#filled the mini fridge with a lot

[awkwardnerdylesbian]

cleaning the backyard and found broken eggs. now either it’s a possum stealing them or one of my dumb hens is deciding to lay her eggs behind the coop in the tall grass.

[dreamieparadise]

Can I know more about the mafia highschool au? Like is it a normal school with just a bunch of mafia kids or is there an actual mafia curriculum? What was Momo's reaction when she found out she was pregnant? Is Mimi still the Rat King? Curious minds would like to know 🥺💜✨

Djkdkd it piqued your interest, huh? x'D

It's an actual mafia hs! 90% of the people there are mafia affiliated, and in order for outsiders to be brought into the school, they have to be sponsored by a current student! The current student has to vouch for the outsider's capabilities and also take responsibility for them. For example, Reborn sponsored Miruku! He is now a mentor figure to him and is guiding him to be what he feels is a splendid mafia member. [The thing is, everyone here are teens, so while the arcobaleno are still powerful, they aren't as experienced or cool headed as their adult counterparts! Reborn, in this au, isn't as gentlemanly towards femme presenting people! It's something he works more towards later. He still treats them better than male presenters but thats because he is a misandrist. Another example: Fon has a temper!!!]

The one who sponsored Momina is actually Luce! Luce is a great help to Momina due to both of them being spiritually inclined. However, with how Colonello [and Lal] are... they, of course, decided to snatch Momina away and also force teachings onto her. Luce is still Momina's actual mentor, though!

The blood, sex and violence are ramped up in this school. It's normal for students to be killed by other students [Squalo just murdering Dino's bullies because they were in the way, for example...] so this kind of pushes people into confessing, having sex, etc. They feel they can die any time so YOLO!!!

I like to think there is actually a mafia curriculum on top of the normal curriculum. "All the ways you can poison someone", "espionage", etc. They get sent on missions...

Momina has major brainrot!!! She was so happy to be a mother while married to Hayato. [Yeah... they got married while underage. Yeah, Hayato forced religious leaders to allow the marriage to happen... Momina thought it was so sweet! She just said don't threaten them in the house of God!! Him complying was endearing! :) ]

It's so funny because Jojo was like "Luce does not approve of them moving so fast while so young" LIKE SHE WASN'T ALSO PREGNANT DJDJDJD difference is Luce claimed her husband Roberto as her husband when they were 5 so it's Totally Different. [Luce's reasoning, probably!]

LET THE RAT KING MIMI GO

Mimi is kind of one?? He was wandering the sewers for Cavallone lost treasure, and Dino went with him...he complained every step of the way until Mimi actually found it. Dino is now convinced Mimi is a lucky charm and brings him places, btw.

I could keep going, but let me stop here!!! 😭✋🏾

[kurooh]

HAIKYUU BRAINROT.

☆ includes: timeskip! miya atsumu, miya osamu, oikawa tōru, kageyama tobio, semi eita, sakusa kiyōmi, kuroo tetsurō.

☆ warnings: 18+ content, f! reader, drug use [weed], oral (f&m receiving), lingerie, cream pies, dirty talk, slightly rough sex, praise, being tied up, blindfolds, mirror sex, 69, food play, shower sex, not proofread.

waiting in lacy lingerie for atsumu the day before his birthday, rose petals strewn around the floor and leading to the bedroom. your skin illuminated by the soft candlelight of the bedroom, the lingerie accentuating every inch of your body. he gets home, kisses you, fingers you until you cum, whining his name. he reaches towards the nightstand, remembering to use a condom, but you stop him, tell him one of his gifts is going raw. excited, he pushes into you, and doesn’t last long. all he can think of is filling you up, using the cum as lube to keep going.

when the restaurant is vacant, and it’s just you and osamu, he sometimes loves to have dessert. more specifically, you for dessert. you take a can of whipped cream, specially tucked away in the very back of the office mini fridge for moments like these. you make swirls on your nipples, make a sloppy heart on your pelvis. eagerly, he sucks onto your nipples, biting and kissing each as his tongue makes quick work of the cream. then, he kisses down your body, staring at you hungrily as he licks your pelvis clean. he fingers you as you shakily make new designs on your skin. he takes your clit between his lips and sucks, savoring the taste. he thinks you’re sweeter than any kind of dessert.

you run to eita after his performance at a concert, grinding on him ever so slightly when you hug him, squeezing your tits together when you ask why he’s pissy. “get the hell in the dressing room,” he hissed, grabbing your hand tightly and dragging you along. a small breeze rushes up your skirt, brushing against your bare pussy. he pushes you in, turns to lock the door, and turns back to you. you jump onto him and kiss him; he catches you, and stumbles towards his cluttered desk with the lit mirror. with one arm, he sweeps everything off and places you down, yanking up your skirt to eat you out. he buries himself between your thighs, fingering and sucking and licking roughly, just the way you like it. your back arches when you cum, and you moan loudly, but he tells you to be quiet as he picks you up again and presses you against a nearby wall. he lifts your skirt again, yanks his pants down, and presses into you quickly. eita tucks his face into your neck, fucking you hard. his pelvis rubs against your clit as he fucks, causing you to cum on his cock — your orgasm spurs on his own, and though you were both supposed to be quiet, you cum loudly together. with you, he can’t even think about how he’ll have to play everything off with his friends when he steps out.

tōru takes a hit of the pen, slapping your ass and squeezing it as he exhales the smoke over your back. it’s warm and smooth, a contrast to how hot and rough he’s fucking your pussy. your eyes water as your mouth dries up, the heat of arousal itching all over inside your body. he passes it to you, and all you can do is grip it and the sheets as he groans, his eyes falling shut as he grips your hips and listens to the sounds of his balls smacking against your clit, his hips slapping into your ass. “that’s perfect tōru, that’s just how i want it,” you babble, your mind racing with thoughts of him. being high together is occasional, and it’s always some of the best sex with him. he gets off on praise, even more so when he’s high, his loud groans breaking into tiny moans as you cry his name. “you feel s-so good, i love it when you fuck me like this, please don’t stop,” you push your head down into the sheets and raise your ass against his hips more, arms shaking. he collapses onto your back with a wheezy sigh, moaning loudly as his cock pumps all of his cum into you. he always cums a lot, and harder, when he’s high; he cries into your shoulder as you weakly throw your ass back onto him, a signal to keep going.

water rushes over your lower back and ass as you scoot forward, closer to tobio’s thighs. his tip bumps the back of your throat and you fight a gag back, taking him as deep as you can. your lips are wrapped around his base, long strings of spit leaking from your lips; the water washes it away. “mmm, fuck,” he hisses, his hand cupping the back of your head as he tries his best not to slip. “you feel so good.” he pushes you into his pelvis, yanks you back and then down again steadily. he’s always loved fucking your face like this. gasping, his body curls forward, over your head, and he can’t hold himself back as his free hand grips onto the shower curtain. his cock slams down your throat, the feeling so tight your eyes can only water as you let out gurgly moans around his wet cock. when he cums, he holds you down against him, whining curses at the way you greedily swallow all of it. somehow, he doesn’t pull the shower curtain down. when you pull back, he kisses you immediately, tongue meshing with yours. tobio loves tasting a little bit of himself on your tongue.

one night, you and kiyoomi decide to try something new. he ties you up to the bed, your legs spread, your pussy wet, and a silky black blindfold wrapped around your head. you hear the sounds of clothes being folded and placed onto the bed in front of you, and you twist helplessly. “omi, i fucking need you.” he sighs shakily, “of course, my love.” seeing you like this is beyond hot; he’s been dreaming of you looking like this for him. he grabs his cock, and guides his tip to your wet pussy. he slowly rubs his tip through your sticky folds, gasping as he watches you try to jerk your hips forward in a futile attempt to get him inside you. feeling his cock grow harder, kiyoomi keeps the tease going for a little longer until he decides he can’t take it anymore and pushes inside you. he presses inch by inch inside you, his hand landing on your pelvis with his thumb pressed to your clit. “fuuuck!” you feel like screaming at him, begging him to fuck you senselessly, desperate for his cum and all the pleasure he has to give. instead, you rein yourself in a little. “kiyoomi,” there’s something dark and demanding in your voice, even though you’re tied up. wasn’t he in control here? “yeah?” he develops a quick pace, gritting his teeth every time his tip hits the deepest parts of you. “i want you to fuck me until—shit!—until i’m screaming.” “you know i will,” is all he can say as he grips your hips and ruthlessly slams into you.

you look ahead through lidded eyes, into the mirror and at your obscene reflection. you’re on top of tetsurō, his cock stuffing your mouth as the rest of your body shakes in his grip. he yanked your ass down into his face, sucking your clit harder as two of his fingers thrust in and out of you. one of his large hands grips your hip, his nails digging into his skin more as you deepthroat him, leaving crescent moon indents in your skin. you watch as spit drips down his cock, down his balls, onto the towel below you. you feel your orgasm nearing, your pleasure climbing quickly when he mercilessly sucks your clit. he had told you before: “watch yourself in the mirror as we cum together.” you agreed, doubting you’d cum with tetsu. he said, “good girl.” and then pulled your pussy down to his mouth. moaning on his cock while he moans into your pussy, you feel the familiar heat blaze through the entirety of your lower body. you also feel his cock tighten, then begin to pulse as he cums hard in your mouth. as you cum on his fingers, jerking your hips back, you catch a quick glimpse at yourself in the mirror; spit covers your lips, your hair is mussed, and you look so unbelievably fucked out, drunk on tetsurō.

[luveline]

also if you’re still taking requests for some established relationship criminal minds fics…

could i possibly get spencer and his bombshell when she’s having issues with not getting as hungry as she usually does? like she eats her fill but her fill is less food than she normally eats? this is very self indulgent so feel free to skip 🙏

thank you for requesting <3 bombshell, fem

“Spencer, lovely?” 

Spencer believes that only occasionally do you use your powers of seduction against him. This stringing of words, Spencer, his name, rolling off of your tongue, and lovely, so quaint and said so nicely, how you’ve called out, that’s unintentional. That’s pure niceness. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, getting up to find you. 

The point of you staying at Spencer’s apartment is to see you, why isn’t he seeing you? (Dramatic. He invites you to spend time here because you want to and he wants you, and whatever you do while you’re here is fine by him.) 

You’re in the kitchen peeling fruits. A whole fruit salad, green and red apples cut in small slices like prep for an apple-sugar crumble, peeled tangerine, strawberries, pear, grapes. “Nothing is wrong,” you sing-song. “Wait, why do you think that?” 

“No reason.” He sweeps as much of your mountain of peels and off cuts into his hand as he can and carries it to his mini compost bin. This’ll take some time. “You did call me, though?” 

“Yeah, I want your opinion.” You slice through another strawberry.

Spencer cleans the last of the peels away, rinses his hands, and creeps up on you. “Why are you drawing this out? Is it an important question? Don’t be nervous,” he says, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Your shoulder is soft where he presses his nose. 

“It’s not important, I just wanna know if you think it’s okay to melt some chocolate and drizzle it over the fruit. Is that greedy? Am I gonna go into a sugar overload?” 

“That’s not greedy.” Spencer laughs softly, kissing your cheek. 

You pull away from him, but only to look at him with your own smile. It’s one he’s starting to know rather well, the I love you smile, fond and indulgent at once. It makes you look like you’re gonna pinch his cheeks. 

“You’re hungry, right?” you ask. 

“Yeah, I am.” It’s a lot of fruit. Spencer doesn’t know exactly why he says it at that very moment, but he suggests, “How about we make a little pot for fondue instead. That way if we don’t eat it all now we can put the fruit back in the fridge.” 

“You just want me to feed you,” you tease. 

Spencer hadn’t thought about it, but the image is a pleasant one. “Fondue was invented purely for dessert purposes at first, no seduction involved.” 

“Let’s involve it anyway.” 

He grins. “Before or after we eat?” he asks lightly. 

You tell him before in a way that reminds him that you aren’t just his best friend but his twin flame, drawing him close to you, your hands fragrant with orange rind and the sweet strawberry juice staining your fingertips. You take his face into your hands as he holds your waist, and when you kiss him, he smiles the entire time. 

“It wasn’t just chocolate,” he says, pulling away. “It was cream and cherry liquor, too.” 

“We should try it one day.” 

Spencer resists the urge to grab your face and squeeze your cheeks. “Yeah, we will.” 

He melts some chocolate and heats a small round dish in the oven. He pours the chocolate into the dish and you, impressed, sing his praises as you make some lemonade slush in the blender. It’s a fresh, cold snack for a warmer day. You take it in the living room with the window wide open and the drapes drawn back, sunshine at your feet. 

Spencer pulls you into his lap as much as you’ll allow him on the couch, the coffee table dragged to be in front of you, the TV remote held hostage under your arm. You dip a slice of apple into chocolate and offer it to him.

Spencer accepts it. He finds, as the bowl empties, the chocolate cools, that you don’t seem to eat very much. He slows his grazing in case he’s being greedy, but after what could only be a handful of fruit you’re done, curling into his side and hugging his leg. Your attention is on the TV but your legs wiggle restlessly.

“Is something on your mind?” he asks. 

“I don’t feel very hungry.” 

“That’s okay. It was a lot of fruit, angel, we can wrap it up.” 

“I feel like my appetite is awful lately,” you lament, sitting up to tip back across his lap, your shoulders to his thighs, looking up at him with a frown. “Do I look like I’ve lost weight to you?” 

Spencer holds your cheek. “I haven’t noticed anything, are you worried?” he asks, rubbing the softest part of your cheek with his thumb. 

“I guess it’s not a bad thing?” You wince. 

“It’s not a bad thing if you don’t feel hungry, but you need to eat. Maybe we can just switch to some dense food for a while. Protein bars and nuts, stuff like that.” Spencer leans down to tap your noses together. You laugh under your breath. “Do you want to lose weight?” he asks, frowning. 

“Not really. I’d prefer not to.” 

“Okay, good. You’re perfect like this,” he says. “We can just make sure you get your intake through whatever means necessary until we figure out what’s changed. Maybe you’re just changing. We can start having smaller meals throughout the day. It’s better for digestion.” 

You reach for a curl, twisting it around your fingers. “I have an appetite for you, at least.” 

“That’s corny,” he says. 

“You love it, though.” 

Spencer pushes the ‘diminishing appetite’ search results from his head. He can worry later, when you’ve been well and thoroughly kissed. 

[hyperballart]

last nite

art donaldson x patrick zweig x reader !

art and patrick aren’t exactly subtle, and you are the push they didn’t know they needed.

(18+ pls!!)

author’s note: that one bitch (me) who doesn’t play about homoerotic friendships… this is mostly artrick but they all get nasty trust!

the swishing of the cheap beer from art’s mini fridge overlaps the song playing from the radio. it was something you recognized from this new york band you really liked—your friend had gifted you that record for your birthday a few years prior—you hummed out the tune as you sat on the desk chair of your friend’s dorm room, periodically lifting your gaze to the two boys also sharing the space.

you and patrick met at a local band’s show, that same night ended with you being pushed into the dark bathroom of the bar it was held at and you nearly swallowing each other’s tongues. he whispered into your ear about how good you tasted, how nice your ass felt in his hands, how fucking sexy you looked dancing out there. and after he bent you over the sink to get a taste of your sweet cunt and you returned the favor, the brunette gave you his number—it surprised you, that he wanted to continue seeing you and maybe take it further. it wasn’t until a couple hangouts that you met art.

he was by definition a good boy. always respectful and cordial around you, sweet, and even bashful at times. you coincidentally attended the same university—even shared common friends other than patrick. the three of you became well acquainted quickly. movie nights in art’s dorm when patrick came to visit, night drives to the beach, it was all simple and fun.

of course you and patrick hooked up whenever he came around, which seemed to frequent as he was on a month-long break from tour. on one of those particular nights, as you were riding him, somehow the topic of art came up.

“saw him at practice last week,” you take his earlobe between your teeth and slightly tug, “he’s really good.”

patrick stutters his hips and unwillingly twitches inside of you, as if images of his best friend playing flashed through his brain in those few seconds, “fuck, yeah he’s always been good.” his brain is too foggy to comprehend that he’s given away something you’ve been suspecting for a while—and you’ll keep digging to find what you really want.

you look down at him on the bed and notice how his mouth has dropped a bit further and his eyes become more slanted, you push your fingers into his mouth which he automatically starts to suck, and you ride him until he’s whimpering around them and filling you up. you’ll get something else out of him soon.

the next time happens to be the night right after, you’re at your favorite ice cream place and decide it’s the right time to keep prodding.

“you and art—you seem pretty close—how long have you known each other again?” you scrape the sides of your cup from the melted treat and look at him eating his.

“well, we went to boarding school together,” patrick speaks with some waffle cone bits crunching in his mouth—a horrible habit of his you have come to detest from the few months of knowing him—“we shared a room since we were 12, i think i’ve mentioned this,” he swallows everything in his mouth down and continues, “we are pretty close. we’d get teased for it a lot in school—i never really gave a fuck but you know art. he takes things to heart.”

“right, i can see that,” you didn’t exactly plan out how you were going to lead him to where you wanted but you get an idea, “i wanna know more. tell me some fun stories, i can imagine you two got up to a lot of trouble,” you fully turn to face him in your seat.

he racks his brain for a while and eventually, “one time i got caught with porno magazines under my bed and i blamed art. it was this whole thing—his grandma gave him an earful over the phone—god she was pissed,” a chuckle leaves him as he recalls the story, “anyway, we almost got kicked out and he didn’t speak to me for weeks. can’t remember how we made up or how i even got in possession of those magazines but we definitely learned our lesson.”

you’re giggling, “god you’re awful, what else have you put poor innocent art through?”

he turns to face you now, “i taught him everything he knows,” a smug smirk slowly takes over his expression, “ taught him how to kiss and how to jerk off. poor thing didn’t even know how to handle morning wood before i showed him.”

and there’s your chance, “so you two have like…”

he pauses and takes in your assumption, “oh god no, not like that,” a hand runs down his face quickly as a laugh of disbelief leaves him. “we’ve never—would never go there, you know? no shame to anyone who does we just—it was practice before we started dating and all that. was just helping him out.”

and well, that gave you enough of an incentive.

now you’re all in art’s dorm, a little buzzed from the alcohol and tired from a day at the beach. patrick sits on a small couch with his legs spread. both boys have decided to forgo their shirts, only in their swim trunks—patrick’s much shorter than the blonde’s. you still in your bikini top and tiny jean shorts.

“what about that girl you were seeing, what’s her name again?” patrick interrogates a clearly agitated art who sits on the floor rolling his eyes.

“i told you that’s over, she wasn’t looking for anything serious and i found out the hard way.”

“he means he saw her making out with one of his buddies at a frat party,” you add smirking over your bottle.

“okay, fuck off first of all—“

“hey, man calm down, look—“ patrick interjected, “there’s lots of chicks that would bang you, i’m sure a pretty boy like you has no problem getting laid. go charm up some nice girl that volunteers at the soup kitchen on her free time and—“

“fuck you patrick.” there’s no malice behind his words though—and you can spot the blush that takes over his pale complexion at the previous remark as he shakes his head. “it’s easy for you to say,” he looks up at you as he says it, “you guys fuck like rabbits any chance you get.”

“is that what it is then? you being pent up?” you cut in. “there’s lot of girls here who would love to fuck you, artie. you’re telling me none have caught your eye?”

art is silent, looking to see what patrick was thinking, but the latter simply looks curious—excited almost— and so he just sits picking at the hem of his shorts.

“oh i get it,” you continue, “you’re jealous. you think i’m taking your precious best friend away, don’t you?” you slide down from the chair to take a spot right next to him and whisper the next thing so only he hears, “you are jealous. don’t worry, we can share him.”

you pull back to see his pupils dilated and his mouth slightly parted, in shock and arousal—maybe even in acceptance. you can’t help the small grin as you look from him to the other still sitting on the couch, you can see his chest rising a bit heavier now.

you feel that as an agreement from both as you perch on the bed and call them both to follow at each of your sides. you can feel them eyeing you and for a split second, you see them staring at each other in a way that surpasses anything platonic they insist on having.

when you feel them both lean in to opposite sides of your neck you halt their movements. a look of confusion passes through their faces as they wait for you to explain.

“i think you guys have some making up to do,” the look on their faces creases further, “art, aren’t you curious to feel what his lips are like again? i have a feeling he has improved greatly since you were 13.”

art’s face falls, he looks at patrick in annoyance, “you said you would never tell, dude what the fuck.”

patrick just shrugs, still wanting to proceed. “i told you, that was only for practice. we’re grown now.”

“sure,” you pretend to let it go and you have on a stupid smile that he just wants to kiss off your face. you start leaning towards patrick and grant him that wish, using your hand on his jaw to give you access to his tongue. it quickly becomes heated, you land on his lap and grind yourself on the hard bulge in his trunks. his big hand gropes your ass and he moans greedily in your mouth. you pull away and let him suck and nip on the length of your neck before looking at art, who looks pitiful with his mouth hung open and his eyes lingering on the spot where patrick is occupied. a smirk returns to your swollen lips.

you tug on patricks hair and swivel even harder on his dick, leading to him groaning out a fuck me baby, and you swear you see art’s cock twitch under the layer of thin clothing. you leave patricks lap despite his efforts to keep you there, now sat on the pretty blonde who can’t seem to figure out what to do with his hands. you stop his stressing when you place both of his palms on your hips, trailing them up to your barely-covered tits where he gives a soft squeeze and lets out a little whine. you finally lean down to kiss him and it’s as you’d expect from him—tentative and soft. a kiss you’d get from a boyfriend after a nice dinner date—not from whatever this was.

he lets out hums and low moans, but you can tell he’s getting desperate. god knows how long it’s been since he’s fucked something other than his hand. you pull away and return to your spot between them. they instantly both try to catch your lips, it’s messy with all three of you licking and sucking and kissing. at this point no one knows whose mouth is whose, and it doesn’t even matter because suddenly you’re pulling off. you lean back to catch your breath and then you see them.

they lick into each other’s mouths, art is mewling and patrick grips his curls to hold him in place. they seem to catch on after a ridiculous amount of time but when they do, they stare at you while they’re heaving breaths.

“are you guys gonna take care of that?” you look down at their laps, both having matching leaks of pre bleeding through their shorts. “come on get them out, you’ve seen each other plenty before right? nothing to be shy of.”

they both listen, each erection slapping up and standing on its own. it’s obscene and you dont think you’ve ever been this wet in your life. art’s cock is so pretty—you think—pink and curved. he is smooth, you always had assumed he would be anyway. you can tell he takes good care of himself, his balls the same flushed pink he gets on his cheeks when you tease him. the tip of him is so red, a dribble of white streaming down when he notices your attention on his cock—you almost coo at it when it twitches.

then you look at patrick. that same cock you love and worship. he’s thicker in girth, your pussy pulsates when your mind trails to the stretch he gives you. his balls are heavy, and he doesn’t ever fully shave them. you like them like that—the musk and how they give friction to your clit when hes fucking you. he’s also drooling from his tip. you decide to start off slow.

you scoot forwards and extend your arms to their laps. each one of your hands holds them and at the contact, they can’t help but buck their hips. you think it’s adorable to see them synchronized like that.

“ah, shit!” patrick throws his head back and looks down at you jerking him off, then looks to his right at the other cock in your hand and shakes his head in disbelief, “i can’t—fuck—i can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“i see the way you look at him, pat,” you quicken the speed of your hands and both of them cry out, “i gave you both what you wanted, handed on a silver fucking platter. i think you should be a little more grateful. in fact, my hands are getting tired,” and with that, you cut all contact with them and you can quite literally see them wilt.

“wha- no, please,” art manages to get through a whine, “my hand doesn’t—it doesn’t feel as good i’m so hard it hurts, please—“

“who said anything about using your own hand?”you cut him off.

patrick hesitantly stretches his arm over his friend’s lap, “we’re just,” his fingers make contact with art’s dick and he almost drools, “helping each other out.” an experimental tug has his back arching and makes him shut his eyes tight.

“pat-patrick—oh fuck.”

one would think art already came by how much he’s wetting his friend’s hand, and patrick seems to be mesmerized by the sight. “holy fuck art, look at how much you’re spilling,” as if on cue, that makes him squirt out more. art is gripping his sheets and his eyes dart from the hand stroking him fast and the boy in front of him.

“i’m—don’t go so fucking fast,” art tries to get out, “it’s been a while if—nghh—if you don’t slow down i’m gonna—fuck!” patrick clearly enjoys this as he can’t help laughing at his state.

“don’t tell me you’re a virgin, artie,” he slows down but continues teasing, “thought i taught you how to hold off better than that.”

and while you’d love to keep watching art squirm under his torture, you stop him, “i got an idea.”

patrick reluctantly pulls away and they both now stare expectantly, “push both of your cocks together, here like this—“ you direct them to sit with their legs spread in front of each other, overlapping and then you position them how you want them.

they can’t even speak, they’re just panting and looking down at the contact until you continue, “come on pat, hold both of them together,” you watch as he does so and grimaces trying to hold off, “look at that, your tips are kissing—how cute.”

they both whine and patrick mutters a shut up under his breath.

after a minute of heavy breathing, patricks large hand slowly strokes down on both of their cocks. it’s so wet, the sound of the slicking lewdly filling up the room but the sound of their cries is almost enough to drown it out. art is almost sobbing at this point, you’ve never heard someone sound so desperate. they almost can’t bare the friction of each other, their tangled legs twitching and shaking.

you almost start to get annoyed at how slow patrick is going for the sake of making the feeling last, but in a way you think it’s sweet. the years they’ve held off on each other finally leading to this—they deserved it. you’re still annoyed tho.

“go faster,” as the words leave your mouth they both mewl and shake their heads, “you look so hot like this, i’m so wet. i’m thinking of letting you both fuck me—at the same time. just like this, both in my cunt,” patrick’s hand loosens his grip he is almost shivering now, he has to hold off, “why’d you let go, hm?” you pull his hand back on, “i want you both to imagine it, it’s gonna be a tighter fit than this,” you pull your hand over patrick’s and tighten the grip hard, “there you go.”

art can’t even make out words anymore, the second he heard you say you wanted them both at once, his ears started ringing. as if that wasn’t enough, the tightened grip made him moan out pleas over and over. when he looks down, he knows he can’t hold longer and he lets you both know, “i’m gonna, i can’t it’s too much, too much, too tight i—“

you take this as your chance to do what you wanted since you saw the tent in his shorts, you lean down to where they are connected and suckle on his tip and that does it. he sobs out a curse and starts twitching, he cums all over your lips and patrick, you can’t believe how much is coming out of him.

patrick just about loses his mind when he sees it all happen. it’s a miracle he lasted over two minutes like this and he’s about to pass out, “oh fuck me, yeah fucking soak that dick—oh god— you’re so wet—how do you get this fucking—“ he suddenly yanks art by his neck and fucks his tongue into his mouth again, and even tho he is still dizzy from his orgasm, he kisses back just as messily. that’s the final straw for patrick to cum all over them and squeeze their tips together for the last time that night.

you watch it all happen with a lazy smile. they both lay down, still out of it while you scratch their heads gently and murmur sweet affirmations to them. you’re between them and it feels just right. you don’t need to talk about what happened just yet. just sleepily kiss each other until you knock out.

they’ll make up not making you cum tomorrow, you can picture them both licking between your legs and when they take turns suckling your clit, you’ll pretend not to notice how they’re jerking each other off out of your sight <3

[starless-nightz]

Wednesday and Enid (seprately) with a vampier! S/O?

Wednesday and Enid with a vampier! S/O

note -> MY FAV GIRL AHHHH <3333

warnings -> mentions of blood.

content includes -> fluff, fangs, mentions of drinking blood from them, blood bags.

Wednesday Addams

Wednesday is quite fascinated by you, there are vampiers in her family but you interest her much more then her distant cousins and grear aunts and uncles

She would be the one who would supply you with blood bags, her family would make sure that they send you the most delicious blood that normal blood just seems stale to you now

She would be fascinated by your fangs, admiring their sharpness, sometimes Wednesday would let you drink from her, she doesnt mind if you get carried away but she will remind you to stop if you start to get too carried away

Enid Sinclair

Enid would ask a lot of questions about whats it like to be a vampier and vampier nature, shes genuienly curious and she wants to learn more about your species

She absolutely hates the smell of blood, will be as far as away from your mini fridge filled with bloog bags as much as possible, she will eventually get used to it but she still dislikes the smell

Enid would be nervous even at the thought of letting you drink from her, and when she does shes very nervous, she dislikes the pain but she would let you drink from her anyways, will scratch you with her claws if you get carried away

[vapekingg]

I saw your requests are open??!! Does that mean I can ask for something very angsty? 🥺

Of courseeee

Pairing: Dom!Mechanic!EddiexFem!Reader Tags: angst, broken up, established relationship, fingering Dividers by: @inklore

Rabbit

Your parents thought they were doing you a favor when they bought you an almost-new Buick Century. It's a pile of shit, and it comes with baggage in the form of flesh and bone.

Your ex Eddie is the only mechanic in Hawkins that will touch the fucking thing, and it gets touched... a lot. More than you do since your most recent break up. And maybe your old hunk of junk knew that you'd been thinking about your ex lately, deep into the evening when your vibrator just isn’t cutting it. The power steering went out this morning and Eddie didn't hesitate to let you tow the thing to his garage after closing hours when you called to reluctantly break your no-contact streak.

Now, you're passing him tools.

Well, you're passing him beers.

He hasn't said much to you since you got here, or since the break up. But you haven't said much to him either. The sound of cicadas screaming outside of the open garage door fills any empty silence, along with the clanking of a wrench (maybe?) against metal. He makes little grunts every now and then, and you can imagine his face. The clench of his jaw, the squint of his focused eyes. You sit on the ground next to your car just like you always have while he works. He liked you to keep him company. If he still does, you can’t tell.

It’s late at night by the time Eddie finally rolls out from beneath that piece of shit. He has gloves on, a habit he’d formed because of you. You always liked visiting him at work, after all of his coworkers were gone for the day. The mechanic get up really does it for you, and Eddie never wanted to dirty you up. He wanted to fucking ruin you for anyone else — and he has — but never dirty your pretty exterior.

“How much do I owe you?” You ask him for the first time ever.

You expect him to laugh, or maybe to smile. Instead his eyebrows knit together with something between confusion and frustration. His face is hard — upset, even. He snaps off the elastic, grease covered gloves and leaves them discarded on the ground near your tire, starting then toward the mini-fridge in the corner for one last beer.

“Tell Jason he can come by and pay your tab,” Eddie responds as he leans over, fog from the fridge swarming his feet and creeping up his calves. Your eyes travel upward with the inching up the clouds to drink in his toned thighs, his narrow waist. It doesn’t take much for you to start daydreaming about the way his boxer-briefs are hugging his flesh beneath all of those clothes.

It hits you though, what he said, and your heart drops. Your eyes snap up to meet his and that look of upset on his face has morphed into something of betrayal. His lips are curled into a hard frown, arms crossing over his chest after that initial ice cold sip.

“Heard you guys were hangin’ out lately.”

“Oh, is that what you heard.” You mumble sarcastically underneath your breath.

But Eddie catches it, and he’s never been one to let your slick tongue go untested. Your attention is caught by the quick cock of his eyebrow.

“Watch it, princess.”

That’s what he’s telling you. But it’s been weeks, and the feeling of Eddie’s palm coming down unforgivingly on your ass is more enticing to you than not feeling him at all, so you bring yourself to your feet.

“If it’s that big of a deal to work on my car then I’ll just take it to someone else.” You smart back.

And that does make him smile. A shit-eating, cocky half grin that creeps crooked up his face and shows off his boyish dimples. You’re a fucking sucker, and Eddie knows it.

He pushes off of the work bench behind him and takes one stalking step toward you.

“Right,” Eddie’s dark eyes wander down your chin and trace your bare shoulders, voice quiet under the scream of insects outside. “Because that’s worked out so well every other time.”

Maybe you had worn his old cut up Corroded Coffin tank top on purpose, but at least he was taking interest. His gaze travels over your form, slowing across the hills of your breasts and the curve of your hips. You regret standing up now. Somehow you feel smaller with every slow, deliberate step that he takes forward.

“What are you really doing here? Jason not giving it to you good enough?”

Eddie’s staring at you like you’re meat, like you’re a feast for picking. The pink of his tongue darts out to wet his velvet lips as his eyes begin to travel back up. Circling your plump thighs, crawling up your soft stomach. He takes another few steps, and then he’s right there, just a foot or so away. Close enough that when he reaches forward, his fingers hook loosely into the belt loop of your shorts.

He tugs gently, thumb teasing the hem to dip just inside. His eyes are glassed over when they meet yours, he’s a little drunk, loose enough to play on the emotion that always draws you back together.

Eddie tilts his head to the side sympathetically and parts his lips, “He not fucking you hard enough, angel?”

Your skin burns. Right where his thumb strokes, a hole is being seared into your flesh. A wildfire spreading throughout your abdomen once he slips another digit beneath the hem of your shorts, joining the other to toy with the lace embroidery of your panties. A knowing smile plays at his lips when he realizes you’ve worn his favorite pair.

“You been thinkin’ ‘bout me?” Eddie’s palm slides against your abdomen as he slips his hand further into your shorts, fisting the thin fabric of your panties gently so that it tightens against your clit.

You bite back a moan, but Eddie knows you. Inside and out. He recognizes how your back straightens and your eyes go all hazy when he’s making you feel good. And making you feel good makes him feel good.

“Yeah, I bet you have. That rabbit just ain’t cuttin’ it, huh?”

It’s absolutely not cutting it.

You think about him, every night. With that silicone working between your thighs. You squeeze your eyes closed and remember the unforgiving snap of Eddie’s hips as he drives himself into you. How he’d sneak in through your bedroom window and hold his hand over your mouth so that your parents wouldn’t hear.

He takes another step toward you, his hand flattening against your mound as he traps you between his form and your car.

“Answer me, baby.”

But when you open your mouth to deny these allegations, his middle finger glides over your clit, stroking through your folds to make note of your obvious arousal.

“And don’t bother lying,” he continues.

Another digit joins his middle finger, calloused appendages moving in gentle motions around the most neglected parts of you. You can’t help but to reach for him. His collar. His wrist. Anywhere that will anchor the two of you together. Anything that will keep him from leaving you.

“I—” you begin, voice shaky but determined, “I’ve… missed you.”

Like the setting of the sun beneath the horizon, Eddie’s face shifts in nature. His mocha eyes blacken. Any restraint he was showing you prior sinks to the ground as he buries two fingers deep inside your sopping cunt and pins you against the side of your car with his hip.

“What’ve you missed?” He spits, free hand ripping up to capture your throat in a vice.

Eddie curls his fingers forward, and there’s that buzzing in your brain. That release of dopamine and endorphins that keeps you crawling back to him. No one else is quite this addictive.

"This," you mewl with no thought behind the words. Your body goes slack and you're held up by his hands alone. "This. I've missed this."

“Yeah you have,” he teases.

And just as quickly as it begins, Eddie yanks his hand out of your shorts. He leaves you empty, soaking, desperate for more.

But instead of being the hand that feeds you, Eddie takes a step back. He brings his fingers to his lips and his tongue darts out to lap at the coated digits.

An audible groan leaves his throat as he leans back against his workbench.

“Just like fuckin’ candy,” he says, then punches the red button that releases the lift rack that’s barely holding your car off the ground. It begins to lower behind you.

“I’d hate for you to keep Jason waiting,” Eddie continues with a cheeky grin.

He knows that Jason prefers his girls studious, timely.

But Eddie just prefers you. And until you’re his again… well, his preference is irrelevant.

[housecow]

i have a lot of cute ideas

my feeder travels a lot—he’s lucky enough to have a job that can take him all over the world. his cow, however, cannot really follow.

i outgrew a regular plane seat sometime after 300lbs. we discovered that after a particularly fruitful trip to spain; although eating our way through each city racked up a lot of steps, the funnel sessions and late night snacking really did me in. neither of us were really surprised that my hips just didn’t quite fit. rather, i could tell it was all he could think about the entire way back. his hand on my soft thigh, slightly clenched and almost possessive… the way his eyes flickered to mine and there was this look.

our trips together became rarer but neither of us minded. as i’d grown, a lot of what we used to do together faded. i couldn’t keep up on the hikes, biking was out of the question, and even the long walks we enjoyed wound up split by breaks so i could catch my breath.

throughout it all, however, my feeder just grew more enthusiastic. he’d tell me he was so proud after we made it back to the hotel each night. his hands would massage my softened shoulders, he’d hold the shake to my lips, and he’d coo into my ear, “it’s okay, i won’t make you do this again,” “there’s a buffet tomorrow morning,” or, “you can really feel how fat we’ve made you now, right?”

i’d melt with whatever he said and he’d fill me up, every way i needed. funnels and shakes, expansive platters of pastries… him inside me, i’m so full and he’s telling me how good i’m doing for him, my belly touching the bed while he’s breeding me…

neither of us minded when we had to do things separately. he’d be off on a trip, sending me photos of the views and the food (“wish i could be feeding you these!”), and i’d return the gesture. belly pics, selfies of my fatass planted on the couch working on the last bit of the gallon of ice cream that was supposed to last the week, meal ideas and articles and excitement about all he’s getting to experience.

the best part, however, is when he’d get back. over the longer trips i’d have settled in a bit too much. nothing was overly dirty, of course, but the fridge was overstocked with takeout. i’d finished almost everything and move on to whatever was next, absentmindedly leaving behind remnants of everything i’d made my way through. the trash would be full of boxes and candy wrappers, vegetable skins and soda cans, too. and he'd be able to see what it all did to me.

i was bigger every time he came back. it wasn’t too obvious, maybe just a pound or two, but it was enough to excite him. he’d admire the way i had to focus and gather momentum to heave myself out of the car, how my belly hang hit my thighs just enough to make a sound when i tried to move quickly, and how he could always count on me to gorge myself while i missed him.

he never made a comment though. but every time before he left the pantry would be replenished—zebra cakes, brownies, chips, pasta, sauce, boxed mac n cheese, everything he could think of would be left there for me.

he once said, “i won’t let a moment pass where you can’t reach for something to eat,” and it was true. a candy bowl mysteriously appeared on the coffee table one day, each time i reached the bottom it’d be refilled. the mini fridge side table was “cute and functional,” he reasoned, as he showed me where the sodas and premade shakes were going. i’d thank him, a soft kiss and several grateful expressions, before admitting that i was relieved at having one less trip to the kitchen now when i was settled in.

and he’d just smile. enabling a cow like me is easy, he just has to set the food out. i know what to do.

[cjlouwho]

Our Future

(a bucktommy mini(ish) fic)

ao3 link or read below

Summary: Buck gets a little reckless at work, and Tommy gets a lot upset.

It had started with the silent treatment when Buck first got home from work. Tommy was fixing dinner, forcefully plucking basil leaves from the stem and tossing them into the pot when Buck came in.

He knew something was wrong right away, especially when he was only greeted with a monotone, “Hello,” and no attempt to move away from the pot that did not actually need to be stirred at the moment.

Buck had walked over to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek before going to shower.

Once he was showered and dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, he came back out and sat down at the kitchen island, where Tommy was now aggressively chopping lettuce.

“So, how was your day?” Buck asked cautiously.

“Fine.”

“Do anything fun?”

“Not really.”

“Get some rest?”

“Tried to.”

Buck rested his hands on the counter, tapping his fingers a few times before asking his next question. “You didn't... Did you happen to catch the evening news?”

Instead of answering, Tommy stopped chopping the lettuce, put the knife down and went to the fridge to get a cucumber. A thick silence filled the space between them as Tommy washed the cucumber and returned to his cutting board. He picked back up the knife and resumed the harsh chopping.

“I will take that as a yes,” Buck mumbled. He sighed, briefly resting his head in his hands before continuing, “Say something, Tommy. You've got your grumpy face and everything; I know you're mad.”

“I'm not mad,” he answered, obviously mad. “And I do not have a grumpy face.”

“You very much do have a grumpy face.” He tried to meet Tommy's eyes from across the island, but Tommy was avoiding him. “Come on, Tom,” Buck said calmly, patiently, “Talk to me.”

Tommy put down the knife and, for the first time since Buck got home, he looked at him. His eyes were red. It almost looked like he'd been crying.

“I just don't get it, Evan. What would possess you to do that?”

“It's my job,” Buck defended. “It's our job. It's what we do.”

“No. No, what you did was way beyond the job. You know how I know it was beyond the job?” He asked rhetorically. “I know because, when I was watching the news, I could hear Bobby on the live feed yelling at you to not go back in.”

“I- I had to go back in though, Tommy. I had to save him. If I didn't go back in, he would have died.”

“He. Was. A. Hamster!” Tommy replied, emphasizing each word. “You risked your life, for a hamster.”

“Of course I did!” Buck said, as though it was crazy to think he wouldn't go back in. “Tommy, you didn't see that little girl crying. Sh- She just got Georgie a couple months ago for her birthday a- and she took such good care of him. She was freaking out. I didn't really think about it, I just went.”

“That's the problem!” Tommy exclaimed, motioning to Buck. “You didn't think about it. You never think about it. You go, and you run into the fire, and you become the hero, and you never once stop to think about you!”

“Hey, that's not fair-”

“What if the ceiling would have collapsed?” Tommy continued. “What if your exit had become blocked? Or the buildup of smoke got you lost? You never considered those things, did you?”

“I told you I didn't think about it,” Buck replied. His voice was quiet, reserved. He wasn't sure if what he was feeling was anger or shame. Either way, he hated it.

“Well, you should have.”

Okay, now Buck knew it was anger he was feeling. “Oh, thank you for those- those wise words. You've really changed my perspective. You should have,” he mocked, getting up from his seat. He went to head toward their bedroom, every intention to slam the door behind him, but instead he turned back around to face Tommy. “You know, we've been together for two years and never once have you made me feel bad for doing my job! In fact, most of the time, you seem to find it pretty hot.”

“When you're not being careless.”

“I was not being careless! I was saving an animal! I was helping that kid wh- who just lost everything she had.”

“Yeah, well what about us, Evan? What about everything you have? Our future? Our kids?”

All the retorts Buck had prepared suddenly disappeared. He stared at Tommy for a moment, dumbfounded, before uttering out, “Our... Our kids? Tommy, we don't have kids.”

Tommy put his hands on his hips, standing straighter. “No, not yet, but one day we will.”

“You think about that?”

“Of course I do,” Tommy replied as though it should be obvious. “We've talked about having kids someday, Ev.”

“Yeah, I- I know we talked about it I just didn't know you thought about it.” Any hint of anger in his voice had long fallen away.

“Don't you?”

Buck nodded. “Yeah. A lot.”

Tommy took a breath, rubbing his hands over his eyes to try and wipe away some of the exhaustion from the day. He moved around the island, taking a few steps closer to Buck. “I just worry,” he said, his voice faltering. “I worry that one day you're going to run into a burning building looking for a turtle, or a fish, and then I'm gonna have to explain that to our kids. I'm gonna be left,” he paused, “left alone, and I can't- I can't handle that.”

“But what if it's a person?” Buck asked. “How would that be any easier?”

“It wouldn't be easier,” Tommy admitted, “but at least I'd understand it then. Listen, Evan, I love animals as much as the next person but I love you a lot more. I'd like to know that when you're at work, you're there with the priority to come back home.”

Buck moved closer to Tommy. Close enough to reach out and grab his hand. “I can't promise you that I'll never run into a building looking for an animal again. That's just me, you know that. But I can promise you that surviving and coming home to you, and our future children, is always in the front of my mind. Always.”

Tommy nodded, blinking away tears. “Today was, um, it was the first time I was ever home, just sitting and watching the news and there you were. They had a special alert for the fire, and it was just live coverage of everything happening, and there you were,” he took in a shaky breath. “I couldn't do anything but watch and when you ran back in, I- I started counting. It was four minutes, twenty three seconds and I don't think I took a breath that entire time. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it kind of felt like my heart was breaking apart, piece by piece.”

Buck shook his head. “That's not ridiculous,” he said, squeezing Tommy's hand even tighter. He pulled Tommy closer, wrapping him in a hug. “I would've felt the same way if it was you. I'm sorry.”

Tommy rested his chin on Buck's shoulder, closing his eyes. “You don't need to be sorry.”

After they held each other for a moment, Tommy pulled back just enough to look at Buck. “Evan, I don't want you to change who you are. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Buck replied, and it was true. He knew Tommy loved him for exactly who he was, even if he was a little reckless sometimes.

“I just-”

Buck raised a hand to Tommy's cheek, stopping him. “I know,” he assured him. He leaned in, giving Tommy a soft kiss. Tommy sighed into it, the tenseness from the day leaving his body.

“I think we should order out,” Buck said once they parted. “Dinner's starting to smell a little charred.”

Tommy's eyes widened. “Oh God,” he said, rushing over to the burnt pot of food on the stove.

“So, did they say anything about me on the news?” Buck asked cheekily as Tommy turned off the stove and dumped the pot into the sink. “Come up with any good nicknames?”

“Oh, actually, yeah,” Tommy replied. “They were calling you the Rodent Rescuer.”

Buck's face fell. “You're kidding.”

Tommy smiled. “I'm not.” He walked back over to Buck, pressing another gentle kiss to his lips. “I prefer Hamster Hero,” he said, smacking Buck's ass playfully as he headed into the living room to get his phone and order some food.

Buck smiled. “I hate you,” he said, plopping down on the couch beside Tommy.

Tommy wrapped his arm around Buck, pulling him to his chest. He leaned down and kissed the top of his head, running his fingers through Buck's hair. “Yeah, I hate you too.”

[thatbigbisexual29]

Playing with Fire gets you Burned (Buddy Daddies)

This is a fic for my best best friend @giggly-squiggily !!! It was their birthday and I wanted this to be a gift from me to her! So happy birthday girl!! (and sorry this is late 😭)

It’s very safe to say that after Rei and Kazuki's ‘retirement’ and the start of their new life, Rei became the biggest little shit anyone could have ever imagined.

With the loss of their assassin gig and a general lack of edge to their lives, the two could finally, finally relax. With all that relaxation also came freedom. Engaging in more playful activities with Miri, going to cooking classes, opening a restaurant, getting Miri into good schools, and doing a lot more things they never thought they had the time to do. Mini golf, more trips to the mall, going to aquariums, hell they even got to travel the world a few times. And their lives blossomed as well as new parts of themselves they didn’t know about. One example being Rei’s mischievous side. He didn’t show it often, but it was usually sparked by Miri’s encouragement. Or a lack of Miri in general.

There would be times where Kazuki would be minding his business when he’d be the victim of a prank or two that would come across as Miri’s signature pranks. The pranks are as follows:

Salt in his coffee when Miri didn’t drink coffee. Someone had smeared peanut butter on his shoe, making him think he stepped in poop. Miri absolutely hated anything poop related, especially jokes or pranks. On his computer, he noticed that the keys ‘b’ and ‘w’ were switched around, which he found out after commenting on his sister-in-law’s post about being a scary witch for Halloween. Miri doesn’t even know where Kazuki keeps his laptop. One day, he found a small cake in the fridge with a post-it note that said ‘SPONGE CAKE FOR REI’. Naturally, Kazuki tried a piece. Turns out, it was an actual sponge decorated with frosting and sprinkles. (He’ll admit he deserved that one.) 

The last notable prank was when he sat on a tack in his room on his chair. Miri hadn’t been home that whole day! She was at a sleepover with her friends! All signs pointed to Rei. He was thankful all these pranks didn’t happen in one day, otherwise he would have flipped out. But Rei certainly had it coming.

As Kazuki and Rei opened the restaurant that day, Rei knew he couldn’t pull any real pranks. Especially since he didn’t want either of them burning themselves on the stove. But that never stopped him from agitating Kazuki in other ways. Seeing as there were no customers and Miri was about to come down for her breakfast, Kazuki was making her favorite type of pancakes. The smell filled the house and dragged Rei from his sweeping duties and appeared behind the blond, wrapping his arms around his waist and placing his chin on the other’s shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” Kazuki asked with a grin, keeping his eyes on the food in front of him. Rei chuckled deeply which sent goosebumps up the older one’s spine.

“Heh, can’t I admire your cooking? It smells great.” Rei sniffed the air once again and let out a small hum at the fragrant odor. His arms held closer onto Kazuki’s waist and a sneaky little finger traveled its way towards his tummy.

Kazuki grunted and stood straight up as he felt something slowly circle his belly button. He’d better not, the blond thought. He did his best not to jerk away and squeal like he normally would and took in a shaky breath. A wobbly grin grew on his lips as he bit the bottom one, his hand slightly shaking as he attempted to hold the pan steady.

“R-Rei…” Kazuki started nervously. He could see the playful smile form on that bastard’s handsome face.

“Yes, Kazuki?” The former assassin replied, batting his eyelashes to fake his innocence. “Is there a problem?”

Kazuki growled then sputtered out a giggle as that tricky finger lightly scratched over his belly button. The blond choked out some adorable squealy giggles as he tossed his head back and backed up into Rei’s shoulder. Rei chuckled as he heard his partner laugh, taking the pan out of his reach and using one arm to flip the pancake in the air.

“Shohohow ohohohoff! EEP!” Kazuki squeaked as Rei dug his finger deeper into the spot. That really made him laugh. Kazuki yelled out hilariously and curled up as much as he could. Rei veered him to the side so he wouldn’t hit his head on the stove or burn himself, still smiling as he tickled the poor man.

“Rehehehehei! Let gohohoho! Wh-whyihihihihihihi?? Whyhihihi ahahahare you dohohohohoing thihihihis- wohould you GEHEHET OUT OF THEHEHEHEHEHERE!” The blond finally ripped himself away and covered his belly. His leftover giggles brought a bright smile to his partner’s face. The ravenette chuckled and turned off the heat, setting the pancakes onto a plate for their daughter, who raced down the stairs right on time.

“Good morning papas! Papa Kazuki, are you ok? You look tired,” the girl commented, eyes sparkling when she saw her breakfast. Kazuki panted a bit and glared at Rei. Rei smiled internally, forced a straight face and shrugged.

“It’s just a little jab. Grow up, Kazuki.”

Kazuki nearly lost it. He stood, about to ramble his mouth off before the doorbell chimed. Kazuki immediately faced the doorway with a warm smile and open arms.

“Welcome to the restaurant! What can we get for you today?” Rei and Miri giggled with each other behind his back. Kazuki smirked as an annoyed twitch took over his eyelid.

Alright Rei, he thought. You wanna play, do ya? We’ll see how you like it when I hit you out of the ballpark! he thought.

~~later~~

A dinner rush always had staff in panic mode. Thank god it wasn’t just Rei and Kazuki running the restaurant. Other cooks worked on food, waiters and waitresses took orders, people in the back washed dishes, everything was going well! Except…

“Gah! Kazuki, stop that!” Rei hissed as the blond man passed him once more. The man grinned and winked at his partner as he sped by, hot plate in hand. Rei grumbled and felt his side, a finger recently connecting against it that made him jump.

All night. All. Night. Kazuki had been poking his sides every. Single. Time. He passed by the former assassin. He was fed up at this point! He kept having to hide his yelps, squeaks, and jerks from his fellow staff and confused customers. Was this hell? Getting poked and squeezed repeatedly while slaving over a hot stove? By the description it certainly sounded like it!

Kazuki would sneak his hand to squeeze Rei’s side, pinch his waist, poke his ribs, slide a finger up his spine, even blow on his ears for Christ’s sake! The poor man. He was just trying to make his way through a dinner rush. Why out of all the days did Kazuki finally decide to take his (albeit, well deserved) revenge today?! Rei was torn out of his thoughts as he bit back a squeak. Kazuki had pinched his side again. In retaliation, the former assassin took his spatula and quickly smacked the blond’s backside.

“Eep!” he yelped, spinning to glare at his partner. “Now you have to go clean that! Hurry, on the double!”

Rei didn’t even try fighting back his satisfied smile. He quickly switched out his spatula and continued to cook, only Kazuki did not relent with his pokes and prods and squeezes. By the end of the night, Rei was out of his mind. He kept his cool until the two men were off the clock and properly showered. Rei, having gone before Kazuki, sat on the edge of their shared bed, bouncing his leg anxiously. As soon as he saw a glimpse of Kazuki, he was going to attack. But unfortunately for him, Kazuki was not stupid.

The blond man stepped out of the shower, refreshed and ready for the assault ahead of him. He slipped on underwear and sleep pants and made sure to only lightly dry his top half. Being slippery meant that Rei wouldn’t be able to get a proper hold on him. He also decided to play dumb.

“Oi, Rei!” he called from the bathroom. Rei grunted in response.

“Since Miri is with friends tonight, why don’t we watch a movie?” Kazuki had his back against the wall, hugging the corner in wait of who was going to make the first move.

“Sounds like a good idea.” Rei stood from his spot, fingers twitching with anticipation. “What movie were you thinking?”

“Maybe a mystery? Or a thriller would be nice.”

Rei smirked and crouched into a ready pose. “You hate thrillers.”

“Hah, you got me,” Kazuki chuckled. “You know I can’t stand the suspense!”

Kazuki curved around the doorway of the bathroom while Rei lunged for him. The dark haired man aimed for his waist in an attempt to grab and lift him, but Kazuki expected this. The blond stepped to the left then quickly twirled to the right. Rei, surprised by this, wasn’t able to react in time. Kazuki hooked an arm around his stomach and hoisted the skinnier man over his shoulder. The two had ridiculous smiles on their faces as Rei twisted in his partner’s grip, pushing at his face and back.

“Puhut me down!” Rei growled through a laugh. Kazuki let out a single ‘hah!’ and walked towards the bed.

“If you insist!” The blond man playfully slammed his partner onto their mattress and the fight for dominance began.

Rei hugged around Kazuki’s neck and tried to turn the tables but Kazuki wasn’t giving up that easy. They met halfway with them lying side by side. The blond hooked his leg around Rei’s and pushed, forcing the smaller man onto his back. They became a mess of arms, each of them trying to grab the other’s wrist to try and pin them down. Kazuki couldn’t help but laugh at the silliness while Rei had the goofiest smile on his face. After a few more minutes of this, Kazuki finally managed to hold Rei’s wrists in one arm and hold them above his head. They panted, then Kazuki began to giggle.

“Heh… whahat?” Rei asked.

“Miri’s right,” Kazuki wheezed, “we are getting too old for this.”

Both men chuckled before catching their breaths. They caught each other’s eyes before both of them blushed.

God, they thought, he still looks good. Rei shook his head and focused, still somewhat upset from the night.

Kazuki shook his head and grinned mischievously as he cracked his neck to the side. “Anything to say for yourself mister?~”

A giddy smile forced its way onto Rei’s features. He squirmed with vigor as he bit his lip nervously. His face flushed bright red as the hand hovered over his ribs.

“Kazukihihi…” giggles slipped from the former assassin's lips.

“Reiiii~” Kazuki cooed back. He slowly brought down his wiggled fingers, smiling even wider as his lover wiggled and squirmed under him in a desperate attempt to escape. He decided to stick out one finger and softly brush it back and forth inside Rei’s belly button.

Rei’s eyes shot out of his head as he pursed his lips together, shuddering and attempting to curl up to protect himself, but Kazuki’s finger was hooked. He wiggled it up, down, and swirled it around making Rei squeak and whine with a quivering smile overtaking his face.

“Oh? Is that a smile? Are you gonna giggle Rei?~” Kazuki teased, knowing his partner hated it. Rei’s face grew red very quickly as he shook his head from side to side, biting the inside of his cheek to try and quiet himself. Kazuki chuckled and softly skittered his blunt nails across Rei’s belly and sides, watching him shudder and jerk away from the ticklish feeling.

“Khhk- K-Kazuki! C-come ohon!” Rei hid his face in his bicep.

“You want me to do what?!” Kazuki said in exclamation, laughing when Rei shook his head more and chuckled.

“N-Nohoho you freheheak! Hahahahaha!” Rei couldn’t hold back any longer and laughed softly, his stomach shaking under Kazuki’s fingers.

Kazuki admired Rei. He loved how he smiled, relishing in the rare times he did. And his laugh was so funny. It was wheezy due to all his years of smoking and would sometimes cough between barks of laughter. He would be chuckling normally then suddenly switch to squeaky giggles. And when you tickled his neck, he made the funniest gargled laughs while trying to shove you off.

Kazuki squeezed his belly with one hand which made Rei wheeze and arch his back, his feet kicking against the mattress and sending the blankets askew.

“Hahahahahaha! Kazukihihihihihi! Plehehehehehehease!” Rei pleaded.

“Sorry, Rei. I can understand what you’re saying! I better get my giggle translator ready~” Kazuki grinned evilly as he saw the panicked look in his partner’s eyes, pulling up Rei’s shirt.

“H-Hey, no! Please don’t- Kazuki! No!” Rei tried to sound angry, but nervous giggles got in his way. Kazuki chuckled and held Rei’s hip down.

“Attaching giggle translator in five…”

“K-Kazuki- let’s talk about this! Here- I can work the register every night! For a week!”

“Four…”

“Okay- wh-what about dish duty? You can stick me on dish duty for a month! Yeah! That works doesn’t it??”

“Three…”

“I’ll give you a foot massage after every shift!”

“Two…”

“Kazuki please!”

“One!!” Kazuki pressed his lips to Rei and blew a big fat raspberry on his tummy. 

Rei screamed out a laugh, thrashing as if his life depended on it. Raspberries were his number one weakness. Plus, Kazuki grew that stupid little goatee which only added to the tickling.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!”

“Hmm, I didn’t get a good signal. Once more!” Kazuki laughed and pressed raspberry after raspberry, watching as Rei’s face burned red with tears of mirth gathering in the corners of his eyes. He laughed and laughed and laughed, eventually pulling his wrists free and pushing at Kazuki’s head.

“Hehey wait! I wasn’t done translating!”

“Yehes you ahahare!”

The two men began to wrestle again, both of them laughing like kids as they tousled, tickling each other as they went.

After a while, they both lay and panted on the mattress, red faced and slightly sweaty. Rei looked over at Kazuki with a dumb grin on his face.

“Sorry for all the pranks… got a little carried away…” he huffed. Kazuki smiled back and shook his head.

“Don’t worry… I’ll get you back…”

[gojowsddy]

Tipsy Invitation

𖨆♡𖨆 Rafayel x fem!reader

: ̗̀➛ you planned to host a party for your friends at Rafayel's place, but everyone has cancel due to the sudden heavy snow. The party decor is pointless now, and you end up trapped by the storm in Rafayel's home...(inspired by rafayel's veiled whisper five star memory)

: ̗̀➛ TW: nsfw content, bondage, porn with plot, riding, fingering

: ̗̀➛ word count: 2.8k+

We spent countless hours decorating Rafayel's house for a party that turned out to be a complete waste of time due to the blizzard. You are sitting on the floor in front of the couch. You can feel the weight of exhaustion bearing down on you as you wearily take a sip of the delicious wine. You gaze out the window, watching the snow falling and wondering how long the storm will last. 

"Can this really be a party when it's only us?" You murmured, taking in the tantalising aroma of the cake and red wine wafting through the air.

"You're right. It's a date then." Rafayel's lips curled into a sly smile as he teased.

"Those are two different things...!"

Rafayel chuckles, loving your flustered reaction, "Hold off on the alcohol for now. Didn't you prepare a lot of party games? Shouldn't we play first?"

"They're meant to be played with a lot of people.. I've practised my dance moves-"

As Rafayel strolls over to the radio, you notice a mischievous glint in his eyes. A soft, soothing melody emanates from the speakers, and he extends his hand towards you.

As the music fills the air, Rafayel pulls you close, his arms wrapping around your waist. Moving in perfect harmony, he leads you across the dance floor. With each step, his touch sends shivers down your spine, and you can feel your breaths mingling together, the heady aroma of red wine. It's as if you are under a spell, lost in the moment, lost in each other. The world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you, joined together by an unbreakable thread of intoxication.

"Is this how you imagined the party would be?"

"...I don't know."

"Well, it's exactly what I had in mind. Buuut you'll probably feel a little queasy after drinking and spinning around, yeah?"

His hands rest on the small of your back, and his warmth seeps through the fabric of my clothes.

You can't tell if the heat is because of our dance or is it because of him.

You can only think about the scent of red wine.

You can feel his shirt against your body and his slow caresses on the back of your hand. They all seem to overwhelm your senses. Making you feel the dampening wetness growing in your panties.

"I'm feeling... a little thirsty," you muttered, trying to ignore the arousal that is burning inside you. Rafayel beckoned you towards the window and gestured over to the mini-fridge. He starts rummaging through its contents, searching for the perfect drink to quench our thirst.

"What do you wanna drink? There is some sweet stuff. Or maybe something light? Oh, I see sparkling water here."

"How about you mix one of your special drinks? I remember we've stocked up on plenty of cocktail ingredients." Your heart skips a beat as Rafayel looks my way, a mischievous grin playing on his lips while he tilts his head.

"My dear guest, alcohol isn't gonna make you less thirsty. You'll just be more drunk."

"Then make me something refreshing and won't get me drunker, please."

"If you insist. I'll do my best. Give me a moment."

Rafayel's hands moved with the precision of a seasoned bartender, as he grabbed two glass bottles and gave them a once-over. You found yourself captivated by the way he scooped some ice cubes and added them to the shaker. His hand closed around the shaker, holding it tightly as he gave it a vigorous shake. You couldn't help but notice how attractive his hands were. As you were lost in thought, a colourful, icy beverage appeared before you, snapping yourself back to reality. 

"What's this?"

"It's sparkling fruit juice. And the best part? It quenches your thirst without getting you drunk. The bad news is that there is no alcohol."

"I ordered a cocktail. If there's no cocktail then what's the point."

"Sorry, sorry, the bartender here plays it by ear." Rafayel places a hand over his chest, leaning slightly to look apologetic. All the while, he wears a smile clearly for the spectacle.

"Well it's delicious, but it's still not what I ordered. If you can't make me another drink, you need to compensate me in a way that makes me happy." You decided to play along with his game. With a fierce expression on your face, you pushed your finger against Rafayel's chest, causing him to lose his balance and stumble backwards into a nearby chair. Breathing heavily, you watched him nudge a present away with his foot before taking my hand and giving me a troubled look.

"How should I make it up to you, my dear customer~?"

"Well..." Suppressing a grin, you reach for the satin ribbon that's been carelessly draped over the back of the chair. You move slowly around Rafayel, taking in his every detail. The way his broad shoulders fill out his crisp white shirt, the hint of stubble on his chiselled jawline, and the intense look in his purple-pink eyes. As you make a few more rounds, you start to wrap the ribbon around his torso, feeling the heat emanating from his body. The crimson colour of the ribbon is almost mesmerising, darker than the rich wine you had been drinking earlier.

"I choose you."

You hold the delicate ribbon, trying to tie it into a perfect bow. That's when you notice Rafayel's piercing gaze on you, and your heart races with anticipation. With a sly smile, he breaks the silence with a soft chuckle, "All right. Consider it compensation. I'm yours for the taking."

"...Why do I feel like I'm walking into a trap? I can't blindly accept this gift." The ribbons fall onto Rafayel. But because you denied him, an invisible tension grabs him. A strange playfulness is ignited in his gaze like he's about to pounce.

"You haven't even started unwrapping me. Am I gonna be thrown away just like that?"

"Oh, but I've seen this gift before. I don't need to unwrap it to know what it is." 

"Really? You..you think you have me all figured out, do you?"

You realised that there was no need for me to answer the question. It was evident that he already knew the answer and what he was trying to achieve. At that moment, your fingers slowly crept behind the back of the chair, reaching for the stem of a rose that was resting there. Its deep, rich colour reminded me of a fine wine, and you couldn't resist picking it up and twirling it between your fingers.

"Hmm, I wonder where that came from." 

You were sorely tempted to slap the cocky grin right off his face. However, you decided to be somewhat gracious and extend him a bit of kindness for the evening. Taking the rose that was in your hand, you gently rubbed it over Rafayel's sensitive ears, which were visibly flushed with heat. The redness that had overtaken his ears began to spread to his cheeks, creating a vivid flush that was impossible to ignore. You felt a sense of satisfaction at the sight of it.

"mhm..a-always, full of surprises, huh. You're good at catching people off guard." His breath hitched. A whimper escaped him, creating a symphony of desire that wrapped around you like an intoxicating mist. 

You couldn't control the growing wetness in your pants and the anticipation of wanting to just fuck him on the spot was so irresistible. You wanted to tease him more and more. With a rose in your hand, you ran it across his chest, making him feel the petals brush against his clothed skin. You gently rubbed against where his nipples would be.

"n-ngh..mhm...I'm not sure who's suffering more - me or the flower." Rafayel squirmed restlessly on his chair, the soft petals of the rose that he had rubbed to his nipples caused him to release a breathy moan. It was so clear that his nipples were peeking through his shirt. 

"C-can't you be a little more gentle?" His body is lumped restlessly on the chair, struggling to catch his breath while also trying to contain the growing pressure in his crotch. Your gaze follows the visible signs of arousal, starting at his flushed face and moving down to his throbbing cock poking against the fabric of his pants unsuccessfully hiding its desire. He shifts impatiently on the seat, clearly unable to resist the urge any longer. The sight of him struggling with both physical discomfort and overwhelming arousal only adds to your arousal. You can feel your heart rate accelerate as you watch him fidget and fight against the temptation.

"W-worried about b-breaking me? I'm not that fragile." He looked at me with begging eyes. You felt even more excited about the idea of 'breaking' him. However, thoughts lingered about not being enough to reach his satisfaction. 

"Are you still concerned? I'm down for a slow, thorough inspection." 

Your hand reaches around the back of the chair and your face meets with Rafayel, there is a sudden flash of light and a rush of energy that courses through your body. Your lips connect with his as you kiss him deeply inserting your tongue in his mouth, taking full control of his mouth. He feels warm against your skin, almost like it's pulsing with energy.

"All right, that's enough. I'll let you off the hook. Let me untie this - " Your eyes widened seeing that Rafayel grabbed your arm.

"When did you untie yourself?" A lump in your throat blocked you from speaking as your heart started racing so fast. 

"You know there are plenty of old escape techniques on the Internet," Rafayel smirked, dragging your arm, and forcing you to sit on his lap. Your legs were shorter compared to Rafayel's long legs, making you spread your thighs and expose your wet panties. 

Rafayel watches you intently, his gaze locked onto your every move. His cock throbs insistently against your panties. Despite knowing that giving in to your desires would mean submitting fully to Rafayel's control, the thought of riding his hardness is becoming increasingly captivating.

As you continue to struggle against his lap, your hands quickly find their way around Rafayel's neck. Your body starts to force itself to grind harshly onto his lap. 

Your head fell back, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Your body forcefully presses against his lap, grinding with intensity. Your actions grow more desperate, as you feel yourself descending further into a state of bliss.

Rafayel's body was writhing with desire, his moans of pleasure echoing through the room. His eyes were dark and filled with lust, his cheeks flushed with red and the intensity of his need was noticeable. You could feel his stare on you, hot and hungry.

"pleasepleaseplease....raff...I want more-" you whined. Now it's Rafayel's turn to bring you down.

He slowly unzipped his jeans and lowered his boxers. As he freed his cock, you couldn't help but gasp in surprise at the sheer size of it. It was thick and throbbing, with a deep red tip that looked almost painful and the precum leaking down his tip. Your own body trembled with anticipation as he began to stroke himself, his movements slow and deliberate.

With a low growl, Rafayel closed the distance between you, his hand still working his shaft. He pressed his body against yours, his lips hot on your neck as he whispered dirty promises in your ear. You could feel his erection pressing against you, and you knew that you wanted nothing more than to feel him inside me.

"please..r-rafayel..please.." you begged him desperately.

"hah..where did your confidence go..beg for it," he has that cocky grin again and you don't want to fall for it but you wanted him so bad right now.

"please..raf..fuck me...I want your dick inside me...make me your cumdump..pleasepleaseplease-" As he moved closer to you, you could feel your heart racing with anticipation. Your mind was a blur, unable to focus on anything except the overwhelming desire that was coursing through your body.

He snooks his fingers underneath your skirt, squishing one of your asscheeks before slapping it harshly. With his hand wrapped securely on your waist while his other hand plays with your panties. Pulling them side to side aiming for your sensitive area, making you attempt to close your thighs.

He brushed his fingers against your pants, pushing them aside to reveal your soaking cunt. His fingers traced along your clit, making you arch your back into him as he continued to rub your clit. It made it more difficult to shut your legs together.

"Here that? It's fucking soaking wet for me." He chuckles, making you bite your lips to not suppress a moan.

He enters both of his fingers into your cunt, you feel a rush of heat flood your body, making it impossible to think straight. You couldn't stop the whine that came out loudly and arched your back even more. In split seconds, Rafayel's fingers sped up his pace thrusting into you harshly, sending waves of pleasure through your body with every movement.

His fingers worked amazing the way he curled the tip of his fingers, successfully finding your g-spot and in seconds you were in a moaning mess, toes curled, head tilted to the side, it was driving you insane.

The silence was only filled with your moans and whines, which got louder every second, and the wet noises coming from your pussy. You begged him to go faster, desperate to reach your climax, but he refused to give you what you wanted. Instead, he pulled his hand away, leaving you gasping for air and trembling with frustration.

"Not gonna let you cum that quick," he said with a cunning smirk on his face. "I'll tell you when you can cum."

The anticipation was almost too much to bear, but you knew that the wait would be worth- 

He thrust his cock into you, leaving you no time to think. You felt a surge of pleasure that left you moaning uncontrollably. It was stretching you out so much and it isn't even halfway in. You felt so full and so stuffed.

You waited for him to do something but he was only staring at your desperate reaction.

"W-what..what are you doing? Please move..plea-" Before you could finish your sentence Rafayel thrust his dick into you, making his dick press against your cervix. Rafayel's sudden movement caught you off guard, causing you to scream.

The sensation sent waves of pleasure throughout your body, and you instinctively arched your back in response to the intense stimulation. Your hands grab a fistful of his shirt trying to resist the pain.

You moaned loudly as you felt the weight of his thick shaft filling you up completely, your tight pussy clenching around his length. 

"I-I...can't..t-take it any more..too f-full-" you couldn't form proper words as Rafayel continues to thrust his dick into you.

"Y-ye-..fuck..yes you can. L-loosen up, will you?" He stutters. Your gummy walls were making him absurd. The way it is sucking him in. The way it tightly suffocates his tip. He wraps his arms around your body, his chin lays on your shoulder and his eyes tightly shut. He just wants to stuff you full with his cum.

Rafayel couldn't control his thoughts. He suddenly manhandles you and forces you to be on the chair. Before you open your mouth to say something, he starts rummaging his dick in you. Forcefully, thrusting all his power into you. Your back is arched in a perfect 'C' shape and your toes are curled as he continuously fucks you hard. You couldn't stop moaning it was so fucking good sogoodsogoodsogood~. With each thrust, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

"I-i'm closee...imcloseimclose..please..let me cum..please," you begged. Rafayel could explode right now from the look of your pleading face. 

"Cum."

As Rafayel continued to thrust into you, you felt the string in your belly snap. The sensation was intense, and you couldn't help but close your eyes tightly shut. You were completely lost in the moment, and your body was responding uncontrollably. Your breath became ragged as you called out his name repeatedly, riding the waves of pleasure that coursed through you.

Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to catch your breath, but Rafayel wasn't done yet. He continued to shove himself inside you, his movements becoming more urgent and forceful. His tip pressed against your cervix, a noticeable bulge poking through your abdomen, adding to the intense pleasure you were experiencing.

He was overstimulating you too much, you couldn't help but whine, "T-too much..please..i-its too much.." 

But your pleas fell on deaf ears as Rafayel continues to fuck you to reach his own climax.

As he continued to thrust into you, you felt your body respond in ways you never thought possible. Every nerve ending was on fire, and you were completely lost in the moment. You surrendered yourself to the pleasure, letting it consume you completely.

Finally, with one last thrust, Rafayel reached his own peak, cum squirted all over your stomach and collapsed onto you. You and Rafayel were left panting and gasping for air, your body still sticky and trembling.

"I-I’ll get you back, Rafayel.."

p.s: This is my first smut writing. Please tell me how it is and any tips on improving.

[pandorasworkshop]

🌕The Bedrooms of the Moon Signs🌕

Pandorasworkshop

Okay so the moon rules the fourth house which is the house of comfort, mother and the home. So looking at people's moon signs is a great way to grasp what their bedroom may look like or what they feel comfortable in. Disclaimer: aspects other fourth house placements and what house ur moon is can affect this.

Moon in Aries: neat and organized or veryyy chaotic, they may have a little corner of their room dedicated to an interest of theirs. Some friends have dumbbells in their rooms as well. Whatever house their moon is in may show be more prominent in their room. Do you guys know those pretty minimal rooms on Pinterest (not the beige) thats what this placement reminds me of and also very chaotic rooms where there are collage walls.

Moon in Taurus: they payyy attention to the little things, they know what they like a value being comfortable, some of my friends with this placement spend a little more on their rooms to make sure everything is up to their standards. Usually have nice bedsheets too. Think nice fabrics. Most likely to have a mini fridge in their room. Their rooms always have a luxurious undertone even if that's not their aesthetic.

Moon in Gemini: techy room three friends of mine have an Alexa in their room and two have a record player. May spend money on gadgets for their room. Naomi Campbell has this placement and her house is literally the shape of an eye. Most likely to focus on lighting in their rooms (led, sunlight lamps, fairy lights). Lot of kpop fans with this placement. Could have multiple journals or sketchbooks all around their room. Tall windows.

Moon in cancer: they like being cozy, literally every single person I know with this placement has a veil hanging from above their bed. Ambient lighting and the starlight projectors. Appealing to all the senses to feel comfortable is important to them. May use candles, diffusers, or incense. Stashes food in their room. Weighted blankets. If they aren't doing well their rooms show their emotions. Most likely to have stuffed animals on their bed.

Moon in Leo: whatever hobbies they have you WILL absolutely know once you step foot in their room. One friend of mine with this placement is a guitarist has seven guitars/banjos/bass hanging on her walls plus pedals and amps all her posters are of bands. Another friend is an artist she paints and likes to bejewel stuff those shiny rhinestones are EVERYWHERE and her walls are painted with her art. Another friend is a nail tech/makeup artist all the tables In her room are filled with supplies and makeup. Look in the cabinet oh more nails. I feel like these placements pets love to hangout in their rooms as well.

Moon in Virgo: their rooms tend to be very organized. Many influencers online who tend to do those organized videos tend to have this placement. Most likely to have one of those carts that wheel around and are a container. Two friends with this placement both have veryyy coordinated bookshelves. Bullet journal and they may have lots of pretty pens. Anything they buy for their room is always useful. Tend to be plant parents as well and a friend and my cousin with this placement both have a yoga mat surrounded by plants. HIDDEN CABINETS. You can tell where they are mentally through their rooms. Really polished rooms even without trying.

Moon in Libra: may have had to host people a lot in their rooms so their rooms have multiple chairs. Their room either looks straight out of a catalog or there is clothes thrown EVERYWHERE. May have a specific area in their room they get ready in. May have framed photos of their loved ones or Polaroids. If they get flowers from somebody they may incorporate them into their room decor by putting them in a vase or drying them. Libra is ruled by Venus so their rooms always like pretty and almost refreshing.

Moon in Scorpio: every single person I know with this placement is metal/goth 😭 really living up to the stereotype. But Scorpio rules the 8th house and 8th house is about secrets, occult and obsession. Many of my friends with this moon placement when they have it they reallyyy lean into their aesthetic. All five of my friends have their walls covered with things and a typically goth aesthetic they really lean into. Something though I feel like is not talked about with Scorpio is their lighter side. Scorpios sister sign is Taurus and Taurus is very light. Both of these signs can embody one another. A girl on tiktok has a Scorpio moon and Venus and her room is very coquette but her walls are still covered with all sorts of things and she really leans into her style.

Moon in Sagittarius: might have a lot of funny things in their room or just plain out strange things. A friend with this placement has road signs all over his room, a random urinal(don't ask me how he got it idk), life size Bigfoot cutout, and a singular poster of the movie white chicks. Another friend with this placement is really well traveled and she has all the cool souvenirs from all over the world and collects them, she also has a few of those educational posters that are pretty.

Moon in Capricorn: antique but not antique in the way Pisces can be. Lots of nice wood furniture, maybe a bit of a masculine undertone with neutral colors. Moody style and coloring. Capricorn is the sister sign to cancer so their rooms are also very cozy. Whimsigoth or academic. Neutral colors or colors that are darker in shades. Knit blankets remind me of this placement. Leather reminds me of this placement as well. Think of retro made new.

Moon in aquarius: do you guys know those blue/white futuristic technological themed rooms people have on tiktok. That's what this placement reminds me of. People I know with this placement tend to have nice ass pc set ups. You may like to sleep in the cold so they can be extra warm in their blankets. Rooms may be more minimal. Nice wallpaper with celebrities who have this placement.

Moon in Pisces: Antiques but in that almost magical way. Women on tiktok with this placement have these beautiful gold gilded mirrors. My friend has this gorgeous antique wardrobe. Most likely to thrift their decor. Florals remind me of this placement. If this person is really religious or really spiritual then you'll know when you go into their room. One of my friends is Christian and her room is filled with beautiful antique crosses. Another friend is Hindu and she has a nice altar in her room. If this person is a smoker they might have decor that relates to that. Witch friend has a lot of themed decor like moon shelves and a whole bookshelf dedicated to her craft. Pisces rules twelfth house which rules religion, substances, and spirituality. Pisces is also the oldest sign.

[beomcoups]

The Athlete (bonus)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: footballer!Soonyoungx journalist!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞:  fluff, smut, footballer au, established relationship au

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: R (18+)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: lots of kissing, unprotected sex, missionary, swallowing, throat grabbing, clit stimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting (I'm so embarrassed)

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You are assigned to do an interview with Kwon Soonyoung, the trailblazing athlete everyone calls Hoshi. But as you spend more time with him, you start to see there are more layers to him than football.

𝐀𝐍: Surprise! I did not plan on making a bonus chapter to this fic but I I suddenly got this idea to write this drabble. It’s kind of an epilogue to the the original fic (you can read it here if you haven’t) . Thank you @hobeemin​  for looking over this at the very last minute lol. 

Happy birthday baby Hoshi!

series masterlist

“Hey, baby.”

You are pampered with kisses from your forehead down to your lips. You were in a deep sleep, the festivities from a late night knocking you out cold with sore thighs as a result. Hoshi lifts the blanket off you, revealing your naked body to the cool air from the ac. His attempt to wake you is working and your body reacts as his lips trail down your back, leaving you with giggles. ��Hi,” you mumble. “I’m awake.” He turns you over, climbing over you and properly kissing you good morning. His body is warm and inviting, his muscular arms wrapping around you, making you feel safe and secure. 

It’s been two years since you’ve been together, and it’s the happiest you’ve ever been. You finally found someone that filled the void you felt since your dad died, besides your job as a journalist, who understood you and didn’t make you second guess yourself. He was your equal in every word. You love him with every beat of your heart. “I love you,” he expresses, his hands intertwining with yours. “You mean the world to me.” You nod, nothing else needing to be said because he knows; he knows your heart. Your head nuzzles on his neck, happiness not even coming close to how you feel. You then lift his face, wanting to make eye contact. “Do you love me more than tigers?” you kid. “Hmmm, maybe,” he quips, tickling your stomach. You erupt in belly laughs as he smothers you with more soft kisses. You could do nothing all day but lay in bed with him and laugh. And fuck. “You look beautiful,” he whispers, leaving you with one last kiss before getting up. “I think that ring on your finger may have something to do with it.” You glance at your left hand, a 14k white gold diamond engagement ring he surprised you with last night. You had a feeling he would propose, as he started randomly talking about taking a week-long vacation to the Maldives, and you caught him looking at random venues that could only be for weddings. He asked you to take this week off, and you obliged, happy to get out of town. You have always been confident that he would be the one you would spend the rest of your life with, and you are glad he proved you right. He leaves the room and returns, handing you bottled water from the mini-fridge from your suite to drink. “No,” you pout. “Come back to bed. I’m cold.” You reach out for him, pulling him back to bed and wrapping your legs around his waist. You feel satisfied when he pulls you tighter, feeling his chest rise and lower on yours. “Now I have you forever,” you delight, kissing his cheek. “I’m never letting you go.” You did have every intention of holding him close, but you are also naked and horny; his earlier kisses put you in the mood. He grinds against your crotch, his fingers finding your center and rubbing it softly. He lifts slowly, lowering his sweats and revealing his hardened cock at your entrance. You bite your lip, your insides dripping with excitement as he enters you slowly. Your nails dig into his skin, his slow, deep strokes taking you out of this world. “This is what you wanted, right?” He grunts. “You’ve been craving me since you woke up, huh?” You chuckle, not even trying to deny the allegations. Hoshi already has you stuck under his thumb, you’re afraid. “You know me so well.” His thrusts become faster and more intense, the headboard banging against the wall as he fucks you into your fourth orgasm in 24 hours. His hand slips against your neck, grasping it with a slight squeeze the way you like it. Your release comes shortly after, squirting all over him before you beg him to do it again. “Do it again,” you plead. “We have all morning.” He grins, lifting your sore legs over his shoulders and pounding you until you feel stars. The windows are open, and you are sure everyone will have your names on a first-name basis by the time this vacation is up. But you are in love and marrying the love of your life. You could give a damn. “Oh baby,” he exhales. “I’m almost there.” You nod fervently, desperate to get his load down his throat. He pulls out shortly after, unloading on your tongue with a labored gasp. He leaves your tongue saturated, ensuring you swallow before kissing you. Hoshi helps you off the bed, slapping your ass as you walk to the bathroom. Legs wobbly, you feel thoroughly fucked out; the need for a good shower calling your name right now. Knock, knock, knock! Your head cocks to the door, not expecting anyone to visit, and you lock eyes with Hoshi, who throws on his sweats quickly before opening the front door. “Hi,” a stern voice calls from the other side. “I know you are young and in love, and I am very happy for you. But can you be mindful of the noise? I am receiving noise complaints from other guests.’ Your face heats up in embarrassment as you hear him apologize, the lack of care you felt earlier replaced with being mortified. The last thing you need is to be on the latest blogger’s Instagram, with “exclusive” details about your sexcapades. He shuts the door quietly as you turn on the shower. “Did you hear that tiger?” he teases you. “You gotta keep it down.” “Oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, giggling. “Are you joining me?” You reach out to him, his lips curving into a big grin. “And yes, I will keep my hands to myself,” you promise. He quickly gets undressed, stepping into the spacious shower behind you and grabbing a cloth. “Let me take care of my girl.” You oblige, letting him wash your hair and body before you return the favor, sneaking kisses whenever possible. “And baby?” you beam at him. “Happy birthday.”

[queenofthepirates83]

♡My general Eyeless Jack headcannons♡

A/N: I find the concept of him having a heat interesting and I like it so I head cannon him to have it✊😞 it’s short too ik

Sometimes, like rarely he plays his guitar, which sits in the corner of his room, untouched most of the time

He’s got his own little mini fridge filled with bloody bags of kidneys and other things among other things

His room is mostly clean, he cleans it when it gets a little too dirty but other than that it’s usually clean

He has at least one hello kitty plush that was gifted to him by Ben, who did it as a joke(Jack ended up having a huge hyper fixation over hello kitty and Sanrio and he loves it. A lot.)

He’s a very reserved person, he only hangs out with Jeff and Ben and on the occasion Tim. He likes to say it’s against his will when he hangs out with Jeff and Ben but in reality it’s not. He just doesn’t have any friends besides the two.

He has three different tongues

A long tail with a little puff of fur on the end

His teeth are incredibly sharp but they tend to dull out every so often

The tips of his ears are pointed

He goes into a heat and when he does it’s usually ok for him, though he does simply stay in his room and doesn’t leave unless he’s completely out of food.

The other only thing he kinda enjoys doing is patching the other creeps up. He has a medical room connected to his room that he uses to do his medical stuff

He doesn’t have much of an interest in dating or any romantic things, when he goes into a heat he does get an urge to mate with somebody, like a victim but he usually is good at holding back and stuff

[141shousewife]

You like movies? You wanna make one?

Minors DNI I WILL eat you.

ill make this another part if it does well

cw: nsfw, price x female reader, TA reader x Professor! Price, slight jealousy/arguing, filming, price x plus size reader

Johns voice echos inside of the linoleum lecture hall. You quietly listen to the scribbles of a red pen and the sound of his voice. Normally the sound from his auditorium during lectures is moderate, but today he is particularly chipper as his voice bleeds into the shared office you currently revise essays in.

"-Excellent! and what do you think the director is trying to convey with this wide frame shot?"

Your eyes continue to graze over the same words again and again: "Director" "Shot" "Film" "Cinematography" "Intention" "Audience"

You love your job, but reading first years' dull writing for over an hour and a half has your eyes and brain hurting.

Being John's TA had a lot of quirks; good pay, free snacks, and lots of academic validation that you will not expand on in front of your friends when questioned, and lastly the sharply dressed professor that lounges around and insists on your everlasting 'genius', and is admittedly fun to run your eyes over and imagine him slowl-

"ALRIGHT- that is going to wrap up our time for today, it's Friday so I don't want to keep you all. Remember to make good choices and turn in your makeups by 11:59 on Sunday. Okay, get outta here."

You rest your eyes and listen to the symphony of zipping backpacks, chairs being pushed in, and the different conversations of "i gotta turn in-" or "what are you doing this weekend-" quickly zip by the door of the closed office. You take a moment to settle into your rolling chair as you hear Price sending off students warmly. His brown suede dress shoes quietly grow louder as they hit the tile close and closer to the office door.

Price's office is cushy and expansive. There is enough room for more than the desk, rug, couch, and mini-fridge fill the space a subpar amount. The two desks that occupy the warmly lit, carpeted room are positioned across the room from each other. John's desk is littered with a desk lamp, books stacked on top of each other, a desk of pens and a closed cigar case.

As you hear the him begin to answer the last few questions from students while slowly opening the office door, you gather your materials and move to the couch and sit beneath the warm throw that adorns it.

The couch dips in on itself significantly and creaks under your wide bottom as you curse it for its announcement.

"Of course- and if you have any more questions feel free to email me."

The girl that you see him talking to- the sliver of her that you can see is smaller than you and blonde, she catches her hair in between two of her fingers and leans into his personal space.

"Could I come to your office for help on my essay, this Saturday, around say 6?

Not fully understanding what she is asking, he straightens out his back in concern and responds to her in a hushed tone.

"Do you not have a device in order to submit an email? If not the library is open from 9 am to 9 pm during the weekend."

She provides even less space for him and looks up with a smile.

"No Professor, I do, I just meant if I needed some... special help"

He maintains a warm demeanor but shuts her down

" I'm afraid not- My office hours are for working and if you make a comment like that again I am at liberty to report you to the dean, so I would suggest you leave now. Have a nice weekend."

He opens the door fully to enter and shuts it behind him and the blonde pads away quietly with less of her dignity than before. He rolls his eyes as he greets you.

"You can't make this stuff up. Flirting when she hasn't even turned in her essay on time. Bold."

You speak without fully thinking; wondering why Price is acting so insulted by a conventionally good looking girl shmoozing him. As he sets his laptop and other things on his desk you speak.

"She was a pretty girl John. It's not like its such a low blow."

John turns quickly quirks his head "You can't seriously be implying I would date some...kid? one of my students? She's not my type. "

You immediately jump to defend yourself with in hindsight- a bit too much gusto.

You say while sarcastically chuckling "I wasn't saying that! and come on it's just us, she- girls like her, are everyone's type."

John steps closer to where you are sat on the couch and looks down at you with his eyes furrowed and his hands in his pockets.

"Well she's not mine."

He reaches over on top of his desk a grabs a cigar, he quietly throws a "You mind?" over his shoulder and upon you responding "You're all good." he clips his cigar and lights it.

He turns around and steps closer as puffs it and he eyes you over.

His gaze is- uncomfortably intense, in a way that makes you wanna say sorry- or maybe start stripping...

He seems to catch wind of you being in thought.

"What do you care anyway?"

You look at him to respond but nothing comes out of your mouth as he sits the cigar down and steps closer to you until he's standing over you. His legs stand interlinked with yours and brushes them.

You feel something other worldly pull your body up to stand in front of him. You stare at him breathlessly and try to ignore the cinnamon, sandalwood and cigar smoke that's making you want to rub your-

John's voice pulls you out of another depraved thought

"I can't believe you think a girl like that is my type. I date women. Grown women. "

Your voice barely sounds like your own. You barely get the words out.

" I swear that wasn't what I meant. I just thought-"

John cuts you off "I know what you thought, you thought I was going to let you have a self deprecation fest, but I'm telling you that the women I want.. don't look, talk, or think like her. I don't want girls."

"I like women. Women who look, talk, and think like you." He toys with the bottom of your skirt in a way that makes your face grow warm, his hand brushing against your thick thigh.

You start to protest immediately, " You don't need to flatter me John, I'm sorry."

John starts speaking over you in frustration, "Why is it unbelievable that I would prefer you? I'm not flattering you. I'm not a liar or someone who compliments out of pity, you know what- here"

He huffs and grabs your wrist and places your hand directly over his khaki covered hard-on and whispers

"Does that feel like pity to you?"

As you stare at him dumbfounded, John's hand reaches up and holds the base of your skull with his large hand.

All of your breath re-enters your lungs like he just jump-started your entire system.

John looks at you with mischief you cannot quite place.

"How about I help you see how good you look?"

You track his gaze towards his Nikon and immediately look at him in horror.

"You wanna record me? No. Absolutely not. I look horrible on camera and you want to film my O-face and chubbiness from a side profile? You've lost it!"

"Honey, if you don't want to film because you're uncomfortable we can forget it right now, but if this is about the way your 'chubbiness' looks then I'm telling you that I wanna see this body. On me. On video."

[katyswrites]

put on your records (and regret me)

PART 2 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: asshole!Steve, rivals-to-lovers, swearing, HEAVY alcohol use, recreational weed use, getting drunk/blacking out, descriptions of puking/hangovers, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 3.7k

Playlist

You love WAMC-Hawkins, Indiana’s top college radio station. It’s your safe space, your niche. It’s where you’ve made your friends, your favorite place to be when the rest of the world gets to be just a bit too much. Well, with one exception.

Steve Harrington is a thorn in your side. And just as well - he thinks you’re a royal pain in the ass. But in your senior year, you’re both on the e-board, so you have to work together. You love to hate him. So why can’t you get him out of your head? And, why do you find yourself going to see his band, each and every weekend?

Underground basement concerts, spinning old records, and screaming matches in the vinyl library with the boy you love to hate. An enemies-to-lovers college radio station 90s AU.

TRACK 2

You don’t truly decide to go to Steve’s stupid party until the last possible moment. You already know that spending more time with him than necessary is a recipe for disaster. But, you reason, you probably should show your face. It actually does seem like nearly everyone from the campus’ music scene would be there - it would look bad if you didn’t show up. The radio station’s funding is always on the chopping block - half of your job is networking and being friendly with practically everyone on campus to keep it alive. 

Still, as you start getting ready, you consider backing out about 50 times. Is Steve actually expecting you to show up? Is it a pity invite? Or, a challenge?

Knowing him, it’s probably the latter.

Throughout the course of getting ready - which mostly involved throwing on some makeup while intermittently feeling like you had nothing to wear every time you looked in your closet full of clothes - you chugged a bottle of wine to help yourself relax. It had been on the door of the fridge, so God knows how long it had been there, but it’s good enough. Then you’re out the door and catching a bus downtown, shivering a bit in the crisp October evening air. You pull your jacket tighter around you as you hop on board, forever thankful that university students get to ride the city’s buses for free. 

It’s packed full of other college kids, mostly freshmen undoubtedly on their way to frat parties downtown. You had outgrown that phase after sophomore year, opting for friends’ house parties and going out to bars as you got older. You can’t help but look at them fondly - somehow, despite being peers in all the ways that matter, you feel so far removed from them; the girls in their mini dresses and crop tops, boys carrying six-packs and sporting unbuttoned flannel shirts, loudly packed onto the bus like sardines on their way downtown to make bad decisions.

Hamilton Street is in the heart of the downtown area, where a lot of students live. You hop off the bus with nearly everyone else, droves of kids filling the streets, chugging beers and smoking cigarettes as they make their way to various frat houses. You follow the groups, the other students slowly peeling away until it’s much quieter - it seems like Steve’s place is one of the last ones on the block.

You had purposely left late enough so that you could guarantee you wouldn’t be in the first wave of people to arrive - it was closer to 11 than 10 at this point. The autumn evening air was chilly enough that you’re walking briskly, jacket pulled tightly around your shoulders. You nearly turn around approximately six times between the bus stop and his house - yet, against all odds, you find yourself standing on his front porch.

Like most student rentals, the house is old and a bit rickety - you can hear the din of chatter and music inside. A good sign, you suppose - part of you had been worried he’d purposely given you the wrong address. You wouldn’t put it past him, not when it comes to you.

You take a deep breath, and open the door. The smell of beer, weed, and sweat hits you like a wave. The small living room is hazy with smoke, the house immediately a bit too warm from body heat. A few heads look up as you enter, followed by an uproar of greetings.

Look who decided to show up!

Hey babe!

Everyone hide, mom’s here!

You roll your eyes, laughing.

“I do have fun sometimes, guys.”

“Oh, I know,” a familiar voice says, Eddie lifting himself off of the couch to give you a big hug.

“I was there at that party freshman year when you nearly fell off of Mikayla Hodder’s roof-”

“Shut up,” you say, face flushed with embarrassment at the (fuzzy) memory.

“Can I get you a drink?” the shaggy-haired boy asks.

You nod, following him back through the house towards the kitchen. You shoulder your way through bodies, saying the occasional hello when someone you recognize catches your eye.

Eddie is rooting through the fridge, pulling out a beer and extending it to you. You accept it gratefully, pushing the fridge closed with your hip as he leans against the counter.

“So…I wasn’t expecting you to be here tonight,” Eddie remarks, popping his bottle cap off with an opener screwed into the wall. 

“And why’s that?” you ask casually.

“Well… I mean, please tell me you know whose house this is -”

“Of course I do,” you say quickly, taking a swig of beer. “Harrington invited me.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow.

“Really?”

You nod. “Is that so unbelievable?”

He just shrugs, staring down at his bottle.

“Dunno. I know he’s not exactly your favorite person -”

“Maybe so, but a lot of my friends are here, so… who's to stop me?”

Eddie grins, clinking his drink with yours.

“There you go - I was hoping you’d come out, to be honest. Sometimes I’m worried you don’t let yourself have fun anymore.”

You scoff.

“I - I have fun.”

“You used to. This year, though, you’d been so…”

“So what?” you ask defensively.

Eddie’s face starts to turn a bit red.

“Well - you know - I know you’re stressed and all, managing the station, but… you can be a little…uptight.”

You roll your eyes.

“I’m not uptight -”

“Look, trust me - I’m saying that with love, as your friend -”

“Yeah, whatever - I can be fun.”

“I know - I’ve been there with you through it all. Just… I’m glad you came. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say.”

You don’t really respond, crossing your arms as you glance around the kitchen a bit.

“What are you looking for?” he asks.

“No one,” you respond absentmindedly.

Eddie smirks.

“Yeah - okay.”

Steve is nowhere to be found. Perhaps that’s a blessing - it’s busy enough here that you ma be able to avoid having a conversation all night.

It’s around then that Eddie’s bandmate Gareth is stumbling into the kitchen, stopping himself for a moment before breaking into a grin when he sets eyes on you and Eddie.

“Thank God - me and Jeff need someone for pong!”

That’s how you find yourself partnered with Eddie, letting yourself forget about Steve as you play beer pong. You’re a competitive person, and arguably more so when you’re drunk - that’s how you and Eddie kick ass two rounds in a row, leading a fed up Gareth to declare the game totally bogus before storming out to the back porch to smoke with Jeff.

You high-five Eddie on your way back to the kitchen to grab another drink. You’re properly tipsy now, probably on your fourth drink in less than 2 hours. Your tolerance did used to be better than this - maybe Eddie was right, about you not being as fun as you used to.

The kitchen is empty, which you’re thankful for - it’s tiny to begin with, so more than a handful of people makes it feel cramped. You’re a bit hot, working up enough of a sweat during the game that you had shed your jacket already. The refrigerator light is nearly blinding in the dimness of the room, but the cold gives enough of a relief that you bend over and lean into the fridge. You hang there for a moment, sighing. In the distance, you hear the sound of a glass breaking, followed by a series of aw, mans - you decide it’s not your problem to worry about, and stay there another moment. You then root through the fridge for a moment until you find a bottle of something you like. 

You slam the door shut and turn to head back towards the rest of the party, only to nearly jump out of your skin when you realize you’re not alone.

Steve Harrington leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and wearing a smirk.

“Jesus - you scared me. Why the fuck are you just standing there like that?”

He shrugs.

“Just enjoying the view, sweetheart.”

You scoff, popping the cap off of your bottle and heading right towards him, hoping he’d move out of the way to let you through. That, of course, is wishful thinking.

“Can I get through?” you ask, bristling as he blocks the doorway.

“You decided to come,” Steve says, looking down at you with a grin.

“Well, you did invite me.”

“I know - I’m glad you actually showed up, though.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” you mutter sarcastically, shouldering past him and back towards the living room.

Eddie’s lounging on the couch, eyelids heavy as he passes a joint between himself and Argyle.

“Got enough to share?” you ask, plopping down next to him. He nods, passing it over to you. You take a long hit, letting the smoke settle into your lungs as you sink further into the couch.

“You good?” Eddie asks.

“Mm, yeah. Just want to chill here for a little bit.”

He nods, paying you no mind as he takes a deep inhale. Your eyes follow Steve as he crosses the room and heads out to the front porch with a girl you don’t recognize. You feel your brow furrow, your eyes trained on the front door. It’s not too long after that that you manage to help Eddie finish the joint. You chug your beer, starting to feel lightheaded, the world around you moving a bit more slowly.

You fall into a comfortable crossfaded lull there for a while, with Robin Buckley eventually placing a beer can in the middle of the table and calling for a game of Kings as she shuffles a deck of cards.

You open another beer as she does, sitting forward a bit to half-heartedly play the game. You find yourself getting stuck taking a drink quite a few times, your reflexes slow and your wits not quite about you. A few more people filter in, sitting criss-crossed around the coffee table and pulling cards from the deck and doing what it dictates. 

“Six is chicks!” Eddie cries out, flashing his six-of-spades card to the group. You roll your eyes as you take yet another drink, reaching to grab your own card as Eddie sticks his under the can’s pull tab.

You glance at it, and giggle.

“Jack - what’s Jack again?”

“Never Have I Ever,” Robin says, holding up three fingers. Everyone follows suit, and you think for a minute to start it off.

“Okay, um… never have I ever done a drug harder than weed.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Eddie asks.

“What do you think it means?”

“Alcohol is technically more powerful of a drug than pot,” Steve pipes up across the table - when did he get here?

“Shut up Harrington, you know what I mean -”

“Yeah, like acid and coke and shit,” Argyle adds.

“Well fuck,” Eddie concedes, putting a finger down. 

You laugh, expecting nothing less of him. It goes around the circle for a bit - things ranging from never have I ever broken a bone to never have I ever had a threesome, followed by a series of laughs or groans as people put down fingers and down drinks. You only have one finger left by the time it gets to Steve.

He thinks for a moment, humming to himself as he does - you can’t help but think that there isn’t much he hasn’t done. After a few more seconds pass, he smirks, and locks eyes with Robin.

“Never have I ever hooked up with someone in the vinyl closet at the station.”

“Not fair,” Robin exclaims, smacking Steve on the arm. He laughs as his friend lays into him. She’s blushing, and officially out of the game. She glares daggers at him as she takes a drink.

You can’t help but notice that Steve gets quite a few people with that - Eddie being one of them, caught in a cascade of groans and fingers getting put down. You feel your mouth fall open in disbelief.

“Whoa, wait - is everyone fucking around in the vinyl library?”

Robin stares at you for a moment, dumbfounded, then laughs.

“Wait, seriously? You didn’t know that?”

You feel your face flush with embarrassment, all eyes on you.

“Well - um, no, this is the first I’m hearing of it.”

Eddie just grins, and gives you a playful pat on the back.

“You seriously don’t know your own radio station at all, huh?”

“I - I guess I’m not that surprised that someone has, but - all of you?”

“Not all,” Steve chimes in.

“Yeah, wait - how have you not?” Robin asks.

Steve just shrugs. “I don’t know… I have things like, I don’t know - a bed, in my own home, for starters.”

Robin rolls her eyes. You meet Steve’s eyes for a moment, and quickly look away.

You stick the Jack card in the pile under the beer can’s pull-tab - only to hear a pop followed by a hiss.

“Uh oh, Madame President broke the seal!” Eddie declares, pushing it towards you. “Looks like somebody’s got to shotgun it.”

You take it begrudgingly and stare at it for a moment.

“I need to borrow someone’s keys,” you finally say, earning some whoops and hollers from the group. The last thing you vividly remember is popping a hole in the can, and downing the whole beer in a manner of 30 seconds.

******

You blink awake groggily - enough sunlight permeates through the curtains that you know it must be morning. You groan, your mouth dry and tasting distinctly of alcohol. A turn over towards your bedside table makes your stomach feel all wobbly - fuck.

You reach for your alarm clock, squinting at it - nevermind. It’s not morning - more like the afternoon. Well into the afternoon.

A pit of dread settles into your gut - when did you get home? How long were you asleep? You never sleep this late, not even on weekends - a late lie-in for you is 11 AM. You’re definitely in your own bed, which is a positive - still in last night’s clothes, though. How? 

You don’t remember much after the game of Kings - though, you were definitely doing shots at some point… with who? You remember being in someone’s car - maybe. Or was it the bus again? If you actually managed getting the bus home while blackout drunk, you’re actually quite proud of yourself. But that somehow doesn’t seem too likely.

You pulled yourself to sit up, only to immediately regret it. Your stomach is now churning like a stormy sea, and your head is starting to throb. You’re an idiot. 

You hadn’t gotten drunk like that since your freshman year - it was a rookie mistake. You just hoped you didn’t make a complete idiot out of yourself in front of everyone.

After finally pulling yourself out of bed, you stumble over to your bedroom window and open the curtains. The bright afternoon sunlight hitting your face made you realize what a horrid mistake that was - you’re practically blinded by the light, and your head is properly pounding now. And now…

You barely make it to the bathroom in time, keeling over the toilet to puke up all of last night’s mistakes. The second your knees hit the cold tile floor, you begin coughing everything up, regretting anything and everything you’ve ever done to lead you to this moment. You don’t even hear Nancy approach behind you, not even aware of her presence until you’ve flushed and fall back against the wall, feeling disgusting.

“I was going to ask how you’re feeling, but it feels like a stupid question,” she says, leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed. 

You glance up at your roommate, feeling so small.

“Ha ha,” you say sarcastically. She offers a hand to help you up, which you accept gratefully. She waits until you’re hunched over the sink, brushing your teeth and gargling water to clean the taste of sick out of your mouth, to speak again.

“So - it was a fun night?” she asks cautiously.

You laugh dryly. “Um, yeah, I guess the night was fun. Right now… not so much.”

“Aww, poor baby,” Nancy coos teasingly. “You’ll be alright - just chill out today, yeah?”

“Mm - yeah, that’s the plan. I think I’m going to take a shower… and lie down for a little.”

Nancy nods. “Yeah, good idea - maybe I can go down to Blockbuster, rent a couple of movies, get some snacks?”

You offer up a small smile. “That’s nice, but you really don’t have to -”

“No seriously, it’s fine, I think they have some new stuff I want to check out anyways. I don’t have plans anyway - let’s just do a girls’ day, maybe get takeout later -”

“Sounds great, Nance. Thanks. Maybe hold off on takeout, for a bit… let me see how all of this feels,” you say, gesturing to your stomach. 

“Yeah, okay. I’ll head out - take a nice, long shower, it always helps.”

“Sure thing - and hey, I don’t know who called you, but thanks for coming to get me last night.”

Nancy furrows her brow quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“I - didn’t you bring me home last night?”

Nancy shakes her head.

“No - no, I was asleep. I think I heard the door open at some point, but I assumed that was just you coming home - you don’t remember?”

You shake your head, properly confused now.

“No - I don’t. I - think maybe I took the bus back then?”

“I thought they stop running those after like 2AM? I didn’t hear you get home until around 3, I think.”

She’s right - then how did you get back?

You bite your lip, thinking for a bit. 

“Maybe it was Eddie. I’ll call him and ask.”

Nancy nods. “Alright, yeah. Either way, you got back safe. Sorry about the hangover, though.”

You wave her off. “It’s my own fault - I went too hard last night. I’m just going to try to sleep it off, I guess.”

After Nancy leaves, you take a nice, long shower - you feel utterly disgusting, still in last night’s sweaty clothes and smudged makeup. You let last night’s bad decisions cascade down your skin and into the drain, sighing as the shower semi-revives you. 

By the time you’re out and drying off, your stomach has settled a bit more. The headache has only gotten a bit worse, though. You open the medicine cabinet, only to find the bottle of Ibuprofen missing. Did Nancy use it and forget to put it back? You don’t want to go rifling through her room, so you trudge back to your bedroom, praying she can find it when she gets back.

Pulling on a baggy t-shirt and pajama shorts, you reach for the phone on your bedside table - you punch in Eddie’s number, sitting on the edge of your bed as you twirl the cord with your finger. He picks up almost straight away.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Eddie - it’s me.”

“Whoa! She lives!” he cries out, laughing. You wince.

“Can you not yell, please?”

“Uh oh - are you feeling a little… delicate?”

“Fuck you,” you murmur, falling back onto your mattress. 

“I’m only teasing -”

“Yeah, whatever. Listen - did I make an idiot out of myself?”

“How much do you remember?”

“Uh - I remember playing Kings… and not a ton after that. I remember little things here and there, but… were we dancing?”

“You were dancing. On the kitchen table, if I remember.”

You groan, letting your head fall into your free hand.

“Oh God -”

“It’s all good, listen - people thought it was fun, I swear.”

“Yeah, if you say so… did I throw up?”

Silence on the other end.

“Oh fuck -”

“Only actually in the toilet, though - well, someone’s Solo cup at one point. Then it was all the bathroom after that, I swear. I really don’t think a lot of people saw that part though, the night was kind of winding down.”

“You swear?”

“Positive. Even I was leaving at that point. Don’t know if you got worse after that, though.”

You sit up suddenly, despite your body’s protests.

“You - what?”

“Listen, I didn’t want to leave you, but Argyle’s buddy Jonathan offered to drive us, and he didn’t want someone who might get sick in his car -”

“But wait, hold on - how did I get home? I thought you got me back -”

“Oh - you really don’t remember, huh?”

“Well - no.”

“Don’t get mad, but -”

“But what?”

“It was Steve. He drove you home.”

You pause, opening your mouth a few times to say something, but not finding the words.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, Harrington only had like, two beers all night, so he said he could take you back.”

“I - oh.”

What you wanted to say was, why the fuck would he do that?

“So… yeah. Sorry about that. But, I’m glad you made it back okay.”

“Yeah - mm hm…” you murmur absentmindedly. You hear a shrill beeping sound through the phone, making you wince.

“Sorry - fuck, Gareth set off the fucking fire alarm again. Sorry, I -”

“No, it’s okay. Go deal with that. I just… wanted to make sure you knew I’m alive.”

“Glad to hear it,” he says, and you can practically what your friend’s grin through the phone. “Gotta go - drink water, eat some fries, bye -”

Click.

You sit there in silence for a few moments, brow furrowed - Steve? Did you really make a drunk fool of yourself in front of him? You groan - he’ll definitely find a way to use this as leverage. How did he even get you inside? Did you throw up in his car - Christ, you hope not.

Worst of all… now you owe Steve Harrington, of all people.

It’s as you’re making peace with this horrible realization that you finally spot the Ibuprofen - there it is, in plain sight, on your bedside table. The bottle is conveniently right there, somehow, with a glass of water. You hadn’t noticed it in your hungover stupor earlier - when you reach for it, you realize it’s sitting on top of a note with untidy scrawl that reads:

Take some of this - you’re going to need it, sweetheart. 

-Harrington

You stare at it dumbfoundedly, then scoff.

Motherfucker.

author's note: I'm back! I took a bit of a hiatus, but I'm back in the swing of writing. I wont lie though... this is barely proofread. So, please be kind. This is a slow burn, so don't expect real smut for a few more chapters. But, let me know your thoughts, and I hope you enjoyed!