#but shush it's gonna be shiny

[nabesthetics]

screw US shipping prices. I'm making my own heckin Arcana merch

[sugurizz]

(SMUT/NSFW +18 - minors DNI !)

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭.: Joo Jaekyung x f! reader - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 , 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: "𝐒𝐞𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬, 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐗…

...Don't you think that's strange?"

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 / 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dark content ahead!, explicit content, dubcon, graphic content, dom/sub dynamics, power dynamics, HEAVY degradation, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, anal sex (hardcore anal btw), multiple rounds, Jaekyung putting it in every hole you have, creampie (anal), insults /nicknames (Doc, slut, whore, etc...)

𝐰.𝐜: 1,2k.

𝐉𝐎𝐎 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐆 − 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

'I see you've made up your mind, doc...'

The husky voice came from behind your shoulder.

'...If that's the case, then hurry and strip to your underwear. Haven't got the whole night for this.'

He wanted to get it over with and frankly so did you. If you could skip to the moment he plows into you like a beast in heat you would. Your self-restraint slipped through your fingertips as you pulled your shirt over your head. As it did for seeing him undress and toss his luxurious bathrobe with no care. He pulled his boxers just low enough for his shaft to bounce free and towered over you with his erection in your face.

'suck.' He shamelessly pressed it against your lips, raven eyes locked with yours. And so you obeyed, taking him straight into your throat.

'See my size, hmm? oughtta get that throat nice and ready, miss doc.'

His girth stretched the corners of your mouth as soon as he pushed it in. The calloused hand grabbed your head and pulled it into his shaved pubes. You could feel his veins pulsing against your throat as his skilled fingers tugged on your locks.

Your chest instantly swelled at the lack of air, hearing him growl the deepest 'Mhh fuck! so fucking tight...'. He yanked your head back at once, almost making you throw up. the shiny strings of saliva still pulled your lips to his still throbbing tip.

'Not half bad, miss. But I ain't cumming in your mouth tonight.' He smirked, chest rising and falling as he tried his best to hold back .

His lips pursed together, spitting a load straight on your tongue and smearing it over your mouth before grabbing your jaw between his fingers with a maniac grimace on his face.

'If only Coach and the rest of the black team knew what our doc does in her free time...' He chuckled and smacked your cheek.

'If only they got to watch 'Miss perfect' slobber on this cock like a whore.'

His vile words jabbed at your pride, almost making your tears spill out, but you still had it in yourself to defy him.

'I'm not the one with the sex jinx...'

'Oh, got ourselves some attitude too, huh?'...

He slammed you down on the bed and sat on top of you, blocking your legs between his and forcing your jaw open.

'Don't try me. I'll fuck it right out of you, miss doc.'

You hated his attitude, or so you thought. Though your pussy clenching at his nasty words suggested otherwise. He flipped you over and pulled your underwear to the side, dragging his tip along painfully slow.

'Running your mouth while wetting your cunt senseless seems quite insencere of you...Don't ya think?' He teased and pressed it deeper against your entrance.

'B-But it's not like that! I'm just...'

A painful smack hit your ass, leaving the red imprint on your cheek. You cried out in pain and grabbed at his arm, your juices staining his perfume-fragant bedsheets.   

'Ah...Mr. Joo!, p-please stop..'

'Aww, got ya begging so fast already? slutty doc.' He lifted you over his lap and thrusted in, ripping the loudest scream from you.

'AH!' You threw your head against his chest in surprise.

He stood up and held your whole body in his arms, bouncing you up and down his length. You felt almost weightless in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and muffling your loud sobs into his neck.

'Mr Joo, s-slower...please!'

'Shush, And hold on tight. Your butt's gonna hurt a bit now...'

He pulled out and gave himself a few pumps before switching into your tiny butthole.

'Sir, wait! I've never-'

'God, get it together now, would ya?' Another spank electrifyed you, making your asscheek all red again. 'We still have a long night ahead of us!'

He hammered away at your stomach, The flush on his cheeks gaining a darker shade. The pain of his reckless thrusts toned down, yet his unmatched stamina had you chewing your poor lip.  

'Mmh who could've guessed? Miss doc's getting her ass pounded like a slut.' He grunted, 'you sure carry yourself different outside this room. hmm?'

His pace got faster as his fingers dug deeper into your poor thighs, panting and groaning against your damp skin.

'Aghh..even I couldn't tell how well you could take cock when I first met you.' You knew he was fucking you stupid when his bitter words flew over your head. your brain didn't really catch a sound. Your senses saturated with him filling you up, till your body almost collapsed under his much bigger frame. His fingers instantly caught you by your neck, pulling you back up to him.

'Arch that back properly! you keep fucking slipping.'

'Sir! when..d-do we get to rest..agh' You could barely articulate from his cock punching your g-spot. And he'd be lying if he said the view of you babbling your nonsense while gushing on his dick didn't drive him wilder.  

'Ever rode dick before?' He teased,

'Cause you'll be the one taking charge now.'

He layed down and folded his arms behind his head, smirking at you as he stopped moving inside.

'Your turn, miss therapist.'

You leaned forward, already feeling dizzy, palms holding tight onto his defined pecs. Then slowly rocked your hips with his, whimpering as your clit kissed his pelvis.

Your skin lit up with every touch of his own, almost as if his touch burned you. His grip on your thighs kept you from falling, yet you still felt lightheaded, almost like passing out. He grabbed your waist again and slammed you shut on his cock with a furious impatience.

'AHH, Fuck!' You mewled as you came on his stomach right away. The shockwaves rushing through your muscles had you crash down over his torso right away.

'Hey. I'm far from done here.'

He lifted you off his chest and placed you under him. And you whined in response, feeling him enter you again

'Get your shit together now. I ain't here to baby-sit!'

His pace got instantly erratic and so did his grunts. Driving you insane with his hands manhandling your back, spanking your ass, grabbing your waist, squeezing your hips and mercilessly tightening around your neck.

'F-uck, I cum inside by the way.' He grabbed you in a chokehold as he pumped his potent seed in your butthole, then grinned and pulled out slowly, whispering into the crook of your neck

'I just made you my cumdump. Congrats, Doc.' you tightened at the sound of his voice,  pushing his cum loads out your hole. He licked his lips in full pride, relishing at the sight of your seeping butt before pulling you to his chest again.

'Oh and just so you know, I never go less than 3 rounds on my matches' eve...'

Your body grew numb, and equally did your brain. Though you knew he had yet to satisfy his desire. You didn't know how much longer you had to go, nearing to pass out on his greedy lust. His rough touches spared no spot on your flesh, his powerful thighs slamming yours in the most feral ways...

-----

...You woke up to the mild sunrays, faint hints of his cologne bringing back the lewdest flashbacks he gave you. He was nowhere to be seen, only a large-sized towel left on side of the bed you believed he layed on.

You grabbed your phone as you slowly regained your senses, seeing a notification on your screen.

'𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝. 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞., 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐭?'…

𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑?...

𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.

[crucifiedkiss]

◌ೆ୧　 ͢YOUR MAIL HAS BEEN DELIEVERED ♡

𓈒⠀⠀⁺⠀𝜗 crucifiedkiss ╱ p. jackson x gn! reader 𝜚

ꨄ︎ hcs dating percy ⏤ ﹙meteor shower﹚ 🪽 ˖ ׁ ⁩

  ಲ ͏ㅤ ׅㅤㅤcw: show!percy (i havent read the book(s) ...), season not specified, fluff, ooc (proudly), water && swimming, kissing (underwater), extremely cheesy/cringey type loveㅤ✿𝅼

( ｡>﹏<) "on my grind ?22??!1 i love percy sm someone pls lock my phone away 😞 i drank tons of coffee today god help me pls (I POSTED IT BY ACCIDENT THE FIRST TIME RAHHH)" ⏤ c.k.　と

𝜗୧ ּ݂⠀💌 dating percy jackson would include ﹗

　　　⏤　 him practically showing u off with the most smug look ever ... like, "yeah, this is my partner– u guys could never :3" cause he is so goofy like that. probably on purpose does rlly romantic things with u near others just to either embarrass u or ,,, well ,,, yeah, rlly just to embarrass u honestly. the way he giggles at u when u push him away and say sorry for his behavior is so silly. whilst doing the romantic thing (ie. hugging u from behind) he sticks his tongue out at the person u were talking to like "haha i have their attention and u dont !!!" cause he is just a little mischievous guy – does rlly cheesy things ESPECIALLY😭 no matter if the view on him gets damaged for being to lovey/immature !! he loves to annoy u lowk.

　　　⏤　 him being like, rlly clingy and pda a 12/10 ^^" (as u can see) (the extra 2 is CRUCIAL). literally stuck to ur side and follows u around like a lost puppy even tho he is a literal demigod very capable of, like, everything pretty much ... besides archery seemingly. absolutely SMITTEN ,,, head over heels type smitten. grins from ear to ear just at seeing u be happy !! expect him to be like, everywhere near u, if its possible with his schedule and urs. he carries lotion around EVERYWHERE just so his hands r smooth enough for u to hold his hand, even if u would hold his hand without.

　　　⏤　 him dragging u out ur cabin at midnight, being way past curfew, and taking u to the beach to go swimming. the amount of times u guys have almost gotten caught is insane😓 the way percy loudly shushes u–him being louder then u when doing so but whatevs–and stays quiet for a moment to listen if that was a false alarm or not, swearing he heard a little rustle, but it ending up half the time being nothing (if it is someone he dunks his head underwater .. hope u can breath underwater for a long time aswell ..!!). if ur paranoid/anxious then its gonna suck being with percy cause of how he is always doing SMTH a little devious !!! that snarky lil grin he has when he pushes u into the water or just makes a wave hit u so u fall down– hope u dont have a fear of deep waters or just water in general cause if so u have chosen the wrong guy to love !!😣 /lh

　　　⏤　 him getting u seashells and making u seashell necklaces and bracelets :3 i think of percy as like, stupid in a silly way, but very creative and smart aswell, so he probably just makes u any jewelry with anything shiny he can find on the hot sand or cool water and it not just limited to the pretty seashells either :) makes u stuff out of just about anything he can find and, if ur hair is long enough, he will braid it or smth if u want !!! pls tell him whether or not u do like it or uncomfortable with ur hair/head/etc. touched😭 just a rlly crafty guy nonetheless tho !!! :)

　　　⏤　 him being aware of tons of stuff u like, even if u dont tell him. asks literally everyone at camp what type of jokes u like or figures it out himself and mentally writes it down just to see u laugh, figuring out ur favorite smells to get u candles/perfumes/colognes that smell just like it so u can be happy, figuring out what ur favorite flower is to pick that one exactly to give it to u, etc. !! pays close attention to what u say so do expect him to know LOTS !!

　　　⏤　 him flowerpicking constantly for u :) i said in the last little bit i wrote ("figuring out what ur favorite flower is to pick that one exactly to give it to u") that he finds ur favorite flower, so obv he makes u so many bouquets :3 him being the son of poseidon, those flowers will be the healthiest things EVER. it has so much water for free !!! just imagine having a whole shelf dedicated to all the flowers he has given u and other trinkets/things he made u (if ur not wearing them)

　　　⏤　 him SHAMELESSLY flirting with u in any instance ... usually in bad scenarios aswell ??? "are those new shoes ?? they look great on u !!!", "u looked hot killing that monster btw❤ (/silly)", "u look rlly good today ... are we about to kiss rn?" type stuff😭😭 freaking IDIOT !!!! /pos probably on purpose says the most outrageous things during the worst of times. fighting someone ?? flirt. yelling at someone ?? flirt. being yelled at ?? flirt. like can u pull urself together percy my goodness😞

　　　⏤　 him getting a custom made shirt that says "i love ___" or "if lost, pls return to ___", or wearing one of those "i ❤ my partner" cause he is so cheesy unironically😭 he is a absolute love-driven dork for u i SWEAR !!! just any shirt that is so dumb saying he loves u or smth like that and wears it out OPENLY ... ive told u once and i will tell u again: he loves embarrassing u !! whether on purpose or not, he is just a loser all together who loves u sm /pos

　　　⏤　 him taking u underwater and kissing u, not bothering to check if anyone is near or not. also, i feel like he would be the type to kiss u randomly whilst ur talking and just cheekily smile. anyways, back on the underwater kissing topic (i need to quit yapping omll😣) ... he is literally the son of poseidon and is as sly as a fox, do u expect him NOT to drag u underwater and just abruptly kiss u ?? never get near him when u two r swimming cause he will do it at any time. people around ?? kissing. not even in the correct clothes for swimming, risking getting his and ur clothes wet (he does not care if he gets his casual day clothes wet, personally😭) ?? kissing. he does not care i promise so be ready at any moment to be dunked underwater.

　　　⏤　 him taking u on dates 24/7 and it always being water themed or having water there. it can be a waterpark, a park with a fountain, a beach, a aquarium ... anything with water. also, make sure the places have blue foods/drinks ,,, papa smurf percy (/silly/j ik guys im hilarious❤) likes his blue !!! the way his dates r always planned out THOROUGHLY. if they do not have one of his needs (water, blue food, etc.) he will probably not go unless u rlly want to cause ur his weakness lowk🫂

　　　⏤　 extra: him getting u a pet fish ... tho its more for him. sobs hysterically when it dies and never gets another pet (thats a lie. probably a dog person and gets a golden retriever or smth ... and maybe another fish :3)

[nuemanfilms]

— Soulless!sam picks up a hooker who gets more than she bargained for (pt2.)

He saw you at the bar. Looking around like a lost puppy, yet the short skirt you wore was giving him a sense that you weren’t just there for a drink.

So, he walked over to you, and leaded you out to his rental car, driving to his motel room. When he unlocked it, you were pushed on the bed.

Your skirt rid up your ass, showing him your pretty pink thong, the words ‘Princess’ written on the back.

Sam gave a smack to your ass, sliding your thong down as you mewled for his cock.

“Such a pretty little pussy, baby..” He groaned at the sight of your arousal. You were fucking soaked. His cock twitched, but he ignored it.

“Please fuck me, Sir! Please..” You begged, and Sam let out a dark chuckle, “I’m gonna fuck you, Baby. But first, I’m gonna eat this pretty little cunt of yours.”

That’s when he noticed it. The shiny, pink shaped diamond that was stuffed in your other hole. You had that inside you this whole time? Oh he was gonna have a lot of fun.

“Look at that,” He coos, “You stretchin’ y’self out for me like a little slut? You want my big cock in your tight little ass?” You nodded, Sam grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him.

“Later, Baby.” He gave a devilish smile, before attacking your pussy with his tongue. You cried, his rough fingertips prying your thighs apart. Your ass was in the air, and Sam was devouring your pussy like a starved man.

Your juices leaked like a faucet onto his tongue, and he groaned in delight at your taste. He didn’t even pull out for air, his nose brushing against your clit had you crying actual tears.

“pleas- auh! God, I can’t— I can’t do it.. sir, please..!” you cried and sobbed out his title. And the only time Sam pulled away was to shush you.

“Sshh.. you can take it, take it for me, hm? Be a good girl and take it..” He knew your orgasm was approaching rapidly, and he wanted this, he wanted you to scream for him.

Then he added his fingers to the mix, scissoring them inside of your tight channel. You moaned repeatedly before letting out a scream.

“‘m gonna cum- please let me cum..” You whimpered. Sam pulled away, snatching your orgasm from you in a second.

You sighed, your breaths were finally slowing down. And just as you thought you guys were done.. he pulled out his cock.

[neteyamyawne]

💗 — Daddy Kink

『 Pairing 』 Tsu'tey x Fem!Na'vi!Reader.

『 summary 』 you were assigned to train under his wing, but his ways of punishment are quite unconventional and rather enjoyable for you and for him as well.

『 warning 』 Daddy kink, Babygirl/daddy dynamic, Dacryphilia, p in v, explicit, biting, degradation, belly bulge, Tsaheylu bonding, kuruplay, aftercare, pet names.

『 word count 』 815. Proof read.

『 Notes 』 Y'all!!! I need more Tsu'tey requests! My man is deprived!!

『 Glossary 』 Oel ngati kameie - I see you, Tiyawn - love, Paskalin - Honey/sweet berry.

◦ Masterlist || M.Masterlist

It all started with a bow and arrow, that's all you knew for now as your back rocked against the grass of the forest floor, the canopy above was a blur of green, brown and soft blue, legs thrown over his shoulders as he rocked your world dumb.

»»————-　♡　————-««

He was teaching you how to draw an arrow, his chest pressed against your back as he helped you draw the arrow with his hand wrapped around your first, his breath fanning over your hair, breathing in and out before letting go of the arrow as it hit the bullseye on the tree trunk.

But all you could think of was his body pressed against yours, his hot breath over your neck, his hands gripping yours, it was a tingling sensation, making you bite your lip and squeeze your wet pussy to stop the empty aching throb.

He knew though… he saw it… smelled it on your scent, saw the shiny droplets forming on the crown of your head, your breaths coming in heavy, he smirked, kissing the shell of your ear, startling you enough that the bow slipped out of your hand, he chuckled at your surprise “what, Tiyawn? I know what you're thinking…”

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was how you ended up with your leg on his shoulder, a hand gripping your hip tightly, bruising the flesh as your cries rang in his ear with Each. Fucking. Thrust. His other hand pressed below your belly button to feel each thrust inside you, fucking you so deep till you could see nothing but stars in broad daylight, tears glistening down your cheeks “Fuck… daddy please… i can't take it”

Your crying and pleading only turned him on more, making his pace go faster to drag out another lewd moan from your sore throat “shh shh, you can Ma Y/n, you can take like a good little slut, can't you baby girl?” He hummed in your ear, pounding into your wet and sloppy hole, you felt it again, the pressure building up, the coil about to snap.

Tears welled up in your eyes, your whiny cries fell on deaf ears, he watched the lovely sight below him, the way your tits bounced with each thrust, hair sprawled on the forest floor, teary eyes looking up at him, longing for more.

Tsu'tey leaned down with a smile, his signature two braids with red beads dangling above you, shushing your needy cries with kiss, his mouth and hips working in sync, muffling any sound that came out of you, the hand previously at your hip now rubbed circles on your clit, as he pulled back to watch you near your ever so needed climax “look at you… fucked so good, you can't even think straight, taking my cock so good, sucking me in like a hungry little bitch you are.”

Your whimpers were echoed in the forest, your mind fogged so bad that anything except his name and cock was otherworldly to you “Tsu'- *hiccup* da- daddy… I'm gonna.. fuck I'm so close..” he increased the pace, rubbing on the swollen nub with a groan of his own as he himself was close to losing it.

“That's it, good girl, cum with me, Tiyawn… just like that”

He grunted in your ear, pulling your closer to his chest, hips colliding with yours until you were screaming his name and came with him, the climax was dizzying, eyes rolling back in your skull as he pulled out with a heavy sigh and groan before laying down beside you and dragging you into his arm.

“There there, paskalin… you did so good, such a good girl..” He whispered into ear while rubbing your back soothingly and kissing the top of your head, out of breath and expended, he smiled down at your exhausted state, his other arm worked as a pillow for you and kissed the side of your temple, shifting the braids over your ear as it flickered at soft touch.

You had your face buried in his shoulder, sleeping peacefully after a ride of your life, his hands caressing and comforting your body, it was magical… almost as if it was Eywa’s will to have you two together.

The short nap for enough to get down from the high as he stared at you intently with his honey-gold eyes, caressing the side of your face until he whispered the words you were dying to hear “Oel ngati kameie, Ma y/n”

It was as if the whole world was with you, your smile almost as bright as the sun itself as he brought his kuru in front of you, as if asking for confirmation before you nodded “oel ngati kameie, Ma Tsu'tey” you whispered before joining your kuru to his at last with a smile spreading on your face.

Together forever till eternity, bound till death do you apart.

Yawne : @eywaite, @tallulah477, @luvv4j4ybe11, @pandoraslxna, @ikeyniofthetayrangi, @am-ka, @jooniexmoon, @wanabekanae, @luvteyams, @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog, @dhdidndidn, @erostothenus, @rO-xy, @jakesullywhore, @m3g215, @lis4lipsi, @your-lover-died, @heisbetterthanwaffles, @suinhee, @teymars, @taronyuhunter, @chesireleah1999, @moonchildxoxx, @celessO, @marydiva-17, @thepeonysbackup, @j1b-b, @huntthefreaky, @myloveforyourisforever, @st4rgi4l, @pheonixfucu, @nailOv3r, @neteyamsoare.

©Neteyamyawne2023 | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!

[toovaeloe]

jjk men and their girl’s hair 🪮

A collection of headcanons,

made for a black reader, but others are welcomed to read! some of it is ambiguous

blackfem!reader

characters: satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, choso kamo, toji fushiguro (AS A JOKE), ryomen sukuna (ANOTHER JOKE)

(Sorry if you have locs pooks😭🤍)

there’s no pronouns mentioned, but it’s made entirely with a bw in mind (with the hairstyles mentioned and such) so I’m still labeling it as fem!reader

definitely inspired by this drabble!

.•*:｡☁️satoru gojo☁️𓍼ֶָ֢⊹

☁️Clueless mf

☁️But he wants to understand

☁️WILL whine about how long it’s taking you to do your hair

“baaaaaaaaaaaaabbyyyyyyyyuhhhhhhh…can’t you like? Work any faster??” He’s huffing and puffing, rolling around on his bed and whining. Occasionally poking his head into the ensuite bathroom to observe the mess that is your workspace. When he does come in, he’s poking and prodding at you. He’s got the nerve to blame your hair for taking away his quality time with you.

And you’re fed up with his brat behavior. He’s so persistent in his tantrum and so bothersome, you’ve had to redo your sections more times than you should’ve had to. He’s just too distracting; you’re gonna give yourself a smiddle part if he doesn’t shut up.

“why don’t you get over here and actually help then???”

☁️he’s never really…done much with hair before. Ever. never had to

☁️the undercut was his one and only move

☁️I mean look at him 🙁 he’s the kind to be like “yeah, I just shampoo and condition. Sometimes I don’t even really need to brush it.” And it’s like, flawlessly smooth and shiny and he should really just get a gig with Pantene for an ad cause damn

☁️he only stumbles a few times and learns at a terrifyingly inhumanly fast pace

☁️Ends up taking over and he’s got your style done in record time, and it looks better than if you had done it yourself somehow. (sorry, it’s literally canon that he’s the best at everything he tries, there’s nothing to be done about it)

🤍and then he’s playing in your head 😭

“Let’s do this one next,” he’s shoving his phone in your face.

“you can NOT give me lemonade braids.”

☁️oh yeah and he’s got the money to fund your hair 🤍 of course

.•*:｡☁️suguru geto☁️𓍼ֶָ֢⊹

☁️Okay not as bad as Gojo

☁️Have you seen this man’s hair?? He maintains it. Cares for it. He can at least do that much.

☁️Learns pretty quickly as well; but he’s educated almost entirely off of YouTube tutorials and online forums

☁️He wanted to start doing your hair together as a cute date activity <3

☁️But then sometimes it’s not that cute

☁️Prayers if you’re tender headed🙏🏽

“Ooooowuh!!!”

“Stop squirming,” He’s demanding around a rat tail comb, pausing the video tutorial on his phone that’s propped up against the bathroom mirror. If you start whining or pulling away he’s yanking you back into place by your hair as he rewinds the tutorial. But he’s nice with you, too; he’ll lean forward and kiss away any tears that gather at the corners of your eyes from over your shoulder, gently whisper and shush you with his lips against the shell of your ear.

“It’s okay, we’re almost done. See? My baby looks so pretty,” As he’s gesturing to you and your three quarters done hair in the mirror, angling your head every which way he wants with a grip on the unfinished section. You’re starting to think he just likes doing that for the hell of it when you catch the beginnings of a smirk curling at his lips. Sick freak. (Love him🤍)

🤍At the end of the day though the style is TIGHT like your hair is gripping onto your scalp for dear life.

☁️And I know he does at home silk presses like no other

☁️They are siiiilllllkkyyyyy

☁️When you do have a silk press or a straight wig installed though he’s styling your guys’ hair to match exactly in the half up bun and half down. With the stupid side bang. (I love his stupid side bang)

☁️Sickeningly cute couples activity

.•*:｡☁️kento nanami☁️𓍼ֶָ֢⊹

☁️Dreamy sigh

☁️He’s not very good at first but he’s VERY good at following directions

☁️And the precision????

☁️You could take a ruler to your head when he parts your hair

☁️They’re so perfect

☁️Best at parting hair

☁️And very meticulous with braiding too

☁️so serious about it

☁️But he also won’t hurt you either when he’s helping you do your hair

☁️It’s more of a sitting in front of the tv watching the same show again while he listens to you talk about your day thing

“yeah, and you wouldn’t believe when— hey Ken?”

“Hm?” He’d hum in return, but his eyes are still laser focused on the way his fingers are deftly working three sections of your hair, overlapping the portions with a careful touch, and yet so efficiently.

“Are you even listening to me?” You inquired, trying to turn your head to catch his eye, but you can’t even get a glimpse of him before he’s directing your head back towards the screen with his pointer under your chin and thumb pressed against the mandible of your jaw.

“No moving. Keep your head forward, my love.” He commands as he resumes his work. That’s right; his work. He takes this very seriously, you will come out with perfect hair every time.

“But yes; of course I’m listening. What’d she do next?”

☁️he’s so gorgeous and perfect.OMGGG

☁️He will drop hella cash for your hair too. He’s a minimalist so he doesn’t have anything else to pour the money into anyway. what’s he gonna spend it on? Another watch? A stamp collection???

☁️Did i mention he’s perfect and the loml?

☁️He is.

.•*:｡☁️choso kamo☁️𓍼ֶָ֢⊹

☁️Hmmm…

☁️Oookay, soooo

☁️He really does try. and that’s what counts.

☁️gold star for perseverance

☁️Yes he can do his own hair and yes he’s taking care of it

☁️But he just cannot…eh

☁️Anything more than 4 parts is giving him trouble

☁️He can’t braid well

☁️He gets so frustrated with himself

☁️Talking to your hair; negotiating with it

☁️Losing every time

Another string of muttered curses under his breath after he insisted he “help” plait your hair before bed that night.

“Cho, it really doesn’t have to be perfect-“

“I know! I know, I’m just—“ Another bitten back swear as he undoes the sections once again with a defeated huff. “Okay, just let me just redo it, one more time. It’s really uneven.”

Don’t flinch at the thought. For his peace of mind.

☁️What he can do though is a mean slick back

☁️edges, 10/10 swoops

☁️And he can give you space buns 💀 to match his hair

☁️he’s good at low manipulation natural styles

☁️He can do twists, he’s not completely incompetent. Just not with clean parts

☁️makes up for everything in relaxing oil scalp massages

☁️You’re gonna fall asleep

☁️Also unexpectedly good at crochets; parts are invisible every time

☁️Which just does not make sense you don’t understand where the disconnect is

☁️He loves when you have your natural hair out

☁️Doesn’t really care how long or short it is, it just makes him happy to see you feeling confident in it

🤍

.•*:｡☁️toji fushiguro☁️𓍼ֶָ֢⊹

☁️LMAOOO

☁️His broke ass doesn’t have shit for you

☁️No money for your poor hair

☁️Also no concept of how expensive it is to go to a salon

“You spent how much…? On HAIR!!????” Definitely clicking his tongue and looking annoyed asl.

“Coulda bought me a nice dinner and place to stay for tonight with that money.”

☁️Sorry if you came for him or Sukuna I won’t really write for them/if at all unless requested 🤷🏽‍♀️ I did warn you

.•*:｡☁️ryomen sukuna☁️𓍼ֶָ֢⊹

☁️Malevolent razor

☁️Really doesn’t matter what type of hair you have; this one applies to everyone

☁️Will chop off little portions of your hair in your sleep.

☁️Does not tell you if the back of your head looks a mess

☁️Let’s you walk around looking foolish

☁️Idk he’s like evil or something

☁️What did you expect

a/n: I wrote this entirely for fun I was giggling the entire way 😭

and after seeing that I’d maybe have an audience for this I decided I’d post it, pls don’t flop 🙈

[forlorn-crows]

WaterDew and Aether quickie between chores. maybe its a first time too

not a first time this time, but definitely a quickie. how long do you think it takes for aether to lose his cool when he smells dew's heat? is it longer than it takes for him to blow?

1.3k of raunchy aether and his little droplet cucoming right up~

Aether shoves him into the vestments storage closet in the hall behind the chapel, bullying him up against the only bare wall in the narrow space. 

“Aether, what the—”

He scents him, snuffling behind his ear. “Heat. Can smell it on you. Driving me crazy.” Dew gasps, and his scent flares stronger. “Fuck, I need you.”

The water ghoul whines when Aether curls his hips towards his own, the state of his arousal evident as it presses against Dew’s belly. “But the candles—”

“Let me. Say you’ll let me.” His hands are everywhere: grabbing at his chest, his waist, slipping under his shirt and past his waistband. “Not gonna take long.”

Dew groans at that, sinking against the wall. He arches into Aether’s hand when he grabs at his ass, cock quickly filling out in his pants. He’s dizzy. Need he didn’t feel before punches him in the gut. He wasn’t even thinking about it when he felt the little stirrings in his stomach this morning, but fuck, does he need it now. The quintessence ghoul presses a finger against his hole and circles his rim, growling at the slick starting to form. 

“Shit, do it, fuck me,” he hisses. Pawing at Aether’s belt as the bigger ghoul smashes their lips together. It’s sloppy, dirtier than he’s used to. But it’s good—Aether takes the lead, stripping him bare from the waist down, pants and underwear pooled at the ankles, and freeing his own cock from his pants. He groans loudly against Dew’s neck as he strokes himself, only indulging in a few rubs against the water ghoul’s own cock before he spins Dew around and kicks his legs apart as far as they’ll go while still trapped in his clothing.

“Just like this,” he rumbles, caging him in against the wall. “Lucifer, you’re so wet already.”

And he is: slick coating his rim, the inside of his cheeks. He’ll probably start dripping soon, defiling the dingy carpet and the front of Aether’s pants with the stench of his heat. 

The bigger ghoul slots his cock in between his cheeks, rutting into Dew hard. He can’t help but arch into it—elbows pressed against the plaster, tail up high over his hip. Exposing. Baring his submission. The quintessence ghoul has yet to be so rough, so careless as he is now, humping him like an animal, but Dew would be lying if he said he didn’t go immediately weak in the knees for it. It’s easy to let him inside, thick finger pumping and twisting until it fills him up. 

Sweat beads up along the sides of his spine. Cold to hot in an instant, that insatiable arousal barging to the surface and demanding more in its feverish way. 

It’s what Dew slurs into the wall once Aether starts wiggling the one finger, stretching him out: “More, Aethe, need more.”

“Yeah, gonna be so full of me,” he purrs, already probing with a second finger. It slides in just as easy as the first, pulling from Dew a bitten-lipped moan. “Fuck, just like that, huh? Need me so bad you’re sucking me in.”

“Uh huh,” the water ghoul whines helplessly. He grinds down on those thick fingers, doing half the effort of working himself open. He can’t help but reach down and paw at himself loosely. He’s wet there too, precum drooling from the slit and little head shiny with it. Dew rests his head against his own forearm and keens. 

Aether shushes him, leaning in close to hiss into his ear. “Wouldn’t want anyone to come knocking, would you?” he says gruffly, nipping at the lobe. Dew’s cock kicks traitorously. Aether laughs, crooks his fingers some. “Oh, you’d like that, droplet? Want the others to see you like this, all stretched out for me, dripping on the carpet?” 

“Aether—” He is absolutely filthy today. Out of his mind horny, just off of Dew and the flare of his heat. 

“Shh, just let me—”

The third finger comes soon enough, just as easy a slide as the others. Dew’s breath is shallow now, panting with the effort of keeping relatively quiet as Aether stretches him. He can’t stop touching himself, adding to the mess on his hand, the carpet. As he’s about to do the fourth finger, the water ghoul whines and spreads his legs further.

“Put it in,” he begs. Shakes his head, those silver flyaways somehow glinting in the dark. “Can’t wait any more.”

Aether all but rips his fingers out of his little body, wetting his cock with slick and pre before shoving the wide head of it against Dew’s hole. The water ghoul keens, tail twitching against his shoulder. Presenting the best he can given their position. It’s enough for Aether, who pushes in all the way to the base in one nasty slide and bottoms out with a groan right against Dew’s temple. 

“Fuck, how do you feel so good?” he growls, wrapping his arms around his waist. Pinning him against his body as he starts to move. “Oh gods, just like that.”

“Fu-cking hell, Aethe,” Dew moans. He begs him to go faster, harder, his little hand immediately flying over his cock, because it feels too good to slow down. The need burns hot and fast in his belly, and he knows Aether can feel it. 

“Squeeze it, that’s it,” he rasps. “Just like that, baby boy, just like that.”

Aether’s cock slides hot and fast against his walls, pelvis tipping up with each thrust to get that much deeper. Dew swears he can feel every time the wide head slips out of the foreskin inside of him, smooth and delicate right against the spot that lights up his entire body. He can certainly feel the squish of his balls against his taint every time he bottoms out: full, round, and warm. Slapping against skin wet with sweat and slick. 

“Hu-uh-oh fuck—” Dew’s pleasure is a runaway train barreling down a short track: destined to bust at any moment. 

“Yeah?” Aether goads. Fingers digging bruises into the front of his hipbones. Dew’s legs are shaking already, a sure sign of his oncoming demise. He can hardly catch his breath with how fast he’s reached the edge with Aether as a catalyst. If he were of sounder mind, he might accuse him of plotting it—weaving magick into his touch to ignite that infant flame and engulf him in hazy lust. Take him for his own and mark him for this cycle before anyone else could. 

He knows Aether wouldn’t. But the thought of him doing it purposefully makes his stomach flip. His hand is still going too fast over his achingly hard cock, and a well-aimed thrust makes him paint the wall with his spend before he has a chance to cry out. 

Aether groans, dropping his face down to Dew’s shoulder. “Fuck, that’s it; cum for me, cum on my cock.” Dew lets out a stream of shitshitshit’s as the quintessence ghoul replaces the hand on his dick with his own, tugging hard for every last drop. “Gonna let me give it to you now?”

Dew nods his head with a whine, twitching as the overstim sets in. “You can have me,” he starts babbling, “all yours—make me yours.”

“Gonna,” Aether strains. “Oh, Dew—”

“Uh huh—”

His cock grows impossibly thicker, ramrod straight in Dew’s little body. He can feel the difference in the weight of his balls as Aether thrusts, once, twice, three times—he buries himself on the fourth, spilling deep inside as he surrounds the water ghoul with an iron grip. 

“Takeittakeittakeit,” he groans, jerking against him. “Fuck.” Dew lets out a shaky moan at the feeling of his load filling him up, claiming him. Tipping him past the point of greedy into insatiable. Hungry.

He won’t be able to stay soft for long, not with the way Aether scents him further and nips at his shoulder. Humping into their shared mess so it really stays deep. He is Aether’s now, at least for the duration of his heat, and the quintessence ghoul won’t let him forget it.

[l1tw1ck]

It's my birthday, so....

(thirst) Ahem, first time with Kaeya? either his or reader's.

And, yes, it's the same anon from the previous Kaeya ask, can you tell that I like him a little bit?

happy birthday!

bottom ftm kaeya x top masc reader

cw: virginity loss, afab language, cunnilingus, squirting

kaeya was very happy to learn that you were a virgin. he loved the idea of getting to be your first time so much

"shh, just lay back and let me do the work." kaeya shushes you. he tucks his hair behind his ear and kisses the tip of your cock. he licks your shaft with long, sexy drags of his tongue. he loves the sounds you're making. he can't wait to hear you when you come in his mouth

he isn't usually dominant in the bedroom but he gained some confidence knowing he has more experience than you

kaeya sinks down onto your cock, holding your wrists together and stopping you from touching him. he smirks at your desperate expression, enjoying the way you're so eager to touch him. he ignores all your pleas and starts bouncing on your cock. you give up on asking for his permission and just admire the way he looks riding you.

~ kaeya lets go of your wrists, stopping before he can reach his orgasm. he brings his hand down to his t-dick and starts stroking himself. you take this opportunity to grab his waist and flip him onto the bed. he looks at you in shock. "please, kae?" you rub his waist with your thumbs. he turns his head to the side, blushing. "fine." he nods. you bring your face into his neck and suck on it while fucking him at a rough pace.

he loves listening to your moans and whimpers as you indulge in his warmth. you're so in love with his pussy that you can't stay quiet and he's definitely not complaining.

after that, you suggested eating him out. kaeya was willing to let you try but didn't expect you to be good at it. he was proven very wrong

kaeya moans and arches his back. "fuck! yes! like that!" he cries, getting rapidly close to an orgasm. this is the most pleasure he's ever felt while getting his pussy eaten. maybe it's your adoration for his body that's made you a god at eating his cunt. "gonna- shit–" he gasps, squirting. he looks down in shock. a (ex) virgin made him squirt for the first time. you look up at him and smile, your face super shiny

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

"Are we ready?" you asked, stepping down the stairs and into the front entryway.

"Wow," Daryl drawled. "Hold up. Lemme pick my jaw up off the floor," he added with a smile, looking you up and down.

Your cheeks flushed with heat. "Shush."

"Nah, I can't. S'gotta be said." He stepped toward you and his hands landed lightly on your lower back, sending goosebumps straight up your spine. "Really. Ya look... way too damn good for me."

"Are you kidding?" you asked, cocking your head at him and leaning in against his strong body. You ran your fingers down a wavy tendril of his clean and shiny hair and then clasped his face along his strong jaw. "You're way out of my league."

He let out a small laugh and ducked his eyes, but the smile on his lips quickly faded, despite you still being under his hands, where he most loved you to be.

"Hmm?" you prompted him, easily picking up on the sudden southward shift in his mood. "What is it?"

"S'nothin'..." His index finger tapped absently on your back.

"It's not nothing," you insisted gently. "Talk to me. What is it?"

"I just—I ain't gonna feel right at this thing. I never quite fit in here, in all these damn big houses with doctors and surgeons and lawyers. S'just—ain't a good feelin'."

"Mm," you nodded. "Okay. So... fuck this dinner then," you said seriously. Daryl's blue eyes shot up to your face again and you smiled at the disbelief there.

"What?"

You leaned in and said it in a conspiratorial whisper this time. "I said, Fuck. This. Dinner. You fit in best right here, with me."

Daryl's brow furrowed. "But... ya got all dressed up and—everybody's expectin' us to be there..."

You rolled your eyes. "I got dressed up for you and for me. Not for them. And luckily, you and I are both still here. As for them expecting us... who gives a shit? The only person that matters is right in front of me," you said with a smile. "Rick and our people will understand. Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner. Like I need to listen to Pete tell us that story about his hole in one for the fifteenth time..."

"Ya really mean it? Ya dun mind if we just skip the whole thing and stay home?"

You could already sense the tension leaving him. "I don't mind at all, babe. And if you carry me down to your bed right now, I can promise you that I doubly won't mind."

Daryl shook his head at you a little vaguely, his blue eyes slightly wide. "Yer amazin'." The next moment he scooped you up and headed toward the stairs down to his room. You let out a peal of laughter and draped your arms around his neck. "Fuck the dinner," he drawled, finally smiling again.

Prompt: "Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner."

[thegoogoomuckkk]

love love love the way u write especially Shoko!!!!

good samartian -> shoko is a good person. . .maybe not nice or the life of the party, but she’s a doctor, a good samaritan; so when she meets you who needs her help with something sensitive, she just has to say yes, whether you're asking for help or not

shoko was a big drinker, of course. but the thought of going out to a bar gave her a headache. especially when her drinking buddy options were gojo or. . .herself. neither were too appealing to her. but she’s making an effort to be nicer to gojo, call it a new year’s resolution or simply a life bettering notion. either way, she takes him up on his tenth offer of “please, please, please come out with me, shoko! i’ll pay your tab, & for your ride home, promise!” the bar is stuffy, the music is too loud, the led lights are hurting her head, & she’s not quite drunk enough for this to be worth it. gojo has already found some girl to take him & handed her a hundred dollar bill from his fat wallet. 

but when she spots her, her night starts looking up. she’s a little tipsier than shoko, but not blackout drunk by any means, & she’s just precious with her frilly pink dress & bows in her hair. it’s practically criminal for a grown woman to look so. . .innocent. she offers to buy her a drink & she just smiles & nods enthusiastically. 

“i don’t usually go out to bars much,” she smiles, “but i’m glad i did.” shoko thinks she might be flirting, but the girl seems so genuine that she really can’t tell. regardless, shoko’s glad she came out too. it’s after a few more drinks that shoko gets to enjoy the spectacle. she’s never met a girl who was so terrible at holding her alcohol. thankfully, she doesn’t puke, but when she attempts to stand to go home, she’s falling all over herself, tripping on her shiny heels, hiccuping about how she’s “gots ‘ta call a cab,” & it’s all slurred & drooly, & shoko finds it ridiculously endearing. 

so of course she’ll take her home, it’s the right thing to do. she couldn’t possibly send her into a taxi all by herself, let her find her way home alone. she’s hardly sobered up at all by the time the cab pulls into shoko’s driveway, & a knowing glint shimmers in shoko’s eyes as she helps her across the threshold of the door. she’s falling all over shoko, tripping over the bed, when she lets the fun fact of the night slip from her lips: “‘m a virgin,” she giggles. “go out ‘ta try ‘n find a guy, b-but just never do.” & shoko is so sympathetic, so sorry for her. a pretty girl like her deserves better than some asshole who probably won’t even make her cum. 

so she’ll make her feel good, she decides, fix this little problem for her because it’s what a good person would do, right? 

it’s easy, rolling her over on her stomach, delicately unzipping her dress & sliding it off & onto the floor. shoko is graceful in sliding her panties off & unclipping her bra, & she’s so gentle with her, so sweet because that’s just who she is. 

pinching her nipples, pulling her hair a little, making her arch all pretty-like before she makes her feel good because shoko deserves a little pleasure from teasing her, right? i mean, she is doing her a favor after all. some sick freak could come across her & take her virginity, but shoko’s not gonna allow that, no. she’ll take care of her. 

she’s a little questioning when shoko, pushes her head a little further into the pillows, bringing her knees up, but she shushes right up when shoko lays her tongue flat against her pretty pink pussy, fucking it in & out of her, kneeding the flesh of her ass, fingertips circling over her clit, & shoko chuckles, a little mean, when she whines, trying to say something but she just can’t form the words. 

“feeling good? s’good, wantcha to feel good, i’ll show you, sweetheart,” she sneers down at her, working her fingers into her virgin cunt, meeting a little resistance, but she’s just so wet for her & pliant & needy, practically begging for it as her moans are muffled by the sheets, & who is shoko to deny her what she wants? fingers pumping in & out of her cunt, sloppy kisses all over the backs of her thighs & ass. hitting that spot inside her that has her cumming all over her shoko’s hand, mewling about how foreign it is, how good it feels, & shoko’s glad to help, happy to make a sweet girl feel good because she’s just nice like that. 

fucking her with her dildo after she’s stretched her out because all the best girls deserve to get fucked, pushing it all soft & gentle into her weeping cunt, shushing her as she bleats out that it “k-kinda hurts, sho,” ‘cause she doesn’t need to worry about that, shoko will make her feel good. letting her cum all over shoko’s cock & she’s too fucked out to know the difference between a real dick & a silicone strap-on & she doesn’t care ‘cause it’s “so good, so good, f-feels so good, sho.” yeah, let it all out, shoko thinks, because shoko’s a good person & she just likes to make pretty girls feel good. 

sliding up her panties right after she cums & putting her dress back on, leaving her like that to wake up wondering why her panties are full of cum & she’s sleeping in a stranger’s bed feeling a little drunk still. shoko is a lot of things: rude, a little snotty, a gojo hater ‘til the day she dies, & sometimes just downright mean, but with her, she’s kind, she’s sweet, she cares.

I love YOU, anon <3 did you like it? -> here's my masterlist -> want something more? ask me for it

[hitlikehammers]

Steddie Post S4: If All That's Left of Steve in the Final Battle is Ashes—

...are they REALLY JUST ashes? 🔥 

The final battle—like the last part of the very final battle—ends with shattering, and with dust.

It starts, the first bad dream and the first bloody nose and the first Code Red on the radios: well, that’s three months into something, for the first time in Eddie’s sorry-ass-but-honestly-actually-since-almost-not-having-any-life-at-all-any-more-and-miraculously-making-it-through-a-night-then-a-week-then-a-month-then-rehab-then-chronic-pain-then-more-friends-than-he’d-ever-had-before-and-frankly-in-the-beginning-more-than-he-could-count-plus-three-new-mother-figures-and-two-maybe-three-extra-maybe-father-figures-plus-one-friend-of-Dorothy-who’s-the-platonic-soulmate-of-maybe-the-love-of-Eddie’s-not-actually-still-sorry-ass-life: he’s about three months into something wild and reeling in his chest, brushing hands and lingering looks and flushed cheeks and little secret smiles ducked in toward shoulders or behind stray curls, or falling asleep pressed arm-to-arm only to wake up in one lap or another, and the whole of it’s shameless and intentional and giddy somewhere low in Eddie’s belly because it’s not uncertain, it’s honestly just fucking bashful, it’s shy and it’s the both of them wordlessly leaning into it, careful but sure, and almost all the more buoyant for it.

It’s three months in, and when they step up to that last battle—that final turn, do-or-die—maybe Steve pulls him behind a truck Eddie doesn’t even know the owner of, where it came from or why it’s there; but maybe Steve pulls him behind and draws him close without a word and kisses him relentless, drags his teeth and draws a little blood for the force and leaves them both raw, and panting, and desperate: it couldn’t really go any other way, like this—here.

Now.

“Live through this,” Steve had breathed against his angry red lips, hard enough that it stung; “so we can pick up where we left off.”

“I will if you will,” Eddie had shot back, defiant; still begging.

And Steve had kissed him again, and Eddie’d watched as Steve walked away with the lightest smear of Eddie’s blood on his lower lip as he’d spoken:

“I’ll hold you to it.”

And they’d parted, to do their fucking jobs, to play their fucking roles. They’re come back together, ready to take the final boss down as a unit, and Eddie remembers that he’d felt hopeful, he’d felt so fucking relieved because this was it. They were gonna nail it, all for one, and—

So it might be near the end, actually—they may have almost done it, finished the job and killed every last bit of this hellscape, every beast big and small, crushed what’s left of the husk of Vecna orchestrating it all: it might happen near the end. Or maybe just shy of the beginning. Somewhere in the middle.

All Eddie knows is that it happens. There’s light, and people floating in the air and then more light, dragged back down by the same lightning-spark power, and it’s back and it’s forth and when it hits anyone, Supergirl pulls them back to the ground and fights back harder, her face blood red dripping to her neck, her teeth bared all wrath and fury, and then—

Then there’s something that shoots different, hits Steve and he doesn’t float. It looks different, so it probably is different, and he doesn’t float when it hits him.

And so: Eddie holds to the bargain.

But Steve.

Steve…Steve Harrington, with the bitchiest glare and the brightest smile and the goofiest laugh and the biggest fucking heart, the bravest of all of them and the best part of Eddie’s whole soul—

Steve gets hit, and disappears from the world in nothing but a cloud of dust.

No one tries to shush Eddie, when he screams, when he wails and sobs; drops to his knees and fucking howls.

No one tries to stop him when he crawls to the space that held his whole heart, and now lies empty, save a dusting of something almost shiny, coarse to the touch but fine to the naked eye, hard to distinguish from the dirt on sight alone—is that him? Is that his Sweetheart, all that’s left of him—

Eddie thinks maybe they try to stop him halfway through the way he starts frantically sweeping, scooping up the ash and filling every pocket he has with as much as he can. He vaguely feels a hand on his shoulder, maybe the sound of his name, but it’s all white noise because Eddie’s picking up the pieces of his heart, here, Eddie’s trying like hell to hold on to something of the man he loves and anyone who doesn’t like it, or thinks he’s crazy, or wants to rush him, ask him to leave any little pouch in any layer of his clothes unfilled, less than overflowing with all that remains?

Fuck them. Fuck them all. Because Eddie kept his side of the deal.

Live through this.

I will if you will.

And now he has to live with the way his Stevie…didn’t.

——

The rest of the Party sticks together after it’s done. Dustin is inconsolable, Erica and Max scowl in each other’s direction but not really…at each other. Mike’s having a weird…frenzy response, denying Steve’s dead at all and demanding Lucas help him get El to look for him, he has to be somewhere, he has be saveable like Max, like Eddie. Robin’s fucking catatonic—the real adults take most of the burden, trying to figure out who to call, because Steve’s their only casualty, the beating heart at the center of all this and it’s gone, no wonder they’re breaking—

The Party stays together. Eddie falls back on what he knows.

He runs.

Specifically: he runs home, carefully though, he can’t jostle his pockets, and he knows exactly where he’s looking when he gets to his room, crawls to the farthest corner of his closet in this still-weird-to-be-so-big bedroom after the trailer: and he finds it.

His mom’s old little hope chest.

There are a million little fake velvet pouches inside, a couple pieces of actual jewelry kept in an empty film canister, and then a smaller jewelry box type thing meant for a dresser or something: Eddie doesn’t think he can fill the hope chest.

But the rest…

He starts with the jewelry box, since it’s already empty, carefully cups his palms to fill it with the precious dust until the lid doesn’t close.

Then he sorts the pouches, puts aside the ones that don’t pull tight enough shut for his liking. The rest…those will be temporary. He’ll find a better home for the ashes soon, but for now they’re safe, and all that’s left is…

The film canister is special.

It’s stupid and plastic and like every other fucking black-and grey tube thingy that smells like vinegar on the inside of you hold it up too close. But this one—

He’s always gotten a little teary-eyed to think that this was the one his mother kept.

Because he’d poked a hole through the rough little peak in the top of the lid with a fork, took a piece of thread from the junk drawer and made himself a necklace to match the one she had and she’d smiled at him so bright, poked another hole next to his, and threaded his string-chain through the back of the lid so it’d close up tight, to keep all your most secret prized possessions, my sugarbean and he had. For years.

Now it held what was left of her jewels, mostly cheap stuff with sentimental worth he couldn’t calculate—but now he has to take the faulty pouches and give the jewelry a new home.

Now he’s never had something more prized and precious to keep.

He finds fishing line in Wayne’s stuff, stronger than the thread worn and aged over a decade and a half, swaps it out with the string. Covers the inside with electrical tape to make sure nothing can sneak out of the holes, even so.

And then he fills it. Last of the ashes, and it all only just fits but the lid pops on perfect.

Then he pulls it over his head, and lies down on his bed.

And fucking sobs when the canister falls to settle right over his heart.

——

Some of the kids try to coax him out, argue grief is better shared or whatever, but Eddie’s deaf to the knocking, the way they try to yell at his window—not even cracked open, he won’t risk a rogue bird or a stray breeze disturbing all he has left of his, his—

The kids go away, eventually.

Wayne finds out through the grapevine what’s happened—he comes into Eddie’s room and holds him even if Eddie doesn’t want it, doesn’t ask. He’s grateful, though, even if he doesn’t say it, and Wayne sheds more than one tear; he’d been warming quick to Steve, called him son.

That wasn’t something Wayne did lightly. Not that anything Wayne did was done lightly.

However many days pass, Eddie doesn’t keep track. He wakes and runs to the little box on his dresser, just to make sure it’s safe, clutching the film tube around his neck while he does, weighing it desperately until he can be sure the bulk of the ashes are undisturbed. The rest of his time is spent lying in his bed and rolling the little canister across his fingers, taking off all his rings so he can just…touch it. Be close to whatever lifeless pieces of Steve—and likewise, then: pieces of Eddie—remain anywhere at all. He passes the hours like that, largely. Sometimes he thinks he’s hungry, like his stomach aches in that pang kind of way, but thinking of eating in a world where Steve doesn’t breathe makes him sick every time, so he doesn’t follow through. Wayne pesters him to at least drink something, so he sometimes shuffles to the bathroom, or the kitchen, drinks from the sink because glasses are for people who make plans for the future, who intend to drink things over the course of a lifetime, a life maybe with a purpose, a purpose that—

Eddie throws himself back into bed again, every time. Presses his film-canister-talisman tight to his sternum until the hurt of the pressure blurs with bigger hurts, and ultimately blurs into black.

Until one day, he opens his eyes. And after he’s done with the subtle disappointment that he had to, that morning came at all; when he gets up and checks the box?

The lid’s flipped off.

And there’s a tiny pile of dusty ash, glittering next to it, when there’s no light in the room to even catch it.

Eddie’s heart drops, then seizes in his chest.

What the fuck. What the fuck.

No one comes in but Wayne, and he just pokes his head in. Nothing can get in, either, unless…but they closed all the gates, there is no Upside Down anymore—

Eddie’s hands are shaking as he tries to brush the little pile into his hands, pulse tripping when the thinks of what it is, inside his hands, and he carefully lets it sift back into the jewelry box, tries to judge if any’s been lost, closes the top when he starts breathing too heavy, when his anxiety threatens to make the situation worse as he tries to bend down and see the furniture at surface level, find any precious speck of—

Not a speck. Not a…mote.

The escaped ashes were on top of something, though. Something Eddie’s never seen before. About the size of a notecard but, kinda like…ancient, weathered; that yellowed look you can never fake just right, traced alone with…some kind of calligraphy out of fucking Camelot or some shit, metallic gold in script:

I cannot let you burn me up, nor can I resist you. No mere human can stand in a fire and not be consumed.  

The…fuck?

Eddie tries to squint, because the text is weirdly positioned; it does look like something’s worn off, and some of what’s actually there is brighter, bolder than the rest, and then there’s a whole other style, almost backward, like a mirror-image of handwriting, and Eddie lifts the card up to the mirror instinctively, only to see…

There’s writing on the other side.

Eddie’s breath catches when he recognizes the handwriting. Small, and more words than should be able to fit but…it fits. It’s dried blood in color, and Eddie’s not convinced it’s just a color for how it’s a little raised and flaky, but it doesn’t come off when Eddie touches it, traces it because the cramped little letters, tall and short all mixed and mismatched, so familiar, so tight in Eddie’s chest—

It’s…Eddie…

Eddie’s eyes skim the first few lines in Steve’s handwriting, and he cannot fucking breathe—

Hey, wow, that’s some crazy shit there on the other side of this piece of paper, my gran says it’s a warning even if I don’t personally get it, but I’m pretty sure it’s enchanted? The paper, I mean. The warning’s probably about being too close to…this, without being prepared. But that’s, whatever. Point is, I don’t think I can make new enchanted paper, so here’s the deal: First, thanks for grabbing the ashes? I didn’t actually expect anyone to do that. I hope it was intentional, like that you weren’t sweeping or the ash got stuck in your shoes or something, because intentional will make the rest of this way easier (hopefully, or like, maybe), and if you’re a part of the bigger Hawkins fuckery it’ll be way easier to believe at the least so, fingers crossed I guess but: I’m kind of a phoenix? Firebird? Thing? It’s a bloodline “curse” but especially since the, umm, incidents with the Lab I’ve been thinking maybe it’s actually kinda cool? Like insurance. But the extra fucked up thing is that someone has to grab the ashes without being, like, told to. Free will or some bullshit. And apparently we’re not a very spontaneously likable bunch of dungeons-and-dipshit-type creatures, because not many of us even get to re-birth ourselves. Because of the ash…thing. But you! You did that! And now I can do the rebirth thing! Which I hope is okay. There are a lot of, like, bond-type things that go along with the person who ‘cares selflessly to gather ash unbidden’—I think that’s what makes someone more than a ‘mere human’ consumed by the Fire and they won’t get burned, they’ll be…well, if they wanted. Bond-stuff. Not important. I’m not gonna hold you to any of that shit, like, nothing you don’t want to happen will happen because of this, I 100% promise. Except maybe I’ll do some over the top gestures of gratitude—and on the off chance you already know me, at all? Over-the-top is kinda how I do most feelings, so. Should not be a surprise. Only thing I will ask, and if it’s too much no worries, the whole resurrection shebang was a gamble from the get-go but, if you can just keep this pile of ashes safe for a little bit? It takes longer to heal based on how old you are when you, y’know. Kick it. So…yeah. I never learned how to come back as a baby because that sounded weird. Quicker, but weird. I only learned the slower way so I can just…come back how I left, like no time passed. But if you can keep the ashes safe until then that’d be totally cool. Anyway, thanks, whoever you are. Kinda owe you my life, here. I’ll show you the appreciation you deserve when I’m, you know. Not-ashes. Once I have opposable thumbs again and stuff. But really. Thank you. See you soon, hopefully (if that’s cool, I mean, I can get out of your hair ASAP too if you’d rather, just say so soon as I pop up)— ~SH

Eddie…falls to the floor at some point, nearly ripping the note, no: no, actually, he should have decimated it, macerated it the with the way his hands clench and his tears have fallen and made not a single mark: enchanted paper.

Ashes that…maybe are Steve?

That maybe mean Steve could come…will come back?

Eddie really can’t breathe, now, and when the black swallows everything, he’s still on the fucking floor.

——

When next he comes-to, Eddie splashes water on his face after he checks on the jewelry box, reads the letter again, clutches the ash-filled pendant in his hand as he drinks, considers eating—no.

No, not yet. His stomach’s still unsteady. His chest is swollen, pressed with something like hope for the impossible because what the fuck, first and foremost, but then, then…

There was a horrorscape under his feet for years before it came for him personally, before he almost died at its hands once, and then again by proxy when, when it took his…

His maybe-love-of-his-life-and-also-possibly-something-like-a-phoenix-who-might-be-coming-back-to-Eddie-which-would-mean-Eddie-could-keep-breathing-and-his-heart-would-be-returned-to-his-chest-by-the-hands-of-the-man-he-loves-because-he-thinks-it-died-with-Steve-but-if-Steve-isn’t-dead—

He basically almost died again when…maybe his Steve—who Eddie fully acknowledges at this point he’s absolutely fucking gone on with his whole heart and soul, because there’s no other real explanation for his total and complete shutdown as a human for the sake of Steve’s loss—when his Stevie died, but maybe didn’t.

But then now, now maybe…

Maybe the impossible could be something that saved them, saved him, instead of something that only sought to ruin.

Eddie doesn’t think he can believe he’s that lucky.

But it’s easier to entertain the possibility, than to continue just…knowing Steve died before Eddie could acknowledge with his everything that he—certified cynic and self-deceiving dumbass Edward Elliot Munson—was ass-over-ankles in love; and more than that: before he could tell Steve as much, because of anyone Eddie’s ever met, Steve Harrington deserves to know how impossible it is not to; how ineffably much he is loved.

“Hey,” Eddie ultimately finds himself curled up back in his bed again, clutching his film canister to his chest, tight enough to leave an impression on his skin.

He wants it to. Right over the way his heart slams against his ribs. He wants a bruise. He wants a scar. He wants inviolable proof.

“Umm, so I don’t know if this is real,” Eddie’s eyes flicker to the jewelry box of ashes, the strange potentially-enchanted note on his dresser; “or if it is, how this works?”

This apparently being talking to the cobbled together film-pendant around his neck, he…he’s so fucked, isn’t he, this is insane—

But it’s not like that’s ever stopped him before.

And before never had love in the mix. So.

“If you can hear me,” Eddie runs his thumb around the circumference of the cap, over and over; “I pretty fucking sure I’m in love with you,” and it’s maybe fucked up, how it feels as nervewracking to say it to a plastic canister of ashes as he imagines it’d feel looking into those stupidly-wide amber eyes, but yep: said plastic ash-pendant’d be fucking bouncing with his heartbeat if he wasn’t holding it so tight to the furious drumming of his pulse.

“I know it’s fast? But,” and Eddie swallows, shakes his head for reasons that are maybe about dispelling the idea that anything’s too fast or too much in the life they’ve led, one where more might be possible, where a future might still exist beyond all possibilities, all hope except for the fragile frail thing in Eddie’s chest written in blood red, in Steve’s hand on Eddie’s fucking bones:

“I don’t think losing someone hurts like this if your heart’s not in it all the way,” and that’s, that is…

That’s the crux of it, isn’t it. His heart is the heart of it.

“Sorry, about that, if you,” Eddie swallows, sour around the idea that maybe, even if the impossible’s possible, this part, where he feels like this, is just…maybe not too far but in the wrong direction.

But he wants to believe. He wants to think Steve saw something pointing in this direction when he told him to survive, so they could have, so they could finish, so they—them, together—could…

“Yeah.”

Eddie’s voice is hoarse enough to hurt, now, so he lifts his little film canister to his lips and presses them hard, sure: it’s weirdly warm against his mouth, held too close to his chest for too long.

Not long enough. Not close enough.

“Be careful about taking care of yourself, about, coming back and,” Eddie grips his pendant of ashes back tight to the center of his sternum;

“I’ll watch over it, watch over you,” he promises; “long as you need.”

And he breathes, holding the canister close before he brings it back to his mouth again and whispers to it like it matters, or…just in case it matters:

“Come back to me,” his words come out in a shudder, all trembling; “I’m just a mere human, maybe less than,” and that’s true, that is so fucking true but:

“But you already consume me,” Eddie speaks it honest, and kisses the rim of the cap— if there’s any chance of getting in, it’s there:

“So burn me up, as much as you need to,” and Eddie means it, he fucking means it with everything he is; “just,” and his voice cracks, and he shoves the canister back tight to his shaking heart when the first tear falls on it, covers it with both hands and cups it safe and damn-near painful as he whispers to whatever might listen:

“If any of this is real,” he barely fucking breathes: “please come back.”

He loses the battle for consciousness to his tears, but awake or asleep: he doesn’t once let go of the pendant pressed to his heart.

——

Eddie’s warm. Like, fell asleep in the sunlight, swaddled in a blanket, embraced and held and wrapped up in pure comfort warm.

“You’re more than a mere human,” a voice exhales right behind his ear: also warm, also comfort, also fucking impossible and he turns, frantic and even more so when he feels the lack of his film canister against his chest, and he tries to scramble for it but he’s…he’s held the whole time in strong arms that he knows, same as he knew that voice, same as it’s clear that he’s warm because he’s wrapped up in a body, tangled from the legs up with, with—

“How,” Eddie barely speaks, more mouths as that chest lifts, those lungs fill, that mouth curls warm and sweet and his Steve is watching him, those eyes so alive and then those strong hands are reaching for him, cupping Eddie’s cheeks and marveling like Eddie’s the wonder, here, like Steve isn’t lying in his arms like a full-on fucking miracle.

“You offered burning, and pledged your heart unasked,” Steve says it in this…this way that is exactly that simple, and exponentially more profound.

“That is some lore shit,” Eddie breathes out almost on instinct because…that’s some lore shit.

And Steve—Steve, his Stevie, wrapped around him and moving and breathing and being and definitely one-hundred-percent naked but that is totally irrelevant right this moment because Steve—

Steve laughs at him, soft and fond and god, god but Eddie thought he’d lost it. He was so sure, and his heart was so broken but now Steve’s heart is strong against his skin and Eddie can, he can…

Eddie can fucking breathe.

“I don’t think anyone expects our kind to be…cared about, like that,” Steve shrugs a little, and Eddie wants to protest because Steve Harrington isn’t only cared about, he is adored, and fuck anyone who says different, who so much as thinks otherwise—he wants to push the point, but Steve’s eyes are so intent, so saturated with feeling.

And fuck, but Eddie missed those eyes.

“Speeds the whole re-personing thing up, apparently,” Steve’s smile is a little wider before he shakes his head with a cute little toss of that hair.

“Old magic things,” he dismisses; “for later,” and then he draws Eddie back down close to his chest and snuggles him in so, so close.

“Tired,” Steve sighs a little into Eddie’s mess of curls; “and you need taking care of.”

And it’s…out of everything, the protective certainty in those last words are maybe the most unshakable proof that settles in Eddie’s chest and reminds the still-reluctant, still-too-scared parts of Eddie’s heart to commit and start back to beating because: only Steve Harrington is protective…quite like this.

“You’re really here?” Eddie whispers, wondering and hesitant all at the same time.

“Thanks to you,” Steve kisses Eddie soft, sure: taste strangely of smoke and cinnamon but underneath—all Steve.

His Steve.

He folds into Steve’s chest and just, fucking, clings.

“So fast,” Eddie mouths against Steve’s skin, because the heartbeat under his lips is almost indecipherable, one beat to the next. “And you’re so warm, are you,” Eddie props his chin up and looks up at Steve, anxious and flooding with worry before he sees Steve’s smile, still sweet and steady.

“Bird,” Steve drums his fingers against Eddie’s forearm, lightning quick; “fire bird, so,” and the heat makes sense then, too, as Steve wraps him up again tighter and sighs, satisfied as he envelopes Eddie’s frame.

“Also extra energy, I think,” Eddie listens to Steve’s words around his heartbeat through his chest; “like, I couldn’t make it past your kitchen but, I don’t know how I know it, but I know I can give some of it to you while it’s settling.”

Magic. Steve. Can share his phoenix magic. To take care of Eddie. Immediately after coming back from the fucking grave.

On brand, Eddie guesses. Jesus fuck.

“I am pretty damn positive I’m in love you with you, too, by the way,” Steve shakes Eddie back to his body, to the moment, to the soft sure way he breathes those words and kisses Eddie’s temple like Eddie’s pulse doesn’t trip around the sentence, the sentiment.

“Also thank you, for,” Steve adds, and drops another kiss while Eddie reels, floats in the moment of hearing the words, of knowing for sure, of feeling it: “for loving me, somehow, enough to,” and Eddie can imagine where that’s headed, the way Steve says somehow like an unthinkable thing.

And there will be none of that, so he stops it and kisses hard, wet, open-mouthed at the center of Steve’s chest, over his bird-flutter heartbeat.

“It broke me,” Eddie breathes there, cracked open and still raw; “I already mostly figured but,” and his voice breaks, and Steve pulls him closer, so warm, and the bird-heart-flutter feels more like full broad wings, majestic, almost embracing and ensuring Eddie of all things is safe, and kept.

And warm.

Fuck if Eddie doesn’t fall into the feeling, full body; whole heart and soul.

“If there was any question whether I already loved you with everything, the way I fell apart,” and Eddie just moans a little because there aren’t…he doesn’t have words for it at all, he—

“Let me put you back together?” Steve murmurs low in a way that’s so soft and gentle but trembles the marrow inside Eddie’s bones.

Timeless. Endless.

Eddie kisses Steve’s chest again and hopes Steve knows that means yes, and please, and forever.

Unequivocally.

“Could we maybe talk about that, um, bond stuff, that the letter…” Eddie eventually speaks muffled into the hair on Steve’s pecs, after soaking in the heat and pulse and realness of him.

“I meant it,” Steve murmurs straight into Eddie’s skin; “I’m not holding you to—”

“I want you to.”

Eddie did not for a second think or feel otherwise, from the moment he saw the words, before he even started to believe at all: his mind was filled with possibilities by those words. His chest was…

“You…” Steve nudges Eddie’s head up from his chest and studies his face, reads something in his eyes before his breath catches, this time; before his bird-pulse skips, something light and giddy against Eddie’s weight and Steve huffs, disbelieving but…maybe happy for it.

Maybe…maybe overjoyed, even.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, and leans to kiss Eddie full on the lips again, consuming: familiar for it.

“Yeah we can talk about that. But later.”

And then he settles Eddie back against him and wraps him in his bare skin, the still-radiant warmth.

“Now you sleep, and when you wake up, I feed you, you shower, you put on new clothes,” Eddie wrinkles his nose, doesn’t even know how many days it’s been since he cared for those things; abandons any shame for it when Steve feels him recoil and presses him closer, chuckles once and nuzzles his hair;

“Then I feed you again, and then,” Steve kisses his head once, and then twice, and then three times and Eddie feels it tingle through his goddamn veins like a vow, filled up with promise when Steve whispers, so alive:

“Then, we can talk.”

For @klausinamarink, who requested '"I cannot let you burn me up, nor can I resist you. No mere human can stand in a fire and not be consumed.”' at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST and also for @steddie-week for the Day Seven prompt 'Free Space'

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @lawrencebshoggoth @mensch-anthropos-human @micheledawn1975 @lumoschildextra @dotdot-wierdlife @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @grtwdsmwhr @eddie-munson-addict

divider credits here

ao3 link here ✨

[danika-redgrave124]

A Witchy Shopping Day

The bustling streets of the local market were alive with the chatter of merchants, the clinking of wares, and the enticing aroma of fresh pastries. Among the throng of shoppers were Yuu and Grim, flanked by Cerezo—a fully-fledged Umbra Witch whose very presence seemed to radiate sophistication—and Vil, who naturally drew the gazes of admirers like a magnet. Behind them, trudging dutifully under the weight of numerous shopping bags, were Ace, Deuce, and Epel.

"I don’t see why we had to be the ones carrying all this," Ace griped, shifting a large bag of potions and fabrics to his other hand. "Seriously, what do witches even do with this much stuff? Open a boutique?"

"Quit whining, Ace," Epel muttered, barely breaking a sweat under the weight of an ornate vase and several spellbooks. "This is nothing compared to haulin’ apples back home. You sound like a twig about to snap."

Deuce, on the other hand, walked with practiced ease, balancing several bags on his arms. "It’s not so bad. I used to carry groceries for my mom all the time. You just need to pace yourself."

"Oh, of course you’re fine with this," Ace groaned. "But my arms feel like they’re gonna fall off!"

"Perhaps if you spent less time complaining and more time moving, you’d find it easier," Vil interjected, glancing back at the trio with his signature air of unimpressed authority. "If you drop so much as a single bag, spud, I’ll ensure you don’t see the end of my next lecture."

Ace grumbled something under his breath, but the look Vil shot him quickly silenced any further complaints.

Ahead of the group, Yuu and Grim were inspecting a collection of enchanted trinkets laid out on a merchant's stall. Grim's eyes glimmered with excitement as he pointed to a jeweled charm. "Ooh, Yuu! Look at this one! It’s all shiny! Can we get it?!"

"Grim, focus," Yuu replied with a patient sigh, holding up a shimmering black brooch in the shape of a crescent moon. "We’re supposed to be looking for practical items, not things that catch your eye."

"Well, I think this one looks very practical," Cerezo remarked smoothly, his voice rich and lilting like a dark melody. He picked up the brooch and held it to Yuu’s chest, tilting his head appraisingly. "See? It complements your aura perfectly."

Yuu flushed slightly, brushing the brooch aside. "Cerezo, we’re not here for accessories."

"Ah, but what is an Umbra Witch without their style?" Cerezo purred, a sly smile playing on his lips. "I insist you take it. Consider it a gift from me to you."

Behind them, Vil let out a soft hum of approval. "Cerezo has a point. Presentation is everything. Perhaps I should assist in curating your wardrobe, Yuu."

Yuu groaned quietly, muttering, "Not you too..."

Meanwhile, Ace, Deuce, and Epel continued their trek behind the group, with Ace nearly tripping over his own feet as they stopped at yet another stall.

"Are we seriously stopping again?" Ace complained. "At this rate, I’m gonna need a stretcher to get back to campus!"

"Shush," Epel said, adjusting the bags on his shoulders. "If you keep whining, Rook’s probably gonna pop outta nowhere and make you carry his bags, too."

As if on cue, Rook emerged from the shadows nearby, his voice a theatrical whisper. "Ah, mon brave camarades! I see you toil under the weight of duty, such noble perseverance! Truly, a sight to behold!"

Ace jumped, nearly dropping his bags. "Gah! Rook! Could you not sneak up on people like that?!"

"Ah, but I must remain vigilant," Rook replied, his tone playful but his gaze sharp as it flicked to Vil. "Where beauty walks, danger often follows. I cannot allow my Roi du Poison to come to harm."

Vil waved him off with a sigh. "Your dramatics are unnecessary, Rook. Focus on blending in rather than drawing attention."

As the shopping continued, Cerezo paused, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. He turned to Yuu, lowering his voice so only they could hear. "By the way, I’ve secured something quite special from your dear headmaster."

Yuu raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What did you do?"

"Persuasion," Cerezo said with an elegant shrug. "Let’s just say Crowley and I had a... productive discussion. I took his card."

"You didn’t threaten him, did you?" Yuu asked, though the answer was obvious.

"Lightly," Cerezo replied with a wink. "Nothing he couldn’t handle."

Grim snickered. "Finally! Someone who doesn’t let that featherbrain off the hook!"

By the time they reached their final stop—a small café to rest—the three bag carriers slumped into their chairs, groaning in unison.

"I can’t feel my arms," Ace whined, rubbing his shoulders.

"You’ll survive," Vil said coolly, taking a sip of his tea.

Cerezo, ever the picture of poise, leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile. "Well, this has been a most delightful outing. Don’t you agree, Yuu?"

Yuu gave him a flat look. "Delightful for you, maybe."

Grim, munching on a pastry, chimed in, "Yeah, but we got food outta it, so I’m not complaining!"

Ace groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Never. Again."

Cerezo belongs to @fungifanart

[nonranghaes]

heads up: vague discussion of self harm (not depicted as happening during the drabble), fic primarily under a readmore as a result. vent fic.

“i told you, i’m fine.”

no matter how many times you say it, chris isn’t going to believe you. and this time you’re honestly happy for it. you have barely left your bed today, and half an hour ago (before chris had come home) was when you hit a breaking point. now your face aches too damn much, your palms still stinging. the cold washcloth helps, though, as chris gently runs it over your face.

“you don’t have to lie to me,” he says softly. he takes your face into his hands for a moment, your skin still damp and shiny in the low light. “you don’t have to talk about it if you aren’t ready or don’t want to, but you don’t have to lie.”

you avert your eyes. “sorry.”

“it’s okay,” he kisses your forehead. “i’m not going to run away just because you’re struggling.” he sets the washcloth on your nightstand. “hopefully it won’t bruise, yeah? anywhere else i need to take care of?”

there’s one spot, but the shame in your chest keeps you quiet. a sniffle breaks through that silence, and you curse your lack of resolve. “i messed up.”

chris pulls you into his arms, already gently shushing you. “remember what dr. kim said?”

there’s no straight roads when it comes to mental illness. you’ll struggle and fall back into previous behaviors and thoughts. “it doesn’t erase my progress,” you say quietly.

“it doesn’t,” chris affirms. “you had a really bad day. that’s okay,” he kisses the side of your head. “it’s gonna happen. what’s important is that you eventually get back up and keep going, even when its hard.”

hot tears roll down your cheeks, and you bury your face in his chest to hide them. he starts to rub slow circles into your back as you cry.

“okay?” he curls around you, just to keep you safe and warm in his embrace. “you’re gonna get back up. you’re stronger than you think you are. i know you are, even if you can’t see it right now.” chris draws back just enough to see your face one more time. “so i’ll see it for the both of us until you can, too. okay?”

with a hiccup and a shaky nod, you try to breathe. “okay,” you say. when he brings you back into his arms, you just snuggle in.

maybe one day you’ll shine as bright as he does.

[traffic-light-eyes]

lloyd hcs? i wanna hear them ALL

Oh boyyyy here we go. I think my LONG Lloyd headcanon post is still one of my top posts, so you can check that out there. I already know this is gonna take a while, so strap in. Dunno if I'll get to all of them or not because I still need content for the future, though.

He's a hungry kid. Always hungry. They don't know if he's having some belated puberty thing where he's hungry 24/7 365 or if it's just his heritage, but he's just. Starving. He gets shy about it, though, even when he knows that his friends would never belittle him because of it. He'll just shyly and slowly push his plate towards Zane and look at him with his big puppy eyes and a pout and Zane can do nothing but give him what he wants (you're spoiling him, Zane. - What would you do in that situation, Cole? He looked horribly pathetic, and I couldn’t do anything but give him another slice of pie.)

He is either chronically online or he has 0 knowledge of the internet. No in-between. For chronically online, his vocabulary mostly consists of tiktok references, and you can definitely hear Zane crying in the distance because he doesn't know what Lloyd is saying. For 0 knowledge of the internet, Jay and Kai make jokes and references to tiktok/reddit/Twitter/etc. and when Lloyd doesn't understand (and subsequently tilts his head like the adorable dragoni he is), you can hear Jay crying in the distance and the soft shushing voice from Nya as she tries to calm him down.

He will steal all shiny things. Shiny rock on the ground? Yoink. Jay left a particularly sparkly bolt on his desk? Well, it's Lloyd's now. Loose change on the counter? He'll take the shiny ones, thanks. He doesn't use the money. He just owns it. When Garmadon came back and saw his stash of sparkly things, he was like, "Ah, so you did inherit some of my genetics. I was getting a bit worried."

Contrary to popular belief, he doesn't own many plushies. Just one. It's a little stuffed tiger with half-off eyes and practically tearing at the seams. Kai won it in a claw machine for him back when he was a kid, and he will not part with it nor have any alterations to it no matter what. It's his and it has survived all the fires in the monastery, the crashes of the bounty, and the angry throws at the wall when Lloyd is mad (he immediately picks it back up and cries for throwing it). He remembers each mark, each missing patch of fur, every scratch on it stupid beaded eyes, and he treasures it. Because his brother got it for him.

He bought Jay a Hatsune Miku body pillow.

He's not a very good gift-giver, actually. If it was December, and he was tasked with some white elephant something he would perish at the spot. So, to combat that, he buys trinkets and things that remind him of his friends or things that he thinks that they'd like, and during the holiday or birthday, all he has to do is stuff it in a bag and put a bow on it. During the missions where they miss the holiday/birthday or if they're not close to his stash of presents, he gets really upset because he can't show them how much he loves them because nothing nothing can compare to the year of scouring shops and finding that cute little spoon engraved with Zane's initials that he found in a thrift store.

More of the gift giving: he's bad at showing affection or just verbally saying that he loves his friends, so he does the neurodivergent thing of just. Giving them pretty rocks or, like, soda tabs. Cole was horribly touched by the rocks, and now he has a shelf full of Lloyd rocks. Sometimes, to calm down, Lloyd and Cole paint the rocks. There's a cute collection of ninja look-alike rocks sitting next to their photos. When Lloyd was younger and everyone started gunning for his affection, Kai got a bunch of jars and wrote everyone's names on them. The person with the most soda tabs by the end of the year would have won the "Lloyd's favorite" award. The thing is, though, they never stopped doing it. When Pixal joined the crew, she was surprised to find herself a jar with her name on it with a purple soda tab.

Speaking of Pixal- a little after she joined, she realized that Lloyd had not finished school. When she had asked about it, she was told Wu was teaching him. She searched more to find out exactly what he was being taught. Lo and behold, it was exclusively ninja things or ancient, ancient history. And much to Lloyd's annoyance, she immediately stormed up to him and got him learning some algebra. She was not going to let him live his life without schooling. When she realized that he was having a lot of trouble with high school mathematics (because she had assumed that he was in the highschool age), she slyly went lower and lower in the education scale just to see where he left off. She was horrified to find he had not exceeded 5th grade math. No more than 5 minutes after his daily lesson, all of them (save Lloyd) had a nice, long conversation about his age and his schooling. She made it her life duty that Lloyd became one of the smartest gosh darned people in Ninjago.

On a lighter note, Jay and Nya sometimes have robot battles for fun. But. Not aggressive or combat related. They make robots do silly tasks like planting a flower or making a sandwich. They always make Lloyd judge who did it better because he has 0 clue the mechanics behind it, and he doesn't pick favorites. (Even if he's not trying to be his father anymore, he loves stirring up chaos by making each of them never truly beat each other by a lot)

He had a lisp as a kid. He didn't know it at the time, but it was because his mouth was unfamiliar with his sharp teeth. It makes him speak funny. For a while, he just didn't speak at all because he was embarrassed when the other darkleys kids made fun of him. He toughened out, though, and sat in his room, reading out loud to himself (occasionally with his kind roommate and friend Brad helping him) to correct his speech. To this day, he sometimes messes up words because he doesn't have proper speech therapy. But it's just another cute Lloyd thing to the team.

Mkay. I only did a few for just in case someone else asks for Lloyd stuff

[divine-misfortune]

I’m here to spread propaganda

- “I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over all the noise you were making.” (Someone write an enemies with benefits to this I beg) 

Toxic old man yaoi w alpha and air

It was a good thing the practice rooms had been soundproofed well before the Ghost project began, when it was still an inkling of an idea in the back of someone's head. Doing so saved the residents of the abbey from having to hear the same section of the same tired song over and over, played too sharp or too clumsily, over and over but more importantly it saved Air the humiliation of anyone hearing his low rusty growl pitch into a feeble, needy sound.

He dug his claws into the foam paneling Alpha kept him against, at least it was softer than the wall beneath it even if it didn't make the position any more comfortable. It was awkward at best but Alpha had seemingly committed to keeping him there - facing the wall with his arms braced against it, slightly bent at the waist, feet apart, Alpha's hips firmly pressed to his ass. Air knew his back would ache but voicing the complaint to Alpha was pointless. Wasting his breath. The fire ghoul had a rough, calloused hand wrapped around the length of his cock and Alpha would just tell him to be grateful for the little kindness he allowed him if he tried.

Air swallowed his pleasured sigh with a bit of effort but choked when Alpha squeezed him around the base. Stroking slowly from root to tip. Air groaned and let his head hang, watching the shiny red head disappear into Alpha's fist. Milking an embarrassingly large bead of pre from him where it dripped onto the wood.

"Look at that..." Alpha mumbled, thumbing over his slit as another pearl began to form. When he pulled his digit away, pre stringing between it and his dick for a split second.

"Don't" he cut in before Alpha could go on one of his tangents, happy to spew filth until Air required a boiling hot shower to feel clean again. He didn't think he could stand it this time. "Don't you fucking start, you degenerate-"

Even without looking, he could feel the way Alpha rolled his eyes.

"Or what?"

"I'll-" Air lifted his head and tried to push off the wall. It was hard to be taken seriously like this, he knew that, and Alpha knew that.

He couldn't get far. Alpha wouldn't let him regain dignity, not when Air had already relinquished it to him when he allowed the fire ghoul to force him to the wall without any real protest. A lack of arguing was the closest they ever got to outright permission.

Like he were trying to snuff out the very spark of objection, Alpha closed a hand tight around his throat with a gentle shushing noise like he were quieting a crying child. That was almost the most shameful part, but the short whiny sound that Alpha managed to squeeze out of him - choking off his oxygen while twisting his fist up his cock at an agonizing pace - that was the most mortifying part.

It shouldn't have wrenched such a pathetic noise out of him so easily but Alpha chuckled lowly, pressure on his windpipe still not letting up. He was learning how to play the air ghoul far too well.

“I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over all the noise you were making, tell me again, what're you gonna do to stop me?"

[bedroom-dreams]

All of you drives me insane

♡ Pairing: Jay (Enhypen) x afab!Reader

♡ Genre: Smut (lovey-dovey)

♡ Warnings/Listing: sex, body-worshipping, boob play, dirty talk

♡ Word Count: 1.049

♡ A/N: i hope you like it! I put in a lot of work and quite a number of changes were made, however it is finally here.

It is a known fact. Cold winter evenings are to be spent under the blankets with your lover. What else is needed besides the infectious heat and affection from him?

The sun was already saying its goodbyes behind the dark clouds, the promise of rain and no outsider matters accomodating Jay even closer to your frame. You had already spent hours in bed, you had conversed, given yourselves to each other, slept and now you were in a shush. Your face on his neck, legs entangled and his left arm over you, securing its ancestral place on your waist and caressing the fuck out of it with the hands he was gifted with. The matress under you and the blanket on top made for a bed of clouds as your breathing and heart compassed the same.

“Do you even know how perfect you are?” He said, making you look up at his face, with his sudden words. This was a conversation he began at least every 9 days. “You probably know this but all of you drives me insane.”

All the honey he ate must have intoxicated him, making its way to the his words. And he was dead serious too. However, his eyes were focused on you chest. The most romantic, the one and only Jay. “Do you even know where my eyes are?” You inquiered. A little playfulness never hurt nobody.

Jay instantly sat up and looked down at you with a defiant smile on his lips. The blanket that covered him fell down just a little bit, but your eyes shamelessly reacted, quickly peeking at whatever skin was now uncovered.

“You little pervert!” Jay jumped on you and held your face in his big hands. “Here is where your bewitching eyes are” he said before kissing both of your eyelids, first the right and then the left. The tickling sensation sprout a smile from you which was nothing but a green sign for him. If you had any doubts regarding the chef-d’oeuvre you were, they were now going to be obliterated.

“This is where your neck is” and with exagerated passion he kissed your neck once before smelling the perfume he had gotten you on a trip years ago. This had you shaking your legs with its tingles, and, wanting to prolongate the moment, Jay moved his hands to your sides, gently squeeshing you to him, strong enough for you to know he wasn’t gonna let go but with the care of an anthophile holding its most beloved rose. Your lover lowered his face down to your collarbone, which recieved as much attention. But right after, his lips hovered over your heeving chest. You could feel every cell that made up your body and every nerve on your skin, for his breath softly killed you inside and the promise of his lips, plump and shiny, on you again edged you to a fall only he could provide. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

You reciprocated with your eyes. There was nowhere else for you to be. If he asked you to bring him the world you would have done so, nothing to lose now that you had found him. 

With his sweet eyes furrowed in concentration, one little kiss was placed on each of your nipples as he fondled your breasts with all the love he would give only to you.

“I have no words.” He whispered. As sure as he was he also felt nervous. The last thing he wanted was to ruin this moment, but you loved him, and he knew he needed only as much, so he let himself touch, lick, caress, kiss, brush indulging in what he no longer had to indulge. After having you countless times, Jay had lost all sense of the shame that comes with being exposed in intimacy. You, he would always trust. 

Your eyes locked and your breathing became irregular and without realising it, every exhalation sank your body further. He then lowered himself even more to kiss your abdomen with a longing calmness. He had you under control, and all he had had to do was send pretty words your way.

You were still looking at him, after all was there anything else more worthwhile than him?

“Jay” nothing more than a whisper came from your lips but he didn’t notice. He kept on going down down. 

…Four, five, six, seven, it took eight kisses to your core. Long, wet and paralising kisses. Number one had been on your sternum. Number three had been perfectly placed on your navel but number seven on your mound of Venus.

“My weakness.” And he smiled from between your legs.

Unbearable. 

“Jay” this time it was a whimper. For him. For him to act, to take you once again, as if it was your last. The stormy world outside of your window heightening the rushes of electricity through your skin.

Jay’s long hair now covered his eyes and so you reached to move it, which made the man smile and kiss your thigh. You closed your legs subconsciously at the touch, or at least tried to because mister Park did not let go of your knees.

“Are you gonna deny me my sweetness?” He tilted his head with a smile on his face.

No response. It wasn’t really needed. So he pushed your legs open. In the course of your relationship he never pushed. He never took any liberties, forgot any boundries. Again, the most romantic, your one and only Jay. The man of your dreams, and now he wanted you in a way many had wanted you before but only he had gotten in the sway of a hand. And in this case, the lick of a clit, yours to be exact.

After opening you to him again he reached for your hands and held them with his by your sides.

You bit your lip not finding any other way to relieve the tension. Catching notice, Jay lift himself up and once again your breathing mixed before he kissed your lips. 

And so for the rest of the day and night you didn’t move from the bed. The city’s temperature lowering, giving way for time, as you showed each other what the rest of your lives where going to be.

♡ A/N: how was it? I hope ur having lovely holidays ❄️