largest thing you’d taken ever were Bill’s fingers; he couldn’t possibly fit without absolutely destroying you. The universe couldn’t have gifted you with a warm-up, could it? Instead, it gifted you the girth of Bill. Still, you remained in place, readying yourself as he began to enter you. 

You gasped at the first intrusion. You clenched Bill’s forearms in retaliation, your mouth parting in shock. You wanted him badly, but your anatomy wasn’t letting your desires take the front seat. 

Bill placed a hand on your back. Stiff. “You’re tense,” he noted, kissing up on your neck. “Just relax. It’ll feel good, I promise.” You nodded, trusting him. 

“Hngh—!” was all you let out when he pushed deeper. Your breathing fell out of sync as you tried to calm yourself. Maybe this was it, and all of him was already inside of it. 

“That’s just my head inside you, love,” Bill stated, as if reading your mind.  

You paled. “How are you so big?”

Bill chuckled in agreement before swallowing you in a kiss. His tongue found its way into your mouth, and you could taste the pure need radiating off him. He gave little shallow thrusts, trying to ease himself into you. Though it still burned heavily, a ring of pain, as he stretched you out, Bill’s pace was making it much more tolerable and frankly, more erotic. 

When he was halfway in, Bill’s eyes fell shut in utter bliss. His hands gripped your ass cheeks, pulling them apart, as if it would help you sink further down on him. 

“You take me so well,” he said as he continued impaling your poor little pussy. He never stopped littering you with kisses, whether it was on your lips, cheeks, neck, or breasts. He suckled your tits again when he rammed the thickest part of him inside you in one thrust. 

You stifled a cry into the crook of his neck and tightened your arms around him. “Bill!”

“Give it a minute, (Y/N),” he assured, but his voice sounded garbled, so far away. “I promise, it’s going to feel so good.”

When he felt you relax a little, Bill began to increase the length of his thrusts, breaking into your pussy a little more each time. You fell onto him, the pleasure beginning to overwrite the pain. 

Bill moaned as he sped up the slightest. “You’re so tight, (Y/N), tighter than I could’ve ever imagined.” His words only added fuel to the fire. “I can’t believe it’s me that gets to break into your pussy.”

“Then break me, Bill,” you pleaded. “Please. Harder.”

He chuckled. “You don’t have to ask twice.”

Bill looped his arms around you to hold you in place. From there, he began to drive himself into you faster, harder, just like a hole to be used for his pleasure, just like you had asked.

“Oh!” 

You could hardly keep your eyes open as he assaulted your body. He tested different depths and angles, watching your facial expressions for the perfect one. His long, deep strokes were landing on the perfect place - a place that had you seeing stars. So pleasurable but just millimetres away from being too much, too painful. There was so much of him inside you. Your legs stiffened, almost cramping, as the heat increased in pitches in your core. Your hands went wild, trying to find a place to stabilise your body. They found refuge on the top of the headboard. In one particularly hard thrust, he sheathed himself completely inside you, the widest part of him spearing you open. 

That was the precise moment you came undone, screaming. White obfuscated your vision as you lost control of your body. You convulsed on him, your pussy contracting around his cock like a vice. Bill continued to fuck you through your orgasm, bottoming out in you repeatedly,  letting you ride out the pleasure for as long as humanely possible. You fell onto him like a rag doll, limp, worn out from your second orgasm. Bill could only smile at a job well done. He withdrew himself from you and flipped you over. He nestled his manhood back between your legs. You watched with excitement as his cock, covered in your cream, sprang to his navel. You felt so hollow without him inside you, and you were about to beg for him again, but he moved quickly. He leaned towards you, placing the head of his cock to your opening once again. But instead of delving into you like you had hoped, he rubbed himself against you, occasionally pushing into you the slightest.  

Confused, you raised your hips up, trying to align yourself perfectly with his cock and push him back in. But your attempts were futile. 

“Don’t do that,” you chastised when you realised he was doing this on purpose. 

“Do what?” Bill asked innocently. 

“Tease me like this.”

He smirked. “Who said I was teasing you?” 

Just as you were about to retort, Bill drove himself into you when you were least expecting it, burying himself entirely into you. Your body shivered in pleasure, legs straightening and stiffening. You screamed when he quickened his pace, pounding into you with deep, full thrusts. His hands gripped your bouncing breasts, keeping them in place and occasionally pinching your nipples. Bill pushed himself to the hilt, then almost withdrew completely, before filling you up again as hard as he could. At certain points, he would hit a bundle of nerves that caused your toes to curl. At some point, you couldn’t tell the difference between pain and pleasure—it all felt so overwhelmingly good. 

The lewd sound of his balls hitting your skin was heaven to your ears. In this moment, you wanted nothing more than to be filled with his seed. 

“Come inside me,” you near screamed. 

Your little request was enough to break Bill out of his trance. “What?”

“Come inside me,” you repeated. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” 

With no reason to ask you to clarify again, Bill obliged. He gave a couple more thrusts, so powerful it forced your body to slide up over the bedsheets and your head to almost slam into the headboard. Then, he let out a loud, choked grunt, his eyes screwing shut. You could feel his cock twitch heavily inside you as he deposited his seed, filling your pussy. He hovered over you, exhausted, draining every last bit of him inside you. Both of you shared the same laboured respiration. You reached up and pushed back the ginger hair that was strewn across his forehead.

Bill began to soften inside you, but refused to pull out just yet. If you stayed here like this any longer, there was no doubt you’d meld together into one.

With a heavy almost regretful breath, Bill reluctantly removed himself out of you. You felt his cum trickling rapidly out of you and onto the bed sheets. You sat up to look. There was so much. it was smeared all over your sex, all over your inner thighs, and all over the sheets. There was no doubt there was more deep inside you. 

You looked up at Bill. Much to your disappointment, he looked to be back to his usual, happy self. Your services were no longer required. And much to your disappointment, he was looking around for his briefs. Well, it wasn’t like you could stay in paradise forever. 

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he said. 

“Of course,” you responded.

Bill gave you a small peck on the lips which made you smile. Then, it all went downhill from there, as he returned not more than a second later for another kiss. This time, deeper, thick with more lust. The next kiss, he had you pinned you on the bed by the arms. Unexpectedly, you felt him harden against you once more. His cock was back its previous stiffness and trying to find its way back to your cunt. 

He paused. “I’m not sure what’s gotten into me,” Bill admitted sheepishly.

“You mean you’re not usually like this?” you questioned with a smile. You didn’t mind it, not one bit. 

He contemplated it. “It has been a while, but it’s highly unlikely for me to go twice, let alone three times a day.”

“Really?” You cocked your head. “Is that not—”

Before you could speak, Bill plunged himself into you once more. Your mouth went slack. It was quite an effective way to shut you up. Most of his spend was still either deep inside you or running down your inner thighs, but he was intent on pumping you full of him even more. 

You had no complaints. Instead, you succumbed to the wet sloshes of his thrusts and messy kisses once again.

…..

In a tent one long Portkey away from the Burrow, a very different conversation was taking place.

“How do you reckon our Paradise Potions did?” 

“Considering that Bill hasn’t joined us, I’d say pretty well.”

END!

Part 2

[bananawafers]

jjk men in the delivery room! pt. 2!

woot woot! check out pt.1 here!

ㅤ♡ nanami kento ㅤ♡

• so, SO overly prepared

• military-grade hospital bag

• timing your contractions, checking monitors, adjusting your pillow

• your comfort > anything else

• tries to get you to do breathing exercises with him & you just keep laughing. haha nerd ! ☜(`o´)

• “for the love of— just one moment of seriousness. one.”

• he might be exasperated with you, but the moment you wince and your goofy smile drops, he wants nothing more than to bring it back

• every time you cry or yelp from the pain he has to close his eyes for a second, breathe through it with you. he won’t cry—he can’t, not yet

• queen never cry

• he may not cheer or shout, but the pride in his eyes says everything the moment he sees his child. he’d brush your hair out of your face, press a lingering kiss to the top of your head, and speak softly

• “that’s my girl…”

• you catch his wobbly smile before he even realizes it

• you know better than to call him out on it

• girl dad. fosholy

• sooo careful holding the baby. asks the nurses how to do it

• “i assume there’s a technique for this, yes? a specific way to keep her stable”

• the baby’s tiny pink outfit against his serious, perfectly tailored shirt and black pants looks almost comedic

• thanks the nurses like he’s in a business conference

❤︎ geto suguru ❤︎

• so calm and supportive!!! like . biology aside, he is mother ♡(˘̩̩̩̩̩̩ ⌂ ˘̩̩̩̩̩̩)

• rubs your back, holds your hand, or just rests his hand on your leg. every touch is slow, deliberate, as if to remind you that he’s not going anywhere

• poor guy just feels so guilty, like he’s responsible for your pain

• whispers sweet little praises as he holds you. how you’re so beautiful, so perfect, so above him

• staff is flabbergasted at how calm he is

• “are you sure this is your first time in the delivery room, sir?”

• like !! the way he encourages you, you’d think he was a midwife in a past life

• “keep those shoulders loose, okay? you’re doing so well” as he gently massages your shoulders

• fast forward and the baby is finally out, you’re dazed, eyes fluttering, voices and sounds blur into white noise

• he slips an arm around your shoulders and lowers his head to rest his chin gently against your shoulder. “hey… hey. look.” he softly lifts your cheek to look at the foot of the bed, where the doctor holds the baby. “just look at her.”

• fml

• forgot to mention. girl dad. goes without saying

𓏵 sukuna ryomen 𓏵

• WHO INVITED YOU

• GET OUT

• POLICE

• breathing down the doctor’s neck fr

• “don’t you fools have something stronger to give her? anesthesia? an IV of something potent— hell, knock her out for a bit”

• tapping on the heart monitor like it’s a fish tank

• plays with the hospital bed remote, lifting it and lowering it mid-contraction

• you’re literally writhing in pain and he’s so over it

• “didn’t realize i needed earplugs”

• gets up and stands directly in front of the doctor like a mob boss waiting for results

• “taking too damn long.” he says, looking between your legs, completely unfazed. he glances up at you. “say the word and i’ll pull the sucker out myself”

• when the baby is born, he lets out a sigh. “finally. took long enough”

• he walks over and squints at the newborn. “…why does it look like an alien.”

• sort of just watches you hold the baby with mild curiosity

• when you hand the baby to him, he holds it like a live grenade

• eventually sits down, still rigid, but quieter. after minutes of intense scrutiny, his shoulders relax a little. he leans in close to the baby and whispers. “you better grow into that head, runt” (was that affection in his tone?)

pt. 3 - choso, toji => here :D

[alyakthedorklord]

Batman the Playboy

Justice League, not quite early days but before proper identity reveals, though everyone knows Batman knows theirs, bc he has Opinions™ and Constructive Criticisms™ on their secret-keeping.

The issue is brought up on random occasions. The most notable incident- the Justice League, including Batman, being Drunk for Bonding, (or hit with some kind of drug while out saving the world) and Batman, in a fit of paranoid good intentions because he CARES about these idiots, damnit, why must they be so careless, starts insulting them.

Batman, leaning heavily on the table: “GL, you’re a mess, I don’t even know where to start with you. And Arrow! Your goatee is so distinctive, it’s a wonder no one has called you out on it-“

Green Arrow, also drunk: “Alright, there’s no need to insult my awesome facial hair-”

Batman, in despair: “It’s so ugly.”

Green Arrow: (offended noises)

Green Lantern: “Okay, the only reason you know our secret identities is because you’re a rude nosy bastard who needs to know everything about us like a creepy stalker who needs an ego boost! We’re not stupid, Spooky, we’re just polite. We could figure you out easily if we wanted to. Superman can see right through your mask!”

Usually, Batman would have a good response to that. Something smart and reasonable like “villains won’t care for your privacy, I’m testing you,” or something cutting like “I don’t care enough about you to go digging, I set your secret identity as a training exercise for Robin.”

However, Batman is Drunk, because for some reason imbibing drugs that dampen higher brain function is socially acceptable and often, for some reason, expected, because it’s “team bonding” and “come on just loosen up a bit.” (Also for him, drunk=Brucie)

So what Batman ends up saying is: “I could kiss you full on the lips in my secret identity and you wouldn’t know a thing.”

Superman, plucking the glass from Batman’s hand: “Aaaand that is enough alcohol for you!”

Batman nods. Thank God. He wants to go home and sleep. But first: “Superman, yours is so stupid it’s almost impressive-”

———

Of course, Green Lantern has smelled a challenge. And Green Lantern must annoy Batman. It’s his true superpower. So, the next time they meet (sober) he brings up the issue again.

GL: “So about what you said at the party… the part where you could kiss us full on the lips without us knowing. You still confident in that without liquid courage, Spooky? Bet you your real name you can’t do it.”

Batman, regretting the fact that alcohol has ever passed his lips: “I could do it, but I will not.”

Flash, curious: “Why’s that?”

Batman: “Informed Consent. I will not risk making any of you feel violated, or manipulated, for the sake of a stupid bet and my ego.”

GA, still offended by the goatee comment, trying to back Batman into a corner: “So if we give consent, we’re fair game? Try me, Batman. Even you can’t pull this off. Anyone else game?”

Some of the Justice League laughs, raising their hands.

Flash: “Come get me, hot stuff! I’ll call you out!”

Wonder Woman: “It could be amusing.”

Martian Manhunter: “I would be far too difficult a target.”

Green Arrow: “Not just you. C’mon, Spooky, flirting well enough to get a kiss from me? I’m a classy lady.”

Black Canary: “D-class, maybe.”

Superman, wants a kiss in on the fun: 🙋🏻‍♂️

“So that’s it then!” Green Lantern says smugly. “Batman, if you can kiss… how many people raised their hands? Ah yes- HALF THE JUSTICE LEAGUE, without anyone realizing it’s you, then you win.”

Batman scoffs and walks out, leaving the Justice League in stitches at their joke. Because- Batman? Being good enough at flirting to land a kiss on half the league, without it being forced or awkward, without them recognizing his body language, his voice, his build? How ridiculous!

The Batman is Autistic. The Batman does not understand jokes, especially not ones that are half truths. The Batman has consent, and something to prove.

And Bruce Wayne, billionaire, playboy, and sexy DILF, has targets.

(Please tell me how you think he gets each League member.)

Edit: there have been a bunch of awesome additions in the notes! My own take here.

[tikitakatia]

Fixer Upper — A. Putellas x Reader

"Kicked Out of Pilates"

WC: 1.2k

Summary: You knew she´d be bad at it, but not this bad.

It starts with a smug grin and her famous last words.

“Babe, I’m a professional athlete.”

You don’t even look up from your protein shake. You just sigh, already sensing the incoming storm.

Alexia leans against the counter, arms crossed, still sweaty from training and radiating the kind of overconfidence that precedes something catastrophic. 

“I don’t think I’m gonna get much out of this class,” she says.

“I mean, come on. Pilates?”

You take a long sip of your drink, buying time before you say something sharp. Something like Pilates will destroy you and I will laugh. But instead, you go for neutral. Measured.

“It’s not about brute force,” you tell her.

“It’s about control, precision and core strength.”

Alexia snorts. Actually snorts. 

“My core could beat yours.” She says childishly. 

You raise an eyebrow. “You think this is a competition?”

“Everything’s a competition,” she shoots back, eyes gleaming.

You mutter something under your breath, but you let it go. Because part of you, okay well, all of you, wants to watch her crash and burn.

Just a little bit.

The studio smells like eucalyptus and like someone took the scent of a relaxing spa and bottled it up for mass consumption. You’re early, like always, so you begin stretching on the mat, calm and focused, while Alexia’s poking at the reformer like it might bite her.

“What is this?” she asks, genuinely baffled.

“It looks like a medieval torture device.”

“It’s about to become one.” You smirk.

She rolls her eyes, loud and unsubtle, and the instructor, a perfectly serene woman named Claudia who probably drinks her smoothies with spirulina, walks in.

“Everyone ready?” Claudia chirps.

You nod. Alexia does not.

Instead, she mumbles something about how she could’ve done squats at home and not wasted her morning pretending to be a ballerina. 

Claudia, bless her soul, just smiles and says, “Let’s begin with a neutral spine.”

Alexia turns to you and whispers, “What the hell is a neutral spine?”

You elbow her. “Shut up and engage your core.”

Ten minutes in, the cracks begin to show.

Claudia is calmly guiding everyone through slow, precise movements. Your body moves easily, years of muscle memory clicking into place.

You’re zoned in and focused. This is your space.

Alexia on the other hand, is struggling.

Not physically yet. But mentally, emotionally, spiritually? She’s fighting a war.

Her legs are shaking. Her arms are trembling. The reformer spring tension has betrayed her. And she will not stop talking.

“Is this even real exercise?”

“Why is this plank harder than usual?”

“Who invented these blocks? This is so dumb.”

“I think the machine’s broken. Babe. Babe, it’s broken.”

Claudia ignores her with the kind of professional detachment you aspire to one day achieve. You, however, are two seconds from faking a hamstring tear just to escape from your girlfriend´s dramatics.

The tipping point comes during a deceptively gentle sequence.

Claudia instructs the class to lie on their sides and do slow leg lifts with resistance bands. You’re breathing, focusing, engaged. You glance at Alexia.

Big mistake.

She’s propped on one elbow, face red, one leg halfway up and trembling violently, sweat dotting her forehead. She looks over at you, betrayal in her eyes.

“You’re not even struggling,” she hisses.

“I’ve been doing this for years,” you whisper back.

“Shut up and breathe.”

“I am breathing. I’m breathing fire.”

“Then maybe shut up and burn quietly.”

That’s when she mutters, not-so-quietly,

“This is physical abuse.”

Claudia turns, still smiling, still terrifying. “Alexia, why don’t we move you to the front? I can guide you better from here.”

It’s not a suggestion. It’s a death sentence.

Alexia tries to play it cool as she moves. You don’t even look at her. You can feel the smugness radiating off Claudia now.

She puts Alexia in the straps. Tightens the tension. Adjusts the springs. And then says five words that chill your soul.

“Let’s try an advanced variation.”

You silently cross yourself and send a prayer for your girlfriend.

Alexia makes it twenty more minutes.

Twenty minutes of being turned into human origami. Of grunting, groaning, arguing with the machine. At one point, she kicks a foam roller across the room and calls it “possessed.”

At another, she yells, “I CAN SPRINT FOR NINETY MINUTES BUT I CAN’T DO THIS FOR NINETY SECONDS.”

You’re hiding behind your towel, pretending you don’t know her. Claudia doesn’t even blink. She’s clearly dealt with worse, but even she has limits.

At the fifty-minute mark, Claudia claps her hands and says,

“Class dismissed. Except for you two. A word, please.”

You brace yourself.

The ban is delivered with kindness. Which somehow makes it worse.

“It’s not that we don’t welcome beginners,” Claudia says, folding her hands.

“But the... energy... today was a bit disruptive.”

You nod, already apologizing. You’re in full damage-control mode. Meanwhile, Alexia is sitting on a bench, legs trembling, trying to hide the fact that she might cry if she stands up again.

“I didn’t mean to be disruptive,” she mumbles softly, like a child that has been told off.

“I just, this isn’t what I expected.”

Claudia softens, just slightly and gives her a condescending pat on the shoulder.

“Pilates humbles everyone, but practice makes perfect.”

Back home, Alexia collapses face-first onto the couch.

You throw her a bottle of magnesium lotion and start rummaging for the heating pad.

“I can’t move,” she groans into a pillow.

“I think I pulled something in my psyche.”

“I told you it wasn’t a joke.”

“I thought it was gonna be stretching and breathing! I didn’t know it was, whatever the hell that was!”

You’re trying to stay mad. Really, you are. But she just looks so damn pathetic. Her legs are splayed, her hair’s a mess, and she’s still wearing one sock. The other was lost somewhere during a lunge series you’re not ready to talk about.

You crouch beside her and start massaging her calves, firm but careful.

She groans. Loudly and dramatically.

“Don’t make sex noises at me right now,” you mutter.

“This is better than sex,” she moans, then corrects herself,

“No, wait. Top three, though.”

You roll your eyes, but your hands don’t stop. She’s warm under your fingers, muscles tight, trembling a little. You dig into the knots, working them out slowly.

“I deserved this,” she mutters after a while.

“You did.”

“I’m sorry I made a scene.”

“You’re not.”

“Okay, I’m sorry you had to be there for it.”

That’s better.

You lean down, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. She sighs, letting you work, her body heavy and pliant beneath your hands now. Like all the fight’s drained out, leaving only the girl who trusted you enough to fall apart in a Pilates studio.

“You’re not taking me back there, are you?”

“No,” you say.

“They banned us.”

“Really?”

You nod.

Alexia lets out a sleepy laugh, one hand reaching back to pat your thigh.

“You’re still the hottest person in that studio,” she says.

You lean forward, lips brushing her ear.

“You got kicked out of Pilates.”

She groans. “Can we never talk about this again?”

But you will. Oh, you absolutely will.

Later when she’s recovered, she's cocky again. You´ll remind her that her Achilles’ heel is a twenty-dollar foam block and a woman named Claudia.

You press a final kiss to her temple, settle beside her on the couch, and pull the blanket over both of you.

“Next time,” she mumbles, already half-asleep,

“I pick the activity.”

You smile against her skin.

“Whatever you want, darling.”

[staryuee]

are you able to make some head canons of scaramouche, kazuha, xiao, (BASICALLY ANEMO BOYS), neuvi, kinich on how they react to reader being nonchalant like lwk i think itd be funny

NONCHALANT S/O

꒰warnings꒱ N/A

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . xiao, kazuha, scaramouche, neuvillette, kinich

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . happy new year ♡ still on hiatus but i didn’t want to leave you guys completely high and dry d(^_^o) + also kinich is most definitely out of character just bc i refuse to play the new update so i know nothing about him

XIAO

ʚ it doesn’t bother him, if anything he likes the fact you’re able to brush things off easily (makes it easier for him to stop crouching on nearby trees to assure you’re safe, but lord do you sometimes hurt his ego)

ʚ xiao isn’t confident in romantic gestures, even something as small as a compliment or pinky holding has him wanting to disappear and recover…so when you so easily act indifferent to it while he’s practically drunk on flush straight up makes him die a little

ʚ aside from the slight jabs to his pride, you aren’t uncaring and dumb enough to let his love go unnoticed (thankfully) so he can fully appreciate that you protect your peace

ʚ haunted by memories of war, death and the stench of metal, it’s nice to find some solace in the cool air you exude

ʚ from the outer perspective, two people who have nonchalant energy wouldn’t seem to work too well (but lord do people drool when you two are duoed for a fight), but you and xiao just click!

ʚ he’s quiet, protective but sweet and ready to take the first step to love you, while you’re chilled, confident and allow him to take comfort in someone who’s stable (and sometimes snarky lol)

KAZUHA

ʚ he takes your nonchalant energy as you being ditzy or levelheaded if anything - in other words - it’s really endearing!

ʚ you sort of match his personality to the T, except he’s just the slightest bit more reciprocal with other people’s energy meanwhile you just stand back with your hands either tucked in your pockets or fiddling with the edge of his scarf

ʚ he actually kinda just enjoys teasing you if anything to see if anything can make you crack, most attempts end in failure but it is a rather cute bonding exercise to whoosh you with anemo energy out of the blue to then help you reorganise your hair and straighten your clothes

ʚ he does worry for you on the occasion when you seem to show a lack of interest in him, he’s a pure romantic at heart! he thrives off the attention from his beloved partner! but once in a while you do show him just how much you love him

ʚ did he immediately brighten when you once placed your head on his lap really quietly when he was humming a melody to you? yes, and he has no shame about that

SCARAMOUCHE

ʚ oh you PISS him off

ʚ if ignorance and arrogance were ever personified it would be you and him respectfully

ʚ obviously you both love each other on deeper levels than just: “even though i’m above you i’ll still let you hold my hand, — “okay.” - but your relationship is just…humorous at best from an outsider’s view

ʚ the akademiya’s student body is currently conflicted between the idea that your relationship is either ideal or highly toxic

ʚ on one hand, it’s really adorable to see the mysterious, snarky student of vahumana that rarely ever comes to class be so oddly…chatty in your presence, as you so lovingly listened to every word (if the people close enough to actually hear can be bothered to ignore the fact he’s badmouthing the entire school while you shrugged at every word)

ʚ aside from the yapper x listener duo, he’d also…a little more physically affectionate? he rests his head on your lap quite frequently because you say nothing and therefore don’t bother teasing him

ʚ that’s also the main thing he hates: how nonchalant you are about everything makes his indifference seem futile and oddly more vulnerable. you don’t care about anything, and it’s incredibly infuriating! the first time he said “i love you” you replied with “huh?” and that was the first time he’s ever felt so scornful

ʚ he loves you most days, so he will deal with your frustrating silence - it’s nice to see him become the person he wanted to be with someone who rarely intervenes

NEUVILLETTE

ʚ he’s worried, intrigued and a little jealous all at once.

ʚ worried because he fears that your indifference is a direct consequence of his own inadequacy. are you perhaps not satisfied?? do you not like it when he cups the side of your face when he kisses you? or do you hate the purring noises he makes when you curl your hands in his hair? …it’s raining in fontaine again

ʚ he’s intrigued mostly because you don’t seem to care or even be fazed by the fact you’re not only dating a dragon - but a primordial, godly being that precedes the creation of the modern teyvat. he didn’t think the information would be useful to you in the first place, but when you asked so nicely about the two blue steaks in his hair, he felt obliged to tell you - and yet you replied with “oh, cool.”

ʚ a little jealous just because this attitude is rather perfect in court. you can’t show bias and any emotion whether for defence or prosecution can skew your perspective on a trial - it’s difficult. he’s grown to love the little beings that run around fontaine carelessly, passing judgement has become something so much more colourful than black and white. but with you? it’s like you either have no opinion, or just to not engage - slightly admirable, if a little scary

ʚ at the end of the day, it doesn’t worry him too badly. nonchalance doesn’t necessarily mean emotionally unavailable - and believe me he spends enough time next to you to love the little quirks and habits you do when no one is looking at that façade of yours

KINICH

ʚ you 🤝 kinich - two peas in a pod

ʚ you don’t give a shit about anything? neither does he! do you wanna kiss?

ʚ ajaw lowkey hates you both (said with affection) and does NOT hesitate to let his opinion be known, though kinich is of course quick to shut him down

ʚ he kind of enjoys peering his head at you during conversations to see what you’re like - if your face scrunches when people say something weird, if your brows pitifully furrow at the mention of loss, or even if you smile at laughter — and he sees quite literally nothing, which was honestly like looking in a mirror

ʚ no one actually knows how two people with nearly the exact same level of charisma (none) got together, but you two are happy with each other, so really - who else needs to comprehend your relationship?

ʚ you have a really similar approach to life: do what you must to get what you want. but to him that means dangerous commissions that no one would probably want, and to you that means lounge around graffitiing a wall with some symbols you thought of on the spot

ʚ it’s genuinely infuriating to have a conversation with either of you though when the person speaking isn’t looking for particular help (or is speaking too slowly for either of your likings), you either brush the person off and walk away, or kinich talks back rather abruptly

ʚ mualani made it a non negotiable rule to have someone, hopefully the traveler, around either one of you like some sort of support dog to ensure you guys actually socialise and don’t sit there like owls waiting to bite

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏ��

[dustysalmon]

I've been thinking, can we have a nsfw alphabet about Steb? (or Scar), I haven't seen anything about it yet, so we really need it. (it's really up to you, it can be sfw or nsfw)🙏🏻

Ohhhh anon, I'm so glad you asked. Here we go! (might do Scar and sfw later)

STEB NS//FW ALPHABET

More Steb headcanons

MDNI

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

If you think that fish-man is going to sleep after doing the do, you are WRONG! King of aftercare, gentle caresses on your skin, cuddles, massage (he uses special techniques he learnt during his paramedical training), and he will also be happy to cook something for you if you’re hungry. If he was a bit rougher than usual, he will kiss every sore spot on your body, for hours if you ask him

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your mouth. He loves everything about your mouth. They way it moves when you talk or smile, the sounds that come out of it when he kisses you or makes love to you. He also loves the things you do to him with this mouth

On himself, he is quite proud of his hands. They’re quite soft, delicate and skilful (you definitely know something about that last one). He likes to use his hands to show you just how much he adores you

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

It can get a little messy due to the amount of cum he produces. It keeps dripping and dripping, it’s a lot to handle but the two of you have learnt how to deal with it. Also, Steb always cleans after himself, good fish-man that he is. The refractory period can take a while, though, but he has hands and a mouth for a reason

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves to see his fluids mix with yours, like he has to see it, visually. Something about getting down and dirty

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not all that experienced, he hasn’t been with many people before. The first time you get intimate,  he will map your entire body and commit every detail to memory to learn exactly what you like. His observing skills and ability to learn make up for his lack of experience, nothing to worry about here

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Watching you ride him is his favourite, and nothing comes close. He gets to see your body AND your eyes, and that’s the most important thing to him. He is utterly and unequivocally in love with your body, and he is mesmerised by the way you move on top of him. If you hold hands while you do it, it’s all over for him

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Steb doesn’t play when it comes to sex, he’s very serious (in a romantic way of course), and will be driven by the need to make you feel loved and leave you satisfied. He definitely gets a little goofier during after care

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Steb is completely hairless down there. The only hair you will find is on his head, and he takes great care of those because his species don’t usually have any. He’s quite proud of his undercut, thank you very much

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Romantic like you wouldn’t believe, lots of eye contact because he always wants to make sure that you’re feeling good. Prepare yourself for a lot of intense kissing sessions. His main love language is touch, and no part of your body will be left behind.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He will sometimes indulge in little solo sessions when he takes a bath. It’s a bit of a spiritual exercise for him. One time, you walked in on him jacking off, and asked him to keep going while you touched yourself too. And it has become something you really like doing

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Steb has a bit of a submissive nature, and praise really works for him. Call him a good boy and he will be done for. Sometimes you will say that in the middle of the day just to see him blush furiously. When you ride him, he really likes when you get dominant and pin his wrists above his head, that will turn him into a whimpering mess in no time

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a romantic, so the bed will be his go to. Because of his introverted nature he is not really into risky locations where there would be a chance of getting caught. He won’t say no if you wanna ride him on the couch, though. Also, shower/bath sex, he’s the most comfortable whenever there’s water around

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Kiss that fish-man’s neck once, and you know neither of you will be getting out of the house for the next hour at least. It’s not that his neck is particularly sensitive, but there’s something so sensual about the way you guide his head back to have full access. He will drop whatever he’s doing and pull you into the bedroom

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn’t mind getting a bit rough, but he won’t slap/hit you, spit on you, or choke you. If he wraps his hand around your neck, he’s very careful not to press against your throat. If you're into that, it's something you will have to talk about

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Steb’s tongue game is unmatched. It’s much longer than humans, very strong, and it doesn’t tire easily. He will make you cum relentlessly with his mouth alone, only occasionally using his hand. He eats you out enthusiastically, moaning while he licks and sucks you all over. And most of all, he will feast on your juices and won’t leave a single drop. He just loves the taste of you

He likes receiving too. He will guide your movements ever so gently and will be extra careful not to thrust into your mouth without warning. His favourite thing is pulling all the way out, and then watch as his sizeable length disappears all the way back into your throat

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Steb doesn’t fuck, he makes love, unless you ask him to be rough. Sensual tender lovemaking all around, slow and deep while maintaining eye contact. He wants you to feel every single one of his ridges inside you

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t mind it, but they’re not his go to. He’d rather take his time with you to show you the depth of his adoration. You usually indulge in quickies if the two of you have busy schedules

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s a very curious guy, always eager to learn, and so he wants to try every position in the book. He loves the idea of exploring his sexuality with you and experimenting. It’s the same when it comes to kinks. If you wish to try something new, he’s down. If it’s something a little extreme, he will have his reservations, but he will try, for you

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

He can last very long, and you usually come multiple times before he does. However, once he has orgasmed, you will have to be patient

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own any, but if you have a collection of your own, he’s very curious about it and will ask you how everything works and what it is used for. He will gladly implement them in your sex life

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn’t really understand the concept of teasing, maybe it’s a species-related thing, but to him, it feels like he’s denying you, hurting you, and he doesn’t like that. Recently, you’ve tried to teach him that denial can be very pleasurable by teasing him during foreplay, and he is starting to understand how that works. It’s a slow process

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Steb doesn’t speak, but he will moan. A lot. He will start grunting when he’s close and his face gills will move as well. If you tease him, it won’t take long for him to whine inside a pillow or into his hand, truly a delightful sound

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sex in front of a mirror, yes please. Again, if he gets to watch you from a different angle, he’s down. Your bodies are very different, but seeing the way they mould so beautifully together, the way your body responds to his and vice-versa, that’s sacred to him 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It’s hidden in a genital pouch, and frees itself naturally when there’s sex in the air. Not exceedingly thick, but quite long. Multiple ridges which are ideally placed, and fins that are here for your pleasure, and your pleasure only

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

About average, he can go a long time without having sex, it doesn’t bother him. But if you tempt him, tease him, or start nuzzling and kissing down his neck, he will become very needy 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s always the last one to go to sleep because he is on aftercare duty. He just has to make sure you’re okay before doing anything else. He will stroke your head and run his fingers along your skin until you fall asleep. Sometimes, he will even hum a little tune

[mathitas]

The seven (and Nico and Will) take care of you when you're sick

HOO seven plus Nico and Will x Gn!Reader

Percy

When Percy realised you were sick, he got even more protective over you. He wouldn’t let you go fight or exercise and tried to keep you in your cabin most of the time, even dealing with Mr. D’s lectures.

You couldn’t even fight back when you saw his efforts in making you feel better.

He tried making you comforting (blue) food, and he always told you how his mother always used to make it when he was a young kid.

He’d be so annoying, to be fair, but he would also pamper you a lot, getting you everything you’d ask for, except letting you do anything that would tire you out. You were sick! Let him do it instead! You need to rest!

“Let me get up,” you whined as you struggled to get Percy off of you, “no! No training for today, doctor’s orders,” he hugged you tighter, trying to keep you still. You just struggled more, until you eventually gave up. “You’re not even a doctor” you sighed and he just gave you a cheeky grin, “but I’m your boyfriend.”

Annabeth Chase

She’d stay in bed with you, reading a book, even reading it to you, if you asked so. You just loved hearing your firm girlfriend’s voice when you were sick. She’d gently explain everything her book said to you since it was about complex architecture, if you didn’t understand the chapter well.

She’d also request for you not to do much for the day and scold you if you decide to train anyway. She’d ask you to at least let her help you if she really can’t stop you.

She’d hold you and probably make fun of the way you sound and sleep when you’re sick, just to be mean to you and watch you smile and get mad at her comments.

“Did you actually fall asleep?” she asked, as she finished reading a chapter she got particularly passionate about. She sighed as she got no answer before a smile took over her face. “You look like a duck, a very sick one” she chuckled to herself before closing her book and planting a soft kiss on your forehead before drifting off to some rest as well.

Jason

He would try to keep calm and stay collected, but he’s actually worried as hell. When he saw you all sick and weak, he couldn’t help but think you were dying or something. So he would try to stay close to you, and get information about how you were feeling quietly.

Once you told him you’d get better soon, he calmed down a bit, but he was still worried. You could see how he always kept an eye on you and stopped you from doing anything, just telling you he’d “do it for you”.

He would genuinely do anything you asked him to, and when you started to get better, you might have heard him sigh from relief.

“Your face is hotter than usual,” he says, his sight switching from the wall to your face quickly as he adjusted his glasses nervously. “Yeah, I’m sick,” you answered, and he visibly tensed up. You could see him slowly scooting over to you, placing your head on his shoulder. “I’ll be fine a few days.” He just nodded. “Is that so? I’m glad? Oh, stop. I’ll get it for you.” He put an arm over you and you tried to grab the termometer, and got up to get it himself

Leo

Leo would whine a lot about how you weren’t able to cuddle with him properly, or train with him, or spend time with him. Not that’s gonna stop it. If you told him you’d didn’t want him to get close to you so he wouldn’t get sick too, let me tell you… this boy DID NOT care!!!

He wants to hold you and make you feel better. Hell! He INVENTED a special dish to make you feel better, which is inspired by his mother’s special recipe.

He’d make you watch your favorite shows with him, holding you in your cabin, as he completely ignored Mr D’s scoldings (he asked for Nico’s help to get rid of him. Good thing Nico was his friend, kind of).

If you complained about him being too hot, he would loosen his hold on you (reluctantly) and probably feel a bit bad about it. But what do you want him to do? You’re all sick and cute like this;let him cuddle you!

“Hey, what do you wanna watch?” he asks as he puts the covers over you. You mumbled against his shoulder and he chuckled, “Yeah, I understood that.” He teased you as he held you a bit closer to him. “Can you make me some more?” you asked softly, pointing to the empty bowl. He looked at you happily before nodding, “thank you, Leo”. He kissed your hand as he got up and said, “No need to thank me, amor.".

Frank

Frank would definitely panic at first, getting nervous about how to treat you, especially the first times it happened. He didn’t know what to do since he was shyer early in your relationship.

However, that didn’t stop his protective side from showing.

He would probably be surprised by how frail you looked, and felt an urge to protect you like he never did before. You were a pretty impressive demigod after all, and now you looked so weak and in need of care. Of course he was gonna give it to you.

You appreciated it even more, knowing how shy he would be normally, and took all the love happily.

“Here, I got you something. It’s gonna make you feel better” he says as he handles you some medicine. “Thanks, Frank,” you said and you noticed how he didn’t walk out your room. He looked down and his face was red. He didn’t want to leave. You got up and hugged him, and he hugged you back softly. “Stay here,” you asked, and he nodded, “of course.”

Piper

Piper would be extra sweet to you, bringing you treats and offering to spend the whole day with you, to take care of you. She would accept whatever decision you make, secretly hoping you’d choose her company.

She’d ask you to do something with her, to spend time, and find some excuse to take care of you. She’d also ask if you’re just up to resting, if you said yes, she’d hold you softly as you rest against her. She wouldn’t dare to move.

In a modern AU, just know she'a gonna take a lot of pictures just because she thinks you look cute like this.

She’d probably consume some media as your eyes are closed, or read something, and she feels the happiest she’s been in a while, after everything she went through, to have you just relying on her on your sick days.

“You’re really cute, you know that?” he said softly, as you mumbled in your sleep at the sound of her voice. She chuckled as she tried to keep as still as possible. Her quiet laugh filled the room, other than your soft (or loud) snoring. She sighed happily, and gave you soft scratches, putting you into a deeper sleep.

Hazel

She would spend all of your sick days trying to find an healing spell that wasn’t too rough for your simple cold. Or whatever it was.

However, she’d do everything you ask her to do. Like, if you pleaded her to stop searching for a cure, and just spend some proper time with you, she would leave everything she was doing just to make you happy. Even tho she’d still try to find something when you’re asleep or closing your eyes.

She’d also be kind of shy at first, and wouldn’t make the first move to cuddle you if you didn’t ask first, but she was very happy when you did and she couldn’t help from enjoying herself when she got to hold you close.

She also saw you as someone she wanted to protect in that moment, and now she had you all to herself.

“Hazel, come here.” You whined as she repeated some spells silently. “Wait, I think I found the one.” You just sighed and she stopped reading out loud. “What is it?” she asked quietly.“Just spend time with me, please?” you asked, and she smiled shyly. “Alright, I’m coming.” In a few minutes you were in her arms, and in a few minutes you were out. You wondered how you were feeling so much better after a few hours’s sleep, but you quickly got your answer,

Nico

He would try to act like it was not a big deal (and it probably wasn’t) but he also wouldn’t leave your side. No way he would, genuinely. You’re stuck with him. And you couldn’t feel luckier. THE Nico Di Angelo cared about being with you through your illness, your sweet sweet (and kinda emo) boyfriend.

He would be way sweeter than usual, he’s usually pretty sweet, but he would get not only protective, but even sweeter than normal.

He’d stop you from getting out of your bed, and force to move to his cabin, because it was a “more sterilised place” than your room and you would feel better easier.

You complied, because he was right. And he cuddled you when you asked him to, even tho he tried to hide how happy he was about it.

“Hey, what if you get sick because of this?” you ask as you snuggle against his chest, “then it’d be your turn to take care of me,” you chuckle weekly, as you let out a few coughs. “You’d be insufferable,” you complain jokingly. “I always am.”

Will

Will would honestly be the best AND worst option for this. He would make you feel better immediately and be the most annoying one about it too. Gods, he wouldn’t let you do anything. He’d keep saying everything he was asking you to do was “doctor’s orders”, and not only that, you genuinely had no other choice but to do it.

We all know how annoying Will gets otherwise. You just couldn’t deal with that. And he was very proud about it.

He’d take you to the infirmary until you feel better, and trust me, you’re going to get better fast. He’s putting all of his care on you and he’s not gonna stop until you’re 100% healed.

But, if he were the one to get sick instead, he probably wouldn’t let you do much for him. He’d never really say no to some pampering.

“Will, come on, I’m good already!” He shook his head as he stopped you from getting up, “your nose is still stuffy, no way.” “Ugh… Will, come on.” “Nuh-uh, doctor’s orders,” he insisted, before you complied again “doctor’s orders, my ass” you mumbled, “what did you say?” he asked, even tho he heard perfectly, and you just rolled your eyes and said, “nothing, nothing.” He just laughed at you, and gave you a soft kiss on your cheek.