#i just get tired of some of the high and mighty like 'this is not about your fucking fandom' responses i see from some ops.

[fallloverfic]

I love singNsong again reminding people in Side Story that Dokja wanted other people to read TWSA (he wrote reviews and comments! It was his first wish), and he only stopped bothering because people harassed him for it. He didn't gate-keep the story. When he's avoiding talking to Sangah about it at the beginning of ORV, it's because he knows what happens when he tells people about the story, not because he's gate-keeping it from her. He notes he's not proud of his hobby (likely because he's been bullied all through his life, including for reading the thing he loves): he finds it embarrassing to talk about, and better respects her studying Spanish in her free time (learning another language is a generally accepted thing in society). He assumes she won't care or will look at him funny (or worse) for when she learns about the novel he's into.

Basically anyone writing "let's gatekeep ORV" posts because of the anime announcement or because they dislike the manhwa or some other weirdness, y'all are the villains in the scenario.

The literal climax of the story is about sharing ORV with as many people as possible. What story were y'all reading?

[arundolyn]

its really interesting to me how the resident vampires in general of gg and bb have such completely different ideologies. mostly in reference to slayer and rachel but i think this somewhat extends to clavis also bc iirc he wasnt an observer but still kinda played by the same rules. theres at least a plot reason for rachel not to stick her nose into anything plotwise but she still kinda does anyway and i think even if she didnt have the bystander restrictions she wouldnt deign to interact with anyone all that often. i like the dichotomy of the alucards' general attitudes towards humans being at least moderately scornful and superior to some extent even if not actively despite still ultimately wanting to help out (mostly rachel tbh but theres still elements of the typical fiction vampire superiority complex type shit just in general vibes wise for all three of them, esp in relation to like. fuzzy) and slayer's attitude that humanity is a beautiful thing and wanting to help the people he comes across despite having no particular incentive to do so aside from personal fascination and goodwill. rachel already built in having some level of scorn for humans as lesser and also having ample incentive to never interfere with the main storyline as it carries out but doing it anyway because despite these things she still cares despite the active threat to her Literal Existence vs slayer having no skin in the game either way if he does or doesnt help anyone out but still deciding to try to help others find their way regardless just because if nothing else its the most interesting thing to do from his perspective. he has no external motivation TO or NOT TO interfere with anything, its just essentially long term people watching and hed rather do good than do nothing

[gotta-bail-my-quails]

i'm a bit too tired to put together an appropriately coherent argument right now, but i feel the need to speak on the 'vote blue no matter who' thing because it keeps coming up on my dash and i'm fucking tired of it.

stop trying to beg a system to get better when that system was designed to hold power over you, when it benefits from staying as is, when it wants to keep you down and on a leash. You are voting for the fucking leash man, not the person holding it. You know why negotiations for a ceasefire have been falling flat? Because Israel never cared about morals--there's no use in begging the colonial entity to have some conscience because we wouldn't fucking be here right now if they could be talked out of genocide. If there are train tracks that both go through hospitals, you don't fucking wonder which hospital has less people in it, you wonder who the fuck designed the damn tracks to go through a hospital! And then you fucking redesign them so that shit doesn't happen! You don't hire the same guy who built the tracks to do it again either because who knows if he's gonna just build them through more hospitals--you rip those rails up yourself, got it?

[krogans-give-the-best-cuddles]

People will use the cadence of fandom jokes, like literally make variations of fandom jokes just vague enough to be unclear and then talk about their real personal life or about real life oppression with them. on the fandom jokes website. and then be shocked and horrified when other people reblog and tag like little characters.

Like they'll act like everyone else is a brain poisoned weirdo for seeing a post on their dash and hitting reblog to add a little guy.

1. That is the culture of the website, tagging your guy for your own blog is not unusual

2. If you don't want this happening to personal posts. You can make them unrebloggable, saving you from having to hear literally anyone's thoughts about this at all.

3. If you are making a vague reference to real world moments. And using a jokey fandom style tone. And you do not in any way make it clear you're not Simply Making A Fandom Joke. And there's literally no identifying information like a place a date or an event named. And then you get angry that people, who likely do not even follow your blog, who don't know what you were just looking at or thinking about or anything that was in the context of the joke- you get angry at these people when the only context they have. Is the framework of the joke. Created in a fandom space for fandom moments. Like maybe the person who's bad at reading context, or meaning or what have you is you actually.

Like as much as everyone should work on like. Not assuming the context of an authors post and not assuming things about them. And authors can't control how people read something etc etc. You as an author should not assume your readers understand what you mean via telepathy. Authors of posts should also maybe be able to see that if they are communicating super unclearly then they will receive unclear and not accurate responses to the situation at hand.

[inkskinned]

how odd, to watch the creative writing exercises of angry men in the comments of instagram. you noticed it first in the comments of conventionally attractive women - but then it started appearing everywhere else, too.

a young man talks about what lunch he's packing his wife. there is a little story under it, with 300 likes, fabricated from nothing. "this is pointless. if you treat her like this, she will take the lunch to her office and fuck her boss and divorce him and take all his money."

you scroll. a young woman talks about what lunch she's packing for her husband. it is always uglier when the subject of the video is a woman, you've noticed. "you sit on camera and you smile and you are cheating with the neighbor and then you're going to lie about being sexually assaulted by your husband and -"

you stop reading. it has 567 likes.

where did this even become a thing? people making up stories in their head, disgusting long-winded assumptions about intention and sexual disgrace. the evil twin of fanfiction.

like - it's just a lie. it's a lie that they are telling, baldfaced and assumptive. the undercurrent is of course misogyny, but the trouble is that they're so fucking certain. that's what makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. there is this pervasive, inventive desire for them to be right. that they must be right. all women are cheating, lying, gold-digging bitches. no exceptions.

in the reverse, when women say i'd rather meet a bear in the woods than a strange man - men funnel in from the sides. they defend each other with a vibrance and capacity for empathy you wish applied to like, the other half of the population. a man could be saying i absolutely did kill her and these creatures in the comments would rise up with king shit. she made it happen. they love each other to the point of this sick strange self-gaslighting, a fervent and unhinged cognitive distortion. all men are good, wonderful people. all women are terrible, conniving, seditious, annoying.

and when did it become okay to just, like... say that kind of a thing? at one point, you find yourself typing out a witty and snappy retort. why are you spending so much time fantasizing about other people babe. but as you stare at the screen, some part of you pictures this man in public, saying these things to your face. his soapbox, high and mighty. his mirrored sunglasses and his empty life: tired and lonely.

what a sad and horrible loop he's locked in. he is terrible to women, so women don't talk to him, which he uses as an excuse to act more terribly. he blames this "failure" on women, rather than on his behavior. it cannot be that he is the problem (that the solution is to just put his ego down and accept women as equals) - he begins to invent a sculpture to replace the flesh frame of each person he sees.

it isn't just a woman posing on the beach. it is now a slut with a desperate need for each person to crave her body. it isn't just a woman yelping with surprise during something upsetting. it is a hysterical, unhelpful cretin who will probably make things worse instead of better. it isn't a person.

someone's very sweet wedding vows get moderate attention on instagram. in the comments, a man says good fucking luck you'll waste your life providing while behind your back she's absolutely fucking the best man. this will be so cringe in 2 months when she walks out on you.

you think - is that what you need to be true? is that what you need to happen, for the world to make sense to you?

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, headlock🤤, unprotected sex, creampie, a bit of fluff at the end

A/n: as promised, as soon as I came out of the cinema I started working on this! It’s not as nasty as I wanted it to be, but I’ll work on that🩷

Your bedroom smelled strongly of sex and sweat, loud moans along with praise mixed with degrading were bouncing off the tall walls, surely gaining the two of you a few noise complaints the next day. You were splayed in the middle of your huge queen-sized bed, head pressed into soft pillows and ass high up in the air as your boyfriend was dogging the shit out of you, making sure that your pussy was raw and thoroughly fucked.

You’ve been at it for hours - your sheets were wet with sweat and other bodily fluids, your ass felt hot from all the spanks Miguel generously delivered. Your throat felt sore from all the moaning and previous face-fucking, musky taste of Miguel’s cock still lingered on your tongue. You felt like a rag doll in your lover’s strong arms, too tired to move by yourself, but too greedy for pleasure to actually stop this sweet torture.

Miguel yanked your hips up higher, getting a firm grip on your waist; he shifted a bit, placing one foot on the mattress for better range of movements. A string of loud mewls along with shameless moans poured out of your kiss-swollen lips as brunette absolutely ravaged you - he pounded your poor dripping pussy with so much vigor that your body shifted forward with each thrust, heavy balls slapping against your clammy skin with loud smacking sounds. Miguel’s large hands moved to smack your pretty ass so it jiggled in his palms, relishing to grab and mold your pliable flesh afterwards.

- Just look at this greedy pussy, taking every inch of me like a cock-hungry slut. Bet you were thinking about it whole day long, huh? - Miguel rasped above you, his filthy words caused heat rising up to your cheeks as you buried your face even deeper into soft pillows, but they couldn’t hide your reddened ears form his sharp eyes.

Miguel leaned down, one massive arm sliding underneath your neck, so that your chin was tucked right in the hollow of his elbow; a few moments later your face was squished in between male’s bulking bicep and a thick forearm, trapped in a firm headlock. He put most of his body weight onto your small body, pounding your dripping cunt into the bouncy mattress, stretching you out on his mighty girth, making your eyes roll back in intense pleasure. You felt Miguel’s free hand slipping underneath your tummy, finding your throbbing needy clit in no time and massaging it brutally with rough fingertips, matching the roughness of his hips slamming into you from behind.

- Oh baby, you’re drooling, - Miguel tutted in feigned pity, his hot lips brushing the shell of your ear, making hairs on the back of your neck rise.

His words brought you out of heavy haze of pleasure, bringing some consciousness to your foggy mind. And, indeed, your chin felt cooler because of your drool covering it, some even dribbled down onto Miguel’s arm, getting in between your chin and his inner elbow. Your hands came to his arm around your neck, fingers digging into firm muscles, leaving crescent-shaped marks on scarred skin.

- Mig..uel, I’m-

- Shhh, my love. Don’t you worry, I’ll take good care of you, - Miguel shushed you softly, his hips slapping against your ass with even more vigor, making you momentarily forget whatever it was that you wanted to say.

He hissed as he felt your velvety walls clenching around him, the suckle of your pussy sent his hips bucking and forcing his cock impossibly deeper into your cunt. A familiar coil makes itself knows in the pit of your stomach - a telltale sign of your next orgasm approaching rapidly.

- Oh fuck bunny, fuck fuck fuck. Gonna fill that pussy with my cum, full and nice, yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? - Miguel rambled next to your ear as his pace became faster and sloppier.

- Pl..ease. Fuck, need.. it. ‘m so close, - you managed to stutter through

Your body prickled with desire and heat, Miguel’s fingers worked diligently on your clit along with his massive cock spreading you open, thick cockhead mushing against all of your sweet spots - he very soon had you cumming all around him, wringing a mind-blowing orgasm out of your exhausted body, your release leaving a noticeable white ring on the base of his dick.

A string or curses and quiet whimpers reached your ears as Miguel’s snapped his hips into yours quickly before stilling completely. Strong shudder ran through male’s massive body and, with a final moan, he shoot his thick cum inside of your fluttering heat, flooding your insides with his warmth.

Miguel went slack against your back, his body mounding against yours as he laid atop of you, making you squeak quietly under his weight. He chuckled airily as he rolled off you to the side, sliding his softening cock out of your bruised pussy. You whined at the feeling of emptiness, warm sperm dripped out in a small dribble, staining your slit and sheets underneath you. Miguel scooped you up in his big arms and maneuvered you to lay on top of his heaving chest, thick fingers tangled in your messy hair, massaging your scalp lovingly.

You took a deep breath, cuddling deeper into your lover’s neck, wrapping one arm around his broad shoulders. Your eyelids felt too heavy and Miguel felt too comfy to lay on, so you were fighting off sleep as much as you could.

- Go to sleep baby, I’ll clean everything up, - you heard a soft murmur, warm lips kissing your forehead in a comforting manner. You hummed in acknowledgment, getting more comfortable in Miguel’s arms.

- Love you, - you whispered tiredly, sleep heavy on your lids.

- Love you too angel

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love🩷🩷

[munsonthings86]

sunkissed

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: soft morning sex w steve <3

warnings: cursing, fluff, clingy!steve, established relationship, smut, praise, tipsy sex, oral (f receiving), penetration, no protection use

an: today (apr. 14) is the day steve and sunshine met ;) so i wrote something a lil special for them. hope you guys enjoy! *minors dni*

wc: 4.1k

steve and sunshine’s timeline

It couldn't have been later than six a.m. The waking sun shed an amber light that tinted your white sheer curtains, as they gently swayed in the brisk morning breeze. The wind blew harshly at times, prompting the sleepy boy next to you to nuzzle desperately closer to your heated touch. His lush, chocolate hair tickled your cheek as his head rested softly against yours when he abandoned his own pillow.

A freckled arm held you tightly against him as he spooned you, a breath that still smelled of beer and some other alcohol fanning your cheek. Usually, you recoil at the sour stench of liquor on people, but you couldn't help but to find it a bit endearing at the moment.

It was Steve after all. You found countless things about him endearing. Even his smelly little morning alcohol breath.

Sailing curious, feather-like fingers across his tanned skin that shined in the golden light, you stared at him in awe. His neck was still littered with stains of your lipstick from where you kissed him the night before. If you weren't so comfortable where you laid, trapped in this blanket of Steve, you'd rush to sneak a picture on your polaroid.

You knew exactly which one of your purses you'd want to keep the picture in too. It was only fair seeing as he kept his own photo of you in his wallet. And another on the dashboard of his BMW. And another on his bedside table.

It began getting hard to keep track of them all. Steve didn't mind though. When Steve would be having a less than ideal day, a rare but not uncommon occurrence, he couldn't avoid the grim ache of how much he missed you. It was such a treat when he would randomly stumble upon a picture of you somewhere, powerless against the blush and smile that would come.

The brightness of your room was blinding and unforgiving to the headache your hangover brought. Your hazy eyes stung when you tried to ogle the sunrise but you willingly gazed anyway. The sky was a gentle blue, cloudless, and full of melodic birds.

The moon still sat high and mighty, glowing, as it was being kissed by the sun's light.

It was such a breathtaking sight. A needle of guilt pricked you when you realized that you were witnessing it all alone.

Your fingers twitched when you thought about waking Steve, but he just looked too peaceful sleeping like this; lips puffy and dry from all his snoring and sleepy mumbles— hair perfectly untamed. Some rogue strands fell over his eyes, enticing you to gently sweep them behind his ears, careful not to wake him.

He groaned when you were unable to resist scratching at his scalp, eyebrows furrowing as his tired eyes failed to stay open. Not careful enough, apparently. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," you apologized in a hushed tone, apologetic smile to match.

"That's alright," he mumbled through a small grin, exhaustion weighing his voice down. Unfolding his body from the curled position he was in, his body tensed when he full-body stretched. You loved watching Steve wake up. It was like watching a flower bloom in real time. "What time is it?"

"Almost six," you responded after taking a glance at the dainty clock hung above your vanity. Steve's eyes widened as if he was startled. "Jesus, why're you up so early," you think you hear him say through his yawn. He laid his head down on your chest when he settled.

The hair that draped over his face was pushed back by your fingers so you could admire his lengthy eyelashes from this angle. "Maybe because somebody wouldn't stop kicking me in his sleep," you quipped, poking a finger at his side.

He scoffed in return before adjusting his head to stare back at you, "Well, I hope you find the guy who did that because I, personally, do not kick in my sleep."

You rolled your eyes, "Yeah, tell that to my leg." Steve shrugged as if you insisted on the matter, tossing the duvet over his head before trailing down to your legs. "What're you-"

The question was cut off with a muttered, "I do not kick in my sleep." He prodded at your thigh after each word to accentuate his (false) statement. Giggling at him, you waited for him to return from under the covers but he didn't move. It fell a bit quiet even. "Did ya get lost down there, Harrington?"

"Something like that," soft, sedative kisses to your hip punctuated his reply. It was so easy to be distracted once he had this view of you. Plump thighs that he wanted to sink his teeth into, stomach that he wanted to pepper kisses on, and a tempting honeypot that made his mouth water, on full display for him.

It was a trap that he unintentionally fell into, but was fully delighted to be in, nonetheless. You lifted the duvet from over his head, tittering at the mischievous grin on his face.

Pushing the oversized white shirt that belonged to Steve once upon a time above your belly button, he found comfort between your legs. A knot in the pit of your stomach formed at the tasty mix of curiosity and anticipation manifesting from all that was unfolding.

With booze still lingering in your system, your body was more sensitive than usual. Every little touch Steve gave you sparked electricity along your skin and, greedily, your body chased the sensation each time, clearly unable to stave off its hunger.

His hair tickled you dangerously close to your core and your body seemed to have a mind of its own, hips bucking up on his face involuntarily.

He simply smirked at you, indiscreetly relishing in the way you reacted to him so easily. So needily. Grabbing at your waist, the pads of his fingers pressed hard onto you, and you were sure the two of you would fuse. Your eyebrows pinched themselves together, tighter and tighter, the more impatient you became, mumbled pleas stumbling out of your lips.

Steve reluctantly broke eye contact with you to look down at your heated core that he was certain was desperate for his attention.

Pinning your lower half to the mattress, he left a few taunting pecks to your lacy underwear, loving the way your puffy lips felt against his mouth. A low groan eluded Steve when your nails tugged lightly at his roots after clutching a handful of his hair. The vibration from the sound was like a dull shock to your pulsating cunt.

As if the kisses weren't egging you on enough, the tip of his tongue started flitting about, sweetly licking at your clit and in between your folds. His movements were slow and calculated; giving you just enough but leaving much to be desired, all at once. It was becoming unbearable.

Any discipline you had left in you was long gone.

With one hand gripping Steve’s hair and the other twisting at a stiffened nipple, you tried to keep yourself steady as you grinded yourself against Steve’s face while quiet moans fell from your lips.

His tongue had quit its dance and he wasn’t kissing where you needed him anymore. Instead, he grinned; gawking at you through his eyelashes as you selfishly didn't stop using his face to get what you wanted.

It's almost too much to look at him.

His cock twitched and strained against his boxers, savoring the way you were getting so lost in pleasure. Steve caught how you struggled to maintain eye contact with him whilst you shamelessly flaunted your lack of self restraint.

The pillow by your head fell victim to the squeezing and kneading trap of your hand, helping to keep you grounded. Soft whimpers that poked through the silence of the room were nothing short of music to his ears. Steve always found himself captivated when you got like this. You were so hot.

It’s almost too much to look at you.

"Steve," you fussed. "It's too early to be teasing me like this." Though you were being sincere, you laughed a bit amid your desperation. Steve's carelessness to shave for the past few days left stubble on his jaw and the friction it gave you against your soaked panties was too enthralling.

"Never too early for that," he laughed, tracing a finger along the intricate patterns of your racy bottoms, "but anything for my princess."

He could never say no to you. There were no bounds to what his angel deserved. Your body was hungry and his mouth was thirsty.

Fingers wrapped around the hem of the flimsy material, he unveiled your needy core to his even needier mouth. He drew his own undergarments down with a single hand, the other finding your waist as he settled himself between the sweet temptation of your legs once more.

Steve garnered a mouthful of saliva before slowly spilling it onto your cunt. He watched, mouth agape, as it crept, long, wet and sloppy from the top of your sex to the bottom. It blended in seamlessly with all the arousal pooling around your folds and dripping down your ass.

A reflexive moan slipped from you when he blew cool air onto it, the sensitivity making your body react. He hummed, staring intently at your gorgeous, sopping hole. Any minute now, he was going to be drooling all over himself.

He dotted smooches to your bikini line, addicted to how the sounds you made practically begged him to ease the burden between your legs. Tongue swiping across his lips as if he was starved, he was certain that you were the most appetizing thing he had ever laid eyes on.

His dark, lustful eyes never left yours while he laid his tongue flat against your vagina, a pleased sigh luring itself out at the taste. The sudden contact hoisted your body off the bed.

Steve's eyes flutter shut when you let out the prettiest moan for him. It only drives him to devour you deeper, completely determined to lap up every drop of your nectar. He was already eager to feel you clench and shake against him as you came. The thought alone sent his body to grind his erection against the firm bed.

The satin sheets you dressed your mattress in were smooth and kind of cold on his cock.

Watching Steve like this was so hypnotizing. Him embraced by your thighs, hair wild, eyebrows knitted with threads of lust and focus, chin soaked from making out with your pussy, and fucking himself on your bed from how feral he was; it was all so dirty it left you speechless.

He didn't even have to touch you, really. Just seeing him be so primal was enough to leave you a moaning mess. Brainless for him. Fuck.

Steve's tongue instantly lands on your clit when he goes to tease it, being so familiar with your body and all. He was so hooked on the way you tasted, that he would eat you for hours on end, if you'd let him. He didn't tire. Steve loved the way he could send you into a frenzy with just his tongue. He got so much pleasure from seeing you in pleasure. It was so fucking sexy.

You were already close to your peak considering how aroused and needy you'd been for the past few minutes. Whining when he unlatched from you, he hushed you, running a thumb from your clit down to your entrance.

He didn't warn you before slipping in his long, slender pointer finger and you both let out a satisfied groan. While you moaned at the penetration, Steve moaned at the way your warm, dripping cunt easily dragged him in, gripping his digit. He used his hand to help you reach the high he knew was coming, curling and pumping in and out of you just the way you liked.

His mouth wasn't done with you yet, though.

Steve's tongue was frantic and slippery across your wetness. Your fingers were lost and running amuck in his brunette tresses as you struggled to cling onto reality. Legs trembling and chest heaving as your breathing got rapid, "Steve, Steve, Steve," tore out of you as if it was the only word in your vocabulary.

You didn't have to say anything else. He knew exactly what time it was.

"Mhm," he hums into you. The resonance from his voice tickles your clit perfectly and it's what you need to launch you over the edge. You slipped into a deep pool of euphoria, completely coming undone for him.

Both of your shaky hands held Steve's head firmly against you, giving him nowhere to go but right where you needed him. "Let it go, baby. Give it all to me," his muffled voice wavered a little as he coaxed you delicately.

If your hangover wasn't already making you dizzy enough, then Steve definitely was.

"That's it," he insisted, sweeping a comforting hand along your hips, "Just ride it out for me." His thrusts against the bed nearly brought him to an orgasm of his own but he was determined to save it for you. The way your hole pulsated, it was like it was calling for Steve to fill it.

The tight hold you had on his hair loosened as he crept his way up your body, leaving a trail of kisses behind the further he got.

His face was soaked and covered in an elixir of his spit and your juices, and some of it found solace on your own face when he leaned down to kiss you. The lewdness of it all turned you on more if that was even possible. His smile at you was dopey and naughty and it's wildly infectious.

"How're you feelin'?"

"Dizzy," you confessed, tucking some of his hair behind his ear though it doesn't make it look much neater. Concern straightened Steve's face in the blink of an eye, "Good dizzy or bad dizzy?" The pads of his fingers rushed to your temple to sooth you.

"Good dizzy, for sure," you kissed at his flushed, puffy lips in pure bliss. "Such a good dizzy," your hand trailed down from his stomach to his throbbing member. He was so hard it made you gasp. Steve tended to be harder than usual in the mornings, but this was different.

"You're so hard, oh my God," giggling against his lips, you stroked him agonizingly slow and steady.

"Well, duh. Prettiest girl in the world just came all over my face. How could I not be this hard for you?" His words hitched in his throat when your thumb spread his precum across the tip of his cock, groans rushing out of him.

He thrusted into your hand eagerly, but you soon stopped your movements, much to Steve's dismay. "God, you're such a little tease," he dropped his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling the flirty perfume that still dwelled on your skin.

From your ear to your collarbone, he showered you in open-mouthed kisses, whimpers and throaty hums pouring out when he grinded himself against your velvety ass like a dog in heat.

You could tell how badly he needed you.

"And you're such a little hypocrite," a smile played at your lips, "but you're lucky. 'Cause I need you just as bad," you purred, stretching your leg behind his waist, bringing Steve to hold up your knee.

He slapped his cock on your entrance a number of times before running it along your folds, coating himself in your dripping mess. A hearty moan from you set off sparks in Steve's chest when he plunged his hard length into you.

Your pussy welcomed him in with open arms, surely not wanting him to leave as it gripped him tightly when he pulled out only to thrust right back into you.

His and your moans harmonized as you both reveled in the fervor. A hand flew to the back of Steve's head and held him there, loving the way he stretched you so perfectly. His cock was just the way you liked it; thick and veiny in such a way that it caressed your walls inexplicably well. It's a sensation so good that it makes your mind happily go blank and numb.

You were completely at Steve's mercy.

Steve caught your lips when they fell ajar, kissing you deeply. His head went fuzzy when you moaned shamelessly into his mouth, tongues colliding. Your racing pulse thumped against his fingers as he held you by your neck. Pulling away from the kiss, he slid his hand down your chest and stopped right where your heart beat, reminding you to breathe.

Still, his cock trucked in and out of you at a pace that was so delicious. It wasn't too fast and was in no way slow. It was exactly what you both needed.

"Shit, you feel so good."

Droning, you were unable to form any words other than fuck, yes, and Steve. Your mind, body, and soul was burning with a desire and yearn for him. Eyelids low and flickering, you put up a fight to keep your eyes from closing so that you could cherish this sight of him.

Sweeping back his hair, his eyes fluttered shut when you rubbed at his ear, knowing that he liked it so much when you did that, especially in moments like these. Steve loved the way you felt around him, of course, but it was the little intimate touches that really drove him over the edge. Steve wanted to stay here forever.

Your t-shirt bunched up around your chest, leaving your bouncing breasts on full display for him. Your face pulled against his, breath fanning his face as you mewled and moaned and begged. Pleading, glimmering eyes never leaving him. God, how scenic. You were so dreamy. Steve almost wasn't sure if he was still asleep or not.

You grinded yourself back against him, husky moans sounding from the boy that was making you feel so fucking good. Every hard thrust he gave, teased that little sensitive spot inside of you, and you swore you were in some sort of heaven. You cried out, back curving in ecstasy.

"There it is, yeah," he grunted, resting his hand on the spot where your back arched. "Right there, baby?"

Nodding your head hurriedly, a plethora of "yeah"s tripped out of your lips. He thrusted into your dripping core relentlessly, feeling you clench around him tightly. Your eyes were screwed shut and your legs were shaking like leaves in wind.

That, coupled with the gratification Steve was giving himself earlier, he already knew he wasn't going to last much longer but he needed to see you cum again one more time. At least.

His hand ran down your sweaty frame to where your bodies met, drawing circles at your clit.

"I love that. I love this," he praised the way you clenched around his shaft whenever he touched your clit while he was inside of you. It was wildly addicting. Steve couldn't put into words how heavenly you truly felt. He couldn't believe that you were his.

The moans you let out were breathy and frequent, a sure sign that you weren't far behind your climax either.

"You sound so pretty, baby," he whimpered, nudging his head so that his ear was pressed to your lips, not wanting to miss a single little noise you made for him. His clumsy fingers worked tirelessly at your clit. You held onto his wrist as you became consumed by bliss.

His and your hips collide when you buck yourself back against him as your cunt choked down on his cock, body writhing. If you carried on like this, soon you'd be seeing stars.

It's a nirvana that your past lovers were never able to take you to. Not the way Steve could. Steve loved watching you cum. He'd do anything to get you to cum.

"F-Fuck, that's so good. You're doing so good, sunshine. You're so fucking pretty like this. It’s unreal. Holy shit," he babbled. If Steve didn't stop now, he'd surely explode.

While riding out your orgasm, you felt him go suddenly absent. "Why'd you pull out," you whined, head falling back onto your pillow in protest. But trust him, it's the last thing that he wanted to do.

"Because I was about to fucking cum," he whined back, laughing a bit as he squeezed the base of his raging cock. "When you cum you get so tight. It feels so fucking good, you have no idea, baby," he cooed, rushing back into you, already missing your warmth.

After your two orgasms, your hole was impossibly wet and hot and Steve's dick was absolutely drowning. It doesn't take Steve much to utterly crumble. He was now at your mercy, all whiny and needy and desperate for you, fucking you faster and deeper than before. His gaze never dared to leave your face. You were so beautiful it made his chest ache.

If there were a textbook solely dedicated to beauty, there was no doubt in Steve's head that you'd be plastered all over it. Just look at you.

"How're you so perfect, huh? Why are you so perfect? It's not fair, baby, I swear," his thrusts were becoming sloppy and offbeat. "You could get away with anything with a face like this." Steve Harrington. The king of praise. If his cock or mouth couldn't make you cum, his words surely could.

"You gonna cum for me, Steve?" His forehead dropped onto yours as he nodded, beads of sweat falling on your face and you can't say that you mind at all.

Steve loved having you under him like this. Loved having his hands laced through yours on either side of your head, your legs wrapped tight around him, keeping him in. Loved being able to lower his head just a few centimeters to have his lips clash with yours. He just wanted to kiss you and love you and fuck you like this all damn the time.

"Oh, baby." His mouth falls open as whimpers and moans and groans spill everywhere, warm cum spurting into you. Goosebumps erupted all over his body. As he came, his greedy, convulsing body pushed further and further into you, chasing down his high incessantly.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, keeping him close, while you peppered his contorted face in pecks that were gentle, in contrast to the intensity his body was feeling.

The repeated, grating clanks of your metal headboard beating against your wall slowed and soon quieted once Steve collapsed onto you, totally fucked out and sleepy all over again.

"Fuck, that was so good, princess." A smile pulled at your lips in agreement.

His breathing was heavy and you chose to calm him down by playing with the short little hairs that stuck to his skin from all the sweat.

The crook of his neck was in your face and you noticed the lipstick stains you saw earlier still hadn't faded.

"It looks like you have a sky on your neck," you lilted, finger ghosting over the area below his ear. The sentence made Steve's eyebrows scrunch together. Confused, understandably. Still, he was curious to know what you meant. "I have a what now?"

You reached for the compact mirror on your end table, opening it to give Steve a look, "A sky!"

He blushed at your sweet giggle. "These kiss marks kinda look like clouds and your moles are the stars," you traced them as you spoke. "See? It's a sky," you affirmed with a smile.

Steve only stared back at you with the most lovesick grin on his face. He still couldn't believe you were his. He rested his head back down on your shoulder, drawing invisible patterns along your sternum. "I like the way you see things; the way you think about things. It's so adorable and bright. I love your brain. I love you, sunshine."

Your heart undeniably skipped a couple beats at that. Steve always complimented you, but there was something about how sweet and gooey like honey those words were that made you feel like you were going to burst.

"I love you too, Stevie," you took his freckled cheeks in your hands, planting your smiling lips against his own for a kiss, still tasting yourself on his lips. Pulling away, you ogled the way he beamed, completely and utterly glowing in front of you, the same way the moon outside glowed when it was kissed by the sun's light.

The moon only glows when kissed by the sun.

💌 1 new message from jojo: smut isn’t really in my skillset so im a little unsure abt this lol. but i wrote this with a lot of love, nonetheless! feedback is so greatly appreciated!

[judasofsuburbia]

“what? hello?” steve mumbled sleepily into the phone.

“i’m going insane,” eddie nearly shouts.

steve sits up in his bed and scrubs his hand over his face. “woah woah, eds, what’s goin on?”

a high pitched wail is heard in the background and eddie is immediately cooing and shushing. steve presses the phone tighter to his ear.

“eds. eds, can you hear me?”

“i’m going insane i’m going insane i’m going insane,” eddie breathes. “she won’t stop crying steve she’s been crying for two hours—fuck, three hours. i don’t know what to do. i don’t know what to do steve.”

“who’s crying?” steve asks.

“my cousin. or my niece, maybe? i don’t know how it works. my cousin’s baby is here and she won’t stop crying.”

more crying and wailing is heard. steve has to hold the phone away from his ear when eddie gets closer to her. he can hear eddie pleading with her, trying to comfort her, to no avail.

“i need help,” eddie says. “i need help, please.”

“uh, okay. okay,” steve replies as he rolls out of bed and stumbles around his room in the dark to find some pants and shoes. “i can be there in ten.”

“make it five,” eddie nearly whines, anxiety pouring through the receiver.

“got it.”

steve’s tires screech into eddie’s driveway. his trailer is the only one with the lights still on and he could hear the baby crying from outside. he’s surprised no one has called to complain to the police station. though he’s sure callahan or hopper would simply hang up.

steve barrels up the steps and opens the door to utter chaos. toys and books scatter the ground, there are blankets and bottles strewn over surfaces (some definitely knocked over and spilling onto the floor), and baby clothes and diapers in the leftover spaces. and of course, a screaming infant.

eddie pops out of his room with said infant trashing in his arms. eddie has tears streaming down his fact too and steve’s heart just cracks.

“help me,” eddie mouths.

“uh, okay, okay,” steve is wracking his brain for any tips he learned in home economics about taking care of a baby. “what have you tried? i presume she’s in a clean diaper and…” god it was hard to think with the noise screeching in his ears. “fed her?” steve asks louder.

“yes fuck, i keep changing her and trying to feed her. i read her stories and rocked her and tried to put her in her crib. she’s so upset i don’t know why,” eddie’s voice cracks on the last word and suddenly, steve’s across the room. ready to comfort him.

“give her here,” steve says.

eddie’s eyes are panicky and wide but eventually, he hands steve the child. she continues to cry and thrash in steve’s arms so it takes a second for him to hold her properly.

“what’s her name?” steve asks.

“cheyenne” eddie responds, arms wrapped around himself like a hug. his whole body is bouncing and steve feels the urge to reach out and bring him in too but the more pressing matter is currently occupying those arms.

“hi cheyenne,” steve says gently. “seems like you’re mighty upset.”

she yanks at steve’s shirt with her little baby fists, definitely grabbing some chest hair underneath and ripping it. steve winces but recovers quickly.

“would your neighbors kill me if i take her outside?”

“probably,” eddie mutters.

“i’m going to anyway.”

steve heads for the front door and eddie goes to follow him but steve holds out a patient hand. “stay here, take a breath,” steve instructs.

eddie’s eyes well up with more tears. “but what if something—“

“then we’ll do something. right now, being around her isn’t good for you. let me take a crack at this, alright?”

eddie nods solemnly and backs away so steve can open the door.

cheyenne’s cries echo out into the night sky as steve starts to pace around the porch. steve starts to feel a little scared being alone with her but he’s more scared of what the stress has done to eddie.

so he decides to do it scared.

the baby starts to have this hiccuping breaths that pull steve out of his thought spiral. steve shushes her and props her up so her head is on his shoulder. he rubs her back with his hand, which takes up her entire back, and tries to stay calm when her cries are right next to his ear.

“you like music? 'course you do, everyone does.i don’t know how many lullabies eddie knows. his taste is a little more intense,” steve says conversationally as he continues to pace. “i don’t even think i know any lullabies. um…”

cheyenne cries with new fervor right into his neck and steve just panic sings the first song that comes to mind, “shake it up is all we know. using bodies up as we go. i’m waking up a fantasy. the shades are all the colors we used to see.”

cheyenne’s cries go down a peg, still loud but less wailing and more whimpering. steve’s heart is racing as he slowly continues the song.

“broken ice still melts in the sun. and ties that are broken can be one again. we’re soul alone and soul really matters to me.”

cheyenne keeps crying but it's getting softer by the second. steve rearranges her so she's cradled in his arms. he's blown away by how small she is. how helpless. everything must be so scary for her.

“i'm out of touch,” steve sings softly. “you're out of time. but i'm out of my head when you're not around. oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh.“

cheyenne's eyes open up and they're this big beautiful brown, just like eddie's. his breath is taken away as he keeps singing weakly. he doesn't even realize that she stops crying entirely and is just blinking at him, dazed.

it takes eddie slowly opening the front door for him to recognize the silence. he sits on the couch and bounces her gently in his arms, still humming and singing the occasional "oh's". eddie very slowly and quietly sits beside him.

steve looks up at eddie who is staring at him in awe. the same beautiful brown eyes are puffy and swollen, just like cheyenne's.

“c'mon eds, sing it with me,” steve jokes quietly.

eddie shakes his head. “i can't believe she's a hall and oates fan.”

“everyone is,” steve says simply and sings, “i'm out of touch.” he gestures to eddie to continue.

“i'm out of time,” eddie sings, looking incredibly pained to do so.

“but i'm out of my head,” steve leans his ear to the side.

“when you're not around,” eddie says flat, voice raspy from his exhaustion. it makes steve's stomach flip so he returns his attention to the near asleep girl in his arms.

they keep humming until she's fully asleep. steve leans back into the couch with a long exhale, his shoulders rubbing up against eddie's.

“you're magical,” eddie whispers.

“please,” steve scoffs.

“i'm serious,” eddie replies. steve turns his head to face him and nearly chokes from how close their faces are.

”i don't know how you do it,“ eddie mumbles.

”do what?“

”make everyone around you so calm. i feel like all i can do is make everyone stressed out,” eddie laughs weakly.

steve shakes his head. ”not true. just ask buckley, i stress her out on a daily basis.“

eddie chuckles and sniffles. steve sees his lips stretch over his teeth in a smile.

”thank you for coming over. i didn't know who else to call.“

”how did you end up with your baby cousin anyway?“ steve asks.

eddie sighs, tilting his head back into the cushion. if he leaned his head closer, he'd be on steve's shoulder. steve wishes he would.

”her mom is taking a much needed vacation and i promised wayne that he didn't need to take time off work to take care of her. that was a huge mistake.“

”you did your best,“ steve argues quietly.

”maybe but it wasn't enough.“

”hey, c'mon. don't beat yourself up. you did what you could and found help when you couldn't. it's not your fault this is her only form of communication.“

eddie smiles again and yawns. ”you wouldn't happen to have this album on cassette would you?“

steve beams at him. ”in my car, actually.“

”i'm getting it.“

they put cheyenne to bed with the big bam boom album playing softly on eddie's stereo. they stare at her peaceful form snoozing away and seem to forget how she looked not even a half hour ago.

”you should get some sleep,” steve whispers, nudging eddie with his shoulder.

“you're right, you're right,” eddie sighs. he gestures that he's gonna walk steve to the door. steve grabs his keys and turns before opening the door.

“thank you again,” eddie whispers.

“anytime. hall and oates always heals,” steve smiles.

eddie rolls his eyes fondly and shoves steve's shoulder. only, his hand doesn't move away. it splays out over steve's beating heart which is rapidly picking up speed. eddie's eyes slowly drift up to catch steve's.

“i was listening to that song yesterday,” steve whispers. “over and over and over again.”

“you must really like it,“ eddie says, a little confused.

”no. i mean, i do but…“ steve whispers. ”i was listening to it because... i start to go a little insane when i'm not around you.“

eddie's brows furrow. ”w-what do you mean?“

”can't keep you out of here,“ steve explains, tapping his temple. ”i don't know what to do. this is where i need help, eds.”

eddie's lips part in a silent gasp. he takes a step closer and rubs his thumb over steve's shirt. steve's hand comes up and covers his.

“i can help,” eddie whispers, tilting his head up so their noses brush.

that's how steve and eddie share their first kiss in eddie's living room, sleep deprived and unhurried. just four lips gently sliding over one another.

when they pull away with tired smiles, eddie murmurs, “in case she wakes up, you should probably sleep over.”

(inspired by @gothbat99 's wonderful steve harrington playlist)

[bigfatbimbo]

Silly request but imagine helping Bill "groom" his triangle self. Gently wipe him with a cloth. Carefully dip it in the little space between the bricks, can't leave that zone unclean! Alternatively, a classic soapy bubble bath. Silly straws included, what the hell, he's probably drinking the bath water and listing the chemical ingredients back at you while you gently rub him clean. Fun times

The Bug Collector

1.1k words,, Bill Cipher x reader

a/n — Procrastination killed my soul during this, I think it turned out okay, though! Sorry for typos, your girl is tired.

warnings — SFW, post!weirdmaggedon, as ‘fluffy’ as you can get with Bill cipher, he is his own warning, kinda toxic relationships, fluff and bill being pathetic

summary — Reader assists a recently fallen Bill Cipher in self care, despite his general all-mighty asshole-ness.

The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, a water-tight barrier most commonly known for muscle attachments, and its use to shelter and protect the insects gushy insides from its harsh environment. 

The exoskeleton of a triangle was for mostly for aesthetics, as the underneath was far more horrifying than anything in the harsh environment around it. Or so the triangle claims.

You dipped a soapy sponge into the bucket in front of you, as bill propped his feet up on the bathtub. 

“You conquer worlds and destroy planets, but yeah, why not draw the line at cleaning yourself.”

“Please, what better way to make use out of my new human pet— partner, than this?” He corrected loudly and purposefully. Then looking to the side, he mumbled, “And besides, kid, you have no idea how hard it is to clean between the bricks. Euck— So many blind spots.”

The first part was a throwaway reminder that he had far more power than you in this dynamic, something you’d picked up on Bill casually doing in his time with you. 

Being roommates with a butt-hurt demon, given the ending of weirdmaggedon, allowed you the privilege of being more cautious than previous humans were with Bill. For example, you’ve taken to keeping track of his repeated habits and patterns. 

On of which, just so happened to be reminding you how small you were compared to him. 

You jabbed the sponge in-between on of the bricks, “Ow!” He narrowed his eye at you, “Watch it, pal. I’m starting to think you’ve never cleaned a triangle before.”

“I’d hate to give that impression.” You softened your hold on him, “Delicate work, I always say.”

And it was delicate work. After his defeat, he’d been roughed up a surprising bit, powers even weakened. 

Weakened.

“Not too delicate,” he shot you glance. Guess he’d heard that thought process. 

Although, most days he’d seemed to be in a thought process of his own. Weird.

You cleared your throat, “How often does this even need to be done?”

He blinked, “Well, let’s see. Once every—“ he waved his hand around “—few hundred years. Very high maintenance, do not recommend it.”

High maintenance, yeah. At this point, Bill had taken to talking about some other topic, you hadn’t been really listening, something about intergalactic food joints.

Every once and a while he’d bring up something that happened with one of his ‘henchmaniacs’ before getting slightly irritated at the lack of presence in his life now, and changing the subject. 

Bill was interesting to study, you couldn’t lie. His eyelashes curled away from each other, like the mangled legs of a recently dead spider. His hands were very present when he talked, like most people of business. His body flicked side to side slightly at certain moments. 

You became more gentle naturally, taking care of every crevice, and for some reason Bill becomes gradually quieter.

“Something wrong?” You asked, not stopping.

Bill blinked, “Eh, been a minute since i’ve had a human servant. Maybe, I was thinking of other things you can help with!”

You sigh, “Yeah, because i’m your servant. As if.” In your mind, your thinking do the fact he was your roommate, in your house, eating your food. 

“Hey, don’t get all butt-hurt. You’re all ants to me, buddy, nothing to be ashamed of!” His eye flicked back and forth between you and the room.

Then you stop scrubbing, “Bill, I might as well be your landlord.” You know he can read your thoughts, so you make a point to justify yourself. Already weakened from his failed apocalypse, anything other than vague respect for you would land him homeless. Most likely, his response to this would be killing you, but there’s only so much he can do afterwards. 

He’d have a place to stay, but with no electricity or heating, and in his damaged physical form he actively does need those things. And trying to get a new human would be a hassle, and unlike you, no guarantee they’d let him stay there without calling the authorities.

“Yeesh,” Bill remarks, “Buzzkill… You are still a bug compared to me, though—“

You drop the sponge in the bucket, “I think you’re done.”

He looks taken aback when you pull away, “What? Come on, over the bug comment? Jeez, buddy—“

“No I mean you’re actually done,” you gesture to his body, now shining and slick with soap suds. “I got everything, there’s nothing else to do.”

You go to turn around before you feel a small hand grabbing for the back of your shirt. 

“Wait, wait!” He breathes, eye farting from side to side, “… You have to dry me off first.”

He looked slightly panicked, like if you stopped taking care of him now, you’d leave and never come back. Your thought process earlier couldn’t have helped. 

The way he scurried and gasped for you was reminiscent of panicked earwig and a rock is lifted up. The comparison should have grossed you out, but it kinda just made you feel a little bad.

If he was paying attention to your thoughts, he didn’t show it. This would have usually given you the impression he’d wanted you to be thinking the way you were, but he seemed a little wrapped up in his own head. 

“Come on, kid. Don’t tell me you’re gonna kick me out because I asked you to dry me off. One last thing and then you don’t even have to talk to me the rest of the night! Sounds like a good deal, right?” 

His slightly desperate looking sales pitch was met with a sigh, you picked up a dry towel and began to pat the soap suds off of him. His body slowly breathed in, making it look like he was sighing, but no noise came out.

You wondered then if he was actually touch-starved, but cut your thoughts there because this time he had nothing better to do then pay attention to what you were thinking. 

“Ouch, i’m not that desperate, pal.” But he was.

His exoskeleton was dry, but you didn’t stop patting him down. His eyelid shut slowly, and the spider-legs on them curled into each other once more. 

The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, but one of a triangle seemed to simply be for aesthetics. 

However, on some rare occasions, it possesses the same desire for love as human bodies. Only, when very desperate, of course. 

[kykyonthemoon]

Comfort Sweets

Unable to contact you for hours, Zayne decides to bring a box of macarons to your place.

ಇ. Zayne x Reader|MC

ಇ. Tags: fluff, soft fluff, sweets, comforting, emotional hurt & comfort, new established relationship

ಇ. Word count: over 1k

ಇ. Requested by Oreo.

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic

Zayne stood outside your house one day. A few beads of rain remained on his shoulders and hair, but the box of macarons he cradled in his hands was completely dry. On the way here, he had stopped by the bakery and deliberately chose for you the lovely macarons in this box. He wondered if it would be too sudden if he came to visit you.

Zayne had only reconnected with you not too long ago. Over the time spent together, he could say that he had become closer to you. However, he did not dare to dream too much. You vanished unexpectedly the same day. You did not come to the hospital to see him as usual. You had not seen the messages he had sent you in the last several hours. Worried that something was wrong with you, he decided to come to your apartment to check on you.

After a time, the door opened. He sighed with relief as he saw you standing inside. Yet, you appeared exhausted with unkempt hair and a pale complexion. You were taken aback to see him here; perhaps it was not the best time to invite guests to your home. However, you kindly welcomed him inside. 

Zayne set the macaron box on the tea table in the living room. He noted your sluggish demeanor and how you avoided looking at him directly. He spoke up:

“I brought you some sweets. Perhaps it will help you feel better.”

"I'm okay." You dismissed it. You acted as if Zayne could not see your red and swollen eyes, which told him you had been crying a lot.

“You say you're fine, but you're still not in the mood for sweets?” 

Zayne sat down on the sofa, placing one hand on the empty mattress next to him and softly patting it. He waited for you to get down before opening the treat box. 

“There are chocolate, oranges, almonds, strawberries, blueberries, green tea too…” 

Zayne went through each macaron with different colors. Just looking at them would make a gloomy day brighter. You chose the one with your favorite taste but had yet to eat it. Zayne saw you clutching it in your hands and asked:

"What's wrong? Don't want to eat it?"

“Thank you, Doctor Zayne…” You replied, your voice still wavering slightly. “I'm just a little tired…”

He put a hand on your forehead. “Your temperature is a bit high, but it's not a fever.” 

You gave a soft smile, took his hand and held it. “I'm fine.”

“Is there anything you want to tell me then?” Zayne inquired, knowing you had something in your mind.

You glanced at him for a time and then said nothing. You ate the macaron in your palm and remained silent for a long time thereafter. 

Zayne stopped staring at you. He got up and went to the kitchen to get water for both of you. Even though he had only been here a few times, he could remember the correct places where you put your stuff in your apartment. He noticed some new decorations in the kitchen.

While fetching water, he kept an eye on you in the living room. The usually cheerful girl, who always appeared mighty and could talk for hours to his ear, had become curiously withdrawn. He wondered whether something had happened to put you in such a bad mood. Or did he inadvertently make you upset with his dry conversations, or did his hectic schedule keep him from being with you much?

Zayne was terrified that he might unknowingly push you away. He had never dated anybody before, and he had never poured so much love into one person like this. So he would be furious with himself if he said or did something that upset you by mistake.

Zayne returned to your side once you had finished eating the first macaron. Your expression had improved a little, but the silence was still like a knife slashing into his heart. He wanted to hold you in his arms so much. Did you need his comfort? Or did you just want to be alone, and his being here made you even more uncomfortable?

Zayne was ready to say something, but you were the one who broke the silence:

Thank you, Zayne. Thank you so much for coming here... Otherwise, I'm not sure how long I'd have been sitting here sobbing..."

You decided to share with him, at last. Zayne listened patiently as you expressed all of your inner emotions. You had just had an argument with a long-time friend, who went behind your back and did something terrible. Such treachery left you heartbroken. But when you told Zayne, it seemed like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Emotions flowed out with words so naturally.

“The person who betrayed your trust is no longer worthy of your tears.” Zayne said, his hand reaching out to touch the corner of your teary eye. 

“Yes. I know... But I... I feel so sad and resentful..."

Zayne glanced at the open box of macarons on the table. “How about having one more? I know a girl whose mood would be brightened right away with just a little sweets, no matter how gloomy her day is."

You covered your face with both hands and grinned faintly. "That girl is so easy to coax!" But, in the meantime, perhaps a macaron isn't enough."

Zayne looked at you, unsure of what you were implying. Then you got closer, wrapping your arms around his waist. You rested your head on his chest. 

“She might need something even sweeter.” 

He heard your whisper. The corners of his mouth curled up as he patted your head. "That girl is quite difficult to coax. She wants sweets and cuddles all at once."

Zayne felt your arms tightening around him even more. You stated:

“The only person who can comfort her is Doctor Zayne!”

He smiled, tenderly like the way he was caressing your hair. He leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of your head. The talented Hunter did have weak times like these, which made him beyond pleased to be your supporter. He continued:

“Then every time you encounter something unpleasant, let me know.Doctor Zayne will always be available to listen and comfort you.”

[yanderenightmare]

Yandere Satoru and Suguru sharing a darling is what makes me OwO

Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru

TW: yandere, noncon, condescension

fem reader

It wasn’t really that you were weak… You were just unfortunate.

Unfortunate – to have been placed in the same year as them – Gojo and Geto, the two most promising students Jujutsu High had ever seen.

If only you would keep a lower profile like Shoko – and not be so determined to become the best – you’d be better off and not wind up on your ass each and every day sparring with the two boys – who really were the best. 

But something about their high-and-mighty attitude just makes them impossible for you to ignore.

The way they taunt and jeer, grinning their shit-eating grins – grinding your gears to no end – forcing you to try about anything to just, at least once, come out on top. 

Like now, in the padded sparring room – where you, again, could only barely find a foot to stand on – with what ground you had managed to keep thus far, visibly only thanks to your cocky opponent allowing it.

“You sure you wanna be a jujutsu sorcerer?” Gojo asked nonchalantly, his lanky arms slung around your smaller body with ease, resting his chin off the nook of your neck – unbothered by how you tried and struggled to shake him off.

You were dewy-faced and panting already while he hadn’t even broken a sweat yet. And it only aided in making your head grow ever hotter with vexation. “Take this seriously-” You growled back at him.

But he ignored you – the same way he ignored whatever amount of cursed energy you tried fighting him with. “I mean… I’m sure there are a lot of other things you’d be better suited for.”

After all… the last thing you’d want is for him to take this seriously. 

“Tch- like what exactly?” You bit out, hating his suggestive tone though needing him distracted with the conversation – thinking it would be a good stall to give you some much-needed rest where you stood, trying to hide how tired you were – forcing heavy breaths into smaller ones that made your lungs ache for air and your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Your weapon had already been thrown to the other side of the room – burst into a shattered broken mess of fragments you wouldn’t even be able to butter toast with anymore. And it hadn’t been the first one. In fact, the entire arsenal had been turned to splinters, leaving you to fight the boy who’d broken them all with only your hands to spare.

“Oh- you know….” He drawled, thinking it cute how you tried withholding your exhaustion from him. Pulling you a little closer to his chest – snuggling into you while thinking – his tongue out in concentration before calling out to the other boy. “Oh- help me out, Suguru.”

Geto sat waiting his turn next to the door, smiling like a cat with eyes closed. “Hmm… something cute…” He began before answering. “Like a maid.” 

You sneered – eyes lowering into a glare at the raven-haired boy who still, without a hitch, kept calmly smiling back at you.

Gojo offered a small snicker, adding to the ridicule, before whispering. “Or a housepet.” His voice, low and mocking in its whispering, yet loud right at your ear – with lips brushing your ear in a way you could tell he was smirking like his equally grating friend.

And it all just coaxed another spur of much-unrewarded effort where you once again tried your best at getting free – another growl spurring up from your gut with a vengeance. “Shut up-” 

“Don’t you agree, Suguru?” The white-haired boy ignored you again – though tightened his grip in correspondence – his long arms thrown in a cross around your front with slender fingers curling, now almost painfully, into the soft flesh of your midriff – having lifted your shirt enough for him to touch your skin directly.

“Mh, I can see it… doing laundry, cleaning the house, making dinner-” The other agreed, standing up with an unbothered sigh, taking slow and soft steps over the white padding to reach the two of you – his shape always much larger, growing like a mass of something menacing – dark and towering and shadowing like some great statue – making you feel so unbelievably small. 

Pulling his hand from his baggy pant pockets, you flinched as it thumbed your chin to make you look up at him – all your struggles gone and almost replaced with shivers instead – now with feeling the intense weight of being not just outmatched but outnumbered too. 

Feeling all but swallowed between the two, an inch of regret steadily crept about your gut, quenching what former fire used to fuel your spirit – leaving you with only an intense sense of defeat and fear.

His smile split with teeth, and you paled in light of it – breath thin as he leaned in closer.

“You’d look pretty natural wearing a pretty kimono… waiting for your man to come home.” He whispered, and you swallowed thickly in return, looking up into his slim eyes, who looked down at you with that small smile of his which seemed to carry a weight that felt crushing.

You tried keeping cool – tried grasping for any semblance worth of calm you could manage – even as Gojo’s hands, warm and soft, gently started messaging circles into your sides – his lips still at your ear in hot breaths and playful whispers. “Sure, it doesn’t pay the same way being a sorcerer does, but I’m sure a girl like you’d be grateful for pretty clothes and a big house.”

Geto hummed in agreement, his hand sliding from your chin to cup your cheek – with hot breaths fanning your face making goosebumps spring to the surface – adding to the statement. “And a warm bed to sleep in at night.”

You let out a whimper then, with lips quivering. The atmosphere had changed – turned thick with something else, something suffocating – something that left you faint, both speechless and breathless – whilst you warily looked up into the dark set of eyes above you and shivered at the feel of the teeth behind you. 

“All in exchange for some cooking and cleaning,” Gojo murmured against your neck, pulling your body closer while it shook unsteadily between the two of them.

“Don’t forget the other thing….” Geto hinted beneath his breath, his lips brushing your silently parted ones with a smirk, savoring that terribly troubled look on your face with an amused one of his own.

“Right~ The other thing~” Gojo purred, also enjoying your faltering, liking the feel of your heartbeat quickening beneath his fingertips.

“What thing?” You asked weakly – warily – as though scared of the answer.

Gojo snickered while Geto answered. “I think it’s better we show you this one.”

You were on your back the next second – your wrists pinned beneath the strength of Gojo’s fists where he kneeled above your head – his black shades slipping down his nose as he stared down at you with his smile and eyes gleaming in a look you could only call crazy.

Geto was kneeling at your other end, still towering over you – with big hands spreading your thighs, holding them tight to keep you from kicking. 

Your mind hadn’t really processed the possibility yet – hadn’t really allowed it to sink in – but it was dawning on you now – rapidly – while watching the boy lift your skirt up passed your panties.

“Hey! Stop-” You squealed, trying to bring your knees together to hide yourself. But you seemed smaller than you’d ever felt now, on the ground beneath the two boys who just dwarfed you in comparison.

“Think of it as part of training.” Geto offered casually while shuffling closer – his hands holding you beneath the knees, keeping you spread. “As a housepet, you need to learn these things.”

“And if you’re still adamant about becoming a jujutsu sorcerer… this is a realistic field exercise too.” Gojo added, his eyes big and ice-blue, glowing with something that seemed to seize you by the throat as he stared down at the growing hysterics on your pretty face. “I mean, with a face like this, I’m sure both curse users and curses themselves would want a taste before killing you.”

Geto removed his jacket, casting it aside. “We just want to help prepare you for what’s out there.” He excused, leaning over you with hands running over your chest, undoing button after button while you squirmed.

“No, please-” You shook your head, eyes closed tight in a desperate wish to wake up – the initial disbelief of the situation quickly leaving you every second of feeling hands touching more and more of your naked skin.

You choked on it, never having felt fear quite like it – soon finding hot streams of tears rushing down your face where you struggled to find air.

“We wouldn't want you going out into the real world thinking everyone’s going to play nice with you like we have.” Geto mouthed – eyes thirsty while looking at your cleavage – his large hands cupping your tits over the bra, making you squeak.

“Stop-” You sobbed, but like always, both of them ignored you.

“I’m sorry to say it-” Gojo cut you off, bowing down closer until his eyes were but an inch away from your teary trembling ones. “But the real world doesn’t care about you the way we do and won’t protect you like we will.” 

Geto’s hands slipped beneath your skirt – his fingers carding into the fat of your hips, smoothly hooking his fingers onto the band of your panties before slowly beginning to peel them down your thighs. “This is for your own good.”

[lessi-lover]

teenage drama II k.cooney-cross x russo!reader ~

(did you miss me cause i missed you) maybe a series 😉 ... but you'll never know? #even pests need love!

★ teenage drama II k.cooney-cross x russo!reader

your sister smirked cheekily as she expertly dribbled the ball past your much smaller legs, slotting it effortlessly in the net a laugh falling from her curled lips as she turned back to see you flinging your head back in defeat.

"lessi please can we play something else? football is so boring!" you groaned, tugging on your sister's arm before she went to collect the ball to play again. "i dare hear those words come out your mouth again! or you'll be banned from movie night, you hear me!" she threatened with a wag of her finger.

the blonde knew just how much you loved movie night, lately it had become one of her many threats to her easily gullible enough sister once she realised how she could manipulate so simply. she didn't really have that kind of power but it was fun for your older sister to feel as high and mighty as her older brothers seemed to be.

your older sister who would make you run around the garden until you both collapsed on the ground in tired smiles, your mother calling out from inside that dinner was ready, the older woman chuckling as she watched you finally catch a breath.

your older sister who would pick your tiny frame off the ground and into her arms as she carried you inside to the table, shaking you out of your sleep as you dozed of in her hold. your older sister who would beg you to join the games night after dinner she had planned for weeks only to fall asleep in your bed the second you dragged her off to your room.

it was safe to say being the youngest russo was easily the most dangerous spot at the table, although your older siblings always argued that the love you recieved as the last grandchild was surely enough to make up for the countless unwanted tackles and jabs you copped from them.

being dubbed as "the nice one" you tried your best to stay out of the russo family wrestling matches, seemingly always the first to attempt breaking your older brothers out of quite literally clashing each others heads together, your older sister only spurring them on as she cheered from beside a worried you.

"go gio go! watch out for his arms you git!" she would squeal moving to jump on top of the sofa quickly out of the way as luca grabbed his younger brother in a headlock, the both of them rolling around all over the floor.

sure you and alessia fought not much differently to your brothers and not much differently to those of your friends, when the older girl would force you to play football with her for hours on end, as she sliced the ball past you almost taking your head with it.

and sure the england forward could make you think twice before telling her your weekend plans to see some of your mates when she would then proceed to show up with her own friends blasting the loudest music you'd ever heard. a shout from her car that "your lift had arrived!" embarrassing you to no end as she cheekily waved you over.

it was not long after that incident that you got your finally your own car three years later and suddenly your lifts from the older blonde were not required, so the blonde had decided you now needed to have a coffee date every sunday to catch up with her younger sister.

although a childhood friend of hers always tagged along and that saved you enough to not have to hear her boastful stories in your ear ever five seconds, though you claimed the older girl hyped herself up just to get on your nerves.

and even if the clumsy girl could be the biggest pain in your ass on a good day, you really did love your her and people would say the two of you would do anything for each other, to the ends of the earth they would say.

but she really could be a pain in your ass.

~

like right now.

"alessia i know how to be an adult! i don't need you on my ass every five seconds!" you seethed. crossing your arms moodily over your chest, ignoring her offer of a piece of gum and focussing on the cars speeding past.

"helicopter parent you are." you mumbled under your breath, smacking away her attempt to give you a hug with a huff. "i heard that!" she whined, giving you an amused smile as she continued driving home.

you sighed looking out the window, your eyes following the curves and edges of each familiar house as you drove past. "okay i'm sorry. can you forgive me!" she grinned with a pout, gripping your wrist over the console as she dragged out her words.

"fine but only because i owe you a coffee and this will cover the cost." you answered begrudgingly, pinching her arm to let go as the blonde let out a cheer and turned the volume of the music up.

you had never enjoyed football growing up, you knew your interests lay elsewhere from a young age. so whilst your siblings played rough house with each other in the garden, you preferred to spend time on your own. tucked away inside with a book often whilst your mother made dinner, the older woman listening to any and every thought of your for hours on end.

and as your siblings weekends began filling with games and tournaments, you now sat in the crowd still buried in your book, head lifting every so often when you would hear your father's loud cheers. different matches every saturday, travelling to the far ends of the country to support your siblings, but no matter how far you were always there for them.

when your sister had made the move over to states, you'd missed her greatly and if it wasn't for your brothers convincing that you needed to focus on your studies you were confident you would have nearly failed your last exams.

it wasn't long before you finished your final exams that you made the decision to move over to london to start your career in the business world. suddenly things began to become clearer, you knew your path lay elsewhere from your siblings.

your passion for business and entrepreneurship had been a driving force throughout your studies, and the opportunity to start your career in london was too good to pass up.

you'd of course settled in easily to the busy life of living in london, smoothly finding your feet as you were quick to immerse yourself in the fast work environment, joining a large company which offered you the chance to learn from experienced entrepreneurs.

now back to present day, you still hadn't taken your older sisters advice to finally take being part of a footballing family in your stride and you were still adamant that your days of kicking footballs with the blonde in the garden were long behind you.

it was through your company that you were able to secure a job at adidas by leveraging your experience from your previous company and network in the business world.

your reputation for innovative thinking and partnerships caught the attention of adidas' acquisition team, who were seeking fresh individuals for their corporate division. it was only after a series of successful collaborations which drove impactful projects, you were offered a high role within the company.

however things looked a lot different now, your sister had now finally moved back from the states and moved through the ranks to what she described as one of the top teams in europe, her training grounds only a mere fifteen minute drive from your apartment.

but given your new company's strong connections with many football teams, you found yourself collaborating with arsenal, or more familiar to you; your sisters club.

failing to realise how much of a pain your sister still was you had offered to help coordinate an event for the team, told by your marketing director to bring your skills to the table.

"right we're here grumpy pants, do you want my jacket in the back? bloody freezing this morning." she grumbled, zipping up her own jacket as she turned the engine off.

"no i'll be fine thanks." you replied, giving your sister a cheeky smile as you stepped out of the car. you pulled your scarf tighter around your neck and looked around at the different fields.

"you look so funny!" you giggled, tugging on your sisters clothing all branded by her club. "oh shush." she hummed, playfully swatting your hands away with a smile. "you're just as annoying as i remember!" she grinned down at you, the blonde easily a few feet taller than you.

"can't say i don't remember younger you at all!" you said sarcastically. pulling up your phone to show her your lock screen, your background a photo of the two of you in the backseat of the car, probably driving off to one of her games out west.

you laughed all the way into the building, unable to contain yourself when the forward pushed on a so clearly labeled pull door and smashed into the glass, causing her to almost topple over.

"less! are you alright?" you questioned, trying to stifle your laughter as as a red mark appeared on her forehead, your sister with a pout on her face. "oh less." you chuckled, watching as your sisters frown deepened.

you reached out to inspect the mark, still trying not to laugh as much as you wanted to. "stop laughing!" she whined, looking a little embarrassed as she made eye contact with her teammates coming through the entrance. "it was an accident okay! my heads sore now."

"okay sorry, i'm sorry!" you apologised, finally able to suppress your giggles. "do you need ice or something?" you asked, pulling the clumsy girl off the floor. "i'll be alright, come on let's go inside."

"well good morning miss russo times two!" you bumped into lotte as you arrived, all of you entering the building at the same time. "lotts!" you squealed, jumping into the older girls arms as she lifted you off the ground.

"tiny! haven't seen you in ages, how's london treating you then?" she asked. the three of you fell into conversation as if no time had passed since you'd seen your sister's best friend.

"but i won't forget the time you made me pick you and gracie up from the dock, the two of you were completely shit faced!" she laughed, reminding you of the time you and a couple of friends maybe not so accidently drank way too much at a party and drunkenly called lotte to uber you home.

"my learning curve was thinking beer and liquor would mix nicely." you winced, thinking back to the hours after the party that lotte spent holding your hair back as you emptied your stomach. "fun night that was." in hindsight it probably wasn't the best start to your last year at school, but it was an easy excuse to not ever get that drunk again.

"yeah pretty fun night until i was woken up in the middle of the night to you and lotte at my window." your sister grumbled, clearly not as amused by the memory as you and lotte. she shrugged her jacket off up in her locker whilst you sat down on the bench.

"oh don't be a grub. can't forget when you and tooney had big night down in london." you chuckled, referring to the time her and the mancunian came home at four in the morning after having taken their first night out in the city.

"mum's got the patience of a saint." the two of you shared a look at that before bursting into a fit of laughter. pulling yourself up from the bench to grab your sister into a tight hug, your bond ran so deep. "i missed this tiny." she spoke into your hair, not missing beth's smile over your shoulders.

"oi russo who's the new lass?" a girl you recognised from your sisters instagram walked over, as you broke away from the hug. "katie meet my sister, she's here on behalf of adidas for a marketing event." the blonde introduced you as a few more girls floated into the locker room.

"nice to meet ya." she smiled, her accent thick as ever. "likewise." you answered, easily falling into a conversation about what you did at college, the irish girl interested in your role at the company.

lotte and alessia shared a look as they too fell into check as katie sat down with you. you watched as katie grinned over your head, clearly smiling at another teammate as you heard them behind you. "look who finally showed!" she chuckled as three girls entered the room, one of them tucking themself into her side.

you couldn't help but let your eyes draw to the youngest of the three as they put their stuff down, there was something captivating about her energy and you couldn't quite place it. that or the fact that she was easily the closest in age to you and downright the most beautiful girl you had ever seen.

caught in your thoughts, you barely even noticed the look that your sister and lotte shared over your head. "awfully chipper this morning, love." she joked as the girl grumpily rested her head onto katie's shoulder, seemingly not have had a great sleep last night. "not my fault dean was away and steph can't handle the pest on her own." she mumbled tiredly, glaring at a younger girl who you gathered was sitting next to steph who looked equally as tired.

"this is cait, arsenal superstar, australian international and most importantly my girlfriend." katie explained, kissing the top of caitlin's head before a hand pushed her face away. "shut up," caitlin giggled as she pulled herself closer.

"hi i'm caitlin nice to meet you, you're alessia's sister aren't you?" she spoke and you nodded back. "yeah that's me." you smiled, shaking her hand as she extended it. "less hasn't stopped talking about you all week, think she's more excited i'm here than i am," you chuckled.

"only good things i hope!" katie said back as your sister sat back down next to you. "mostly good things." you teased as alessia swatted your arm. "tiny best get a move on before those two show you a washing demo!" lotte said, patting your head hearing you laugh.

"not a pest." the younger girl grinned as she came back, arms firmly crossed as she moved across the room, flicking both katie and caitlin. "such a pest" caitlin groaned, as she winked at you.

"you must be kyra." you deduced, recognising the unmistakable australian accent, your sister having described the girls when you met for coffee earlier this week.

"one and only! you're less' sisters aren't you, been looking forward to meeting you." she smirked and caught off guard you couldn't help but blush at her forwardness, but before your cheeks could redden further you caught katie's eyes as she grinned.

but your attention was quickly elsewhere as kyra pulled steph's bun out of it's elastic before grabbing her in a headlock. "quick take it!" kyra shrieked as steph tried to grab her, her hand brushing yours as she tried to give you the elastic.

the australian so easily drew you in like a moth to a flame as her touch lingered on your hands sending a shiver down your spine as you heard her laugh, you couldn't help but wonder if she had done it intentionally.

you felt your breath get caught in your throat as your cheeks once again reddened and you struggled to stay focussed on what your sister was saying. kyra grasped for help with her attractive smile as steph took her down on the floor, the blonde begging for your help as your connected hands brought you both crashing to the ground.

pulling yourself off the blonde you sat up against the wall, herself with a smug grin as you were left alone on the ground. steph having been fed up and walked off the rest of the girls still conversing after a long two weeks apart.

"well, seems we have made friends with the floor." she giggled and you knocked your arm against her with a smile. "seems so." you agreed, the two of you falling into conversation.

perhaps it was the blondes cheeky smile that lured you towards her, or maybe it was the way she seemed so eager to meet you, or even the way her fingers so easily grazed over your own or the warmth that disappeared with them.

~

[honeydazai]

ok ok but hubby Fyodor gave me an idea, he’s figured out i get worried when his anemia gets bad so i fuss over him

imagine like,,, him using that against u. like if he’s losing an argument, or he just wants attention, he fakes sickness to get u to drop everything ur doing and come to his aid, u immediately feel bad so he uses that to manipulate u

feat.: Fyodor / reader

content: husband Fyodor, some manipulation but it's cute, Fyodor pretending to be a pathetic meow meow, fluff, sick fic

Fyodor is fragile, that much you're aware of.

Despite his quick mind, so sharp you reckon it could cut diamond, and his powerful ability, his physical body is still frail. His skin is pale, most likely since he spends too much time inside, hunched over in front of his many PC screens, providing him with no light other than the gloom of LED monitors, thin fingers tip-tapping away on the keyboard. His undereye circles are dark enough for you to seriously worry about his health, and the many blue veins visible on thin eyelids only make him appear more sickly.

The anemia doesn't help, either; thin lips occasionally turn whiteish the longer he insists he's going to take his iron supplements once he's done with work — when is he, ever? — and his nails, kept short not only for the sake of being able to play the cello, but also since he continued biting at them, are coloured blue so often you have almost forgotten what they usually look like.

Fyodor, despite being an internationally wanted terrorist, is fragile, and that's exactly why you're unable to stop the way your chest suddenly aches with concern when he goes quiet mid-argument, gaze unfocused, glassy, as he sits down on the bed.

This really isn't the time to worry about him, especially since, just a few moments ago, you were snarling at him, obviously angered for a reason that seems entirely unimportant right now — and yet you can't help it either, your concern an emotion that blooms in your chest so very naturally, given just how much he means to you.

“Are you alright?” The words leave your mouth before you know it; your brows furrowing as you kneel down next to him, one hand on his thin upper arm. Even through the fabric of his shirt, his skin is cold. “Do you need anything?”

“I'm quite alright, dear. I would hate to bother you, especially when you still seem to harbour disdain for me.”

Even his voice sounds frail. Guilt gnaws at your every bone.

“That's not—”, you protest, a feeble attempt, though you're quick to swallow the urge to start another argument down the moment he rests his head against the wall, eyes fluttering shut, ebony lashes against snow pale skin. “I don't 'harbour disdain' . I didn't even want to fight with you, it just — happened, but that's not important now. Let me help. Did you take your meds today?”

“Not yet, I'm afraid”, Fyodor says softly, and you're up on your feet almost immediately, making your way towards the kitchen to snag the offending pills, as well as a glass of water.

“You know you're supposed to take them daily with lunch.”

“That is merely to avoid forgetting them, to build a habit. The presence or absence of sustenance has no actual effect on them.”

Your eyes narrow. Fyodor allows a tired chuckle to leave his lips.

“Alright. I will try to take them regularly — for you, dear.”

Where, just a few minutes ago, you felt the urge to slap him with wrath — not that you ever would, not that you'd dare to, but the desire certainly is there whenever he acts all high and mighty, all-knowing, even around you —, your chest now tingles with warmth, with fondness. With love.

“Thank you. Are you feeling better already?” That's to be doubted, especially since he only took the pills a moment ago. Still— “Do you need anything? Maybe something to eat — yes, I bet you haven't eaten anything in a while now, too focused on work. You're impossible. Just lie down and give me a moment, I'll be right back.”

With those words, you vanish into the kitchen, already grabbing some vegetables. A quick soup is going to have to do.

Little do you know that, while you're busy worrying and fussing over him, there's a smile playing over Fyodor's lips ever so often, vanishing the moment you enter the room once more.

You really are too easy — though that's exactly what makes you quite this lovable.

OH. Oh, he would.. he so would... this is the most in character take ever...

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[gremlingottoosilly]

Your Loser! König × Krueger's Sister had me feral. Like, I genuinely think König would visit him just to catch a glimpse of you, always pretending to get a bit lost around the house he's visited for so long to "accidentally" catch you in the shower or in your room.

Unfortunately, your shared apartment with Krueger is small. It doesn't feel this scrawny and dirty when you're on your own - when your asshole of a brother is away on missions(you hope he won't come back) and you can finally breathe freely. But this place certainly feel crowded when he is at home - and when his friends are with him. This kitchen wasn't built to accommodate a man as giant as Konig. He looks awkward, crouching over your tiny fridge so he could, probably, get another beer or steal some of your food. You're the only one to cook here - thankfully, Sebastian chips in for food and utilities, his crazy military paycheck finally coming in handy...if only he didn't spend so fucking much on alcohol and weapons, you maybe could move out. Still, you kinda don't like the way Konig would always try to flaunt his wealth. Making you feel embarrassed that a man in this shiny uniform, with cool new phone and some expensive fucking watches is drinking beer on your old couch, in your old and somewhat dirty flat. Then again, he enjoys hanging out with your brother - so he isn't all high and mighty, you think. Still, he will always laugh so so condescendingly when you comment about new thing he bought for himself - and then Krueger would accuse him of being a "fucking show-off" and that the just wants to take you to his bed. You never thought he did - but Konig does look just a tad bit embarrassed of the accusation. He is always trying to touch you, too. Was shy and reserved at first, only barely grazing the open skin when he passed by you on a way to the other room - but he became much more greedy once drunk and with your brother too tired to do anything. Konig is dragging you to his lap and you, shy little thing, can only whimper softly as he touches you everywhere. Promises to be gentle and nice if you're nice to him. That he will take you away once you agree to be his - and you'd trust him if it weren't for the crazed look in his eyes. You liked him more as a shy loser, not the man who pounds your pussy with vigor that makes you cry, and then drags you to his car so you won't have to explain anything to your brother. Krueger probably wouldn't even care that much.

[wizard-on-whales]

Handsy

(NSFW)

You and James grew up playing music together so when you both become famous rockstars it's no surprise you go on tour together, but sharing a room with him starts to stir something inside you

Warnings: Cursing, Smut, Fingering, you and James arguing like an old married couple, slight degrading...this is incredibly filthy all together

Word count - 3k

✭-----------------------------✭

Growing up with James had its perks, one being the fact that when his band hit it off he drug your band along with him. He proudly showed your band off to the world, letting you open for Metallica on multiple occasions. And now that your band had paved a path for itself you were on tour with them again, this time also with Guns N Roses.

But being close friends with James also had its downsides. Since you two were close you always got paired in the same room together which meant every night, James would bring some groupie back to the room to fuck relentlessly while you were trying to sleep in the next bed over. Every night you had to listen to their insistent, overdone, pornstar type moaning, his name spilling out of their mouths like it was the last thing they'd ever say. You knew there was no way he was that good, you occasionally would watch out of morbid curiosity, and there seemed to be nothing special about what he was doing. The girls were making a big show just for a chance to please the mighty Het.

Tonight was no different as he and some girl stumbled through the door of the hotel room, clearly drunk. You were already neatly tucked under the sheets of your bed, in no mood for any of his shit tonight.

“Are you sure she won't wake up?” You hear the girl whisper to him, the sound of clothes rustling making it hard to hear much of anything else. The sound of James belt dropping heavily to the floor made you let out a silent groan, knowing you were in for a long night.

“Nah she never does, she's a heavy sleeper,” You hear him reassure her. You roll your eyes, not being able to deny the fact that you were entertained by his seamless lies. You hear the girl let out a small squeal, knowing your nightly headache is about to start. Soon the sound of slapping skin filled the room along with annoyingly high pitched moaning and James painful sounding grunts. After what seems like forever, you finally get tired of their sounds and roll over, grabbing the empty pillow next to you and throwing it at James as hard as you could.

“What the fuck!” He yells, tossing the pillow away from him and giving you an annoyed look. The girl underneath him covers her chest, slightly embarrassed that you were now sitting up and fully staring at both of them.

“Can I just have one night of peace…is that too much to ask?” You return his annoyed look, your voice raised to match his tone. He rolls his eyes, glancing down at the mystery woman underneath him before looking back at you. He goes to open his mouth and protest but you beat him to it, opening your mouth instead.

“Oh god James, James!! Please James!! Ooh, fuck, please!! OH JAMES!!” You pretend to moan dramatically, your loud voice filling the room as you grab a pillow and aggressively pretend to fuck it.

“I have to listen to that every fucking night, there's no way you're that good. Those girls are just over doing it to please you and it's fucking annoying,” you whine before burying your face back into the pillow, desperate for sleep.

“Maybe I should go,” the woman underneath him says timidly. He tries to protest against her leaving, desperate to find the words to make her stay but she picks her clothes up and slips them on, leaving the room quickly.

“Thanks,” James huffs out at you. You peel your face away from the pillow and give him a cheeky smile, knowing you finally won yourself a night of sleep.

“Oh come on, how could you possibly enjoy fucking all of those women? They're all so over dramatic about it,” you watch without a care as he slips his T-shirt and sweatpants back on and sits down on the bed, his body leaned against the headboard.

“Why would ALL of them be over doing it, I'm just that good,” He smirks at you, his words earning a hearty laugh from you.

“Oh yeah right, I've shared a room with you for years, there's nothing special about what you do to make them sound like that,” You tease him, convinced he's just another average rockstar thinking he's hot shit.

“Oh really? What if I prove you wrong?” He gives you a grin. His words registure in your brain as you realize what he's suggesting. You couldn't help the heat that rises to your cheeks but you quickly push it away, trying to find a smart ass comment to reply with.

“Alright fine, if I'm proven wrong then I'll do your laundry for a month. But if you don't impress me, you do mine,” you sit up, making a deal with him. He holds his hand out for you to shake and seal the deal. You climb out of your bed and pad over to his, sitting on the edge as you shake his hand, your heart already pounding in your chest.

Now somehow, here you were completely naked and leaning against James' chest. He still had all of his clothes on which made you feel more exposed. His hands wandered across your chest, giving the soft, plump flesh a squeeze with one hand while the other made its way down to cup your heat. He didn't try to make a move, instead he leaned his face further into your shoulder, his lips grazing your ear.

“Show me what you like,” His voice was low and husky, sending a shiver through your body. You brought one hand down, resting it on top of his, slowly guiding his fingers. It was the most intimate thing you had ever done. He watched intently as you dragged his finger up your soaking slit, up to your clit to make him stroke it. You bite your lip, practically drooling at the sight of your best friend's ring cladded fingers touching your most sensitive part. You continued to guide his right hand with yours, showing him exactly how you wanted his fingers to fuck you. Your left hand grabbed his that was still kneading your breast, taking his finger and making him copy the same circling motions on your nipple.

“Fuck, this is hot,” He groaned in your ear, you could feel his hard on pressing in to your lower back, causing you to arch and grind against it slightly. He let out a small grunt, his hands gripping you tighter. You whined against him, dropping your head further against his shoulder. He took that as his opportunity to gently bite the skin, leaving love bites in its place. You stopped the movements of his right hand on your swollen clit before guiding two of his fingers to your entrance, pushing them in. You let out a soft moan as you feel his fingers slip in, pressing against your walls. James takes matters into his own hands as he wastes no time, his fingers curling inside you at a rapid speed.

“Fuck, James!” You gasp out of surprise, not expecting his fast pace. Your slick quickly coats his fingers and drips out of you as he curls his fingers just right. You bite your lip, trying to hold back your moans so as to not give him the satisfaction that he's already winning the bet. James continues to suck on your neck, leaving several dark marks in the process. Another moan slips out of your lips, this one louder than the last, and you feel James smile against your neck.

“Losing already?” He says with a cocky grin, his fingers still working their magic against your pussy.

“Mhmmfp, no,” You choke out, the sensitivity between your legs already becoming too much to bear. While his fingers continue to curl in and out of you, he brings his other hand down from your chest to your clit, circling it. Years of guitar playing had clearly helped his hands gain their fast pace. The coil in your stomach quickly tightens and releases as you squirt all over James hands.

“Oh fuck,” You groan, squeezing your legs shut, making him stop. You stare in disbelief for a second, having never done that before but you couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that. Ignoring your shaking body, you sit up and turn around to look at him, slowly straddling him and lowering yourself onto his lap, his hard on pressing you through his sweatpants.

“Not ready to give up?” He smirks at you with a cocky tone. His hands grip your waist, your slick still on his fingers, sticking to your side. Despite the fact that he was acting confident, James' chest was heaving up and down, his breathing rapid. You ran your hands down his shirt, feeling his muscles through it.

“Are you nervous?” You whisper and hands slowly start to slide under his shirt to feel his skin. He slightly jerked at the reaction, your cold hands giving him goosebumps.

“No,” His voice choked slightly, his pupils blown wide like a deer in headlights. You smile to yourself, pushing your hands further up and giving his pecks a squeeze.

“Hmm…you sure?” You could feel his heart beating rapidly under your palm.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, shyer than you imagined coming from someone like him. You saw his cheeks flush pink, causing you to smile wider and lean forward, kissing his neck.

“I don't bite…unless you want me to,” you rested your forehead against his, awaiting his answer. Instead he just pulled you closer, smashing his lips against yours desperately. Although he had just vigorously fucked you with his fingers, this was the first time you had kissed him. He tasted exactly how you imagined, like whiskey and expensive cigars. The smell of leather and beer clung to him along with his cologne which was a very subtle and masculine smell. It made you crave him further, the sensitivity between your legs became a pulsing again, desperate to feel him inside you.

He pushed his tongue into your mouth, his saliva mixing with yours. He let out a small moan against your lips as you grind your hips down against his. You grab the edge of his shirt and pull away from him to slip it over his head and toss it over to the side. He wasted no time as started to push his sweatpants down, you helped him, pulling them off all the way before straddling him again. You bring your hand down between your legs, grabbing his cock and stroking it slowly. He lets out a groan, dropping his head back against the headboard. As you stroke him you lean forward and kiss his exposed chest, giving his nipple a lick before leaving a mark on his collarbone. He grabs your waist tighter, his fingers digging into your sides, sure to leave bruises in its place.

“Stop teasing and just ride me already,” He groans, lifting his hips up just enough that his dick grazes your cunt. You pull your mouth away from his skin, looking down between your legs as you line him up with your entrance, slowly pushing him in. You both let out a moan as he stretches you out. You were already wet enough that it didn't take long to adjust to his size before you grip his shoulders and start bouncing on him. His mouth drops open and he squeezes his eyes shut, a strangled moan escaping his lips. You bite your lip at the sight, your own whines spilling out.

“Who's the one losing now,” You let out a breath, trying to get a rise out of him. You lean back and rest your hands on his thighs, pushing your breasts out for him to watch them bounce. He reaches forward to touch them, hypnotized by their movements but you push his hands away.

“No touching,” You say with a smile as he whines in protest. His hands grip the bed sheets beside him to keep himself from reaching out and pounding into you.

“You're not fair,” He shudders. His legs twitch under you, his hips raising slightly, desperate for more. The angle makes it easy for him to watch his dick slide in and out of you, the wetness between your legs coating both of your lower halves.

“When…oh…when have I ever been,” You sigh, removing your hands from his thighs and grabbing your breasts, squeezing them together to give him a show. You watch as his hands grip the sheets tighter, the veins popping out of his arms as another moan falls from him. He gives in, his arms wrapping around you tightly causing you to squeal. He traps you on top of him as you feel him squirt a heavy load against your walls. He lets out a strangled noise against your chest, his mouth sloppily making out with your breasts. You dig your hands into his long hair, pulling on it as you continue to bounce on him, milking every last drop out of him, desperate for your own release. He becomes overly sensitive at the act, digging his nails into your back, his moans becoming louder and higher than you had ever heard them. His vulnerability causes your own orgasm to surface, the shaking in your legs returning as you cum on his cock.

“Jesus, fuck,” He says slightly out of breath, still gripping you tightly. You could feel him shaking pathetically underneath you, clearly a little embarrassed as he keeps his face hidden. You lift his head up and give him a smile, seeing the mousey look on his face.

“Did I win?” You ask pridefully, swiping his wild hair out of his face. The look on his face changes as his ego absorbs him, refusing to give up. He flips you onto your back, crawling over top of you and grabbing your wrist to pin them above your head.

“Who said I was done?” He leans down to whisper in your ear. He looks back at you with a smile before he immediately pounds himself into you, earning a loud shriek. His cum pooling out of you mixed with your slick creates a sticky mess between your legs, soaking the bed sheets underneath. James’ pace was merciless as he pins your body down and fucks you like a toy. You could no longer think straight as the pleasure overwhelms you, tears streaming down your face.

“Ohh god James,” Your moans became uncontrollable, unable to form coherent sentences.

“Gonna say shit now? Huh? Listen to you, this is what you wanted wasn't it? Talk shit about…god…about the other women I-I fuck…just for a chance yourself,” James could hardly speak himself with the way you were writheing under him, your pussy squeezing him tightly.

“Not so cocky now are you? Moaning like the braindead slut you are,” Tears continue to fall down your cheeks as his tip drags roughly against your sweet spot. His words no longer registered in your ears, completely forgetting about the bet as your body shakes under him. You feel another release build, squirting all over his abdomen again but he doesn't stop. Your mouth hangs open, screams of pleasure spilling out. He spits in your mouth before leaning down and biting your neck, leaving even more marks over your skin. Your nails dig roughly into his back, the scratches deep enough for him to bleed but he doesn't care, his own brain unable to think about anything but the feeling of your dripping cunt.

“I'm gonna cum again, gonna…mmmh..gonna fill you up,” Just as he speaks he coats your walls again, not as much as the last time but still enough for it to spill out of you. James stays put for a second, unable to move as he catches his breath. He gently pulls out of you before looking at you, carefully swiping the hair stuck to your forehead out of the way.

“I didn't hurt you did I?” He asks quietly, his voice filled with genuine concern as you let out a sniffle, wiping your tears with a shaking hand.

“No,” You reply, your voice rough and sore. He wipes the rest of your tears away before getting up and heading to the bathroom. He returns with a warm washcloth and cleans you up, being gentle around your sensitive skin.

“Are you okay,” You question, seeing the damage you did to his back and neck from your nails and teeth. He lets out a small chuckle, tossing the washcloth on the floor without a care.

“I'll be fine,” he leans forward and places a sweet kiss on your lips before looking around.

“We might need to sleep in your bed,” He suggests, looking at the soaked sheets underneath him. You let out a small giggle, before agreeing with him. He scoops you into his arms and places you on the other bed, crawling in next to you and wrapping his arms tightly around your frame.

“I think I won,” He boasts arrogantly. You elbow him slightly, a small laugh escaping your lips

“Yeah I think so,” You agree, giving up. A month's worth of laundry no longer seems like a bad trade as you snuggle further against his chest. Exhaustion quickly over takes you as you fall asleep in his shakey grasp.

The next morning was a little awkward as you walked into the backstage dressing room of the stadium you were rehearsing in.

“Jesus, did you get mauled by a wolf?” Your bandmate exclaims when she sees the dark marks covering your neck and the bruises around your wrists.

“More like a lion,” You hear Lars snort from behind you, you turn to see James walk into the room, covered in marks himself. His cheeks flush pink, along with yours as your bandmates figure out what happened and start to tease you like there's no tomorrow.

“Shut up,” James huffs, pushing Lars away from him before glancing at you. You look away, feeling hot as you grab your duffle bag and James’, making your way to the nearest laundromat.

✭-----------------------------✭

[3wavez]

Hey! It’s 🍉 ANON again! Thank you for answering my question! I’ll try to make this request short.

Can I request a SAGAU + Teen!Reader

Which is going to be platonic, of course.

Basically when (Reader) first arrived everyone was expecting an adult at least, but eventually they all just accepted it.

But (Reader) doesn’t want to be a ‘God’ or considered one, they always fight with people when having to be dressed in over-sized robes, meant for an adult, by the way.

Having to sit during meetings with important characters, or people praising them and giving them so many gifts that (Reader) eventually moves it all to one room, which can barley fit all of it either.

As well as having to deal with the characters being overprotective and babying them.

That’s all I wanted to request! I hope this ask reaches you in good health and spirit,

Sincerely, 🍉 ANON

hello 🍉 anon!!!

this was fun to write and I really liked your idea :3!!

I hope you like this as I much I liked writing it, and thank you for your request ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

-

They’ve been expecting you, well.. that’s what they thought before realizing you weren’t exactly an adult. You were in your teens, but, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re their creator.

But for you, it was way too much. It was irritating that they kept referring to you as “your grace” or “my creator” and not by your name or something more tolerable. You didn’t want to be some high mighty god, nor did you want to act like one. this was SO not on your 2024 bingo card.

Chiori was the one who brought you your first tevyat owned clothing.. which was a bunch of adult sized robes and a bunch of other fancy things that wouldn’t be your size. You didn’t really meant oversized clothes but.. isn’t this too much?

And not only that, you never knew you’d have to take action in important meetings. Meetings you had no idea about nor how to help the issue. It was too overwhelming, it was too much work.

Even during the times you wanted a break, you’d have characters gift you many presents. At first it was nice, but soon it just felt like too much.. where were you supposed to place all these?? Kaveh suggested expanding your room and began preparing to do so without you getting a chance to decline.

You felt exhausted, tired of the restless nights of having to explain to others that you disliked being treated so high up. It was annoying even with the constant babying. Just because they weren’t expecting you to be so young doesn’t mean you want to be treated like a little kid! There was so little time until you snapped at them..

-

Neuvillette: Your grace, it’s time to get dressed. You have a few important meetings.. your grace? Is there something wrong?

You: I’m not wearing that. I’m not going to the meetings either.

Neuvillette: Your grace.. it’s very important meeting to decide what to do— Umphf—!

You tossed a spare pillow at him.

You: I’m not going! Cancel all my plans, this is so.. annoying.. and quit treating me like I’m some baby! I’m literally 15!?

Neuvillette: placing the pillow back down. if you say so..

-

Your outburst slowed things down, they finally laid off with all the excessive meetings and finally tailored you some proper attire. They felt sad about changing some things, but they were insisting on calling you “your grace.” No matter what.