#if y’all enjoy it

[roguelov]

… am I really about to write a short smutty Miguel fic that caters to only me???

yes yes I think I am

[black-quadrant]

sometimes all you need is one passionate person who goes berserk for your work to keep you creating

[fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma]

tfw you’ve been tasked to murder the prince of the northern water tribe but he’s really majestic

(they make a compromise)

[thatskindarough]

“‘I just…I thought you might like to come back, one day,’ Crowley said very quietly. Aziraphale’s foot pressed against his again, and Crowley drew in a sudden breath, as if he hadn’t been breathing properly since Aziraphale had stopped touching him.”

This piece was a commission from the lovely @fellshish for their lovely friend, @alphacentaurinebula ‘s fic What Are You Doing Here? This fic is cute, funny, heartwarming, and incredibly spicy, and I’m very much looking forward to finishing it! Thank you Fells for being wonderful to work with, and happy (belated) birthday to you Alphacentauri, I’m very happy I could do this for you!

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Sensitivity✨

I am an absolute SLUT for Luci’s wings so I wanted to write something with them :), huge thank you to @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis for the help 💖

Also I’m legit on a cruise ship rn, but @amberlouise473 knows I gotta feed y’all like I’m tossing corn to my chickens 🤣

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: You’re super curious about Lucifer’s wings, but neither of you knew how sensitive they were. You didn’t know how sensitive you could be either…

Warnings: 18+, smut, dry humping, ruined clothes, pet names, oral (f receiving), face riding, over stimulation, multiple orgasms

It was time for bed and Lucifer was still working. You knew he worked late sometimes but this seemed a little later than usual. You decided to take a look to see if he was still in his office. Sure enough, you saw him sitting down at his desk when you entered the room. But when you looked closer, you saw that he’d fallen asleep at his desk, his head resting in his arms. He looked so peaceful lying there, you almost didn’t want to disturb him. But you knew he’d feel a lot better if he actually slept in your bed instead of hunched over his desk. Quietly, you walked towards him trying not to make any loud noises that might startle him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking it lightly.

“Luci?,” you whispered, “Luci, it’s time for bed, wake up sleepy head.” He moaned quietly, but your shaking didn’t seem to have done the trick. You shook his shoulder a little hard. “Luci, c’mon hon.” Nothing. You took your other hand and placed it on his other shoulder, shaking him even more. “Lucifer!,” you nearly screamed!

With that, Lucifer’s eyes shot open, pushing himself off the desk. “AAHHH!!! WHAT?!?! What’s going on?!,” he yelled. You never saw him so frazzled before, it was kind of cute. But what you really didn’t expect was to see Lucifer’s wings spring out from his back. It must have been an involuntary reaction from the shock of being woken up so suddenly. His eyes found yours and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, it’s you, darling,” he breathed. “You really scared me there! I guess I must have fallen asleep, forgive me.” You were only half listening to him at this moment, your gaze was still fixed on his angelic wings. You’d only seen them once or twice before, but never for long. It was then that Lucifer turned his head and noticed what had caught your attention. “Oh! Sorry about that, it’s a defense mechanism, as silly as that sounds. I’ll put them away-”

“No, wait!”, you shouted louder than you meant to. Lucifer cocked an eyebrow at you, not understanding why you had stopped him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…I never get to see your wings. They’re really beautiful.”

A light blush dashed across his face, he gave you a shy smile. “O-oh, thank you! I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”

“That’s a shame,” you pouted, “I think they’re incredible.” You walked closer to him to get a better look at them. Their white and red coloring were breathtaking. Their length took up almost the entirety of the room you were in, and his office was not small in the least. A tiny part of you wondered if he always had red feathers, or if they had changed after he…

Perhaps that was a question for another time.

“Are they heavy?,” you inquired.

“Oh! Umm, I don’t think so,” Lucifer pondered. “I don’t really notice if they are. I might have gotten used to them over the last 10,000 or so years.”

“Can I…touch them?,” you asked shyly, averting Lucifer’s gaze.

He smiled. “Of course, love. Let’s go back to our room, shall we?”

Lucifer’s wings disappeared for now as he gently grabbed your hand and led you out of his office. Once you reached your bedroom, he unfastened his shirt and threw it off to the side. It made you blush, even though his bare chest was not a new sight to you. Lucifer noticed your reddened face and smirked.

“It’s a little easier this way, don’t you think?,” he chuckled. He walked over to the bed and sat down, crossing his legs in the process. He tapped his thigh, offering you a seat in his lap. You smiled and wrapped your legs around his torso, straddling him. “You ready?,” he asked with a little smile. You nodded your head eagerly. In an instant, his three sets wings appeared again. You noticed something was a little different though.

“I could have sworn they were bigger,” you puzzled.

“No, you’re right, they were,” Lucifer laughed. “I can control how large or small they need to be. They might have broken something in here if they were any bigger!”

You chuckled lightly. They were even more breathtaking up close, his scarlet feathers glistened even in the dim lighting of the room. You stuck out your hands and touched the top of his first set of wings. Unexpectedly, Lucifer inhaled sharply from your touch, screwing his eyes shut. You pulled away instantly.

“Oh no!,” you gasped. “Did I hurt you? I swear I barely touched them! I’m sorry!”

Lucifer exhaled slowly and opened his eyes again. “No, no, it’s alright, love,” he cooed, “it wasn’t painful. I just didn’t expect the sensation. Let’s just say they’re…more sensitive than I originally thought.” It was only then you felt a bump forming between your legs.

Oh…OH!

You quickly caught on to what he was referring to. And having you straddle his lap probably wasn’t helping. A small smirk crept across your face. You couldn’t resist the urge to make him squirm from your touch; the thought excited you.

“Well, in that case…” you smiled slyly, reaching out for his wings once more. This time, you gave them a slightly firmer grip than before. Lucifer nearly yelped from your touch and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You ran your hands up and down the tops of his wings, almost massaging them in a way. Lucifer was unable to hold back his moans.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he panted.

You loved the sight of him bending so easily to your simple touches. You wondered if you could break him. You began to shift your hips in his lap, grinding on the now very apparent bulge in his pants. Lucifer nearly sobbed as you ground your hips against him. You moved your hands down to his second set of wings to give them some attention. You could tell he was unraveling quickly.

“D-Dear,” he choked out, “i-if you don’t stop, I’m g-gonna…f-fuck…”

His plea only made you grind against him at a faster pace while continuing to stroke his sensitive wings. At this point he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, only broken moans and gutural sounds left his lips. You moved your hands down to his smallest set of his wings, pinching them between your fingers.

“FuckfuckfuckFUCK,” Lucifer cried out as your movements finally pushed him over the edge. He bit down on your shoulder as he came, completely ruining in pants. Once he came down from his high, he looked into your eyes, almost distraught.

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “I-I didn’t think that…I didn’t mean to…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. His wings disappeared from sight as he buried his head into you chest

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you told him as you lifted his head up to plant a tender kiss to his lips. The small tears that had formed in his eyes fell down the side of his face, but you wiped them away with your thumbs. “Luci, please don’t apologize,” you soothed. “You never have to feel sorry for that! Did you feel good?”

Lucifer steadied his breathing, trying his best to calm down. “Yes, love, it was amazing. You’re amazing.” He lifted you off his lap and placed you on the mattress while he stood up, discarding the rest of his now filthy clothes. “But I absolutely refuse to be the only one being pleasured tonight.”

Without warning, Lucifer leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, filing your mouth with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, feeling as though you might be devoured by him. Lucifer tugged at the hem of your pajama pants, asking permission to remove them. “Mhmm,” was all you could mumble. In one swift motion, your pants had vanished and all you felt was the cool air on your legs. Lucifer brought down his fingers to your folds, loving the feeling of how wet you were for him. He captured your moan on his lips, but suddenly pulled his fingers away, leaving you to whine in protest.

Lucifer broke your kiss and brought his soaked finger to his lips, tasting your sweet nectar. “Mmm, you always taste so delectable, darling,” he marveled. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, he knew just what buttons to press when it came to you. He crawled back up on the bed and laid flat on his back, his head propped up by the pillows. “Come have a seat, sweetheart,” he teased as he pointed to his coy smiling face.

Your face became extreme hot as you crawled towards the demon king. You made your way on top of him and came to a halt when your dripping cunt hovered right above Lucifer’s eager smile.

“A meal fit for a king, truly,” he laughed as he dug his face into your aching pussy. You nearly screamed as his forked tongue worked his magic along your slit. He devoured you, making sure every inch of you was consumed. His lips found your clit and started to kiss and suck at it. He’d only just started and you were ready to snap.

“O-Oh my God, Lucifer, shhhiiittt, I’m so close…s-s-so close…,” you whined.

“God can’t hear you down here, angel,” he teased you before continuing to lap at your folds. He made quick work of you, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

“Fuuuuccckkkk, imcummingIMCUMMIMG,” you screamed as you finally felt your walls clench and spasm around nothing. Lucifer happily swallowed your juices as your orgasm started to recede. You tried to lift yourself up off Lucifer’s face, but he kept a firm grip on your legs.

“I’m not done with you, love,” he chuckled. With a snap of his fingers, golden shackles formed around your ankles, the chain hooked underneath Lucifer’s back. A twisted look of fear and passion flashed across your face. You were trapped.

“L-Luci…what are you-” you tried to asked but were cut off by another long lick up your sensitive cunt. A gutural moan escaped your mouth, you still hadn’t fully recovered from your orgasm.

“I thought it would only be fair to ruin you, since you ruined my clothes,” he chastised playfully. “But if at any time it becomes too much for you, tell me and I’ll let you go immediately, okay?”

“Al-Alright,” you stuttered, trembling from the anticipation.

Lucifer hummed against your lower lips. “I’ll make this a little easier for you, sweetheart.” You saw Lucifer’s form start to change beneath you. His horns had erupted from his head while his eyes shifted to a deep red and gold color with onyx irises. “Something for you to hold onto,” he murmured sensually.

Tentatively, you took hold of his horns and braced yourself for his next move. You didn’t have to wait long before you felt his tongue attacking your cunt once more. The grip you had on his horns could have torn your skin clean off with how tight you were holding them while he nipped and sucked your overstimulated clit. Before you knew it, your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first. Then your third, your fourth, your cunt was getting absolutely abused by Lucifer who hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down since he started. After your fifth orgasm washed over you, your legs had given out from under you, completely collapsing on top of Lucifer.

“No more…,” you begged. “No more, please…”

Lucifer snapped his fingers and the shackles around your ankles disappeared in an instant. You conjured up the remainder of your strength to push yourself off him and roll over onto your side, an absolutely breathless mess. You could hardly keep your eyes open. You could feel yourself losing consciousness until Lucifer pulled you flush to his chest.

“You did so well, my dear,” he murmured against your ear. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

“Sleep…” was all you could muster. Lucifer chuckled lightly, kissing your cheek ever so softly.

“Goodnight, love,” you heard him whisper as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. It was the best sleep you ever had.

~~~~

“I just think they’re neat!” - Me w/ Lucifer’s wings also Lucifer inventend pussy eating, this is fact, ALSO also something something handlebar horns

[violynt-skies]

the parallels of rottmnt.

-

-

the way rottmnt portrays the cycle of sacrifice and generational trauma through the concept of the hamato tradition is so beyond phenomenal it’s really hard to articulate with just words how hard it really hits. there’s so many parallels btwn splinter & his history/family than can be seen within raph & leo that can also almost be translated to f!leo & casey in some ways, not to mention the parallels btwn karai and leo as well.

the way splinter tried SO hard to break from that cycle, the way he saw how it effected his family and himself and didn’t want to put his family through it again yet it seemed to be inevitable regardless. he never wanted to have to choose btwn his family and the world and yet even when he made that choice in S1, in the end he still ended up losing a family member (karai) in exchange for time to save the world.

and even though he tried to break the chain so hard, the cycle of sacrifice was still adopted into raph and leo in different ways which was later passed down to donnie and mikey.

not to mention the future timeline where they ended up losing EVERYBODY and in the end of the movie casey is met with the same choice of the world over family just as many family members before him have.

the sacrificial bone and need to protect is just so ingrained into the entire family, to the point where the same events just seem to happen over and over no matter what is done.

the cycle of love and loss, protection and sacrifice, family vs the world. over and over.

[starry-mang0s]

I keep forgetting that I can just post old art…like I don’t have to leave it in the depths of my files.

Such a sad sad grass lad

[katsukistofu]

it took me by soap-rise

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ k. bakugo x fem reader. 4k words — fluff. cursing. slightly suggestive. ⭑ of course your public nuisance no. 1 has to hog your favorite shower stall the day you forget your body wash in it.

Katsuki was honestly starting to suspect he wasn’t your type. 

Which one, was something he’d never even bother to consider. He’s ripped up more confession letters than he can count after three years. Graduation was just around the corner and he still hates social media, but even he knows how popular he is on it because of his classmates whining about it all the damn time. He knows he’s well-liked, and it’s not just his ego talking.

Genuinely it's a thought that would never occur to him, if only Eyebags wasn’t lounging around you all the time, casting annoyingly cocky glances at him as he taps your shoulder and leans in to whisper whatever the fuck it is in your ear whenever he passes by the two of you.

Not that he cared. 

Two, when Dunce Face dared you to say who you thought was the most attractive guy during a game of truth or dare in the common room last year, while he pretended to be disinterested when he very much in fact was not, you had offhandedly answered with that half-n’-half bastard’s name, who could not be more polar opposite to him.

Again, he really couldn’t give less of a fuck. 

Not like he’s been thinking about it since then. Totally. Not.

Katsuki also hasn’t been thinking about how it should be him whispering in your ear instead of that purple haired extra, the endless list of things he could say to make you squirm and blush in your seat. 

Of course, that doesn’t happen because you’re too busy arguing with him, like usual, about the new group project Aizawa just assigned. Something about reconnecting with their roots before graduating. With you two as partners, much to the amusement of your classmates.

“We should work on the script first!” You insist while he leans back in his chair, observing you get more and more worked up.

It should be irritating as hell, your hand gestures, your matter of fact tone, but what’s really bothering him is that it’s not. He’s not sure when that started happening.

“It’s better to prepare the interview questions we’re going to ask our parents when we visit each other's homes.”

He snorts. “What are we, some ditzy news report crew? We’re not gonna waste time doing that, we should just visit your place first, then mine and get it over with.”

You spin away from him before he can open his mouth again, and raise your hand. 

Aizawa slowly turns to you with a sigh, already knowing what you’re about to ask.

“No.”

“But Mr. Aizawa!” 

Eyebags casts an amused glance in both of your directions, and Katsuki scoffs. 

No way in hell was he letting you switch and downgrade to an extra like him. 

“What, you’re chickening out?”

You ignore him. “Can I please switch partners?”

“No,” Aizawa deadpans.

“But—“

“No. One more word from either of you and you’re getting zeroes.”

The both of your mouths snap shut, and you glare at each other.

“When you’re a pro, you don’t always get to choose who you team up with.” 

Aizawa rubs his temples. 

“And you’re supposed to be my top ranking students. You’re not first years anymore, so act like it.”

You hang your head. Like a scolded puppy, Katsuki notes. 

“Yes Mr. Aizawa.”

From the corner of his eye, you flip him off under your desk and his lips can’t help but twitch. Does he really still piss you off that much after all this time? 

Without hesitation, Katsuki flips you off back.

‘Fucking teacher’s pet.’ He mouths with a smirk.

‘Asshole.’ You mouth back.

Aizawa sighs again, throwing a pointed look at Sero and Denki who are struggling, and failing, to hold back their giggles behind you. 

This was going to be a long week.

It’s the day after the group project was assigned, and you’re still reeling from the fact that out of everybody you had to get paired up with, of course it had to be your crush. 

Hey Siri, does it make you a masochist if for the past three years you've been in love with a guy that’s laser-focused on his personal development and has zero interest in dating anyone other than his career, ever? 

Are you a masochist if you kind of find that kind of hot?

Just when you were starting to make a pros and cons list with Mina the night before to try and ick yourself out, too. But even that was getting increasingly hard to do.

His growth was undeniable, and you curse at him for being almost as mature as he was attractive now.  

Well, towards everybody except you. 

Three steps away from the door to your room, you freeze in place as your brain stops your usual ramblings of the blond boy to register two alarming facts.

One, the bottle of body wash you usually use was not in your hand like you thought it was.

Two, it was in fact, still in the shower stall you left it in.

Pink house slippers slap against the floor’s carpeting as you race back to the showers with a death-like grip on your towel.

You’re slightly out of breath as you clutch the doorway of the showers, and just as quickly as you enter you find yourself exiting lightning fast at double the speed, nearly launching yourself against the wall of the hall outside. 

With your heart racing uncontrollably, tips of too familiar blond hair disappear into the stall you were in moments ago.

Too familiar, for your liking. 

But that strong jawline you caught a glimpse of was unmistakable.

Your irritating classmate slash crush you were trying to get rid of was taking up your shower stall.

Okay technically it wasn’t yours but it was the one you used everyday, each morning and night. You’d claimed it when you first stepped foot in it at the beginning of your first year. 

So basically, it was yours. 

And you definitely don’t remember that bastard ever using it until today.

A screech jolts you from your thoughts. He must have turned the water on, which you can hear, but strangely there was no steam wafting out at all. 

The realization creeps up on you like the sound of running water that trickles down and echoes throughout the room.

Hold on.

What was this idiot doing taking a cold shower at four in the morning?

The all too familiar soothing scent of cherry blossom fills the chilly air, and your eyebrows furrow even more in confusion. 

And was that your fucking body wash he’s using?

You take a deep breath. Okay, calm down. He’s bigger than you, probably stronger too, that stupid gym freak, not to mention taller than you. 

But your fingers were still itching to whip out your quirk and shoot a moonbeam at his crotch.

Because why the fuck was he using your L’Occitane Cherry Blossom Bath and Shower Gel?

Trying to sneak a glance to confirm your suspicions, the obvious shadow of Bakugo is visible through the glass, and you duck back into the hallway. 

Oh my god, it is him. 

Taking a cold shower in the morning like a crazy person. Although you hate to admit it, that would explain his perfect skin. Everyday you wake up and see his flawless face, you go to bed praying that he gets a blemish.

The shower turns off, and you let out the breath you were holding. Confrontation wasn’t your strong suit, but when it came to your possessions, you weren’t about to be a doormat. 

You cross your fingers and pray that he’s wearing clothes.

“Bakugo! Come out here, we need to talk.”

He snorts, already recognizing the chiding voice about to round the corner, and turns. “Picking a fight with me outside of class? Thought you had more self-respect than tha–”

Bakugo is then sharply cut off.

By you hurling into his very naked, very bare chest.

He forces his eyes to not linger on the dip of your collarbone, and as he looks down on you he sees you struggling to do the same in his direction.

You accidentally make contact with his eyes.

The rare, amused look on his face sends something strange and hot down your spine, and you force yourself to turn away so sharply you think you dislocated your neck.

Bakugo smirks. “Wasn’t nearly this focused when we were working on our project.” 

An embarrassing noise escapes from your mouth, and his lips curve ever so slightly on his handsome face at the sound. 

He’s never seen you this flustered before.

It’s kind of cute, he admits this time.

Despite your clearly humiliated state, you point an impressively steady finger at the object in his hands. 

“That’s um, that’s mine.” You awkwardly clutch your towel tighter, suddenly feeling very naked in his presence. Seriously, why didn’t you put a shirt on before coming back?

His eyebrow raises and he lifts the bottle slightly. “This?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh,” he says disbelievingly. “Don’t see your name on it.”

You sigh in exasperation, did he always have to be so uncooperative with you? “It’s mine, okay? Just give it back.”

Bakugo's eyes narrow as he studies you. Like you’re a puzzle piece he’s trying to make sense of.

And as much as you hate to admit it, the focused look on his face was annoyingly attractive. 

“That’s funny.” 

You open your mouth, your patience is on the last straw and you’re about to yell back ‘what is?’ and snatch the bottle out of his hands when he smirks, holding it high out of your reach above his head with his bicep, still gleaming with water from his shower. 

“Because this is mine.”

You blink at the water falls from his raised arm onto your nose, not registering what you’re hearing. Looking away from the pink translucent bottle above your head, your eyes meet his again.

“What?”

“You heard me the first time.”

You can’t help but stare at him incredulously.

“I don’t think I did.” Confusion could not be clearer than glass in your voice. 

“You—You use L’Occitane?”

He averts his eyes from the droplet that falls from your still wet hair and rolls down what skin you have exposed, disappearing into your thankfully tightly wrapped towel.

“Dude. You are so not cherry blossom bath and shower gel material.”

He snorts. “Fuck is that supposed to mean.”

“I don’t know! I thought you’d use like, Dove MenCare or five in one.”

“Five in one? Are you stupid?”

“Apparently! But—Oh my god can you stop flexing your biceps for one fucking second.” You groan. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”

“Why were you looking?” 

“I can’t help it! They’re distracting me and—“ You clap your hands over your mouth, glancing at his slightly amused expression with horrified eyes.

“Distracting you?” His voice is low, and you curse at the way your stomach flip-flops. 

“Um.” Fuck. Where did that even come from? “I meant, uh.”

“Trying to take it back now?” He smirks. “Coward.”

“I am not a coward!” You glare at him. “And I’m not feeding into your ego.”

“You just admitted you were staring at my biceps and thinking about what body wash I would use.”

Okay, so you’re just digging yourself a deeper grave. Your cheeks are warmer than the shower you took earlier, and you can’t even deny it.

“Creep.”

You huff. “Okay fine, I’m a creep. Just give me my body wash back.”

“Told you,” he starts walking away, towel still wrapped around his waist. You pointedly look away towards the wall. “It’s mine, dipshit.”

“Wha–” You whip your head around just as he disappears behind the corner, too tired and irritated to even chase after him, and with a sigh you walk into the shower room, heading for the stall you used earlier. 

Your eyes widen as you stare at it in embarrassment. 

There your bottle of cherry blossom body wash sits, untouched in the shower caddy. 

As you head back to your dorm room, the body wash safely clutched in your hand, you wonder.

Was it too late to call in sick for today?

Aizawa did not in fact let you call in sick, and you're painfully reminded of everything that happened in the morning as you complain to Hitoshi about it. Your best friend snickers as students file into the cafeteria behind his seat.  

“You’re so stupid.”

You take the opportunity to shove a sweet roll into his open mouth. “Shut up! I’m going to pretend like it never happened.”

Hitoshi snorts, taking the bread out of his mouth. “Good luck with that. But hey,” He leans in with a mischievous grin, and you glare daggers at him. “Isn’t this the most progress you’ve made since you started liking him since, what, first year entrance exams?”

Your jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

He takes his sweet time eating the roll in his hand instead of elaborating, like the petty asshole he's always been. Your fingers tap impatiently on the table of the cafeteria as you wait while he chews.

After what seems like an eternity, Hitoshi finally swallows. 

“I mean, you’ve never really made a move on him this whole time. Kind of just been a spectator, like a creep.”

Warmth rushes up your neck as you’re reminded of what Bakugo called you yesterday. Creep.

“I can’t help it! The only time we ever speak is during class projects, and even then we’re always arguing. I just don’t know what to say to him.”

“I know.” Hitoshi raises an eyebrow. “Woop woop. 3A’s own live little romcom.”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“Okay, but after I finish this soup.” He blows on his steaming spoon, and pauses as a thought occurs to him. 

”If he didn’t like it though, he would’ve told you by now.” 

You can’t help but perk up at that. “You really think so?”

“Yeah.” He spoons the soup into his mouth. “Oh. This is good, why didn’t you get any when we were in line?”

“...The red color reminded me of his eyes too much.”

Hitoshi sighs. 

“For your birthday, I’m going to admit you to a mental hospital.”

“It’s not that bad!” You insist and he snorts derisively. 

The both of you know you’re lying.

The ride to Katsuki’s house after class is awkwardly silent.

Your folks conveniently went out of town to visit some relatives you’ve never even heard of yesterday, so the both of you were left with no choice but to interview his parents only.

The train is almost full, and every seat in the car is taken except one.

“I’m standing.” 

Katsuki grabs onto the handle above his head, a silent signal for you to take the only seat left and watches with barely concealed amusement in his eyes as you hurry to sit in front of him without a word other than a small ‘thanks.’ So skittish today.

He’s not sure if he likes it though. You being quiet around him. 

You’ve said less than two sentences to him since this morning, and he almost misses your snappy quips.

Almost.

He hides a sly grin. It’s all his fault you’re acting like this, and he's going to enjoy it while it lasts.

You’re putting your earbuds on, and just before you put the left one in, he snatches it out of your hands and puts it in his ear.

Your eyes widen cutely, too stunned to speak.

"Just don't play anything shitty." He turns his attention back to his phone, ignoring all the smoochy faces the group chat's sent him about you as he sends his mom a quick text to tell her you two are on the way.

With a shy nod, which he can't help but note is so unlike you, you scroll down on your own phone and click on a playlist.

Katsuki's eyes widen in surprise not even five seconds in.

The instrumentals, those vocals. He knows this song.

He loves this song.

"You listen to Pierce the Veil?"

You blink up at him. "Yeah. I do."

He can't help it. The edge of his lips twitch as he recalls what you said to him yesterday, and he mimics your exact tone.

"Dude. You are so not post-hardcore alt rock material."

The expression on your face is priceless.

Katsuki never uses his damn phone camera but he almost wants to snap a picture right there and then.

Except of course, you do the unexpected.

You giggle at him.

He can't help but feel a little proud. Take that, stupid fucking Eyebags.

"I guess you're right," you laugh behind your hand. "Jirou recommended me some songs last year and I've been a fan ever since."

"Then what's your favorite lyric by them?"

"Oh my god." The grin on your lips spreads a warm, sweet feeling across his chest, like strawberry jam on hot toast. "You're one of those people that see someone wearing a band shirt and go 'Oh you like them? Name five of their songs.'"

He scoffs. "I do not."

"You totally do."

Katsuki rolls his eyes. "You trying to distract me from the fact you're a fake fan?"

You fake a little gasp. "Me? Never." There's a thoughtful hum that comes from your lips, and he observes you as you take a moment to think.

"My favorite lyric has to be 'been counting the stars and scars, how I’m becoming a work of art.'"

The Divine Zero. Fuck, he loved that song too.

"Huh. Guess you know your shit."

You huff proudly, so similar to a dog happily wagging its tail that he resists the urge to pat your head. "Of course! What's your favorite lyric?"

He smirks, staring directly into your eyes.

"I’m gonna tear out the thread one by one from your skin till your bones feel embarrassed by all the attention."

Your lips fall into a flustered 'o' shape and you turn away when he finishes, nodding. "That's, uh, that's a good one too."

He bites back a laugh as you hurriedly switch playlists, and a familiar R&B tune starts singing in his ear instead.

Mitsuki’s face greets the two of you as she opens the door.

“Katsuki! You're here early—oh!"

She spots you. 

“You’re one of those cute maid girls from last year’s cultural festival!" 

Your cheeks flush as you remember. That stupid day when Denki’s suggestion finally won the class vote. She was visiting for Bakugo’s role as an oni in the haunted house, and happened to stop by the maid cafe in the class where you and the rest of the girls were working. “Yes ma’am.”

“I didn’t know you were Katsuki’s girlfriend.”

“What?” Your mouth drops. “Oh, I’m not—“

“You brat! You never told me you were going out with a sweet, pretty girl like this.” Mitsuki scolds in her son’s direction. Your cheeks grow warm as your curious eyes can’t resist trailing over to see his reaction.

"She's not my girlfriend, Ma."

Oh my god, was he blushing?

Mitsuki sighs in disappointment. His crimson eyes meet your widened ones for a split second, then he's brushing past the both of you and heading inside the house.

His mother smiles at you apologetically. "Sorry about him, his puberty came late."

You can't help but snort. "It's okay Mrs. Bakugo, I'm used to it."

"I heard that!" A yell comes from down the stairs.

Mitsuki and you share a mischievous glance, and she ushers you inside. You take off your shoes and look around.

So this is where Bakugo grew up.

There's the smell of green tea in the air, and was that a vanilla candle burning somewhere? Framed photos of Bakugo with his parents are on the wall as you walk into the living room, and you can't help but coo at the one where his chubby baby cheeks are smeared in frosting while he blows out a candle shaped like the number three.

The interview flies by in a breeze. You do most of the asking.

Okay, you’re the one asking all of the interview questions. A warm mug of steaming green tea is placed next to you on the coffee table from your cross-legged position on a cushion.

Bakugo sits next to you, unnervingly silent ever since his mom's outburst from before, as he types up his mother’s and occasionally his father’s responses on his laptop.

It’s funny, the way you think he doesn’t notice your shivers.

"Ma." He glances up from the keyboard. "Do you need to turn the AC up so damn high all the time?"

Mitsuki rolls her eyes, taking a sip of her tea. "It's warm in here!"

He sighs, eyes flicking over to you, and starts getting up from his spot on the floor.

You stare at the hand he holds out to you. And with great interest, so do Masaru and Mitsuki, who mutters something to him that you better be her daughter-in-law within the next three years.

"Come on," Bakugo says gruffly, tugging you to stand.

You stumble a bit as you walk through the hallway with him and up the first few stairs. "Where are we going...?"

"My room. To get you a fucking jacket."

“No, I don’t need it—!” You're cut off with a sneeze.

He groans, and shrugs off the black fleece-lined one he's wearing and bringing you into him by tightly wrapping it around your shoulders.

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?” He grumbles. He's so close you can see how unfairly long his lashes are, and you're not sure if it's the sheer nervous adrenaline from him being so near or the scowl in his voice but you giggle, feeling bold.

“It’s sexy to see you prove me wrong.”

His eyes widen, and he quickly recovers.

“You’re so fucking weird.” There’s an unmistakable fondness you catch in his voice as he says that, and you shiver this time for a different reason. 

"Your jacket's too big on me." You flop your newly acquired sweater paws in his face.

“Shut up.” Bakugo snorts as he zips it up for you in one smooth motion. “Fucking baby.” 

“You're the baby!" You retort. "I saw your pictures on the wall."

There's a groan from him. "No you didn’t.”

"What, they're cute! I'm gonna send one to the class group chat."

Bakugo shoots a glare at you, and you teasingly wiggle your phone screen in his face. "Don't you dare."

"Hmm, okay I won't. Only if you do something for me first."

He smirks. "Fine, what do you want?" Bakugo leans closer to you, and your cheeks burn hot. "A kiss?"

You were not expecting that.

The way your eyes linger hopefully on his mouth looks like he's right. "Um."

"Um?" He huffs a laugh with his face hovering in front of yours. Bakugo's hot breath teases your lips, and you can't think.

Fuck it, you don't even care if he's just joking anymore. If this is your only chance, you're going to take it.

"Yes."

Bakugo cocks his head to the side, irritating to the very end even when you're on the brink of giving in. "Yes what?"

Your eyes squeeze shut as you blurt out, and you can almost hear Hitoshi cheering in the distance.

"YesIwantyoutokissme!"

"Fucking finally." Your eyes flutter open at his murmur, what did he mean by that? But you don't get to spend another second thinking about it because suddenly his soft lips are on yours and your heart skips a beat as you realize Bakugo is kissing you.

It's feels almost scarily natural to lean into his touch, like a gravitational pull getting stronger and stronger the longer you're near him, and you wonder why you didn't sooner. You numbly acknowledge the growing sweatiness of your palms as your nose bumps against his gently.

His comforting hands cup the back of your head, tangling his calloused fingers in your hair as he guides your mouth against his. A delicious little sound escapes from you the moment you break away from him and it only makes him want to close the gap between you again with more hunger, and he nips at your bottom lip like a starved man.

"Knew you always liked me, by the way." Bakugo gives you a wolfish grin, as the both of you pull back for air, leaving a trail of saliva still connected to your lips in your wake. He slyly glances at your dazed self sideways, flashing you a rare sight of his canines.

"Was just waiting for you to stop being such a damn pussy about it."

[tishawish]

i’ve been trying to get back into drawing so here's a lil promptis sketch page!

[abbyshands]

now did any of y’all know i was an editor too …

and brace your ears

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

pt. 2

you just saw your ex boyfriend, dick grayson, for the first time since he broke up with you.

you ran into him on the street.

no, like, literally ran into him.

you were walking your mom’s dog for her, a german shepherd she got when you moved out. she’d aptly named him trouble. despite his name, trouble was usually a mellow guy, even if he was huge. walking him was just another thing you were doing to try and ignore the thoughts constantly pounding out a beat in your head.

oh, dick would think this is funny! that’s dick’s favorite color, i should buy it! dick and i should go there on our next date!

and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on and-

anyways, you were definitely trying to keep yourself busy.

any time a memory popped up in your brain of him—

laughing at your jokes, holding you close while you fell asleep, kissing your neck while he thrust into you

—you’d empty the dishwasher, paint your nails, (any color but blue) turn on reality tv, read a book, stuff your face, whatever.

anything to stop fucking thinking about him and his stupid blue eyes and his dumb smile.

you’d been been watching the news, sprawled across the couch. just the regular gotham news: don’t use main street, mr. freeze’s ray iced out the pavement. the iceberg lounge had been raided by the police for the third time this month. the justice league defeated yet another extraterrestrial threat to humanity, blah, blah, blah. you weren’t really watching. the news program ended, and the next one started. a gotham gossip show. they were doing a special segment on the wayne family.

of course they fucking were. even your tv was conspiring against you. you had to resist the urge to chuck the remote at it.

you turned it off instead, heading to your room to get ready for a run.

(running for exercise or running from your thoughts?)

your mom had asked you to take trouble right before you’d walked out the door, and so you grabbed him and his leash and headed out. you’d forgotten the bags for his poop, but you didn’t think you would be out that long, so you just kept on going.

you were wearing the leggings dick had bought you, ones he joked should be a specific blue color. you hadn’t understood then, but you more than understood now. it was warmer, and so you just had on an old sports bra on top, and some converse.

you were not the athletic type. that was dick. probably still was. you wouldn’t really know.

you hadn’t talked since it happened, like three or four weeks ago.

time had become a little fuzzy. your mom said you could stay with her as long as you needed, but you were starting to get the itch to move out.

nothing against your mom, it’s just hard to sob really loudly into a pint of ice cream when she’s there.

and she keeps trying to wash the one shirt of dick’s you still have. you know, fully well, how dumb it is, (and a little gross) but you’re still wearing his shirt every night to bed. and maybe it’s all in your head, but it still smells like him. you aren’t ready to wash it. besides, now that you’re sleeping by yourself, you’re pretty sure it’s helping you fall asleep. something that was hard to do the first few nights without your big warm boyfriend next to you in bed.

it probably isn’t good for you, to keep wearing his shirt.

you’d had your hand between your thighs more than once late at night thinking about being enveloped in his scent. your nights were haunted with thoughts of his body over yours, his phantom voice in your ear. calling you angel, asking you if this was heaven, like the last time you’d had sex.

it definitely isn’t good for you.

but neither is life without dick grayson.

you try not to dwell on the fact that dick had given you a sort of non-reason for the breakup. sure, it got lonely sometimes, or you got anxious for your masked boyfriend, so you cried. so what if your patience wore thin after a few too many “i’m sorry, angel, i can’t make it this time”-s.

you were human!

but you’d never, never once complained about his absence or his commitments to his family.

never.

he’d just assumed you were silently suffering and it really irked you if you thought about it for too long. you still weren’t sure if you were mad at him or sad, or whatever. it felt like your brain couldn’t decide on an emotion so you just got twelve at once. but what you did know for sure was that he was 110% worth it to you. you just wish he’d realize that. see that. instead of just the times you were a little emotionally strung out. your ex boyfriend was too willing to sacrifice his own mental health for the sake of yours and you were sick of it. but you didn’t know if you had the courage to say that to him. or even see him, after the way this breakup had hit you.

your friends had managed to get you out of the house, a few times now.

you’d gotten almost too drunk every time, escaping your friends and going outside to get some air. this time, you saw a guy that looked just enough like dick, and it’d all been too much. so you got out of there. you sat yourself down on the curb, looking up at the hazy rooftops. you were always looking up. always.

and since the break up, you’d noticed the vigilantes of your city more often. maybe there was more criminal activity. maybe you were just paying more attention than you used to.

you’d seen spoiler and orphan, pounding the pavement behind you to run after some seedy looking guy holding a briefcase. you think spoiler tried to high five you on the way past, but there was no way. you wrote it off as your memory embellishing things.

you were pretty sure red hood had nodded at you before disappearing down a fire escape on the other side of the building.

your mom had recently gotten a delivery of security cameras for her house. but she hadn’t ordered them. the shipping address had only the address of some warehouse on the dock, the name just, ‘R.R.’ you’d set the cameras up, but you and your mom both were still baffled about it.

and here, sitting on the curb, you were staring at what looked like a dark figure crouched on the rooftop opposite. they’d been there when you’d entered the club, too.

you squinted, trying to make out shoulders and suit colors, when they stood up, and the light bounced off his shiny cowl.

fucking batman?

you shook your head, trying to shake your drunk brain like an etch-a-sketch. there was actually no way.

a smaller figure, one you hadn’t seen behind the shape of batman (!?) pulled a weapon, a gleaming silver sword, and pointed it at you. your head spun. batman (there was no way) shook his head at robin. he sheathed his sword, throwing his hands up in what looked like annoyance. you blinked, and they were gone.

you weren’t really sure if it had happened or not. you’d been trying not to think too hard about the fact that you still hadn’t seen nightwing. you’d really been trying.

so instead, you were walking your mom’s dog.

trouble had, in fact, pooped, and you were frantically looking around for something to pick it up with. gotham was already shitty enough without the addition of, well, literal shit. the streets were busy, but not crowded, and someone down the block whistled for a cab, catching your attention. you turned, and at the same time, trouble jerked your arm, pulling you backwards into someone walking on the sidewalk. the stranger made a choked sound.

“trouble??”

your heart stopped. you held your breath, turning around.

trouble was at attention, looking up at your ex-boyfriend with his head cocked.

dick’s eyes were wide. his hair shorter than you remember. he leaned down to scratch trouble behind the ears, his biceps and shoulder muscles in hard relief. are you dreaming? you didn’t recognize the shirt he had on, but he was wearing your favorite jeans of his, and his matching converse. your mouth felt like a desert.

trouble trails around the two of you, the leash long. he loves your ex-boyfriend, you know he won’t go anywhere.

“did you cut your hair?” you take a step forward. dick does too.

“i-” he clears his throat. “i did. do you like it?” he shifts his eyes, his cheeks bright pink.

you make a show of looking it over. he turns his head so you can see it from all angles. like he always did when he got a haircut.

your chest hurts.

you nod approvingly, flashing him a weak smile.

“it looks really nice. you’re very-” your face heats as you stop yourself. “it looks very handsome.”

that’s an understatement. you would’ve climbed him like a tree the minute he’d come home looking like that. the way his biceps were bulging out of his shirt sleeves could not be good for his circulation. it was great for yours, your heart was beating a mile a minute.

dick smiles down at you, stepping forward again.

“thanks.” he looks down, taking in your outfit. “nice leggings, ang-” he’s cut off when trouble spots a squirrel and darts, barking wildly. the problem is, trouble had been walking his leashed self around you and dick.

you’re now chest to chest with your ex boyfriend in the middle of a sidewalk, tied to him by rope. you vaguely hear trouble whine at the way his collar bit into his neck from the leash pulling taut. you didn’t even have the time to process the fact that he had almost called you angel. which was probably a good thing.

you’re breathing heavily, while dick doesn’t seem to be breathing at all.

he’s put his arms around you on instinct, and you hate the way you feel like you’re home. a shiver runs up your spine at the sudden closeness, and dick peers down at you through half-lids. your mouth dries up again. you suddenly feel indignant.

“you are not allowed to breakup with me and then show up and look at me like that!” you hiss at him.

you would throw up your hands in exasperation if they weren’t basically pinned to dick’s body. a smile breaks across his face, his bright blue eyes telling you everything you need to know. he stares at you, studying you. you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating.

“alfred taught me a new recipe.” he blurts, his hand clutching at your back.

he’s adorable. but you school your face and raise an eyebrow at him.

“..oookay?”

dick blushes, his face sheepish. “i could make it for you, if you wanted.”

“what i want is an apology.” you look him up and down.

your ex boyfriend grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut. “understandable.”

“on your hands and knees. i think this is one of those begging-for-my-forgiveness type situations, don’t you think?”

dick nods, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. his eyes flash.

“you don’t have to worry about getting me on my knees.”

one heartbeat pounds behind your ribs, the other one between your legs. you huff out a weird sort of nervous laugh.

“oh, i’m not joking.” his lips curve up in a smile, one you know very well. he obviously plans to make up on lost time.

you forgot how charming he was. you have to practically force yourself to breathe. you’d do anything to have the real thing over his old t-shirt. you give yourself a mental shake.

he can flirt all he wants, but what about your heart? you look up at him, and his face softens, his pupils huge.

“can you get us untangled?”

dick nods, whistling for trouble. he frees an arm and grabs trouble’s collar, guiding him back around so the leash falls to the sidewalk. you step back, taking a deep breath. you’re cold at the sudden loss of his body heat. it’s a harsh reminder of reality. you grab trouble’s leash, having him sit. you look at your ex boyfriend.

“thanks.” you take another deep breath. “can you promise me something, though?”

he nods, his face serious. “anything. anything at all.”

“promise you won’t break my heart again?” you hold out your pinky finger.

dick coughs, surprised at your words. he looks down, taking a shaky breath. he’s in disbelief, he’s ecstatic, he’s on top of the world, he…has a lot of apologizing to do.

when he looks back up to offer up his own pinky, his eyes are shining. the sight makes your heart melt. you take his finger in yours, beaming up at him.

he gives you a soft smile in return. “i promise.”

you take your hand back, feeling the most hopeful you have in a month.

a breeze picks up, and the whiff you get reminds you of your earlier predicament. you look down. dick looks down too.

shit. literally.

you forgot about the fact that trouble had used the sidewalk as a toilet.

“is that trouble’s?” he asks.

you nod, making a face. “i forgot the poop bags.”

“rookie mistake.” dick shakes his head, smiling. you look him up and down, and then turn, walking back the way you came.

“text me about that recipe!” you lift your hand in a wave.

“but-..uh, the shit?” he calls after you.

“that’s alllll you, baby!” you yell back, practically skipping away. you feel like you’re floating.

[strangely-written-desires]

CW: Non-Con/Dub-Con

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI

You get one on pure impulse. The lure of it was tempting indeed, yours with one simple click of a button, and this one’s on a discount. How could you resist?

Slimes began trending just recently, with videos popping up on your page raving about how loveable they are, how they don’t require much, and how they are perfect pets if you’re away a lot.

Life has been stressful, and incredibly lonely, and this seemed like the perfect thing to help you get through it; it would be nice to have something to take care of, to look after. So you bought one.

It arrived quickly—one-day delivery is truly something—and in pristine condition. The packaging was odd—a single metal cylinder in such a big box—but you supposed that slimes could handle it; they’re resilient monsters, after all.

The cylinder is fancy—a smootn cream color, practically futuristic—and it has instructions on how to care for it. These include what to feed it (practically everything; rat poison is not recommended), how to play with it, and what to do if it starts to feel ill (very unlikely). You hum as you read it, pausing once you get to the red lettering.

‘Do not kiss or bite—’ Who’s biting these things? ‘—Human saliva contains bacteria harmful to slimes; if it ingests any bodily fluids, immediately keep your distance from it and call this number. XXX-XXX-XXX’

You furrow your brows at this, finding it odd, to say the least. Slimes are known to have the ability to eat anything, any poison having little to no effect on them; they’re virtually indestructible. But human saliva is what does it? You shrug, figuring that perhaps domesticated slimes are different—weaker, more prone to harm.

You open it, and the side of the container slides open with a hiss. It’s not long before it begins to spill out, latching onto your fingers before sliding onto your hand—cool and smooth to the touch.

You marvel at the sight of it, in awe, as it continues to climb up your arm, studying the feel of your skin and your scent. Its touch ticklish; you laugh at the feeling. It practically purrs at that, pleased as it tries to inch its way toward the source of the sound.

“Woah, woah, getting a little too close there, bud,” you comment, gently removing it from you, the warning still fresh in your mind, “wouldn’t want you to get hurt on your first day.”

You set it down on the ground, stepping back when it attempts to climb you once more. “How ‘bout you explore the place instead? It’s your home now, too, you know.”

It pauses its movements as if understanding you (you wouldn’t be surprised if it does; slimes are quite intelligent, or so you hear) before seemingly looking around the place—you can’t really tell because it has no face, no eyes to gaze upon. You leave it to its own devices, wanting it to adjust to your home and not crowd it too much.

Yet everywhere you go, it follows, never straying and always attempting to climb you. You eventually relent, letting it stick to your shoulder as you go about your day. It’s awfully clingy, not that you mind, but the reviews never said anything about that.

Slimes usually come in many different colors, but domesticated ones are vastly limited; those ones come in green (the classic), blue, and purple, but yours is different. It’s an unusual hot pink. A pretty color, but not common, not at all. Maybe that’s why it was on sale.

It feeds on anything, enjoying everything you give it. You’re sure if you gave it trash, it would munch on it happily—not that you’d ever do such a thing; your slime only eats the best of the best, the best of the best being whatever you eat. However, over the course of several days, you’ve found out its odd need to try and consume everything you put in your mouth.

Your toothbrush? Cups you’ve drunk from? Utensils you’ve used? You’ve had to bat it away, wrestle it off the counter, and keep it from devouring your discarded trash. You’ve even caught it trying to go through your dirty laundry.

Whatever reviews that said it was low maintenance and barely had any problems are fucking liars. Not that you would ever send it away; you adore it and its little odd quirks.

You specifically bought a slime-proof cage for when you have to step out and are unable to keep it devouring everything you touch. The container it came in would’ve done just fine, but you wanted it to have some space to move around in—to not feel contained and trapped in one tight place. You never thought it could escape; after all, it is “slime-proof,” specifically designed to keep it in place.

Those stressful days never do vanish, but its presence makes it better. Bearable. And you don’t feel lonely anymore. Instead, your days are filled with a sort of warmth that hadn’t been there before.

You're grateful for that.

Although, on particularly stressful days, you turn to more primitive ways of relief and relaxation.

Today’s one of those days.

And it’s on one of those days that you don’t hear it slipping out of its cage in the other room—glass broken and shattered, scattered across the floor. You don’t hear how it slithers to your bedroom, desperate to taste your arousal in the air. It slides under the crack of your door, basically speeding to get to where you are as you chase yourself to the edge—try and fail.

Your vibrator’s dead, and your fingers aren’t doing the job; they are too short to hit that gooey spot just right to make you shake with pleasure. Your frustration builds as you pump them in faster, swirling your clit in a desperate attempt to push you over.

You jolt when the slime creeps onto your leg, your orgasm falling flat. Your lip quivers, eyes blurring from the frustration of another failed attempt. Shock and anger burst through you, bewildered at how it escaped its cage.

“How did you even— What are you…stop it, get off,” you hissed, moving to pull it off your leg.

But your hand goes right through the slime; it doesn’t stop, continuing its ascent up your thigh. You panic, foolishly using the hand, still slick with your need, to move it. It pauses, your fingers tingle as it slurps up what’s left on it. You try to take back your hand, but it latches on, keeping it in place.

“Let go—”

Dread fills your chest, waiting for something to happen, but nothing does; if anything, it looks bigger. Once it's had a taste, you can feel it shiver for more. It unlatches, fingers thoroughly cleaned from your arousal.

You see small parts of itself reaching for your wet cunt, little tendrils reaching to taste the juices dripping from it. You try to bat it away, get it off you, but it doesn’t budge.

“Wait, don’t. Don’t—”

It’s too quick for you to stop it, soaking up the juices beneath you before moving onto your cunt. It’s eager, pushing itself into you with a forceful thrust; a choked gasp escapes your throat.

It buries itself in you, drowning itself in your slick just to taste it—devour it. Its want for more is almost monstrous; you feel it slowly growing inside you. It starts to move, doesn’t give you time to adjust, to process, before plunging deeper and deeper into you.

It has you writhing on your bed, gripping the sheets to have some sort of anchor. It retracts before diving back in.

You cry out, pleasure wracking you with each thrust, hitting that spot over and over again. You frantically rub your puffy clit, trying to reach that high that’ll have you falling over the ledge.

You should probably stop to think about how you currently are getting fucked by a slime—your supposed pet slime—but after multiple failed orgasms, you don’t think to care at the moment.

You feel it expanding, stretching you open with no remorse. Besides, you can’t stop it; it feels too good to stop, not that you could even if you wanted; it seems in no rush to slow down.

It’s not long before you fall over, toes curling, back arching as your eyes roll back. It fucks you through it, drinking up your cum like its last meal, leaving you panting and spent. Yet it doesn’t stop; it continues, despite how overstimulated you are. It makes you cum three more times before it decides it has its fill for the day.

It continues this routine everyday, there’s a day where your cunt isn’t stuffed full of it, milking you for all your worth. It doesn’t consume any food, deciding your cum’s enough to satiate its hunger.

You can’t tell if your decision to get a slime was a good one or not.

[ravenxbones]

guns, guns, guns, huh? war, war…war…🪰

[1driedpersimmon]

.

Together as… One!

[calumfmu]

arms of a careful lover

You didn't know how he was, the stranger driving you home. He knew you, knew all about your life, and his picture-perfect ideal of you. As you traveled through the town of Hawkins, you couldn't help, but ask yourself 'Who The Fuck is Eddie Munson'?

cw: smut, sexual tension, riding, oral, AFAB reader, fem!reader, p in v sex, cursing, etc. 4.9k+ words.

The music in the dark bar room was overpowering, filling your senses, tingling in the back of your mind. It was hot—sticky, your clothes not sparing you the freedom of movement as your leather dress felt glued to your skin. You had lost your friend at one point, hearing something about ‘another drink’ about half an hour ago.

Searching for her in the dark red lighting was impossible, faces blending together as the alcohol seeped into their bloodstream. Your back hit firm muscle, two ringed hands coming up to stop you from tumbling onto the wet floor.

Turning around, you were met with the deepest shade of brown you could think of, long lashes encasing them. His hair was long, curly and full, bangs sticking to his forehead with the dampness of the air.

“You alright?” The stranger shouted over the music, the dull thud of the bass banging in your chest. You nodded dumbly, a ghost of a smile on your face as you stood in front of him.

A look similar to your own crept up on his face, smile lines forming on his cheeks as he blinked down at you.

“I’m such a dunce sometimes,” you laughed, voice raised as you leaned into him. Strong cologne hit you, a faint hint of marijuana seeping out of his clothes. “Sorry, man.”

The man shook with a silent laugh, his head swaying side to side as he excused you. “You’re fine, don’t worry about it.”

He moved to leave, hands leaving your shoulders as he stepped to your side. Disappointment tugged at your emotions, teeth gritting as you watched him walk away from you. You called after him, a shouted ‘wait!’ getting lost in the crowd as you watched him disappear into throes of people. His scent lingered in the air, the smell of strong aftershave the only memory you have of him.

Seemingly dumbfounded you stood there for a second, lip jutted out as you searched for sight of him again, standing on your toes as you looked through the crowds. He was long gone by now, a stranger in the darkness as you gave up, sigh escaping you.

Making your way to the front of the building, you stepped outside, feeling the cool air hit your body. A bouncer was out front, arms clasped in front of him as he stared in front of him, unfocused on anything in particular.

“Got a pay phone?” You asked, following the direction in which he pointed. A few feet away, it stood. Picking it up, you pressed it to your ear, silence meeting you as there was no dial tone. Finger hitting the switch, you grew frustrated, realizing the phone wasn’t in working order.

Storming back over to the bouncer, you pointed a finger at him.

“Why would you not tell me it doesn’t work?”

He shrugged, choosing not to look at you as his gaze remained hard. As you took a step towards the building, his hand shot out to stop you, opposite hand pointing at a huge sign to his left.

‘NO RE-ENTRY’, the sign read, in bold, red letters. Closing your eyes in frustration, you silently cursed him. You walked away, hand dipping into your purse as you searched for cash, hopes of getting a cab sitting in your chest. That feeling disappeared as you realized your wallet had been snagged at a point in the night, your fingers coming up empty.

Leaning against the side of the building, your leg was kicked up to support you, heeled boot digging into the chipped brick. Your arms were crossed in front of you, palms rubbing over your arms to warm yourself up.

A few people piled out of the bar, the hour ticking closer and closer to closing time. Thirty minutes had to have passed, no sight of your friend amongst the people leaving. As you watched the group of strangers, the same boy from before—the pretty one—walked in front of you, hair flowing behind him as he tossed a pair of keys into the air.

“Hey!” You shouted, kicking off of the wall to jog up to him. He turned, confused as the click of your boots hit the asphalt. You waved a hand at him, the sting of the cold air reddening your cheeks.

He looked at you in anticipation, face turned up in confusion as you stopped in front of him, weight shifting from side to side.

“You think you could spare me a ride?” You asked, feeling bold in front of this stranger. He looked at you up and down, then sent a quick glance around himself.

“Are you talking to me?” His voice was deep, deeper than you expected.

Laughing, you nodded, pointing to his keys. He glanced at them, gaze lingering as confusion was still evident on his face.

“My friend ditched me, and my mom’s going to kill me if I’m not back before her night shift ends,” you said, beginning to shake as the cold air hit your exposed skin. The leather mini dress you were sold on earlier didn’t seem like a good idea at the moment. “So… please?”

He stayed silent, eyes studying you as you looked around, watching people move around the parking lot. It was growing windy at this point, fallen leaves stirring on the ground. People began to make haste, rushing into cars as the weather worsened.

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, voice quick as he took a step back from you. Your heart sank, rejection souring your taste. “Sorry, man.”

He pressed his lips together in an apology to you, turning around quickly as he began to walk away. His converse scuffed at the ground, hands dipping his pockets as he made it a few feet in front of you.

Watching him walk away made your heart ache, your escape plan from this desolate area getting further away. You didn’t know what you were going to do at this point, money lost, not a single phone in sight. Walking wasn't an option, the buildings of the inner city miles away from you.

As you began to turn away, the man’s pace slowed, feet coming to a halt as his back was turned to you. Head cocking to the side, you stood confused, watching as his head tilted up to look at the night sky. You heard him mumble something from the few feet away, foot stomping underneath him before he turned back around, eyes making contact with yours.

His gaze was sincere as you waited for him to say something, his fingers curling at his sides as he looked full of nerves.

“I live on Millrose,” you shouted to him, seeing his teeth begin to chew at his bottom lip. Nodding, he sighed, hand beckoning you closer.

You followed his instruction, smug smile crossing your face as you approached him.

“Just promise not to kill me?” He said as the two of you began to walk towards a van. You laughed, quickly glancing at him as you took sight of the dark vehicle.

“You seem to be projecting.”

Snorting out a laugh, his key unlocked the passenger door, his hand coming out to swing it open for you. With the door open, you turned towards him, looking up at him as his height towered over yours.

“I mean, look at me,” You said, hand resting on your hip. “I don’t think I’d do much damage.”

He seemed nervous in the moment, eyes moving quickly as they flitted over your body. His eyelids fluttered rapidly as he gulped slightly, fingers tapping against the open door.

You raised an eyebrow at him as you slid into the seat, heart beating faster as the door closed behind you.

He drove fast. Metallica blasting over the stereo as his fingers drummed against the steering wheel. You gripped the safety handle, hand pressed to the dash as he maneuvered the streets of Hawkins. A prayer sat on the edge on your lips, curses instead flowing out whenever he took too sharp a turn.

“What brings you out here?” He said over the music, hand shooting out to lower it. You briefly glanced at him, heart lunging as he slammed the brake at a stop sign.

“The band,” you began, tugging at your seatbelt to make sure it was secured. “It was the last show I heard they’re playing in Indiana, and I missed the one last year.”

He threw a face at you, mouth wide open. “The band?”

You matched his expression, growing self conscious at his question. “What about it?”

“I dunno if I believe you,” he scoffed, head shaking. “I’ve never heard of a girl like you into heavy metal, its, like, impossible, man.”

It was your turn to laugh, a small gasp coming up as he sped up to run a yellow light. His words confused you, the ‘like you’ lingering in your mind. He barely made it, red flashing briefly as he crossed the intersection.

“Hate to break it you, but…” Your voice dropped to a low whisper, leaning into him as you raised your hand, fingers wiggling in the air as if you were casting a spell. “We exist.”

A blush crossed his face, cheeks filling as his eyes squinted up.

“Okay, okay… don’t make me sound like a total jerk here.”

“You did it to yourself. I’m just saying.” Your tone was light as you teased him, enjoying the way his face lit up at your jokes.

He was quiet for a moment, car rolling to a stop as a red light ticked in the dark. No cars passed by, the only sign of life being a street sweeping crew, cleaning an area of the downtown side walk in the late hours. You chose to relax in that moment, sinking into the soft cushion of the seat.

“If you’re into the same things as me, how come you’ve never said hi?” His voice was almost inaudible. Glancing at him, his eyes were fixated on the red light, waiting for it to change. That same light look was on his face still, eyebrows slightly raised as humour grazed his features. You waited for the punchline to drop, this stranger in front of you urging nothing out of you.

“What d’you mean?”

“At school,” he said, making eye contact with you as you stared into his eyes. You furrowed your brow, trying to recognize him.

“You go to Hawkins?” You don’t remember ever seeing him, memory sifting through faces you see on a daily basis. Nothing rings a bell, not a single recollection of ever seeing the boy before.

He laughed at you, turning back to the road as he pressed the gas. The van sputtered as it accelerated, gravel crushing as he continued through downtown.

“We have, like, three classes together, Yn,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief as your mouth dropped open. Heat began to colour your cheeks. “You’re friends with Carol, Tommy H. Hawkins royalty, man.”

His voice dropped to a mocking tone as he relayed the names, continuing his speech, “I’m just surprised you’d even be caught dead at something like this.”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to think of what to say. Swallowing around nothing, you turned your body towards the dash.

“Let alone caught with me. Imagine what the school would say… what the town would say,” his hand rose to move in front of him, as if he was reading a line from a newspaper. “Resident sweetheart led to murder van of town freak, Eddie Munson. Read more, page six.”

You let out a giggle, his own laughter in harmony with your own.

“Oh shut up, that would never happen.” You didn’t acknowledge the fact that there was a bit of truth in what he said, your popularity did threaten to be shattered if anyone even knew you enjoyed the metal sound of music.

A look was shot your way, his eyes rolling at your words.

“You know it’s the truth,” he said, turning onto a main road. “Such a shame, we never got to hang out. If I knew you were cool, maybe my idea of you would’ve changed earlier.”

Your eyes ran over him, watching the way his curly hair sat over his shoulders, a thick mane that accentuated his manly features. You imagined what it might have been like to know him on a different level, to have met him under different circumstances. His words had you thinking, wondering what idea of you remained in his mind.

“Hey… you said Millrose, right? We should be 10 minutes out,” he threw at you, looking for confirmation.

A beat passed, you slow blinking at him as you failed to nod.

“Yn?”

Clearing your throat, your heart began to race as you spoke your next words, “We could hang out now at your place.”

The vehicle swerved slightly to the right, an over correction that had you slamming into the door. Hissing, you pushed against it, seeing the way Eddie whipped his head to you.

“Huh?” His voice was tight, a slightly higher pitch.

You blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I know it’s almost 2 am, but I don’t have to be home for a few more hours,” you said, voice small as you anticipated his rejection. You didn’t know why you felt nervous, asking out boys was your thing. “We could make up for lost time.”

He didn’t know what to say for a moment, face contorting as he processed your suggestion. You couldn’t help but know that your words had a different meaning, the late hours of the night not welcoming just a friendly conversation.

“You.” He pointed a ringed finger to you, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Want to come to my place.” The finger turned on himself, digging into the white of his shirt. His question turned into a statement, disbelief evident.

“I have, like, 6 siblings,” you laughed, shaking that idea out of your mind. “There’s no way you’re coming to mine.”

“You want to come to my place?” He repeated his question, voice higher as he drove. Glancing at the streets, you knew the direction had changed, him driving towards his own place before his mind could even catch up.

“Eddie, if you say that one more time-” Your laughter kicked up as he punched the gas, speeding down the dark streets of Hawkins. He seemed to have caught up now, words getting lost in his throat.

Before you knew it, a trailer lot appeared in the distance, homes scattered in various places, clotheslines hanging between them. You had never been in this part of town before, your ignorance not allowing you to realize that people did have vacancies here.

Eddie saw your wandering gaze, rolling to a stop in front of his place. Nervous in his own rite, he reached up to twist a curl between his fingers.

“Well, it’s not the Four Seasons, but my uncle’s out,” he said, glancing at anything but you. You smiled at his anxiousness, finding it endearing.

“I don’t care about that kind of stuff, Eddie.”

He scoffed at your words, eyes rolling with humour as he jumped out of the van. You followed his lead, stumbling slightly as the gravel crunched under your boots. Following him up to the door, you noticed the way he fumbled with his keys, having to try two, three times to get it unlocked.

It was spacious inside, dark furniture and fishing hats littering the walls. You could tell it was a man cave, the sign of a woman missing for years. Walking over to a framed picture on a side table, you ran your fingers over it, Eddie standing in front of tree with a serious look, head cocked to the side with a black DIO shirt on.

His throat cleared behind you, Eddie scratching at the back of his head as he tried to subtly kick a discarded shirt underneath a desk, out of your vision.

“You want something? Uh, water? Alcohol, weed, anything?” He scrambled towards the kitchen area, fridge thrown open as he rifled through the contents. Glasses clinked together, something falling as he cursed.

Taking a seat on the couch, you shook your head. “I don’t do any of that.”

His head popped up over the counter separating you, eyebrows disappearing behind his bangs. The fridge swung shut behind him as he looked around, slowly making his way over to you.

He stood in front of you, your heart racing as you looked at him through long lashes. The angle had you appreciating his beauty, cut short as he moved to sit.

“But… you’re friends with…”

“Doesn’t mean shit. It’s not my thing,” you shrugged, placing both hands on your knees. He nodded, an awkward silence settling on you two.

A small smile crossed your face, the awkward air lingering heavy on you two. Eddie whistled, sighing periodically as you glanced around the place, hands tapping on your exposed legs. You didn’t know how much time had passed, Eddie settling his back against the couch as you sat upright.

“What did you think of me?”

“Why did you want to come here?”

You and Eddie spoke at the same time, your words becoming jumbled over each other as you shared a deep shade of red of your cheeks. Making eye contact, he let out a chuckle, hand motioning to you. You pressed the back of your hand to your mouth, laughing silently at the situation.

“You first.”

The words were shared again, both of your voices intertwining. Eddie jokingly rolled his eyes, leaning closer to you as he lowered his voice. You noticed his lips were bright red, becoming wet as his tongue darted out briefly.

“Okay, now this is getting weird.” He stretched his legs in front of him, foot bumping against yours before you snatched it back, heart racing at the contact. He raised an eyebrow, glancing down at your leg.

“You first,” you answered, trying to cover it up as you cleared your throat. You turned your body towards him, leg tucked underneath you as one elbow was propped up on the back of the couch. “I’m the guest.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he tried, but failed miserably at trying not to stare at you. His deep eyes running over your exposed collarbones.

“I wanted to come here because I want to get to know you. You seem… cool.” Your own words failed at your attempt to remain normal, noticing the way his chest hitched slowly when you outstretched your hand, fingers running over the small stretch of the couch between you.

“Just cool?” Glancing down at his mouth once again, you turned to look away as he noticed the movement. He seemed more nervous after the gesture, repeating the motion of his tongue over his lip. His head cocked even further, legs widening as he settled further into the couch.

You nodded, mind blanking as you looked at him. Subconsciously, you scooted closer to him, the tension between the two of you thickening. His head leaned back against the couch, the expanse of his neck looking enticing in the moment.

"And what did you think of me?" You asked, curious at his statement earlier. 'My idea of you would've changed' kept repeating in your head, not sure whether or not you should feel offended or not by it. It's not like you should care anyways, this man did not exist to you a couple of hours ago, but you did. You had wished you met this man earlier, your temptation to have him pulling at your core.

"I thought..." His voice trailed off, kicking up at the end of the word as your hand brushed his thigh. Glancing down quickly, you repeated the motion, manicured hand coming up to tug at one of his belt loops. You felt bold, nerves leaving you as you realized he may have wanted this too. Whatever this was.

"What did you think?" You asked again, eyes trained on the jean material beneath your finger tips. You dipped a finger in his pocket, tugging on it as his hips shifted beneath your touch. A bulge was becoming present, material growing tighter. A blush covered your cheeks, nerves returning again as you refused to make eye contact.

"That, uh..." He cleared his throat, bringing a finger to his mouth to sink his teeth into. The hand smacked into his thigh, chocked, sharp inhale being taken. "Thought you were a good girl, you know? Miss, uh, goody two-shoes."

You laughed at his words, hand grazing quickly over his bulge. He took an even sharper inhale, mouth dropping open in a silent gasp. Looking up at him through your lashes, you smirked.

"You still think that, Eddie?" Your voice was a whisper, cutting through the air as he made eye contact with you. His tongue poked at the corner of his mouth, running over his teeth as he gave a quick shake of his head.

A beat passed between the two of you, Eddie's hungry stare bore into your own, your hand still on his thigh. You opened your mouth to speak, teeth bumping into your bottom lip as you stumbled over the words to say.

Eddie lunged at you, hands coming up to rest on your cheeks as you moaned, sitting up on your knees to get better access. It was a clash of teeth and tongue, messy as you climbed over him, swinging a leg over his lap. Moving with a fervor, he licked into your mouth, giant hands cupping your jaw, your hands running over his chest as you pulled at the vest he wore. Wrapping an arm around you, he didn't pull from the kiss as he sat up, allowing you to yank the material off of his body.

You grinded against him, leather mini dress pushed up to your hips as the thick jean material ground into you. Eddie groaned, pulling away slightly to reach down to unbutton his jeans.

His fingers fumbled as he struggled, pressing chaste kisses to your lips. You tugged at his hair, licking up the breathy moans he let out at each pull.

"You ever done something like this before, Eddie?" You breathed against his mouth, pulling up your dress as the button popped loose. His hands paused as his eyes shot open to look at you, panting, heavy out of breath.

He nodded, leaning back into the couch as you pressed a hand to his chest. Raising, he went to kiss you again, only to be pushed down as you gyrated your hips over his.

He whined at the touch, curses flowing from his lips as he placed his hands on your hips, guiding the motion. A wave of heat was sent to your core, wetness dampening the thin material of your underwear.

He nodded at your question, hair shaking in all different directions as you bounced slightly, enjoying the way he fit perfectly in the dip of your pussy.

"Yea-yeah, I have," he said, and you weren't sure if he was lying. Smirking, you raised to your knees, lifting your bum to pull his pants down his hips. He followed your movement, hips raising as the material slid down his thighs. Stopping mid-thigh, you pulled his boxers down, mouth watering at the sight of his cock, swollen and red at the head, dripping in anticipation.

"You want to show me?" You asked, getting off of him to kneel in front. You placed both hands on his thighs, mouth opening to drool against him. Eddie moaned at the feeling, hand coming up to grip at your hair. "Since I'm such a good girl and all?"

"You're such a fuckin-" He began to say before lacing his fingers behind your head, urging your mouth on his cock. You tried laughing around it, mouth full as he pushed you down. Closing your eyes, you choked on him, feeling him hit the back of your throat.

Fucking into your mouth, he let out chocked gasps, head being thrown back as his hands guided your mouth. The pace was too quick, wetness dripping down your chin, onto his balls, the entire ordeal becoming more and more messy. Your eyes rolled back, loving the way he was using you, squelching of his cock in your mouth filling the air.

"Fuck," he moaned, hips pumping up to meet the guidance of his hands half way. You flattened your tongue, gagging loudly as he shoved all the way in. "If anyone could see you right now."

You moaned louder, hand leaving his thigh as you reached down between your legs. You were dripping wet, underwear soaked as he fucked your mouth. Rubbing small circles against your clit, you couldn't help but begin to thrust your own hips against your hand.

"You're so- ah, shit, your mouth feels so g- so fucking good," he moaned, thrusts becoming more rapid. Your fingers against your own clit sped up to match his pace, white hot pleasure filling your body with warmth.

"I'm gonna-" He whined, pulling you off of him with a yank of your hair. Your mouth was half open in a smirk, saliva dripping off of your chin as you looked up to him. His gaze grew dark, eyes rolling in pleasure as he pulled you up to him.

His cock pressed against his abdomen, angry red at the ruined orgasm.

"I need you to cum inside me," you whispered, crawling up to him as you settled in his lap once again. His hands found your hips, your underwear pushed to the side as you hovered over him.

Cock nudging inside you, the two of you mewled at the feeling, you stretched wide with a burn, him encased in the warmness of your cunt. You sank onto him, firmly seated in his lap, his hands rubbing small circles onto your lower back.

His shirt was still on, white tee pushed up to his chest as he sank lower on the couch. You adjusted to the feeling of him, pressing your lips to his as he squeezed his eyes shut in pleasure.

"I can't- I have to move- I'm gonna-" His words didn't make sense, coming out jumbled as you began to ride him, hips moving up and down on his cock as pants escaped his lips. The head of his cock nudged deep against that sensitive spongy spot, your moans becoming louder.

With your head thrown back in ecstasy, you couldn't help, but lean in towards that white hot feeling lingering in your abdomen. Eddie began to thrust underneath you, meeting you halfway as you became more cock drunk.

"You're so perfect, fuck, you're so perfect, so perfect," he muttered praises under his breath, eyebrows knitted together as he picked up his pace. The sound of slapping skin dominated in the room, grunts and your high pitched moans following close behind.

"Eddie," you drawled out his name, the last thrust sending you over the edge, your orgasm shaking your legs as he fucked you through it. You seated yourself on him, hands pressed to his chest as you hunched over, head pressed into the white cotton, hips moving on their own as he stuttered his hips.

His own orgasm followed short, a low moan that he breathed into your hair, your name on his lips. Catching your breath, you whimpered at the feeling of him sinking even further into you, jumping up at your cervix being pressed.

"Here, I'm sorry, here," he spoke in small phrases as he lifted you off of him, moving in one motion to pull his boxers up and lay you next to him. You rested your cheek against his thigh, curling into yourself as you tried pulling your dress down over your ass with one hand.

His hand ran over your back, small circles over the length of skin as you leaned into the touch. You angled your head to look at him, giggling as he stared down at you, fucked out look on his face.

"Was that okay?" You asked, turning so you laid on your back. He nodded dumbly, hair following over his face.

"That was perfect, man," he smiled sheepishly as you laughed, hand coming up to smack his chest at the name he threw you. He was so Eddie, the new character that you happened across.

"We should, uh.. go out," he confessed, nerves returning to his face as you looked up at him. Your eyebrows shot up at the offer, his face covered in horror as he tried to clear up what he just said. "Not like now, no, no, no--not now. Unless you'd want to- but, no... we could, uh... maybe it's a bad idea."

You sat up, pressing a kiss to his mouth as he stumbled through his words. Feeling him relax into you, his breathing evened, lips moving languidly. Pulling away, you rubbed your thumb against his cheekbone, smiling at the way his eyes crinkled at the corners with his own matching smile.

"I want to," you said, pressing a quick kiss to his nose. He blushed, smug look crossing his face as his tried to conceal his beam of affection. "You better wine and dine me after this. I didn't put out for nothing."

He laughed again, kissing you as his arms come to embrace you. "How does a shitty dive bar sound?"

Grin wide with the expanse of your teeth, you shook your head at him, "Sounds perfect, Munson."

an: first Eddie fic, lets celebrate, woooo. its a quick one (in my terms, you know I love the buildup). but lmk if this is something that you guys want more of.

masterlist. inbox and requests are open!

[leafeyrune]

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