#i need to stop reading really good fics because then i want to DRAW FOR THEM

[almondcroissantsandink]

something soft based on this fic by @hero-in-waiting because I spent like a week reading it, saw a good pose reference on Pinterest, and promptly blacked out

[plantenjoyer]

I SWEAR I KEEP TRYING TO DO ART BUT THEN SOMETHING GETS IN THE WAY AND THEN I PROCRASTINATE AND THEN SIX MONTHS PASS

[caotictimmy]

I ATE THE WHOLE DAISUKE DATING HC AND I MUST SAY ALL THE BRAINROT THAT HAS BEEN STEWING IN MY MIND!!!

I think he's such a golden retriever bf 😭 like both ways— sfw and nsfw. HES SO DOWN BAD FOR YOU, he loves you so much and fjdkkd if his partner also has physical contact as a primary love language, he would die for headpats. Like genuinely, give this guy headpats be when you two are cuddling or when you are both in an intimate moment. You could reward him with a little patpat on the head when Swansea is not looking, and he would lean in to your touch a little bit before reminding himself, he needs to learn!! he needs to make you proud

NOW NSFW-WISEE.....

Praise kink goes so hard on him is insane

He could be eating you out with sparkles in his eyes, almost like asking if he's doing a good job, and if you do express it, tell him he's such a good boy, how good you are feeling because of HIM, he's going to go harder on you out of pure happiness—hes doing a good job!! you're like this because of his work and that amazes him

i could write more but my mind is a mess and im so sleepy wnwnkd.

🐁 out!!!

🐁 anon I love your thinking please don’t spontaneously combust. BUT IM SO GLAD THE HIM LIKING HIS HAIR/HEAD TOUCHED IS CATCHING ON OMG….

Sfw headcanons/thoughts

- Now that I’m thinking of it. I should have known he’d like head pats. LIKE I ALREADY GOT THE GOLDEN RETRIEVER BF VIBE FROM HIM.

- But he definitely loves getting head pats or his hair ruffled! Specifically he really likes it after/is doing something good. Like normal head pats are fine but. Knowing your giving him them because he did something good?!?!

- You guys have definitely gotten called weirdos by Swansea, cause you patted Daisuke’s head. Swansea wont say anything cause this man is emotionally constipated 💔. But he’s glad Daisuke has someone who Daisuke can be his true weird self.

- If your hand is somewhere close to his head, and he wants head pats. Daisuke will head butt his head against your hand to show he wants you to either play with his hair, pat his head, scratch his scalp, etc ect.

- I think like the first time he head butt your hand for attention was when y’all were cuddling. You had your hand by his head. And you weren’t taking hid obvious hints! (Slightly nudging at you). So well he just thunked his head against your hand. Ever since then he keeps doing that when he wants you to play with his hair

NSFW - DO NOT READ IF YOUR A MINOR OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW (mostly AFAB some Gn )

- Omg please pull his hair. PLEASE. He loves it so much. Like holy moly. If you pull his hair while he’s deep inside. HES COMING IMMEDIATELY! Like pull just right and omg. It’s like a switch in his brain. And that man is going HARDER AND FASTER. Like I hope to burnt curly Anya can lend you a wheel chair.

- Omg just imagine Daisuke pulling his hair back during sex. OMG MY GYATTTT. Guys I see the light and it’s Daisuke pulling his hair back.

-(AFAB) I just thought of something. GYAHH IMAGINE SEEING DAISUKE TIES HIS HAIR BACK TO EAT YOU OUT(might need to make this into a FIC).I’m Actually foaming at the mouth. Guys wait let me cook.

“wait!”. Daisuke said. Before rolling a hair tie he had on his wrist for working on machines. Biting it as he collects his hair. Tying it up in a ponytail. Before pushing his sleeves up. Daisuke Looks back at You with a smile. “Now I’m ready” he say cheekily.

- Guys someone please draw Daisuke with a sexy man ponytail please I’ll be in debt with you. PLEASE HE’LL LOOK SO HOT JUST TRUST MY VISON!!!!

-(AFAB) Omg and grip his hair while he’s eating you out. Like omg if you’re pulling at his hair moaning. He’s gonna feel so good about himself knowing he’s pleasing you. Also if you ever shoved his face in your cunt while he’s eating you out. You gave yourself a death wish. CAUSE THIS MAN WILL NOT STOP UNTIL YOU HAVE TO PULL HIS HEAD AWAY.

You couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like he couldn’t stop. The pleasure was getting to much. You gripped his hair. Feeling him moan in you. You pull his head back, letting out that breath you didn’t know you were holding in. You could hear him catching his breath before hearing him let out a sad noise. You looked down seeing Daisuke giving you these sad puppy dog eyes. “Did I do something wrong.” He asked, genuinely concerned.

“No no! Just needed-“. You huffed, “need..need a moment.” You said dazed. He paused for a moment. The glimmer in his eyes back with a vengeance. He starts to grin. “Did I..” He started. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, cleaning your slick off around his mouth. “Did I do good?” He asked. Daisuke happily looking up at you waiting for your response. His grin got wider as he felt your hand rub against his head.

Authors note: GYAHH I LOVED THIS REQUEST SMMMM. Like, reblogd, and especially comments are appreciated! This was so fun writing thud.

[jawbone-xylophone]

Okay time to be really opinionated: I think almost the entire TMA fandom writes Michael Distortion wrong.

Every time I read a fic about him people are emphasizing how swirly and elongated he/it is.

What's scary about Michael is that it is essentially the living personification of gaslighting. He makes everything else metaphorically swirly.

Sure there's "nobody would believe you", but most people who meet Michael think he looks angelic. He only looks scary out of the corner of your eye, or if he's feeding you just enough truth to get your guard down. He's fun to draw and describe as a psychedelic nightmare, but he is basically the gaslighting demon. It's a polite young man with curly hair and a beautiful smile who you could absolutely take home to meet your mother.

You only know he's a monster because your lizard brain starts screaming.

On a related note, its portfolio also includes dissociation and hallucinations, and nobody takes enough advantage of that– like, kissing Michael. Lots of people describe kissing Michael as a very physical event with notes of static and that tingling sensation of limbs falling asleep. A good start, but my argument: you feel him smooching your cheek and giving your hand a cute little squeeze, despite the fact that he's across the room ordering a coffee. It feels so real. You can feel his callouses catching at your fingers, but no matter how you flex your hand there's nothing there but air. You don't know if you just want it that badly and your eyes are lying, or what. He brings you a coffee and the sensation vanishes.

I know exactly what that episode about "the man who wasn't there" was because I've experienced it, and nobody utilizes that enough. Have you ever closed your eyes and tried to walk through a room, and been Firmly Convinced there was an object in front of you you were about to run into, despite no evidence of such an object when you open your eyes? It's a little like that. Any sort of relationship with Michael Distortion (not recommended and likely a way it has killed many people) would involve you getting comfortable with the fact that your senses are lying to you at an exponentially increasing rate, like a frog slowly being boiled alive.

Is he there? Is he not? Does it matter? You feel loved. You remember being told good morning and eating a homemade breakfast. Did you actually? Maybe it's a memory from a year ago you only think is from this morning. He's adorable even if his laugh gives you tinnitus. Maybe you've always had migraines. He takes care of you through them. Can you remember what he does to take care of you? ....normal people stuff, probably. Ice packs. You think he brought you ice packs once. You're sitting at a bus stop, going... somewhere, for a reason you're sure, and your body is telling you you're sitting on his lap but you keep checking, tapping with your nails, and the seat is hard metal. Does it matter? Maybe it really is him. You'd prefer if it was him. These cute little hallucinations are his way of showing affection. It's comfortable, even when the city shuts off your water because you only thought you paid your bills. He gives you his coat in the rain, and you laugh together and run through the weather, but when you get home you're holding a stranger's purse full of cash instead of a coat and you have no idea why. It's his idea of affection, though. He says he loves you when you ask about it, anyway, and don't you need the money now?

He's a lovely young man and the only normal thing in a world gone mad. The gloves only come off when it's done playing with its food.

[archivequinn]

hi! i wasn't having a good day today and reading your fic made me feel better. can you write a fic where the fem reader is sad and eddie is there to make her feel better and hug her and be there for her. i really need that right now.

This is my first fic request. I hope you enjoy it and whatever is upsetting you, I hope you feel better soon. If you want to talk someone, you can send me a dm. I wish you all the best and thank you for sending me this request. 🩷🙏🏻 Summary: When you cry, Eddie is there for you, your thoughtful caring and romantic boyfriend trying to calm you down.

“I'm here” eddie munson x fem!reader

You stand at the kitchen counter as the interior of the caravan fills with the rhythmic sound of the rain hitting the tin. Every time the knife in your hand touches the wood, the sound echoes in the void, but for you it is just a desperate attempt to drown out the silence. You are trying to chop vegetables, your fingers wrapped so tightly around the handle of the knife that your knuckles are white. It's as if the sheer strength of your hands will be able to untie the huge, immovable knot in your chest. But that tie… Oh, that tie won't move. It's as if someone has pressed their hands on your stomach, grabbing the center of your stomach and you can't breathe properly. You try to swallow, and each time you swallow it sinks in deeper, as if there's a stone lodged deep in your throat.

Your eyes start to fill at that point. Vaguely at first, just like a blurred curtain, but then… the odd drop hangs on the tips of your eyelashes, just before it falls on your cheek. You try not to blink because once you let go, that dam wall will break.

Your breaths are ragged and your face is focused on the blurred sight in front of you. “Don't,” you whisper to yourself. Don't cry. But the tears don't listen. First one trickles down, burning your cheek and making its way down. And then another, and then more… First silent, in thin lines, then freer, more uncontrolled.

“Please stop, Eddie shouldn't see you like this,” you mutter to yourself, your voice sounding broken, almost like someone you don't know. But it's so hard to breathe; even when the pressure in your chest eases a little, you still can't take a deep breath. Your arms grow weak, your shoulders shake involuntarily. You lean against the counter, put the knife aside and cover your face with your hands. Your fingertips feel the warmth of your cheeks, touch your slightly damp skin.

Eddie's almost home. You shouldn't meet him like this. You take a deep breath, this time managing to draw the air fully into your lungs, but the exhalation is ragged and shaky. As you wipe your eyes with your hands, you notice in your pale reflection in the mirror that your nose is reddening and your eyelids are beginning to swell. Your lips are still trembling, but you have to hurry. You flinch as the door handle turns and the metal hinges creak open. Your back is to him, you hold your breath. Knife in hand, the sound of the vegetables you're chopping echoes through the kitchen, but your hands are actually shaking. You shouldn't face him; your eyes are red, your cheeks still wet.

“Hey, sweetheart!” Eddie's cheerful voice fills the caravan, instantly interrupting the sad rhythm of the rain. You hear the door slam shut hard and his footsteps rush in. “I'm stuck in traffic, you can't believe it! But look what I brought.”

His laughter is interspersed with the rustle of paper bags. “I wandered around the DVD store so much, I wondered which one you'd like, but…”

He pauses for a breath, then adds with sweet guilt. “…then I decided to take it all, whatever you want to watch, okay?” You hear the bags being placed on the kitchen table, and then the deep silence is broken by another excited voice from Eddie, “And this is for you.”

The smell of roses fills the air, accompanied by the sound of plastic paper shaking slightly at the end of his sentences. Eddie's proud and happy voice is soft but sure, “I saw this on the road, I know you like roses…” You put the knife down, but you still have your back turned. You force a smile on your face, “Thank you, Eddie,” you say, but your voice is so thin and shaky that even you realize it.

You try to swallow, but you can't. Your eyes, though tightly closed, are still misty, and the tears begin to roll down your cheeks one by one.

Eddie's footsteps approach you from behind, as if he realizes something is wrong. “Baby, are you okay?” he says softly at first. But you still don't turn to face him. He pauses for a moment, not knowing what to do, then gently puts his hands in your arms and tries to turn you towards him.

“Hey, look at me,” he says in a calm but worried voice. You have to turn away reluctantly. Eddie looks at your face with his brown eyes and freezes for a moment at what he sees. Your red nose, your swollen eyelids and those stubborn tears rolling down your cheeks...

Eddie's expression changes instantly. Worry shows itself in the small wrinkles on his forehead. He puts his hands on your shoulders and starts rubbing them gently, his voice soft but unable to hide his panic, “What happened?”

A moment of silence, listening to her breathing. “Baby, does something hurt somewhere? Did something happen?” he says, running his hands quickly over your face and arms, as if to check if you're hurt.

“Eddie, I'm… I'm okay,” you say, your voice shaky and close to a whisper. But your lips are still trembling and this time you don't try to hide your crying. Eddie tilts his head slightly to the side and looks into your eyes. The worry in his brown eyes is blended with a soft patience. He holds you like a piece of shattered glass, gently squeezing your shoulders with his fingertips.

“Sweetheart, please tell me.” His voice is like a whisper. “What happened to you?” All you can do is look at him helplessly. The tears in your eyes start to flow again and without a second's hesitation Eddie pulls you to him and hugs you tightly.

His arms wrap around you like a cocoon, as if to protect you. As your cheeks rest against his chest, you can hear his heartbeat, rhythmic and calm, as if he's going to make everything all right. “Okay,” he says softly, kissing you through your hair. “Okay, I'm here. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out together. Okay?” And in that moment, it's as if the tight knot slowly begins to unravel. Eddie's scent, his warmth and his reassuring voice. The peace of being with him, even when you're crying, relieves some of the heaviness in your chest. Eddie realizes you haven't told him what happened, you won't tell him. Still, he doesn't ask questions. Silently, he holds you tighter. His arms close around you like a wall of trust, as if to let you know that no matter what happens, he won't let you go. He buries his head lightly in your hair and takes a deep breath. As that breath disappears between the strands of hair, his warmth envelops your whole body.

His fingertips gently touch your face. He wipes your wet cheeks, instead of trying to stop the tears, he lets them flow, as if he carries that sadness, that weight with you. He leans your cheek to his lips and kisses it gently, once, twice… then again. He leaves small, patient kisses. The salty wetness of your cheeks touches his lips, but he doesn't care. One of his hands slips softly into your hair, his fingers running through it, caressing the strands. “Okay,” he whispers, his voice so soft that even the raindrops sound louder. He places a long, deep kiss on your forehead. “I'm here.” Without letting go of you, Eddie sits up slightly and takes slow steps towards the bed. When you sit on the edge of the soft mattress, he takes you in his arms as if you were the most precious thing in the world. He holds you against his chest, your head resting right over his heart. His heartbeat… those rhythmic, powerful beats, like a safe harbor in the middle of a storm. He holds you tightly, one arm wrapped around your back while his other hand continues to stroke your hair. Every movement of his fingers is soothing, every touch full of patience.

And you, with your head on his chest, sobbing in the warmth. Your sobs shake, your body shakes, but Eddie is there, standing firm. Every time you shake, his hands move tighter around your back, every time you breathe, he strokes your hair more gently.

He pulls you into his arms a little more, presses his lips to your hair and whispers again, “It's okay… Come on, cry. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.”

Time stops for a while. The sound of the rain is a distant backdrop, nothing in the room but Eddie's scent, his heartbeat and the calm rhythm of his breathing.

Your cry echoes in his chest, but he still holds you still. He envelops you in his love, as if he wants to take the weight of the world off your shoulders. And you feel that it is once again possible to breathe in his arms, even if your tears don't stop.

taglist: @nicholaschavezslut69

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

hey love

I didn’t exactly know if ur requests are open, so if not then please just ignore this <33

I need comfort so bad, but I already read so much fics and find find new ones lmao.and don’t let me start with ur writing, everything u write especially angst is so good🥹❤️

so I have a requesttt:

Fem reader x Minho

where she has had depression before, but a he seemed to be getting better, like she talked more again, she ate better, she just seemed happier. But then all of a sudden it gets worse. Ofc min notices, but when he’s around she always tries to act happy and stuff. But one day he gets home sooner than expected and finds her sobbing and breaking down in the bathroom (lmao pls if ur confused, for some reason I always cry in the bathroom lol) and yea, I’m letting u decide how it goes then.

make it really angsty but with loooots of comfort too.

don’t stress with writing it, and if you don’t want to write it that’s totally okay❤️

take care of yourself, and have a great day/night. <3333

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Minho was meticulous. He noticed the tiniest details, the way your favorite mug shifted slightly to the back of the cabinet when you weren't feeling like tea, or how your laughter sounded softer, like it took more effort to push past your lips. And lately, he’d been noticing things he didn’t want to see- the way you seemed to retreat into yourself, the shadows under your eyes that your concealer couldn’t quite hide, the way your smiles didn’t quite reach those same eyes anymore.

But you always brushed him off whenever he asked.

“I’m fine, Min,” you’d say, your voice bright but fragile. “Just tired. Work’s been a lot.” And you’d give him that reassuring grin, the one you’d perfected, the one you thought could fool him.

He’d let it go, though he hated himself for it, because he didn’t want to push you too hard.

Although he feels that maybe he should have pushed you harder to seek help, before it got worse.

Today was supposed to be no different. Minho had a packed schedule with rehearsals and meetings, so you were confident you’d have the day to yourself. Alone, you didn’t have to wear the mask. Alone, you could let the weight crush you, let the tears flow freely.

It had been a long time since you felt weightless. Not the weightlessness that people romanticized, no. They simplest type of weightlessness. Like you could draw in a breath without fear of suffocation. Like you could close your eyes with the excitement of opening them the next day. The type of weightlessness where you could simply live.

It started small: an ache in your chest that grew and grew until it felt like a gaping hole. You couldn’t stop thinking about how much of a burden you must be with your depression; how your progress had crumbled, leaving you worse off than before. The spiral was quick and suffocating. Before you knew it, you were sitting on the bathroom floor, knees drawn to your chest, sobbing into your hands. The cold tile pressed against your legs, grounding you slightly, but not enough to stop the flood of thoughts.

You didn’t hear the door unlock. You didn’t hear Minho’s footsteps. The first thing you registered was his voice, soft and hesitant.

“Y/N-ah?”

You froze. Panic set in as you frantically wiped at your face, trying to compose yourself.

“Ah. Minho? What are you doing home so early?” you called out, voice strained. You continued to wipe your eyes, hoping that you could buy yourself enough time to look presentable. "Sorry I'm in the middle of-"

He didn’t wait to hear your response. Instead, the bathroom door creaked open. His expression when he saw you broke something inside of you.

His sharp eyes, usually filled with teasing or affection, were wide with worry. He crouched down in front of you without a word, his hands hovering near yours as if asking permission to touch you.

“Jagiya,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?”

Your chest tightened, and fresh tears welled in your eyes. “I didn’t want to worry you,” you whispered. “You’re so busy, and I didn’t want to-”

“Stop,” he cut you off gently but firmly. He reached out, his hands cradling your tear-streaked face. “Stop thinking like that. You could never be a burden to me. Do you hear me? Never.”

The tenderness in his voice unraveled you completely. You broke down again, and this time, Minho was there to catch you. He pulled you into his arms, his grip steady and unwavering. You found yourself curling into his lap as he leaned against the toilet.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured into your hair. “I’m here. You can cry.”

You clung to him like a lifeline, your sobs muffled against his shoulder. He rocked you gently, humming a soft tune, his hands stroking your back in soothing patterns. He didn’t rush you, didn’t tell you to calm down. He just let you feel.

When your cries finally subsided, leaving you exhausted and shaky, Minho pulled back just enough to look at you. His thumb brushed away the lingering tears on your cheeks.

“I thought I was getting better,” you confessed in a broken whisper. “I thought I was okay, but now it’s worse, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Minho’s gaze softened, and he cupped your face again. “It’s not about fixing it,” he said. “It’s about taking it one day at a time. Some days will be harder than others, but you don’t have to face them alone. I’ll be with you every step of the way. Because you're not broken Y/N. You just need a little guidance. Thats all.”

You nodded, though doubt still lingered in the corners of your mind. “But what if I-”

“No,” he interrupted. “No ‘what ifs.’ We’ll deal with whatever comes, together. Promise me you’ll let me in next time. I need you to let me help you.” He blinked at you, his mouth in a straight line. "Okay? Because I love you."

The sincerity in his voice broke through the wall you’d built around yourself. You nodded again, this time with a small spark of hope.

“I promise,” you whispered.

Minho smiled, a rare, soft smile that was just for you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment. 

“Good,” he said. “Now, let’s get you out of here, okay? The bathroom floor isn’t exactly the coziest spot.”

You let out a watery laugh, and he helped you to your feet, keeping an arm around you for support. He guided you to the couch, where he wrapped you in a blanket and disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned with a steaming cup of tea and some of your favorite snacks.

“Eat,” he said, sitting beside you and pulling you close, to where you two were almost molded together. “And then we’ll figure out what’s next.”

For the first time in days, the weight on your chest felt a little lighter, even if it was just temporary. With Minho by your side, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could get through this.

As the night went on, Minho stayed close. He didn’t just hover; he engaged you, talking about anything and everything- his latest dance routines, funny stories from practice, even the drama among the cats at home. The warmth in his presence was infectious, and you found yourself smiling more than you expected.

When it was time for bed, Minho tucked you in and slid in beside you. He didn’t say much, just held you close, his arms protective and comforting as he cradled you from behind. Before sleep claimed you, he whispered, “I love you, Y/N. No matter how hard it gets, I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time in a long while, you felt safe. Truly safe. And as you drifted off, wrapped in his embrace, you dared to believe that things could get better.

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

[hoshinasblade]

you are so close to gaslighting yourself into thinking that maybe, just maybe you have already told hoshina's mom in the past what your favorite tea is.

the problem with that thought is today was the first time you met the mother of your boyfriend.

you denied it in your head - for all you know, perhaps mrs. hoshina is just really a good at guessing. that, or you are going batshit crazy.

because at that very day, people you have met for the first time - people who may be friends with hoshina soshiro but are practically strangers to you - seem to be aware of small details about you.

captain ashiro complimented you on your blue dress after shaking your hands, saying it's obvious why it is your favorite color, emphasizing how it brings out the intensity of your eyes. even okonogi, who you know works directly with the third division's vice-captain, had a specific joyful aura on her friendly face as she offered to hang out with you in the future, mentioning how she is a fan of true crime documentaries too and suggesting in the same breath that you should try the pudding sold in the headquarter's cafeteria.

you could have let all of that go if only you did not blush like a teenager after hoshina's own older brother called you by your childhood nickname during family dinner.

"i'm sorry." hoshina's hand found yours, his thumb drawing patterns on your wrist. he knows you'd been on edge since morning, and although this is entirely your idea - meeting his friends and his family in one day - he wouldn't blame you if you're overwhelmed.

"they did their research on me or something," you tried to laugh the nerves away. it didn't work.

"ah." hoshina suddenly looked guity. " that. well -" he stopped for a moment, gathering his wits, choosing the right words to say. "i mean, it makes sense that everyone who actually knows me would know about you, really."

you wanted to joke as a response; you wanted to say that he's talkative and tends to yap for hours about stuff he loves so yes, people around him would naturally know things about you. but then you caught yourself because this is yet another confirmation of what hoshina soshiro had been telling you for months now - that you are someone he loves.

you did not know being known could feel this sweet.

"huh. do you reckon i can extort them for information about you next time?" this time it was your turn to grab hoshina's hand, and with your forefinger, you traced three little words on the warm skin of his palm.

[author's note: hello guys, i know i haven't been posting a lot anymore, but i am thankful to everyone who still remembers this blog - yes i can read your asks, yes i see that you've tagged me in a fic, yes i checked my notifications in this blog every now and then. it might take me long to respond most of the time so apologies in advance but please know that i appreciate all interactions from everyone.

also i dont need to remind you but i don't tolerate copy-pasting or reposting any of my works anywhere. i read a lot from here too, and other writers can attest to this as well - we know if a line or a paragraph from any of our works is copied and/or reworded. ]

[zordanna]

𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓮

A fluffy fic inspired from this old drawing I did🍃

English is not my first language and I hate writing so don’t expect too much. It’s just a small scene where Sebastian realises he’s in love with my MC, you can imagine yours there too of course! I ain’t stopping you🫡 enjoy I guess?

Sebastian yawned softly as he kept silently reading his history of magic notes while sitting on the carpet and resting his back on the couch, Eleonora was next to him laying fully on it while reading the chapter trying really hard to not fall asleep.

“Ugh I swear I’m failing this time”

She mumbled while flipping pages. Sebastian rolled his eyes and spoke back with annoyance.

“You literally have the highest grades of all the students in our class, shut up-”

Eleonora huffed and gave him a soft nudge with her knee in response.

“Just because the competition prefers wandering in the restricted section more than studying actual subjects. You know- instead of  forbidden ones”

Sebastian groaned and rested his head on the couch seat cushion to look at her better.

“You are a pain in the ass.” He breathed out glancing back at his notes pretending to ignore her.

“The feeling is mutual”

She ruffled his brown curls gaining a soft laugh from him , the boy rested one cheek on the  cushion and gazed at her while his notes ended up spread around the intricated embodied carpet of Russel  living room. Sebastian  glanced at the book and got an idea.

“I can read it for you, if you want, so we both learn something at least”

His proposal sounded quite nice to Eleonora, she gave him the book and set herself comfortable as he cleared his throat. He started reading and he could almost feel her gaze caressing his skin, Sebastian didn’t know how he managed to say the words correctly without fumbling while having that lovely pair of blue eyes staring at him, the warmth of her presence, her sweet scent of lavender and soap pervading his nostrils…Merlin help him!

On the other side Eleonora’s eyes were looking at his freckles, she always thought they looked like a starry sky , sometimes she would find full constellations in them while stealing glances at her friend’s features. She  glanced  at his lashes, was it even legal to have them so long and soft? The way they fluttered while he was  reading, the way the sun was making them shine with a warm orange shade. She was mesmerised. That’s for sure. The words sounded like a sweet lullaby rather than an actual lecture on how their ancestors channeled magic trough the years, her eyes felt heavy and her body a little too relaxed. 

Maybe if she closed her eyes just for a second…yeah that should do it.

Sebastian was reading the last paragraph when he heard  soft snoring coming from his right side ,he turned his head a little to check on Eleonora and a warm smile formed on his lips as he realised she had fallen asleep. He closed the book putting it away before adjusting himself leaning closer to the sleeping girl. He rested his elbow on the couch cushion careful to not disturb her rest, as usual Eleonora needed her afternoon nap.

Memories of their third year flashed in his mind, rainy afternoons spent napping all together on the same couch down in the undercroft between a mess of books and unfinished candies. Anne was still…well Anne. No curse, no pain just Anne, sleeping peacefully while her tiny head would rest on Ominis shoulder as he was  nestled up almost like a cat. Eleonora’s long blonde hair would tickle his nose as he often found himself using her soft curls as a pillow. They always smelled so good it wasn’t his fault they felt so comfy.

Instinctively Sebastian brushed off some of her blonde strands that were framing her face, very carefully as if she was made of porcelain. Her long blonde curls that once were left wild and free were now tied up in that blue ribbon he gifted her almost two years ago.

“You keep wearing it all the time mh?”

He mumbled softly more to himself than to her. The soft blue satin fabric was a bit smudged near the knot after years of wearing it every day, that’s what happens with the things you love most isn’t it? They change. 

Sebastian always questioned why she would refuse to buy another one, a prettier one maybe made from the most expensive silk with embodied details but she always said that one was just perfect. She loved it.

And he loved how beautiful she looked with it. He loved the way it always made her eyes stand out matching their colour, he loved how it swayed like a swallowtail when she would rush around the hallways late for classes trying to not trip on other students. Swallows are a sign of hope and freedom, he was certain that if she had to be an animal she would be one of them. She was always there trying to see the good side of everything, which in his darker days was both infuriating and yet comforting. It was reassuring  having her slapping some sense in his thick skull sometimes, he couldn’t deny it.

He also loved that, her scolding tone, her stubbornness and resolution whenever he was acting like a complete ass. He loved the way she would ruffle his hair to annoy him, he loved how her soft hands were making him feel butterflies flying around his stomach every damn time…

Sebastian’s chocolate brown eyes were fixed on Eleonora’s delicate face as the sudden realisation hit him like a whole bombarda in his chest.

He was falling in love. No. He was in love. Utterly. Undeniably in love. 

He didn’t realise his face was few centimetres away from hers till now, his lips dangerously close to hers. Before doing something stupid and reckless he pulled away slightly and took a moment to gain his composure, his eyes wandered around the luxurious living room of her family’s manor, the paintings of the Russels were almost staring at him, judging him with their cold gaze.

Who was he trying to fool? He was nobody compared to her family, an orphan living in a cottage with his grumpy uncle, it would never be fair to her. Knowing her parents Eleonora had probably her life planned since day one, as her older sister Ofelia once told him they lived in a golden cage with all comforts but still a cage. It was all doomed from the start so- for now it was better to suppress those feelings. To pretend they never had been there.

For now having her friendship was more than he could hope for, Sebastian looked at the big wood carved clock and checked the time, it was getting pretty late, he sighed and with a soft spoken tone called for her.

“Hey…Birdie”

The world would never want them together, that’s what he was telling himself, yet when he saw those blue eyes and that warm sleepy smile greeting him Sebastian thought that the world could burn or destroy itself in that exact moment.

The world would know Lady Eleonora Russel but Birdie. Birdie was just for him and that was all he needed.

“Birdie? What am I a chicken?”

Eleonora said with a snort while sitting up and stretching a bit letting a yawn escape her lips.

“No more like a goose.”

Sebastian retorted with a cheeky grin. She had no idea of what passed by his mind all the short time she was asleep.

“Ouch- did I snore loud?”

“Terribly. I mistaken you for a troll or something at some point.”

Eleonora laughed at  the statement and crossed her arms in a proud stance. 

“Was I annoying you?”

“Terribly.” Sebastian said faking an exasperated sigh.

“Good. I can consider my mission accomplished then”

She added with a chuckle while they both got up to walk towards the kitchen for stealing a snack or two. Luckily her parents wouldn’t be back till next early morning considering their habit to attend balls and ceremonies  maintaining their high social status connections. That was a relief for the two of them but also for the servitude. The house elves were quite fond of Eleonora, a true ray of sunshine in that toxic household.

The afternoon passed by with their usual playful bantering like any other. It was better pretending nothing happened for Sebastian, it was for the best really.

Was it? Only time would tell. For now they were just fifteen, sitting on the kitchen counter munching a stolen slice of lemon tart while yapping about how they were both convinced Professor Garlick was hiding “special plants” somewhere in the greenhouse. 

It was a normal  spring afternoon during the end of the 19th century.

Flowers were blooming , birds were chirping and the air smelled like clean laundry and soap.

Winter was just a distant thought, none of them could ever imagine how everything  would irreversibly change in few months.

Moments like these would be soon turned into distant faded happy memories but for now…it was all that mattered.

[zayne-li]

5 Fun Facts About the Prostate!

I finally finished it. I'm not going to beta read it bc this thing has been causing me so much pain lmao.

Zayne gets pegged. That's it. That's the fic. Enjoy. NSFW, MDNI

3.8k words

It's one of those few times when I have Zayne on my lap, instead of the other way around when I finally get the courage to ask about something I've been thinking about... For a while. 

His hands are braced on the back of the couch on either side of me, and he's been tugged closer and closer while we kiss, thanks to my grip on his tie that I refuse to relinquish. Still, even though he's straddling me, Zayne doesn't drop his weight onto my lap, maybe being slightly afraid he'll crush me, or hinder the circulation in my legs or something. 

I lick into his mouth, and he lets me (the same way he lets me do a lot of things. I'm starting to get the message.), and my other hand at his hip trails a dangerous path around to the frankly amazing curve of his ass, only accentuated by the tight slacks he's wearing, and I squeeze. 

Zayne makes a small sound in the back of his throat, and jolts a little in my lap, but it doesn't seem like he's trying to get away as our foreheads press together and our hot breath mingles. "Zayne..." I say, and trace my finger down the seam of the back of his pants, drawing a line to where I can likely assume my prize would be, and he stiffens in my arms, brows furrowing slightly. I'm not sure if it's from confusion or discomfort, so I stop there, though I really want to push harder into the unyielding fabric. 

"I really want to fuck you." 

He blinks, and the flush already on his cheeks from our heavy makeout session darkens even further. From this angle, so close to him, I can physically see his pupils grow in size, blowing out the molten gold and green in his eyes. 

"... You what?" His voice is still low, and rough, though surprised. And then, after another long moment of us looking into each others eyes, he seems to fully realize what exactly it is I'm asking, as I let go of his tie and grab his other cheek with that same hand, using my grip on the plush pillow of his ass to pull him downwards and finally, more fully onto my lap. 

"You're serious." Zayne says, almost in disbelief, the chuckle present in the words themselves. 

So... He definitely doesn't hate the idea. 

--

But of course, because he's Zayne, he spends a few weeks doing research. Purely academic, he tells me, just so he knows what he's getting into and how to be prepared. Because he's Zayne, and he'll never deny me anything. Maybe he'll hate it, he doesn't know yet, but he will, always, without fail, indulge me at least once.

Another reason I'm starting to get suspicious is that when we are in bed, so far, he's really only made an effort to cater to my own needs, instead of his own. The sex is great, yes, and having a boyfriend who gets on his knees for me multiple times a week without ever once being asked too? Phenomenal. 

And clearly, he loves eating me out, fingering me, judging by the way the act seems to wreck him almost as much as it wrecks me (the first time he did it, I'm almost certain he came in his pants, because afterwards he insisted he was fine, that he didn't need anything from me, and then made a hasty retreat to the bathroom. When he returned, he said it was because he wanted to clean me up).

I'm not an idiot. Zayne is a powerful man, who bears a lot of responsibility on his shoulders, and he considers me to be one of them, most of the time. At least in bed, well... Maybe he can let me take care of him instead. Because I want to. He is very good at following orders, after all(I've noticed on more than one occasion). And I have been wondering more and more often... Just how far this tendency of his goes.

--

"How do you want to do this? On your back, or all fours?" I tilt my head slightly at him, pulling away from a sloppy kiss that has his lips shining with our shared spit. Zayne's ears are pink. He opens his mouth, but seems to have no immediate answer. "Or do you want me to bend you over the bed? ... Or do you want me to pick?"

"You choose. You're the one who wants this so badly." He tries to keep up his bravado, but at my final suggestion, I feel him twitch beneath me, though he's still dressed from the waist down. I'm the one who's more naked right now, having lost my shirt and shorts some while ago, not long after he closed the door behind him. He barely had enough time to toe off his shoes and set his bag down before I was crowding him against the wall, determined to make sure tonight went a very certain way. 

And now, with him shirtless, blushing, laying back in the bed and letting me touch him all over... I think I might get my way tonight. I just need to be careful... I don't want to scare him off of being this vulnerable for me. 

"Well," I begin, my voice light and teasing as I let my lips turn their attention to his throat and chest, kissing his Adams apple and collarbone, deliberately taking my time down to his tiny, pink nipples, while my fingers work at his belt and pants, sliding down his legs and discarding them somewhere on the floor, "I mean if I could really choose... We'd be doing this in your office and I'd have you over the desk. And you'd still have your lab coat on."

Zayne scoffs, "That one may have to remain in your fantasies, I fear. I do have a reputation to uphold." But I feel his cock twitching again, twice this time, belying the fact that he finds that thought arousing as well, though he's doing his best to scold me, despite the position he's allowing himself to be forced into. 

"Boo," I murmur, and bite his nipple softly. In return, I'm rewarded with one of his soft little whimpers, and he'd scowl at that too, if I said it to him. "On your back, then. I want to see your pretty face while I fuck you. Surely you understand the appeal?" 

Zayne's eyes glimmer with mirth, and I get another sound of amusement from him, though he says nothing else, giving me his consent as I feel him fully relax beneath me, and the fingers he has tangled in my hair move down to my thigh, and then knee, urging it upwards so he can spread his legs for me while I suck bruises into his chest. 

"Ready?" I ask, raising my head to meet his eyes, now dark with desire, half lidded, his bangs hanging almost entirely over one of them. He nods, and once I've managed to lube up my fingers, with the bottle prepared (in advance, of course) nearby, I raise one of his legs at the knee, bending it upwards as I reach down between them, bypassing his cock to slick up his entrance. Zayne jolts at the sensation, and I haven't even pushed in yet, only pressed against the pink pucker, spreading the wetness on my fingers around it. 

"Have you tried anything on your own?" His cock, I notice, is already half hard against his stomach, pretty and pink and perfect. 

"No... Other than... Well, I purchased an enema bulb, but that wasn't..." Zayne attempts to explain, and I begin a slow and gentle push into him with my index finger, and his brows furrow at the sensation. "Given how excited you were, I assumed you would..." He sucks in a breath, and his eyes close, "would want the pleasure."

"You're right." I confirm, and rub my other hand across his thigh, where I'm holding it, "Stop talking though. If we're ever going to get anywhere, you need to relax." Zayne is clearly tense, along almost every line of his body, and I try to distract him with gentle touches, along his hips and ribs. "Breathe, honey... Just breathe.... Relax." I murmur to him, and he makes a clear attempt to obey, though the breath he takes shudders on the way in and out. 

"Relax..." I press a bit deeper, and feel his hole clench around my finger, trying to push me out, and so I stay right there until his walls ease up. I wipe the furrow from his brow, and he finally meets my gaze again, his expression clearly unsure. 

"Remember, like I said, if you hate this, we never have to do it again." Finally, I get my finger all the way inside, and he's so tight around me just from this, I'm suddenly unsure how far we'll be able to get tonight. 

"How does it feel?" 

Zayne is clearly trying to relax his body, sinking further into the mattress, but his ass is not a muscle he's used to paying conscious attention to, and so he's clearly finding it difficult, though I do feel him start to relax more fully after some time, as I just wiggle a bit inside. 

"Strange..." He begins, and then gasps as apparently, I twist and crook my finger in just the right spot, and his previously flagging erection grows just a bit, right before my eyes. He looks down at me with a mixture of surprise and curiosity, mouth open as I crook my finger again, and he grunts, his warm hole fluttering. "That was..." Zayne tries, seemingly conflicted by the sensation. 

"Your prostate? I would assume, based on your reaction." I smile, nodding down towards his cock that has begun to fill out. "Does it feel good?"

"... I don't know. I do know it's a pleasure point in the male body." 

"Zayne, you are not about to give me an anatomy lesson right now." I move my finger, pull it out, drizzle more lube over it, and then press back in, starting a slow rhythm, hopefully to help him get more used to the sensation. For my troubles, I get another little sound out of him, this one sounding more pleasured than confused. 

"You don't--" He grunts again, turns a little pinker, and rolls his head on the pillow while I fuck him on my finger. His cock I am ignoring on purpose, knowing that would only distract him. "You don't think my lectures are sexy?" 

"Everything about you is sexy. Would it help you relax if you did give me a lecture on all the functions of the prostate while I get your ass ready for my dick?"

The slide of my fingers in and out of him becomes easier as he lays back and groans, so with another drizzle of lube, gently, I try to press my middle finger in as well. It's tight again, but he's becoming looser. 

"Yes--" he gasps, and I openly chuckle. In return I get a lazy half smile out of him. 

"Go ahead then, honey. Tell me what's so special about..." I twist both of my fingers the way I had before, to make him jump, rubbing them there when his hips buck and he gives me a whine, brows pulling up as his mouth drops open. "This." 

"Fuck." Zayne rarely swears, so that's how I know he's starting to lose it, and goddamn if that word from his lips doesn't get me wet in more than a few seconds. I let up though, focusing my attention on scissoring him, stretching him, fucking gently in and out. I don't want to overwhelm him, not yet. 

"The prostate..." He begins, the tensing in his abdomen easing up a bit as my focus shifts away from that particular bundle of nerves. "Is located below the bladder, and in front of the rectum." His voice has gone breathy, tight, but funnily enough, it does seem to be helping the tight warmth of his pretty hole relax while I work patiently. "It's primary function is to aid in--" another small whine when I add more lube, "to aid in semen production, and to help push it through the urethra." 

Hilariously enough, I do find myself actually listening, and bite my lip to avoid distracting him while I add my ring finger. At this point, his cock is now fully hard, which, honestly... I didn't expect.

"Go on." I encourage him, looking away from the sight of my fingers inside of him to see his neck bared, eyes closed as he almost arches into the pillow below his head. An adorable sight, he's panting, flushed from his ears to his chest, and yet his expression is one of almost complete focus.

"The urethra runs directly through the prostate. There are... Nnh... There are five lobes." 

Lobes? Zayne... I bite my lip harder. With three fingers now, he's much looser, and it's both so cute and so hilarious that his focus on anatomy right now actually is helping him open up to my intrusions. I can feel it happening. 

"There's the... Anterior--" The rest of whatever he’s about to try and explain about the lobes of the prostate is cut off as I move, leaning up and over him to capture his lips in a kiss. The heel of my palm rests over, and presses against his balls. Zayne makes a little muffled sound and then sighs. I can feel him melt into me and I smile.

“As much as I’d love to hear the rest of that lecture… You feel like you’re ready?” Our noses brush, and he looks up at me, his eyes dark and filled with emotions that I have trouble naming… Vulnerability, maybe? But something else too. His breath is hot against my cheek as he exhales. 

“Yes. I think so.”

“Feels good?”

“More than I expected.”

When I slip my fingers out of him, he grunts a little, the sound so disappointed that I chuckle as I climb off of the warmth of his body, and reach back for the dresser at the foot of the bed, slipping my legs through the harness and tightening it as fast as I can manage. 

“Good. Don’t move. I want you just like this.” I say as I crawl between his legs, one hand full of the silicone cock now attached to me, and the other with a bottle of lube that I drizzle generously over the entire length. Zayne pulls up his knees as I approach him, spreading his legs a little wider to accommodate me. For a moment, the sight has me frozen. His hole gapes now, stretched from my fingers, and I watch it flutter under my gaze. 

Zayne is blushing, hooking his hands behind his thighs, and no doubt shy about the way he’s presenting himself like this to me. Heat rocks through me, and I know I’m slick between my thighs. “Fuck, Zayne.” I breathe, and his blush grows brighter right before my eyes.

“Yes, I believe that’s the idea.” He quips anyway, and we both share a smile, his lips quirking while I try to hold back a giggle.

While I still have his eyes on my face, I reach my hand down, beneath the leather of the harness I’m wearing, and collect my own wetness on my fingers. We both look down at the same time when I press them back into his pink hole, and I feel him clench down on me, his cock twitching several times, growing harder than it’s been all night in a matter of seconds. 

“You…” He whines.

He’d never admit that’s what it was, but I become determined almost instantly to force him to make that sound again. I pour more lube over the space between his thighs, retracting my fingers to smooth some of it up and down his hard length and his balls, and then gather the excess in my cupped hand and push into him once more, only enough to ensure he’s good and wet for me before I settle more fully against him. I grip the silicone dildo in my hand, and press the blunt tip against him. It’s honestly not very big, or thick. I didn’t want to overwhelm him the first time we tried this… And it seems like that was the right choice, because there’s little resistance as the head pops inside.

I rock my hips, gentle, and study his face. He’s propped up on his elbows, watching the sight of a cock entering him for the first time, and he looks… Curious, almost. Confused, but also turned on, if his blown out pupils have anything to do with it. 

“Okay? Tell me if you need me to slow down.”

Zayne nods, his focus unwavering as I push further. Again… There’s little resistance. Maybe I should have gotten a bigger one.

“Keep going.” He encourages me. With a snap of my hips, I’m flush against the bare skin of his ass, and with the sudden movement, his head goes back, and a long moan leaves his throat. I watch his adam’s apple work through the sound.

After that, I start to fuck him, rolling slowly against him, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back in, giving him the chance to get used to what must be an extremely foreign feeling to him.

It isn’t long before he’s panting, open mouthed, his brows pulling up and together as he falls back against the pillows. God, I can’t help but think how cute he looks like this… For once, he’s the one laying back and letting me fuck him into the mattress, and it’s not hard to see how much he’s enjoying it.

We’ve been together long enough for me to know how turned on he gets when I’m the one who takes more initiative. One evening, after he let himself into my apartment, shortly after we really started dating, I shoved him against the wall, kissed him until neither of us could breathe, and he came the moment I shoved my hand down his pants. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about– well, not this exactly – but something like this ever since. Seeing how easily he falls apart for me, and me alone, the great and powerful Dr. Zayne, just makes me want to take more and more. To push him further and further, but God–

One of my hands replaces his own at the back of his thigh, pushing it up further, and my other hand braces itself against his muscular chest while my thrusts grow faster, shallower, and the moment I hit that perfect angle, amidst the soft whimpers leaving him with every thrust, his expression contorts further. His stomach clenches, and he cries out, grabbing my wrist against his chest, almost like it’s a lifeline as his head turns into the pillows.

“Please– fuck–” Zayne manages, his voice high and thready while I pound into that sweet spot. 

“Please what, love?” I ask, my own voice a little hoarse, punctuated with sharp breaths.

“I can’t– I’m– I’m close.” He gasps, while I punch out more soft moans from him. His cock bounces with every thrust, painting a thin line of precum across his abs. 

I need no further instructions. I extricate my wrist from his grip, pushing his knee higher, until it’s almost against his chest. His other leg has long since fallen, his thigh quivering. I wrap my hand around his erection and jerk it hard and fast while I fuck into his body.

Zayne’s back arches into a perfect curve, and I swear the sight of it almost has me coming instead of him. I grind into him, doing my best to stimulate him from both sides, and I swear I can see a tear running down the side of his face and into the pillow.

“Go on.” I say, and he does. The sound he makes almost sounds like a sob, and peters off into a desperate whimper as he comes in my hand, and I can feel his ass tightening, trying to push me out while I continue to grind against his prostate. His cock throbs in my hand, and warm come splatters over his own chest, dribbles over my fist while I work him through it. His hips roll against my own, the movements uncoordinated and almost staccato, his long, pale neck on full display as his head goes back, and the arch in his spine becomes more pronounced. He trembles against me, gasping, and only once I see the tension in his limbs start to fade, do I stop.

In the aftermath, we’re both left panting. Zayne’s eyes don’t open again until I pull out of him. He whines at the loss, or maybe the discomfort, I can’t be sure which, and his hazy eyes find mine while his chest continues to heave, and his heart likely races.

There’s a soft smile on his lips as the harness comes off, the lube is put away, and I crawl to settle into his side. Our bodies stick together with the thin sheen of sweat covering us both.

I give him a second to catch his breath, and then look up at him. He’s staring at the ceiling like he’s just had a revelation. It’s kind of funny.

“So…” I start, almost singing the word, propping myself up to lean over him, “Are you gonna let me do that again, cause…”

When he looks at me, I’m very suddenly taken off guard by the molten gold in his eyes. 

Zayne huffs a little laugh and shakes his head.

“Only if you get a towel to clean us up with. I’m not sure my legs are capable of supporting my weight at the moment.” It’s my turn to laugh. He really does look like he’s about to pass out, but he’s not so far gone as to let go of the chance to give me one of his famous Dr. Zayne scowling faces. I kiss the pout off of his lips, and jump up to go get a warm, wet towel.

“Is that Dr. Zayne speak for, ‘Wow, you totally just blew my brains out and gave me the best orgasm of my life’?” I lean over him as I return, and he pulls me down into another kiss, slower, and longer this time. 

“Your translation skills need a bit of work to capture the true intent… But I suppose that one works just as well.” He chuckles against my lips.

“So are you going to finish telling me about all the lobes of the prostate? I was actually pretty invested. I mean, I definitely am now.”

“Not tonight. Just lay down, darling.”

[fanfics4all]

Cock Worshiping

Request: Yes / No Kinktober Day 16

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 790

Warnings: SMUT

Summary: You've noticed your boyfriend, Daryl, has been so stressed lately and you decide to show him how amazing he is.

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(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

I did absolutely everything I could to make sure tonight would be perfect. Daryl needed to relax because he’s been working too hard lately. I waited in the house that we shared in Alexandria. I got dolled up in a little set I found on a run. I spent a lot of time wondering if I should even put it on, but when I looked in the mirror I looked so cute. 

When Daryl finally got home, he smiled at the sight of me lounging on the couch. My eyes met his and I jumped up, rushing to wrap my arms around him. I pressed kisses all over his face, making him laugh a bit. I was always so affectionate with him, even if he was hard on the outside. 

“I’m happy to see ya too, darlin’.” He picked me up and I kissed his lips. 

“I’m happy too!” He carried me into our bedroom, gently placing me on the bed. I knew what he was trying to do, but I wanted this night to be all about him. He slipped down my lacy bra down past my tits, but I stopped him and cupped his cheeks. 

“I have something for you.” I said and he narrowed his eyes. I took his hand and led him back into the living room. On the ground in front of the couch were a few soft cushions. I smirked as I watched his reaction. Candles were scattered around, making the room look a bit more romantic. 

“What’s goin’ on, babe?” He asked, but I hushed him with a kiss. 

I pushed him down on the couch and got down on my knees. He smirked as I slowly began to strip him. I helped him out of his vest and shirt, my hands all over him. I caressed his muscular body, drawing soft groans from him. I kept going and unbuckled his belt. His pants were soon pulled down his hips, exposing the bulge in his boxers. I pulled those off him too, making his cock slap against his abs. 

“You really don’t need to be doin’ all this, babe.” He said, but I could tell he wanted it. 

“I want to.” I said, before grabbing his cock. I slowly started jerking him off, then spit on the head of his cock to lubricate it. 

His head fell against the back of his couch as I picked up my pace. I started licking his tip. He couldn’t even look down at me. I could read his body like a book, it’s how I knew how to make him cum. 

“Babe.” He groaned. His cheeks were so blushed as I began sucking on his head. 

“Fuck, feels fuckin’ good.” He moaned. I looked up at him with wide, adoring eyes. I pressed soft kisses to his shaft, licking and sucking on his veins. He grunted and I smiled at the sound. 

“I love your cock so much, baby.” I moaned, jerking him off again. I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his balls. 

“Fuck!” He groaned, his cock throbbing in my hand. 

“It’s so big and makes me cum so hard.” I said, giving his head another kiss. His grunts turned into moans as I took him deep into my mouth. I repeated this a few times, making him pant as his balls tightened. 

“It’s such a thick cock, makes me almost choke every time I suck it.” 

“Yeah? You love suckin’ my big cock?” He asked. 

“I love it so much.” I moaned. I started deepthroating him, his moans becoming desperate whines. His finger dug into my hair but didn’t do anything more than that. He was ready to cum already. I moved my hand down to cup his balls, massaging them. 

“You have no idea how hard it is to hold it.” He groaned. 

“Good, that’s what I wanted to do. Your cock makes me cum so hard, so you deserve to cum hard too.” I said, jerking him off a little faster this time. I pressed my lips to his balls, sucking and licking again as he fucks my fist. My head moved back to the head of his cock as I massaged his balls again. He started cumming with a low growl. 

“Fuck yes, swallow ever’ last drop!” He groaned. I did everything I could to ride out his pleasure. 

Finally, he returned back to earth and smirked down at me. I was trying to catch my breath, but he wasn’t done with me yet. He pushed my head back down again and chuckled darkly. 

“Show me again.” He said and I whined around his cock. 

“Show me how much you worship my fuckin’ cock.” He said and I moaned.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @dracoswhvre​

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Eight

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Mention of periods (don't worry, we're not doing Saltburn), smutty behaviour, use of toys. More sickening cuteness. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 5k

A/N : It's not exactly a cliffhanger but I get the feeling people won't like where it ends... Oh also spoilers for Jane Eyre (but it's 170 years old so I'm assuming people know the twist?)

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN

MASTER LIST

Chapter Eight

The gentle touch of his fingers on your cheek woke you and, for a few seconds, you weren’t sure where you were. Billy was crouched in front of you, smiling softly. Your eyes threatened to close again, feeling exhausted and like all of it was just a dream.

“Hey,” he muttered softly, his fingers still tenderly caressing your cheek. “Are you okay?”

Finally, you managed to wake yourself up enough to realise that you weren’t dreaming, and that you’d fallen asleep on the sofa beneath the yellow blanket Billy had bought for you.

“I’m fine, just tired,” you told him, slowly sitting up.

Billy remained crouched in front of you, tenderly cupping your cheek and looking almost concerned.

“Did you draw too much blood again?”

“No, it's not that. I did that hours ago. I'm just really tired.”

“Just tired?” He pressed the back of his cold hand to your forehead, checking your temperature.

“And my head hurts a little.”

“When is, uh -” he hesitated, almost looking uncharacteristically embarrassed, “- when is your next period due?”

Your cheeks warmed with both the realisation and the fact that Billy had figured it out before you. That was why you felt so awful. “Soon, I think? I-I lost track of the days after I moved in,” you explained, “and I've never been very, uh… regular…”

Thankfully, Billy just nodded and sat himself beside you, an arm around you pulling you into his side.

“Do you need to go lay down?”

“No I - I want to spend time with you,” you told him, resting your head on his shoulder. “We didn't really get to finish talking last night…”

“Was there something else you wanted to say or ask?” Billy asked softly, shifting a little so you could get comfortable against him. 

You stayed silent for a few moments, thinking over all of the things you wanted to ask, wondering what you had the right to ask. “What causes it? What makes you feel like everything is... too much? I’ve only ever seen a vampire lose control from hunger...”

“Sometimes it’s hunger,” he offered reluctantly, “other times it’s just... I don’t know. Even before I was turned, I was never any good at controlling my emotions. And, now, I feel like I’m constantly fighting myself. When I’m with you, I feel like I’m drowning. Everything about you; your scent, the taste of your blood, the way your heart races... it’s a lot to try and ignore.”

Although the words were spoken to you, about you, you knew better than to read too much into them. It was the constant proximity, he probably felt that way around any human after enough time. It wasn’t because he felt anything for you.

“That sounds exhausting.” 

“It is,” he admitted, waiting for a beat before asking; “why did you apologise? I lost control but you apologised.”

“Because I -” you stopped yourself before the lie managed to leave your lips. It hadn’t been your fault, as difficult as it was for you to accept that fact, you knew it was true. “Because I’ve always been made to feel like it’s my fault when bad things happen to me. The night we met, you asked me what I was running from, and that’s part of it; I was raised to feel ashamed and believe I deserved everything bad that happened to me.”

You heard him inhale sharply before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He was silent a moment before speaking again.

“Who left you?” He asked softly. You lifted your head, frowning. “Last night when you asked why I was leaving you it just… you sounded hurt, like someone had left you before…”

“My sister,” you answered, “she left home when she was eighteen and my parents disowned her because of it. She said she'd come back for me, but she never did.”

“Why did she leave?”

“My parents wanted her to marry a guy she didn’t want to marry.”

“Is that why you left?” He asked and immediately seemed to regret it when your gaze dropped. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

A moment later, you snuggled back into his side and closed your eyes. “How long until you have to go to work?”

“I can stay another twenty minutes,” he told you softly, slipping his arm around you. He was silent for a few minutes, before letting out a slow exhale. “I’m not going to be able to see you for a few days, it’s not safe for me to be around you while you’re...”

He didn’t have to say it for you to understand and, as much as you wanted to argue with him, you knew it wouldn’t be fair to try and force the issue. Now that you had some idea of how he felt and how much of a struggle it was for him to be around you sometimes, you knew Billy needed space.

“It’s okay, I understand.”

You stayed that way for another twenty-five minutes until you gently reminded Billy that he was going to be late for work. He didn’t seem to want to leave you and it made your heart ache to think about why that might be. Though, rationally, you understood that it wasn’t you; he was just tired. You were finally starting to understand just how difficult and exhausting it was for him just to get through a day.

He gave you a soft kiss and told you that he’d see you again soon.

The next morning when you woke up cramping and feeling terrible, until you found that he’d left a gift basket in your kitchen, filled with things you might need over the coming days; painkillers, chocolates, a new smart-watch with a cycle tracking app, a heating-pad, various toiletries and a large teddy bear with a note pinned to his chest.

I thought you and Bill the Beagle might want some company.

Take care of yourself. I’ll see you soon.

B.

Butterflies filled your stomach at the thoughtfulness of the gifts and, later that afternoon, when you left blood for him, you couldn’t resist leaving him a note of your own.

Thank you for your considerate gifts. William the Bear is a wonderful addition to my growing stuffie collection and the chocolates were lovely. Hope you have a good night at work.

xoxo

The next day you felt even worse but, again, you were pleasantly surprised when you managed to drag yourself to the kitchen to get breakfast and some coffee. There was another box of chocolates and another note waiting for you.

William is a terrible name for a bear. I didn’t expect you to get through the chocolates so quickly, remind me to stock up next month. I hope you’ve not been watching Black Sails without me.

Take care

B.

And, of course - of course - you had to reply, leaving your note with his blood again.

I happen to like the name William. I think it suits him. He looks like a William. I hope you’re not trying to shame me for enjoying the chocolates, truffles and caramels are my weakness. Don’t worry, I’ve not been watching anything without you, I’ve been reading. You were right, Jane Eyre was a very apt choice.

xoxo

His notes became your reason to get up in the morning, though they were a bittersweet reminder of his noticeable absence in your life. It filled you with a strange yearning and an uncomfortable sadness to think about him out there on his own. But that was a silly thought. You didn’t know anything about his life outside of the penthouse, about his work or his friends, maybe he wasn’t even noticing your absence.

(Or maybe he felt it just as much as you did.)

Okay, I have to ask; what does a William look like? Of course I’d never shame you for enjoying the chocolates, but now you’ve told me your weakness I might have to use it to my advantage. I hope you’re enjoying Jane Eyre more than you enjoyed Dorian Gray.

I hope you’re not feeling too bad. I miss our talks.

B.

Your heart stuttered as you read and reread those four little words; I miss our talks. He missed you. Maybe not quite in the same way that you were missing him but, still, it made you long for him even more.

Well, in my experience Williams tend to be cute and cuddly, even though they look a little dark and brooding at first glance. Oh no! Please don’t use my weakness for chocolate truffles against me!!! (The extra exclamation marks are so you read that in a sarcastic tone.) Yes, I think I like Jane Eyre more than Dorian Gray - Mr Rochester kind of reminds me of you.

I’m feeling a bit better today, I should be fine in a couple of days. I miss spending time with you too. I hope you’re not too lonely without me around.

xoxo

You doodled a little picture of the teddy bear he’d given you on the corner of the note but gave him a grumpy looking face and a tag that read ‘my name is William’. 

There was a strange feeling of embarrassment when you left the note and you almost changed your mind about it halfway back to your room, and you spent the rest of the evening wondering if it was a little too much.

So, the next morning, you felt a little reluctant to go into the kitchen, and had to take a deep breath before reading his note.

Dark and brooding?? I think you might have to elaborate, but I’ll let you save that for when I see you next. I hope that there will come a point in the book where Mr Rochester doesn’t remind you of me quite so much (I don’t know where you’re up to and I don’t want to spoil it).

I’m glad you’re feeling better. The penthouse isn’t the same without you. It’s strange, you’ve only been here a couple of months yet and it already feels empty without you. I miss you.

B.

P.S. Is the doodle supposed to be me or the stuffie?

It felt like your head was spinning as you read, reread, and read again. 

He missed you.

Billy missed you.

You spent half the day writing and rewriting your note to him, in one attempt confessing your feelings, in another acting completely blaise about his confession. Nothing you came up with felt right but the thought of not replying seemed worse.

I see what you mean about Mr Rochester... though I don’t know if I can completely rule out the possibility of you having a strange woman tucked away somewhere in the penthouse. It would certainly explain where all of the chocolates have been going.

I miss you too. I know what you mean, I feel the same way, like I’ve been here longer. But I suppose that’s how things feel when you get close to someone. Hope to see you tomorrow.

xoxo

P.S. I’ll never tell. An artist never reveals her secrets.

There was no end to your relief the next morning when you woke up finally feeling better, knowing that you’d be able to see Billy again. Part of you expected not to find a note, but there it was, waiting for you on your kitchen table, just like the others had been.

I can think of a less mysterious explanation for the disappearance of your chocolates, little hummingbird.

I’m not used to missing people. I’m not used to being close to them either. Some days I feel like my whole life has turned upside down since I met you. I can’t wait to see you again.

B.

P.S. I think it’s magicians that never reveal their secrets, not artists.

Again, he left you searching for deeper meaning in every word, your heart aching for a man who seemed so lonely and alone, a man who didn’t deserve that life at all.

After breakfast you showered and washed your hair, wanting to look your best when you saw him again.

Slowly but surely, over the course of the day, your nerves started to eat away at you; what were you going to say to him? Were you going to pretend that the notes hadn’t happened and that their contents was just idle talk to help the other feel less alone?

You couldn’t sit still as you waited, counting down the hours before sunset, perched on the edge of the sofa and watching his door. The moment it started to open, you were on your feet.

Before he had the chance to even realise that you were there, you’d cleared the distance between you, throwing your arms around his waist and pressing your face against his chest. Billy let out a breath but, for the life of you, you couldn’t tell if it was a sigh of relief or simply because you were squeezing the air from his lungs.

“Hey,” he muttered, his arm slipping around you and holding you almost as tight as you were holding him.

A minute or two passed, neither of you moving or saying anything, until he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and your grip on him started to loosen. You didn’t pull away, but gave yourself enough space to look up at him, smiling shyly as your cheeks started to warm.

“Hi.”

“Hi, hummingbird.”

Neither of you seemed to know what to do or where you were supposed to go from there so, again, you both fell silent, still holding each other. Finally, you dared to reach for him, placing your hand on his cheek. His eyes closed and he leaned into your touch, and butterflies began to swarm in your stomach. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you lifted onto your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his.

It was a soft, chaste kiss, nothing at all compared to some of the kisses that you’d shared, but you felt his lips pull into a smile against yours before his eyes finally opened again.

“I missed you,” he admitted in little more than a whisper. 

His hand moved to rest on your neck and you found yourself glad of his cold touch after what seemed like so long without it.

“I missed you too,” you confessed, “I - I missed you more than I probably should have.”

If Billy understood what you were trying to tell him, he didn’t show it. Instead, he just shook his head and smiled before kissing you again.

You sank against him letting him deepen the kiss and turn it into something else, something new. Normally when he kissed you it felt explosive and desperate, like he was laying claim to you, but this kiss was tender and filled with longing, like he was savouring being with you again. It stole the breath from your lungs.

“I missed you,” he muttered again.

“You already said that.”

“I know, I just -” his head shook, and he let out a huffed laugh, “- this has felt like one of the longest weeks of my life.”

“Have you been okay? Was it -” you hesitated, not sure you wanted to ask the question, “- was it easier without me around?”

Billy pulled back a little, frowning. “Why would it be easier?”

“The other night, you said you feel like you’re drowning when you’re with me,” you shrugged a little, letting your gaze drop for a moment.  

Before the notes, you’d assumed that everyone made him feel that way, that it was just part of being a vampire for him. But, now, after his last note and after that kiss, part of you longed for him to admit that it was more, that it was you, that he felt something for you, that he cared.

“I was wrong,” he told you, waiting until you looked up again to continue, “I feel like I’m drowning without you.” 

“Oh.” Whatever you’d expected, it hadn’t been that.

“It’s a lot. I know it’s a lot -” 

“No,” you shook your head, “no, it’s not.”

“I wish I could’ve met you in another life. I wish it wasn’t like this.”

The words caused your chest to ache, understand what he was saying and why because you felt the same way; the situation was a mess and all either of you could do was make the best of it.

There was more you could say - more you wanted to say - but it didn’t feel like the right time, and it wasn’t fair for you to try and push anything when you had every intention of leaving him once you’d finished your year. So, instead, you pressed yourself against him and hugged him tight.

Once you’d managed to pull away from each other, you spent the next hour sitting with him on the sofa, talking while he drank, trading gentle touches and kisses until he needed to leave. You followed him to the elevator, not sure if he was keeping hold of your hand or if it was the other way around. 

It took a couple of weeks for things to start to return to some sort of normal between you.

Karen noticed the first time she saw you, mentioning that you seemed distracted as you walked through Central Park together (thankfully with no sign of Madani in sight), but she didn’t bring it up until you were sitting together a week later, having lunch in a little coffee shop.

“Is everything alright with you and Billy?” She asked, deciding to just go for it.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you answered. And it was fine. You were happy. You just could stop thinking about what he’d said to you and how you wished that things could be just a little bit different so you could both be happy.

“I know Billy’s my friend and you don’t really know me all that well, but you can talk to me if something’s bothering you. Or if he’s done something to bother you.”

There was something in her voice, something knowing that you really didn’t like. But how could she know what was going on with you and Billy, when you didn’t even know yourself?

“Everything’s fine, honestly. It’s great, actually. We’ve been really getting on lately; we’ve been hanging out talking about books and I’ve been making him watch Black Sail on Netflix,” you told her.

Karen nodded, though it didn’t look like she believed you, but she let it drop, leaving you with the sneaking suspicion that she knew a little more about the way Billy was than she wanted to let on.

Your quiet evenings with Billy slowly started to become a little more physical again, though neither of you seemed in a rush to try and push for sex again. Instead, most evenings he’d end up with his head between your thighs, or you’d slip your hand into his pants while you made out. And, even though you found yourself longing for more, you didn’t want to push him. No, you wanted to take things slowly, wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t get overwhelmed again before you took that next step.

Time seemed to fly by and it wasn’t long before the whole penthouse was being turned upside down in anticipation of Billy’s big party; live music, caterers, decorators and, of course, more blood than you felt comfortable seeing in one place. The whole place was transformed over the course of three days and, when the night finally came, you felt almost sick with nerves.

Even Billy had a strange energy about him, checking and double checking every little thing, including a security team from his company whose presence he seemed reluctant to explain to you. You watched from the sofa as he led them around the apartment, explaining where he wanted them and which areas of the penthouse were off-limits. He introduced you to one of them, a human man called Curtis who would be spending the night near the door to your quarters if you needed any help during the night (and, again, Billy didn’t explain what that meant).

A couple of hours before the guests were due to arrive, you went to shower and draw blood before doing your hair and makeup, and getting changed into your dress and shoes. For a few minutes you found yourself staring at your reflection, hoping to find some of the confidence you’d had that night in the dressing room with Billy.

When you stepped out into the penthouse, it only took a moment for his eyes to find you, his jaw threatening to drop as he took in the sight of you. His appearance had the same effect on you; his well tailored tux had you biting your lip.

“Wow, Russo, you really know how to pick them,” Curtis called across the penthouse, earning himself a withering look from Billy and causing your cheeks to heat.

Billy made his way towards you, not bothering to hide the way his eyes were taking in every inch of you. When he reached you, he placed a hand on your hip and kissed your cheek.

“I got you a present,” he told you, using his hand to start guiding you towards the library, pausing momentarily to tell Curtis and his team that they could go take a break before the party started.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as he led you into the library and towards the seldom used desk by the window. Waiting for you were three boxes, each beautifully wrapped in silver paper and tied with black ribbon. Without thought, you found yourself gripping Billy’s arm as your legs threatened to turn to jello beneath you.

He smiled softly, picking up the first box and handing it to you.

“Open it,” he instructed, managing to sound as excited as you felt about this whole exchange.

It felt wrong to destroy the immaculate wrapping, so you took your time, carefully untying the ribbon and peeling open the paper to get at the box. You removed the lid and there, in amongst black tissue paper was an ornate black and silver mask.

“It’s for the party tonight,” he told you when you looked at him for clarification, “we wear the masks until midnight and then take them off. It’s supposed to symbolise vampires being seen by society, but really it’s just an excuse to have fun while no one knows who you are.”

You laughed, head shaking. “Thank you, it’s beautiful.”

But he didn’t give you time to linger, gently taking the box and mask from your hand before offering you the next present, seeming to get more eager with each passing second. He was practically vibrating with excitement.

Your breath caught as you opened the second box. It was a beautiful choker style necklace with diamanté detailing - at least, you assumed that it was diamanté because you couldn’t even start to imagine how much it would have cost if they were real diamonds. For a few seconds you were lost for words.

“Here, let me,” he offered, pulling the necklace from the box before you even had the chance to answer him. Billy stepped behind you, gently draping it around your neck and fastening it for you.

Your fingers immediately reached up to touch it; it felt a little heavy around your neck and you’d never had a choker style necklace before, but the feel of it would be a constant reminder of Billy and you loved that. 

“Thank you, Billy,” you finally managed, turning and wrapping your arms around him before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“There’s one more.” He reached for the last present but seemed a little more reluctant to hand it to you. 

And once you’d opened it, you understood why.

“Oh...” said somewhere between shock and confusion. 

You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, especially not after the mask and the choker, but a new sex toy certainly wasn’t it. Your cheeks heated as you looked at the box, trying to make sense of it, the words discreet and remote play only confused you more.

“I want you to wear this for the party,” he told you, a hint of nervousness in his voice, “if you want to, I mean. If it’s too much, I get it. I just - I thought we could have some fun. And there’s going to be so many people, I guess I want to know you’ll spend the night thinking about me...”

Your cheeks continued to burn, part horrified by the notion, but a much larger part couldn’t help but find the idea interesting, arousing even. And, after everything that had happened between you, part of you was still longing for more.

“You want me to spend the night thinking about you?” You asked quietly.

“More than anything,” he answered in little more than a whisper, like he knew it was something he shouldn’t say.

It felt like your heart leapt into your throat for a few seconds and you struggled to swallow around it. All you could think about was that night a couple of weeks ago, how he told you it felt like he was drowning when he wasn’t with you, and you knew that you couldn’t say no to him. (You didn’t want to say no to him.)

“Okay,” you finally answered, “how do I...?”

“Let me,” he offered, perhaps a little too eagerly, taking the box from your hand, muttering something about how he’d cleaned it and charged it ready before wrapping it.

You bit your lip, watching as he pulled the purple silicone toy out of the box, knowing that he could hear your heart pounding. Then he kissed you, slipping his tongue between your lips and enjoying you for a few moments. When he pulled back he began to trace your lips with the tip of the toy before slipping it into your mouth, causing your cheeks to burn hotter.

You watched him suck his fingers, leaving them glistening with saliva before dropping to his knees and slipping them beneath your dress and into your panties. His free hand nudged your knee and you parted your trembling legs a little further while his fingers stirred between your folds, wetting you before slowly slipping into you.

You moaned softly as his fingers slowly started to pump inside you, twisting and bending, easily finding that special spot. 

Your hands gripped his shoulders, feeling like your legs were going to give out. Another soft moan escaped you when he looked up at you, holding your gaze as his fingers filled you, over and over. You clenched around him as he licked his lips, knowing that he was imagining the taste of your arousal on his tongue.

“You can come whenever you need to,” he told you, smiling up at you like he was in awe of you.

“Billy...” you moaned, your voice muffled by the toy in your mouth, hating how close you were to falling apart.

Your walls clenched and tightened around his fingers again, but you were already so wet that you couldn’t hold onto him or make him slow. There was something about all of this that seemed so obscene, so dirty, and it just made you want it ever more. His fingers hit that sweet spot one more time and it was enough to push you over the edge. Your legs started to tremble and your thighs pressed together, trying to keep his fingers inside you.

And, all the while, Billy smiled up at you.

A needy whine slipped out when he pulled away his hand, but you soon fell silent when he took the toy from your mouth. Your eyes fixed on the bookshelf behind Billy as he inserted the toy, suddenly feeling embarrassed despite everything you’d just let him do. Once he was done, he straightened your panties and made sure your dress was perfect.

Shifting your weight between your legs, you tried to get used to the feeling of the toy while Billy stood up and took out his phone.

“Let’s give it a little test,” he said with an almost mischievous grin on his lips that caused you thighs to clench. Something told you he was going to enjoy this. A lot.

A sudden whimper was pulled from you as the toy started to vibrate.

Billy’s grin grew as his finger swiped on his phone, causing the vibrations to intensify. As good as it felt, a mixture of shame and concern threatened to ruin the moment.

“What?” Billy asked, stopping the vibrations the moment he noticed your discomfort. “If it’s too much, you don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” you answered shyly, a little embarrassed by just how much you wanted to, “It’s just... what if someone realises?”

He offered a soft smile, placing a hand on your cheek. 

“They won’t,” he told you with confidence. “It’ll be too noisy for anyone to hear it, and you’ll be good; you won’t come until we’re alone together and I give you permission.”

His thumb tenderly caressed your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you, his tongue slipping between your lips and wiping away any misgivings you might have had. You wanted to do this. You wanted to give Billy the comfort of knowing that you were thinking about him all night. And you wanted to do it for yourself too. You’d wanted to have new experiences and this was definitely new for you.

“Come on,” he said, slipping his hand into yours, “let’s go have a glass of wine and wait for the guests to arrive. It’s going to be a long night...”

Chapter Nine

End Note : So, originally, this chapter and the party were going all be one chapter, but then I got carried away with the cute notes between reader and Billy. That means next week will be a whole chapter of party shenanigans.

As always, thanks for reading/commenting/liking/reblogging, hope you're enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it! Have a great weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

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[angie-likes-to-art]

Fic Recs (Stranger Things Edition IV)

My semester is over and I can finally read fanfics again!! and maybe write??? All fics are fem!reader

Marvel One Two Three Harry Potter One Two Three Stranger Things One Two Three Specific Characters Tangerine Masterlist

Like a Random Tuesday in December by @bimrwolf (18+ Only)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “Reader had always had a crush on Steve, but he is not interested. Yet, when he starts to get closer to her, he realizes he made a mistake because it might be too late.”

Whip it! by @schoopsahoy

Pairing: Steve Harrington x roller-rink!Reader Summary: “steve gets forced into taking the kids to the new roller rink, but he doesn’t mind so much once he meets you. basically just steve being a massive simp for reader.”

Dazed and Confused by @caxde

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “you work on Hawkin's music shop, and Eddie is a regular costumer. Your friends (Steve and Robin mostly) help you to gain confidence and flirt with him.”

Start Me Up by @jobean12-blog (18+ Only)

Pairing: Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “Your car needs a major tune up but when you meet your mechanic, all you want is for him to tune you up.”

Dreaming of You by @boomhauer (18+ Only)

Pairing: Virgin!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “Plagued by graphic dreams about the Munson boy, you decided to see if he can make them come true.”

Sketchbook by @galaxy-siren

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Artist!Reader Request: Could I please request an Eddie x artist!reader story. Maybe he sits next to her in a couple of classes and he sees her drawing in her sketchbook and he’s just like “holy shit that really good” and he asks if he can look at some of her other drawings. She lets him forgetting that she has a couple of sketches of him.

Second Chance by @astermath

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “steve decides to ask out the girl who he keeps seeing around hawkins with her nose in a book. he’s a little surprised when he gets brutally rejected, only to find out his “king steve” era is haunting him more than he expected. he attempts to make it up to you and show you he’s changed, even if it takes him a couple of tries.”

Private Viewing by @lokis-army-77 (18+ Only)

Pairing: Camboy!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary:  “What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?”

Next Caller by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple (18+ Only)

Pairing: College!Eddie Munson x Shy!Reader Summary:  “Eddie hosts a late night radio show for his college campus, where he discusses various different topics. He's mostly known for his DnD and sex talk segments. You've been a long-time listener who works up the courage to finally call in for some help.”

Deal with the Devil (Series, Ongoing) by @hard-candy-writing (18+ Only)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Cheerleader!Reader Summary: “you want to piss off your parents. eddie wants to pass his classes. so you make a deal with each other: he'll date you, you'll tutor him, and you'll both end the year happy. the catch? no falling in love. slow burn romance, enemies to friends to lovers, fake dating, don't fall in love. fic takes place in 1984-85.”

[gouraminnow]

Shanks anon here and it’s so okay I always love reading your analysis/ the reasoning behind shanks’ character in your yandere fics! It makes your fics feel so real like the characters feel so.. in character when they typically feel ooc in yandere fics.

your response made me wonder- what would shanks or benn (or both ;)- okay I need to stop) be like with an emperor darling? Or an admiral darling since admirals are placed on the same power scale as emperors? I feel like this would require them to actually really have to strategize to get their darling since it’s not as easy as just flexing their position as an emperors crew and just snatching their darling up.

Thank you!! Honestly being OOC is something I worry about. I know it's not the biggest deal ever, it's fanfic and we're already warping things, but I very much obsess over whether or not things feel "right" enough to me, haha. Like yeah yandere versions of characters differ but there are still core aspects of a character that make them who they are.

Rambling under the cut, much lighter on Benn tbh... hint of suggestiveness at the absolute very end like literally the last sentence

Anyway if Mc is another Emperor, then Shanks is gonna try and pester them into an alliance, first of all. He's friendly and laying on the charm, but also a bit more serious than he would be with a civillian or less powerful/experienced pirate. You're someone who could actually potentially cause problems for him if he pushes too hard. A lot more passive, but pays special attention to your movements. If he runs into any of your subordinate crews or other members, he's friendly with them too- willing to assist them in battle if they bite off more than they can chew. Sends them back to you with gifts- both for them, and something meant to be delivered directly to you.

And he "runs into" you too, of course! Very frequently, actually. Throws a party, does his best to draw you and your crew in. All the better to give gifts directly, isn't it? Some quality alcohol is his go-to, but he likes you. Does his best to dig for any interests you may have, learn/estimate your clothing sizes... whether or not Benn is into you as well, Shanks tries to get him to dig a little as well. He'll grunt, maybe even roll his eyes, but approaches you all the same. Probably has more luck anyway, since according to that SBS he scores more ladies than Shanks lmao.

If it's Benn who's interested and not Shanks, then... I think it'd be funny if things don't change all that much, actually. Teases Benn for aiming high, but ultimately decides to try and be a good wingman for his first mate. It's the least he can do, after all! And if he does succeed in getting with you, the resulting alliance will be good for everyone, he reasons. Benn has a headache.

Benn would also send gifts, I think, but they're smaller. More personal and often functional. A small bottle of your favorite spirits, a leather-bound journal, a small piece of subtle but pretty jewelry. A replacement for a scabbard strap that snapped during a skirmish, an extra button when one popped off of your coat... was he even there for that? How did he notice..?

And Benn is no stranger to drinking and partying, of course, but he makes more relaxing company than Shanks. Won't pester you or drag you into things the same way Shanks will, happy to find somewhere a little quieter and just enjoy a shared drink and a moment of quiet.

All in all, kidnapping is far less likely to be on the table. You're on equal footing, and neither man wants the massive clash between Yonkos or the deaths that would result from it that could come from this. They both ultimately want you to like them, after all, and captivity wouldn't break the Will of someone like you even if they did manage it.

An Admiral Mc, on the other hand... oof.

This has a bigger chance of blowing up but Shanks is high-maintenance and loves to court danger. Takes care of troublemakers for you, which pisses you off because you do not need him for that, goddamnit. He likes to antagonize you, knowing you can't just start something without the input of the other Admirals. You're on par with him, but ultimately still a tool for the WG... if you fail, they're more likely to write you off as a failure than a loyal crew would. Would try to get you to defect. Aokiji did it after all, so it's not impossible. But if you're determined to remain a Marine, well... if he can beat you, kidnapping IS on the table here as an alliance is impossible. Uses the danger your subordinates are in against you. The gap between you and them is just too big, are you really willing to risk all of them..? It's worse for an Admiral, tbh. If they can't get you to leave the Marines and join them, and they succeed in taking you for themselves, they're more willing to break you than a fellow Yonko. Can see it becoming something akin to a brat-taming scenario, tbh.

[randomyuu]

the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

My guy Vox once again graced us with lovely Goyuu fanfics, and the way it follows you home, the stories i never told, made me go FERAL.

Time travel? Two Gojou Satorus? Double affection for our sunshine Yuuji? Yuuji sandwich? What feels like possible continuation of (you'll whisper, serpent tongue) what you fear you have become???

FUCK.

I need to stop indulging my imagination too much. I should’ve been content with writing long-ass comments but noooooo, my brain goes “you gotta draw it”. DAMMIT VOX, YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITINGS HHHHHH

So… usually I should’ve picked a favourite scene that is within my drawing capability, but I just… love all three chapters??? So I made a questionable time investment? I can’t stop??? Help???

This is probably the most ambitious fanart project I’ve ever done so far. Fair enough, considering I might combust if I keep these welled-up emotions inside from reading Vox’s Goyuu fics. Fuck.

Fic info:

Title: the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

Author: @voxofthevoid

Pairing: YuuGoGo. Future!Yuuji, Future!Gojou, Teen!Gojou

(idk why I laugh writing YuuGoGo. I’m beyond help)

Currently, it is 3 chapters out of 8. And it’s gonna be NSFW chapter 4 onwards, so don’t forget to read the tags first, folks!

The drawings are under Read More, because I have lots of thoughts surrounding each chapter and drawings. It’ll be hella long if I didn’t hide it here. It was a mess down there. A combination of hours before, during, and after I read said fic. I’d say good luck finding the art among the sea of jumbled words but… you’ll find them easily. Don’t worry about it haha

SPOILERS FOR ALL 3 CHAPTERS! I highly recommend reading those first before diving into these drawings!

Also for the comics, read from right to left please!

From here on, I will be referring to the Future!Gojou as Gojou and the teenage one as Satoru.

Overall, drawing all these is fun! Really fun! This project pushed me quite hard, forcing me to test my limit (because I rarely draw this much back to back). Since this is a combination of drawings and comics, the coloring style will not be consistent. In a way, I want to try some brushes I never get to use, as well as try out my new graphic tablet. Drawing these got me giggling because I was finally able to let loose during line art. It's much easier to do so, and sometimes I just get to reread the fic and giggle to myself for the nth time.

CHAPTER 1:

Whooo. Whooooooooo—

Ok, ok, the premise is just that good. It intrigued me, fascinated me, and I just… oomph. I cannot refuse a Time Travel Yuuji Sandwich. Sign me up.

Honestly, there are two scenes that are just… a bit too clear in my mind when reading this chapter. That would be the one I drew above, and the other is when Yaga called Gojou to come outside of the class. I love, loooove how Vox wrote Satoru’s POV. And when Yuuji fucking giggles?

I lost it.

Can you imagine, drawing Yuuji grins, with shiny stuff, maybe some sunlight, just purely happy and indulging Gojou?

Help me, for I am drowning in my love and adoration for Yuuji.

Page 2 is an experiment on using harsh black as shading (kind of?). I really enjoyed colouring Yuuji, and drawing those buffalo skulls! I wish I can grasp the concept of contrast a bit better tho :v

CHAPTER 2:

This is probably the only chapter where I picture still images instead of comic panels. A bit like those cool chapter covers in mangas. The one I really, really want to draw is the scene with Satoru on the table. Can’t pass the opportunity to highlight Satoru being a brat, albeit a really cool brat.

Cool idea drawing always proves to be a challenge, because of course my artistic skill just so happens to be below the requirement. Thank you, Sketchfab, for the chair and desk’s perspective otherwise I’m screwed lmao

The second scene that I want to draw the most is this:

Gojou is one step away from climbing Yuuji. Also, I have a bit of a problem picturing a man pouting that makes him look crazy instead, so please have Gojou pouting adorably instead. Because, as Yuuji said (with love), Gojou is (also) a brat.

This is possibly my favorite art in this project, after Yuuji's in Chapter 1 page 2. It's clean because I don't have to draw background, and I was having a fun time drawing Yuuji. And Gojou's squishy cheek as well.

Oh, actually, there is a “manga” scene in this chapter. It’s when Yuuji said, “I love Satoru.”

I just—

AAAAAHHHHH YUUJIIIIIII YOU AND VOX ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. That secure relationship between Yuuji and Gojou? Satoru’s description of how Yuuji’s smile could blot out the sun??? Not me screaming 💀 I also see bits of hints of possible co-dependency, though I could be reading those wrong, but either way I’m good. Secure and possessive relationships are fun to consume hhhhhh

But yeah. There are too many wholesome Yuuji smiles in this fic, and I… I am not confident enough to draw genuine happiness. It’s too much for me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

For this chapter, another reason why I chose these two scenes is just because I want to try and draw cover-worthy pictures of Yuuji and Satoru, and Yuuji and Gojou (cough)

CHAPTER 3:

We start the chapter with Nanamin. Ah, Nanamin. I forgot what his teen self looked like and was surprised to see his design again lmao

I want to draw Yuuji and Nanami scene because… I just want to, I guess. I have never drawn him before (Yaga as well) so that's an interesting challenge. I got two ideas on how I want to draw it. One is a bit painting-esque, and the other one is like another chapter cover. In the end, I chose the cover one because I want to emphasise the difference between teen!Nanami and the Nanami from Yuuji’s original timeline, and how the watch feels like a connection between the same (yet not) person. It’s a bittersweet feeling? In a way?

I’m not really good at explaining my intention ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

I love Yuuji’s answer to Nanami's question.

AND FINALLY.

A Yuuji SandwichTM scene.

And oh B O I do I love it. Have I told you I like every chapter? I probably have. But this one? Satoru’s curiosity, Yuuji’s on-brand self-deprecation, and Gojou come strolling down to show more of Yuuji to his mini-self. I want to draw this whole scene, from Gojou finding them, feeding Yuuji snacks, bitch-slapping Satoru into the backroom, to Yuuji growling. Them trying to hide a boner from Yuuji’s growl got me cackling so hard I LOVE IT 😭

I love it all. Please love Yuuji in my stead, Satoru and Satonyan :3

Oh! Also! 40-finger Yuuji sounds really, really cool! I’ll be happy with whatever Vox will give us in future chapters, but 40-finger Yuuji… possible scene with this timeline’s Sukuna… my god. The action! The drama! The bloodshed! One can only hope.

However, as much as I love that whole scene, it’s still too much for me :”) I’m still not yet confident in delivering the humour and action. Also my already-long drawing plan had my brain groaning in protest so I can’t push my luck :'D

When Gojou said "He looks sweet, but he's a bit of a beast", I kept picturing Yuuji staring innocently, but there was an edge to his look. As if the moment Satoru looks away, he will pounce. But in the end I just stick with innocent-looking Yuuji because I accidentally drew his eyes that way and I want to keep it in lol

Since Satoru points out how soft and cuddly Yuuji is, I also want to draw soft Yuuji :v

And the last one… is the last scene. For some reason, I read that both Gojou and Satoru share Yuuji’s lap and was having a frustrating yet fun time figuring out how it’s… physically possible, without having their butts on the ground because they both are not small at all. As I lined the art, I reread it again and… perhaps I read it wrong? Satoru is beside Yuuji, and not on his lap? So yeah, this one might be the least accurate, but hey, at least you can view it as a crack drawing or something :v

AAAANNNDDD I HAVE EXCEEDED TODAY’S BRAIN CAPACITY OF FORMING WORDS

Have I told you I love this fic?

…I probably have.

Have an amazing week (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

[peasant-player]

I watched the war of the rohirrim!

And I have thoughts spoilers under the cut + some crappy doodles ❤️

Man that Oliphant was nightmare fuel.

I never thought I would be scared of elephants but here I am.

The watcher was kinda adorable!

Here some doodles xD

Wulf is now forever a raccoonTM in my head.

What a pathetic man.

Whoever said Hera is a Mary sue needs to check their brain OR the definition of Mary Sue.

For God sake her first real kill was with the help of her horse and a pitchfork while laying down being terrified.

I do like that she used the "death" Sentence in her amazing show off against the racoonTM because that what Rohans warrior use to say while riding into battle!

I disapprove about her daily clothing choice. White boots and shirt? Really? That poor laundry lady!

Now to the more important part that I need to say:

I loved Targg and the shield maiden Owlyn so much. I want a healing fix it and I ship them.

Did they had any interactions with each other. No. But that's not gonna stop hopefully anyone!

He was a really good general with great moral compass! He would have spared Hama and the small folk. Now let me get this quick~ out of the system:

I loved his clothing and I mean he got just stabbed once(1)time he could survive that! (Helm got shot with arrows like 6 times and was fist fighting people while being very depressed in a snowstorm like a week after that)

Let there be some loyal wild men safe Targg from the battle field and then he heals but doesn't know what to do with his life and then he meets hera and olwyn and he tags along because he respects her and he has nothing better to do. They could go on a adventure together.

Or idk let him see that the raccoon man is crazy earlier and safe hama for negotiations or whatever and he helps Rohan idk I read fics with much worse unrealistic premise and it still worked great!

Here have a little comic

So let's talk about Helm hammerhand!

What a legend. No really I'm gonna draw him standing heroics with his tits out and his hammer holding into the sky.

He would approve.

I laughed out loud that he kinda froze to death and suddenly had his hammer in his hand!

He punched a ogre/orc to death! Sauron and the Balrog should be thankful that he does not have access to thermo leggings and the blood of the Numenorian because he would have punched them all straight into the void!!

He would have throw the ring into the fire because he has no use of such nonsense!

And Haleth !! The silm Haleth would have approved of him!!!

So cool,so hot and even his death was kinda cool, very quick but so heroic.

The twink bard hama got used up to show that the raccoonTM is a terrible war lord and a super pathetic man. Kinda sad and underwhelming. Good part to start a fix it fic!

And wulf Ach wulf man idk what to say I will say that the German dub gave him a better and deeper voice then the English voice so that was nice! I had some feeling for him when his father died and he got choked out by helm but he really went all out to become very pathetic.

I hope there are some good fics that work on his very odd characteristics

I'm gonna draw him once being even much more pathetic but I need to confess he is rather bland next to Targg or Frealaf!!

Frealaf ❤️ God he is SO handsome and so cool in the rescue and he got that calm vibe about him.

He makes a great King.

I loved his clothing so much in general the clothing was great!! (Except the white pants/boot from hera!!)

Very beautiful and I can't wait to see more close up pics!! It was of course alot of fantasy style belts and fur but I do not mind that!

Then the very funny siege machine.

In all earnestly if the wild men are so good at building stuff and hauling around ridiculous amount of woods then they missed their opportunity to become middle earth's greatest engineers!!

Builders!

Wood cutters!

Why fighting around and eating scraps if you could become middle earth's best architect??

And what the hell did the poor drum player did wrong that he got a free yeeting into the atmosphere???

At least he was dedicated to play his drum until his end I guess?

But I loved the skull masks! Hehe very easy way to draw some hot wild men ~

That's my thoughts I did not went into much details about what could have been better or what is not really like in the books. I'm just glad that there is another great addition to the Tolkien fandom!!

[showsandstuff]

WHAT'S UP!

Welcome to my post where I praise the fanon original league version of Jayvik!!!

I'm gonna be real, I will miss the Og machine herald Viktor. I never played league, and I'm not going to, but before season 2 came out I read his lore and he's actually a pretty fun character.

Then after season two act 1 came out, I dove into the world of fanfiction cause I started shipping Jayvik and found kind a few fics about the league of legend versions of the characters. And here is what I will say.

If we go with fanon alone, I actually prefer the league versions.

League Viktor and League Jayce are actual enemies for most of the time. They used to be colleagues, then Viktor was getting into brainwashing whilst Jayce was a dick and got him kicked out of the academy. He also didn't speak up when some other scientist took credit of Viktors invention. Oh and there were misunderstandings about some crystal...

Long story short, they don't like each other. But in the fics they often times either clear the misunderstandings and make up or yearn for each other whilst on opposite sites. Or they fight each other which leads to make out sessions because why not.

The characters are also generally more fun to read about.

Jayce is a huge dick, that is literally his most defining personality trade. He is a cocky bastard and people like him until they get to know him because he's just such an asshole.

And Viktor is just... Really fucking silly. He wants to get rid of his emotions and says that he already did get rid off them, but then Jayce pisses him off and you can tell no way?? Where did you get rid off your emotions? You've been whining non stop. There's also still love, kindness and empathy within Viktor, but he somehow convinces himself that he is emotionless. It gets especially good when that's played for comedy, which it oftentimes is!

Also, the nicknames! They still call each other Jayce and Viktor but Viktor also calls Jayce "Defender" short for "Defender of tomorrow" which is jayces title, and Jayce calls him either V or Machine Herald, depending on the mood.

Arcane season 2 was too rushed and packed with so many seperate story lines that we didn't have enough time for the characters. We needed at least one more season.

But the fanon for the league version, as someone who never played it, gives me this huge time frame of them being enemies but they used to be colleagues or friends (or more than friends depending on the writer), and then a huge time frame of them being enemies.

Og machine herald League Viktor though??? PEAK, WHAT A FUNNY CRINGEFAIL LOSER!

Now more to Arcane...

I think as much as I love Jayvik there, it's all just too sad, especially if you don't necessarily want to read act 1 fanfictions or AUs.

Also Viktor is super hard to characterize because his personally changes with almost every act. That's why I don't buy it when people complain about the way he is characterized because Ik all yall want is sassy S1 Act 1 Viktor, but I prefer the less confident and workaholic Act 2 Viktor. We are not the same.

The Fanon of League is just, somehow, more consistent in a way, because it has existed just much longer and people probably get inspired by the same shippers for how to write their dynamic.

Arcane fics though depend on how the individual interprets the characters, and with characters whose arcs were rushed sm it's just impossible.

So Og machine herald Viktor, you will be missed. I hope people don't stop writing for them and drawing fanart!!