#i was listening to sticky while writing this lol

[qin-qin16]

For my blood orange duo fans @howlsofbloodhounds and @stellocchia

Delta is a monster who is always on high alert; it’s not something he can change, is it something he could ease? Maybe, especially after living with Color and Epic for so long (especially with Epic). Any little noise triggers a fight or flight response, and knowing how he is, Delta always chooses to fight (let’s just say the playful scares Epic pulled in the early days of their friendship weren’t exactly the most fun, always ending with a punch or kick).

This ability was extremely useful when Killer started showing up more and more in his life — slinking through the walls of his house, walking side by side with his friends (seemingly trying to mimic their movements, as if he didn’t know what to do during a friendly interaction), and what Delta considered the worst of all: being his shadow, crawling behind him as if waiting for some misstep.

What was truly terrifying was how Delta could always sense when Killer was behind him — how he could feel Killer’s gaze fixed on his back, despite never hearing his footsteps — and how their encounters usually ended with Delta almost lunging at Killer’s neck, growling at that ever-present static grin. And how could Killer resist the opportunity to further unsettle Delta with his presence? It was amusing watching him contemplate whether to leap onto his bones or simply retreat to another room. If it weren’t for Color, the first choice would probably happen more often.

[samantitaswrld]

ron eating pussy for the first time?

what you need | ron weasley x reader

|an: i missed writing lol and it’s hp season so i wanted to write for my man crush 4L since nobody writes enough abt him smh. also listened to what you need by the weeknd while writing this.

feel free to send me any ron or fred asks!

pure smut btw!

|w.c 1.1k

you’d been spending the last few weeks of summer at the burrow with the weasleys, just as tradition called for. except this year, you and ron had made things official between the two of you. ronald had always been your kryptonite. his pouty, pink lips, button nose, bright blue eyes, toned biceps, and thick thighs. now he was finally yours, yours to kiss, to hold, to fuck. to make feel good. 

 you were so worked up from earlier. watching ron and his older brothers joking around together, roughhousing around the burrow in his white wife beater and low-hung plaid pajama bottoms. all you could think about was how badly you wanted to rip them off of him. you felt yourself getting wetter and hotter as you watched him shove fred for a joke he had made about his love for his favorite quidditch team. 

ron had gotten so muscly this year; you wanted so badly to feel him roughhouse you, to throw you around, to overpower you with his strength as he pleasured you and— 

“what are you so deep in thought about, hm?” fred said as he collapsed on the couch next to you. 

“oh... nothing. where’s ron?” you'd said as you clenched your thighs together, upset as you noticed his presence was no longer there, no longer around for you to gawk at.

“your boyfriend went upstairs to get ready for bed, i reckon. it’s getting late; you might want to start heading up there too, don’t you think?” the older brother whispered in your ear; without hesitation, you stood up and made your way into ron’s room, knowing exactly what you wanted, what you needed. 

opening his door, you found ron sat on his bed, back against the headboard, tinkering with a trinket his brothers had given to him. you make eye contact as you swiftly shut the door behind you and make your way to your boyfriend. 

you reckon he’s felt the same way today too, as no words are exchanged between the two of you, yet the sexual tension hangs thick over the room. he looks up at you with those big, blue eyes, and you can feel the pulse of your heat as you grab his trinket from his hands and place it on his bedside table. 

he knows; he knows exactly what you want, what you need. he’s never done it before, but he’s never wanted to pleasure you so badly before. you look so sexy in your white, lacy tank top that hugs your curves in all the right ways and accentuates your breasts, the way your sleep shorts fit perfectly on your waist, the way that your long hair runs down your back, and the way that your skin glows with lust. lips pink and bitten raw and eyes lidded low, pupils dilated with want.

you pull one leg over his lap and straddle him as he wastes no time placing his hands on your hips to guide you there. you greet him with a warm, wet, and passionate kiss, pressing your hot pussy down onto his semi-hard cock.

he can feel the pulse of your pussy through your thin sleep shorts on his dick, groaning at the sensation. he realizes how worked up his poor girl has been all day; he knows exactly what his baby needs from him. 

you whimper and rut your clit against his hard cock as his large, calloused hands roam your hot body. he places his hand at the small of your back and flips the two of you over with your back against the mattress. 

“is this what you wanted, my love?” he says as he lowers himself face to face with your clothed cunt. 

you look down at him and nod slowly as you abuse your bottom lip with your teeth. ron understands how long you must’ve been waiting for this to be so dumb off the few moments of friction you shared. 

ron wastes no time sliding your shorts and panties off of your body in one fluid motion. you felt his large, calloused hands on your warm, sticky thighs, spreading your legs apart as he stared at your bare, wet pussy from between your legs with wide eyes. 

oh fuck 

he has no idea how to do this. 

“baby, do you need help?” you ask, staring down at him into his eyes as he slowly nods; he’s gotten shy and a little embarrassed that he took it this far without knowing what to do. but you feel the opposite; as a matter of fact, it kinda turns you on even more.

“don’t feel embarrassed, my love; just start with small licks, yeah? can you do that for me, ron?” you said to him, the tone of your voice, and the affection laced within your words makes his cock leak with anticipation as he begins to do exactly what you told him to. 

you feel ron’s warm, wet tongue softly lick a stripe along your clit, the feeling sending fireworks through your abdomen. you whimper as you throw your head back while he continues to lap at your clit with small, unsure motions.

you grip his head of hair, letting him know he’s doing everything right, encouraging him to venture out on his own and begin letting your moans dictate the way his tongue moves against your aching pussy. 

his tongue works magic on your pussy as he flattens his tongue out more, licking longer stripes along your folds and sucking on your clit as he reaches the top, his spit mixing with your juices and coating his chin as he sucks and laps at your cunt. 

it’s all too much as he messily and hungrily eats your pussy, the feeling of the wetness he created dripping down your cunt and thighs, the sounds of him slurping away at your clit, and the eye contact he’s making with you as he does so.

“ron, i can’t—i’m gonna cum. oh fuck,” you whisper shakily as you bite your bottom lip raw from muffling your own moans. one of your legs locking up and shaking from their position that he keeps them held up in the air.

without words, he takes it upon himself to lap at just your clit in a rapid, continuous motion that he thinks you seemingly enjoyed the most. this sends you over the edge completely. gripping at his hair tightly as you throw your head back into his pillow once more. 

assuming you’ve finished, by the way, your limbs went limp, he placed a final, lasting kiss on your clit before finding his way back up to face you as he placed another kiss on your warm, red lips. 

“did i do well?” he asked boastfully, a grin plastered across his face, assuming he already knows the answer to this question due to the state you’re in.

“mhmm…” was all you could muster up, as the kiss was all you needed to drift off into a satisfied sleep in your boyfriend's arms. 

[defmaybe]

Sticky

ITZY’s Shin Yuna x Male Reader

1.9k words

Prequel to Party Police

See also: Not Shy, Bahama

A/N: I write this in two sittings for probably the only mommy Yuna fic lol - BFH-type shit. No editing, no beta-reading, just pure lust again.

–

The clickings of the keyboards displace silence. Again, you’re stuck in the mundane cycle of doing another proposal for the project you’re going to lead. Sighs and sighs don’t keep you from drowsiness building up inside. Others don’t seem to do better even, some even folded on their desks already. The chilly breeze from the conditioner really is relentless right now, so damn perfect for a nap.

“Miss Shin wants you,” the secretary says, keeping you from falling into slumber.

You quickly get up from your desk, pacing towards the glass-paned office. You see your other co-workers dreading their assignments, clicking on their keyboards with blank eyes. On the opposite side, you can see, through the horizontal blinds, the vibrant office with your boss, Shin Yuna, doing the decorations inside. She’s tall (well, taller than you, at least), often confident, and so energetic, contrary to the department she just got handed over a few weeks ago.

You knock on the transparent door, seeing her putting on her Lady Bird poster on the wall. She’s wearing a one-piece raven black dress, one that hugs her slim, otherworldly curvy body so well. You can see her wide hips being so prominent, stripping away your fatigue.

“Come in!��� she says, looking over her shoulders as she’s finishing the touch-ups.

You open the door, greeted with the scent of her air purifier—spring. The white fur carpet on the floor welcomes you with the sensations on your soles. Her office is spacious, and the colorful decorations fit her attitude and personality so much.

“Please, sit down,” she says with a smile, hand pointing to the seat in front of her desk. Even the cluttering trinkets on her table never look crowded, they are so meticulously placed to give her a perfect amount of space left for her work.

You accept her invitation, walking towards the seat. Yuna also retreats from her sprinklings back to hers, sitting down in her chair gracefully—a charming boss.

The air hangs heavy for a while, as Yuna takes some time to clear her desk. You glance around the room like the other times. The crucial difference being the Lady Bird poster, of course, and a few more band posters that you can’t quite recall from your listening history.

“So…” Yuna breaks the silence, tapping a finger on her chin, contemplating. “I see that you’ve been looking a little tired. Is that true?”

You blabber out, “N-No! I’m not tired a-at all.” You even put your hands up to deny the allegation.

“Those eyes don’t lie, baby.” The utterance of the last word alone freezes you. Is she flirting?

Let’s pause for a bit. Shin Yuna just got promoted to being your department’s manager—now three weeks in tenure. Her bubbly and kind personality receives multiple acclaim from your co-workers. And combined with her insanely high performances in projects, you cannot see how she wouldn’t get the position. 

Now, that friendly personality can be a bit, to say the least, slightly invasive. Yuna has always been so eager to fire up a talk with people, even if it means robbing someone’s silence. She’s also always happy to help those around her, no matter the methods. You’ve heard some complaints about her vivacious nature, but with the results saying otherwise, you just cannot dislike her for that.

“A-Are you suggesting I should go home or s-something?” you ask, unable to register how she’s getting up to close the blinds, as if she’s asking for some privacy from the outside right now. The room seems to shrink.

“Oh, does it look like that? Not at all, baby,” there it is again, baby.

“As your boss, I have to make sure that you stay productive for the day’s work!” Her smile lights the room up, as she walks towards her chair and sits down again. “I can’t have my employees dreading their jobs and expect a satisfactory performance.”

“Y-You’re very kind, M-Miss Shin,” you stammer out, and she seems to be happy with your words.

“Now tell me.” Yuna leans in closer to you, giving you the fine details of her face—doe eyes, minty breath, rose-colored lips. “Are you familiar with… mommy kink?”

You freeze, not expecting such a question from your manager. The gears in your head are working their best to seek the best answer you can give her, let alone making sense of the peculiar situation.

“A-Aga-”

“I’m certain of what I’ve said, mister,” she cuts you off, stern. Her expression reduces into an emotionless state. “Mommy kink, yes or no.”

“Uh…” That’s the only answer you can give her. The prospect of fully submitting to Miss Shin Yuna seems too enticing. Yet, perhaps it’s your inhibition that’s stopping your desire from falling into places.

“Come, sit on my lap,” Yuna instructs.

You glance around the room—left, right, back—as if to delay the inevitable of her pleasuring you.

“Now,” Yuna now commands, her voice steps down a few notes. 

“And there’s no camera hidden here, I promise,” she says with a smile, comforting you a little.

You slowly get up from your seat. What if I don’t do well enough for her? You walk around her table to land at your destination, your back against her face. She adjusts her position on her chair a little to accommodate your ass.

Her thighs feel… strong—definitely a result of workouts she has had after work. The images of those sweaty, skimpy sessions are making your mouth quiver—the fluid dripping down her body, just for you to taste.

Her hands start from grabbing the both sides of your slutty hips, earning a small whimper from you.

“So yearning for mommy’s touch, aren’t you?” Yuna giggles, moving her frisky fingers to unbutton your blue shirt.

“Y-Yes, mommy.” Your breath comes out in a false rhythm.

With your abdomen being gradually exposed, she uses a hand to feel it a bit, sending shocks and shocks through your faltering body.

“F-Fuck.”

“Hmm, so needy for mommy~” Yuna then continues her groping, until the last button is freed. Your upper body is bare under the cold air of the conditioner right now, as she brings the fondling hand up to your throat.

“Do you want my lips on you, baby boy?” Yuna asks, breaths warming the back of your neck. You can only nod at her.

Consented, she plants her lips on your body, and you are sure that the rosy prints are going to stick with you until the end of the day. Still, is it a fact that you should care right now? Getting groped by your goddess of a manager, with her being your mommy, on top of it.

You shiver at her kisses.

She frees your throat  before drawing her hand down to play with your raging bulge. She can definitely feel your cock aching to be freed right now.

“Need a hand, baby?” again, she asks, hand fondling the tent in your pants.

You become a stuttering mess at this point. “Y-Yes, m-mommy, please.”

“Please… what, baby boy?” She’s playing coy with you for sure.

“P-Please use your hand on my c-cock, please,” you utter out.

She whispers into your ear, “Good boy.” 

She unzips your pants, hand then slithering into the hole. The sensations are even stronger right now, with your underwear being the only barrier between you and her.

She keeps kissing your moaning neck, printing roses wherever she can reach. Her hand is stuck in fondling your cock through the slim cloth.

“Mommy, p-please,” you whimper, desire burning too brightly.

“Say please again, baby boy, and I’ll touch your cock.” Yuna giggles, enjoying how you’re submitting to your boss so damn easily.

“Please, m-mommy.”

Yuna wastes no time to push all of your lower garments down in a single motion, exposing your throbbing, twitching cock in glory. She hums in satisfaction at the sight.

“Hmm~, baby boy, so hard for me already?” she asks, finger drawing a line on the back of your cock from the bottom to the top. It twitches in response.

“Ngh, y-yes, m-m-mommy.” Yuna seems to be happy with your answer as she strokes your cock leisurely.

Her slender fingers only do what they have to do: sliding up and down to make you shatter under her touch. She starts at a slow pace, only teasing you about what’s coming. Her other hand roams under your shirt, moving down onto your juicy ass.

“Ngh, mommy,” you utter, pleasure building up in your loins. The sensations become stronger as seconds passed.

Yuna giggles at your whimpering, “Yes, baby boy?”

“I-I-, ngh,” you cannot form any words under her spell. Fuck.

Yuna cannot hold her chuckle inside, clearly satisfied with her baby boy melting under her touch. “Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Faster, please,” you finally respond, slightly out of breath from the overwhelming sparks all over your body.

Yuna listens to your plea, quickening the strokes, bringing you closer to the edge. Fuck, your slutty moans are probably heard by the people outside now.

The squelches of Yuna’s strokes are filling the room, along with your needy whimpers and her satisfactory hums. “I just wanna spend the whole day jerking this cock~” Yuna expresses, your heart flutters at her words.

“And I mean it, really,” she continues, still keeping the moderate pace of her hand from behind. 

“The size, the curvature, the thickness, god, I’m sure it can stretch mommy’s cunt out so well,” she whispers, and your length just cannot get harder at this second.

“M-Mommy, would you berate me i-if I- fuck.” you struggle to lead your words out, stuttering everywhere you can. She’s still jerking your cock, nursing you with another hand roaming over your body to over stimulate.

“Fast cummer, baby?” She chuckles at your apprehension. “You’re doing well, baby. I think this is the perfect pace for us.”

“T-Thanks, mommy,” you say, feeling the tightening of your knot already. “M-Mommy, where c-can I cum?”

“Ooh, that’s an interesting question, baby boy,” Yuna laughs. “I don’t think the higher-ups would mind a few stains from us~,”

“W-Wha-”

“Shh, let mommy handle this,” she affirms. “Just stay on my lap and let me milk your cock, okay?”

Your mind goes feral, aching for release. Her hand relentlessly stroking your length and another traversing your compact frame just overloads your mind. “Y-Yes mommy.”

“Good boy, now, cum for me, please.”

And it hits, you become undone at her touch, like a lightning. Your sticky cum is shot everywhere—on her desk, on the floor, hell, even on yourself. You moan in the pleasure of her touch and the mind-shattering orgasm. “Mommy!” you shout. Yeah, everyone is going to hear that.

“Wow,” Yuna pants, before planting a kiss on your neck. She doesn’t seem to mind the fact that your seed is on her precious report right now. “You came so much for mommy.”

You try to catch your breath, before speaking out, “Thanks, mommy.”

–

[dollfacefantasy]

I saw you made a bimbo x toji and I started to wonder how DI or ID Leon would work out so if you have the time and want to do it would you make a short story or a headcannon?

hii so just to clarify i didn't write that bimbo reader x toji fic, that was just something i reblogged from another writer cause i liked it.

and i only really like bimbo reader in like a smut context (so basically an extension of dumbification lol) so that's what i'm gonna do <3

leon kennedy x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, daddy kink

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon has no problem pulling you into his lap. his lips land on your neck first, kissing down your throat to the spot that makes your breath hitch without fail. his hands slide over your curves, teasing your body beneath those tight, pretty pink clothes you always wear.

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon is quick to rip said clothes from your body. he savors your whines and weak protests telling him that this top was your favorite or that they don't sell that skirt anymore so be gentle. but he drops them to the floor all the same. he's even more obsessed with the delicate baby pink panties you wear and the lacy bra that matches.

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon can't stop himself from teasing you. as soon as he gets your bra off, he's all over your tits. he's squeezing them, kissing them, sucking little marks onto them. "think these things are bigger than your brain, babydoll," he murmurs. he can't stifle the laugh that comes out of him when you kick your heel into his calve and huff "that's mean."

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon always over apologizes, his insincerity clear in his tone. "you're right, my smart girl," he coos as he lays you down on the surface of whatever you two are making out on. "but you know, you don't have to think when daddy's around to do it for you," he says as his hand slides between your legs and rubs your clit through the sticky fabric guarding it.

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon's other hand rises to your face. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip before pushing inside your mouth. he feels his dick wake up as you suck on the digit like it's instinct, letting it pacify any of your prior protests. your soft tongue presses against the pad, and he can already hear a little moan in the back of your mouth. "that's right. that's what that little mouth is best at," he murmurs.

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon plays with your pussy till you're a squirmy, needy mess under him. only when your brain is already all mushy will he slide those panties down your legs, planting a kiss on your ankle before discarding them with the other clothes. he slides his thumb out from your mouth too, rubbing some saliva down over your chin. the cute little strands of drool make you all the more endearing to him.

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon watches your eyes when he pulls his cock out, that glassy-eyed stare you get when he's got you like this. he speaks to you like every word is a challenge to understand. "is that what you want, baby?" he croons, slapping his hard shaft down on your tummy, a preview of how it will fit. you give a weak little nod and he continues, "yeah? you want a treat, princess? want daddy nice and deep in that cute cunt?"

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon doesn't make you wait too long before he buries himself nice and deep in your tight pussy. he grips your hips, not that you ever try to run when you're like this. he listens for all your nonsensical little babbles, humming along with "mhm" and "is that right?" he angles his hips to make you squeal and lifts his hands to the back of your kneecaps to get you folded in half so he can rail you even deeper. "my dumb little girl. so good for me even when i've fucked your brain out," he coos while pounding into you.

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon thinks his favorite part of the whole thing is the big, dopey smile that takes over your features. the way you giggle out moans. your limbs bounce around with his movement as you've gone limp. he knows for certain that there's not a thing going on in that head right now. in this moment, he's your whole world. "you havin' fun, pretty girl?" he grunts, and the answer is always "yeah, daddy" followed by laughter.

when you wanna turn your brain off, leon ALWAYS gives you a creampie. he shoots his load as deep as he can, making sure you get that warm, gooey feeling in your belly. he rocks his hips a few more times to get a good look at the messy sight of your connection, the mixture of the two of you that coats the base of his cock. you always whine and kick your legs from the light overstimulation. he hushes you with a kiss on the forehead and promises to clean you up. he just wants to enjoy this a little more. having a fresh supply of cum fucked into you always keeps that pretty little head nice and empty for a few hours.

[irisintheafterglow]

I have this extremely detailed idea for a fic LOL where you’re childhood friends with the Miya twins and also play volleyball. You end up getting injured first year of high school and end up moving to karasuno and become manager. You have a falling out with atsumu cuz he’s angry at you for leaving but ur still friends with atsumu. You run into them again at nationals and call atsumu “Miya” while calling osamu by his name which pisses atsumu off. He ends up coming to ur hotel after the loss and there’s an angry confession. I love the way you write atsumu and would love to see this fully fleshed out!!!

hello my dearest anon i'm sorry it's taken literal MONTHS for me to get to this but i kept it in my drafts so i could come back to it and do it justice !!! the angry confession lowk turned into just a straight up hurt/comfort scene but i think it's more in atsumu fashion to just straight-up fold and forget being angry if the person he loves is sobbing hehe

the twins were people you didn't remember meeting, exactly; it was like a whack-a-mole game in an arcade where one pops up in front of you and before you can push that one away, another springs to life even closer to you. as one twin bounces over to invade your peaceful sandbox, the other twin would tackle him mercilessly and end up destroying your creation anyway. jealousy was an expression you observed in atsumu from an early age, especially when you were in school and seated with osamu as your desk partner. in spite of your efforts to avoid them and their ceaseless bickering, their presence eventually became endearing as you grew with them through elementary school and middle school.

it helped that you shared their love for volleyball, often referred to as "the terror triplets" whenever you played a co-ed game. in and off the court, you filled the gaps they didn't know they had, wordlessly hurling water over the side of the boat if they were sinking. atsumu was the chaos, osamu was the wrangler, and you were the one who used reason to pull your friends out of sticky situations. their parents liked to joke that you were the reincarnated third sibling that atsumu ate in the womb, and the three of you spread that rumor in 7th grade until you were taken to the principle's for unruly behavior. for better or for worse, you were the third facet of their invincible duo, adding a glow that helped the others shine even brighter.

so it felt like the walls were crashing down when you snapped your ankle during freshman year semifinals.

atsumu had heard you scream before, specifically when you were fed up with his shenanigans and saw no other option to make him listen. your voice would be at its peak volume for so long, it would go hoarse and it was like looking a dragon in the mouth. your rage gave him goosebumps, almost a thrill that ran down his spine; but, the moment you landed wrong after a miracle jump set made him nauseous.

osamu would've missed it if he'd tuned out for a second, since it was less than a scream than a cry. one moment, you were launching from the ground to send a spike to the other end of the net, and the next you were crumpled on the linoleum, your breathing concerningly ragged. he shoots atsumu a look and they wordlessly shove their way down the stairs and onto the court, past concerned onlookers and replacing your teammates under your arms as you're removed from the game. osamu has no time to protest--nor question--his twin's motives when atsumu takes matters into his own hands and sweeps your legs from under you, carrying you against his chest and murmuring quiet words of comfort into the top of your head.

your family moves to a prefecture in the countryside less than three months later, drained from the constant excitement of the city.

"he hasn't spoken a word to me since you guys got here," you mutter to osamu in a shaded corner of your backyard. "he tell you anything?"

"you know as well as i do that he doesn't tell me shit," osamu points out and you groan.

"tsumu keeping secrets from both of us," you lament. "just the development i needed before i never see you guys again."

"don't say that." your best friend's face was gravely serious, like the prospect of never seeing you again was ailing him too. "you'll visit, won't you?"

"i'll do my best. you know they don't like me going out anymore since my injury," you say, glancing at your parents bidding goodbye to their coworkers that attended the party. "i just wish he'd tell me what's wrong."

"i don't," osamu scoffs and you blink at him, dumbfounded. "honestly, i'm pretty sure i know what's wrong with him."

"but you won't ask because..."

"because he won't stop yapping about it if i open up the topic to conversation," he bluntly explains and you find yourself waiting for elaboration.

"what could possibly be on his mind that's affecting him so badly?" at that moment, before osamu could expose his brother's melodrama, you were called away by your parents and what atsumu was hiding, you never found out. two hours later, you were watching your best friends become smaller and smaller out of the car window.

---

when you first sign on to be a manager for karasuno's volleyball club, you truly don't think they'll make it to nationals. in fact, you hoped they wouldn't make it so you could continue to stay out late and could avoid thinking about the now-blonde twin who was suddenly ignoring your messages. your days were spent so long surrounded by the monster twins and their equally monstrous friends at inarizaki; it was bittersweetly refreshing to see such a rag-tag collection of rowdy individuals that, by some stroke of luck, could mesh together well enough to call themselves a team. so, when you're on the bus to nationals after defeating the strongest team in the prefecture, you're just as surprised and shocked as the rest of them to be in the city.

"didn't you spend your first year in tokyo?" kiyoko asks quietly, peering out the window over the rim of her glasses at the towering skyline.

"i did, but moved out here when my parents got tired of the city," you explain. "i haven't been back since."

"and you never visited?" her question isn't accusatory, just unsettlingly attentive as your fellow manager tended to be. your mind pushes forth the memory of your promise to osamu, and your simultaneous bridge burning with atsumu. whether you struck the match or he did, you couldn't tell.

"well, i-uh," you hesitate and she waits patiently for your reply, "i just never got around to it. strict parents and whatnot."

"i see. do you still have any friends here?" there's a clear image at the forefront of your psyche now, two shadows of twins you once knew standing between your new team and victory. "i know you played before your accident, so maybe we'll see some people you know." you can feel her words prodding you like a shepherd with a stick, herding you into sharing more about your past than you're comfortable admitting.

"yeah," you chuckle with blatant anxiety. the look on her face tells you she's reading straight through your white lies, but she doesn't push any further. "maybe we will."

as luck would have it, you run into the one team you did not want to interact with for as long as possible. after wanting to walk off the nerves of the following day's matches, you and a few of the more restless players decided to explore the area near the inn. you're barely two blocks away from the entrance doors when you spot two silhouettes burned into your memory from childhood, wrapped in bright red inarizaki track jackets.

"those guys look like a team we might play," you hear hinata mutter to kageyama, who puts no effort into hiding his distaste toward your former school. "i heard kita, the white-haired guy, is the captain, and he's like the conductor of an orchestra--"

"the twins he controls are brutal," daichi suddenly declares from next to you and you nearly jump out of your skin. the mob of red was slowly approaching your mob of black, going opposite directions on the same sidewalk and inevitably on track to collide. a true trainwreck, to say the least. "they move like a two-headed snake and are backed by the rest of the team, who have talent in their own right." step by step, your past and your present draw closer and you suddenly have the urge to hurl.

"i know that's your old team," kiyoko leans in and whispers so that only you can hear. you freeze. "if you wanna avoid them, i'll go back to the inn with you. sawamura has it from here." by the time you give her a grateful smile and open your mouth to reply, it's too late. the inarizaki and karasuno teams stop parallel to each other and you don't have time for hiding.

osamu spots you first.

"well if it isn't the pride of 'the terror triplets' returning to their hometown," he teases with an easy smile, stepping out from the group to greet you. you feel karasuno's gawking expressions follow you as you wrap your arms around osamu for the first time in a year, squeezing him like a sibling back from university.

"is it just me, or did your hair get greyer?" he shrugs one lazy shoulder and you turn your attention to your upperclassmen, who regard you with the same brotherly affection. "kita. ojiro. it's nice to see you again."

"nice to have you back," ojiro replies. "this is your new team?" you're abruptly made aware of your new players watching you in confusion and turn to them with a burning face. after explaining your history with inarizaki and reassuring them that you weren't going to abandon karasuno at nationals, they begrudgingly continue onward and let kiyoko and sugawara stay behind to keep an eye on you (and this alien new team you're associated with).

"he misses you. it's annoying," suna grumbles when you finally have the chance to catch up with him. you don't need to clarify that suna is referring to atsumu. in fact, you'd clocked him as soon as you spotted the team at the other end of the street; it was nearly impossible not to miss the sunshine-blonde hair sticking out from the middle. "but he's angry at you at the same time for abandoning us."

"i didn't abandon you guys," you protest. "my parents made me leave."

"and yet you never visted," suna counters blandly with his signature expressionless expression, but you can tell there was the slightest bit of hurt behind his words. "we miss hanging out with you. the miyas miss you. he misses you."

"you said that already," you frown. "if he misses me so bad, why's he made himself scarce all of a sudden?"

"he's hiding in the back, moping," he informs you. you peek around the towering shoulders of their tallest blockers and spot him, sinking into the stiff collar of his track jacket, eyes trained on whatever bullshit app on his phone. anything to avoid interacting with you. your heart pangs for a moment, but the pain is quickly forgotten when you remember how he'd ghosted you when you left.

you only speak to him once before you return to the karasuno players, when you're saying your goodbyes. he makes the mistake of reattaching himself to his twin's hip, a habit that he would never break.

"osamu," you nod at the gray-haired twin with a fond smile before your eye flick to the twin beside him. atsumu looks hauntingly good, coldly calculating and still with the dimple above the right side of his mouth. your smile falters, the light fizzling out from your eyes until nothing is left but a longing ache.

you say it without thinking, without knowing the ramifications that would arise in the following days. the single word spoken directly to atsumu's face enrages him more than when you left, when you tried to maintain contact, and when you ultimately stopped sending check-in messages. he misses you so badly, it feels like his chest is being torn open.

miya, you murmur curtly before turning on your heel and slipping through his fingers again.

---

"how did you know inarizaki was my old team?" you ask kiyoko when you return to the hotel the following evening, still riding the high of karasuno's lucky win over the foxes. you smiled with the crows and cheered them on as much as you could, but found yourself watching your former upperclassmen's disappointment sag in their bodies. you had to look away from kita as he finally broke down and ended up waiting for the rest of karasuno in the lobby, heartbroken witnessing your past (and what could have been your future) any further. "i mean, i appreciate you giving me an out when we first saw them. i really do. i'm just wondering how you knew."

"your water bottle," she answers simply. "i kept wondering where the fox sticker came from, and recognized it on their jackets when they walked closer." your mouth opens in a small ah of understanding, hugging a pillow close while your fellow manager finished getting ready for bed. "why'd you never visit? or tell karasuno about where you came from?"

"it was less painful to just move on," you admit, "or so i thought." burying your face in the pillow to hide your shame, you glance up and find kiyoko watching you sympathetically. "atsumu, the uh, blonde setter. i lost him when i moved." your voice cracks and your emotions threaten to spill over uncontrollably. by some miracle you maintain your composure but fall silent for a minute while you collect your thoughts. kiyoko waits again for you to continue, sitting across from you on the floor between your sleeping mats. "i stayed close with osamu because the only relationship i've ever had with him was platonic, but after my accident, and how 'tsumu took care of me..."

"you're in love with him," she finishes with a small sad smile. "but you've both chosen your sides and don't want to cross over. i saw it in your face every time we interacted with them." you nod weakly, pulling a blanket over your shoulders to further hide yourself. "what will you do if you never see him again?" you stare at her, heart sinking to your gut at the possibility. you peer at her through increasingly watery vision, tugging on a jacket and slipping on your shoes before you can even think.

you've barely stepped into the frigid winter air and swiped to osamu's contact on your phone when you collide with something firm and warm. you tilt your head up and feel like you're in a dream; somehow, you'd summoned him to karasuno's tiny inn with a few tears and lots of regret.

"what in the hell are you doing out so late--" oh. any lingering words of wrath, frustration, or heartache catch in atsumu's throat as you throw your arms around his neck, squeezing your eyes shut. he tenses for half a second, a deer-in-headlights brain malfunction, before snaking one arm around your waist and clutching the back of your head with his hand. you exhale a shaky sigh of relief when he returns your embrace which gives way to all the longing you'd bottled up for a year. when he makes to pull away, presumably to finally speak to you, you shake your head and hold him tighter.

"no," you plead, your soul bare for him to destroy. "don't make me leave." your last syllables devolve into a sob and you're choking for air against his chest. "please." he shushes you gently, carefully taking your face in one calloused hand and guiding you to look at him. his eyes are red and swollen from the day's loss, and tears run down in well-worn tracks across his cheeks. your thumb swipes them to the side as they fall and he doesn't try to pull away. one embrace and he's folding like a card table. maybe this was what he wanted all along.

"even after everything, i can't ever see you cry," he croaks. you can tell he's at war with himself, part of him wanting to cuss you out, scream at you for abandoning him, give you every angry piece of his mind that you avoided since your going-away party. yet, there's also the other half that compelled him to run to karasuno's accommodations in the first place just to see you; the part of him that ached for you and felt you closer than before, the part that said you needed him.

"i don't-i don't know what to do," you sniffle. "you hate me, and i--"

"i could never hate you," he promises adamantly. his anger forgotten, he just needs you to know that you're okay. "i hate that you left me...and that you called me my damn surname to my face...and that your new team won by sheer luck." you manage a watery laugh as he continues to commit every subtle movement of your face to memory (atsumu didn't know if he'd ever had the chance again). he offers a smile, something soft and endearing that he hopes you'll mirror. when you don't, he pulls you back into his chest and lets you ride out the rest of your breakdown. "i could never hate you. i love you too much."

"even when i'm ugly crying?" your voice is small and muffled, but it gets through to his freezing ears anyways. "and i manage a team that beat you?"

"i don't like when you do either, but i'll still love you anyways," he murmurs. "now let's get you out of the cold, i'm freezing my ass off and i was planning on confessing inside anyway."

---

even though you're the upperclassman manager after kiyoko graduates, ukai still lets you ditch a day of training camp to hop on a train to tokyo. the twins are waiting at the station when you step out, atsumu's inarizaki track jacket draped over his forearm. when he spots you as you round the corner, he meets you halfway and lifts you off your feet, spinning you around with a giddy grin on his face. before you can utter a word, he stops you and guides your arms into the sleeves of his jacket, forcing you to wear it before he listens to anything you say.

"hi, darling."

"hey, baby," he coos, taking your bag and slinging it over his swoon-worthy shoulder. "how was the train?"

"good. couldn't sit still, i was so excited," you reply, slipping your hand easily in his. "yo, miya," you say in greeting to the other twin. poor atsumu flinches slightly, still sore about you calling him by his surname during last year's nationals. his brother, however, is entirely unaffected.

"tsumu hasn't shut up about you for six days straight," osamu deadpans, but you catch the affection in his eyes when he reaches out to lightly punch your shoulder. "six days until they get here! five hours until they get here! two minutes until they get here!" you burst out laughing at osamu's impression of his brother, his voice an octave higher and mockingly sing-songy. "i'm glad you're here, but mostly i'm glad that now he can shut the hell up."

"i could never shut up about them," atsumu corrects, glancing at you with a lopsided grin. "i just love you too much."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[wonderl3ss]

the boy is mine

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol, reader is possessive n jealous, making out, modern au.

a/n: just smth short bc i was listening to the boy is mine by ariana grande n got inspired to write this lol. + i’m absolutely obsessed w leon atm.

you and leon were currently at some shitty, trashy club a mutual friend had dragged you both to. truth be told, you really only went to get drunk. clubs were never really your thing — too many sweaty bodies clashing about into you, too many people trying to hit on either you or your boyfriend.

which is actually what was happening right now. leon was at the bar ordering some more drinks for the both of you while you sat watching leon in a booth with your friend. you noticed some girl slowly making her way toward leon, a certain look in her eyes and a smirk on her face. you were no stranger to what was about to unfold.

maybe it was the alcohol in your system, but the way this girl was looking at him made a specific feeling bubble up in your stomach. a feeling of jealousy, a feeling of possessiveness. you decided to wait it out another minute, hoping that once leon mentions the fact he already has a girlfriend, she would back off.

except, that’s not the case. this girl is persistent. you notice how she starts eyeing him up and down, attempting to run her hands along his biceps, feeling him up.

even your friend could sense exactly how you were feeling, what you were thinking. she could see the glint and gloss in your eye; knew exactly what you were to do next.

you slowly rose from your seat, a fire in your stomach and eyes. you needed to show this girl just who leon belonged to — you. your heels clacked quietly on the sticky, drink covered club floor as you made your way toward the bar.

as if leon could sense your presence, (because there was no way he’d be able to hear you over the music blasting) his head turned and his eyes met yours. he, too, noticed the gloss in your eye and the way your eyelids were ever so slightly lowered. he knew exactly what that look meant.

the girl attempted to pay no mind to you as you leant against the bar on the left side of leon. you looked up at leon, making eye contact with him, a slight smirk on your face.

your eyes flitted toward the girls for a split second before returning them back to your boyfriends. you wasted no time in wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him down to feverishly smash your lips together.

you could sense the girls energy changing at the sight of your arms around leon’s neck and his hands grabbing your hips. leon began to rub circles into your hips with his thumbs as you pushed your tongue past his lips, intertwining yours with his own.

you opened your eyes a slither to glare at the girl, hoping she had finally gotten the message. to which, thankfully, she had. she quickly looked away from you, her fingernails suddenly more interesting than anything else.

you let out an almost pornographic moan at the tight grip leon had on your hips, gaining the attention of the girl for one last time. you took this as an opportunity to pull away, revelling in the way her face dropped at the string of saliva that connected you and your boyfriend.

the two of you had completely forgotten about the drinks you were originally waiting on, something else now filling your mind. as leon grabbed you by the hand to pull you out of the club, you gave the girl one last look over your shoulder, a cocky smirk on your face as you wiggled your fingers to wave goodbye to her — rubbing it in her face that leon was yours, and only yours.

[eroselless]

TOA’ LA NOCHE 

Summary: You meet Carlos at a nightclub and spend toda la noche with him [2.1k]

[carlos sainz x reader ]

MASTERLIST

Warnings: 18+ for explicit language and smut, Spanish (might be a mix between Spain Spanish and Colombian Spanish, which is what I speak lol)

 If there's any I missed let me know!

note: This was inspired by this TikTok that I’ve been obsessed with recently. I’ve been absolutely obsessed with this man. Also, I’m not very versed in writing smut and I’ve only written it a few times so I apologize in advance if it sounds a little confusing lmao. 

here’s the playlist that I listened to while writing

Your skin is starting to feel sticky as find yourself surrounded by mountains of people, all seemingly moving in unison with you. Sweat seems to be beading at the back of your neck and on your hairline. The sultry voices of Feid and Rauw Alejandro echo in your ears, the bass reverberating in your chest. The lights are bright, creating a halo around you. Your hips sway to the beat as you drunkenly and loosely gyrate them against one of your girlfriends. You're a giggling mess as she wraps her arms around and twirls. You let yourself go and give in to the music. The beat is almost intoxicating as you throw your head back and let out a breath.

You feel your friend tug on a strand of your hair before pointing out a group of guys standing just a few feet from you. They're standing in a half circle, dancing with each other, singing along and pumping their fists into the air. A brown-haired one whispers into another’s ear, almost exactly mirroring the interaction you just had with your friend. Your eyes wander over to the dark-haired man next to him and you feel your breath hitch in your throat at your eyes meet. He stands only slightly taller than the other man. He’s wearing a linen shirt, the buttons only done up halfway, exposing his hard chest. His hair is slightly wet, a sign that he combed his fingers through it far too many times. You feel your cheeks warm up, though you weren't sure they could get any hotter under the light, and you let out a shy smirk. 

There are people separating your two groups but between bodies, Carlos can clearly see as you continue moving against your friend, meeting your eyes in fleeting glances. Your friend lets go of you for a second, but you continue moving on your own, hands going up over your head and eyes closed. He weaves through the crowd and towards you, hands finding home on your hips. You tense up slightly before realizing it's him and relaxing in his arms. You feel his hands wander over your hips, threading his fingers in your belt loops. The song ends and another begins, the tempo slowing. You half expect him to let go and move back to his friends but he stays, moving with you. His head falls to your shoulder and you can feel a smile on his lips as he presses them to your skin. His fingers tighten their hold on you, lips now moving higher on the column of your neck. You let out a squeal as he nips lightly at your ear. He presses his hips hard against your bum, letting out a soft hmm as you find yourself burrowing ever more into his chest. He brings his lips to your ear and just over the music you hear him ask:

“quieres salir de aquí y encontrar un lugar un poco más privado?” (do you wanna get out of here and find a place that’s a little more private?)

You look up at him, nodding as his grip leaves you briefly. You see him yell out to his friends and you signal to yours where you're going and you make your way through the crowd and out the doors of the club. Your hands are intertwined as you make your way to his hotel across the street. Between wet kisses and wandering hands, you manage to catch his name as he mutters it out.  You likewise tell him yours as he’s pulling you through the door and into his room.

He doesn’t give you much time to think, pressing you to the door, lips finding their way back to yours. He licks into your mouth as your hands wander over each other’s skin. The pace is fast and needy as you reach into the front of his pants, undoing his belt and giving his hardening length a squeeze. He moans in your mouth, the sound sending a chill down your back and between your legs. His hands pull your shirt over your head, tossing it behind you. 

He pushes off the door, maneuvering you to the bed, sending you crashing onto the sheets. His arms cage you to the bed as his lips wander over your exposed skin. His fingers pull the lace cups of your bra down, pulling the fabric tight under your breast. His lips latch onto your pebbled nipple, the hand not supporting him above you, going to squeeze at the other. You bite your lip, stifling a moan as it tries to make its way passed your lips. 

“dejame escucharte, gatito.” (let me hear you, kitten) he says as his lips travel even further down your body. He licks down the valley between your breasts, blowing on the skin, goosebumps appearing over the area. You let out a shaky breath as he trails his fingers over your navel and down to your ever-moistening panties. He looks up at you with his honey-coloured eyes as if asking your permission to pull your panties off of you. As soon as you give him the green light, he’s prying them from you, hands dragging down your legs as he does so. 

“ay, mor, no seas asi,” (ay, love, don’t be like that) you say as he bites gently into the fat of your thighs, fingers gripping tightly, making sure you stayed wide open for him. His smile is teasing, eyes hooded with desire as he continues to move around the area where you need him most. His tongue is gentle and soft as it finally slides over your slit, his thick bottom lip following quickly behind. He takes his time tasting you, tongue prodding at your hole. He goes slowly, sensually as he eats like a man starved. He pulls away completely, lips and nose coated in your slick. You whine at the loss of contact. He chuckles, pressing more gently kisses to the inner part of your thigh.

“carlos…” 

“dime.” (tell me.) he says, resting his cheek on your thigh, a smirk on his lips. You let out a whine.

“quiero más,” (i want more.) you beg, voice almost broken and dripping with want. He raises an eyebrow, tongue going over his teeth.

“como qué?” (like what?) he asks, an innocent look painted over his face. You let out a huff and he shakes his head gently.

“tranquilla, amor. yo te dare todo lo que tu quieras.” (it’s ok, love. i’ll give you everything you want.)

His pointer and middle fingers trace over your lips, pulling them apart before pushing them into the pink flesh of your cunt. The air gets caught in your throat as his lips return to your clit, pulling it between his lips. Your hand goes to his silky hair, pulling on it. He let out a soft hum, a dull vibration caressing your sensitive skin. He curls his fingers, almost as if he were reaching for a button deep within you. You feel yourself shatter, your eyes squeezed shut as an orgasm crashes over you. Your chest is heaving as Carlos works you through it, gently scissoring his fingers out of your aching core. 

He pulls away, standing at his full height as he seems to catch his breath as well. His hair is sticking up and messy from your hands and there is a pink hue scattered over his cheeks. He’s smirking as he looks down at you, admiring his dishevelled work of art. He peels off his shirt, dropping it at his feet. You push yourself up, hands going to his unbuckled belt and zipper. 

“no es nada justo que todavía tienes esto puesto,” (it’s not fair at all that you’re still wearing all of this) you say, hands going over his tight abdomen. You let your fingers trace over his v-line, moving to right beneath his navel. You press your lips there, letting your tongue wet his skin. Carlos wraps his hand around your jaw, stopping you from going any further.

“por lo mucho que me gusta verte así, ahorita solo quiero esta dentro de ti.” (as much as i love seeing you like this, right now i just want to be inside you) You let out a quiet ok and lean back on your elbows and watch as he fully undressed his lower half. Your gaze wanders down, widening just slightly as you take all of him in. You can’t help but feel your core wetten at the sight. There’s a dark look in his eyes as he crawls over to you.

For a second it’s as if the world slows down. The sounds of traffic outside fade away and it’s just the two of you, enveloped in one another. His eyes meet yours as he holds himself above you. You can see the freckles littered over his nose and the faint mole on his cheek. You drag a finger over his bottom lip, tugging it down slightly. You lick into each other’s mouths, both letting out a long breath. He lines himself up with your sopping cunt and lets out a whine as he fills you to the hilt.

The stretch is delicious, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. Your legs are loosely wrapped around his waist. You're a moaning mess underneath Carlos as he starts to gently push in and out of you. Your hands wander over the smooth skin of his shoulders, fingernails digging crescent moon into his flesh. His nose nudges yours as you breathe in each other’s pants. His eyes are glazed over with lust as he loses himself in you. Your scent, the tremble in your voice, the taste of your skin. He falls to his elbows, using one hand to push your left knee up to your chest. It allows him to fuck deeper into you and you feel him bang into your g-spot.  You let out a gasp and he takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth, swallowing your noise.

His breathing is hard, grunting with every thrust, chest heaving with every breath he takes. The sounds of skin colliding and your moans are the only thing you can hear. His whimpers sound like music to your ears as he tucks his face into your neck. You move one of your hands and grip his asscheek, pushing it as close as you could to yourself. 

“joder, me podria perder en esta cosita aqui.” (fuck, I could get lost in this little thing here) he groans out. He pulls out quickly and instructs you to turn around. You get on your hands and knees as he grips your hips from behind. He swiftly pushes into you again, knocking you down to your elbows, ass now high in the air. You let out a cry as his hand rubs over your bundle of nerves. You feel as if you are teetering on the edge of a chasm, only held up by a string that’s ready to break. His growls only grow louder as he continues to pound into you and his pace becomes sloppy.  

“vamos, nena,” (come on baby,) he says into the soft skin of your back. “yo sé que puedes.” (i know you can do it) You let out a cry, letting the string snap and you fall. You feel Carlos pull your arms out and over your head, forcing your face into the soft duvet. He interlaces his finger with yours and holding on tightly he spills into you. After a few seconds, he lets his body weight lay over you, unable to hold himself up any longer. You both hiss as he pulls himself out, revelling in his cum dripping down your thighs. He wraps his hand around you turning you over slowly. He lays behind you as your breaths regain their normal rhythm.

He presses his lips and nose to your back, inhaling the smell of sex and scent on your skin. You let out a giggle as the breeze coming from his lips tickles over your skin. You fiddle with his fingers and slowly turn over to look at him. His skin glistens with sweat but it makes him look more like an oiled-up Greek god as opposed to a man coming down from the highs of sex. 

“fuck, eres extraordinaria, mi amor.” (you are extraordinary, my love)

a/n: oh geez I definitely had too much fun writing this. some of the translations aren’t 100% exact, it just sounds similar and better to me like that lol. let me know what y'all think! comments and reblogs are always welcomed <3

[noyaspeach]

first light

Summary: Could this be how every day begins?

After a long and restless night with no sleep, you go looking for something to while away the hours. As it turns out, Astarion is just as much of an insomniac as you are, and the two of you spend the early morning together.

Pairing: Astarion x Gender Neutral! Reader

Word Count: 4,334

Tags: Fluff and Light Angst, Pining, Feelings Realization (Kinda?), Second Person POV, Soft Astarion, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Insomnia, Watching the Sunrise

Author's Note:

not me returning to fic-writing over 3 years later with an astarion fic of all things. i can't even guarantee i'll write another one considering i'm about to start college again, but i would sure like to!

i was heavily inspired to write this because of the release of hozier's album. it perfectly aligned with me becoming obsessed with baldur's gate 3, and astarion is just so hozier-coded, how could i not? as the title suggests, i was inspired by the song "first light" which is the last song on the album, based on dante's ascent out of hell and his first taste of light and freedom. i imagine it's how astarion must have felt when he was no longer forced to do cazador's bidding and when he could finally experience sunlight again.

obligatory disclaimers: i haven't actually played the game yet, so this fic is informed by clips i've seen online, gif sets, the baldur's gate wiki, and other fics. if any details in this aren't chronologically sound or if anything seems a little non-compliant with the canon of the game... now you know why lol.

still, i hope you enjoy it! this is also posted to ao3! read here!

///

You stare up at the ceiling of your tent, frustration rolling in your chest as you struggle to rest. Your eyes are beginning to sting with the lack of sleep, but simply closing them does nothing to help. You’ve gone through all of your belongings twice already, looking for something to ease you into slumber, but no amount of reading or alcohol seems to do the trick. It certainly doesn’t help that the weather has been oppressively humid all night, leaving you coated in a thin, sticky layer of sweat that doesn’t seem to leave you no matter how many layers you shed.

You can’t bear to lay around in the thick air of your tent, so you decide to sit out by the extinguished campfire in the hopes that it will do more to relax you.

You quietly open your tent flap and emerge into the mild morning air. It’s much cooler outside, and a light breeze tickles your arm, already doing wonders to dry your sweat. It’s still too early for daylight, so the camp is only dimly illuminated by the moonlight. With the lack of light, you listen out for the sounds of the forest around you: the chirps of insects beneath you, hooting owls in the distance, and a trickling stream not too far away. Focusing on these scarce sounds, you already feel much calmer.

After a moment of peace, you hear a rustle to your right. You whip your head toward the sound, hands ready at your weapon, when you see a familiar face emerge from the trees. You let your hands drop to your side again. It’s just Astarion. He appears to be returning to his tent, noticeably empty-handed. You wonder what he’s up to this early in the morning, and he seems to be wondering the same thing, eyeing you with an inquisitive raise of the eyebrow.

“Restless sleeper, are we?” He remarks.

“Something like that,” you reply. “Just needed some fresh air.”

You notice that Astarion is still in his sleepwear, the sleeves of his white undershirt pushed up above his elbows. “And what are you doing out?”

“Oh, you know. Searching for a midnight snack, so to speak.” He gestures to the woods behind him. “Unfortunately, there isn’t a very fine selection tonight.”

You grimace at the thought of Astarion catching an innocent woodland creature between his teeth. It’s a less-than-flattering image, one that’s informed by the memory of the boar he drained a while back, and one that you’re eager to dismiss.

“Is that all you’ve been up to?” You ask.

“Why? Were you getting lonely without me?” He teases. You can only roll your eyes in response. When he doesn’t receive a retort, Astarion sighs and continues. “Right, if you want an honest answer, I was going for a stroll to pass the time.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Wandering about on your own while everyone’s asleep isn’t a very good idea. If something happens out there, none of us will be able to save you”

“Trust me, darling, I can hold my own just fine. But I appreciate you worrying about my safety. It’s almost touching.” He smirks. “I would appreciate it even more if you would refrain from telling the others about my… routine here. I don’t exactly want the company.”

“Routine? How long have you been taking these walks?”

“Since the day I joined you all, I would say.” Astarion’s eyes move to the entrance of his own tent. “I haven’t been able to get much sleep myself, and I figure there isn’t much use laying on my bedroll if I’m not resting or satisfying… other needs. So, I walk. And occasionally feed.”

You search Astarion’s face for any sign of deception, but he’s being surprisingly truthful, if a little bashful. You resonate with his sleeplessness, being something of an insomniac yourself. Despite the immense toll your travels have taken on your body, you can’t seem to rest very easily at all, especially when you need it the most. Whether it’s the vivid memories of past battles replaying in your dreams, the smothering climate of whatever campsite you’ve picked out that night, or the relentless wriggling of the tadpole in your head, there’s always something keeping you up.

“I’m surprised I haven’t caught you earlier, then,” you say. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you,” says Astarion. He smiles, and it seems he means it too. “Well, seeing as neither one of us will be getting to bed anytime soon, would you care to join me?”

You cross your arms. “I thought you would have preferred to be alone.”

“Misery loves company and all. I think I can make an exception for a fellow night owl,” he drawls.

You agree to walk with him then and quietly head in the opposite direction of both tents. You’re sure to bring your weapon with you in the off chance that something—or someone—attacks the two of you. A very small part of you still garners some suspicion for Astarion himself, especially considering that night in which he tried to feed from you while you slept. Perhaps that’s another factor in your insomnia; although you let Astarion drink his fill that night, you can’t be entirely sure he won’t try it again. That he won’t succeed in creeping up on you and draining you completely.

You shiver at the thought, but pass it off as a cold chill from the wind. As the two of you slowly move from the campsite, your surroundings become even quieter. The chirping insects from before are silent now, and the nearby stream is barely a whisper. You can hardly hear either of your footsteps. It’s at once peaceful and unsettling.

After a few short minutes, you’re the first to break the silence. “What do you usually do when you’re out here?”

Astarion thinks for a moment, and hums. “Hmm. Aside from hunting, I suppose I just sit with my thoughts. There isn’t much else to do, is there?”

You nod, but somehow you don’t think being left with one’s own thoughts is particularly relaxing for anyone in your party. You can’t imagine it’s any good for Astarion, especially.

“And what do you think about?”

“So much,” he says. “Plans, mostly. Where our next destination is, where I’ll find my next meal, what I’ll do when we reach Baldur’s Gate, how to get rid of this wretched parasite…”

“Do you ever think about your past?”

Astarion’s gaze is a bit distant until you ask that. He slows his pace and turns to you, looking unusually serious. “I prefer not to.”

He leaves it at that, so you decide not to push further. You only know a little about Astarion’s life before the tadpole entered his mind. You know he’s the spawn of an even more powerful vampire, a master to whom he was a slave for nearly 200 years, and you know he’s lived in the shadows up until now. It isn’t lost on you that this entire adventure is his first taste of freedom in centuries. You understand why he would rather focus on the future. Still, your nagging curiosity makes you desperate for more information about him.

“What about you, my dear?” He returns to his more amused attitude. “What do you do in that tent of yours to pass the time until the morning comes? Don’t tell me if it’s anything naughty… Actually, do.”

You shake your head and suppress a smile as he actually almost earns a laugh from you. “Nothing like that. I normally just try to distract myself until I can hopefully fall back asleep. Read something, sort my wares, hum a tune. Anything to relax.”

“I take it that hasn’t been working for you?”

“No. Not one bit. I’m actually kind of worried it might start affecting my performance from now on. Unlike some of the elves in this team, I actually need quite a lot of rest.”

“A true shame,” he tuts. “Although it is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, I don’t need to sleep for very long. On the other, I can’t sleep for very long. Sometimes I do wish I could simply let the whole day pass while I doze off. That would be much easier than just waiting it out.”

You hadn’t considered this. While the rest of your traveling companions are able to sleep through the night, Astarion has no choice but to wait for everyone to wake up around sunrise. All he can do is hope to get a few hours of rest before sitting through the unnerving silence of the night, the only unique sounds being the faint snores and mumbles that float from the other tents. You and he are alike in this struggle, but you at least are lucky enough to have a few nights when your exhaustion is bad enough to force you to bed.

“Well, taking a stroll like this is a good idea,” you finally say. “Thank you for inviting me along.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of Astarion’s lips. “Thank you for joining me. I will admit, it’s easier to pass the time with a… friend… by my side.”

Your heart swells at that word: “friend.” It’s a welcome upgrade from whatever you two might have been considered before.

A few minutes pass with the both of you chatting politely. As you walk, you make note of your surroundings to ensure that you don’t stray too far from camp or encounter any traps. This occupies your mind for a while, but Astarion seems to be running out of topics to discuss. Not wanting him to abandon your little trip just yet, you try to think of something to entertain him. Looking out at the forest and the sky in front of you, you notice that the moon has begun its descent into the trees, meaning morning is almost upon you two. This gives you an idea.

You stop and pivot to face Astarion. He stops too, surprised at your sudden pause.

“What is it?” He asks.

"Would you like to watch the sunrise with me?”

He’s taken aback only momentarily before he adopts his familiar flirtatious demeanor. “Trying to turn this into a romantic tryst, are you? If you want something more, you’ll have to be a little more direct than that.”

You shake your head. “No, I don’t mean anything by it. I want to know if you’ll sit and watch the sun come up with me. That’s all. It should be rising soon enough. It’s almost morning.”

He seems puzzled, his brows tightening and eyes scanning your face for any indication that you may be holding something back. When he doesn’t find anything, he settles back into an easy expression. “I seem to have misjudged. My apologies… Yes, I wouldn’t mind sitting with you.”

“Great.” You smile and begin to walk again. “I heard some water earlier, so I think there may be a stream near here. Maybe it’ll make for a nice spot.”

Astarion follows as you lead him closer to the sound of running water, and the two of you shortly come upon the stream. It’s a small, shallow brook that separates the woods from which you emerge and another expanse of trees on the other side. Right along the edge of the water is a line of smooth rocks big enough to sit on. It’s the perfect place to set up, you think.

The two of you find purchase on the edge of the rocks, feet just barely dangling off the side, hovering above the calmly flowing water. The rocks aren’t terribly big, so the two of you sit side-by-side, your knees close enough to touch. Across the brook, the trees begin to thin out, leaving a clear view of the horizon. You estimate that the sun will start its ascent in the next few minutes, but for now, the scene in front of you remains thinly bathed in moonlight.

In the quiet of the dawn, the moon casts its silvery glow on the world beneath it. Every blade of grass, every dewy flower, every mossy stone radiates with a hazy blue hue. The stream beneath you reflects this onto both of your faces, and you give a sideways glance to your companion next to you. You watch as the light dances across his cheeks, admiring how it shines in his curls, how it glistens in his deep red eyes, and how it collects in the space just above his lips. You inhale and the earthy scent of the forest mixes with the smell of Astarion’s perfume in your nose. As you do so, you realize now just how close in proximity you are to him. You’re close enough to trace his silhouette from the slope of his nose to his slender neck with your fingers if you so choose. You glimpse at the puncture marks just below his jaw and remember once more the night you let him drink from you. You remember the moment you awoke in terror before you realized who was crouched above you. You remember the uncertainty you felt as you gave him permission to continue, not sure whether it was a wise decision or not. You remember the sharp sting of his teeth entering your skin and the almost exhilarating dizziness that followed as he coaxed your blood out with his tongue. The rest of that moment is a blur to you, but you can still distinctly recall how he cradled your head with one hand, the other gently ghosting down your spine. For almost a full day after that night, the smell of bergamot and rosemary lingered on your neck.

“You do know staring is rude, don’t you, darling?” Astarion says. “Not that I particularly mind.” He leans back on his arms and turns to face you. “Not when it’s you.”

Your cheeks flush in spite of the cool temperature. You wonder when it was you became so vulnerable to Astarion’s flirting. Even though you have, you try not to entertain it. After all, you suspect his charming behavior is at least partly a ruse.

“Sorry,” you mutter and look back at the horizon. “It’s very pretty out. It’ll be even prettier in just a few more minutes, too. We’re in the perfect spot to watch the sun come up.”

“Is that so?” Astarion tilts his head as he continues to behold you. “You know, I’ve never watched the sunrise like this.”

You twist to look at him again, utterly shocked. “Seriously? Not once?”

He shakes his head.

“How come?”

He sighs. “I’m sure I must have before… everything. But I can’t seem to remember anything from back then. I lost most of my memories when I was brought back, save for a few of the important details. I suppose sunrises weren’t important enough to stick.” He frowns and stares out at a canopy of trees in the distance. “Then, as you know, it would have been incredibly stupid for me to be out in the light with this condition of mine. So, I never tried. I didn’t have very many opportunities to do so, in any case.”

Your brow furrows, but you don’t say anything. Instead, you let Astarion continue at his own pace.

“...I spent decades in my master’s lair, a- a dungeon, really. I was trapped in the darkness. The only time I was allowed out was when he needed fresh, new bodies, and even then it was always under the cover of night. For the longest time, that was all that I knew. In a way, it’s what I’m still used to…”

Suddenly his sleeplessness makes all the more sense to you.

“I know I’m free from that now, what with the tadpole and all, but…” He trails off. You understand.

After several beats of silence, you clear your throat.

“Once, when I was a child, I went playing in the woods with some of the other children in the village. There were maybe six of us in total? I don’t exactly remember. But we marched all the way from the market to the forest pretending we were a band of heroes. I was at the back of the line, right behind this boy that I really liked. I put myself there on purpose so that I could smile and blush as much as I wanted without him seeing me.”

“How cute,” Astarion comments with a quirked eyebrow.

“Yeah. I mean, I thought I was being clever, but it was pretty silly, wasn’t it? Anyways, when we entered the woods, we decided to split off into teams to see who could find the most ‘treasure.’ We just plucked up sticks, flowers, beetles, pinecones, that kind of stuff. I was paired with the boy I liked, and I was so giddy about it. I wanted to show him just how cool I was, so I climbed up every tree and jumped off every rock. Just hearing him laugh and clap for me was enough for me to keep going. So, I did. Before we knew it, we realized we had strayed too far from the rest of the group. We tried to call out to them but heard nothing in return. We were lost.”

You pause your story to get a brief look at Astarion. You half-expect him to be bored by this point, but you’re surprised to see that he’s giving you his full attention. He waves his hand, signaling for you to continue.

“We started playing late into the evening, so by the time we realized that we had no clue where we were, the sun had already begun to set. I remember cursing myself for wishing I could have some alone time with this boy because that wasn’t at all what I had had in mind. But, alas, that was the situation I was stuck in. When it reached midnight and we still hadn’t made our way back to the village, I started panicking. You should know that I used to be deathly afraid of the forest at night. I was terrified of what kind of creatures could be hiding, waiting to snatch me up and eat me alive.”

“Hmm, like vampires?” Astarion teases.

You smirk. “Precisely. You’ll remember, though, that I was stuck with the boy I liked. So, there was no way I could show that I was scared. I couldn’t display any sign of weakness or else he might not think I was as cool as I let off. Knowing this, I put on a brave face and silently begged the gods for some protection before I assembled a makeshift camp for the two of us. It was, admittedly, very shitty, but it did its job of giving us some shelter for the night. I told him he could sleep and that I would keep watch, and so I did. I didn’t sleep very much back then, either, now that I think about it. I guess not a lot has changed about me… But I digress. I stayed up the whole night, sitting outside our little fort, listening to him snore and talk in his sleep. I don’t think I could have left his side if I wanted to, considering how petrified I was. But I powered through the fear, for his sake. I was so young, but I cared about this boy so much that I felt I owed it to him to make sure he was safe.”

“You were quite the hero, even back then,” Astarion says gently. “Is this little story your way of telling me to be more selfless?”

“Not at all. I’m getting to the point, I promise. I sat there for hours as I waited for it to become day again. Eventually, I was able to focus on the more beautiful parts of the night: the moon, the stars, the lightning bugs, the sweet whisper of the wind through the leaves. The more I searched for the good in my situation, the less scared I became, until I was no longer scared at all. By the time dawn rolled around, I was at peace, actually. I was so proud of myself for making it through the night, I immediately woke the boy up to share the moment with him. Then, we sat together, kind of like this,” You gesture to your and Astarion’s seating position, “and just watched the sunrise in perfect silence. I had never watched the sunrise before. It was so nice, getting to quietly enjoy such a wonderful view with someone I loved.”

As you finish your story, you face Astarion once more. His gaze is soft as he listens to you speak, and the tender curl of his lips betrays a sincere gratitude for having shared this with him.

“Did anything ever happen between you and that boy?” He asks.

“Sadly, no. He eventually fell for some other girl in town. Last I heard, they had three kids together.”

“Hmm.” Astarion angles his chin away from you. “Well, that’s his loss.”

You look away, too, and smile to yourself.

Suddenly, the sky begins to transform before your eyes. The first gleams of sunlight begin to caress the horizon as the moon takes its final bow behind you. The forest, still coated with all the glimmering remnants of morning dew, stirs from its slumber under the streams of the emerging sun. As the sun slowly rises, its warm embrace spreads like honey between the trees, flooding the forest floor with rays of pink and amber. Shafts of light pierce through the lush foliage, creating scintillating patterns on the surface of the water that seem to dance at the promise of a new day. Finally, when the sun peers at you from above the treetops, it’s as if the sky erupts. A burst of brilliance envelopes the world below it in its welcoming embrace, casting everything in a blazing golden light.

You begin to say something to Astarion but stop when you see his face. He looks positively radiant. His face glows in the daylight, appearing even more magnificent than he did in the moon’s silver beams. His face and his hair are colored by the sun, making him look more alive than he ever has before. Every detail from the strands in his eyebrows to the smallest of moles is illuminated before you. You watch as his eyes glisten before softly fluttering closed. He breathes deeply, his chest slowly rising and falling, and he basks in the sunlight. He relaxes completely, letting the sun’s rays melt away any and all tension he may have been holding on to.

You want nothing more than to cup his face in your hands, then, and feel the newly imbued warmth of his skin as you press your lips to his. Instead, however, you carefully place your hand on top of his. His eyes blink open and he turns to look at you once more. You hesitate for a moment, ready to move away, but he doesn’t reject you. His eyes crinkle with appreciation and he laces your fingers together before gently stroking his thumb against the side of your hand. His skin is still a bit cold, but thanks to you, it quickly warms up.

The two of you sit there in tranquility, taking in all of the sights, sounds, and feelings of the early morning. Time seems to slow, then, as if the universe itself also wishes to savor this serene moment for just a little while longer.

Soon, you hear the distant sound of casual conversation as the others awaken for yet another day of arduous traveling. You sigh, knowing that the two of you will have to return to camp shortly and leave all of this behind. You don’t want to let go just yet.

“We should probably get back,” Astarion says first. “I wouldn’t want the others to think that I killed you and scurried off or something like that.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be very good for morale,” you joke. After a moment, you reluctantly untwine your fingers and push yourself up off the rocks. You extend a hand to Astarion to help him up, which he graciously accepts.

Neither of you moves at first until Astarion takes a step toward you. Standing so close to you, you wonder if he’s about to kiss you when he gingerly takes hold of your hands. He gives you that sincere smile again.

“Thank you again for this. It was… nice.” You almost can’t believe how vulnerable he seems right now, eyes staring into yours with no hint of false pretenses. “I’d like to do this again with you, if you’ll join me.”

“I would love to.”

“Wonderful,” he says. He lets go of you. “Shall we then?”

The two of you take your time walking back to the campsite, talking idly about what the next few days have in store. When you arrive, Karlach is the first to notice you.

“There you two are! We were beginning to worry.” She looks between you both and crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes mischievously. “Anything we should know about your disappearance?”

You chuckle. “Nothing that would excite you, Karlach.”

You walk past her and approach your tent. The rest of your team is already getting to work cleaning their weapons, armor, and other equipment, preparing to hunt, or strategizing together. Before you duck inside to retrieve your clothes for washing, you turn back and lock eyes with Astarion. He’s entered a conversation between Shadowheart and Gale, but he isn’t all that engaged. He shoots you a knowing look and another small smile which you return in kind.

As you wash your clothes in the river just south of the camp, you think fondly of the promise you’ve now made with Astarion and the many sunrises to come. Suddenly, insomnia doesn’t seem so bad.

[evergreen-endo]

you are literally crazy if you thought i wasn't gonna write this for my pookiepies too. + some extras.

18+ minors dni. perverted jack off/cum analysis ft. takiishi chika, endo yamato, kanon banjo, hiragi toma. pt. 1 here.

takiishi has such a pretty cock. long and tanned and veiny. a hard dick is such an inconvenience to him though. doesn’t really jack off with the intention of self pleasure, just taking care of business. it does always make him feel much better though. he just doesn’t do it that frequently! when he does, he’s pretty quick because he knows what he likes and how to cum as fast as possible. another one that prefers to stand so he can cum into something; like a sink, the shower, whatever. gets really breathy when he’s close. soft grunts and groans as he’s cumming. literally like…squeezes the cum out of the tip of his cock. can i say something? i’m going to say something. and listen. i love this man, i really do. but his cum is foul. all he eats is junk. i really do not think he ever drinks water. it is so, so thick. thickest of all the windbreaker men. and i’m not going to lie to you, it’s the kind that is like super gloopy, and sticky, and tinged more of a creamy yellowish color. it’s a bitch to clean up. and he cums a lot, and has so much stamina. 

endo is so slutty with it. leaks so much precum. noisy as all hell, whines and whimpers and moans and gasps. throws his head back a lot, rolls his eyes back into his skull, thrashes around and bucks his hips. edges himself sometimes but he’s just a bit too impatient to do it properly. if he wants to cum, he wants to cum now. the day he discovered his nipples were sensitive he nearly exploded on the spot. gathers up some precum on his fingers so he can tweak and pinch at them while he works himself with his other hand. talks dirty like he’s not alone. so good, so so so good. just like that, yeahyeahyeah. fuck you’re gonna make me cum. gonna make a mess. and he does. strokes so much faster when he’s about to cum because he gets desperate so even if he were to shoot beautiful perfect ropes clean onto his abs, it ends up flying all over the place from the force of jerking his dick around. so out of breath and panting and gulping when he finishes because his mouth is so dry from having it hung open while he plays with himself. also! gets morning wood real real bad. humps his pillows, humps the bed, muffles his moans biting into the sheets, really likes being able to move his hips and thrust into something. again, he makes a huge mess. sweat everywhere he lays from exertion, spit soaked sheets and drool, and of course, cum all over his abdomen and the pillowcases. 

kanon banjo is a SLUT. WHORE. and a SKANK. (affectionate). ahem. let me elaborate. he is so depraved. bites his lip till he damn near starts bleeding, the type to get really delirious and giggle and smile with pleasure. realllyyyy likes cock rings. he gets so sensitive and whiny and whimpery, twitches like crazy. edges himself till his tip is bright red. pinches the fuck out of his nipples like can someone get him some clamps. does a lot of breath play! holds his breath for as long as he can, hangs his head off the edge of his bed…genuinely might be stupid enough to try autoerotic asphyxiation but i’m not gonna get into it LOL. anyway. cums hard every time. his cock is so restricted the cum spurts out in forks, like three separate streams shooting out of his tip….n then it sets off his cum kink and he’s gotta scoop it all up and use it as lube for a second round.

hiragi the man that you are. jacking off is the stress release/medicine he can only get in private! gets home from something stressful and beelines to the bathroom to unzip his pants and whip it out. i mean, he strains against those leather pants all day, giving it some fresh air feels good in and of itself. not taking his pants off fully puts a little pressure on his balls and he likes that. sighs so heavy when he wraps his hand around it. def the type to end up fucking into his hand, hips moving more than his arm is. so much deep sighing. his tummy clenches up really pretty when he’s close, and when he finally cums, he lets out lots of sounds that seem really frustrated; breathy, choked groans and strained grunts. i think his cum is a really good consistency, not too thick or thin, but the actual streams seem thin because it shoots so far! he kinda likes the sound it makes when it drips onto the floor. will purposefully move a towel or rug out of the way so he can hear it go plap onto the tiles.

[writeslikeanaria]

a storm is brewing

sebastian sallow × reader (technically ominis gaunt x reader)

summary: you and your boyfriend have your private time interrupted by your mutual friend's private time (more writing practice lol)

word count: 1.5k+

warnings: oral (m receiving), voyeurism, p in v, self pleasure, absolute filth, SMUT

It wasn’t unusual of you to be tangled up in the sheets of your boyfriend, your lover, after a long day of grueling school work. It also wasn’t unusual for your limbs to be tangled up as well, with a mixture of arms and legs blurred together in a haze of lust and want.

You were connected by the lips, you and Sebastian, a fait of passion upon you. Tucked into his side, laid across the messy bed, your skin was flushed with a scarlet blush. A few drops of sweat beaded at your forehead, threatening to drip down the side of your head. Long forgotten, the buttons on your blouse had been tugged open, plush breasts seeping through your chemise, and pressed against the body of your boyfriend.

You moaned, deepening the passionate kiss, letting your mouth drop open ever so slightly. With immense greed, you felt Sebastian’s hand, which had been sitting politely on the small of your back, grip against your flesh, as his tongue dipped into your mouth.

You pulled back against your own will. “Holy shit, it’s getting hot.” You chuckled as you caught your breath, lungs happily sucking in healthy gulps of fresh air.

Sebastian let out a breathy laugh. “Not hot enough, I say. You can’t be that hot if you’re still mostly clothed.”

His cheeky suggestion was not lost on you, as Sebastian’s hands skirted across your shoulders, pulling your blouse off completely, and throwing it under his bed, away from suspecting eyes. Next in pursuit came your pesky chemise, Sebastian’s least favourite garment of clothing. You had spent countless hours listening to him groan on and on about the chemise and how it hid away his girls.

As the chemise was removed from your sticky skin, Sebastian immediately delved into your perky breasts, mouth attached to the budding nipples with vigour. You let out an unexpected moan, throwing your head back against the headboard.

His tongue was delightful, thick, and warm, lips pulling on your nipples until they had been formed into peaks, working back and forth between them, as to now leave either one of them out. After a while, you become tedious with Sebastian’s attention on you, electing to elicit some fun as well.

Your wandering hands fell to his pants, still cladded to his lower body, which you personally weren’t too happy yet. Whining like a baby, you palmed your boyfriend’s member, that strained against the material of his pants, clawing to come out. With a pleading look in your eyes, you fluttered your eyelashes.

“Please let me help you out. I need you.”

You were begging, lowering your body, so your head was nearly hovering directly over his sweet crotch. You watched eagerly as Sebastian’s head flicked to the entrance of his dormitories. Nerves were building through his system, which you could tell by the tension flowing through his thighs. After a moment, he turned back to you, and gave an eager nod. “I need you too.”

Ever so excited, you dived in, peeling off the pants that shielded you from your prize, which you had so rightfully one. Oncs you had gotten Sebastian in just his boxers, you leaned downwards, licking a small stripe over his clothed cock. A shiver ran through his body.

A grin formed on your face. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

With your sinful words, Sebastian let out another groan, his body becoming moldable clay as you finally removed his boxers to reveal the most beautiful tool you’ve ever seen. Thick and curved, it stood waiting for you patiently, leaking droplets of rain onto the vast county of his torso. The clouds were coming in, promising rain.

Wrapping your lips around his tip, you mouthed at the blushed head, breathing hot air onto his sensitive skin, all to make him shiver. With a lick from the base to the top, Sebastian had let out his first high pitched moan of the night, something you were eager to hear again.

Unfortunately, just as you were about to push your head fully down the length, the door to the dormitory swung open with a rusty squeal. Alert, you immediately pulled off of Sebastian, noticing the matching fear in his eyes. His first instinct pulled you close to his chest, pulling you down against the covers, in any attempt of saving your modesty. It wasn’t until he heard the next voice that he realised he didn’t have to be so worried.

“Sebastian? Are you here?” His blind friend called, which allowed your boyfriend to let out a sigh of relief, petting the top of your head in a calming manner.

“Yeah, mate.” Sebastian exhaled, cupping your cheek with his hand. “Just having a lie down. Exhausted.”

Ominis chuckled. Peaking your head out of the four poster bed, you looked over to see Ominis, lost in his own actions, focused on whatever task he was trying to achieve. “Isn’t that right. Today’s been mental.”

Sebastian bit his lip nervously. “Going to bed now?”

You crossed your fingers, praying that Ominis would leave so you could get back to what you were doing, but to no avail. “Just gonna lie down too. Maybe go to sleep.”

You pulled your head back up to look at Sebastian, both of you donning an irritated look. Rolling your eyes, you allowed Sebastian to chuckle slightly, as you looked back out to your unsuspecting friend.

“Goodnight then.” Sebastian said.

“Goodnight.”

You watched as the end of Ominis’ wand, the one that usually glowed red at the tip to help him with his directions, lost its usual red spark, signifying that Ominis was about to cast another spell. What you weren’t expecting was clumsy Ominis to drop the wand, watching it roll away slightly. A sharp breath sucked into your mouth as he sprawled to the ground, in search of his wand.

It didn’t take long. Within seconds, Ominis had found the wand, standing back up again, but something was definitely not right. Listening closely, you could hear Ominis mutter a spell under his breath, but his wand seemed to be pointed in the wrong direction now.

“Silenco.”

Ominis, having lost his sense of direction when he dropped his wand, had accidentally cast the spell towards Sebastian’s bed, instead of his own. You were so close to alerting him of his mistake but when Sebastian flashed you a look, you stayed down.

It wasn’t long until you realised what was going on. Whether Sebastian knew this would happen or not, you couldn’t believe your ears as you began to hear the soft moaning from Ominis’ bed. You flashed Sebastian a look, confirming your suspicions.

Ominis was masturbating.

At first, your mouth hung open in shock as you laid petrified against the bed, unsure of what to do, until an idea sparked in your head.

Pulling up your skirt, you slowly swung your leg across Sebastian’s unsuspecting lap. You didn’t even let him speak before you had him straddled, your urges spurred on by the elegant moans of Ominis. His lusting voice was so posh, but so foreign, that the taboo of this all was rather exhilarating. Down below, you could feel the forecasted storm starting to pour down.

It began with a light drizzle, rocking yourself against Sebastian’s bare cock, copying the rhythm you were sure that Ominis was using. If you listened in carefully, you were certain that you could hear the soft squelching sound of hand against dick from behind Ominis’ curtains.

Grinding against Sebastian, your hand crept up his body, until it found residence against his mouth, preventing any slight noises to slip out. Instead, you felt the arousing vibrations against your palm. By now, it was a moderate shower.

“—Oh! Sweet Merlin…”

The sound of Ominis’ husked voice was enough to move you from sensual grinding into something more. Impatience was becoming an overwhelming virtue, as you raised yourself off of Sebastian’s lap, and back down again, but this time, with his cock standing at attendance. As your sopping heat made contact with Sebastian’s cock, a hum of pleasure escaped your lips.

You worked fast, not wanting to take up too much time, not that it would take you long to finish anyways. Hearing the sounds of your best friend moaning someone turned you on more than you liked to admit. Greedy as ever, you bounced against Sebastian’s cock, needing his impending release.

Sebastian spoke through clenched teeth. “I need to cum.”

You smirked. “Not until he does.”

It was a game of cat and mouse, pull and tug. For what it seemed like forever, you bounced on your boyfriend, slowing down when you could hear your friend’s pace faltering, and speeding back up again when his energy spiked. It wasn’t long until you both agreed that Ominis was coming.

What could only be described as a frenzied climax, Ominis let out one long, continuous moan, lifting off the bed so much that you could hear the mattress creek. You bent down to Sebastian’s ear, whispering seductively. “Finish.”

As if he needed anyone to tell him. Sebastian immediately poured into you, releasing everything he had. Triggering your own release, your vision turned to white, your head a swarm of dark clouds, lightning striking through your body, Ominis’ sounds the thunder.

Lifting off from Sebastian’s lap, you let his release pour one of you, giggling as you rained down on his sticky thighs, neither of you mentioning the blond elephant in the room.

~~

damn wtf ariadne this is filth wtf

[northsoulss]

dating you I - elisa de almeida

(a/n : i wrote this on a whim during my study break lol. this is how i think dating her would be like, of course take everything with a pinch of salt.)

whispers in the dark, trailing hands touching skin, giggles and laughter spilling from your lips. you stare at her, and she stares at you, eyes curved into crescent moons, crinkled skin with a crooked grin.

i. she looks at you like you hung the stars while you cook her childhood meal. she stares at your back from the kitchen island with a hand on her cheek as you pace around, taking different things from cupboards. you turn around, about to ask her to taste it to see if it needs more salt before pausing, seeing an intense lovesick expression on her face. in her eyes, you looked gorgeous, stray pieces of hair falling over that you tucked behind your ears, hair up in a messy bun, a light sheen of sweat on your forehead and arms. you only laugh, a massive flush creeping up onto your face. she only stares more whilst you shake your head, turning around so that she can’t see your flustered appearance.

ii. you think shes the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen as she helps you remove your makeup after a long day, eyes narrowed with concentration, lip pulled between her teeth to try not to get your makeup remover in your mouth. you laugh as she rubs your lips harshly with the cotton pad to get rid of your lipstick, a mischievous smile on her face.

iii. she thinks nothing could be more perfect than this, her lying face down with your body straddling her back. your warm hands slide up and down her tense back. you plant kisses along her spine as you make your way further down her body, each lingering touch sends an electric shock coursing through her body.

iv. after bad days, you know she would be waiting at home, despite her tiredness from trainings, with open arms and forehead kisses. her touch is comforting when you complain to her about how much of a bitch your boss is, her words like a soothing cup of tea on a cold winter morning.

v. she only realises how much you mean to her when after a fight, you still make an effort to plant sticky notes on the fridge for her to read before she goes to training.

“let’s make up? i promise good food when i’m back from work, love.”

she reads your hand writing completely smitten, looking at it as if you wrote her a poem. she takes the paper with a small smile on her lips, kissing it lightly before putting it in her wallet with the rest of the sticky notes that she has been collecting all year.

vi. you realise she is the one when hanging out with your friends, one of them asks you what is your vision of love and all you can think of is her laughter with that beautiful smile. you find her in all the small tasks you do, like finding a good song to listen to when doing chores, you get reminded of her telling you that this is her favourite song of all time, and it reminds her of you.

vii. when you’re laying in bed with her, face to face, your hearts beat in sync, and you unknowingly move closer to her. you recently read about when people hug, thats when two hearts are at their closest, literally inches apart. a small part of you thinks of that with a smile on your face and she doesn’t miss it. she wonders what you could be thinking of, but thoughts dissipate when when you tug her to your chest, so that the part of her that you love the most can be the closest to where your heart is. so that she can hear how your heart speeds up only for her.

©️northsoulss 2023, all rights reserved.

[leclsrc]

hi auds!! it's my birthday today ;) i never send reqs i know you get a whole ton of them but if you ever got around to this- i think the f1 fic world has a very worrying lack of aus. so could i get a band!charles au drabble where he writes a song about reader and she hears it on the radio? any song you like. reader could be driver or something or connected to f1 if thats cool !!! thank you sm!! i love you

knee socks – cl16

There’s a certain inevitability that comes with having sex with a misaligned, conceited lead guitarist of a band. You aren’t aware of this fact until it hits you in-between your brows with the force of an 18-wheeler truck, at 8AM, through the radio in your car.

genre: drabble... lots of smutty allusions

auds here... happy birthday anon, one month and then some later! to be completely honest i almost deleted this... but through some twist of fate, it was the only thing i could bully into completion lol (aside frm long form fics that i'm still working on) this is 1000% for u and i hope u accept it as a belated bday gift :) i agree btw! id love to see more au fics but it is still nice reading the canon compliant type ones hahah. also the song in this and its and title is of course from this

It was surprising enough to hear an announcement of a new single by The Incident, one that seemingly sprouted out of nowhere, sans promotion. The morning BBC show clobbered the song with theories before finally letting the drawled-out, sticky guitar filter through and into your car. That in itself was odd, sure. Maybe shocking a little. But you leaned into the leather seat and remained quiet.

When you were fifteen, you were convinced the lyrics to Hall & Oates’ “Rich Girl” pinned up perfectly to your (insufferable) personality of the time. Raised in a big family and working in a career of refined prestige, your budding skill and already-cemented name in the modeling industry were just two small indicators of your parents’ massive wealth. Of course, neither Hall nor Oates were actually sitting and writing songs and singing about you—you just found it made sense in one way or another.

That was three years before you met Charles three years ago, at a pub in Soho. His band had only just spilled out of the confines of Soundcloud and seedy managers; they’d broken five million monthly listeners and the throng of people were there to watch them live. You were at the pub for a pint with another friend and left him with your number, a slip of paper tinged with beer; he fished out the nearest surface you could write on from a nearby bowl. Do I Wanna Know? it read in rushed cursive. It was a song request that went unfulfilled.

Rumors flew in your circle. Your father soured at the idea of you seeing somebody he wasn’t actively doing business with, but he failed to realize how limited your dating pool would be if you followed his wishes. Your interactions with the Formula One men he sponsored or worked with, however few and far between, were rancid and impolite. The drivers wore expensive brands, ones that didn’t even fall familiar on people’s ears, but refused to tip beyond three pounds. It came as both a shock and no surprise that the nouveau rich rock singer treated you with more decency than any of them did.

He was shy about it first, knowing how filthy rich you were. He made jokes about how his flat could fit in your kitchen twice over. He spoke what little French he remembered from childhood to impress you, paid for takeout, wore Lacoste when he came over to drink—then fuck—because it was, at the time, the most decent brand he owned. It’d been January when he came over, caught a sight of you at the foyer with all your expensive coats hung up. Your tongue was blue with a lozenge. It was the only thing he could look at while fucking you.

He wore a light blue variant once, fit and snug on him. You wrestled it off him in-between hot, sweet kisses, kept it on your bed so it’d be the first thing you tugged on in the morning before a shoot for a brand you can no longer place.

The last time you saw him he’d shown you lyrics, sang them aloud, drummed the beat he thought of on the skin of your thigh. His accent disappeared into rasp and notes. You told him to perform it live and he fucked you splayed up against your door, bent over your counter, then with your knees pressed to your chest on your white sheets, warm from the laundry. S’good for me, aren’t you, princess? All for me. My filthy girl.

Two hours later: I’m going on tour, sweetheart, he’d said while he cleaned you up.

’Til? Or… like, for long? Naked, you wrapped your blanket around your frame.

Ah, oui. For a while. 

You failed to answer amicably, your eyebrows twisting. You didn’t think to tell me? Just up and leave then? No number, no text, no announcement, just— You exhaled tightly. You knew he didn’t owe you anything of the sort; the sex, you guessed, the company had been so good you’d deluded yourself into thinking so.

Kitten—

Don’t call me that, you huffed, angrier now. Petulant. You got up and crowded him ’til you got to the door. Get the fuck out.

You watched him leave, brown leather jacket and black tee disappearing into London, and wrenched memories of him from the depths of your brain, the two years of your back and forth rendezvous. You wondered why you didn’t get a song in that time, after his ascent to fame, after the release of other hit singles inspired by his bandmates’ gossip rags and measly shags.

So a year later, when the memories have just begun to purge themselves—when the lyrics, which already have sent a swoop through your stomach, progress into the line When you walked around your house wearin' my sky blue Lacoste… and your knee socks, you effectively choke on your a.m. cappucino. It’s like “Rich Girl” all over again, but this is overt, it’s targeted. Like whoever wrote it must’ve known you’d be listening right now, en route to a shoot at eight in the morning.

“All good, miss?” Ed, your chauffeur, meets your eyes in the rearview, concerned.

“Perf—” your voice cracks. “Perfect.”

You screw your eyes shut and try to collect yourself, zeroing in on the lyrics that’d been foggy before.

Curing his January blues—the month you two started sleeping together.The fact that he’d had your number, a famous stranger, before you had his. Every beat, every word, every deep-voiced lyric traces back to you (unless, of course, he’s busying himself shagging any other girl in London on rainy Tuesdays and letting her wear his now-old polos. The thought sends a pang of jealousy through you.)

But you know better. You know you’re the only one.

Because your phone’s the only one buzzing late into the damp night—when the zeroes line up on the clock by your bed, the one he fixed up for you—with a number you’ve removed the name of, blocked at some point, but can still memorize in his absence.

Maybe tonight you’ll pick up.

[chocolatecoveredfanfics]

I should be asleep but instead I'm writing about Ezreal and him sweating.... Thanks LoL & Riot for the performance and the new artwork of the Heartsteel boys 👀

Warnings: Semi-blowjobs, does sweat count?

Every word Ezreal spoke went through one ear and out the other. And what has you so distracted? None other the the green haired menace himself. He doesn't even know.

God he doesn't even know

How tantalizing he looks right now: face flushed, hair pushed back, and sweat rolling down the toned planes of his arms and chest. When he pulled his shirt off to try and cool down you knew it was over for you.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." His voice finally snapped you out of your daze and you looked up at him, standing before you in all his shirtless glory. "Were you even listening to me?" He pouts. Now you felt a tad guilty. Today was Heartsteel's first performance since their debut and Ez was excited to talk all about it (despite you being backstage with Alune and watching it through the equipment they had set up). "Uh, sorry...?" His shoulders dropped, a pout still on his face at your not so sincere apology. After a second or two he instantly lights up with an idea and his eyes sparkle at you.

"I know how you can make it up to me~" He said in a sing-song voice, leaning down coming face to face with you.

Your mouth started watering

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

You moaned at the salty taste of him, your tongue lapping against every inch of skin. "Fuck, what's gotten into you?" Ezreal spoke in a hoarse voice, his legs shaking from the onslaught of pleasure. His hand gently grasped the back of your head while you moved away from his aching cock to nip and suck at the salty skin on his thighs.

You were not going to admit to Ezreal that seeing him sweaty made you hot and bothered.

"Hey~ Come on now don't tease me. You're supposed to show me how sorry you are!" Ezreal whined, his hips bucking forward, causing his cock to leave a sticky trail across you cheek as it brushed along your skin. He hissed at the sensation that was cut off by a sharp, 'ah!' when you gripped his heated flesh.

"I'm sorry," you coo, kissing the flushed tip, your tongue peaking out to swipe against the opening and collecting pre-cum on your tongue, "I'll take care of you baby, promise."

[cozage]

Hiii, I recently discovered your blog and I am obsessed with your writing style! This is my first ask ever lol so hopefully I do it right. Can I request the reader doing small acts of service (ie. frequently baking sweets for him, gives him hand massages, and etc) for Sanji because our love cook is so attentive to everyone and I just want to pamper him sometimes! He deserves it.

A/N: Hi!! Thank you so much for the ask, I’m honored to be your first one! You did it perfectly :)  I absolutely must plug my other one shot I just wrote, Made for Two, if you want some sweet Sanji fluffiness and haven’t read it yet!!! But here’s a sweet little head canon list for him

Characters: gn reader x Sanji

Cw:  Just sweet sweet fluff

Total word count: 500

Pampering the Prince

First off, it’s HARD to pamper him. Sanji is the kind of guy who refuses any kind of acts of service because he doesn’t want you to inconvenience yourself. 

Hand massages are a must (just like you said), but Sanji only lets you do it when he’s super super tired and when you're both in bed. Very very rarely, he’ll even lay on his stomach and let you massage his shoulders and back, allowing you to work the knots out of his tense muscles. 

You love to put essential oils in the diffuser for your room. Lavender is his favorite, so you always put it in about an hour before you know he’s coming to bed so he can fall asleep easily.

When you know he has an early morning, you’ll get the coffee pot ready the night before so all he has to do is turn the switch on. He doesn’t drink coffee normally, but on the long days he’ll usually have a cup. You’ll get up with him in the morning and drink coffee with him just so you guys have a bit of quiet time to yourselves before he sends you back to bed while he starts the long day. 

Whenever the Sunny is in port, Sanji is pretty focused on stocking up on food for the crew, so you always do the essential shopping for him. Shampoo, conditioner, soap, toothpaste. You always throw in a new shirt or some sunglasses you think he’d like too. He’s really particular about his hair products, but you always get it right. 

Sanji is definitely a quality time kind of guy as well, so the best thing you can do is just sit with him in the kitchen while he cooks. You talk about your life and offer up your hopes and dreams to him, and he listens every day, no matter how long you talk. He loves the sound of your voice, it’s like a melody to him.

You know how particular he is about his kitchen, so you don’t really cook alone in the kitchen, BUT you always ask to cook with him. Sometimes it's helping him cook dinner for everyone, but you both really like the times where you just make a small little dessert and then hide away in the kitchen, sharing it quietly without telling anyone what you’ve made. 

You love to make little drawings for him and leave little notes around the kitchen for him. He’ll open the fridge to find “I love you!” on the milk carton. He’ll pull out a pan and find a sticky note that says “All blue? No, I’m all for you!” Just silly quirky notes that make him smile. He saves every single one that he finds.

[mothmans-left-buttcheek]

The Bitch, the Witch, and the Star

Jay Mocking x Allie Perea x Nova James

Inspired by @eddiemunson-reader-shame and @floredaqueen FOLLOW THEM OH MY GOD!!

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary- Fresh out of school in the summer of 85. Allie Perea and Jay Mocking are enjoying the cold delights served at Scoops A’hoy until Nova James shakes up their evening.

Warnings: profanity, references to sex, a bisexual disaster, this is basically just fluff with cursing and friendly bullying

Playlist: Rio by Duran Duran, Walk This Way by Aerosmith, Cheri Cheri Lady by Modern Talking

A/N: So I’ve been engaging in fanfics for years but rarely writing my own since I’m mostly inspired by original characters, so this is a scene with two of my favorite Stranger Things oc’s including my own because I am simply self indulgent lol. Basically I thought “what if I threw three girls in love with Eddie Munson in a room” and this was the result. I’ve done my best to interpret the characters with the information I could find while also manipulating some information for the sake of timeframe, I apologize if anything is out of character!

The artwork above is just a sketch I made while letting the fic cook, it's not great, I'm more a writer than an artist, but I hope y'all like it. There’s also songs I’ve associated with certain moments in the fic, feel free to give them a listen.

(Listen to “Rio”, Duran Duran)

There wasn’t anything to do in Hawkins Indiana. Sure there were record stores and vintage diners along the main strip downtown, but those industries were carried on by traditional residents alone. There wasn’t anything charming about Hawkins, it was just your run of the mill middle of nowhere Midwestern town. Until the Starcourt mall.

The newest edition to the smallest town in the Midwest was a hit amongst locals. Normally your selections for an evening out were slim to none, you’d have to drive hours away for the best date nights. But the Starcourt Mall was a shining beacon to the people of Hawkins, a tower of neon lights that sang a song of genuine entertainment. Shaky escalators, iconic chain clothing stores, a food court fumigating with grease, and a cozy movie theater to boot Hawk theater out of business.

It had everything to appeal to anyone from a rambunctious teen to a generous grandparent, the glow of the sun coming in from the glass ceiling more than just a natural light source. It was the light of hope for social lives all across town. Not to mention the impact it had on the economy. Hundreds of new jobs opened up to the ambitious folks in Hawkins with the promise of decent salary. Many people left their jobs at their local mom-and-pop-shops, so the town lost some of its historic charm with the modern mall, but with all the beloved structure had to offer it was difficult to find real fault in Starcourt. There was a Jazzercise studio, a gaming arcade, Sears. With no competition for miles, Starcourt Mall ruled Hawkins Indiana the summer of ’85.

(Listen to “Walk This Way”, Aerosmith)

“Where’d you get that record?” Allie asked.

She lounged casually in the plush seats in Scoops A’hoy, the slightly sticky leather clinging to the dense fabric of her brown carhartt jacket. Select patches adorned the piece, their rough texture matching with the slightly worn out graphic of her Van Halen shirt. Allie’s stare was buffered by square glasses, her round brown eyes flickering across the table with growing judgment. Full cheeks which would look lovely in a smile only adding to her youthful appearance while her full lips pulled into an unamused frown. A hint of pink in her tawny skin accented by the dark birthmarks under her eye. Her brown hair tickled her shoulders with a volume brought on by messy waves.

Allie Perea was rarely seen without a displeased stare, could’ve been caused by her tumultuous family or could’ve been caused by her fresh seeded hatred for Hawkins. She’d moved in less than a year ago, yet within her first day she had marked herself as a basket case amongst her fellow classmates. The bucket of insults she had collected filtered out to one title she did her best to wear proudly, “The Bitch of Hawkins High.” She possessed an off-putting attitude ready for someone to have a problem with her and an unwillingness to be social, which made her seat in a social setting like Starcourt Mall unusual. In truth Allie stared at the girl across the sugar stained table, a shadow looming in the bright colored shop.

Brown hooded eyes stared back at her framed by thick black eye makeup, black hair teased to high heaven like a rain cloud around her head. Her upturned nose sported a septum ring and her tall cheekbones were painted with unnaturally sharp black contour, it washed out her pale skin to a sickly ivory. A Siouxsie and the Banshees shirt cut off her shoulders while fishnet gloves crawled up her arms to meet the short sleeves. She had thin lips painted in a deep red with an oval birthmark dotted just under the left of her lip.

Janice, Jay, Mocking had practically grown up in Hawkins. She memorized every store to street corner, remembered all the awkward stages of the preps and jocks that mocked her, and knew every hypocrite that attended Sunday service in the church her parents pastored. In middle school her odd tendencies were mostly glossed over thanks to the authority her parents had in the community, but she lost her safety when her childhood sketches of graveyards and growing taxidermy collections got out. Her outcast shift was welcomed by her peers with a series of rude and ironic insults, and despite all the bird puns made from her name “The Hawkins Witch” was the name that stuck the most.

So it was appropriate for the bitch and the witch to grow a relationship that benefited the both of them. Allie had someone to help her navigate and Jay could be weird without being alone. Getting to know Starcourt mall had become their pastime, so despite their antisocial tendencies the two enjoyed getting complimented by strangers or berated by their school nemesis in a building with more escape routes.

Jay had let Allie’s question hang in the air, the two giving matching deadpanned stares while Scoops A’hoy bustled around them. After a slow deliberate blink Jay eventually answered, “Sam Goody’s.”

A lick of shame twisted her tongue, and Allie caught it.

“Sam Goody’s? Isn’t that a chain store? Weren’t you bashing chain stores last week?.” Allie accused.

Jay rolled her eyes back and pulled the vinyl into her lap, “look, Tears for Fears came out with a new album and I’ve been dying to-“

“Tears for Fears?” Allie interrupted.

Jay stifled just for a moment, unsure if she misspoke, “yes? Tears for Fears, Songs from the Big Chair?”

The girl across from her adjusted her glasses and brushed her hair back.

“What happened to all the punk ideologies you were preaching last week? Not going to chain stores or feeding the industry and shit?”

“The album came out months ago and Music Mania downtown still doesn’t have any copies, one little Sam Goody’s run isn’t gonna hurt anyone,” Jay defended herself with a near perfect cadence. Like this was an argument she had rehearsed in her head.

“I’m just surprised you’re breaking your ‘goth principles’ over Tears For Fears.”

“Bitch, you listen to Phil Collins.”

“I do, oh I do, proudly in fact. But I’m not busting my balls adhering to rules of my subculture, and then breaking said rules for a pop group.”

“They’re pop-rock! You know what- forget it, I’m not taking shit from a ‘metalhead’ that listens to Prince.”

Allie slowly shook her head while maintaining eye contact, “... says the hypocrite.”

“Yeah?” Jay answered while raising her brows and cocking her head to the side.

“Well you’re a try hard.”

Allie crossed her arms, “you’re a poser-”

“You’re a virgin,” Jay interjected while slightly lunging over the table. The two were locked in a stare down for a long passage of silence.

“… do you wanna split a sundae?” Allie asked suddenly.

Jay’s eyes flickered to the table as she contemplated with a hum before she looked back up at Allie with a shrug, “butterscotch?”

She grimaced and groaned to disagree, “grody.”

Jay sighed in disappointment, turning her head to look back at the menu and consider their options. Just as she did so she was hit with a whiff of sweet perfume and a flash of baby blue in her vision. She felt her stomach drop just for a moment as she recognized the form walking up to the register.

(Listen to “Cheri Cheri Lady”, Modern Talking)

If mermaids were real she would be a siren. Warm skin shining rose gold in the light, plump round lips painted with delicate gloss, and deep doe eyes with lushes lashes fluttering with mischief. Her maple brown hair was long and rich in volume, curled to perfection while her bangs floated gently over her forehead. One birthmark kissed her left side just under her lip and another sat comfortably under her right eyebrow. She was dressed simply but with perfect measure, her blue dress hugging her slim waist and chest tightly while swaying around her wide hips and along her thick thighs.

Aknova James was borderline Hawkins royalty. Her parents were loaded so she was afforded every luxury the average resident of Hawkins would have to go out of their way for. While growing up under the influence of the Hippie movement from the prior decade, Nova grew into an incredibly classy young woman. At least she appeared classy. Just underneath her elegantly trimmed smile was a carefree attitude and an iron resolve, few people’s opinions could deter her predetermined perspective. And should someone cross her, she had a few choice words which would knock the wind out of anyone’s sails. Thankfully the shining star used her power wisely… more or less.

“Ohhh fuck,” Jay muttered as she watched the new customer pass by their table.

Allie’s brows furrowed and she twisted to try to match Jay’s gaze, “What?”

The second she spotted the cheerleader her own jaw became slack, “Ohhh mierda.”

Both the odd balls were familiar with Nova, mostly from the captivating atmosphere she carried through the halls, and long winded rumors of her privileged position. Being on the cheer team also granted her revered social status, and the outcasts clocked her high school social class from miles away. She was in a different league from the two entirely; when she entered a room, things shook. They could only hope things would shake away from them.

“That’s Nova James,” Allie commented with surprise.

“Yeah I know that’s Nova fucking James, her giant ass is ten feet away from my face,” Jay hissed. Curling her fingers together and resting her elbows on the table, her chin sat atop her intertwined gloved hands. Narrowing her eyes at the girl who had approached the desk, she grumbled under her breath just loud enough for her friend to hear.

“Shit, she looks hot. Really hot.”

“Good, she’ll take some of the attention off of you and your rats nest,” Allie teased while pulling at the wispy strands of Jay’s teased hair.

“It’s a bat's nest, god, and you know what, maybe I want a little attention! I’m hot! And when Madonna wannabe’s aren’t walking around like they’re god's greatest gift to the mall, I actually get compliments!”

Allie opened her mouth to reply to her friend’s banter but was left without any silence to fill.

“God she really pisses me off. Every time she comes in here she asks for a sample, dislikes the sample, and orders two scoops of strawberry in a waffle cone. But like three bites into the ice cream she sticks the whole thing into a bowl. You’d think she’d start cutting to the chase and getting strawberry in a bowl, but no, she goes through the whole process every time.”

The brunette stared at the rambling goth across from her with concern. “… are you stalking her?”

Jay looked back at her with a face still perplexed in frustration at the girl currently ordering, “I’m here a lot, and I like to people-watch, okay? Look- just look-“

As she insisted and subtly pointed to Nova, the girl already had a small spoon between her lips. Chewing slightly and nodding in response she tossed the spoon into a small trash bin. She pursed her lips while thinking for a moment, the dirty blonde currently working the desk sighing with an empty stare as Nova contemplated. She finally spoke up and pointed to a flavor sitting deep in the display. Allie and Jay watched intently while the employee leaned to grab a waffle cone, and after digging her scooper into the tub she lifted a perfect scoop of pink and red, followed by a second scoop to raise the height of the treat.

“Yeah, she got strawberry,” Allie nodded absentmindedly at the scene in front of her only to be immediately shushed by Jay who was still watching like a hawk.

Nova received the ice cream with a smile, licking a stripe while rummaging through her purse. She took a second bite while pulling out cash and dropped it casually by the register. Her motions stilled as she waited for her change to be rung up, and only once the receipt was handed to her did she take a third bite of the ice cream. After a brief conversation with the current employee the girl was handed a small bowl, and Nova dumped her ice cream down into the cup quickly while the waffle cone peaked out like a tall tower.

“Boom!” Jay slammed her hands against the table. “Just like I said. She literally has a pattern!”

Allie flinched, startled from the noise but nodded back.

“Yep, yeah, wow,” she began in a sarcastic voice. “She literally did exactly what you said she would do. That was crazy. I’m so- so enraged by her behavior. Good catch Jay.”

“… can you at least pretend to care?”

“I was pretending.”

“Well then do it better-“

“Hey Jay,” a new voice chimed into their conversation.

The two girls turned their gazes to the opposite side of their table to find a pretty brunette in a blue dress staring at them patiently while chewing on a spoonful of ice cream. A smirk tugged at her lips and she batted her lashes with feigned innocence. The once previously hunched over goth straightened in her seat and smiled politely.

“Hey- hi, Nova. Good to see you.” She slurred in slight panic.

“You know I thought Elvira was sitting here for a second, I was about to ask for an autograph! How are you?” Nova asked as she shifted her weight to one hip, eyes flickering between the two girls sitting side by side in the booth.

Jay let out a breathless laugh while her flattered face grew pink.

“I’m good, uhm, have you met Allie?” Jay asked as she motioned to her friend next to her, Nova’s eyes quickly followed like she had been waiting for the stranger to be brought up.

“No, not formally, I’m Nova James,” she said with an award winning grin. Her hair falling delicately to one shoulder as if it was commanded to.

Allie was struggling to respond, staring wide-eyed while her mouth hung open and a hum rang out, like she was a robot in the middle of saying hi before someone hijacked her programming. Jay gently kicked Allie under the table to silence her droning, their thick boots creating a dull ‘thwack’ against each other.

“Hi! Nice to meet you finally, formally, properly, uhm- I’m Allie Perea, I moved here a few months ago- New Mexico.” Allie came to life and spoke quickly.

“No way,” Nova’s voice peaked with intrigue, “that’s so cool! I went there for a music festival with my parents when I was younger.”

Allie was wide eyed behind her square glasses, “Oh wow, you’ve really traveled- uh, yeah we get really good groups out there. My dad took me to see Van Halen last year.” She said and after a beat tugged on her tour t-shirt.

“Those are the guys that did that one song-” Nova hummed the opening melody to Jump while squinting her eyes to place the group in her mind.

“Yeah! Yeah that’s them!” Allie answered with a grin

“Gnarly, they seem fun to hear live.” She complimented while watching the bundled up girl continue to gawk. Allie’s soft features slowly started to curl into an impressed smile, eyes shining with excitement at the mention of the band. Although the transfer student was a fresh face, the cheerleader couldn’t help but find Allie endearing and sweet.

Allie’s mind on the other hand was a whirlwind, this casual interaction defied everything she knew about the social hierarchy in Hawkins. Cheerleaders didn’t talk to basket cases and when they did they certainly weren’t nice about it. Yet the wealthy girl was currently on equal footing as the outcasts, enjoying the same atmosphere and the same sweet treat. The concept helped to soothe Allie’s rampant anxiety.

Jay looked between the two for a moment as the conversation halted, so she interrupted the awkward silence with as charming a smile as she could muster, “Well what brings you to the mall? Running some errands? Meeting up with a hot date?”

Nova laughed and waved her hand in the air, “not today, I’m just meeting up with a friend.”

Nova glanced between the two girls, her foxy eyes glimmering with cunning as her freehand pressed on the table. Leaning over the table to get closer to them she tilted her head.

“Actually, you guys are friends with Eddie Munson right?”

The question punctuated a pause in the banter, Jay and Allie flickering their eyes to meet as their faces twinned in confusion.

“Yeah? We are.” Jay answered uncertain.

“Does he have a job right now?”

It was then Allie barked a harsh laugh, a mocking smile stretching her lips.

“I think Eddie’s allergic to work! Guys been slacking off all summer, super bummed about being held back… I shouldn’t have said that last part.”

“It’s fine, I suspected as much.” Nova pulled out a small paper from her purse and slid it onto the table.

“My dad’s looking for someone to keep our pool clean for the summer, pay’s pretty good. If you guys could let him know I’d really appreciate it, have him give me a call if he wants the job.”

As the paper rested between the pair they both moved to inspect it, and sure enough it was Nova’s phone number. Written plainly but perfectly nonetheless. Jay ran the paper between her hands for a moment while she glanced back and forth between the paper, her friend, and the cheerleader.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, we will let him know of the opportunity.”

“Great, you guys are the best! I’ve gotta go but I’ll catch you later,” Nova gave them a playful wink and walked off, her hips swaying side to side as she waved to someone beyond Scoops A’hoy. “Isa! Over here!”

Jay scrambled to lean on the table and watch the swaying of her skirt, “hate to see her leave, love to watch her walk away-“

“Holy shit what was that?” Allie exclaimed as she grabbed Jay’s arm and shook her harshly. “How did she know your name?”

“I don’t know!”

“I thought I was gonna die! Pinche madre, she knows my name now!” Allie deflated in her seat and slapped her hand against her chest.

Jay was too busy examining the slip of paper in her hands, bouncing slightly in her seat while relishing over the dark ink, “and we have her phone number! She gave us her number!”

“… yeah, for Eddie…” Allie corrected with a studious cadence.

Jay turned to look at her, both staring deadpanned as they had earlier.

“… and? She handed it to me.”

“I don’t think she wants you as her poolboy.”

“Hey, I could make a great pool boy. I’m fit, I’m handy-“

“Jay, she wants to fuck Eddie.”

“Ew!” Jay’s face scrunched up like she had tasted a fresh lemon and she dropped the number on the table.

“Gag me with a spoon, don’t put that image in my head!”

“It’s obvious! If her family was really just looking for someone to clean their pool they’d get some average Joe off the street, but Nova’s looking for someone specific to take it. I mean she went out of her way to talk to us just to get to Eddie!”

Allie waved her hands in the air for emphasis and finally slapped them back down in her lap, her friend watching with her lips pressed thinly together and a stare that suggested denial. With a groan Jay dropped her head into her hands and rubbed her face harshly.

“Oh god, she’s gonna fuck Eddie…”

Allie nodded back, the thought that they were accidental accomplice’s in an aspiring hookup was awkward enough. But when factoring in that one of the most popular girls in Hawkins High was making a pass at their loser Dungeon Master, a guy so different from her, a whole new cloud of shame hung over their heads in response’.

Considering Eddie’s romantic track record, Nova’s chances with him were shaky; his last relationship ended in a felony and his crush turned out to be a lesbian. Whatever the result, Allie and Jay had to endure bearing witness. The two girls sat in quiet contemplation, imagining what kind of dumpster fire Eddie would make out of Nova’s advances while also reeling that they encountered a wild cheerleader and survived unscathed.

“… do you wanna split a sundae?” Allie asked with disdain still present in her attitude.

Jay raised her head, humming in contemplation, “butterscotch?”

“… fuck it, sure.”

[sweetrottenendings]

"The Truth of Us"

Lawrence Oleander x GN AFAB!Reader NSF/W

TWs/Tags: Dead Dove, Blood, Wound opening(/fingering kinda), pretty tame ngl but it's Lawrence so be warned lol

Idk how I feel but I'm still gettin used to it lols writing smut is confusing

Lawrence has always been obsessed with your body- it's been clear since he took you and proceeded to fondle your spine, groping each vertebrae. He’s smitten with your heart especially, the way it pumps blood throughout you, the sounds it makes when he listens close enough. Those hands of his often press against where it would be on your chest, rambling about how desperately he wants to grab it- feel the wet organ squirm as he tears it out. You used to think he actually would, he honestly might have at the beginning- but he’s come to love you too much. The connection you two share is one he will never find again in life or death, there’s no way he can let that go just yet.

He lets out a shaky breath, tracing the pattern of a heart (the actual organ, not the cutesy shape we associate with it) with trembling fingers. “It would be so delicate.” He whispers. “I wish I could just reach into you and squeeze.” Although quiet, he no longer stutters when he speaks to you- coming to feel some confidence, considering the power he holds over you. Warmth floods your gut as he fawns, a sick lust bubbling in your soul. He’s really made you into a sick freak, hasn’t he? Anything to make life with him better, you suppose.

You let out a sigh as his hands reach to grip at your waist, rubbing the flesh between his fingers and pressing hard enough to bruise. His cheeks are a gentle shade of pink when he leans in to kiss you with chapped lips and you allow yourself to soften into it. He’s never really become good at kissing, his motions are always uncoordinated and sloppy with the occasional clashing of teeth- but that’s how you like it. The truths of his love fumble out with those kisses in which he can never bring himself to hide them, he’s so smitten that he can only meld his lips into yours like that of a schoolboy with his first partner. 

A hand reaches back up to that spot on your chest, he digs his nails into it and rubs at the marks.

“Would your heart taste sweet?” He muses, slightly breathless. “I can just imagine it- fuck I need it so bad-” A sweet whimper spills from him, his eyebrows furrowing as he imagines the taste of the wet, squishy organ on his tongue. You shiver at his words, imagining it yourself too. Although logically it isn’t possible- the idea of watching him take large bites out of your heart makes the budding arousal throb harder. The closest thing you can get right now is the awkward meshing of your tongues, you swirl them together causing drool to pool down your chins. Sticky, messy- everything Lawrence isn't but sometimes, he'll indulge with you. He just adores you so dearly in his fucked up little brain.

He pins your hands above your head (the hands you proved yourself worthy of keeping, thankfully) in a swift movement. With deeply blushed cheeks and lidded eyes he pants, chest heaving with each intake of breath. He's oh so beautiful, in all of who he is and it makes you so needy. Your legs are nudged apart with his knees so they lay gently around his waist. The aching length of his cock grinds into your core through each other's clothes and he whimpers at the contact, while you let out a breathy sigh.

“Mmph- I wish I could tear you open” He lets out a shaky sigh. “and just, lick every organ you've got.” The gory, lewd image causes his grip on you to tighten. You desperately lift your head up for another kiss, always so desperate to feel his lips on yours. He only indulges you with a peck before lifting the shirt you wear– the only clothing you really have besides underwear. Lawrence likes the vulnerability of it, but gets too flustered if you're completely nude, so it's a compromise.

As he lets go of your wrists you reach out to him, wanting him to follow suit in terms of nudity. He hesitates, he always does, still insecure in his body despite how much you love it.

“Please Law…” You whine, as sweetly as you can. “wanna see you, please?” 

He lets out an exasperated sigh, like you're a child asking for a second sweet, and lifts his shirt over his head. His skin has that slightly grey tinge, like it's had the life sapped from it (which technically it has.) and you stare at him in awe. You'll never get tired of seeing him- just as he'll never get tired of seeing you.

A hand goes to your left breast, grabbing what he can of the soft flesh and kneading it causing you to moan softly. He used to hate when you made any sound, frightened by having a partner that's responsive, but over time he's come to enjoy it. However you can't be too loud, it still irritates him- keep the volume just right and he'll be throbbing within you. “So soft…” He coos, gazing gently at you. “always so soft, squishy, fragile.” He giggles, leaning his face to yours, you feel his breath fan your lips.

“My fragile little flower, you wilt so easily don't you?” He asks with a hum, but he doesn't want an answer. He pinches the already hardened bud that is your nipple between his fingers roughly. It makes you squirm in pain, which makes him shiver in delight. The hand not in use slowly travels down your body, groping any flesh he can get his hands on. Your stomach, waist, hips- he grabs every part of you excitedly before sliding down to your panties where he feels the soaked patch you left. He groans, “Always so wet and needy.” A finger slowly begins to rub where your clit would be in little circles, and he relishes the small moans you let out. 

“You really are a flower, huh? So pretty, fragile and desperate for attention at every given moment~” He sighs wistfully, “And so dumb, no brains at all.” Although you feel ashamed, the mockery makes you throb with need. There's something about being so pathetic that you're compared to a plant that you enjoy- maybe it's the idea of needing to rely on him, forever. 

Both of his hands move to the waistband of your underwear, slowly peeling them down so he can see the way your slick leaves a little string between you and the fabric. His nails scratch you as he removes them, leaving little marks along his path. You try to cover your face out of embarrassment but a hand to your throat stops the motion.

“Don't you dare.” His voice comes out in a growl, filled with rage at the mere prospect of hiding from him. “Keep your eyes on me.” 

Without warning he's suddenly knuckles deep with two fingers in your pussy and you let out a gasp. He fingers you aggressively, nails occasionally scraping on the sensitive flesh of your inner walls. It hurts, it hurts so good. It makes you writhe and arch your back, squealing at the sensation when he curls his fingers to hit that spongy spot inside of you. 

“Law-” You gasp, words coming out between harsh breaths. “Need to- can I- please-”

He scowls, covering your mouth and quickening the pace of his fingers. “Be quiet.” 

He removes the hand and takes advantage of the space your arched back has made. He reaches around to it- the wound that encapsulates everything the two of you are. He prods at the wound on your spine, and digs his fingers into it until it splits- you scream. It hurts so fucking bad- and it makes you cum all over his fingers. The pain, the pleasure- Lawrence. It's just too much, and makes you a convulsing, trembling mess.

“You can never keep quiet can you?” He taunts, voice filled with rage which you can't tell if it's genuine or fake. “Always so loud, maybe I should cut your tongue and shut you up.” Your heart pumps with fear, but you know he'd never do it. Not now, when he's developed an affection for your voice that he didn't have before.

He withdraws his fingers from your cunt, covered with your cum and a few droplets of blood. The fingers go into his mouth and he swirls his tongue around them, savouring the taste in silence before hitching your legs onto his shoulders. The tip of his aching, leaking cock drags along your slit, coating it in the remnants of your orgasm. He moans at the sensation, prodding your clit with his tip and bucking into it slightly. You whine at the teasing, and he grips your jaw harshly. 

“Quiet.” You finally listen to him, managing to gather yourself enough to lower your sounds into near whispers. He visibly relaxes at this, smiling at your obedience. “Good, my sweet flower.”

His cock is sheathed into you with one fluid motion, pressed so deeply it nearly kisses your cervix.

“Warm- you’re always so warm-” He drawls, little bits of drool dripping from his lips. The warmth of your body has always made him break, it’s the only warm body he’s ever fucked- ever will fuck. You bite your lower lip to prevent from yelping, drawing blood which Lawrence lowers his tongue to so he can lick it up. He moans at how your blood tastes, and reaches back around to your open spinal wound to get more. You hadn't noticed due to all the sensations but there was a lot of blood- you’d be okay, but it wouldn't seem like it at a first glance. He dips his fingers into it, prodding as close to the vertebrae as he can. Your eyes water and you have to force yourself not to scream. Then bringing his fingers back to his lips. He laps at your blood like it's the sweetest treat he could ever find (It probably is.) and he lets out a languid moan as he practically fingers his own mouth.

“Fuck, I could just-” A shuddering breath, and muffled speaking. “I could just drink you dry.” He finally begins to thrust, fingers still deep in his mouth. It’s immediately fast, hard, aggressive- every strong emotion Lawrence can muster comes out when he fucks you. The confidence he’s found over time has made him a violent man to fuck, just like his violence in day to day life. Tears stream freely down your cheeks as you desperately try to keep your moans quiet, cute whines slipping out that he smiles at. You’re overstimulated, your senses are flooded and there's no escape because all there is is Lawrence. 

His dingy bed creaks with every thrust, the squeaks of the springs ringing in your ears in a way that makes you squirm. It’s an awful sound, but you'll put up with it if it means you get to see him like this. Lost in pleasure, lost in you and lapping your blood like it's a drug. Quickly another knot builds and you curl your toes in a desperate attempt to not fall apart just yet. The way you tighten around his cock makes him whine and fuck you faster, his hips stuttering as he comes closer to the edge. You want to cum with him, so you'll hold back as long as you can.

“Fuck- haah- ‘m close,” He groans, blue eyes staring deeply into your own eyes. “G-gonna cum, you’re gonna t-take it all yeah?” He begins to stutter as he gets closer, voice betraying the confidence he portrays. You nod desperately, “Yes! Please Lawrence- fuck!-” A squeal erupts from your throat as you cum, unable to hold back any longer. Although loud, he doesn't seem to mind it this time as the feeling of your orgasm sends him into his own. His body presses close against yours as he spills into you, pumping every drop of his seed as deep as he can. “T-that’s it- take it all-” Hot breath fans your face as he speaks, his eyes locked deep into yours. Blue is all you see, sinking you deep into his soul. (If he still has one.)

You both slowly relax after the post-orgasmic bliss settles. His body falls to lay on top of you, arms wrapped around you as he traces his fingers up to play with your spine once more. It’s not sexual now, instead it's like comfort to him. Feeling your flesh, your bones, the delicate curve of your spine. It hurts, but you instead focus on the comfort that is snuggling into his sweaty chest. He’ll fix you up later, give you some tea to make you relax. 

Maybe this is what you were made for.