#and then I'll be able to move on to the real fabric

[stellamusing]

It's simultaneously aggravating beyond belief and relieving beyond words that the dress pattern I've been trying to fit for a week straight is finally fitting like it should

All it took was realizing that the very first adjustment I made (taking an inch of extra room out of the shoulder) was 1) done incorrectly and also 2) not the correct fix for the problem I was seeing, and it was having knock-on effects in the form of every other problem I'd encountered since

[tidetfs]

"Ugh, bro, pleeeeease?"

Max looked at me with those dopey blue eyes of his, staring dully through me and appearing to lack any kind of intelligence or perception.

"I told you, I have a very important club interview," I replied. "This could determine if I can network into a good job after college!" stressing the importance of a job, something my stoner roommate never seemed to understand.

"Just one hit, man, come on! You gotta stop worrying about that stuff and just chill out!" he replied, stretching his muscular arms over his head of greasy (probably unwashed) brown hair and closing his eyes, as if musing about something important. "You gotta try this weed bro, I just, I-" he stuttered as he took another hit. "I don't fuckin' know man, I think you just need this."

Exasperated, I dropped my heavy bag on the floor and strode over to his side of the room, switching to mouth breathing to avoid inhaling too much foot funk from his "clean pile" of clothes, as Max called it. Even three air fresheners weren't enough to keep the pungent smells of weed and sweat at bay.

"What the hell, dude, when's the last time you even washed those?!"

"Oh, I dunno, a couple weeks ago, maybe?" Max replied, shrugging.

I could see some of the dried crust still clinging to the fabric. I couldn't help but be amazed at the sheer size of his stash. The pile was easily four feet across, and it was clear Max was still working to roll his way through the rest. I couldn't even imagine where he got it all.

"Look, just let me finish my meeting, then I'll smoke with you, okay?"

Max's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, for real?" he replied, excited. "You promise? Pinky swear?"

Max stuck his hand out, his pinky raised and his arm shaking slightly. He looked like an overgrown child. I was so tired, I didn't even hesitate. I wrapped my pinky around his, then turned to walk out of the room. As soon as I let go, I felt a sudden, powerful wave of euphoria wash over me. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I couldn't even think straight, the sensation was so intense.

I collapsed against the doorway, unable to move. I could barely even think. The only thought that went through my mind was that I'd never felt this good in my life. Every inch of my skin tingled and buzzed, like a pleasant static that sent ripples of bliss through my muscles. I couldn't even control the way my body twitched and shivered.

"Duuuude," I heard Max say. "You feel that, man? I told you it's the good stuff."

I didn't know what was happening to me. My heart was racing and I couldn't breathe, and the feeling was getting more and more intense. "What..." I struggled to even sound out words. "I didn't even...take a hit..."

"Well, no, not technically," Max said, laughing. "But, uh, that's not what it was, actually. See, I sorta dosed your pinky."

I looked up at him, confused. My vision was blurry and I could barely see him, but he was grinning widely, and I could see the outline of his meaty, calloused hands rubbing the front of his jeans.

"See, it's like this, man. That wasn't weed. That was just, you know, a little something to get you to loosen up a bit. And, uh, well, there's this other thing, too. That shit I sprayed on your hand. It's not, uh, not exactly what you think."

The euphoria was fading, but it was still intense, and it was making my brain spin. "You sprayed my...hand?" I mumbled, barely able to understand what he was saying.

"Yeah, bro, I sorta had to, man. You kept getting me down with all your stress." He flexed his big biceps and gave one a kiss. "Now you're gonna be just like me!" He grinned wide, his perfect teeth glinting in the low light.

I couldn't respond. The sensations were still washing over me, but the euphoria was fading. As my brain began to work again, I suddenly realized that there was something wrong with me. There was a new, alien weight between my legs.

"Wha-what did you do?" I stammered, still dazed and confused. "What...what did you..."

I looked down, and froze. There was a huge, heavy bulge straining against the crotch of my jeans, stretching the thick material taut. It was huge. Like, absolutely massive. It was easily the size of my fist, maybe even bigger. It was so big and round, I could even see the outline of the individual balls.

"Duuuuude, bro, look at that fucking thing!" Max exclaimed, pointing and laughing. "It's totally fucking huge! Holy shit, man, it's the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life!"

I tried to speak, but I was still so confused, I couldn't get my mouth to form words.

"I didn't know they could get that big, man! Wow, bro, you're really packing a fucking cannon, you know that? Holy shit, it's so fucking hot." Max was practically drooling as he ogled the enormous bulge in my pants.

I could feel the heat radiating off of it, and I could tell it was pulsing and throbbing with each beat of my heart. The sensation was incredibly intense.

"It's...it's not possible..." I stammered, my voice cracking. "What...what did you spray?"

"Bro, I'm telling you, it's totally normal!" Max said, trying his best to sound reassuring. "My friend from home, he said, well, it's just that..." Max stammered again, his usually peaceful face betraying some shyness. "I've always thought you were cute, even without that package. You just needed to loosen up a little. And, I mean, I just wanted you to be, like, comfortable with me. It was just a little bit, man, and it was totally safe. Like, I swear, it's totally normal, dude." He grinned and shot me a wink. "Soon you're going to be just like me."

Max was still staring at the massive bulge, and I could see the outline of his huge dick stretching the crotch of his jeans.

"Dude, bro, I-" my hand shot to my mouth. I had never used those words in the same sentence before! "I...I didn't mean that!"

"Oh, yeah, dude," Max replied, not even noticing. "It's totally normal, bro. You're just a little high is all."

"High?!" I shouted, exasperated. "This isn't...I'm not...this isn't how people talk!"

Max just shrugged. "Bro, you've always been a nerd, and it's cool, man, I totally get it. But this is a big step forward. You're gonna love this. I swear."

I couldn't believe this was happening. I was still trying to process everything that was happening to me, when I heard Max's voice.

"Duuuuuude, check it out, bro," he said, gesturing to the bulge in his jeans. "We're, like, totally packing!"

"I can't..."

"Oh, shit, right. Dude, you gotta feel this."

Max quickly reached down and grabbed the bulge in my pants. As soon as he made contact, I felt a powerful surge of pleasure ripple through me. My body immediately responded to his touch, and I could feel my new cock throb and twitch. I groaned, unable to hold back the sounds.

"Dude, holy shit, bro, it's like, really sensitive or something," Max said, his eyes wide. "Like, really, really fucking sensitive, bro."

"No, it's...not..." I moaned, but I could tell it was a lie. It felt like Max's hand was squeezing my balls, and the pleasure was incredible.

"Fuck, bro, it's, like, really fucking sensitive, dude. Like, fucking, crazy fucking sensitive." Max was practically drooling, and his eyes were glazed over. He was clearly enjoying this a lot.

"Please, stop..."

"Fuck, bro, you're so fucking hard," Max groaned. He started to rub my bulge, and his other hand went to the front of his own jeans. "...and, you're so pretty too. I just don't want to lose you to all those meetings, bro. I want you to be with me."

"Wait, no, what are you doing?"

"I can't hold back anymore, dude, I gotta see your big dick," Max replied, unzipping my jeans and reaching in. He slowly pulled down, and my eyes widened as he revealed the huge, throbbing bulge in my underwear. It was so big, the fabric was stretched tight, and it was already soaked in pre-cum.

"Holy shit, dude, that thing is huge!" Max exclaimed, his voice cracking. He was staring at my huge bulge with a lustful expression, and his long tongue darted out to lick his lips. "It's, like, fucking, massive."

I looked down and was shocked by what I saw. It was easily twice as big as it had been just a few minutes ago. It was still growing, and it was stretching the fabric of my boxer-briefs to the limit. Max began to move closer, scrambling to take off his busted old t-shirt, meaty pecs and perfect washboard abs busting out as he did. He leaned forward, and his massive bicep brushed against my new rock-hard dick.

"Oh, shit, bro, fuck," Max moaned as he leaned in closer. At this point I could almost feel the waves of sweat and weed rolling off his huge body, and my cock was throbbing and leaking, straining against the tight fabric of my underwear.

"You're so hot, dude," Max said, reaching out to grab my huge bulge, wrapping his meaty hand around it. His hand was warm and rough, and his grip was strong, squeezing my bulge and causing a fresh burst of pleasure. "You're, like, fucking sexy as hell, man."

"What the hell, bro, no, that's not...that's not right!" I stammered, but Max's words sent a thrill through me. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I could feel the heat radiating from my skin. "That's not, I'm not a fag!"

"You sure about that, bro?" he asked, giving it a tug and sending a bolt of pleasure through my body. I felt the euphoria return. This time, it was a hundred times more intense.

"Fuuuuck," I groaned, leaning my head back. "Bro, it feels so fucking good."

"I know, right? And it's going to feel even better when you're a stoner like me, dude." Max replied, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Fuck, bro, I can't take it, I gotta get naked," Max moaned, frantically undoing his belt and shucking his pants. "I'm so fucking hard, bro, I can't wait to fuck you."

I looked down, and for the first time, got a good look at my new equipment. It was absolutely massive. It was huge and thick, easily the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and it was still growing. It was 10 inches long, and thicker than a beer can. My balls were huge, too, hanging heavy and swollen between my legs. I'd never felt anything like it.

The sensation continued to wash over me, slowly becoming heat as I began to sweat. It felt amazing. I couldn't control myself, I was already starting to moan and groan, and the euphoria was starting to mix with my arousal. My new cock was so sensitive, and the slightest touch made it throb and pulse.

"It's starting!" Max shouted, looking at my side of the room as my clean and organized things started to transform. My desk became cluttered with bongs and pipes, and posters of the periodic table were suddenly replaced by scantily clad men. My clothes started to change, too. My formerly neat shirts were suddenly full of holes and stained with various substances. My shoes were replaced with flip flops and Crocs.

"I can't take it, man, I'm too horny, I need to kiss you, right now," Max moaned, his voice shaking with desperation. "I've been waiting for this day, dude, and I can't hold back any longer."

Before I could protest, Max leaned in and kissed me, his big, thick tongue probing my mouth. The heat was overwhelming, and his kisses were passionate and hungry. His big, rough hands began to explore my body, rubbing and stroking and caressing every inch of me. He broke away from the kiss and buried his face in my neck, licking and nibbling and kissing. He was so close, I could feel the heat from his body, and I could smell the overpowering funk of stale sweat and reeking weed. It was so powerful I almost didn't notice my feet begin to ache and the pain in my lower back.

"What's...what's happening to me, bro?" I asked, my voice breaking. "I feel...I feel like...fuck, bro, it hurts!"

"You're changing, dude," Max replied, grinning. "It's the weed. You're finally becoming one with the bud."

"Fuck, bro, I can't hold back anymore," Max moaned. He reached down and began to stroke his giant cock, pre-cum pouring from the tip. It was easily 9 inches, and his massive balls were swollen and heavy with greasy, unwashed hair.

My feet continued to ache and burn as they stretched out, becoming bigger and broader. I could feel my bones shifting and rearranging, long tufts of sweaty hair sprouting out of my feet as they morphed into giant, hairy stumps. I couldn't believe it. The changes were getting more and more intense, and it was driving me wild. I felt like I was going to explode.

"I can't take it anymore," Max groaned, his voice a husky growl. " I have to make you mine."

Without hesitation, Max grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pushing me face-first into my mattress. His hands were rough and strong, and he easily manhandled me.

"Holy fuck, dude, your ass, it's..." Max moaned, his voice filled with lust. "It's so fucking huge."

My ass was getting bigger and rounder, and it was stretching the seat of my boxer-briefs to the limits, and I felt a sharp, sudden pain as the fabric gave way and tore, leaving my huge, jiggly, fat, bubble butt exposed.

"I'm so horny, bro" Max moaned, his voice shaky and breathy, as my ass filled with greasy, oily stink, the air thick with the musk of unwashed flesh and reeking, unwashed funk.

"You're so hot, dude. It's so hot that you're getting stoned."

"What? Bro, that's not...wait!"

"Don't worry, dude, you'll get used to it. It's just the weed talking."

"No, wait, bro, you can't..." I moaned again as my legs began to push me taller, my thighs and calves widening and thickening. My feet swelled even more, filling to a size 13, and a sudden rush of heat swept over my body.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot, man," Max groaned, his voice thick with lust, rubbing my new, tick legs as dark, swirly hair began to sprout, quickly becoming matted with the sweat of hours upon hours of mindless smoking.

"Please, bro, stop," I moaned, as my body began to shake. "I can't take it, I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum."

"Dude, that's the whole point, bro," Max replied, his voice trembling. "Just relax, and let it happen. It's gonna feel so fucking good."

"It's too much," I moaned, my cock throbbing and pulsing. "It's too intense."

"I know, dude, it's just the weed, bro. It'll feel better after you get used to it. Trust me."

I could feel the hair begin to creep onto my stomach and chest, quickly spreading and covering me in a layer of greasy, foul-smelling, sweaty body hair.

"Dude, are you seriously not feeling this, too?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Bro, I can't take it, please, just stop, it's too much."

"Dude, chill, you're fine," Max replied, flipping me back over and rubbing his hand over my new abs and thickening pecs. "Just enjoy the ride."

"Wait, no, I'm not...fuuuuck!"

The sensation was so intense, it was driving me wild. I could barely even think. My pecs were growing larger and heavier, and my nipples were swelling and darkening, the areolae growing thicker and hairier.

"Fuuuuuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max groaned, grabbing a fistful of hair and giving it a sharp tug, making me moan with pleasure.

My cock was throbbing and leaking pre-cum, and I could feel the heat coming from it. My balls were swollen and heavy, and they were aching for release.

"Fuck, dude, I can't take it," Max moaned, his voice filled with desperation, shoving his face into my pit as they began to grow and deepen, quickly filling with rank, musky body odor. As he licked, my arms grew longer and wider, my biceps and triceps growing thicker and bulkier. My forearms became thicker and more defined, and my hands and fingers were getting bigger and beefier.

"Bro, it's so fucking good." Max's voice was muffled by my armpit, and I could feel his tongue lapping up the stale sweat and musk.

My arms were now completely covered in thick, greasy, matted hair, and the same was happening to my back, the swirly pattern spreading like a wildfire. My shoulders were growing larger and rounder, and I could feel the muscles shifting and rearranging.

"Please, dude, don't...I can't..."

"I can't stop, bro, you're so hot," Max moaned, his face buried in my pit. I could smell our odors mixing together as our muscular bodies writhed against each other, slick with sweat and the stinking smell of weed.

I was so turned on.

"You're so hot, bro," Max moaned, his pre-cum leaking all over the place.

"No, bro, what?" I moaned, my voice trembling. "I'm not a faggot."

"That's just the weed, dude," Max replied, his voice low and husky. "You're gonna love it."

"Please, no," I moaned, but I knew he was right. I was so turned on, and the weed was driving me wild as my neck and jaw began to fill out and widen, my Adam's apple growing into a large, meaty knob.

I moaned as my voice deepened, the vibrations reverberating through me, causing me to shiver, my speech becoming permanently relaxed, just like my roommate's.

"Fuck," Max groaned, going in for a slobbery, wet kiss, our body heat generating enough stink to make me gag.

My body was now covered in matted, swirly body hair, and it was growing thicker and greasier, the same thing happening to my chest. I could feel my pecs bulging even more as my face was being smothered in kisses and licks, my nose cracking into a previously-broken shape and the skin becoming rough and scarred.

"Oh, fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot," Max moaned, burying his face in my thick neck, his voice muffled by the hair.

"No, please, bro," I moaned, my voice cracking. "I can't take it, it's too much."

"You can do it, bro, just hold on a little longer," Max replied, his voice shaky.

My tongue grew thicker and longer, and it started to loll out of my mouth, my face cracking into model-level handsomeness. I was so turned on, and I couldn't take it anymore. My balls were throbbing and pulsing, and my cock was throbbing and pulsing.

"I'm gonna cum," I moaned, my voice deep and slow.

"Do it, bro," Max moaned, his voice trembling. "Do it, cum all over me, bro."

I felt his fingers run across my short hair, sending a shiver down my spine. My body was wracked with pleasure as I felt ropes of rancid, stinking cum shoot from my cock, splattering his chest and stomach. I couldn't control myself, I was moaning and groaning, the intense orgasm rocking my body, my new, masculine frame shaking and quivering.

With each rope, my bright green eyes became dimmer and dimmer, coloring grayer and grayer as all of my worries and stress flowed out of me, and I fell into a state of bliss, my cock still twitching and throbbing as the last change began. My hair grew longer and thicker, until it was a long, shaggy, dirty mess, and a fresh wave of fresh musk rose off me.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I moaned, my voice deep and slow, my tongue lolling out of my mouth.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max moaned, his voice cracking. "I can't believe it, dude. You're, like, totally a stoner now, bro."

"Haha, yeah man...wait bro, haven't I always been?" I looked at myself in the dingy dorm mirror, and realized I looked like a dumb, stoned idiot. My voice was deeper, and my accent was different. My hair was messy and unwashed, and my skin was tanned. My pecs were massive and my abs were rock hard. My cock was huge and throbbing. My feet were hairy and stinky. I had a huge, round, bubble butt.

I laughed a deep, airy chuckle.

"That's right" Max said, staring into my dull eyes. He seemed like the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on until I realized.

"I love you, dude." Max giggled.

"Yeah man, I love you, too" I slurred, leaning in for a sloppy kiss, my tongue probing his mouth, the taste of weed and sweat overwhelming. He returned the favor, and soon, we were a mess of sloppy, stoner kisses, our thick, stubbly chins rubbing together, the sound of slurping and licking filling the room.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I groaned, the kiss ending, both of us breathing heavy and panting, a mixture of spit dripping from our chins. "That was, like, totally amazing, dude."

"Fuck, yeah, bro, it was fucking awesome," Max groaned, his voice trembling. "I've been waiting for this for, like, ever, bro. It's fucking crazy."

"Yeah, dude, totally," I replied, staring at his gorgeous, masculine features. His big, thick arms, his perfect washboard abs, his massive pecs, and his perfect, handsome face. He was fucking hot, and he was all mine.

[dashitsxx]

if only | various male characters x fem!reader | mha

summary. Maybe leaving him wasn't the best decision to ever do.

genre. dark. explicit smut. nsfw. 18+

word count. 1.7k

characters. aizawa shota (eraserhead). chisaki kai (overhaul). takami keigo (hawks). todoroki touya (dabi).

warnings. dubcon/noncon. all in an established relationship. quirk au. vulgar language. cunnilingus (aizawa). rough fuck. penis in vagina sex. overstimulation. multiple orgasms. creampies. stomach bulge (dabi). manhandling. forcing. evident male dominance. yandere themes. possessive. obsession. mentions of killing (dabi). selfish behaviour. egoistic behaviour. indicated the use of quirk. breeding kink (dabi). praising (dabi).

disclaimer. Please note that this work is entirely fictional. It is not intended to condone, glorify, or encourage any form of violence, illegal activity, or harmful behaviour. All characters (credits to the manga artists), scenarios, and events are products of the author's imagination and/or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or real events is purely coincidental. The purpose of this work is to entertain and provoke thought, not to promote harmful behaviour.

notes. finally done with this! been itching to post this as quick as possible. i definitely didn't like how i wrote them but enjoy sluts, tried to make it spine-shivering as much as possible! reposting 'cause i found out that tumblr didn't kind of added it into the no. of my posts?? idk why

shota aizawa (eraserhead) — If only you weren't clumsy enough.

Oh love. That was the biggest mistake you have ever made to him. Do you think that you could easily slip away from his sight? Oh my. How dumb of you. You may have a strong quirk but it doesn't surpass his level... and he'll make sure to let it stay that way.

A trembling shaking rattled on the bedframe as you arched your back from the pleasuring sensation. Pants and moans vibrate against the wall of the room. No matter how much you want to try to push the head away from your cunt, your hands prevented you from doing so as it is tightly tied by his binding cloth, whereas with each forceful pull you create, it suddenly stiffens its fabric.

You moan loudly as you squirm under his touch. "Stop moving," he ordered in a vicious tone. Then, a warm wet long stripe was placed on your cunt, making you hold your breath. A strangled moan left your lips as you attempted to break the cloth that was chaining you.

"I-I can't—ah! No, n-ngh! Ah! no, s-stop. Aizawa!" you exclaimed, panting in the process.

"I said stop squirming." he painfully held your hips in place as he halted his motion. Your eyes slide down to him as you find him with a raging fire, "You wouldn't been in this position if only you had been obedient to me."

Then he slowly rises from his position as he continue to glower down at you, "You know you can't escape from me, love."

You heard a rapid swish of fabric as you found your legs bound up in a lewd position, wide open for him. "N-not like this! A-Aiza—" A painful feeling slapped your pussy which made your back arch. "Shut up."

A sinful smirk slowly formed on his lips. Who would have thought that his fantasies would come true? He was thankful that you attempted to escape, but it still does infuriate if you wanted to leave him. He didn't like that idea, nor would he let it happen. Maybe... it is time to mark you.

Then, he quietly placed his hands on the middle of his pants before unzipping it. A look of fear and shock was evident on your face as you knew what it meant

"Aizawa! No, no, no!" you attempt to back away from the raging man, but he grabbed your thighs and pulled you down to him to let you feel his hardened cock with your bare vagina—you moaned at the sensation. Pride was evident on his face as he spoke in a possessive tone.

"I'll always find you, love."

kai chisaki (overhaul)— If only you were fearless.

Darling, darling, darling. Why did you ever think that you would be able to escape from his grasp? He didn't do all those cheesy courtship with no purpose just for you to leave him. He did it all in his satisfaction to have you caged within him despite that you were a great benefit to the yakuza. Hence, you are his possession—and there is no way for you break free.

"Fuck—so... t-tight. Fucking tight." A deep growl emitted from his chest as he thrusts his fat cock into your gummy walls. You moan from your taped mouth and warm tears fall on your cheeks from the overstimulation.

A pleasured moan left his mouth as he stared down at you, a contemptuous smile was plastered on his face. You looked so pretty taking his godly size dick—it fits well with your pussy. Although he's been fucking you for who knows how many rounds, his rage hasn't been satiated yet.

The fact that you tried to leave him really fucking blood-boiled him. He has never felt this way after the heroes attempted to meddle in his business. Upon the thought entering his mind, his eyes darken immediately as he pushed the back of your thighs to your chest.

Your felt your eyes widen at a new sensation as your chest rose, heaving at the new position he put you into. It was the position you knew that would make you feel his size.

Feel him more.

You attempt to push his hands from your thighs with your taped wrists, but it keep slipping off from the body sweat formed. Then, he harshly flicked his hips onto you. Your body jerked as you felt the tip of his dick kissed your womb.

The smile remained on Kai's face as he leaned forward, "Feel that, darling? You're not dumb enough to know what it means." a chuckle erupted from his chest as he pulled out until his tip before slamming back deeply, making your body jerk again and a moan leaving your lips.

Then a sudden shivers crawled on your body under his, making his cock more slick from your cum. Kai lets out a short deep laugh before he slides his hand from your thighs to your clit, having one of your legs hanging on his shoulder.

You try to take in deep breaths as your eyes make contacts with his lust-filled ones. He tilts his head slightly with a naughty smirk.

"You can release one more, right darling? After all, you deserve this punishment."

takami keigo (hawks) — If only you weren't slow.

Sweetheart, you knew that you could never outrun him—so, why did you still do it? You are one dumb girl with a mediocre quirk, but he still loves you. It's just that your stupid mind persuaded you to leave him. Says who? He gave you no order about that—in fact, you have no rights to step away. Once he laid his eyes on you, he knew that he had to fly and catch you.

"Ngh-ah! Fuck! K-Keigo!"

"That's it. Moan my name, sweetheart."

He grabbed your hips before pulling it to his hips with a tight grip, hitting your g-spot perfectly. You hiss at the sensation as you gently place your forehead on the wall, trying to catch your breath. Hawks continued to thrust in your pussy, but it wasn't the usual way he does. He never would have acted so rough to you if you hadn't tried to hide and run away from him.

It aches his heart to put you in this position, but you need to learn your lesson.

Pants and groans escaped his lips as he pushed you more to the wall, drunk in bliss. He snakes his arms around your chest, grabbing one of your tits to twist your nipples and waist to hold you—he wants to feel your skin. Only moans are emitted from you as you try to pull away from him while clawing his arms.

"Ah, ah, ah. Sweetheart, you'll only make it worse. Hah... s-shit. J-Just allow me–ngh–to fuck you like this," he pauses as he pulls his hips until his tip is in you before slamming it deeply to your cunt, you arch your back greatly as you moan—uttering curses beneath your breath. "You'll eventually like this..."

Yes, you will like this. He'll do anything to keep you and a good hard fuck may help him hinder your ability to walk and run.

Maybe, that is a good idea—it'll let him keep watch of you. The thought of that made him more aroused as he slowly quickened his pace. Yet, you were too fucked up in pleasure to notice the malicious intent your boyfriend had in mind.

But it's okay, as long as he has you—he'll do anything.

"Sweetheart, you know I am the only man for you, oh—ngh? Ah—fuck... hmm, right?"

todoroki touya (dabi) — If only you were strong enough.

Dilly dally doll, such a beauty you are. Yet, you are such a fucking pain in the ass. You dare to escape from him—were you insane enough to consider that he'll never find you? Doll, you are wrong there. You have such a weak body with a weak quirk, he definitely doesn't want you to go to unknown places because he actually fucking cares about you. Maybe... there is another method to keep you by his side.

Deep grunts and vulgar words escaped the scarred lips of the villain as he gripped your plump sides, shooting thick ropes of white sticky liquid in your womb.

"Take it all like a good girl, doll. That's it." he licked his lips in satisfaction as he watched the erotic scene before him.

You look so pretty under him, just being a perfect cumdump for him. Although, he just hated your pettiness—who told you that you could leave him? Just because he accidentally put on a show of his ruthless killings of heroes in front of you, you had the nerve to escape. He is just doing his job, it's not really a big deal.

His eyes darken at the thought.

He pulled his dick out of your swollen pussy, letting the cum leak from your hole and giving a painful smack on your ass. A smirk forms on his face as he slides the leak sensually back into your hole, "That's the right place. Keep it in, doll. I really don't want you to piss me off again after that silly little stunt you've pulled."

You yelp in pain when you feel a stinging heat place on your clit as you comply with his order, carrying your body in a doggy position.

A boost of confidence fires in Dabi's core as he looks at your pussy clenching to hold his essence in you. But his ego wasn't the only one that fired in you, his huge cock was standing up again. He contemplates methods

Maybe, there is a way to let you stay with him.

Before you even attempted to get up from your bruising position, your face was suddenly pushed on the bed mercilessly, your ass at a higher height with an inviting pussy, and you felt a prodding tip in your entrance as it was gone in.

A loud moan from you echoed the room smelled of sex and sweat as Dabi let out a hiss to your tightness even if your mixed essence with his served as a lube.

"Touya! Wait, I-I just came!" you exclaimed, turning your head to the side.

A deep chuckle emitted from his chest as he snapped his hips against yours. You felt a protruding bulge on your belly when he snapped, jerking your body in reaction. His eyes held a purpose behind those lust and temptation as he leaned down, marking you with hickeys.

"I need to make sure that my baby mama doesn't waste a drop of my cum. I am certain you'll be a great mama, doll."

all dividers are from @/cafekitsune, thank you <33

[rhysazriel]

Kinktober Day 3: Toys

A/N: I was considering making it a Modern AU but I had an idea for this one and just went with it hehe. 18+ only!! Includes sexual themes and use of sex toys!!

Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Strong arms snaked around your middle, disturbing your thoughts as you stirred the soup. A head rested atop you shoulder, a familiar sense of curls tickling the side of your face.

He brought his lips to your ear, soft and gentle as they caressed the skin in a ghost of a kiss. “I have a surprise for you.”

You tried to fight the fluttering of your lashes at the sound of his voice—deep and sultry—the voice he used too often in attempts to sway you to the bedroom.

“Oh?” You swallowed, resuming the stirring. “What’s the occasion?”

Azriel nipped at your earlobe, moving lower to flatten his tongue against the ridge of your jaw. “No occasion, I just have a gift for you...seeing as I’m being sent away on another mission at dawn.”

A discontented sigh slipped your lips at the reminder. It was becoming an issue; how often Rhys was sending your mate away. Az would be sent away for a week, return for a short thirty-six hours, before leaving again for another four to five days.

You understood his job, his duties. But nothing prepared you for these random spurts of hardly seeing your lover. During most of his missions, Azriel would have to close off the bond between you both. You’d be left alone, empty. Missing him and having no way to communicate.

It made you bitter. You wondered how Rhys and Feyre would cope if the roles were reversed for a month.

“So an apology gift?”

Azriel chuckled softly into the nape of your neck. “It’s a gift that benefits the both of us.” He reached a hand toward the stove, shutting off the flame and prying your fingers from the ladle.

He lifted you to sit on the counter, standing between your parted legs. You smiled at his frame still towering over you. He retrieved a slender box from within the shadows, lifting it between your bodies.

Hesitantly, you removed the lid, blue tissue paper now hiding your gift. Azriel held his breath as you moved it out of the way, watching as your eyes widened and pupils dilated.

"Azzy..." You took the toy in, fingers grazing down the feigned veins of the shaft.

Azriel hissed. "I had it magically made," he explained, his hand reaching for your face. "It's a replica of... well, mine. It's enchanted, too. Whatever you do to it... I will feel it."

Your eyes were glued to the toy–the toy that looked exactly like Azriel's cock. It's colouring the same shade, the veins in the same places. The length and width just as delicious as the real thing.

"So...you want me to use this on myself? When you're gone on missions?"

He nodded his head, his thumb stroking against your cheek. "We can talk through the bond... but on those long missions, I'll still be able to feel you and make you feel good."

Your bottom lip caught between your teeth. "Can we try it?" You look up at him. "Can you use it on me now? Show me what to do."

The darkness in his eyes exploded, his grip on your neck tightening.

Azriel grabbed the cock from the gift box, his eyes closing a the sensation he could feel in his boxers. He lowered it between your thighs, slinking his hand up your dress.

"I can smell how soaked you are, sweetheart. Is this exciting you?"

You nodded pathetically, spreading your thighs wider. The cotton of your underwear clung to you like a second skin, the wetness seeping through the fabric.

One of Azriel's shadows darted to your cunt, tugging your ruined panties to the side to give its master access. Azriel ran the tip of the cock through your folds, a shaky breath leaving his lips as a whimper left yours.

"I can feel how soaked you are." He kept his eyes on you, but you understood. His cock was bloating in his pants, he could feel you there, enticing him in.

"I'm gonna fuck you with this toy and then I'll fuck you with the real thing."

[hairmetal666]

By the grace of Robin Buckley, Steve gets into college.

She's his first real friend and it's because he knows her, loves her, learned to be a better person from her, that he's able to smile politely and take the hand of his new roommate. His long-haired, tattooed, dressed in all black roommate, who has already put up dark and menacing posters of bands Steve has never heard of and a bedsheet banner with the words "Corroded Coffin" painted on the fabric.

"Eddie Munson," his roommate says.

"Steve Harrington."

"Good to meet you, roomie." Eddie smiles so big it makes dimples pop. It's a good look. "Parents on the way with the rest of your stuff?"

"Oh, er--just me, actually."

Eddie's smile doesn't waiver. "Need some help?"

Normally, Steve would say no, but he just spent the last hour unloading Robin's stuff. "That would be great, thanks."

So, they work together to get Steve moved in, and as they work, he learns more about his roommate. He is a weirdo, an oddball, fundamentally strange, but Steve can't help but be charmed.

Eddie puts on music, something aggressive with loud guitars and drums, and Steve unpacks. He pulls out a picture of himself with the kids during one of their game nights, displaying it carefully on his desk.

"Wait," his new roommate says. "You? And the dnd children?"

Steve laughs. "They're the kids I babysit. You play that nerd game?"

Eddie's nose wrinkles. Something in the back of Steve's mind notes that it's cute. "Nerd game? Dnd is So. Much. More. It's--it's storytelling and strategy and--" Eddie stops, blinking at Steve. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"

"Little bit," Steve smiles.

"I can't believe you know dnd. That you babysit nerds. You look like such a jock," Eddie shakes his head in disbelief.

"I am a jock," Steve agrees. "And I love those dorky little shitheads. I tolerate the game."

"Steve Harrington. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Guess so." The smiles they share are wide and sweet, bringing out Eddie's dimples in way that makes Steve long to touch.

After that, they're inseparable. Robin and Eddie and Steve. They study, eat, go to parties, hangout; anything, as long as they're together.

---

Three weeks into the semester, as Steve gets dressed after swim practice, he pulls a shirt out of his bag that doesn't belong to him. It's a black tee, Metallica logo front and center. He chuckles, puts it on. It's soft from wear and smells of laundry detergent and Eddie--cigarettes and leather and some kind of sweet musk. The scent puts him at immediate ease.

He meets Robin and Eddie for lunch. They were early, already have their food and seats, so he walks over to drop off his backpack. Eddie gives him a bright, dimpled smile, but within seconds his mouth is falling open a little, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

"You alright, man?" Steve asks.

Eddie startles, grabs his cup, jamming the straw into his mouth to chew at the plastic."You're--my shirt?" he says.

"Oh, shit. Sorry. Grabbed it by accident. I'll wash it for you."

His roommate flushes pink. "N--no, you don't have to worry about it."

He wants to question Eddie further--he's being so weird--but Robin interrupts. "Dingus! Go get food. Hurry up!"

He does as he's told, but when he comes back, Eddie is even redder than before, and Robin has a wide smirk across her face.

"What is going on with you two?" He asks as he puts his tray down.

Neither of them answer, andEddie launches into a passionate re-telling of some music student drama, so Steve let's himself be distracted.

---

It's mid-October and Steve's coming home from the gym, the one place that Robin and Eddie refuse to accompany him. As he nears his room, he hears music. It's not heavy metal, but something soft and slow and acoustic.

He tries to be quiet as he unlocks the door and enters, doesn't want to disturb Eddie, doesn't want him to stop playing. He never practices when Steve is home, says he doesn't want to be a bother with the noise.

Eddie's sitting on his bed, guitar in hand. There's a battered notebook open next to him, a pencil held between his teeth. He hums a bit, pauses to jot something down, and goes back to playing.

He looks beautiful, Steve thinks, bent over his guitar.

Steve is just about to announce himself when Eddie stops playing again. He writes something in the notebook before resting his head in his head. "Pathetic, Munson. Get it together," he mutters.

"Hi!" Steve says. It startles Eddie, who jumps and almost drops the guitar.

"Stevie!" Eddie stumbles to his feet. "I--uh--you're home!" His face is crimson.

"You're really good, man," Steve says. "I'd love to hear more sometime."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," Eddie nods his head, grabbing for the notebook and slamming it closed. "Sure thing." He stuffs his feet into his Reeboks. "I gotta--I gotta go. Back soon."

Eddie stumbles out their door, notebook clenched firmly in hand.

He is so weird.

---

In mid-November, Robin gets invited to a party by a cute girl. They all go.

Steve isn't trying to hook up. He hasn't slept with anyone since they started school, too caught up with Robin and Eddie. But there's a girl, wavy brown curls and wide green eyes (he has the fleeting thought that they should be deep brown, that it's wrong that they aren't), and she's smiling at him.

Flirting with her is easy.

He doesn't know what breaks his concentration, but he turns to face the rest of the room, eyes falling on Eddie. Eddie who is watching him, his deep brown eyes swimming with hurt, with anger.

It sends a shock of pure panic up his spine. "Eddie!"

Eddie turns on his heel, disappearing in the crowd. Steve follows, but by the time he navigates through the partygoers, his roommate is nowhere to be found. He hurries back to their dorm, heart pounding in his ears, mouth dry.

It's dark in the room, though, and for a second he thinks Eddie isn't home, after all. But he turns on the light, illuminates the rigid lump under Eddie's quilt.

"Eddie?" Steve says, voice soft.

He doesn't respond, though Steve can tell he's awake. He tries again, but Eddie curls deeper under his covers.

Steve spends the night wondering what he did to hurt Eddie so bad.

---

They're back to normal after Thanksgiving. Steve is so relieved he doesn't even ask.

They stay up all night every night studying for finals. By the time Steve's last test rolls around, he's giddy and frantic. He grabs his textbook, shoves a notebook into his backpack, gets to the English building with just enough time to take a last look at his notes.

Only, he flips the notebook open and it's not his English notes. It's song lyrics.

Steve should close it. Put it back in his backpack. It's private. But he's already reading the lyrics written there. They're sexy. The song's about a guy, one Eddie seems to be totally gone for.

A line catches his eye, "need you on every surface in our room." He reads it again and again until the only thing he can see is the phrase, "our room." His whole body is warm, heat pooling, and he's chubbing up in his jeans in the middle of his English class.

Steve flips the pages, anything to get his mind off of that song, and that's when it hits him like a ton of bricks. All those weird moments--the t-shirt, the song, Steve flirting with a girl-- Eddie likes him.

Steve wants to rush to the dorm, wants to confess everything, even starts to stand, but--he has a final to take.

He makes himself close the notebook, but catches sight of another song as he does. It's a love song. It's plaintive and yearning and wanting. And every lyric is for him, about him, about things they did together. It's also unfinished, breaking off mid-way through the second verse.

He doesn't know how he missed it before, but as the professor hands out the test paper, Eddie is all he can think of.

---

When he finally gets back to the room, he finds Eddie's frantic, hair frizzed around his skull. All his bedding is on the floor, the drawers of his wardrobe pulled open.

"Eddie?" Steve asks.

"Have you seen my notebook?"

"What?" Steve's heart drops.

"The black one? It's kind of beaten up?"

"I--uh, yeah. Sorry, Eds. Accidentally grabbed it on my way to class." He pulls his backpack from his shoulder, unzipping it.

"Did you--did you read it?" Eddie's voice shakes, his face painfully red.

Steve doesn't know what to say, what to do. He wants Eddie. Has for a long time, just hadn't been able to put it together. And he doesn't know how to fix what's spiraling out between them.

"Eddie," he says. Can think of nothing else, hopes his desperation is clear in his voice. "Please." He closes the distance between them, slowly, carefully. Cups Eddie's chin in his hand.

They stare at each other, Eddie's eyes wide with shock. Steve can feel the other man's breath on his face, smell the tobacco and sweet musk scent of him.

"Every surface of our room, huh?" Steve asks.

Eddie's cheeks flush. He turns away, bashful. "Something like that."

"And if I want it too?" Steve whispers.

The words hang between them for several beats, before they both move to close the lingering distance between them. Their mouths slip together, like it's nothing, like they do this all the time. Steve grasps at Eddie's curls, fists a hand into his t-shirt, totally lost to the rhythm of the kiss, the easy slip of Eddie's tongue in his mouth.

Eventually, the come up for air, both pink cheeked and panting.

"You're full of surprises, Steve Harrington." Eddie breathes.

"Just wait," Steve smirks, moves in to nip at Eddie's bottom lip. "We have so many surfaces."

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter six

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): 18+ content, light smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, mentions of curses and dark magic

series masterlist; previous part; next part

You both silently stared at eachother, surrounded by the knickknacks in the Room of Requirement.

"You look like you're thinking awfully hard." you say in a teasing whisper.

"I'm trying to figure out if that really just happened, or if the weed has fogged up my brain." he replies in with a huffed laugh. You laugh and step a little closer to him so that you're chest to chest and you stare up into his eyes as you smile. Gods, he was so fucking tall.

I can assure you, it was very real.

He smirked.

So you wouldn't mind if I did it again?

He kissed you with fervour. You felt insatiable; you felt like an addict, longing for more of his touch.

Mattheo. He groaned when you mentally whined his name.

You sound so pretty, sweetheart.

His hands trailed from your hips to your shoulders, until they cradled your face, bringing you even closer so he could deepen the kiss. Then, almost as if he didn't know where to settle them, his hands trailed back down, past your hips to the curve of your bum, cupping the underside of your thighs.

"Jump for me." he mumbles as his grip tightens. You do as he says and he brings your face to his level, causing your arms to briefly squeeze at his shoulders before you loosen them and bring your palms to cradle his face, angling your's to a better position. He groans, moving his lips to the long column of your neck; you tilt your head to the side to give him more access.

You drive me mad, sweetheart. Gods I don't think I'll ever be able to stop.

Then don't. You whimper as his teeth graze a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

"Tell me you want this." he mumbles, licking and sucking at your sensitive skin.

"I want this- Gods I want you so badly." your reply is delayed as you lose yourself in the euphoric feeling of him. Suddenly you're spun around and dropped, rather unceremoniously, on the plush velvet cushions of the chaise lounge that Mattheo was utilising before you came in; he was towering over you, leaning on his strong forearms that were positioned on either side of your head.

He presses forward and kisses your lips softly, gently trailing them down your chin, to your neck, his body moving to hover over your's so that his hands could toy with the fabric of your blue and bronze tie. Silently asking if he can remove the obstacle in the form of your school uniform and you happily oblige, shoving away at your robe sleeves as he meticulously undoes the knot of your tie. You repeat the same motion with the emerald and silver tie donning his collar and fight to remove the buttons from the holes of his shirt which leaves an open view of his stunningly sculpted abdominals that ripple against supple, tanned skin.

Patience, sweetheart. He says, his voice echoing in every crevice of your mind. Smooth and silky like honey.

He kisses you again before his mouth travels south, his fingers deftly removing your arms from the sleeves of your shirt once he got the buttons undone.

"Gods. You're a criminal for hiding all of this from me, sweetheart." He mumbles into the skin of your collarbone, onyx eyes staring up at you under his long lashes, desire deepening steadily.

You furrow your brows. "What?"

He sucks a deep mark into your skin before soothing it with his tongue.

"Your body is divine, Meadow." he groans as he kisses along the strap of your bra, one hand travelling behind your back and lifting your body up, with your help, so that he can unclip it, with unsurprisingly accurate precision.

Mattheo moves even further down your body, hands beginning to massage the sensitive skin of your thighs as he spreads them apart, flipping the fabric of your skirt up. He's pressing kisses at your naval now, following a path from the bottom of your belly button to the edge of your panties. He huffs a laugh at the fact that you had coincidentally decided on wearing a lacy dark green pair that day.

Piss off. Your voice is a low grumble in the forefront of his mind, which only makes him laugh more. But he sobers quickly, pressing a kiss to where your clit sits under the cover of your panties. He teases you like that for a long minute: presses kisses to and massages the sensitive area, watching you with hawk-like eyes as you squirm under his hold.

Your whines and moans spurred him on, so he continued until you were practically begging for him to do something...anything more.

"What's the magic word, sweetheart?" he teases, his voice a low, taunting rasp.

"Please." you mumble with a whimper. Matt-"

That's seemingly all it takes for his resolve to crack and he practically tears the underwear from your body, throwing up somewhere behind him. Immediately, he buries his face in your core, using his tongue to lap up the wetness that had begun to pool there, thumb brushing sensually against your clit.

Gods. You're so wet. 'S this all for me? You can't see his expression from where he's devouring you whole, but you can feel and hear the smirk in his voice.

"Yes!" He was so good. So effortlessly good that you didn't know if you'd exclaimed out loud or in your head. It was so overwhelmingly good.

He lapped at your centre like you were the first meal he'd had in days, and when you felt a familiar tightening in your core, he seemed to become more feral, transcending from a man starved, to something entirely more alluring.

When he used two of his fingers to scissor you open while his thumb nimbly rubbed fast circles on your clit, you came with a shout, curling over his body, and yanking at the mop of unruly black curls atop his head. He groaned and you keened from the overstimulation as he carried on, speed increasing in fervour as he kissed, sucked and licked at your most sensitive parts.

"Matt- Théo, please! T-too much! Ah!" you were reduced to a babbling and whining mess as he took his fill from you, hands tracing soothing circles against your thighs as he brought you through your climax.

When he finally relented, you were panting from exhaustion, eyes glazed with lust and skin shiny with sweat. When you looked at him, you all but melted into a puddle of desire: his mouth and chin was slick with your cum and he was slowly sucking the fingers he'd had inside you, not thirty seconds ago. Gods he was so fucking attractive.

You weren't even ashamed to be openly oggling him as he used his discarded wand to summon a couple flannels to clean you both up.

"You taste heavenly, sweetheart." he mumbles as he presses another kiss to your lips. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue. You want more. You want him.

"No. The first time I fuck you will be in a bed, sweetheart. Not some old chaise lounge in the middle of a room that anyone can walk into." he says with a smirk as you narrow your eyes at him, but your face only holds a sort of satiated amusement.

"Get out of my head, you dick." you let out an airy giggle as he flicks your forehead lightly.

It all feels so...domestic. Completely flipping what you thought you knew about him. But you suppose you'd learnt more about him in the weeks you'd spent in his presence than you had in the entire almost six years you'd been at Hogwarts.

You'd never seen this side of him before, however.

"If you tell a soul, I'll have to do unspeakable things to you." he says, smirking as he unapologetically rifles through your recent thoughts, but you find that you really don't care.

"What sort of unspeakable things?" you ask, a teasing lilt to your tone.

He only chuckles, that wicked smirk gracing his features.

"One day, you'll find out, but not today. We need to talk." The serious tone of his voice washes away any of the warm, bubbly feelings you had garnered at his response to a possible repeat of whatever had just transpired. Sobering you up from your lust-driven state immediately.

~∞~

As you both go through the motions of sorting yourselves out properly, you're relieved that the atmosphere, at the very least, isn't an awkward one. Once you're in your uniform once again, creases smoothed out, tie neat and pristine, arms folded across your chest, Mattheo guides you through the meandering trails that littered the Room of Requirement, until you come across something akin to a library – towering bookshelves and a cosy looking sofa, complete with an old mahogany coffee table.

"Sit down, Princess." he says softly, and you do as he says, watching as he walks to the nearest bookshelf and reaches for a book on a particularly high shelf, titled A History of Curses and Dark Magic, Volume Three.

"What are we going to read eachother post-coital stories now too?" you scoff with an unsatisfied scowl on your face.

"Not quite." he chuckles at your put-out expression. "I've spent the last week researching different curses and forms of detecting dark magic." He sits beside you, thigh brushing against your's. "And I think I've found out what's happening to you."

Curiously you take the book from his hand. It was old, heavy. The pages were beginning to brown and tear at the edges, the spine cracked insurmountably.

"What did you find out?" you ask, turning to look at him, to find him staring at the column of your neck, where he'd left a mirage of love bites and hickeys. You smirk as he mumbles a basic healing charm, watching the way his face sours when the marks magically fade away.

"Can you show me what happened when Dumbledore gave you the ring you told me about?" he questions, bumping his thigh to your's. "Open your your mind to that memory, like I taught you."

You do as he says, closing your eyes and allowing the vivid memory to take ahold in your mind, your own voice a distorted echo as you feel Mattheo's presence permeating the memory.

"Interesting." Dumbledore says as he pulls an old signet ring from his deep robe pocket, holding it out for you to take. You watch imperceptibly as Mattheo narrows his eyes on the ring, his ring.

"Can you tell me what you feel when you touch this, please?" Dumbledore's voice echoes in your mind. You do as he says and take the ring into your hands. Twisting it around your fingers, allowing your magic to swirl around it before it burns your fingers. You drop it in an instant. That same cold, tingling feeling you felt when Blaise rotated the necklace washed over you right afterward.

"It's cursed?" you asked, looking up at the Headmaster for confirmation, who is staring at you with knowing, inquisitive eyes.

"Something like that, yes." he says, his decaying hand twitches in response. You watch as the ring seems to vibrate in your lap, something that was amiss to you in the original moment.

You suck in a breathe when you're both forced from the memory. Mattheo is looking between you and the book curiously.

"The way your magic surrounded the ring. It's beautiful." he says. "It's one of seven, you know. I have one and the other five are in the manor."

The signet ring on his hand, that you never seemed to notice before, glints in the dim light of the room, the insignia is identical to the one in Dumbledore's possession.

"Seven rings?"

"No, seven heirlooms. Two rings and five other things that I've never been allowed to touch. They're all quite ugly actually, never had any use for them."

"I don't think the ring is ugly." you say, taking ahold of his hand to bring the ring closer to your face. "It's weird. I felt the energy in the one Dumbledore gave me the second he walked into the room, as well as in the memory itself. This one feels....lifeless."

"The book says it has something to do with different magical cores." Mattheo explains and you nod in understanding.

"You can do wandless magic just as well as you can do non-verbal magic." a statement, not a question. as if he already knows the answer and just wants to hear proof. "But wandless magic takes even the greatest witch or wizard years to master." he continues. "I've seen your development. It took you mere months to master that skill."

"Stalking me now, Riddle?" you tease, but when he doesn't entertain your jokes, your smirk drops. "What are you insinuating?"

"Where do you draw your magic from when you perform wandless magic?"

It's a bit of a taboo in the wizarding world. If you told your friends about the source of power you use, you'd surely be looked at like you were insane, specifically by Hermione who would've surely come across this sort of thing in her mountains of extracurricular reading. But you had grown frustrated when the only progress you'd made upon teaching yourself the throes of wandless magic, was lifting a quill an inch into the air for less than a second. The magic you utilised instead is highly unstable when used incorrectly, and it's borderline illegal in the minds of few people, namely those in the Ministry who specialised in Magical Cores. It teetered on the edge of unassailable power – something most people wouldn't dare mess with.

"I draw it from the air." you mumble, turning away from him, ashamed. "I know it's unconventional. I tried using my own magical core, but it never seemed to work. I did it on accident the first time, but I was successful. Then when I tried again the conventional way, it didn't work. I don't abuse the power, only borrow."

He tilts his head as realisation seems to seep into his features.

"Show me?" he asks, squeezes softly your hand with his large one that you're still holding, unconsciously.

You nod, hesitantly shifting your gaze to the book in his lap. You focus on drawing from the energy surrounding the old hardback, watching as the swirls of your magic, invisible to the boy beside you, intertwined with with potent magic supplied by the Room's core. You felt a rush of power surge through you as the book begin to levitate from Mattheo's lap, only to fly into your awaiting palm. You inhaled sharply at the prickly feeling the magic left coarsing through your veins.

"Incredible." he mumbles as he stares between his lap and the book that you now had in your grip. "And you did that using the magic in the air, not your own?"

You nod. "It always leaves a minute lasting effect afterwards, sort of like a consequence of using another magical source. There has to be a balance. If I do it too much I begin to feel a little dizzy, but I've never fainted like I did in the Wing last week."

"I was right." he mutters to himself, nodding his head, his lips quirking. You raise a brow at him.

"Care to share with the rest of the class?" you question, sarcastically.

"You're a syphon, love."

You sit there for a moment, silently contemplating his words. A syphon. A rare ability among few witches over the centuries; even rarer than a seer.

"How'd you come to that conclusion?"

"I wasn't sure until you showed me how you draw power from the air around you."

When your face drops to a confused frown he draws your body into his, lifting you so that you're sat on his lap, facing him.

"Listen. This isn't a bad thing. It's far from a bad thing. Trust me, sweetheart." he reassures. It's obvious to you that he knows something that you don't.

"What aren't you telling me?" you mumble, hands reaching to mess with the curls at the nape of his neck.

"When its safe for you to know, I'll tell you I promise. But for the sake of saving my friends-"

"And you." you interrupt, but he only shakes his head.

"For the sake of my friends, I can't tell you until the time is right."

"And when will that be? After you ghost me for another week? A month?" you sigh. "Is that what you're going to do when we walk out of here?"

He sighs deeply, his hold on your hips tightening ever so slightly as he brings you closer to him.

"That was a mistake on my part, sweetheart. You make me feel things that I was certain I wouldn't ever feel. I'm truely sorry."

He seals the apology with a long, breathtaking kiss, which momentarily leaves you unable to speak.

~∞~

Some hours later, you're sat beside Hermione at the Gryffindor table for dinner, Harry sat opposite you both. Ron was further down the table with Lavender Brown practically in his lap, the former of your friends sending poorly hidden glares his way.

"How's befriending Professor Slughorn going, Harold?" you ask, taking a sip out of your bronze goblet. After Dumbledore's visit last week, you sought out your three friends and demanded answers regarding Slughorn and Harry. But much like you, Dumbledore wasn't being as straightforward with the Chosen One as he thought he would be, especially after the miscommunication of last year, which inadvertently got Harry's Godfather killed.

"Not brilliantly." Harry mumbled as he stabbed his fork into his chicken.

Hermione scoffed.

"He's completely understating." she said. "It's going abysmally."

"Well, what methods have you used to get the information?" you ask, incredulously. How difficult was it to get information out of a man who spent his free time in the pub drinking away his sobriety?

Harry stammered as he tried to think of a reply and you balked at him.

"You didn't just outright ask him did you? Harry are you an idiot?" He gaped at you as Hermione snickered behind her goblet.

"Dumbledore showed me the half-memory that Slughorn gave him. There's a vital piece of information missing." he cringed as your face morphed into further disbelief. He knew that you knew he'd done the complete opposite of the logical thing to do.

"Don't tell me you tried to play out the memory with him, when Voldemort's own son could have been eavesdropping from fifty feet away?" you snapped, feeling entirely not guilty for dragging Mattheo's name into it. What does that say about the person you've began transitioning into?

"I'm not an idiot." he ignored your deadpan look, shaking his head he rambled on. "I sought him out after our last potions lesson, when everyone had left."

He stopped abruptly, turning to Hermione who, in turn, swivelled to face you.

"Speaking of Riddle," she started. "You weren't in the library earlier when I went to find you. Actually, I haven't seen you since after Ancient Runes after lunch."

"You're name wasn't on the map." Harry accused, eyes narrowing behind his thin wire glasses. "Riddle's wasn't either."

"Why were you in the Room of Requirement with him?" Hermione asked gently, as if she were trying to coax a misbehaving child to fess up information.

Internally, you were beginning to panic; the lies and excuses you'd been sporting for Mattheo's sake fizzling out by the seams. Your heart was irratic and you would've confessed there and then, had it not been for the calming presence of Mattheo's magical core in your mind.

What's wrong sweetheart, you look like you're going to pop a blood vessell.

Charming, Matt truly. You snark and he chuckles in your mind before his presence washes a feeling of seriousness over you.

What's wrong? He's insistent.

They're suspicious of us. Of why we were in the Come and Go room together.

How did they know about that?

That isn't important. You weren't stupid enough to give away one of Harry's best assets. What do I tell them without having to lie. I can't bare to lie again.

He's silent for a moment and you internally curse him as Harry and Hermione seem to be berating you, but you hear none of it, focusing on the pulsing of Mattheo's magic as he takes his sweet time to respond.

Tell them what you were doing. Say that you were annoyed by my avoidance; that it interrupted your schedule; that I was taking advantage of your time.

Harry was in the middle of a they-are-all-Death-Eaters spiel when you interrupted him to finally answer after what had only been a few moments.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Harry. I've been tutoring him since the start of the year. Which you both already knew." you send a look towards Hermione, who shrinks away. "He's been avoiding me all week – Rowena knows why – so I made Theo tell me where he was."

You stifled a laugh when Theo dropped his fork under the deathly glare that Mattheo sent his way.

Behave. You mentally slap him.

He smirked wickedly at you.

"He was probably doing his father's bidding." Harry spat.

"Maybe. But he needs a stellar Ancient Runes grade if he wants Theo to keep him on the Quidditch team. I'm doing Teddy a favour, nothing more." you reassure, and while it was only a half-lie, the guilt ate away at you all the same.

The pair seemed to sigh in tandem before Hermione turned to you, apology written all over her face. The guilt seemed to intensify.

"Just–" she paused, glancing over at the Slytherin table momentarily. "Just be careful will you? I don't want you to get hurt."

"I am being careful Mione, don't worry about me." you smile, but your pretty sure that, and judging by her unconvincing glance shared with your friend, she doesn't believe a word you say.

And after what happened in the Room that could grant you whatever you wished for, you weren't so believing in your resolve either.

~∞~

wasn't actually planning on writing smut this early but it kind of just happened lol this ones quite a long one, but i had a lot of things to add for the plot

sidenote; ive finally started reading acotar after its been on my tiktok fyp for time and low-key i see why i dnf'd the first time i tried reading it😭 but im speeding through it actually - im on like chapter 20 i think

taglist:

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed

[randomshyperson]

I'll Crawl Home To Her - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: A rewrite of the fight scene in WandaVision, with a less aggressive but equally painful discussion. 

Warnings: canon-typical Westview angst, talking about magical submission and free will, established relationship, some grief mentions, rough kissing just because I can, love confessions/reaffirmations | Words: 1.644k

A/N-> I'm just rewriting loose scenes from WandaVison, none of which are really going to end up in anything bigger. But I hope it's a decent read. 

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

“It’s not often that you get a dog and bury them the same day.”

To your line, Wanda could have chosen to mumble in agreement. She could have said she was sorry, or she could have chosen to remain silent.

Instead, she chooses sarcasm, as if she had a good idea of how ridiculous everything was starting to get around that town.

“Well, life moves pretty fast out in the suburbs.”

You end up sighing, able to feel the anger slowly building up in you. Wanda continues to put toys away, and you decide to wipe your hands on the nearest dishcloth before turning to your wife.

"I spoke to Norm this morning." You start with a serious look on your face, and Wanda, oh your beautiful, stubborn wife, makes a mocking expression. You don't understand why she's acting this way. "He told me things that really frightened me, Wanda."

It was her turn to take a deep breath, the confidence in her expression wavering for a second. There was only one balcony between the two of you, but somehow the emotional distance was immeasurably greater.

Wanda looks you in the eye. "What's that supposed to mean, darling?"

“You tell me.”  You hit back without hesitation. But what you get from Wanda is a tired sigh, falsely innocent.

"I didn't know it was charades night again." She continues to mock. 

You can't remember if Wanda was ever cruel, but it's a fact that you can't remember anything that happened before Westview.

"I got scared because he was scared, Wanda!" You insist, approaching the counter to lean on one hand, while the other gestures your despair. "It was like a different person, a real, suppressed personality crying out to be released. It was accidental, of course, to discover this. But I'm not an idiot, Wanda. I can see what you're doing. The things that are changing around us every time something gets out of your control. And I don't understand why, and you won't talk to me, and I'm so scared!"

The tears in your eyes match hers. "Stop." She pleads earnestly, but you shake your head.

"You don't want this." You say.

Despite the emotion in her eyes, and the thick tears, Wanda gives a short, ironic laugh, her head tilting slightly. "Don't I?"

"If you did, I wouldn't know. I wouldn't be able to see, to question.” You sigh.”You’ve always been so... extraordinary." Her expression suddenly flinches at the compliment. "Your abilities, your power, I can't tell what happened before this place, but I know about now. There's not a trace of doubt in my mind about you, about how magnificently powerful I've always perceived you to be. Not even about how much I love and trust you." Wanda swallows dryly at your words, but you give a sad sigh. "Then I don't understand why you keep letting me see the flaws. If you're going to lie to me, leave me in the dark. Because I think I'm losing my mind little by little. I can't ignore the suffering of those people, and I can't ignore the uncertainty that grows in my chest every second. I can't remember anything, Wanda. I see those pictures on our walls, those fabricated memories, and nothing reaches me. I can't even recall if I had any kind of family before this place."

Wanda comes around the counter with a certain desperation, her hands reaching for your face. "You have a family. Me and the boys, why can't that be enough?"

Your hands reach for hers. "It's not that, sweetheart. Our family is perfect. This life is the closest to heaven I could get. But I can't be at peace with it at the cost of other people's suffering. I can't ignore their pain."

"I'll help you think of something else." She responds with a nod, pulling your face in to kiss you firmly.

Kissing Wanda has always been intoxicating, a sensation that's easy to get lost in. But fresh in your mind is your coworker, terrified and begging you to get away from this place. Get away from your wife.

You pull away, breaking the kiss and ignoring the way your whole body protests. Wanda is equally out of breath, but the gleam in her eyes hides a deep irritation.

"Wanda, I-

"Save it." She interrupts, turning her back on you. You catch a glimpse of a new form of anger and hurt in her eyes at being rejected. You sigh impatiently, following her instantly. 

"You're not going to run away from this conversation, Wanda, I need to know what's going on in this place!" You practically beg, yelling at her back because Wanda just keeps walking towards the stairs. You huff angrily and teleport immediately into her path. She jumps slightly in fright, grimacing with impatience and taking two steps backward, away from the steps as you insist; "Please. Talk to me."

"There's nothing to say if you don't believe me when I tell you there's nothing wrong." But you shake your head at the words, one hand pulling your hair back. Wanda chuckles humorlessly.  "See, you already have an opinion on the subject. On me. I'm already the villain in your story, darling, so why don't you keep digging behind my back and end this whole thing?"

She mentions going upstairs again, but you stand in her way, one hand pulling her face towards yours. The kiss is more intense than the one in the kitchen, heated enough for Wanda to gasp into your mouth.

She's ready to reciprocate with the same eagerness when you break it, the hand on her cheek caressing her skin.

"Because I love you, Wanda Maximoff." You whisper against her lips, and it's not just the words, but the devotion in your gaze that makes Wanda's legs wobble. You offer her a small smile, an air of lost battle in your expression. "There is no part of me that would plan and act against you. Even here, with the truth scratching at the walls, where I could if I wanted to access the suffering of these people, I wouldn't turn against you. I can only beg for a little mercy, my love. Take the pain away from me, the doubt. I will be loyal and complicit in any of your desires and decisions."

Wanda sobs, hugging you before you can say anything. You can't remember anything that came before, but she can, as clearly as if she were there. And Wanda loved every trace of your old self as much as she loves this Westview version, willing to do anything she asks. It's not so different from the person she lost, with the most striking exception that makes it clear in that moment, that nothing could ever replace the real you. 

You would have taken Wanda out of that fantasy. For better or worse, even if she hated you afterward, even if she never forgave you, you wouldn't let her cross lines through grief, you wouldn't let her lose herself again. After all, that's what you swore to do after witnessing first-hand all the guilt she carried for Ultron's madness and the accident in Lagos. Your true version would never let her drown in sorrow and hurt people again.

But the Westview version, so sweet and devoted, would stroke her back and say the same thing you always used to say, even if now you can't remember it.

"I'm sorry if I made you cry, princess, I never meant to. Look at me so I can bring your smile back."

Wanda holds on a little tighter, tears staining your blouse. The vast majority of the times she had heard this phrase, it had been at much less dramatic moments. While she had a passion for sitcoms and things that made her laugh, you liked more emotional movies that could make you cry. And every time you had a movie session, you would tell her that, easily achieving your goal of putting a smile on your girlfriend's face. But there were also times when the situations were dramatic - a poorly planned workout where Wanda ended up hurting you and tears of guilt escaped her and you tried to make her feel better by saying that same phrase. Or when you had a fight and it got a bit out of hand, and you started your apologies that way.

Or when Thanos took you from her, and Wanda had to hear it twice because of a time stone.

She doesn't want to hear it for a third occasion. 

You're ready to say something, maybe apologize, when Wanda breaks the hug. But she holds your cheeks and presses her mouth to yours. Slowly, allowing you to taste even the saltiness of her tears. There's a shaky sigh escaping from between your lips as she breaks away again, but your affected gaze changes to a curious one as red irises stare back at you.

"I'll make it better." She whispers, nodding slightly. You swallow dry, closing your eyes and resting your forehead against hers.

The only thing you whisper is exactly what makes her hesitate. "I trust you, Wanda."

She ignores the internal conflict and lifts one of her hands to stroke the back of your neck. It must be easy, especially within Hex, to change your mind. To make you no longer question.

You repeat that you love her, and Wanda brings trembling fingers to your forehead. 

She suddenly becomes very aware that consciously, she could never do that to you. She would rather you found out everything and hated her than take away your free will. To turn you into another puppet.

She sighs shakily, ready to say she'll put an end to this whole place when the doorbell rings.

Nothing could prepare her for seeing her twin brother again, but that's another story. Besides, not that Wanda has any idea, far away from there, a fallen Avenger is being stitched back together while calling her name in their sleep.

[rosiesmuts]

Clandestine

BLACKPINK Lisa

Words: 2,200

Tags: 🍑

A/N: Late quickie.

It could only be described as paradise. The gentle rays beaming down, crystal clear blue water surrounding all around. A vast system of valleys and caves with not another person in sight. Yet the only thing your mind could process is the barely covered Thai idol–her skin glistening with beads of ocean droplets lighting up her already pale skin.

"Are you sure about this Lisa?"

"Just shut up and take the picture. I've been living under a microscope for the past 7 years."

She raises her arms above her head and poses for the perfect Instagram shot–the teeny bikini barely covering up her tight little ass.

"Let me see. Let me see." Lisa excitedly scurries over after hearing the shutter of the camera click. While she giggles and taps her fingers against her phone, you're left gawking at her ocean soaked body. Even with paradise all around, there's only one thing on your mind. Everything about Lisa was long and slender, every inch of her body from her fingers all the way down to her toes. Two tiny pieces of neon green fabric left almost nothing to the imagination; a thinly veiled excuse of a bikini. It's truly a magnificent sight, how could anyone be so toned yet soft and smooth.

"... And it's posted!" Lisa screams out energetically. Seven years of living under constant scrutiny, her contract is at an impasse while both sides remain under negotiations. Lisa was always a wild child, but now she feels the extra freedom with the weight of the company off her shoulders.

Lisa smirks, catching you staring like a deer caught in headlights. No point in denying it now, your slack jawed expression says it all.

"I'd tell you to take a picture, but you already did." Lisa teases as she catches you in the act. She walked towards you, a mischievous smile on her face, taking slow methodical strides with her long legs until she's nearly pressed against you. "Do you like what you see?" she whispers into your ears. Clearly a rhetorical question, one that she gives you no time to respond to. Hands and lips are all over you, lips nibbling at your collarbone while hands frisk at your chest. Lower and lower she goes, leaving a trail of kisses and light bites as she takes place on her knees.

She's in prime position, but she's one to play naughty little games. Over the protection of your shorts, Lisa gently grazes your shaft with delicate light touches. But that's not all, her full lips kiss the tip of your clothed cock–your desperation for her touch grows with each passing moment. Her cute face didn't match her lecherous actions, but this is only the beginning of what's to come. Her hands travel up to your waistband, her fingers sliding under the elastic. Painstakingly lowering your shorts until your friend springs into position.

"There's my favorite little toy." Lisa sing talks as she takes a hold of your cock.

"Excuse me? Little?"

"There's my favorite big toy," Lisa giggles at your bruised ego. "Now lay back and let me have some fun."

You do as instructed, laying flat on your back. Lisa straddles your right leg, leaning in to give your cock gentle kisses and licks, her soft tongue playing with your precum. She looks at you with her big gorgeous eyes, "Are you ready for some real fun Oppa?"

Her lips part and she sucks hard on your head. You moan out loud, your hips bucking upwards to meet her oral assault. Her mouth is warm and wet, it feels as though she's bathing your member in a pool of her own saliva.

"Mmmmm, I can feel you getting bigger and harder." She moves lower now, using her gentle fingertips to caress your balls. "I don't know if I'll be able to fit you in my mouth, but I'm going to try."

Her hair is getting in her face, so you hold it back. Your cock hits her throat, but she gets lower and lower each time. She gags a bit, but still manages to keep sucking away. Soon enough she's deepthroating you, her pink tongue swirling around your head as she looks up at you with a grin.

"You taste good."

Up and down she goes, taking the full length of your cock into her throat every time. The elicit noises of her gagging are the most erotic sound in the world. Lisa's stroking your thighs as she bobs her head, keeping constant eye contact. She pulls away and takes a deep breath before diving back in–holding herself down, her nose pressed against your pelvis until she turns red, tears running down her round cheeks.

She pulls herself off, coughing and gasping for air–a long trail of saliva still connected from your cock to her chin.

"I thought you said it was little." You tease as she struggles to catch her breath.

"Nope, it's big" She pouts. "But you're such a dirty boy, making me gag like that."

"I didn't make you do anything. You gagged yourself, you filthy little whore."

"Excuse me, I'm your filthy little whore." She giggles. "And I want more. Are you ready to stick that big cock into something tighter than my mouth?"

She bends over on her hands and knees, shaking her delectable cute ass in your face. As much as you love to slowly peel off her bottoms, there's no time to waste, pulling the knots on one side of her bikini and throwing the flimsy cloth into the sand.

You stick two fingers into her mouth, she sucks and licks, coating them with her saliva. Using your well lubricated digits, your tease around the ring of her ass. With great care you work your fingers inside, watching in awe as your fingers disappear into her tight hole. You continue on, twisting and twirling, spreading her out for what's to come.

"Just fuck me already" Lisa begs, always the impatient one when it comes to her ass.

"Your wish is my command, my Thai princess."

You grab ahold of her hips, moving her forward and then pushing her back. Your cock still slick with saliva, pressing your tip against her tight hole. Just your head penetrates when she lets out a scream of pain and pleasure.

"Keep going," she whimpers, her body relaxing to take more of you in.

You go slow, inch by inch, watching her as she squirms, trying not to move too fast. Her body relaxes with each pass, feeling her opening spread wider. Soon enough you're fully inside, your cock buried within her. Every inch of her is squeezing you tight. You've fucked her ass dozens of times by now, but each time gets better and better.

Your hips start moving, Lisa's moans blend perfectly with the sounds of the ocean.

"Harder, faster!" She begs.

You oblige, holding on to her hips as each slam of your hips gets faster. Every one sends shivers through her body, forcing a stuttering gasp to escape her lips. With a tug of the string to her top, it floats down into the sand–moving your hand upwards to grope her tiny tits, pinching her sensitive nipples in your hand as you pound away at her ass.

"Ohhh~" Lisa squeals, desperately trying to grasp at the sand.

"Is this what you wanted?"

"Yes, yes!" She cries out. "More!"

With that you pick up speed, thrusting with everything you have. Your stamina has grown immensely since you started fucking each member of BLACKPINK. Her body tenses up, her ass clenching even harder against your shaft.

"Just like that. Just like that." Lisa pleads. "Give it to me. Fuck me Oppa!"

"As you please"

Your pace continues, slamming into her tight little ass. Her body writhes under you, her moans turn into shrieks threatening your ear drums even in the open air. Her tenseness immediately loosens up as she screams out, her orgasm ripping through her body.

"AHHH~"

Her back arches, her ass spasms around your cock. Her beautiful face is locked in a grimace of pure ecstasy. Lisa shakes uncontrollably, her mouth wide open and her eyes squeezed shut as she convulses. You keep pounding away inside, holding onto her hips tightly, your thrusts slowing down to prolong her bliss.

"I... I..." Lisa pants, "...I haven't came that hard since that last time you fucked me."

You chuckle, kissing her on the cheek.

"I'm glad I could help, you were amazing."

"I forgot how good you feel..." Lisa leans back into your embrace. "...But what about you, Oppa? You still haven't cum." She feels your rock hard cock still pressed against her cute little ass.

She pushes you on your back, her long body looking intimidating from below as she towers over you.

"You know it felt amazing when Chaeyoung gifted you my pussy for your birthday..." She giggles.

It was hard to believe, Lisa allowing you fuck anything but her ass on her own volition, but there was no time to harp about it. She straddles your waist, reaching down to grab a hold of your cock, lining up your tip to her wet, post orgasmic folds.

You grip her hips, guiding her in. Her tight little snatch opens up for you, allowing you to easily slide inside. Lisa squeezes her pussy around the base of your cock, massaging it with her insides. She's earned the title of main dancer, doing body rolls with you buried deep inside her.

"How's it feel to have my pussy wrapped around your cock again Oppa?"

"Amazing."

"Well get ready for a ride." Her hands plant on your chest, bracing herself upright. Her feet steady themselves in the sand, then she's off to the races, bouncing herself up and down, your entire length gliding against her silky walls.

"Mmm...so fucking full..."she whispers to herself, snapping her head back. Your hands sneak up when she closes her eyes, your thumbs circling her sensitive nipples. The sudden jolt of excitement only redoubles her efforts, the sound of clapping flesh carries in the wind. A subdued moan escapes her lips and her movements become erratic. Her fingers interlock with yours, her eyes fluttering and her leg start to quiver. With a renewed, intensity, your upwards thrusts match with her downward slams and she screams out in ecstasy once again.

"Such a greedy little one, cumming again when you were supposed to be helping me."

Rather than answer your playful little tease, she leans in and shoves her tongue in your mouth, moaning into it while she rides out her orgasm. Her lips pull away and she lets out a sly smile, still leant over, her small little breasts just inches from your face. Once again, she shows off her renown dancing skills, twerking just her hips up and down. Showing off her multiple talents, her hips never stop moving even while she reaches behind and tickles your balls.

Followed up are little whispers into your ear; "They feel so full Oppa. I want you to cum for me. Cum anywhere you want. On my tiny little tits or my toned abs. Maybe on my face, hell you can even cum inside of me if you want..."

Her words are just the motivation you need.

"You're gonna make me - " You cry out, trying to hold back.

Instead of slowing down, she speeds up her twerking. Her chest rubbing against yours as she leans in and nibbles on your ears. "Just let go. Cum inside me Oppa."

Her erotic words hypnotize you into submission. You thrust upwards into her, driving yourself deeper with each forceful stroke. Her velvety walls squeezing you hard, and you finally release inside of her with a hefty groan. She keeps twerking her hips, trying to milk you for all your worth.

"That's it" She coos. "You're a dirty boy, filling me up with your cum."

She leans back and smiles, spreading her legs apart, making a display of the spunk oozing out of her and onto the sand.

"I'm a mess Oppa, but I like it." Lisa giggles.

You sit up, taking her dainty hand into yours and helping her up to her feet. She goes ahead of you, leaving her bikini behind and proudly makes her way back naked to the beach house.

She turns around and screams back at you, "GET READY FOR ROUND TWO OPPA!"

You let out a sigh, laughing to yourself, watching Lisa skip away without a care in the world. You lay back in the sand before following her back, taking the stairs up to the second floor. As soon as you enter the door, you see the four girls sitting on the couch.

"Hi!" They cheerfully greet you...

[totally-not-a-slug]

The Mystery AU | BILLSTAN

Ourgh.. Someone kill me before I make even more aus..

As you can see, bill and Stanley switch when it comes to being humans or nah..and as u can see Bill is still a FREEEEAKK.

The plot? Yea.. I'll tell ya..

Stanley a silly little demon, and is still pathetic, most of his life is the same, he reunites with Ford, they argue, and he pushes Ford and accidentally activates the machine. Stanley has just lost his brother, and is forced to comprehend the sight beyond the world that is not his. He then works his usual scamming to rebuild the portal and the rest of the story happens-

wait. That's not right..

Why is Stanley in the portal?

WHAT DO YOU MEAN FORD PUSHED HIM INSTEAD?? WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE STITCHED THE RIP CLOSED AFTER— 💥

looks through notes, ah. There we go.

Actually, it seems Stanley is forced to comprehend being in a world that is not his and is beyond all he's ever known and makes him go a little fucking crazy. He spends the rest of his century wandering areas scamming monsters, humans, ect..

Now, Onto the bill lore.

Bill is human, but still a world wandering guy, he recruited the henchmaniacs from other worlds. He makes deals with easily tricked entities for their powers, and may sometimes hunt them too. He has these powers in trinkets and jewelry.He did have two eyes, only one could see through "the sky." He lost his normal eye when he doomed his world but it wasn't something he found useful anyway. He could see entities far beyond the sky as moving stars, he is shunned for the fact he is able to see entities invisible to the normal eye. In attempt to show the world the stars were real he ripped the world apart on accident, still leaving him as a sole survivor. He uses the portal's remnants to wander around. Bill is still able to possess other entities, it's more like a fusion type thing now. He grows power hungry and began tricking this six fingered shaped demon(Ford) into creating a machine to rip the fabric of his world before the usual shit occurs between Ford and Fiddleford and the main story happens. With this machine and it takes a whole lotta power for this machine to rip it.

Stanley never meets the kids or soos

Ford is off being very successful in maintaining cryptids and trying to ensure the rip won't open up, he's currently caring for the twins and the twins brought a(a lot more less optimistic) soos along who eventually becomes his assistant. Ford tries to contact fiddleford a lot for help for another way to bringing Stanley back but bros too memory wiped to have a phone.

How Stanley met bill and his henchmaniacs.

Huh. why are these humans in My car, oh man, they look hurt.. Is that an axolotl? "Help us"? Alright.. Let's get this started- did I bring my glasses? "WHAT."

Stanley has a very desperate human trying to seduce him to trick him(failing in a way that the human is falling in love with him) he just wants to do his job, but it seems Bill and his henchmaniacs don't wanna lose him.

Bill forgets that this man can see right through him. So pushing his buttons can happen, and he doesn't seem to really mind it..

Help my man Stanley he pulled some psycho by being sad and pathetic.

[sehodreams]

I had a thought!!

the MTL in riize to get hard like a teenager when they see you walking without a bra and that they can see your nipples?? Like it's embarrassing but even just the side of boobs or the under boob make them hard ???

Don't forget to stay hydrated <3

Aww thank you so much for the message, I'll make sure to drink lots of water!!!

TW and tags: hella suggestive, this is a boob account at this point hahaha (I love that)

Most

Anton

Sungchan

Seunghan

Sohee

Wonbin

Eunseok

Shotaro

Least

Anton is still kind of immature, he's learning how to control himself, and he LOVES boobs, so it's no surprise his eyes are always on your chest. Still, he does his best, but the minute he sees the outline of your nipples, his mind starts spinning, hurrying you up to finish whatever you were doing to take you home, sitting and covering his lap with your bag until the Uber arrives. (Also, I have a headcanon of him with a swimmer teammate going to a hotel pool and getting in even if the water is cold, and then when she goes out and her hard nipples are visible through the swimsuit, he would have his first boner to a girl he knows in real life. He loves to see the underside of your boob when you wear bikinis too.)

Sungchan loves it when you go to the gym with him and keep him company. Talking to you between sets and helping you put or remove weight from the machines you use feels like a dream come true for him, but if he sees you taking off your t-shirt and you only wearing a sports bra, he'd start getting anxious, and not being able to concentrate on what he's doing with the image of you in front of him exercising with your boobs shaking because of the force you're using, he'd drop everything to take you home and lift your bra to show him properly what you have there.

Seunghan would be the one telling you to go out without a bra, after all, we're just going to the store, so who cares? well, he cares, a lot, but he wouldn't get embarrassed or anything, he'd just get a little lost on your pretty nipples poking your shirt since he can perfectly imagine them naked, and to be honest, he'd sneak a little touch between aisles after making sure no one was around.

Sohee would watch your nipples with attention, but he'd be okay, however, seeing the soft side of your boob? That would drive him mad. He gave you one of his sleeveless shirts because your coffee ruined your white blouse and you had to put it immediately in his washing machine, it wasn't nothing out of the ordinary, you knew how to use it, but he never thought you'd toss in your bra too, and seeing that little flesh of yours whenever you moved made him dizzy, it wasn't even your nipples what made him nervous, but that little plump skin, and before you notice, he's sneaking a hand inside to feel it better.

Wonbin is just like Sohee, nipples make him want to steal a few glances, but the flesh of your skin is the only thing that would make him shift uncomfortable on his seat, "I like that dress" he'd say, convincing you to wear it more, but you shake your head "too much skin" you say, not knowing how insane you're making him showing him the side of your ribcage, and especially, the side of your boobs.

Eunseok knows how to control himself, he won't get hard just with the image of your sweet chest calling for him to get a taste, but he'd have a hard time not looking at your nipples show through your t-shirt, and if you were in the privacy of his/your room, he'd tease you a lot, ''If you wanted my attention you could've just asked for it with words'', pulling you closer and playing with them over the fabric of your clothes.

Shotaro is not a kid, he won't get hard just from seeing your boobs through your clothes, but he'd get hard when his hand brushes them (on purpose), smiling and pretending he didn't mean to touch them.

[jerejerejere]

Well.

I guess I'm doing this...collection of observations from the autiomaa mv (i'm not going to call it an analysis) tonight after all 😅

So the mv starting out with a really short flash of the tear-illusion shot, then some short bursts of him in 2 locations in the mv, followed by a longer pan on a cracking facade...

The light effects on the wall look like being under water, which also kind of replicated by the fabric of his coat.

The following couple of scenes establish where he is - aimlessly wandering in some abandoned house - we zoom in intensely, almost uncomfortably close to his neck and eyes - he's making almost pleading eye-contact. He is wandering further, through the house, arriving at and entering

A staircase through a door, which closes after him.

To me, this signifies his decision to enter esc. The staircase can take you upwards - maybe signified by the lighted glass wall above. But what we see is not him confidently walking upstairs but being caught in that hallway, traveling up and down the stairs. He hasn't reached the upper floor and is caught in limbo. Alone with himself.

The therapist scene starts. He slinks in, hunched, making himself smaller than he is, drowning in his clothes. The session also takes place in a warehouse but it's set up in a way that it might as well be an interrogation.

He is pleading again - spilling everything out in the hope he's understood. However, what we see next is him talking/singing to a mirror image of himself. Either to signify he is talking to himself because the therapist doesn't listen and/or only he himself can truly understand and listen to his problems.

We get the photo scene - that one has been talked about at length

And that flash seems to start a transition in the video from where flashes were mainly used as separating element between shots to actually flashing on him physically and more relentless than before.

He is transversing more rooms and hallways - followed and faced by dozends of flashes from cameras, spotlights follow and corner him - he can't hide or evade.

He keeps traversing hallways and empty rooms but he seems locked inside - restless and defeated at the same time - either visual for his mind that he can't open up about but also very much likely his real life situation not being able to leave the house in peace.

He longingly stares out of the window. This is where i'll stick my neck out and say they deliberately recreated the visual from his Vogue shot in profile. I can only speculate but to me, it's to put something into contrast, either between then and now/after or maybe between outside vs inside. I mean. Look at it:

We see him(?) as a shadow behind the upper floor glass wall in the light - he made it there after all but we/his mind is still watching from below and can't make contact with that person up above.

His dance moves get more and more erratic, a bit like someone waiting and slowly going crazy from it.

Watching the headlines with the therapist seems to upset him. They are projected in stark white and big - because they are important to him, because they are bigger than him or because he is watching his own life happening like a movie but not feeling any of it as real. Others can't relate to it because it's just too uncommon and crazy. He realizes this while looking at his therapist, seeing how could anyone ever get it who hasn't gone through the same thing - he'll not have a chance to get this across.

His dancing gets even more lifeless afterwards - almost swaying in a traumatized manner barely holding himself upright, especially after the therapist proves to be useless and making things worse even. (To me, it's not quite clear what the cigarettes offered by the therapist signify - pharmaceutical drugs/tablets? The only way out is returning to his old vices?)

We end a little like we started - with an intense stare into his eyes. They are not pleading. They know. They see. (They demand better.)

Aaaand that's it for now. (I'm sure there will be one or two ''AND ANOTHER THING!'' but i'd love to hear from you also!!!)

Thanks for listening to my TED talk <3

[rosyhoneydew]

I'll Cover You

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek | Week 2, Day 2: Scenes from a firetruck | cw for mentions of dissociation, flashbacks

I wrote two entries for today! If mildly steamy fluff is more your vibe it's here -> Stolen Moment

The winds are strong, even days after the tornado’s long gone.

Buck hadn’t seen anything like it before. Tornadoes, sure, but the kind of large-scale damage that came from an invasive cloud of bees droning en masse and descending on the city like a plague? A first. He’s nursing a sting or two himself for a few days.

It’s almost a relief to get called on scene two days later. Almost. Because while plane crashes are, at least, familiar, they’re still grueling.

All things considered, it’s not as bad as it could’ve been. The 737 went down on land this time, but it had only barely made it off the ground before taking a nosedive back onto the tarmac. The passengers were buckled in and the drop itself wasn’t too big. So yeah, they got pretty lucky.

They’re still on the scene now. Hen and Eddie are working at the cockpit last he knew, Chim’s somewhere in the med bay here with him, working on a bigger trauma. Buck’s been handling some of the lower grade injuries and he’s cool, really. Yeah it would be nice to be out there, doing the big boy stuff, but they’ve got a new captain and he’s learning to pick his battles.

He’s just finishing wrapping up a kid’s ankle. He can’t be more than 7 but he’s been so brave, holding his little sister’s hand to keep her from crying. He’s got the elastic bandage just in place when the wind rips the kid’s jacket from where it was draped on his shoulders and under the 217’s truck.

“I gotcha!” he reassures the kid quick. “One sec, you stay right here for me, okay?”

Buck shuffles over to the truck in a walk-run and bends down low to peek underneath. It would probably be easier to grab the jacket from the other side, but he’s already here so he just finishes ducking down, crawls under and reaches out for the corner of the fabric.

He’s still under the truck when the next big wind hits. It leaves the truck shaking and groaning around him. Buck freezes. It feels like all logical thought in his brain shuts off.

The truck isn’t going to tip over. He’s not stuck. If he had the presence of mind he could wiggle his toes, even. But there’s something about being under here, hearing the voices around him, it has him tense all over. He can’t move.

When he looks back on it, he’ll wonder why it set him off. It’s not nighttime, there are no kids with bombs strapped to them, it’s not like he was even under the truck when it tipped last time. It’s a fluke, almost. But it can’t be helped. He’s petrified.

—

Tommy honestly thought his first call working with the 118’s A-shift would have had a little more novelty, but it’s just been long. He’s happy to see Evan, of course, but he hardly sees him. He’s been over in the med bay for the last couple of hours that Tommy’s been teamed up with Viera, pulling passengers out of the wreck.

He had at least been able to drop off an older woman directly to Evan about an hour ago.

Well, Patricia, it looks like your day is looking up! You’re in good hands with this one. He’ll patch you up real good.

Ahh, my job’s the easy part. You’re just lucky firefighter pilot Kinard was here to save you.

She’d only had a sprained wrist, but Tommy had watched them from afar for a minute, ever impressed with the way Evan kept her calm, reassurances and jokes taking the fear out of her eyes. He has to turn back before long, but he lets that moment carry him through the next push. He’s going home to that man.

He’s jogging back to check in at base when he hears crying to his right. There’s a kid standing still, holding the hand of a little girl and he’s wailing at the sky. That doesn’t seem right. Tommy’s eyes track around the area and he spots boots sticking out of the side of their truck. Definitely not right. He changes course, picking up his speed as he approaches the kids.

“Hey, bud, you okay?” He’s got his hands on the boy’s shoulders, grounding him, hopefully. “You hurting anywhere?”

The kid coughs out a few more sobs in Tommy’s face, but he shakes his head. He looks like he’s willing himself not to be scared. Jesus, kids are resilient.

“Alright, that’s good, I’m going to check on my friend here, you gonna be okay for a minute?” A nod. Good.

Tommy turns his attention to the truck behind him, lays flat, knocking his helmet off in the process. The guy’s not moving, but Tommy’s not able to figure out at a glance what happened here. There’s no gas leak, no threat to public safety over here.

“You good, man?” he calls out.

The body of the guy twitches. Not dead. That’s good. He clears his throat.

“Can you feel your feet? I can try to move you but I need to know if you’ve got any injuries I should watch out for.”

No response. Okay. Time to change tack.

Tommy rights himself and walks to the other side of the truck, resuming position on the asphalt. He shuffles in a little closer and finally gets a look at the guy’s face.

Evan. It’s Evan.

“Evan?” he says. He’s not sure it comes out as much more than a breath.

Evan’s eyes do flick to his then, but there’s still something distant in his gaze. He’s dissociated. It comes to mind then, the stories told at happy hours and trivia nights, and the ones told only in the sanctuary that is their bedroom. They're good stories, but Tommy knows better than most the toll that kind of shit can take on a person. Evan's having a flashback.

“Alright, alright, baby,” Tommy says under his breath. He’s not sure Evan would hear him even if he spoke up. He looks pretty gone.

Tommy scoots half a foot closer, puts both palms flat to the ground.

“Evan,” he starts, “can you do this with your hands? Just like mine.” He flexes his hands a bit to demonstrate.

Evan’s own hands are balled up. It looks like he army crawled under here. His arms are bent at his sides, curled in tight half under his body. He blinks a few times.

“Your hands, Evan.” Tommy picks his own up and places them back down again. “Just like this.”

Evan mirrors the movements.

“Good job, that’s perfect.”

“Kinard?” He hears from behind him.

“We’re good here, Sloane.” Who knows if she’ll believe him; she’s a damn good secondary when they’re in the air but she’s nosy as all get-out.

He hears the sound of her turnouts rustling as she shifts around, deciding whether to stay or go.

“Sloane. I got this. Can you round back to the kids on the other side? I’m going to be here a minute.”

He hears the sound of boots squeaking behind him as she does what he asks. Okay, Ev, just you and me.

Evan’s fingertips are curling, his eyes pinched closed.

“Ev, sweetheart, look at me.” He does. “I’m gonna grab your arm okay? Then we can work on getting you over here. Sound good?”

There’s no response, but that’s okay. Tommy’s going real slow. He reaches out and places a sure hand on Evan’s arm.

“Can you push yourself toward me?”

His eyes close again and for a second Tommy falters, mentally jumping two steps back to figure out a different path forward. But then Evan pushes. He digs the meat of his hand into the ground and uses the leverage to slide his body toward Tommy.

“Just like that. Exactly like that.”

He’s close enough now that Tommy can reach his shoulder. He gets a good grip and rolls Evan the rest of the way, pulling him up to sitting once he’s on his back and out from under the belly of the truck. He watches as Evan scrambles to pull his feet out.

Tommy’s got him sat in between the V of his legs, one arm around his waist, and brings the other up to Evan’s face, pushing the damp hair off his forehead. They’re tucked in between trucks, so the sound of commotion from the continued efforts of the other houses is muffled. The loudest thing he can hear is their panting, both going a little boneless with relief.

Tommy places a kiss to Evan’s temple. He’s sweaty there too. He feels Evan’s breathing slow down a bit, but he’s reluctant to break the quiet. He’s not sure that Evan’s flashbacks are like his, everyone’s a little different, but he sometimes needs the silence after. Just to collect himself. So he gives that to Evan, too.

“Did- did you get it?” Evan finally says, startling Tommy just a bit.

“Get it?”

“The jacket.” He’s smoothing his palms over his pants; nervous habit.

Tommy stretches his neck to look behind him, sees the blue rain jacket lying there. He can pinch it with his fingers from where they’re sitting. He drags it out. Troublemaker.

They sit together for another minute. Tommy can hear Sloane marching the kids away to find their parents. If he really tunes into the noises around them, he can hear some laughter and lots of walkies; they're finishing up here. He'll probably get called in soon enough to pack up.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

Evan nods, then tips his head back onto Tommy’s shoulder. “Better. Thank you.”

Tommy moves his hand down to Evan’s face, just to tilt his cheek a little closer, plants a long, sure kiss there.

“I’ve got you.”

Evan smiles. “Yeah, you got me.”

[lowkeychenle]

And Then It Was [ZCL] (M) fic teaser

Description: After your marriage with Chenle was arranged by your parents for a company merger, things with him aren't quite like you expect. In your life full of obligations, he's determined to finally give you the ability to make your own choices.

Genre: Smut/Fluff/Angst (arranged marriage!au, rich families using their children as business mergers yk) (no actual smut in the teaser but the tension kinda wild lol)

Content Warnings: Not sure of any in the teaser, but in general content warnings will be rich, generational family trauma, mentions of pregnancy and heirs (no actual pregnancy in the fic), reader feels obligated to do literally everything and Chenle's like yeah that's not really cool, umm if I think of more I'll let y'all know

Expected Word Count: 20-30k

Teaser Word Count: 789

Release Date: 8pm EST 2023.3.22

READ HERE :)

Taglist: Open!! Please let me know if you want to be tagged when this comes out <3

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!Reader (features the rest of dream!)

Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)

“Chenle?” you call out.

When he appears in the doorway, his shirt is absent, and you were pretty sure he’d been wearing a belt before. His arms are crossed over his chest as he leans against the frame, awaiting you to tell him what you need.

You don’t have to actually speak. Instead, you turn your back to him and pull your hair over your shoulder. He hums behind you, keeping a respectable amount of distance before he grips the zipper.

“What did you do before me?” he asks, hesitant to pull it down.

“Staff.” You shrug. “But I mostly wore things I knew I’d be able to—”

The familiar sound and the rush of cool air against your practically boiling skin as he reveals more of your skin has your breath catching in your throat. You cut yourself off, immediately reaching up to hold the dress to your chest.

“I’m a very accommodating man, (Y/N).” His voice sinks into every inch of your skin. “If you need something, tell me. I’m your husband. It’s quite literally my job to ensure you’re happy, darling.”

The warmth radiating from his bare skin so close to yours has every thought in your brain flying away. Logically, there’d be nothing wrong with giving in to your temptation. It’d been a long time since anyone had touched you, and the man behind you is your husband. Physical attraction had nothing to do with emotions or feelings, so it was okay. One thing you’d never be able to deny is how he’s one of the most beautiful men you’d ever met. Your parents could’ve chosen much, much worse for you.

His voice centimeters from your ear startles you out of your trance. He says, “I wonder what you’re thinking about. You seem a bit distracted.”

“Wouldn’t you love to know.”

“Truly.”

“I need to change.”

“Do you?” He trails a finger up your spine. “You’re so soft. What an odd comparison to that steel wall you’re forcing yourself to keep up.”

“I think you’re forgetting your own boundaries.” You clench your fist into the fabric of your dress. “This wouldn’t be real.”

“What even is this?” His breath fans across your neck, and you’re sure you feel the sublest brush of his lips on your skin. “Tell me where you think this is going. After all, I’m helping you with your dress like a good husband.”

“My dress was dealt with minutes ago.”

“Darling.” He tsks. “If your dress was dealt with already, it would be long, long gone.”

Even like this, you refuse to let him win. If this were to be the extent of your relationship with Chenle, you’d be fine with that. You crave satisfaction, and you also know this is a means to an end. This may be the key to giving your family those fucking heirs they want so badly.

In a bold move, you release your grip on the fabric and allow it to crumple at your feet.

“What?” You tilt your head, grinning when his breathing halts. “Are you the only one who can deliver?”

He places his hand on your hip. “Can I touch you here?”

“Mhm,” you inhale sharply when he squeezes, trying your best not to roll back against him.

“Here?” he whispers, splaying his fingers out along your stomach.

“What’s your goal?” you ask, looking back at him over your shoulder. “You seem like you want something from me.”

His face is much too close to yours, but for some reason, it does little to bother you. When his lips part, you don’t mean to squirm in his touch.

His eyes sweep over your expression, his touch edging just a little further downward until he can play with the lace hem of your panties.

“I’ve told you what I want already.” His gaze locks on your mouth. “Everything. I want it all.”

You gulp, unable to speak for fear of making a fool of yourself.

“What about me makes this hard for you?” he asks.

Despite the softness of his voice, your proximity to him means you see the hint of hurt swimming around in his dark irises. The heat of his bare skin on yours has everything inside you awakening, but you can’t give him what he wants.

“The choice is yours.” He takes a deep breath. “Going forward, the choice is always yours to make. I’m yours in any way you want me.”

The atmosphere around you is so hot, charged, you can’t help the way you struggle to breathe. You lean closer to him, and when your lips brush his, his grip around you tightens.

Before he’s able to initiate a real kiss, a knock sounds on the bedroom door.

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Will you be my Valentine?: Sugar Day 1 Thomas Hewitt

Welcome to day one of my Valentines fic event! This event will last 7 days and end very obviously on Valentine's day itself. Each of these fics will be simple cute little fluffy fics to celebrate the holiday. I hope you all enjoy <3

Notes: Minors DNI, Fluff, SFW, No real warnings. No specific descriptions of reader or pronouns are used. If pronouns are ever used, reader will go by they/them.

On most days, the gas station was boring. Boring as hell to be exact though you'd never say that around Luda. You sat there all day in hopes that some stupid lost college kid would roll into the middle of nowhere gas station desperate for directions of any kind to get the hell out of here. A shame really that the only directions you knew were to the Hewitt household.

The rusted old bell above the door chimed to alert you that someone had entered the station. Your head snapped up from the outdated magazine that you were flipping through for the hundredth time in hopes for whatever dull human interaction you could get from whoever rolled in. When your eyes met the patron though you were even more thrilled.

"Tommy!"

You squealed as the giant of a man lumbered into the station. He walked right up to the counter you were stood at as the slightest smile could be seen through the mouth portion of his mask. You leaned over the counter to press your lips against his and he welcomed the gesture.

"You came to see me, must be slow with the meant at the house?"

Tommy shrugged and gave a sort of "I guess so" look before holding up a finger as if to say "give me a second" as he turned to head back out to the front of the station. You watched with curiosity as he walked out of sight and then returned with a small cardboard box.

Over the top of the brim of the box you could see a bundle of some of the wildflowers that grew in the unmanaged field beside the house. You smiled as Thomas once again made his way back to the counter.

He produced the bouquet first. Handing it to you with a smile grunt and a fierce red blush poking through his mask.

"Oh tommy their beautiful!" You squealed taking the flowers from him and inhaling their scent. You loved the smell of the flowers that grew by the house that even Luda insisted on always having a vase of them on the dining room table, even if Hoyt bitched.

"Tell me you didn't get more grass stains on your pants that I'll have to wash out picking these though?"

A look of guilt took over the blush, and you couldn't help but to laugh.

"Tommy! I just got the stains from the last bunch of flowers you picked out!" you teased him.

You tried to sneak a peak over what else he had in the small cardboard box, he noticed this and softly moved the box out of your line of sight before pulling something else out from it.

There, now sitting on your counter from the cardboard box was a small teddy bear. It had mismatched eyes and various random patches of fabric covering holes in it's fur.

"Oh Tommy..." You cooed looking at the small plush bear. "He's adorable!"

You looked at Tommy and thought that if it was possible for him to get any more red he might actually explode.

"You did all this for me Tommy? Why?"

Tommy gave half a headshake and then pointed over to the old calendar on the wall. The calendar was the only thing that Luda kept up to date in the station since it helped her keep up to date with her far and few between doctors appointments in the next town over.

You walked over to the calendar and unhooked it from the wall. When you placed it down on the counter Tommy pointed to the 14th of February.

"This is what you got me for Valentines day then?" A smile etching your face.

Tommy nodded enthusiastically. Luda Mae must've told him about Valentine's day, and planted the idea for him to do something for you for it. When you rolled in and Luda finally was able to see a future for her beloved boy she was thrilled and would do anything to help you two along.

"I love them Tommy, thank you honey"

Tommy gave a "You're Welcome" grunt and a head nod. He took one of his giant hands and reached across the counter to cup your cheek, you leaned into his warm hand as he caressed your face.

The shrill ring of the rotary phone on the wall brought the two of you out of the trance, you walked over and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Goddamnit is that blockheaded boy down there at the station?!"

Hoyt all but screamed down the line, you turned to look at Tommy who could obviously hear Hoyt yelling.

"Yeah Tommy's down here, why?"

"He just up and fuckin left! We have meat down in the basement to get cleaned up but as soon as he heard somethin' about goddamn Valentine's day he wandered off"

You smiled slightly and fixed Tommy with another look. Tommy shrugged and you could make out an up and down motion in his shoulders almost as if he was laughing.

"I'll tell him to head back Hoyt, Don't worry"

Before Hoyt could answer you had hung up. You made your way back over to the counter and put your hands on your hips.

"Thomas Hewitt" You playfully scolded the giant of a man. "Did you ditch your work to come and give me Valentine's day gifts?"

Tommy looked at you for a moment before nodding with an obvious smile peaking out from underneath the mask.

"Well, my shift here is done for the day, would you like to accompany me back to the house?"

Tommy gave an eager nod as you collected your flowers and the cute little bear and walked around the counter. He offered you his arm, as you tucked the bear underneath the one holding the flowers, and you happily accepted.

The rusted bell above the door dinged in notification as Tommy opened the door for you to step outside first. You stepped out into the warm February Texas afternoon as Tommy followed and reoffered his arm.

"If you get home and get your work done, I'll make you a very special Valentine's dinner for all your hard work?" you asked, looking up at him as you walked.

Tommy eagerly nodded as the two of you made your way down the abandoned road back toward the Hewitt house together. With nothing but the warm Texas sun, the breeze that cut through the humidity and a cute little patch work bear.

[hey-august]

Making Buggy detach all of his limbs and putting his arms and legs nice and safe in a chest with some sea stone. Using what remains of him as your personal little toy and watching him squirm on the bed, unable to do anything about it. Sitting cross legged with that writing torso on your lap, slowly stroking him, watching how he buckled under your touch and isn’t even able to wriggle away from you.

Easily being able to flip him around, either on his stomach so you can get a nice grab on his ass, or on his back, when you decided that you want to play with your favorite living Dildo and ride him. You sink down onto him and it’s so cute to see his shoulders move upwards, like he wants to grab you by the hips and help you sink down on him, but only being able to wiggle the stumps a bit, like they desperately want to touch you as well.

Or being real mean and lying all naked and ready in front of him. You know he’s been sooo good the entire night, it’s time for a reward, he can come over and fuck you now if he wants to. Come on! You know he can make it! Can’t he see how ready and horny you are for him? And then watching him struggle as he makes his way inch by inch over to you, struggling to even get to you at all, till he’s finally with his head on your pelvis but can’t seem to close the last few inches so he can line himself up with you. “Please. Pleasssse I’ve been so good. Please help me fuck you pleasepleaseplease.”

Taking pity on your poor, poor clown and hoisting him up by his waist a little, making him almost sob when he can finally slip inside you and fill you with uncoordinated, off balance thrusts. Pulling a few loose strands of hair from his face as he just keeps humping you in what feels like a shallow parody of his usually hard, precise movements, but this is for his pleasure right now, not yours.

You’ll get yours after he came, making him clean up his cum from between your legs before you give him back his missing limbs…. Or maybe you’ll keep him like this a bit longer, just so you can properly take care of him after and wipe the sweat of his body, having him melt into your arms utterly relaxed, not even having enough sass in him anymore to complain when you heap praise onto him while you rub his stumps. Maybe you’ll ask him if he wants to stay a little bit longer like this, content in having done a good job and knowing that you’re still here with him. Wonderful, generous, strong you, taking care of him in a state he wouldn’t let anyone else see, let alone enjoy so much if he was with anyone BUT you.

DAMN ANON. WOW.

Pulling a few loose strands of hair from his face as he just keeps humping you in what feels like a shallow parody of his usually hard, precise movements, but this is for his pleasure right now, not yours.

Thank you for this. I, uh, don't know how to follow this whole entire feast, but I'll try because you got the thoughts goingggg~

WC: ~500

Starting off, it's just fun to cuddle the clown without all those arms and legs getting in the way. Really. So Buggy indulges you and pops 'em off for some cozy snuggling.

And without his wandering hands…well, someone has to take that role. One thing leads to another, and it becomes a thing.

You need time for some personal relaxation, but with a little extra assistance? Arms and legs go in the box and you have your fun clown toy to play with how you want. To use how you want.

And when Buggy tentatively offered on his own for the first time? Well, wasn't that fun.. You made sure he had a damn good time. You tucked him tight between the pillows on the bed, perfectly propped up for everything you had planned.

The messy make-out sesh that he was whining through by the end. Biting your lips and blubbering for more - please! How you slowly undressed him. Well, exposing what you can. Tugging at his shirt collar while you kiss his neck and nibble his collarbone. Waiting until you see his nipples poking through the fabric. Pushing the hem of the shirt up, exposing his stomach and the blue hair trailing down… Undoing Buggy's pants while he's thrashing in place is fun. He can't move much because of the pillows, so it's more like awkward air humping.

Of course, once his dick is out, you ease back and undress yourself. Slowly. Buggy's erection is like a metronome, pulsing with each heartbeat.

This is when Buggy learns what pillows must feel like when they're being used for alternative purposes. If your hands aren't resting on his chest, your fingers are digging into his shoulders and practically moving his body underneath yours.

His world is literally shaking and he loves it. So much that he cums much faster than he wished. His back is arched, his limbs are thumping around in the box, and he is begging, pleading, crying for you not to stop. Keep going. Keep using him. Please, please.

Buggy was a different man in that moment. Someone new. Something was unlocked. He didn't really come to until you were nudging one of his arms back into place, trying to find the spot where it would reconnect like it should.

It works. For a second. The arm pops back off and Buggy's not sure if it's because he's so damn exhausted, or if he wants to go for another round. (He's tired. Really. He falls asleep moments later, snoring like a chainsaw. Limbs everywhere, like he was attacked by a chainsaw.)

Also, anon, I had to dig up this mini-Buggy thing that I wrote ages ago. Who know this guy would come back around lmao.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Fall into the sky

Written for @astrangersummer, week 5 (shhhh, we're not talking about how this is super fucking late, it's fine!)

Prompt: Constellations

Words: 1,527 (also on AO3)

Rated: T

Relationship: Steve/Eddie

Tags: Magic AU; Thief Eddie; Guard Steve; Forbidden love; Jailbreak

Notes: Part of my Phantom Thief mini series (Previous part | Part 1)

The world is sound. The crackle of fire and the rush of wind and the thunder of crumbling stone. 

The world is color. The brilliant kaleidoscope of the sunset, stars emerging from the purple and pink backdrop of the sky. 

The world is touch. Hands in his hair and fingers on his face and warm breath tickling his skin as he is scooped into a pair of trembling arms. 

It crashes into Steve’s senses all at once, overwhelming and terrifying after the eternal white and the never-ending silence of his prison. It's too much. It's too beautiful. It can’t be real.

He's going insane.

He's been waiting to go insane for so long. 

Because if insanity is sound and color and touch and a name on his lips that he thought he'd never hear again, if this is all in his head, he never wants to leave. 

“Yes, sweetheart, it's me,” The vision murmurs, cradling his face in both hands. The gesture is comforting and soothing, and Steve realizes he's been babbling the name on repeat, an endless loop of Eddie Eddie Eddie. “I'm sorry it took so long, but I'm getting you outta here.” 

Steve laughs, high-pitched and hysterical. 

“You're-” he starts to say. His voice cracks. When he licks his lips, they taste like saltwater. “You're not really here. I've lost my mind, I'm imagining things.” 

“Don't think you are,” Eddie hums. He's covered in soot and bleeding from a hundred tiny cuts, but his smile is bright and brilliant as always. “Wouldn’t be able to do this if I wasn't real, would I?” 

His lips taste like ashes and magic. The ground shakes underneath them, and something crashes. Steve thinks that if the world broke apart around them right now, he'd happily stay in this kiss forever. 

“Don’t,” he pleads when Eddie pulls away. “Don't stop.” 

Eddie smiles, full of that grim determination that makes Steve’s stomach flutter. 

“I won't,” he says, and the constellations in the sky glint in those impossibly dark eyes of his. Another crash pierces the air, so loud that Steve can feel it in his bones. “I swear it, honey. I'll get you back down and to safety, where they can't ever find us. And then I'll never stop kissing you, for as long as we both live.” 

*

The world below the floating island is basked in dusk. Steve can see the shadows of clouds moving over the land, the sparkling bands of rivers weaving between forests and hills and cities. The ocean and the curve of the earth, far in the distance. He didn't see it when they brought him here. The view was obstructed by the giant tornado that surrounded this place, ready to tear everyone who dared approach it to shreds. 

There's no tornado now. 

Just like there are no griffins guarding the arched entryway of the fortress, no manticores prowling at the jagged edge of the island. 

“What did you do?” Steve breathes as they skid to a halt, inches from the abyss. Behind them, the pillars of the entryway crumble and collapse. “How did you-” 

“You know how they stay in power?” Eddie asks. He's ducked behind another pillar to retrieve a bundle of fabric and string, hidden out of sight. “Your family and their friends?” 

Steve blinks, floundering and disoriented by the question and the barrage of noise and colors. Eddie straightens up, strapping what looks like a giant backpack decked in wires and ropes to his back. 

“Magic,” he declares, throwing his arms out in an all-encompassing gesture. “This place, their splendid city, their fucking underwater prison, they all run on magic. Beautiful, isn't it? If it weren't for one tiny problem.” 

He pauses dramatically, like he's waiting for Steve to catch on. When he fails to do so, he throws back his head and cackles, dark curls whipping around him in a chaotic tangle.

“There’s not enough natural magic in the world to keep it all going. So what did they do, like the greedy little morons they are? They amplified it!” 

He laughs again, like it’s the best fucking joke in the entire world, grabbing Steve by the shoulders and pulling him in for a big, noisy smack on the mouth.

“Amulets and talismans and trinkets, Stevie! Dozens of them, all in the hands of the high and mighty, used to magnify their power. But take them away, and it all goes poof!” 

He throws his hands up in the air, miming an explosion, just in time for another thunderous boom to shake the island. The ground tilts, just a bit. 

“Do you know where they kept the most powerful one?” Eddie asks. This time, he doesn't wait for a reply. “Right here, Stevie. What better place than the big-ass, impenetrable, fucking sky vault to keep their biggest treasure, huh? They didn't think anyone would ever be insane enough to try and breach it. And you know what? I wouldn't have. They could've kept it, for all I fucking care, but they do not-” 

The ground trembles again, little fissures erupting from the rock under their feet like spiderwebs. Eddie pauses and swallows, and his eyes are like fire in the dusk.  

“They do not get to keep you.” 

His voice is pure, unbridled rage. Steve knows the feeling all too well. The powerless rage of knowing exactly where they have taken the man you love, and having to be patient. Having to wait for days and weeks and months until your plan finally falls into place, knowing all the while that every hour, every second in that wretched place is too much. The all-consuming want to tear through all the walls, all the chains, all the barriers they’ve put in place to keep you apart, to destroy all that might ever stand in your way again. 

Understanding comes slowly, but when it does, it punches the breath from his lungs with a hoarse wheeze. He is dizzy and his stomach swoops, but he isn't sure if it is from what he just realized or from the island breaking apart under their feet. 

“You destroyed it,” he whispers. “Eddie, you- … what did you do?” 

Eddie doesn’t answer. Instead, he pulls Steve closer, slipping a leather-and-rope harness over his shoulders to tether them both together. 

“This little baby is all mechanics,” he says, not looking up from his task. His face is nothing but grim concentration as he makes sure every buckle and every rope sits correctly. “I'd have been here sooner, but it took a while to put this together and make sure it would actually work, so-” 

“What about your magic?” Steve blurts. 

“Don't worry, it'll come back once the natural equilibrium is restored.” Eddie shrugs, walking them both to the ledge. “Some of it at least. I think.”

Steve gapes at him. Eddie looks up from where he's been securing the last of the straps, sees his dumbstruck face and smiles. 

“Stevie,” he says. He's too beautiful to be real. Beautiful and wild and untamed like the wind ripping at their clothes, like the sky stretching all around them. If they jumped now, they'd fall straight into its stars and constellations and never ever touch ground again. “It doesn't matter. There's no treasure in the world I wouldn't give up for you.” 

Steve opens his mouth to argue, but another tremor interrupts him. Large chunks of rock come loose from below their feet, tumbling into the depths. 

“Do you trust me?” Eddie asks. Steve doesn’t even think about it. It's like asking if water is wet. Eddie sees him nod and beams, delighted and a little smug. “Then let's get outta here.” 

He wraps an arm around Steve’s waist, claiming his lips again. And then, without breaking the kiss, he steps over the ledge and they plummet. 

The wind rips Steve’s scream straight from his mouth. His guts twist and his limbs go light with terror, but Eddie laughs. He yanks on one of the ropes, and something unfurls from his backpack in a ripple of cloth and wire. It snaps open somewhere over their heads, and Steve’s stomach lurches, and then, suddenly, they're no longer falling. 

They're gliding. 

Above them stretches what looks like a giant sail, stitched together from dozens and dozens colorful scraps of fabric. It carries them like a bird's wings, taking them away from the crumpling island, away from walls and chains and barriers, away from all that kept them apart. 

Eddie whoops into the night sky, loud and unrestrained. It takes Steve a second or two to recognize the voice that joins in as his own. His stomach is still light, like it's filled with a million beating wings, but he realizes that it's not from vertigo.

It's happiness. 

The sheer, overwhelming exhilaration of knowing Eddie made it, that they're both free and together and never parting again. Of knowing this is real. 

They soar through the clouds, with the constellations close enough to touch, the earth spanning far below them like something from a dream. And if they never touch ground again? Steve thinks he wouldn’t mind one tiny bit. 

Next part

Tag list:

@sourw0lfs @bananahoneycomb @firefly-party @whoneedscanon @steddie-island

@sidekick-hero @theheadlessphilosopher @extra-transitional @penny00dreadful @medusapelagia

@mugloversonly @0happyeverafter0 @stevesbipanic @acingthecounts @sweetheartprincess28

@starryeyedjanai @sailing-through-hawkins @original-cypher @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important