#bee drabbles

[suguwu]

the new moon is a dark eye in the sky. around it, the stars shine unfettered. you tilt your head to watch them glitter; they disappear when the porch light flickers on.

sae steps out onto the porch a moment later.

"the light was off for a reason," you say.

"you get too melancholy when you stargaze," he says flatly.

you let out a little breath. you hadn't realized he remembered that.

"so?"

he shrugs.

"is she asleep?"

"yeah."

"how many stories did it take?"

"less than yesterday."

you glance at sae. he's pretty even under the harsh florescence of the porch light; it plays over his face like a lover.

"why did you come out?" you ask.

"i'm leaving."

"oh."

he raises a brow.

"it's late," you say. your voice wavers, just a hint, a leaf trembling in the breeze. "you should stay."

"you said you didn't want me staying over."

"i know," you say. "just for tonight, though."

sae watches you for a moment. in the dim of the night, his teal eyes are darkened to the color of the winter sea, a deep, bleak blue. you shift under his gaze; it's an autopsy cut.

"no," he says. "i want more than just tonight."

"sae—"

"i want to be here," he says.

you pull your lower lip between your teeth, worrying at the flesh. sae tracks the movement, his eyes darkening even more.

"i'm not ready," you say.

he tilts his head. "yes," he says. "you are."

"i'm not."

"the school called me."

you blink, thrown by the non-sequitur. "okay?"

"they were confirming my number for her emergency contact."

your cheeks go hot. "i didn't realize they'd do that."

"you're ready," he says. "you're just scared of the fact that you're ready."

"don't say it like you know it for a fact, sae. you're not me."

he steps closer. the scent of him drifts around you, strengthened by the humid summer air. you breathe it in.

"let me in," he says, an echo of the past. he slips a hand to your jaw and makes you look at him. his eyes are blazing, st. elmo's fire.

"sae—"

he leans in; his breath puffs against your lips. you don't pull away.

he kisses you. his hand slips to the back of your neck; he uses it to cradle you closer. it's possessive. it makes a shiver slip down your spine, winter come early.

when you part, you smack him on the chest.

"ow," he says, deadpan.

"you can't kiss me compliant," you tell him.

he shrugs, unrepentant.

"tonight and tomorrow," you say, the words pulled from somewhere deep inside you. "and then we'll see."

he sighs. "fine," he says. "but i'll convince you."

you already know he will.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

shoto todoroki is fucking shameless. and surprisingly clingy.

he’d done a good job becoming a little more social little by little. he’s still a little wonky and awkward during the few times he tries to make conversation, but he tries and that’s the good part. you’re proud of him.

you’ve known shoto since you were kids, his closest friend, you’d seen him through it all and you’re so grateful that he’s found friends he feels comfortable and happy with, though he always reassures you that you’re dearest to him, which always makes you a little too giddy and flustered for somebody who’s supposed to be his closest friend and nothing more.

you’re in the cafeteria chatting with your mutual friends, shoto had told you to go off without him since he needed to go the bathroom and you found yourself sitting next to midoriya when he’d scooched in next to you, happy to see there was still a spot for him at the table. you liked midoriya a lot, he was sweet, cute and most importantly he made shoto come out of his shell in a way that you regrettably never could, plus the way he flails around when he gets embarrassed is pretty funny.

(you did notice ochaco’s face going completely blank for a few seconds, but you didn’t think much about it.)

after a few minutes of giggling and chatting shoto shows up, and something is immediately wrong with the way his natural straight face goes absolutely dead in the span of three seconds. it’s subtle, but you know him and it’s there. there also seems to be a chill in the room now.

he’s at your side of the table in three seconds, but he doesn’t register your smile in greeting as his cold gaze is glued to the green haired boy next to you.

“midoriya,” and his voice even sounds a little deeper, colder as he speaks like he somehow managed to use his right side on his mouth.

“that’s my seat.” he states calmly.

“oh ! my bad, todoroki !” izuku splutters an apology, but shoto’s eyes do not waver, staying fixed on the boy until he grabs his tray and makes a move to stand “i didn’t realize this was your spot, sorry !”

you feel a little bad at how intensely he’s apologizing, but you’re still shell shocked about that look. shoto seems unfazed though, his expression morphs slightly when izuku goes to squeeze in next to iida.

“i always sit next to yn.”

it’s so stupid. really, it is. how fast that makes your heart beat. because shoto does always sit next to you, he always has and he still always does when you come over to his house. but it’s the fact that he didn’t say he always sits here, in his unassigned assigned seat.

he said he always sits next to you. and your mind and heart races.

you don’t get much time to think because immediately he’s next to you, sighing before sitting as close to you as he can. he looks over to you and you look back, still a little startle but his features are soft again when he looks at you. he drops his utensils to thread his fingers with yours under the table.

“ did you wash your hands, mister ?” you tease, but you squeeze his hand when he squeezes yours. he frowns but it’s not the one from before. it almost looks like a pout and you snort.

“yes, i did.” he snips, you giggle and his eyes soften. even as you assure him you were just kidding he doesn’t mind, he couldn’t be mad at you.

you offer him a bite of your lunch as truce and he leans forward and plops a piece in his mouth from your chopsticks, then offers you a bit of his precious soba noodles and even holds a hand below them so they don’t spill because he insists on feeding you himself.

your friends pretend they don’t see the lowkey romantic exchange, but with the way shoto keeps insisting to have you eat his food and the soft barely there smile when you crack a joke that manages to break through his icey demeanor, they can start to figure out why he wanted to sit next to you so bad.

[bumblebee-otch]

.the sun.

The sun is warm on my skin, and I'm surrounded by flora and friendship.

The breeze is nice, and Compassion brought flowers, treats, and wine for our little get together.

She and I kick off our shoes to talk about men and art, and we watch our friends bicker with each other about who's taking up more space on their side of the picnic blanket.

My skirt is splayed across my corner of the soft fabric as I laugh along with her, and I feel like a young girl again, only much happier.

The music is playing loudly from the stage, and it’s not what we had expected by any means when we'd booked these tickets.

Music in the Gardens, the post had said. The name was backed by a string quartet, but not a single one had played for the first hour we'd been here.

"They're not very good," Loyalty sighs over to Compassion and I after watching the young band for a while. We snicker as Integrity lies dramatically across Loyalty's lap.

"Well," Integrity flinches and laughs as Loyalty flicks him on the forehead, "They're not all that bad for high school students."

Compassion smiles at them as they argue, and she snaps a photo of the two together as she asks me, "What do you think, Empathy?"

I watch as she snaps a couple more pictures and let the breeze and the wine and the moment wash over me, "I don't mind it all that much."

The music can’t be so bad, I muse to myself, I mean, it brought us here together, after all.

The sun is warm on my skin, and I'm grateful to be surrounded by flora and friendship.

[hello-sweetheart]

Steddie fae!au

Fae!Steve who is changling. Who used to be a little more malicious with his tricks as a young teen, but now is just a bit mischievous as most. Harmless, really. But he has a questionable hobby…

Some people collect action figures, comic book, ties, but Steve? He collects names, okay! He doesn’t do anything with them, promise, but he likes to collect them. And his job as a barista ensures that he has an impressive roster of names.

“Hi, welcome to Upside Down Coffee. May I have your name?

“Estelle.”

Steve, eyes gleaming with excitement, “Ooh, that’s a beautiful name. I hadn’t had the pleasure to meet someone with that name until now.” And the lady blushes at his flirting, leaving a few bucks in his jar.

And then meets Eddie who refuses to give him his name. He doesn’t know if it’s deliberate or not. And he never misses the chance to flirt with him, mistaking his flushed cheeks from being flustered, but really it’s frustration.

“Hi, welcome! May I have your name?”

“You can put me down as Eddie, sweetheart.”

Steve: >:(

“Hi! May I have your name?”

“Just Eddie will do.” He winks.

Steve: >:(

“Hi, welcome back! May I have your name?”

“Come on, bright eyes, dont you remember me?” Eddie pouts.

“Well,” he bats his eyelashes, “I was hoping you’d give me your real first name.”

“God no, it’s atrocious. Trust me, Princess, I’ll spare you.”

Steve: >:(

Steve doesn’t know this but Eddie is half fae. He knows what Steve is trying to do, and finds it hilarious to give him the run around. Besides, he’s so cute when he furiously writes down ‘Eddie’ on his cup with that little frown creasing his brow.

[superbat-love]

Dick: Bruce, what does it mean when someone’s heart rate increases around another person?

Bruce: Alright, I expected this question to be brought up eventually. It’s a physiological response mediated by both biological and biochemical processes when one experiences moments of arous-

Dick: And whenever you see this person, they just seem to light up the room?

Bruce: I can’t do this. Clark, you have a go at answering his question.

Clark: Well Dick, when a bat and a bee meet, though of different species, the bee’s heart starts to sing. And so, it shines as bright as the sun and feel the urge to sting…

[starrystevie]

"you're gonna make me fall in love with you, aren't you?"

eddie's room is quiet except for the ambient noise the trailer makes and the deep, sighing breaths steve is making against his chest. it's the same breaths he makes when he's sleeping, the ones that sound like once he's unconscious, he can actually let go and take in a full breath without all of his daily anxieties holding him back.

eddie assumes he's asleep now so he mutters out the secret he's been holding in for too long. eddie assumes incorrectly because steve's snuffling against his chest to resettle his ear over eddie's heart.

"would that be such a bad thing?"

steve's fingers drag slowly across his stomach before wrapping around the side of his bare waist, pulling like he could somehow get eddie even closer than he already is. he has half a mind to push steve off his chest so he can't hear how wildly the move makes his heart flutter.

eddie sighs, runs his fingertips over steve's freckled shoulder like an apology. like a promise. "i'm not sure yet."

they aren't just friends, they aren't dating but they're- they're something. something that's made up of too hard kisses and wandering hands and gazes that catch before darting away with dopey grins. they're a forest fire that can't burn out, can't be controlled until it's all scorched earth in its wake. they're a rainstorm, soothing and gentle, coaxing life back into the forest floor like it deserves a fresh start.

eddie's afraid but when is he ever not? eddie's confused but that's not exactly a first either. eddie's falling for steve and it has his brain tied up in knots as he tries to make sense of it all. steve wraps a leg over his while his fingers drum against his side. he has to be able to hear how everything he does, everything he is, affects eddie because he's leaning up to press a shock of a kiss over his heart. like the electricity from that alone will shock eddie's heart back into rhythm.

"well, let me know when you make up your mind about falling," steve whispers sleepily, his lips dancing over eddie's sensitive skin leaving goosebumps and lightning in its wake, "because i'm already down here waiting."

eddie's heart thuds painfully, steve covers it with a kiss once more.

he closes his eyes and feels, takes in the sharp bite of steve's cologne, matches his breathes to steve's, runs his foot over his bare calf to get them even closer. he doesn't have to think about it for too much longer because he already knows that he'll follow steve anywhere, even if that means tumbling and falling after him.

[lorelune]

regency au jing yuan how you are haunting me.

(continued here!)

a retired general who at the ripe age of thirty five has never taken a wife. never showed any interest in procuring a spouse nor does he entertain any attempts by the mamas of the ton to throw their eligible children at him. he is a polite scoundrel, kind-hearted in a way that makes those with half a mind question how someone with his demeanor could ever be the famed general who's strategies downed Shuhu during the Abundance Upheaval. he doesn't seem to care for his legacy, as much as he has cultivated one. he doesn't mind gossip, but doesn't entertain it much either.

you only meet him due to fortunate circumstances.

lord Luocha, a successful travelling merchant, pledged patronage to you sometime ago. he keeps you in a little cottage on the grounds of his manor where you're allowed to mostly do as you please as long as there's a new painting hung on the lord's wall every few months or so. the lord likes when you play too. he brings back new instruments for you to try, though he never expects mastery. he has an air of mystery to him that, despite all of the time you spend near him, keeps you from understanding him fully. you aren't one to pry about it either.

lord luocha invites jing yuan over to partake in fancy spirits from a country and city you can't ever hope to visit, let alone find on a map. you bring lord luocha your newest work-- (a meticulously completed oil painting. something more abstract, suited to the odd lonely and isolation you feel in your little, cozy cottage, despite all of the comforts you are afforded)-- and happen upon the pair.

lord luocha examines your newest work with pride, and shortly after introduces you. 'his patron' he calls you, but offers jing yuan no title. you--

(do not have one. it was stripped from you a long time ago. you think being an artist suits you better, anyways.)

jing yuan offers you his name, though you already know it. you recognize him based on the prattling of the girls and boys at the market. they swoon over his stature, fawn over his good deeds, and make note of his identifiable red hair ribbon. he has the same soft, sun-colored eyes that you had heard the eligible young of the ton giggle about.

you bow to him politely.

you have no reason to linger, but luocha calls you to anyways. perhaps he is lonely. perhaps you want him to be lonely, so it gives you a reason to stick closer to his side in the rare moments he is home for more than a day or two. the proximity is shared with jing yuan, who regards you with keen eyes and a lazy smile. the attention upon you feels weighted, important, like you're something special.

you savor it, however fleeting.

perhaps, however, you misunderstood jing yuan. or lord luocha's intentions.

because as jing yuan rises to take his leave and you bow once more, he catches your hand, brings it to his lips, and presses a kiss into the soft skin. you're sure you smell of linseed and yarrow oil. he lingers there for a moment before meeting your gaze. there's a light of mischief in them that sends your heart fluttering. your breath catches.

when jing yuan is out of the manor, lord luocha pats your shoulder gently, "quite the man, isn't he?"

"i suppose... he is."

"you may speak freely."

"i am," you mince, and shake your head. you must be careful, entertaining such fanciful thoughts. "he is... kind."

"and handsome."

"lord luocha," you barely keep yourself from whining. "please, do not tease me. or the poor man. from what i hear, he has enough to deal with."

"the mamas do chase after him like foxes to a hen," lord luocha chuckles and studies your painting once more with a curious tilt of his head. "he'll ask to see you again, i'm certain."

"and why do you say that?"

"general jing yuan has never taken the hand of a potential suitor."

your heart feels heavy and warm in your chest, burning. "my lord, you cannot possibly think that this single action indicates that the general will... call upon me? that is highly unorthodox and i don't believe that's... quite allowed."

"jing yuan has never cared for the dances of decorum." lord luocha guides you into your gardens. the peonies are in bloom, full and lush in the humidity of late spring. "and, for the record, i don't believe he'll simply call upon you. court, properly, certainly."

"you're bluffing."

"what reason do i have to lie?"

"to tease me, as you so enjoy doing," you huff.

lord luocha simply hums and pauses near a bush of lilacs. they're fragrant, at the peak of their season. the scent rolls over you.

"if i truly intended to tease you, i simply would abstain from telling you of jing yuan's interest and allow you to be terribly surprised when he arrives and formally asks for you and your time. consider this a warning. i'll walk you to the modiste tomorrow, hm?"

you want to squawk at him. your linen dresses and tunics are fine (albeit smeared and stained with paints and oils over the years. you rarely bother replacing them.)

you want to protest and pry more, but lord luocha strikes you silent when he breaks off a cluster of lilac and tucks it behind your ear. he leaves you with your thoughts, however tortuous. and, perhaps horribly, you find yourself believing him. perhaps the warm-eyed general really was charmed. perhaps, your dresses needed replacing and you should contact your perfumer friend for a fresh vial or two.

perhaps perhaps perhaps, you can still feel where his lips lingered on your skin, like a brand. you never thought you could ache for burning, but in the gardens, you find yourself clutching your hand to your chest, craving the lick of the his sun's heat once more.

[shxtodxroki]

𝙾𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢

Send me a character's name (of the fandoms I write for) and a word/phrase and I'll write you a drabble :]

Tap, tap, tap.

Your knocks are quiet, soft with the effort of not waking the others in the house as a sappy grin plays on your lips. The hallways are almost eerily silent at this time of night, and the only sound that rings through the air at this time is the soft grumbling coming from Lucifer’s office down the hall. Though your knocks breathe a sudden spark of energy into the room in front of you now as well, as rustling sounds grow louder and you’re able to briefly catch the sound of something (or someone) tumbling to the floor in the occupant’s haste to open the door. Even without being able to see the commotion you let out a small giggle at the thought, knowing the man in question must know it’s you who’s come to see him this late at night after the way he left off your conversation over text only moments ago.

“Hmph. Thought I told ya I was going to bed.” Mammon grumbles as the door clicks open and reveals his disheveled form behind it, clearly flustered as he stands in his room, clad in only his loose-fitting pajama pants. Despite his standoffish ruse and his flustered expression, though, he leaves the door open for you to join him in his room as you make your way over to him with a knowing grin.

“Well, you ran away before I could respond to what you said.” You retort as you close the door behind you, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning into him as you embrace the musky scent of his cologne. Your eyes easily flutter closed as you press your head against his skin and feel his arms wrap around you on instinct. “I had something I wanted to say to you too, you know.”

The easily flustered demon quickly begins to sputter in response to your words, floundering for a moment before settling as his arms rest around your waist with a comforting warmth. 

“I love you too, Mammon.” You lean in further to whisper in his ear in response to his earlier message, a smirk unfurling across your face as you can feel the heat emanating from his cheeks in response to your flirtations.

“Uh yeah, obviously. Ya didn’t need to come all the way here to tell me that.” He grumbles out in response, though he’s unable to hide how flustered and giddy he feels at your words despite what he says. You can feel how quickly his heart beats beneath his skin as your head leans against his bare chest, and when you tilt your head towards his and cup his cheek in your hand, you can feel the way his skin burns with a passionate fire as he stares back at you in eager anticipation of what he knows you’re about to do.

And despite his nonchalant act, the second your lips begin moving towards his he’s quick to meet you halfway, cradling the back of your head in his large hand as his lips tangle gently with yours. The kiss is short and sweet, little more than a peck, but you both pull away with obvious lovestruck grins across your faces, despite Mammon’s brief attempt to appear unaffected by the affection.

"…..Alright, alright. If you’re gonna come all the way here, ya may as well spend the night. Come on, let’s get to bed.” He mutters after standing awestruck for a moment following the kiss, and you’re quick to reach down and lace your fingers with his as you allow your stubborn boyfriend to drag you to bed. His attitude and his words do little to mask his affectionate nature as he clings to you all night long, but you can’t bring yourself to tease him for it, not when you’d rather focus on simply enjoying the small, adorable moments like this you get to share with your childish lover. These are the moments you wouldn’t trade for the world, and as his strong arms encase you in their hold from behind and his soft snoring echoes in your ear, all you can do is smile as you allow his love to engulf you.

A/N: Hey guys, it’s been a while since I’ve gotten any writing out but I’ve had this one sitting in my drafts for a while so I finally decided to edit and post it :) I just got this idea a while ago while reading the text above in the game, but I’m also doing a bit of a drabble game for all the fandoms I write for rn which I’ve linked above, so please feel free to check that out! I’m having a pretty rough week right now, so I may write slower than usual, but still feel free to send in any requests you have and I’ll do my best to get to them as soon as I can :)

If you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, you can fill out this form here! Thank you for your support <3

[church-of-smut]

Imagine going over to his house late.

Not proofread

It’s been a bad day and you just need to vent. He starts off listening intently, and he really tries to focus, but those pretty tears in your eyes and pretty little pouty lips always get the best of him. He just wants to kiss away the frown, that’s all, but you make such pretty sounds when his hand finds your hips. Just a little more would be okay, wouldn’t it? He’s just trying to help.

And that’s what he tells you as your knees are folded to your chest in a mean mating press as he pants and whines out weak apologies.* “M’sorry mommy- you feel s’good. Jus’ wanted you to feel good mommy. M’trying to help.” Those pretty little tears prick the edges of your vision, but this time it’s because of the way you can feel him in your lungs when he bottoms out again and again. You know you’re in for a long night of helping now.

Yuuta, Armin, Yuji, CHOSO, Hawks, IZUKU, +Your favs 🫡

[freedomfireflies]

pussy plug pt. 2 today?? 👀

Harry is angry with you.

Even without the explicit words, you can tell by the shift in his expression that you’ve displeased him. That he’s refraining from dragging you out of this restaurant and into the hallway so he can have a word.

You don't mean to, really. But what does he expect after edging you for hours and then plugging you full of his cum? Forcing you to sit through this prolonged evening with nothing more than some tantalizing memories and promises of release to hold you over?

“Bee,” comes the low warning, discreetly whispered into your ear as you both await the arrival of your parents. “Don’t you fucking dare—”

“Can’t help it,” you pant quietly, hand on his thigh as you squeeze for dear life. “You keep turning it up—”

“And I also keep telling you to hold it,” he hisses, scooting closer as if to hide you from the rest of the restaurant. “Are you gonna disobey me, baby girl? Are you gonna make me put you over my knee in front of everybody in this goddamn room?”

You squirm a bit harder in your seat, lashes fluttering quickly as you wrestle against your orgasm. “Har, please—”

“No.” His rejection is resolute, his voice thick with disappointment. “You are not to cum until I say so.” 

You suck in a sharp gasp as a wave of pleasure explodes between your thighs, the tip of the plug lightly grazing the bottom of your chair. “H, I can’t…I can’t hold it, I’m sorry—”

“You will,” he reminds you, fingers curling around the edge of your seat as if to warn you. “You fucking will, Bee, or I’ll spank you right here in front of your parents. Is that what you want? Want your dad to see you get punished by your daddy?”

You’d slap him if this were any other time, but right now, you devote your energy to keeping the orgasm at bay. Nearly sweating from the strain. “Harry—”

“No,” he repeats, a bit icier than before as his eyes flick toward something just behind you. “Promised you’d be my good girl. So I want you to be good and fucking take it. Yeah? Fucking take it.”

With that, he’s standing from his chair, a wide smile on his face as you wilt by the table.

“Maggie, Richard, so nice to see you,” he calls loudly, arm outstretching to welcome your parents closer, and that’s when it hits you.

Because suddenly, the vibrations from the plug are abruptly changing in rhythm, and it’s exactly what you’d needed to tip you over. You try to fight it, you really do, but it washes over you like a fucking wave until you’re choking on a gasp and shivering in your seat.

Nobody else seems to notice, with Harry quickly stepping in front of your body to block you from any prying eyes.

But you’re humiliated, nonetheless, and it’s all you can do to keep from whimpering right then and there.

After a bit of small talk, your parents sweep around the table to take their place on the other side. Exchanging their greetings with you as you finally begin to find your footing again.

“Oh, honey, are you getting sick?” your mother coos, hand on her cheek in worry. “You look a little warm.”

“I’m…no, I’m all right,” you manage to stammer, ignoring Harry’s smug smile from beside you. “It’s just hot in here. How was your drive?”

“Absolutely dreadful,” she sighs. “The traffic was a nightmare, we didn’t move for at least an hour, I mean…I don’t know how you two put up with it every day.”

And thus begins the lively reenactment of their journey, with your father nodding along dutifully while you and Harry attempt to listen.

And you’re happy for the distraction because at least it means you’re offered a moment of reprieve. Even though you know Harry is currently stewing from beside you. Unable to reprimand you the way he’s so apt to do.

However, your momentary escape from his wrath is brought to a sudden halt when your parents declare they’d like to wash up. Standing from the table and disappearing toward the bathroom, thus leaving the two of you to…chat.

“Well, well, well,” is the first thing he murmurs once you’re alone. “Obeyed me for all of…what? Twenty seconds?”

Swallowing thickly, you glance over. “It’s not my fault. You kept turning it up—”

“Because you kept cumming without my permission,” he retorts, nodding his chin toward your thighs. “And after I was kind enough to keep you nice and full.”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you lean a bit closer and whisper, “I’m sorry, okay? I really tried. Really, really. But it just…it was too much. I won’t do it again, I swear—”

“Oh, you will,” he interrupts again, forcing you to blink at him. “No, yeah. If you wanna act like a brat and cum whenever you feel like it, then I’ll let you cum. Let you cum as many fucking times as you want.”

The switch in tactics nearly makes your head spin, and you look over his expression curiously. “Okay…?”

“In fact, I’d like you to cum at least two more times while we’re at this table,” he tells you, and instantly, your heart drops. “Think you can do that, baby girl?”

“Har…Harry, you aren’t…you can’t be serious—”

“I think you can,” he decides for you, ignoring your outrage. “And I think you will. Think you’ll cum as many times as I’d like. Won’t you?”

And you want to respond – want to scream at him for this sadistic little game – but your parents are sliding back up before you get the chance. Forcing you to do nothing but gawk at him.

Pleased, he leans back over, and hums, “Starting right fucking now.”

With that, he hits a button on his phone, and brings the vibrating pussy plug back to life. Instantly shoving you up that peak of pleasure as your poor, overstimulated cunt is toyed with yet again.

You cough to hide a gasp, and you’re lucky that your parents are otherwise distracted by their menus to notice.

But Harry notices.

He always notices.

As the evening progresses, you attempt to keep your thighs pressed tightly together. Attempt to avoid any extra stimulation or accidental grazing to the plug. But Harry is on a mission, and his insistence on making you orgasm is relentless.

“Bee,” he warns quietly as your parents begin to relay their order to the waiter, “none of that. I want you to keep your legs spread, yeah? So I can have a feel. Make sure you’re doing what I asked.”

You bite back a glare – while also biting at your lip – and bring your eyes to his. “Har…I can’t, really. Please…please—”

“Shh,” he whispers, scooting closer to press a seemingly harmless kiss to your cheek. “Yes you can. And I don’t want any complaining. You asked for this, didn’t you? By disobeying? You asked to be punished.”

“No,” you argue quietly, head shaking. “No, I promise. I tried. I really tried—”

“I know,” he finally concedes with a sympathetic coo, running his hand over your back soothingly. “I know, baby girl, but you didn’t try hard enough. I know you can do better, yeah? So I’m gonna make you do better. And this is how I do that.”

Whimpering softly, you plead with him through a frown, desperately needing his mercy more than ever.

However, he doesn’t seem to notice, his hand merely moving down to your lap as his fingers curl around your thigh firmly. “What did I say, hm? Want them open, Bee.”

You force your expression to remain stoic and unbothered as Harry’s hand continues to tug your leg closer to him. Creating the perfect space for access while he shoots a grin toward your parents from across the table. And keeping his little game a secret.

Leaning into his shoulder, you turn your face and try again. “Harry, please—”

However, his hand simply squeezes the top of your thigh from beneath your dress, and you choke on a whine as you pretend not to notice. “All you had to do was behave, baby girl. All you had to do was sit here, nice and full of my cum, until I could take care of it for you. So I could take that pretty little plug out and have a taste of us.”

Your lashes flutter, and it’s getting harder to pretend as though the two of you are engaging in nothing more than innocent conversation.

“But you just had to cum. Just had to disobey me. And now…” His thumb suddenly finds the tip of the plug and he grazes it softly before shooting you a smirk. “…I’m gonna make you sit here at this table. All goddamn night while cum as many times as I see fit.”

Reeling, you shoot him a piteous look for leniency, to which he merely grins.

“And you?” He presses his finger against the toy – hard. “You’re you’re gonna fucking take it.”

Previous Part:

~ Harry and Bee Use A Pussy Plug*

- Full Teach Me Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @onlystylesss28 @winterrays @jessitpwk @aslugforharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @lillefroe @avasversion @littlelunamoon @harrysgf01 @lexiecamposva @spinningoutwaiting4ya @hs-tpwkrry @vyctorya @b-reads-things @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @xellybellyx @harrysxcarolina @reneemunson @juliatpwk @wolfmoonmusic @buckyssbestgirl @wandasbae616 @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @chubby-cheek-calum @itsmytimetoodream @finelinesss

[suguwu]

"who are those for?" you ask, nodding towards the flowers cradled in nanami's arms. the bouquet is artfully wrapped, looped with ribbon to keep the stems from spilling out, each bloom nodding under its own lush weight.

he blinks, barely visible behind his glasses.

"you," he says.

you laugh.

nanami doesn't.

your laughter fades away, a star beneath the morning sun. "wait," you say, putting down your book. "really?"

he nods stiffly.

"i just didn't think you were the type," you say.

"i'm not."

"but—"

"but for you," nanami says mildly, "i can be."

[bumblebee-otch]

.empathy & friends.

-the beginning-

Hello.

I'm sure you're wondering who I am, and why you should care. In truth, I don't have an answer for why you should care... but I can tell you who I am.

My name is Empathy. They used to call me Insecurity, a long time ago.

Back when I spent time around characteristics that weren't as lovely as the ones I'm surrounded by now. Characters like Greed, or Lust, or Pride. Privilege, Ignorance, Hate, Anger, Malice, Fear, and Disrespect.

Turns out, the characters you surround yourself with really do affect your own identity. I'm grateful to have changed, both in company and in identity.

My rebirth into Empathy was entirely thanks to my friends.

Trust, who I met when we were both drowning in darker times. She pulled me out of one of the worst mental and emotional ruts I'd ever experienced. She was Anger, then, and I was still Insecurity.

Loyalty, who managed to transform my multi-faceted anxiety into confidence. She showed me the strength that I didn't even know I had within myself.

Integrity, who constantly reassured me that I was not alone, and that I had more talent to offer than I'd dared to admit to myself. He allowed me to shed my worries when it came to friendship security, and he always made me feel like I was seen, even when I felt silly.

Compassion, who I clicked with immediately upon meeting her. She understands me and my psyche on a fundamental level, because she was once Insecurity, too.

Faith, who taught me that being scorned by those in the past should not shake my beliefs. She brought a light into my life that I'd not known that I needed, and I will thank her for that for the rest of my days.

Stability, who's been with me longer than anyone else. She was the first genuine friend that I'd ever had, back when Insecurity was the only identity I thought I'd ever wear. Her kindness was the one thing that gave me the hope that ultimately kept me alive.

I would not be here, would not be Empathy, if it were not for them.

They may not realize just how much I love them or how grateful I am, no matter how often I tell them.

I tell them so so so often.

I only hope they know how deeply it runs, how much I care for them, how lucky I feel to be their friend, how incredible they are to me, how quickly I'd shed blood if they only needed it.

I'd say, "I've truly never known a kindness like this before. I've never had a circle of people who've cared so deeply for me until you. You all make me feel like staying alive was worth it. That I walked away from dying at my own hand and into a different kind of light. Thank you."

but it's not normal to say these things, so instead I say, "I love you guys" "Thank you for being so cool" "I really appreciate you all"

and I just hope that they all know what I mean.

One day I'll find a way to tell them. One day.

[hello-sweetheart]

You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.

Clumsy in Love Part 2

It’s hard to listen to Eddie talk about this guy the same way Steve wished he did about him. Eddie, already so full of life and words, doesn’t seem to need to take a breather between his praises.

“Can’t believe this guy is actually into me, did you see him? Oh my god!” He groans and smacks his palms against the steering wheel, literally bouncing in his seat.

The van swerves a bit to the left.

“He’s just my type, too. Those eyes, prettiest eyes that have ever graced human existence, and they were looking at me. Me! Wow! The darkest green— I don’t think there’s any precious stone that can compare actually.”

He beams at him and Steve’s traitorous heart still flutters like a wounded bird helplessly flapping its broken wing. Eddie is smiling so hard his cheeks must hurt, eyes crinkled at the corners and teeth on full display.

Steve will close his eyes at night and replay these words, pretending that this excitement and instant adoration is about him. That Eddie’s love-struck smile is for him.

“And, to top it off, he’s a geek. A fucking nerd. He actually knows DnD! What are the chances, Stevie? I’m no religious man, but an angel must have heard mine desperate pleas.”

His name is Adiel, Eddie’s perfect guy.

Steve spends that night feeling the need to cry, the hurt is right there at the base of his throat refusing to spill.

Steve kind of wishes he did, maybe letting everything out would leave him feeling empty instead impossibly full of heartache.

Adiel is blond, a dirty blonde that means he must’ve had light locks as a kid. Face slim and cheek bones prominent, but his features are soften by button nose. Maybe Eddie is right, he looks like the angels depicted in stained church windows, but whereas angels are depicted in white, Adiel wore exclusively black.

He wasn’t decorated in rings and chains like Ed, only a few silver piercings in his ears and a couple on his lips. But it was evident they had much in common, even just by looks. More than Steve could ever say about him and Eddie.

Over the next couple of weeks they share their music, intrinsically understanding what it means to one another.

Getting it.

Getting it the way that Steve never could, even with hours of Eddie breaking it down for him. Maybe Steve never understood, but he loved those moments shared between them. Wonders if Adiel cherishes those moments too. If he takes it for granted.

They share everything with each other and Steve hears every little detail gushed between sickly sweet sighs. He’s trying to be a good friend, to listen and share Eddie’s happiness, but something inside him grows bitter. Angry. He hates feeling this way.

“I met his friends already, they’re a really cool bunch. I really think you guys would get along. They know all the best spots for people like us. There’s a whole world out there, Stevie—“

Stevie. His breath stutters.

“Of people like us with places for us. We could take Robin and Vicky and be surrounded by people that won’t, that won’t think we’re… wrong. And who knows,” he nudges Steve’s side with a suggestive smile, “maybe you’ll meet the one there, huh Stevie?”

“Stop. Just, just stop!”

Steve doesn’t mean to yell. He just can’t take it anymore. Everything that has been building up inside him has reached a point where he just can’t. He pushes Eddie away from him who looks startled. Offended and bothered and confused.

“I don’t want to meet his friends, or least of all him. I don’t get it, okay! I thought—“

What did he think? That one day he would confess to Eddie or vice versa? That they’d kiss and go on double dates with Robin and Vicky? That he would fall asleep each night in love and loved? It seemed plausible at some point. That’s what hurts the most.

“Hey, Stevie—“

“Don’t call me that! You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

“What? Your name? You don’t want me to call you by your name?”

A bitter laugh, “yeah. My name from your mouth.”

“I, You’re not making any sense!”

Steve knows. He knows. But Stevie, Big boy, Ozzy… even his own name, can’t bear to hear them. Not from him. Can’t bare the way his heart squeezes.

Eddie’s looking at Steve with furrowed brows and down turned lips, standing still. Has Eddie ever been still before in his life?

Once. When he was still and pale and red. His chest gone quiet for the most terrifying seconds of Steve’s life.

Steve looks at him, his eyes burn. Steve’s breath from his own chest brought Eddie back to them. Eddie’s lungs still carry his desperation. His ribs healed but the cracks must still be there from the palm of his hands. He’s tasted Eddie’s blood before from his mouth—

He’s kissing him. Steve, dumb stupid in-love Steve, has his lips on Eddie’s once more, but this time they’re warm and full of life and his ringed hands are on him and,

They’re pushing him. Away.

“Eddie,” his sight is blurry, eyes hot, and breath stuttered. “I, it hurts. You with him. I can’t—I just can’t.

And Eddie looks, terrified, dark eyes searching Steve’s face. For what, he does not know. Sincerity, maybe. Truth. Maybe looking to see if he’s really shattered inside.

“I’m sorry, I… I didn’t…I don’t…”

And Steve?

Steve smiles. It’s watery and his lips quiver.

“I know.” And that’s the problem, isn’t it. It’s always the problem. “I know, Eddie. I’m sorry. It’s, it’s okay.”

Eddie leaves Steve there in the living room.

There’s still two cans of Coke half full on the coffee table but only one person left in the room.

Part one < 💛 > Part 3

Tagged: @bananahoneycomb @margaglitterdeath

[horror-beeings-artandwriting]

PLEEEEEEASE DROP ANY BUILDERMAN X MASC READER HCS YOU HAVE I AM STARVING I HAVE NOTHIIIING /silly

DW POOKIE I SHALL GIVE U FOOD!!!

Prompt: headcanons

Pronouns: He/Him reader

Character: Builderman(Blocktales)

Note: sorry if this is short, idk how to write him to well yet!

Builderman I’d like to think it’s a really good boyfriend! Yeah sure! He can’t really cook, and he comes home covered in mystery dust and oddly colored stains…along side the random burn marks on his arms because he wanted to test out a creators new obby… Okay he’s a little dumb.. but that’s okay! He loves to talk to you about the new creations he’s seen, about how he can’t wait until they go public, talking about how he’ll take you! He carves little bits and pieces of wood to make you things! He also knows how to sew so, he’s your personal tailor now! (This is cuz all the og cosmetics were made by Roblox-) He’s very overprotective when it comes to you, you’re his boyfriend! No one can treat you poorly on his watch! Otherwise…(insert picture of builderman smacking someone with the banhammer here) When he first goes missing, you obviously panicking trying to to call his friends. Shedletsky, mayor thaniyel, basically anyone and everyone who you can think of… But…nothing comes up. Shedletsky tells you he’s been kidnapped! So you go off and find the ice dagger taking out a king in your wake to find your love. Then the venomshank were thaniyels own son turned against him…and then for a few months nothing…but then. Shedletsky called you about some form of lead? Maybe…maybe go check it out… It won’t end badly right? I mean. You got the ice dagger, the venomshank. The ghost walker should be easy! Nothing can go wrong. Right?

Wow what happened there idk, anyways hope you enjoyed!!!

[starrystevie]

"what's that?" dustin asks one night, eyes zeroed in on steve's chest.

confused, he glances down to where his button up has opened a bit at the neckline, not seeing anything on his skin other than the chain around his neck and bits of chest hair.

"what's what, henderson?"

the chain is simple silver, and at the bottom hidden under his shirt is a ring. he was gifted one of eddie's when they made whatever they were official. eddie let him pick, let steve trail his fingers feather light over his hands and over heavy silver until he found one he liked.

"you gonna pick one in this century?" eddie teased, looking up at him from under his lashes, smirking in the way that gives steve butterflies.

"this is an important decision," steve murmured out in a low voice, his light touch sending shivers down eddie's spine. "i can't just settle on one."

he ends up with a mood ring, one that eddie swore he only had because he needed something on his otherwise bare hand but steve knows it's because he thought it looked mysterious. sliding it off his finger is easy, placing a kiss on the pale bit of skin left behind is even easier.

it doesn't fit on his finger, not even close. he could barely squeeze it onto his pinkie but even then they had to use strawberry lube to get it off after it gets stuck.

"you don't have to wear it," eddie said, defeated with his big brown eyes breaking steve's heart into pieces.

but the thing is, steve is a little more than head over heels for him. he'd do anything to make eddie happy, make him feel loved, and being offered a ring in the first place had him feeling like he could fly. he wanted to show it off, flaunt it around like it was more than a mood ring because it was.

just because his fingers were too big didn't mean he couldn't keep the ring on him at all times. which is how he ended up with it on the simple silver chain around his neck.

the night he showed eddie for the first time, crawling up the bed shirtless to push him into the pillows with a searing kiss, was a night he wouldn't soon forget. eddie stared up at him with something that looked like love dancing behind his eyes as the ring dangled between them, glinting in the moonlight coming in through the bedroom window.

"you're wearing it?" eddie's voice was soft, reverent, as he took a hand up to cover the ring with his hand, pushing it into steve's chest right above his heart. he bent down to give eddie another kiss, relishing in the quick bite of pain that comes from the pressure of him pushing the metal into his chest.

"of course i'm wearing it, babe," steve said against his lips with a smile. "not gonna be able to get me to take it off now."

true to his word, steve never takes it off unless absolutely necessary. he wears it in his sleep, when he slides in behind eddie and curls around him. he wears it to work under his shirts, the metal warm against his skin as it thumps along with his heartbeat. he wears it around the house, when they go out on dates, when he showers. he wears it when he knows eddie will see the outline of it peeking through a tight shirt, driving him crazy.

it becomes habit for eddie to find it, fiddle with it over steve's clothes while they watch tv on the couch. they'll be pressed up against each other, limbs entwined, with his hand directly over the ring, rising and falling with every breath steve takes.

wearing it at all times, however, seems to be causing a bit of a problem. one that even dustin can see.

"don't be obtuse," he tuts as if he was chastising a child, "who gave you a bruise on your chest?"

"what are you talking about, i don't have a bruise on my-"

steve rolls his eyes and goes to the bathroom, flicking on the overhead light and pushing his chest out to get as close the mirror as possible. sure enough, sitting right above his heart, is a barely there bruise. it's a little green, a little brown, but definitely there.

there's something to be said about having eddie bruised above his heart. something to be said about having the indent of his ring pressed into his skin where he's the most vulnerable. the place where he had to learn how to take his armor off to let eddie see in the first place.

steve looks between the bruise and his face, back and forth and back again and watches as his smile grows wide, grows soft around the edges, grows into something that is vaguely eddie shaped which somehow makes it grow even softer.

he can hear eddie get home, the front door slamming as he shouts a too loud welcome to dustin and drops his toolbox onto the floor. his heart thuds a little bit like it always does when he realizes eddie is nearby, and he thinks if he could look close enough, he'd see his eddie shaped bruise jump along with it.

carefully, steve strokes his fingers over the discoloration, presses down just enough to feel it zing through his nerves like the lightning that eddie himself is. he watches as the skin turns pale before blooming back to life again.

steve thinks there's something there that he can't put his finger on. something thrumming through his veins that he can't give a name to.

"baby, you've got to come see this!" he yells into the living room.

something that he has all the time in the world with eddie to eventually figure out.

crossposted on twitter here

[gallawitchxx]

whipped up a lil outside pov to celebrate @galladrabbles 3rd anniversary! 🥳 congrats & thanks to vey & evie for keeping us creating every single week! this one’s for the early prompt: “spark a fire” by danny vera, which is such a gallavich vibe 🔥🖤

- - - - -

Besides Carl, who’d swept her off her feet despite her best efforts, Ian and Mickey were Sera’s favorite Gallaghers.

“Can’t believe you were cellmates once,” she laughs, passing the joint to a bloodshot-eyed Ian.

Mickey snatches it before he can take another hit, which Ian allows. “Believe it, new girl. Was way better than gettin’ locked up alone.”

“He landed in juvie days after we first sparked something.”

“Took a bullet for this babyface too,” Mickey coos, grabbing Ian’s chin.

Sera knows shit about love, but after sixteen years of good and bad, clearly they’ve got something beautiful and true.