#The Ultimate Smart Bed

[varunnehra]

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[ambersgiantpanda]

Exorcist: I'm here to remove the demon that has possessed you. Eddie: I didn't call you. Osirian: I did.

[fappeningpro]

Smart Ultimate Bed All in One Bed

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[darby-rowe]

ᯓ today, I feel like pleasing you.

KINKTOBER 1ST. DAD'S BEST FRIEND!LOGAN HOWLETT X BUB!READER.

18+ | nsfw | mdni wc. 1.2k+ cw/tags. FAUXCEST, age gap (r is 21+), brief cunnilingus & blowjob, first time, p in v, usage of the phrase "little girl", unprotected sex, creampie, not proofread notes. happy kinktober 1st you freaks! here's the smutty installment in the dbf!logan x bub universe. sorry if you don't like it. title is taken from Today by Jefferson Airplane.

The first kiss was troublesome.

Locked away in the far corner of your queen-sized bed, his hands gently guiding itself up your leg, then it happened.

There was so much alcohol in his breath you swore you yourself must have gotten drunk off the way he breathed life into you. Yet the supposed life that found itself nesting in your lungs was something you’ve never felt before.

Taboo. Horribly, horribly wrong.

The kiss made your stomach feel queasy every time it entered your mind after the fact, however it made you feel like you were walking on air as well. Your dirty little secret, safely carried in the arms of you and Logan Howlett.

Your father would drop dead.

Things progressed after the kiss. He became more bold, touching you in more forbidden places that no man has ever touched before. It was all so new. Exciting. There was a rush that clouded your brain every time the older man gave you attention.

“Let your uncle take care of you,” he’d whisper to you.

Every single time.

Oh, it was dirty. So fucking dirty how the tone of his voice had you knowing he meant it. Your “uncle”. His “niece”. His pretty, young, smart, and bright niece who was so fucking ripe and ready to be eaten. The noises he made as his tongue swirled your already swollen clit, locking your fingers into his thick hair, wanting to grind against his hot tongue but ultimately being locked down by his strong arms.

Your hand slapped itself across your mouth each time you had to make a noise, desperately muffling the sounds of dirty dancing happening in your own bed. Your other hand kept jumping from fisting the sheets to fisting Logan’s hair to squeezing your own breast. In this state of being stimulated far beyond your own comprehension, you just didn’t know how to handle your body.

“Fuck,” you squeaked, feeling his nails unintentionally dig into your flesh, your thighs shaking as you grow closer and closer to making a mess of his beard.

It wasn’t planned, the sob that left your mouth when Logan pulled away just as you were about to see god.

“Why did you—”

“Legs up, bub,” Logan cut you off, making you gasp as he threw your legs back, completely spread open to him and any curious being who could walk in at any moment. You instinctually go to close your legs and cover your face, but he’s just so strong. So determined to watch as he takes you for the first time ever.

“Look at me, pretty girl,” he whispered, taking your hands off your face. You laid bare to him, like you had never laid bare to anyone before. Vulnerable and wet just for him.

The look on his face as he scanned you up and down in the position you were basically forced into will never leave your mind.

“Gonna make you feel good, ‘kay, bub?”

You just nodded, mind racing with how many possible roads this could go down. Everything felt like a blur as Logan unzipped his jeans, fishing out his rock-hard cock and began to stroke it in front of you. He was leaking at the tip, balls so full and swollen you could only imagine how long ago it was since he last jerked off.

He asked if you wanted a taste, and it took you a moment to consider. You’ve only ever fellated fake cocks in silicone form, and even so they were tiny in comparison to the monster hiding in Logan’s pants.

You nodded again, opening your mouth as he slipped in his cock inside past your lips. He fucking groaned upon first contact with your tongue, being careful to not shove his whole cock down your throat.

But you could tell that he really, really wanted to.

You felt your jaw begin to ache while keeping it open for his size. If you closed your eyes, you could concentrate on the subtle throb of his shaft, and the way your saliva accumulated around him. You were slicking him up just for you — to make the process easier.

He pulled out of your mouth right when you were beginning to memorize his taste, and it slightly disappointed you as you were enjoying your oral fixation being satiated. Your lips, parted slightly and drenched in your own spit, and Logan’s cock making its way to your swollen, soaked pussy.

He made sure to warn you just before sliding himself in. You couldn’t lie, it was a stretch, and it was an odd feeling to situate yourself in. You wanted to say that it hurt but that was untrue.

Just odd. Foreign. But not painful at all.

In fact, Logan was even surprised when you told him you were okay. Before you knew it, he was effortlessly sliding his dick in and out of you until it turned into him pounding into your pussy, arms wrapped around you as he held you close.

You had reason to believe this is when Logan fell apart.

You bit down hard on your bottom lip, keeping in all the lewd and pornographic noises that wanted to escape you, but some whimpers and small moans escaped.

“‘S good, bub?” Logan grunted in your ear, eliciting a shaky yes from you, digging your nails into his back and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your eyes screwed shut, concentrating on that familiar throb you felt in your mouth just moments ago.

If someone came up to you and asked you how it felt to get fucked like this, you wouldn’t know how to answer. It was just good. Fucking great, even. You wanted to sob, cry, wail out to Logan how good he was making you feel.

“Oh my little girl. My fucking little girl,”

He was like an animal in your ear: grunting and growling as he pounded you with little regard. He was getting louder, nastier. Treating you like a pocket pussy he had a forbidden affair with.

However, the way his arms locked around you as he buried his face in your neck made you feel a type of intimacy you had never felt before. Something so primal yet affectionate, making dirty noises in your ear as he fucked you. Taking your sweet virginity that he so desperately chased after for months.

“Tell me how good uncle Logan is fucking you,” he panted into your neck.

It was hard to form words. Your mouth opened and tiny choked sobs managed to crawl out of your throat, but no words.

“You gotta tell me, baby,” he panted again. But this time, there was a tinge of desperation edging his plea, like he could fucking tear up at any moment. Begging. “Tell me how good your uncle is fucking his little girl,”

Your virgin pussy throbbed, clenching around his cock.

“‘S good, uncle Logan. Fuck me. Fuck me, please…”

It took you by surprise how fast Logan emptied himself inside you, feeling his seed pump deep, knowing his balls were pulsating as they shot out cum. That knowledge was enough to make you cream around his dick, biting down on his shoulder to keep yourself quiet.

The moments after were uncomfortably quiet, with him still holding you with his cock softening inside you.

Your breath steadies. Your mind clears. And your body cools.

Your dad would murder Logan if he found out about this.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

An end to the climate emergency is in our grasp

On June 20, I'm keynoting the LOCUS AWARDS in OAKLAND.

The problem with good news in the real world is that it's messy. Neat happy endings are for novels, not the real world, and that goes double for the climate emergency. But even though good climate news is complicated and nuanced, that doesn't mean it shouldn't buoy our spirits and fill our hearts with hope.

The big climate news this past week is the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration's clarion call about surging CO2 levels – the highest ever – amid a year that is on track to have the largest and most extreme series of weather events in human history:

https://www.noaa.gov/news-release/during-year-of-extremes-carbon-dioxide-levels-surge-faster-than-ever

This is genuinely alarming and you – like me – have probably experienced it as a kind of increase in your background radiation of climate anxiety. Perhaps you – like me – even experienced some acute, sit-bolt-upright-in-bed-at-2AM anxiety as a result. That's totally justifiable. This is very real, very bad news.

And yet…

The news isn't all bad, and even this terrible dispatch from the NOAA is best understood in context, which Bill McKibben provides in his latest newsletter post, "What You Want is an S Curve":

https://billmckibben.substack.com/p/what-you-want-is-an-s-curve

Financier and their critics should all be familiar with Stein's Law: "anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop." This is true outside of finance as well. One of the reasons that we're seeing such autophagic panic from the tech companies is that their period of explosive growth is at an end.

For years, they told themselves that they were experiencing double-digit annual growth because they were "creating value" and "innovating" but the majority of their growth was just a side-effect of the growth of the internet itself. When hundreds of millions of people get online every year, the dominant online services will, on average, gain hundreds of millions of new users.

But when you run out of people who don't have internet access, your growth is going to slow. How can it not? Indeed, at that point, the only ways to grow are to either poach users from your rivals (through the very expensive tactics of massive advertising and sales-support investments, on top of discounts and freebies as switching enticements), or to squeeze your own users for more.

That's why the number of laptops sold in America slowed down. It's why the number of cellphones sold in America slowed down. It's why the number of "smart home" gizmos slowed down.

Even the steepest hockey-stick-shaped exponential growth curve eventually levels off and becomes an S-curve, because anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop.

One way or another, the world's carbon emissions will eventually level off. Even if we drive ourselves to (or over) the brink of extinction and set up the conditions for wildfires that release all the carbon stored in all the Earth's plants, the amount of carbon we pump into the atmosphere has to level off.

Rendering the Earth incapable of sustaining human civilization (or life) is the ultimate carbon reduction method – but it's not my first choice.

That's where McKibben's latest newsletter comes in. He cites a new report from the Rocky Mountain Institute, which shows a major reversal in our energy sources, a shift that will see our energy primarily provided by renewables, with minimal dependence on fossil fuels:

https://rmi.org/insight/the-cleantech-revolution/

The RMI team says that in this year or next, we'll have hit peak demand for fossil fuels (a fact that is consistent with NOAA's finding that we're emitting more CO2 than ever). The reason for this is that so much renewable energy is about to come online, and it is so goddamned cheap, that we are about to undergo a huge shift in our energy consumption patterns.

This past decade saw a 12-fold increase in solar capacity, a 180-fold increase in battery storage, and a 100-fold increase in EV sales. China is leading the world in a cleantech transition, with the EU in close second. Cleantech is surging in places where energy demand is also still growing, like India and Vietnam. Fossil fuel use has already peaked in Thailand, South Africa and every country in Latin America.

We're on the verge of solar constituting an absolute majority of all the world's energy generation. This year, batteries will overtake pumped hydro for energy storage. Every cleantech metric is growing the way that fossil fuels did in previous centuries: investment, patents, energy density, wind turbine rotor size. The price of solar is on track to halve (again) in the next decade.

In short, cleantech growth looks like the growth of other technologies that were once rarities and then became ubiquitous overnight: TV, cellphones, etc. That growth isn't merely being driven by the urgency of the climate emergency: it's primarily a factor of how fucking great cleantech is:

https://rmi.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/the_incredible_inefficiency_of_fossils.pdf

Fossil fuels suck. It's not just that they wreck the planet, or that their extraction is both politically and environmentally disastrous. They just aren't a good way to make energy. About a third of fossil fuel energy is wasted in production and transportation. A third! Another third is wasted turning fossil fuels into energy. Two thirds! The net energy efficiency of fossil fuels is about 37%.

Compare that with cleantech. EVs convert electricity to movement with 80-90% efficiency. Heat pumps are 300% efficient (the main fuel for your heat pump is the heat in the atmosphere, not the electricity it draws).

Cleantech is just getting started – it's still in the hockey-stick phase. That means those efficiency numbers are only going up. Rivian just figured out how to remove 1.6 miles of copper wire from each vehicle. That's just one rev – there's doubtless lots of room for more redesigns that will further dematerialize EVs:

https://insideevs.com/news/722265/rivian-r1s-r1t-wiring/

As McKibben points out, there's been a lot of justifiable concern that electrification will eventually use up all our available copper, but copper demand has remained flat even as electrification has soared – and this is why. We keep figuring out new ways to electrify with fewer materials:

https://www.chemanalyst.com/NewsAndDeals/NewsDetails/copper-wire-price-remains-stable-amidst-surplus-supply-and-expanding-mining-25416#:~:text=Global%20Copper%20wire%20Price%20Remains%20Stable%20Amidst%20Surplus%20Supply%20and%20Expanding%20Mining%20Activities

This is exactly what happened with previous iterations of tech. The material, energy and labor budgets of cars, buildings, furniture, etc all fell precipitously every time there was a new technique for manufacturing them. Renewables are at the start of that process. There's going to be a lot of this dematerialization in cleantech. Calculating the bill of materials for a planetary energy transition isn't a matter of multiplying the materials in current tech by the amount of new systems we'll need – as we create those new systems, we will constantly whittle down their materials.

What's more, global instability drives cleantech uptake. The Russian invasion of Ukraine caused a surge in European renewables. The story that energy prices are rising due to renewables (or carbon taxes) is a total lie. Fossil fuels are getting much more expensive, thanks to both war and rampant, illegal price-fixing:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/an-oil-price-fixing-conspiracy-caused

If not for renewables, the incredible energy shocks of the recent years would be far more severe.

The renewables story is very good and it should bring you some comfort. But as McKibben points out, it's still not enough – yet. The examples of rapid tech uptake had big business on their side. America's living rooms filled with TV because America's largest businesses pulled out all the stops to convince everyone to buy a TV. By contrast, today's largest businesses – banks, oil companies and car companies – are working around the clock to stop cleantech adoption.

We're on track to double our use of renewables before the decade is over. But to hold to the (already recklessly high) targets from the Paris Accord, we need to triple our renewables usage. As McKibben says, the difference between doubling and tripling our renewables by 2030 is the difference between "survivable trouble" and something much scarier.

The US is experiencing a welcome surge in utility scale solar, but residential solar is stalling out as governments withdraw subsidies or even begin policies that actively restrict rooftop solar:

https://twitter.com/curious_founder/status/1798049929082097842?s=51

McKibben says the difference between where we are now and bringing back the push for home solar generation is the difference between "fast" and "faster" – that is the difference between tripling renewables by 2030 (survivable) and doubling (eek).

Capitalism stans who argue that we can survive the climate emergency with market tools will point to the good news on renewable and say that the market is the only way to transition to renewables. It's true that market forces are partly responsible for this fast transition. But the market is also the barrier to a faster (and thus survivable) transition. The oil companies, the banks who are so invested in fossil fuels, the petrostates who distort the world's politics – they're why we're not much farther along.

The climate emergency was never going to be neatly solved. We weren't going to get a neat novelistic climax that saw our problems sorted out in a single fell swoop. We're going to be fighting all the way to net zero, and after that, we'll still have decades of climate debt to pay down: fires, floods, habitat loss, zoonotic plagues, refugee crises.

But we should take our wins. Even if we're far from where we need to be on renewables, we're much farther along on renewables than we had any business hoping for, just a few years ago. The momentum is on our side. It's up to us to use that momentum and grow it. We're riding the hockey-stick, they're on that long, flat, static top of the S-curve. Their curve is leveling off and will start falling, ours will grow like crazy for the rest of our lives.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/12/s-curve/#anything-that-cant-go-on-forever-eventually-stops

[blckbrrybasket]

31. “Body Electric”

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington

꒰Cucking + Breeding Kink꒱ - 1.9k

• unprotected sex, cuck!eddie, teasing, consent checking/color system, cream pie, somewhat feral Steve?

kinktober m.list

If someone had told Eddie a year ago that Steve Harrington was fucking his girlfriend in front of him with his consent, he would have laughed in their fucking face. Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington with his girl? No way. And now, well they weren’t exactly friends.

The two were never super close, but they trusted each other. There was no way around trusting each other after being forced together in a group to save the world, or whatever. A year later and they still had somewhat limited contact. Having so many mutual friends now left them seeing each other more and more.

Apparently the trust went deeper than Eddie was consciously aware, because when thinking of a guy to sleep with you for Eddie to watch, you both ultimately landed on Steve. The two of you were always up for trying new things, so when Eddie proposed him being cucked you didn’t shoot down the idea.

You were intrigued to say the least and you were both aware of how Steve looked at you. He was no homewrecker, always keeping a safe distance, but when Eddie called him to ask if he wanted to sleep with you? At first he laughed awkwardly, thinking it was a cruel joke, but when that notion was cleared he had immediately said yes.

You were smart, hot, and he got to fuck you in front of Eddie, a perfect deal. Steve had no qualms with Eddie, but he did love the idea of cucking him. Of course Eddie set ground rules, the biggest one being not doing anything you wouldn’t like. The second? That Eddie is in charge even when he wasn’t the one fucking you.

Steve groaned at it, but agreed when Eddie threatened to find somebody else. Truthfully, there was no one else he could think of, but it didn’t hurt to make Steve sweat a bit. Day of, you restlessly sat on the bed while Eddie welcomed Steve into his trailer. Your legs dangled off the side of the mattress, feet dragging over the worn carpet to settle your nerves.

A creak came from the ground and you perked up, head lifting to see Eddie with Steve standing behind him. Your eyes bounced between them, Eddie being the first to walk over to you. “You’re sure you want this, right?” You murmured an “uh huh”, chin in between Eddie’s ringed fingers when he leaned down to kiss your lips. 

Instantly any doubt melted away, soothed by his chapped lips. “Okay. Anytime you want to back out,” he whispered against your lips. “I say red,” you finished, giggling against his lips as you repeated what he had said multiple times. Eddie pulled back, cupping your cheek to shake your head from side to side.

“Don’t be a brat when I’m about to let Stevie fuck you.” The reaction to the name was instantaneous, both you and Steve groaning at it. Eddie chuckled, pecking your lips quickly before backing up to sit on a chair he had set near the corner of his room. Steve took his cue, entering the small room. “Eager?” He smirked at Eddie already being prepared, getting flipped off in response.

However, Steve was not easily deterred, making his way to stand between your legs. “This okay?” He made sure on top of Eddie's earlier worries. You rolled your eyes at him, “Kiss me already.” Steve chuckled. “Bossy? We’ll fix that.” And god, you didn’t know how true that statement would be. You always assumed Steve only had one mode which was gentle loverboy. 

The first half was very tender. It was a clear change of pace from how you and Eddie usually ripped each other's clothes off of each other. Steve liked to build up suspense, treating you like you were made of glass. He had slipped each piece of clothing off until you were watching with rapt attention as he finally took his own clothes off.

You sighed, hands hovering before you touched his chest. “I didn’t expect you to be so hairy,” you laughed, fingers brushing over the hair on his chest. Steve couldn’t help but be proud, unable to see Eddie’s pouty expression but he could guess it was present. Steve’s hands found your arms, guiding you to lean back as he climbed between your legs. 

He purposefully laid you upside down on the bed so he could give Eddie a closer view at your face when he fucked you. “Are you ready?” Steve asked. Your head naturally tilted back to look at Eddie, making Steve tut. “Ah, ah, not him. I asked you.” Steve’s thumb and index finger pinched your chin and turned your head to look at him. “Yes.”

He grinned, hands sliding down to grab your thighs, lifting them to press to your chest. Steve slid his arm to the backs of your knees, keeping them up. His other hand traced over your mound to slide down between your folds. “So wet already,” he mused. “Is she always this wet, Eddie?” Eddie scoffed, listening to the slick sounds as Steve played with you. 

“Yeah, she is.” Eddie tongued at the inside of his bottom lip, blood flowing to his hardening dick. This wasn’t about him though. While you were too preoccupied with Steve thrusting two fingers into your pretty pussy, he would know if he jerked off. This was about you. Eddie wouldn’t receive any pleasure and yes that’s what he wanted, but it didn’t make his hands loosen from their fists. He must have been whisked away in his thoughts, interrupted by Steve’s voice.

“I think she’s loose enough,” Steve commented, looking down at you. “You think you’re ready to take me, honey?” You nodded, cunt drooling over Steve’s sticky fingers as he pulled them from you. “Words, sweetheart.” “Yeah, yes, please, Steve.” He smirked, grabbing his painfully hard cock, letting your legs settle back to a more natural position. Your eyes followed the movement of his hand, swallowing when you saw the girth of his length. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

You looked up at Steve, relaxing back at his words; Eddie relaxing the moment he saw you sink into his bed. His dark eyes were trained on the two of you, watching Steve press into you. Eddie’s heart thumped precariously as he waited to see your reaction. Your face was scrunched up, but you were still breathing steadily, taking it perfectly.

Steve pressed his hand to the side of your head, breathing in deeply. “Knew you could do it.” Your eyes fluttered open, staring up at his pleased expression. He was everywhere, at least you felt like he was. The burn of the stretch began to taper off, faster now that his thumb was playing with your clit. He felt your ridged walls contract and he chuckled. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed in a breathy voice, eyes sliding shut again as you tilted your head back. Slow and soft is once again how it started off. Deep thrusts brushed against all the spots your fingers couldn’t reach. You were so deep into the pleasure you could barely register when his thrusts began picking up.

It wasn’t until you heard Eddie’s groan, opening your eyes to look at him, did you notice how your view was unsteady, shaken by each pound. Steve drove back into you repeatedly, unashamed moans spilling from his lips. You hiccuped, chest rising before falling when you cried out. “Shit, Steve,” you groaned, head turning back to him.

His perfect hair was a mess, loose strands curling on his forehead and bouncing with his movements. Steve flicked his eyes up to watch your face, irises eclipsed by lustful pupils. “Yeah?” He grunted. “So beautiful. You’re so…beautiful.” He blew out the air from his lungs, leaning against your body now.

Ducking his head, he wrapped his lips around one of your soft nipples, sucking on it. It was enough for him to whine, tongue laving over it as he raised and lowered his head as if he was trying to manually make it harden. Steve’s teeth grazed the sensitive spot, eyes glancing up at you as you gave a strangled moan.

He smirked around your tit, popping off to bend over you. Steve’s chest pressed to yours, bodies tangled together while your guts tightened together, his spit on your chest smearing onto his chest hair. “Steve, Steve, oh…Eddie!” Even without Eddie being the one to fuck you, you couldn’t help but moan your boyfriends name. Steve’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly, glancing at Eddie who looked ready to leap out of his chair. 

He shot Eddie a look as if to say ‘stay seated.’ and some other unmentioned choice words. Steve bit the inside of his cheek, looking back down at you as he grew close to finishing. Eddie caught on to what he was planning, glaring immediately. 

“Steve,” Eddie grumbled the warning, hand retightening into a fist on the top of his thigh. Steve grinned salaciously, “I know, I know.” he responded to your mewls, choosing to ignore Eddie. “He’s being mean right?” Steve knew what he was doing, eyes glinting as he stared eddie down, mouth lowered by your ear. You didn’t know why Eddie was being mean, or about what, but it sounded right in your blissed out state.

“You want it, want my cum…but what Eddie says goes, honey.” The seed was planted, making you realize what Eddie didn’t want. “Eddie please,” you begged him to let Steve cum inside you, needing it. Eddie clenched his jaw, teeth straining under the force. “Babe..” he started, but you were too far gone to realize that you were being bratty. “Please, please, please,” you cried, tears collecting on your waterline. You were so close, unable to cum without confirmation.

“You should give her what she wants.” Steve hummed, bouncing your ass off his hips as he continued thrusting within you, teetering on the edge. It was a dangerous game, though, it was one that paid off. “Go ahead,” Eddie conceded. Steve’s lips curled up into a more sinister smile when he received permission.

Steve pressed his sweaty cheek to yours, skin sticking together. “Want me to fill you up? Pump you full of my cum, of my babies? Fuck you so full…let you swell with ‘em.” Eddie’s eyes widened as you deliriously nodded, sob ripping through you as you clenched around Steve’s cock.

Even Steve seemed surprised by the outburst reaction. “Oh, you want that? Want to be full of my babies, fucking nasty.” he laughed, hips stuttering as he tapered off into a groan. His balls tightened, slapping once more against you before he stilled for a second. “Yes, yeah, take my cum, honey. Make it take.” Steve’s hot spurts of cum filled you up as you shook at the feeling.

Eddie licked his teeth with a laser focus on you as you seemed to fight to cum. Steve’s fingers found your clit, pinching it to send you spiraling. White hot stars bloomed beneath your eyelids as you came, back arching against Steve. Steve chuckled breathlessly, looking back at Eddie.

His hips resumed, grinding forward to push his cum deeper into your cunt. Eddie’s unamused expression came back as he spoke up, “That’s enough.” Steve pants, nodding compliantly as he slowly came back down to earth. His palms rubbed at your hips, hissing as he pulled out, his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy.

You tensed at the feeling, his cum seeping out onto Eddie's comforter. You didn’t want to let go of the feeling, cunt feeling so warm and gooey. “Jesus Christ,” Eddie mused, looking at your spent body, getting up.

Steve was already checking on you, hand smoothing over your head. “Are you okay, honey?” In a daze, you give a dopey smile and laugh. “So good.”

tags: @babybatlover, @starrgurl46, @wowzers-07, @nenukkjhj, @morgan0lw21, @kinokomoonshine, @slut4ddn, @adventures-of-impala, @dreamerjj

[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ── ☆ ⁺彡 nct dream as spiderman !

if you saw it the first time, no you didn't! 🫵😭 reposting this again to add something i missed in the first one. happy reading!! library.

ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ mark: ultimate spiderman. broken specs and lame excuses. eating a sandwich against a skyscraper. homemade suit. attracting things with his webs (esp. you). quick reflex. stuttering. with great power comes great responsibility. yapping his adventures. “i can do this all day” energy. stacks of books and scrapped formulas for new types of web fluid. atlas carrying the weight of the world. falling in love with your best friend. stay up late saving the world... or the semester. confession on the roof of a building at sunset.

you're deposited at the top of a skyscraper with your heart beating a thousand times an hour thanks to the adrenaline sedating your senses. you feel dizzy... and alive as you catch your breath, bathing in the evening light where a masked man stands in front of you. he helps you regain your balance as you hear him laugh, his voice blown by the same wind that ruffles your hair. “yn.”

you're unable to react when your senses are drunk with the rush of joy, which is hard for you to catch the hesitation in his voice. “yes?”

you see him take off his mask and your breath freezes in your throat the moment he appears in front of you. mark, your lab partner. sunset bathes his face with a golden halo outlining his features and the light finds its way to his eyes, holding a plead.

“you know… it's okay if you like only spiderman.” he chuckles awkwardly and brushes his neck, “well, actually, spiderman is me, uh… but… i couldn't just let you kiss me if you didn't know it was me, in case it bothers you, i hope not. i hope you don't think i'm a creep or that i forcibly kissed you… actually, you kissed me..., well maybe it was bad that i kept going after you did, but i like you so maybe i did take advantage of the situation a little...—”

the last thing you notice is his eyes opening almost as soon as it takes for your feet to snap out of place and launch you towards him. his arms are waiting to hold you almost immediately and while you might be surprised by his quick reflexes, you can hardly think properly when you join your lips with his.

mark looks at you in awe before a smile rises on his lips as you smile. “spiderman, i'm so sorry, but i like someone.”

gloom tints his eyes, “do you?”

you hum, and even though you're kinda rejecting him, he lets you wrap your arms tighter around his neck. “his name is mark lee. and he's my lab partner before he's new york's friendly neighbor.”

ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ haechan: spiderman by accident. anti-hero. wired headphones. a random stop at a gas station for snacks. bruises and cuts. original anomaly. boyish teasing. upside down kiss. across the spiderverse suit. street smart. smugly comments. sneaking out after being grounded. “he looks worse than me.” grimaces when you cure a ugly looking wound. piles of love letters from admirers. quiet confession while you cure his wounds. strawberry lollipop. enemies to lovers. stay up for a late night swinging around the city with you.

the knocks on your window, though light (as if the person was instantly regretting it) were enough wake you up as you rushed out to open it.

on the other side awaited you an elusive shadow that remained static until you took his hand and ushered him into your room, and the night light finally caught his shattered suit.

“i had nowhere else to go, did i wake you?” his voice is soft and hoarse, and you really give him points for downplaying it when he repress flinchling when you touch the purple scrape on his chin. “it's not that bad.”

you make him sit up in bed and find it funny how he tries to do it because he starts stirring as if he's afraid of ruining the sheets. “i'll treat them.”

“don't bother.” he makes a pretense of continuing to talk until he notices the severity on your face and your decision to do so, and more importantly, notice how your eyes run all over his body taking into account all the cuts that show the destroyed suit on his skin. “he looks worse than me.”

you frown y and avoid looking so affected, keeping yourself busy looking for the gauze and alcohol, and then sitting next to him to begin healing the cuts on his chest. you work slowly and carefully, he doesn't say anything until you finish.

his hands grasp yours when you falter as they brush against his neck. “i'd like to keep it on.”

“is it because you don't trust me?”

“it's because i'm scared you won't like me once you find out who i am.” his voice comes to you so soft and low.

you seek his eyes, you make him see. your feelings, your emotions; you take his hand and guide it to your heart. “i'll never stop liking you, lee donghyuck.”

ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ jaemin: the sidekick who got superpowers. quiet extrovert's best friend. admiring the view of the setting sun. saving a kitten from a tree. visit at a nursing home. bingo in the afternoons. villains are friendly with him. classic suit. backward cap. funny clapbacks. “oh, it's just a scratch.” (frozen steak in black eye). subway ride home. eepy cats on a windowsill watching the falling snow. love at first sight. romantic telerage signal on the brooklyn bridge.

you had noticed that jaemin was acting strangely lately, but you couldn't imagine what you were about to discover when the screen of your phone showed his name. with a sigh, you answered, bracing yourself for another conversation full of excuses and evasions.

you kept moving down the crowded catwalk self-absorbed and a little troubled. "jaemin, we need to talk about—”

“yn, please, can you look to your right?” he interrupts with his voice full of nervousness and excitement.

confused but intrigued, you sigh and look to your side as your gaze took over the sunset of the city and the brooklyn bridge, taking up all the space, and just at that moment you notice that you were walking in a sea of static people, looking in amazement at a giant message formed by cobwebs that said: "i love you.”

the phone line remain silent until his calm voice fill your ears. “do you like it?”

your mouth feels dry and you can't string something coherent. between surprise and charm, you can barely articulate words. “are you friends with spiderman?!”

“what- no! better.”

better. does that mean… “are you his sidekick?!” that would explain why he has been absent from your date. that'd explain it all.

he laughs, and you sense a bit of struggle in his voice. “look left now.”

at that precise moment, a figure descends from the sky and with a jerk his arm wraps around your waist and your feet stop touching the ground. with a fluid movement, he pulls you both away from the cheering hustle and bustle and you squeeze more against him, watching the world blur and your whole body hum.

your eyes close and you let yourself be fully carried away by him, melted into the warm sensation that embraces you, until your feet touch the ground again. your mind feels light and your senses are put on alert when you look down and see how far the two of you are from the actual ground, holding him with hurry. “i got you.”

you look at him overcome by emotion and surprise and your eyes take note of jaemin's gentle features when he removes the mask. “i will always got you, baby.”

ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ jisung: wrong place at the wrong time. friendly neighbor doing errands for elderly people. clumsy swaying between buildings. awkward execution but good results. inner dialogues. thinking out loud. “from your friendly neighbor, spider-man”. shy giggles. stolen kisses. drinking soda on top of a moving subway. being late to class. stark enterprise's intern. iron spider suit. meet up cute. confession by accident 'cause he mentions something you said to jisung, not spiderman.

he might find cute that you're so clueless if it weren't for the small problem of you being always in trouble because of that. in addition to it, it's not that he was an expert and a good performer; he was generally clueless as well. although he sometimes wishes not being like that in front of you.

you've crouched in a corner while he awkwardly fighted a couple of thugs, and when he's done he's spent half his ration of cobwebs, knocked over a dumpster, and maybe bursted one or two ribs.

he laughs, he doesn't know why. maybe because he wants to soften your eyes opened in alert as you hug your bag tightly. some belongings have fallen to the ground thanks to the forcing, and jisung picks them up as he makes his way to you. “are you okay, ma'am?” the unopened box of pasty colors lies wet when he picks it up. “ew…” and the wet mixture makes a horrific paste on his fingers.

“no! my crayons.” his gaze shoots up at you as you emerge from your stupor, just as you see that your journey to the tool store had been in vain.

jisung helps you pick up what can be saved, until your eyes stay glued to the ground, looking for something as he remembers what.

“your notebook.” it was the first thing he caught with his webs before it fell to the wet floor of the alley, because he knows how important it is for you.

a pair of cobwebs hold it in place on the wall when he peels it off. “thanks!” you smile and he thanks the mask for hiding he does it too.

“thank you, spiderman. and i'm sorry, i know it's dangerous going out so late… i just needed to buy more paint.”

“right, your art project.”

he doesn't even realize what a gaffe he's made in time. it's not when he takes his eyes off your notebook and watches you look at him with a mixture of surprise and suspicion. “eh… well, i assume it is, cause why would i know. not that i know … okay! i hope you arrive safe at home, i gotta go,” he says the words too fast and trips over the container on his way out.

“i see you in class tomorrow.”

“okay!— i mean, no, no. i don't even go to brooklyn visions.” he incriminates himself more and more as he speaks. “totally don't see me there, cause i don't even go to school.” jesus christ, he really wish he could shut up once and for all.

ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ jeno: intern at oscorp co. bitten by an upgraded spider because he's a little clumsy. social butterfly. lowkey popular at school. non-prescription glasses. nyu hoodie. crush on the quiet girl from his math class. “one last call”. hybrid suit. stolen kisses. last man standing. lost backpacks. wants to redeem the villains. she fell first but he fell harder. being snatched away for him. accidental confession because you joked that he was spiderman.

it was known that after a few catches at fast-paced people would begin to suspect. jeno had to seriously get his spider senses in order and stop acting before he could think, but it was almost impossible for him to do so when it came to you.

it was the fourth time he'd caught something before it fell to the ground that day, and even if you apologized for being so clumsy, jeno was frustrated because he couldn't not do so; suddenly, he wanted to protect you from everything.

he likes it, and maybe it had to do with him liking you.

god, he wasn't very good with words, and he might be a little silly because he can't show it with actions either. and he spends all day looking for a way to get you to agree to go out with him and he may also spend his time imagining scenarios where you don't like him back, and it scares him.

and that's why he doesn't have time to register that he needs to be careful when the enriched senses strike because you're always in his head, and because of that he just catches a beaker of precipitation inches off the ground, again.

“wow,” you say and something tingles inside, like it was trying to warn him. “you're spiderman, aren't you?”

perhaps it was telling him to keep his big mouth shut.

jeno looks at you dumbfounded and suddenly he can't spin a coherent thought while you stare at him with those eyes ‘cause then he can think properly. “how d'you know?”

he wants to hit himself right there when you suppress a smile because it is at that moment that the possibility arises that perhaps you didn't know and that maybe (not sure yet) it was a joke.

actually… he could downplay it and flip it if it weren't for the fact that a light bulb finally light up above his head, because maybe he could... take advantage of spiderman's charms for the first time. “i am spiderman.”

but then he says it so weird that you start laughing and he thinks you think he's joking, “dead serious.” his eyes follow you chuckling a lot and he can't help but smile too, until you stop all of a sudden.

maybe you didn't know... fuck, he's screwed up very bad this time.

ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ chenle: rich boy experimenting in his father's laboratory. vigilante. sassy retorts. unpremeditated actions. advance suit 2.0. savior of the girl in distress. knocks on your window at midnight. finger guns. “that's the best you can do?”. childhood friends to lovers. vengeful. misunderstood. traitor trope. the sound of a thunderstorm. whispers at 3 am. random hugs. mean to everyone but you. no confession needed when you know your bestfriend fully.

the buildings pass on either side of you like a gray blur as you swing like a bullet through the air, your hair dances in the warm breeze and makes it harder for you to see clearly the one who holds you tightly and safe as he takes you somewhere protected from danger.

there's fear sitting in your chest that begins to fade as his swaying lulls you and you close your eyes letting yourself go until your feet touch solid ground.

“are you okay?” you hear his voice muffled by the mask, “are you hurt?” he says again, now with a tinge of alertness in his voice when your grip don't let go.

and he allows you. he doesn't let you go, and you don't want him either. and as the adrenaline goes down and dissolves in your system, your other senses resurface and even though your fear comes back something triggers in your mind. something... familiar.

you separate yourself from him with thousands of sensations crossing your features as you study the mask. your eyes drenched in something akin to shock and revelation as your hand reaches out the hem. “don't.”

his hands grab yours to keep you from lifting it up. “chenle,” you pronounce with a heartbeat, and his grip loosens.

his face is revealed underneath the cloth and you hold your breath as his closed eyes slowly begin to open. “how did you know it was me?”

“you're my best friend.”

ㅤ 𓂂 ☆ renjun: a radioactive spider missing at a science convention. spidey senses. overly intuitive. scrapped prototypes. city at dusk. gliding in the sky. leap of fate. upgraded suit. late summer nights. string lights. origami stars. sign language. sidewalk chalk drawings. not a quitter. “i am nothing without the suit”. skateboard tracks. volumes and mixtapes. scrapped knees. humming a lost song. self-sacrifice. exes to lovers. he removes his mask without knowing you're sitting on his bed.

he had mastered and perfected his technique of not making noise when entering his room. he knew the gears on the front door would make noise, so he opted for the window. the fire escape led him to the tenth floor where he slipped into the room by climbing up the ceiling.

he almost screams victory, taking off his mask, before his enriched senses tell him something isn't right, almost at the same fraction of a second when you drops with a pronounced daze the lego sculpture and it shatters on the floor. “you're spiderman.” more of a rectification than a question as if you couldn't believe it. “oh, my god. you're spiderman.”

he comes to you and hushes you. “yn! what are you doing in my room!?” your mouth opens in amazement before your features are bathed in disbelief.

“you told me to come!” he puts a hand in your mouth and the unexpected approach makes you hesitate.

“alright, alright…” he says in a whisper. “be quiet, yeah?” he asks, looking into your eyes. “don't freak out.” you nod, “seriously, i can tell you'll scream the moment i remove my hand, so promise me.” he removes his hand and awaits for your reaction.

you're puzzled, “you're spiderman…,” you breathe and he grins smugly before you hit him not so lightly.

renjun puts a hand to his mouth after letting out a sound more outraged than painful. “you're spiderman and you didn't think to tell me?”

“well… i was thinking of telling you…”

“i kissed you!? spiderman and renjun!” you say, almost stupefied. “didn't you think to tell me you were the same person? i was planning on rejecting you!” when you're done, you're just left breathing artificially, and you look at him in disbelief when he doesn't say anything.

his mouth opens slowly when he sees you waiting for something. “i was afraid you'd say that.”

you frown and stay there confused by his words.

“you're telling me that you lied to me because you were afraid? afraid of what?”

“i was afraid you'd pick him.”

“renjun, what are you talking about?” you sigh, exhausted of lies.

“of spiderman. i'm nothing without the suit. no one paid attention to me when i was a nobody.”

“i did!”

[tatterings]

Halstarion headcanon of Halsin's love

Obviously, NSFW under the cut... but my headcanons of Halsin's intimacy style with his vampire love. <3 full disclosure i have not proofread this lol

Warning - minor mention of Astarion's trauma

(EDIT: If you like this content you'll definitely like what will be in future chapters of my current Halstarion fic!)

Halsin is the ultimate soft tender dom. Checking in for Astarion’s consent with a head nod or a raised eyebrow. Any tenseness he feels in Astarion’s body, any time Astarion’s eyes glaze over or stare into the distance (because trauma is not something you heal from after having sex once on top of a grave, it's not magically gone. It takes time and healing so this still happens occasionally), sexual intimacy is paused/stopped. Other intimacy is an option, to give Astarion a safe, soft space. For example, he would whisk Astarion away to a bath and climb in with him, lathering bergamot-scented shampoo into his hair, massaging the vampire’s scalp and neck. Or he would pull a blanket over them both, and pull Astarion to his chest and read aloud from the book they’re finishing together.

There’s absolutely no way Halsin can sit still; the man has trouble shifting into a BEAR with passion. He would buck his hips against Astarion’s teasing. He’d grind on the bed as he opened his lips over the pretty pink tip of Astarion’s throbbing cock and lapped at the sensitive slit at the tip. His hands would be in so many places at once seeking stimulation and movement. Most of the time, he’d have one hand reaching upward, fingers interlaced with Astarion’s fingers. Because, he knew, two squeezes meant slow down. Three meant stop. They’d never had to say it verbally. Halsin just knew.

He’d be absolutely down for letting Astarion take him. He’d encourage it. He wants his heart to experience all of nature’s pleasures, including being top. He’d cede control to Astarion willingly, freely, whenever asked and more. His generosity knows no bounds.

He’d be a filthy talker in bed with his vampire love; but a sweet one. “Can you come for me, Astarion?” he’d say, intentionally edging his partner at first, until: ���My heart, let yourself feel bliss; one more time, come for me my dear one.” And “My darling Astarion, you’re sweeter than the ripest blackberries, the purest honey,” as he uses his wide tongue to lick Astarion’s spilled ecstasy from his pale lower belly.

Speaking of talking, he’d be so full of praise for Astarion. Astarion, who had experienced only insult or hollow praises about his body, finally experiences someone speaking to him in earnestness, in love.

He’d kiss Astarion’s bite scar, running his tongue and lips over the pinpricks. Reclaiming a mark of slavery and instead nibbling in the same spot out of love. Removing the stigma, the pain from the bite, to replace Astarion's association with a mouth on his neck with ecstasy, pleasure, and consent.

An aftercare CHAMP and I’m not talking like bdsm stuff, which might or might not be something Astarion is into, but even just general sexual intimacy aftercare. Halsin would still focus on making Astarion feel good about his body for more than just sex. He’d lay beside his vampire and rub the pads of his fingers on Astarion’s back, massaging his lat muscles, sore from pulling his short bow. Braiding his white hair in French braids, just to take them out and braid them again. Always, of course, offering his neck to Astarion after any particularly vigorous lovemaking so his little pale love is in tip-top health.

Also Halsin is just fucking super smart and would protect his smaller lover and make sure Astarion isn’t harmed when Halsin takes him. He’d formulate some sort of lubricant that also has healing potion qualities, so any potential lack of preparedness is a non-issue.

Halsin’s so intuitive, that when he is inside his lover, he would know precisely when he is at just the right spot. He would have 0 complaints about moving only an inch or two at a time, back and forth, to almost unbearably focus on Astarion’s prostate, no matter how agonizingly tempting it would be for himself to bury himself to the root.

[minminyoonjii]

i am having many thoughts about trying anal with changbin and reader still wants their pussy full so bin calls channie to help fill up his baby 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🕯Summary: Princesses always had the right to feel full. It's not wrong to beg your boyfriend for another set of dick.

🌹CW

Double Penetration|Squirting|Multiple Orgasms|Rough Sex|Praise Kink|Wet & Messy|Fingering|Dirty Talk|Threesome|Brief Fisting|First Time! Anal|Gaping|Commanding Tone|Teasing|Dom! Changbin|Dom! Chan|Degrading Praise Kink|Desperate Orgasm|Aftercare

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 1.5K

"Take a deep breath for me, princess. Yes, that's it," Changbin said, easing a finger past your rim. You whimpered, clawing the sheets below. "Shh, shh. It's okay, it's okay. You'll be able to take my cock soon, hm?" he reassured, slicking a finger with lube before stretching out your tight hole. You huffed out a breath, relaxing into the gentle touches working your hole open. Changbin cooed, "You're doing good, so so good for me," he praised, easing in another finger. 

You clenched around his fingers, groaning at the sheer girth of his fingers scissoring your rimmed hole. Changbin hissed, chuckling at the clench, "Dirty girl, is your pretty pussy feeling empty, princess?" he asked, smacking your plush ass. You moaned, wiggling your hips, "Please," you pleaded. Changbin chuckled, "I'll call him just for tonight. You know how well he'd pound your needy pussy," he teased, curling his fingers within your ribbed walls. 

"Fucking, fuck," you groaned, bundling the sheets within your grip. Changbin cooed, "Be quiet for me. We can't have him knowing instantly, princess," he said, clicking on the contact. You bit your bottom lip, trying to muffle the moans spilling past your lips. Changbin smirked at your efforts, "Good girl," he praised, adding another finger with his thrusts. "Mmhm," you whined, shutting your eyes tight as pleasure shot through your spine. 

The phone rang twice before someone picked up, "Oh, Bin-ah. Is everything alright?" Chan asked, leaning against his bed frame. Changbin chuckled, "We need your help hyungnim," he said, jutting his lips to a pout. Chan chuckled, "We? Who else is with you?" he asked, straightening himself. Changbin smirked, loving how you burrowed your face into the pillow to muffle your moans, "Go ahead, answer him," he instructed, picking up the pace of his thrusts. 

You whined, lifting your head as raw cries and whimpers echoed through the room, "Chan," you sobbed, arching your back. "Aww, baby," Chan cooed, getting up from his bed. Changbin grinned, "You sound so precious, princess," he said, rubbing your waist. You moved your hip, "Ah, ah, fuck," you panted, fucking back on Changbin's fingers. Chan knocked on Changbin's door, "Delivery is here," he said, hanging up the call before walking into the room.

Changbin rolled his eyes playfully, "Delivery, really?" he asked, easing his finger out of your puffy rim. Chan shrugged, "Sounded hotter in my head," he said, chuckling at Changbin's side glance. "What can I help you with?" Chan asked, moving to brush your hair out of your face. Changbin smirked, "It's the princess's first anal and she isn't used to her cunt being empty," he explained, stripping his bottom half bare. Chan nodded, "So you decided to call me to fill her up?" he asked, tugging off his shirt.

"Exactly. Ah, hyung, you're so smart," Changbin cooed, pinching Chan's cheek. "Do that again," Chan warned, smirking with his tongue pressed against his bottom lip. Changbin dodged, "I'm good," he said, lifting your pliant body. Chan smiled, "Binnie must have been a bully hasn't he?" he asked, stroking your cheek. You pouted, getting yourself comfortable on Chan's torso, "Big meanie," you grumbled, wrapping your arms under Chan's. 

Changbin gasped before chuckling, "If you want mean princess, I can show you mean," he said, rolling on the condom over his throbbing cock. "Bin-ah, be good for hyung and roll one on me," Chan said, spreading his legs to rest his cock between your ass. Changbin smirked, tearing the condom foil, "Hard already?" he teased, rolling the condom over Chan's dripping cockhead. He hissed, "Been hard since the call," he groaned, bucking his hips.

"Let me lift you, princess," Changbin said, lifting you to align your cunt with Chan's aching cock. Chan gripped the base of his cock, "Take as much as you can, baby," he reassured, rubbing your thighs. You took a deep breath, slowly easing Chan's cock past your folds to your hole, "Oh, oh, hah" you moaned, preening at the stretch. Chan groaned in tandem, "Good girl, fuck," he chuckled, grazing your thighs. "Why the fuck, fuck so fucking big," you babbled, sinking your hips to the hilt. 

Chan rubbed your back as you laid on him, "So proud of you, baby," he cooed, kissing your forehead. Changbin spread apart your ass, "Deep breaths, princess," he instructed as he pushed his cock in inch by inch. Tears weld up in your eyes but Chan instantly kissed them away, "Doing so good for us, so good," he grunted, nosing your cheek. Changbin groaned, losing his mind to the sheer tightness wrapped around his cock, "Fuck I can feel everything," he gruffed, rolling his hips.

You hiccuped, mind melted as the sheer pleasure burned through your body. The duo held their positions buried in your holes till the base, their cocks stretching out your holes to the max. "Move," you whispered just loud enough for Changbin to set a rhythm. "Take it, princess. Take my cock," Changbin growled, his hips striking your ass. Wails escaped your lips, and your eyes rolled back. Chan groaned, looking away from your blissful face before he came from just that.

"Bin, bin," you sobbed, dragging your nails down Chan's chest. "Your Bin's right here, princess. Clench for us," Changbin groaned, digging his fingers into your hips. You whimpered, clenching as hard as you could around their cocks, "Hah, Fuck!" you cried, drooling at the pressure of Chan's cockhead pressed against your cervix. Chan tossed his head back, baring his neck, trying his hardest not to roll his hips. Changbin felt his knees buckle at you clench, "Shit princess, that grip could kill a man," he moaned, staring down at your quivering body. 

He raised his palm, laying a heavy smack on your ass before continuing his relentless thrusts, "Oh, oh, yes, yes" Changbin gasped, working his thigh muscles to bring you the most torturous pleasure. You broke down into mindless babbles and cries, leaving only Chan's touches to keep you sober. "You're so fucking pretty, baby," he groaned, lifting your chin to sync your lips together. Chan hummed, easily slipping his tongue with yours. 

You sniffled, weakly mimicking Chan's kisses. Chan smirked, licking the roof of your mouth to see your reaction. A shiver ran down your body causing you to clench. Chan grunted, tensing his jaw at the sudden grip and Changbin wasn't faring any better, "Good baby, so good," Chan said, syncing your lips once more to feel you clench again when he licked the roof of your mouth. Changbin whined, "Take my fucking cum, princess. Fuck!" he keened, burying his cock into the base, pressing firming against your puffy rim. 

"Yes, yes, yes, Bin," you mewled, eyes barely able to open. Chan shuddered a breath, clenching his jaw to hold off his appending orgasm. Changbin groaned, hissing as he carefully pulled out his cum drenched cock. He gulped at the sight of your drippy abused rim, gaping. "I'm going to lose my mind," he whispered, easily breaching your loose hole with his fist. Your whines instantly made Changbin remove his hand, "Maybe next time, princess," he said, cleaning off his mess. 

Chan hugged around your waist, "Let's make your pretty cunt gush, baby," he growled, already so close to cumming. You nodded mindlessly, head clouded with nothing by fuzz. Changbin turned on your vibrator and positioned it against your clit, "Squirt for us, princess. Make a mess," he commanded, hearing your scream. Chan groaned, bucking his hips up mercilessly, "Fucking, fuck," he gruffed, pounding his cock up your sloppy cunt. 

Changbin reached beneath and pushed the hood of your clit up as he aimed the vibrator. You wailed, thrashing in Chan's arms, "Ah, hah!" you cried, tears and drool coating Chan's pecs. Chan growled against your ear, nipping on it as he snapped his hips erratically, hitting beneath your cervix with precision, "Give it to me, cum for us, baby," he gruffed, holding you down even if you squirm. Your jaw slacked, body quivering hard around his cock, "Ah," you gasped, arching your back. The pressure built so strong, Chan's cock slipped out of your gushing cunt.

"That's it, baby girl," he groaned, slapping his cock against your slit before slipping it back in just to cum within your tight walls. Changbin wiped your body down, "Messy little princess," he chuckled, cleaning you and Chan up. Chan moved your body next to his, and he gently eased his cock out from your sensitive cunt, "Sorry if I was too rough, baby," he rasped, kissing your nose. Changbin lubed up a plug, "Binnie's got you, princess," he whispered, pressing the plug in carefully. 

Chan raised an eyebrow at the sight. "She wanted the stretch to last for a bit," Changbin said, rubbing the curve of your ass. Chan chuckled in disbelief, "I swear the both of you may just have signed my death wish," he said, laying back into the bed. Changbin rolled his eyes, "Says the one this close to knocking up my girlfriend," he teased, pressing two of his fingers together. "I couldn't help it, your little princess takes cock like a goddess," he yawned, pulling Changbin next to him.

"Hmph, but she's mine Channie hyung, get your own girlfriend," Changbin sulked, pulling you close to him. Chan laughed, "We'll see," he replied, patting Changbin's ass.

[midnightarcheress]

woke up wanting to write something with my pretty boy kyle and this was born.

cw: nsfw. f!reader. gaz obsessing over the pretty college girl by his side. implied future stalking ig? unedited. part one | part two

someone catches Kyle’s attention on the plane.

his legs are on the verge of cramping and his breath is ragged, running to board his connection flight at the last call. after falling off a helicopter twice in the last operations, he developed an uneasiness of flying, no matter the aircraft, preferring taking the train over being miles up in the air, even if it triples the travel. but this time, he just wanted to get home the fastest way possible for a much-needed night of sleep in his own bed, instead of the barely cushioned military-issued mattress.

he hopped on the plane and made his way through the corridor, gaze fixed on the numbers under the luggage rack, attentively looking for his spot. he stopped by row thirteen, eyes darting between the number and the woman on the window seat. i could’ve sworn i marked that one when i booked? Kyle checks the boarding ticket again – row 13, seat A. it’s the right seat, why is there someone on it? 

an annoyed sigh escapes his lips, gathering the energy to speak up and reclaim his rightfully bought seat. the problem is, he gets ultimately struck when the seat-thief notices him standing and turns to face him. wide eyes meet his brown ones, immediately softening at the sight of your tempting glossy lips and delicate fingers pushing a lock of hair behind your ear. pretty little thing.

“i’m sorry, is this your seat? it was empty on the first flight,” you say, an apologetic tone in your voice as you frantically close the book on your lap and shove it in a bag, “i’ll move back for you–”

“it’s alright, keep it.” he interrupts, throwing his carry-on in the rack and taking the empty middle spot beside you. he smirks at your appreciative nod and watches you settling again on the backrest, buckling the seatbelt at the shining signal hovering your heads and paying extra attention to the flight attendant announcements, even when no one around seems to care. sweet girl, so considerate to everyone.

the plane starts speeding on the runway, and from his peripheral he views your squeezed eyes and nearly white fingers gripping the armrest, breathing quickening during the gravity push of the take off. it takes a moment for you to release your tight grasp and exhale, making his hand twitch with an urge to soothe you, tell you that you’re safe.

he shakes the sensation and leans his head back, focusing on the one thing he can do to pass the time – sleep. but he can’t keep his gaze out of you, glancing to his left whenever you make a movement, no matter how small. the rapid keyboard tapping guides his irises to your laptop screen, catching a few words in a sea of what for him sounds like an alien language. DNA strand? allele? locus mutation?

he sneaks a look through your figure and his eyes land on the familiar blue logo on your hoodie, the same one he always sees on the walk from the market to his flat. uni a couple blocks from me. do you live on campus? or nearby? that neighborhood is awful at night, full of old blokes searching the pubs for a quick fuck with a naive college girl. but you seem smart, not the type to fall for their tricks, right?

the harder he tries to avoid your presence, the more you make yourself known, almost making him feel like it’s on purpose. the way your plump lips wrap on the water bottle, slight drop scaping on the corner and trailing down your neck, your flowery perfume filling his nostrils when you shift on your seat to remove the top layer of your clothing, exposing the low-cut blouse underneath and the soft roundness of your tits. is that for me, sweet girl? need a break from studying so hard? the sudden tightness of his trousers brings him back to his senses, stirring the thought out of his brain. 

keep it cool, Garrick, he repeats over and over in his mind, ignoring the tent forming on his lap and praying to whatever god is out there that you won’t see it, even while standing up and brushing your legs on his knees to get to the corridor due the cramped space. however, he doesn’t miss how the guy by his side shamelessly ogles your cleavage when you step past him, making his blood boil and his fists clench – like he wasn’t doing the same exact thing minutes before.

while you're away, he glances at your screen again, noticing the constant message notifications from the contact ‘Marcus - DO NOT ANSWER’. already looking bad for you, mate. curiosity takes hold of him and he starts reading the texts, silently chuckling at the guy’s pathetic attempts to get your attention. what did he do to earn a cold shoulder, sweetheart? did he hurt you? didn’t he pay enough attention to you? i bet he couldn’t even fuck you the way you deserve. 

he keeps skimming the messages until the grin tugging on the corners of his mouth fades into a frown when he reads ‘you’re gonna regret leaving me’. now, who’s this prick? think you’ll get away with threatening my girl?

his body stiffens when you come back, eyes darting back to the small telly in front of him when your hand brushes on his thigh while sitting once again. he hears your irritated huff when you skim through the messages, shutting the laptop with near violence. i can take care of him for you, love. you won’t have to deal with that by yourself anymore. 

the pilot’s muffled voice coming through the speakers and announcing the landing shortens his daydreams about getting rid of Marcus. it would be a great way to keep himself busy while on leave, making sure to do it fast and secretly, of course, just to protect his sweet little thing. poor guy wouldn’t even know what hit him.

the pressure change on his ear is the telltale sign of the aircraft lowering its altitude, landing gear out to hit the lane and brake the machine. he turns to the side, watching again your knitted eyebrows and how your nails dig into the seat. this time he doesn’t contain himself and his hand gently lingers over yours, the softness of it sending lightning strikes over his body and almost making him cum instantly. 

your glinting eyes find his face with a grateful gaze, lips mouthing a sugary thank you when the plane finally stops. he helps you take your handbag out of the rack with ease, using the situation to flaunt his muscles. i can even pick you up, darling. would love to feel your pretty thighs around my waist. you wouldn’t have to walk a day in your life. 

his eyes follow the sway of your hips through the airport, heart almost bursting when you wave goodbye and flash him a timid smile. you think that’s the last time you’ll see him, he thinks this is just the beginning. a name and university? he’s used to finding people with even less information. see you soon, sweet girl.

[frogchiro]

OMG TEASER READER WITH FRAT! LEON? 👀👁👁👁 Just let this man cum on something other than his hand or pants

Mmm idk about that, did he deserve it? ://

Imagine being saddled with tutoring Leon though! You jaw almost him the desk when your professor, the one from the course you shared with Leon called you two after class to him and announced that due to Leon being...very behind on his coursework and his grades being so low that he is at risk at filing, he is now assigned to you as your pupil! Isn't that great that you can help a fellow student? <3

No. It's really not when that student is Leon S. Kennedy, the notorious fratboy with a room temperature IQ who apparently has a huge crush on you and sends you dick pics and cumshot videos, begging for your pussy and to 'knock up every single of your eggs'. Great.

On the other hand imagine how happy Leon is!! He is over the moon in fact! This will be literally the only topic he will drone on about for the rest of the week leading up to you first tutoring session, in your dorm!! He feels like he hit the jack-pot with this one and he can't fuck it up! Sure, he may not be the smartest, but he has a lot of enthusiasm and wants to show off to you, so on the day of your first lesson he wears his best (aka not stained or old) black compression shirt to accentuate his muscles and for once he cracks out the good cologne and not his usual AXE body spray </3

Imagine he arrives at your door, giddy and bushy tailed and so so horny, all the possible scenarios he saw in porn running through his head, the idea of actually learning completely pushed out. 'Maybe you will wear some sort of schoolgirl uniform? Ohh maybe a sexy teacher~? A ruler in your hand, threatening to spank him if he will be a bad boy that will ultimately fail when he pins you down and fucks you well, ahh so many possibilities~'

Ofc it all comes crashing down when you open the door and there is no sexy costume, no tits on show, no nothin', just you usual sneer when you look at him and a quick and impatient 'Get in' before you slam the door behind him, your displeasure very clear.

Poor Leon who is like a kicked puppy with his ears down and tail between his legs because :(( Why is it so hard :(( And why are you so tough on him :(( It's like nothing wants to actually get through into his head, the material is too hard, he's getting distracted by the sight of your tits in your cute pink top...Until after a few sessions of agony and frustration you finally figure Leon out- he lacks an incentive.

He's a rich boy, comes from a good family, never lacked for anything and was smart enough to get through school until he got a rude awakening in college, but then he got much rowdier, joined a frat and it all went to shit, but the main thing was that he didn't have any real reason to learn well so you came up with the good ol' stick and carrot; if he shows initiative, actually sits his ass down and will do some work himself and score at least a B on his upcoming test you will give him a 'nice surprise' and lo and behold Leon almost knocked down your door with how fast he ran to show off the big, fat 'B+' written in red on the front page of his test. Something you...didn't really expect. Like at all.

You expected more like a C at most, a far cry from his usual D or Fs but a B+? Even you had to admit that you were impressed, the smile on your face when you congratulated him made Leon think he will die and go to Heaven but at lest he will die a happy man...And you were saying something about a reward no? :)

And the nice surprise was leading him to your cute, comfy, girly bed, stripping your pretty pink top so that your tits are nice and on show and allowing him to jerk off to them <3 No touching though! He has to earn it with good grades <3

I honestly think Leon would short-circuit then and there because...What. You, the girl he had a crush on for the longest time now, was letting him ogle your pretty tits and jerk off?? Yeah, he died and went to Heaven alright.

Poor boy couldn't take his already leaky cock out of his sweats fast enough, the pretty head already flushed and spurting out precum but the real star of the show were Leon's moans...Even you had to admit that they were the prettiest thing you've ever heard and they made you flush :(( Despite any reservations you might have had, Leon was objectively a very handsome guy and seeing him so horny, so desperate and whiny just for you in real life was enough to make you wet...Not that you'd admit it to him, no no. His ego would shoot through the roof then and that's the last thing you'd want, so instead you just focus on how pretty Leon looks, sat in your bed, jerking his cock and desperately trying to prolong the moment; he just loves you so much and seeing as this is the first time where you two ever did something like this, he wanted to enjoy it as long as he could <//3

Imagine poor Leon being a bit too horny, his brain getting fuzzy with hormones, drunk on love and pleasure and neither you nor him realized that you two scooched closer together, now almost pressing against each other to the point that if he leaned down only a bit he could take your nipple into his mouth but no, he had to be nice...Or at least until a particularly good twist of his hand had his whimpering and moaning his head off, his sperm shooting and landing right on your soft belly and he swears he saw black spots in his eyes at the whine you let out :((

[melrodrigo]

friends? p.2

Cairo Sweet x Fem Reader

Summary: A rivalry between you and Cairo has been going on for several months…what does it take for her to finally break?

Warnings: there r literally none they bicker like an old couple and cairos mean

Word Count: 2k+

A/n: helloooo i’m not sure abt this chapter but lmk what u thought, i cranked this out in its entirety last night, enjoy!

part 1

Friendship was not Cairo Sweet's strong suit. Ask her about Dickinson or Austen or Shakespeare—these were all things she could answer. But the ultimate question of friendship was not something hot on Cairo's mind.

She didn't need it, that was her take. And why would she waste time on something she didn't need?

Friends, much less a partner, was something she never saw for herself. The thought of being a housewife, living in a picture-perfect picket fence house, appalled her. The only things that mattered were her, her writing, and Yale.

So when a certain girl had entered her life, she hated it.

You.

You with your stupid face, and pretty hair, she hated you. A burning passion so intense it heated up her heart and made it race. So intense that she wanted to punch you in the face whenever you passed, only to bandage it up with feather light touches so she could punch you again harder.

At first it was nothing; she didn't have a thing to worry about. A blushing face while you stammered and fumbled around trying to give Mr. Miller an answer, she disregarded you as someone she could respect immediately.

But obviously she had caught you on a bad day, because after those first few weeks, you managed to present yourself in a less idiotic way.

You were, surprisingly smart.

Almost too smart, she pondered. It was getting in the way of her own studies. How could it be, that someone was on bar (never better) than her?

Often she found herself seething at you, arguing at every chance she had with your answers; but, you had given her the same treatment as well.

It wasn't strange for your classes to end in heated debate, both sides failing to yield. It bothered her greatly. She went back home and read more than she'd ever read before, studied just a few minutes longer because she could feel you taunting her.

"Sweet." You nodded, as she pushed open the doors to Millers class. You'd made it a habit to arrive early, leaving only you and her for a good thirty minutes before everyone else arrived.

It was infuriating. To have you so close, open, ready to harm, yet she could do nothing. She'd been having a particularly grueling week. Her parents had just come back from Brazil; and, always seemed to be ready to go at her throat. Gone were her lonely but comforting nights on her bed, candle-lit. Now it was just fights and condescending jabs.

"What did you get on the paper?" Your voice piped up, breaking her from her train of thought. You were referring to the paper Mr.Miller had given back last week, one that counted for forty percent of the grade.

She felt a swell of pride. Scores were something she could argue about. This would take off the stress she'd been building.

"99." She smirked, cocking her head to the side.

You whistled approval, nodding adamantly. Even though there was nothing to suggest so, she could swear she felt condescension in your tone.

She was good at picking out stuff like that. The roll of someone's tongue, the way they smack their lips—it all meant something to her.

She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes. "What did you get?" She asked, brows furrowed.

You didn't say anything, simply holding up a finger and mouthing 'one hundo' and watched as disbelief took over her features.

"You're fucking lying." She seethed. Her good mood had suddenly disappeared just as fast as it had appeared.

You spun around in your seat, stupid smile on your face. God, she wanted to jump at you and claw it off.

"Hey, hey, it's okay to be mad. You can't be the best at everything." You told her, hands behind your head.She gripped the desk harder, knuckles turning a faint white.

She stood up, walking over to your desk."You little shi-"

"Good morning, the both of you!" Mr.Miller interrupted, cheery smile. His enthusiasm radiated off his body like rays radiated from the sun. He stopped short when he saw Cairo stalking close to you, a clear pout on her face.

"What are you doing?" He asked, question directed towards her, voice sickly sweet. He had grown fond of Cairo since the beginning of the term; she was his favorite student.

"I'd like her to be removed from the class. Can't you do that Mr.Miller?" She avoided his question, tilting her face at an angle where her chocolate colored eyes shone bright.

His white brows furrowed, not quite comprehending. "You mean," He started, "right now...?"

Bless him, he had no clue how manipulative Cairo was.

She doesn't let up, doesn't let her disappointment show. You notice it in the slight clench of her jaw--she's annoyed.

"I meant for the rest of the term, I can't stand being in the same class as her." She emphasized her words with a glare in your direction. You send her a sweet smile back.

"Please, flattery will get you nowhere." You winked, smile turning into a real one when you see her get visibly agitated.

"Please, girls. Let's be civil here all right?" Mr.Miller pipes up, trying to stand in between Cairo and you. It does nothing to lessen the tension in the air.

He turns slightly to Cairo, voice firm. "And no...I won't kick Y/N out."

The childish part of you desperately wants to fist pump the air; but, the more serious side of you decides maybe you shouldn't do that in the company of your arch nemesis.

Class turns weird fast. Cairo—normally quick and adamant—stays quiet, seemingly distracted by the simplest of things: a bird singing softly from a window, the great big forests where her house stood, the sound of your feet continuing to scrape against the carpet.

It irks you a little. It has you not listening in class, wanting to focus on the girl in front of you.

You almost don't hear it when Miller announces that you'll be working in pairs for the midterm project, preoccupied with her bobbling head, moving as if she were listening to some imaginary music.

"You will not be able to pick your own partner, that's already been done for...by me." He adds, after hearing the onslaught of voices from the students. It's clear he's not changing his mind.

"Alright. When I call your names, go sit with your pair and discuss how you'll do the assignment. Olivia, Taylor." He calls out the first pair, going down (what seems like) an endless list of names, never quite getting to yours.

You watch as countless people move around, silently looking out for who hasn't been called yet. You needed to get a good grade on this, and a lazy partner was going to be a nightmare.

You strain your ears to hear Mr.Miller over the commotion of students moving, but when you turn to squint at him you're surprised to see he's already looking at you.

A sinking feeling eats your entire being whole as you watch his mouth move. He points his finger at you, then someone in front of you.

Cairo Sweet.

Fuck.

Even though you loved to tease her, you did not need to have Cairo Sweet as your partner. She was likely to ruin you before you even got to starting the thing.

You don't make the first move to get up, instead you sit dumbly in your chair, bracing yourself.

Your peace is disrupted by a huff from above you. There she is.

"Move over. I need a seat." She says, something in her voice making you oblige. She pulls over an extra chair and sits by the other end of the table.

"You can come closer ya know." You say, unsure of how friendly to be. You'd only ever really spoke with her from a distance, a comfortable distance. Now that she's up in your personal space you feel ike you're going to suffocate.

She ignores you, pursing her lips as she listens to Miller explain the project.

You inch your chair closer, prepared to make a sly jab at the way she's being a teachers pet, but her stare—which has now been redirected on you—stops you in your tracks. She looks scary.

Lips downturned, nostrils flaring, you're a bit taken aback.

"Okay jeez. You don't have to be such an ass about it." You mumble, distancing yourself a great deal further than you already were. The mood, if it weren't enough already, turns more sour.

She ignores your suggestions and remarks on how to do the project, scribbling something down on to her notepad every now and then.

"Earth to you, Sweet. Are you listening to me?" You press, starting to feel those tendrils of annoyance grabbing you. It was one thing to be an ass, but to put her own feelings above doing good work was low, even for her.

Especially for her, you think.

"Do you ever shut up?" She growls, biting her cheeks so hard you could see the indent it was making on the outside.

"Okayyy...someone's obviously going through something, but can we just-" You gesture to the sheet of paper on the table, you haven't even been allowed to look at what she's written yet.

"I am NOT going through something." She says again, voice cracking. The sound brings forth a peculiar reaction in you, your mouth hanging open. Her eyes look...watery.

Before you can utter a word she's getting up and storming out the classroom, making heads turn left and right at the loud noise.

"Um...I'll be right back too." You say, sending Mr.Miller a cheeky smile and a wink, hoping that'll lessen his curiousity enough to not come out after the two of you.

You push open the doors, call Cairos' name a couple times.

You eventually find her outside, back pressed against the brick wall. She's lighting up a cigarette.

Her body language looks more calm now, but you're not sure what to do. You shuffle on your feet, twiddling your thumbs.

"Sorry I did that." She speaks, not turning to look at you. It startles you a bit, you hadn't realized she saw you.

"Cairo Sweet saying sorry? I must be dreaming." You try, although you're not smiling and she doesn't laugh. Humor seems to be sucked away in this little bubble belonging to only the two of you.

You move a little closer, then even closer when Cairo doesn't object. Even though you did hate her to the bone, you wanted to make sure she was okay.

"Are you...alright?" You ask softly, watching her face for an answer. She seems to be deep in thought.

She takes a swing from her cigarette and blows. "I don't like you." Is what she says.

The ice breaks. You no longer feel like you're supposed to pity her. This was Cairo Sweet, her heart was made of coal.

"Yeah I think we established that. Anything else?" You sigh, leaning back so you're also pressed up against the wall.

She turns to you, and for the first time, she doesn't seem very mad.

"I don't like you." She says again, moving closer. It's in your natural instinct to step back, why was she being so weird? Was she going to hurt you?

She grips your shoulder lightly, enough for you to get the message to stay still.

"I don't  like you." Cairo mutters for the third time, eyes piercing into yours. She seems to be speaking a little lower, a little raspier than normal. Cogs seem to be turning in her head, debating and debating and debating.

Debating on what you can't be certain.

"I get it, you don't like me. So what?" You mummur, voice lower than normal. The proximity is making your mind feel a little clouded.

You try not to let your gaze drift down to her lips, but when there's nothing around to distract yourself with, they do.

Her freckles, the ones that litter her face. You get the disgusting urge to touch them.

"So...don't get the wrong idea." She says before taking your lips in a kiss.

It takes you a second to comprehend what's really happening. You stand frigid, mouth parting to gasp. You're gasp is swallowed by her own lips, soft and supple.

Once Cairo feels that you aren't responding, she pulls away, frightened look on her face. Pink lips downturned, her cheeks a rosy red. You don't have time to process what the right move is. For now, you don't need Cairo thinking you didn't like whatever that was.

You reach for her neck, pull her in for a second kiss. It's somehow better than the first. She responds quick, hands wandering to cup your face, then down to circle your waist, then up to tangle in your hair—like she's changing her own mind too quick.

You let her take the lead, pressing you into the wall with a strength you didn't know she possessed.

You're too lost in it all, the smell of her shampoo, the feeling of her teeth scraping your lips, biting down only the slightest, her fingers burning traces wherever they go.

"Sweet." You breathe, coming out more like a soft moan than you would've liked.

She breaks apart from you, a wild mess. You think she's never looked prettier, hair everywhere, lips torn from your heated kisses.

Her eyes are soft until they flash and something else takes over. It's as if your voice had brought her back to life.

"I don't like you." She snarls, and promptly turns on her heels, just a slight increase in speed than her normal strut.

You're left breathless, staring out into the green plains. Mind and heart racing, you're not sure which organ you should listen to.

The implication of what you did hits you like a freight train. You groan and press your hands to your head, willing and willing and willing for a solution to come out of it.

Not to anyones surprise, nothing comes. A magic fairy doesn't tell you what to do, and you're still standing behind school panting.

"Oh god."

[mactavishsgfandwife]

Last Night’s Mistake - Simon "Ghost" Riley

the morning after not proofread nothing nsfw, angsty, with a little comfort at the end female reader

A slight headache is all that remains from last night - confused, tired, achy, you slowly wake up. One by one, little sensations come to your attention. Your head hurts, your body feels warm, your hips still feel a little bit sore from where the uncomfortable skirt that you wore last night dug in. And you’re in bed, in a room, shady and quiet… with an empty space on the other side of the bed.

"Shit…" you groan, your voice a little sore from the night before. This isn’t your bed.

The floor is cool under your feet as you shakily stand up - a soreness growing in your legs. In the bedroom mirror, you inspect yourself. Though the girl staring back at you is the same girl you were last night, her hair is messed up and her face is a little flushed, her makeup having almost entirely worn off except for a hint of sparkle on her eyelids. Not to mention, she’s in nothing but her panties.

Whoever’s room this is, their wardrobe is pretty bare, the only civilian clothes being a few different t-shirts and vests, two dark-coloured hoodies, a pair of sweatpants, a pair of jeans, and some smart clothes for formal occasions. Not the cutest selection, but it would do, so you grabbed the black Led Zeppelin t-shirt and pulled it on.

Sat on his bed, you fixed your hair in the mirror as you tried to remember who he was. Little memories came back from the night before, unclear, like a half-forgotten dream. Drinks. A silver ring on his finger - not a wedding ring, you noted. You were in the car, with his rough hand on your thigh, playing with the hem of that god-awful skirt. Doors clicking, sheets ruffling, short blonde hair… oh my God, you’d fucked Simon Riley.

"Shit," you curse your idiocy, for the second time this morning.

You’ve wanted Simon, you’ve always wanted Simon, but he’s kind of a dick and not the kind of person you’d seriously want to be with. Plus, he’s a little bit older than you and not the kind of man who has girlfriends. He barely even has friends.

Finding a spare toothbrush in his bathroom, you brush your teeth, and clean yourself up with some water and his men’s face cream for lack of a moisturiser, not being able to completely remove the sparkle and shadow of eyeliner from around your eyes. But you know you can’t distract yourself for too long from facing last night’s mistake. Simon.

He’s sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea, in a pair of those plaid pyjama bottoms and a black tshirt that you’re pretty sure is exactly the same as three others you just saw in his wardrobe. He doesn’t make any effort to acknowledge you, focused on some work on his laptop. Maybe the same pit of regret over last night is sitting inside his stomach, maybe he doesn’t want to acknowledge you for fear that things won’t work out - after all, a regrettable one night stand is much more bearable than a rejection. But maybe he just doesn’t care, and you figure that’s more likely.

"Morning," you speak softly, a little taken aback by his lack of interest. It just feels so empty, and part of you is just begging him to show some emotion and put an end to this weird, uncomfortable limbo.

Of course, he doesn’t do that. He looks up at you nonchalantly, and nods, as if to say "morning. see you."

Something about that reaction hurts - even if he sees this as something mutually regrettable, the way that he dismisses your existence feels the the ultimate rejection. It’s not the sex, you figure, the sex was great. At least, that’s what the shaky aching of your legs and the marking on your neck is telling you. Maybe it was just you. And in those few seconds that you stare at each other blankly, not knowing what to add to fill the silence, all the exhaustion from last night and the discomfort of this morning hits you at once and all you want to do is cry.

"I should go," your voice falters a little, ashamed, as you head back into his bedroom to fetch the stuff you’d thrown on the floor beside his bed just last night. For a moment, before closing the door behind you, you wait for any sign of a reaction from the man on the sofa. Nothing. You close the door just as your breath starts to get shaky.

For some unclear reason, you can’t seem to get going right away. So you sit on his bed, in his shirt, staring down at the terrible skirt and the shirt you’d worn with it, thrown over your favourite bag and the same shoes you wear every time you go out because you only own two pairs of shoes. You’re so ridiculous, all teary over Simon - you knew this would happen, you knew a man like that would only use you and then make you cry. You curse him, the alcohol, the terrible skirt… but mostly, yourself. He was just a crush, something stupid and unobtainable, something no girl in her right mind would actually go near. Yet here you were.

Shivering from his weirdly cold house, you slowly pull off his tshirt, the fabric brushing against your bare back as it comes off.

"You can keep the shirt, love," a gruff voice says, "looks better on you than it does in me." A chuckle comes from behind you as you jump at the sudden intrusion, and there he is, in all his… whatever he is. Simon. He’s behind you, on the bed, with an large hand reaching out to play with the end of your hair.

"Oh…" he sighs as one of your little teardrops falls on his wrist, "you alright?"

Little teardrops keep falling, and your best efforts to keep it together are starting to fall through. It feels silly, but all the exhaustion and the rejection is too much for you, despite your best efforts to deny it.

"M’fine…" you mumble, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

"You’re not fine, you’re crying," he chuckles softly, with a hint of empathy behind the gruff tone of his voice. Something about that, about him, hurts your heart as you let out a shaky sob.

Instinctively, his strong arm wraps around your waist and pulls you in to his chest. His hands are surprisingly warm, and they cup your puffy cheeks with tender care, a rough thumb wiping away your pretty tears.

"M’sorry, darling…" he holds your face close to his, and gently leans in for a kiss. You don’t have any energy in you to resist, but you don’t really want to. Si doesn’t feel like a mistake anymore. He feels like comfort.

hope you enjoyed! that was a long one for me :3

[ellecdc]

I'm sick rn so I wanted to know if you could do a little comfort fic of moonwater taking care of sick reader or something pls :)

awe so sorry you're unwell babes! hope you feel better soon <33

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who has the flu

Another shiver shook your frame even from your place burrowed deep beneath the thick duvet in your spare bedroom.

You’d woken up a little late this morning; Regulus needed to be in the office early for a meeting, and Remus had a meeting with his publisher, meaning you had been on your own. You felt awful, but ultimately hoped that as the day had continued, you might perk up a bit.

You did not perk up. In fact, you ended up spending so much time in the bathroom that your boss actually suggested you go home for the rest of the day.

Too poorly to feel as embarrassed as you probably ought to, you readily accepted and returned to yours, Regulus’, and Remus’ shared flat.

It took nearly all your effort to change out of your work clothes, change the bedding in your shared bedroom so that the boys wouldn’t have to sleep in your germs, and set yourself up in the guest room with a bucket just in case.

You’d slept on and off quite fitfully, waking up with a start when your fever induced brain concocted the most ridiculous nightmares to alert you to your sweaty and discomfited state. 

You were so poorly that you hadn’t even realized anyone was home until Regulus was standing in front of you like a creepy vampire watching you sleep.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Regulus.” You muttered, slapping your hand to your own chest as you tried catching your breath, which caused a small coughing fit.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Your boyfriend asked incredulously.

You groaned as you rolled back onto your side to face him.

“Hello, Regulus. It’s nice to see you.” You deadpanned.

Regulus huffed and dropped his briefcase.

“Hello, amour.” He deadpanned in return. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He asked again as he gently sat on the edge of the bed to place the back of his hand to your forehead, grimacing in response to your sweat or your fever, you weren’t sure. 

“I’m sick.”

Regulus made a pathetic cooing sound that was so contrary to his sharp demeanour made all the more severe in his smart work attire, it was almost comical. 

“Why didn’t you call me?”

You huffed at that. “So, what? So, you could come home and watch me barely sleep? I was fine.”

“Fine.” Regulus scoffed. “You don’t look fine, amour.”

“Words hurt, Reg.” You groaned as the pain behind your eyes grew.

Regulus made another cooing sound and stood.

You thought perhaps he was getting up to change or whatnot but opened your eyes to see him with his phone pressed to his ear.

“Regulus, what are you doing?” You demanded with all the sternness you could muster, which was not much at all in your current state.

“That’s enough out of you.” He muttered quietly as he brought his phone back to his ear.

“Hi love, how are you?” He spoke over your attempted rebuttal.

You could hear your other boyfriends’ low tones responding to Regulus from the other end of the line.

“Good. It went well, thank you. I just got home actually, Y/N’s already here; she’s quite poorly.”

Though you still couldn’t make out the words, Remus’ voice picked up in volume. 

“No, she didn’t tell me either.” Regulus commented, sending you a pointed glare.  

“Okay, yeah. Alright, we’ll see you soon. Yeah, love you too. Bye.” 

You groaned petulantly. “Why’d you do that? He doesn’t have to come home for me.”

“Maybe he’s coming home for me; ever consider that?” He snarked back, pushing some of your sweaty hairs away from your head to press a kiss to your head.

“You’re a furnace, amour. Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t taken any medication?”

He got his answer in the form of a guilty expression.

“Tu vas être ma mort. Tu as de la chance d'être si mignon.” He muttered as he left the room to change and gather some things for your flu. 

You came back into consciousness to the sound of Remus and Regulus speaking gently.

“I hate to wake her up, but she really should take something.”

“Has she eaten, though? She shouldn’t take anything on an empty stomach.”

“If that bucket is any indication, I doubt there’s anything in her stomach at all.”

“Can you guys go do your worrying elsewhere, please? I’m trying to die in peace.” You groaned, caused Remus to gasp and Regulus to scoff.

“Dovey! Oh, my poor girl. What happened? Are you okay?” Remus cooed, kneeling on the floor in front of you to start petting at your head.

“I’m okay.” You croaked.

“You’re a liar.” He responded; words pointed but expression loving.

“Do you think you can eat, amour?” Regulus interrupted. 

“I don’t want to.” You moaned.

“That’s not what I asked, love.”

Remus tsked at Regulus’ coldness and took your face in his hands.

“Dove, can you try? Please? For me.”

You groaned very petulantly but began sitting yourself upright nonetheless. 

You allowed Remus to position your pillows and arrange the tray Regulus had prepared for you on your lap, but you drew the line at him trying to spoon feed you the stew.  

“Did you wake up this poorly?” Regulus asked from the end of your bed.

“Sort of, but it got worse at work.”

The air was sucked out of the room as both men turned to look at you incredulously.

“You went to work?!” Regulus gawked.

“Why, dove?”

“Ma MORT, je le jure!” Regulus groaned exasperatedly. “Why didn’t you call us to pick you up?”

“And you took the time to change the bedding and move out of our room when you were like this?” Remus added.

You were beginning to feel embarrassingly teary as you put your spoon down and pushed the tray away from you.

“I didn’t want you guys to catch this. I just... I was fine.” You sniffled and wiped at your eyes as the first tear fell.

Remus tsked again and rested his forehead against your temple, and you realized then how much cooler his forehead felt against yours. 

“Okay.” Regulus said quietly, picking up the tray from your lap and placing it on the dresser. “Can you take these for me, love? Fever reducers and anti-nausea for now; we’ll see how you feel in a few hours.”

He held the pills out to you in his palm and held a glass of water in the other. You hiccupped and sniffled before accepting both, handing him back the glass half full once you were done.

“Thank you.” Regulus whispered gently, kissing your forehead and bringing your tray to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry we scolded you, dovey.” Remus whispered into your cheek, causing new tears to fall. “We just worry; you know that, right?”

“Yeah.” You whimpered, and even you could tell it was sort of pathetic.

“Oh, my poor darling.” Remus cooed, standing from your side to climb in on the opposite side of the bed. 

“Don’t, Rem. I don’t want you to get sick.” You whined, though allowed your body to be pulled into his side.

“Tough.” He said simply, punctuating the sentiment with a kiss to your temple. “Then I’ll just get to call in sick too.”

You were sure the tears were mostly from exhaustion and discomfort, but you couldn’t seem to get them to stop.

“What’s the matter, hm?”

“I don’t feel good.” You whined.

“I know, babydove. I’m sorry.”

That’s how Regulus found you when he came back to the room; you crying into Remus’ shirt as he rubbed broad strokes up and down your back.

“Rem, we’re trying to bring her temperature down, love.” He admonished gently, though sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his own soothing strokes on your clammy arm. 

“You try denying this sweet girl her cuddles, Reg.” Remus responded.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before placing a cold wet cloth on your head. 

“I’m sorry you’re so poorly, amour. And I’m sorry if we made it worse.” He apologized. 

You quickly shook your head (which you immediately regretted as the nausea threatened to return). “You didn’t; you don’t.”

“I upset you though, I’m sorry. I’m too rough sometimes.” Regulus admitted, sounding almost as teary as you. Remus tsked and reached one of his hands over you to take Regulus’ hand.

“I know what you’re thinking, love, and you’re wrong.” Remus insisted. “And I know you’re wrong, because your parents wouldn’t have fussed over you at all when you were sick; so there’s no way you could be acting like them right now.”

The fact that Regulus had spent any amount of time worrying that he’d been too harsh with you, that he’d been at all like his awful parents caused your few tears to turn into true crying.

“I’m sorry Reggie.” You cried, turning to look at him. His brows furrowed dramatically, and he looked just as close to crying. “If you weren’t here; I’d be sitting in bed with no food, no medicine, no cloths, and no love.”

“Well, you maybe would have had some love.” Remus argued from your other side.

“I would’ve died.” You insisted.

One tear did fall from Regulus’ eye as he smiled sadly at you. “I just hate to see you so poorly, amour. You should always be happy and lovely.”

“I am. I’m better when you’re here.” You insisted.

“How dare you insinuate that our sweet darling girl could ever possibly be not lovely, Regulus. Absolute blasphemy.” Remus scolded, causing both you and Regulus to chuckle. 

“Terribly sorry, you two. I seem to have forgotten myself.” He laughed, turning the cloth over on your head and trailing his fingers down your jaw to massage at your neck. 

“Don’t let it happen again.” Remus instructed.

You fell asleep to the sound of Regulus promising that he wouldn’t. 

[being-addie]

Healthy habits I'm developing for 2023

It's already April and I'm still in that rut of sleeping at 2am, buying a quick fix of candy at the store when I have fruit at home, eating too many carbs and skipping the gym. Now, I'm getting my shit together.

It's easy to disguise bad habits with excuses. "Oh, I have exams coming up". "Work's been really draining lately". But if you don't change now, you'll be stuck in that same loop for the rest of your life.

Prioritising health:

Sleeping 7-8 hours every night: To end my absolutely atrocious amount of screen time, I've decided to delete all those distracting apps on my phone. It's hard, but worth it. Now I won't be tempted to scroll on Instagram when I should be sleeping.

Making healthy food choices: Choosing homemade granola over chocolate bars, banana bread over Nutella sandwiches, and homemade nachos over packaged chips makes a huge difference.

Working out: l go to the gym daily, but lately, I've been lazy and slacking off. So I want to start going again along with squeezing in a run in the evening. Finishing at least 8k steps every day. Moving my body in some way, whether it's dance or yoga.

Water: I have a bad habit of forgetting to drink water, even when it's right in front of me. So I've downloaded some water reminders to help me remember to drink. I've also decided to incorporate lemon honey iced tea into my diet because I'm a fiend for it.

Working smart:

Creating a to-do list: Committing to knocking off at least three things on a to-do list and gradually increasing the number of tasks.

Keeping devices away: I've started keeping my phone in my mom's room while I work, or I lock it in my cupboard so I won't get distracted, and I use extensions like WasteNoTime and StayFocusd to block unnecessary websites.

Dividing time: Making a schedule for my day, so I can divide school studies, sketching practice and homework. It is so important to block out parts of the day for morning and night routines and self-care.

Cleansing my life:

A clean workspace: Clean up my desk every day, so I can sit in an uncluttered space, and keep my racing mind calm.

Making my bed: Focusing on making sure my bed is clean first thing in the morning, so I have a place that's clean and warm after a long day.

Deleting social media: It was difficult, but I did it. Fighting the temptation to log in again is real, but I'm slowly coming to realise I don't care what people are posting on their stories, and the FOMO is slowly fading.

Toxic people: Getting rid of toxic friends, and deleting numbers and chats of people are who no longer important in my life. Having access to me is a privilege.

Self-care: Every Sunday, I'm setting aside a few hours for myself. During that time, I'll be having a long shower, deep conditioning my hair, using a scrub and exfoliator, shaving, moisturizing, and eating something nice. I'll be baking something for the rest of the week so I won't resort to junk food for dessert or snacks.

Understanding and knowing what you want in life is the first step to beginning your journey. Don't let others make you feel guilty for putting yourself first. It's your life, and ultimately, it's only you who can change it.

<3

[lemonlover1110]

Double Trouble

Dad Series

Toji Fushiguro

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Leaving Megumi alone with the twins was a horrible horrible idea. The older brother knows better than anyone that the twins get nightmares, yet when Megumi got the opportunity, he put on the scariest movie he could find; he didn’t do it because he wanted to scare the twins, in fact, he didn’t intend for them to see the movie… Yuuji just kept recommending the movie and Megumi couldn’t put it on while his parents were home so he did the next best thing–

Convinced his parents he could handle two three year olds (took weeks since you weren’t sure it was a smart idea, although Toji was extremely persuaded), convinced them to go on a date, and then when he thought the twins were finally asleep, he put on the movie. Megumi just never noticed the twins on the floor, watching every single second of the movie.

In the end, Toji is the one that has to deal with it. A night light in the twins’ room isn’t enough. He has to sleep on a sleeping bag on the twins’ bedroom floor. While Toji insisted that the twins could sleep with the two of you in your bed, but you told him that they kick you in your sleep and there’s no space for the four of you. Since Toji was the one that ultimately convinced you that Megumi could handle the twins, he’s the one that pays for the consequences.

“Koemi!” Kisho tries to whisper to his sister, but it’s more of a yell. Toji can’t sleep in the uncomfortable sleeping bag, and he’s thinking of yelling at the twin to go to sleep, but Toji is so fucking bored that he wants to listen in.

“What?” Koemi responds, a bit annoyed because unlike her brother, she’s trying to sleep.

“I’m scared.” Kisho says, and when Toji’s about to speak up, Koemi answers before him,

“Daddy’s here.” Koemi reminds her twin, and it brings a smile to Toji’s lips. Toji never really got to feel like that with his own parents so it’s nice to know that his kids trust him enough. Daddy will protect them. And Toji will, he’d give up his life for them. Kisho gets off his bed and goes to the sleeping bag, cuddling up to his father. It doesn’t take long for Koemi to join.

Toji hugs them and kisses the top of their heads. Maybe he should thank Megumi for this and call him over to join in, but he isn’t going to yell so late in the night. 

“I love you so much.” They’re not words that usually leave Toji’s lips, but he wants to be different from his family. He wants to express his love for them as much as he can.

“Why are you awake, daddy?” Kisho asks, making Toji chuckle. Toji responds,

“Why are you awake, Kisho?”