#i have not touch a pencil for nearly two months

[justanotheruser]

Beloved bard 🎵

[sweatyracoon]

Can u pls do a story where like Hyunjin/Lee know is touching u during class? (Pls I’m desperate😭😭😭)

Casual Distractions

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A/n: I'm so sorry it took so long. Life has been kicking my ass. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: smut, public scenes, social anxiety, threesome? Mxm, bullying, language

You were new to this college, and it didn't help that the language was more than difficult to learn. You were nearly fluent, but knew nothing if the inside jokes or curse words, which was almost everyone your ages' dialogue.

You found it hard to make friends after the transfer, but one person was always kind to you.

His name was Han, and his English was perfect almost. He helped you out in certain course since you shared them, helping you with your pronunciation and all that jazz.

He eventually introduced you to his group of friends that had been together forever. Eight in total.

They were known as Strays. They couldn't be more different from one another. And to top it off, most of them knew English. Two were Australian, and one had lived in America for a short time.

Ironically near you, actually.

All of them were polite to you, but you kept your distance, not trying to force yourself in.

It had been months since you met them all, and it had become routine for you to sit with them in the cafeteria per Felix's request.

You still kept quiet, not confident on your Korean yet.

One day, you and Han were having a study session at your dorm, and got on the topic of crushes.

"If you had to pick between any of my friends, who would you want to fuck you?" He asked randomly, his face blank as if it were the most natural question.

You nearly choked on nothing, staring at him in shock.

"Excuse me?"

He looked at you, confused.

"I said, if one of my friends-"

"I know what you said, Han! But why?" You scoffed, jabbing at his shoulder playfully.

He pretended it hurt, sticking his tongue to you.

"Who do you think is hot? That's what I meant, y/n! Gosh," He grinned, watching your ears turn pink.

"What makes you think I like any of them?" You ask, your fingers fiddling with the edge of your textbook.

"Girl. It's a hypothetical question.." His eyes squint at you in silent question, and smile playing on his face.

You pause to think, unsure if you should tell him, knowing he was a blabber mouth. But you could easily say it was hypothetical just as Han did.

"Uhh, maybe....Hyunjin? Or-"

"I knew it! I knew you like him- wait did you just say 'or'?" He paused his prediction, wanting to hear who else you were going to say.

"I was gonna say, or Minho, Han."

You both sat there, looking at one another. He blinked while you shifted uncomfortably, not used to long periods of eye contact.

"Why him? Have either of you even said a word to one another?" He flicked at his pencil, holding it as if he were going to write.

"Not really...he's just gorgeous, you know?" You mutter, turning your attention back to your notebook. You felt judged despite them being friends. It almost seemed as if he were disappointed.

"Your right," you could hear the smile behind his words, making you look back up, returning it brightly.

"To be fair, though, we're all gorgeous, girly," He pitched his voice, flashing his undone nails making you cackle.

He lightened the mood knowing you weren't feeling right with how it was going. It was the main reason he was your best friend. He understood.

You both continued to joke and study, getting ready for the upcoming class.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, the only class you don't have with Han is the class you have with Hyunjin and Minho, ironically.

Hyunjin always says hello, and Lee Know just nods at you with a smile, but today, neither of them did so.

You looked at them multiple times, noticing how they glanced at you some times. It made you nervous. You wondered if you did something wrong that offended them.

They never sat next to you, but today they seemed farther than usual.

Their shoulders raised higher than they should be, almost making it seem like they were out of breath.

You were about to text Han in question, but the teacher called you out.

"Y/n, please step outside for your phone call seeing as it is more important than class,"

You looked up, seeing everyone's head snap towards you. Your heart stopped, "No, I-" your words got caught in your throat as you cleared it loudly.

You felt your face flush.

Sighing in defeat, you grabbed your belongings and darted out the door, catching the way Lee Know and Hyunjin looked at you with what looked like pity.

You held your head low, sighing loudly when you reached the empty hallway.

You walked towards the girls restroom, stopping before the janitors closet, just hoping for some quiet.

It doesn't last long.

You heard a door snap from behind you, making you jump, turning to see if you were in anyone's way.

But it was just the two boys you had been worried about all day.

"You okay, y/ninnie? We saw you freeze in the back," Hyunjin observed, his hands in his pockets as he stood to your right, Minho on the other.

"Oh! Yeah, M'okay. Just want the world to swallow me right now," you chuckled, your shoulders deflating.

"Don't worry about that asshole, okay? Just giving you a hard time," Minho scoffed, staring at the door leading to his classroom.

"Why are you guys out here, though? He's going over the test on Monday." You wonder, not wanting them to fail because they were worried about you.

"We just wanted to see you," Hyunjin said, making you confused.

"See me? You see me every other day," you reply, tilting your head.

"We just have something on our minds I guess. You are the only person we can talk to about it though," Hyunjin grinned, nudging against Minho, who smiled wickedly next to him.

Your heart dropped.

"A little Birdy may have told us something you said from yesterday," Minho growled, bringing his arm to cage your left to the wall while Hyunjin did the same on the other side. You squeezed, making them chuckle.

"Hans a liar," you whispered, feeling your face warm up.

"Are you sure, baby? Cause we can give you what you want," Hyunjin groaned next to your ear, your body shivering in anticipation.

"I-I-" you stuttered, your breathing suddenly shallow as you try to clear your foggy mind.

"Relax," Minho whispered.

Thats when you heard a door handle turning behind you, the wall disappearing that held you, making you fall. But Hyunjin was behind you in seconds, gently bringing you to the tile floor in the closet, Minho closing and locking the door behind him.

You three had officially now moved out of the public eye, away from any onlookers.

"This okay, Princess?" Minho asks as he kneels next to you, your faces inches away.

You breathe out a shaky yes before he nods, looking at your lips then back to you.

He leans in, locking his lips with yours as he started gentle, quickly becoming more rough but the second.

You moaned into Minho as you felt another pair of hands fondling your clothes breasts.

Hyunjin took his time, not bothering to take of your shirt, hoping you wouldn't look like walking sex by the time they were done with you.

He wanted to feel your nipple between his teeth, but he told himself to wait. That they can have you properly after school.

Minho growled into the kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat as you panted into his mouth.

"Let me have a turn, hyung!" Hyunjin whined as he played with your clothes nubs.

Minho pulled himself off of you, grunting. You didn't like the loss if contact, grabbing at his forearms.

"Finally," Hyunjin chuckled, grabbing the back of your head to pull you into him.

His lips crashed against yours, the rhythm easy to control.

Lee Know took his chance to run his hand up your skirt, fisting the fabric of your underwear before pushing them aside.

He ran his fingers through your slick folds, moaning at the feeling of your excessive wetness.

He shoved his middle finger into your hole, pumping slowly as Hyunjin sucked the air from you.

You were both moaning, the kiss getting sloppier until it was just wet pecks.

"Feel good, baby?" Hyunjin asked as he listened to Minho add another finger, the slickness making a sinful sound in the quiet closet."S'good,"

Your head tilted back, Hyunjin takes his chance to nip at your collar bone, leaving a trail of marks. He tried keeping them close to your neckline, hoping you could hide them.

You grabbed at his hair with a moan, pulling it gently as Minho quickened his pace.

He groaned against your neck, teeth scraping against the purple spots now blossoming on your neck.

They both kept at it until you felt the knot forming in your stomach.

"There!" You plead, Lee Know hitting your g-spot roughly now with three fingers.

"Here, baby?" He teases, now hitting it harder.

You were writhing underneath them as you felt your wife snap, your high washing over you suddenly.

Your body shook from overstimulation, nearly crying as they pushed themselves from you after you came down.

"That felt so good," You mutter, your eyes fluttering shut.

They both smirked at one another.

When you opened your eyes, you saw Minho pushing his wet fingers into Hyunjins mouth, his eyes rolling back at the taste of you.

The sight of them being intimate made your hole clench around nothing.

"Come over after school?" You asked them quietly, and try both nodded.

"we'll make you feel a lot more, I promise," Hyunjin smirked, pecking your lips gently. Minho did the same, helping you up.

All the way to class, you could feel your slick drip down lower on your thigh, making you both embarrassed and aroused as you thought about what they would do to you.

[sunsburns]

[ nsfw 17+ ]

i’ve been thinking about frat boy!luke who tries to throw the biggest party the world has ever seen at least once a month. he's one of those guys who is actually convinced he can throw a party exactly like project x. but maybe even better (his words i swearr).

he’d even be corny enough to print out a bunch of invites and just throw them around the school so whoever’s interested can just show up.

and that's where you met him, at his biggest party yet. the party was already at full swing when you got there; music blaring through the speakers, colourful lights glowing from the open windows. students and crashers alike jumping to the music and holding red cups in their hands.

and then you catch his eye. he’s standing near the backyard, just walking back into the house to get more drinks when he spots you.

and yeah, you’ve had a class or two with him before, he might have asked you for a pencil once. you doubt he remembers you though.

but then one look turned into three, and the lingering stares from across the room, and knowing smiles, and nudges from friends continue.

you eventually bump into him on the dance floor, both tipsy. a drunk smile crosses your face as you wordlessly start to dance together.

what starts off innocent quickly turns into something more, your hands brush his arms, his hands find themselves comfortable on your sides, and they start to crawl to your waist, then your hips, and if you were a little braver, you might’ve grabbed his collar and kissed him then.

but instead, luke took your hand in his, and he leaned closer, close enough for him to ask you if you wanted to go somewhere a little more private. somewhere quieter, he said, so you could talk.

and you would’ve loved to talk to him, to get to know who the real luke castellan was, his interests, what he studies, where he’s from. but all those questions start to blur the moment you find yourself climbing up the stairs, turning corners and giggling behind him when he walks in on a couple fucking in the bathroom.

you barely remember what you want to ask him when he pushes you against a wall at the end of the hallway, music a little muffled, breaths a lot louder. and now you’re gasping into his mouth, your teeth crashing against his because there’s no coordination in your movements. one hand at the back of your neck to hold you while his tongue slips into your mouth.

and you’re both touching each other, hands wandering over clothes, fingers twitching to touch the warmth of skin, squeezing whatever there was to squeeze frantically.

your head spinning as his other hand pulls your leg up, up and up until you can wrap it around his hips, and he presses his crotch against yours. he tastes like cheap liquor and bad mistakes, and you try to ignore the way your stomach twists whenever he says your name (or at least something that sounds like it, maybe off by a syllable or two).

you bite his lower lip, tugging on it with your teeth and you let go to stare at him for just a second. he's a lot prettier up close. his big pouty lips, the scruff hair on his face. the way he smirks at you before pulling his cap off and placing it over your hair. “fit’s like a charm.”

you roll your eyes, “shut up.”

his hands find themselves under your shirt, cupping your boob and squeezing them gently as he sucks a bruise to your neck. you decide to take a leap and reach for his crotch, glancing down the hallway to make sure you’re away from peering eyes before you unbuckle his belt and grope him over his boxers.

it's all wreckless, and messy, where he tries to undo the buttons of your shorts but his fingers are trembling from you touching him. and while you’re not actually sure of what you’re doing, you love the noises luke is making, so you keep going.

he’s huffing into your neck, your ear, then back into your mouth, little whines that urge you to move faster, his black cap nearly slipping off your head.

“fuck- wait wait,” he sputters, pulling away from you.

you need to suck in a deep breath to clear your head. “what-?”

“you're in my calc class, right?”

“seriously?”

[pedrito-friskito]

hello my dear!! 🫶🏼

🌸🌸🌸

eddie with smut prompts 10 & 1 pls 🥵

hello my love!!!!

I apologize in advance for this (well, kinda but not really…)

patience (or a lack thereof) - eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: the horny really jumped out on this one. drug use, cockwarming, unprotected p-in-v, fingering, dirty talk, soft dom!eddie vibes (I think)

The problem here, is that weed makes you horny.

Like…really horny.

Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem. Friday nights at Eddie’s place have a pretty repetitive flavour, and it’s one you now crave. You’ve been seeing each other nearly six months now, and your friends have all given you shit for it, but you don’t care. Fridays are for Eddie.

More specifically, Fridays are for getting stoned in Eddie’s bedroom and cumming so many times you lose count. 

By now, you’d usually be between his sheets already, two or three rounds down, a quick breather in between. But tonight, something’s thrown a wrench in your usual plans. Really, it’s your own fault — you’d shown up unannounced at Eddie’s place Wednesday night, the night he usually reserved for D&D planning. Wayne had taken an extra overnight shift, leaving the place to the two of you, and well, you made the most of it.

But with Wednesday night planning out the window, Eddie has a Saturday session and nothing prepared, which you know is not a good thing.

But weed makes you horny.

You’re sprawled out on his bed, your pants long discarded, wearing only one of Eddie’s Hellfire shirts, flipping through one of his music magazines. You’ve tried reading the book you keep in your bag, tried distracting yourself by changing the records on the player, you even tried taking a quick cat nap. Nothing has worked. The ache between your legs is ridiculous.

He’s been at it a couple hours now, and you know he takes his time when it comes to D&D. He’s meticulous with his planning, thinking out every possible outcome and coming up with a contingency for each, even having a few throwaway plans just in case his players come up with something completely outrageous. You don’t mind it at all; it’s quite the opposite actually. His passion is…sexy, in a nerdy kind of way. It just adds to his charm.

And right now, it’s not helping matters. He’s perched in his desk chair, flipping through the Dungeon Master’s Guide, a pencil between his teeth. He’s wearing an old Hawkins High Phys Ed t-shirt, sweat shorts, and his hair's a mess. Unable to stop yourself, you roll off the mattress and onto your feet, crossing the room and standing behind his chair. He makes a little noise as you gather his hair in your hand, sweeping it over his shoulder so you can fit your face in the curve of his neck.

“Eds.”

“I know, baby,” he replies, the words muffled by the pencil between his teeth. “I’m almost done, I swear. Gimme like five minutes, and then I’m all yours, yeah?”

You whine, closing your lips around his pulse. You left a nice hickey there the other night, and your cloudy mind yells at you to make it bloom against his pale skin even brighter this time. Your arms hang over his shoulders, pressing your palms against his stomach, humming into his neck.

“Eddie, please?”

Your hands move lower, one glancing across the crotch of his shorts. The pencil falls out of his mouth. “Sweetheart,” he sing-songs, a halfhearted warning. But you do it again, fixated on the way his cock twitches to attention, even with just the lightest of touches. You let your teeth graze his throat, nipping at the same spot until the bruise starts to reform. Eddie tilts his head back, a low rumble moving through his chest, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. When they open again, his pupils are blown, and he lifts his hand, burying his fingers in your hair. “Someone’s needy tonight.”

“You know that weed makes me ho—”

“Weed makes your horny, I know, baby,” he finishes, dragging his nail lightly against your scalp. “I’m almost finished, I promise. Come here.”

He turns in the chair, swinging around until you’re standing between his legs. Eddie drags his hands up your thighs, the cool metal of his rings making you shiver. He’s fully hard now, shorts tented, and he hooks one thumb in the waist of your underwear, pulling it down slightly. It makes you throb.

“You can sit on my lap till I’m finished,” he says, squeezing your hips. “That make you feel better?”

Your eyes widen slightly, feeling yourself melt into his touch. “You mean…?”

“Come here,” he says again, his tone more assertive this time. He pulls your underwear down further, lifting the hem of your shirt at the same time, and swoops in, pressing a sloppy kiss to your hip. Your underwear drops to the floor and you kick the fabric away. Everything in you goes tight as he hooks his fingers in the waist of his shorts, pulling them off and settling back in his chair. The sight of his cock curving towards his belly makes your mouth fill with saliva. “You need something else first?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly. “Need me to open you up a bit, pretty girl?”

He pulls you closer, one hand back on your hip, and the other slides between your knees, moving up to the inside of your thighs. He moans when he feels out wet you are, dragging his fingers through it, pushing them past his lips a second later as he pulls your body even closer. You move quickly, lifting your legs and planting your knees on the seat either side of his hips.

Eddie grins as you lower yourself slowly, reaching around to take himself in hand, guiding his cock into your nearly dripping pussy. The feeling is overwhelming, to say the least, and you bury your face in his neck again as you sink down, your breathing coming faster as he fills you up. 

Fully seated, your first instinct is to move, rolling your hips into his, but Eddie grips your waist tightly, clucks his tongue at you. “Ah, ah, ah, not yet, sweetheart. Let me finish first, and then I’ll take care of you, alright?”

When you don’t answer right away, he lifts his hips slightly, the tip of his cock nudging at that delicious nerve inside you. “Shit.”

“Gimme five minutes, baby,” he says again. He takes your hands, draping your arms around his neck. A soft kiss is pressed to your mouth, and you have to stop yourself from chasing it, taking what he gives. “Just five minutes.”

It’s fucking torture. Five minutes feels like five hours. Every tiny movement makes the pleasure spark, but it’s just shy of not enough, leaving you wanting more and more and more. If it’s driving Eddie just as crazy, he doesn’t let it show, giving you a broad grin when you settle deeper into his lap, resting your forehead against the dip of his shoulder. 

Finally — fucking finally — he flips his notebook closed, tosses his pen aside, and puts his hands on you. He grabs your hips again, guiding you along him, and the sudden movement sets your whole body alight. You toss your head back, your mouth dropping open as he lifts you up, pulls you back down. He fills you so perfectly, leaning in to suck a mark at your collar.

“There she is,” he murmurs, dragging the tip of his nose along the underside of your jaw. “C���mon, my needy girl, tell me how bad you want it.”

Eddie slides his hands under the hem of your shirt, fingers tapping along your rib cage. Your fingers chase his, reaching for the edge of the fabric, pulling it up and over your head. You toss it away, and Eddie groans, instantly lowering his head, scraping his teeth along your tits, your nipples pebbling at his attention. Your hips roll, dragging yourself along his cock, the pleasure making your eyes roll back.

“Look at you,” he moans, sucking a bruise beside your nipple, his other hand coming up to toy with the other. “You just need to be fucked so bad, don’t you?”

“Eds, please,” you manage to mumble out, a whine trapped high in your throat. You can feel how wet you are, the slick glide of your thighs against his. He grins, pulling his face from your chest, tilting his head back so his nose pokes yours.

“Almost there,” he says, his voice goading. “Use your words. Tell me.”

“Eddie—”

“Tell me specifically,” he mutters, pinching your chin in one hand, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip, “how bad you want it.”

You start babbling. His request opens the floodgates. Your words are in time to the movement of your hips, and Eddie is grinning like the devil he is. Please, Eddie, I want it so bad, I want you so bad, fuck me please, I want it hard, want it fast, wanna feel you tomorrow. Please, please, please, please, please.

He gives you what you want.

You squeal when he scoops his hands under your thighs, lifting you as he moves out of the chair, keeping himself buried inside you. He aims for the bed, you think, but gets thrown off course, and instead you end up sprawled on the floor of his room. He hikes your legs over his hips, grabs your waist and pulls you down onto him with every thrust.

Back arching against the floor, you’re climbing higher and higher, and the weed buzzing in your veins only makes it that much more thrilling. You’re probably going to have carpet burn on your ass, but you don’t fucking care.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Eddie coos, and when your thigh starts to shake, he drops a hand between your legs, tracing his fingers over where he’s disappearing inside you before drawing a perfect circle around your clit. “Give it to me.”

You nearly shout his name as you cum, and Eddie rides you through it, his own orgasm not far behind. He pulls out at the last second, cums hot against your stomach, and flops down on the floor beside you. His hand lingers, tracing the curve of your tits, making them peak harder just for him. You curl your hand around the back of his neck, keeping him close while you catch your breath.

“You alright, baby?” he asks, dropping his jaw to kiss your shoulder, still petting his hand across your chest. “You want a pillow or something?”

You shake your head no. “Just…don’t move yet.”

Eddie chuckles, teeth nipping at your skin. “Okay, baby.”

Your body is caught between begging for more and tapping out for the night, but you think you know where the scales are about to tip. Especially if he keeps touching you like that. Your mind whirls, eyes fluttering open so you can look at him.

“Can I ask you something?” you murmur.

Eddie hums the affirmative, sitting up slightly to pull his shirt over his head. He uses it to clean his cum from your stomach and leans over you slightly, mouthing at your tits again. “Anything, baby.”

“Why didn’t you ever make a move on me before,” you ask, “when we were in high school?”

He tilts his head, lifting one brow with his lips still latched to your skin. “Why do you ask?”

“Just realizing how much mind-blowing sex I missed out on,” you reply.

Eddie chuckles. “I wanted to make a move. I really wanted to, trust me. But you had a thing for jocks back then, if I remember correctly.” He bites at you again, softly, dropping his chin to your chest. You can feel his hand roaming lower, glancing over your knees and thighs. Your legs part slightly, letting him in again, your blood spiking when his fingers trace the inside of your thigh. “It sucked, honestly. You have no idea how much I hated seeing someone else touch you, when I wanted it to be me.”

The tips of his fingers prod at you, curling just slightly. “But now you can,” you tell him, your voice turning breathy again, back arching as he pushes his fingers deeper, scrapes his teeth against your nipple.

“Now I can,” he agrees, “and I’m never gonna stop.”

[vainvenus]

⌲;꒰ Favorite boy in the Valley ꒱

Pairing - Eli Moskowitz x Fem!Reader

Synopsis - Eli's doubting your relationship so you have to confirm some things for him.

Includings - S1!Eli no Hawk, insecurities, crying, embarrassed and blushing Eli, lots of kisses, words of affirmation, small bits of angst, a bunch of fluff

An - First post back with a new fixation! All tags used are fandoms I write for so feel free to request anything

And if anybodys interested I'm currently writing a Scream Au!Cobra Kai on quotev under the same name I use on here

Eli had been a bit off lately and it was starting to worry you.

Eli was generally a quiet person, he had been that way since you met him and he still was. But even given his quiet nature if there was a topic he was interested in and the right people were talking about it he would add in an opinion or two.

And he would be more than happy to rant to you of all people about a new series he had started up or to talk about one of the movies you recommended to him so that the two of you could gush about it and share opinions, but recently he had been a lot quieter.

You shut your locker, smiling over at the dirty blonde. "So, have you watched clueless yet? The fashion in that is-"

"Uh..no, sorry. I was...uhm...busy." He interrupted, staring down at his feet at the lie he told, he watched it twice and wanted nothing more than to go on and on about it.

You rose a brow, head tilting slightly as you stared at him with a look that almost made him call his bluff. "Busy?"

He just nodded quietly.

Then about a week ago, when you asked him if he wanted to come over after school to do a Marvel marathon he had quickly declined, saying that he had other plans and before you could ask what those plans were he went to go talk to Demetri.

He would usually walk you to class, everybody saying that wherever you were he had to be somewhere close by but recently as you waited outside your classroom for him he would be nowhere to found and that made your heart sink a little bit.

"Hey, you weren't outside my English class to walk me to culinary today." You frowned, setting your lunch tray next to his and taking your seat. "I wanted to tell you that I aced my essay..."

Eli glanced over at you and moved his nail from between his teeth. A nasty habit you had been trying to get him to stop doing for months and you were real close until he started becoming distant.

"I was just...just rushing to get to Chemistry. I had a really important test and wanted to get some extra study time in." He explained and you slowly nodded, deciding not to bring up the fact that his test was tomorrow.

He also stopped holding your hand, the first thing he could make the first move on, something he could confidently do if he was feeling nervous or just wanted to touch you. Normally he would hold it as he walked you to your classes or even when the two of you were sitting together at lunch but he started to pull his hand away or shove it into his pocket.

And what really got you was when he started denying your kisses. At first you thought it would just be by accident or he didn't want a kiss at the moment since he was still getting comfortable with PDA but you soon realized that he was dodging your kisses, tilting and moving his head when you leaned in.

It was all really confusing. You didn't understand why he was acting like this and it left you wondering if you had did something wrong. Maybe you had done something that made him upset with you?

You sighed, leaning onto Demetri's shoulder. "Its like when we first met all over again, Dem. He's just been so distant and I don't know whats the matter. Has he been acting different with you?"

"No, he hasnt." Demetri bluntly answered, shaking his head while his eyes stayed focused on the homework you let out a long sigh. "Then it's me, I have to be the problem."

The brunette sighed, putting his pencil down and turning his head to look at you, nearly giving you a death glare. "Look, you just need to talk to him, alright? He's probably going through another one of his slumps and needs some reassurance."

You had groaned, rubbing your hand along your face. "Of course, why hadn't you thought of that before? "Thanks, Dem! You're so good at giving advice, can't believe I didn't think that. God I'm dumb sometimes."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know I am and I know you are. Now, can we please finish our homework now that you're done moping?"

"[Y/n], Eli didn't tell me you were coming."

You smiled up at his mother as you held a new copy of the comic book Eli had ranted about a while ago along with a bag of some of his favorite snacks. "Yeah, I wanted to surprise him."

"Well he's upstairs in his room." She hummed, closing the door behind you as you walked up the stairs and down the hall to the boy's room, lifting your knuckles up to knock on the door.

There was a bit of shuffling before the door opened and Eli's eyes were wide with surprise upon seeing you. "[Y/n]? What..What are you doing here?"

"I just really need to talk to you. Can I come in, please?"

He seemed hesitant at first before reluctantly nodded and opened his door all the way. You set the things you brought for him on the table then walked over to sit across from him on his bed.

You looked at him, staring into his eyes as you reached out to grab his hand and rubbed your thumb over the back of it. "Eli, talk to me. What's the matter? What's going on?"

"It's nothing-" He started but you weren't buying it, obviously. "Eli we both know that's a lie. You haven't really been yourself lately and I just need to know why. I'm here for you. Is it something that I've done or anything I can fix?"

"Unless you can fix me being a freak, no, you can't."

Your face softened as you held onto his hand a little tighter. "Eli, you're not-"

He shook his head, pulling his hands away from yours. "No! Don't. Don't say that! I don't wanna hear this whole 'you're not a freak' talk again I'm so sick of it!"

The way his voice started to crack made your heart sink as you saw that his eyes were starting to water, fresh tears threatening to spill.

"Kyler said something that...that just really got me thinking. Saying that he didn't know how a girl like...like you gave a nerd with a weird lip...lip a chance." Eli swallowed the lump starting in his throat because he was going to start crying rethinking of the conversation.

"He started talking about how much better you could've done. Better like somebody like...like him." He sniffled, his fingers brushing against his scar as he looked everywhere but you when he spoke.

"And then I started to think he was...was right. You could do so much better than some nerd with a freaky l..lip." His voice wobbled as he stared down at his bedsheets.

"Eli. Eli, look at me." While the boy shook his head you reached up to grab the sides of his face, wiping away the tears with your thumbs that were starting to fall down his cheeks.

You sighed, frowning softly. "Look, I don't care what anybody else says, okay? Kyler was wrong because there's no better choice. I mean, is there any other boy at school who would listen to my constant complaining about Mrs.Carter?"

Eli had stayed quiet as you continued. "Would any other boy let me ramble about [f/superhero] and not call me a nerd?"

Silence.

You weren't done though. "Would some jerk like Kyler deal with my long shopping trips and help me carry all my bags around?"

Continuing you had smiled softly up at him. "Oh and I'm one hundred percent sure none of those guys would watch silly chick flicks with me and actually like them."

He shrugged his shoulders and you smiled, pressing your lips against the his cheek in a short yet sweet kiss and he winced, feeling the stickiness from your lipgloss. "And no other boy here is as breathtaking as you."

Your smile grew more as you saw the tips of his ears turning pink and he turned his head away slightly, looking up and away at his ceiling. "[Y/n].."

"I'm serious, Eli. You're so very pretty. I love and adore everything about you."

He avoided eye contact with you, trying to pull his face from your hands but you only hummed while pressing kisses all over his face and leaving shiny kiss marks along it.

"Your eyes alone just make me melt, y'know? I'm real jealous of how your lashes look better than mine." You giggled, placing a kiss right above his brow.

"[Y/n], stop..." He mumbled, his cheeks now being a color that would put any blush set to shame and you shook your head.

"You have a beautiful nose. I love staring at your side profile, it's just perfect." You complimented, kissing the bridge of his nose before your eyes trailed down.

You reached up, tracing your finger along the scar. "And like I've said before I love your scar. I could kiss you a million times and never get grossed out by it.

At that you leaned forward, pressing your lips right against his scar and you could feel his hands squeezing at the bottom of your shirt, fists squeezing tightly around the fabric before you moved down and captured his slightly chapped lips with your own. While you leaned into the kiss you could feel Eli's grip slowly lighten as he leaned into the kiss.

Eli was a burning mess in a the face when you kissed his scar, closing his eyes at the feeling while holding tightly onto your shirt as if you would go anywhere. Feeling you place felt your soft lips on his own partially chapped ones he was like putty in your hands, practically liquefying.

When you pulled away you giggled at the residue of gloss that came from your lips and that was now all over Eli's face and his own lips, smiling as the boy rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip, his shoulders rising and falling while he panted softly.

"So no, there's no boy in this valley I'd rather be with." You confirmed, wrapping your arms and he laid back allowing you to lay your head against his chest, finding a sort of comfort listening to his heartbeat.

You hummed softly, reaching a hand up to play with the tuffs of his hair and the two of you laid there in comfortable silence and you peered up to stare at him to see that he was already staring at you.

"You...You really mean it? All that stuff you said earlier?" He questioned, his voice coming off as a whisper and you lifted your head up.

You sat up on his lap, furrowing your brows at him while staring at him with an incredulous expression. "Do I need to repeat myself? Kisses and all?"

"I...I don't know...I don't think I really got it." Eli gave a sheepish smile, messing with the hem of your shirt."

"Maybe...uhm...a couple more kisses and it might click?" He quietly suggested and stared up at you through his eyelashes, his lips parting a bit.

And how could you say no to such a pretty face like that?

[ashtxrie]

i got you (jake)

PAIR. high school! bf! jake x gn! reader GENRE. hurt/comfort, jake is an academic weapon WORD COUNT. 0.6k WARNINGS. math, anxiety, ap season, academics in general NOTES. ap season is making me lose my mind in every way possible but if jake tutored i bet i would get a 5 IN WHICH: with all hope of an academic comeback gone, jake swears to personally help you clutch up your gradebook, no matter what.

the calculus test stares up at you, the numbers you had written the week before blending into incessant scribbles that pound at your head and sting at your eyes. red marks plague your work and the crimson ink slashes at the harsh white, making the numerals bleed. you flip the exam over, quickly rolling it up into a scroll and stuffing it into your bag.

a 68 percent. you had gotten a 68 on the test that you had calculated and count on to change your grade for the better. you had failed. 

biting your lip, you walk out of the nearly empty classroom, your heart sinking into your gut.  

everything was so much.

from studying for the AP exams coming up in less than two months to frantically memorizing all the polyatomic ion formulas for chemistry-- you were spent. you had thought you had done fine, you had thought that you had this one in the bag.  

obviously not. 

the door to the cafeteria approaches to your left and you walk towards it, feeling sharp jabs in your abdomen from the anxiety. 

“please let it be almost empty,” you whisper, pushing the door open and walking through the clusters of students.

at your usual table, your boyfriend jake sits with his computer, pencil in hand. probably doing the physics bonus problems, for fun— under normal circumstances, you would’ve laughed at him. he sees you in the corner of his peripheral and smiles.  

“hey,” jake scoots to the left of the bench and offers you the seat. his smile falters a bit when he sees your face, your eyes glassy and red. 

“hey,” you mutter, your voice constricted. you were having trouble keeping the tears in and you feared that you would burst at any given moment. you keep your head down and try to avoid his gaze.

jake stares at you, his brown eyes focusing on your bent head and trembling bottom lip.  “hey,” he says again, his voice soothing and soft.  “what’s the matter?”

you had no appetite, but you found yourself walking past the table, toward the lunch line. jake trailed behind you. cautiously, as if you’d run away at any moment. 

his hand grabs onto yours and he pulls on your fingertips lightly.  “[name],” he pushes, his hand warm to the touch.

you shake your head and turn back to face him, your eyes beginning to water. “i– i,” you stammer, your voice shaking and cracking as you struggled to remain calm, “i’m having a really rough day.” your words trigger something inside of yourself and a tear slides it’s way down your face, trickling down your cheek and sliding off your chin onto your shoes. 

you walk towards jake who meets you halfway, his arms wrapping around you tightly. you rest your head in the crook of his neck and let the tears fall from your eyes. your body wracks up and down, unable to control itself. 

jake’s hand moves up and down the small of your back.  “it’s going to be okay,” he says in your ear.

“i got a sixty eight in calc,” you manage, your voice coming out in teary whispers. “it’s so bad... i tried so hard for this. i basically failed.”

jake shakes his head. “no. no [name].” he takes his hand and moves a strand of hair behind your ears. “you are not a failure. tell you what, i’ll help you with math from now on, and we are going to get you a 100 on the next test. sound good?”

you sniff and nod, your head resting on his shoulder. “thank you.”

jake nods and smiles, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “anytime.”

[paingoes]

Destroyer

Medical Conference

hi guys um. i cant stop writing destroyer. i swear ill figure out a system to organize these “bonus” chapters soon i promise i promise

delta is eighteen in this but the chapter delves into abuse he experienced when he was a child so cw for that

(Content: living weapon whumpee, lab whump, medical whump, put on display, dehumanization, conditioning, noncon drugging, needles, non-consensual/nonsexual nudity, noncon touching, physical abuse, emotional whump, angst, child abuse, child death mention, parental whump?)

~

“I forgot, sir,” Delta tried weakly. He knew as soon as he said it that he should’ve just kept quiet.

“No, you didn’t. You’re going to lie about it as well?” Dr.Martino shut down the attempt, focusing his attention back to the device.

Delta laid down unmoving against the steel table as the scanner searched over him. It gave him mild electric shocks each time it passed. Of course, he hadn’t been looking forward to the diagnostic tests. But he hadn’t been trying to get out of it entirely. That wouldn’t have worked. He only wanted more time to psych himself up for it. Too long, apparently. He’d had to be collected for it. It’d been a bad note to start on.

The rest of the exam went on in silence, without anymore mention of his avoidance. As Delta redressed, he thought he might’ve been off the hook for it. Dr.Martino was fumbling though his desk drawers like he’d already left. 

He produced two unopened packs of pencils from inside the desk. Delta deflated a little bit. 

Delta took the pencils and arranged them in two rows along the floor, lined up flush against one another. Gingerly, he kneeled down on top of them.

“Hands behind your back,” the doctor said, leaning back in his chair.

Already there. He knew the drill. He lowered his head, silently counting. No longer than twenty minutes, usually. No fewer than ten.

When he looked up again, Martino was leaning back against the table, flipping through a folder.

“The ISCEM conference is coming up in a month,” he said offhandedly, as if this would mean something to him.

“Okay?” Delta answered, more in confusion than anything else. He hadn’t meant for it to be disrespectful. 

Nevertheless, Dr.Martino’s shoe pressed down against his calf, driving the pencils further into his skin. 

“Yes, sir,” he quickly corrected himself. The pressure disappeared. The pain stayed where it was.

“You were probably too young to remember the last one, weren’t you?” Dr.Martino sighed.

“Yes, sir.” He didn’t really think about it. He was pretty distracted by the numbness traveling down his legs.

“Well, put it on your calendar. Don’t want you forgetting again.”

“Yes, sir.” 

He didn’t have a calendar.

~

“Mention the steady-state thing we discussed. I have files on it, I - is it too late to make a copy? I will. And if you could just please pass along a message for me, I would be ever so grateful,” Simon went on, fumbling through his own briefcase, trying to give what he could. Dr.Martino took the reports from him, flipping them around to see the equations he’d scribbled onto the back.

“You’re not coming? Sir?” Delta added the “sir” on as an afterthought, conscious of the doctor’s presence. Simon himself rarely demanded such formalities.

“Don’t interrupt,” Dr.Martino snapped, more tense than usual. But Simon obliged him, stepping a little closer.

“Not my scene.” Simon patted his head. It was soft, but Delta reflexively flinched away from any hands that drew too near to his face. 

Something on the desk beeped. The transit had rafted up. 

Delta held his wrists up easily as Martino presented the cuffs. They were psychic tech, meant to restrict his powers more than the collar already did. Presumably some kind of safety measure. He felt his world going flat as they clicked into place, all his spatial awareness reduced to a single field of view. The effect was extremely disorienting. He nearly fell over getting off of the table.

~

He’d mostly evened out by the time they’d gotten to the hotel. He sat idly against the chair he’d been placed in, watching the doctor unpack. Everything in the room was the same shade of beige. 

It seemed like they should’ve been able to go. Martino abruptly produce a vial from the bag. Delta recognized it as a sedative. He inserted the syringe into it, drawing it back up.

“I’ll behave, sir,” Delta offered. He eyed the needle warily; he’d usually have been given something in the way of warning.

Martino shook his head. He took a firm grip of Delta’s arm.

“Believe me, this is for your own good.”

Delta tensed his arm up, holding still as the needle entered him. Something cold shot into his veins. It took a long time for the chamber to empty. 

~

It hit him before they even reached the elevator. He clung to Martino’s arm, needing something to brace himself against, however briefly. Martino assured him he wouldn’t have to stand for long. They moved backstage at the panel. Delta nearly collapsed into the fold-up chair.

The cuffs were briefly removed as he was given the medical gown to wear. His hands moved slower than he would’ve liked, but he was able to put it on. It tied along the front, leaving much of his chest exposed.

Dr.Martino took a minute to make sure it was fitted correctly. He cursed, noticing for the first time the visible boot print against the side of Delta’s ribs. 

“Great. They’re going to think I beat you.”

You do beat me, Delta thought. Not as much as he used to. Not as much as Paris. But Martino still hit him. 

The doctor felt over the bruise with his hand, reigniting the pain. Delta winced. It was recent — still tender. The sedative helped a bit. All his thoughts were coming to him in a haze.

There was nothing that could be done to cover it, so apparently they were just going to ignore it. The cuffs came back on around his wrists. He led Delta out onto the platform regardless, sitting him up against the stool. It was had a back to it, luckily. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stay upright without it. He’d been trained enough not to slouch or to look so outwardly high, but it was definitely a struggle to maintain neutrality. He kept his head down. It was the safest, the easiest to maintain for a long period. People gradually filed in. Though he was used to being put on display, the sterility and lack of decorum in this new space made the whole thing feel all the more jarring. It all felt far away, though.

His eyes closed without meaning to. When he tuned back in, Dr.Martino was droning on. He recognized some of the words. He would’ve recognized more if he wasn’t drugged. It was a talk about internal power generation. Conduits. There was a hand on his shoulder. Delta stood up from the chair. The gown was pulled down a bit from his shoulders.

Martino pressed the multimeter to his collarbones, watching the number climb until it broke. He pulled it away before it could burn up completely. He pressed a thin disk up against Delta’s chest, where it held there. It was some kind of controller. A thin arc of electricity emerged from it without any conscious intention on his part. More appeared, each of them branching away from his body like a plasma ball. The effect was immediate; that familiar fear crept into the eyes of the audience. 

It cut all at once. The disk was removed. Delta sat back down on the chair, pulling the gown back up over himself. 

The lights darkened. Behind him, a clip show began to play. He didn’t need to look back. He’d seen it plenty of times. Different explosions, annihilations, destructions. All his own work. He could recount each of them to the second. It played for a long time.

For some reason, they clapped when it was over.

~

“Sorry — do you mind if I look at it?” 

Delta opened his eyes again, sensing the it in question. He tensed up. 

He hated being touched. The moderator stripped the gown back again. He felt the electric pulse still going about Delta’s clavicle. His hands traveled around the collar. 

“I’m biomedical by trade,” the man explained, tapping at the gold, “This is custom, yes? When was it made?”

“The model’s about five years old. It gets updated about once a year.”

“Incredible. I see some scarring, though.”

Delta shivered as the fingers traced the burn scars by his neck, a bit on his trapezius. They were in the shape of a Lichtenberg figure.

“That seems non-optimal?”

“Those actually predate the collar. They’re a natural result of it overextending itself during an exercise. The restrictor works as a stopgap to prevent that kind of burnout.”

Though he’d expected it, it still jarred Delta just how easily Martino slipped back into calling him it.

Another scientist approached. She slid up to Martino, shaking his hand eagerly.

“Oh, darling.” He embraced her. She grinned, readjusting her jacket as they pulled away.

“Danny, it’s been ages. How are the girls?” Her nails clicked together.

Danny. The girls. Martino actually had a family. Not that he ever saw them. He had daughters. They’d been kids, the one and only time Delta had ever met them. They had to be in their twenties by now. 

“Brats, the lot of them. They’re smart, though. Smarter than I was at their age.”

“Well, that’s not saying much.”

Delta was not surprised when her hands traveled onto him. He barely flinched this time. But he hadn’t expected her to speak to him.

“Oh, and look at you. You’re all grown up now, huh?” 

She gripped his chin in between her fingers, studying his face. The touch wasn’t harsh, nor was it gentle.

“You probably don’t remember me.”

That was correct. Her face was vaguely familiar, but he could find no memories to attach to it.

“He’s a bit distant at the moment. You’ll have to forgive him,” Martino answered for him.

She released her grip, turning her attention back to the doctor. Even in his current state, it didn’t take him long to put it together. She’d been one of the teachers at the Institute. He wondered how many of them were wandering around out there now. Most of them. Dr.Martino had been the only one to retain some semblance of his position. All the other administrators had been cast away just the same as the students.

He had forgotten nearly every one of their names.

~

Martino packed up the last of the day’s display materials, arranging all of it back into the suitcase. It’d been a success, as far as these things go. He’d revealed all he could without breaching the terms of his contract. All the real science was under a strict NDA. It was nice to catch up with some colleagues, though. It was healthy to be off of a spaceship every once in a while.

He tugged Delta’s sleeve, pulling him up from the plastic chair. He took a minute to undo the cuffs; he’d thought they were an excessive measure to begin with and they had prevented any real show of power. Delta rubbed idly at the marks they had left there.

They made their way back up to the hotel room. The drug had not yet worn off; Delta still stumbled a bit when he walked. He’d redressed himself in a thick hoodie, trying to keep out the chill from the overactive AC or perhaps just trying to hide. 

The door opened. Martino dropped his suitcase onto the bed. Presumably out of habit, Delta lowered himself to the floor, kneeling there. Waiting for instructions, as if he could have followed them. Martino scoffed. 

“You can sit on the bed. I booked a double room for a reason.”

He watched the whole minute it took for his words to sink in. The way it took even longer for Delta to actually rise, blearily climbing up onto the mattress. His hands gripped searchingly across the blanket, pulling up the edges like he needed something to hold onto.

Martino ignored him. He moved to the far side of the room and opened the door to the balcony. The city skyline was clearly visible just down the road. The lights from it shone brighter than the stars from space. Martino produced one of the foreign cigarettes from its packet. The ember burned in the dark night. It was all quiet.

“What was I like when I was little?”

He turned to look at Delta. The kid was drugged out of his mind. He might’ve given him too much.

Dr.Martino took a long drag. He rarely smoked, so used to the endless sterility that he would not so much as dirty the air. But tonight was a rare night.

“What were you like?” He ashed the cigarette, turning back to look at the night skyline. “I don’t remember.”

Delta looked down, disappointed. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself. Martino sighed, losing the battle.

“…You were quiet. Same as you are now. You mostly kept to yourself.”

He gave no visible reaction.

“You didn’t get along so well with the other kids,” Martino admitted, some disdain entering his voice. 

Delta looked up. His expression was totally blank.

“Why do you hate me?” he asked.

It was manipulative, and self-pitying in a way that did not flatter him. Martino put the cigarette out. He stepped back into the room.

Delta shrank back a bit. The doctor looked him over. His eyes had dimmed some, no doubt due to the sedative. His hands were unbloodied. Just looking at him, no one would have know what he’d done. Martino remembered the sound of bones snapping and the bodies out in the yard. He remembered the expression Delta had worn the first time he’d killed — as blank and unfeeling as the one he wore now. He did hate him, he supposed. He’d never been his favorite. All his favorites had been buried a long time ago.

He didn’t say that. He remembered his lines — and he cursed himself for ever diverging from them, even for a second. He would correct it now.

“There is no you.”

Delta opened his mouth as if to object, then thought better of it. Good.

“No more talking tonight,” Martino said.

Delta nodded, laying down onto the mattress. He fell asleep with all the lights on.

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @pigeonwhumps

[lanaaa-14]

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.

Basically, u and Ethan have been dating for a while, and r currently studying for a test in Econ and he’s finally ready to lose his v-card. ;)

Warnings: kissing, cuddling, unprotected sex, oral ( f and m receiving and giving), dom! reader, sub! Ethan, experienced! reader, virgin! Ethan, I think that’s it idk.

———————————————————————

“Ethan.” Y/n whined, he wouldn’t stop goofing around while you too were studying for a major test in Econ. “I’m sorry, it’s just so easy to make you mad.” He laughed while the annoyed girl in front of him rubbed her temples. “Haha so funny. We actually need to study though. I cannot handle another bad grade in there.” She said, giving him a serious look. “How about we take a break? We’ve been studying for the past three hours and I can’t even focus anymore.” He complained, throwing his pencil down. “Fine as long as I get to pick a movie for us. I’m tired of watching stab 1 over and over again when you pick.” She giggled as they both closed their textbooks and went to Ethan’s room. “Cmon! You know you love stab!” He smiled as you both collapsed on his bed. “Whatever. I’m putting on a romcom.” He fake gagged at her choice in movies.

After a while, the couple was under the blankets and Ethan was cuddled into y/n’s chest. She was playing with his curls and every now and then, giggling at the movie. Ethan slowly moved his hand from around her waist, and started to move it up her hoodie. She gave him a look that he didn’t see, but honestly just ignored his movements. That was until his cold fingers brushed her bra covered breast. “Ethan?” She asked, not really knowing what he was doing. She already knew he was a virgin before they started dating, so she usually made the first move. Not him. She would kiss him and hug him but every time she touched any skin that was under clothing, he would freak the fuck out. But here he was, his slim fingers getting very close to her bare breasts. “Y/n, I think I’m ready.” He whispered. She immediately knew what he meant. “Are you sure?” She asked. She couldn’t lie, she’d been waiting for this moment for months.

“I’m extremely sure.” He responded, finally reaching his hand up all the way and massaging her left boob. She whimpered in response and quickly placed her lips on his. He didn’t really know what to do, so he just followed her movements and continued kissing her. After a while, she knew he needed some guidance. “Touch me, Ethan.” She moaned against his lips. “Can you help me? I want to make you feel good.” He asked. She nodded her head as she examined his face. He still looked so innocent as if his fingers weren’t brushing the elastic band of her panties. Before he actually touched her, he seemed to have changed his mind as he removed his hand and pulled down her sweatpants. “I wanna try something. Tell me if you want me to stop.” He said as he slowly removed her panties. He gave her a look, asking her for consent and she quickly nodded. “Wow. Your so fucking beautiful.” He spoke softly as he leaned down, his breath hitting her clit. He placed his thumb on a little ball shaped thing that he assumed was the clit.

He knew he was right based on how her back arched. He nearly came at the sight of his pretty girlfriend laid out like this. He’d always imagined doing this but never thought it would become real. He slowly licked through her folds and watched her reaction thoroughly. She moaned loudly, so he continued to lick up and down. “You taste so good.” He smiled against her pussy. He had his arms wrapped around her thighs, practically digging in. She began to grind her hips in an upward motion, trying to get as much pleasure as she could. He placed a hand on her lower abdomen, pushing her down. He used his other hand to finger her. After adding two finger, she was already a moaning mess. “Go faster!” She begged as she gripped his curly hair tight. He curled his fingers in her and that was the last straw. “Fuck! Ethan!” She screamed as she came on his face. He continued to eat her out, making sure she was able to finish her high. She was laid out on the bed, breathing heavily. “Who would’ve guessed Ethan Landry was so good at eating pussy?” She laughed as she looked at the pretty boy that was still between her legs. “Who would’ve guessed y/n l/n would taste so good?” He teased, making her roll her eyes in response.

“Since you were so good… I’ll help you out too.” She said as she eyed his obvious boner in his khakis. “Sit.” She demanded, patting the space beside her. He quickly crawled on the bed and sat down. She crawled onto his lap and began kissing him. It was soft and passionate, almost like a thank you for making her cum. “Can I?” She asked, placing her hands on his belt buckle. “Please.” He begged, his body aching from having a boner for so long. She unbuckled his belt and he lifted his body up so she could pull his pants down to his knees. She slowly pulled down his grey boxers and admired the sight in front of her. It was her first time seeing Ethan’s dick. They’d been dating a year but Ethan was so insecure about being a virgin he never did anything with you and you never did anything to him. For fucks sake, she even sent him an ass pic once and he sent a heart eyes emoji back. His dick was big, bout 7 inches; pretty decent width. The tip was a light pink that matched the blush on his cheeks perfectly. He definitely shaved before she came to study, he for sure planned this. She placed her hand on his cock and began to stroke up and down at a medium pace.

She admired his facial expression’s knowing that she was the only one who’s ever seen him this vulnerable. His eyes widened at her touch, and his mouth was slightly parted as he breathed slowly. She noticed how instead of grunts like men usually do in bed, Ethan whimpered. Like, a lot. It turned her on so she didn’t really mind. Hearing Ethan whimper her name was the best thing she’d ever heard. “If your already moaning like that because of my hand, wait till I put my mouth on it.” She whispered in his ear, making him thrust into her hands without realizing. Before going down, she tugged on his shirt signaling for him to remove it. She removed her hand from his cock to do the same. She even unclipped her bra and threw it to the ground. She bent down and kissed the tip, before swallowing his dick whole. She had never heard any man moan the way Ethan just did. She bobbed her head up and down his cock, while fisting his lower penis with her left hand. Her other hand was holding his hand. It was his first time so she still wanted to make him feel comfortable. She knew it felt good by the way he was squeezing her hand. “Wait!” He whimpered. She removed her mouth and looked at him with a concerned face. “Did I hurt you on accident?” She asked, rubbing her thumb on his cheek. “I want to… you know. Actually feel you.” He refused to make eye contact while talking. She smiled at his actions. “Of course baby. I know what you mean. Do you want me to be in control or you?” She asked him, placing a quick peck to his lips. “Is it okay if you lead?” He asked, finally looking at her. “Yeah I’m okay with that. Also Ethan, since it’s your first time you might cum before me or super early. But I don’t want you to be embarrassed about it because it’s completely normal.” She let him know.

“I know. I’ll try to make you finish before me and if I don’t I’ll just eat you out again.” He smirked, making the girl let out a small giggle. She aliened herself with his dick. “You ready?” She asked. “Yes.” He responded. She slowly lowered herself and could feel him starting to fill her up. “God Ethan.” She moaned as she sat down all the way. “Your so ahh! Tight.” He grunted. Y/n began grinding her hips and savoring every moan that came from his lips. He looked so pretty like this. Curls wet from sweat sticking to his forehead, his eyes glossy, his doe eyes begging for more, and his soft pink lips that were releasing his soft whimpers. His hands found there way to her hips and began helping her go up and down. She continued to bounce up and down as Ethan whimpered like crazy. He reached a hand down to rub her clit. He could feel his climax coming so he tried to make hers come at the same time. “Your so wet.” He moaned as he rubbed his fingers on her clit. “Only for you, baby.” She whispered in his ear. This sent him over the edge. He rubbed her clit as fast as he could and even was humping into her. They both were moaning nonstop, both feeling their climax coming. “Agh! Y/n!” He yelled as he came inside her pussy. The feeling of his warm seed filling her up made her cum.

She continued to ride him until she felt overstimulation. She moaned one last time, and collapsed beside him. “Fuck.” Is all she could get out as she breathed heavily. “Shit I’ll be right back.” Ethan said as he left the room. Y/n was extremely confused, but then understood when she saw him come back with a juice box and a rag. “Here you go.” He said, handing her the juice. He spread her legs with his hands and then cleaned the leaking cum from her pussy. He put the rag on the side table and pulled the cover over the both of them. “You did so good baby.” She praised, running a hand through his curls. “You did too. I never knew that someone’s mouth could feel so good.” He grinned making the girl chuckle. “I never knew a virgin could be so good in bed.” She joked as she traced her fingers along his chest. “What can I say? I’m just great like that. And, Chad can’t make fun of me for being a virgin anymore so it’s a win win.” Ethan smirked, making the girl beside him laugh.

—————————————————

Finally fucking finished this omggg. School is kicking my ass rn with all these damn assignments as if we don’t get out in 2 weeks… anyway, this was my first time writing a one shot smut soooo hope u liked it ! Also sorry if it’s a bit short, I’m an amateur writer. Have a great day lovely!

lana xo

[forthelostones]

♡ black female reader x ellie williams (part one) ♡

synopsis: ellie is your TA for your english lecture at university and she pulls you aside for revision.

warnings. 18+ (mdni); switch!reader x switch!ellie, teasing, fingering, female cunnilingus, degradation, small boob appreciation, and n!pple play.

an: hi everyone! this is my first idek what this is called when i was coming up "one shot".... (is that even a thing anymore?). i am super nervous about this! but please enjoy x.

wc: 2.2k

PART TWO

It was the last few months at university and you were getting entirely tired of your English lecture. Your professor talked slowly, and quietly, and pointed out the obvious connections within the simple texts. You felt as if you were far too advanced for this 300-level college course. You answered all the questions, understood what the “deep” metaphors were, and made A’s on every paper. The only thing that kept you interested was the TA who graded all those papers. Ellie Williams was a senior English major with a specialty in Print Media. You heard stories about her, glanced at her from a distance, and saw her around but you could never gain the courage to speak to her outside of class. 

She sat in the corner, near the lecture podium, with her auburn hair pulled back, and a pencil tucked behind her ear as she looked out onto the hall. She sat slouched with her legs spread open, one foot taping the ground slowly, and the occasional eye roll at a stupid question. 

As you sat listening to the room share their perspectives on a Shakespearean text, you took quick glances at her over the corner of your laptop. Today she was wearing a loose, red, long-sleeve shirt, exposing her forearms. Her right arm was adorned with faded black ink that traveled all the way up her shoulder. The warmth that traveled to your cheeks fell between your thighs, as your eyes focused on her fingers that were now swirling that same pencil in a rhythmic motion. 

“Have a great weekend.” Your professor nearly shouted startling you. 

Your chest caved-in and your eyes bugged outward, you felt a nick of embarrassment hoping no one saw your body jolt. You close your laptop and see Ellie crack a smirk as she walks over to you. 

What could she want, you think. 

“Sorry y/n, I couldn’t get around to emailing you last night, but Professor said I should help you with your upcoming essay.”

Her low voice echoed in the now empty hall. 

“Oh? Really? Sure. I thought my draft was pretty good but—”

“It’s not that you’re being singled out, I have to work with everyone on theirs.” She interjected.

That knot of embarrassment in your chest tightened as you saw no sincerity in her sage eyes. 

“It’s last minute but it won’t take long. We can go to the office and work on it a little or we can reschedule, up to you.” She shrugged.

You pause in an attempt to act like you’re thinking. It’s Friday night, you should have something to do, but you don’t. “Sure. Let’s do it.” 

You gather all your things and follow behind her into your professor's office, just across the hall. In front of you were the large floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the crowded quad lawn. Students soaking up the sun and lying in the grass chatting with their friends. The other walls were covered in bookshelves with every academic book you could ever imagine. She sat her bag down and pulled out your pristine rough draft, which was now slightly crumbled. 

“Hm,” slipped out. 

“What?” She asked smugly. 

“It’s just my paper was kind of thrown into your bag like… shit.” 

“Oh, sorry.” She says attempting to smooth it out by placing it on her chest and using her palms. 

She sat next to you in the large armed chair, her knees practically touching yours through her black jeans. Electricity sparked as you came in slight contact with her body. Her hands adjusted to the corners of your paper, her fingers fiddling between each page, spreading them open and moving up and down. You noticed all the notes and corrections she made, the red pen she used scribbled out sentences, rewrote phrases, and small notes on the margins like ‘too wordy’.  

“Are you sure this is my paper?” You asked, snatching it from beneath her hands. 

“Read it. Y/N, How Shakespeare Altered The English Language.” She read. 

“You scribbled out my title too?”

Your hands became damp with nervous anger. You were top of your class, your professors adore your writing and now a TA just a year above tells you how you’re falling short. 

“It was boring.” She said plainly.

“Simple language is good. It’s easier for people like you to understand.” 

You face her and notice how defined her freckles are. How full her lips are and you unfurl your eyebrows as you realize how close you are to her face. 

She snorted. “People like me? You mean the person who grades your shitty papers every other week? Who can absolutely give you any grade I want, that person?” 

You stutter in an attempt to get words out, but you know she’s right. She could tank your grades if she wanted to. Her face turns upwards in a challenge. 

“So now my papers are shitty? They’re shitty now?” 

Your two bodies are now completely turned towards each other, knees touching, and eyes locked. The air becomes thick when she doesn’t reply. Adrenaline rushes to your head quickly, as someone who regularly avoids conflicts this feeling is overwhelming. 

“If you read the notes… maybe you would understand. Clearly you don’t have the capacity to even do that.” She smiled. 

She thought this was funny, seeing you flustered, in a hard spot where you couldn’t comprehend why you were being judged so harshly. 

“I want so see everyone else’s papers.” You asked. 

“What?” 

“I want to see how much editing you did to others.”  

You stand up and grab her bag and run your hands through it, before you could pull anything out, she jumps up and grasps your wrist with surprising strength. Your heart beats violently as her she pulls your hand away from the fabric of her bag. As she shoves you away, the junk falls out onto the floor. 

“Really?” She muttered and stuffed her items back inside. 

She gave you her signature eye roll and huffed as she ‘reorganized’ her stuff. As she stood up she walks towards you without saying a word. Her eye contact burnt you as they became low with anger. 

“Ellie.” You sigh. 

You feared that she’d use her strength against you.

“Y/N, there are no other papers,” She smirked. “For someone so smart you can be so dumb.” 

Your breath caught in your throat as you heard her words. You peered over her shoulder, quickly observing the bright windows, afraid to be seen. 

Her fingertips wrap around your waist softly, pulling your closer to her hips. Your lips pursed tightly together as you fought to speak. 

“So you lied to get me alone?” You asked. 

“Can you keep up?” She tugged at you a little more. Naturally, your body resists her touch, but you became so wet at her criticism of your intelligence. 

“I can.” You reply sorely. 

Her hand slowly rises up your back, tracing your spine. 

“The thing is, you always leave class so fast. Rushing out. I never could catch you even if I tried.”  

Her fingers do a dance under your shirt and the coolness of them startles you. Then bring her palms down to your ass, which made you moan, surprising the both of you. 

“What can I say, I’m busy.” You lie. 

You spent your nights in your apartment reading and watching the same movies. Sometimes you’d think of Ellie and recall her face from class if she saw you laying in bed, practically naked. 

“Busy? I don’t know if I believe that.” She challenged with a grin. 

She unclipped your bra skillfully with one hand. You gasped at the release of tension, you pushed your pelvis against hers, you were so close you felt her chest rise and fall. 

“What’s not to believe? I’m top of my class, President of—“ 

“Don’t care,” She interrupted. 

Her lips came one inch from yours and all you could feel is her breath graze your lips. Her eyes jolt down to the valley of your cupids bow, which made her swipe her lips with her tongue.  

“I love your lips Y/N.” 

“Why don’t you taste them then?” 

She leaned closer but did not come in contact, her hands rubbed up towards your loosened bra and came in contact with your hard, brown nipples. She circled around them gently. 

“And give you the satisfaction after you insulted my intelligence?” She grimaced. 

You pushed her away and clipped your bra back and headed towards the desk to grab your things. She looked surprised as you gather yourself to head for the door. As you bent over the chair, she came behind you and thrust herself onto you. That tattooed hand slithered up your body, to your throat, and pulled you back into her body. 

“Do act so coy Y/N. The way you stare at me when I spread my legs open, when my fingers glide against papers, and when I show my arms you can’t help but stare.” 

Her hand travels to your pants, undos your button, and dips her fingers into your soaked panties. You gasp at the firmness of her calloused fingertips. You push your ass into her hips and feel her pelvis brush against you, she likes to feel you from this angle. 

“So?” You fought to say through moans. 

“So, fuck me Y/N. Why do you have to be so stuck up?” 

Her fingers traced your slit, plunging deeper into the slick she was responsible for. She pulled her hands out, dripping with your desire, and she raised them to your lips. She took her other hand and grabbed your jaw gently causing your mouth to open. She slipped her fingers in your mouth making you taste yourself. You wrapped your tongue around her thick fingers, unafraid of anyone who could see inside, you felt pure ecstasy of hearing her moans as you fulfilled her fantasy. 

You turned around to face her and finally kissed her. Her lips were soft with lust and her tongue slipped quickly into your mouth. She pushed your back into the desk, gripping your thighs to hoist you up on top, her strength shocked you. She wrapped her hands around your hips and pulled you deeper into her mouth. Your hands naturally fell around her waist and unbuckled her belt and desperately reached for her core. 

She pulled her shirt up to reveal her bare chest. You always noticed her perky nipples, wondering about her crude disposition against bras, you weren’t complaining though. She forced a nipple in your mouth and commanded you to suck. She grabs the back of your head and pulls you in more. They were the perfect size, smaller, but perfect to suck hands-free. She restrained her moans as your teeth wrapped around her flesh. You can tell she never could give up being in control, the stories confirm that. Always on top, always servicing others, so your image of her was different than the view here. 

“What if someone sees?” You ask nervously. 

“Windows are shaded from the outside.” She said as she used her arm to clean the desk. 

She pushed you back and began to lay warm kisses on your belly. You tuck your hands in her scalp when she gripped your wrist and slams it into the desk. You groan in pain but it excites you. 

Her fingers hook into the loops of your jeans and pulls them down. Her hand palms your warm panties and brushes upwards, you try not to show how much you need her, but she presses harder. 

“Say it.” She probes. 

“What? That I want you?” You ask. 

“Say it.” 

You don’t reply and she pulls your panties off aggressively and brings her lips to yours. She starts kissing your pussy so passionately you imagine you could cum from that. 

She lifts her head, “Watch me.” 

The tip of her tongue and dipped it into your crease, searching for your clit. Once she finds it, she takes her fingers and spreads you wide open. Her tongue enters inside of you and your back arches into her. Your body waves up and down from desperation, you know she posses more than she’s leading on. She gets a good rhythm going and feels you dripping down her chin, she stops. Leaving your body twitching from frustration. 

You stood up dripping, reaching for her. 

“Y/N, say you need me.” She commanded as she was reaching to slip her shirt back on. 

“I need you Ellie.” You break. 

You dropped to your knees tugging at the waistline of her jeans, pulling them down with her underwear. She was drenched too, so turned on from touching you. You dug your face into her wetness, your tongue meeting her delicious taste, sweet and warm, sliding down your throat. You bring your middle and ring finger to her entrance and she sighs out of pure passion. As you entered her, you felt her fingers gripping your shoulder, and her grunts tickled your brain. You arched your fingers inside of her and worked your tongue around her clit in circles. 

“Fuck.” She moaned. 

Her panting got deeper, faster, and her nails pinched into your skin. You sucked at her clit to bring her to a climax. As you pulled your fingers out her stickiness strung from her core and straight into your mouth. 

[zaebeecee]

To Sever A Loveless Bond

••RadioDust Soulmate AU••

Part 23/?

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter

Read on AO3

•••

Y’all ready for a resolution? Well, that’s too bad.

We’re at the “character talks about emotional shit with everyone except the person they should be talking about emotional shit with” arc of any romance story. Don’t worry, Alastor’s gonna get this treatment too. (Also, all backstory in this story is a product of headcanon, so it might contradict canon but I don’t really care)

•••

The month after VoxTek: Angel’s POV ••

• Week One

Angel felt the gentle thunk of the door closing through the metal handle, and with it, he felt as though something inside him had been irrevocably severed. A sort of numbness unlike anything he had ever felt before settled over him like a weighted blanket, stifling and painful without reaching the satisfying threshold of truly masochistic suffocation.

Immediately, Angel wanted to turn around, storm back into Alastor’s room, and tear him a new asshole for thinking he could be so dismissive of Angel after… after everything that had happened. Alastor would deserve it, Angel would feel good about it, and if Alastor got mad and then got violent, all the better, because it would be so much easier to be pissed at Alastor for breaking his bones than it was to be pissed at him for…

doing what we agreed on?

And that was precisely why Angel released the door handle and began walking back down the hallway. This had been the plan from the start after all, hadn’t it? It wasn’t Alastor’s fault that Angel, in his infinite capacity to fuck everything up, had decided to catch real feelings for what might have been the first time ever and felt like he could die at the prospect of never even being able to touch him again. But that was completely selfish, Angel knew that, and he had agreed to the temporary arrangement. After all, if Alastor hadn’t left Rosie’s in the first place, it would have been broken days ago, right?

Halfway down the hall, Angel heard the distant click of Alastor’s door locking again, and the spider had to resist the nearly overwhelming urge to physically hunch in on himself. Instead, he just kept walking, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to just spend another full week in bed.

“Angel? Are you okay?”

The spider came to a stop and raised his head, blinking a few times as he realized he was only three feet away from the check in desk where Charlie and Vaggie were in the middle of designing another new flyer for the hotel (in colored pencil and marker instead of crayon this time, which was at the very least an improvement). Charlie was looking right at him, her eyes wide and concerned, while Vaggie was still bent over the paper as though working but completely unmoving, giving away how closely she was paying attention. Husk, on the other side of the lobby, wasn’t even trying to disguise his own pointed stare.

Fuck.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Angel said, automatically slipping into his masking voice and waving Charlie’s concern off. “Just checkin’ in on the boogieman back there, s’all. I’m goin’ back to my room now.”

“Angel, wait…!”

But Angel didn’t wait, ignoring Charlie’s words as he took the stairs three at a time and vanished as quickly as he could down the hallway. He didn’t slow down until he was back in his room with the door securely closed and locked, and then he stood there, looking the place over and trying to think only of how to best set up a little cam studio in his space.

I already knew I was starting over. I guess this is just another thing to restart. Not a big deal. It’ll be fine.

I’m fine.

•••

• Week Two

The next week passed with little fanfare or activity. Though Angel was up and out of bed, he found he got winded easily, limiting the amount of time he was able to walk around before he needed to find somewhere to sit. Most days, he would hang out in the lobby for a while before Alastor invariably showed up to ask Charlie something or dictate a request to Husk and Niffty. Whenever that happened, Angel either retreated to his room, went into the back garden, or both if the weather was nice enough to let Fat Nuggets run around outside for a bit.

It was as though everything had changed, somehow, even if Angel knew logically that not much had. He and Alastor had only been fucking around for a month, so that stopping wasn’t really a change so much as just a return to normal. But they still had the same residents, the same team building exercises, the same bouts of utter boredom… the only thing that had really changed was that Angel had quit his job and gotten a new one.

Well, Niffty had started leaving the hotel more often. That one was new, and Angel still didn’t know what to think of it, because the one time he asked her what she’d been up to, she’d simply giggled and run away.

The point was that even though everything was essentially the same, it all felt different. He couldn’t decide if it was the air in the hotel, or something about everyone else, or maybe something about him… whatever it was, it was the kind of nebulous sensation that made his skin itch from an inability to fix it. He wondered if part of it was the fact that he could tell Charlie wanted to ask if he was okay every time she laid eyes on him, and the fact that she had restrained herself so far wasn’t much comfort when she stared at him whenever they were in the same room. But why wouldn’t he be fine? He hadn’t even cried.

Not since that night, anyway. And he wasn’t going to cry over Alastor anymore. It was a waste of time.

The cam work was already going promisingly well. Angel had a decently large following on his socials—it had been an enormous boost to his ego when he started seeing that he was getting followers from other Rings, too—and since he had already announced that he’d quit at VoxTek after beating Valentino up with a monitor and breaking Vox’s face (and wasn’t posting that nugget of gossip just… so freeing), it had only taken a suggestive post and a link drop to get new subscribers to start rolling in.

At this rate, he thought, he’d soon be making more for himself than he’d ever made through Val. When he’d been employed at VoxTek, he’d never been allowed to keep his own money; rather, as his contract dictated, all of his money was ‘kept safe for him’ by Valentino, who paid him an allowance each week. The amount was subject to Valentino’s whims, and it hadn’t been unusual for Angel to go months without seeing a cent of it. That was different now too, though, wasn’t it? He would actually be able to start saving money. He could even get his own fucking place, if he really wanted to.

…did he want to do that?

When the weekend rolled around, Angel felt good enough to get out for a while, so he dolled himself up and promised Charlie he’d be back later before heading out of the hotel. At first, he didn’t have a destination in mind—he could go shopping, he could go to a club, he could go get laid—but after a bit of thought…

Gonna need to highjack a car.

Ten minutes later, Angel was driving out of Pentagram City and taking the road the short distance to Zahhak, the largest satellite they had out towards the west. Colloquially known as Imp City to most Sinners, Zahhak was an entirely (as far as Angel knew) Hellborn city that was mostly populated by those who worked either for or with Sinners. While Sinners were only confined to the Pride Ring, not to Pentagram City itself, they still never tended to branch out past the city’s outer limits if they could help it, meaning that their population in other parts of the Ring was almost zero. It was partially due to the fact that humans tended to stick together even when they hated each other, but Angel suspected it was because Sinners really didn’t get along with the rest of Hell. Hellborn had apparently never had a high opinion of Sinners, nor Sinners of Hellborn; to the Hellborn, Sinners were a bunch of infiltrators invading their home, and to Sinners, the Hellborn were a bunch of gross and unpredictable monsters that would slice you up as soon as look at you. Angel, though, had never really had much of an issue with Hellborn. He’d worked with them before, primarily Verosika Mayday, and he never had any more problems with them than he did with any given Sinner.

It took a bit for Angel to find his destination, unfamiliar with Zahhak as he was, but he soon pulled into a lot with a familiar van parked terribly, somehow taking up four spaces at a diagonal. Angel snorted under his breath and headed into the building, putting his sunglasses on top of his head as he made his way up the stairs. It looked like a bunch of the other spaces for rent were unoccupied, and Angel passed by several open doors that led to dark and empty rooms before he found his destination.

The only door with light visibly on led to a cute, if somewhat eclectic, waiting room with some mismatched furniture, a tank with two electric eels, and a receptionist’s desk positioned in a way that suggested it was put there so the receptionist couldn’t pretend she didn’t see clients come in. Even so, the girl didn’t look up, her feet kicked up on the desk and her eyes on her phone.

Angel tilted his head before walking over and putting two of his hands on his hips, staring down at the hellhound girl and just waiting for her to acknowledge him. Eventually, she sighed, letting her hand fall into her lap. “Yeah, yeah, welcome to IMP, the fuck do you want—”.

Her words trailed off into a whine as she looked up at Angel, her eyes going wide and her ears flattening back against her head. Angel smiled at her. “Hi,” he said. She didn’t speak. “You’re… Loona, right?” She nodded. “Your dad back there?” She nodded. “You gonna say somethin’?” She shook her head.

The door to the back office opened. “Hey, Loona, have you seen— oh.” Angel looked over and saw a young male imp, who was now staring up at him as well. “…crumbs.”

Angel snorted. “Will both of you chill the fuck out? I ain’t here to shoot you or nothin’.”

“You wouldn’t be the first one who did,” the imp, who Angel was pretty sure was called Moxxie, said. “Can… um, can I help you with something?”

“I dunno,” Angel said honestly, resisting the urge to fold his arms. “Guess I just wanted to come thank you and your boss.”

Moxxie opened his mouth before a voice shouted at him. “Moxxie, for fuck’s sake, has Loonie seen it or not??”

“Uh, sorry, Blitzø, but Angel Dust is out here.”

“OH FUCK YES.”

“Ow!! Dammit, Blitzø, you fuckin’ train wreck!!”

Angel listened to sounds of clambering and crashing, like someone was vaulting inelegantly over a cluttered desk, before the same imp he had seen after leaving Rosie’s barreled through the doorway and shoved Moxxie out of the way.

Angel covered his mouth with his hand, laughing at the way Moxxie protested his treatment. “I’m guessin’ you’re Blitzø, huh?”

“I’m honored a famous porn star knows my name,” Blitzø said with a sly grin. Angel’s smirk widened as another imp, who must have been Millie, came out of the office as well. “Since you haven’t pulled a gun on us, I’m guessing you aren’t here to kill us?” Blitzø guessed.

“Nope. If I was, you’d know.”

“Well, that’s good to know, at least. So… what can we do for you?”

Angel finally did cross his arms, drumming his fingers against the skin above his elbow as he thought. “…I dunno, really. Guess I just thought I’d drop by to thank you. You guys had some kinda hand in gettin’ my contract broken, right?”

Blitzø raised his hands. “I just took it to a guy who found a loophole.”

Millie smacked him on the arm. “Don’t be all modest,” she chided with a smile before looking up at Angel. “Don’t you worry ‘bout it none. Helpin’ out really was the least we could do after everythin’ we put you through.”

“Oh, hey, don’t worry about that. Vox woulda pulled the same kinda bullshit if he hadn’t hired the three of you,” Angel said. “And you got money, yeah? So no hard feelings.”

Moxxie was looking at him a bit critically. “…I know this isn’t my business, Mister… um…”

“Just call me Angel Dust, baby.”

“A-Angel Dust,” Moxxie said, his facial expression unchanging even as his cheeks began turning a noticeable shade of purple beneath the red. “I just wanted— are you okay? Both you and Alastor were in a pretty bad state when Charlie brought you in.”

Angel could feel the way his smile changed. “…I’m okay. Healin’ up just fine. Sinner and all.”

Moxxie nodded. “And Alastor? Charlie said… his arm…?”

Angel shrugged. “I… dunno, honestly. We ain’t spoken in about a week. You’d have to ask him if you wanna know details.”

“Wait, what?” Millie asked. “You ain’t— a week?! The fuck’s that about??”

“Millie, it’s not our business,” Moxxie said.

“Considering Alastor nearly killed me over all this, I feel it’s totally our business if he’s on his bullshit,” Blitzø countered. “And I know a man on his bullshit when I hear about it.”

“Fuck’s sake, everybody’s so worked up over this shit,” Angel groaned, looking up towards the ceiling. But… it couldn’t possibly hurt to tell them about it, right? They didn’t even live in the same city, and they were Hellborn. Besides, they already knew so many icky little details… what was one more?

And if I don’t tell someone soon, I’m gonna go nuts.

“He… got his arm torn off,” Angel said; it wasn’t any easier to say that out loud now than it was the first time he tried. “Had his mark on it. Guess he figures the whole thing’s over now, since it’s gone.”

Angel wasn’t sure what kind of response he expected to that, but it wasn’t what he got; Blitzø raised his hand to cover the side of his neck, almost like a reflex, while Moxxie looked almost incomparably sad suddenly. Millie, however, was slowly starting to look absolutely furious. “Oh, the fuck he did,” she said.

Angel raised an eyebrow at her. “What?”

Millie didn’t answer him, simply held her arm out across Blitzø to hold her open palm in front of Moxxie. “Moxxie. Keys.”

“Millie, honey—”

“Keys, Moxxie, don’t make me hotwire our car again.” Moxxie cursed under his breath and fished out a ring of keys, putting them in her palm. “Back in a bit,” Millie said, storming out of the office and slamming the door behind her.

Angel stared after her, blinking a few times. “…was it somethin’ I said?”

Moxxie sighed. “No, it… it’s just…” He hesitated, then said, “…could I talk to you outside for a minute?”

This was rapidly getting weirder. “Uh… sure.” As Moxxie turned to leave, Angel bent down, kissing Blitzø’s cheek. “Hit me up if you need a dancer for a party. I’ll do one for you for free, handsome.”

Blitzø’s eyes got huge and he put his fists under his chin. “This is the best day of my life.” As Angel followed Moxxie out, laughing a little, Blitzø continued, “Loonie, did you hear that?! Free stripper!”

“Good for you, don’t wanna hear about your erection.”

Moxxie led him out into the hallway, then up a flight of stairs and through a roof access door. Angel looked around, raising an eyebrow. “Afraid of bein’ overheard or somethin’?”

“Yeah,” Moxxie said. “It’s something I haven’t told Blitzø about and I don’t really want… he would make it a… a thing. But whatever Millie’s doing might end up affecting you and I feel you deserve a bit of forewarning.”

Angel folded his arms. “Makin’ me nervous here.”

Moxxie waved his hands. “No, sorry, I don’t mean to…” He took a deep breath, then started over. “You know how everyone in Hell has a soulmate mark? Even Hellborn?” Angel nodded once. “I don’t know how Sinners see it, but for the Hellborn, most of us see it as either one of the only good things Hell has to offer us, or something that’s… well. Bullshit. And there are some people who don’t care, of course, but…”

Angel could tell, by the look on Moxxie’s face, which one he was. He supposed he wasn��t surprised to learn that even the Hellborn had its romantics.

Moxxie didn’t finish his last sentence, just continuing, “Millie and I are married. Have been for a bit now. But we aren’t… we’re not soulmates. She’s never had her mark activated, and mine…” He cleared his throat. “…well. Mine isn’t going to… be a problem, I guess you could say.”

“…I’m sorry,” Angel said, unsure of what else to say.

“Oh, no, I don’t mean… I love Millie,” Moxxie said firmly. “I’ve loved her more than anything or anyone I’ve ever known. And Millie has always said she doesn’t care about marks, whether hers matches her partner or not, or even if she ever meets her soulmate. But… a lot of people do care, and there’s this atmosphere around some people that if you aren’t with your soulmate, any other relationship will fail.”

Angel raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t really tell me why she got all worked up.”

Moxxie ran his hand through his hair. “…her parents… don’t like me. I’m not their type of person—they’re ranchers out in Wrath and I’m from a Greed city—but they’re some of the people who think a relationship will fail if you’re not soulmates. Millie says they hound her about it every time she visits home, and she’s gotten to the point that if she hears someone make a claim that a mark is a make or break sort of thing, she gets… really mad.”

Angel stared at him, trying to put the words together with Millie’s actions. “…what, is she gonna go yell at Alastor? Is she nuts?”

“She’s definitely nuts, yes. But I don’t think she’ll do anything drastic. …I really hope she doesn’t,” Moxxie added in a mutter, putting his face in his hands and grumbling something about already having to deal with Blitzø.

“…Y’know this don’t make sense, right?” Angel asked. “So me and Alastor ain’t doin’… whatever we were doin’. Why the fuck would she care?”

Moxxie allowed his hands to fall. “…she was the first one who wanted to pull out of the job the Vees gave us,” he said, hesitating just a little.

Angel frowned. “…why…?”

“Because she…” Moxxie looked up for a moment, then looked at Angel again. “…because she saw the way he was looking at you.”

•

Ten minutes later, Angel was on his way back to Pentagram City, eyes fixed unseeingly on the road.

He had assured Moxxie he would be okay, but he still wasn’t sure if that was a lie or not.

All he knew for certain was that he had no intention of going anywhere near the hotel again until he had gotten laid by at least three different guys.

•••

• Week Three

“Hey baby.”

“Hey bitch!” Cherri was more subdued than she usually was when Angel called her, but of course, he had been somewhat out of pocket for the last three weeks; she would never admit it, but Angel knew she was worrying. “Glad to hear you’re alive. I was about to put out an advert for a new bestie.”

“Do it and I’ll set ‘em on fire,” Angel said with a grin. “Busy tonight? Wanna go out?”

“Sure, I’m down. Got a dive in mind?”

An hour later, they arrived outside a little club called the White Sugar Cookie (slogan: “We’re a speakeasy, but with drugs, so we’re better!”) and both took a bump before heading inside. It was pleasantly tasteful, dark and moody with wood interiors and maroon leather, and Angel took a second to appreciate the house band as he and Cherri headed for the bar and settled themselves.

“What’ll ya have?” the bartender asked, squinting at Angel like he recognized him but couldn’t place him.

Before Angel could deflect, however, a familiar voice interrupted. “Get your fine, tight ass back to work, Arlo, I got this one.” The bartender held his hands up and walked away, and Angel swiveled as Mimzy came out from around the bar and held her arms open. “Angel, baby, it’s been too long!”

“Hiya, Mimzy,” Angel said, leaning down to give her a hug and exchanging kisses to the air with her.

Mimzy was a complicated figure in the Hazbin Hotel. She hadn’t been around since the debacle with the sharks—from what Angel had been able to extrapolate, she and Alastor had been acquainted in life, and Angel had never gotten more than that out of her—but Angel had found her club several months earlier. Since it was a place where you could buy drugs and where anyone harassing other customers got thrown out on their ear, Angel had made it a frequent haunt when he needed to get out of the hotel and couldn’t handle the attention that came from being basically anywhere else. Since Mimzy was exactly his kind of train wreck so long as he kept her at arm’s length and not anything closer, and since Angel liked to drag Cherri along when she wasn’t in one of her wilder party moods, it wasn’t surprising that they formed something of a weird friendship.

“The usual, girls?” Mimzy asked as she went back around the bar. “Or are you feelin’ a bit more spicy?”

“Oh, I could use somethin’ a little more adventurous,” Angel said. He glanced at Cherri, who nodded, then he added, “You got a few minutes, Mimz? Why doncha join us?”

Mimzy put one hand on her hip and one on the bar. “…yeah, just for you.”

Mimzy took them to a private booth in the back corner, along with a pitcher of something alarmingly orange and three martini glasses. Cherri poured for them as Angel asked, “How ya been, Mimzy? Run any more loans out?”

“Oh, honey, I’m in debt up to my ears as usual, which we both know is a pretty low bar with how close I am to the floor,” Mimzy said, taking a glass from Cherri. “Heard about that bullshit the Vees pulled a few weeks ago, though. Glad to see you’re okay.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

Cherri scoffed. “He’s been holed up in that hotel for three weeks. Don’t believe his shit.”

Angel glared at her. “Fuck off,” he said. “I am fine. You’re just jealous my business is takin’ off.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard you started a cam business,” Mimzy said, her eyes lighting up. “Come on, details.”

They talked business, along with a healthy amount of gossip about Mimzy’s regulars, until Cherri spotted a girl that was apparently super hot and excused herself to try and get a dance out of the becoming stranger. Once they were alone, Mimzy picked up the pitcher and refilled Angel’s drink. “So, is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“Don’t play dumb, sweetie, I saw the pictures of you and Alastor out together,” Mimzy said with a dry stare, taking out rolling papers and tobacco and beginning to roll a cigarette on the table. “He’s always been a social sonuvabitch, but I ain’t actually heard’a him gettin’ out and socializin’ in a while. And definitely not in a date setting.”

Angel sighed, putting his head in one hand. “Does it matter?”

“Nah. But I’m nosy, so tell me anyway.”

Mimzy offered Angel a cigarette, and he took it with a begrudging thanks, pulling his lighter out of his chest fluff. “I mean, yeah, we went out on a couple’a dates. It was… y’know… some kinda favor.”

Mimzy pulled a disbelieving face as she tucked a second cigarette into her cigarette holder. “A favor?” she asked skeptically. “Honey, I watched Alastor make women cry for having the audacity to flirt with him back in the day. I mean, when he noticed, of course. I got a hard time buyin’ he’d go on a date as a favor.”

Angel held his lighter out for her. “Don’t matter anyway, it’s done now. We ain’t even talkin’ anymore.”

Mimzy took a drag through the holder to cherry the cigarette before she responded. “Good.” She settled back, holder in one hand, other arm crossed beneath her breasts. “Look, kid, I like you. And since I like you, I don’t really wanna watch you get hurt, which is just about all Alastor does when you start gettin’ through those walls of his.”

Angel wanted to argue, but it felt pointless. He wasn’t even sure if he was going to be arguing with her or himself. “…you knew him pretty well, didn’tcha?”

“As well as anybody did back then, sure.”

“What…” Angel hesitated. Do I wanna know? “…what was he like? Back then?”

“Hm? Well…” Mimzy looked thoughtful for a long moment. “He was always odd. Handsome, but in a way that was real… He had a tendency to stare. Not blink enough. Smile too wide. Y’know, same kinda off-putting shit he does now. I worked at a jazz club down in New Orleans, and he used to come in a lot. He was a kinda local celebrity, y’know, since it was the late 20s, early 30s, and there weren’t a whole lotta radio stations around back then. Or, well, his voice was a celebrity, anyway.”

Mimzy paused to ash into her ashtray, her expression thoughtful. Angel just waited, wondering if Alastor would be mad she was telling him all this.

“He was always real closed-off,” Mimzy continued, raising her cigarette again. “Didn’t talk about himself much. He was from a little village outside of town where all the… well, y’know, where the black folks lived so they didn’t make the white folks uncomfortable. And he had a reputation there for bein’ cursed, was what I heard. Lotta rumors about him and his mother, shit nobody was brave enough to say to his face. They said his mother was some kinda caplata, like a hoodoo priestess, and she specialized in medicine, so the village both needed her and hated her. Word was she was killed by a lynch mob when Alastor was fifteen and he was never the same after that.”

Angel frowned. “That’s… awful,” he murmured, not sure what else to say.

“Dunno how much of it’s true,” Mimzy said with a shrug. “But Alastor was always dangerous. After he died, it came out that he was a killer, but I know for a fact they never figured out just how many people he bumped off. Hell, I don’t think I had any idea, and I helped hide him a couple’a times.” She hesitated, then said, “Never did find out what happened to that kid, either.”

Angel sat up a little at the sudden non-sequitur, his eyes widening as he tried not to choke on his cigarette. “Kid? Are you— Alastor had a kid?!”

“What? Oh!” Mimzy cackled, waving her hand. “Oh, fuck no, Alastor hates children. I say kid, but he was… I dunno, twenty or so? Hard to tell with the white hair. Real cutie, big eyes, always wearin’ these real sharp white suits, drove the girls at the club absolutely nuts when he didn’t give ‘em the time of day either. Alastor met him at Mardi Gras, and I guess they were friends. Came in together a lot over that last year Alastor was alive. He was some kinda runaway from up north, from what I gathered, and I hear he went back home after Al died. Shame, too; seemed like Alastor was finally startin’ to open up.”

Angel took all of this in, thinking to himself. He’d known Alastor had gone through a lot, but he hadn’t realized… It sounded like whoever that guy was, he was real important to Alastor. And really, it wasn’t any of Angel’s business, was it?

Maybe I never should have asked.

“So you’re sayin’ he’s always been a pain in the ass,” Angel said, deflecting with a smirk.

Mimzy didn’t notice, just grinning at him. “The biggest. Get him a trophy and beat him over the head with it.”

“I’ll pass. Waste of a good trophy.” Angel finished his cigarette, then put it out. “Hey, Mimz, got one more question for you.”

“What’s up?”

“I’m thinkin’ about movin’ out. Got any ideas for a good place to set up shop? My new business needs room.”

•••

• Week Four

Angel understood, now, why Cherri had left after things had fallen apart with Husk. Even if she didn’t want anything to do with the soul connection—honestly, Angel still couldn’t get a read on her when it came to all that shit—it couldn’t have been easy to still see him every day and feel that pull and know that he wanted nothing more than to pretend she didn’t exist.

He couldn’t stand looking at Alastor anymore. Every time he did, he felt an almost overwhelming urge to go to him and do something, anything to just get Alastor to talk to him. And whenever he did see Alastor, the Radio Demon acted like he didn’t even exist. Angel could tolerate a lot, but an eternity of Alastor ignoring him wasn’t one of those things.

If all it took was a month to get him into this state, how would he feel after a year?

Angel was in the middle of packing up his stuff—Charlie had assured him (with tears in her eyes) they would get his things delivered to his new place so he wouldn’t have to worry about it—when he heard a knock on the door. He hesitated, because it wasn’t a knock he heard often, before he heard a small and sad voice. “Angel? Are you there? Can I come in?”

Angel felt his shoulders sink a little. “…sure, Niffty.”

The door opened and Niffty stepped in, closing it behind her. She looked around slowly. “…it’s true. You’re leaving.”

“…yeah. It’s true.”

Immediately, Niffty’s large eye filled with tears. “Noooo…!” she whined, running over to Angel. He knelt down, and she threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him. “You can’t leave! I don’t want you to!”

“Oh, Niff…” Angel smiled a little, even though he didn’t feel it, returning the hug and gently rubbing her little back. “It ain’t like I’m gonna be gone forever. You can always come see me, and we can hang out whenever you want.”

“But I want to see you here!”

He sighed. “I’m sorry, Niffty, I am. I don’t want to leave, I just… I can’t stay here anymore.”

“Yes you can! Alastor’s stupid and you don’t have to leave just because he’s stupid!”

Angel actually laughed at that, gently taking her by the shoulders to pull away enough to look at her. “Yeah, he is stupid,” he said fondly, reaching up to wipe a tear from her face. “But he doesn’t wanna see me no more, and he’s gotta stay for the hotel.”

Niffty shook her head firmly, grabbing Angel’s hand in both of hers. “He does! He’s just— he’s bad at everything.” She sniffled a little. “Do you hate him?”

“No, honey, I don’t hate him,” Angel said firmly.

“Do you love him?”

He hesitated. “I…” A while ago, he would have waved that off with a laugh and dismissed it immediately, but now… “…I think I do.”

I think I have for a while now. Even before this mark shit. Does that make me pathetic?

“Then why won’t you stay?”

“It’s because I care about him,” Angel said. “It’s too hard to see him right now, Niff. Maybe I’ll come back one day, but I just… I can’t right now.”

Niffty stared up at him as he gently petted her hair a few times. “…do you promise you won’t leave forever?”

“Yeah, Niffty. I promise.”

Angel let Niffty help him pack up a bit, and as they worked, he couldn’t help noticing the other Sinner growing pensive. She ended up leaving after only a few minutes, giving Angel a big hug before hurrying off. Angel finished up alone, then grabbed his purse and the handle of his little hellpig’s harness.

“Come on, Fat Nuggets. Let’s go.”

•••

[thewritingcellist]

Late at night, Eddie loves tracing the veins that show on his wrists.

It started out as something small, something he didn’t notice, way back in hospital. The place they sometimes avoid driving past as though it’ll grow Vecna-like tentacles and ensnare Eddie again. The place that Steve swore to god was more his home - more welcoming than his home - with all the time he spent there. And the place that saved Eddie’s life, and Max’s, in that terrifying limbo of After.

Eddie was so still and quiet back then. So pale and faint. Like a pencil smudge all but erased.

For so long it seemed hopeless. For so long all Steve’s life consisted of was ferrying himself and the kids back and forth. Drawing up a roster - an honest to god roster - to allocate time for each to spend with either Max or Eddie that wouldn’t drive the nurses mad. Somehow he’d done it. And somehow he’d ended up always being the last one to see Eddie each evening. Whether it was fluke or subconscious design he still doesn’t really know, but he does know that the quiet in that room unnerved him more than Vecna ever had. So he’d taken to speaking, quietly, about anything that came to mind. Basketball. Repairs. Robin. The car. Even the music he was listening to, music he knew Eddie would side eye him for. It all tumbled out whilst his fingers trailed mindless patterns on the hospital sheets. And interspersed with it, he apologised.

For being too slow. For being that jock. For not getting DnD no matter how much Dustin tried. For realising things too late. For needing Robin to help him understand.

He wishes, when he’s definitely in one of his romantic moods, that it was then that Eddie woke up. That their eyes met, that he frantically called the doctor or nurse to come see the miracle. But it didn’t. And maybe that’s better. Because how it did happen is so much more ‘them’ than anything else could be.

So instead of a dramatic awakening, Steve felt Eddie’s fingers brush his wrist.

Even all these months later, that feeling hasn’t lost its electrifying surge of power.

But back then - the first time - Steve didn’t even notice. He still continued bitching about Henderson’s lack of manners over spilling a drink in his car. Over the cost of cleaning. Over the stupidity of it all. And all the while, Eddie’s fingertips traced idle, undirected patterns over his veins. Butterfly soft, and gossamer light.

It wasn’t until the day after, when he’d been greeted at Eddie’s door by a nurse who reminded him of Robin in fifteen years, that something registered. As she explained that Eddie was responding to outside stimuli, that he was trying to interact, that he was on the cusp of waking up, that Steve had a niggle in the back of his head that he’d missed something important.

Eddie still rips into him over that in the most loving way possible.

So maybe it was because he was looking for it, that he noticed it that second night. And by noticing it then, had an echo of a memory from the night before. The faint callous from Eddie’s guitar playing grazing Steve’s skin. The catch of a nail that needed trimming. He’s not too proud to admit he nearly cried at the touch. At how Eddie was reaching out. Reaching through the coma to pull himself out.

It took two more days for it to work. Two more evenings of a feathery brand applied to Steve’s wrist, as though the touch was lightening the void that Eddie had been floating in since they carried his bloodied body out of the Upside Down. And by the time Eddie did open his eyes to meet Steve’s, there was nothing hidden and nothing able to be misunderstood.

One night, not dissimilar to this night, Eddie confessed why he did it. Why, even after he was discharged and fitter than he’d ever been, he’d still trace Steve’s veins on his wrist.

“It’s life, man. You, you’re so bright to me, always have been, the balance to how dark I can get-” and if Steve hates hearing that, Eddie shushes him expertly with teeth and tongue before continuing “and right here is where we join and meet. Right here is where I felt you alive and near. That’s something heady. Your life just caught beneath this fragile skin.”

So Steve lets him trace his veins, doesn’t even pay it any attention late at night. But it’s reaffirming all the same, this small ritual that has been with them since before the start was even acknowledged. The unspoken bond that tethers them together. And when he feels Eddie’s fingertips seek out the patch of skin, he turns into it, into them, and settles further into sleep.

[dogwooddiaries]

starting a little thing!

I Don't Need Much With You, My Love (1099 words) by Breakingofdawn Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: The Boys in the Boat (2023) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Don Hume/Bobby Moch Characters: Bobby Moch, Don Hume Additional Tags: Fluff, Light Angst, Secret Relationship Series: Part 2 of What You Know About Me Summary: It doesn't matter that they look at each other for hours every day. Even though they have all that time in the shell together, Don and Bobby haven't had a second to be together, just them, in weeks.

It doesn't matter that they look at each other for hours every day. Even though they have all that time in the shell together, Don and Bobby haven't had a second to be together, just them, in weeks.

Don has had an extra heavy workload leading up to term finals, while Bobby has had that as well as half a dozen activities and clubs he's a part of outside of rowing. 

Then there was the weekend where Bobby traveled back home for his mother's birthday. And, of course, their increasing hours of rowing practice as they get ready for Poughkeepsie.

Of course, the fact that they can't just start necking in a corner of the campus lawn in front of the general student population is part of why they haven't found time for themselves. But mostly it's the number of their responsibilities and the maddening opposition of this term's schedule that keeps them apart. 

Rowing has always been their top priority among all the other things on their plate. Lately, the fact that practice is one of the only times they are within arms' reach of each other makes them look forward to it all the more.

Bobby occasionally flirts with risk, sneaking touches by brushing up against Don on an irrational route through the locker room or walking beside him along the dock to the water, letting their hands bump together far more than anyone normally would. 

The latest maneuver he has taken to is occasionally bracing a hand on Don's leg and leaning forward to yell up toward the front of the boat. The stance looks threatening to everyone behind Don (and nearly blows out the stroke's eardrum) but it's the most tender touch they've shared in a while. 

It's all a little maddening. Don is convinced that if he has to watch Bobby walk out of the showers still damp with a towel slung low across his hips one more time and do nothing about it, he will pitch himself into the middle of the lake.

At the end of another day going different directions, Bobby waves a quick goodbye to their group after dinner in the dining hall, holding Don's eyes an extra beat before he heads to some club council or another. Soon after, Don rises too, heading to another night of studying to ensure he makes a perfect score on his upcoming exam and, consequently, his class. Ulbrickson has made it clear he would have his head.

Instead of heading to the library, he turns toward crew housing. He doesn't realize his plan until he finds himself in front of Bobby's door. The hall is quiet and empty, and Don isn't surprised to find the door unlocked.

He drops his bag on the floor and determines that he'll study on the bed. There's only barely enough light to see by, so he pulls the switch for the lamp.

He takes out his books, paper, and pencil, settling in dutifully to concentrate on his work. He makes his notes and outlines carefully. 

Hours later, when his mind is overloaded with terms and processes and charts, he stands to stretch, bending to pop kinks out of his back while his eyes wander around the room. 

At first, he can only think about the one he is missing. For two months now, they've had the bliss of each other, something special he's never known before. Don knows it would sound drastic to anyone else, but he thinks that Bobby Moch has changed his life. Just being in his room makes him feel more real, more himself.

His eyes fall on Bobby's pocket watch, a family heirloom, so polished and ornate looking on the simple dresser. Bobby has mentioned that he never wears it, nonetheless it's always out on display of sorts. 

A framed photo of his family is beside the watch, one Don has noticed before but never observed closely. Stepping over, he picks it up. He tilts it towards the light to inspect it and runs his finger over a younger Bobby, no less slight and sharp looking than the version he knows. The wide, bright grin on the boy's face makes a faint reflection tug across Don's own, even while his chest clenches with a strange melancholy. He searches the faces of Bobby's parents, finding like features and a familiarity in the strangers.

Returning the frame to its place, Don runs his hand along the edge of the dresser, traces his fingers along the cool metal handles of the top drawer. He doesn't know why.

There are two hooks on the wall, awkwardly placed in the corner behind the door. Bobby's varsity sweater is draped over one, alongside a clean but faded cap on the other. Don absentmindedly picks it up, running his hand on the inside of it. He remembers seeing Bobby wear this particular cap exactly one time before; it was in a bar on a night that both tore him open and filled him up.

Returning it to the hook, he skims the sweater, rubbing the coarse wool between his fingers as he slides them down the sleeve. He lets his hand drop, then, hardly thinking, he lifts the sweater off the hook and drapes it over his arm.

When he turns back to the bed, he realizes he has mussed the covers during his studying. Bobby always keeps it neat so Don will try to fix it. Leaving the sweater on the pillow, he picks up his books and papers and returns them to his bag. Next, he re-tucks the loosened sheets and does his best to smooth and align the bedspread draped over the top. 

Contemplating his work with a frown, Don makes up his mind about a thought that's been hovering since he came into this room. He remembers to kick off his shoes as he gingerly stretches to the far side of the bed up against the wall, lowering himself down onto the neatly made surface. 

He pulls the wool sweater to his face, surprised to smell so much layered inside of one thing. Bobby's clean and peppery scent is woven there, as he expected. It's something that will always make his heart race. But then too, underneath the smell of Bobby, he finds the familiar scents of the lake and the shell house, of wood and water and fresh air. 

Breathing all of those elements in at once makes his muscles relax and eyes drift shut with the peace of it. Tucked here in his arms, he holds parts of the life that holds him together.

[donutz]

Craftycorn x reader Valentine's Day special[4♡8]

—☆You are a smiling critter in this, if u want to know which one(but don't know what animal or insect to pick) you could start out as a sheep!

What did they do in the morning on Valentine's?

— She woke a little bit earlier than usual to add extra touches to her gifts

— Was looking over at you every 5 mins just in case you woke up

— Was really hoping you didn't wake up

— Thankfully, you didn't so she could go back to sleep peacefully

— She forgot to hide her gifts.

What did they do for you?

— The days before Valentine's, she kept on giving you Valentine's Day cards, that have a code for you to put together

— You wanted to solve it right away, but you had to wait

— Contemplate whether you would like her gifts or not

— She also put a card with words on it, putting the three words together, it spelt, I-L♡ve-You!

What did they get you?

— A bunch of cards! With wonderfully colored art! Most of them express how much she loves you!!

— A rainbow colored heart shaped box, with many candies inside!!

— A bouquet with different colored flowers!

— Hand crafted origami roses, all 7 of them are different colors

— And a book that’s Valentine's Day themed, all coloring pages are done

What did you give them?

— A sticker page with those smiling things, the glaggles, they were all rainbow colored

— A coloring book that had many animals in it, just so she could color it!

— A rice krispies treat(They’re her favorites)

— A bunch of art supplies, actual good ones though

— A sticker book

— Colorful glue, scissors, pencils, a ruler, coloring pencils, she names it you got it

Did they do anything special? (Extra hugs, kisses, changing their routine etc.)

— She did give you a smooch on the cheek when giving you your gifts!

What activities did you both do?

— Colored together

— Made a bunch of origami, even when she was struggling and getting mad, you were there to help her

— So she didn’t get angry at all the whole time

— You two did the thing, where you draw something for 5 minutes and then switch the drawings

— All activities had to do with paper and canvas’

Did they seem brighter today?

— Yep!

— She got more shy when giving you your gifts

— But got a lot more happier when you gave her|her gifts

Anything new about their appearance?

— She wore a rainbow bow on her horn

How many times did they say I love you?

— She said it in the morning, after giving you your gifts, at the most random times, and then when it was time to sleep

— Soo… 8 times!

Did they ask to be your Valentine's, or did they ask if you could be their Valentine's? There’s a difference!

— She asked if you could be her Valentine's

— She was very shy asking it

— You could hear the nervousness in her voice

What did they do the night before Valentine's Day?

— Actually slept pretty well!

— Surprisingly didn’t nearly stay up doing her arts and crafts!

— Only because you said not to though

— She was hesitating whether to not stay up

— She let out a sigh and then went to bed like she was supposed to

Were they shy asking to be your Valentine's or when they asked if you could be their Valentine's?

— She’s super shyyy!! ^0^ Super shy!!

Did they add anything extra to their areas(their little homes)? Or their activities?

— She stuck paper hearts on the walls of her castle

— Decorated the inside of it too

— She’s the type to decorate her house based on the month, like Halloween decorations etc.

— She’s the type have those amazing and nicely decorated houses on Christmas

What did they do when it was time to sleep?

— Honk shoo

— Honk shooooooo

A/N|| If you took notice, I colored the word Valentine's every time it was said. That was because this fanfic is about Craftycorn!! It's a detail I wanted to add in since she likes color☆ ～('▽^人)

Question♡ Were you a single Pringle on Valentine's? Or were you a taken bacon?(I sound like a millennial)

[tieronecrush]

pick-n-mix🛍️:

Javi P + “I don’t think I can remain professional” 😇

TYSM for the drabble request bestie ily -- smut under the cut

boss!javier peña x assistant!reader (f)

18+ ONLY, MDNI - no other warnings on drabbles, read at your own risk

His hands are splayed across his desk, arms straight to hold him up as he leans over the surface to study the documents haphazardly strewn in front of him. The top button of his Oxford is undone, tie tugged down in a loose knot to give him room to breathe after his tense meeting with the ambassador. That happened hours ago, night falling across the large windows on one side of his fish bowl office, harsh fluorescents stinging his dry eyes.

His attention is pulled up from the sea of paper at the sound of your heels echoing clicks on the tile floors, each step short from the limited mobility of your navy pencil skirt. He’d always thought of you as a bit of a whirlwind since he’d been introduced to you as his assistant when he started as the attaché three months ago, and the way you’re swishing into his office with one arm full of manilla folders and the other carrying a legal pad in the crease of your elbow and two cups of coffee in your hands.

“I got those files from Stoddard’s desk that you asked for, Agent Peña. And I figured with the need to go through these, you’d be needing some fuel for the next few hours.” You held up the coffee, a subtle smile on your face when you reach his desk, and carefully set everything down.

“Thanks.” It comes out much more clipped than he meant it to, the tension across his body seeping into his voice. Something flashes in your eyes at the harsh gratitude, rounding around the large piece of furniture to stand next to him. He can smell the floral notes of your perfume, and his eyes dart quickly to catch the gap of cleavage created in the opening of your silky blouse. You’re telling him something, his stare facing the papers but his mind wandering to thoughts of how the satin of your shirt would feel under his hands,  how you’d look with the material of your skirt bunched up around your hips, how you’d sound whimpering his name — his first name — with him over you or between your thighs…

A warm touch on his shoulder pulls him out of his thoughts, his heading turning to see your hand laid on him and eyes turned up to meet his. Your face is inches away from his, humid breaths exchanged between slightly parted lips.

“I don’t think I can remain professional with you right now,” his voice is low yet still commanding while a panic flashes in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to overstep—”

His palm caresses your cheek as he turns to face you completely, brown eyes softening into yours as his tongue prods out to wet his lips.

“This okay with you, hermosa? Wanna take a break from all this?”

“I think some release could refresh your mind.” He nearly drops to his knees right then, but he remains standing and pulls you into a heady, teethy kiss. When his tongue melds into your mouth, you submit with a whimper and turn to jelly as his hands tug the hem of your skirt to your hips. He guides you to sit on the edge of his desk, spreading your legs to stand between them to grind his hardness tented in his dark blue chinos against the lacy fabric covering your cunt. A gasp of his name, his first name that he didn’t even know that you knew, slips from your mouth as he finds a place in the crook of your neck, front teeth grazing the supple skin there.

“Think we’re gonna have an even later night now, hermosa.”

[gaoau]

sulfur

tria prima warnings — none. word count — 857

prev.

when he hears the water moving, Albedo looks up from his sketchbook, pencil in hand. a smile tugs at his lips as he notices [Name]'s arms are nearly full while they return from their trip underwater. he turns back to his drawing, listening to the sound of their footsteps approaching on the snow. they kneel by their discarded satchel to start drying off before the freezing temperature consumes them (and to make sure they don't drip water on Albedo's paper again).

mask off and dry clothes, [Name] lays their findings on a spare towel and leaves them to dry. they hum curiously, glancing at Albedo's sketch as his hand skillfully runs along the paper, graphite and pressure in the right places with careful strokes. "the spine was curved upwards some more. do you think you can—?"

"like this?" before they manage to even finish their thoughts, Albedo fixes the structure of the animal [Name] has been playing with all afternoon. he doesn't get to see anything they do with his own eyes, so he trusts their memory and translates it onto paper to the best of his abilities. he tilts the drawing towards them for them to take a better look.

with a weightless smile on their lips, they take a seat by his side, pressing their shoulder against his in search for nonexistent warmth. "yeah, that's perfect." they bring their knees up to their chest as they rub their hands together. they breathe into their palms, "hopefully, next time it decides to play around with me again." they offer him a simper, a childlike glint in their eyes at the prospect of a new opportunity to explore the depths of the waters.

because Albedo knows, there's only two things that fascinate them enough to have them always coming back for more; him and the rest of the world.

he can't say he finds it taxing to spare some of his own leisure time to keep them company during their spontaneous expeditions. it doesn't matter if it takes them months or hours to decide to dive back down into the ocean, their absence never means they're gone. it's impossible for [Name] to lose connection with him.

the cold doesn't bother either of them very much, but Albedo has noticed [Name]'s tolerance is lower. he tugs his gloves off and takes it upon himself to warm their hands up, making sure they wear them properly. [Name] smiles gratefully at him. "you don't have a soul, do you?" they wonder out loud as per usual, because they can tell.

Albedo blinks with raised brows, processing their question. [Name] can tell, he doesn't burn the same way they and the rest of the world do.

they gently brush some strands of hair off his eyes. "not that there's anything wrong with that, but i've been wondering for a while." it's fascinating, if anything. from the keratin in his hair to the amino acids in his code and every building block that makes him what he is; however similar, it is not the same. something like the soul is essential for life, yet he has none.

he hums in contemplation. a soft smile pulls on his lips. "do you believe the soul is real?"

"i know it's real." from smelling wildflowers to touching creatures underwater to holding hands with humans, every living organism has a semblance of warmth. if anyone would know, it's [Name], with their own experiments of life. "it's material and a bright yellow color for everyone and everything. it burns like sulfuric acid on your skin."

it's certainly difficult to feel anything at all through gloved fingers, but [Name] doesn't need skin contact to know Albedo lacks that core warmth the whole galaxy happens to overflow with. they reach their palm up to his face, brushing their thumb over his cheek. his eyes close on instinct.

[Name]'s voice lowers into a whisper, data on their papers they don't want to share with anyone else, "the soul is what burns—different from the spirit. that's why we feel warm inside or our chest tightens. it's the principle of combustibility."

a faint chuckle tumbles from his lips. Albedo opens his eyes once more to find theirs. "then i suppose there's no point arguing with you that i do have a soul." he takes their hand in his, cold fingers intertwining with warm ones like puzzle pieces.

[Name] laughs, too, their breath condensing in the air. through their own hypotheses and experiments, they've found someone like Albedo, and through him, they've found a lack of soul is much more interesting. they can hardly complain he's empty. it's much more fulfilling to have something so unusual in the palm of their hands, something that no one else has the opportunity to investigate and learn about like they do.

Albedo's life and essence—all of him inside and out, no matter how cold and void, it's only for [Name] to explore.

note — ive played a total of one hour of genshin and didnt even meet venti let alone albedo but scientists and nojima kenji am i right anyway a few things to understand my scientific metaphors and that intp rizz acting up. alchemical symbols were like code for elements and shit back when alchemy was banned :call me emoji: so the sun for example refers to gold. theres this thing called tria prima or three primes which is like these are the three bases that everything else is made up of: soul (sulfur), spirit (mercury), and body (salt). cinnabar is a pretty red rock, its mercury ore, if you grind that shit into powder you get vermillion pigment, but since its mercury, that shits mad toxic, so its manufactured synthetically now. live and learn. youd know this if youd watched drstone. also mercury can be turned into gold through neutron bombardment but the pieces of gold that that produces are all radioactive so. regarding the ultra violet light thing, when electricity is passed through mercury vapor, it produces short wave uv light (which we all know it aint visible), but that shit reacting with phosphor causes fluorescence, which is how fluorescent lighting works.  in terms of salt. basic chemistry. anions are ions with negative charge, cations are ions with positive charge, and when those shits mix they make a chemical compound with no net charge called salt. i didnt think id need to explain this but someone didnt know this stuff so here we are. remember all table salt is the chemical compound known as salt but not all salts are table salt. last sulfur. uh. sulfur is naturally a bright yellow crystal compound thingy like thats its natural form. i dont believe in the soul and i just wrote this for the pretty alchemist with a metaphorical approach surrounding alchemical concepts so tbh im making shit up as i go. but since sulfur is yellow, souls are yellow. sulfur is also essential for life we learned this in school kids come on. its in amino acids, thats the base of bases for everything honestly anyway thats that. im not saying albedo is heartless and soulless and freak 🫵, im just saying bros built different cause he do be and i love him for that good for him. youre welcome drink water have day (i will never do this again)

—あごす (agosu) • 2023

[terrence-silver]

TERRY SILVER BREEDING KINK HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD… PLEASE PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING FOR IT🙏LOVE YOUR BLOG

---

He scheduled this thing by the hourly.

He scheduled it the same way he scheduled business meetings, overseas calls and corporate issues; Neatly, precisely and always on time --- in fact, Terry Silver never believed in half-assing a thing. Not work, not money, not leisure, not vendettas. Not anything. He'd fiercely dedicate himself to a goal and invest weeks, months and even years, if need be, to see tasks come to completion, not intending to stop or leave something half finished until the objective he had in his mind was transferred into reality in its purest form. Some would call him stubbornly and shamelessly ambitious in the pursuit of things he wanted and truth to tell, that wasn't a title he minded having. It was a complement, in fact. With that thought in mind, he swiftly glances at the Rolex hanging off of his wrist as he bursts into the bedroom where you were waiting for him, as agreed, sitting on the mattress, hands in your lap, looking at the antique wall clock yourself, nearly yelping when he practically lounges at you, throwing you back, spine against the bed, legs up.

He was doing this between a conference call from Shanghai waiting for him on line six and his lawyers from upstate visiting him to negotiate their course of action concerning the indictment over the brand new Plutonium deal. Terry had exactly ten minutes wiggle room, give or take. Maybe less.

-"No underwear, huh? Perfect."-

Terry chuckles and remarks in haste, all breath, keeping things brisk and straight to the point as he unzipped his trousers and pulled his cock out through his boxers, giving it a couple of quick yet leisurely strokes, finding that you had no such barriers yourself to make this more complicated than it needed to be. The first several times you did this, he lost precious moments needed to get you out of your knickers, as Margaret called them. So, since then, he decided to make things tactically infinitely easier. Have you wear as little as possible so he'd need to remove as little as possible in a rush. The type of strategy The Art of War would envy. -"Just like we've agreed. Spares me the two seconds needed to rip that crap of you every forty five minutes."- He practically chortles, feeling your engorged, inviting wetness with his fingers, swollen and red from the previous five times you did this only today alone. He was certain that at this point, it was hard to keep your legs closed due to the soreness, but truth to tell, keeping them open would be fantastically practical considering the circumstances. -"I see you kept yourself prepared. Did your warm up. Good."- He coos, grunting as he brings the tip of his cock close to your loose, wet entrance and you nod vigorously as confirmation. He smiles, pleased. You periodically touching yourself throughout the day in his absence, like he instructed, also saved on time needed for foreplay. Like training a muscle before a fight, he needed you ready and he needed you up for the challenge.

-"How are you already hard again? We just did this half an hour ago?"-

You moan as his length slides inside of you and he throws his back, laughing. Sure, his plan to just keep fucking you until he knocks you up, even if that meant fucking you eight times a day, morning, noon and night certainly required a feat of incredible libido and stamina, but he always felt himself to be someone who is an infinite optimist bent on overcoming himself, never accepting limitations or things out to control him. -"Boring topics like the environmental status of Borneo pop up and some people play with pencils and office supplies at the conference table to kill time. Some people smoke. Laugh at the slides."- He explains, building up his pace as he spoke, nearly giggling at the image he was describing, gripping your waist. -"I train my wrist strength under the desk."- He confesses and the absolute shock in your eyes would almost be enough to tip him over the edge, but Terry quickly presses a hand over your mouth, effectively gaging you before you can say anything and interrupt him. -"And yeah, they all know."- He chortles, bluntly. He was pretty certain everyone that was employed for him, both in his household and in the company --- perhaps in the general sense too --- knew that when he rushed back here for a quick break, he rushed back home because he was trying for a baby and made a relentless effort not to keep it discreet. Let them all know. Let them all hear.

-"I sit back, light a cigar and I stroke."-

He adds, shaking his head, painting a pretty picture, rutting into you faster and faster.

-"What's best, they're so well paid they can't even seem to be bothered by it. Isn't that great?"- He laughs, finding it downright hilarious and you moan against the palm of his hand. Chairmen of the Board and all their assistants at Dynatox were shockingly flexible with their tolerance when their salary bonuses were regular and hefty, and in fact, the big Boss getting himself deliberately hard mid-meetings was one of the more mundane and harmless things they'd have to turn a blind eye to, all things considered. -"I could fuck you in front of all of them and they'd probably stand up and cheer like well-trained robots."- Terry saw it all very clearly in his mind, as obscene as it was --- all of his employees together, clapping like it's New Years once he finally spent himself inside you, making bets if this was the fateful moment of your conception and the certainty that decades from now, they'd have a new Boss, feeling jubilant over his legacy. Fuck, the things that made him giddy. Your eyes roll back and your lids close, eyelashes fluttering shut as you sighed deeply. He removes his hand finally and with one last grunt, Terry cums, holding himself in place for a couple moments longer, ensuring not a single drop of him is wasted or leaks out. He looks at his watch, flicking his wrists, adjusting his lapels and the buttons on his sleeve. He had exactly two minutes extra and his team from New York should've been here any second now. A perfect marathon score. With all the supplements, vitamins, your dietary regimen, a positive end result was all but assured. Terry thought of everything, leaving nothing up to chance.

-"We're moving mountains over here!"-

He practically pumps his fist with joy, grabbing his zipper and pulling it up before adjusting himself and getting off of you and the bed, the mattress shifting under his weight, watching you still laying there, legs spread, disheveled and positively post-coital, pumped full of him. He could see you, exactly nine months from now, swollen, in this exact same position, giving birth and the thought has him smiling and gleefully digging the upper row of his teeth into his lower lip. He could see you, next year, repeating the exact same thing. But, Rome wasn't built in a day. -"I'll be back in half an hour. Be ready and stay ready."- He promises and reminds, leaning back down quickly and pressing a kiss on your neck as a temporary goodbye. You groan as you sit back up. He needed to up your physical condition. Introduce you to some stretches. Ensure your stamina is up to par. Practicality and all. So you'd endure this better. -"How long will we be doing this at this place?"- You ask, looking at him hopefully. Wasn't it obvious by now? You'd get creampied until he didn't have to creampie you any longer because you'd be busy popping up his brats. -"For as long as it takes."- He turns to you once he's done affixing his suit and hair in the boudoir bedroom mirror, giving you his best smile of sainthood, wondering if his point, along with his expression, went across. That he wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted. He turns for the door, checking his watch again, ready to leave. Yeah, exactly ten minutes. Perfect. -"Although, I wouldn't mind if we did this forever."- He adds in stride, chuckling, grabbing the door handle, Ms. Spencer and his secretaries waiting in the hallway on the other side, all equipped with files of paperwork on the ready.

Too well paid, professional and loyal to care indeed.

-"Mr. Silver, the guests from New York are in the lobby. They've been told you have undelayable obligations, but that you'll be seeing them promptly."-

She states, giving him a knowing look through her thick-rimmed spectacles.

He rushes past her, already counting down the minutes until he could have you again.

-"Thank you, Margaret. I'll be right with them."-