#and every combination thereof

[smoshmouthfastnights]

fic: beautiful oblivion (part one)

summary: "Later that day - much later - when she and Amanda are safe in the parking lot away from prying eyes and ears, she’ll admit that she was imagining Amanda all over her while making direct eye contact with Shayne and that it sent her whole world barreling off its axis."

special shout out to @poppyfamily for all the inspiration and the beautiful moodboard!

note: none of this is meant to represent the real people or their thoughts/feelings. this is all pretend.

The break room was empty, which wasn’t typical for a Tuesday morning. Amanda wondered absently if she was super early or if everyone else was unusually late. Most days, she walked in to find Shayne already standing at the coffee machine with two mugs placed beside him. It’d become a habit they’d fallen into since the podcast started; it was either the first thing they shot during a block or the last thing. Either way, coffee was required. 

Today, Amanda was alone. At least for the moment. Shayne was probably still in his morning workout. Everyone else was always fashionably late. Angela, Chanse, Trevor and Arasha were the kind of people who walked in with smoothies or food from the nearby cafe. They met there every morning. Amanda joined them every once in awhile, but she hadn’t since she and Courtney…

Courtney. 

Amanda’s grip on her mug tightened. The coffee was still brewing. The machine was whirring and squeaking through its process, but Amanda couldn’t hear it anymore. She was being mentally whisked back to last night and the night before and the night before that and 

Fuck. 

She closed her eyes to it. All it did was make the memories brighter and more cohesive. The intensity in blue eyes, the persistence in her kiss. The heat between them that sparked into a wildfire neither of them could have doused. God himself wouldn’t have been able to tear her out of Courtney’s arms or from between her legs. 

The coffee machine stopped, and in the vacuum of silence it left behind came sure and easy footsteps. The slightest scuffing of tennis shoes. It was too light to be Shayne. He walked heavy and loud. No. Not Shayne. Shayne would’ve announced himself by now. This person was being a little too quiet and Amanda was refusing to turn around. 

The brush of fingertips along her lower back gave it away. Nobody else would’ve touched her with that much intent. It was Courtney. 

Damn. 

“How’d you know I was thinking about you?” She asked, turning her head to meet mischievous blue eyes. 

Courtney smirked while Amanda quietly took in the crop top and bell bottom jeans. A Courtney special. Sexy as fuck. 

“I didn’t know for sure.” The blonde replied. “But I had a hunch.” 

Amanda wanted to do so many things in that moment. She wanted to kiss. She wanted to touch. She wanted to grab. None of that happened. Instead, she took a step to the side to fight off the urge. They weren’t “out” to the office and anyone could walk in whenever. 

Courtney didn’t flinch. She simply reached for Amanda’s coffee mug, hand wrapping nonchalantly around Amanda’s. Amanda let the touch happen for a long, drawn out second and then slid her hand away. Courtney’s fingers lingered before lifting the mug to her lips. There was the most inappropriate groan at the sip she took. 

Amanda rose an eyebrow at her. “Good?” 

“Delicious.” Emphasis. So much fucking emphasis. A sparkle in those unfairly pretty eyes. Teeth sinking into her bottom lip. 

Amanda was about to choke on her own tongue. “Court.” 

“What?” Courtney put the coffee back down and reached up to the cabinet to grab her own mug. The action had her crop top rising up even higher. 

Amanda stared, and her mind easily played back the feeling of all that skin under her fingertips. The way every hitch in Courtney’s breath hit her in the back of the throat because they were locked in helpless, needy kisses. 

She really, really needed someone to save her. Immediately. Otherwise, she was going to lift Courtney onto the counter and go to town. 

No one came. Amanda was forced to save herself by breathing extra deep. They were lovers, sure, but they were also friends. She could be normal. She could be calm. They’d been friends a lot longer than they’d been hooking up. It hadn’t even been a week. Amanda could do this. Easily. 

Actually, she couldn’t. 

“Are we still okay?” The nerves surrounding the sudden change in their friendship were normal, right? Checking in with Courtney was the right thing to do. The healthy thing. 

Courtney’s smile stayed in place, her expression sloping into sympathy and affection. “Better than okay.”

“Really?” Again, she wanted to grab and hold and kiss, but she didn’t know what Courtney would be receptive to. They hadn’t talked about what the professional boundaries would be. She settled for smiling wide and reaching down to squeeze at Courtney’s fingers. 

Courtney squeezed right back, but she allowed the touch to linger longer than necessary. 

“Really.” 

She came closer, the gap between them becoming insignificant. Amanda swallowed down the nerves that bloomed to life in her chest. Why was she so nervous. This was Courtney. Courtney, who was very blatantly lifting onto her tiptoes to kiss Amanda on the mouth. 

Oh. 

Oh, shit.

Amanda’s body did all the reacting for her brain. Her hands were instantly splayed at the small of Courtney’s back, her fingers tingling at the feel of being reunited with all that warm skin. Courtney arched into her, arms looping over Amanda’s shoulders. The kiss itself was chaste, maybe. It held no deeper, sexual need or connotation. It was just both of them stealing the smallest, smallest second for the blossoming something between them. 

Amanda let her fingertips press into bare skin more insistently, trying in vain to imprint herself on Courtney somehow. Courtney whimpered into her mouth, and the arms around her tightened. Unfortunately, the kiss ended, but Courtney stayed painfully close. She nuzzled Amanda sweetly, her smile showing all her teeth, her pupils blown out from the quiet desire that was buzzing between them. Amanda’s eyes flicked down to her lips. 

“Oh, fuck. My bad. I didn’t realize…”

The voice didn’t belong to either of them, so they both jumped. Amanda hadn’t even heard the door swing open, but it had, because Shayne was standing there, looking stupidly buff in one of his plain white t-shirts.

Courtney untangled herself, but both of her hands stroked at Amanda’s arms as she did. 

Amanda cleared her throat, not used to feeling awkward around Shayne. He was for all intents and purposes her best friend, and she wanted him to turn around and leave so badly. 

“Morning, Shayne.” Courtney didn’t sound the slightest bit affected. 

Shayne stepped further into the room, and now Amanda could make out the palest blush high on his cheekbones. She laughed at him. He was Shayne, but he was still a man. Seeing two of his attractive female friends pressed into each other must have been exciting. 

“You all right, Shayne?” She asked, teasing, her mood calming down into regular work mode. Must tease Shayne. She clapped him on the back as he went past her to get a mug for himself. 

He flipped her off. She laughed. Courtney settled into a lean against the counter, one hand sliding close to where Amanda was leaning back. Amanda didn’t object to their fingers tangling together on the countertop. 

It was a friendly interaction. An interaction that could’ve happened between them at any given time on any given day. An interaction that in no way implied they were fucking. Which they were. A lot. 

Shayne was pouring his coffee, but he glanced over at them midway, his eyes intense and curious. “Am I the only one who knows about this?”

Amanda waved her free hand dismissively. “Nah. Angela knows. Duh.”  

Angela was the first person she told, actually. Shayne should’ve known that. 

“Of course.” He snorted a laugh. 

“Arasha knows, too.” Court said. 

That didn’t come as a shock, either. 

“Well, that’s the last time I’ll think I’m special.” Shayne joked, sipping at his coffee.

“Why would you ever think that?” Amanda knew it was a slam dunk; it made Shayne nearly spray coffee everywhere. She smiled like she did every single time she made him laugh. It was quite high on her list of favorite things to do. 

Besides, well. She glanced down at Courtney, who looked back up at her with adoration painted onto her own smile. Okay, maybe making Shayne laugh had fallen farther down on her list of favorite things. Below all the things she’d been doing to Courtney and vice versa. 

Nope. Bad thought. They’d get no work done whatsoever if she kept thinking about dragging Courtney off somewhere private. 

The break room door flew open at that exact moment. Angela and the others, all barreling in one behind the other, laughing and talking so loudly that it drove Amanda right out of her head. Her and Courtney made pointed eye contact, but the spell was broken. Something resembling normalcy took over, especially when Angela threw an arm across each of their waists and stepped right in between them. 

“Morning, bitches!”

Amanda laughed at her idiot friend. Angela was so unabashedly Angela. It was one of the most endearing things ever. 

“Jesus, Angela, the volume.” Shayne feigned a pain at his temple. 

“Shut the fuck up!”

Well.

Leave it to Angela to cleanse a room of tension. 

_______

Courtney Miller was a consummate professional, okay. Nothing happening interpersonally between herself and her coworkers was not going to affect the onscreen vibes. For that reason, she sat herself right next to Amanda on the games stage, ignoring Spencer attempting to resituate her. The way Courtney waved him off made Amanda giggle, a sound that sent Courtney’s heart racing like it was behind the wheel of the Mach 5. 

She leaned back casually in her seat just as Amanda’s arm settled across the back of Courtney’s chair. They made knowing eye contact, Amanda’s tongue peeked out between her teeth. Shayne quietly took the seat on the opposite side of Amanda and smirked at the both of them. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Shayne.” Amanda teased. 

The stage was noisy as hell, everyone bustling around to get everything prepared for the actual shoot. Courtney was so used to the cacophony it was nothing more than a low hum. Shayne and Amanda were having a conversation about something they were planning for the podcast. An ‘advice’ episode with cast and crew who needed help with any kind of life problem. 

Courtney couldn’t help but smile at the idea. Shayne and Amanda were adorably sincere in all ways. They were going to give the most heartwarming advice ever. It helped that they both had such similar outlooks on what life was about, something Courtney clocked long before either Amanda or Shayne admitted it. 

What could she say. She observed them both a lot. And she observed Amanda with more than just her eyes. 

No. Not the greatest track to go down right before cameras rolled. 

“What do you think, Court?” Amanda used an elbow to nudge her. 

Courtney burst back into reality, her more inappropriate thoughts about Amanda refusing to subside. Ugh. That was so unfortunate. 

“What do I think about what?”

“The podcast idea, silly!” 

Oh. Right. Duh.

She couldn’t look at Amanda; her mind was too taken with flashbacks of Amanda in her bed, body so pliant and willing, hands and lips and tongue learning Courtney like they were made to do it. 

Looking at Shayne actually didn’t help, either. She’d held the most lowkey of crushes on Shayne for as long as she could remember, and looking at Shayne while vividly recalling getting fucked was whiplash like Courtney had never felt in her life. 

Her stomach bottomed out, the rush of something so intense it nearly knocked her out of the chair. She wondered what her face was doing because Shayne’s brow was furrowing in confusion. 

Courtney swallowed down the wave of arousal that struck her. “Sorry. It sounds like a great idea.”

Amanda rubbed a hand along her shoulders. “You okay, Court?” 

Her eyes met Amanda’s again. God, she was so fucking pretty, even with concern written all over her. “Yeah. I’m good. I’m good.”

Neither of them seemed convinced. 

“You guys, I’m fine.”

Later that day - much later - when she and Amanda are safe in the parking lot away from prying eyes and ears, she’ll admit that she was imagining Amanda all over her while making direct eye contact with Shayne and that it sent her whole world barreling off its axis. 

Amanda just looked at her, a little stunned at the vivid nature of the confession. Her lips pursed, she replied, 

“How long have you been into Shayne?”

Courtney laughed. “Can’t remember when I wasn’t.”

Amanda took that in for a long, long moment, her face not giving a thing away. “And you’re into me.”

It wasn’t a question. Courtney answered, anyway. “Obviously.”

Amanda went very, very quiet. Suspiciously quiet. Courtney could practically see her brain whirring around behind those deep brown eyes. 

“What’s up?” She prodded when the silence went on a fraction too long. 

“What if I’m into Shayne, too?”

Courtney’s eyes widened. She wasn’t all that surprised, really. More so that Amanda was saying it so nonchalantly, like they weren’t discussing both of them being into a person who wasn’t the one they were hooking up with. 

“Are you?”

Amanda shrugged. “It’s kind of hard not to be.”

Courtney shook her head in disbelief. “What are we talking about here?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s helpful, Mandy. Thanks.” Courtney replied, the sarcasm her only defense mechanism.

“I’m sorry.” Amanda said, hands sliding into the pockets of her jeans. “Why don’t you just come back to my place? We can talk about all this there. Or not talk. Whichever.”

Courtney snorted at the invitation. “Okay.”

She crossed the small distance between them and leaned up to press a kiss against Amanda’s jaw. “Drive safe.”

“You, too.” Amanda said, dimpled smile big and adorable. 

That was the night the plan was set in motion. 

[cozylittleartblog]

So is Queen Rouxls's girlhusband or are they both wives

yeah

[lamardeuse]

A note on my latest fic since I'm already getting shitty comments on it (leading to my first blocking of an account on AO3, whoo-fucking-hoo): I am not the kind of author who treats you like a child and spoils the entire plot and eventual ending of a story in the tags. If there is content I know may be triggering and/or upsetting, I always make a note of it in the end notes and point to it in the beginning notes so that people can choose to jump to the end note if they are concerned about potentially triggering content or can avoid spoilers if they so choose.

Want to know what I don't warn for? Whether a relationship that is the primary focus of the story I wrote ends with them exchanging promise rings and riding off into the sunset forever and ever amen. Do most of my fics end that way? Sure. Do all of them? Nope. If this is going to make you sad, then for Christ's sake, go read an author you know will tag the shit out of the story so you don't need to bother reading it. That isn't me.

I'm not engaging in the Buck/Tommy or Buck/Eddie ship wars. I absolutely refuse. It's fanfic, people. It's speculation, it's horseshit, it's horny, it's meant to be fun. And I'm too old for that shit. I have first hand experience with RayV Anon on due South, y'all wouldn't survive in the asylum where they raised me.

[genderqueer-karma]

so i have a gif dump that i plan on releasing soon. however, idk if i should maintag it. normally, i don't because of the mortifying ordeal of being known and because i am hashtag annoying, but i worked really hard on them and there's a lot of them. that being said:

[powderandclay]

Obsessed with playing Mass Effect over and over again like this story will literally never end in anything but tragedy. Shepard might be an asshole or a saint, a caring friend or a hardened soldier, a complex enigma or an open book, and any combination or in between thereof.

And it doesn't matter because Jenkins always dies. And Ash dies, or Kaidan dies. And Shepard dies. And Shepard lives. And your crew dies. And the little boy is shot down. And Palaven burns. And Illium falls. And earth is ripped apart. And Shepard dies.

You can't save them. Nearly a dozen playthroughs of hard work, an endless uphill climb, and even if you get it picture perfect, take every quest, save every hostage and gun down every bad guy, your reward is the ugly choice, the mirror of war: how many lives will you sacrifice to take one more breath? Will you kill the geth you just painstakingly saved for a single inhale on the charred remains of an exploded station? Or will you let the narrative go the way it's meant to and just let Shepard die?

So Shepard lives, or Shepard dies, and the story always ends the same goddamn way. And you queue up Mass Effect 1 again because you have to.

Keep trying. Maybe it'll turn out this time.

[worldlxvlys]

study sesh w bff! matt, but he can’t stay focused bc you’re so innocently distracting. he ends up giving into his deepest darkest fantasies and fucks your brains out

study session

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smutttt, p in v, oral (male + fem receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before ya tap it), rough sex, squirting, spanking, fingering, overstimulation, cursing

a/n: i combined these two cause i thought they’d go well tg, hope ya like it

MATT’S POV

“matt? what the hell are you doing here?”

at the sound of her voice, i whipped my head around to look at her.

my eyes widened, cheeks growing red as i took in her clothing choice, or lack thereof.

she wore nothing but one of my shirts, most likely opting to just wear underwear under it.

the scent of her fruity body wash wafted into her room through the open bathroom door.

“matt?” she asked again, pulling me from my daze.

“your mom let me in for our study session” i answered after clearing my throat awkwardly.

“shit, i completely forgot about that” she spoke, eyes darting to the open backpack that sat beside me.

she quickly walked over to her desk, grabbing her own backpack before joining me on the bed.

“ok, so where should we start?” she asked, crossing her legs and making herself comfortable across from me.

—

she was driving me crazy.

every time she shifted slightly her shirt rode up her thigh, exposing more and more skin.

“matt ? are you paying attention?” she asked, placing her hand on my thigh. it took everything in me not to move it further up.

“um, honestly? maybe we should just look in the textbook” i answered, knowing that no matter what question she just asked, i was too far gone to give her an intelligible answer.

“ok well let me go grab it then, i’m pretty sure i stuck it at the top of my closet in the beginning of the year” she answered, getting up from the bed and moving towards her closet.

i watched as she stood on the tips of her toes, struggling to reach the book.

i should’ve gotten up to help her, but i was too focused on the view i had of her ass when her t-shirt rose up.

not only was her ass on full display, but i also had a perfect view of her red thong.

there was simply no way she didn’t realize that she was fully flashing me in the moment.

was she teasing me on purpose?

or, maybe she just trusted that i’d look away instead of staring at her like a creep.

i felt all of the blood rush to my dick, making a very noticeable tent form in my pants.

deciding to help her before it got worse, i quickly got up and rushed towards the closet just as she finally maintained a firm grip on the textbook.

“got it!” she spoke.

unfortunately for her, when she pulled the thick book down, she also managed to pull down every book underneath it.

the books fell onto her floor, all of them remaining closed except for one.

“shit” she sighed heavily, realizing she would have to put them all back. i knelt down, beginning to help her pick up the books.

“here, just hand them to me. i’ll put them on my desk until we put the textbook back” she spoke as she picked up her own pile, placing them down onto the desk.

i followed her instructions, picking the books up and handing them to her, before stopping when the words of the open one caught my eye.

“i want matt”

i picked the book up, moving it closer to my face to read the rest of the words.

“you want me?” i asked out loud, clarifying the words to make sure there wasn’t some double-meaning i was missing.

she scrunched her eyebrows in confusion for a few seconds, face instantly dropping when she realized what i was reading.

“matt, no!” she spoke worriedly, moving to grab the book from me.

i moved it out of her reach before she had the chance to take it.

“let me read it” i spoke, watching as her eyes widened at my words.

“no, matt-” i placed my hand on her arm, rubbing it softly to let her know i wasn’t weirded out or mad.

“let me read it” i spoke, my eyes bouncing back and forth between hers.

she gave up after that, letting out a small sigh before backing away.

“i want him to…” my voice trailed off, eyes widening as my brain processed the raunchy things my best friend fantasized about me.

i glanced up at her, taking in her embarrassed state, before walking closer to her.

she reacted by walking backwards as i began to read again, “i want him to fuck me so hard that i can’t walk for a week”

i backed her into the desk, a small gasp falling from her mouth as my boner pressed into her thigh.

“i want his head between my thighs”

“i want to know what his pretty face looks like covered in my cum”

“wanna find out?” i asked as i turned her around, bending her over the desk.

“matt!” she squeaked out in surprise as i held her hands behind her back.

“yes or no?” i asked as i pressed my chest to her back, leaning into her as i whispered into her ear.

“yes, yes, please” she moaned out.

i let go of the book, letting it fall back onto the ground while i began to press kisses to her neck.

i lightly nipped at her skin, leaving little marks while she moaned softly under me.

suddenly, there were loud knocks at her door, my hold on her wrists tightening instinctively.

instead of stopping, however, i moved lower to begin leaving kisses on her thighs.

it was like any ounce of self-control i had left my body as soon as i read her words.

“are you guys ok? i thought i heard something fall” her mom spoke through the door.

her breathing grew heavy as my lips got closer and closer to her wetness.

“yeah, just my textbook!” she spoke as quickly as possible in hopes that a moan wouldn’t slip out.

“ok, just making sure” was all her mom said before she retreated from the door.

as soon as she knew her mom was gone, a long moan fell from her mouth.

“quiet, princess. don’t want her coming back, do we?” i asked her, lips brushing the skin of her ass.

“no, just- god, please do something” she whispered frustratedly.

i ran my hand across her ass before giving it a firm slap, making her moan out.

“lose the attitude” i spoke to her.

i pulled her thong down her legs, tapping her ankles lightly. she took the hint, quickly stepping out of them.

“i don’t have an attitude, i just- fuck” she cut herself off with a moan as i shoved my face into her cunt.

i let go of her hands, hooking them around her thighs as i licked a long stripe up her pussy.

her hand automatically flew to her desk, gripping onto it while she cried out.

“god, you taste so fucking good” i moaned against her as i licked up every drop of her wetness, savoring the taste of her on my tongue.

i lapped at her heat, her constant whining fueling me to keep going.

my eyes rolled back as all of my attention went into her pussy.

i was so consumed in it, i could stay there for hours. she was so perfect.

i moved my tongue up towards her clit, sucking and licking it, enjoying the moans that the pleasure pulled out of her.

realizing i was a little too excited, i slowed down a little bit. i needed to take my time and enjoy it.

i began to leave slow, tantalizing licks to her pussy. she squirmed at my teasing, pushing her hips back into my face.

she began to rock her hips back and forth against my mouth, letting out loud moans.

i pulled back, giving her ass another slap, “didn’t i tell you to be quiet?” i asked.

“yes, yeah, i’m sorry. i’ll be quiet, please matt”

i brought my hand to her pussy, spreading around her wetness with the palm of my hand.

i pushed a finger into her, taking her by surprise as her legs began to shake.

i moved the finger inside of her quickly, stretching out her tight hole.

i pushed another finger in, producing a squelching noise as they plunged in and out of her.

“matt, i’m gonna cum!” she cried out mere seconds before her juices shot out of her, splashing onto my face.

“f-fuck” she shivered as her release dripped down my face.

i got onto my feet and turned her to face me, placing my lips to hers in a heated kiss.

she reached down between us, unbuckling my belt without breaking the kiss.

she pulled my pants down, quickly moving her hand to palm me through my boxers.

i groaned softly at that, my head flying back as she applied pressure.

“want you so bad, matt” she whispered while her nose brushed my neck.

“need you inside of me” she spoke as her hand crept into the waistband of my boxers.

i pulled my boxers down, letting them fall to my ankles as she began to stroke me slowly.

after a few pumps, i pulled her hand away and brought it to my lips. i placed a light kiss to her knuckles before hoisting her onto the desk.

“ready?” i asked, searching her eyes for any hesitation.

she nodded her head slightly, looking up at me through her lashes.

“words, baby” i spoke.

“yes, matt. please, please just fuck me”

with that, i placed my hands on her hips and pushed myself into her entrance.

despite how stretched out she was, her walls still hugged my dick tightly, causing me to let out a strained groan as i pushed into her further.

we both let out loud moans as i bottomed out, my dick resting deep inside of her.

her hands flew to her sides, bracing herself on the desk as i began to move inside of her.

i thrusted into her slowly, but deep enough to make her body jolt with each slap of my hips against hers.

my hips collided with the desk under her with each thrust, causing it to thud against the wall harshly.

“m-matt, she’s gonna hear” she cried out between moans.

“you want me to stop?” i asked, raising my brows at her as i continued my movements.

“no!” she spoke loudly, “no, please don’t stop. it feels so fucking good, oh my god” she whined, her head flying back.

“yeah? is this what you think about when we study together?” i asked, only receiving long moans in response.

“you think about me fucking you on this desk? my dick so far into you, you can’t even speak?”

she looked so fucked-out, her eyes hooded and mouth hung open in pleasure. i wasn’t even sure she could hear me until she nodded her head in response.

“or maybe you think about me bending you over it, huh?” she began to moan louder at that, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“do you know the amount of times i’ve thought about seeing you like this?” i asked as i pushed her legs closer to her chest.

“yes, yes, yes, holy shit” she heaved as she held her legs close to her.

“so good for me” i mumbled, reaching between us to rub her clit.

“matt, i’m so close, so close” she whined as her body began to shake.

“yeah? you got it, let go for me, baby. ”

her eyes squeezed shut as she clenched around me, eliciting a deep groan from me as i felt the coil in my stomach tighten.

the feeling of her pleasure coating my length pushed me closer to finishing, causing me to quickly pull out of her.

“fuck, where do you want it?” i asked as i began to pump myself, chasing my orgasm.

she pushed me back slightly, hopping off of the desk and sinking to her knees in front of me.

before i could even process what she was doing, her mouth was on my tip.

“o-oh” i moaned in surprise.

all it took was her sucking on the tip once and i was gone.

my hips bucked forward into her mouth, accidentally pushing myself to the back of her throat.

my hands flew to the desk in front of me, gripping it firmly while i shot my seed down her throat.

she took her mouth off of me, sticking her tongue out to show me that she swallowed everything.

“you’re gonna be the death of me” i spoke as she got to her feet.

before she could respond, there was a loud knocking at the door.

shit.

🤍🤍🤍🤍

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[amywritesthings]

press four for more options. | part two.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.5k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut, alternate universe (modern), sex work, phone sex, dirty talk, dom!levi, light dom/sub, guided masturbation, pet names, nipple play, overstimulation, multiple orgasms Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part one. / part three. | masterlist

2-5-1-2.

It’s an easy enough combination to remember, being Christmas Day and all.

Pressing 2, 5, and 1 is easy. The final '2' makes you second guess yourself.

You’re not sure why you’re panicking. He’ll pick up.

(It’s literally his job, idiot.)

Fuck it.

Your index finger hits the '2' and the hashtag to finalize the combination.

When you hear the line go dead, you tense every muscle in your body.

No breathing.

No blinking.

Just waiting for that silky, sultry siren song to come over and confirm your bias that it’s the single sexiest voice you’ve ever heard.

—but it’s that automated lady you tried to bypass from the menu.

“Please enter your credit card number, followed by the expiration date—”

“Oh, Goddamn it,” you groan, shouldering the phone to shuffle your purse around.

Eventually after some digging, you find your card before she can continue a second loop of her payment spiel. 

You can’t believe you’re legitimately putting your credit card information out there for anyone to steal.

Yet, if Annie’s been doing this for ages, then it ought to be safe.

Right?

After typing in the necessary numbers and confirming they’re correct, you’re so out of your own head that you don’t even realize the line switches from slight static to smooth nothingness.

“So you finally called back.”

“Shit!”

The buttery smooth greeting — or lack thereof — makes you nearly drop your phone.

You gasp and manage to catch the device just in time to hear a chuckle, graveled and low, on the other end.

“And just as jittery as last night.”

“Levi,” you greet breathlessly, straightening your outfit like he can actually see it.

You swear you hear a smile in his voice.

“Hey, baby.”

Oh sweet Jesus.

“Or do you prefer it when I call you Scarlet?”

You prefer literally anything he’ll give you, is what you want to say back, but you don’t want to automatically appear as though you’re ready to be walked like a dog at minute one.

“I’m… fine with ‘baby’,” you confess after a beat, focusing on the swirl of the marble counter below you just to dissociate to his voice.

“Thought so,” he arrogantly states before making this grunting noise, like he’s rolling his body in a chair to get more comfortable. “Are we talking again?"

"Is that alright?"

"You know it is." Levi's voice lifts, softer now. "And how's your Saturday so far?”

“Very mundane and super lackluster,” you admit. “I’m sure you’ve had a much more interesting day than me.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he replies without skipping a beat.

“No?” you ask with a smirk. “I’d say getting people off with the sound of your voice makes for a pretty interesting job.”

“Who said it’s only just my voice?”

Son of a bitch.

The phone shifts from your right shoulder to your left.

“It isn’t?”

He makes a noncommittal hum, and it runs straight to your core. “That's confidential, sweet Scarlet."

"Boo," you joke. "You're no fun."

"You haven't seen me at my fun yet," he corrects. "Speaking of fun: how are you not hungover?"

“The power of heavy tylenol and H2O? Which... I have to apologize that."

"For what?"

"Uh, I pretty much poured my heart and soul out to you last night.”

He chuckles. "I didn't mind it. Feeling any better about that situation?”

“I haven’t really thought about it since last night, so you’re already a miracle worker.”

"Oh?"

"Yeah, no joke."

“Huh." He clicks his tongue. "And what have you been thinking about?”

You say it without realizing you’ve said it out loud:

“You.”

Both ends of the phone go silent.

Your eyes widen, wanting nothing more than to take a pan out of one of the cabinets to bash your head in with anguish. 

“In, like, an interested sense.”

Shit, that isn’t much better.

“An… interested sense,” he repeats, slower this time. His vowels dip deep.

“Oh no,” you bemoan. “Okay. Let me restart: I mean it in like a — you were on my mind? Today, sort of way. So I called.”

“...uh-huh.”

“Because the call ended so quickly!” you add. “I didn’t think it was going to end so abruptly at the fifteen minute mark, but I wasn’t done talking to you, so I called again.”

“You’re shit at asserting yourself, aren’t you?”

His words make you blink twice.

“Huh?”

“You don’t like making decisions or having to explain things,” he replies without judgment. “You think if you want something, then it makes you selfish.”

Ouch.

“Well, when you put it like that,” you reply in a bitter, yet lifted tone of surprise. 

You hear a noise on the other end. A ‘tch’ if you can make it out.

“Sorry," he apologizes. "Too far?’

“No! Too real,” you admit with a small laugh. “And I’m sure you don’t want to play analyst-therapist tonight, so.”

“I’m here to do anything you want,” he reminds, syrup-y sweet. 

“Anything?”

“Mostly anything,” he adds, and there’s a tiny chuckle bubbling between the words that makes your heart flutter. “Can’t hold a tune worth a damn and I don’t know how to speak some languages, so there are limitations.”

You laugh despite yourself, feeling your stress melt.

Then—

A small groan, like his head's tilting backwards. “Damn, I like hearing that.”

You turn away from your kitchen counter, subconsciously padding to your bedroom. “Hearing what?”

“Your laugh,” he explains. “It’s sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“Very.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully.

Dark hair. Gray-ish blue eyes. Sharp nose. High cheekbones.

Fit.

When your eyes flicker to your own bed, you try to picture a version of him waiting there.

He could be leaning back on his elbow, button-down shirt splayed open like a newly-peeled present.

Maybe his legs are parted.

Maybe he stares at you like you’re all he could ever want.

His voice cuts through the fantasy, causing your breath to catch.

“What do you want, baby?”

Then it drops an octave lower.

“...c’mon, be selfish for once.”

For once.

Like he can read your soul through a damn cell phone.

But Levi is right — your entire short-lived relationship with Porco and just about any other man before him has been through a small lens. Fitting in the middle seat just to never make any noise. To bend with the curve rather than against it to create your own path.

It’s just a sex hotline, but for some reason, his words resonate.

Be selfish.

Wasn’t that the point of calling in the first place?

“Anything?” you repeat a second time, much softer.

Levi shuffles on the other line then exhales like he’s getting comfortable.

“What do you need?” he asks, tone low and words slower. 

Purposeful. 

“What do you want?”

You close your eyes, drawing in a slow, steady inhale.

Are you seriously doing this?

No more overthinking.

“Should I... get comfortable?” you ask, too afraid to say what it is that you want.

What you’re about to do.

“Mm, you near a couch or a bed?”

“A bed.”

“Don’t get on it yet,” he orders, “but walk towards it. Bend over it.”

Jesus Christ.

“Bend over it?” you ask with a shaky breath of disbelief.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “You’re home from a long day. I’m home from a long day. All you’ve wanted all day is to have someone tell you what to do, right?”

As much as your face feels like it's on fire, you slowly walk to your bed and put the phone down between your splayed palms.

You press the speaker option to ‘on’, and feel a wave of arousal hit your gut when you hear him sigh through the phone.

“I thought you said you wanted me to be selfish,” you remind, bending over your bed.

“You’re allowing me to take charge,” he retorts with little hesitation. “You’re letting me take care of you the way you always should’ve been taken care of. Your ex-boyfriend has no fucking clue what he’s missed out on.”

You exhale, trying to keep it together.

“Levi—”

“I’m right here, baby,” he huskily promises. “Right here. Not leaving you.”

You feel ridiculous.

You’re so turned on it’s almost laughable.

“You ready to let me take control?” he eventually asks, and you nod like he can see you.

“Yeah, I’m— I think so.”

“I like using a red-yellow-green light system,” Levi hums. “Red’s a hard stop. Yellow is negotiating, a slow down to check in. Green means you’re in.” He pauses, and you lean down closer to your phone, bending further. “Color?”

Even on speaker, his voice rips straight through you.

“Green,” you decide, blurting before your brain can catch up.

“Good girl.”

You’re not going to survive this.

“Are your lights off?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he decides. “I want you to crawl slowly onto the bed now. Can you do that for me?” 

Your hand slides obediently, passing over the phone as you begin to rest one knee on the mattress. It dips with give. 

“All the way up to your pillows, then you can lay on your back — but keep your eyes closed.”

“Okay.”

Eventually you drag your phone with you as you crawl to the headboard of your bed, only to then slowly turn around and drop to your back.

“Are your eyes closed?”

With the phone speaker right at your ear, it almost lends itself to the fantasy of him hovering above you.

His lips dip at the edge of your ear, the static lost to you.

“Yes,” you exhale, relaxing into the bed.

“Good. You’re doing so good for me already, and we’ve barely started.” He pauses, shifting once more. “What’re you wearing, baby?”

“Something so not sexy,” you joke, and it earns a breathy laugh from him.

“Bet you can make anything sexy,” he tells you, and it shoots straight to your lower belly.

“How would you know?” you ask, your hand already reaches for the hem of your shirt. “You’ve never even seen me.”

“No, but I hear you, and it’s fucking delicious.”

Your breath hitches, and you can hear it; the smile in his voice.

“Take everything off, except your underwear.”

“Bra, too?”

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he tells you, and it’s much less breathy. It’s certain, like he wants to check in — make sure you’re just as into it as he sounds. “Would you rather I help you take that off?”

Your brain blanks.

Slowly you push your jeans off first, kicking them to some unknown corner.

Then you rise, ripping your t-shirt off of your body, until you’re sitting in your mismatched bra and panties.

“How would you take it off of me?” you boldly ask, though you can’t quite get rid of the shake of anticipation in your voice.

“Fuck, I’d love to,” he grunts, and your face burns. “I’d be so busy pressing small, slow kisses to your neck. Reach up and touch your neck for me. Feel how I’d kiss it.”

You do.

As surprised as anyone else, you reach up and press your fingers against small parts of your neck, earning him a tiny gasp and noise of want.

“Dragging down to your throat.”

You press two gentle fingers to your skin again, following his path, before slamming your thighs together to try and relieve the heat between your legs.

“My finger would just… slip, right under the right strap of your bra.”

Your fingers dance across your collarbone, slipping your middle finger just under the delicate strap to mirror.

With your eyes closed, the motions lend to an almost out-of-body experience.

Like your hand trailing down your body isn’t yours; it’s his.

You’re his, right now.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, and you nods furiously.

“Very.”

“Good. Let me pull the other one down. I wanna see how pretty my girl is.”

The praises, the way he so easily speaks this way, has you all sorts of flustered.

Slowly you raise your other hand to pull down the strap, and whimper when you tug down as far as you can.

Your breasts spill out over the cup, allowing your hardened nipples to greet the night air.

“Can I touch you?”

The words almost make you open your eyes, as if you’ll see this mystery man hovering over you.

You know he's not here.

You wish he were right here.

“Yes.”

“How do you like to be touched, baby? Show me.”

“Levi,” you whine, allowing your shaky hands to run along your breasts.

You’re afraid, you’re exhilarated, but when you finally pinch the little buds and roll them between your fingers, you’re too far gone to care.

“Fuck—”

“Feels good, huh?” Levi’s own breathy voice interrupts your curse. “You look so beautiful like this. Letting me play with you— God, I could do this for hours—”

“Want you to.”

You don’t even recognize your own breathy tone. 

Hell, you only hear him.

You only feel him.

“Need more,” you pant, and he hums with amusement.

“No,” he replies, “think I’m gonna play with you a little more right here for now.”

You accidentally pinch your nipples, harder, like he’s teaching you a lesson.

“Levi.”

“What, is my girl getting impatient?”

His girl.

You don’t even know him, but you’d sure as hell like to be.

(How easy is it, for you to fall so fast from your judgmental high horse when Annie first slipped you this number — only for you to be moaning on your bed, hands groping and kneading your breasts, for a man you didn’t know?)

“Y-You said,” you stammer, “to be selfish, and I want—”

“Shh, I’m gonna take good care of you, okay?” Levi interrupts on the other end. “But you have to do something for me, too.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t want you holding back on me. No shyness. No second guesses. I want you, I want to hear what I do to you. Is that understood?”

You can’t take it.

Your one hand leaves your chest to skim down to your belly, unable to wait any longer.

“I want you to touch me,” you hiccup.

“Yeah?”

His voice wavers in the response before it strengthens. Demands.

“I want those panties gone first. Take them off and spread your knees. Feet flat on the bed.”

No need to be told twice; you hastily pull your panties down your hips, your knees, until they pool at one of your ankles.

Your knees knock together before spreading, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I want to touch you, too, baby.” Levi swallows, coating his throat. “How wet are you for me?”

Fingertips run past your lower belly to touch the apex of your thighs, gasping with surprise and relief when you feel that familiar electricity.

“Really fucking wet,” you admit.

The groan he emits is delicious. “Fuck.”

For a moment, you feel completely out of your depth. 

This is meant to be a sex hotline, but there are lines blurred in your mind. Something about the sheer image of him leaning back into his chair, fucking a fistful of his cock while he has a phone operator headset against his ear, only turns you on that much more.

“If we had time, I’d spend all night memorizing what you taste like. What you feel like. How you let go — for me, only for me.”

“Only for you,” you promise, unable to stop yourself from drawing circles over your clit.

You moan, head bent back against your pillow.

“Fuck, you’re touching yourself, aren’t you?” he asks, and his voice seems less controlled now. It’s got a hint of raggedness, and it only quickens your pace. “You feel amazing, you know that? Such a pretty pussy, all spread and wet for me—”

“Shit, Jesus, Levi,” you gasp, knowing that you’re not going to last long.  You’re too wound up from the night before. “If you keep talking like that—”

“What, are you gonna come for me?” Amusement tickles the question. “Oh, you can come for me, baby, but I’m gonna need at least two from you tonight.”

Your fingers press a little harder to your clit, and you keen. 

“Wh– At least?”

“As if I’d ever be satisfied with only one,” he murmurs. “No, I wanna watch you come apart. Feel it on my fingers with those cute little contrac—”

That’s it.

You moan louder than you expected, the taut bowstring suddenly snapped in half. 

You arch off the bed, relentlessly rubbing your fingers against your body to ride out the insane orgasm that you — that Levi has given you.

Even if you’re blissed out, you hear it on the receiving end:

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Fuck, you sound amazing. I know it’s gonna be tough, but keep going for me, okay? Don’t stop.”

“It’s sen– ha, sensitive!” you whimper, wanting to stop your hand.

“Mm-mm, you said you’d be good. Be selfish, baby. Give me two.”

“But Levi!”

Everything is on overdrive.

Your hand; your body; your mind.

You imagine he’s hovering over you, working you with his hand with a near-sadistic relentlessness.

As you battle your own refractory period, your toes curl, teeth clenched.

You want to be good.

You want to be so good.

And somewhere in that overwhelming intensity, you feel it: the ebb and flow of pleasure returning, crawling through your veins and forcing you to not give up.

To give this to him.

Then you hear it: panting.

As if he’s getting off to this himself. Your eyes snap open, wide, to an empty room. 

When your cheek turns to the phone, you confirm that’s what you hear:

Ragged breaths, albeit softly, with added grunts of control. 

Like he’s holding back.

Something about that image of him in a chair, his hand relentlessly pumping his cock in time with your hand, your whimpers and moans, does damage.

“I need— mm— want— please.”

“I’m right here, baby,” Levi promises, though his voice is weaker. You can even hear him swallow again. “Right fucking here, wanna hear you cum so bad.”

Maybe you really were pent up enough for two, because soon you’re slipping — falling — into that blissful nothingness while your body clenches on itself, clit fluttering from a second release.

It’s less intense, but that doesn’t make it any less good.

Everything throbs in your body as you come down, panting, with a slight sheen of sweat on your skin.

You turn to your phone, totally gone in the bliss of the aftermath.

Levi has grown silent as well; only light puffs of air come through the speaker now.

“Feeling better?” Levi asks with a hint of pride in his voice.

“Shut up,” you answer with a gentle laugh of your own. “I’m… shit. I guess that’s why they pay you the big bucks.”

That statement gets Levi to laugh, and your heart feels twice as full.

“That’s one way of pillow talk, I guess.”

The man pauses.

“Are you alright?”

As if he’s truly concerned, worried about your wellbeing.

You don’t allow yourself to fall for it, not completely.

This is his job — even if it felt so real, in the moment.

“Much better,” you promise, smiling to yourself.

“Happy to help,” he hums, his voice returning to that stormy swirl of seduction and softness.

The sobering reality of an empty bedroom should deter you, but all you can do is smile.

(When is the last time you genuinely felt giddy? Excited? Satisfied?)

“Hey, Levi,” you murmur eventually, slowly sitting up to unhook your bra and toss it away. No need to keep it on.

“Yeah, baby?”

You’ll never get over the way he sounds when he calls you that.

It’s permanently stuck to your frontal lobe, obscuring any other logic or reality.

“Am I still allowed to call?”

“Allowed?”

“Yeah, even though we…”

“What, you think you get one experience and your membership is up?”

Levi chuckles, shifting in his seat — or bed — or wherever he is.

“You can call me anytime you want.”

“Any?”

“Between company hours, yeah.”

“Even to talk?”

“Of course,” he answers, softer this time. “Always to talk. Go get some rest.”

“Mm,” you mumble, turning on your side as exhaustion takes over. “I will, but only because I want to and I’m being selfish.”

It surprises you to hear him laugh again, but it’s louder now.

More prominent. 

As if he genuinely enjoyed your joke.

Get your head out of the clouds, girl, is what you want to say to yourself, but you can’t be bothered to care.

“Good. You earned it.”

A noise emits from your tired throat to acknowledge him, too sleepy to formulate a real sentence.

Then his voice drops to a whisper, for your ears and your ears alone.

“Goodnight, baby.”

You press the ‘end call’ button and fall into the deepest sleep you’ve had all year.

.

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading part two of P4! This is insane. I still cannot believe the feedback I got in part one. Seriously, you all made my June. I hope this next part has satisfied your curiosity of how Levi would be a hotline operator.

Thank you for likes, and even more love to those who choose to reblog this to help spread the word of this series or reply in the comments. ilu xo

[catsukiiee]

# "ANAL, RIGHT?"

college student!tenya iida x gn!reader.

content: anal [ obvi ].

you can tell where i slowly start losing my mind. also, this is still very much in the quirk universe he's just in college now.

You and Iida have always been close, he was the first person you went to when it came to studying. His constant seriousness and your lack thereof was a perfect combination for your friendship.

But things took a wild turn when you randomly brought up wanting to try out anal. It was completely out of the blue, while you both were just relaxing in his bedroom. You had your legs resting on top of his waist while he laid sideways, engrossed in a book.

"I'm sorry?" he said, looking up at you as if you had lost your mind. You couldn't help but feel your ears burn as you stared back at him.

"Have you ever thought about it? Like... I don't know how to explain it," you rambled nervously, avoiding eye contact with Iida. His intense gaze was always there, but it felt even more tense in that moment.

"So, you want to be fucked in the ass, is that what I'm hearing?" he said bluntly, causing you to pause in the middle of your rambling. You winced at his directness. "Why did you have to say it like that?" you grumbled.

He shrugged. "I'm not the one asking for it up the ass."

"Tenya Iida!" You grabbed a pillow to hit him, his boldness making you flustered. But before you could strike, he swiftly pinned your wrist.

Wow..

You didn't even realize how quickly he moved to hold you down, your back against his bed with your wrists secured above your head.

"Iida.." Your words faded as you locked eyes with him. He gazed at you with an unfamiliar expression, his tight shirt revealing his accelerated breath.

"Anal, right?" He spoke calmly, sending chills down your spine.

"Haha..Iida?.."

"Iida.." Flustered tears brimmed in your eyes as you turned to look at him over your shoulder. His full attention was completely focused on his fingers, which were knuckle deep inside you. "Iida..." you whimpered pathetically, the sound immediately grabbing his attention.

Instead of responding with words, he leaned in closer, his body towering over yours as he passionately kissed you, his hand supporting his weight while the other continued to gently stretch your backside.

"You're stretching me out so much." You breathlessly breathed out into the kiss, blinking your tears away when he leaned away. "That's the point." He murmured softly, curling his fingers just as he spoke making a startled cry of pleasure leave you.

"Come over here and lie on your back." He guided you by the waist, assisting you in rolling onto your back, placing a pillow under your hips for comfort before stepping away from the bed. He remained silent, gazing down at your bare body, his glasses catching the moonlight seeping through the curtains.

"Stop staring." You murmured, reaching your hand towards him. "Just make love to me instead."

You couldn't help but wonder if saying "making love" was the right choice of words in this moment. Throughout the entire time, he stared at you with hunger in his eyes, making you feel like his prey. As he gently placed his glasses on the nightstand, his hands moved down to his pants, slowly undoing them. You couldn't help but be captivated by every little detail - the way his arm muscles flexed, the movement of his fingers on the strings of his sweatpants, and those damn veins that were driving you crazy. It wasn't until his sweatpants and boxers were off in one swift motion that you noticed the impressive bulge.

The sight of him made your thighs tremble. He may not have been exceptionally long, but the thickness and slight curve more than made up for it.

The bed creaked as he climbed onto the bed. With one hand pleasuring himself and the other applying lube, his intense gaze locked onto yours for a brief moment.

"Are you su—" He started to ask, but you cut him off.

"Don't even bother asking if I'm sure. You were just knuckle deep inside me a few minutes ago," you replied, exasperated, hiding your face with your arms.

A soft chuckle escaped Iida's lips, causing your heart to race even faster.

"I want to see your face," he murmured, and you quickly uncovered your face, meeting his gaze with a flushed expression.

"There you are," he murmured, his voice now huskier and filled with desire. His usual polished appearance was completely gone, replaced by a wild and untamed look. You couldn't help but love it.

"Stay right there," He whispered gently, his fingers coated in lube as he effortlessly slid two fingers inside you. The sound that escaped your lips left you feeling a bit embarrassed, but Iida only smiled mischievously in response.

"You've been so impatient this whole time," He remarked, his fingers curling deep inside you. "This isn't your first time," He stated matter-of-factly with a tilt of his head his head, some of his hair falling over his eyes.

With each stroke of his thick fingers, your mind turned to mush. "I have no idea what you're talking about," you moaned, your hips lifting off the pillow beneath you.

"You know exactly what I mean," He hummed, sliding his fingers out to press the tip of his cock against your asshole. "It's so shameful," He continued, watching your reaction as he slowly entered you.

Your entire body burned under his intense gaze as you turned your head to the side, tightly closing your eyes and lightly biting down on your knuckles. "Just be quiet," you whimpered.

"Make me." His warm breath tickling your ear as he whispered startled you, the sudden proximity caught you off guard, his presence so close yet unnoticed. Without warning, he began to slowly slide himself inside you, each inch sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your back arched instinctively, and your hips pressed against the pillow beneath them. The sensation was overwhelming, leaving you speechless.

Both of you gasped in unison as he filled you completely, his balls pressing against your ass. "You're still so tight, even after all the preparation," he moaned, his fingers spreading across your stomach, where a noticeable bulge formed.

He stared down at you with hooded eyes, staying completely still so you could adjust but you adjusted long before he put his dick inside you. "The fuck are you doing?" You groaned out. "Fuck me right now Tenya Iida."

Your command was immediately met with him pulling halfway out then thrusting right back in, leaving you winded and him grunting lowly. "Yes." You breathed out, pressing one of your hands against his chest as he began moving at a fast pace, his thrusts long and deep every. single. time.

Both of his hands strongly gripped your hips, pressing you down into the pillow and mattress, his thrusts becoming almost animalistic; rough and fast. The erotic sounds of your skin slapping together mixed with both of your grunts and groans.

"Mmph fuck." He groaned out, moving one hand from your hips to grab at the bed covers, eventually his other leaving to grab at the bed covers as well. You moved your own hands up to grab at his back, shamelessly clawing at him, marking him like he was yours. "Jesus." He moaned out again, pausing to readjust himself before beginning to slam into you with newfound roughness.

"Fuck!" You gasped out, quickly stifling any other sounds by sinking your teeth into his shoulder, but even that didn't stop your moans from being heard.

Your elbows sank into the squeaky bed as you rested your face on your arms, feeling halfway between awake and asleep. Your body trembled with exhaustion, desperately needing rest.

Iida stood behind you, gripping your hips firmly with one hand while the other held your face down by the back of your neck. Your moans escaped loudly and breathlessly as he relentlessly pounded you. Who knew he had so much stamina? How many different positions had he put you in? And how the hell did he know so many?

No matter how many positions he tried, you soon realized that doggy style was definitely his favorite. Something seemed to ignite inside him the moment you got on your hands and knees. You couldn't even remember how many times you had climaxed from the intensity.

"I'm about to cum!" you gasped out, your moans intermingling with each breath. You reached back with one hand to press against his stomach, but he immediately caught your wandering hand and folded your arm against your back. "Then cum," he grunted.

Just like before, your body tensed as you climaxed once again, trembling moans escaping your lips. "Cum inside me," you gasped out as you returned from the depths of your own orgasm. The sensation of him twitching inside you made your body tremble all over again.

"Iida, please—" Your sentence was abruptly cut off as Iida pulled your head back by your hair, just enough for him to press his lips against yours. The hand that had held you by the back of your neck now supported you by your chin. Your moans and his heavy grunts blended together, his thrusts becoming short and messy until he came inside you for the seventh time.

Very slowly and very gently he slowly removed himself from you completely, his hands rubbing comforting circles on your ass the moment your body fully relaxed into the messy bed.

"Never again." You groaned out. "You're fucking insane Iida."

"Anything else you need?" Iida called out, poking his head into the bathroom to see if you needed anything when you didn't respond.

"Nah." You let out a sigh, sinking further into the water until your mouth was submerged, surrounded by the sweet scent of strawberry bubbles.

After the seventh and final round, Iida took his time cleaning you up and making sure you were alright. Once you reassured him that you were perfectly fine, he finally backed off and went to prepare a candlelit bubble bath for you.

He had been coming to check up on you more than once now. As much as you appreciated it, you just wanted to enjoy your bubble bath after almost seeing the pearly gates of heaven.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Iida, if you don't leave me alone, I swear I'll kill you."

"Alright!"

this started off as a "tenya iida would be the type of guy to get addicted to anal" then it just..kept going 💀.

[gardnhee]

edging with choi soobin !

𝜗𝜚 warning(s). pure FILTH, edging (duh), fluff, cursing, combination of praise and degradation, switch!soobin, yn is a little mean :(, soobin is a mess, cum eating, sloppy bj, soobin begs like… ALOT, intentional lowercase - lmk if i missed anything !

𝜗𝜚 switch!soobin x switch!afab!reader

𝜗𝜚 song rec(s). if you think im pretty - artemas, mmmh - kai

𝜗𝜚 wc. 1k

𝜗𝜚 note. yes this is absolute filth, no i am not ashamed. enjoy! ૮₍˶ •. • ⑅₎ა ♡

“f-fuck!” soobin whimpers as you pull your hand away for the nth time today, “baby please…” he breathed, “let me cum, please…” you give him a sly smile, earning a frustrated groan from him.

“you wanna cum?”

his head immediately snaps back to you, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “y-yes..” you grab his dick again, angry red from all the stimulation- or lack thereof- it's been receiving.

soobin moans, the back of his hand placed on his forehead while the other grips the sheets beneath him. his chest heaves, entirely naked as you’re fully clothed. at first he thought it was unfair, but right now that’s the least of his worries. he just wants to cum.

he doesn't know how long you’ve been on your knees, or how long he’s been sitting on the edge of the bed; all he knows is that the familiar coil is building up again. “t-thank you … princess!” soobin strains, violently shaking as his orgasm is right around the corner. within reach. it’s right there…all he needs to do is-

you take your hand away.

he pouts.

“what the hell-!”

“i didn’t say i was going to let you cum, i simply asked if you wanted to cum.”

soobin scowls at your snarky remark, both hands gripping the grey sheets, knuckles turning white.

you snort, “so pathetic.” his cock twitches as he whines, “such a whore.” you grimace, slapping his cheek gently. with your fingers now digging into both sides of his face, you smash your lips together, drinking up every unholy sound shared in between.

to say you were taken aback was far from what you actually felt. your boyfriend - now reduced to a moaning, drooling mess- didn’t believe you could get him to this state…oh he was terribly wrong.

“you … what?”

“i want you to take the lead today, yn.” soobin stared at you with intent, “i want to see what you can do.” he smirks, leaning over the table, dinner long forgotten.

“are you underestimating me, choi soobin?”

“hmmm, maybe? but you can always prove me wrong..” his eyes travel to your shared bedroom, jutting his chin towards it.

and that’s how you ended up here, straddling him as his hard on rests on your stomach, standing tall and proud as it desperately awaits its release.

“baby - mff - please…” tears are brimming his eyes.

“hm? please what?” you taunt him, you always taunt him, and he curses himself for liking it more than he could admit.

“i need it … please.” soobin hiccups, tears now falling from his lash line. you bite your lip as you feel his hands squeeze your ass. he just looked so…fucking good.

disheveled blonde hair, a sheer coat of sweat covering his body, and drool pooling at the corners of his mouth. just a mess. a moan inducing mess. you’re nothing away from handing him the reigns and letting him use you however he damn well pleased.

you sigh, “fine. fine! i’ll let you have it just this once.” he eagerly smiles, hugging you tight as he presses his face into your chest.

“thank you…” soobin’s tears seep into your - his - shirt, making you shudder as they made contact with the skin underneath.

“i was going to walk out on you just like you do to me, but i’m feeling generous today.” he playfully gasps as you reveal your initial plan, kneeling down between his thighs once more. you quietly wince as the pain flourishes again, spreading along your leg muscles considering you’ve been putting pressure on them for hours.

you grab his dick, heavy and hot in hand. one thing about your boyfriend, he’s big. like…big. making space for him in your mouth was always a challenge no matter how many times you’ve done just that; you’re beyond grateful that he guides you through it with small, breathy praises and coos.

“yeah…just like that…careful…” soobin’s voice turned husky, propping himself on his elbows as he watched you bob your head. his eyebrows knit together in pure concentration, relishing in the intense pleasure. teeth sink into his swollen lips, holding any and all noises from slipping.

you pop him out of your mouth, “don’t hold back, you haven’t until now…” his cheeks turn bright red, nodding obediently.

“good boy.” soobin gulps, following your every movement. you wrap your lips around his shaft, “ah!- be careful i’m sensitive…” he utters, body continuously shaking as you sink your head until your nose taps his pubic bone.

“f-fuck im close…”

you hum in approval, greedily ripping a loud hiss from his throat. “you’re s-so fucking…” he starts, head falling back, “so fucking good, baby…” hand flying up to your head, he pushes you down, gag emanating from your sore throat as more saliva dribbles down your chin and onto his base.

you swirl your tongue, feeling every prominent vein that basically pulsates to the touch. “‘m cumming…!” soobin announces, trembling as his orgasm hits him like a wave. incoherent words that you doubt could ever become proper sentences.

you smile as his load hits your throat. “don’t swallow, dollface.” he leans forward, cupping your cheeks, “open.” the blonde haired boy demands, “mmmh.” he smiles, kissing you passionately. the older male smirked against your skin as his juices fall on his tongue. the whole act of cum eating was so intriguing to him- beyond arousing, he thought.

“c’mere.” he wraps his arms around your waist, manhandling you to sit on him again. “it’s your turn, yeah?” your boyfriend says, eyes zeroing in on your neck, then your collarbones. “by the way, you look so sexy in my shirt.” he connects his lips to your supple skin as you feel yourself relax under his hold.

“soobin?”

“hm?”

“i love you.”

he pulls back, beaming smile tugging at his lips, “oh, baby, i love you more.” he gives you a quick peck.

“here, lay down,” he instructs.

“what are you planning?” you frown, brows quirking up in wonder.

“i want to return the favor.”

you shake your head, “no baby, it’s okay. i did this out of pure pleasure. i don’t expect anything back.”

“you sure, love?”

“yes, soobinnie. i want to cuddle.”

he lays in bed with you, completely disregarding the fact that he’s sweaty and naked. but you didn’t mind as you lie your head on his firm chest, falling asleep to his steady heartbeat.

© GARDNHEE 2024, do not copy, modify, or upload on other platforms

𝜗𝜚 big thanks from the bottom of my heart to my amazing proofreader @heartryuu 🤍🤍

𝜗𝜚 this was mainly a smut practice, im not the best at it just yet but i do intend to practice more. also im sorry if the ending felt rushed 🙁 i wrote it in a hurry!!! please like, comment, and reblog. i would highly appreciate that 🫶.

𝜗𝜚 taglist. @stvrliighttt @strawbvrrie @haob1ni (lmk if you’d like to be added to my taglist!!)

[zeroslashsix]

Following my Gambit post, I love love love the way Rogue's powers are handled in X-Men Evolution. Like Gambit, Rogue tends to have a certain set of 'roles' when she's in a show/movie: she's focused on inner torment about her powers, on being a Spicy Southern Belle, or her romantic connections. Which is to say, her stories are usually about emotions and relationships, which is fine, I love those parts of her as much the rest. But if she's not fighting, her powers are only really viewed through a lens of how she feels about them, and how they impact her ability to connect with others.

And here's X-Men Evolution, fully leaning into the fact that Rogue’s power is one of the most dangerous in the entire show. I love the s3 ep "Self-Possessed" so much because it takes the brakes off her, and really commits to the idea that stacking powers is catastrophic when you consider she can wield multiple omega-level powersets at the same time. Her main limitation is that she doesn't want other personalities in her head, she limits her power usage because she just doesn't like it, and yeah, totally fair, but Rogue could absolutely wake up one day, go through the mansion and decide to be an omega squared. X-Men Evolution is about teenagers who are still figuring out their abilities, even at the end of the series when they're a year (two years?) older. By the finale, they have more control and training, but they are absolutely still growing into adulthood and have not reached full potential.

Which is why I think "Self-Possessed" is such a fascinating look at Rogue's powers. Every iteration of Rogue imposes a time limit on her absorption, meaning that any powers she absorbs will only stay with her for a short time. But in that episode, when she's succumbing to all those personalities in her head, her time limit stops existing. She can access powers for months, maybe even years after the initial absorption. Mystique's powers couldn't have given Rogue that ability; the only way Rogue could do such a thing is if that potential already exists inside of her. This implies that when she absorbs a power, that power stays inside her as long as the personality does, and her "time limit" is just a matter of control, or lack thereof.

This seems to be backed up by the s3 finale, where Mesmero and Mystique mind control Rogue to gather powers, and Rogue proceeds to SWEEP the X-Men, Brotherhood, Acolytes, and Magneto in less than 24 hours. By the end of it, she seems fully capable of using any and all their powers at will, ignoring any sort of time limit. Mesmero can mind control others, but he can't enhance them. He cannot give someone powers they don't already possess. The only reason Rogue could do all that is because she was already capable of it, and the fact Mesmero could mind control this out of her seems to imply that Rogue's limitations are entirely self-imposed, mostly mental/emotional, or maybe a lack of experience. (Similar to the season four finale where Rogue seems to use Leech’s power better than he does, probably just because he’s a little kid and she’s an adolescent so has a better grasp on powers in general)

Like, no wonder Mystique and Destiny wanted her powers. No wonder Magneto was so thrilled to have her in the ranks in the first season. No wonder so many people in the world want to use her; she is the all-mutant, the living multi tool that can gather multitudes of power in one place and then combine them. The only reason she isn't considered omega-level is pure technicality; in terms of destruction she could actually lay down, Rogue is absolutely as dangerous as plenty of omegas. The requirements for an omega are 1) infinite power, and 2) limitless power. Rogue has the first one; she can stack an infinite number of powers. But she lacks the second; all her powers must come from the outside, and she cannot generate them herself. But if she has access to multiple omega powersets like she does in Self-Possessed, that technicality kind of stops mattering once the punches actually start flying.

Which all leads into Rogue's main emotional journey through X-Men Evolution, which is perhaps my favorite she's ever had: being used. That's why she was adopted. That's why she was raised being unable to touch, being lied to by both her moms. That's why she was taken into the Brotherhood, and it's why Mystique will never leave her alone. Extra fascinating because after the reveal in season one that Mystique is Kurt's mother, Mystique leaves Kurt completely alone for the rest of the series, while simultaneously stalking and manipulating Rogue. Why the difference? Because Kurt is not a useful tool. Not compared to Rogue. And I think Rogue sees that difference, which makes for such a juicy dynamic when Kurt is so interested in actually loving Mystique, for insisting that Rogue should forgive their mother and 'let hatred go,' because he genuinely thinks that anyone can be saved with enough love. Whereas Rogue, who has seen Mystique's 'love' up close for her whole life, is desperately trying to get away from that, with good reason.

One of the reasons I wish we’d had more seasons, or at least more episodes in the last season, is how seamlessly Rogue’s feelings about her powers flowed into her feelings around being used, her feelings around family, and being dehumanized to the point of mind-wipe by her own mother. Yes she’s sad about the no-touching thing, but that’s nothing compared to being seen as a literal object in the eyes of others, because her powers are utterly perfect—for someone else to use. Which flows into questions of bodily autonomy, of who her powers “belong to” vs. who they “should belong to.” Especially considering that Rogue is only at full power when she loses control/is under someone else’s control, which could lead someone to conclude, “Well of course Rogue should be under someone’s control, preferably mine. She’s so powerful when someone else is controlling her, and so weak when she controls herself. It’s honestly such a waste for Rogue to be her own person when she could be so much more. She needs to be used to reach her full potential.”

In a perfect world, we’d have way more X-Men Evo than we got. More seasons, more episodes, more time to explore whatever the hell Rogue had going on. And if I was allowed to pick, I would have loved to see Rogue with a character arc of self-ownership. In particular, it would be so cool to see her powers develop to the point she can have a “Self-Possessed” crisis and control it, fully aware of herself and all the powers she holds. I’d love to see her use those powers for her own benefit, on purpose, independent of both her mother and the X-Men. I’d love to see a self-serving Rogue in the XMenEvo. Not necessarily evil (though it would be a fascinating villain arc) but a Rogue who chooses selfishness as an act of rebellion. Who can use all those powers simultaneously, consciously, and disobediently. Vengeance, maybe? Or something that heightens humans’ fear of mutants? I’d love to see Rogue become inconvenient to the X-Men, at the very least, either physically or philosophically. Certainly nothing so dire as the Phoenix saga, but something that uses her powers to their fullest extent. (Damn could you imagine Rogue as the Horseman of Death if this went in the opposite direction. How fucking overpowered would Death!Rogue be, how the hell would the X-Men deal with that)

Anyways. Fanfiction is the folklore of the now or whatever. And XMenEvo was already a crazy high school AU anyway.

[actually-factually-anonymous]

Ladybug Vs Avatar's use of the supporting cast and the problem thereof.

I'm not sure if this has been covered before, but there's a serious problem with Marinette being the be-all end-all of everything in Miaculous.

And it's not just because "she's stressed" or "it's all on her". Her being the most important, talented and plot-relevant character in every situation is.

Let's make a comparison to the Gold Standard:

In Avatar the Last Airbender, Aang is the axis of the story. He holds incredible powers beyond anyone else, can bend every element and could conceivably end the entire conflict that plagues his world with relative ease- which he eventually does.

However, for 99% of the story he cannot do so. Because Aang is untrained, he cannot access that divine win-button of the Avatar State at will, and using it carried enormous risks to himself and those around him- making it functionally unusable for common conflicts. Furthermore while he does technically have the capacity to use all four elements, he had only mastered one and needed to learn the remaining three.

Indeed, Aang has outright difficulty with learning Earthbending despite his innate talents and while he's a quick study for the other two, he doesn't demonstrate the same effectiveness with water and fire as Katara and Zuko.

This means that Aang cannot do certain things as well as the others in his team. This means that for the majority of the story, even though his first and preferred element provides him with useful abilities" Aang has weaknesses that he needs others to cover and provide for.

Enter Katara, Sokka, Toph and Zuko.

Katara is a waterbender who teaches Aang and later advances her powers to include the all-important power of healing and the disturbingly effective (though situational) Bloodbending.

Toph is an earthbender who is also one of Aang's teachers, and whose tremor sense later allows her to both detect liars and invent Metalbending.

Sokka is seemingly just the comic relief normie. However his technical mindset allows him to serve as the general of the group, and even plan and lead in that role for entire armies later in the show.

Even Zuko who joins later and becomes less a teacher but a fellow student alongside Aaang in firebending is a skilled infiltrator and melee weapon expert. (This is less of a case than the others since it's not used as much, but it's more of a concrete example than his insights into the fire nation and his potential utility as a replacement Fire Lord).

They each provide far more than those short summaries, but it's important to note that in each case, even when Aang does learn the elements and starts growing into his role as the Avatar: he never gains the full range of abilities that his team offers. He never assumes the fully strategic mindset of Sokka, and even though it's downright implausible that no Avatar before him never learnt healing, he never demonstrates that ability or any Metalbending prowess even in the Avatar state.

There's also the enemy trio of Azula, Ty Lee and Mai. Azula is a powerful firebending genius, but Mai's prowess with her throwing weapons are a close match- and Ty Lee's chi-blocking can outright cripple enemy benders for any given fight when combined with her insane agility: something that not even Azula can do with her firebending. They are an incredibly dangerous combination and when Azula loses them, she becomes far less effective for their absence.

In both teams despite the leader being a powerful, talented bender who is objectively the strongest person on their respective side: there's no doubt about each member of the team contributing something that said leader cannot.

-

Now let's look at Miraculous:

Marinette is the "Greatest Ladybug" of all time despite being fourteen, only having had the earrings for less than a year, and having a list of predecessors that go back literally thousands of years and include Joan of Arc.

She is also the Guardian of the Miracle Box. Specifically she is the Guardian of The Mother Box that is the most important of all the boxes, despite there being at least a full Temple's worth of actually trained candidates somewhere in Tibet who should be far and above more capable than her or her mentor Fu. However, her supposed superior Su-Han seems entirely convinced that she's already surpassed any teachings his order has by how often she breaks said teachings in his face only for him to roll over like a dog. There's not been a single time when Marinette has been confronted by some shortcoming in her responsibilities as a Guardian where she has had to learn anything from the multi-millennia old Order of Guardians.

Marinette has also worn almost every single Miraculous in her Box at the same time, a feat that supposedly risked serious harm to her but merely made her woozy for an afternoon (if that). As of the season five Finale, she has also unified her earrings with her partner's ring: a scenario that in earlier seasons seemed to imply great risk: yet she was able to use the powers flawlessly.

As Ladybug, she is also the lone hero who has unlocked any new advanced powers with her Miraculous (unless you also include the arbitrary "adulthood" that she and Chat Noir achieved that allows them multiple uses of their Miraculous before detransforming), and on the occasions when she's used anyone else's powers has shown no sign of being any less capable than they are with them.

Ladybug does everything as well if not better than everyone else.

Marinette can not only unify with any Miraculous she needs for a given mission, she can use the powers as effectively as their "dedicated holder" can and without any restrictions. Unlike the majority of the cast who are still under the child-power limit. She can even unify with multiple miraculous at the same time without any drawbacks.

And without those drawbacks, without anyone on the cast being able to use the power of their Miraculous more effectively than Marinette: everyone else on the team is more or less superfluous.

Sure, Marinette has tossed out the Miraculous to her team like candy now. But when you get down to it: the real lesson that she should have learnt from Strikeback to just put some damn security on her Yo-yo/The Box. Because this just means that she has to wait for the hero in question to show up when she could have just pulled off whatever plan she has in mind herself.

And that superfluous label includes Chat Noir.

As frustrating as it is to come to the this conclusion: as of right now, there's no real reason for Adrien Agreste to be anything but a temporary holder. Certainly you can point to his experience with Plagg's power, and a few examples that seem to imply he can do more with it (in his second outing he was able to reconstruct part of the Eiffel Tower into a makeshift extension to catch someone from). Things that imply that if he perhaps received any actual training in the show like Marinette did from Fu, any guidance whatsoever from the Order or their Grimoire he might be able to achieve more.

But there's no solid evidence to expect that Marinette wouldn't be as effective, and the narrative precedent does not lend itself to the idea that anyone could overshadow Ladybug as a holder even of their own Miraculous. If anything, the sheer ability Marinette showed as Bug Noire implies that her having a partner instead of just keeping the ring herself is a detriment to any given situation.

If you can justify exposing the ring to potential capture in the first place considering that there seems to be no requirement to do. By all rights the practical thing to do is just keeping Plagg in the box instead of risking reality.

Of course we wanted to be generous, Adrien could still be of some use. He's the resident meatshield and narrative jobber. So long as he has a Miraculous he could continue faithfully serving in those roles, eating up mind-control beams and taking hits for Bug Noire so she can save the day as usual.

But everyone else on the Miraculous team might as well turn in their furry super-suits and go home.

-

You couldn't get a more black and white depiction of the value of others outside of the protagonist. in Avatar, Aang is literally a semi-divine being who still needs to be humble and learn while the others around him still have useful special talents and prowess that he can't simply attain at will.

While in Miraculous, there's only one person of actual true competence. From Paris to Shanghai, Marinette alone is the capable one- barring the odd episode in the limelight (Alya and Felix stand up and take a bow. Adrien can stay seated).

There is a word for a character that is impossibly more capable than any other in spite of all reason and logic. And Marinette is increasingly fitting that mold as the show goes on. There's also a term for characters that ultimately contribute nothing good or bad to a story; wasted space. You can't have an entire ensemble of characters as part of the cast and have them provide nothing if they're supposed to have even a smidge of narrative value without making them something the story would be better off without.

Just as you can't just have one person at the centre of everything, make them capable of everything and not eventually have the story they're in turn into (at best) a power fantasy.

And it's a shame. Because Miraculous seemed like it could have been a lot more.

[senseichaos]

Howdy howdy! I ADORED "You Can't Run. Hell. You Can't Even Hide" The balance between absolute fear, dizzy hypnotic confusion, and wide eyed admiration that the reader character holds for Vox is immaculate! Also them calling him Mister Vox is just Chef's kiss (it is WAY too hard to find xReader fics or even just fics in general where the honorific is Mister (C/N) and I love every one I find). The clothing change moment was probably my favorite, I'll always be a sucker for the representation of being broken and rebuilt in someone's image combined with the gift of pretty clothes. I keep going back to reread the whole story.

I know it's a oneshot, but since your requests are open, I figured I'd shoot my shot and ask if you would make a part two where Mister Vox just wrecks us, preferably sexually. We did leave off on him finding us trying to run away, do we not deserve to be punished for such an offense after all he's done for us? I also would love to see if/how much Vox has to push us to slowly become happy to be his, if that's something he wants (I could imagine having a rowdy unwilling runaway as his possession would get frustrating after awhile and be terrible for his image). There's honestly so much potential for what could happen next, and even though I could stew in my imagination, I would very much love to be at the mercy of your interpretation of the funky TV man a little longer.

That said, take your time, I know you've gotten a huge influx of Hazbin requests, hell I wouldn't be surprised if someone else already requested something similar to what I requested. I also understand if you can't/don't want to fulfill this request for any reason, that's what makes it a request. No matter what, you're an amazing writer and I hope you have a wonderful day!

💙✨

AAAAAAH!! I love you sm! When I saw this request I knew I had to do it at some point! I'm giving you the name 💙 anon from now on so if you request again I know it's you!

_______

Forever and always

(part 2 to: You can't run. Hell, you can't hide either)

Summary: After that day you attempted to escape from Vox, you had become somewhat accustomed to this new life you are forced to be living. Or you were until Vox gives you your first day off, causing you to find something out that would change how you live forever.

Genre: Smut, Angst, Horror (?)

Warnings: Non-Con, Yandere behavior, Possessive behavior, Sadism, Masochism, Electric shocks, Mind control, Drugging, Love potion, Vox is an asshole, Hurtful language, forced, gilded cage, soul contracts, unprotected sex (DONT), Vox owns reader, dacryphilia, let me know if I missed any!!

(not proof read)

--------

That day you attempted to escape from your gilded cage you wished to escape again, though vox had managed to continue his control. Even when he tugged you back by your electric leash you felt that horrid sinking feeling. This was it. For the rest of eternity as you know it Vox has you. He owns you, your soul, your body, your life; or well, lack thereof. You couldn't run from him no matter what you did, he practically controls the pride ring, keeping you tethered there like a puppy on a leash is simple to him. He has eyes everywhere. You cannot hide anywhere.

Recently Mister Vox has become a lot more... Touchy. Those fleeting touches of his fingers against your back, poking against your chin, pressing into your neck, swiping against your bottom, touching against your bosom. There is an odd burning feeling to it, you don't want to enjoy Mister Vox touching you in such ways, you don't want to enjoy it when he sucks his teeth at you or licks his tongue against his gums. But you do. You can't quench that desire. Especially when he'd moved you into his room from your apartment building. He hadn't made you share a bed with him, thank Lucifer, but he had made you sleep near enough to him that you can tell when he's.. pleasuring himself. Almost as if he wants you to hear him.

You and Mister Vox have never been better, besides from such hurdles. You stay obedient no matter how badly you wish to escape his arms. To cut all of his tight bounds on your body and run away. You'd figure out how, one day, you would.

"Good morning my dear! Did you have a gratifying sleep?" This is how most mornings go, Mister Vox will wake you with a poke if your side and a coffee in hand, already fully dressed and done up. You've always considered yourself a light sleeper, so you never know how he manages to make you a coffee every morning without so much as stirring you awake. You smile, nodding softly as you pry your eyes from his two dimensional face.

"Thank you Mister Vox, uhm.. did you have a good sleep as well?" You ask, taking a sip of the perfectly made coffee. Vox smiles, nodding as he takes a seat on the side of your bed.

"Of course, my dear. So, I know you have been working very hard recently... So I've decided to give you the day off!" Mister Vox declares, outstretching his hands as he gives you a manic smile. A day off? Why? This has to be a test. he's just going to leave you.. alone? For a whole day? This has to be fake, a joke, a flook.

"Oh my dear don't look so surprised! You've been a very good girl recently so I thought you deserved a day off," Mister Vox pauses, looking up at the roof for a second before peering back at you. "Now don't think this means we don't have rules, you are to stay in here for the day. If you want to go shopping I have to accompany you, alright? But I do have an appointment in an hour so it won't be for long,"

"Remember, I have eyes everywhere.."

You laugh awkwardly, shrinking into your own figure.

"I know Mister Vox.. I wouldn't forget," You can't stop that sorrow from entering your voice, but quickly you put on that mask of a smile once again. Mister Vox clasps his hands together, that red dripping from his maw again. "Great! Now I'll see you soon, be a good girl for me, hm?" He says, ruffling your hair atop your head with a condescending gaze.

"Yes Mister Vox," you reply simply, watching as he disappears in Into a blue line of electricity, shooting into the camera.

Fuck. Now what?

You can't remember the last time you were given this type of freedom, even if it wasn't a lot of freedom. Often you were tethered to Vox's side. Everyone in the building knows that you belong to Vox. Everyone outside of the building probably knows this, too.

There's this odd feeling in your stomach, this odd feeling as if you were floating. It happened every time you drank your morning coffee, but you'd always assumed it was just that feeling of awakening from slumber. But today, oh today it is stronger than ever before. It's as if you can feel every nerve in your body be rewired, every single hair on your body stand on end. Every sensation is doubled.

What the fuck was in this coffee? What is this euphoria? What is this yearning.. this yearning for Vox? You suddenly wish he was here, with you, holding you, calling you his good girl.. m

Shaking your head to rid yourself of such thoughts, you stand from your bed, fixing the large blue shirt you wear (that vox often asks you to wear when you sleep) as you walk to the kitchen.

The kitchen in Mister Vox's room is a large area just off to the side of his desk space, lined with many kitchen appliances and red cabinets. You are determined to figure out what he's putting in your coffee, what's making you feel so emotional. Needy. Awful. You scan the room, finding the coffee machine in the corner of the room with a couple bags next to it. Coffee, sugar, creamer... Nothing suspicious yet, it seems. Crouching down, you look open the cabinets beneath the coffee machine. Looking through the half full area.

Then you saw it, a small vial hidden behind a spare bag of creamer labeled 'Valentino and Velvette: Love potion'.

Terror shoots through you, causing you to drop the vial to the floor. It shatters everywhere, leaving the pink liquid to seep into the tiles below. He's drugging you. All this time, you feeling this want for him, burning at his touch, listening to him as he jerks himself off late at night. You wanting him to do things to you. It's all part of his plan to make you his, completely. To make you want to be his.

Burning tears fall down your cheeks, humoring you as you stand on shaky legs from the tile. What do you do? Now more than ever you want an out, a loophole, a way to take your soul back from his greedy claws. Anxiety, terror, hurt, worry, pain.

You want to prevent yourself from doing anything drastic, you really do. But all you can feel is this pain, this pain as you run on your feet to the balcony door. Trying your hardest to pry open the doors as they rattle loudly, shaking them, pulling them, pushing them. This evil man can't keep you here for any longer. You'd do anything to leave, ruin yourself for him, do something awful, make yourself less attractive to him.

Nausea. Headache. Your knees buckle as an electric blue overtakes your vision. What is this? You can't breathe, Vox. Vox. Help. Your head clouds, words fill your brain and you feel yourself being wrapped up by sharp claws. You can't scream. Help me. Please.

"You really think it's that easy?" Mister Vox.

"I can't believe I trusted you alone, even for a minute. After all I've done for you, as well. After I gave you a life some would dream for. Stupid girl." He sounds mad, horridly mad. Regretful. Throbbing takes over your body as sound waves film your ears. You can feel him lift you into his arms, placing you down onto a soft surface harshly.

"How am I supposed to make you understand this? You're mine,"

Your vision slowly comes back, until all you can see is him as he stares at you from above. His eyes are dark, domineering, needing. He's ready to take. What is he doing? All you can feel is his claw as it travels up your middle, between the valley of your breasts, stopping at the middle of your neck.

"Now, my dear? Are you going to let me teach you a lesson? For being such a brat?" You gasp, feeling his hand as it circles around your neck, effectively taking some air from your lungs. You shake your head, attempting to move your heavy legs from him with wet teary eyes.

"Nonono! Get off, please, get off!" You cry, writhing in his grasp. He sighs, rolling his eyes as he clicks his fingers. Suddenly a pulse of electricity goes through you, causing a shock to blur your eyes and pull a scream from you.

"Every time you try anything I'm shocking you, Dove. Don't try to escape from me, it's not going to work," he grins, laughing at your frightened teary eyes. "I can do whatever I want to you, my dear! I fucking own you!!" He growls, using his hand that isn't around your neck to push your thighs to your chest, revealing your bare pussy from beneath your oversized shirt.

"No please.. I'll do anything..?"

"Oh I'm sorry dear, but this is what I want more than anything right now.. maybe you should have thought of this before making such a racket and alerting everyone in the building, hm?" He says, dragging his clawed finger through your building wetness. He finally takes his hand from your neck, instead using it to keep your thighs in place as he pinches your clit between his sharp claws.

"Ah! Mister Vox.. hurts..!" You wail, wiping your tears from your eyes as he continues to abuse your sensitive bud between his fingers. He chuckles looking up at you as you gasp in pain.

"Hah! Wail all you want, dear, no one can save you." Vox guffaws, finally taking his claws from your clit. Only to plunge them into your aching hole without warning. You moan out, feeling the sharpness of them inside of you as he curls his fingers into your g-spot.

Mister Vox revels in your wails of pain and pleasure, fucking you with his clawed fingers harsh and fast. His claws are surely are scratching you from the Inside, he can tell by the way your hands tremble and clasp over your lips.

You can't help but feel good. This masochism of yours that forces it's way into you. Every scratch of his fingers inside of you just makes you want to cum. You can't give him that satisfaction, you can't let him know that you are enjoying every second of his claws thrusting inside of you. This is awful. You hate it. You hate that you love it.

"Is my little dove enjoying this? Awe.. to scared to admit you fucking love this?" Vox laughs sadistically, giving you an extremely harsh thrust of his fingers into your g-spot. You squeal, vision going white for a moment as his fingers go at this manic speed. You feel your orgasm build, wishing to break through the walls and release. But you can't let it, you won't let him have that. You'll never let him have that feeling knowing he's won.

"If you don't cum I'll fucking ruin you, dove."

You gasp and choke on saliva, clawing on the bedsheets below as he forces you to orgasm. There's no getting out. He knows that you are trying not to cum. And he won't let it happen.

"Yes.. Mister Vox.." you say softly, hole clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. Vox makes sure to drag it out, giving you slow rhythmic thrusts of his fingers to watch your body contract and writhe with pleasure.

"Good dove, listening to commands for me," He says softly, stroking the side of your cheek as he kneels between your legs. You want to pull away, but once again that burning and yearning feeling fills you. That stupid potion had an effect, and you can tell. From the way you feel a dizzy want when he looks at you to the wetness that continues to build between your thighs.

"Now, I'm going to fuck you so hard.." He laughs so himself, smiling crazily as he presses his hand to his face. "I'm gonna fuck you SO FUCKING hard, you won't even remember who I am anymore! How does that sound, my little slut?" Your lower lip wobbles as more tears threaten to fall from your eyes.

"Awful.." you whisper.

Another strong electric shock goes through you, causing you to scream out Mister Vox's name in pain as your body is left shaking and aching.

From the corner of your eye, you see Vox unzipping his fly.

"Wrong answer! Haha! Wrong fucking answer stupid slut," He growls, pressing the tip of his cock to your hole without a care. There something wrong with him, he's acting more crazy than ever before. He's getting off on your fear, getting off on your pain, getting off on knowing you can't do anything but be his.

With a loud slap, Vox sinks his entire length into you. You scream, clutching onto the bedsheets for dear life as he looms over you. He doesn't even give you a moment to let you rest, immediately setting a ruthless pace with his hips into yours. Every thrust causes your vision to go spotty with the pure force he drives his hips with, groaning with every thrust as he stares completely into your face as it scrunches in a pleasurable pain.

"S'too much! M-Mister vox It hurts!" You cry, reaching out to press your hands against his shoulders, clawing into his coat. You don't even care anymore, you want at least a small bit of comfort from these strong unforgiving thrusts. Vox chuckles at this, leaning down closer so he can capture your lips in a (forced) yet passionate kiss.

His long electric blue tongue immediately finds its way into your gob, passionately fornicating it against your own as his thrusts send you into a sort of floaty state. Vox maps the entirety of your mouth, tasting every crevice of you from your lips to the back of your throat. He thrusts almost ravenously like a dog, tip of his cock sometimes painfully pressing against your cervix.

Pulling away, Mister Vox looks Into your eyes, revelling in the way you claw at his back. You whimper and moan loudly, eyes fluttering closed as a tear falls down your cheek. He kisses it away, looking up at your closed eyes with a grin.

"Open your eyes, dove. Look at me while I fuck you." You cry out, opening your eyes for him so you can see him look at you with pleasure.

"Y-yes Mister- Ah! Vox.."

He chuckles, thrusting into you extremely hard. You can see the bulge of his cock in your stomach, poking against your skin in such a way you almost want to touch it.

"I'd fucking breed you if I could, fill your filthy cunt with all my little babies so then you can't even dream of leaving.. but I can imagine," Vox rambles, taking your cheek into his hand so he can look at you longingly- and almost affectionately. If it weren't for the position you're in you'd almost be enjoying this moment.

"Mister Vox!" You cry, back arching as your orgasm begins to prod at your stomach.

"Hm?" He asks, grunting as he thrusts into you.

"Can I cum? Please! Please please please.." You beg, legs quivering wildly. Vox chuckles, giving you an adoring look as you bite your lower lip.

"Awe look at you! Asking Mister Vox to cum and everything.." Vox begins, biting his lip as you sputter on a moan. "Of course you can, dove. Let go so I can fuck my cum into you.."

You scream his name when you cum, digging your nails so hard into his back you're sure his coat has tears in it.

You'd given up. Well and truly. You wouldn't admit it. But you've finally accepted it. You belong to Mister Vox. Forever and always.

Forever and Always.

Vox gives you one last thrust, emptying his cum into you with a moan from his own lips. Eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, Vox drags out his orgasm by serving you a few more small quick thrusts, making sure every last drop is inside of you.

But when he has, he doesn't pull out.

"Mister Vox.. pull out.." you whimper, wiggling your hips against him.

"Haha! As if. I said i'd fuck my cum into you, didn't I? I haven't done that yet.. okay?" He asks, stroking a hand through your hair.

"Yes Mister Vox."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I asked my mom to stop keto-fying recipes?

this is either gonna be a complete non-issue or get people mad at me, i can tell lmao. unfortunately this has been bugging me for weeks. :D

To be clear, I'm almost 25, but I and my adult/teenage siblings still live with my parents bc the economy is ass. Also, Mom hasn't been doing it to every recipe…yet…but the ones she has changed have been recipes where a carbohydrate is an important part of the main meal.

For instance, replacing the potatos in a beef-carrot-potato stew with a rutabaga.

Mom's been on a modified keto diet for a while now, and while Dad is the only one intentionally doing it with her, the rest of us are aware of her diet and are generally chill about it. For a while, we would have nights where the parents would have Thing A, which was diet-compliant, and the rest of us would have Thing B, which was not. Those of us who are not dieting are all old enough to make things for ourselves, by the way, and that's usually what happens. For most of these "split meals," one parent usually doesn't wind up cooking two meals, one of which they can't even eat.

The stew is usually a "split" meal that gets made by one person who does most of the prep just by virtue of knowing the recipe, then one person who peels and chops the potatoes, and then one who wrangles the peeling and chopping of the rutabaga. The rutabaga then gets combined with a proportionate amount of The Rest, and those of us who aren't dieting are welcome to taste-test it. I've tried it, and the rutabaga's okay, I guess, but quite a bit too sweet and non-safe-food-y for me in the context of the stew, especially when I'm so used to potatoes. Wrangling the rutabaga is a bit more fun than eating it.

…except the most recent time we had the stew, Mom and Dad made an executive decision and just made a full-family pot of rutabaga stew without really seeing if everyone else was on board with it. Two of my siblings seemed fine with it, one is an enigma on a good day so I don't even know how they felt about it, and I hated it. I didn't get the chance to say so, however, between everyone else complimenting the altered stew and the conversation quickly switching to something else.

Unfortunately, our parents have decided that we will be making the stew with rutabagas only going forward.

Not "the family has decided."

The parents have decided. For adults and a teenager. Not for little kids.

Since then, in other conversations where recipes come up, such as conversations about the teenager's recent baking kick, Mom has been mentioning keto versions of whatever's being talked about in the nonspecific way that I'm pretty sure is her hinting/telling us that we should make it. In the context of teen baking, a keto chocolate cake, or keto cookies.

Look, I'm not here to debate the worth of a diet or lack thereof. I have plenty of those opinions and I'm not going to change them or let them distract from the core of the matter: when any of us are making food for the others, why are we letting two people's diets dictate what the rest of us should eat? If we're making something specifically to align with the keto diet, then that's a parent snack/meal. If we're not, it's a "kids" snack/meal. It should be as simple as that. Why make a full-family-sized meal if it's going to be pushing low/no carbs onto people who, historically, have not wanted to or needed to drop carbs? (It's me, I'm people. I know, I'm not really subtle, am I?)

I'm considering, the next time the stew comes up as a dinner plan, asking what a single-sized portion of the potatoes would be and just making it for myself. Given I have the spoons to do so that night, anyway. However, I really don't want to insult Mom's family recipe (which…she's already altered…and I would be reverting to its previous state…) or her cooking skills (which haven't lessened, even if I personally think her ingredient choices are a bit lacking lately).

What are these acronyms?

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: Literally, I'm not gonna tell you what I was doing when I though of this 🫣. But uh, my god, dude. Stick a fork in me cuz I'm super, super done.

C/W ::: Just like, gross lovey dovey shit. Fingering, teasing, um, I don't even think this has language. So yeah. If you hate romantic stuff, mushy stuff, this is not for you.

WC ::: 646

Song Rec

Kafka laid down to your right, next to you on your bed. He thinks it's a lot like you: Warm, soft, and he never wants to leave.

And for the last 45 minutes, he's been kissing your neck so slowly and gently that you feel like you're either going to cum from the tension that has been racking your body or crawl out of your skin.

His right hand has been drawing tiny circles on your belly. His thumb rubs the parts of you that you wished he'd never notice. Never pay attention to.

Still kissing you, he slips his hand just below the elastic on your probably too-casual-for-the-occasion panties. He just looks down at you, locking eyes, and smiles that loving smile that he gives you when he knows something you're not quite privy to.

Your brows furrow, hips jutting upward as a nearly inaudible whine slips from your throat.

But his superhuman hearing caught that and the way your heartbeat increased dramatically as he sought out your wetness. His fingers danced further down with every intention of filling you. But at the last second, he withdrew his destination.

He put his middle finger into your mouth and tipped his chin up at you, silently reminding you that you know exactly what to do right now.

You obliged and let it slip passed your lips, sucking him in. You swirled your tongue around him, tasting yourself. Eyes rolling uncontrollably at how utterly sexy this man is right now and always.

Kafka had a way of making you feel like you were the only thing he needed in this world. The way his eyes dilated as you sucked on him made you feel like the only thing in his world his sights were set on.

His voice was barely a whisper as he asked, "Is this what you want? Is this what you need?"

He knew the answer already, but he loved hearing you say it. You wanted him. You needed him. You were his. He was yours. And right now, all you could focus on was him making you cum with his fingers, his mouth, his dick, or any combination thereof.

And so, he put his middle finger back in your mouth and took his index finger back down to your pussy. He spread your wetness over your clit. Your breath hitching in your throat as you felt his touch getting heavier.

He pressed down on it with a gentle but firm touch, and you melted into his embrace. The feeling of his hands on your body and his breath on your neck made you feel like you were floating.

Your orgasm was coming on quick. You couldn't help but wrap your arms around him and grip onto him like he was the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth.

With every kiss and stroke, he carried you closer to the edge. Your hips bucked as you felt the pressure building even more inside of you.

Your moans grew louder and louder until finally, you couldn't hold back any longer. You came, cursing any deities that were within range of hearing you. And, finally, a sigh. You were left feeling like your body was going to explode from the sheer pleasure of it all.

Kafka held you through it all, his fingers never leaving your clit, until you'd completely released every ounce of energy he'd made your body stockpile.

He held you close and kissed your forehead gently. "You're so … I love you so much."

You knew he meant it. You knew he loved you more than anything else in this world. You just wished you knew why. Why did he choose you? How did you end up with someone who was so perfect for you?

As he lay next to you, Kafka gently nibbled your earlobe and whispered, "I'm never letting go."

@supersecretsaga @kazutora-kurokawa @katkusuo

@witchy-scribblings (I hope it's ok to tag you?? I figured if you love him as much as I do you want to see everything ever written for him lol. Let me know if you don't want to be tagged and I'll cease and desist! =) )

@darkstarlight82 @arlerts-angel @bakubunny

@viburnt @reiners-milkbiddies @southside-otaku

@trevengersprincess (Sun-Ray? Do you want to be tagged in this stuff? Lmk! =) <3)

[roosterbox]

Heyyyyyyy Steddie thinky thought time again! And I’m putting it under a cut because, YET AGAIN, my hand slipped and I accidentally almost 2,000 words.

Tags: ANGST, miscommunication, HOH!Steve, Mean-and-Overly-Defensive!Eddie

So picture this, if you will…

High school AU. Probably no Upside-Down. Steve is deaf/HOH. He signs, but he knows that not everyone else does, and so few take the time to learn, especially not for him, so he usually carries around a notepad too. Just in case. Someone (probably Dustin, lbr) asks him to sit in on a Hellfire meeting. Heck, maybe even asks him to join. Steve is unsure, but he’s open to new experiences and Dustin always makes his favorite club sound really awesome (also the guy who runs the club is super cool and hot too, but shhhhhh). So sure - he’ll check it out.

The day comes and Steve gets there early. Like really early. In fact, he’s there before anyone else. Which is fine; he can use the extra free time to do a little homework, right? Thing is though, he’s so focused on his notebook that he doesn’t notice somebody else come in - Eddie. And there are four important things to note about Eddie.

He doesn’t know Steve is deaf.

He doesn’t know that Steve has been explicitly invited here by Dustin.

He knows Steve only by his reputation. So, not good.

He’s as protective of his club and the kids in it as a mama bear.

Needless to say, these four factors combine into a perfect storm, and Eddie is immediately on the offensive.

“Hey!” He says. “Hey, Harrington!” He continues when he gets no acknowledgement. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

No answer. Steve doesn’t even look at him. Just keeps writing in his notebook.

“Hey asshole! I’m talking to you!” Eddie’s volume is rising, as is his temper. Despite his uncle’s best efforts, Eddie’s never been the best at keeping cool. But, man, the disrespect. It tends to eat at him. And coming from King Steve of all people? Oooooooh doesn’t that just make his blood boil. Eddie stalks over to where Steve is sitting. If he thinks he’s gonna waltz in there and tease or humiliate any of Eddie’s little sheepies, he’s got another thing coming.

Steve, meanwhile, is just happily doing his homework. Maybe doodling a little in the margins. Wondering if Eddie looks as cool running the club as he does around school. Especially when he’s up on the lunch tables ranting about conformity. He’s so lost in thought that a sudden hand on his arm shocks him out of his chair, up to his feet. And just like that, he’s face to face with his secret crush, the one and only Eddie Munson. He smiles, but only for a moment as he sees Eddie’s furious expression. The other boy’s lips are moving. A little fast, but Steve does his best to read them.

“-hell are you doing here, Harrington? This isn’t one of your stupid jock sports teams. If you’re here to hurt these kids-“

Steve’s eyes widen. He tries to sign something. No, no.

Eddie sees Steve looking scared, waving his hands. It only serves to make him angrier. Steve sees he’s getting nowhere with sign, so he grabs his notepad and starts writing. He can still see Eddie saying something in his periphery, and he tries to write fast. To clear up any misunderstanding.

But then. Eddie goes too far. He manages to hit on one of Steve’s biggest insecurities mid-rant. And then he keeps digging at it. Steve stops writing and just… stares. Like a dog, Eddie cannot let go of the bone he’s found, so he keeps going. Insert any list of your favorite Steve insecurities here. His upbringing. His (bad) relationship with his parents. His reputation (which Steve hates so much). His intelligence. His fighting skills or lack thereof (poor Steve: getting beat up in every universe). And the worst part is how mean Eddie is about it. The kids tease Steve too, and yeah sometimes it hurts, but it’s never felt as outright cruel as it does when Eddie says it.

Steve’s eyes fill with tears, despite his best efforts, and while Eddie is mid sentence, Steve decides he’s had enough. He shoves his notepad at Eddie, into his chest, eliciting a surprised huffed exhale, before grabbing his bag and just running. He runs out the door, out of the building, to his car, and drives himself home. He doesn’t stop crying for hours.

Eddie, after the surprise of Steve shoving him and running out, just rolls his eyes. “Typical,” he mutters under his breath. “Fucking prick.”

He looks down at the notepad in his hands, still mad but also curious as to what Steve had thought was so important that he just had to start scribbling it down while Eddie yelled at him. And…

Not here to hurt, I swear. Dustin invited me. He’s like my little brother. I’m deaf - sorry couldn’t hear you talking. I’ve seen you around, and I think you’re pretty cool. I’ve never played DND before, but Dustin really loves it. Maybe I could-

That’s as far as it went. And man. Imagine the feeling of your heart sinking, dropping down past your stomach, through the ground itself before finally coming to a stop in the molten core of the earth. Imagine that, and you may experience a fraction of the almost instantaneous levels of guilt Eddie feels at that moment. All at once he thinks of how Steve had looked at him after he first got his attention. He had smiled. Fucking grinned. He was happy to see him. Happy to be there. Eager to see what Hellfire was all about. Eager to learn.

And Eddie had just taken that happiness, that earnest interest, and stomped on it. Crushed it utterly beneath his sneakers as if it were a cigarette butt.

The other guys start filing in. Including Dustin. But before he can say anything (maybe to ask where Steve is, and why the hell does Eddie have his notepad), Eddie shoves past them out the door.

“Eddie, what-“ Jeff starts.

“I’ll be right back,” Eddie calls over his shoulder as he quickly makes his way outside. Just in time to see Steve’s car speeding out of the parking lot. He curses, loud enough that a few students still milling about jump at the unexpected noise. Eddie doesn’t care. He messed up. He really fucking messed up, didn’t he?

He makes it up to Steve eventually. It takes time, of course; Steve’s trust is a hard thing to earn even on a good day, but after that first encounter? They’re not just starting at zero; they’re practically starting at -1000. He starts small. Little exchanges here and there. Usually with Dustin (or, occasionally, Steve’s best friend Robin, who looks at Eddie like she would flay him alive if Steve gave her the word) acting as a sort of buffer. It takes almost half a dozen of these group encounters before Steve says (writes) a single word to him, and even then it’s perfunctory. Cold. Simple. And it definitely hurts, just a little, especially since Eddie’s crush that he’s had on Steve since freshman year has been steadily growing with every exchange they have. As monosyllabic (if even syllabic at all) as they tend to be on Steve’s part. But every time he feels that hurt, Eddie thinks of how Steve had looked at him when he left the club that day. How sad and angry and frustrated. And he pushes his own (tiny, inconsequential by comparison) hurt aside. I can do more, he thinks.

One day, he manages to corner Steve on his own, without Dustin or Robin. Steve is annoyed - he still gets that sinking feeling of hurt whenever he’s with Eddie (which is enhanced (terribly so) by the stupid crush he has), and immediately pulls out his notepad. Starts writing on it. Something simple and to the point. Leave Me Alone. Or maybe Go Away. He gets as far as the first word before he realizes that Eddie isn’t talking. Not aloud, anyway. No, he’s signing. A bit clumsily, and a few of the words are wrong but close enough to understand. One sign is chief among them, though.

I’m sorry.

And in that moment, maybe, it hits home for Steve that Eddie really means it. Means it enough to try and learn an entirely new language to meet Steve where he is. He looks in Eddie’s eyes and he can see the guilt and shame swimming there. The hurt is still in him, that’s not going away with one apology (though this isn’t the first one Eddie has given him, of course), but still. Steve scratches out what he had been writing in favor of something else. After a second, he hands Eddie the paper.

I can’t forgive you. Not yet. You really hurt me. But thank you. When did you start learning to sign?

He sees Eddie’s eyes get a little watery as he reads, but then he’s handed back the notepad. He had thought that Eddie might take the easier route and just write it down, but no. Instead, with his hands free, Eddie continues signing.

A couple days ago. Stayed up all night. His cheeks were darkening. Blushing in shame at his rudimentary skills. Bad at it. Sorry.

And maybe it’s just because Eddie is one of only a handful of people Steve has met that have taken it upon themselves to learn sign, or maybe it’s that damn crush he can’t seem to lose, but Steve shakes his head. No, he signs, trying to keep it simple. Good.

Eddie looks away, signing Bad again. Steve touches his hand, the first point of actual physical contact they’ve had since that day at the Hellfire Club. Their eyes meet, and Steve signs, with as much emphasis as he can, GOOD. And then, Thank You.

Eddie looks down, suddenly feeling oddly shy. He’s still blushing but he also can’t help but smile. There’s the ghost of a dimple on his cheek, making Steve’s heart give a weak little flutter.

You’re welcome, Eddie signs.

After a long moment, Steve writes something down. He doesn’t want to overwhelm Eddie with signs yet. Not to mention that he doesn’t know how deep his (apparently only days-old) knowledge base goes. Best to go easy on him.

Maybe we could… start over?

He holds it up for Eddie to read, face a picture of inquisitive hope. The other boy nods, starts trying to sign, but gets frustrated rather quickly before holding out his hand for the notepad. Steve chuckles and hands it over, not missing the way Eddie’s blush deepens even further at the sound he probably made. Maybe his crush isn’t as one-sided as he’d been thinking.

Yes! Absolutely! If we are, then consider this your “first” official invitation to the Hellfire Club. Today, after school. (There’s a “I” here but it’s scribbled out) We would love to have you there.

I’ll be there, Steve writes. And, after Eddie reads it, he makes sure to get the other boy’s attention before he slowly signs the same thing. I’ll be there.

[troxlerfx]

ATTN: Welcome Home & Muppet fans!!

Tobi is a member of the Welcome Home production crew & a wonderful puppet builder who needs your help - if you like Welcome Home & puppetry & if you believe artists deserve to thrive, please donate, boost, donate & boost or any combination thereof 💛 things are rough all over for artists, especially artists who are LGBTQ+ - every little bit helps.