#he never said he was against making their bodies explode under the pressure

[somanywips]

Au where Sanji's a siren, but he's like. Kinda bad at it? Like, he's beautiful and if he sings you Will fall in love instantly and Will try to follow him to the depths of the ocean, but he doesn't like seeing people drown.

Something happens and he gains legs, but if he sings his voice still traps people and he gets his tail back if he gets fully submerged in the ocean. So he never sings, because he doesn't want people to love him because of his voice, but because of himself.

In comes Zoro, who is not affected by Sanji's voice At All, finds it really annoying actually (he's a liar he loves it but that's because he saw Sanji cave someone's skull in with a single kick and immediately fell in love). So Sanji immediately goes I Need To Have His Babies (they have five, they might have stolen two of them). Except Sanji is horrible at flirting so all he does is annoy Zoro endlessly and goad him into a fight (it works)

[leth-writes]

yandere silco x reader who betrayed him

“Shit, get out!” You screeched, shoving the enforcer forward and away from you as you spotted Sevika’s harsh snarl from across the crowded, dimly lit bar. He booked it, running for the backdoor. You were so fucked. You tried to follow him, but were stopped by Sevika’s strong grasp on your forearm.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She growled, spitting mad, in your face.

“N-nothing! I was just telling him to leave me alone,” you stammered, feeling the blood drain from your face and the adrenaline pour down your spine. It felt like your head was going to explode from the pressure of your thoughts racing, trying to create an excuse. 

“Bullshit,” she huffed, dragging you through the back exit after the enforcer. When the two of you entered the alleyway, the enforcer was nowhere to be seen, not even a hint of him to be found. “Shit,” she cursed, spitting. She whipped you around and slammed you to the brick wall, hand holding you up solely by your throat.

“You better tell the truth, you little rat, Silco isn’t here to save you…” She punched the wall by your head and you startled even further, letting out a little whimper of fear. “Please, please Sevika! I promise, I swear on my soul, I wasn’t doing anything!” You cried, fingers clutching and scrabbling at her thick, coiled forearm.

She huffed once again, face turned to look out the entrance of the alley in contemplation. “Ple-” you began, but her free hand shifted to cover your mouth, hand reaching from your nose down your chin. Fuck, you couldn’t breathe! You didn’t want to die in this dingy little alley, never having escaped your captivity. You scrabbled against the brick walls, fingernails breaking under the force, then scratched at her forearm, leaving long, deep grooves that soon welled up with blood.

You tried to gasp, to get even a breath of air through the tight grip of her fingers, but it was futile. Slowly, ever so slowly, your world began to darken, the ringing in your ears drowning out Sevika’s harsh panting. Then, everything went dark.

It was cold, so cold you couldn’t feel your fingers. That was the first thing you noticed as you bolted awake. You were in the chair in Silco’s back room, strapped down with thick leather ropes and wearing an undershirt and your thin, cloth pants. How did you get here?

“I imagine I’ve been keeping your chain a little too long, little one,” You jumped at Silco’s voice, head craning to see him without any luck. He was standing behind you. The room was dingy and dark, a complete lack of visibility for your groggy, grimy eyes. You blinked fiercely, trying to clear them.

It was then you noticed the thick leather strap clamping your mouth closed, tongue brushing against the rough, grime-coated material. It was then the memory hit you, as your head throbbed; Sevika had caught you, and she had knocked you out. Fuck, were you going to die in this chair, was he going to inject you with shimmer, contort and change your body beyond your control until you were unrecognizable?

You whimpered once again, arms straining against the thick straps as you tried to break even a single hand free. You failed. “Hush now, there’s no use in struggling. I won’t be making the same mistake again,” Silco said, the soft hint of a threat in his voice. He sauntered closer, hand trailing along your shoulder as he crossed in front of you. Silco leaned in until his lips barely brushed the material of the leather gag. “It’s not your fault, poor thing, I forgot you needed extra… guidance. A stupid little thing, aren’t you, unable to learn not to bite your owner even as he feeds you,” he continued, hand reaching up to grasp at your chin gently.

“Well, no use fretting now, it’s too late. We’ll have to start over, right from the beginning.”

Your muffled pleas went unheeded as Silco reached for the thin metal shock collar on his desk.

[damiansgoodgirll]

Can I get some rough smurt with damian priest PLEASEE 🙏🙏🙏

okay i don’t usually do rough smut because personally i don’t feel like i’m good at writing them as i don’t read much of them but i made an exception for this request

damian priest x reader

‼️rough damian, dom!damian, sub!reader, slapping (?), praise and degradation, everything that regards smut basically, overstimulation, subspace, aftercare!!! + i’m not good at writing these type of requests so i hope you enjoy it‼️

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

faster

damian was known for many things.

for being an excellent wrestler, for being the new world heavyweight champion, for being a tattoo lover and for being an important member of the judgment day. what people didn’t know was that he was also known for being the greatest lover you ever had. he always took you on romantic dates, he never missed an important occurrence like your anniversary, he always brought you gifts home and he always prioritised you.

and what people also didn’t know is that the sweet and kind facade of his lover personality turned into a starving animal anytime he got you naked under his touch.

so maybe your neighbours would hear all the pornographic sounds you were making but you didn’t care.

the way he had you ass up in the air, thrusting in and out of you, making the bed creak against the wall was enough to make you come and scream damian’s name.

“you came already?” he asked, smirking seeing how easily he could break you “i’m not done with you hermosa…turn around” and you did as he told you.

not to mention that he already made you cum twice just with his experienced fingers.

he smiled seeing your teary face. he smiled even more when he saw the remaining drops of his cum near your lips and nose. he knew you and your body so well.

“gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked and you simply nodded “ i asked you a question so i expect a proper answer” he said before his strong hand collided with your ass, making you slightly jump.

“y-yes sir” you whispered, your ass burning for the sensation.

“good girl, don’t make me slap you again…”

“okay sir” he seemed satisfied with your answer so he continued his dangerous game with you.

he thrusted in you in full force, making you clench around his dick.

“fuck…” he groaned “don’t do that or i’ll punish you…”

“o-okay sir…”

he loved every second of it.

one of his strong hands went to wrap around your neck, adding a little bit of the pressure he knew you loved.

in result of his action, you clenched again around him “what did i say?”

“fuck…sorry sir…”

“you better behave or i won’t let you cum again…” he groaned.

“no no please…i’ll behave…” you cried out.

“you better, don’t come until i say so…” he whispered into your ear making you shiver.

“okay sir…” you moaned as he started moving inside of you. he brought one of your leg over his muscular shoulder. that position hitting spot inside of you that made you see stars “oh fuck papi…”

“you like that?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“yes sir, please…so good” he smiled seeing how power he had over you.

he kept praising you, telling you how good you were for him and the familiar feeling you loved so much started to build up.

“faster…” you moaned.

usually damian would have done the opposite of what you asked, showing you who was in control but seeing your face covered in cum and tears made him soften a little so he allowed you to be in charge for that split of second.

“don’t cum before i say so” he reminded you, not sure you understood his words.

“dam…” he slapped your ass “fuck, sir…”

“that’s good” he smiled.

“please…” you begged, not sure what you were begging for. everything was too much, the pleasure and the pain, you loved every second of it “please…please…”

“please what uh? use your words” his hand put a little more pressure on your neck while he kept moving inside of you.

“please i -…” words caught in your throat.

you couldn’t focus anymore. your body was on fire, ready to explode, you were about to cum but at the same time you didn’t want to disappoint damian as he told you to wait for him.

“i said use your words” he remarked, going faster as you asked him to do.

“i can’t please…let me come please sir…” tears streaming down your face, mascara mixing with the remaining cum from before, a beautiful sight for damian to see.

“hold it” he simply said.

“no no no���i can’t i can’t…” the way your body was shaking under damian’s touch made him realise that you were on the edge so he slowed his movements just to play with you a little.

you slowly opened your teary eyes just to meet with his beautiful ones.

“what color are you on pretty girl? do you want me to stop?” he checked in with you, making sure to never push you too far. he enjoyed it as long as you were enjoying it too and hurting you wasn’t on his list.

“no no, please…don’t stop…i’m good” you whispered making him smile.

the hand that was before on your neck, now gently moved some of your sweaty hair away from your face.

“color?” he asked again.

“so fucking green…please, i just need to come sir” you moaned once he reprised his speed.

“my little slut wants to come uh?” he smirked at you, seeing how quickly you nodded your head “you want to come on my dick so bad that it’s the only thought you had in that little brain of yours uh?” and once again, you nodded.

“please sir…”

“then come on my dick, now” he said with a stern voice. his dick hitting that spot again and again made you sink your nails into damian’s back, probably leaving some marks. the pleasure you were feeling was something you’ve never experienced before. you were so lost in your mind that you didn’t feel damian coming right inside of you. still high on the pleasure, you kept clenching around his shaft making him shake from pleasure too.

you slowly opened your eyes when you felt damian’s lips on your neck, gently kissing the bruises he left on you.

he knew you were still high on your pleasure when he saw your look. he smiled seeing you so peaceful, knowing that he’s the reason you feel at ease right now.

“come back to me pretty girl…” he whispered against your ear “come back baby”

it took you a few minutes to realise what was going on around you, only when you saw damian laying next to you, your brain connected “oh shit…” you whispered.

“are you alright? was it too much?” he always asked you if you were okay, especially right after a rough session like that. it wasn’t always like that with damian, some nights were more intimate, some weren’t. some nights he would take his time just to pleasure you, some nights he would let you be in charge and some other nights he would be the one in charge. some other nights he would treat you like his personal slut just for him to use but he knew you wouldn’t do it if you didn’t have a 100% trust in him and he felt so grateful because you put all of your trust in him.

“i’m okay…just a little tired” you smiled.

“let me get you a towel, and something to drink” he smiled leaving for just a few minutes. he came back with a clean towel in hands, a glass of water and some of your favourite biscuits “close your eyes for me…let me remove my work of art” he joked making you chuckle.

he carefully cleaned your face, removing the remaining cum and tears present on your face. he then proceeded to clean between your thighs, moving slowly between your folds “i know i’ll be quick, i don’t want you to feel uncomfortable” he reassured you when he saw you closing your legs “and all done…” he smiled, kissing your thighs and going up from chest to neck.

“thanks…” you whispered.

“is there anything that hurts? i know i’ve been too hard on you…” he asked a little concerned.

“i’m perfectly fine…just tired and probably i won’t be able to walk for a day or two” you laughed “but i’m okay, i promise, i enjoyed it a lot”

he slowly turned your face to face him, his hand gently caressing your cheek “i love you y/n, so much, thank you for trusting me with this, with your body and soul…i’m so lucky to have you in my life, never forget that”

“i know…” you smiled at his kind words, reminder that probably was for him instead of you, just to remind him that no matter how many times he called you a slut in bed, no matter how many times he degraded you, he would always love you and cherish you with every inch of his heart.

[throneofsapphics]

hello! can i get an iced hazelnut chai with whipped cream and cinnamon <3

absolutely you can!

summary: azriel, forced proximity with fluff, spice, and angst

warnings: not very descriptive but still smut, angst

coffee bar celebration

“I can't look at you,” he stood by the window, hands braced against the glass planes. “Every time I look at you, I think about doing something stupid.”

You weren't certain you wanted to know what stupid impulses he was having.

His shadows were nearly encasing the room, poking at all the barriers and wards placed to keep the two of you in.

“We could just make a plan to kill our High Lord,” you said the title with a hint of mocking disdain, enough he would know it was a joke. Azriel never took threats against his friends lives lightly.

His chest shook, but not a sound escaped him.

Your mouth tightened into a thin line. In the past, he'd always let his laughter loose around you. Always. Fists clenched at your side, a shadow swirled around one and you released them.

One hand still placed firmly on the glass, Azriel pivoted just enough for his face to become clear. Beautiful, raw, and threatening to drag you under.

Insisting you could stay friends was bullshit, this would never work. You tried to reach out to Rhys and tell him that, but the normal channel he kept open between the two of you was airtight.

This time, you turned around, facing the mirror.

Eyes tired, bags underneath, hair disheveled, face wan. You looked a mess.

“Every time I look at you,” you tore your gaze, still in the mirror, away from your own reflection to find Azriel watching, his reflection wavering slightly. He cleared his throat. “Every time I look at you, I don't know if I want to go drown myself in liquor or kiss you until you can't remember your own name.”

Goosebumps trickled down your spine, one after another like a haunting melody playing its tunes on your body.

“There's plenty I'd like to forget right now,” you swallowed, pulse jumping in your throat.

“Oh?” You spun around, ready to curse him to an eternity, but Azriel was in front of you, so close that if you arched your back your breasts would brush against his chest. “What, exactly would you like to forget?”

“You,” you spit the word with as much venom as you could manage, and he laughed.

Planting both palms on his chest, you shoved. He didn't move. Unsurprisingly.

“You're an asshole,” you hissed.

“And you wouldn't have it any other way,” mirth danced in his eyes, pressure built in your chest, ready to explode.

Before you could say another word, he leaned in and kissed you. His lips were soft, gentle, and you found yourself falling into familiar patterns, into that dance of decades you'd done for far too long, before logic overrode the other parts of you thinking too much.

You gripped his chin, shoving his head to the side, away from you, and stepped backwards. Your back hit the dresser.

Perhaps for the first time, you saw the shadowsinger shocked. You'd never rejected a single advance from him before. Good. Maybe he should get used to rejection.

But … your soul was clawing and scraping in your chest, begging to be reunited with the one it thought completed it. It was wrong.

“You don't get to kiss me to keep me quiet,” you seethed.

“That's not what I meant to do,” his voice was dry, perhaps a tad bored, but you saw the plea in his eyes. The truth.

Crossing the two steps between you, you gripped the front of his leathers.

“Promise?” You didn't know what you were asking him to promise.

“Always,” he answered, not missing a beat.

This time when you walked him back, Azriel moved easily. When you undid the laces on his leathers and rode him, he thrust his hips up into you. When your eyes met, he held the contact, gripping you chin so you would too. When he flipped you on your back and pushed your legs up to your chest, he moaned loud enough Rhys's wards couldn't possibly keep the sound out.

When you'd driven each other to completion, your head resting on Azriel's chest, his arms wrapped tight around you, you thought perhaps you were always destined to burn hot and fast, but maybe there's a chance this could work.

[slutforleeminho]

I have a Suggestion • Han Jisung

Jisung has a suggestion as to how to help you with your insanely high sex drive

You would never consider yourself a slut, but the constant ache in your lower region made it difficult to keep your pants on. You discovered this in high school when you’d come home and make a b line straight to your nightstand where you kept your vibrator and some lube just in case. But you never needed it, your panties were always soaked at the end of the day. The littlest things would get your heart rate up and body burning with need, like that one time freshman year when a very handsome boy had to squeeze between you and someone else, placing his hands on your hips and slipping through the small space, rubbing his entire front against your back and his lower half against your ass. You had to run to the bathroom the relieve the pressure that was building up. And that very same boy is now someone you would trust with your life.

Han Jisung.

He was your best friend and also the only person who knows about your problem. Well it wasn’t a problem at first but it turned into one when you started to go out every Friday and Saturday night with intentions to get railed by complete strangers. And jisung didn’t like that at all. “Are you trying to get aids?” He’d asked you after the third weekend of you going out and not coming home till the morning. And then he started staying over at your place on the weekends just to hold you hostage so you could go out and fall into temptation. But little did he know he wasn’t making it any easier on you, especially when he walked around your apartment in nothing but a towel hanging lowly on his hips, showing off his toned stomach and a prominent v line disappearing underneath the material. And a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, while he walked to the room to grab something out of his bag. He always slept in your bed with you, “to make sure you don’t run off in the middle of the night” he explained while settling under the blankets and letting out a satisfied hum. You didn’t mind sharing a bed with him at all, but it made it difficult on the nights you so desperately needed to touch yourself. And you won’t even lie, sometimes…. you did, with your best friend less than a foot away from you. And you could’ve swore that those nights your orgasms were so much more intense. But you couldn’t figure out why.

It was currently Saturday night and jisung was in the kitchen making you both dinner. It was a sweet gesture but it made your whole body heat up from the sight of him. You finally decided to stop ogling him and walk into the kitchen, and throw your top half over the kitchen island and groan as loud groan of frustration. “Can I pleeeeease just go out tonight? I’ll only be gone for a couple hours.” You smile up at him, giving him your best puppy dog eyes, hoping the cuteness would seduce him into letting you leave, your underwear is probably already ruined so you need to get out of here before you do something you’ll regret. “No” is all he says, continuing on the food. “You let you head fall onto the counter, with a loud thump and a whine coming from your mouth. “This is so annoying” you started flopping around like a fish, your whole body convulsing. “You aren’t my dad y’kow” your voice somewhat muffled by your hair thrown all over your face. “I might as well be, now get up before you get your hair in the food. Why are you whining anyways?” He asked as you straightened you body and fixed your hair.

“It’s uh… kinda tmi” You avoided eye contact by looking at you hands.

“Well go ahead. I already know all your dirty secrets anyway” Did he know you masterbate with him right next to you while you look at his beautiful face as a visual? Probably not.

You took a deep breath and said it before you could think too much about it and chicken out. “I already got off this morning and I still feel like I’m gonna explode. So please let me go out.” Your voice was high pitched. “I have a better idea” You waited for him to continue, open to anything at this point. “ let’s watch porn together, and you can touch yourself if you want too. But I don’t want you out there sleeping around with other guys.” You were stunned for a moment but then imagining the outcome of this. “I don’t know. I get really….. weird when I’m in the mood.” You said recalling the other times you’ve almost gone crazy chasing after your high. “I don’t think straight and I take things too far.”

“I’m okay with whatever you choose as long as you stay.” You could already feel list clouding you senses and you don’t think you couldn’t go without some kind of release tonight. You finally agreed after some time and jisung reassuring you that nothing would change between the both of you and that this was just him helping you out as a friend. He placed his laptop on the coffee table in the living room and pulled up the website “he often uses” he had said. You both sat in the floor in front of it, your backs pressed against the sofa. “What do like to watch?” He turned his head to look at you, while you were staring at the choices on the computer screen, all of the were just regular maleXfemale in missionary. You looked back at jisung almost embarrassed to tell him what you always watch but you do anyways.

“Lesbian” Your voice lower than a whisper. Jisungs eyes got bigger and his dick twitched in his pants. If he wasn’t hard earlier (which he was, seeing you get all needy and beg to let you go out and get dicked down) he was now. He nodded and clicked on the search bar to type it out, and letting you pick which video. You clicked on a video by you favorite creators. A sweet couple, both beautiful, and one of them had the sweetest moans. The video is mostly forplay, one of the girls sucking on her tits and groping her ass and eventually rubbing her middle finger up and down her cunt, making her whimper and grind against her hand. You glanced over at jisung, his arms were crossed and his legs were spread, giving you the perfect view of his hard on. His eyebrows were scrunched together in concentration and his lip tucked between is teeth. He was breathing heavily and you could tell he was just as horny as you were now. “I’ll be right back” you said, abruptly standing up and heading to you room. You returned with a blanket and jisung thought nothing of it, you were probably just cold. But as time went on he noticed a little bit of movement under the blanket right in between your thighs. He was so focused on the slight movements he didn’t notice you were staring at him, not halting your movements even a little. When he did look up and meet your gaze he almost came in his pants. You looked so fucked out already, your lips parted and eyebrows scrunched a little from the pleasure, but what really had him going was the way you were looking at him while you did it. I. Fact your hand sped up once you made eye contact and you looked him up and down. “Touch yourself” you finally said. “I don’t have a blanket” he smirked looking down at your covering. You flung it from off your body and threw it at him. “Here you can have mine” you retorted. His jaw almost hit the floor when his eyes scanned over your body. Your short you were wearing earlier we’re now around your ankles along with your underwear. But what shocked him the most is that the movement under that blanket wasn’t just your hand rubbing your cunt, it was a pink dildo. So that must’ve been why you went to your room.

Even with Jisungs eyes on you, you didn’t stop your movements, still plunging the toy in and out of your dripping cunt. He sat there for a moment, surprised by your boldness. “Jisung” he pulled his eyes away from your body to look at your face. “That looks painful” your eyes trailed down his own body. His eyes followed to where yours were looking, and landed on his crotch, where his jeans have gotten significantly tighter. “Ji please” your voice was airy. You rarely called him that unless you were really desperate and trying to convince him of something. He finally gave in and placed his hand over his bulge and started palming himself through his pants. Letting out a sigh of relief, you were right, it was getting painful. But that only lasted a few minutes before you wanted more. “Take off your pants” It went on like that until his pants and underwear were discarded and joined the pile of your own clothes. He was lazily stroking his cock while staring at the screen. While you were staring and him. His toned thighs, the way his hand wrapped around his length, the precum beading at the tip before he swiped his thumb over it to use as lubricant. It was making your insides flutter. Soon he was aggressively pulling at his cock, trying to relieve the building pressure growing in his lower abdomen. You were fucking yourself at the same pace, attempting to match his movements. You were both getting so close but you just couldn’t seem to fully get there. “Ji…. “ he snapped his head in your direction to see what you needed, only find you with your head thrown back over the couch cushion with your eyes screwed shut and you face contorted in pleasure.

Were you…… moaning his name?

Your eyes slowly opened and your head tilted to look at him one last time before you exploded. “Fuck Ji” you let out a drawn out moan and you whole body convulsed and twitched as the wave of pleasure crashed over you. Jisung couldn’t help but watch as you reached your end, squeezing himself a little harder while thrusting up into his hand while spurts of cum painted his hand and thighs. His hand slowed as he came down from his high even though he was still hard. But you didn’t stop, you kept going even after your orgasm. You arched your back from the overstimulation but kept going while letting out small whimpers. “Not enough” you said quietly, still out of breath. “What do you mean?” Jisung asked, clearly confused. “It’s not enough Ji I need……” your wrist finally slowed and you pulled the toy out of you and set it to the side. You sat up straight and looked into his eyes. “I need you to fuck me Jisung” his eyes widen and his lips parted like he wanted to respond but he couldn’t. “Please” you begged.

He wasn’t about to miss possibly his only chance to be with you.

“I thought you’d never ask” he shot up from his spot on the floor and hovered over you, placing his lips to your neck and his hands on your covered breasts. You moaned as he sucked on the most sensitive spots on your neck and collar bone. He raised your shirt up until it was over your head and thrown across the room. Once you were completely exposed to him he dove into your chest, sucking and licking at your nipple and then moving to give the same attention to the other one. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, gently pulling and urging him to continue. He trailed down your abdomen and lest soft kisses on your inner thighs. After some encouraging from your whines and whimpering he finally licked a long stripe up your center before diving in and sucking on your clit.

“Shit Ji” your back arched and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. His tongue worked wonders on you, pushing in and out of your entrance and nudging you closer to the edge once more. He pushed two fingers inside of you and curled them while roughly sucking on your clit. Your fingers pulled harshly at his hair making him moan. The vibrations shot through your body and your legs began to shake and your body convulsed as your second orgasm hit you hard. Your thighs wrapped around his head and his tongue slowed as you came down from your high.

Before he could even say a word you were pulling him up to you and begging for more. “I need you inside me” you wrapped your legs around his torso and pulled his shirt off of him. “You weren’t kidding when you said you don’t think straight” he smirked down at you. “Do you wanna stop?” You raised your eyebrows at him, daring him to say yes. “No” is all he said. “Good, cause I might cry if we do.” He was about to say something smart but you cut him off by kissing him. Aggressive. Aggressive was the only word to describe it. All teeth and tongue, moaning into each other’s mouth. Desperate to feel something, anything, you placed you hand around his throbbing cock and aligned it with you core, squeezing it slightly. You ground your hips upwards and his tip pressed against your entrance but didn’t quite enter. You were the first one to break the kiss. “Please just put it in Ji” you felt like you would explode if you didn’t release soon. “You’ve tortured me enough tonight”

“Oh not nearly enough” he was smiling ear to ear which worried you.

“Save it for another time”

“There’ll be another time?”

“If you don’t want me going out then yes” apparently that was all it took for him to finally push in, filling you up perfectly. The stretch was amazing, he may not be the biggest guy you’ve been with but he was at least in the top five.

His thrust started out slow but soon sped up, per your request. He was hitting every spot just right, making your toes curl. You ran your hand down his abdomen, he didn’t have abs but he was toned, and the firmness was making you clench around him. With every thrust you could see his muscles clench and unclench, you could hear his heavy breathing and quiet moans. You could see a thin layer of sweat building on his skin, the way his hair was sticking to his forehead and his lips were parted. His eyes were screwed shut, probably trying his hardest not to cum to soon. You never looked so closely at the people you slept with, but now you were taking in every detail of him, drinking in the way he moans your name and holds you so tight. It was so intimate and was going to have you coming for the third time very soon. “Oh my gosh” was all you could get out before you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you, and moaning his name as your walls clamped around him making it hard for him to move. But the tightness made his hips stutter and suddenly he was spilling his seed into you without a warning.

He collapsed on top of you, unable to move as he came back to earth. Your fingers played with his sweaty hair while you both just layer in your living room floor completely naked. “That was the best idea you’ve ever had” you stared at the ceiling until he lifted his head to look at you. “Are you satisfied now?” He asked jokingly. “I could go another round” you answered not so jokingly.

PLEASE READ

First i would like to say THANK YOUUU SO MUCH FOR 200 FOLLOWERS!!!!!!! This is so exciting! And I would also like to apologize for not being active. After the passing of Astro member Moonbin and some personal things happened, I felt like I needed a break from everything. And after this incident I created a twitter and instagram account dedicated to saying kind things about skz. I know people say we can’t help them but I’m sure as hell going to try. They’ll probably never see it and that’s fine but I just want them to know how loved they are. Please I beg you go follow it so it can grow and reach more stays and possibly skz, it’s stayville143 and you can dm that account of something you would like to say about them and I’ll surely post it. I’m so sorry for the long message but I’m tired of seeing these idols lose their lives to hate. And I don’t think I could take it if something happened to any of straykids.

Taglist: @yumiblogs

[lulublack90]

Prompt 27 - Diplomacy

@jegulus-microfic April 27, Word count 760

Previous part First part

He couldn’t believe Regulus was just going along with it. The boy’s hands were in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. He’d never felt anything like it. James needed him to be closer, needed to feel him. So, without warning, James put his hands under his skinny thighs, and lifted him into the air, using the wall to take some of the pressure off his arms, he held Regulus. 

Regulus let out a small gasp as his feet left the floor. James had fully expected to be punched, but Regulus reacted positively. He wrapped his legs around James’s waist and deepened their kiss with his newfound height. 

James felt his whole body melting. He wanted to stay in this moment forever. Nothing mattered, only the boy in front of him. 

They broke apart, panting, hearts racing, gulping down air into their oxygen-starved lungs.

“Hi,” James smiled at him, tilting his head, so he could look into those sparking eyes. 

“Hi,” Regulus murmured back, the hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. James let his head thump forward into Regulus's chest and Regulus tangled his fingers still further into the short unruly curls. He angled his head and pressed open-mouthed kisses into Regulus’s neck.   

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” They froze as Sirius’s voice broke the silence of their corridor. “Get your hands off my brother!” James and Regulus looked at each other this was not going to go well. James tried to convince himself that all they needed was a little diplomacy, but with Sirius’s hot temper and Regulus’s sharp tongue, it would be a challenge to keep them quiet enough not to get caught out of bounds after curfew. 

Slowly, he lowered Regulus to the floor, and together they turned and raised their hands to Sirius.

“Why are you raising your hands?” He asked Regulus, confused. 

“I wasn’t sure which brother he was referring to, so I thought I’d better be safe.” He shrugged. James let out an almighty snort and had to bury his face in his arm to quell the laughter.

“Put your hands down you idiots.” Sirius rolled his eyes at the pair. “I came looking for you when I noticed you weren’t in bed. This,” He waved his hands at them. “Was not what I expected to find.” He looked wild like he was about to explode at any provocation. 

“It’s none of your business what we do, Sirius.” Regulus drawled. “I don’t know why you think you can make a fuss.” All mirth left James as he quickly started damage control to hopefully stop Sirius from seeing red. 

“Sirius go back up to the dorm, I’ll meet you there,” He cut Sirius off before he could complain. “I’m going to take Reg back to the Slytherin Common room first.” 

“I don’t need an escort, Potter.” Regulus griped. But James ignored him and began to pull out the invisibility cloak. Sirius stormed forward, shoved his hand into James’s pocket and stole the Marauder’s Map. 

“Best hurry, Prongs. I’ll be watching.” And with that, Sirius turned on his heel and disappeared into darkness. 

James sighed and covered himself and Regulus with the cloak. 

“You don’t need to do this, I am quite capable of getting back on my own.” Regulus clearly wasn’t happy. James grinned at him and, making sure Sirius was well and truly gone, pushed Regulus back against the wall and kissed him again. All the fight went out of the other boy. 

“We’ve got a couple of minutes before we need to move. Sirius will think we’re bickering still.” James said, pulling away for a moment before pressing his lips against Regulus’s again. 

Regulus turned his head slightly, breaking the kiss.

“What does this mean?” Regulus asked, his eyes overly bright as though he was nervous. James shrugged.

“I don’t know, but I like it so far.” He grinned, wriggling his eyebrows. Regulus rolled his eyes in a strange imitation of his brother. He pushed James away from the wall, but grabbed his hand and started pulling him down the corridor towards the dungeons.  

“What was that bit of parchment?” Regulus asked as they walked.

“Oh,” James paused, he didn’t know if he could trust Regulus with that information. “Just a useful tool for Mischief makers.” He gave Regulus a final kiss before watching him enter the Slytherin’s secret entrance and headed back to Gryffindor Tower where his best friend waited for him. Maybe he’d go sleep in moaning Myrtle's bathroom, he’d probably get more rest.   

Next part

[distantdarlings]

WHAT FEELS LIKE FOREVER // t. nott (Multi-Part) PT. 2

RATING: R / 1.8K WORDS (Pt. 2)

Theodore Nott x Reader-Insert (No gender-specific details)

+ SUMMARY - Your first performance in America starts off roughly. Theo makes the decision to perform a song you wrote. The only problem is that you wrote that song for him, attempting to express your feelings towards him. He was never meant to find it.

+ WARNINGS - Language, tension, angst, eventual smut

+ MUSIC (Listened to while writing) -

Big Black Car - Gregory Alan Isakov

(Small note before I begin: I have been very inspired by Gregory Alan Isakov while writing these chapters and sort of imagined the band sounding like his music and Theo's singing voice sounding like his. Just wanted to mention that so y'all could be on the same page of imagination as I was if you wanted! :) Enjoy!)

---

Theo’s lips spoke the words you had written down in a small journal. Written—unbeknownst to him—for him.

The day Theo had caught you whispering the lyrics as you nursed an alcohol-stained cigarette beneath the stars, was the day the song had been discovered. Theo loved it instantly and demanded the two of you wrote the rest of it together and record it. You had kept your mouth closed for fear of a dry throat and a clenched heart saying things you truly meant.

Now the whole world knew how you felt when even you didn't know how you felt. It wasn't an ideal situation in the slightest and the knowing glances Mattheo and Enzo shot you made you feel even worse. 

"Everything you do…," you harmonized with Theo, hearing the way your breaths mingled through the amplifiers. Your chest ached with the dull knife of holding tears in. This song always fucked you up. How you’d begged Theo not to record it…

"...changes how I see us, how I saw us then…," your voice cracked under the pressure of the tears you were suppressing. Theo gave you an odd but worried glance. You swallowed thickly, looking down at the instrument in your hands, focusing on that rather than your screw-up and the sobs that pushed rapidly up your throat.

You finished off the chorus successfully, having stared at the lights trained on the stage until the tears receded. This was your last song…or it wasn't…you couldn't remember and you didn't care. You swiftly slipped the strap of your bass off your shoulders and set the instrument down on its stand.

If you didn't get out now, you would explode. The heat and the lights and the crowd and Theo and Enzo and Mattheo—it was too much. You pushed through the backstage door and felt the autumn air abuse the sweat on your neck. Your hands spread over the balcony, holding your weak back up. The tears that threatened to spill rose in your throat once more. You hurriedly loosened your tie and unbuttoned the top button of your shirt, ripping the suit jacket off along with it. It was so stuffy in there and the cool air felt like the touch of an angel. 

Your head hung between your shoulders, feeling them shake with each sob that racked your body. The roots that had planted in your heart burned like a hot poker in your sternum, scorching through your ribs and skin from the inside-out.

You cried out at the pain caused by a single man and the way it felt to be without him. You needed to tell Theo how you felt but the fear of animosity coming from him scared the hell out of you. The thought of hatred any deeper than their normal arguments made you feel like you were dying.

The desire to feel Theo’s hands on your body was more than anything you’d ever felt in your life. It wasn't just a sexual thing. It was something much deeper than that and had been for a very long time. You feared his reaction more than death at this point. But you wanted—needed—to tell him. 

The backstage door opened much gentler than it had when you had come out. You could hear shoes scraping against the concrete and light exhales. You recognized the pattern of them, knowing the way Enzo breathed.

"Hey," the man said quietly, placing his hand on your back. His presence seemed to invoke a sense of tranquility almost instantly. Your cheeks dried and the pain alleviated a bit.

"Enzo, I—"

"I know." 

You shut up at this. You knew that he had known for a while now, it just felt odd speaking openly about it. It felt wrong but he seemed to make it alright.

"I don't know what to do…," you whispered.

"You will."

There were no more words after this. Only Enzo’s hand on your back and his gentle breathing that soothed you like a lullaby.

× × ×

When the group arrived back at the hotel—still, no words were spoken. Enzo’s hand no longer touched your back and his breathing was too far away to hear. 

Theo did not look at you once and your neck ached with the weight of the older's coldness. You could taste the bitter mood on your tongue and you tried to swallow it, but it remained. The aftertaste seemed to be stronger.

The silence became almost suffocating once you had stepped through the door to your hotel room. You shut it and collapsed against the broadside of it, sliding the length of your spine down its surface. 

You brought your knees to your chest and buried your face between the two of them, covering your ears with your arms. Radio static and honeyed oatmeal voices rang in your head at a deafening volume. You sighed at the aggressive cacophony within your brain, wishing desperately for it to stop.

You had to tell Theo—that much was obvious. But how? If you were going to get practical, you’d technically already told him. You’d confessed when he had found the song. But the older man hadn't known this.

You pulled himself from the floor and approached the cream telephone that sat menacingly on the bedside table. Your breathing picked up uncomfortably, making a bit of panic set in. Your fingers closed around the receiver and you brought to your ear. You called the front desk and asked for Theo’s room number. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears at the anticipation. 

"Who's this?"

"Um…Theo, it's me."

"Oh," the voice on the other end chuckled. "I thought you were some crazy fan or something. What's up, love?"

"C—" you choked on your words, your throat swelling as if a pillow had been shoved down it. "Can you come to my room, please?"

There was a silence on the other end that lasted only a few milliseconds. It was most likely Theo hearing the question and making a decision, but it felt like years to you. The fingernails on your free hand creased into the flesh of your palm so deeply you could've sworn you were drawing blood.

"Yeah, sure thing," he spoke. "I’ll be right over. Do you want me to bring my pillow?"

"If you want," you said, a breath of air slipping past your lips in delighted relief.

"Alright," he whispered into the phone, the crackly connection making it seem as if Theo was there next to you already.

The line went dead and, still, you stood there, with the phone pressed to your ear. It was as if you were waiting for him to come back and tell you he was just kidding. That he would never help you out or stay with you.

Your throat felt tight again. but the feeling did not remain when there was a knock at your door. The phone slipped from your fingers and clattered against the dresser, dangling against each individual drawer.

You made your way to the door and pulled it open—perhaps a bit too harshly. Theo waited on the other side with his pillow tucked beneath his arm. He was already in his night clothes—the same trousers and shirt as this morning on the beach. 

"Hey," you spoke breathlessly.

"Hey," he replied, equally breathless as if he had run the whole way here. Your stomach tingled at the thought of him hurrying as fast as he could to see you. It made you feel as warm as if he had just wrapped you in a blanket.

Theo stepped in and threw his pillow on your bed, collapsing against the old mattress right after it. He made himself comfortable, slipping his feet beneath the duvet.

"I have to take a shower, okay?" you said.

"Of course—I'm not your mum," he chuckled which made the younger suppress a smile.

"Okay." 

You made quick with your work of grabbing your night clothes—the jumper and trousers you wore this morning—out of the dressers and exiting the room. You walked down the hallway to the communal showers at the end of it. You didn't like having to share showers with strangers but you reckoned it was better than nothing.

The shower was quick and hot and steamed up the bathroom fast. The moisture in the air filled your lungs and made it somewhat difficult to breathe. In an effort to get out of the suffocating room, you dressed quickly and hung your towel around your neck.

When you arrived back into the room, Theo had drifted off. His eyes were peacefully shut and his body was curled around his pillow like a child to its mother. Your chest ached at the small tells he seemed to have that always compared him to a young boy.

The duvet had been pulled up to his waist and tucked messily. He looked comfortable. 

You smiled softly and ran the towel over your hair once again, attempting to dry it a bit more. You threw the used material in the corner of the small closet and made your way over to the bed.

As gently as you could, you slipped beneath the heavy duvet and laid on your side, watching over Theo. You watched as his body rose and fell with stable breaths.

The older's eyes fluttered and he found yours. He was suddenly awake and glancing around.

"Oh, I'm sorry…I didn't mean to nod off like that," he sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. "What did you want to talk about, love?"

"Nothing, it's alright. Go back to sleep," you smiled, reaching over to pat the top of his hand.

"No, you wanted to talk, let's—"

"Really, Theo, go to sleep."

The older looked unsure but also incredibly tired. He sighed and leant his head back against his pillow. He seemed to be physically fighting sleep, trying his hardest to stay awake for his friend.

"Go to sleep," you whispered once again. You continued to watch as the young man drifted off again, his fingers curling around your hand, seeking subconscious comfort.

You stared at the two of your hands before slowly turning it over. You entwined your fingers with his, marvelling in how they looked together. 

"I love you, Teddy," you whispered to your sleeping love. You wondered if he was awake in the slightest and whether or not he'd heard. If he had, he said nothing.

You watched as the man's lips trembled under the weight of his dreams. You decided that you should probably go to sleep as well. You all had a big day tomorrow and you knew well enough that the man lying next to you was going to paint your dreams with gorgeous devastation.

Part 3!

[bigification]

Ex Jockifier - Male TF

Being the captain of the college football team is a lot of pressure, especially around big games where all eyes are on you. Though you feel the weight lift from your shoulders as you drive away from another successful win. Even better someone from your team is hosting a house party to celebrate.

You show up to the party, covered in your sweaty gear, as it was tradition at your college for the captain to wear his gear after a win. "Hey, the big man made it!" Your buddy yells from the living room. You never got why he called you big man since you weren't that big, but it didn't bother you that much. "Coach bought us a surprise, check it out!" Your bud says with a grin on his face as he drags you to what you could only describe as a futuristic portapotty in the middle of the living room. "Wtf is that!" You laugh at how ridiculous this box looks. "Coach called it the 'Ex Jockifier', said the man of the hour should test it out." He says while nudging you towards it. You assume it'll just have a funnel for booze in it and coach just wants you to let loose after a good game, so you willingly hop in.

You were right in assuming there would be a funnel for booze, but it seems too elaborate on the inside to just be that. Though it's too dark to see much else inside. You climb inside, sit in the surprisingly comfy chair, and put the tube in your mouth. Sure enough, some cheap tasting beer starts flowing through the tube. Normally this amount of beer would be hard for you to chug this fast, but it must have been light if it went down this easy. Before you knew it, you had already lost track of how much booze had entered your body, but you figured you would just go until the beer stopped coming. "How long has it been?" You ask yourself as the alcohol starts to kick in. You almost feel entranced, you don't even notice something starts rubbing your head. A couple nubs start massaging your head as you chug. "Damn this thing can massage too, sick!" You think as you fall deeper into your own mind, though there doesn't seem to be much there right now. Unbeknownst to you, similar nubs start to massage other parts of your body. The only thought you can muster is that it makes your skin feel warm and tight. How long have you been in there? It couldn't have been that long right, but it felt like forever ago that you got in. I mean who cares, the beer tastes better by the second and you feel amazing. As the thoughts get massaged out of your brain, the massage is having just as much impact on your body. You chiselled six pack and solid pecs slowly swell under the touch of the prongs. The bottom row of abs disappears into a pocket of fat, then the second row, then the third until only a flat stomach remains. Though it doesn't last long, as the prongs of the machine massage the now soft fat on your stomach grows and grows until a plump and round belly is all that's left. Your brain had the capacity to pay attention right now, you would hear the sound of your jersey ripping right open. A big rip formed directly in front of your gut, allowing it to lay freely on your thighs.

Your pecs fall to the same fate as your soft gut. They begin to swell until the massaging prongs, they grow further and further out from your body as they begin to hang over your gut. Once proud pecs now more resemble the man tits of a football dad who drink too much beer. Your nipples shift from the outside edge of your chest to the center of each moob, as they each swell to twice their original size. As you continue to grow, what's left of your jersey starts to look more and more like a bra before ripping, releasing your moobs from their prison.

The machine works its magic on the rest of your body, moving from part to part and leaving everything on your body plump and soft. Your ass explodes with fat, ripping through your shorts and leaving nothing but a jockstrap behind. Your thighs become massive trunks, permanently rubbing against eachother. Your feet grow many sizes, making your toes burst through the front of your now tiny shoes. Your arms follow the same trend as your legs, growing thick biceps and massive man hands, perfect for chucking big footballs.

By now, there is not a single thought crossed your mind, just enjoyment of the beer rapidly entering your massive stomach. Though something finally catches your attention as the machine grabs your dick under your jockstrap. Your dick stands up at the slightest touch from the machine, making you tense up. Your massive hands grin the side of the chair as the machine tugs on your dick, stretching it out but also multiplying its girth. Your dick grows until it is barely contained by your jock. As the machine was working your dick, it also began massaging your face. The sharp features of your face begin to soften as fat covers your jawline and your cheeks. Short stubble also starts to grow over your soft jaw and your double chin.

As fast as it began, it ended. All of the machines retracted and beer stopped flowing through the tube. "Fuuuuuuck dude." You chuckle. "Buuurrrrraaaappp!" You let out a massive belch as you get up, having to lean on the wall of the machine to balance yourself. "Fuck dude, I'm so fuuucked." You chuckle again as you keep adjusting your jock, trying in vain to find a comfortable position for your massive cock. "Damn dude, when did this box get so cramped man." You say as both your shoulders now touch either side of the box and you have to duck to even stand.

You whip open the door to see your team staring at you. "That.... Was.... So... Siiick!" You slurr your words. Without hesitation, the entire team starts cheering you on. "Where the fuck did your clothes go big man" your friends asks looking at your near naked body.

You look down at your tiny looking buddy, "Who tf needs clothes!" "You think you got any more room in there big guy." He says as he slaps your gut. "No but you do!" You respond as you toss him into the Ex Jockifier. "Have fun little man!"

The men took turns tossing each other into the machine, watching each one walk out taller, fatter, and much much dumber. The next practice, the coach had a full team of massive guys fully dedicated to only football, just like he planned. It's not like they were smart enough to do anything else other than drink and fuck.

[allisonbaelfire]

Amethyst. - PART 19

I woke up to the soft morning light seeping through the curtains, a rare sense of calm lingering in the room. For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together the events of the night. No nightmares. No cold sweats. Just… peace.

That never happens.

I rubbed my eyes, pushing myself up into a sitting position. My body still felt heavy from the patrol, the soreness a reminder of the long day before. But my mind was clear, a sharp contrast to the usual chaos that filled my dreams.

I glanced to the side, where the pillow next to me still held the faint indent of someone’s head. Bakugo. He had been there. My fingers brushed against the fabric, and I caught the scent of something lingering—strong, sharp, almost smoky, —like burnt caramel mixed with cedarwood, something bold but not overwhelming. It was unmistakably his.

So, I hadn’t imagined it. He really did stay.

I leaned back against the headboard, staring at the pillow for a second longer. Why did he leave? And why was I even wondering that? It was probably better this way. The last thing I needed was to overthink Bakugo of all people being… well, considerate. If I brought it up, he’d probably just deny it anyway. I wasn’t going to make a big deal out of this.

But still… why didn’t I have any nightmares when he was here?

I shook the thought away, knowing I didn’t have time to dwell on it. It was 6 a.m., and Best Jeanist wasn’t the type to let anyone slack off. Today, I’d need to be focused, not lost in the confusion of last night. I climbed out of bed and slipped into my hero suit—the familiar black and lilac design, built to withstand both fire and ice.

The agency was quiet this early, a few sidekicks who were up were already preparing for their assignments. I grabbed some coffee and toast in the cafeteria of the Agency, quickly finishing up before making my way to Best Jeanist’s office.

When I arrived, Bakugo was already there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed and staring out the window. He didn’t even acknowledge me as I entered.

I didn’t bother trying to get his attention. Instead, I found a spot by the door and waited. My mind was still buzzing with unanswered questions—about last night, about Bakugo’s strange display of restraint—but I pushed it down. None of that mattered right now. What mattered was proving myself to Best Jeanist.

Exactly at 7 a.m., the door opened, and Jeanist stepped in, his presence as composed and steady as always. “Punctuality is the foundation of discipline,” he said, his gaze flicking between Bakugo and me. “You both have shown that much, at least.”

His eyes lingered on me for a moment, sharp and analytical, as if trying to read something deeper. “Today,” he continued, “we will be testing your power. I need to see where each of you stands—not just in terms of strength, but in control. Power without control is a liability, both to yourselves and to those around you.”

Bakugo shifted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He looked ready to explode into action at the mere mention of power. Jeanist, however, wasn’t going to let him dive headfirst into it without testing his restraint. That much was clear.

“Bakugo,” Jeanist said, turning his attention to him. “You’ll be first. I want to see the extent of your quirk and how you manage it under pressure.”

Bakugo pushed himself off the wall, cracking his neck as he did so. “Finally,” he muttered under his breath, the eagerness in his voice barely contained.

Jeanist turned to me next. “Y/N, you will accompany one of my sidekicks on patrol while I work with Bakugo. But don’t think you’re being sidelined,” he added, his tone firm. “When you return, I will test you personally too. I need to understand not only your quirk but your control over it. Power is only as useful as your ability to manage it, and I intend to push you both.”

I nodded, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves twist in my stomach. It wasn’t just about showing off what I could do, it was about showing that I could handle it. That I could control the ice and fire inside me – which I couldn’t control at the same time.

Jeanist’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if sensing my thoughts. “At the end of the week, both of you will face each other in a sparring match. It will be your final test—to see not only how far you’ve come but how well you’ve internalized what you’ve learned.”

Bakugo’s smirk widened. His eyes briefly flicked to me, his expression almost taunting. “Hope you’re ready, Frostburn. I don’t pull punches.”

I met his gaze evenly, refusing to be intimidated. “Neither do I.”

Jeanist’s gaze swept over both of us. “Remember, this isn’t just about victory. It’s about discipline. Control. I expect nothing less than absolute focus.”

With that, he gestured for me to follow the sidekick waiting by the door. As I left the office, my mind kept circling around the same thought—control. It had always been my biggest challenge. For years, I had struggled to keep my quirk in check, to prevent it from overwhelming me. This internship was supposed to help me with that.

But as I glanced back at Bakugo, still standing in Jeanist’s office, that familiar fire in his eyes, I couldn’t help but wonder how much of this week would be about learning control—and how much would be about proving something to myself. Or maybe even to him.

_________

As I stood in the hallway, waiting to be picked up by one of Best Jeanist’s sidekicks, my mind drifted back to the sight of Bakugo and Jeanist heading towards the training room. Bakugo’s usual cocky stride, hands jammed into his pockets, seemed even more exaggerated today, probably eager to show off his power. My eyes lingered on him longer than I intended, tracing the strong lines of his shoulders as he walked away.

Snap out of it, I thought, shaking my head slightly.

“Do you think he’s handsome?” a curious voice asked from beside me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

Startled, I turned to see none other than the Rabbit Hero, Rumi Usagiyama—better known as Mirko—standing next to me with a smirk on her face. I didn’t know much about her besides she became a Pro-Hero at a young age as well and that Hawks and her were friends too.

“Mirko?” I blinked, trying to process her question before focusing on the fact that she was even here. “Wait, what are you doing here? You’re not a sidekick.”

Mirko grinned, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. “I may have lost a bet the other night at the ballroom, and now I’ve got to help out here for a month.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s actually not that bad. Jeanist runs a tight ship, but it’s nice to switch things up once in a while.”

I raised an eyebrow, still confused but not entirely surprised. Mirko was known for being unpredictable and, of course, not backing down from a challenge—especially if Hawks was involved. “A bet? With Hawks, I assume?” I asked, trying not to laugh at the thought.

She nodded, chuckling. “Yeah, that bastard tricked me into it. But hey, I don’t mind getting my hands dirty.” Mirko pushed off the wall, eyeing me. “You ready for patrol?”

I gave her a quick nod, still trying to wrap my head around the idea of her helping out at Best Jeanist’s agency. Mirko wasn’t the type to stay in one place for too long, and it was odd seeing her in this more restrained environment. But as always, she made it seem like no big deal.

Together, we made our way outside, the cool morning air hitting us as we stepped into the street. The city was just starting to wake up, civilians going about their routines, but my mind was still buzzing with everything that had happened earlier. Patrol with Mirko was definitely not what I had expected for today.

“So,” Mirko began casually as we walked, “you and Bakugo, huh?”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

She smirked again, that knowing gleam in her eye. “Oh, come on. You were staring at him back there. And don’t tell me it was just because he’s loud.”

I felt heat rise to my cheeks, but I quickly shook my head, trying to play it off. “I wasn’t staring.” I said while remembering last night and how I stared at him while he was asleep.

As we continued walking, Mirko’s words hung in the air, and I couldn’t help but feel a strange warmth rising in me. It was the second time this morning that I’d caught myself thinking about Bakugo—first when I woke up, and now, with Mirko calling me out on it. The problem was… I didn’t understand why.

I’d never felt like this before. Sure, Bakugo had always been loud, obnoxious, and impossible to ignore. But now, I kept replaying moments from last night in my head, the way he had just… stayed. The feeling of safety I hadn’t even realized I craved. My fingers brushed my wrist absentmindedly as I walked, my mind drifting back to the warmth of his presence next to me.

What’s wrong with me? I thought, biting the inside of my cheek. I wasn’t used to this—feeling confused by my own emotions. I had spent most of my life being homeschooled, away from the normal experiences kids my age had. Also becoming a pro hero at such a young age meant I was surrounded by adults, constantly trying to prove myself. Socializing with people my age? Building friendships? That was still new to me, and these strange, fluttery feelings toward Bakugo were something I didn’t know how to navigate.

“Earth to Y/N?” Mirko’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts, her smirk returning as she glanced over at me. “You’re zoning out again. Thinking about someone?”

My face heated up again, and I quickly shook my head. “I’m not—” I started, but I stopped myself. She had a way of cutting through my defenses without even trying. “I’m just… thinking.”

Mirko raised a brow, her teasing expression softening a little. “Look, kid, I get it. You’ve got a lot going on up here,” she said, tapping her temple lightly. “But don’t let it mess with your focus. Out here, distractions can get you hurt. Or worse.”

I nodded, grateful that she wasn’t pushing the issue too hard. “I know. I’ll focus.”

We walked in silence for a few more minutes, the streets starting to bustle with morning activity. I tried to clear my head, forcing myself to concentrate on the patrol. Best Jeanist had entrusted me with this, and I wasn’t going to let him down.

Suddenly, Mirko’s ears twitched, and her eyes narrowed as she scanned the area. “Something’s up,” she muttered, her tone sharpening.

Just as I turned my head to look, I saw it too—a man weaving through the crowd, clutching a bulging bag to his chest. The way he moved, quick and jittery, set off alarms in my mind. A civilian shouted after him, “He stole my bag!”

That was all we needed.

Without wasting a second, Mirko shot forward, her powerful legs propelling her through the crowd like a bullet. “Stay close, Frostburn!” she called over her shoulder, already gaining on the thief.

I sprinted after her, my mind sharpening with focus. No distractions. I pushed the thoughts of last night to the back of my head. Right now, I needed to concentrate on the task at hand.

The thief glanced back, his eyes wide with panic as he realized he was being chased. He tried to pick up the pace, but Mirko was faster. With a single leap, she closed the distance, landing in front of him and cutting off his escape route.

“Not so fast,” she smirked, cracking her knuckles as the thief skidded to a stop.

I approached from behind, quickly freezing the ground beneath his feet. He wobbled, losing his balance, and before he could recover, I sent a thin layer of ice climbing up his legs, locking him in place. “You’re not going anywhere,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

The thief struggled against the ice, but it was no use. Mirko, ever the professional, grabbed the stolen bag from him and tossed it back to the grateful civilian who had caught up.

“Thanks, heroes!” the man panted, clearly relieved.

The police arrived shortly after, taking the thief into custody and handling the rest. Mirko and I watched as they led him away, and I couldn’t help but feel a swell of satisfaction at how smoothly it had gone. We made a good team, even though it was our first time working together.

“You’re not as distracted as Hawks said,” Mirko commented casually once the scene had calmed down.

I blinked, turning to her. “What?”

Mirko’s words brought back memories of my time with Hawks. He’d always been laid-back, treating me more like a friend than just a sidekick. Our patrols were filled with jokes and light-hearted banter, even when things got serious. But beneath his casual exterior, there was always control and purpose. He pushed me to stay sharp, to read the situation, but always made it feel natural.

“Kid, don’t take yourself too seriously,” he’d say. “You’ll burn out if you do.”

I smiled at the memory. Hawks had a way of making me feel comfortable, but still pushing me to be better. He wasn’t just a mentor—he was a friend. That had been a welcome break from the weight of family expectations. But working with Mirko felt different. She wasn’t easing me into things. It was fast, direct, and intense. And it was exactly what I needed right now. Being around her made me feel stronger.

I couldn’t help but feel a small rush of pride, though I wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. “Well, I slept better than usual,” I muttered, almost to myself, thinking back to the night before.

Mirko’s smirk widened. “I bet you did. I saw you staring at Bakugo earlier, too. He the reason you’re feeling so rested?” she teased, her tone playful, but I could tell she was enjoying making me squirm.

My face flushed again, and I quickly shook my head. “No! It’s not like that.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” She gave me a wink. “Whatever you say, Frostburn.” She emphasized the nickname, clearly picking it up from Bakugo’s earlier taunts.

I sighed, trying to hide my embarrassment as we continued our patrol. But even as I pushed the conversation aside, I couldn’t ignore the strange warmth that crept back into my chest every time I thought about last night.

_________

As we walked back to the agency, the city was starting to fully wake up. The streets were busier now, with civilians going about their day, completely unaware of the brief chase that had just unfolded. Mirko walked beside me, her stride confident and easy, though I could feel the energy still pulsing in the air from our earlier teamwork.

“You did good out there,” she said, not looking at me but keeping her sharp eyes on the road ahead. “Especially considering you’ve mostly done night patrols.”

I could tell she was testing the waters, not wanting to dig too deep into my past as a pro hero. I appreciated her not treating me like some fragile thing.

“It’s fine,” I replied, my voice steady. “I’ve had time to get used to it, and honestly, it’s probably for the best. This way, I can really focus on learning more about my powers.”

Mirko nodded approvingly. “Damn right. You’ve got a lot of raw power, Frostburn. Jeanist can teach you control, but don’t ever forget the strength you already have.” She shot me a glance, her eyes gleaming with something like respect. “Just gotta know how to use it without burning yourself out. You’ll get there.”

I chuckled at her using Bakugo’s nickname for me, and though I wasn’t fully used to it yet, hearing it from Mirko somehow made it feel less teasing and more like a challenge. A good challenge.

“Thanks, Mirko,” I said, appreciating her blunt but genuine words.

“Don’t go getting all sentimental on me now,” she teased, grinning. “You’re strong. Don’t let anyone—especially yourself—hold you back.”

We reached the entrance of the agency, and Mirko stretched her arms over her head, clearly unbothered by the morning’s events. “Looks like this is where we part ways. Jeanist is probably waiting to put you through the wringer now. Don’t keep him waiting.” She gave me a sharp grin, full of energy even after the patrol.

“Right,” I nodded, giving her a small wave. “Thanks again.”

“Don’t mention it. See you around, Frostburn,” she said with a smirk, before turning and striding away, her usual confidence practically radiating off her.

As I watched her disappear into the distance, I couldn’t help but wonder why Mirko was here in the first place. Losing a bet to Hawks? Sure, that sounded like her, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it. Hawks had always been the type to pull strings behind the scenes, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he’d asked Mirko to keep an eye on me. But if that was the case, she wasn’t going to admit it—not her style.

I sighed, shaking the thought away as I stepped back into the agency. Best Jeanist was waiting, and I needed to focus. Whatever reason Mirko had for being here, I had a job to do. With one last glance over my shoulder, I headed inside, ready for whatever was next.

_______

Amethyst. - Masterlist: click here -> You can find my Story on Wattpad!

_______ Please don't forget to like and share the Story if you like it!

[quartermera]

"Need A Hand ?"

A/N: Time to get freaky with Cora

Ship: Rosinante x afab!Reader (Rosinante and reader are similar heights) Genre: smut Word count: 1.6k words Warnings: PWP, mutual masturbation, fingering

The sun shining on your face stirred you awake. Yawning, you turned around, keeping your eyes close. You reflexively moved back in bed, searching the comforting body heat of your boyfriend. When your back hit his chest, he quietly wrapped an arm around you, holding onto one of your breasts.

It took you a few minutes before noticing that something was poking your butt. With a chuckle, you woke up further. Spinning your head, you looked over your shoulder.

"Morning," you mumbled.

Rosinante only groaned in response.

"Do you need to take care of something?" you asked in a chuckle.

Half-opening an eye, he remained still. You could see the cogs in his brain slowly turn as he wondered what you were talking about. A few seconds went by. Finally, his eyebrows raised as the realization hit him.

Groaning, Rosinante turned onto his back.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he mumbled, hiding his eyes with a hand.

You did not have the time to tell him that it was okay, that he was already sitting up, ready to walk to the bathroom.

"You could stay," you suggested in a moment of boldness.

Looking over his shoulder, Rosinante asked back: "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," you hesitated. "I could maybe join you?"

Rosinante's ears turned red at the suggestion, but he did not argue. Instead he lied back down next to you. You now had a chance to shamelessly check him out: chest bare, pajama pants hanging low on his hips, happy trail disappearing behind the waistband, and a fabric so thin and loose that it left little to imagination.

"Like what you see?" he teased.

"Very much."

With a smile, he wondered: "What did you have in mind when you said you could join?"

You gulped.

"Maybe I could give you a hand?" You marked a pause. "And maybe that you could give me one too?"

Your heart was ready to explode. The most you and Rosinante had done so far was making out. This felt like quite the step, but you would be lying if you said you had not thought about it before. You obviously could not risk it while around the Donquixotte Family, but now that you were on the run, what could stop you?

"If that's okay with you, of course!" you added in a rush, seeing how quiet Rosinante was remaining.

He only smiled in return.

Leaning over, he calmed all your worries by gently kissing you. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you closer.

Never stopping kissing you, Rosinante started by slipping his fingers under your pajama shirt. He rested his hand against your sides.

Tangling your legs together, you moved closer. Rosinante's bulge was poking you again. Readjusting, you pushed yourself against his strong thigh, seeking pressure through your pajamas.

Rosinante did not miss your movements. In an effort to help, he slid his hand from your side, to your back, to your ass, and pulled you closer. You hesitantly grinded against his thigh, but his reassuring hand was there once more, encouraging you to go harder.

You pressed your own leg against his boner, not wanting to be the only one enjoying yourself. A low groan escaped him. You could not help but smile in the kiss, glad you had such an effect on him.

Seeing that you were more comfortable, Rosinante slowly slid his hand up you body again, while the other kept firmly holding you. His thumb slipped under your pajamas' waistband and waited there. You realized he was giving you enough time to opt out, but you only grinded against his thigh instead.

Satisfied with that response, Rosinante let his other fingers slide into your pants to rest on your bare ass. As you kept rubbing against him and teasing him, his nails dug into your soft flesh.

You moved your own hand from his chest to his hips. Just as he had, you allowed him a few seconds to move away, but soon enough, your palm pressed against his bare hipbone.

Rosinante's patience with you was comforting, and as a consequence thereof only left you craving more.

You moved away from his lips, but only so you could tend to his neck. You sprinkled the soft skin with kisses, going up and down his artery, and pausing by his ear to gently suck onto his earlobe.

Rosinante sighed loudly in pleasure.

The nails on both his hands dug into your skin, causing a chill to run down your spine.

It was his turn to make you feel good.

Pulling away ever so slightly, he pulled up your shirt to expose your chest. As he started massaging one of your breasts and playing with the nipple, his lips traced a path to the other. Hungrily, he licked and sucked onto your nipple and the skin around it. The open-mouthed kisses were accompanied by playful bites and hickeys.

Rosinante had imagined many times before what your skin would look like covered in marks. Now, he had a chance to see for himself.

As his mouth moved over your sternum to your other breast, his hand slipped back down your body, caressing your side and belly. This time, however, his fingers slipped under the front of your pants. Slowly, still allowing you to back out of this, he moved between your legs. You stopped grinding, awaiting his next move in anticipation.

Rosinante's slender fingers slid between your lips.

He brushed over your clit a few times. Then, he applied more pressure as he studied your reaction. Feeling a wave of pleasure traverse your body, you reflexively closed your eyes and quietly moaned.

Satisfied, Rosinante repeated his movements. Time became vague. You wouldn't be able to say how long you stayed in this position, Rosinante rubbing your clit to pull more moans out of your. You only remembered that you snapped out of it when one of his fingers slipped into you.

Quite frankly, you could have missed it, with how wet and relaxed you were by that point.

Rosinante loved that he was the cause of it too.

Suddenly you were impatient to touch him back. While he started pumping his fingers into you, curling to hit the right spot, you palmed him through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. A wet spot of pre-cum had formed around the head. Despite how little was left to your imagination, you could not wait for more.

Clumsily, you pulled his pants down with a little help. You could not stop yourself from throwing a quick glance down. His dick was long, slender and veiny. For a brief second, you imagined what it would be like to get rammed into by Rosinante.

This only added to your arousal.

Pulling onto Rosinante's hair, you angled his face so you could smash your lips together as you grabbed his cock. Tentatively pumping, Rosinante immediately moaned into your mouth. Holding him more firmly, you moved your hand up and down, over and over. All while moaning and cursing, Rosinante pushed his fingers further into you.

It was now your turn to sigh and curse under your breath.

You were both determined to make a mess out of the other.

Rosinante was rock hard and could not keep quiet under your mistreatment. You alternated the pace, the pressure. Sometimes you focused on the tip, other times on his balls, massaging them.

He did his best to get you over the edge too. Rosinante was maybe incapable of shutting up, but that included praises for you. He could not stop telling you how hot you were, how good you were, how amazing you sounded moaning like that for him.

Using his thumb to rub your clit while his fingers slid in and out of you, Rosinante caused you to squirm under his touch. You were not sure how long you would still hold out, especially when his nails scratched your back out of the blue.

You wanted more. So much more. You already couldn't wait until the next time, until you would move to the next step.

Rosinante's fingers curled inside of you, over and over; hitting the right spot, over and over. Feeling you tense around him, Rosinante didn't miss a beat. He leaned over and sucked on your breast again. You pulled him closer, fingers tangled in his locks, other hand busy pumping his dick.

In between two open-mouthed kisses, he whispered:

"Cum for me, darling."

Not holding out anymore, you let a wave of pleasure run over you. Your entire body tensed up. You pressed your thighs together, clutching Rosinante's hand.

He loved the way you moaned out his name, the way you tightened around his fingers. Instead of your hand, he imagined your pretty lips or your tight pussy around his dick. Unable to help himself, he left one more hickey on your breasts, moaning as he came. His cum covered your belly.

As you both came down from your highs, you gently pulled back your hands.

"Fuck... sorry," Rosinante whispered once he realized the mess he had made.

"No worries," you replied.

Nevertheless, Rosinante sat up and reached for tissues. He helped you clean yourself. Once you were done, he took care of himself, still sitting next to you.

You observed him. Hair messy and pink cheeks. Soft smile and breaths calm.

The sun was shining on his beautiful features, reflecting off his locks.

"You're gorgeous," you whispered.

Smiling, Rosinante turned to you. Then, after a second, he responded:

"No, you are."

[angelspigeon]

750 words of Asexuality discussion feat Zhongchi!!

“Thank you,” Ajax whispered. He pressed his lips together. “Zhongli, you’re…”

“I know,” Zhongli whispered. “My apologies. I…” His fingers shivered again. “I don’t know why… I hate when it happens. Sometimes… it reacts, and… I don’t know why. I don’t know why… When it happens… I wonder who am I? If I lied to myself for so long?”

“I don’t understand,” Ajax whispered.

Zhongli pressed the cotton on the wound. Ajax moved his hand to gently press it over Zhongli’s. Not because it hurt but because the hand still shivered.

“You were so beautiful, so enticing… I felt this urge. I felt my body reacts to it. Want you. And me…” Zhongli pressed his forehead against Ajax, once again. “Me… who am I?” Ajax gently lifted his face, holding his cheek in his palm. He invited him to pursue without pushing him around. “I am asexual, you know?” Zhongli said. “I never wanted someone sexually. I don’t even want you sexually.” Ajax blinked. “It isn’t an insult,” Zhongli quickly said.

“I know,” Ajax said under his breath.

“You are beautiful. The most beautiful person I never met.” Ajax smiled. “Inside and outside. And your pleasure is like a drug for me.” Zhongli’s hand squeezed around the cotton now imbibed of blood. “But I don’t feel sexual desire. I don’t want to make love to you. Then why my body…” Zhongli gulped. “And if my body reacts like this… was I lying to myself since the beginning?”

Ajax saw the doubt, the fear even, in the amber eyes.

Zhongli was really questioning himself.

So many years to be convinced of what he was and feeling good in this case… was it a lie? Were all those shows right? Asexuality didn’t exist? He was just awaiting ‘the good one’ which was obviously Ajax? Of course, Ajax was ‘the good one’, so precious, cute, thoughtful, and yet he had that sparkle of life, combativeness, and he even was a little bit a brat when he wanted to. But Zhongli thought he was ‘the good one’ for his heart, so why his penis had to…

“It’s alright,” Ajax said. “You’re not lying to yourself. Aren’t we evolving every day? I never thought I’ll need someone gentle like you, and yet… So if our taste evolve, if our perception change… can’t we realize we like different things? And people.” Ajax scratched his scalp. “I mean… I surely did lie to myself at some point, you know, but it was because I didn’t realize I was afraid of what my dad would accept or not. And now I’m lying to him. Then…” Ajax stared at his hands, adorned with nail polish. “Then this evolution can help you to understand who you are and put another name on what you feel. Maybe you’re just Demi! Or Ajaxsexual!” he added with a light laugh.

Zhongli felt Ajax tried to calm the atmosphere.

It really was so tight.

Zhongli grabbed some cotton and poured more alcohol on it.

He still was so confused. And he hated the sensation of his underwear too tiny for him, of his pants’ button about to explode under the pressure.

“Then! You know! It happens to me too,” Ajax pursued. “Sometimes my stupid body got stimulated by stuff I’m watching and it goes like ‘oh time to be horny’!” Ajax stretched with a chuckle.

He winced when the alcohol pressed on his belly.

“Perhaps…” Zhongli said.

It was weird to be cheered up that way by someone half his age. He never had any problem to define himself on the non-binary spectrum, nor to know he was bisexual even though the society tried to prove him wrong as he had only lovers who appeared as men to the eyes of the society. But he felt like this… this defined him more. Because it had been harder to understand, and because his body betrayed him. Because his body looked at someone like Ajax and made him feel uncomfortable.

He knew he wouldn’t love to lay Ajax on the couch and take him here and there. He couldn’t even picture himself doing it–although he would love to see him touch himself and show his pure beauty. He loved what was pretty.

Ajax was pretty.

The prettiest.

But…

What if he was a fraud?

His brain told him this each time libido took over it.

When he thought ‘I don’t want to make love to him’, his body sure was thinking ‘do it!’ to answer to some primal instinct.

And he hated that.

[mumms-the-word]

Drowning

Day 24 of the BG3 Fic February Challenge

The Iron Throne is one of my favorite encounters in the entire game. And it also happens to be one of my personal biggest nightmares.

I'm sure this place stresses out all of my Tavs/Durges (except for Freyr, who never goes there) but it is particularly stressful for Ardynn, who has a very real fear of the sea in general, let alone being fathoms below the surface in an exploding steel prison. So, er...enjoy?

Check out my masterlist of BG3 fics!

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24. Tav/Durge faces their worst fear

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Ardynn’s eyes widened with horror as she saw the first of the explosions around the Iron Throne detonate in a flurry of magical flame and bubbles. A wave of force slammed into the submersible, rocking it beneath her. She had to scramble to stay on her feet.

“No!” she screamed. “Gortash, stop!”

But Gortash’s image on the blue screen was already gone, his last words taunting her.

When the corpses start to wash up on the shore, remember—you could have prevented all this.

“Gods damn him,” Karlach growled. “We have to save them. Whoever we can. We’re gonna save them right?” She looked to Ardynn, but Ardynn was frozen. “Right?”

“Of course we are,” Wyll said. “And my father. We can’t just leave him down there!”

But Ardynn couldn’t move. She could only stare in horror as more explosions went off.

Most of the roof for the structure below was thick glass, allowing her to see inside as pipes began to burst, releasing thick jets of steam into the corridors. Whole sections of the metal floor cracked under the pressure. Water gushed up from below, rapidly spilling over the hallway floors and slowly starting to fill them. The glass in one section began to crack, stress lines fracturing outward like a spiderweb. It held, but only barely. Any second now it would break and water would rush in as an unstoppable torrent, drowning everyone inside.

It was her worst nightmare. Being trapped below the sea with no way to escape. Trapped in some horrible metal construct, far from sunlight, with little air to breathe. Drowning. Sucking in water instead of air and choking on it, banging her fists against a metal door that would never, ever give, forced to wait for the inevitable, for her death, her lungs screaming for relief, for air, and finding only water and more water, and banging, clawing, pounding desperately on the doors trying to be free—

She felt a heavy hand on her shoulder and jolted at the touch. It was only then that she realized she was breathing in short, shallow breaths, nearly hyperventilating, her head swimming. She turned to find Halsin at her side, his face full of concern and urgency.

“Ardynn,” he said. “Breathe deeply. Remember.”

She gave a shaky nod, remembering how he had taught her to breathe through her anger and pain just a few nights prior. But there was no time. There were hostages down there—Duke Ravengard might even be down there—and they would all die in the minutes it would take for her to catch her breath again.

“Just tell us what to do,” Karlach said. “You don’t have to go down with us.”

“No,” Ardynn said. “No, we all need to go. We need every—every chance we can get.”

She put her hand over Halsin’s on her shoulder, desperately trying to soak in some of his steadiness. He tightened his grip, not even flinching when she in turn dug her nails into the skin that was exposed by his bracers. She didn’t need to look at his face to see that he remained full of concern for her, but there wasn’t time. There wasn’t time. The seconds were ticking by quickly.

“The plan,” she said, even as she trembled, her body resisting every breath inside that blasted submersible. “We go down the ladder. We split up. Save as many people as you can. But give yourself time to make it back.”

It would be difficult for all of them to force themselves to leave anyone behind. Karlach and Wyll, the heroes. Ardynn and Halsin, the caretakers. All of them wanted to save everyone down there. She knew that. 

But gods, she couldn’t—she couldn’t be the last one down there, trapped forever under a pile of steel and rubble a thousand meters below the sea. It didn’t matter that Withers could bring her back. She would never heal from the experience of dying that way. So if she had to leave someone behind...

She hated the idea, but she tried to resolve herself to it. The plan was set. Ardynn sucked in a deep breath and shrugged Halsin’s hand off, heading down the ladder ahead of everyone else.

Silvanus, if you’re listening, she desperately prayed, let me see the sun again. I can die any other way but this, so please, please let me make it back to the surface alive.

———

Every second felt simultaneously like an eternity and a flash as they charged through the metal hallways. Ardynn didn’t know half of what was happening in other parts of the prison, but she heard the sounds of spells, of Karlach’s war cries, of Halsin’s deep voice shouting and directing ex-hostages. She couldn’t focus on them. She was too busy trying to survive.

Not against the sahuagins. Not really. They were viscous and dangerous, but they fell to her arrows just like anything else. No, she was fighting to survive in her own body.

As her boots filled with water and her skin stung from blasts of burning steam, she fought to wrest open levers to prison cells, her strength halved by her fear. She barely heard the words of the Gondians as they stammered their thanks, running past her toward the ladder that lad up into the submersible. The only sounds she could make sense of were the droning alarms of the Iron Throne security system, the rush of water, and the roar of blood in her head. 

Every breath felt precious and dangerous. Her lungs fought against her, seeking more air even as her brain tricked her into thinking shorter breaths were wiser. She felt woozy, but she forced her mind to focus, the sharpen the world around her. Her fingers and toes seemed to tingle and grow numb, but perhaps she was imagining it. She had no time, no time to stop and think about anything her body was doing. She simply forced herself to dash forward, reaching for the next lever, the next arrow, fighting and running on instinct alone.

Ardynn! All hostages free on this side! Heading back now!

She heard Karlach’s voice in her head, connected by the tadpoles. Wyll’s voice soon interjected too.

I’ve freed my father—gods damn Mizora—Omeluum has taken him back to the submersible. Let’s go! 

What about Halsin? Ardynn asked them both, but there was only silence. 

Neither of them knew.

Without a tadpole, Halsin was unable to connect to them telepathically. A newfound fear gripped Ardynn’s chest as she shot another arrow through a sahuagin’s scaly throat. Had he fallen? Was he trapped? Oh gods, oh gods—

She turned and ran back up the metal hallway. There were no more cells to open where she was and half of the Gondians were already ahead of her. She reached the middle room where the ladder stood and cupped her hands around her mouth.

“Halsin!” she shouted, her voice rasping with the force of her shout. “Can you hear me?”

The only response was the droning alarm and the rushing sound of water pouring endlessly into the hallways. She stumbled out of the way of the ladder, turning this way and that, unsure of which corridor to look down. 

She tried desperately to connect to Omeluum, seeking out his mind blindly. Omeluum! Is Halsin with you?

The druid? He is not with us in the submersible. I am with Duke Ulder Ravengard and his son.

The floor beneath her began to rumble with the force of explosions down other hallways, in other locations of the prison. Above her, the glass cracked and shuddered, droplets of water seeping through and raining down around her. Any second now this place would implode in on itself, crushing everyone inside.

“Halsin!” she screamed again, despair clawing at her throat.

“Soldier!” Karlach ran up one of the hallways, a couple of Gondians at her heels. “Come on, come on, let’s go!”

Ardynn let her brush past, stepping around the Gondians to peer down the corridor Karlach had just left. No sign of Halsin. At the far end, a sahuagin clawed through a hole in the floor, its scales glistening in the flashing red lights. Ardynn notched a lightning arrow and aimed for a bit of exposed wiring near the doors. 

Please, Silvanus, please don’t let him be down that corridor!

She let the arrow fly. Lightning skittered across the metal and the doors swung shut, the wheel turning, the bolts sliding home. Locked for good.

“Halsin, where are you?” she shouted again, backing up until her back was against the ladder. There was no one else down any of the open corridors. No Gondians, no companions, only torrents of water, jets of steam, and burning oil.

“I’m here!”

She whirled. There! A shadow in the steam that filled one of the corridors. Halsin emerged carrying an unconscious man over his shoulders, a gnome woman just a few steps behind. Ardynn’s knees nearly buckled with relief to see him.

“Up the ladder, quickly!” She moved out of the way, gesturing for them to hurry up.

“You first,” Halsin said, his voice strained but firm. She opened her mouth to argue, only for a guttural roar behind Halsin to draw her attention. She notched another arrow, gesturing to the ladder with her head.

“I’ll handle the sahuagin. Get up there, now!” She let the arrow fly, shooting past Halsin toward the creature beyond, but the sahuagin dodged with a lithe spin, disappearing briefly into the steam.

Halsin grit his teeth, looking ready to argue, but the gnome woman ignored them both, already halfway up the ladder. Halsin flicked his eyes between Ardynn, the steam filled corridor, and the ladder. After only a second’s hesitation, he adjusted his hold on the unconscious man and began his ascent. Ardynn readied another arrow, her eyes focused on the steam. Just another second, just enough time for Halsin to be a few steps up—

An explosion rocked the floor beneath her, buckling the metal. She cried out as she stumbled, only barely catching herself on the ladder.

“Ardynn!”

Halsin’s voice was far above her now. She cursed and swung onto the ladder steps, taking them two rungs at a time. By the time she had reached the upper room, Halsin was already in the submersible.

“Come on, soldier!”

“Ardynn, quickly! You’re nearly there!”

The voices of her companions spurred her on as she clambered onto the metal grate floor of the upper floor, scrambling on hands and feet to reach the final ladder as the entire world around her shook. The Iron Throne was buckling, cracking, shattering around her, and she was so close—

The glass overhead fractured. Sprays of water showered down over her, pipes rattling, metal screeching, distant rumbles of the building crumpling and exploding growing closer and closer. The metal was slick under her hands and feet as she struggled to stand, to make it to the last ladder leading up into the submersible. She would die here. She would die here. She could scarcely breathe as her hands finally found purchase on the ladder rungs and she hauled herself upward, the crackling of the glass growing louder as she climbed closer toward it. She flinched as a pane cracked, a piece of glass flying toward her, but she kept climbing. 

Halsin was there, kneeling at the opening of the submersible, stretching down an arm toward her. She choked down a sob as she finally made it within reach of his hand, reaching up to grab it. His grip on her water-soaked gloved hand was fierce, almost painful, as he hauled her upward. She heard the glass finally shatter, water rushing in with a roar, as Halsin pulled her through the hatch with all his strength.

They fell back together, her half-crawling and Halsin half-dragging her away from the hatch as Karlach kicked it closed. She held herself up, barely, on hands and knees, coughing and gasping, choking on water and relief and sobs until she thought she would be sick. Halsin knelt at her side, his body shielding her from the others in the submersible as she fought not to collapse. Her vision darkened and brightened in turns and her arms shook beneath her. Every breath was like ice in her lungs, cold relief and piercing pain.

She felt Halsin press his forehead to her temple, his hand on her back, as he whispered to her, “You are safe, now, my heart. Do you hear me? Focus on me. Breathe deeply.”

She clutched blindly at his arm, leaning into him as he curved his body around her, shielding her as she sucked in desperate gulps of air. Her mind could make sense of the fact that she was alive and safe but her body reacted with all the pent up panic and fear and terror that had fueled her every step and action down in the Iron Throne. She was a trembling, gasping mess in Halsin’s arms, but gods—she was alive. She was alive. They were all alive.

“You were amazing, my heart.” 

She had enough energy to laugh weakly at that. She wanted to cry. She wanted to sob in long, loud, wailing sobs that wracked her whole body, but she didn’t have the energy for it. Amazing? She was stupid. She shouldn’t have lingered so long. She could have died. He could have died.

But on this side of the danger, even with the submersible rocking and tilting under the force of the explosions below as the dwarf fought to navigate them free of the blasts, she could feel nothing but blessed relief as her panic slowly subsided. She’d never be so happy to be in a metal construct like the submersible again.

She knew she needed to pull herself together. The submersible wasn’t exactly a private space. All of the Gondians they’d saved were there. Omeluum was there. More importantly, Duke Ravengard was there. And she was shivering in Halsin’s arms like a terrified child, rather than standing as a leader. 

Just a few more seconds, she promised herself, turning her face to press her forehead into Halsin’s chest. She forced herself to breathe deeply on counts of five, as Halsin had taught her, ignoring her surroundings and focusing her world until it consisted only of him and her. She felt his hands rubbing gently but firmly against her back and arms as she leaned into his solid body. Just a few more deep breaths…a few more...a few more...

There. 

She wasn’t back to normal, and she suspected when she had time again to think and process she might just collapse in a flood of tears all over again. But for now, she could breathe and her heart had slowed a little. She tilted her head up to look at Halsin.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He cradled her face in his hand, studying her quickly with a healer’s gaze before his expression softened. “You did well, Ardynn. My heart.” 

He looked like he wanted to say more, but he pressed his lips together and instead offered her his hand. Together they stood, Halsin having to help her more than she wished, her legs still weak beneath her. But finally, she was able to stand and face the others, just as the submersible steadied into a smooth journey back toward the surface.

Thank you, Oak Father, she prayed silently. But, please, by all the powers of nature, please let this be the last time I ever have to endure that again.

[001-simp]

Peter Ballard | 001 smut + fluffy aftercare ꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

"he loved fucking you up like this, making you melt underneath him"

Warnings+summary: Gender-neutral/non-gendered language, female anatomy, PinV, cunnilingus, fingering, hair pulling, spitting, some pet names, begging, abrupt beginning, no real storyline just straight up fucking.

This is the first fanfiction I've written since middle school, don't judge me too harshly or I'll cry ❤️‍🩹

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Peter pulls your hair from behind, using his other hand to grab your hip tightly as he slams into you, bottoming out with nearly every thrust, causing you to whimper underneath him. You gasped as you felt an invisible force putting pressure on your sensitive clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles in your wetness.

His breathing hitched as you reached back, digging your nails into his thighs but it didn't slow him down. He'd never admit it out loud but he liked the pain you inflicted on him. He was ravenous, muttering strings of curse words under his breath as you tighten your grip on his thigh.

You felt him tighten his hand on your hip, yanking your hair back harder, speeding up his already wild thrusts. "God. feels so- fucking good." He stuttered out. "Where do you want me to cum, baby?"

"Cum inside me Peter, please" you whined loudly. this sent him over the edge, head tilted back, hips bucking into you in irregular thrusts, sending tingles through your body as he hit your most sensitive areas. You loosened your grasp, exhausted as he finished inside you.

He pulled his now sensitive cock out, gasping through gritted teeth. He relaxed his grip on your hair but did not let go completely. He guided you by your hair to flip over and spread your legs for him.

He quickly knelt in front of your core and began eating your pussy like he was starving. Swollen lips crashed into your skin as he sucked and licked circles around your clit, sending butterflies and tingles through your core. As you grew closer to your orgasm, your legs couldn't help but try to squeeze shut. You were already sensitive from him fucking you. Peter forced them down with his hands as he continued eating you. "please, please" you said, running your fingers through his soft blonde hair erratically. "Please what, hmm?" he groaned into you. You could practically feel him smirking.

"Please, can I cum?" you blurted without hesitation. Sticking 2 fingers inside you as he stopped licking just to say, "Yes, baby. Cum for me". He thrust his fingers into you just right, curling gently, continuing to lick you and still holding your leg down with his free hand. You exploded under his touch. Uncontrollable waves of pleasure overtook your body as you felt yourself clenching around his fingers. "Hmm, I love seeing you like this" he rasped against the sensitive skin of your pussy, leaving you with one last kiss on your now delicate clit.

He pulled his fingers out slowly, running them over your swollen clit one last time, causing you to whimper and shudder. He loved fucking you up like this, making you melt underneath him.

He crawled over you, grabbing your face by your cheeks. "Open your mouth for me," he said with his now coarse voice. You obeyed immediately, opening wide as he spat in your mouth. You could taste the both of you on your tongue. He chuckled gently, now moving to your neck, kissing you all over. He whispered in your ear with ragged breathing "you did so well, baby", running his hands through your hair for a moment, then leaving a kiss on your cheek

Peter always knew how to make you blush. You kissed him on his sweet, swollen lips with a shy smile, thanking him for taking such good care of you.

The way he praised and cared for you after pummeling your insides was always pure bliss. Peter went to fetch you some fresh cold water and a towel. He lit your favorite candle and asked if you'd like for him to run you a bath. Of course you said yes, so he happily prepared you a nice, warm bath and even carried you to the tub, peppering you with kisses the whole time.

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[erin-bo-berin]

I had a request for a smut where it’s your first time (obviously it’s not Steve’s) and he takes it nice and slow for the reader? -🦋

This makes me wonder, how old do you think Steve was when he lost his virginity? I know Barb made a passing comment about Tommy H. and Carol having had sex since middle school (which I know actually happens but the fact of kids THAT YOUNG having sex just blows my mind like wow)

But point being, I can imagine it coming up obviously between Steve and reader in a previous conversation and he said he lost his virginity at like 14 let’s say. And she’s just like “….you’ve got six years of experience and want to sleep with me what”

Harrington’s Got You

Steve Harrington x Reader

Warning: Smut

When the topic came up in your and Steve’s new relationship, your mind about exploded when he told you he’d lost his virginity at 14.

Not that it surprised you; you were sure there had never been a point he hadn’t been attractive.

Which made your confession even more embarrassing. He’d teasingly goaded you into telling him hold old you were when you lost your virginity.

“I’m…um, I’m still a virgin,” you mumbled, cheeks warming.

You knew it wasn’t something you should be ashamed about, but being with someone as gorgeous as Steve, as experienced as him, it made you feel a bit humiliated.

“Oh,” he whispered, the fact sinking in, “Oh. Oh shit.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, avoiding his gaze.

“Hey, no, no,” he said, reaching out for you, taking your hand in his, “I am in no way judging. I think I’m just more in shock.”

“What? Why?” you chuckled.

“I mean…look at you. I’m amazed guys haven’t thrown themselves at you,” he said, a smile twisting his lips.

“Well, thank you,” you laughed, “But, no. I just haven’t met anyone…special enough, I guess. That deserves it.”

But Steve had surprised you after that conversation. You were sure he’d be scared off, repulsed, maybe even pity you. He did none of those things.

He promised to never pressure you and if whenever you were comfortable, he’d take it at your pace. He stayed true to his word. It was so Steve-like, the memory made your heart flutter.

But now, you’d decided to take that next step in your relationship and you’d wanted it to be with Steve. When you’d uttered the words to him earlier during your particularly heated kissing, he’d looked at you in shock.

In fact, he still was, now.

“Are you sure?” he asked, hovering over you, uncertainly, “I don’t want to, if you aren’t absolutely sure.”

But, you were and you told him so.

“I’m absolutely sure,” you smiled up at him, biting your lip.

You were incredibly nervous, especially having very little knowledge of what to do when Steve had had years of experience. But, you trusted him. You trusted him enough that you didn’t have a doubt in your mind about your decision.

He kissed you so sweetly, hand gliding from the crook of your neck up to cup your cheek. Your mouth moved against his as he angled his head to deepen the kiss. His tongue swept over your bottom lip lightly, teeth gently tugging at it making you moan lowly.

As your lips parted, his tongue slipped inside your mouth, moving against your own. His hands slid along the contours of your body before easing you down flat on the bed.

He pulled away long enough to watch you as his warm palms slid under your shirt. This wasn’t anything new as there’d been plenty of bare skin touches between the two of you. In fact, you’d gotten as far as both of your shirts off before Steve would stop himself, wanting to respect your boundaries.

His fingers stroked your stomach softly as he studied you.

“You promise to tell me if you want to stop at any point?” he asked.

You nodded and he frowned.

“I need to hear it in words, Y/N. You promise?”

“I promise,” you breathed.

Satisfied with your answer, he let his lips fall back against yours and soon your shirt was being raised over your head and being pulled from your arms.

At least, they were until you got stuck.

Those smooth, romantic sex scenes you see in movies? Complete and utter bullshit. Of course, you expected that, but this was just ridiculous.

Steve was laughing, as he helped you free of the shirt that had gotten stuck around your elbow.

“Stop laughing at me,” you chuckled as the shirt finally came off.

His endearing smile was the first thing you saw when the shirt had cleared your head and you sighed dramatically.

“So much for the first time being romantic, huh?”

“It is as long as I’m with you,” he smiled softly, “Also, I’m not sure I tell you this enough, but your boobs are great.”

You threw your head back with a laugh, his comment being so random, you couldn’t help the giggles that came. A part of you realized, he was trying to help you relax and not be as nervous; you appreciated that so much.

“I think it’s only fair if you get stuck when your shirt comes off, now,” you teased.

Of course, like with everything he did, his shirt came off smoothly as he reached behind him and pulled it off.

“Show off,” you mumbled, fingers tracing his bare stomach.

“I couldn’t keep you waiting for the amazing view that’s my chest,” he smirked, leaning down towards your face again.

“I do like it, especially your chest hair,” you muttered against his lips as you kissed him.

He spoke again between your kisses.

“Who wouldn’t? Drives the ladies wild. Especially this one,” he smirked, slightly tickling your sides.

Your shriek of giggles made him laugh and he took the opportunity to place open mouth kisses down your neck. Your laughter faded quickly turning into soft gasps as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot.

His lips trailed downwards, mouth arriving at the curve of your breasts. He placed teasing kisses along the cup of each bra before reaching behind you.

“May I?” he asked, looking up at you.

“Yes,” you confirmed, arching for him to have better access.

With nimble fingers, he had the garment unclasped in one swift movement.

“You’re way too good at that for your own good,” you grumbled, teasingly.

“All this time, I’ve been practicing for you,” he said with a roguish grin.

He slid each bra strap down with a soft kiss to each shoulder and you tried not to let nerves take over. He’d yet to see you naked and now that you were half naked in front of him, the cool air hitting your skin, you felt incredibly self conscious and exposed. If you felt this vulnerable now, you were afraid what you were going to be like when your pants were off too.

“Hey, don’t hide from me sweetheart,” he murmured, keeping you from hiding your bare chest, “I still stand by what I said and your boobs are incredible.”

You laughed again, instantly feeling more at ease. Steve Harrington was nothing if not a boob guy.

“I’m going to take care of you, okay?” he whispered.

“Okay,” you answered back, knowing just an answering nod wouldn’t appease them.

He kissed you, easing you into his next movements. His hands cupped your breasts, squeezing them gently, thumbs rubbing over your hardening nipples.

You might’ve gone feral.

It was one thing to be felt up through a bra or a shirt during your previous make out sessions, but this was a whole ‘nother level of feeling good.

His warm hands massaged them gently, teasing them, but he was just getting started. After breaking the kiss, his head lowered to your chest, kissing and licking both boobs, then taking your puckered nipple into his mouth and sucking.

“Oh shit,” you breathed, not expecting a simple act like this to be so erotic and to feel so incredible.

You felt your body hum while it simultaneously felt tight and achy. Your need for him started to cloud your brain and you voiced it.

“Please Steve, I want you,” you breathed.

“I know, baby, but I want to make sure you’re good and ready for me, okay?”

You whimpered your response, brain not entirely clear what he meant. You didn’t think of it while you both eagerly rid one another of pants. But then, you got your answer when his kisses planted along your body became lower and he was situated between your thighs.

“You trust me?” he asked.

“Of course, Steve,” you breathed, a moan falling from your lips as he traced his fingers over your core through the fabric of your underwear.

He tugged the material off, discarding it and cursed lowly.

“God, you’re so wet for me,” he whispered, in awe.

You felt your cheeks flush probably for the hundredth time since your intimacy began.

“Just means I’m doing my job well,” he smirked, kissing the inside of your thigh.

You sighed dramatically.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“But you love me,” he smiled.

“That, I do.”

Your sentence was cut off with a rough, slightly garbled mess of words and a moan as he pushed one finger into you. It wasn’t anything bad as you’d done the same on your own before. But you knew the big guns were still to come.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, “You’re gonna feel amazing, I know it.”

You made a promise then and there that when he was through with you, you were going to try your hardest to make him feel good too.

“Steve?” you whispered.

Your nerves must’ve been evident on your face because he was instantly on alert, stilling his movements, like he was afraid that one wrong move would break you like china.

“I’ve never had anyone…” you cut yourself off, swallowing thickly, “I’m not sure what to do.”

“Don’t overthink it, okay? Just listen to your body and do whatever feels good. But mainly, just lay back and let me take care of you.”

“Alright,” you said, following his instructions.

But your eyes stayed on his as he moved his finger slowly, gaze locked upon yours. His eyes were dark, concentrated on you and only you and making sure you were constantly okay.

“Okay if I go for a second?” he asked, it teasing your entrance, “It’ll be a little of a stretch, but it’ll feel good within a few moments.”

“Go ahead,” you urged.

“Just relax for me darling, okay?” he soothed, pressing another kiss to the thigh his head was laying on, his free hand stroking the outside of your other thigh.

True to his word, there was a moment of discomfort, which he quickly distracted you by when his mouth hit your clit. Tongue lapped at it gently while his fingers stretched you and it felt amazing.

“Fucking hell, you’re amazing at that,” you moaned.

You felt his chuckle against you and the vibrations made your hips buck. Your body truly knew what to do and how to react as he worked you into a fit of frenzy.

His fingers pumped and curled while his mouth licked and sucked at your clit, the building climax in your belly become more and more apparent.

“Steve,” you whined.

You hardly recognized your voice, the breathy moan and eagerness of it, but that was the power he had over you in this moment.

You came fast and hard, blinding white a flash behind your eyes as you clutched the bedsheets, moans falling from you in rapid succession.

When he sat back, he studied you carefully.

“Doing alright, baby?”

Your chest was heaving, your panting breaths from the intense orgasm and pleasure leaving you absolutely breathless. You were still a bit foggy, but managed to nod before you spoke.

“Your mouth needs to come with a fucking warning label,” you panted.

He let out a hearty laugh as you sat up.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Just don’t let it go to your head,” you teased, kissing him.

When your hand reached inside his pants, he grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“You don’t have to. Not right now,” he said, knowing you were still getting used to intimacy and its acts.

“I want to,” you said, sitting on your knees, “Will you teach me how?”

He groaned low in his throat, reaching out to caress your cheek.

“How am I supposed to say no when you look at me like that?”

When he stood, quick enough to remove his pants, you gaped at his hardened cock. One, that was going to hurt like hell and two, your mind was reeling that he was so hard and throbbing—all because of you.

“If you’re worried it won’t fit, then don’t,” he chuckled, “I assure you, it will.”

“I hope,” you mumbled, unable to tear your gaze away, “I’m also kind of amazed.”

“What? Why?” he looked baffled.

“You’re that turned on…for me. Kinda mind blowing,” you laughed, hesitantly.

“Sweetheart, if only you knew how much you turn me on,” he mumbled, back in front of you again, “God, you get me so hard without trying.”

Your entire body heated, aching in more ways than one. You wanted him inside you, but you also ached to touch him and he must’ve seen the desire in your eyes because he reached for your hand gently, placing it on his throbbing cock.

“Like this?” you whispered, wrapping your hand around it firmly.

“Fuck, yes,” he breathed, “Baby, your touch, fuck.”

You pumped him slowly, then leaned down kissing the head, running your tongue over it.

He hissed, looking down at you through lidded eyes.

“Now what?” you asked.

“Take me in your mouth like—fuuuuck,” he groaned.

You felt yourself throbbing even more intensely. Even though he’d just given you the best orgasm you’d ever had, here you were aroused all over again just because of his moans.

Your tongue swirled lazily then you hollowed out your cheeks at his instruction and he pretty much became unable to form words other than praises for you, broken by moans.

“Sweetheart, Jesus, you’re gonna have to stop,” he breathed, pushing you away after a few moments.

“Did I do something wrong?” you asked, brows furrowing.

Now his chest was heaving, but he managed to let out a small chuckle.

“No, baby. If you kept doing that, I was going to cum down your throat and that’s not something I’m gonna make you do—especially it today.”

You had to admit the idea was quite appealing.

As he kissed you, he laid you back against the bed gently, knees parting your thighs. The nerves started to kick in again although you tried to hide it from Steve. But, he could read your body language way too well.

“You’re sure you still want to do this? We can stop if you want to, Y/N.”

“I’m sure. I’m just nervous,” you admitted.

“I got you,” he reassured you, “I’ll take it as easy as you want, alright?”

“Alright.”

You felt the head teasing your entrance and once he pushed in slowly, you winced. It wasn’t as much as pain as it was extreme discomfort—the feeling of something foreign invading the tight cavern of your pussy.

He stilled, giving you a moment. His eyes never left your face as he stroked a thumb over different places on your face. Across your cheekbone, your brow, across your Cupid’s bow as he waited for your affirmation to move a bit more.

With a nod, he pushed a bit more of his girth into you and you hissed, biting your lip. He was big and you could feel him stretching you to the point you were sure you would hear your muscles snap or something akin to that, it was that tight of a fit.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

Steve rubbed your sides as you did so, pushing fully in as you took a deep breath.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, not entirely sure in the moment of the sentiment was from the discomfort or the fact it did feel good.

“Still with me?” he asked, taking extra time to take sure you were okay before moving.

“I won’t be if you give me another mind blowing orgasm,” you mumbled sarcastically and he laughed in return.

He started moving gently as he kissed you, mumbling praises that you took him so well and were doing so good for him.

After a few thrusts, the discomfort dissipated and it truly did start to feel better. You still felt awkward and clumsy but you tried to listen to your body as Steve had instructed earlier.

Your hands came up to his shoulders, then to his back as he moved in a measured pace, making sure not to hurt you.

“You can go faster,” you whispered against his lips, assuring him you were okay.

He followed your command, his hips picking up pace. You were amazed that without much thought that your body truly knew what to do. Your hips rose and fell to meet his, chasing the feeling of pleasure as he rubbed against your walls.

Jesus, had you been missing out. Missing out on him as well. It was his first time exploring your body and even through the awkwardness and your timid nervousness, it was still purely, fucking amazing.

As your bodies became acquainted with one another, they rocked against each other, your moans mixing with his.

“You’re so beautiful,” he grunted, head dropping as his release was coming swiftly.

As much as you didn’t want the bliss to end, you were chasing that high again, the electric, lightning zapped feeling he’d made you feel from earlier. The building orgasm expanded tenfold when his thumb circled your clit. Within a blink of an eye, you were back in the throes of passion.

Pressed as close as you could to him before your release hit, you felt him shudder against you as he came with a groan, holding you tightly against him.

You practically collapsed into the bed, melting from the sheer exhaustion and overload of pleasure that was taking up space in your body at the moment. Steve’s hand came up to your face, pushing your sweaty hair off your face, fingertips grazing over your closed eyelids, lightly.

“You still with me, Y/N?” he asked softly, sounding as drained as you felt.

“Get back to me on that in 3 to 5 business days,” you groaned, face breaking into a grin when you heard him laugh.

You eyes opened and he gazed at you, concern still lingering in it.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” he frowned as he stroked your jaw.

“No, you were wonderful,” you smiled shyly, “Just one complaint. I’m gonna be walking with a limp for days.”

You actually groaned when he pulled out of you, the sudden loss making you feel empty in a way you’d never experienced before. You watched in confusion as he walked to the bathroom and you heard the faucet running.

He came back, ibuprofen bottle in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He laid it on the bedside before rejoining you in bed, pulling you in for some cuddles.

“Take two of those later, that should help with the pain,” he said, kissing your cheek.

“You’re too good to me, Steve.”

“As I said before, I got you. I always will.”

[demo-bats]

Yay I'm so happy you like my drawing! I do have a request if you don't mind writing it. I'd like a cute story about Eddie and a shy girl who works at an electronic shop. I imagine Eddie has to go to the shop sometime when he needs something for his electric guitar.

a/n: thanks for the request! i really enjoyed writing this. i tweaked it a little, hope you don’t mind! looking forward to any more art/requests :D

& ,, STALKER IN AISLE FIVE

eddie munson x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of sexual themes, eds calling himself a pervert lol, lots of awkward convo and fluff.

you notice a certain curly-haired nerd frequently visiting your workplace. finally, you decide to acknowledge his stalking. 1.9k

WORKING at Hawkins’ electronic store was not on your bucket list. Sure, you were fascinated by the up-and-coming technology that was slowly progressing as the years went on. But that didn’t stop your distaste for having to actually go in for your shifts.

Although the summer job had slowly spread into the rest of the year and your mind was ready to explode, you’d be lying if you said working there was all bad.

There was at least one thing you enjoyed. A certain curly-haired ‘freak’ who had a habit of stopping by multiple times a week.

You’d noticed him around three months ago. He had pranced in, mop of curls bouncing with every step he took. He was pretty to look at, although extremely eccentric, and you gathered that’s most likely the reason why your eyes had drifted to him in the first place.

But what held your gaze was how it was extremely obvious that he was coming there to see you.

You had only joined Hawkins High for your senior year, trying your best to avoid as many people as possible. You weren’t exactly the most friendly — Curse your awkwardness in social situations — But despite your quiet demeanour and sarcastic humour as a defence mechanism for your nerves, you had caught his eye years ago.

He’d thought he’d lost his chance to speak to you when you had graduated, but seeing you working here had felt like some sort of sign. He didn’t believe in God, but somebody had taken pity on him, and he would forever be doing penance for that.

The small, rusted bell above the door chimes as the hinges squeak, announcing a customer has arrived. You don’t bother looking up from your magazine, knowing already who’d be stupid enough to come in at 8:02am. 

You can feel a set of eyes on you as he wanders across the various aisles of cables and antennas, watching your chest press against the wooden counter. The only sound that fills the store is his heavy footsteps and the occasional turn of your page.

He feels like a pervert. The shame creeps up on him continuously when he finds himself staring, observing every small move you make. It’s the only thing that gratifies him, even though it’s just a reminder that he can’t find the courage to actually have a conversation longer than three sentences.

You sigh upon hearing him halt, never tearing your eyes away from the bold images in front of you. If he isn’t going to make a move, then maybe you can find some confidence from somewhere. “Can I help you, Eddie?”

Crash.

“Uh…” he lets out slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. He takes a quick peek at the mess of display tapes he’s knocked over, cursing internally at his body’s reaction to hearing you speak his name. “Clean up on aisle five?”

You try not to smile, tilting your head down further to hide your amusement. “Better put those hands to good use then.”

Eddie tries to ignore the sexual meaning he takes away from your words, burning red as he drops to his knees dramatically to quickly to stack the shelf again. He tries to organise them, but the current state of his bedroom proves that he’s already no good at that. You can hear him curse from your position behind the desk, despite him uttering it under his breath.

“Just leave it,” you announce quickly, worried you’d put far too much pressure on him. You’d only meant it as a joke, not expecting the boy to actually fold in half and bend to your commands. It’s a little too much power to hold, something you’d never experienced before. “I get paid to do that, so…”

“Right,” he lets out, trying to smoothly saunter up to the counter. He ends up whacking his knee into another cabinet on the way there, earning an actual physical laugh from you this time. He feels proud, despite knowing deep down that you’re really just laughing at his pain. If a fool is his part to play, then he’ll play it with an award-winning performance. “Anyways, uh, I’m here to…” He scans the shop, desperately looking for an excuse. “Guitar strings. Want ‘em. Need ‘em, actually. Pesky thing...”

He trails off with an awkward laugh, watching your eyebrows raise in amusement. You let him ramble on about the importance of his music and how sacred it is, unable to find your voice after initially greeting him. It’s something you’ve always struggled with. The sole reason you had graduated with decent grades but not a single person to celebrate that achievement with. You wanted interaction, but with the students of Hawkins High already making assumptions about your quietness, it was hard to do so.

Eddie notices your silence after a minute or two, cheeks reddening from his mouth’s persistence. He tilts his head, a grin widening on his face when you match his smile. “Yeah… and you definitely don’t get paid enough to deal with idiots like me.”

“You’re not an idiot,” you state almost immediately, words coming out a little raspy. You weren’t even sure what you wanted to say in response to so much attention from one person, but luckily your brain makes that decision for you for once. “Kind of chatty, but that's okay.”

“Usually my voice can lull a thousand people. I’m like a siren, truly.” He gets another laugh from you, one that’s snorted and entirely unattractive. To him? It’s the most beautifully raw sound he’s ever heard. He decides then and there that he’s already in love with it. “Guitar strings? Yes?”

You falter, suddenly coming back down to reality from the cloud he’d ascended you to. Of course, the essential thing he’d ‘come in’ for. Even though you know it’s just a rouse, you can’t help but feel bad when you break the news to him.

“You… know this is an electronics store, right? We don’t sell anything, like, remotely close to guitars.” You watch his smile evidently drop, although he manages to somehow keep the corners of his lips upturned. There’s a flash of rejection that passes over his eyes, a look that has your heart squeezed impossibly tight. Eddie is the only person who’s remotely considered approaching you, other than the band of jocks that occasionally took a dig at your shy nature. In light, he was the only person who’d been kind. You didn’t want to let that go. 

You can see the tops of his thighs twitch, the only part of his legs visible from where you’re standing. It’s enough to alert you that he’s going to leave, and although this is your first time conversing something other than ‘Enjoy your purchase’ or ‘Have a nice day’, you found yourself oddly connected to him.

So much so, that you offer the only thing that comes to your mind.

“W-We do sell amps though!”

Eddie Munson finds himself the new owner of a glossed amplifier a few moments later, covering the empty hole in his wallet where his cash should be with a forced smile. He’ll have to explain the lack of groceries to his uncle later. Something a lot better than wanting to impress a person he finds attractive.

“Aaaand here’s your receipt. You can return it within ten days if there’s any issues. Company policy, and all that fine print stuff…” You don’t finish the rest of your trained response, deciding he’s probably bought enough things in here over the last few months to know what you’re going to say. He simply nods, patting the large speaker awkwardly on the desk.

“Forgot how big these things are,” he begins, smoothing his palm over the dials and buttons as you draw your bottom lip between your teeth to suppress another laugh. He lets out a low whistle, and you ignore how your neck begins to flush with heat at the sound. “Like, wayyyy too big. Huge. Enormous, even-”

“You already have an amp, don’t you?” You finally put him out of his misery, watching his nose scrunch in embarrassment before he pats the speaker again, this time a little more forcefully.

“...Yeah.”

You open the till. “Okay, give it back. I’ll refund you-”

“W-What? No- No no no, I can take it. I don’t wanna get you in trouble, or anything- I’m a bad influence but not this bad.” He rushes out, hands waving in front of his face in frantic motions. You reach forward bravely, taking a hold of them to still his movements.

His breath hitches.

You strain your neck to look behind him, gazing over the empty parking spots out front on the street. They’ve been barren since last night. “I don’t see your van outside. There’s no way I’m going to actually let you carry that.” You chuckle along with your words, watching Eddie blink rapidly at you.

“You know my van?” He asks out of disbelief, but there’s a hint of a teasing tone to his words. He doesn’t mean to. However, there’s a natural charm and cockiness to him that never seems to cease. You kind of like it.

The sound of the register opening distracts him from his shocked stare, coins jingling within the metal. You count out the bills he’d handed over, sliding them across the counter with another timid grin.

“Being off the radar means I do a lot of observing,” Eddie gingerly reaches up to swipe the money, short-circuiting when his fingers envelop yours, unmoved from where you had originally laid them down. “Like what car you drive, and the new patch on your jacket, and the fact that you’ve been in here five times this week already.”

This time, Eddie blushes. A full-on rosy tint that spreads across his cheeks like the first brush stroke to an empty canvas. It paints him beautifully, mentally applauding yourself for finding comfortability in talking to him. It’s a personal success you can celebrate later.

“I… didn’t realise you could see me.” He admits honestly, rubbing at the back of his neck as he takes a quick glance around the store. His body physically turns to spy his multitude of hiding spaces, ones that he’s thought were somewhat decent. He hides his dismay well.

“You’re kind of hard not to look at,” Eddie nearly contracts whiplash at your response, eyes wide and mouth agape at your somewhat confession. Him? Lanky, scrawny, non-showered, freaky nerd Eddie Munson? You giggle at his obvious starstruck expression, deciding to take another leap of faith. You lean forward over the counter with the cash in hand, fingertips tracing the waist of his jeans as you stuff the bills into his front pocket. “See you same time tomorrow for those guitar strings?”

Eddie nods, body numb and on auto-pilot as he backs out of the store. His parted lips soon pull together to produce a grin when he reaches the door, green notes protruding from his pocket like some sort of ‘mark’ you’d left on him. He tries not to let his mind wander too far at that idea, for his own sanity.

“It’s a date.” He mutters eagerly, despite knowing that a ten minute conversation at your workplace is the worst romantic idea he’s ever come up with.

Still, you eat up every ounce of his dorky charm with a wide grin and a flutter in your stomach. “Yeah... It's a date, stalker in aisle five.”

[doublejango]

Vox started to answer, but stopped himself with a shake of his head, taking a moment to think about it instead. He had to step up onto one of the rungs of the fence so he could lean over enough to look down; from up there on the bridge, they had a lovely view of the graceful creatures gliding past them, directly underneath.

"I guess it's that they're so... effortless. Or they look that way. The way they move, how they glide. They fly. Like they're completely free. I only saw one once while I was alive, and I was too stunned to be afraid. It swam past me, majestic. The master of its domain.

"They're dangerous. They don't stop. They can't stop. They process so much information so readily, without needing any powers to do it. I guess maybe I envy them. Their ease. Their--how they just fit. They belong. There are no acts to put on, no shows, no lines, nothing but their grace. If they have to kill, they do it. They don't--regret it. I can't imagine it's every hard for a shark." He leaned over a little farther, carefully tucking one heel under a rung to ensure he couldn't slip, or be pushed, the kind of precaution most Sinners in Hell were likely fully accustomed to themselves; one never knew when a friend might decide to turn foe.

Once the sharks had finally wandered out of view, Vox pushed himself up. He went and leaned against the fence on the other side of the bridge from Angel, elbows comfortably back on it. Their feet were fairly close together, the angle of their bodies making a nice vee away from each other. In the darkening evening air, it felt nice, he thought. Comfortable. Not wanting the moment to end, Vox thought back to the other things Angel had said, and asked about. Smiling, he shrugged.

"You do look amazing. Kind of your thing, right? And sure, I try not to notice. You're Val's boyfriend," Vox said it with a completely straight face, "and I try not to intrude on your whole... thing you two have going on. Despite sometimes getting jealous. But I am capable of seeing beauty, Angel." Some sort of small dragonish hellbeast flew over. Vox tilted his head back to look at it, watching its flight. "And you're right, Val threw a shitfit. I left a few hours after you did. I wasn't going to come, but he was throwing such a tantrum, I hit my wall. There's only so much Val Anger Management I can do before," he made an explosion sound, quiet but augmented by his speakers to sound nearly like the real thing, "I want to explode.

"But hey, screw Val. He's an idiot and we love him, but he's not here and we are. Tell me something about yourself, Angel? Something you want me to know, though, I'm not trying to pressure you for secrets."

"Mm, why do yeh' think ah'm layin' here doin' a bunch of nothin'?" He teased right back, though Vox would know. While Angel Dust wasn't nearly as go go go as the other sinner was, he certainly worked himself to exhaustion. Or, well, Valentino did. The amount of live shows lined up, the hours of terribly written pornos, the overnights on the street to earn his pimp more money. Angel Dust deserved the fucking break. Relaxing on the beach was well earned.

Though he had certainly heard the allegedly, and he knew exactly what Vox had meant - the Overlord was not just doing nothing on this beach trip. It had been part of why he had agreed to go see the sharks, maybe to take Vox away from the many other screens he possessed. Maybe because the other had offered him free booze which he would never pass up on. Maybe because Vox looked stunning like this, even if he had hid himself away - oh yeah, Angel had noticed.

He didn't really notice the thrill that came with seeing the sharks, but it was nice to see the other so....happy. It wasn't a mood that he had ever witnessed Vox in much. He'd seen his angry, manipulative side. He'd seen his overly cheery positive CEO face. He'd seen the stressed, running on too much coffee, working himself to exhaustion mode. But this? Considering his disdain for the Vees, for many obvious reasons, it was....nice. To see a side of Vox that he hadn't really gotten to experience.

He was caught off guard by the question, to the point that the words, "Yeh' think ah' look incredible?" spilled out before he could even think about them. This day was just full of surprises, wasn't it? Angel was glad that his sunglasses hid the confusion in his eyes, if only because it made no sense. Val and Vox were a thing. That much had been....incredibly fucking obvious. Angel might be Valentino's little fuck toy, but he wasn't the boyfriend. That role belonged to the man beside him.

He tried to shake off the shock, ignoring the way he could feel the flush of his cheeks, shrugging his shoulders. "Guess ah'm doin' whateva' Charlie decides tah' do f' activities. Ah'm here tah' support her mostly. Cause ah' know damn well Val is gonna be pissed that ah' took a week off." A sigh at that, though he still kept on a smile. "Ah' know she's doin' an open mic night, which ah'm definitely not gonna miss. And th' fireworks do sound pretty cool."

Crossing the bridge to the lagoon in which Vox had spoken about, Angel found himself leaning slightly over the somewhat fenced area, looking at the sharks that were swimming. Hell was weird. Some animals acted like animals - Keke and Fat Nuggets being prime examples - while some sinners were animals. He'd had enough run-ins with sharks to not find them appealing, though a lot of them did give the mafia vibes he thought were kinda hot.

"So, sharks. What is it about sharks, hm?" He asked, tilting his head, never taking his eyes off the giant fish. "When ah' was alive, th' only use sharks had was tah' eat th' bodies we'd throw out inta' the river, once they hit the ocean. Yeh' know, th' whole stereotype of swimmin' wit' th' fishes." A roll of eyes - mobsters were so dramatic.