#and he learned to do his own hair back then

[jarofstyles]

Cabernet

This can be read as a standalone I think, but! Here is a second part of Merlot! It's spicy and sweet so I hope you guys like it. Unsure if there will be any more parts (I’m open if you guys have more ideas!) but I do love a good dilfrry.

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WC- 4.1k

Warnings- smut, age gap relationship, anal (for those who asked ur welcome!), unprotected sex, cumplay, Dom/sub elements

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Harry was by far the best man she had ever dated. 

Their age gap was evident at times, but not in a bad way. It was rather cute when he had been confused about videos she sent or his own excitement to show her the movies or books he was referencing. The added element of their dynamic was learning from one another. Harry had been teaching her about publishing and helping her flesh out the first draft of her book while she sat in his office some days, helping him out in return by getting him coffee or lunch or an occasional shoulder massage when he got particularly stressed. An unofficial assistant of sorts. 

“I feel like if I have to write the word ‘said’ one more time, my brain is going to explode.” She grumbled, pushing her laptop across the couch and leaning back on it. The leather seat in his office was by far the most comfortable one she had sat on and he happily invited her to come into the office to see him as often as she wanted. It was both practical and selfish on both ends.It was easier to work in a space like this and with the understanding that Harry really did have work he was doing, she focused on her own stuff. A quiet pair of people working in each other’s company. 

Add in the fact that he was the boss man, it made it much easier for her to come and go as she pleased. 

“Mm, sometimes authors get stuck with words in their novels. They’ll have phrases they repeat a few too many times, usually gets called out in editing and fixed. It’s not a bad thing. But with words that are action words like that, there are options. Y’know, depending on the scene and tone. Murmured, muttered, peeped, whispered, whined, moaned, huffed, grumbled. Those sorts of words.” He tapped his pen against the desk as he lifted his eyes to her. 

It didn’t get old. Seeing her pretty face sitting in his office looking the way she did, much more comfortable than the night they’d first met, but still appropriate for an office setting.

Sometimes he did let his mind wander into the roleplay aspect, wondering if she had been his real assistant if he would have made a move. If Y/N was the Y/N he knew now? Probably. Scandalous. 

Today she wore a pair of black flowy pants and a matching turtleneck, but on top she had a chunky knit cardigan that was utterly adorable. It had yellow moons and stars, a deep purple color with sleeves she had to push up so they didn’t hide her hands. His girl leaned into the office aesthetic when she came in so she didn’t stick out too much but with him or when they were at his place or out together, he loved seeing her dressed in her normal clothing. She looked soft, whimsical almost. Like a little fairy. 

“Hm. Good point. I need to write down all the synonyms in my notes app and defer to that because if I’m getting tired of writing it, I know whoever ends up reading it will get tired of seeing it too.” Her lips puffed to blow a strand of hair that had fallen from her bun, brows furrowed as she failed and made her hand ready up to tuck it behind her ear instead. 

Again, cute.

“Not necessarily.” He replied, leaning back in his chair. “We’re our own harshest critics. I doubt they’re paying that much attention to that. The majority of people will be paying attention to world building, character development, plot, sex scenes, all that fun stuff. The exact wording isn’t always the most important thing. But it shows that you care about quality.” He shot her a grin. “So you will be successful.”

“Mmm… and not because I’m fucking the publishing head?” She grinned as she stood up, stretching her arms out. 

“Well. That helps.” He wouldn’t deny it. She had a leg up, but he wouldn’t publish just anything. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t publish shit work. It isn’t worth the reputation of my company. Your writing is genuinely good, my sweet.” He knew the drill by now. Her heeled boots were kicked off by the couch and she made her way over to him, the tiredness starting to hit her as she happily perched herself on his lap. 

“Good to know.” She snorted before pressing a kiss to his scruffy cheek. The facial hair had grown but he was shaping it currently. She promised she’d be okay with whatever he did to it but didn’t want anything to happen to the mustache. That wasn’t allowed to go. “What are you working on? Anything fun?” 

“No, nothing incredibly interesting I’m afraid.” His hand squeezed her hip underneath the cardigan. “I was working on some contracts earlier but every so often I pick up some submissions and read through them myself. This one is very bland, unfortunately. There’s potential, absolutely. Their writing style is lovely, but the plot falls flat and the characters are one dimensional. S’like they chose a specific stereotype and did nothing to differentiate them.” It was unfortunate.” It was a shame he came across all too often.

“It’s obvious this person is trying but they’ve never observed or met someone with these traits. I don’t think you absolutely have to follow the rule ‘write what you know’, but I think a lot of the best works come from drawing from our own experiences. Romance, for them, doesn’t seem to be a passion. They’d do better with mystery with their writing style as it is, but they have to improve on other aspects first.” 

“Is it hard for you to see stuff like that?” She asked curiously, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I can tell you’re a little disappointed with it, so I have to wonder if it happens a lot.”

“It does. And it is hard when you see someone with potential not living up to it but I have faith that if we send them some constructive criticism notes that maybe they won’t see it as an attack but as a place of genuine care. I’m going to have someone meet with them I think, give them my notes and have them explain it in nicer terms than the plain ones I used. Maybe they can work on it again and add more and we’d have a best seller.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I can see they care about it in the way they put details in, but it needs more.”

There was something incredibly attractive about listening to him talk about it. It was always attractive to see someone care and talk about their passions; but Harry was on another level. She could see it on his face that he was disappointed and knew the person could do better. While it made it all the more nerve wracking for her own novel, she had him working with her along the way.

He never told her where to go with her story in terms of ideas, but how to improve the mechanics. Reading over bits and telling her to take away a certain detail and add more in other places, or giving suggestions about how things could flow smoother. He’d listened to her storyboard, after showing her the author equivalent of it, and gave his honest feedback from a publisher's point of view and then from a boyfriend’s point of view.

Sometimes it was more obvious that he was the one with miles more life experience in these instances but she couldn’t be upset about it when it only aided in strengthening their relationship. 

“I see.” She looked at the manuscript on the desk with the red pen of doom. “Oof. The red pen is out… and you’ve used it a lot.” 

“Well, there are errors.” He chuffed, kissing her cheek in return. “Did you get enough done?” The word count goal had been 3,000 for today, but he didn’t make it for her. It was all on her. He simply helped keep her accountable.

“I did more. I think… 4.5?” She tilted her head trying to remember. “Now my head feels like soup.” It did feel like mush right now. That was why the laptop was closed and abandoned and she was finding comfort in the man. It was like a reward. 

“That’s ace, my dove. Amazing.” He praised. The pride he felt for her was earned fair and square. She had been applying herself more now than ever. Since their first night together they hadn’t really separated, seeing each other at least a few times a week. Her work ethic was there as she had zeroed in on what she wanted. “Why don’t we finish this up and go back to mine, mm?” 

Harry had been holding off all week. He’d gone a bit rough one night and even though she said she was fine, he wanted to give her body time to relax. As much as he loved sex, he had wanted her body to enjoy it more than anything else. Not be overly swollen and sore the next day. 

Today was going to be the day to break that. A full week of nothing but heated kisses, and she was as needy as needy could get. He felt her perk up at the mention, sitting up straighter in his lap. 

“Please! Let’s go. We can get food on the way home but I think we have some pressing matters to attend to.” She sniffed, standing from him and offering a hand to help him up. “Chop chop. Get a move on, mister.”

——-

Two rounds in and he knew she could take it. Her poor cunt was a mess and he knew that as pretty as it was all drippy and swollen, she had been aching for him to get a try into her other hole. They’d had a proper discussion about it, and he had effectively been edging her the entire night. Fair? No, but she knew how he rolled. The promised pleasure first, experiments after. Just in case she wanted to stop, she got something out of the night. 

She’d been warming his cock for a bit as he held her in his arms, cooing soft praises about how good of a girl she was, how brave she had been to ask for something new tonight when he felt her get impatient. She didn’t need to say it. He knew her well enough now to understand what she wanted. Pulling his cock out and rubbing the tip against her asshole, pressing against it and spreading the sticky cum over the rim.  “Want me t’fuck this tight little ass too?  Fill you from both ends."

“Wanna try.” She nodded, panting as her cunt contracted and his cum dribbled out of her pussy. “You’re so big I… I dunno if I can take it. Go slow.” Y/N knew she was slightly cock drunk but she also trusted him. He’d made her feel good already, took his time with everything else why wouldn’t she want to test this with him?

“Okay, my sweet. Just relax.” Harry wasn’t nervous, but he was cautious. His girl was precious cargo, and he wanted to make sure it felt as good as it could. He’d done the work of stretching her with his fingers, but it was going to be a challenge to get him in there regardless. He slowly pushed his thick head past the tight rim of her back hole. Watching her face intently, his own contorted with pleasure. "You're doing so good, doll," he encouraged softly. "Just relax and let me in. You can take it."

The pressure was intense, and she hissed out a breath as he slowly pushed more and more of himself into her. His thick head stretched her wide, and he paused, letting her adjust to the new sensation. "Breathe." The reminder was whispered as he realized she was holding her breath, his hand carding through her hair tenderly.

"That's it, baby. You're taking it so well. Always do so good f’me." He praised, his voice low and soothing. He slowly pushed more of himself into her, inch by inch, his thick prick spreading her wide. She could feel every vein, every ridge, as he slowly filled her up.

As he slid deeper, Harry could feel the intense pressure and stretch around his girth. Her tight little hole was gripped tightly around his shaft, the muscles fluttering and contracting as he pushed his way inside. She felt like she was being split in two, her body struggling to accommodate his bigger size- but she was. Slowly but surely, he sunk into her fully.

She had done it. 

“Fuck.” She sobbed out, clinging to him as he got down to the base. Never in her life had she felt so full that way, so stretched. Only Harry could make her feel this way. It wasn’t just the physical feeling, but the emotional one too. She trusted him more than she trusted anyone else. His guidance was priceless.

"You're doing so good, You’ve got it all in. Jus’ gotta let it adjust." he soothed, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. Giving her a moment to adjust, his hands stroking her hair and her cheeks, his thumb brushing away her tears. "You feel so hot around me, doll. So tight. Knew y’would be."

“I wanna be… I want you to feel good.” She whispered, looking at him with wet eyes. “It’s just so big. I’m tryin’ to take it.” It surely wasn't a beginner cock but she wasn’t known for taking the easy way.

"You're doing so well, baby," he reassured her, his hands never leaving her. He slowly pulled out halfway before sinking in again, a little faster this time. "That's it... take me all the way in."

It was the fourth time he did it that she felt the pleasure. Both from the action and the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against her swollen clit, making her gasp. Her eyes fell shut as she leaned her head back, slowly relaxing into the bed.

He watched her face contorted in pleasure, his heart swelling with pride. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough. As she opened her eyes, he began to pick up the pace, his hips pressing against hers. "M’so proud of you. Look at you, taking every bit of me.”

Y/N sent him a blissed out smile as her hand slipped between them, rubbing her own clit slowly as he fucked into her ass. There was nothing rushed about it, nothing frantic, and it felt good just to be. Her muscles relaxed, making it feel even better as his cock filled her hole. Soft moans left her mouth as she curled her other hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down so he was close. “Are they the best holes you’ve had?”

Harry’s face was lax in his own pleasure as he felt her tight ass clench around his cock. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his breath hot against her lips. “They are. So fucking tight, so perfect. Can’t compare them t’anything else.” He kept up his steady rhythm, loving how her body moved with his. “You feel so good. Can never get enough of you.” He whispered, brushing a stray hair out of her face before stroking her puffy lip. They were so pretty. Kissing wasn’t something he’d thought much of before, but he hadn’t kissed Y/N. She had changed everything for him. 

“Better than that silly ex wife?” She prodded, watching with a little smirk as she watched him think it over. Y/N had a feeling she was by the way be was acting,  but she wanted to hear it.

"Way better." he grunted, his hips snapping forward. "Little minx, y’just need to ask that, hm? No need to be jealous. She never gets t’have me again. Only y-you." He stuttered as her hand moved around his neck and she squeezed down hard on him. "Her holes were nothing compared to yours, doll. Nothing."

Y/N giggled as she choked him a little bit, watching his eyes widen before pulling. It was obvious that while he was the big man in charge- she could have fun too. “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll tell you a secret, Harry.” Her lips brushed his as she kept the grip on his throat. Her lips were swollen and sensitive, the coarse facial hair brushing it and making her want to moan. “None of the boys my age have ever made me cum. They never fucked my ass. Never fucked me raw. And you did it all.”

"And I'm gonna keep doing it," he rumbled, eyes burning with lust as she kissed him. His hand tightened in her hair, tugging gently and pulling her deeper into the kiss. “You’ve got a man now, no need to think of those boys.You want me t’keep being nice to you? Keep making you cum?”

“If you keep fucking me like this, I do. Want my man to be so, so nice to me.” She gasped as he pushed all the way in, balls rested snug against her ass as he slowly humped into her, the comfort of the fullness making her fingers work harder on her clit. “Gotta- Gotta prove you can keep up with me, old man. That you c-can live up to the hype. I like the bit of silver at your temples but…” Her moan was broken as he pulled out and pushed back in, jostling her. “Gotta prove why older guys are b-better for pretty little things like me.”

"Oh, I'll prove it to you," he growled, picking up pace as he pounded into her tight ass. She had no idea just how badly he’d needed her to walk into his life. Thank god she had. This was everything he had ever wanted. "And right now, you need me to wreck this little hole until you can't walk straight. You need me to show you how a real man handles his woman. I'll give you everything you crave, everything you need. You just have to let go and trust me.” The man had every intention of proving how much better he could be for her than she could ever imagine.

"Fuck, look at this cunt." He muttered, reaching down to spread her dripping pussy apart. "It's absolutely soaked, just dripping down. Love it, hm?” The smugness in his tone would usually make her scowl but there was no denying it. The proof was right there. It was undeniable. “You're so turned on, baby. It's making it easier for me to fuck this tight little ass of yours." The glossy, hard flesh glistened with slick, dripping down onto the bed beneath her. His own cum intermingled with her own, making his movements smoother as he pushed in and out of her, coating her holes with their combined essence.

Her face was a mask of pure ecstasy, her eyes rolled back in her head as she whimpered in pleasure, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. Her asshole clenching and unclenching around his thick cock with each thrust, trying to milk him for all he was worth. Her body was feeling tingly, her legs trembling as he fucking into her ass, the sound of her arousal and his hips hitting her skin filling the room. She was completely lost in the pleasure, her mind clouded by the overwhelming sensation of being thoroughly fucked.

As she reached the peak of her orgasm, he took over and began rubbing her clit with his own thumb, the sensation sending waves of pleasure cascading through her body. She cried out, her pussy gushing as she came harder than she would have imagined being fucked like this. She was so overwhelmed that she could only hold limply onto his arms as he continued to pound into her, his thick cock stretching her hole as it thrust through the waves of her intense orgasm.

His face contorted, vein bulging in his neck as he struggled to hold back. "You feel too good, baby. I can't... I can't hold back any longer." His heavy balls drew up close to his body, ready to unleash another load inside of her. The feeling of her taut muscles milking him, the way she clung to him with every fiber of her being, it was too much. He was sensitive himself, but he wanted to deliver everything she wanted.

"Please, Harry...Please,come inside me... I wanna feel you fill me up. Want it everywhere." She panted, her voice desperate with need. Half of the fun of sex was seeing him lose that control he so easily held in all other scenarios. She wanted to make him feel just as good as he made her feel. He deserved it.

His restraint shattered at her words.  "Fuck, you're gonna get what you asked for."

With a guttural groan, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and let go, his hot load pulsing into her hole in thick ropes. She felt each ribbon scalding her , marking her as his. "That's it, take it all... That’s m’girl.” He kept cumming, his cock twitching as he filled her. Ribbon after ribbon filled her up until she was overflowing with his load, almost overwhelmingly so. He finally slowed, his chest heaving, before gently pulling out of her ass, his cock glistening with the evidence of their fuck.

With a sense of possessive pride, he watched as his cum began to leak out of her stretched hole, dripping down her thighs. It was satisfying in the filthiest way. Primal and caveman in every sense of the word, he loved knowing that he had done it. He’d taken every one of her holes and made her his in the dirtiest type of way. He gently spread her cheeks apart, admiring the sight of his mark leaking from her. "Look at that... You're so full of me, S’that what you wanted?”

“Mhm.” She smiled, slightly drunk on the orgasm and the fact that he had pushed her further than anyone else had before. it was a good feeling in her body, the beginnings of soreness and the calming heat of his hands as he caressed her the way he wanted. “Exactly what I wanted. Think M’gonna have to keep you around so we can do that again.”

“I’d hope so.” He laughed tiredly, pushing back down to take her mouth for another kiss. “I’m far from finished with you, sweet little thing. But I think I’ve ravaged your body enough. Think you need a bath and some tea, get you ready to sleep.” 

Aftercare wasn’t something she’d experienced in any other relationship either, but she realized now it was probably a Harry exclusive thing. He was phenomenal at it. A lot of things, honestly. He experimented with her responsibly, took care of her after every round of sex, checked in on her, made sure she was eating proper meals, and helped her with her career. She’d lucked out with him. Whatever his ex wife was thinking, she had no clue- but she wasn’t about to waste a single bit of him.

“Do you have chamomile?” She asked softly, pecking his lips in return. 

“What do you take me for? Course I’ve got it.” He scoffed, pinching her chin. “But if I didn’t, I’d find some for you. Know it’s your favorite. Added it to the grocery list, along with your cereal, your rancid battery acid energy drinks, and the sweet and salty popcorn.” 

“It’s good battery acid, I’ll have you know.” She giggled, carding her fingers through his hair. He did have a bit of gray going on the temples but it was sexy. Just hearing how much he cared and put effort into the tiny things made her giddy. 

“Yeah, yeah. We can talk about your poison in the morning. It’s time to get clean and go t’sleep. Tomorrow may be the day you write five thousand words. You never know.”

[modedelagauze]

Lying is The Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

​​pairing: Ellie Williams x f!reader summary: Ellie finds out you do burlesque and fucks you in costume after the show. cw: nsfw, dom!Ellie, thigh riding, praise kink, cursing, strap, fingering (4.2k) Read the extended version on AO3 HERE

an: I've got serious p!atd brain rot right now so stream Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off to get the full vision~

unedited btw!

“Five minutes!” shouted a voice over many, somewhat distorted by the echo of clicking heels rapidly shuffling between the narrow corridors of the dressing rooms and storage closets sandwiched among one another downstairs. You took a moment to reapply a thick layer of the blood colored bullet in your fingers and puckering to place a kiss on the surface of a half boa covered mirror as a way of wishing good luck to yourself before the show. You were one of the only cabaret girls who actually sang at the club and the only girl to  have ever sang for Ellie Williams personally. At the beginning of the semester you’d often spend late afternoons alone and enclosed within the padded walls of the black box theater, on campus, practicing. You were blissfully unaware of the fact that there was someone else who was also using the space on occasion, probably for the better. It only was two weeks into the term that you’d stayed later than usual singing–ten minutes at most–and been disturbed by the nervous brunette carrying a guitar. To avoid drawing attention, Ellie had always entered the theater through its reliably unlocked back doors only to be gifted with the sound of your voice. Entranced by the melody, she decided to wait behind the curtains, standing just far enough for a view of your form without being noticed. It was only when you turned to take a swig of water that you became aware of the girl watching you. After that encounter she suggested that the two of you spend some time singing together, that you could learn a thing or two from each other. You ended up learning how magical her fingers could feel buried deep within that aching cunt of yours. With time, of course, she’d gone and destroyed what the two of you had built by indecisively bouncing back and forth between you and some girl back home. So, here you were ignoring her third call of the week and at the same time hoping to see her in passing just for one moment of spite.

On the stairs down from the dressing room, you practiced breathing exercises in preparation for the upcoming vocal stress. Girls called out wishes of support as you made your way down the long hall until their voices faded into the hushed whispers of patrons and the sharp clanging of glasses upon their wooden tables. It felt as though time had sped up tenfold how a wire was so quickly slid behind your ears and down your costume; a small flesh colored earpiece rushed into your right palm to be placed comfortably at your own will. Right at center stage was the band’s pianist, side facing the curtains, whilst the rest of the group were all tucked along the left side of the stage facing the audience. He passed along a supportive nod in your direction as you rushed into position; that being sat atop the far right side of his piano with an arched back and one thigh flush against the wood while the other was kicked up and bent.  

“Thirty seconds till curtains rise,” ushered one of the techies and thus began the pianist, a playful and upbeat tempo before joined by the bass then guitars. The crowd cheered, queueing everyone behind the curtains that the two dancers upon the stage beyond had begun dancing along to the music. Slowly the velvet draping began to reveal light, decorating everyone behind the curtains too in ribbons of dancing radiance. 

In synchronization with the drums having now kicked in and the curtains fully raised, you began in a teasing tone, “Is it still me that makes you sweat?”  Your hands navigated down your hair and to your breasts, stopping to cup them ever so slightly before tauntingly sliding a single bra strap down between the lines, “am I who you think about in bed when the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you’re sliding off her dress?” An o-shaped expression of faux-embarrassment graced your face for a moment before gliding off of the piano and maneuvering around it to wrap your arms around the pianist in an attempt to imitate the look of a neck kiss. The next line was one of mockery, “Think of what you did and how I hope to god she was worth it.” As the final words of the phrase escaped your lips, your eyes landed on Ellie sandwiched within the crowd along the center stage, earning a stutter only recognized by the pianist as his eyes quickly darted to you and back to his instrument of choice. “When the lights are dim–And your heart is racing as your fingers touch her skin.” The line was rushed in order to catch up with your stutter, though the pianist threw in an additional key to make up for it, smiling as he played. In one fluid motion the two dancers along stage, darted to your figure and tugged on either side at both arms. You sang with pure confidence, borderline arrogance “I’ve got more wit” as one dancer dropped your arm the other spun you into hers and ran a hand along your face, thumbing at your flush bottom lip “a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck than any girl you’d ever meet.” Your song choice for the night had been a very carefully curated one though you weren't expecting to see Ellie any time soon–especially at your place of work out of all locations–it felt so good to sing your emotions out and leave them on the stage, but seeing her just now had felt like the greatest fuck you that the universe could offer. Had she even known that you’d be here or was it all by pure coincidence? Regardless, you'd come to the conclusion that now was no better a time than ever to remind her of the mistake she’d made. The other dancer’s hands found their way to your waist, unraveling you from the original’s hold and into her own. Both of your hands landed in your hair, teasingly pulling at it leading her to imitate the ghost of an open-mouthed moan, “Sweetie you had me.”

The routine required you to pick a random guest in the audience to sing to and Ellie had just so managed to pick one of the best seats in the house. Navigation was really quite effortless as you made sure to spend a lingering moment here and there singing into the face of occasional patrons. Each strum of the bass was a stride forward before unabashedly ending up at Ellie's table. You managed to dance around the other people sitting there and right into her face without wasting a beat. You asked and received and here she was in all her glory, a bewildered look upon her face as if she hadn't expected for you to make such a commotion about her appearance. You knew under that carefree attitude that she loved to portray there was still that same nervous girl tucked away within. It was as if she’d planned to show up in order to provoke you and realized that now was too late to back out. Usually she had no issue confronting any issue at hand but the problem was that she hated the attention confrontation brought her. She wanted your attention after having not seen you in so long and was desperate enough to risk embarrassment for it, which said more than enough.

Her gaze brought out a degree of seduction in you that had been fighting to finally be on the prowl again, tantalizing and enough for the girl in front of you to practically taste you with her eyes. You could see her fingernails hopelessly digging into the arm rests of her chair, respecting  the club rules that patrons weren’t allowed to touch any of the performers unless they placed the hands of patrons upon their bodies themself. 

A wicked smile was unavoidable as your hands grew to extend themselves past your own body and onto hers, delicately tiptoeing down her shoulder blades, scuffling the tips of your freshly manicured nails down the sides of her biceps. How you knew she loved the scratches; the way you would often leave her skin tinged red the following morning after a scandalous night. Maintaining eye contact was the name of the game for the entire duration of your little escapade. Naturally you already had the girl by an inch or two, but with the added height of heels you were a steel tower of carnality that she wished to rip apart. If anything she liked that you were taller because It made watching you sink down onto her strap all the more enjoyable. Seemingly the length of your legs created an illusion of prolonged time settling down upon her crude nature and she could watch you ride all night long.

You were sure to drag your claws along her jeans, pressing just hard enough for her to feel it through the fabric as your hands retracted down to her knees and you dropped to a close legged crouch looking up at her, running your hands across your own skin and through your hair, suspending it all in the air long enough for her to get a good glance at the exposed skin of your neck and hickeys from someone who wasn’t her. Slowly you stood again, rocking your hips back and forth as and circled her seat. She hadn't taken much of a sip from her drink and so from behind you snatched the floating cherry stem from its alcohol soaked entrapment. When you could see her eyes again, you reached to wrap your left hand around her jaw, forcing it open as you allowed the cherry to hover over your outstretched tongue then flicking it inside of her mouth. Of course she caught on and separated the cherry from its stem and you dropped what was left of it back into the drink. “Oh no, you know it will always just be me.”

From there you made your way back to the stage and concluded the set. Exiting the stage, you caught the view of a faint glow upon Ellie's face as was seemingly typing away furiously upon that screen. When you finally got to the dressing room your phone had lit up with a flurry of messages from the distressed brunette. The first about how beautiful you were, next demanding you keep your costume on, followed by how much she wanted to ruin your pretty makeup and finally concluding it all by asking if you could just come outside for a moment. And of course she got the better of you. Frankly you were turned on by how desperate she looked and sounded. Maybe you’d punished her for long enough? Washington got cold fast and by early November snowfall was impending so you grabbed your fleece and made for the back door where-to nobody��s surprise-Ellie was parked almost directly in front of the door whilst leaning against the passenger door waiting for you. 

“It’s good to see you.” She spoke as she moved to open the door for you to get in.

With only inches between your lungs, you crossed your arms stopping dead in your tracks. “That’s not what you said to me Ellie. You asked me for a moment, not a damn joyride.”

The brunette rolled her eyes, now dropping her crossed arms to motion at the enormous building behind you. “Can you just listen to me for five minutes (†)?” she sighed loudly before continuing on in an almost pleading tone. “You just gave me a fucking amazing show and the place is obviously about to close. The least I can do is congratulate you on all this, because I haven't heard a lick from you in the last two weeks and suddenly you've become a damn good showgirl.”

Avoiding the situation, you sniffled at the bitter cold before gliding inside of her leather interior. “I’m freezing.”

She was quick to slam the door shut, mumbling something about you irritating her as she made her way back around to the driver’s side. Humming quietly, the speakers inside said what she refused to say aloud, “Why don't you show me a little bit of spine you’ve been saving for his mattress. I only want your sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me.” And of course you would've done just that, but it was only fair that you made the process difficult. Too many times had you easily given into her apologies within hours. Truthfully you missed her and the way she fucked you, but don’t get it twisted, it wasn’t that Abby hadn’t been easily laying you to rest when you couldn't see Ellie and vice versa, but why have only one pretty girl in your life when you could have two of them? It was pure and utter unapologetic greed.

As she had previously requested, you kept the same lingerie from earlier on; a pair of fishnet tights, low rising short shorts decorated by black sequins with a matching bustier so low cut that she was surprised it had not warranted one nip slip throughout the entire show. A plethora of golden cuffs spanned either of your biceps while a frilled garter belt adorned your left thigh and your hair, she couldn't even begin to speak on those perfect ringlets and how they framed your face, cascading down your shoulders into ink blotted waterfalls. The charm decorated braids placed sporadically around your head were always the cherry on top of it all because she loved how she could always hear you coming before she actually saw you; waiting like a dog with perked ears for a treat. 

After her door was closed and locked you turned to face the girl, now ready to lay bare whatever needed to be said and done. “Well?” You taunted, sliding your feet from their heeled prisons and bringing your legs up to your chest to sit comfortably.

Ellie adjusted the gear before she moved to reach behind the head of your seat , reversing out of the parking lot. Her eyes darted over to you then back on the road, laughing dryly as she responded. “Please don’t play stupid with me (†). We both know why you’re in my car.” 

You opened your mouth to speak then decided against it, staring out of the window with crossed arms when you responded. “How did you even find out where I work at Ellie?”

She laughed before placing a hand on your thigh, playfulling squeezing the tender tissue. “I knew that I only had to look for the most glamorous place around. Besides, Jessie really doesn’t like conflict.”

“And who the fuck are you, going around asking my friends about me Ellie?”

“He’s my friend too. I don’t understand why you have to be so damn difficult when you’re sitting barefoot in my car. I can’t think of any other reason you’d be undressing yourself already.” You’d been so busy pretending to be mad at her that you hadn’t realized that the car had just come to a stop in an empty parking lot, with only the faint illumination of a nearby lamppost to reveal the silhouette of her face in a warm wash of light.

Finally you decided to face her, “Maybe I’ve decided to change things up. I like hearing you whine, Ellie.” her gaze softened, eyebrows raised as a smirk played at the corner of her mouth fighting to reveal itself. 

Ellie reoriented herself to lean on the center console, partially to close the space between the two of you and also to allow her eyes finally a better view, mentally undressing your figure in the process. “You’re so demanding (†).”

You leaned in, whispering a final retort before closing the gap. “I get off to being worshiped by you, Ellie.” 

You could feel the girl smiling into the kiss as her fingers entrenched your curls, holding them tightly in a delicate cluster. After the two of you finally pulled apart a string of saliva had remained connecting you both until you’d moved far enough to break the thin bond. Her eyes were darker now, thinking of the ways she could mold you into whatever she wanted in this car. “Get in the backseat,” she demanded breathlessly. The girl then increased the volume of her music before she joined you back there, the next track being ‘Is It Really You’ from Loathe.

The two of you fought like swordsmen to control the encounter, Ellie forcing you into the cold glass of the window when she was the one kissing you and then switching to Ellie restrained with her head to the leather when you were the one kissing her. You sat straddling her lap, one leg folded up along her hip and the other fallen between the leg space separating the front and back seats. Your fingers threaded through her hair as an arm moved to gently squeeze your throat, locking you in place as the other reached around, palming your ass for a couple seconds before she snuck a finger around the ribbon holding your bustier together, tugging at the material. “So fuckin pretty,” she gasped between the dancing of your tongues. “Put your arms up.” You did as told with a careless disregard for the long process of getting that thing back on after all of this was over. You just wanted her all over you now. 

Ellie was a mess as she watched the reveal of your breast falling free from the bustier, instantly taking a taunt bud into her mouth and tweaking the other in her fingers. You moaned at the shockwaves it sent echoing down your body straight to your pussy, but there were no breaks to this ride. 

You didn’t even realize her fingers had already peeled back the crotch of your shorts when the sound of your fishnets ripping under her grasp brought you back down to reality. The air was cold against your clothed, sticky cunt as it begged for room to breathe. Her fingers began massaging small circles onto the inflamed pearl, already wet enough for it to stick to your panties. “All this dancing around the fuckin’ questions I ask you,” she laughed over your hushed moans before stopping to slap your desperate pussy. “Tryna pretend you didn't want this, but you’re so fucking wet already (†).” 

You’d forgotten who you were under her hold. Somehow it had become so embarrassing to be as bratty as you were, deliberately pissing her off in order to earn a good fucking, sitting there with your eyes screwed up and a hand over your mouth, silencing the pornographic noises attempting to escape your throat over mere dry humping. “Come back to me baby; You don't get to run away.” she teased, resulting in an aggressive hickey pressed into the skin above your nipple. Another electrifying shock when she bit down and in that same moment sneaking her digits into your panties to now perform an inhumane assault on your pink parts. “I wanna hear you.” The vulgar brunette hummed.

“How many times did she make you cum?”

Your eyes threatened to shut closed again, nearing the verge of pleasure filled tears sliding down your perfectly powdered cheeks, “What baby?”

“Abby.” At this point she was starting to sound annoyed, picking up the pace.

Out squealed a voice that you hadn't known could even come from within, “I don't know.”

“Then we should start counting how many I can put you through.”

Just as you could see the horizon of your orgasm approaching she retracted her fingers from the sopping canal, earning an exasperated whine on your end. She took your jaw into her left hand, turning your face away from her as she drug her tongue down your skin, biting at it rougher than she normally was-like there was something to be proven. “You want me to fuck you real bad huh?” She gloated, hooking a finger around the seat of your undies and running her digits along your slit, collecting more than enough slick for it to run down her fingers and onto her palm “Yeah?” She continued, pushing two fingers into your hole without warning. 

“Please,” was all that you could muster, grinding your hips onto her fingers for any sort of additional pressure. Almost there. Like clockwork she caught onto what you were attempting and stopped you dead in your tracks with her fingers having gone limp and the other hand holding your hips in place. 

“Now, you know better than that.” She spoke imitating faux-empathy, “especially when we’re like this with each other.” Because normally after arguing the two of you fucked it out and at some point during the transaction someone apologized resulting in an orgasm for the other but for now this was world’s nastiest game of chicken. In passing moments, she began again, fingers curving directly into that spot that made you see stars in the night, a hand placed on your hips rocking them back and forth. “C’mon baby, fuck yourself for me.” And you damn sure rode her like it was nothing, eyebrows knit together as you focused your entire being on getting off. It didn't even take a whole minute for you to get there, and Ellie grinned at her handy work, but this was only the beginning. “One. That’s a good girl.” Your legs shook in reaction to her aggression and you attempted to stop her fingers from continuing on, wrapping your own around her steady wrist.

“Move your hands (†).” She ordered as your eyes began to water from the overstimulation.

“I can’t.” You pleaded in broken whimpers.

All she could do was laugh at you again, offering encouragement as if this was nothing to her. “You will. I need to hear that shit real loud on my dick.” Those words alone were enough to send you through another fiery orgasm. You swore your moans were loud enough to be heard beyond the entrapment of this car and Ellie liked pushing herself to see just how loud she could get you. “Two. It was that easy.”

Stiff fabric was good for hiding things just as she had until now, exposing the strap on that you had assumed to have been her phone in her pocket earlier. Ellie took you into her arms, rearranging the two of you where she was now the one on top and your head resting against the door’s storage compartment. “You ready baby?” she enquired, taking a minute to kiss your cheeks. You nodded, cunt throbbing for more as she watched it produce more of that thick hot arousal. 

“You got the prettiest pussy in the world, (†).” She began, taking the plastic dick into her hand and tracing your slit, bewitched by the beautiful glass shine of your cum dripping down onto the leather seat as if an antiquated romantic painting. In that moment the guilt came flowing down her conscious for everything. Just wanted to make up for it by making you feel good. “Fuck, I can’t wait,” the girl whined, slowly pushing herself into you, feeling her own wetness completely entrenching her boxers and making its way for her thighs. The way your hair laid along the car interior, fanning out around you like a headdress made her melt, stopping to kiss you again before she began stroking slowly, making sure to allow you time to adjust to the feeling of fullness. 

“More,” You pleaded, beginning the process of catching her rhythm in your hips. 

“Yeah?” She answered, taking your thighs into her hands and sliding them over her shoulders, thrusting deeper for a couple of moments. “Feel good?” You struggled to formulate a coherent response and decided on simply nodding between moans. Ellie took this as a sign to make up for lost time, fucking into you with such force you were sure she could feel it on her own end, getting closer to finally cumming. 

“Like that! Just like that!” ripped a scream from your lungs, satisfied with her rhythm having at last caught onto matching with her. She thought you were too fucking gorgeous of a girl that just looking at you had her loosing it, just seeing your expressions and the way your tits bounced so beautifully, revealing the stretch marks on their underside that she so loved to trace when the two of you laid in bed together; a live erotic portrait unable to be topped by even the masters themselves. Your arms locked around Ellie’s neck, taking her hostage in your grasp and moaning feverishly into the girl’s ears. Before one could get past your lips another would come, choking you on your own pleasure. “So fuckin good El’s.” If she was doing everything right then you wouldn’t have been able to speak, so she slipped an arm between your stomach and hers, pressing your abdomen down  while the other arm kept you locked in place for her to use and abuse. You yelped, surprised by the added pressure, now feeling her deeper than before. Your hands loosed around her neck, digging into her back possibly even drawing blood.

“Take it, pretty girl.” she cooed, wanting everyone on the street to know her name and how good she made you feel. Didn’t matter how late into the night it was. It wasn't long until you came unraveled under her, your thighs clenching in anticipation for the coming waves of your climax. “Atta girl, I got you,” she whispered, continuing her dangerous pounding. A banshee would’ve been disturbed by the sound of you two. Of course Ellie always had to get the last laugh. “Three,” she sighed, wiping away the beads of sweat that had formed on her clammy forehead, bits of her fringe stuck adhered to the skin. "Forgive me?"

Would you guys be interesting in full length fic? I had lot of fun writing this. :p

Original Release: 11/7/24 Edit: 11/8/24

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: sub!nerd!Mark x Dom!Reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Jerking him off. Oral. Slight edging. I'm like a broken record when it comes to writing about sucking Mark off, my b <3

| wc: 2.3k

Sometimes the best way for Mark to study was with an incentive system— A way for him to earn rewards if he did his work. He had a habit of getting disinterested in his work easily because you were a fantastic distraction from his textbooks, even if you weren’t doing a single thing aside from lounging on the couch in pajamas. Mark just… he couldn’t care less about anything else whenever you were around. You were his everything. But to you, his studies should have been his everything because he was so close to getting his master’s, it was stupid of him to throw that all away just because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. So you figured out when finals season approached and Mark was constantly throwing his work to the side to make out with you that if you gave him rewards for studying, Mark was eager to speed through his flashcards, textbooks, homework, and so on.

“When you’re done with your lab report, I’ll blow you.”

“When you’ve reviewed your final draft for your philosophy essay, you can kiss me.”

“Once you make your own comment on the assignment of the week, I’ll sit on your lap while you reply to two of your classmates’ comments.”

Mark had always been a good student, but somehow his grades were doing even better ever since you started the incentive idea. You were having to slow him down and stall on his rewards because, like a dog in training, he figured out that if he was a good student then you would touch him, so he was doing too much at once just for the chance to get your mouth on his cock, or even the opportunity to be inside of you. Usually he only got to fuck you after big projects worth about 20% of his grade… But since it was finals season, Mark was more worked up than usual, and he was incredibly stressed, so he was eager for more and more and more—

“I can’t keep doing this, baby, I’m too tired,” he whined, hiding his face in his hands before diving face-first against his open textbook. “If I have to read one more thing about how arteries work, I’m going to start tearing my hair out. Like, who doesn’t know this already! Why do I have to read seven chapters about bullshit I learned in high school!”

“How much more do you have left?” you asked, setting your phone to the side and sitting up on the couch.

“Two more chapters.”

“That’s nothing,” you whined back mockingly.

Mark lifted his head so that he could show you his pouting bottom lip and those big puppy-dog eyes behind his glasses. Why did you have to fall in love with a hot nerd, huh? A nerd would have sufficed. Or a hot jock. But a hot nerd was your kryptonite, and even though you knew he was baiting you to get what he wanted, there was no denying that he was irresistible when he was wearing his glasses, his hair long was a mess, and his pajamas were shifting around just enough to let you see the outline of his abs under his shirt and his cock in his pants. Ugh, he knew how to get you.

“Finish this chapter first,” you said, hoping to buy yourself some time.

Mark perked up thanks to the mysterious hope you’d provided him. His eyes began scanning the chapter at the normal, quick pace you were familiar with when he wasn’t protesting the idea of studying; and in the meantime, you pushed yourself off the couch and walked towards Mark. He hesitated briefly, but his gaze didn’t leave the textbook. He warily flipped the page, revealing that he was on the last few paragraphs before the next chapter. You watched over his shoulder to put some pressure on him to actually read and not just fuck around because even though you weren’t a nerd like him, you’d learned enough during his “rewards” to catch on whenever he was lying about doing his work just to get what he wanted.

“Done,” he cheered victoriously.

“How long’s the next chapter?”

Mark flipped a few pages in search of the chapter he didn’t have to read for homework. Six pages later, he found it and pointed.

“You think you can last ‘til then?”

Mark looked confused. “For what?”

With a wicked grin, you dropped down to your knees then crawled under the dining room table where Mark had set up shop with all of his study material in preparation for finals. You were having to eat meals on the couch since there was no room at the table anymore.

“Read the chapter aloud so I know you’re not lying,” you told him casually as you pried his knees apart to make room for yourself to settle between his legs. Mark leaned back so that he could watch you for a moment. “Don’t lose track of your spot either.”

As you grabbed the hem of his pajama pants, Mark aided your attempt to undress him by lifting his hips so that you could pull the fabric down, then he resettled on the wooden chair. Mark wasn’t unfamiliar with being naked on that chair— You liked to tie his hands behind his back and have him sit on that chair while you rode him until his head was spinning and he couldn’t get out a single word.

When you wrapped your hand around his length, Mark gulped, but he remembered what you wanted him to do in order to earn his reward, so he leaned forward again to put his focus on the last chapter of the night. You didn’t do anything to distract him for a bit. Despite his growing eagerness as shown by his hardening cock in your hand, you didn’t move or do something new— So Mark began reading the chapter aloud. Honestly, you weren’t paying attention. A lot of the science shit he studied went over your head, so even though you heard the words and learned a thing or two here and there, you never really… absorbed everything like he did…

Mark concentrated on the words in front of him, and as he began the next paragraph, that was when you began slowly pumping your hand up and down his long dick. He moaned suddenly. His ability to keep reading coherently faded, so you stopped your motions. Mark immediately bucked his hips upward to encourage you to keep going, but so long as he wasn’t studying, you weren’t going to give him his reward. When he recuperated, Mark slowly started reading again… You took a moment to believe him that he was actually ready, then you continued when you were doing. Mark moaned, but before you could stop again, he raced to keep reading at a faster pace, likely in the hopes that you would put him in your mouth or ride him, or let him fuck you…

Your tongue flicked Mark’s tip suddenly. The words of the textbook got caught in his throat, and within an instant he was leaning back to look down at you, his glasses hanging low on the bridge of his nose. You stopped to look up at him. He whined at the lack of stimulation, but you grinned while cocking your head to the side, waiting for him to say something, to admit that he wanted more, or perhaps he would silently return to his work. In fact, that was what he did. He read the next line casually to give you time to get back to what you were doing. Two lines later, you caught him off guard by sucking him off again, your tongue swirling around his tip, your fingers playing with his base and even teasing his balls a bit to really get him worked up.

The third page turn marked him reaching the halfway point of the chapter without any more issues. He did his best to ignore you so that he could focus on his work, despite the fact that you were slowly working his cock towards an orgasm which you didn’t plan on giving him quite yet. He knew that. He read as fast as he could in order to complete the assignment sooner, but every time he fucked up a word or lost his place in the paragraphs, you paused to give him a chance to figure out how to reset. Unfortunately, whenever you stopped, you also edged him. He hated that. But you loved how cute he sounded when he was all submissive and desperate.

By the fifth page, Mark was losing it. He was stuttering through every word, moaning between sentences, begging for more at the end of paragraphs. You tried to show him a little bit of mercy by going slower so that you didn’t have to edge him as often, but even that couldn’t really help Mark. Poor thing. Before you, he didn’t have a lot of experience— A personal choice until he met you. He’d only kissed a guy, some friend of his, and one girl in middle school; and he fully intended on never thinking about dating again until after his PhD when he could think about getting married. However, he saw you in his ethics class, a required course which he was less than excited to be attending instead of the courses required for his master’s degree, and once he laid eyes on you, he knew that he had to have you, but there was one thing in his way. He definitely didn’t deserve you. The fact that you were so gorgeous and perfect and amazing and— Mark couldn’t believe that someone like you would look twice in his direction. What he failed to recognize, though, was that he was actually way out of your league, according to you, so you couldn’t believe that someone as handsome as Mark Lee would even glance at you.

Now there the two of you were, moved in together, happily dating, supporting each other through your degrees, and even teasing the idea of marriage whenever Mark got really sappy during cuddle-time late at night. His experience obviously grew in that time too. Mark liked to experiment with his sexuality, and that led him to discovering that he liked being submissive from time to time, especially when it came to things like rewards and punishments— Having structure in his life provided by someone else gave him comfort.

“Can I cum?” he asked suddenly.

You pulled off of him.

“Wait, wait, please, don’t stop—”

“You have to finish the chapter first.”

Mark shuddered. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. I believe in you, baby.”

He swallowed a moan then continued reading. Something, something, arteries, something, something, blood, something— “I’m close! No, no, no…” His knuckles turned white as his fists tightened when you edged him again. Something, something… Nutrients… Something… Hormones… “Okay, I’m done, I finished, please!”

Sitting up on your knees slightly, you were able to angle yourself better to sink your mouth down over his tip while your hand continued to jerk off the first few inches down at his base. Mark grabbed your hair to hold onto something for balance. He didn’t push you down or buck upwards. He just let you take the lead while he used you to keep himself sane. Slowly, you swallowed every inch until there was no more room for your hand, and you could feel him tickling the back of your throat, which was uncomfortable just enough to cause you to go back up. Mark moaned with relief. Feeling your cheeks hollow out, your tongue dragging along his length, and your saliva coating every inch of him made his eyes roll behind those handsome glasses of his.

“Can I cum?” he begged desperately.

“Yeah,” you mumbled before sinking back down.

Mark squirmed, his tip hitting the inside of your wet cheek, then he thrusted upwards until he hit the back of your throat again, and even though you gagged a bit, he moaned and started cumming. He panted breathlessly through it. There wasn’t a lot since you’d drained him throughout the past couple of days, but the orgasm was strong enough that he threw his head back and clenched his thighs around your shoulders.

“F-feels so good… Fuck… Thank you… Thank you…”

As his orgasm passed, he slumped in the chair. You allowed him a minute to catch his breath while you also used that time to swallow every drop he gave you while also trying to regain your composure.

“Fuck, I’ve got a headache now.” Mark reached to help you to your feet.

You kissed his forehead. “Take a break from studying, then, we’ll get some rest for a bit.” You continued to hold his hands as you pulled him to his feet too then calmly led him to the bedroom. Mark crashed on the bed in an instant. “Gotta take these off first, babe.” You carefully slid his glasses off his face and set them on his bedside table. “There you go.”

Mark grabbed your waist and pulled you on top of him to cuddle close and nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck lovingly. “Do you think I’m going to pass my bio exam?”

“You’re studying more often than not, so, yes.”

He chuckled. “You’re biased.”

“Then why’d you ask me, silly?”

Mark squeezed you tight and rolled over so that you were laying beside him, giving you ample room to squeeze him back. “Thank you,” he said. “You’ve helped me a lot this semester.”

You kissed the top of his head and played with the end of his long hair that laid against the back of his neck. “Any time.”

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[teambyler]

Will, Mike, the inevitable "they're gay" accusations they'll face, and MIKE'S CHOICE

We gay guys are known for having good fashion sense. =) Look at WILL rocking the hair and outfit!

So now I'm asking myself:

Does Will come out at Hawkins High? (Either on his own or he gets outed?)

I've always thought that Will's hero journey and the "emotional arc" we're promised for him will include his coming out and standing up for himself.

Add to this the theme of bullying that started in Season 1, which probably comes back with a vengeance when the Hellfire Club is blamed for opening the gate. Lucas is no longer one of the "cool kids" anymore. Everyone turns against them.

Which means our Core Four will bond once again as the "losers" they were in Season 1, but this time it's more intense.

Add to THAT the return to Hawkins of Will, who already was bullied for being gay for years. He and Mike likely become close again (and what a 'GAY' thing to do to take a kid to school together =P ), and we know that "Gay Will" will give a pining glance at Mike that someone is bound to notice.

If this show stays true to its themes and is realistic, then of course the Gay Accusations will get leveled at Mike also.

It's one of the most obvious ways to explore Mike's coming out journey. There are so many reasons for doing it this way: it signals Mike might be gay/bi to the audience naturally, it would give a reason for Mike to still not confess after learning the Painting Lie, and it forces Mike to make a choice.

We Bylers understand that Mike is dealing with internalized homophobia. He even seems to regress to his more conservative clothing from earlier seasons, maybe to try to hide from the anti-Hellfire bullying AND gay accusations.

But would our Mike let anyone harm Will? Of course not! Will this be one of the promised instances of "leader Mike" this season? (Is this how Mike gets that bruise on his face?)

Give it to us, Duffers!

Just sayin'.

-teambyler

[aviiarie]

found family with Giyuu and his tsuguko (platonic ofc). like, imagine eating together, or helping each other with little things (like brushing hair or sharpening swords for the other) or protecting each other in fights.

˚ ₊ ‧ ♡ EVERY BREATH; EVERY HEARTBEAT — platonic giyuu & reader !

synopsis. moments with giyuu and his tsuguko. warnings. kny-typical violence. manga spoilers. notes. PLATONIC. reader uses water breathing. gn!reader. headcanons. found family. 1.1k words. i'm so sorry for how late this request is. i went with a headcanon format, i hope you enjoy <33

Giyuu had high expectations of them. He made that very clear from the beginning; if they were to be the next water hashira, they needed to be strong, capable. They needed to be able to match him in skill—and eventually, exceed him.

It's lucky for him that his tsuguko was a quick learner.

“Don't slouch,” Giyuu's face remains expressionless, but there was a slight pinch between his eyebrows that betrayed a barely hidden frown. “Keep your back straight, and your feet shoulder-width apart. If your weight isn't evenly distributed, you'll be knocked over as soon as you swing your sword.”

They quickly adjust their stance, gripping the hilt of their sword tightly. Their feet shift, one pointed forward and the other angled outward, with their body positioned in a slight crouch.

“Better.” Giyuu nod. “In an actual fight, you won't have time to focus on keeping your posture correct. You need to be able to rely on muscle memory, to fall into a fighting stance without even thinking about it.”

“How do I do that?” They ask, still frozen in where they stood. Their arm was beginning to ache from holding up their sword for so long, so they lower it to their side.

“You will learn.” He says simply. “Don't put down the sword just yet. We're not quite done.”

He's patient with his student, but is still as strict on them as he has to be. The last thing he wants is to go too soft on them, because he knows just how dangerous their profession is.

When they're out on missions together, he's very protective. Of course, he lets them fight—they're a capable Demon Slayer, after all—but the second he sees that they're starting to struggle, he steps in and kills the demon before they can blink.

It's just instinct. He'll hang back to let them prove their skills, but when they're hit with a particularly painful blow, his body moves on its own accord. He can't risk losing someone else, not to another demon.

Rather than going to the butterfly house for every injury, Giyuu is most often the one to help patch them up after fights. He isn't as skilled in medical treatment, but he has enough knowledge and is twice as gentle as Shinobu is, so he's their first choice.

While he's cleaning and bandaging their cuts and scrapes, he lets them squeeze his arm as tightly as they need to. He doesn't even complain when their nails dig into his skin.

Afterwards, he'll cook meal for them both—their favourite, if he's able to make it. they eat together, in a comfortable quiet. He's never been much for talk during meals, but he enjoys the company greatly.

For their first few meals together, neither said anything at all. But after a while, after they started to become more comfortable with each other, soon their silence started to be filled with something more.

“Why did you become a Demon Slayer?” The question makes Giyuu falter for a moment. His chopsticks, still raised to his lips, were slowly lowered away from his face.

“Why did I become a Demon Slayer?” He echos the question, making sure he heard them correctly. They nodded, and he sighed. “For no happy reasons.”

They're quiet for a moment, staring down at their food. “...I guess I can say the same.”

“It's quite a popular answer, among Slayers.” Giyuu says bluntly, returning to eating.

Maybe one day, he'll be able to properly explain the story to them without breaking his impassive facade, but even the slight memory is enough to force cracks into his blank expression. He focuses on the food in front of him, inhaling the rich smell and pushing away the clouding thoughts in his mind.

“What would you do if you weren't a Demon Slayer?” The second question almost makes him choke on his mouthful of food.

“Does it matter?” He swallows, staring at them blankly.

“No,” They shrug, not meeting his eye. “Just curious, I guess.”

Conversations were tentative at first, but he slowly opens up to them. They talk about their lives, before and after becoming Demon Slayers. Soon they move to trivial matters as well, favourite colours and favourite foods, random memories and amusing stories.

Then, it's the small moments between fighting and training. Giyuu helps them by sharpening their sword, and they help him with cleaning his after a mission. It all becomes a routine, and they fit into his life like they were always there, as if they've been a part of his family all along.

While he only intended to take on a tsuguko to train a successor, he ends up growing very fond of them. It becomes harder for him to send them out on missions, even they've grown strong enough to be able to fight on their own.

It's during the final battle that his sudden protectiveness towards them is tested, as he is forced to watch them almost die in the fight against Upper Moon Three.

For a moment, Giyuu's heart stops beating. He watches, paralyzed, as the demon—Upper Moon Three, the fourth strongest demon in the world—turns his attention towards his tsuguko. Their sword is raised in defense, lips parted to spit out the words that he taught them.

“Third Form—” The cry is cut off, as a fist is slammed into their stomach with enough force to tear through their skin and leave a mess of blood in its wake.

“Giyuu!” Their scream feels as heavy as the wounds weighing Giyuu down, but he doesn't stop; not even for a moment. He lunges forward, swinging his blade.

“Second Form, Water Wheel!” Giyuu yells, slashing the sword across the demon's shoulder and slicing his arm clean off. The attack distracts him long enough for [Name] to stumble back and away, pressing against the wound on their stomach to staunch the bleeding.

If there was any reason to keep fighting, even when weariness claws at his lungs and presses tightly against his chest, it was to stop the demons from taking anyone else. Tanjiro is ready beside him, and the grip on his sword is tight.

“Water Breathing, Tenth Form: Constant Flux!”

The aftermath is heavy on them both, but they aren't alone. Together, they begin to rebuild their lives in the wreckage of the Demon Slayer Corps, forging a new future for themselves. And no matter where that future takes them, Giyuu will be there to support them.

They aren't alone. No matter how many people who have been lost, they aren't alone, and as long as he is still alive, he will make sure they never will be.

Family is a difficult subject for Giyuu, but in them, that is exactly what he finds.

🏷️ taglist: @mollzaj, @mitsvriii, @an-angstyteen

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Wanderer

Adar x reader | SMUT🔞

You meet an elf, a wanderer and quickly take him into your life, only to later learn he is no elf at all

That fix-it fix that's like, a month too late

Adar stood in the midst of the battlefield, Elrond at his feet.

But he paid the elven warrior no mind, for he had much greater things in his posession.

Nenya hung from a chain between his fingers, gleaming in the dim light cast over the fields of death.

Adar had what he required, and sounded the horns of retreat.

But across the borders of Mordor none his children had caught sight of their Lord Father.

No, for he had not returned to his lands. He had found himself in a state of fear upon the discovery of Nenya's powers as he sat at the river's edge where he took in his reflection that no longer matched him.

His hand lifted to his face and felt no scarring, only soft flesh. He retreated his hand and brought it into view and found a light pink hue where a dull gray was supposed to be.

With quick and frantic movements he discarded his gauntlet and revealed the lack of black charred skin. Next was his armor and chainmaille, together with the lift of his heavy cotton tunic. The ring on his hand glimmered in his sight and it clicked.

It had healed him.

Wounds that had endured ages, leftovers of torture and remainders of darkest days all were no longer. And thus he wondered.

His children had retreated further into the lands of Mordor, and the elves had fled Eregion. It meant the lands around him were cleared of threats, or at least he expected them to be.

He discarded the guards tied around his boots and hid them along with his armor, setting off in the direction of the fallen city where he raided homes for food and cloth.

Once fed and changed into clean, gorgeously embroidered elven attire, with his hair tied in a traditional style the reflection he looked at in the mirror was no longer Adar.

He could blend now, wander and exsist freely. All he had to do was keep the ring hidden.

And so he wandered. For weeks, months he traveled. Never staying in one place long and avoiding settlements where he could run into familiar faces.

"Ah, apologies sir." A thud against his side had Adar stop examining the arrangements of products in the market stall and look beside him where the kind voice spoke to him.

A woman stood beside him, the stall long forgotten as she stared in awe. It was strange, to be almost gawked at like this, but he would lie if he said that he preffered the looks doubt and distrust of others.

"Do you wish to see, my lady?" With a kind gesture he stepped aside and led the lady to his spot. He watched the exchange and was caught off guard as he was offered half of her purchase.

"Please, I cannot accept this." Adar held up his hands, he had money to pay for his own food. Taking from others was his way no longer.

"Then you come eat with me." You stood your ground against the elf before you. "I insist."

You were persistant, and while he preffered to stay on his own he could not deny the pull at his heart with how you looked at him and showed him kindness.

With a curt bow he accepted, and allowed you to lead him to a quiet area where you sat down and unpacked your basket.

"I haven't seen you around here before." You wondered out loud, hoping to get a little conversation out of the beautiful stranger.

"I travel. I wander around and never stay in one place for long. It is not strange you haven't seen me before as this is the first time I have come by this place." He picked at the fruit in his hands, taking off small chunks to eat.

The back and forth of casual conversation was a delight to Adar, all up to the point of you mentioning never having introduced yourself with a shy laugh. You offered your name and wished for his in return.

His mind panicked. He had never yet needed a name, seeing most folk left him alone and no one had indulged enough to ask him.

He needed an answer quick. He took to looking down at the table as if to take more food and his eyes fell on the silver embroidery of the moon phases on the edge of his sleeve.

"You may call me Raun. For the moon that has guided my path for many ages." He glanced up for a short moment before picking up an apple to snack on.

"Raun," You gave the name a try and smiled. "It suits you. The color of your eyes and robe match it as well." You had already noticed Raun's beautiful greyish blue eyes were easy to get lost in.

He enjoyed listening to you talk about things he should go see in the area, describing them with great detail. Your voice was like music to his ears.

Halfway into a sentence you stopped and let out a soft laugh, earning a confused look from the elf across from you.

Without another word you reached over to him, your fingers lightly touching his cheek as you brushed a piece of apple peel off the corner of his mouth. Your hand lingered with how it felt like Raun leaned into the touch and placed his hand over yours then, turning his head ever so slightly to press a soft kiss to your palm.

He was so touch starved his body acted on its own, quickly retreating once he realized his actions.

Stammering out an apology was all he managed before you were grabbing his hands into yours. "It's okay." Your touch calmed him and he dared lifting his gaze back up from the table.

The smile you held was genuine, it was as clear as day to him and he wished to hold your hands forever.

Adar had been deprived of kindness from anyone but his kin for as long as his memories let him recall, the softness of elven touch seeping into his veins and reviving his rotten heart.

"I do believe you deserve a genuine apology. My actions should have not be so sudden. I must admit it seems I have missed the touch of another for so long I reacted too strongly. " There was shame in his tone, and you wondered what caused him to feel such negativity. You'd set the question aside for later and opted for rubbing comforting circles over his knuckles. He missed touch, so you'd touch him.

Your gentle touches were clearly having an effect on him and you decided to give the interesting elf what he needed most.

"Where are you staying?" Your question pulled his gaze off your still connected hands. "If you want we can wander the area together? I'll pick you up at the inn."

The truth was a sad one. One he almost did not dare to speak aloud. With the fall of Eregion there were no inns left in the are that had space for travelers like him. But the thought of leaving again right after this delightful meeting felt like a stab to the chest.

"The inns are all full of refugees." Ones he had made to leave himself. He and his kin, too focused on taking Sauron's life that everything else became unimportant. His blindness had come to bite him in the ass.

"The elves who resided in Eregion traveled as far as here to find shelter, I forgot about that.." You sighed at the reminder of how cruel the world could be.

"You can stay at my place, if you wish?" It was a careful offer, unsure how the wanderer liked getting close to people on his stops. His raised brows and wide eyes came as a surprise to you, immediately agreeing with your plans was not something you expected he'd do.

Adar was intrigued to say the least. He normally would run at the offer, afraid his sherades would fall through but now he was getting excited to follow you instead.

It is how the two of you ended at your home. You showed him around and let him take in your collection of writing while you prepared a simple dinner.

You had denied Raun's request to help you cook enough times to have him give up and retreat back to your collection of books until you called him back to share dinner.

Only when you were finished you allowed him to help you clean up, he would not let it slide if you denied him again.

You had Raun put away the last plate as you wiped down the counter, not leaving your place a mess now that you had a houseguest.

The touches you had shared, and brushed off as accidental or bound to happen while cleaning together had Adar craving more.

On his way back his eyes were stuck you your frame, working to finish your task and loving how your garment sat on your frame so well. Adar let his heart win over his mind and moved towards you, his hands finding your hips and his lips finding the tip of your ear as you jumped at the touch.

"Apologies, I did not mean to frighten you." You melted at the sound of his voice. Feeling his breath against your ear had you lean into him entirely. His cheek rested against yours as you laid your head back against him, turning ever so slightly to look him in the eye. Again your touches were answered with the smallest peck, this time to the corner of your mouth.

Yet you found him a little too careful and turned around between him and the counter you leaned against, only to wrap your arms around his neck and pulling him into the kiss he had wanted to give you.

The intimacy of the moment seared all Adar's nerves, his tongue less than gently making it past your lips and hoisted you on top of the just cleaned counter. There was nothing elven in his actions, but you were enjoying his ministrationa too much to care. The way he skillfully undid your garment without an ounce of hesitation just added to the ever growing curiosity.

And in this moment your curiosity had set on finding out what was underneath his robes.

Shortly all parts of garments were all over the floor and your hands were grasping long strands of dark hair in bliss. You watched as Raun feasted on you, tongue alternating between lapping at your clit and pressing into you, his hands a tight grip on your legs. The rumble of his voice as he hummed in pleasure only had you whine louder, clenching your walls around nothing and begging. Begging for him to fill you, to stand up and let you please him as well. The pull at his roots only made him add more pressure to your clit, and with only a few more calculated flicks of his tongue he had you coming with a loud moan of his name.

"R.. Raun please," You weren't given a moment to catch your breath as his tongue was replaced by his fingers nestling deep inside of you, curling them to rub at your most sensitive spot.

The way his new name sounded, moaned out like that made him appriciate it. He suddenly no longer minded his panicked answer. If it was for you, he would be Raun for as long as you'd have him.

"Please what, my sweet girl?" His tongue found your lips and licked them before pulling you into another passionate kiss, having you taste yourself on him. "Tell me your desires.." The hand not currently pleasing you found your chest, softly kneading. "I cannot tend to your needs if you do not tell me."

You were beyond ready for him, he must know this. Then why was he teasing you so much? It was strange how he acted but it made the act so much more pleasurable.

"I.. I want you inside." Speaking your wants out loud was so unlike you, and Raun chose to make it worse. "But love, I already am." He spoke as another finger joined the two already toying with your walls.

With his palm pressing against your clit he made it even more difficult for you to speak. "Hahh.. you know whh.. what I mean.." Your words drew out into mewls and whines.

"My poor, shy Elleth. Am I to guess what you wish for?" You couldn't get enough of his voice, but in turn could not get yours to function. So with your hands you showed him what you desired. You pulled his hips flush with yours, snaking your hand inbetween your bodies and taking his length in hand to press the tip at your entrance.

Much to your pleasure Raun had taken your wordless actions and moved to lazily thrust into you, barely an inch at a time to ease himself all the way in until hiships were flush with yours at the edge of the counter.

To give you a moment to adjust to the fullness he pressed his lips against yours in a heated kiss, your tongues brushing along each other as large hands held you in place until you both ran out of breath.

Panting your foreheads rested together, a smile on your face that had Adar's mind beg him to stay just a little longer each time he saw it.

With his hands on your hips he set a steady rhythm that had you gasp and moan, clamping your legs around his waist which only made him go deeper.

"Hah.. Raunn.." You moaned against his temple as he had his mouth at your neck, biting and licking. Only leaving marks where he was sure only he would see them. With each scrape of his teeth your fingers tightened around the strands of hair you held.

"Do you wish to finish, my sweet?" His hips kept up their pace, the drag of his cock inside of you almost making you see stars. You nodded against him and he grunted in response. You could feel his thrusts getting sloppier and his panting picked up against your skin, making you tighten your grip on his waist and letting out soft moans right at his ear.

Oh how he loved your noises. And the way your legs clamped around his body felt so good. One of his hands left your hips to rub circles on your clit, to pull you over the edge with him as he finished, spilling deep inside of you with a groan muffled by your shoulder.

Your palm rested against the back of his head as you caught your breaths. You felt Raun's cock slide out of you as he stepped back to give you space to stretch your legs.

"That was.. definitely not elf-like." A tired smile was all you could give him as he laughed softly at your comment. "I suppose I shall take that as a compliment, yes?" He held his hands out for you to hop down the counter, but your legs failed you and had you tumble face first into Raun's chest. To answer his comment you just nodded into his chest, humming affirmingly.

"You look ripe for bed, shall I take you?" Another nod and a quiet "yes, please." left your wobbly self before you were picked up and took you to the bedroom, where you dis not want to let him leave. "Hmmno, you're warm. Stay?"

And so he stayed. He let you rest for a moment but eventually you ended up tangled under your sheets once again. Sleep didn't come until early that morning.

Over the course of weeks, you had the company of Raun wherever you found yourself. Holding hands out and about at the market or wandering the woods. At home there was not a room or surface left that hadn't been defiled. Raun had shown you everything he said he had picked up during his thousands of years among other races and communities. You loved his roughness in bed, the way he'd manhandle you on top of the dinnertable or make you cum on his tongue time after time before holding you in a bruising grip as he ravaged you.

Adar felt like he was risking way too much for one elf, but the longer he spent in your presence the less he worried. Nor thought of his old self.

The longer he stayed with you, saw himself as he was now the more he felt like his new identity. Raun was who he was now and how he introduced himself as well. No longer 'just a wanderer' or a dismissive answer to the question once someone cared ebough to ask.

Although some nights when he sat awake by himself he felt like he was lying to you, he was content as your elven lover. The worry was only a small negative compared to the large amount of positive you had brought him.

He even agreed to go see some event happening in the area. You stood together in the crowd, not entirely front row but you had a clear enough view of it all.

Royal elves came to see communities near Eregion where refugees had fled to, bringing assistance where needed. You found them to be a little late, but appriciated the gesture. While you were having a good time watching, you could feel Raun's restless energy. You had questioned him but all he blamed it on was the large crowd of people.

Adar felt sick, trying to hide his shaking hands as he watched the high king greet people. His worry of him somehow sensing another ring being in his presence was almost overwhelming.

Almost.

And then his hand was grabbed and soft pads traced over his knuckles. You grounded him for a moment. Just enough to get his breathing in check and calm his racing mind. He gave himself a moment to say thanks with a soft kiss to the side of your head, life was suddenly less anxiety inducing in that moment.

When he dared to look back to the event happening his world sank back into panic. The grip on your hand was almost bruising, pulling you from your excitement to see Lady Galadriel being her perfect self. You pulled your hand free from Raun's grasp with a quick look towards him and saw nlthing but fear in his eyes and on the other end of you you could see Lady Galadriel look directly your way.

No, not your way. She looked at Raun.

"My sweet, I need to leave. I'm not feeling well I'm afraid." There was a tremble in his voice. It was enough to convince you to leave with him instead of having him head back home by himself.

The second you alowed him he took long strides out the back of the crowd, his hand still in yours as to not lose you. He couldn't deal with that now, he needed you with him.

"Can you please tell me what's wrong?" You were catching your breath from having to kesp up with his long strides across the whole area. Raun had taken you to the other end from where the event was happening and no longer felt the stare af the back of his head.

"I promise I will explain later. Now I prefer to go home and calm my mind if you are okay with it. I had hoped to keep your calming presence at my side." You tried to pin any logic to the whole situation but all you saw was what reminded you of a young child clinging to his mother's dress for safety and comfort. So you let him hold on to you and carefully made your way home.

Raun convinced you to take a more scenic route trough the woods. To calm him, he said. You let him lead the way, nowadays familiar with the woods surrounding your home you knew he told the truth about wanting to go back to the house you shared, but the quiet stroll through the woods didn't last long enough to reach it.

"Hold it right there, orc." It was unmistakably lady Galadriel's voice that called out and made you look around in panic. Orcs? This close to your home? Had they truly become this ruthless, to start attacking settlements for no reason?

Your mind raced until the lady was right in front of you, a blade to Raun's neck and a sneer on her face.

"You believed you could run off without us finding you? Hand me back my ring this instant." The blade at the now elf's throat pressed hard against his skin, close to breaking it.

"Please." You called out to Galadriel, hoping she'd see her mistake. "I may not know who you are searching for, but I can assure you Raun is not him. He has been in my company for--"

"Let me guess, a short while after Eregion fell?" Her blade never left Raun's throat, even as she looked at you and your still intertwined hands.

"He has been deceiving you with this fair form. A trick he has no doubt learned from Sauron himself." Her angry stare moved back to Raun next to you, who's look turned from fearful to enraged in a fraction of a second. Witg a snap that had the blade at his thoat break the skin he barked at her.

"Don't EVER compare me to that filth. You know he has tricked us both with the one thing you accuse me of doing." The blood ran down the front of his garment and yet he showed no sign of discomfort.

You stood among them as if you did not exsist in this exchange, and it hurt you to be left out. You watched as Raun composed himself with a grounding breath.

"If I were to return your ring willingly, are you willing to let me roam free? I have no more desire to fight, in all my ages I have seen too much torture and death." His gaze landed back on you. "If you allow it, I'd prefer to live my in peace. I shall leave and asure our paths may never cross once more."

"You know she will leave. You have been lying to her from the second you met. Do you truly believe you deserve any better than execution?" The more you listened to Galadriel's words the more confused you became.

And then Raun's hand slipped from yours, the softest apology fell from his lips before he slipped the silver ring from his finger and held it out for Galadriel to take.

"Goneho nin." He could do nothing more than apologize. Adar's trembling voice made him despise himself. Lady Galadriel was right in all her accusations. He had lied to you, so much that it had slowly starting to morph into a new false reality.

The silver ring slipped from his finger and laid in his palm, waiting for Galadriel's hand. But that wasn't what your eyes were focused on even with how gorgeously it gleamed in the broken sunlight between the trees.

No, your eyes were settled on Raun, who's skin lost all color. His eyes dulled and scarred patterns knitted their wat over the side of his face. Against the palm of your hand you felt skin warp and you pulled back in horror. You tried to understand but you couldn't. The hand you just so affectionately held was blackened, burned beyond repair.

"R.. Raun?"

Without looking at you he shook his head. He did not dare to look you in the eye in fear of losing something genuinely good.

"Love," You weren't calling him by a name this time, unsure how he would respond.

"Will you please grant me a proper look at you. Do not listen to her words regarding me. I make my own choices and leaving isn't one of them, even with what I am seeing right now."

It was Galadriel's turn to look at you with a look of surprise. "How can you stay after seeing proof of his lies?" She was convinced she was right, that her view was the only correct one but you knew the man you only knew as Raun to have been truthful in his words regarding you.

"I stay because I listen. You heard him say he is done with war. He wishes to be left alone and live quietly, as do I." Your eyes once more set on the now scarred man beside you. Your hand ever so carefully taking his scarred one.

"And I, for one, do believe people can change their hearts. And as long as his heart is good I do not care if he is not Raun the elf. You make it sound like I should be repulsed by him and I am not." You gave Galadriel one last stern glare.

"Leave us alone and we'll disappear. We'll find a place to live outside of elven lands and bother no one."

She ignored your words and looked to your partner for confirmation. And he spoke. On his own behalf and yours.

"If you do not believe her than that is your choice. If we cannot stay here then we shall leave and find another place to live. You know for a fact I have no trouble living in less than luxurious circumstances."

While the other two spoke your mind kept tossing questions your way. Ones you surely had to discuss later, after figuring out what your partner's name was, if not the one he had given you.

It seemed Galadriel had given the okay to move on away from elven lands, seeing she bid you farewell and left with her reclaimed ring.

You wanted to ask your partner to look at you, to turn around and look at you on his own accord and not jump in front of him to get a good look and bombard him with questions.

"I don't know what to call you, but would you please allow me to look at you?" Your hand found his again, gently carressing the scarring.

"I prefer to go home first, then discuss all you wish inside where I am not to be seen by others." He kept his gaze low to the ground and started towards your home at the sound of your okay.

You walked behind him in silence, letting him set the pace and respecting his boundaries still. Only once you were home you dared to glance for longer moments.

With a long drawn out sigh, Adar sat down in your reading nook, pressed against the pillows you so enjoyed laying against and beckoned you over. You followed his every gesture and sat down with him between where he had one leg propped up on the bench and the other rested off it.

Instead of allowing you to stare and touch he carefully maneuvered you with your back against his chest, pausing every move to make sure you were still consenting to be so close to him.

Way easier than he expected you were settled against him, arms raised and fingers tangled in his hair. You still saw nothing of him besides his hands. One covered in blackened scars and the other adorning a once large cut now healed over to just a raised line on grey skin. With his hands resting on your stomach he started to talk.

"The elf you saw before was my former self. One with a name long forgotten, and I no longer feel belongs to me." One of his hands trailed up to find your hand and softly guided your fingers to his scarred face.

"I am Adar, ancient compared to your fairly young self. No longer of the Eldar but now uruk." With his hand on yours he brushed along his temple.

"I have deceived you, using the ring to hide among the masses. But while my physical form changed, my heart and mind have not. My feelings toward you still remain."

Your hands retracted and you slowly made a move to turn around, onto your stomach to finally look at him properly.

"Adar.." You tested his name as you took all of him in much like you had that first day you met, and oh how the name left your mouth watering.

"So, you didn't pick up all those things on your ages of wandering." Your fingers were back to tracing the scars that adorned Adar's face, humming contently as he shook his head.

"I did not, no. That was all uruk." There was almost a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

You then sat up, bunching up your dress and straddled him. Hands eagerly pulling at his garment to get it off.

"Let me see more of you, Adar the uruk." Your lips found his and moaned into the kiss as you rolled your hips.

Adar recalled Galadriel's words for a second and smiled into the kiss at how wrong she was. He deepened the kiss with a hand in your hair and his tongue down your throat.

His free hand found your hip, a bruising grip on it to assist your movements on his hardening cock.

"Are you asking to be ravished, my sweet?" His much raspier voice only made you groan out in pleasure.

"Please, Ada.." Your mouth was at his ear now, tongue lapping at the edge which only made his fingers dig deeper in your soft flesh.

With a growl he switched positions by rolling you off the bench and onto the floor with a thud, not caring about being gentle with his elven lady anymore.

The look in his eyes was one of a hunter having caught his prey, ready to devour it. He shoved a knee between your legs, letting you rub yourself on his thigh as he made quick work of your dress and undergarments, tearing them off your body. His mouth was on your chest within seconds, leaving dark red marks all over you along with deep bitemarks. He bit at your skin, following a path from your neck down to your nipple, taking it between his teeth and pulling until you cried out.

In a short moment of rest you watched him pull the decorative rope off your curtains, closing them entirely to dim the room and used the rope to tie your wrists together. With skill he had your hands above your head and secured the rope.

"Now you keep those up there like a good little elleth." His teeth dragged over your ears as he commanded you.

"Y..yes, Adar." Your eyes followed his every move as he sat up on his knees.

The way he now towered over you sent heat straight to your core, even more so when he delicately untied his robe and let it fall to the floor.

The scars that started at his temples ran down his neck and over his torso, along with one full arm and hand. Some disappeared down the waistband of his trousers that you were eager to take off if your hands weren't bound.

Adar enjoyed the way you stared at him with hunger in your eyes. How your legs wriggled their way from underneath him and you toed at his trousers to get them off.

"My, my little elleth." With a deep, throaty laugh he hooked his fingers around the ties that held his pants up and tugged at them, the fabric immediately sagging at the loosened tension and being held in place by his hard cock.

You ached for him so bad you could only whine at the barrier of fabric still being in the way. He was playing unfair, getting you so turned on and then not allowing you to do anything you so desperately wanted. You almost thought to disobey him and grab at the cloth of his pants and take the punishment but for now you knew better than to draw attention with screams and cries. That was something for when you were somewhere far away from others.

"Show me, please?" A hum of contemplation left him as he tilted his head a little, making a show of pretending to thinkabout it before uttering a quiet "No."

In an instant he was pressed flush against you, trousers gone and his body hiding his length between the two of you. His face was barely an inch away from yours, hair hanging loose around his head. "You don't get to make any choices.." His drool covered tongue lolled out of his mouth and lapped over your lips, forcing your jaw apart and licking into your mouth. You tried to follow when he moved back, but only got snapped at. "You are my little plaything and you will take what I give you like a good pet."

Adar pressed his lips back against yours in a kiss that was more teeth and tongue, biting till you bled and smearing it across your lips and painting them red. He separated from you for a short moment, only to guide his cock to your entrance and in that moment you willed your eyes down his body and got a scarred hand to the jaw, pressing your face away to the side and growling deep in warning.

"S.. sorry.." You mumbled against his palm, looking up at the ceiling and obey his rules.

With your gaze fixed upward your head was released and Adar continued on to press the tip of his cock between your folds.

He felt different than before, spreading you wider now with only the head past your entrance. He didn't give you a chance to adjust as he kept rutting into you, a growl leaving him with every thrust.

His shape differed so much from before. He curved to perfectly rub against your most sensitive spot each time and you could feel thick ridges pull at your walls each time he pulled back.

"Big.. Slow pleaseee hurts.." You squirmed at his rough intrusion and you could feel parts stretch painfully that no one ever reached before.

Adar didn't reply, instead pulling your hips flush agains his making you scream from the pressure and altered his position to fuck into you even better. He had you folded between himself and the ground, teeth finding your chest and biting, leaving no skin ummarked as he continued his assault on your cunt.

"N.. no choices." He stammered with his cheek pressed against yours. His scarred hand holding your hips in place and the other held your wrists above your head.

His deep, erratic thrusts let you know he was getting close as well, chasing his release with harsh thrusts and panting breath. With each of your sounds, mewls and pleas his hand dipped lower down your body and found your clit. His rough fingers and cock combined were what sent you over the edge, walls clenching with a drawn out moan. The feeling of you finishing all over his length had Adar spilling deep within you with one last thrust, stilling entirely atop of you.

Adar's rough actions turned soft. Kind, nuzzling kisses and gentle touches to help you sit up and soothe your aching wrists that he unbound with care.

"I have not hurt you too much, have I?" With your discarded clothing he helped you clean up, his rough self now hidden behind caring actions.

"I'm alright. Just enough to not be too much." You smiled, wincing as he helped you up and took you to find clean garments and pack for your travels.

Adar carried the largest bag and kept away from people while you spent your last moments in your lands buying food that would last a while as you traveled.

As you left the community, your old life was behind you now. But in front of you was Adar, and you would walk to the end the world at his side.

[peachhcs]

https://www.tumblr.com/peachhcs/766163417530875904/httpswwwtumblrcompeachhcs765958548506198016

em darling you can’t leave it like that!!!! i need to know what happened next!!

like does she eventually call him or he does he just show up because he so worried and can’t stand being so far not knowing what wrongs with his girl.

i lowkey feel like he can’t even be mad after he hears her reasoning and hates that samy is still learning to trust him because he screwed up if anything it makes him want to keep working on gaining her trust fully back

please and thank you :)

part 6 i think??? this is my new favorite side plot going on 😌 also yes small cliff hanger it’s my favorite thing to do. also if u didn’t know samy’s middle name is poppy and i think it’s cute to make luke call her pop sometimes :)

au masterlist

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 7

will woke up the next morning with the immediate thought to check his phone. he scanned though all of his notifications, hoping and hoping there was at least one from samy or luke, but when the blonde saw nothing his heart sank.

she hates him. she forgot about him. she doesn’t care.

he started spiraling, a cloud of anxiety forming over his head, but will tried knocking some sense into himself. there was a chance she was just busy getting tests and results back. she might be with her parents, or on her way home? she was caught up in all of it, she just hadn’t called yet.

that was understandable. yeah. she wasn’t ignoring him because why would she? he was her best friend. her boyfriend. they literally grew up together and told one another everything.

will tried shaking himself from the dark thoughts as he pushed himself out of bed and made his best attempt to get ready for practice and the rest of the day. maybe she’d call when he was at practice!

he just needed to think positive.

will did what he could to distract his mind as he went through his usual morning routine. he brushed his teeth listening to some music, washed his face, sort of did his hair, and then went downstairs to figure out what was for breakfast.

patrick and christina were already downstairs along with the younger boys running around getting ready for school. the two glanced over at the blonde, trying to read his expression.

“hi will, how are you?” christinia wondered.

“i’m fine. doing fine,” will nodded, but he didn’t really sound convincing. patrick and his wife exchanged a glance.

“any updates?” patrick dared to ask.

“um, no. not yet,” will shook his head, his lips forming into a tight-lipped smile.

“i’m sure she’s just talking with the doctors and getting discharged and settling back into home,” christina assured, rubbing the younger boy’s shoulder like he was her own son.

“yeah, i know. that’s what i’m thinking,” will nodded, moving further into the kitchen to grab a bite to eat before he needed to pick up macklin. he needed to busy his mind or else it would be the only thing will would think about all day.

the marleau’s watched in slight worry, but they knew not to push too far. they knew will could handle himself and samy would call soon. the hockey player rushed out of the house in a quick goodbye, climbing into his car and driving off without a second thought. the ride was silent besides the soft hum of the radio playing and when he pulled up to his friend’s place he braved a smile.

“morning,” macklin mumbled, tired and dreary-eyed like he just woke up ten minutes ago. will nodded, pulling back onto the road towards the rink.

the silence wasn’t unusual for them. usually, it was pretty silent on their rides in because of how early it was and how little sleep they got the night before. macklin didn’t say a lot and neither did will which he was glad for because the blonde wasn’t sure if he’d be able to take the million questions macklin sometimes had for him.

“hey, did you hear anything more from samy? is she doing okay?” shit. there it was. the brunette’s curious gaze slid to will’s.

“uh, she had to get surgery on her shoulder. a tendon tear or something,” will swallowed thickly.

“oh, shit. that fucking sucks. is she doing alright? i’m sure that’s gotta put her out for awhile. i texted with her for a bit last night just to see how she was but she never told me that. wow,” macklin didn’t notice the way will’s grip on the steering wheel whitened his knuckles nor the way his jaw clenched.

how many more people were gonna tell him they talked to his girlfriend before he even did?

“you were texting her?” will couldn’t help the anger in his voice.

“yeah, just wanted to check in after seeing that hit. it was brief, but she said she was doing alright and i said i was sorry that happened and i hope she bounced back soon. she hearted the message,” macklin explained their entire exchange and even though it wasn’t even a lot, it made something stir in the blonde.

“so she can text my fucking teammate and not call me?” will huffed under his breath which macklin did catch this time.

“what?”

“she hasn’t said a word to me.”

“wait, what do you mean she hasn’t said a word to you? you just said she had to get surgery,” the younger brunette became confused.

“because i learned all of that from her brother. samy hasn’t called or texted me since it happened,” the anger didn’t disappear from will’s voice.

“seriously? you’re her boyfriend. why wouldn’t she call you?”

“i don’t know, you tell me man. i don’t really know what i did wrong or why she won’t talk to me. i’ve been trying to reach her since last night,” will finally cooled off a bit, but his grip on the steering wheel didn’t.

“well, shit. i’m sorry, i didn’t know that. maybe she’ll call while you’re at practice or something. i’m sure she means to there’s just a lot on her mind.”

“yeah, sure,” will wanted to believe that but he couldn’t after hearing how she’s spoken to everyone but him.

meanwhile, in boston, luke was sitting in samy’s room with her after their parents asked him to bring something up for her from the cafeteria. the siblings were sitting in silence, luke texting on his phone and samy just staring the wall. her mind was clouded with calling will—something she still hadn’t done yet.

finally, the older hughes brother caught onto his sister’s quietness. he lifted his gaze and noticed the way she stared off into space and waved his hand in front of her.

“hey, earth to samy?” the girl snapped out of her daze.

“huh?”

“you okay? you look..worse than i would expect you to look after breaking your shoulder,” luke raised his eyebrow at his wording making her roll her eyes.

“i’m fine,” samy mumbled.

“why do you lie every time you’re keeping something from me? you know i can tell every single time, right?” luke rolled his eyes this time.

“just got a lot on my mind, luke,” his sister grumbled.

“seriously, what’s up? if it’s about mom and dad you know i won’t tell. not anymore at least,” the curly-haired boy chuckled to himself thinking he was way too amusing while samy didn’t find any of it funny.

“it’s not about them. it’s nothing, i promise,” she tried getting him off her back.

the girl’s phone buzzed in her lap where her lock screen lit up. the two saw the picture of her and will as her background and then it quickly clicked in luke’s head.

“have you talked to him?”

samy’s silence was his answer.

“c’mon, pop. you know you can talk to me. i’m not gonna judge you or whatever,” luke’s tone fell softer, pulling out the nickname he only called her since they were kids.

“i want to call him, but i just can’t. i..i can’t do it.”

“why not? did something happen between you two again?”

“no, but that’s the problem. i’m worried something will happen—like i’ll burden him or some shit. or like..i’ll run him out again by relying on him for everything when i shouldn’t or don’t need to. i just..i didn’t wanna burden him with this knowing i’m fine and he has hockey to worry about,” the tears fell faster than samy could stop then or even process that she was really crying now—harder than when she talked with ryan and gabe yesterday.

luke’s face fell. he hated seeing his baby sister so upset, so he reached his arms out to gently wrap around her frame for a hug. he didn’t say anything, just letting her cry it out and feel all the emotions.

they stayed like that for another good minute before samy finally pulled away. she embarrassingly wiped her eyes from her tears while luke just rubbed her knee.

“i’m sorry. this is so stupid,” the brunette laughed dryly—her poor attempt at humor.

“hey, don’t apologize. this isn’t stupid. you’re allowed to cry,” luke reassured her.

“i just don’t know why i can’t just call him. maybe it’s the pity i hate? or that i know he’d offer to fly out and drop anything but i don’t want him to do that just for me,” samy rambled some more while her brother just listened and nodded.

“can i be honest with you, pop?” the older boy wondered and samy nodded.

“i think you’re scared to let people care deeply for you and about you. you know how much will cares about you and i think that scares you. especially since he also hurt you,” luke kept an even tone, but his expression was soft. “if i know anything about will it’s that i know how much he loves you. he’d do anything for you and yes, i know it’s scary knowing how much someone cares about you to do that. however, you’re not a burden. you’re not gonna run him out. you’re not gonna annoy him. he loves you and he genuinely cares about you, i promise.”

luke’s words made samy cry harder. she buried her face in her hand, the tears pouring from her eyes all while the older hughes did his best to comfort her.

“what if he breaks up with me again because i didn’t call him right away?” now there was a whole new wave of anxieties to worry about.

“he is not going to do that. if he does, i’ll fly to san jose myself and punch him, but he won’t. i’m sure he’s waiting to hear from you and has been since yesterday afternoon,” luke nudged her good arm and nodded towards her phone. “it’s okay to let people in, pop. it means they care about you. i know it’s scary to trust again, but even i admit to how much that boy loves you and would do anything to gain your trust back.”

samy sucked in a deep breath as she found will’s contact again. she looked at luke who nodded before finally hitting call.

will’s phone vibrated by his leg. he was geared up for practice when he saw samy’s contact light up on his lock screen. the blonde’s heart quickly beat as he scrambled to answer it, stepping further away from the boys still getting ready.

“hello?” he breathed.

“will?” a wave of relief washed through him when he heard samy’s familiar voice on the other end.

[swanhild]

I agree with the person who said that Curufin had the exact same potential to do great things as his father and his son, but at first he was too wrapped up in Feanor/too focused on pleasing him to really branch out on his own and then the oath and subsequent war against Morgoth happened and he shifted all his mental focus and energy towards developing weaponry and armor and so on. Something he was good at, but didn't find particularly mentally stimulating or enjoyable. In my post-canon headcanons/fic that I dream of writing one day Curufin will be the one to eventually invent photography, however. A huge hit with the wider populace of Valinor who don't necessarily have Finwean-style money to have portraits of their babies or weddings done by a professional painter.

He also learns to detangle his existence from Feanor's post-canon (I headcanon he gets released from the Halls before Feanor does) and goes through some personal growth. He also manages to repair his relationships with Celebrimbor and Finrod during that time and grows closer to Nerdanel. He and Celebrimbor actually start collaborating on a whole bunch of projects together and the two of them are directly or partly responsibly for a lot of technologial innovations and revolutions in post-canon Valinor (I mean sure, Curufin is #problematic, but the things he comes up with are just too good/tempting to ignore. And Celebrimbor is okay in most people's books anyway, so...)

I personally am a Curufinrod shipper, but whether platonically or romantically, I think Curufin has a lot of strong feelings about Finrod, most of them quite overwhelming and difficult to deal with for him. And his tried and true method for dealing with such feelings is repressing them. Until he can't anymore and things get crazy. But anyway, one of the more straightforward and normal feelings he has towards Finrod is gratefulness for taking care of Tyelpe after he was re-embodied. I headcanon that Celebrimbor was re-embodied before Curufin and was and still rather unwell by that point, which caused Curufin a lot of worry. Celebrimbor canonically loves Finrod and I think the feeling is mutual (Finrod thinks of him as a son, in a way), so I feel it makes sense for Finrod to be there for Celebrimbor during that time period.

He's a disaster bisexual with internalised homophobia and everything else @gardensofthemoon mentioned on that subject.

He used to have a crush on Aredhel when he was a kid/teen and is still very fond of her.

He secretly craves affection and attention though under normal cicumstances he'd rather bite off his tongue than admit that out loud (or even to himself most of the time). Luckily for him, I headcanon Celegorm as being quite affectionate with the people he loves (in a very casual, easy-going, dude bro-y sort of way: he will slap people on the back, casually drop his arm around them and/or pull them into hugs, ruffle his younger brothers' hair etc.) Curufin will act annoyed with Celegorm when he does these kinds of things, but really, he doesn't mind at all. (In time, Curufin does get better at expressing his wants and needs though, and other people, like Finrod, also begin to understand this about him, so it all works out in the end.)

He's actually rather conflict-averse and tends to avoid direct confrontation in favor of scheming and manipulating his way through life. Direct confrontation rarely goes well for him when he does try, so he leaves that kind of thing Celegorm for the most part. (Another avantage of having Celegorm around. And Celegorm doesn't mind fighting some of Curufin's battles for him).

The siblings he has the most difficult relationships with are Maedhros and Caranthir: When he was younger Curufin felt somewhat resentful and jealous towards Maedhros for being the firstborn son (it should have been him, obviously). He claims Maedhros is doing a terrible job of being their father's heir by frequently going against Feanor or what Feanor would have wanted. A part of him admires Maedhros for being able to stand up to their father and following his own mind, but another part of him is just about self-aware enough to realize that this makes Maedhros more similar to Feanor than Curufin could ever be and resents Maedhros even more for it. He also can't help but feel that Maedhros can read him like an open book (which is true) and in his most paranoid moments Curufin is convinced that Maedhros thinks him pathetic and all kinds of other things he secretly fears about himself. Caranthir can also see right through Curufin, but unlike Maedhros, he doesn't mince his words and very bluntly says what he thinks of Curufin or his actions right to his face. Caranthir is also very close in age to Curufin and doesn't really have Maedhros' older brother instinct of "must protect my little sibling and be nice to him even when he's being a terrible brat". This means that Caranthir can and will say things that cut Curufin right to the core (and which will keep him awake at night because he can't stop thinking about them.)

He is what would nowadays be called neurodivergent (like most of his family) and has a bunch of very specific hyperfixations and interests that only very few people can relate to.

He also suffers from anxiety (something he has in common with Maedhros) and used to bite his nails when he was younger. He still does it sometimes, but he thinks it's a shameful habit and tries very hard not to.

He loves Celebrimbor above all else and genuinely tried his best as a parent (although he didn't always succeed and failed quite badly a couple of times). But particularly when Celebrimbor was younger? I really think he was a pretty involved and good father to him. Also is super proud of Celebrimbor (and Celebrimbor outdoing him bothers him much less than he himself being unable to live up to Feanor).

He usually calls people he loves by their mother names (incl. Celegorm, Celebrimbor and Finrod), but he himself doesn't like being called Atarinke. Most people he's close with just call him Curvo.

He's quite a picky eater and somewhat embarrassed by that as well (it's immature and childish in his mind), but he just can't bring himself to eat certain things.

I also agree with the people who mentioned him enjoying mathematics (he and Celebrimbor like poring over difficult math problems together in my mind), that dark blues and greens look much better on him than Feanorian red, that he's deeply insecure, that he's a night owl (he'll often stay up all night and sleep during the most random hours of the day) and that he speaks in a soft tone of voice.

Hey fellow people who presumably enjoy curufin. Can you reblog with some curufin hcs? I think we truly need more Curufin Attention (either positive or negative but if you hate him why are you even here) in this fandom and I will be the change the world desperately needs. Cheers

[jameui]

A LOVE TEXT AWAY - Jung Sungchan & Anton Lee

chapt. 002 _ ice cream date

PAIRING: RIIZE's Jung Sungchan & Anton Lee x M!Reader SUMMARY: After a very weird confession over text, things started to go downhill for you, but not entirely, only until two boys came into your life and changed your life forever. NOTE(s): may contain explicit content that's not suitable for younger viewers. please read at your own risk.

ADDITIONAL NOTE: this chapter contains narration

[ chapter index ] [ previous chapter ] [ next chapter ]

"what do you plan on doing with your life, y/n?" an angered woman, that's your mother, waisted her hands with her brows knitted together at the center of her forehead. she came bursting into your room the moment your older sister had tattled on your mother about your newly dyed hair.

you lifted your eyes up to see her standing at the front door with the same expression all across her face. neither of the two liked the idea of you having your hair colored. your sister knew about your mother's values and stood with it.

you fiddled with your fingers, unable to say a word under their piercing gaze. "i just... i thought it looked good on me," you answered meekly.

"haven't i taught you enough, y/n? you better take that hair color off if you still wanna live in this house," you hear your mother sigh. "look, honey. i get you want to express yourself and i truly accept that. i'm not bothered by the fact about you being gay and fully embracing it, but please be at least decent," your mother said in a rather, more gentle voice.

she caressed the side of your face, then placed a kiss on top of your forehead. "do you understand, y/n?" she asks with the same tone.

you nod your head in reply, your mother smiled. whilst you stood still in your place, your sister and your mother left your room. what a great start for a day so early in morning. she really had to just wake you up for that?

your breathe hitched as you went to your bed and sat down. why can't i stand up for myself? you thought to yourself. you plopped down onto your bead with your back first, looking at the ceiling as though the answers are somewhere hidden beneath the seams.

for a couple of minutes you were completely silent, until you turned your head towards the other side of the bed which still played the piano playlist on youtube.

you took your phone and turned over your stomach to see if there's anyone you can talk to for the moment while you still felt down. you gave a bittersweet smile when you see that mingi is online.

soon enough, you hear an engine revving, slowly dying down as to not disturb anyone who's already fast asleep. you went to your window and opened it. mingi waves a hand at you and you smiled at him. you gave him a wait signal as the tall male nods his head.

you went to close the lights of your bedroom and locked the door. you went back to your window where there is also a hidden ladder made of ropes and sturdy sticks. you slowly, but surely climbed down the ladder and jumped down after you're just a few inches from the ground.

"thanks for coming, min. i'll never learn how to survive that house," you told the male who gave you a smile, the other male smiling while grabbing a spare helmet from his vehicle's compartment.

he puts the helmet on for you, lightly tapping on it. "i'll always be here everytime you need me, y/n," he said.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[ar-cadez]

Negaverse Megavolt concept!

Design notes and personality rant stuff under the cut. Warning. It's long and unreadable.

The purse thing is a generator (Ill probably design it as a prop at some point considering It does NOT look like one but portable generators are hard for me to draw for some reason)

I swapped which eye has the white in it (even though I usually draw it on the wrong side anyway bc idk my lefts from rights..)

I wanted to make the darks very prominent bc the yellows are very prominent in the original

I went with blues bc it's the only other colour usually associated with lightning and electricity.

The teal parts of his outfit are lights! They glow when he's fully charged and fade out when he's out of power.

You can't see it in this pose but his hands have outlets on the back that work the same as megavolt's chest outlet. He can power weapons with them and charge himself without the pain of straight up shocking himself

I wanted to make his hair look like it's thinning out bc of age and repeated electrical damage but I wasn't sure how to do that so it's not really present. Did give him some white hair though.

His glasses are prescription! Can't see nothin without em..

Okay now some personality stuff!

Megavolt is the hardest villain to swap bc his personality is "insane guy with memory issues but is smart" and it's kinda hard to flip that around without just making him boring? Removing his intelligence when it comes to electricity would also negate his whole gimmick which makes things worse. but I do have a few ideas. It's ironic I struggle with him so much considering he's literally my favourite character...

He was popular in high school. He was friends with negaduck and they were both pretty well liked jock types before negaduck started doing major crimes (though I imagine he was always a delinquent of sorts. Just didn't start destroying the city till he graduated) clash reunion is a whole beast on it's own bc megavolt has the most in depth backstory which means a lot of reworking for a personality swap au.

His interests, like dw's megavolt, lie in magnesium, electronics, and engineering. The difference is, despite being Intruiged by these subjects, he didn't go out of his way to learn about the. He was more focused on his peers approval back then. Not to mention the fact that negaduck was an extremely toxic friend and would absolutely make fun of him constantly for it. (He doesn't even actually care, he's just an asshole.)

Eventually after gaining his abilities he began to study electricity and start inventing things. Only.. He's pretty bad at it. Things tend to backfire on him. Quackerjack has a lot more experience than him when it comes to engineering and he tries to help him out but the guy's kinda cursed. I haven't really decided if it's more dt17 gyro where everything he makes ends up turning against him or guy am I from the Netflix green eggs and ham show where everything he makes just kinda explodes. Maybe a bit of both. Either way it's very over the top and is more trouble than it's worth, but that doesn't stop him! (Oh God someone stop him)

I didn't wanna just take away his mental issues completely because the opposite of that is literally nothing. It adds.. Nothing. It just gives him less to work with. And it's already hard enough to do this guy. (Plus it kinda implies mentally ill people can't be heroes and that's.. Mm....) So instead I decided to change how he reacts to it.

He still has memory issues along with other physical and mental symptoms of electrical injury, he just really likes to pretend he doesn't. He completely ignores his deteriorating mental, physical, and emotional health <33

I wanna flesh him out more but I'd only be able to do that if I write with him and I'm fantastic at procrastinating my writing projects <33

[daycourtofficial]

Hazelnut Latte pweaseies 🥺 need me some cute baby princess hestia 🥺 (mayhaps a smidgen of pumpkin spice will weave its way through in the most girl dad of girl dad flavours)

Furthering the horse girl Eris agenda 🫡 it’s canon to me that Hestia enjoys horseback riding the most and goes out with Eris riding frequently

Order a coffee for Gingerfucker week here

Also shoutout to @lady-of-tearshed for her horse knowledge 🫡

“I can’t do it - she hates me.” Her red hair glistened in the sun as she turned away from Eris, his daughter unhappy with being forced to do anything.

Hestia was a sweet girl, a mischievous glint in her eye that was damn near permanent. As sweet as she was, she was also both hardheaded and stubborn, traits she was now using to get out of horseback riding lessons.

“The horse does not hate you, Hestia. You haven’t even touched her.”

“I see it in her eyes. I can feel her hatred. She wants to eat me.”

His youngest sized up the mare, a fell pony with a coat so black it would blend in with the hair of Hestia’s twin.

Hestia was about to turn nine, a fact Eris detested every day they inched closer to her birthday. He missed having tiny toddlers running around, but he found endless purpose being able to watch them grow up and away from him, into their own lives. He enjoyed watching them become less of an extension of himself and more of their own person.

It was a part of parenting he didn’t expect to enjoy nearly as much as he did. As they grew older, he prioritized nurturing their own interests with a healthy mix of other knowledge he deemed necessary. For instance, Aster was much more inclined to tolerate math lessons if allowed to spend time pouring over history lessons.

The only person around Hestia who could say no to her was her own mother.

Hestia was the last of his children to learn how to mount a horse, something she had refused to do for the past two years. Eris had finally put his foot down, insistent she learn before she turned nine. Her brothers had already been riding for several years, but Hestia had been too afraid to try. It was a topic of endless argument between Eris and the two females he lived with - one determined not to partake in lessons, the other determined to for Eris’s hand.

He had planned it for no room for discussion, the end of breakfast seeing him practically dragging Hestia out to the back stables to grab the pony.

The pair had to bypass Eris’s own favored steed, Cameron, to find the pony, a fact not forgotten by him as Cameron was dramatically whinnying from the other side of the field. He had brought out Emma, a sweet pony who loved when his sons rode her around the field. After grooming her, Eris had checked her hooves, content at not finding any rocks stuck.

Hestia’s violet eyes looked up at him, the twinkle of fear in them tugging on his heart strings.

“Hestia, we’re not leaving until you get on the horse. You won’t be hurt, I promise.”

“Promise?”

Eris sighed. “I promise if this pony tries to hurt you, she’ll become dinner.”

“Daddy! You can’t kill the pony.”

“I certainly can if the pony hurts you.”

“Can I kill things that hurt you?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Hestia was a physical illusion, a trick of the eye. She looked just like Eris until she wanted something, her pouty lips turning her into her mother.

“How about we wait until you’re older before we begin discussing murder, hm? For now, get on the pony.” She looked at him, Eris quickly rushing to add, “please.”

Somehow his words worked, Hestia moving beside the horse until Eris held his hands out, helping her get her footing to reach the stirrup.

“One hand on the reins.” Hestia followed his instruction, her hand clutched tight to the reins, waiting for more. “Other on the pommel.” She listened, her hands holding the leather tight.

“Now, relax your legs. You want them firm, but you don’t want to confuse her.” She gave him a confused face, causing him to take a breath and simplify.

“Look forward. Keep your heels down.”

“You’re telling me too much.” Her voice came out like a whine, like she was much younger.

“Okay.” Eris held his hands up, taking his place in front of the pony. “Just look at me, Tia. Daddy’s got you.”

Hestia nodded, still unsure, but Eris grabbed the reins and the horse moved forward slowly, her steps mirroring Eris’s as he moved backward. Hestia kept her eyes on Eris, not looking away from him for one second.

Eris guided Emma in a full circle following the fence, her walk slow but comforting to Hestia.

“You’re doing it.”

Hestia kept repeating what she was told to do: eyes forward, heels down, relaxed legs. Over and over the words tossed and turned in her mind.

“I’m doing it, daddy.”

The two beamed at each other, pride pouring from every inch of their matching faces.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

August

Hii guyss, here's a new one-shot about Taylor Swift's folklore love triangle, starring August x Max. If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist :)

Those late summer afternoons always came back in flashes — the way the horizon swallowed the sun in a blaze of orange and gold, the laughter between soft-spoken secrets, and the rusted gate they leaned on to watch the waves. For her, those days were more than fleeting; they were suspended in a timeless space where wanting felt like enough.

She remembered the first time she saw him, shirt loose and hair windswept, with a grin that promised trouble and his freckle on his lip. Max. His name tumbled into her chest before she even spoke it. That first night, with stars sharp above and sand cool beneath their feet, he’d looked at her and said, “You up for a midnight swim?” The sea cradled them in weightless silence, and she was lost.

Mornings were the softest parts of their summer. Sunlight would filter through the thin curtains, splashing warm streaks across his bare back. She’d reach out, fingers tracing idle patterns across his sun-touched skin, wishing she could carve her name there, stake her claim. Sometimes, he’d stir, pulling her close, their breaths mingling as if there was no air but each other’s.

“Are you sure about this?” she’d whispered once, unsure where the question began — was it about the summer, their reckless escapades, or her own heart now bound by the boy with the deep laugh and easy charm?

“Never have I ever been more sure,” he replied, but his eyes darted to the window, where the season tiptoed away. She’d ignore the way that look gnawed at her and instead leaned in, hoping to make the most of each dwindling second.

They spent sun-drenched days in his car, the top down, music loud enough to drown any creeping doubt. Every now and then, he’d pull over at a roadside stall, buy them lemon slushies that dripped down their fingers and laughed when she swiped a playful stripe across his cheek. He’d catch her gaze then, something tender lingering in those moments as if he, too, felt the edges of time slipping through their fingers.

But when late August shadows began to stretch longer, so did the silences. “When do you leave?” she’d ask casually, hiding the tremble in her voice.

“Soon,” he’d say, a word so simple, so cruel. He never mentioned what “soon” really meant — days? Hours? She learned to stop asking, but the question rattled inside her as she stayed up those final nights, her hand intertwined with his while the hum of crickets and distant waves kept them company.

The last day came like the closing of a book whose ending she dreaded. He stood by his car, bags packed, looking more like a dream than a boy she had memorized in hundreds of stolen glances. She’d pulled up to meet him, a silent plea lodged in her throat, and forced a smile when he met her gaze.

“Take care, okay?” His voice was soft, his smile bittersweet.

“You too,” she whispered, already feeling the absence press on her like the tide rolling out. The car engine roared to life, and with one last look — that fleeting, almost apologetic glance — he was gone.

The town felt hollow after that. Every part of it had whispers of him: the booth at the diner where they shared fries, the tree with their carved initials already fading, the quiet beach path where they used to steal moments that tasted like forever. She stayed up most nights replaying the summer in pieces, holding onto the way they’d been tangled in bedsheets, how his eyes held the sea’s color when he laughed.

For weeks, she found herself hoping her phone would light up with his name, the part of her still living for the hope of it all. But summer faded, and August slipped away like a bottle of wine, each memory burning on its way down.

She wished she could go back to that simple, carefree version of herself, one who still believed that late-night drives and whispered promises could hold more than just the fleeting heat of summer. Because she hadn’t realized that while she was changing, hoping, falling — Max was already slipping through her fingers, never truly hers to lose.

But as fall winds picked up, she knew one thing: for her, wanting had been enough. It was all she could hold onto, now that summer was nothing more than a bittersweet echo in the back of her mind.

[anxiousthoughts365]

Comfortable

'Moony?' Remus looked up from his book to find James standing at the end of the sofa, and immediately his friend's demeanour made him sit up a little straighter.

James was trying his hardest to look at Remus, but despite his efforts, his hazel eyes kept darting around the room, seemingly of their own accord. The boy was also rocking slightly from side to side, shifting his weight from one foot to another, as though he just couldn't stay still, and he was twisting his long fingers together so rapidly that Remus worried for a moment that he might hurt himself.

Remus had only seen these signs a few times, but he instantly recognised what they meant. James Potter was nervous.

'What's up, Prongs?' Remus asked carefully, shifting so that his long legs slid off the sofa, making room for the other boy to sit. He ignored the twinge in his hip as James sank gratefully onto the cushion next to him. But even sitting, James couldn't be still. His leg bounced up and down rapidly, and he ran one hand distractedly through his already messy hair, somehow managing to make it look even more tousled than usual.

'I ...' James started, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he huffed in frustration and glared into the fire.

Remus swallowed the impulse to push. He'd learned over the last 6 years that both James and Sirius sometimes just needed a bit of space and quiet to talk. If they sought him out like this, it was usually because something was stuck and wouldn't come out in their usual haphazard way of just yelling their feelings at each other. He'd quickly learned to be patient in these moments, proud that he was able to provide this space for his friends (and later, as his relationship with Sirius developed, his boyfriend).

But as the minutes ticked by with James sitting silently, Remus was forced to exercise every ounce of restraint as he waited and waited. And waited. He was just forming a question that might get James started when the boy turned back to him and blurted, 'Am I boring?'

Remus might have laughed if his friend hadn't looked so distressed. Instead, he schooled his face into a neutral expression as he said, 'James, you are one of the least boring people I've ever met in my life. What on Earth made you think that?'

'Well, it's just ...' James took a deep breath, and Remus was alarmed to see his eyes growing shiny as he rambled, 'It's just that every time I hang out with Reg, he ... He falls asleep, Moony. I thought at first that it might just be because he's taken an extra class this year, and that maybe he was overdoing it. But it happens during the holidays as well. I mean, we do other stuff as well, but I've started to just accept that by the end of whatever we're doing he'll have fallen asleep on me. And I've tried to make things more exciting by taking him new places and showing him new things but -'

'Jamie,' Remus interjected hurriedly as his friend's words became slurred and breathless. He reached out to grip the boy's heaving shoulder, grounding him as he tried to catch his breath. 'You're not boring him, mate. It just means that he's comfortable with you.'

'What do you mean?' James gulped, wiping at his eyes and nearly knocking his glasses off in the process.

'I mean that you're making him feel safe,' Remus explained, a small smile creeping across his face as memories began to return to him. Memories of a young boy with long, soft black hair and a pale, haughty face. Memories of nights with limbs hopelessly tangled and steady, even breathing. Memories of whispered conversations and confessions. 'Don't you remember how Sirius would get at night when we all first started at Hogwarts?'

'Yeah,' James said slowly, his forehead creasing as he apparently tried to make the connection between his concerns and Remus' question. 'He was a nightmare. Wouldn't settle until like 2am. But then we figured out that if he slept in with someone else -' James cut himself off suddenly, his eyes widening, understanding flooding his face. 'Oh.'

'Another relic we can thank Walburga for,' Remus said wryly, any amusement gone from his tone. James' expression turned sharp, and he looked like he might ask Remus to go on, but the werewolf shook his head. 'Sirius told me his side of things, but that's not my story to tell. And it's not Regulus' story, either. You'll have to ask him.'

'Fair enough,' James rumbled, and Remus' chest ached at the hurt that flashed over his friend's face. He knew that it wasn't directed at him, knew that James was simply already feeling the pain of what he suspected Regulus might have had to endure that meant he didn't feel safe to sleep in his own bed and could only do so comfortably with James nearby. Then James was standing, already walking towards the portrait hole as he said, 'Cheers for that, Moony. See you later, yeah?'

'See you.' The portrait swung shut, and Remus sighed. He worried momentarily for his friend, whose heart was bigger than most realised. But it was a conversation he knew that James and Regulus would have to have at some point, anyway. Better that James didn't spend months in his own head, agonising over this and blaming himself for something he had no control over.

The memories that the discussion had stirred up were lingering, though, and all at once Remus had the need to seek out his own boyfriend, to make sure that he was alright. So he heaved himself up from the sofa and climbed the stairs to their dormitory, where he found Sirius lying on Remus' bed, his wand pointed at the canopy above him.

'Hey Moons,' Sirius said, without looking away from the trail of sparks he was weaving through the air above him. In moments, Remus had crossed the room and crawled up onto the bed, sinking down to press his face and chest against Sirius' torso, his hips nestled between Sirius' thighs. Slender fingers wound into the curls at the nape of his neck as Sirius asked, 'Everything alright?'

'Just needed to remind you how much I love you,' Remus murmured, turning his head to rest his chin on Sirius' sternum so he could meet the other boy's gaze. Silver eyes flashed, then softened, and Sirius' gentle smile was so beautiful that it made Remus' chest ache all over again.

'I love you,' Sirius whispered, and Remus scrambled up onto his hands and knees to press a deep kiss to Sirius' lips.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

for kinktober: Eddie Munson giving oral to a transmasc reader?

ofc, thanks for the kinktober request <3 (I really hope he isn't out of character here)

Kinktober 2024 Day 18: Eddie Munson giving oral to a transmasc reader

Warnings: smut/nsfw content, cunnilingus/oral sex (reader receiving), slight hair pulling, Eddie's a massive tease, swearing

You were over at Eddie's trailer for what was supposed to be guitar lessons. You'd always wanted to learn, and luckily for you the town's resident bad boy not only owned a guitar himself but was also kind enough to offer to teach you how to play. That's what you'd initially planned on doing, anyway, until things got sidetracked in one of the lewdest ways possible.

He definitely didn't expect you to show up wearing cut-off shorts with a spaghetti-strap tank top of all things, but in your defense Hawkins had been having an unusually hot fall and you didn't want to be sitting in a trailer that had no air conditioner for hours on end while you were sweating your ass off.

"Damn, sweetheart. I was going to make a joke about you having to repay me for guitar lessons, but if you're going to show up dressed like this every time I guess there's no need," he lightly teased, letting his eyes linger on your bare arms and legs a bit longer than he probably should.

"Haha, very funny, Munson." You thought nothing of his comments as you rolled your eyes, chalking them up to being nothing more than the usual flirty quips he'd throw out whenever he saw you. It wasn't as if he was attracted to you or anything like that, he just acted like that around everyone his age. That's what you'd convinced yourself, anyway.

"Seriously, you should wear shorts more often. The legs on you are enough to make a man drool," he continued with a cheeky smirk, watching as you flopped down on his bed with a certain sense of casual ease. You'd been over to his place so often you didn't even think twice about it. "And don't even get me started on those arms and collarbones."

"Yeah, yeah. I get it already, you pervert," you lightheartedly complained while tossing a pillow in his direction, which he caught before it could hit him in the face. You hated to admit it, but the playful compliments he was throwing your way was starting to actually have an affect on you. You could feel your face growing hot, and it wasn't due to the weather.

Eddie wasn't stupid, either, despite what other people might think. He knew just how much his words were getting to you, which is why he wasn't at all fazed by your complaints or the way you threw one of his pillows at him.

"Ouch, sweetheart. That really hurts to know a pervert is all you view me as," he feigned offence while making his way over to the bed, setting the pillow back down as he sat next to you. "And here I thought you might actually like me."

"Oh, shut up," you huffed with another eye roll, starting to run out of retorts to his nonstop teasing. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he actually liked you, but there was no way that was possible.

"Make me." He leaned in some, the smirk that was on his face having widened into a grin. He wasn't really expecting you to do anything in response except for maybe giving him a shove before telling him to knock it off, but you were feeling a little bit bold today, bolder than usual.

Maybe it was the outfit you were wearing, maybe it was the heat, but whatever the case may be you were willing to take his dare and run with it. Which is how you found yourself laying back on his bed without your shorts or underwear on, his face trapped between your thighs as he ate you out like a starved man.

"Oh- Oh, my God-" You moaned out loudly as you arched your back up off the bed, your hand finding its way to his hair and giving it a sharp tug. "God, yes- Just like that-"

You could practically feel the way his lips were turned upwards into a smug position at your desperate cries of pleasure, and you had no doubt that he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

His tongue moved expertly throughout your dripping wet folds, zigzagging from one area to another as he slurped happily. The cold metal from his rings dug into the soft flesh of your thighs as he gripped them tightly, keeping them spread apart.

"God, baby, you taste even better than you look," he mused out loud as he lifted his head up some to glance at you, seeming amused by the way you shoved his head back down with your hand.

"I thought I told you to shut up already." Your words held no real malice to them, but he could tell you were going to be pissed if he kept denying you, so he didn't push it.

"Jesus, baby boy, calm down. I was just trying to give you a compliment, sweetheart, that's all." His mouth met your pussy again, pulling a long and loud whine from you when his nose intentionally bumped into your clit.

"You're doing this on purpose, you bastard," you accused while tightening your grip on his hair, something that made him let out a groan that seemed to reach your very core when the vibrations of the sound hit your pussy.

"Sorry," came out his muffled response as he finally stopped teasing you and got back to work at eating you out like he was supposed to be doing in the first place. You left out a quiet sigh of relief that was shortly followed by a series of needy moans, your fingers lacing through his hair as a grounding mechanism.

Learning how to play the guitar may have been a fun idea, but getting head from the guitarist himself ending up being a much better one, especially when he made you see stars from how good he was at doing it.

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[jasontoddspussy]

headcanons for jason, tim and dick?

im really curious why u give jason long hair

Holo! sorry for the wait i forgot to answer hehe

Jason: 23 y/o

Tallest of the bats at 6'4 fully grown.

He's a transman.

Tan skin with warm undertones, dark brown/black hair, also warm undertone, with white streaks in the fringe. Kept it short as a teenager, but started to grow it out as a ''fuck you'' to enemies. He kept it short so people couldn't grab it.

Has a good relationship with Talia, who views him as her son. He was Damian's bodyguard for a while.

Has a hard time falling asleep, wakes up very easily. Can't fall asleep on his back, and can't fall asleep in total silence. He's always armed.

Green eyes, close in shade to Talia.

He and Damian share a lot of mannerisms when they're posturing/acting indifferent, which they inherited from Talia.

Tim: 21 y/o

5'8, average height and built. Pale skin from never going outside. Wears blue-filter glasses whenever he uses his screens. Eyes are pale icy-blue, giving him a creepy component.

Very picky eater from a mix of being autistic, and because he didn't have the opportunity trying out a lot of new food growing up.

Genderfluid. Wears earrings to dictate if his pronouns are he or she. Uses the name Tim either way.

Doesn't care for his dead parents. Did he want to have an okay relationship with them? Yes, but feels guilty that he's relieved they're gone so he doesn't have to worry about slipping up about any secrets. He was neglected, yes, but didn't really notice or care, too busy doing his own thing.

Is confident in his abilities, and copies a lot of mannerisms from people around him to suit his needs (he learned this from Dick).

He's scandinavian/american, and taught himself Finnish, Icelandic, Danish, Norwegian and Swedish when he felt uprooted and lost without a base identity, as a way to try and feel closer to his ''roots''.

Dick: 30 y/o

5'9, athletic build. Romani, dark skin and moles beneath his right eye and on his chin. Blue eyes.

Panromantic Demisexual, sex-neutral/favourable depending.

I use my grandma's skin-colour palette that I copied from pictures when I color him::)

The one most similar to Bruce. Even if he doesn't want to admit it.

Always acting when around others, naturally charming and manipulative, so people react favourably to what he wants - rarely puts his guard down and is himself. When he does, he's pretty quiet and exists in his own bubble. This is here where you'd see him grab fistfuls of dry cereal from a carton and munch on it in a mitch-matched outfit from different people.

Very observant, even if he doesn't seem like it.

[dogwdabird]

Silly jjk headcanons that do not involve the reader

I felt like doing this because I like to interpret the mundane things about my favs. not just what it would be like to date them (even though I love those, too) sometimes I just want a little giggle and/or I’m really not in that romantic mood.

-gojo occasionally listens to sexyy red

-he’s trying to broaden his musical horizons 🤷🏻

-inumaki has considered learning a dead/dying language

-not that it would help much with preventing the activation of his cursed speech, but to troll his opponents because they don’t know what language he’s speaking

-panda loves maki’s hair color. that color green.

-he wants to dye his fur one day, but is concerned that human hair dyes will harm his impeccably glossy, beautiful, luscious coat

-itadori loves boba tea of all sorts

-he particularly likes the fruit teas, though

-megumi once wanted to be a botanist

-sukuna (MY LORD AND SAVIOR BOW DOWN 🙇🏻) is an incredible chef, he just ain’t cookin allat. he has plotting and scheming to do

-on the occasion that he DOES cook, though, it’s immaculate. life-changing. absolutely splendid and magnificent in every way possible even though it could very plausibly be human flesh yes I am glazing so what

-nobara wanted to be a stylist/clothing designer

-nanami has an INCREDIBLE spice tolerance

-geto always wanted to get his hair braided. he could not do it on his own (me neither king)

-the girls taught him how

-Mahito may hold off on killing a human that can see him if they recommend him a REAL good book.

-he’s read Kafka and Woolf. he’s a literature enthusiast.

- if he approves of your book, you may save yourself a few days to flee the country with the clothes on your back, a charging pack, and a water bottle! lucky you!

apologies is this isn’t great, it’s my first time doing headcanons