#i realized i like drawing them on each other's laps in one way or another... doing what their hs au are too scared to do

[ruporas]

can't help myself (ID in alt)

[unriding]

KINKTOBER DAY 13 — DRY HUMPING. alexis ness x f!reader ﾉ it’s not allowed. he knows this, but he can’t help that it gets a little harder not to claim you as his whenever you come back for more.

CONTAINS — dry humping to wall sex, dirty / filthiest talk at the end, marking, possessiveness, mentions of fingering, face sitting, as well as overstim; secret / prohibited relationship, mentions of multiple creampies

ᘏ explicit smut (18+) — link to sign up for my taglist & to view mlist!

Ness isn’t supposed to be up this late. At this hour, he should be fast asleep with his teammates, rested and prepared for tomorrow’s game. Or in this case, today’s.

The very last thing he should be doing is grabbing your hips to move you back and forth along his cock even harder. You yelp, and he twitches— throbs and smacks against your clit, and the gasp that slips out of you and goes directly into his ear almost makes him cum on the spot.

You had originally told Ness that this would be a one time thing. This kind of relationship just couldn’t be allowed in a place like this. Only one time— and the two of you would go back to being acquaintances the next morning. Like nothing ever happened.

How this managed to become a weekly thing between the two of you is beyond your own understanding. You think that by now, he’s forgotten about the deal all together from the way he gets a little greedier each time he sees you.

The first time, it was only a quick peck against the corner of your mouth. The next time, there was a little bit of tongue.

Last time, it was a series of kisses trailing down your neck and chest.

And today? He’s marking you.

“Sorry,” he rushes out another apology before his lips are back on your neck, and he sucks. Hard. Your eyes widen and thighs clench around his own to suppress the sound that threatens to slip. “Just can’t— can’t seem to stay quiet today. Sorry. Sorry— ‘m trying.”

It’s impossible. No matter how many times it echoes in his head to be quiet. Quiet. Quiet. Quiet. Quiet. His mouth doesn’t want to stay shut. Not when your cunt is rubbing up and down his length so desperately.

You feel so good. It’s dizzying. Electrifying. The friction is numbing, and the heat— you’re always so warm. And soft. And absolutely perfect for him. He’s been so, so badly wanting to leave a mark on your neck, just to see how the others will react once they realize who’s been giving you that afterglow so early in the morning.

It’s him— it’s always been him.

He’s the one spending the early hours in the morning with you every week. Chalks it up to a different type of warm-up. He’s the one that lets you ride his face until you gush all over him. The one that lays you across his lap with one hand clamped over your mouth and the other three fingers deep in your cunt to draw a second orgasm from you. The one that lets you use him for your own pleasure— rub your pussy back and forth along his cock until you can’t even stand on your own anymore.

That— all of that— was all him. And he wants them to know. That’s why the second you take a fistful of his hair in your hand and pull, it’s right then and there that he feels his last shred of composure crumble away.

Just once couldn’t hurt.

“N-Ness?!” You squeal when he suddenly picks you up, big arms hooking under your thighs before your back is being pressed against the wall. “Sorry. I’m— just once. Just one time. Please? It’s aching. You’re so warm, please. Please. I need to be inside.”

To his surprise, you agree in a heartbeat. It only serves as fuel to feed his ego a little more, convince himself that nobody else could make you feel as good as he does.

And he’d make sure of it.

He slips inside with little resistance. Bottoms out and the tip kisses your cervix perfectly. You’re so soaked, so warm and desperate to be filled— and he apologizes once again, this time for not giving it to you sooner.

“I’ll make you feel so good,” he’s panting against your chest now, gasping when you hold him tighter against you. If you feel the sweat collecting along his temples, you don’t seem to notice or mind. You only tell him to move faster, go harder and stop holding back so much— and he practically growls at the suggestion. “I will. I will. Just hold tight. Hold tight okay? I can’t— can’t seem to stop. It’s okay, right? You’re okay?”

You only manage to nod with the relentless pace he’s set against you. Barely able to do anything besides cling onto him and squeal, muster up every ounce of strength left in your body to wrap your legs around his body and let him take you the way you should’ve asked him to ages ago.

“Feels so good. Just have to give you everything. If I fill you up, will you leave it inside? Leave it for me, and I’ll clean you up later. After my game.”

Your walls clench around him in response, and he only seems to slam even deeper inside you. Leave it inside? Give the players water bottles with his load dripping between your thighs? Sit and wait for them on the benches and let it form a puddle beneath you?

Just the thought alone drives him to the edge.

“Yeah. Yeah. It sounds nice. If it drips down your legs, don’t bother hiding it, okay? I’ll make sure to give you a new load later. Fill you up until it overflows and spills out all over again. Again and again. Just wait for me. I’ll make it good— I’ll make you feel so, so good.”

“You won’t even believe it.”

[nighttimealone]

This is the competitive cheer ask yes the whole older bf idea has me eating it upppp.

Cw: Nsfw, spicy smut

(Older bf!König x competitive cheerleader, afab!reader, König’s around early 40s and reader’s around early 20s)

When König’s on leave, he always arrives at the gym where you’re practicing, standing outside and watching you through the window. He’s always amazed by your stamina and strength, how gracefully you are when you pull off those tumblings and stunts, the curves of your body and the muscles stretching during you executing the stunts are so fascinating. Your teammates are around you, training along with you as you all learning the new stunt for the next competition. Yet his eyes only focus on you, glued to your silhouette, sharp gaze piercing through the people and looking at you.

You’re so precious, not like him—wounded and scarred from battles and wars, painted in blood and become broken from all the evil from his line of work. The energy of youngsters and the pristine beauty radiating from you, keep drawing him closer until he’s unable to imagine a life without you now. yet, he sometimes questions why you choose him, why you’re attracted to him—much older and plain—other than your enthusiastic teammates or college classmates.

“König!” Your voice snaps him out of his trance of contemplating. He has to hold back a groan when he looks down at you, cheeks flushed from exertion, thin layer of sweat glistening on your skin that’s exposed from your sports bra and yoga shorts. He watches the drop slide down one of your thigh. You’re still standing in front of him, unaware of how much he wants to chase it with his tongue, wants to worship that perfect body of yours for hours—right now, right now.

“Hey, König, you alright?” Oh shit, he too indulged in the filthy fantasies that he forgets he literally outside of a gym, his giant stature draws the attentions of the students passing by.

“Ja, ja…sorry, liebing.” The sudden realization of others’ eyes makes him a bit uncomfortable, so he quickly engulfs your hand in his huge one, leading you towards his car quickly.

He insists on picking you up whenever he can, not only for the chance to see you shine in your element, but also—showing those perverts that you’re HIS. Hell, König hates those idiots who thought they can have a chance with you so much, has to resist the urge to pinch their eyes when their gaze travel across your body in such lewd intention. He shield you from all those nasty stares with his huge torso, threatening them with his intimidating auras. But he’s trying to get you on his car as fast as possible, not only because that the only one who can see you in this enticing state is him, but also he doesn’t want to form a boner in public.

The drive to home is quick, with your words filling the silence most of the time and him pops up some replies, just like how you usually are during the drive.

He’s more than grateful for your flexibility, a perk of your cheerleading ability. One of your legs are pressed back against you chest, with another on the floor and shaking from how he pins you against the wall the moment you two step into the house, and soon he squeezed his fat tip through the little entrance of yours after eating you out as preparation. He ignores your concern and embarrassment. “Wait, wait! König, I just finished training and haven’t showered!” Your words are cut off when he shoves his tongue against your pussy, kneeling between your legs with his palms pushing you back against the wall, so you won’t deny him the sweetness dripping out your pretty cunny. There’s no way he can wait until you finish showering, a bit of sweat is like nothing to him, not to say it’s yours. He laps up every juices, the tip of his tongue glide through each folds so no drops can escape his relentless tongue. Now his cock drives into you in a ferocious pace, so sloppy that your juices are spilling over every surface nearby, and the position allows him to thrust his already huge cock deeper, kissing your cervix with the red tip and grinding all the spots with the veins on his shaft, till all you can remember is his name screaming out of your kiss-swollen lips. “Shh, Süßer, give me another one, ja?” When the leg supporting your body finally gives up, becoming a moaning and quivering mess, he’ll pick you up while still standing, manhandling you into a full nelson, earning yourself a “braves Mädchen” from him when your flexibility makes him put you in the position so easily, then sink that thick dick lubed nicely with your nectar and cum back inside your pussy.

One day, he finally has the time to go watch you compete with your team, but probably not a very good idea, cause one look at you in that tight cheerleading uniform already has the blood shooting downward to his cock, and although he’s infatuated by your performance like always, having to watch others hands touching you even though they’re just doing their job and without a bit of inappropriate thoughts, still riles him up so much.

So when you finally get off the podium with your teammates, ready to change back to your casual outfits, his hand shoot out from the shadow, grabbing your wrist and reassuring you quickly that it’s just him when you almost scream out. You’re able to see König’s already having a tent in his sweatpants when he impatiently dragging you to an abandoned locker room he found, and he takes no time to get you nice and wet, readied to take his cock in that tight and warm heaven. Got you brace yourself on the lockers and back arching, presenting your fine ass wrapped in that tight shorts of your uniform, tits bouncing in the air with your uniform top pushed up to reveal those soft breasts. “meins, alles meins…alles meins…!” König growls beside your ear, chest right against your rear as he pounding into you, desperately trying to relieve the pent-up desire and jealousy, hands on your hips sliding across your body and kneading whatever part of you is under his touch, covering and replacing others’ touch with his. All you can do is hoping no one stumble across this locker room, while your eyes roll back and drooling in immense pleasure, crying pleas and his name and squirting on the floor.

note: I’m not an athletic person but I’m into gymnastics so I’ve been watching gymnastics and some cheerleading videos for a while, sorry if there are inaccuracies, and feel free to comment or tell me via ask box for opinions etc., thanks.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook’s new lip piercing makes you want to cry, and he can’t live without you.

> established relationship, fluff / word count: 1.4k

> warnings: mention of or*l (f. receiving)

> in which masterlist!

note: heh surprise :D my impulsive, jungkook lover brain couldn’t resist so here’s a little something 🥲

—

“why are you looking at me like that?” jungkook nervously asks as the excited beam lighting him up gradually fades. “do you not like it?”

you remain speechless with an unreadable expression written on your face. dumbly staring at the lower right corner of his lips, it is adorned with yet another piercing that makes your boyfriend appear more enchantingly attractive in your eyes — which are, by the way, currently blurry and dazed. your brain is still fuzzy around the edges, short circuiting the longer you observe the silver stud.

it infuriates you, almost, how he still manages to effortlessly drive you crazier for him five years later.

it’s extremely rare for you to fall asleep before 10pm, and to be frank, you hate him for waking you up because you know you won’t be able to go back to sleep until 3am no matter how tired you are. and you’re still not quite certain if you’ve already registered that your consciousness has been rudely pulled back into reality; because then again, you’ve always been obsessed with his lip ring, maybe unhealthily so, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume that you’d dream of him surprising you with a new piercing just beside it.

however, there is a particular reason that holds you back from strongly wishing for that to come true.

“but you loved the ring, even the eyebrow ones… did i pick an ugly placement this time?” he wonders out loud with a frown, confused that his surprise didn’t receive the type of reaction he expected.

when he tries hard enough, he can picture them vivid enough to draw from memory… your eyes glittering with awe and adoration each time he presented himself with a new piercing or tattoo. you, showering him with love and praises that erased every ounce of anxiety he had about his life-altering decisions that usually came in the aftermath. what others would call impulsiveness, you named his fearless self-expression.

“ow- ouch- baby! what the hell? what was that for?”

with doe eyes struck by headlights, he gapes at you in surprise as he rubs his poor shoulder that was slapped without warning.

“why did you get it there? we’re not allowed to make out again until it’s healed!” you pettily complain with a drawn-out whine, knees bumping against his thighs as you bounce your crossed legs in bitter vexation.

“oh, shit.”

in real time, you witness the realization comically dawn on jungkook’s face, flabbergasted that in the thick haze of his excitement, he forgot about this excruciating restriction during the extended healing process. in his defense, it’s been forever since he got his first lip piercing.

oh, he’s in so much trouble.

he stares back at you, frozen and unblinking as he slowly speaks with a guilty wince. “ahh, you’re right… i must be out of my mind… i can’t eat you out, too… fuck, how did i survive this back then?”

the genuine innocence lacing his voice only fuels your urge to curl into a ball and cry in frustration. yearning for his touch while he’s not physically present is one thing, but this is much, much worse.

“stop talking.” you glare at him, angry eyebrows contrasting the puffiness of your face caused by sleep.

“you’re so adorable.” the endearing sight elicits a breathy chuckle from him, followed by a small whimper triggered by the pain that spreads on the lower part of his face immediately after. he brushes it off without care, muttering quietly- “come here.”

he carefully guides you to sit on his lap, sinking further into the soft mattress with your weight added on top of him. and for tonight, you allow him to manhandle you as he likes, not having the energy to jokingly pretend to argue with him. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer to him, only realizing how much you’ve missed him now that you’re skin-to-skin.

“don’t be upset, baby. i’m sorry.” he sweetly coaxes you into a better mood. “i will make it up to you after. i promise. i always do, right?”

with drowsy eyes still trained on the new jewelry that shines from the light of the night lamp, you sniffle and pout at him.

“and we can still do this, remember?”

the world becomes still and quiet, and the oxygen gets trapped in your lungs when jungkook holds your face in between his warm hands, crossing the short distance between you. your eyelids slowly flutter shut, lashes kissing your cheeks as his lips softly brush against yours. languid and tender, slightly sticky from your sleeping mask that smells like candy. he ends the blissful moment too soon with a gentle pucker of his lips, leaving you with a simple peck that will haunt your mind for the weeks to come, as if you’re a teenager who just had their first kiss in the middle of the dance floor.

“hmm, see, baby? not bad?” he says quietly, pads of his thumbs tenderly stroking the apple of your cheeks.

jungkook is too persuasive for his own good. the memories of you suffering last time are clouded with the new sweet memory he just orchestrated, and you’re almost convinced that it truly might not be that bad after all.

“but we need to be veeery careful like that for now, understand? so it’ll stop hurting and heal fast.”

and just like that, you’re a little more awake.

“does it hurt a lot? did you bleed a lot?”

hearing him say that he’s in pain made you worriedly react within a split second. his heart melts, and then breaks into two as he gathers all the self-control in his body not to pepper your face with kisses like he usually does.

“the piercer was good and quick, i didn’t feel a thing. but i’m definitely feeling something now.” he shakes his head, uttering the last sentence humorously.

“of course, it hurts now. you won’t stop moving… let me see.” you scold him with a roll of your eyes, slightly turning his head by the back of his ear to have a better view of the swollen flesh around the piercing.

“how is it doing?” he inquires after a few beats, curious and impatient with your silence.

and that’s when he sees that look on your face, the glittering eyes he was anticipating to meet since he finished his appointment the morning before. you grin from ear to ear, scrunching your nose cutely before giggles bubble from your chest. sheepish with your transparent delight, you hide your face in the crook of his neck, tickling him with your every exhale.

“my boyfriend is so cool, and so handsome. i’m so lucky and proud.”

that’s him. that could only be him.

jungkook, despite being elated by the compliments, can only muster a small shy smile. he carresses your hair lovingly, securing his tattooed arm around you as you threaten to slip off from his lap.

“really?”

“hm, i like it. so much…” you hum, planting a chaste kiss to the sensitive spot on his neck. “you’re always putting me through this, making me want to kiss you more all the time. this is so unfair.”

“baby, please. behave for me?” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut as if he’s in unmaginable pain. in his dramatic mind, currently flooded with love chemicals, he is. “if you keep talking like that, i will really end up risking an infection.”

you lift up your head to show him a grimace of disgust. “ew, pull it together. i wouldn’t want to kiss you with that.”

“tsk, you’re such a brat.” he calls you out with a pointed look, lightly smacking your thigh, revealed by your shorts that has further ridden up, before kneading the soft flesh under his large palm to soothe it.

you teasingly stick out your tongue in response, breaking out into laughter. and not so subtly, you squeeze your thighs together, grasping his wrist in a futile attempt to control the frenzied butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“have you cleaned it?”

“not yet.”

“then let’s do it. i’ll help you.” you climb off his lap as you eagerly tug at his arm, planting your feet firmly on the ground. “love, hurry- hurry. i want to see it in better lighting.”

exhausted after an eventful day, jungkook limply flops down, occupying the side of the bed that you’ve kindly warmed up. “you can go ahead. i’ll follow you after five minutes.”

“ugh, no, you won’t. you’ll fall asleep if you keep your eyes closed for another thirty seconds, and then i’ll have to wake you up.”

he pops one eye open, and then another, meeting your affectionate gaze with a silly grin because damn, you know him so well.

“i love you… don’t ever leave me. i think i’d seriously die without you.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[aidaronan]

"First movie you ever saw in theaters?" Steve lounged opposite of Robin on the couch in his living room, the stereo on low, spitting out Madonna on the local radio station.

"Oh, that's easy." Robin bit off part of a licorice. "Freaky Friday. I remember because I was terrified for weeks that I'd end up switching places with my mom and have to, like, balance a checkbook or something."

Steve laughed, separating m&ms in his hand. "You still don't know how to balance a checkbook, do you?"

"Like you do." Robin playfully glared at him. "Okay, here's a good one. First kiss."

Steve ate the sole blue m&m first, a grin spreading across his face because he usually lied about his first kiss, but he didn't have to. Not with Robin. "Camp Stronghold when I was nine. We met up in the boathouse after lights out to trade contraband."

"Contraband, huh?" Robin raised her brows.

"Candy. I swear my parents loaded me up like I was going to prison. 'This is as good as cash in there, Steven.' I think my dad wanted me to network or something. Because, you know, I was totally gonna start a small business with a group of eight-year-olds."

Robin snickered. "And the kiss?"

"Ah. I didn't actually want candy. I just wanted this kid to like me so bad, and I didn't know why until we were there in the dark tripping into each other because we couldn't see. I had all these butterflies, and we were standing close enough that I could feel the heat off his sunburn in the air." Steve could still picture it. The way he couldn't see more than a few inches in front of his face. "Then he kissed me, just this quick peck on the lips before he turned tail and ran. I left the boathouse with a Snickers and one massive first crush."

"Did anything else happen?" Robin asked.

"No. It was the last week of camp and I think he freaked himself out over it. I don't know. He didn't even really say bye to me after we climbed off the bus to meet our parents. Never saw him again. I honestly never even thought to get his name."

"That sucks."

"Yeah. I just hope he's doing okay, you know? That he's got people in his life that make him feel like he's allowed."

Robin looked at him softly, reaching out to give his ankle a squeeze. "Hey, you never know. You might run into him again someday. Maybe he's your soulmate or something."

"Please. I think you're pretty obviously my soulmate." Steve nudged Robin with his foot. "But I guess he could settle for 2nd place."

"Oh, there's a toast for sure." Snacks tumbling off her lap, Robin reached for her can of Coke on the coffee table and raised it as high as she could reach. "To both of us finding our 2nd places."

"Cheers to that." Steve thrust his own Coke into the air.

____

It felt like a big cosmic joke that Steve would be in a boathouse when he realized who Eddie Munson had been all that time. Eddie had looked so different when he'd transferred into Hawkins that Steve had never even given him a second look, not during their shared classes, not during any of those cafeteria tirades. Not during the numerous occasions where he gave the kids rides to D&D.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!"

It was the eyes that finally pulled back the curtain and cut away all those in-between years. Steve had never been close enough to clock them, but he couldn't deny them now. Not at such close range, Eddie holding a broken bottle against his neck, trembling with so much fear that Steve worried he might actually use it.

Dropping the oar from his own shaking hands, Steve said the only thing he could think to say.

"Well, this brings back memories."

Eddie didn't respond, the fear in the air drawing out every second, making it feel infinite. Behind them and in another universe, Dustin said a bunch of stuff Steve barely heard for the pounding in his ears. He watched beads of sweat roll down Eddie's forehead and waited for something to give.

Like clouds fat with rain, Eddie finally broke open, tension draining out of him, arm and weapon dropping to his side. He exhaled a shaky breath, maintaining eye contact, his expression too complicated for Steve to fully read.

Steve was about to say something else when Eddie finally spoke, cocking his head to the side and leveling Steve with a look.

"And here I spent all these years thinking you forgot."

[hazbinshusk]

shameless overlord!husk x fem!reader brainrot inspired by this post by @irkimatsu

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“You bring entertainment for all of us, Husker, or just you?” One of the players jokes snidely as you enter the room and approach the table. You ignore them, smiling as your Overlord turned his head and met your eye. His ears twitch forward – a rare break in his poker face – and a smirk graces his features.

“My good luck charm,” he announces, holding a hand out to you. You take it eagerly, letting him pull you down into his lap so your chest presses to his and your knees are parted to rest on either side of his thighs. They sink into the luxurious cushioning of his chair, pressing you flush against him. Husk bumps his nose against the edge of your jaw before returning his attention to the others in the room. “Hope you boys don’t mind.”

“It’s your casino, man.” Another player says with a shrug.

“Yes, it is,” Husk agrees with a cocksure grin, a rough, appreciative hum sounding in his throat as you curl your fingers in the lapels of his jacket and press a kiss to the side of his throat.

His claws curl around the flesh of your thigh, smoothing up to tease under the hem of your tiny skirt. He squeezes, his smirk growing as you shudder against him and watch the way his claws sink into your thighs possessively.

“Now,” Husk continues, returning his attention to the table. “Whose play is it?”

***

You watch the game with only the mildest interest, twisted in Husk’s lap so the both of you can watch the pot grow and shrink with each hand played. His arm is now wrapped around your waist, claws spread against the small of your back. You only move away from the warmth of his chest when he whispered instructions in your ear and you lean back towards the table to push chips into the middle for him.

Each time you do you press yourself teasingly into his lap, rocking back and forth over his now half-hard cock every time you straighten back up again.

“Hell of a lucky charm, Husker,” the player across from him asserts lasciviously. The same one who eyes you each time you lean towards the pot.

“Don’t I know it,” Husk replies, nuzzling against your throat.

You whimper in response, rolling your hips over his. Husk groans quietly, his teeth grazing your ear. All this contact has you punch-drunk with arousal; you’re feeling just as needy as he is. Husk’s hand slips down to squeeze the curve of your ass. His claws curl under the edge of your skirt, the tips of them teasing you through the soaking, sheer fabric of your barely-there underwear, and you moan.

“Hell, didn’t realize we’d be getting a free show with this game, man.” A sinner with a wickedly hooked beak says in a tone that makes Husk’s hand tighten on your flesh. “Gotta get me a piece of ass like—"

Husk growls warningly, and you draw his attention back to you with a hand on his cheek, kissing him. Husk lets you –lets himself – enjoy the way your tongue slides against his for a moment longer than necessary. You wonder if, despite the growl, he’s enjoying the way the other players are watching the two of you with a mix of lust and jealousy. The idea of him bending you over this table, all those heated eyes hungrily watching as Husk thrust himself into your tight little cunt…

You shudder into his chest.

“You’ll mind your tongue, Dex.” Husk warns gruffly, even as he presses his hips up into yours and uses the hand still on your ass to guide you into grinding against his erection. “Unless you want to lose it.”

The sinner audibly swallows, and you reward Husk for his protectiveness by loosening his tie and scratching your nails through the revealed fur. “Sorry, sir.”

“You take such good care of me, daddy,” you murmur against Husk’s neck, reminding him that you were happily aware of just who you belonged to. “Thank you.”

Husk purrs deeply, leaning forward to sweep the pile of chips in front of him towards the two of you. He turns his head to speak over his shoulder to the sinner standing in the corner. “I’m cashin’ out, Lou. Make sure the boys here pay up before leavin’. I’ve got some… details that need my attention.”

Husk pushes you off his lap, wrapping his arm back around your waist as soon as he’s standing. He pulls you into his side, his hand tugging up the back of your skirt to slip between your legs again. Your knees almost buckle at his touch.

“Let’s go, doll,” he rumbles in your ear. “I think it’s time you show daddy just how much you appreciate me takin’ care of you.”

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two

15 days before Christmas Steve Harrington flinches when the Christmas lights strung along the arcade flicker. 

Eddie only notices because he makes a habit out of keeping an eye on questionable people when he's out and about. 

Watches Harrington recover with a little shake of his head and a roll of his shoulders, as Gareth finishes up his shift, swapping cashier positions with Jeff. 

Dustin and Lucas stick around long enough to greet Jeff as Eddie stares, before scuttling off to Harrington's car, pushing and shoving each other the whole way. 

Eddie frowns, but decides to put the whole thing out of his head. 

He doesn't need his little lamb's adoration of evil high school figures to poison his day. 

                                                            xXx

12 days before Christmas and Eddie is starting to realize Harrington is everywhere. 

There's a little holiday display the town center has put on. A temporary ice rink surrounded by dazzling lights, hot chocolate stands, and plenty of things to see. 

Wayne and Eddie, with their traditional day of Christmas shopping complete, stroll within it, a cup of hot chocolate in hand. They never buy much--can’t, but it’s still something fun for Eddie to do with his Uncle and so and he bounces about with glee as they people watch. 

A familiar shriek hits the air, and Eddie turns in time to see Mike and Dustin collide on the ice, while Lucas and his sister skate literal circles around them, laughing. 

Unable to pass up on the opportunity to tease, Eddie flies to the edge of the rink, waving his hand and demanding one of the kids do a flip. 

"A flip!? Eddie, I can't even skate a circle!" Henderson shouts, at the same time as Wheeler adds; 

“Let’s see you try and skate with these idiots!” 

“Sorry Wheeler, I think getting on the ice with you might be hazardous to my health.” 

“Shut up!” 

Delightful banter officially traded, Eddie turns to find his Uncle in a conversation with Steve Harrington. 

Grin immediately faltering into a frown, he approaches cautiously right in time to see Wayne clap Harrington on the shoulder. 

“It gets better.” Wayne says gruffly, in that tone he uses when he’s trying to give deeply emotional advice without the emotional part.  

The younger boy gave a hard nod, muttering something that might have been “Thanks.”

Eddie jerked to a stop several steps away, but close enough for Wayne to see him, to know he was done and it was time to go. 

Thankfully his Uncle picked up the signal, and made his way over, so the two of them  could finish out their lap around the town center. 

"He’s one of your classmates, right?" Wayne asked, as they turned away from the rink, Harrington back to watching the kids laugh and play around the ring. 

"Not anymore." Eddie scoffs. "That's Steve Harrington."

Wayne hums noncommittally.

"As in, the rich Harrington's.” Eddie prods, because come on everyone knew who the Harrington’s were, just as everyone delighted in rightfully shitting on them. They weren’t good people. “As in, the assholes from Loc Nora?" 

Another hum. 

Then; "People are more than their last name, Eds. You should know that."

Eddie jerks back, stung at the admonishment. 

Wayne’s not mad, never is, but Eddie recognizes his Uncle’s disappointed tone loud and clear. 

"One of the gifts you got from me was seein’ through people's bullshit.." Wayne continues, before sucking in a draw on his cigarette. "I'm surprised you didn't see through his." 

‘I don’t want to see through his!’ Is what Eddie wants to say, but keeps it to himself.

Changed the subject instead, shoulders hiked to his ears, because Harrington having some kind of claim on his new players was one thing, but his Uncle!?

He didn’t care about whatever crap the guy was going through. King Steve has been an ass for as long as Eddie had known him, the kind of bully whose downfall you cheered for. 

Sure it was petty, but guys like Harrington reveled in pettiness. 

So who cared if Eddie didn’t want to look closer at him now? Harrington wasn’t a lost lamb.

He was at best, an injured wolf, and no amount of sad looks was going to make him any safer to be around. 

                                                          xxx

 9 days till Christmas and Wheeler is having a tantrum that's delaying Hellfire's holiday oneshot.

"I don't get why he hates Christmas so much. He didn't even know Will when he disappeared!" Mike snips with his arms crossed. 

Dustin is across from him, a furious scowl on his face, as Lucas stands between, a physical barrier between the two. 

"As usual, you're talking out of your ass, Mike." Henderson spits, furious. "He was in Will's house with Jonathan and Nancy. That's reason enough!"

As if that makes any kind of sense, but then this isn’t the first argument that went into weird territory like this. Eddie’s always prided himself on pulling stories out of people, earning secrets and truths with a well trained ear and a smarter mouth. 

The freshman though, were proving to be a hell of a challenge.

Mike throws his hands in the air. "I'm just saying, we all have way more reasons to hate Christmas, but none of us are acting like the grinch!"

“I know you can only have two good thoughts a day without breaking your brain, but you're being so stupid." Dustin thunders. "Did you ever think Steve might have other reasons to hate Christmas!?”

Eddie almost groans aloud, because of course, of fucking course, this is about Harrington. 

The guy was a goddamn ghost at this point, hellbent on haunting Eddie’s entire life. 

Didn’t even have the courtesy to die first! 

"Guys." Lucas stressed, hands now firmly pressed against Mike and Dustin’s chest. “Come on, we’re wasting time. We can talk about this later.”

“Oh don’t worry about that Sinclair,” Eddie purred, making the three of them jump, as though they had forgotten they had a full ass audience in the form of the rest of the club. “I’m just docking their HP points for every minute they hold up the game.” 

“Shit!” Dustin and Milke yelled as one, scrambling to get to their chairs. 

Gareth and Jeff snicker, Grant making it known he was over their antics with a look that could have burnt gold. 

Eddie clapped his hands once, hard enough for it to echo throughout the room. “If everyone is done bickering,” He announced, slipping into his DM voice, “we can begin our tale…” 

He launches into the story he’d planned, and enjoys pulling everyone into it, all thoughts of Steve Harrington left behind.

                                              xXx

5 Days before Christmas and Eddie is panic shopping.

He’s not the one panicking, nor the one shopping, but he has a car and friends who know where he lives, so he’s woken up at an ungodly hour of the morning (10 am) by Gareth, Grant, and Henderson of all people. 

“Gareth’s sister took the car again.” Grant explains with dramatic, rolling eyes at Eddie’s exasperated face. 

“I’m sorry you planned going shopping five days before Christmas?” 

“Well--no-” Grant continues at the same time Dustin and Gareth yell protests. 

They talk over each other for a moment, loud enough to make Eddie crave coffee and the comfort of his bed. 

He runs one hand through his frizzy, bedhead hair before yanking it out and waving it around to catch his friend's attention. “Alright, I get it! You all decided to do white elephant gift thing last minute, and are now scrambling." 

"Speaking of which, you're invited." Henderson tells him with a cheeky grin. "We're doing it on Christmas Eve." 

Of course they were. 

 "Please man? It'll be fun." Gareth pleads, as Grant shoots him his patented puppy dog eyes. 

Eddie sighs. 

"I'll do it, but!" He sticks a finger in the air as grins broke out, "I'm demanding food and coffee and payment!" 

With that he retreated from the door, stomping back to his room. 

"Good coffee, too!" He hollers as he throws on clothes, happy chatter breaking out among his friends. 

Several arguments and one run to the best to-go coffee shop in town, and Eddie was following his buddies around as they wandered through downtown Hawkins. 

Since the mall had burned, shopping options had been rather limited, shops slow to reopen. 

It made it difficult to buy things last minute, but Eddie found it was actually kind of fun as Henderson explained the rules they'd all agreed on (hopefully, Gareth added, because the rules had been passed along in pieces.) 

"The goal is to get outrageous, funny stuff." Dustin explains as they browsed the local bookstore. "Nothing more than fifteen dollars, and nothing Christmas-y."

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Nothing Christmas-y?" He echoes curiously. 

Dustin nods, serious. 

"Yeah. Christmas can be kinda a downer for some people. We came up with this as a way to celebrate without all the holiday stuff involved."

"Some people like Harrington?" Eddie guesses, sinking feeling in his stomach. 

There's no way Grant and Gareth would've  agreed to do a gift exchange with Steve Harrington.

Right?

Dustin sighs dramatically, whole body heaving. 

"I know you've got a weird hate-on for him, but this time of year is really hard on Steve." He snaps, exasperated. "It's not my place to talk about it outside the Party, but he doesn't deserve to deal with it on his own."

There's that word again, Party. 

Capital P implied, just as it implies that it's a group that Eddie is firmly excluded from. 

It stings as it lands, an unintentional insult that reminds Eddie that his newest little lambs have secrets they refuse to share.

Nevermind the fact that Steve is clearly included. 

Eddie collects secrets like candy, but his poking and prodding had yet to get him a solid answer on the mysterious "party." 

Rather than press, Eddie raises his hands in surrender. 

"Easy there, tiger. No offense meant." 

Full offense meant actually, but Eddie wasn't in the mood for a full blown Henderson Rant. 

Dustin narrows his eyes, but takes his words at face value. "You know, you guys would really like each other if you both just got over yourselves." 

Eddie snorts, but covers it by playfully shoving Henderson's cap down into his face. 

"When hell freezes over maybe. Now look, they have a new science fiction display!" The last part is sing-songed. 

Thoroughly distracted, Dustin lets the conversation drop, much to Eddie's relief.

(Because really him? Liking Harrington?

Not in a million freaking years.) 

                                                      xxx

 It's Christmas Eve and Eddie is staring furiously at Steve Harrington's house. 

"No one told me he was involved." He hisses angrily, knuckles white on his steering wheel. 

"Oh my god, stop being dramatic." Dustin rolls his eyes as he talks, unbuckling himself. “I told you Steve hates Christmas, so this is how we’re including him!” 

Jeff is looking equally uncomfortable, even as Lucas and Mike fall out of the van.

Gareth's car is behind him, Grant with him.

No doubt they too, are staring at the massive house in front of them in horror. 

Slowly the elder Hellfire members file out, standing in a clump as the younger members rush forward. 

They storm the door like they live in the damn place, fluttering about like moths. 

"What the hell." Jeff mutters quietly to Eddie's left. 

"Yeah guys, what the hell." Eddie repeats, shooting a glare toward Gareth and Grant. "No one mentioned this part!"

"We didn't know." Gareth defends angrily. "This was all the freshman!" 

"Are you idiots coming inside or not!?" Robin Buckley of all people yells, appearing in the now open front door. 

Or rather, one of the front doors, because Harrington is rich enough to have two. 

"Shit." Eddie mutters. 

"It's not weird if we just--leave, right?" Grant mumbles, shuffling from foot to foot. 

"It's very weird if we leave." Jeff responds flatly. 

A flare of anger ignites in Eddie. It comes from Steve Harrington invading this entire holiday, and Eddie finally has a chance to catch him off guard.

He'd be damned if he let it pass by. 

"Brave faces men." He says, tossing his hair back with a jerk of his hand. "We're storming the castle."

Struts forward determinedly, present in hand, fully planning on making Harrington as uncomfortable as he had made Eddie.

Unintentional, or not. 

                                                xXx

It's the day before Crapmas, the one holiday Steve hates, and he's somehow been sweet talked into hosting the kids white elephant exchange.

Which was fine--they were welcome in his home anytime and they knew it--but they'd conveniently forgotten to mention this was a Hellfire Club event.

As in, Eddie "the freak" Munson and his crew of three other dudes whose names Steve doesn't know (but who probably knew his.) 

"I dunno man, I wasn't the best person to a lot of people." He worried at Dustin this morning, when the brat had sprung it on him. "This probably isn't the best idea."

"Please Steve!? It's too late to change the venue and you promised you'd do a holiday thing with each of us!" Dustin whined on the other end.

At least he had the forethought to not actually use the word "Christmas." 

"You did everyone else's, you can't skip out on mine!"

Everyone else's was simple shit like taking them ice skating, or shopping, or making gingerbread houses.

Not hosting a whole ass party with four people who likely hated his guts--and for good reason.

Which Steve repeated to Dustin, staring vacantly at his carefully decorated house.

Once again, his parents had called in designers to come keep appearances, sending along their usual message that they may or may not be home depending upon various work factors.

"We just never know anymore with your father's job honey." His mother slurred on the phone, four years ago. "We'll make it up to you, sweetheart. Promise."

Like more money on his credit card could fix years of ruined holidays. 

(At least them being gone was better than forcing Steve to perform in their horrible holiday parties. Dressing him up like a doll, gathering drunk adults around the piano to make him play horrid Christmas songs. 

Showing him off like a well trained dog, complete with finger snaps to signal him to move on to his next trick. ) 

“Steeeeeeve-!”

As always, Steve crumbled under Dustin's badgering.

"Fine, fine!" He’d said. “You're responsible for letting them know me and Robin are gonna be there though!” 

Robin, who’d been laying on his couch, poked her head up at her name. 

“They’ll know!” Dustin had promised. 

Then abruptly hung up, like the brat he was.

Now four half-terrified, half-murderous looking dudes were staring Steve down as they awkwardly stood in his living room, and he had the wondrous realization that Dustin had probably sprung this on them too. 

‘Little. Asshole.’ Steve thinks, but plasters the best non threatening smile on his face. 

“Hey, uh, guys.” He says with an awkward little wave.

He gets three sets of glares and one impressive looking spooked face back. 

Mike and Lucas were already tackling the snacks he’d put out, cheeks full of chocolates and popcorn. Dustin was re-arranging furniture to his liking, and Robin, in-between her four classmates and Steve, glanced at both sides and rolled her eyes. 

“Steve, go pull the pizza out of the oven. You lot, come sit down, you look like you’re about to bolt.” Robin snaps, making everyone sans the kids jump. 

Happy for the distraction, Steve quickly retreats to his kitchen, overhearing Robin try and get the elder Hellfire members to identify themselves. 

Chatter fills the room, slow at first, but it becomes more fluid with Robin’s ruthless prodding. The pizza ends up needing another five minutes, which suits Steve since he hadn’t had time to pull out drinks. 

He’s bent at the waist, pulling out various cans when Dustin loudly announces his presence by barging into the fridge and smacking Steve’s ass with it. 

With a yelp, cans fly everywhere as Steve drops them, bouncing off the floor and rolling across the kitchen. 

“Henderson!” He gripes, standing up as the kid grins at him. He has all his teeth now but the smile will probably always feel cute to Steve. By-product of knowing the little shit for far too long. 

“Sorry Steve.” He says dismissively, before stepping aside with a dramatic flair. “Now stop being a total housewife for a second and meet Eddie!” 

The sound of cans still rolling ringing in his ears, Steve finds himself staring into Munson’s eyes. 

Who looks all too delighted to have seen Steve fumble. 

“Thought you were a jock, Harrington. What happened to those reflexes?” He smirks, and Steve feels his face flush red. 

“Yeah well,” Steve says, hand reflexively rubbing the back of his neck, “Turns out hanging around kids kinda ruins them.” 

This is clearly not the response Eddie was expecting. 

Nor is he expecting Dustin to loudly announce that; “Steve once played a D&D campaign with us, but he totally ate it as a cleric. You should give him some tips, Eddie!” 

Now it’s Steve’s turn to smirk, because Munson looks completely thrown. 

“Is…that a joke?” Eddie asks carefully, looking between the two of them. 

Dustin shakes his head. “Nope! You can ask Lucas’s sister, she was there.” 

He then glances down at his watch, and gives the biggest fake gasp Steve has ever heard (and Steve once sat through Will and Mike acting in a play for their English class, while Nancy and Jonathan silently suffered second-hand embarrassment next to him.) 

“Oh shit, I forgot something! Be right back!” 

“Language!” Steve calls, as Dustin shoots out of the kitchen. “And be careful not to trip on the cans!” 

Munson, who looks like he’s taken a wrong turn and ended up in the Twilight Zone, stares at him. “Did you seriously play a cleric?” 

“Weave Healington was a brave man who sacrificed himself in a time of need.” Steve tells him seriously, just to see the guy’s reaction. “May he rest in peace.” 

“Weave Healington.” Eddie deadpans. 

Steve, keeping his face blank by the skin of his teeth, nods. 

“Please tell me that wasn’t the pizza you just dropped.” Robin says as she flies into the kitchen, interrupting Eddie’s face rapidly cycling through different emotions with a badly wrapped present in her hands. 

“Stevie boy dropped the pop, Buckley Bird.” Eddie says, recovering quickly. “I would not recommend drinking out of anything currently laying on the floor.” 

“Noted.” Robin says, pausing to stare at the cans scattered about. “Hey Steve, did you wrap your weird eyeball thingie? Or do you want me to do it? I dunno how long the kids are gonna wait.” 

Like a dog hearing a whistle, Munson’s whole head tips sideways. “Weird eyeball thingie?” 

“Oh my god, it’s this--I don’t even know how to describe it. Like an alternative ouija board? It says it’s a “fortune telling game.” Robin makes the quotation marks with her hands. “It has this giant, ugly eyeball in the middle.”

She leans forward conspiratorially to add; “It glows in the dark.” 

 “Oh my god, Steve, your gift is Ka-Bala!?” Dustin says, bouncing up like a damn jack-in-the-box. “I’ve always wanted that game!” 

“Robin!” Steve hisses, because of course she’d announce that right as Dustin would pop back up. 

“Oh shit.” Robin says, shooting him an apologetic glance. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your gift.” 

Steve sighs dramatically, but keeps a small grin on his face so Robin knows he’s not really upset. “Guess I’ll have to go find a new one--which means your punishment is that you and Dustin are now in charge of the pizza. And also picking up all the cans.” 

“Curses.” Robin says flatly, before breaking out into a grin herself, while Dustin whines. 

“It’s probably for the best.” Eddie says, though the guy sounds weirdly like someone desperately off balance and scrambling to fix it. “You know you weren’t supposed to pick cool gifts, right Harrington?” 

Steve raises his eyebrows at him. “Cool? It’s kinda weird. It’s disgustingly neon green. And Robin forgot to mention it’s a board game.”  

He pushes Dustin’s hat down as he walks by, and laughs aloud when Eddie follows up by knocking it right off Henderson’s head. 

“Hey!” Dustin squeaks, hands darting to cover his hat hair.

He’s ignored. 

“Neon green, giant eyeball, fortune telling board game?” Eddie sums up. “Yeah might have to murder Buckley because that sounds rad as hell.” 

Steve snorts as he walks down the hall and up the stairs, somehow unsurprised to find the metalhead is following. 

“You want it, Munson?” He asks as they hit his second floor, Steve aiming for his fathers office. “You’re welcome to it, I never even opened the thing.” 

“What do you want for it?” Eddie asks, following Steve right through the door, before stopping dead. 

A typical reaction to someone walking into his fathers stuffy, stupidly expensive office. Like the rest of Steve’s house, it looks as though it was transported straight out of a magazine. Everything is shiny and worse--unused. 

“Nothing, man.” Steve said, standing in front of said desk now with his arms crossed. “I mean it, it’s still got the plastic on it. You’re gonna have to sneak it by Dustin though.” He turned to smile at Eddie, feeling like they were sharing a joke, “He might physically fight you for it.” 

For some reason this made a hell of a blush streak across Munson’s cheeks, before the guy coughed and swung into the office behind Steve. 

“He can try.” Eddie managed finally, voice a shade higher than normal. 

As he always did to social things he didn’t understand, Steve just ignored the change. 

“Why’d you never play it?” Eddie asks, as Steve scans the shelves of stupidly expensive knick-knacks. 

“Someone trying to impress my parents got it for me one Christmas.” He says with a shrug. “They wouldn’t let me open it then, and I forgot all about it until I was digging for something else.” 

“They don’t care about it now I take it?” 

Steve can’t help the snort that leaves his throat. “They’d have to be around to care.” Then to get the conversation back on track, says; “Okay, I’m thinking the shitty World’s Best Boss trophy.” 

He points to the gaudy thing, all shiny from the ass kissing the person who’d purchased it had done in hopes Steve’s dad would give him a raise. Or not fire him, Steve never knew which it was. 

 "I take it your dad’s not gonna be here to care that it’s gone?” Eddie asks, walking up to stand next to Steve. 

 Another grin appears on Steve’s face, shared conspiratorially with Eddie when he looks over to the metalhead. “That’s my gift to myself man. I’m gonna see how long it takes before he notices it’s gone.” 

Eddie whistled, quiet enough to not hurt Steve’s ears. “Fuck the old man, huh?” 

“Absolutely.” Steve agreed, stepping forward to fish the trophy down. 

“Gotta say man, you’re surprising me. I didn’t expect such a thing from you. Especially since Henderson told me you hate Christmas.” 

Steve shrugged as he turned back around, new white elephant gift in hand. “Yeah it’s a thing I’m trying.” 

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Not hating Christmas?”  

“Not being a dick. Which,” He shook the trophy, “--means sticking it to the biggest dick in my life. I think I’ll always hate Christmas.” 

Eddie snorted a laugh, then looked startled, like he hadn’t expected that reaction out of himself. 

Steve grinned at it. 

“You uh--you know if you ever want to talk about the hating Christmas thing, I think I get it. Or can relate. Sorta.” Eddie says, and it’s so stilted that it takes Steve a moment to figure out what he’s offering. 

He almost asks him if he’s kidding, but thinks better of it. 

“I think I’m less cut up about it then the kids are but, for what it’s worth--thanks.”

Doesn’t think he’ll ever take anyone up on that offer, epically not someone who doesn’t know that an entire hell dimension exists under them but--

It’s nice. To have someone recognize that Steve hates it. That there are reasons he might.

He recalls suddenly that the man at the ice rink who’d also seen through his melancholy was in fact, Eddie’s Uncle, and briefly wonders if this just runs through the family. 

“Come on, I gotta wrap this and then get back downstairs before Robin and Dustin burn the house down.” He says instead, because he doesn’t want to get in his own head about it. Not tonight, when he knows the kids have gone out of their way in an effort to celebrate the holiday without making him feel like he was celebrating it. “Or worse, they start the white-elephant without us.” 

“After you, my liege.” Eddie says with a dramatic bow. 

Steve pauses awkwardly for a moment, before giving the world's most careful curtsey back. 

(Laughs loudly  as Eddie almost falls on his face in surprise, before the older man scrambles to chase after Steve, out of the office.) 

                                               xXx

It’s 12:00 pm, making it officially Christmas day, and Eddie Munson is rapidly re-evaluating his entire life.

Well perhaps not all of it, just the parts with Steve Harrington.

They’re playing the best white-elephant game Eddie has ever participated in, a cutthroat competition that’s filled the house with shrieks and laughter. 

Henderson’s gift, cat-paw shaped mittens with “You’ve gotta be kitten me” scrawled on the back is the current winning prize, with Mike’s salt and pepper shakers made in the shape of two pigs “porking” being a close second.

The worst gift is a tie between the eye searing scarf Gareth’s mother had created (complete with bedazzled gems) and an abomination of a stuffed animal Grant insists is an ET doll.

It looked like a deformed llama sat on its ass, and Lucas already scared Mike with it twice. 

Eddie’s own gift, ( a mug with Tom Selleck posing shirtless) was jokingly fought over by Robin and Steve to the bitter end, while Gareth was defending the blue circular cookie tin (the kind that mothers shoved needles and sewing threads into, but shockingly enough actually held real cookies) with his life. 

Literally at one point, as he laid over it while Jeff tackled him. 

Eddie himself had gone for the gold, wanting the trophy Steve had procured. He too, was defending it aggressively against Dustin, who was currently stuck with Lucas’s gift (one of his sister’s pet rock creations she’d apparently tried to sell to her classmates. 

It was hideous.)

Now stretched out on his bed, legs in the air as he stares at the Ka-Bala game Steve had snuck into his arms with a wink, Eddie finds he’s the guy’s managed to go from haunting his whole life, to trying to haunt his heart. 

Made him want to do the thing he’d angrily been against this entire time--take a look at the guy closer. 

See past his bullshit, at the person hiding underneath. 

Find out what Steve was talking to his Uncle about, and why his house looked like a Christmas themed tomb. 

Why his parents were gone. What the hell made him he pick a cleric in D&D. How he met the kids and why Dustin thought the sun shines out of his ass. 

But most of all?

Why the hell had Steve Harrington put a note on the back of the Ka-Bala game? 

‘Hope you like the game..’  It read, with the dorkiest little smiley face. ‘I wouldn’t mind hanging out again.’

Below it was a number, and Eddie felt himself go red in the face. 

Steve Harrington was a fucking mystery, but one Eddie himself, had been personally invited to solve. 

‘Merry Christmas to me I guess.’ He thought, and tried very, very hard not to kick his legs in the air. 

[sillygoofyqueer]

ahhh i'm glad you like it!! and you're SPOT ON with the pampering and carrying the other peak lords do<3 whether he's in his small bird form or his big human form with large wings, doesn't matter, he's getting picked up!! (i love liu qingge playing taxi chauffeur and realizing with horror that he likes holding shen qingqiu in his arms a little too much🤭)

so so so, i was just thinking about preening, if this is a canon compliant au, and shen yuan got dropped off in another's body, he probably has no idea how to take care of his bird features, let alone his wings, like how to align the feathers, removing molted ones, dust bathing to remove excess and stale lipids so his plumage stays fluffy, or taking care of pin feathers (new pin feathers have a blood supply flowing through it, if the pin is damaged, it can bleed pretty heavily!), so he just... doesn't. no more than clumsily washing them when he bathes, anyway. and then his wings start itching, and hurting, and the feathers are all askew, and he has all these tattered clumps and pins that hurt when he picks at it and what is he supposed to do...???

naturally, people notice when the prim proper scholar's peak lord, with the perfect hair and flawless skin, has two disheveled wings trailing after him. some of them are worried it might be some sign of self-neglect (also bc it's specifically his demon features that look uncared for), and of course when shen qingqiu coughs once so to speak, yue qingyuan shows up at his doorstep; and i was thinkingggg..... different peak lords taking turns coming to his bamboo house for some casual wing care and preening..... in some bird species preening each other strengthens the trust and bond between the two, for crows it's even a big aspect of social bonding! crows preen their young, their mates, and sick or injured birds, so it's only nature that a ill-feeling shen qingqiu relies on his companions to help him when he's incapable himself...

also because i can't stop imagining shen qingqiu sprawled out across liu qingge or yue qingyuan's lap in bliss while they very carefully align his feathers and tease out molted ones, maybe freeing some matured pin feathers, feeling akin to having his hair brushed and played with while they take care of hard to reach places (thinking about how allopreening birds in nature often have less ticks/healthier plumage bc other birds reach places they can't, but shen jiu probably wouldn't let anyone touch his wings so some parts of them were always a little... messy).

some birds (like parrots) might even overpreen when exposed to strong scents, so all the peak lords quickly learn not to put on too much or heavy perfume because it makes shen qingqiu rub and dig into his wings until feathers fall out

(and i haven't even mentioned the sheer angst potential of stress plucking, but ahh this ask is already so long!!!)

OOOOH MY GOD!!! That's such a wholesome idea. I can already imagine it - and it's always a fight of who gets to preen Shen Qingqiu's wings, to the point where it actually turns into a fight (thanks to Liu Qingge) and it's almost an all-out brawl until Mu Qingfang (the only reasonable peak lord jhebus) makes everyone draw lots to see who gets to do it (- and then cheats because everyone else is so hyped up from the brawl, and his dear shixiong simply cannot deal with such stress!!). It becomes a natural thing to come up with different ways of deciding (unless Shen Qingqiu asks one, then the others just have to choke on vinegar(kiiiidding sort of)), and the peak lord who got to do it last time is not allowed to participate in the next game because that's unfair! Spitballing about how different peak lords go about offering it at first, if I may!! I think that Qi Qingqi would be actually quite gentle about it - she's used to helping out the girls with their hair and other things (shark week 😔😔), so she knows how to go about being like, "hey, I know we don't always get along but I'm going to help you out with your wings, 'kay?" and he is immediately just like "jesus christ please save me from this torment pleasepleaseplease" - kidding, kidding, he'd be much more hesitant about it because he knows that his wings are delicate and he needs to place his trust in whoever's touching them. Qi Qingqi has been...hostile towards him (because of Shen Jiu, so he can't be too offended), and this could be a moment of weakness (- jesus, bestie boo, I'm making him sound like Shen Jiu) but...his wings hurt :[ At first it's awkward, but then Shen Qingqiu relaxes and it does NOT become a gossip session (it should and it does, you can take that from my cold dead hands). Of course, Yue Qingyuan is the first to offer at all, being all like "xiao-Jiu plleeeaaasseeee 🥺" and who is Shen Qingqiu to resist those puppy dog eyes? He seems to have a history with Shen Jiu so it wouldn't be suspicious of him to deign to allow Yue Qingyuan to help out. Of course, Shen Jiu used to let Yue Qingyuan preen his wings on the streets (if we're going that route), so he's skilled and immediately makes Shen Qingqiu feel comfortable as he feels the itchy feeling in his wings FINALLY disappear with every movement the other man makes. Of course, he should be analysing so he can learn to do it himself but...he's so comfy :( When Liu Qingge first does it, it's on a mission! GASP!! Yue Qingyuan sent them on a mission together because it was a matter of both brute force that needed some form of plan involved that wasn't just "grab smash kill" (and mayyybe he wanted his shidi to bond, who cares? Shen Qingqiu has been a lot less hostile recently, and he's going to take advantage). So, they're out on this mission, and it's a LOT fucking harder than they first thought, leaving them waylaid in the forests (stereotypical I know but screw you (/j)). Shen Yuan's (for brevity's sake) wings are slowly getting worse and he's so very uncomfortable but he can't reach the worse bits so he forces himself to abandon his pride for a second and begrudgingly ask Liu Qingge for help! Obviously, Liu Qingge has no clue what he's doing and has to be guided by Shen Yuan (Liu Qingge later claims to not at all be nervous, but his hands were shaking because he didn't mind this new Shen Qingqiu and didn't reaally want to hurt him). The next time Shen Yuan needs his wings preening, Liu Qingge (literally) kicks the door down to offer to do it. He may seem overly aggressive when he manhandles the peak lord, but he's really quite gentle. I do want to yap about the other peak lords, but this answer's really long already!!! If you want me to, please let me know, because I severely want to expose myself as a Mu Qingfang and Wei Qingwei fan and PLEASE tell me more about the angst potential pretty please, I'll be like Yue Qingyuan at your door with puppy dog eyes. I'm INVESTED NOW, GOD.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Can I make a request for an S/O who has a pet that is extremely gruesome and scary, but is very cuddly and protective when interacting with its owner? Like, like the animal was something similar to the Demongorgon or something.

If you can, do it for Sarah, Shenhen, Dehya, Candance and Navia.

(Genshin Impact) Sara, Shenhe, Dehya, Candace, and Navia's S/O with a terrifying pet

I was bouncing between a Tyranid from 40k or a terrifying bug from a user created horror story called Mystery Flesh Pit National Park, but I'll just settle on some non particular bug abomination.

Sara was barely able to hold back from immediately drawing her bow when she walked into S/O's house the first time and saw a massive insect inside.

It nearly stood up to the ceiling as it straightened its back, before relaxing from seeing its owner.

(Sara) "What is that?!"

(S/O) "OH! S-Sorry, I forgot to mention it to you beforehand! This is my pet!"

Sara stared at S/O before her eyes slowly glanced over to the "pet" they kept.

It resembled some kind of centipede with massive antennas, but had arms resembling a...human?!

Sara still kept her battle stance, wearily looking at it before turning to S/O, noticing their relatively happy expression.

(Sara) "...And, this will pose no threat to the people of Inazuma?"

(S/O) "Of course not, he doesn't eat people!"

(Sara) sigh "Thank the Almighty Sho-"

(S/O) "He eats corpses! It's a scavenger bug, not a predator!"

(Sara) "..."

Sara is uneasy around S/O's pet, putting it mildly.

The only place she doesn't allow S/O to cuddle her is at their house.

The one time she allowed them to rest their head on her shoulder, the romantic mood was immediately halted by S/O's pet resting its head on their lap.

Despite how much it unsettled her, she could at least complement its intelligence and loyalty.

When S/O was threatened, it would immediately attack whenever they commanded it to.

It even enjoyed getting pet, though Sara politely declined from doing so herself.

As long as it didn't cause a public disturbance, it was fine to remain.

But Archons help S/O if she gets a report of that...thing threatening a citizen, not even its terrifying and gross legs would skitter away from her wrath.

Shenhe reached for her polearm before realizing the bug was relaxing near S/O.

She had seen all kinds of fantastical sights thanks to her Master, so it didn't really take long for her to adjust.

(Shenhe) "...Is that a pet, S/O?"

(S/O) "Sure is! This little guy has been with me for a long time!"

(Shenhe) "I see. It is good you have a companion."

The bug's head, or at least what she assumed was the head, seemed to lean into S/O's hand as they scratched under the chin.

...Neat.

Shenhe is used to nature, but she had never seen a creature like this before.

But then again, being with S/O taught her all kinds of new things, maybe this was another she should take heed of.

Seeing other people react to the bug, she moves to protect it like she would S/O.

Something that even it recognized, and protected Shenhe like its owner.

The only thing Shenhe dislikes about the bug is how clingy it got whenever she was wanting to spend time with S/O.

Other than that, the bug and Shenhe have a strange silent respect for each other.

(Dehya) "S/O, GET BACK!-"

Dehya suddenly leaps into action when a giant bug-like creature emerged from the sand behind S/O.

Before S/O got in the way, trying (and failing) to keep her arm down.

(S/O) "WAIT, DEHYA! I-It's with me!"

Dehya's expression was something between confusion and anger, quickly looking back at S/O and the bug.

Just as they said, it was just staring at her before turning its attention to its owner.

(Dehya) "Jeez, ya never thought to bring this up to me before?! It looks like it could eat us!"

(S/O) "I-If it makes you feel any better, it's like a vulture! A scavenger eater, only corpses!"

(Dehya) "It really doesn't..."

Dehya is honestly creeped the hell out by S/O's pet.

She's seen a lot of desert fauna, but nothing like what S/O had.

It especially didn't help matters that it liked to hide under the sand until S/O spent time with it.

She especially didn't like that it butted its head in whenever she wanted to hold S/O.

More than one occasion she was ready to tell it off before S/O did so gently, letting it gently comply.

The other mercs are completely freaked out by it, which she doesn't blame them for in the slightest.

But, it did help during their contracts by scaring the hell out of rival clients, other eremites, and animals in general.

Begrudgingly, she let S/O keep it, but then again maybe it's best it remains with them and doesn't wander off in the desert to potentially reproduce.

Candace notices something shifting in the sands near S/O, which she immediately raises her spear to throw at-

Before S/O frantically waved their hands, signaling to her not to attack.

Candace sees the bug emerge from the sand as it gives S/O a lift, riding towards her.

She takes a step back from unease, sizing the bug up and down before turning to S/O.

(Candace) "Have you...tamed this creature?"

(S/O) "K-Kinda? I didn't really tame it per se, more like we became friends!"

Candace did acknowledge it had some kind of intelligence in its eyes, as it responded perfectly to S/O's commands.

Being reassured by S/O that it would not attack the people of Aaru village, or eat the children, she allowed it to stay.

It took a bit for her to get used to it, but she no longer flinches seeing the bug.

It helped that it didn't seem to be naturally part of the desert, since she had never seen anything like it before.

Eventually, it became as much of a guardian of the town as Candace, much to her shock.

When S/O was threatened, the bug leapt from the sands and dragged them under, and the same went for any of the townsfolk.

The only thing she asks is that it sleeps outside, mostly just cause it'd drag sand all over the floor.

(S/O) "HOLY CRAP, GIANT BUG!-"

S/O immediately aims her umbrella-shotgun before S/O stopped her from pulling the trigger.

(S/O) "W-WAIT! NAVIA, IT'S MY PET!"

(Navia) "Your pet?! That thing could eat one of the Clockwork Meka whole!"

She shuddered in terror as it skittered towards S/O, seemingly lax by their mere presence.

This sure as hell wasn't a man's best friend situation, and every cell in her body wanted to shoot it.

But seeing as it was with S/O, she very reluctantly let S/O keep it.

The only thing is that it HAD to stay outside the city and only in S/O's home.

Every single Meka and Guard would be trying to kill it, not that she wouldn't blame them either.

Navia screams in terror everytime she opens the door to find it turn its head towards her.

Why couldn't S/O just have a cat or something...?

Her urge to stomp the bug grows bigger when she moves to hug or kiss S/O, only to watch it approach from seeming jealousy.

[skipper1331]

dancing in the snow // Esme Morgan

a/n: based off this request.

"Did anyone see you?" you asked as Esme joined you in the storage room of the Manchester City facility.

"No" she whispered into the dark.

Your arms looped around her neck as hers went around your waist, the spot were they always rested, "I’ve missed you"

In an instant, your lips pressed against hers. Even though, you were together all day long, training with the team, you couldn‘t be with her the way you wanted to.

It was hard not to look at each other for too long.

It was hard to keep your hands to yourselves.

It was hard not to blush at the slightest touches.

It was hard to act like friends.

Because you weren’t.

"I‘ve missed you too" you muttered, pecking her lips over and over. The sweet girl giggled, her thumbs drawing circles into your sides as she looked at you with heart eyes.

Esme was head over heels.

She loved the way you smiled.

She loved the way you laughed.

She loved the way you talked.

She loved that you were you, no matter what.

"Are you coming to mine later?" she asked shyly, cheeks turning into a deep shade of red.

"yes" you replied, smiling sincerely.

Esme and you haven’t been dating for long, everything somehow still new but at the same time not anymore. "I‘ll see you later then" she grinned, pressing one final kiss to your forehead before she slipped out of the room.

-

Your head was resting on Esme’s lap as she absentmindedly massaged your scalp, her main focus on your beautiful eyes. "You‘re so beautiful" she smiled, absolutely smitten. Your cheeks turned red as you covered your face, an upside down smile displayed on your face. "No, don‘t cover it" she grumbled, her hands grasping your wrists gently, "let me see that pretty face of yours"

As she pulled them down, you grinned at her, still blushy cheeks.

After admiring each other for another while, you broke the silence, "I’ve been thinking, maybe we could go to the christmas market?" you asked with puppy dog eyes. Esme could never resist those eyes or say no to you in general, not that she would have either.

Not even 10 minutes later, the two of you left her flat, both of you dressed in winter wear. Her hand firmly held yours as you walked to the city centre. Christmas music was heard from miles away, the colourful lights seen from afar. "It‘s awesome" you stated, admiring the scenery in front of you. "Yeah, you are" Esme sheepishly replied, her eyes only on you. She loved the way your smile reached the corner of your eyes. "Cheeky girl" you giggled, looping your arms around her neck as you laid your head on her chest. Instantly, her arms went around your waist as she pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Slowly but surely, you started to sway along the faded music, wrapped in your own little bubble.

It was nothing but the sweetness of your relationship..

As a new song started playing, you pulled your head back, still close in her embrace as you inhaled the feeling, the feeling of christmas, the feeling of love.

..dancing in the falling snow.

"I love you" Esme blurted out as the song ended while she placed the loose strand of hair behind your ear. Her touch was gentle and careful - like always.

Your breath hitched. Those three words, the words you have been waiting to hear desperately.

She looked at you with wide eyes, just realizing what she said yet not regretting it.

Esme was in love with you.

Esme loved you.

And this was the perfect moment to tell you.

The widest grin displayed your features, "I love you too." - she matched your smile, heart beating in her chest.

Then you kissed her, standing on tip toes, your hands cupping her cheeks as you softly pressed your lips against hers. The kiss didn‘t last long, both too occupied with smiling at each other - it was like in the movies.

-

"Es!" you yelled from the living room, jumping off the couch, marching towards the kitchen. Esme met you halfway, the panic in your voice clear. "What‘s wrong??" she asked, looking for any sign of injury. "Baby, talk to me" she pleaded as get anxious. You just looked at her, not able to form some words into a sentence. Your mind was blank. Somehow you managed to hold up your phone, only a black screen visible for Esme. "Is something with it? It‘s not broken."

you shook your head. no.

"open it" you whispered, almost inaudible.

She did.

And then she saw it or rather them.

Multiple pictures of the two of you dancing and kissing in the snow. How could you be so careless? "Esme- I’m sorry" you cried, shoulders sagging as your head hung low. "Baby, why are you apologizing?" the defenders hands cupped your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the spilt tears. "That‘s not what you wanted" you sniffed, glossy eyes looking at the beauty herself.

"What are you talking about?"

"Us, public"

"Oh my love" her arms wrapped around your smaller figure, "I don’t mind. I just wanted you to be comfortable with every next step we take" she explained.

-

"Are you excited to see the girls?" Esme asked sweetly as you stared out of the window, St. George’s Park near. "you know I am" you smiled, interviewing your fingers.

It was silent for a few minutes.

"What, um, what about us?" you asked not louder than a whisper, "Do you think they know? What will we do?"

She looked at you, eyes scanning your features, "those pictures made headlines, I think they know and it won‘t change a thing" she replied, her free hand reaching up to cup your cheek, "we‘ll be professionals and girlfriends."

"Okay"

"Maybe there will be some teasing or maybe some explaining to do but that doesn‘t change anything between us" she looked at you with so much adoration, her eyes shining with nothing but love for you. Your cheeks turned red, burning under her touch while her words effected you happily, "I love you" you said shyly, her intense gaze making your knees weak.

"I love you too"

-

Arriving at St. George’s Park and settling down in your rooms felt great. You were excited to be there and for the upcoming nations league matches. You shared your room with Lotte like you always did while Esme was rooming with Hempo. Lotte greeted you with a bear hug as you entered the room - the two of you close friends since the u-teams.

"Young Lady! You‘ve got some explaining to do" she pointed her finger at you strictly, crossing her arms yet letting you go further into the room.

Meanwhile a similar conversation started in Esme’s room.

Esme was unpacking her suitcase as she felt eyes burning into the back of her head. "Do you want to say something?" she laughed, turning around to see the blonde city player glaring at her.

"pretty little girlfriend huh?" she only said, the defender blushing shyly.

"When did it happen?" Lotte asked you.

"A few months ago"

"You do realize I want more information?!"

"I asked her out after the derby" Esme muttered, nervously scratching her arm, "it left my lips before I could even think about it" subconsciously she started to smile, "she said yes" Hempo smiled as she heard the defender ramble on about your first date. She always knew Esme had a crush on you and it made her proud to know that the sweet girl found the courage to ask you.

"Does she treat you right?" Lotte asked as you finally gave her more information. It didn’t take her long to crack your facade - it was Esme who you were talking about, the mention of her name made you tell her everything already. "I won‘t hesitate to hurt her if not" the brunette stated firmly. "She does" you answered, "she treats me like a princess."

"You really lover her, don‘t you?"

Wide eyes looked at the City forward, was it that obvious?

"I do" a big smile made its way on her face, "she makes me very happy and my heart goes crazy every time she smiles or laughs or- by anything she does" she admitted, eyes so full of love as she talked about you. She was so incredibly in love with you.

-

The rest of the evening continued like that, both of you secretly enjoyed talking about your relationship. Neither of you was ashamed or feared to admit the love you held for one another.

Yes, your relationship was still somehow new - not even a year together but that didn‘t change anything.

Esme loved you.

You loved Esme.

So while you might just were a couple since a few months, many happy years were about to come.

-

The next morning, Esme waited patiently for you in front of your room. She smiled as you stepped out of it, "Hey"

Standing on your tip toes, you leaned up to kiss her good morning, both of you smiling at the simple touch of your lips. "Good morning, Lotte" she greeted your roommate who had also stepped out of the room.

"Morning" sleepy Lotte replied who started walking ahead to get her needed coffee. The two of you followed her, talking about anything and everything.

As you arrived at breakfast, the room fell silent, all eyes on you. What was going on?

"Lovebirds!"

esme.morgan

lucybronze and 23.371 others

esme.morgan ❄️

———————

[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.”

[milliesfishes]

imagine billy or coryo with a reader that’s quite literally insatiable like she just doesn’t want to stop and keeps going

this would be me with either of them

Billy:

Honestly, Billy would prolly be sooo receptive to this: you like kissing him and you do it a lot, which is good because he happens to love it too. Imagining him kissing you like under a tree, and it started very innocently but quickly turned into something else.

He hardly has time to remove his jacket and put it on the ground behind you for you to lay on because you're tugging at his clothes. But he isn't going to take you against the hard ground; it's just not his way.

Billy's fonder of slow intimacy that takes time, but he isn't opposed to something hard and fast, especially if you're feeling needy and you ask. In all truth, he just loves how much you want him.

Nearly every time afterward you'd sit up after a few minutes and rest your chin on his chest. "Again?"

It'd make him laugh. "Didn't I wear ya out 'nough?"

And you'd shake your head and go to sit on his hips. His hands would automatically come to your waist, bordering on your ass. "Damn, you're real pretty. Alright, lemme-" then Billy would sit up to kiss you, his hands wandering your body again.

When you requested a third time, he'd shake his head in astonishment, a lazy grin drawing his lips upward. "Baby, don't know if I've got another one in me. 'Sides, ya might not be able to walk tomorrow."

"Please?" you'd take his big hand and press it to your breast, bouncing a little in his lap. Both actions had his eyes moving to your chest, watching them go up and down.

"Naughty." But he'd oblige- he always did. And if Billy was too tired to give it to you that way anymore, he'd pull you up so your thighs were on either side of his face, his fingers leaving little bruises as he held you down, right where he wanted you.

When you finally became tired, he'd pull you so you were right up against him because he loved to hold you after making love, your sweaty bodies nearly melding as one again.

(Young Politician) Coryo:

Before meeting you, Coryo probably would have thought he was insatiable, but he quickly realized after the first time he slept with you that it was nothing compared to your appetite.

He'd whisper dirty things to you at parties you went to together, enjoying the way you'd look at him coyly after, knowing it would be a long night in the best way.

Once you were back at the penthouse he'd tease you as you undressed each other. "How many rounds do you think this time, hm? Or will you give out before I'm done with you?"

"I haven't yet, have I?" you'd pull on his loosened tie to bring him into a kiss.

Smirking against your lips, he'd say, "Rounds don't include my fingers or my mouth. We'll see if you can put your money where your mouth is."

It was a game for the two of you; seeing how long either of you could last before you were worn out. Though Coryo would always talk a big game about not helping you, he'd always hold your hips up if you were too tired or take a few minutes pause to give you a break before going at it again.

There would be one night where you were particularily riled up, and when the door was shut behind you, you'd pull your hair over one of your shoulders and turn so your back was facing him, waiting for him to unzip your dress. But he didn't.

After a minute you turned around and he was stripping himself of his clothes, taking his time folding them neatly. When you asked what he was doing he looked at you, blue eyes piercing. "Getting ready for bed."

Frowning, you'd go over to him. "But...but..."

He gave you a sharp grin. "Let's see how long you can go without me touching you, sweetheart. I bet you'll be shaking by morning."

It was a cruel game. Your mouth opened slightly in disbelief, and you squeezed your thighs together, frowning as Coryo fully got in bed and rolled on his side, facing away from yours.

That night was a long one.

When he came home the next day, whistling annoyingly and rolling up his sleeves, you nearly tackled him, sending him tumbling to the floor of your bedroom with your legs on either side of his.

Just as you'd thought, he'd been wanting you just as badly.

Coryo let one hand fall over his head as he lazily looked up at you. "Couldn't even make it a full day."

"Shut up." You covered his mouth with yours and he finally touched you, giving you lots of attention that night where you really wanted it.

The joke was on him; he couldn't last twenty-four hours without touching you either. Because he was just as insatiable as you.

come talk about billy and coryo here!

[estapa-edwards]

SCARED - J. HUGHES

paring: Jack Hughes x fem! reader

word count: 1.8k

requested? yes - jack being in love with quinn’s long time best friend like everyone knows but her. and he’s never tried to confess because he doesn’t think she likes him and didn’t want to mess up the friendship with quinn.

warnings: use of y/n.

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Jack sat across the room, stealing glances at Y/N as she laughed at something Quinn said. He couldn't help but admire the way her eyes sparkled with joy, the way her smile illuminated the room. She had been Quinn's best friend for years, and Jack had been drawn to her from the moment they met.

But he kept his feelings buried deep, hidden beneath the guise of friendship. He didn't dare confess his love for Y/N, fearing it would complicate things between him and Quinn. Their friendship was precious to him, and he couldn't bear the thought of jeopardizing it.

During the weekend getaway at the Michigan house, Jack found himself captivated by every moment spent in Y/N's presence. From the first evening when she arrived, her laughter echoed through the halls, drawing everyone closer like moths to a flame.

The first meal together was a casual affair, filled with chatter and laughter. Jack found himself sitting across from Y/N, stealing glances whenever he thought she wasn't looking. Her smile was infectious, lighting up the room and warming Jack's heart in a way he hadn't experienced before.

As the weekend unfolded, Jack and Y/N found themselves naturally gravitating towards each other. They took leisurely walks by the lake, the gentle lapping of the water providing a soothing backdrop to their conversations. With each step, Jack felt himself falling deeper under Y/N's spell, her easygoing nature putting him at ease.

Late-night conversations became the highlight of Jack's day. Whether they were huddled around the fireplace or sitting out on the porch under a blanket of stars, Jack found himself opening up to Y/N in ways he never had before. They shared stories, dreams, and secrets, forming a bond that felt as natural as breathing.

"So, tell me about your favorite childhood memory," Y/N prompted, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Jack chuckled, memories flooding back. "Well, there was this one time when I was seven, and I decided to build a fort in the backyard. I spent the whole day gathering sticks and blankets, and when I was finally done, it was the best fort in the whole neighborhood."

Y/N's laughter filled the room, music to Jack's ears. "That sounds amazing! I wish I could have seen it."

They talked long into the night, sharing childhood anecdotes, dreams for the future, and everything in between. With each passing moment, Jack felt himself opening up to Y/N in ways he never had before, a sense of ease settling over him like a warm embrace.

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On another night, they sat out on the porch under a blanket of stars, the gentle rustle of the wind the only sound breaking the stillness of the night. The sky above was a canvas painted with a thousand twinkling lights, a sight that never failed to awe Jack.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Y/N whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Jack nodded, his gaze fixed on the heavens above. "It's breathtaking. Makes you realize how small we are in the grand scheme of things."

Y/N leaned closer, her presence comforting in the quiet of the night. "But it also reminds us of the beauty in simplicity, the moments that take our breath away."

As the weeks passed by, Jack and Y/N found themselves constantly staying in touch, their messages and calls becoming a regular part of their daily routine. They laughed at each other's jokes, shared the mundane details of their days, and offered support and encouragement whenever it was needed.

Despite the undeniable connection between them, neither Jack nor Y/N dared to confess their feelings, not even to themselves. They danced around the truth, tiptoeing on the edge of something more, but always stopping short of taking the leap.

Yet, everyone around them seemed to sense the unspoken tension between Jack and Y/N. Quinn raised an eyebrow whenever Jack mentioned Y/N’s name, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Friends exchanged knowing glances whenever Jack and Y/N were in the same room, as if silently urging them to acknowledge the obvious.

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Jack sat on his bed, phone pressed to his ear, a smile playing on his lips as he listened to Y/N’s voice drift through the line.

Y/N: “…And then, can you believe it? I tripped over my own shoelaces in the middle of the street!”

Jack chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Only you, Y/N. Only you could manage to turn something as simple as tying your shoelaces into a comedy routine.”

Y/N laughed, the sound like music to Jack’s ears. “Hey, you’ve gotta find humor in the little things, right?”

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on everything from their favorite movies to their most embarrassing childhood memories. Jack found himself opening up to Y/N in ways he never had before, a sense of ease settling over him like a warm blanket.

Y/N: “So, what about you, Jack? Any exciting plans for the weekend?”

Jack hesitated for a moment, the truth lingering on the tip of his tongue. But instead, he opted for a nonchalant response. “Oh, you know, just the usual. Probably catch up on some reading and maybe hit the gym.”

Y/N: “Sounds like a blast,” she teased, her tone playful.

Just then, the sound of the door opening interrupted their conversation, and Jack’s heart skipped a beat.

Quinn: “Hey, Y/N, hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Y/N’s voice brightened. “Not at all, Quinn. Just catching up with Jack.”

Jack’s mind raced as he tried to mask the sudden nervousness that washed over him. He knew Quinn had a knack for picking up on things, and the last thing he wanted was for her to suspect anything between him and Y/N.

Jack: “Hey, Quinn. How’s it going?”

Quinn: “Can’t complain. Just thought I’d drop by and say hi. Didn’t mean to interrupt your phone call.”

Y/N: “No worries, Quinn. It’s always good to hear from you.”

As Quinn joined them in the conversation, Jack couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over him. He knew that his feelings for Y/N were still safely tucked away, hidden beneath the guise of friendship. But as he glanced at Y/N’s name flashing on his phone screen, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was something more waiting to be discovered between them.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

The arena buzzed with excitement as the Devils faced off against the Canucks in a highly anticipated match-up. Jack, clad in his Devils jersey, skated onto the ice with determination, his eyes focused on the puck as he prepared for the game ahead. Beside him, Quinn, sporting the Canucks colors, exchanged a competitive grin, ready to give it their all.

As the game progressed, the tension on the ice was palpable. Jack and Quinn clashed repeatedly, each vying for control of the puck and striving to outmaneuver the other. The crowd roared with every shot, every save, caught up in the intensity of the match.

But amidst the flurry of action, Jack's attention was drawn to the stands, where a familiar figure caught his eye. There, in the sea of cheering fans, stood Y/N, her face illuminated by a bright smile as she waved enthusiastically.

Jack's heart skipped a beat as he watched Y/N, his gaze lingering on her figure. She wore a unique jersey, half Devils red and half Canucks blue, a playful nod to the rivalry between the two teams. Jack couldn't help but grin at the sight, feeling a surge of affection for Y/N wash over him.

Quinn noticed Jack's distraction and followed his gaze, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as she caught sight of Y/N in the stands. He nudged Jack playfully, a knowing glint in his eye.

Quinn: "Looks like someone's got a fan in the stands."

Jack's cheeks flushed slightly as he tore his gaze away from Y/N, focusing back on the game at hand.

Jack: "Yeah, she's... supportive."

Quinn chuckled, his competitive spirit undiminished as he refocused his attention on the game. But Jack couldn't shake the image of Y/N from his mind, her presence in the stands serving as a reminder of the deeper feelings he harbored for her.

As the game wore on, Jack's determination only grew stronger. With Y/N's unwavering support fueling him, he pushed himself harder, skating faster, and shooting with precision. And when the final buzzer sounded, signaling the Devils' victory, Jack couldn't help but feel a swell of pride, knowing that Y/N had been there to witness his triumph.

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After weeks of dancing around their feelings, Jack and Y/N found themselves at a crossroads. The tension between them had reached a breaking point, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air whenever they were together. And one fateful evening, as they sat on the porch under a blanket of stars, the weight of their emotions became too much to bear.

The silence between them was deafening, the only sound the soft rustle of the wind as it swept through the trees. Jack's heart raced in his chest as he stole a glance at Y/N, her profile illuminated by the moonlight.

Jack: "Y/N, there's something I need to tell you."

Y/N turned to him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of what was to come. "What is it, Jack?"

Jack took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he prepared to lay bare his heart and soul. "I... I've been holding back for so long, afraid of ruining our friendship, but I can't keep it in any longer. I'm in love with you, Y/N. I have been for as long as I can remember."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest as she processed Jack's words. She had suspected, had felt the same longing in her own heart, but hearing Jack confess his feelings aloud sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/N: "Jack, I... I don't know what to say."

Jack's heart sank at the uncertainty in Y/N's voice, fearing he had made a mistake in laying his feelings bare. But before he could utter another word, Y/N reached out and took his hand in hers, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through him.

Y/N: "I've been holding back too, Jack. Afraid of losing our friendship, of what might happen if I admitted how I feel. But the truth is, I'm in love with you too."

Jack's eyes widened in disbelief, his heart soaring with a joy he had never known. In that moment, everything else faded away—their fears, their doubts, their uncertainties—leaving only the two of them, bathed in the glow of the moonlight and the warmth of their newfound love.

And as they leaned in to share their first kiss, Jack knew that some risks were worth taking, especially when it came to matters of the heart. For in Y/N's arms, he had found everything he had ever been searching for, and more.

[zweiginator]

I just want patrick to be so disgusting with me, spitting in my face, rubbing his dick and balls all over my face. calling me his nasty little cockwhore, would be such an honor 😭

being a little goody two shoes who has never done anything wrong. you've had a couple of boyfriends but you never did anything more than make out with them, maybe give them a half-assed handjob when they begged for it.

you meet patrick and something inside you switches on. this carnal need to please him and to be pleased. you had never felt horny in the traditional sense until you met him. never felt the need to squeeze your legs together and beg for more, more, more.

there's something about patrick. his smirks and body language. how he towers over you and commands the attention of the room. it makes you need that attention all for yourself.

and you get it--patrick thinks you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. but he knows your reputation. he says it's a shame. he could really show you a good time.

so you find yourself being degraded by him. you find yourself liking it. getting a little tipsy at a party that he's at and tapping on his shoulder. he's talking to another girl but she's quickly forgotten and patrick asks what you're doing there. you're not a party girl. and don't you have a boyfriend?

but you shake your head. no, you don't. you just broke up with him. patrick smiles. it's conniving. the way he looks at you sends shockwaves up your spine, down to your core.

you hang off each other all night. your lips are close to touching, his hands fall on your waist.

you look up at him with one goal in mind.

"please take me home."

patrick thumbs over your jaw. he realizes you don't want to go home, you want to go wherever he's going.

he parked down the street. he can't drive you anywhere but he'll usher you into the backseat. it's heavy breathing and even heavier petting. patrick yanks you onto his lap. he asks you what changed, why you're being easy now.

and you just shrug. your boyfriends didn't do it for you. didn't turn you on. you say it so matter-of-factly. patrick wants to defile you.

his hands snake up your shirt and play with your tits. your nipples are sensitive and your head rolls back as he rucks your shirt up to suck on you. he's drooling. pawing and kneading your skin so hard it's on the verge of hurting but it's patrick.

you rut against his cock; it's rock hard. his hand yanks yours down to feel him, and he catches your lips with his. hot kisses, sloppy and needy. the kind that are disgusting and perverted. the kind you would never let your boyfriend give you. patrick tilts your head back and parts your lips with his thumb. he drops a glob of spit into your mouth. it triggers something in you, how he's treating you. so gentle yet firm. bordering on disrespectful. but you'd let him do it all.

it's how you end up on your knees. patrick pushed the passenger seat down and he's reveling in how you drool for him. he strokes his cock over your face, over your mouth. he's heavy, he's red. his balls are taut and he wants to cum. he feels like he might, because he tells you to be a good fucking slut and kiss him. lick him. worship him.

you do. and you let him shove his cock into your mouth, pushing it against your cheek. you let him slap it over your face, the precum dribbling on your cheek as you kiss the base of his shaft down to the sensitive seam of his sack. you want him to fuck you but he won't. not yet. he wants to prolong this. he wants you aching for him. you already are, but once he's done with you--you won't be able to fucking take it anymore.

as you suck on his balls, you blink up at him and he grabs your jaw forcefully. you draw in a breath, almost suffocated by him. and just to rub it in, how much power he has over you, he spits on your face.

"dirty fucking girl."

[7ndipity]

He Forgets Your Birthday

Jin x Reader

Summary: Jin just wants to make your birthday memorable, but what happens when life gets too hectic and makes him forget?

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: angst, swearing

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Sorry it took me a little bit to get to.

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Life moved quickly with Jin, in multiple ways.

The first time you ever met, he asked for your number, fearing you wouldn’t cross paths again and he might not get another chance. You both said ‘I love you’ less than two months into dating, after he accidentally let it slip out during one of your first nights together, you even ended up moving in with him after less than a year when the apartment you were subletting fell through(or more accurately, flooded through, but whatever)

Things also moved quickly because of your careers. Sometimes days would flick by without your realizing, a week would turn into two before either of you noticed, and then suddenly it’s been nearly two months since your last technical date.

Despite your reassurances that you understood, Jin felt guilty at times for the two of you missing out on special occasions like holidays or anniversaries with each other, but one day he promised he wouldn’t let slip past was your birthday.

You weren't exactly a fan of making a big fuss for your birthday, but Jin wanted to make it special for you.

“I’ll cook,” He’d promised you. “I’ll make all your favorites, as well as traditional seaweed soup for good luck, and then we’ll do whatever you want for the rest of the day.”

“What if I don’t want to do anything?” You’d asked, raising a brow as you sat on his lap.

“Then we’ll do nothing together,” He’d replied, pulling you closer. “And have a wonderful time doing it.”

It’d been an easy promise to make when your birthday was still almost a month away, but as the days and weeks passed, things became increasingly hectic. Comeback season was drawing close, and with it came the pressure and chaos of constant rehearsals, video shoots, and promotional activities, leaving Jin little time to think about much else. Half the time you were already asleep before he got home at night, tiredly wrapping himself around you for a few precious hours before starting the cycle all over again.

He didn’t even know what day of the week it was until Jimin spoke up as they slumped against the wall, trying to catch their breath during rehearsals.

“Oh, how’s Y/n? Did they like their gift?” Jimin asked. “I haven't heard from them since I texted happy birthday this morning.”

Jin felt his heart screech to a stop as he looked over at the younger man, hoping he had misheard. “What?”

“The flowers you helped us pick out? I figured they would’ve-” Jimin’s voice trailed off as he noticed the growing look of horror on Jin’s face. “Tell me you didn’t forget?”

Jin’s whole body felt cold as he fumbled for his phone, stomach dropping as he read the date, and then the numerous text notifications from you.

His hands shook as he read your words, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

‘You left this morning before I got to say it, but love you💖’

‘Do you know what time you’ll be home?’

'Ngl, I'm kinda excited for tonight, it's been ages since I had your cooking😋'

‘Jinnie? Is everything okay?’

‘You’re not coming, are you?’

‘You could at least answer your phone so I know you’re okay.’

Shit.

Sparing no time explaining to the others, he grabbed his things and bolted out the door, nearly sprinting for the elevators.

He couldn’t believe how badly he’d fucked up, you must’ve been so upset with him. How would he even explain himself to you? Would you even talk to him when he got home? He wouldn’t blame you if the answer was no.

“Y/n?” He called as he opened the door but the house was silent, all the lights off, the stillness seeming to loom over him as he kicked off his shoes.

Tip-toeing through the house, he caught sight of the bouquet of flowers the guys had sent you sitting proudly in the center of the dining table, their cheery brightness almost mocking him now.

As he neared your shared bedroom, he caught sight of a sliver of light slipping out into the hall from the crack in the door.

Peeking in, he found you curled up on your side of the bed, sound asleep, but he could tell by the puffiness around your eyes that you’d been crying, shattering his heart completely.

He slowly sank down on the bed next to you, gently brushing your hair out of your face.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” He choked, tears blurring your image in front of him. He felt like the worst boyfriend in the world, how could he have forgotten something like this?! He had promised you!

He’d always tried so hard to live up to his commitments and responsibilities in your relationship, no matter how small, but in the moment when it mattered the most, he’d failed you.

“Jinnie?” Your cracked, sleep laden voice snapped his attention back up to you, meeting your tired eyes.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” He said, crying in earnest now.

“ ‘s okay.” You said drowsily, too tired to fight with him.

“It’s not. I made you a promise, and I fucked up.” He said, wiping his face.

You didn’t speak, sitting up slowly and pulling him into a hug. As upset as you might’ve been, you couldn’t stand to see him cry.

You wouldn’t lie, you were deeply hurt, but it wasn’t just for you. You’d seen how hard he’d been working lately, coming home late sore and exhausted, bags under his eyes from fatigue. You hated seeing him so tired all the time, so stressed and not able to do anything about it. You knew that under normal circumstances, he would’ve never forgotten, but your lives weren’t normal.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He cried into your neck. “I’ll find a way.”

“Jinnie, I don’t care about the dinner,” You said, trying not to start crying again yourself as you pulled back to look at him. “All I really wanted was to be with you.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“Just come hold me, please.” You half dragged him under the covers with you, winding your limbs around each other tightly.

Neither of you spoke much as you slowly drifted off to sleep, clinging to each other desperately, needing to feel each other to be sure you were both still there.

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you found his side of the bed empty.

Sitting up slowly, you glanced around, questions only just beginning to form in your mind before you heard a faint noise from somewhere in the house, the scent of one of your favorite dishes drifting through the open bedroom door.

Still groggy, you climbed out of bed and followed the smell to your kitchen, where you found your missing boyfriend, his back to you as he stood over the stove, fussing at something he was stirring.

“Why are you so salty? I didn’t even add that much.”

“Maybe it’s just in a bad mood.”

He turned at the sound of your voice, eyes softening as they found you in the doorway, messy hair and sleep clouded eyes, wearing one of his pajama tops as a sleepshirt.

“I thought you were still asleep.” He said softly.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“Fulfilling my promise to you.” He said, turning back to the stove for a moment as he spoke. “It’s not quite all of your favorites, but it’s a start. Plus, we’ve got the whole day to do whatever else you want to do.”

“I have work.” You said, not unkindly.

“No, you don’t.” He responded. “I left them a message saying you were sick and couldn’t come in today.”

“Sick with what?” You asked.

“Bad boyfriend-itis,” He said, coming over to hook his arms round your waist. “It’s a very serious condition, it requires a lot of rest and care to recover from.”

“You’re not a bad boyfriend.” You said quietly, fiddling with his shirt collar.

“I’m not so sure about that.” He said, frowning.

“Well, I am.” You pushed up on your toes to press your lips to his softly, making him melt instantly. You let your hands slowly trail up and around his neck, earning a slight shiver from him before you pulled away to look at him. “What about rehearsals?”

“I told them the same thing as your work.” He said with a slightly dazed grin.

“You have boyfriend-itis too?” You raised a brow at him questioningly.

“Are you kidding? I’m patient zero.” He replied, earning a giggle from you, making his heart swell as he smiled down at you.

“Go back to bed,” He said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

“I don’t wanna go back to bed.” You said, wrapping your arms around his waist, looking up at him seriously. “I told you last night, I just want to be with you.”

“Alright then.” He hooked his hands under your thighs, boosting you up to sit on the counter with a surprised squeak from you. “You can sit here and be my lovely assistant.”

“I don’t even know what you’re making.” You giggled again.

“Doesn’t matter, just follow my lead and make yummy noises when I show you something.”

The two of you talked as he continued cooking, stopping each time he passed by you to leave a kiss on your waiting lips. Once everything was ready, you moved to the table, sitting close enough that you could reach over and grab his hand as he settled next to you.

He glanced up at you. “What is it?”

“Just thank you.” You said.

He tilted his head. “For what?”

“Being you. Being here.”

Jin felt the familiar twisting in his chest as he leaned over to press another kiss to your lips.

“Always.” He promised.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake again, he swore to himself, he would be there for you, no matter what else was going on. You were his world, his heart, and he would make sure you knew that from now on.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan

[sweatandwoe]

A Game of Composure

You and Zayne play a game. If you make him lose control, you win. If he keeps his composure, you lose - but really, it's still a win.

Warnings: MDNI. NSFW. Zayne x GN!Reader, Established Relationship, Blowjobs, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Degradation, Aftercare

-

He was always so composed. Which made sense, given his occupation. He had to be cold, had to be calm, had to always act like nothing affected him. 

Even now, you can tell he’s trying to keep that composure. His pen scratches across the paper as he reads over dossiers and medical reports. One hand is on the pen but you know the other one must be curled over his mouth. Scarred fingers covering those pretty lips, and his brow is probably all lined. He wanted to win the game so badly, that you almost wanted to take pity on him. 

Almost. 

You hollow out your cheeks, closing your eyes as you bob your head. There’s the tap of his foot, slow and then fast as you drag his cock further into your mouth. One hand curls over his thigh and the other is wrapped around the base of his shaft, holding him steady while you proceed to give him some of your best. 

If he lost his composure in five minutes, you’d win and he’d fuck you over his desk. If he won, he’d fuck your mouth. In your view, it was a win either way. A nice break from his Ice King persona.

Humming, you can feel the muscle in his thigh twitch under your hand. Each sound you make gets a clench of the muscle or a twitch, but no words, no noises coming from above you. So you suck loudly with no thought beyond the idea of his cock inside of you. Bending you over his desk and taking you roughly, a hand over your mouth and his panting breath against your ear-

You shift on your knees, re-focusing on the task at hand. Slowly you slide your mouth upwards and give the tip a suck before pulling off. Your hand strokes him, raising up to draw down his foreskin enough to reveal the red, beading tip. You lean forward and just let out a breath onto it, and he shudders. The pen falls as his palm hits the desk, scattering close to your thigh. Still no vocal noises. 

Leaning forward, you lap at the tip, swirling your tongue around it. And then you’re dragging him back in, starting it all over again. But he hasn’t broken so far, no little sounds besides him moving the papers around the desk, maybe pretending to be doing something. 

It’s only after another minute that you realize that five minutes may not have been enough time. He was close to breaking but you weren’t sure how much time was left. So drastic measures had to be implemented, and you removed the hand from the base of his cock. Bracing both hands against his thighs, you moan as you bob your head further down, swallowing as you let his cock reach the back of your throat. It stings, choking you, and you can feel the tears in your lashes as you push your nose all the way to the base of him. This close, you can see him a little, can just see how he’s hunched over the desk. 

You hollow your cheeks, sucking and his hand is reaching down. He’s so close, his fingers inches away from the top of your head, and then -

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

Shit. 

You slowly pull your mouth off of him, pouting. He slides his chair back and you can see him fully now. 

He looks so close to wrecked. As far away from composed as you’ve ever seen him. His eyes are wild, wide, and staring down at you, but still have that little touch of softness to them. Zayne’s hand settles in your hair, gently tugging you forward. His cock is slick with your spit, and still standing at attention. 

“It was a noble effort.” He confesses, his voice strained. A quick glance up and down your body, as he has you kneel between his legs once more, just in the open space behind his desk. This way you can see the other. “I want you to touch yourself while I do this.” And then there was a pause, a flicker in his eyes. “Do you still want to do this?” 

“Yeah.” Your voice is horribly hoarse. Honestly, it’s hard to pick a time you’ve been more turned on than right now as you slide your fingers down your pants. “Please?” 

He groans and drags your head forward. His other hand guides his cock back into your mouth, and then it’s in your hair. The first few thrusts, he’s guiding your head along his shaft. It’s slow, careful, but once he feels you whine against his cock, he’s jerking your head down. You choke, but he keeps himself steady until your nose is against his pelvis. 

And then he starts to fuck your face. 

His hips move, but he mainly uses his hands. Keeping your head in place when he thrusts or wrapping your hair around his palm, so he can pull it as he moves you back and forth. And your fingers can’t stop rubbing, touching yourself. Moaning around his cock, feeling your head hollow out of thought as he uses your mouth. No other thoughts except for how good this feels. 

“You’re such a tease.” He says suddenly, slipping out your mouth. And then he’s standing, guiding his cock back into your mouth. He fucks into your throat, without any hesitation now and your eyes roll back as tears run down your cheeks. Drool is smearing all over your chin, and you don’t even care. Your fingers just move in tandem with the movements of his hips. 

“Every day. You are - fuck - teasing me. Just asking for this, aren’t you?” He’s groaning as he speaks, sweat dripping down his brow. Zayne’s head rolls back, as his hips start moving erratically, losing the rhythm and instead just chasing his pleasure. “You just want this.” 

You do, you want it so bad. Let him use you when he wants when he gets stressed out. Let him fuck your mouth, and let him bend you over anywhere he wants. You moan around him and that was all he needed. 

He pulls back, cumming over your tongue in spurts, his hips still moving back and forth in small increments. His face is flushed, and he’s panting, his hands going limp in your hair as he finally stops. You’re so close, just a little more but he’s dragging himself out of your mouth. Zayne’s hand tightens in your hair, tilting your head up to gaze up at him. He’s gazing down at you with a more familiar stern expression. “Swallow.” 

That’s done immediately, and you show your tongue to him. “Good.” He purrs the word out. His free hand gestures to your hand shoved in your pants. “Now finish.” 

You whimper and then groan, rubbing your fingers over yourself just enough until you let out a louder moan. Your thighs shake, and Zayne smiles as you cum. The next few minutes are a blur as he pulls you into his lap, settling into his office chair. His hands stroke over your back, and he uses his feet to swerve the chair back to his desk. “You did so well.” There’s praise, and comfort now. Though you didn't play like this often, Zayne was adamant about taking care of you after more rough scenes. 

This is why you aren’t surprised when a bottle of water is pressed to your lips, and you let him guide you into drinking a few mouthfuls before you move back. Resting against his chest, with a sigh before he kisses the top of your head. The office goes quiet, except for your breathing, and the silence settles comfortably around you. 

After a few minutes, you smile, glancing up at him through your lashes. “That was a fun game.” 

He gives a grunt, but you know he’s pleased. The next kiss lands on your cheek, and a few pecks landing on the tip of your nose. “Since I won this round, next time we play I’ll let you choose the battlegrounds.”

You blink, turning to gaze up at him. One of his hands moves to cup your cheek, cradling your face. It was a little nice after all that, you had to admit, even if you didn’t want him to treat you gently all the time. “Battlegrounds?” 

He smiles, his eyes falling half-closed. Leaning down, he lets his breath hit your ear. “You can decide how to try to make me lose composure. Any way you want.” 

You smile and lean upwards. His lips are so very close now, but you only let yourself hover close to them. “When’s your next day off?” 

You’re definitely winning the next round.