#its been a while. trying to focus on not turning things into mush

[bansenshukai]

2.15.23- @tbrmweek day 3, rōnin / teacher / hokage

[chidorrrita]

・❥・I'm your puppet

You bring up the idea of L using you to distress. He agrees. Absolute filth follows.

: ̗̀➛ l lawliet x gn!reader

: ̗̀➛ cw: smut (pretty obvious), heavy degradation, slight praise, breeding, slapping, slight cum eating, being called pretty little thing and slut, reader is a freak for L

: ̗̀➛ wc: 1000+

: ̗̀➛ a/n: two posts in a week, who would have guessed. anyways please enjoy the degenerate activities here. 

L positions you in the way he wants, pulls you up by your throat, long fingers curling around constricting your breaths, until your body is pressed against his, as his hips snap against the fat of your ass causing a “pap pap” sound to echo throughout your room. 

He’s relentless in his search for pleasure, paying you no mind, as his hand begins to squeeze your throat, the other snakes its way to seize your hip in a bruising grip, and hot pants and low grunts escape his chapped lips as they brush against your ear. Your mind turns to mush, no longer able to distinguish pain and pleasure as it creates a sinful mix tricking you into begging for more. All that comes out is a series of babbles, drool dripping down onto your chest, and L smugly laughs at your pathetic self. Too drunk off this moment to say or do anything as he bends you over, forcing your head into a pillow, to hit that sweet spongy spot inside. You let out a scream of delight as if he understood your pleads, and in return clench around his cock deliciously. He lets out another grunt, deep from within his chest, and smacks your ass letting the sting linger before smacking it again with just as much force. It sends your body jolting forward, too much for your broken mind to handle, and you try to squirm from his grasp, but he drags you back to where you belong. Taking his cock like you were made for this, made to be ruined by him. 

Muffled mewls and a feeble excuse of thrusting yourself back on his dick makes his mind lose focus. Normally crippled by the weight of his cases, L kneels taller now, filled with thoughts of fucking you full. He pulls out, just kissing your hole with his flushed tip, until ramming himself back in, setting a brutal pace on your body. You couldn’t be more delighted. 

It was your idea to help him distress. A method, other than eating a concerning amount of sweets, to relax him. 

You picked at the threads on your sweater as you watched him reach for another stack of macarons after downing two boxes. His fingers danced across his keyboard, quickly typing out a report in some language you can’t discern, before he spots you shyly inching over. 

L stuffs a strawberry macaron in his mouth before asking “woul’ ‘o’ ‘ike o’e” offering you a vanilla one. 

“No it’s okay” you say trying to hide a chuckle bubbling its way out. “I was actually wondering how your job is going.”

He continues to violently chew, “ ‘qui’e ‘ell,” he swallows thickly, “why do you ask?”

“Well,” you peer down to your socks, rubbing your toes against the carpet, “I was just worried if you were stressed. You’ve eaten almost three boxes of those.”

“Sugar keeps the brain awake,” he states matter-of-factly as he goes to grab another one.

Your hand stops his, holding it in place, and he looks up to you slightly confused with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth. He’s trying to read you.

“Maybe you should rest a while. Let your brain reset, you know?” His gaze shifts to his laptop. The report is nearly finished, and it has been weeks since he could sleep for more than an hour. He can never fully rest on a job like he can when he’s with you. His mind is plagued by images of known friends and nameless faces calling him, but you keep them at bay. Perhaps resting will do him some good. 

His voice softens to barely a whisper, “that would be good,” until he corrects himself “then I can continue working.”

“I’ll help you distress.”

L starts to get ready for bed, gingerly changing into his pj’s which really only consists of taking off his pants, and begins to slip into bed until he notices your apprehensive self still standing at the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh. Nothing, nothing,” but you still remain at the door.

His eyes squint in suspicion, letting silence question you instead of him. You quickly relent. “I mean… Well I feel bad now.”

More silence.

You sigh, frustrated at the fact your will power breaks so easily for him. “I was going to ask if you wanted to have sex to distress, but then you were actually going to sleep and now-”

“I would very much like to have sex with you.” 

“-I feel like an asshole- wait what?”

“I said I would like to have sex.”

The air in the room turns thick with the smell of sweat and sex cut by your pornagraphic moans, and L’s harsh pants, and the sound of his heavy balls hitting your ass. 

The position he has you in makes him hit even deeper than you could imagine, leaving you incapable of moving let alone thinking, but no need to think. A pretty little thing like you doesn’t need to think when you have L as your lover. He knows what you need is to be a good little slut and take his cum.

Your hoarse voice says “‘is too much. Can’t take it.” between moans, legs shaking underneath L’s thighs.

He accentuates each word with a thrust. “Yes.” “You.” “Can.” forcing the bed frame to hit the wall. 

He bends over your hunched frame, lips leaving sloppy wet kisses against your neck until he reaches your neck and he whispers “be good for me,” and you cum.

Stars dance around the corner of your vision as a soundless scream escapes you, and your hole tightens around L’s cock making him hiss. He drops to his elbows, succumbing to only shallow thrusts until it’s all too much and he cums filling your hole and pushing it back in with his cock. He stays until he softens and falls out, and his eyes fall on your thighs. His cum is smeared across your inner thighs, dripping down between your ass and on to the bed. He scoops it back up and pushes it in, not wanting to waste a single drop, and you moan at the intrusion. 

He takes his cum covered fingers to your parted lips, already familiar with routine, and you wrap them around his fingers, tongue swirling to get every last bit. You release them with a ‘pop,’ eyes waiting patiently for your reward, and he obliges, kissing you deeply, tasting himself on your tongue. 

He gets up to get a towel and begins to get you cleaned up, kissing each bruise he left, and massaging your sore limbs. 

“You did so well for me.”

“Would you say you’re sufficiently relaxed?”

“Yes, very relaxed. Thank you.”

He kisses your head, and tucks you into bed smiling to himself. How he ever got you to be his lover, he will never know, but he is forever grateful you are.

[highvern]

Use Me

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x fem!reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: established relationship, somnophilia (kinda of? Its pretend), roleplay?, unprotected sex, clothed sex, manhandling, fingering, grinding, hoshi is a menace (this is a threat), degradation and praise (good girl, slut), spanking, poor seokmin is used as cannon fodder, dom-ish soonyoung at the end, brat reader, they’re both switches and disgustingly horny for each other

Length: ~1.5k

Note:  i personally feeling iffy about somnophilia but in the context of this fic my mind just turned to mush. See y’all in hell! mwah @tomodachiii come rot your brain with me bestie

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

Soonyoung’s heart races upon finding your sleeping figure curled up beneath the mountain of blankets spread across your bed. You look like a princess with your face illuminated in the faint moonlight spilling between the cracks in the blinds.

You’re only pretending to sleep, the usual mess of limbs and faint snoring notably absent, but Soonyoung still feels wrong—dirty—for what he’s about to do.

He slips in behind you easily. Already the scent of your shampoo and firmness of your body drive Soonyoung wild and he hasn’t even done anything yet. A sharp inhale clues him in to just how eager you are and Soonyoung finds solace that he isn’t alone in how affected he is.

You begged for tonight. Quietly sharing how much the idea of being fucked awake turned you on; for your boyfriend to use your body while you slept, cumming inside you and leaving the mess for you to find in the morning. It wasn’t something you wanted randomly, but after much discussion you both agreed to try it. 

You went through your usual nighttime routine as if Soonyoung wasn’t waiting in the living room. “It’ll help set the mood,” he joked. In reality, he did nothing but pace back and forth while listening to the steady patter of the shower, coming to terms with the fact that his sweet-faced girlfriend craved something so debased. Ironic given the way you’re definitely the kinker one between the two of you with an overflowing box of goodies tucked in the closet to prove it.

Still. There’s something about you giving him free reign of your body while you slept (even if it was pretend) boiled his blood. Maybe it was because the sheer trust you bestowed upon him to allow him such graces or something primitive in his brain about being the only person you’d ever let inside you like this. Or perhaps it's the slight guilt curling around his throat at how turned on he was when you shared your fantasy. Either way, all Soonyoung knows is he’s harder than he’s ever been in his life and the way you arch against him isn’t helping.

So now you both play this little game. Pretending to doze while your boyfriend traces his fingers up your sides, finding that the only thing underneath your oversized sleep shirt is bare skin. Each teasing pass of his hands force another shaky breath through your nose, goosebumps flaring along your arms at the tease of it all. When Soonyoung’s thumb finds the swell of your breast, gently resting the flesh in the curve of his palm, he commends you for committing to the performance until your ass pushes back against his cock desperately. 

The silence of the room rings in your ears. Each breath is awkward and ill timed, forced to pace yourself lest you end the entire charade before there's time to enjoy it. Clothes and blankets ruffle together as Soonyoung moves you just so, one arm under your head and the other continue to etch a path of electricity across your stomach to your heaving chest. 

Tugging on your nipples, you squeak in your boyfriend’s grasp, biting back a pathetic moan when he nips at your ear. You focus on not responding, on completely living in the fantasy; even when the man behind you parts your legs with one of his own and flexes a hard thigh against your aching cunt. Only his thin boxers separate his aching length from your skin, the evident damp spot searing against the cleft of your ass. 

You desperately want to grind down but manage to stop yourself.

Soonyoung doesn't make you suffer for very long, the hand on your breast dropping between your spread thighs to press two digits into your leaking opening. 

“Fuck…how are you this wet already?” Soonyoung whispers, fingers curling just right.

Soonyoung rushes to stretch you out, thrilled in the way you shudder under his touch. He frantically shoves his underwear down, freeing his cock and wedging it between your spread thighs. The weight resting at your entrance is tempting. A tease of penetration as the swollen tip dips inside. All it would take is a tilt of your hips, a press of his and you’d be full—completed. But Soonyoung’s fist rests just below the head and prevents you from sliding back any further.

“Shouldn’t do this when you’re sleeping.” He mutters loud enough for you to hear.

You’d ignore his chastising if it weren’t for the way he withdraws his hips, putting miles of distance between your bodies in a matter of centimeters.

A pathetic whimper answers before you can stop it. The way he plays with you is maddening. As if you hadn’t been wet since you admitted you wanted this; as if you hadn’t given into temptation and touched yourself in the shower, listening to him stalk around the living room like a tiger in a cage.

Soonyoung rolls you onto your back, crowding above you and dropping featherlike kisses across your furrowed brow. “Baby, are you awake?”

You refocus. Relaxing your muscles into compliance, you can feel your boyfriend smirk against your jaw as he praises you silently.

“Good girl.”

Sooyoung drops to mouth at your covered breasts, his hips cradled between yours just before he thrusts inside.

“Shit,” he gasps, drowning out the sound of your own reaction to the sudden intrusion. 

It’s always a tight fit and tonight is no different, snuggly wedged between the slick walls of your pussy. Soonyoung hooks one of your legs over the crook of his elbow, spreading you wider to rut against your core. Only just split open on his cock and you're already losing it, nerves fried at the wet echo of bodies meeting desperately; flooded with satisfaction at the hard stretch.

In a matter of seconds you're openly panting, muscles twitching in the familiar rhythm of Soonyoung’s attention. You may be a shit actress but your commitment is commendable as your boyfriend does everything in his power to break you. 

He doesn’t fuck you fast and reckless like usual; no scrambling up the bed when the force of his hips push you away from him and further into the pillows or you both teeter on the edge of the mattress because your so lost in eachother. No, if you’re still pretending then Soonyoung is in it too. Slow grinds inside you, the kind the brush against places you didn’t realize existed and light a flame in your belly because that's where you feel him. Every inch memorizing the ridges inside you, the head of his cock bulldozing against that place Soonyoung’s been able to locate since the first time you took your clothes off for him.

“Babys so good at taking cock she can sleep right through it.” He taunts into your sternum with a lick.

There isn’t much you can do in terms of revenge for the ill timed remark. The one thing you can do is sure to leave you with a bruised ass and the taste of his cum. So you do it.

“Seokminnie,” you whine breathily, turning sideways to hide a wicked smirk.

Soonyoung doesn't let it slide, soft caresses melting into firm grips reminding you that your doting boyfriend’s muscles aren’t for show; and he’ll gladly use them against you if you want to act like a brat. The sensual pace seconds prior is long forgotten, replaced with a punishing rhythm as he rises to sneer in your face. 

You beat him to the punch, blinking lazily to stare with confused eyes. “Soonie?”

The nickname earns you another kick of his hips, answered with a twitch of your insides and an arch of your spine. Attentive Soonyoung is great, but annoyed Soonyoung is the best fuck you’ll ever have. 

“Oh, now she knows my name,” he moans into your ear, breathing stuttered in time with the drag of his cock.

A tinge of pain across your nipples confirms that he’s pissed.

“Soonie, what—”

You cut yourself off with a squeak of suprise, lungs tight as your boyfriend twists you to your knees to face the headboard.

Wiggling back to find him, you're met with a swat against the seat of your ass, his hand holding on to the flesh and forcing you away.

“What were you dreaming about?”

“Nothing.” You mumble into the pillows.

Another smack but this time his hand leaves and the sting sends another gush of arousal down your thighs.

“Lie again.”

“I wasn’t—”

Smack.

“Moaning someone else’s name in your sleep?”

“I wouldn’t!”

Smack.

“You did.” His chest molds to your back as he drops his lips to your ear. “So how about I remind you who this pussy belongs to?”

-

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[castiwls]

i can see you - s.w

Paring; sam x reader

Prompt; 'but what would you do if I went to touch you now?'

Requested; anon

Notes; this was one of my surprise songs🥺

also requests are open again!

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

Sam glanced up, his finger stilling over the keys as you placed a glass down beside him. “What’s this?” 

Slipping into the chair beside him you shrugged. “A drink.” Taking a sip from your own glass you nudged your foot against his. “You’ve been working all day. Take a break.” It was true. Ever since you’d first woken up Sam had been sat in the same seat barely glancing away from his laptop. 

Even when Dean had tried to drag him out to a bar he’d simply shrugged his brother off claiming this was more important. “I really need to get this lead.” He gestured to the laptop, smiling slightly. “But thank you.” 

He went back to his typing missing the way your lips pursed in slight annoyance. You watched him for a moment longer, swirling your glass absentmindedly. Finishing your drink you leaned forward slightly. 

“Sam.” He hummed. Frowning you reached over placing a finger against his jaw you turned his head to face you. “Seriously stop.”

His eyes seemed to search your face for a moment as he swallowed. Your touch on his jaw was feather light almost as you reached over to close the laptop. “I can think of at least three more interesting things you could be doing right now.” You reached for his glass taking a sip before dropping your hand from his jaw. 

His jaw clenches slightly - the muscles in his jaw working as he takes the glass from your hand. “That is interesting.” He placed the glass back on the table. 

You scoffed. “To you maybe.” Standing you moved behind him pressing your hands into his shoulder. “Dean’s not coming back anytime soon and I'm bored.” Your tone was a touchy whiney as you ran your hands over his shoulders. 

If your touch had any effect he refused to show it. Clearing his throat he turned his head back. “You're drunk.”

“I had one glass.” 

He raised an eyebrow. You groaned quietly. “Okay fine. Two glasses but still…” You chewed on your lower lip for a minute. “I’m bored.” Sam hummed to himself as he thought for a moment.

“You know you could have gone with Dean right? You didn’t have to stay here.” He smiled that boyish one that left your insides feeling like mush as you moved your hands. 

“Well, I didn't want to go with Dean.” moving away from him you sat on the motel bed. “I’m not in the mood for a hookup with some guy who's gonna try and explain the godfather to me for the fifty time.”

He laughed quietly at your comment. “What do you want then?”

You

“Company.” 

Standing again you moved back behind him. “Can I try something?” Sam narrowed his eyes, suspicious almost at what you could be planning.

“Your tense.” You ran a hand over the back of his neck. “This isn't helping.” You gestured to the laptop. Before he could respond you pressed on his neck, slow circular movements as you worked at the knot.

A quiet noise left his throat as he tensed for a moment. Curling his hands into fists he let out a breath. His eyes darted around the room trying to find something - anything - else to focus on other than the feel of your hands on his body.

“Is this okay?” Your lips brushed his ear and he jumped slightly. “Ye-yes.” He cleared his throat, blushing slightly.

A smile worked its way onto your lips as you pulled back moving your hands from his neck to his shoulder. After a while his body seemed to relax into your hands, his head tipping back slightly. 

His head hit your stomach as his eyes rolled up to meet yours. Electricity seemed to spark as his eyes met yours. Your touch grew firmer for a moment before you felt him shift slightly. 

Your hands dropped as he stood, taking a step towards you he reached out. He pulled you forward by the waist in one swift movement before crashing his lips upon yours. 

A smile pulled at your lips as you slowly stepped back towards the bed, Sam following. You pulled back momentarily as the backs of your knees hit the bed. “Do you-” His voice seemed slightly deeper as he stroked a hand over your cheek.

Sitting back you nodded. “Took you long enough.” 

Sam rolled his eyes at your teasing before pressing his lips to yours again. Pressing forward you fell back, your back hitting the bed as he placed a hand beside your head.

Staying in did have its advantages.

[thescribblings]

LONG POST AHEAD! Lots of text and no drawings after the cut!

So, I've been procrastinating this post for a while because i don't have any art explaining his new arm except this one, and i wanted it to be pretty similar to, or even better than the first prosthetic post, but i don't think i can do anything more than an infodump today, lmfao sorry

But here it is! In all of its glowy/floaty glory!

Some facts and features about his arm under the cut

So, I'll just copy and paste what i wrote in my notes, since my brain is complete mush lately

The notes are unfinished and in no specific order, but i figured it might be interesting if you think my au is fun ,^,

His arm! Made of a mix of carbon fiber and whatever the fuck the metal future donnie invented is

-the metal parts of the arm are matte, for style, obviously

*The nails are made of a type of nanotech so he can customize everything about them, with some limits due to there being limited nanotech stored in the hand itself.

- he can have claws, short nails, stilettos, talons, or even a mix of them. He knows a thing or two about programming nanotechnology due to his other prosthetic, so he can customize it on his own eithout issue. And yes, he does

paint the nails on it, as well.

*Some form of electromagnetism keeps his hand and forearm attached, without it they'd just fall to the ground. Some things it can do with this feature involves;

-see how his sword is situated on his back? He couldn't possibly get it off without bending over backwards, it's too long, right? Actually, he can grab the handle with his prosthetic and then detach the hand from the forearm, this will let him independently control the hand, which lets him pull the sword out of its scabbard no problem

-the limbs can move independently, the only limit being his ability to focus enough to smoothly control the individual pieces. This lets him easily take his sword out of its scabbard with the hand while simultaneously blocking a hit with the forearm, for example

-since the hand is the only part that doesn't glow, it's much stealthier, so he can surprise attack opponents from behind, even when he's standing right in front of them

-are the parts sentient? Do they have independent will? He doesn't fuckin know, and neither does Donnie. He discovered that they can move independently on a whim and decided that it's best not to question it. He's totally not extremely cocky about having potentially created artificial intelligence on accident -Stickbug

*The individual pieces of the arm can hover, letting him do things like what is shown in the illustration

*Nanotech is stored in the individual pieces

-if something were to, say, slash his prosthetic forearm and leave a gash, the nanotech would mend it immediately, letting him keep fighting unaffected until he can properly fix the damage

-if something were to slice the entire forearm in two, the electromagnetism would pull the pieces together while the nanotech seals the gash, making the forearm good as new

*What is it powered by?

-i didn't mention this in the thigh prosthetic post, but his thigh isn't actually powered by anything, it doesn't need more than the guidance of his muscles to function

-the electromagnetism in the arm is powered by his ninpo, it lets him turn it on and off on a whim, and it gives him a more natural sense of control when he operates it

-his ninpo powers the electromagnetism, but what powers the rest of the arm? Trick question, it's the electromagnetism! It triggers mechanisms in the individual pieces that powers all the mechanical features, such as the nanotech, fingers, and a coupleo nes on brand with it being genius built:tm:

-since the arm is technically powered by, and connected to his ninpo, he can teleport it much like his nagamaki!

*since it's powered by his ninpo, if his ninpo gets spazzy he cannot use the arm. If he were to try to use the arm when his ninpo is spazzy, a lot of things might happen

-first things first, why would his ninpo be spazzy? It's a side effect of his body effectively sustaining itself with his ninpo for over a decade. It made up for lost sleep, lack of food and water, and everything you might need to, y'know, live. This quickly drained his ninpo until it was little more than a spark, and anytime that spark flickered out from him overworking himself, he'd crash and pass out for the next day and a half. He didn't actually know this was going on until he popped up in the present and everything just kinda started making sense

-it could switch on and off sporadically, causing it to fall to the floor and snap back into place at random

-the hand and forearm might suddenly shoot off in a random direction, which is hilarious, but also dangerous

-he would have basically no control over the arm, leading to jagged movement and randomly activating different features

-it might randomly teleport to or from him, depending on how he feels

*at first glance the previous point might seem like bad design choices, but it's actually a necessary feature! Since he tends to overdo it pretty often it's important that he can't use his prosthetic when his ninpo is spazzy

-his ninpo only gets spazzy if something triggers it, it's kinda like it switches between rest and survival mode, this gets triggered if he's overused his ninpo and it got too close to when he relied on it for survival

-the only way to fix his spazzy ninpo is, well, rest. A lot of napping. Which is why it's so important that he literally can't use his prosthetic when he needs rest

*It can teleport?

-why yes, it can! Being able to telepoort the pieces to and from himself gives him a huge advantge in battle. Since you can't disarm him! Pun intended

*it's a very silent piece of tech, which is ideal for his fighting style. the only part that makes the typical 'tech prosthetic' sounds is the fingers, as they are connected with joints instead of electromagnetism

*the flexible parts

-the main part covers the delt/ shoulder of his residual limb and wraps around his neck for a snug, comfortable fit.

-there's a sliver of it cutting the metal of the palm in half right between his fingers, giving it more mobility. (Try gently bending your own palm, it's surprisingly flexy)

-there's a small sliver at the 'wrist' of it, since it wouldn'tbe able to bend properly if there wasn't something leting that part of the hand bend, as well

-the flexible parts in the hand is yellow, while the piece covering his shoulder is green, adorned with his iconic shoulder stripe, in yellow, of course

-the green and yellow aren't a perfect colour match, they're a bit more saturated than his skin and markings, but it's not very noticable at first sight, so if he wears a hoodie over the arm his hand could be mistaken for a real hand, letting him hide it in public, to avoid stares

*The hand

-it has a softer, kinda rubbery material covering his palm and the length of the fingers that lets him tell different textures apart better, even if just by sound. It's a lighter, more desaturated green than the hand, even lighter thann his skin

-the soft material is not smooth, but rather textured, not bumpy, per se, just somewhat rough. Maybe a bit sandpaper-y

-the textured material gives him better grip, especially in battle, since it wouldn't exactly be ideal for a sword that is 5'7 long to suddenly fly across the battlefield. As funny as it would be, lol

-it also lets him control his grip strength better, so he doesn't accidentally crush someone's hand, or whatever object he was holding

*There's a good chance you might find him walking around with just the shoulder/bicep piece, since he can teleport the other pieces to himself at will, and it's less draining when he leaves them somewhere, off

Have nice day :]

[this-is-krikkit]

I have a challenge for you! You know the ‘almost kissing meme’? Can you write the scene with Sannes in the background, third wheeling a couple of morally dubious, amateur torturers? Merci et a pui tarde.

thank you so much for this distracting prompt, my friend!! did wonders for my nerves 👌🏻🫰🏻

Almost kissing meme: wrong atmosphere

Characters: Hange, Levi, Sannes

Tags: tw torture, tw blood, tw canon typical violence really, levihan, levihan kiss (couldn't help it lol)

Hange lets the scalpel fall on the metallic tray behind them, and before Sannes is done screaming from that latest wound, seize what's quickly becoming their favorite weapon and shove it in between the edges of the deep, oozing wound on his stomach, fingers clenching around the electrical trigger.

His cries turn into muffled gurgles as he convulses against his bounds, and it's such a fascinating sight it takes half a minute for Hange to realize Levi's tapping their shoulder and trying to get their attention.

"Stop, Hange!" he calls out for what must be the tenth time, his eyes focused on the mush they've turned the man's abdominal skin into.

They release the button and take a tiny step back, turning halfway to stare at Levi with a frown and the scariest, most manic glint he's ever seen in their eyes -not helped by the fresh bood that's splattered all over their face.

"What? Come on Levi, don't tell me you're getting squeamish," they scold, sounding as angry as they do disappointed. "This guy murdered Nick, for fuck's sake, made him got through much more extensive torture than this before he-

"I know," Levi cuts in, sparing a glare to the pathetic human lump in front of them who's slumping in his seat wih his head bowed down, "I know. But don't you think you'll fuck that thing up by wetting it in all this blood?"

He's seen the way Hange practically drooled over this unique piece of technology they found while looking through MP arsenal a while back and he's had to listen to enough rants about its uses and misuses to know they've grown overly -and disturbingly, though not uncharacteristically- attached to it. And even if he doesn't much care for it himself, he's aware Hange's been meaning to study its applicability in the fight against Titans, and he definitely wouldn't want them to waste their only sample over this sorry specimen.

"Oh, but I won't!" they reassure him quickly, their foul mood seemingly gone in an instant. "This type of taser is top quality, you know, one of the most resistant from what I've read in that forbidden weaponry book you got me for my birthday. No, in fact I was wondering if electricity wouldn't conduct even better through blood, since it's mostly water! Tell me, Sannes, does the pain feel worse here," Hange asks as they apply it a short second onto healthy skin, "or here?" and then into the wound again.

Sannes only groans this time around, clenching his teeth and biting his tongue with the forced muscle contractions.

"I'm not your lab rat," he pants when he can speak again.

Hange sighs, straightening their back and legs as they tower over him. They stretch their arms high above their head, and Levi can't stop a snicker from showing on his face when he realizes what their next move is -and he hopes this doesn't give their prisoner any clue.

Thankfully, all it does is direct Sannes' attention to him in the form of a pointless glare, and makes him completely miss the cue when Hange lets one of their arms fall down swiftly, their full palm landing harshly against his cheek, slapping his face so hard his neck muscles allow for an unnatural angle between his head and body for a fraction of a moment before it lols back into place.

"You are whatever I want you to be right now," they purr, voice so low and dangerous it sends a not entirely unpleasant shiver down Levi's spine. "I'll do it again, so focus this time around."

"No need! The second, the second one was worse," Sannes gives in hurriedly, uselessly fighting against his restrains and just as Hange's taser was about to touch his cut flesh again.

"Hm, is that so?" Hange mumbles, retreating their threatening hand and petting his hair like they would their horse's with the other. "But that could be simple nociceptive pain from the wound itself, and not the neuropathic-like jolt of electricity... Let me clarify, because as a high ranking useless MP officer, I fear you may not be the sharpest tooth in the Titan's mooth," they add, giggling madly at their own joke. "Do you think the pain was more intense from the pressure I applied on those slashed guts of yours, or did the taser hit itself really feel more powerful there?"

"Wall's sake," Sannes snarls as he frees his head from their lose hold, clearly reinvigorated by the insult to his ego, "just stop talking, would you? That ought to be the worst torture you're putting me through right now."

He spits on the ground as he finishes his sentence, missing Hange's boots by a breath thanks to their quick jump aside, and grins up at them.

Hange hums quietly while Levi clicks his tongue at that silly mistake, and before Sannes sees it coming they leap forward, their right, taser-holding hand ahead of them while their left one supports their weight on the wooden back of the chair as they pull the trigger.

Sannes' eyes widen and he lets out a long, pathetic wail as the electricity surges into his groin and throughout his body at full force, and Hange's laugh echoes almost as loud.

"If you really think that's the worst part," they warn when his voice breaks, "boy do you have another thing coming."

They sound confident enough and Levi's pretty sure Sannes is fooled by that front -if he's conscious enough to hear them, that is, and the way his eyes keep rolling in his skull make Levi doubt it for a second- but he's known Hange for a long, long time, and he knows how shaken their friend's death and all the recent events have left them. Which is why he fears they're about to lose it, especially when he sees the way their hand shakes as they bring the taser up and against his ribcage.

"Don't!" Levi warns.

He grabs their wrist and swirls their body around, and Hange was so out of it it takes them a couple of seconds to speak again.

"What?" they ask once they're face to face, eyebrows knit in confusion.

"Focus, shitty glasses," he whispers. "He could die right away if you do that."

Hange blinks a few times, processing his words.

And then a shy, almost embarrassed smile graces their lips.

"You listened," they realize, eyes lighting up with excitement and something else he's seen in there before but could never properly identify. "When I told you my hypothesis about how direct precordial tasing stimulation might kill someone because it would bypass the heart's natural impulse," they add, putting the taser down on the table and bringung their hand flat against his chest, right above his accelerating heartbeat, "you listened."

He only realizes how close they are standing and how intimate that gesture was when he feels them inhale sharply and when their own free hand timidly cups his forearm, keeping his hand in place against their cheek.

"I always listen to you, four-eyes. You don't give me much of a choice anyway," Levi replies with a shake of his head, one of his hand reflexively coming up to swipe at the blood stains on their face.

Their eyes meet his, the gorgeous dark brown of their irises a thin circle around the black of their blown out pupils. And Levi gets an idea.

An insane idea, one he's had before but never induldged into outside his own bed or shower, never dared to dwell on when Hange and their stupidly full lips were around to tempt him to act on it. One he should definitely not entertain right now, he tells himself.

Except he's not the one dangerously leaning in.

"Guess you were right. Watching a deranged freak like you make out with her assistant is definitely worse than that shit from before," Sannes taunts once more.

He's almost proud of himself when he spots the awed look on Hange's face as they take in the tooth on the floor, the bloodied drool at the corner of Sannes' mouth and the nearly exact same position Levi's standing in right now, like his right foot wasn't in that bastard's face not a flash of a second ago.

Levi doesn't need to think about it.

He automatically, gently but swiftly pushes Hange away, so there's nothing standing between him and Sannes before he makes his move.

"What?" he asks as nonchalantly as he can, shrugging. "He was being rude."

It hurts, the clash of their teeth against his and the way their glasses poke at his nose, the leather digging into his nape with the force they're using to keep him in place and their feet that lands on his own as they find their balance after their launched themself forward. It's a hurt he welcomes though, a pain that connects him to this world that's getting more and more fucked up every day, something real and loud and impossible to ignore.

Hange beams at him.

And then they grab the thin straps of his apron, tugging on them hard and crashing their lips against his.

Hange's gone before he gets a chance to properly respond, and if it wasn't for the loud pop that rings as they release his lower lip, Levi would think he's made up that unbelievable moment where they sucked on it.

"You have to teach me that flying tooth kicking technique some day, shorty," they say with a smirk as they let go of him, "it's way too hot for you to keep it to yourself."

They turn around again, facing the slobbering, wincing in disgust but finally quiet mess that's become of Sannes.

"Sure. There are so many things that are wrong with you, four eyes," Levi says to the tiny hairs sticking out at the back of their long neck, trying not to wonder how they would have felt under his palm if he'd had the time to touch them.

"Thank you," they reply, head turning to give him a wink. "In the mean time, I guess I'll just have to stick to the old fashioned teeth removal tools!" they add excitedly, picking up pliers from the table.

Levi hides in a smile, and gets closer to the chair to hold a now struggling Sannes' face in place as Hange forces his mouth open.

[myakkun]

ROYAL PAIN | RYUGUJI KEN

royal au ; betrothed ; mentions of poison

“i’m not fucking kissing them.”

“he’s not fucking kiss me.”

“your highnesses,” mitsuya hisses, pinching the bridge of his nose as he bites back the urge to literally rip off the people in front of him’s heads. “there’s no time for your petty grudges. we are under a time crunch.”

“the only crunch there will be is draken’s nose if he gets another step closer to me,” you bite off, pressing the heel of your palm to your temple. you sway a little on your feet and you’re lucky there’s a desk behind you that you can halfway sit on to stable yourself.

“funny, i was thinking the same thing,” the prince smiles—sarcastic and condescending—as he leans against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

when you went out on your designated and mandatory weekly outing with your—begrudging on both ends, mind you—betrothed, you’d expected a silent few hours spent under chaperoned care as the two of you sat in the garden and tried to ignore the other’s presence. that’s what you and draken normally did, anyways. spent time together without indulging the other at all. the two of you butt heads like toddlers fighting over the same swing when there was an empty one right next to it; pointless but unwavering. your families hadn’t a clue, and they wouldn’t, not with the lovesick act you both put on around them to appease their old hearts. you’d expected this afternoon’s “date” to go like any other.

but apparently when you fight fate long enough it has its way of biting you in the ass, and today’s the day fate decided to take a bite.

it comes in the form of a muffin. normally one of the maidens or a servant will bring baskets out for you and draken throughout your rendezvous, and today was no different. a sweet young boy whom you’d recognized from working around the kitchen had brought the food out to you and bid you both with a bow before scampering right along. you hadn’t eaten all day and the muffin was practically calling your name from where it sat perfectly atop all the others.

one morsel was all it took for you to know something wasn’t right, and you’d hoped maybe your taste buds had just been acting up, but no.

fate took a big bite.

so, that’s how you not only ended up poisoned in the middle of your betrothed’s garden, but it’s also how you ended up here. locked in a secret room in draken’s castle with him and his personal guard mitsuya for the unforeseen future while knights and whoever the hell else try to search for the person responsible.

you cough into your hand and grip onto the desk.

“your highness,” mitsuya addresses, a hint more formality to his tone now as he takes a step towards you, “i’m afraid you’re getting worse, and you know that if you would just—“

“no, we don’t know that,” you interject. another cough wracks through you. your mouth feels impossibly dry. “kissing him only works if it’s that.. ‘true love’ shit and, correct me if i’m mistaken, but that seems like a far cry, no? now, what we do know is that.. this is taking longer. because i did not eat a-all of. all..”

“your grace?” mitsuya ushers, hand reaching for your shoulder as your lids start to droop and your body follow suit. “your grace, look at me. focus, please.”

“sorry i—i..“

and the guard is starting to fade out in front of you, double and triple and then come back together in a way that’s making you dizzy. your already hazy and clogged brain is turning into mush tenfold. as you go to continue, open your mouth again to try to finish your explanation, you feel your body give out entirely.

“fuck,” he mutters, hardly able to catch you before you crumple to floor altogether. “sir, help me carry them to the couch.”

it’s almost funny, how even poisoned to near death you still try to swat draken away as he comes to your aid.

“don’t.. d-don’t fuckin’ need the help from y-you,” you grumble, words slurred and unarticulated in a way you know your mother would scold you for.

draken scoffs. “trust me, i don’t want to be doing this any more than you want me to,” he retorts, throwing your arm over his shoulder and effectively helping mitsuya lug you over to the couch.

mitsuya, the angel, tries to be somewhat gentle in laying you down a top the cushions.

draken drops you the first chance he gets.

“i’m uncertain on what to do,” mitsuya says as he stands next to the prince, fingers fiddling with themselves like he’s ready to strike at any given moment given a command. “nobody is to come in or out of this room until the assailant is captured but if they don’t find them soon it won’t matter.”

he turns to draken then, a determination in his eyes that the blond is regrettably familiar with, and draken is tempted to find that muffin and take a chunk out of it himself.

“no.”

“sir.”

“no.”

“sir, please.”

“i refuse—“

“they’re dying!” mitsuya shouts. and he knows he’s stepping out of line, even if he’s known the prince for years. draken could have his head for this in a split second if he wanted to. but he can’t just sit by and watch this happen. “your highness, they are dying. i know you cannot stand each other. i know the two of you have some sort of quarrel. but you should at least try. you may be comfortable leaving this room with one less person but i most certainly am not. so your majesty, please.”

draken considers, for a very brief moment, if he should stab himself with the dagger on mitsuya’s hip—then he decides against it, because if you were to live he can only imagine the words you’d say without him there to snap back. and that’s simply unimaginable.

he turns his gaze to you.

you, who is normally so full of spunk and spirit and moxie. you, who is always ready and waiting with a comeback on the tip of your tongue, the perfect rebuttable to whatever it is he has to say and the perfect chide to match when he counters back. you, who is always shouting with him and at him and to him with your voice booming and unwavering and rocking him all the way into his chest.

you, who is now emptied of all that.

“okay,” he mutters, low and uneasy, as he takes an immediate step back towards the couch.

okay, he thinks, because this isn’t the you he knows. he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so silent for so long, doesn’t think he’s ever been forced to picture you laying so still. there’s an endless shiver that’s rattling through you despite the coat tugged around your shoulders. your eyes aren’t keen and coy, but instead dazed out and spaced. no, this isn’t the you he knows at all. this feels like the shell that’s left of it.

you don’t even try to fight him as he raises your head up enough to slip onto the couch, laying it back into his lap. his chest hurts.

“y-you’re.. you’re going t-to..”

“yes,” he cuts you off, because he can tell it’s hard, to push the words out at this point. he brushes a piece of hair out of your face, slightly damp with sweat as it clings to your feverish forehead. “i’m going to.”

you hum, another cough ripping out of you and your entire body jerks with it. god, it must hurt.

draken is hit with something then, something chilling and warming at the same time that runs up his spine and wraps around his throat. he presses his fingers to your cheek to make you actually look up at him, and he swears he can literally see it—the way that roaring flame in your eyes dies down to nothing more than a glowing ember as the poison does it’s best to soak up every last drop of you.

he’s going to kiss you.

and he knows.

“it’s okay,” he whispers, as a tear slips out of your eye. you’re practically gasping for air at this point as he pulls you closer to him, cradles the back of your head as he draws you nearer. he brushes the tear away with his thumb. “you better not kill me if this works.”

your breath puffs against his lips and if draken didn’t know any better, he’d think it was your weak attempt at a laugh. but he doesn’t have time to think too much about that as he leans that little bit forward.

and he kisses you, in a totally non-begrudging way.

it’s a little weird, the feeling that rushes over him as soon as your lips connect. for a second he thinks it might be the poison, somehow spreading to him through you, making his fingers tingle and his cheeks flush and his heart rate sky rocket in his chest. but that theory is blown out of the water as you suck in a gasp while still locked with him.

yeah, he knows that the strong emotion he’s been festering over for years is not hatred.

you pull back, hand placed to draken’s chest as he holds you there, keeps you close, even though he should be shoving you off of him at the first open opportunity. but he doesn’t, and you don’t make a move either. a beat passes, then two, you find yourself getting lost in dark irises and cherry lips and before you know what’s happening his mouth is back on yours as you loop your arms around his neck.

faintly, the two of you can hear mitsuya’s grossed out complaint and grumbles but both of you ignore it, suddenly finding each other far more important than anything else. you try to convince yourself—a last resort grab for straws—that you’re just making sure the whole curse is gone, but you get about a millisecond into that thought and mentally tell yourself to shut the fuck up.

when the two of you part now, you’re having trouble breathing for a reason different than poison altogether. and you’re greeted with a smile, the first genuine one that’s ever been thrown your way from the prince in the entirety that you’ve known him.

“you know, for someone who was so appalled by the idea of kissing ten minutes ago, you don’t seem so disgusted now,” you snark, cheeky grin working it’s way to your lips as you feel the energy start to surge through your body again.

“i could say the same to you,” draken huffs a laugh.

“thought you wanted me dead.” it’s light, teasing as you poke his ribs and bite down on the edge of your lip. “and look at you, prince draken. saving me from my doom.”

“well, yes. i want to kill you myself, couldn’t let the poison steal my thunder.”

you smack his chest. he blows out a chuckle and grabs your hands to hold them to him, like he’s scared to let you go for even a second. and you think he might be, because it must’ve been scary, seeing you like that. sure, you were the one dying, but having to witness it seems nearly equally as traumatic. you start to lean in again, draken already trying to meet you halfway, but a throat clearing stops you both.

“before this escalates any further and i am forever scarred for life,” mitsuya calls from across the room. you and draken both look over at him, greeted by a shit eating grin and a look so prideful it doesn’t really fit his face. “i told you so.”

you aren’t sure whether you want to thank the guard or yell at him, but before you can even decide draken is shoving you away and striding towards him to get into a scuffle you’re far too familiar with between the two. from your seat on the couch you watch draken tussle with pink cheeks and a furrowed brow, and you wonder how you could’ve ever hated a face like that.

and how the hell you were so opposed to kissing it.

reblogs appreciated <3

[bewitchedfeathers]

Cooking Spices Part 2 - Sted/die fic

Link to Part 1

Eddie's sensitive nose is set off by spices. Good thing his boyfriend Steve has a sneezing kink.

This is smut, which I don't often write so let me know if its sexy enough.

---

“So you like how sensitive my nose gets, Stevie? Would you like it if I…hhh…sneezed again now?”

Steve swallowed hard, sure he could almost feel all of his blood rushing south. He nodded dumbly, eyes caught on where Eddie’s nostrils were flaring into wide ovals at the itch in his nose built to a burn.

“Hhhh….hh-heh-EHSSHHuh!...Snf Damn, feels good to let it out for once,” he said with a smirk as Steve made a small choked sound.

PART 2

Steve was reeling from Eddie’s immediate acceptance of his strange fetish. He gaped for a moment trying to think while Eddie was trying to turn his brain to sneeze induced mush.

“Bless you…” he managed, voice gone lower with arousal. Eddie was grinning like the cat that got the canary. 

Eddie reached out and pressed his palm to the bulge of Steve’s pants wrenching a choked off moan from his lips. “You *really* like this, huh, love?” he asked, not really a question but still looking for Steve to answer. Steve was already putty in his hands, he loved when his boyfriend took the lead.

“Y-yeah,” Eddie squeezed Steve’s erection through his pants, “Fuck, your sneezes are so hot, Eddie.”

“You know I was snfff sneezing all morning because I left the window open last night and my ah….allergies kicked in,” he leaned in an sniffled next to Steve’s ear, illiciting a moan from Steve, “Was worried I’d be a mess when I came Snf…came over. But my nose is still re-heh-real sensitive, Stevie.”

Steve was rolling his hips up into Eddie’s hand, breathing heavily as this wet dream come to life. Eddie straddled one of Steve’s thighs grinding his cock against it for some relief, all his blood rushing south at seeing Steve coming undone so quickly.

“Hhh…huh…Huh’GSHHT…Hih’KSHXT….snff…” Eddie stifled more out of habit than anything but he was curious if Steve had particular tastes when it came to sneezes.

“Eddie,” Steve moaned, head falling back as he was almost overwhelmed by the sight and sound of his boyfriend sneezing. “Please…” he whined, hips jerking up into Eddie’s teasing touch. 

“What do you want lovely boy? Want my-hhhh…IKSHHuh snf hand on your cock?” he sneezed openly down between them and Steve whined wantonly. 

“Yes. God, yes. Please, love I’m already-already close.”

Eddie looked up in surprise, smirk falling away for a moment, before his expression became one of wanton delight. “You’ve been holding out on me with this kink, sweetheart. Never seen you get so riled up this quick,” Steve flushed, cheeks and the tips of his ears gone pink. “I love it. Gonna have so…hhh-SNF so much fun with this.”

Steve whimpered, shuddering at the dark promise in Eddie’s voice. Eddie wasted no time in unzipping Steve’s pants and shoving the band of his boxers just low enough to give him access to Steve’s weeping cock. He wrapped his fist around him and Steve keened loudly. Eddie groaned in return, rubbing himself against Steve’s thigh.

Eddie used his free hand to brush his index finger lightly under his nose, catching on the delicate edges of his irritated nostrils. “hhh…I gotta…hhh…sneeze again…” He purred teasingly between wavering inhales. 

Steve was thrusting up into Eddie’s loose fist and he tightened his hold stroking him in time, focus torn between the building itch in his nose and the feel of Steve in his hand. “Just like that, sweetheart, t-take what you….you ne-heed…Heh’EHTsshhoo….hh’Hh’TCHsshhh…hh-hhh-IESHH-uhhh….Snffff….”

Eddie sneezed openly across Steve’s cock and his own hand misting them and Steve’s vision whited out as he came with a wild cry. Eddie rutted against Steve’s thigh following moments later, the sight of Steve coming for him enough to push him over the edge. 

“Holy shit,” Steve slurred, sounding pleasure drunk and fucked out. Eddie grinned smugly with a wet sniffle.

“Glad you endjoyed yourself, Stevie. Sndffsnf,” he said beginning to sound a little stuffed up. He pressed a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth that he clumsily tried to return, Eddie grinned, loose and relaxed from the afterglow but still kind of buzzing about finding out this new part of Steve. 

“Mm, so much. And bless you,” Steve murmured with a cheeky smile. Steve grabbed a tissue from a box on the side table and brought it to Eddie’s nose. “You sound stuffed up, baby. You should blow your nose.”

Eddie hesitated for a moment before mentally shrugging and giving his nose a good blow into the tissue. Steve smiled looking pleased and Eddie returned it with a soft indulgent one of his own. 

“Thanks love.”

“Trust me. It’s my pleasure.”

Eddie laughed and kissed him again before cleaning them both up.

[teratonasti]

Crusaders Harem: Jotaro

I’m a WHORE for reverse harems and what better group to lewd than the Stardust Crusaders? Here’s the first (of many) part for said harem, a nice little spotlight for Jotaro and Star Platinum! Send requests for who should be next- and in what situation as well ;3c

Tagging @tamakisbunnygirl and @tsunderegum

This fic includes: voyeurism, pierced dick, inappropriate Stand usage, polyamory (I guess??), cock slapping, overstim, face fucking, deep throating, creampies, cum swallowing, gender neutral reader

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You couldn’t count how many times a week you heard Jotaro mutter “Good grief,” under his breath at anything and everything. That had to be his catchphrase, really, and he never seemed to notice that it was said aloud and not in his brain- which you could only assume was the place it was supposed to belong. Hell, he didn’t even notice how much he said it himself, and always shrugged you off when you won a bet with Polnareff or Kakyoin about how many times it’d be said in a given day.

All the times he said it, and it was never at you- until tonight.

“JoJo, don’t ‘good grief’ me- it’s not nice,” you whine, cheek resting on one big shoulder. You’re laid on his back as he pulls off his boots and jacket, trying to get at least a little attention from him. After all, it was his week with you being all his- none of the other Crusaders would have your attention while Jotaro had dibs. But he just wasn’t in the mood. Hadn’t been for days. Tonight was a last ditch effort with him before you got fed up and went to Kakyoin, the next on your roster of affection.

Another sigh- and a “Yare yare...” sound from him. You’re puffing your cheeks out in annoyance, about to push off him and announce that his week was up. The Star Platinum appears, eyes bright and tinged with mischief as it watches you over Jotaro’s shoulder.

Jotaro shrugs you off of his back and stands to let Star Platinum take his spot. One big hand runs up your leg while the other wraps around your shoulder; you’re manhandled easily by the huge Stand and placed on one big thigh without much fuss. “If you want to play so badly,” Jotaro hums from his desk, “then play with Star Platinum. It’s still my week, and I get to do whatever I want with you.”

At his suggestion you burn bright red, but the idea isn’t as... foreign to you as it would have been before you’d begun your multiple affairs with the Crusaders. Already, you’d had Hermit Purple used as bondage gear and Hierophant Green turning your mind into mush for their user’s pleasure (all with consent), so having Star Platinum rearrange your insides wasn’t out of your new ordinary.

While you ponder it all, Star Platinum’s hands find their way under your clothes, running in feather light strokes over your skin. It’s surprisingly gentle for its size; maybe the Stand recognizes that one wrong move could end your entire existence. A soft, rumbling “Ora...” sounds, and your brows furrow.

“He wants to fuck you, but only if you agree,” Jotaro translates, and you flush with a little giggle. How sweet and considerate- the Stand wanted your consent. Two big fingers pinch at your nipple to get your attention to focus on it, and you lean backwards to give Star Platinum a kiss.

“Alright, big boy. Show me what you’ve got,” you hum, rocking back against the Stand’s erection.

The very good thing about Stands was their stamina. There was no way of knowing how many times Star Platinum had brought you to orgasm, or how many different ways it bent you to make you see stars, but all you knew was that it was heaven. 

You’re shaking as you use your grip on its thighs to fuck yourself on the massive cock between your legs, breath coming in hoarse pants. Jotaro’s eyes burn your skin as he watches you struggle to move yourself on his Stand, Star Platinum just laying there and humming softly while it holds your hips. He’d ordered you to work for your last orgasm- Star Platinum wasn’t going to do anything to help. It was almost a little pathetic to see you struggle and whine for him, begging the Stand to move his hips even a little bit.

Ever loyal to its user, Star Platinum just continued to weigh your hips down, a little smile on its face.

“Oi,” Jotaro calls, breaking your concentration. You look at him with watery eyes and see that he’s got his dick out and in his hand, jerking it slowly to the sight of you. Your mouth waters at the sight, body craving his warmth. He crooks one finger and Star Platinum sits up. You’re laid out on its thighs, nipples brushing its knees as Jotaro rolls his chair close and fists a hand in your hair. “Make me cum before Star Platinum and you’ll get a sloppy creampie. And maybe I’ll let you swallow my cum as well.”

Your eyes cross, a lewd moan escaping when he snaps his fingers. All of a sudden Star Platinum is bruising your hips and jerking you back and forth on its cock, bruising your cervix with each thrust. Jotaro doesn’t give you a chance to speak before he’s shoving his dick down your throat, two fingers pinched meanly on your nostrils. Your hands find his thighs, fisting the material of his pants as you struggle for air. Jotaro groans above you as your throat constricts around him then lets go of your nose so you can breathe. At that same moment, Star Platinum yanks you back onto its cock, balls twitching as you cough and splutter.

Jotaro’s dark chuckle sounds; the pink head of his cock slaps wet against your cheek as he huffs above you, pupils wide. “You look like such a whore,” he rumbles, then buries his dick in your throat again. This time, you’re ready, and your tongue rolls over the veins under his shaft and the ladder of barbells that click against your teeth with each thrust. Jotaro hisses, head falling back. He loved it when you played with the piercings- loved it even more when you grabbed and squeezed his balls while you sucked him off. Your fingers brush against the soft skin of his taint as you massage his sack, eyes fluttering as you look up at him.

He’s cross eyed and cherry red, huffing and puffing; obviously fighting off the orgasm that’s fast approaching, in hopes you’ll cum before him. You pull back, drool leaking from the corners of your mouth, and whistle for his attention. Once Jotaro looks down at you, you grin and slap the leaking head of his cock against your tongue, a moan sounding as Star Platinum hits something deep inside you. After that... He’s done.

You watch his eyes roll back and his hips lurch as he cums, hot and thick, into your waiting mouth. Star Platinum- always connected to its user- lets out a shout of “Ora!” as it buries itself balls deep and fills you with cum as well. Stuffed from both ends, your eyes flutter closed as you bask in the feeling of being filled. Rough fingers fist your hair so Jotaro can fuck your mouth to milk every last drop out of himself then he shoves himself back so he can catch his breath. You’re on cloud nine as you swallow everything down, Star Platinum fading out of the room (with one sweet kiss to your sweaty hair) and leaving you with a huge load in your guts.

Jotaro joins you on the bed once his legs begin working again, face buried in the crook of your neck while he slides his soft dick into your abused hole. The questioning noise you make is drowned by a deep kiss, his teeth biting at your lower lip as he growls.

“Gonna let you rest, then I’m fucking the cum back into you. Make it frothy as hell,” he growls in your ear, and you squeal, clenching tight around him. You can’t help the grin that spreads over your face at the idea that suddenly fills your head, your fingers running through Jotaro’s soft curls.

“Maybe next time Star Platinum can fuck you- bet he’d love it,” you whisper to him, and bit your lip as the jerk of his hips, his cock fattening up inside you at the thought.

[lulu-tutu]

Hi hi! Can request a c!techno x reader (she/they) fanfic where the reader is on their period and is feeling really crappy about themselves because they feel rlly bloated and don’t like the way they look? Justsome fluffy stuff of techno cuddling the reader and scooping them up into his arms to make them feel better🥺anywho love your work and I hope you’re doing okay:)

Thank you so much for requesting, I’m doing really well and I really hope I can do some justice for this amazing idea 🥺And if any of you ever feel this way, please understand that you’re absolutely amazing in every way and you deserve happiness. I will adopt everyone of you and shower you with love <3

Pairing: Technoblade x Fem!Reader.

Warning(s): Obvious mentions of a period cycle, slight self loathing, didn’t proof read so have fun with that, also first time writing for Techno, let me know what you think!

Sweet Words

______________

You absolutely hated feeling this way, and you loathed the fact that your body had to suffer and undergo through the same pain every single month. Shuddering through another wave of nausea that passed through you, you shifted against the bed sheets that seemed to cling to your skin like paste with a tired groan, eyes clenched shut with nothing but the urge to sleep through your period behind them.

Digging your fingers into the mattress, you released a soft breath. While Technoblade wasn’t there to comfort you at that moment, promising before he left that morning to the nearest village that he would be as quick as he possibly could, there was still the lingering scent of him on his side of the bed. You suppose that would have to do while he was busy, it was better than nothing and somehow soothed your pain in the slightest of ways.

With the comforting smell of Techno surrounding you, the weight of exhaustion creeped up and tugged at your eyelids until they slipped shut and before you knew it, you were drifting off to the land of dreams, a place where your cramps were forgotten. You weren’t aware with how long you were asleep for, but it didn’t feel like it was long enough. The only reason you weren’t going to break down about it was the fact that you could feel the warmth of a familiar arm gently curl around your waist, ever so slowly pulling you back until you were pressed up against an even warmer chest.

“Sorry,” You peel your eyes open with a small content sigh and tilt your head just far enough back to see the apologetic wince of Techno, pink wisps of his fringe falling over his eyelashes, “Did I wake you?”

“Mm, no, don’t worry about it.” If he hadn’t have woke you up, you knew the cramps would have. You much preferred the idea of being woken up by his warmth and caring hands rather than the stabbing pains that made you want to tear out your own uterus. It was an easy choice, honestly.

Groaning as you shifted to roll onto your back for a more comfortable position, you side eyed Techno with a pursed smile while trying to wiggle up to rest against the headboard, “How’d the trip go? You weren’t out for that long, I thought you would have been at least a few more hours.”

“I promised you I would be back as fast as I could.” He watches your movements for a few seconds, eyeing the way you wince subtly before one of his hands travelled from your waist to your lower stomach, making sure not to put too much pressure on the tender spot. The sudden feeling of heat seeping into your skin was almost enough to have you melt into a puddle of mush. “That, and I only went out to get you something.”

You almost missed his words, lost in the heat that rolled from his gentle touch, fingertips rubbing soothing circles over your skin in a way that had your head spinning. He was your own personal heat pad, a beacon of light that swept away the waves of pain that came trembling through your aching body. Opening your eyes that you didn’t even register had closed, you gave a gentle hum, “You didn’t have to, you know. I’ve got everything I could ever need right here.” Your own hand was quick to envelope the one on your stomach, fingers weaving together.

With a light snort, Techno gave your hand a soft squeeze, “You don’t even know what I got you yet.” Keeping his hand in its place underneath your own, he twists his body around and reaches behind him, rummaging through something he had hidden on his side of the bed. He turns back to face you after a quick search and holds out his hand, “Here, I thought this would soothe some of your pain.”

“You got me chocolate?” The words you spoke came out as a quiet whisper, lips twitching up into a grin after the sudden shock had passed. “Techno…” Of course he wouldn’t tell you about this before he left. Anything to keep his stoic and pride in tact it seemed.

But as you stared down at the chocolate in his hand, you suddenly didn’t feel like it would help you. If anything, it would only bloat your already aching stomach. One bite of it and it would head straight to your hips, as if you needed to gain anymore weight as it was. Taking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you reach over and close Techno’s hand over the chocolate, your stomach already pinching painfully at your rejection of his gift.

“That’s really, really sweet, Tech… But, you can have it.” You watch as his eyebrows furrow in confusion, his eyes shifting from the chocolate that was still in his grip to your small apologetic smile. “I’m not really in the mood for something sweet.” Your uterus disagreed, making you flinch in surprise with a short hiss, both hands flying to your lower abdomen.

“(Y/n), it’ll help with the cramps. Phil told me-“

“Well Phil isn’t a woman, now is he?” You snap, head snapping back to his direction. You instantly regretted your tone, seeing Techno pull back in surprise. “Sorry, I’m sorry.” Sighing, you pull the covers up to your chest, snuggling back into them and turning onto your side, back facing your boyfriend. “I didn’t mean to say it like that, it’s just…”

“I know.” While you weren’t facing him, you could feel the gentle stare of Techno on the back of your head. He shuffles around behind you for a short minute before the warmth of his arms slide back around you, his chin settling nicely between your shoulder and neck. “Phil told me that your emotions would be all over the place too…”

You both sit there in silence, his breathing being the only thing you could really focus on. You hated this, you hated the fact that your own body would betray your actions, your choices and your own words. Its like you had no control, which you suppose was true in some ways.

“You’re beautiful, you know. Even when you’re mad at me.” His words vibrate through his chest and into your back, lips barely touching the shell of your ear as he continues speaking, “I have an idea on why you don’t want the chocolate, but I really think you should eat it. It’ll help your pain.” He places a tender peck to your neck, his fringe brushing past your cheek and tickling your nose.

“I did want it, I did.” You begin softly, hands running up and down one of his arms that hang from over your waist, “I just don’t think my body needs to feel any more sickly. I haven’t eaten all that much today but I feel bloated, I feel sick and I feel like I don’t deserve something that’ll take away the pain. I mean, it only last for a week, maybe a few days at least.”

“You deserve the world.” Your heart hammers painfully in your chest at his sincere spoken words, eyes fluttering closed as his hand moves away from your touch to reach over and gently cup your chin between his fingers, “You might only go through this pain for a few days, but its monthly. If there’s any way I could at least ease some of it, you know for sure I’m going to find a way. And what you said, about feeling bloated and not deserving of something that’ll take some of the pain away. I highly disagree.”

Pushing yourself to turn around and face him, you could barely stop the stinging sensation of tears building up behind your eyes at the tender words he spoke so delicately. It was something different coming from him, something other than the deep rooted and gruff voice of his. With your chin still being held between his fingers, he raised his other hand and caressed your cheek, thumb rubbing soothing circles over the apple of your cheek.

“I wish you could see the you that I see everyday. The woman that I get to wake up and fall asleep beside, she’s a warrior, she’s dependable, patient, deserving, she’s everything I need in my life and I need to keep that smile on her face for as long as I live.” His lip twitches upwards at your own watery grin, a choked laugh escaping you as you shake your head, “It’s true. All of it. You’re perfect, perfect to me.”

“Okay, okay!” You couldn’t hold back the waterworks anymore, the dam having already broken behind your eyes. Sniffling with a chuckle, you leaned happily into Techno’s touch, watching him behind glassy eyes as he wiped at the tears with his thumb, his smile widening at your laughter. “Gosh, you’re so cheesy. I love it.”

“Alright, don’t get ahead of yourself, nerd.” He briefly chuckles, leaning his head down to connect your foreheads together. “I’m only cheesy for you.” He leaves a chaste kiss to your wet lips, your eyes crinkling at the edges as you grin into it.

“Hey, you wanna share the chocolate with me?”

“For you, of course.”

https://ko-fi.com/lulututu

[keilemlucent]

prey and promises

 (NSFW)

hawks | takami keigo x reader 

word count: ~2.1k

keigo is a people pleaser at heart, and you’re his person. you want to try some new things in the bedroom. you do the math.

warnings: light restraints, light predator/prey (ish), praise kink, service dom keigo

a/n: people pleasing keigo is my kink, service dom keigo is my kink, here’s some pwp. this was originally my drabble for the exchange, but it got a wee bit long so it’s its own bastard now. enjoy some h word and happy valentine’s day loves!!!! 💗💗💗

“That too tight, dove?”

No, and honestly? Not tight enough.

The rope binding on your wrists was a bit too loose, a bit unpracticed, but a good effort despite all of that. Keigo really tried his best for you, and you could tell.

The bedroom was dim, for the sake of romance, suspense, or both. Only the flicker of a few perfectly placed jar and pillar candles lit the room, allowing Keigo’s wings to cast large, beautiful shadows across the room.

You watched, mesmerized by just his shadow.

That wasn’t mentioning the man who was straddling your hips, chest level with your face as he futzed with your bound wrists.

He worried to himself, nervously speaking just above breathing.

Who would’ve fucking thought, that number two, pro hero ‘Hawks’ was a goddamn sweetheart in bed?

He was a notorious playboy (wrong, but tabloids work harder than sinners on their knees), and unabashed flirt (true, but before you, he’d always been shit at the follow-through). Yet, he’d been worrying about the state of your bound arms for what had to be at least ten minutes.

As much as you appreciated the care, you were practically dripping onto the bed from all of the teasings he’d led up with (kissing, sucking, torturing your poor nipples until they were hard, flushed, and bitten.) It had been too long since you’d had the proper time to spoil each other, and Keigo was exploiting the opportunity for all it was worth.

Some time ago, he must’ve had the rope shipped to your shared apartment without you knowing. It wasn’t too thick, not too rough, just perfectly oiled and deep scarlet. It was worn by the time he’d brought it out to you that night, a surprise for you, but not him. He’d obviously been practicing knots in the little spare time he had.

It showed how much he cared, truly.

You’d mentioned, offhand, a month or two ago over a shared bottle of wine that you’d like to ‘spice things up’ in the bedroom when you had the chance to. Keigo had been intrigued, dug in a little more, and got you blushing and revealing a good handful of kinks.

And he delivered, the best he could anyway, with the experience and research he’d been able to put together.

“Not too tight at all,” You tug on the restraints, wiggling a bit below him, antsy and needy already. “Now get down here, or I’m gonna leave hickeys in some very visible places.”

Keigo ‘ooo’ed and flopped to rest his chest against yours, the chill of the barbels through his nipples making you shiver. He gives you a pleased smile, eyes sharp and half-lidded all at the same time, “Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Both, if you keep talking and not touching,” You really tried to keep your tone from getting whiney. Keigo was content, always content, to be a tease, and without your hands, it was even easier to fall to mush beneath him.

“Needy,” Keigo clicked his tongue, snapping the elastic of the garter over your thighs. With his weight over your hips, and your arms high and held to the headboard, there wasn’t much you could do other than writhe a bit and plead with your eyes.

“If you were in my position, you’d be the same way,” you hissed.

“Maybe,” He mussed, lips trailing over the skin of your throat.

Keigo stole any retort and the breath from your lungs as he chomped down on your neck (really, he bit down) and suck at the skin. The bruise he was leaving began to ache almost immediately, teeth kneading away even as you arched and gasped beneath him.

You bucked your hips, begging silently for just a bit more—

And Keigo growled against your pulse. His hands gripping the fat above your waist and pressing you into the mattress with his body weight.

His wings puffed up and outstretched before your eyes as your breaths became more labored with each moment.

He’s really fucking turned on.

Keigo pulled back to sit over your hips, pupils wide and having eaten the amber of his eyes long again.

You tried to grind up into him, desperate for just something—

And Keigo pressed you to the bed again, wings widening to cover the two of you as a low rumble broke from his throat. You swallowed dry and your lips fell open as you watched Keigo, somewhat in awe and very horny.

“Here’s how tonight’s gonna work,” Keigo sounded way too pleased that you’d finally stilled. “You’re gonna be the good girl I know you are and let me decide how and when you get to feel good. You can do that, can’t you?”

You didn’t have a lot of fight left in you, not with the way he was looking at you, not with the way his hands were stretching and squeezing over your curves.

The small part of your brain that was still functioning recalled your tipsy conversation from months before—

...

“I dunno,” You giggled, leaning on Keigo’s side. “I just think I’d be nice to feel a little bit smaller, and weaker. In like a hot way.”

“... Small and weak is hot to you?” Keigo’s word only slurred slightly.

“Nah, not like that!” You pushed against his shoulder, hiding your bashful grin in his bicep. “Like... Use me a bit, you know? However you want to fuck me up, fuck me up.”

...

Apparently, Keigo had taken your request to heart. Did some serious ruminating. And was planning on delivering.  

“I said,” His wings half-flapped (oh, you were fucked)— “‘You can do that, can’t you?’”

He ran the tips of his nails (talons) over your ribs, the fucking bastard.

The nail in the coffin was the way how he dragged them up and up. Over the curves of your sides, your tits, heaving chest, and collar bones to plant either hand on the side of your head.

And Keigo leaned over you, naked and leaking, wings extended high with a fucking delicious and terrifying gleam filling his eye.

The sharp talon on his thumb ran over your cheek, and your stomach dropped. You felt your cunt clench around nothing as you pulled at the restraints.

“Yes, y-yes, yes!” You sputtered, lost in the pitch of Keigo’s pupils. “I can do that, it, whatever you want, please.”

Keigo visibly shuddered when you begged, but you hardly noticed. You were far more focused on how he shifted a knee between your parted legs, nudging his own flush with your bare cunt.

“Then fuck yourself on my thigh.”

Your hips moved without thought, the muscles and flesh on your tummy flexing to get just a morsel of him.

“Oh, I think I like this,” His breath felt so fucking hot against your ear, you swore you were scalded. “You’re just so fucking gorgeous when you doing just what I want you to.”

A strained, little sound dribbles from your lips as you nod, ‘yes, yes, I’m sure I look nice but I need more’, turning your head to drag your lips over his cheekbone.

His feathers ruffled, wings fluttering and flexing, the primaries scraping the ceiling but neither of you had a mind to care. Keigo had never really had this energy before, and you were a fucking glutton for it. You needed more, more of him and whatever he was willing to give.

You were begging for it without even thinking about it.

Keigo sat back on his heels, chest and cheeks flushed enough to match his wings.

He was so fucking pretty.

You took him all in, lips parting and just a bit of drool spilling from the corner of your mouth. Just a little bit.

All the while, you kept grinding on his thigh, soaking Keigo in slick that he oh so fucking sinfully gathered up on two fingers that he then sucked clean.

Bastard, bastard—

And impatient bastard.

“Such a good little dove,” Keigo purred, palming his cock with his saliva-soaked hand. “My good little dove. I’m sure you want something to fill you up, don’t you? Tell me. Use that mouth of yours.”

And you spewed.

You slurred about how hot Keigo was like this, how much you needed his cock, because, I don’t know, for fuck’s sake, without it you might as well die. You licked your chapped lips as he grinned above you, more smug than you’d ever seen him.

And thank fucking god, he threw your legs over his shoulders and fucked into you clean with one, single motion.

You shrieked, stretched and stuffed without a moment to adjust but you didn’t fucking care. The burn was grounding, the heat spreading from your cunt to the tips of your toes and fingers as you tugged at the restraints, begging for more until your voice went hoarse.

And, as... predatory as Keigo was presenting himself, large and sharp and intimidating, he was ultimately still your dutiful lover who wanted nothing more than to have you ruined for anyone else on his thick, pretty cock.  

“FUCK!” Your voice broke high as you took Keigo’s cock, eyes rolling white as he moved, so fast— “K-Keigo!”

The tempo he set was something worse than brutal. It tore the breath from your lung with each slam of his hips. Each slap of skin on skin had a high moan ripping from your throat in time with the creek of the headboard. The way his cock hit everything so perfectly was overwhelming, but all the same you wanted to drown in it, take it between your ribs and absorb and it and be—

“Whose are you?”

His, Keigo’s, his, his, HIS—

“Y-Yours, yours, YOURS!”

Your vision sparked on the edges as you came, spin curling off the bed, back blown to high hell but you didn’t fucking care. All you could focus on was the pleasure of it all and the way Keigo didn’t slow—

The bastard sped up.

You sputtered something, a weak ‘too much!’, but with no safeword (no need to use it, you felt more alive on his cock than you had in a long time), Keigo kept up his pace, sweat pouring down his temples and feathers twitching blurrily in your vision.

A hand slipped between your bodies, “Y-You’re so perfect, baby, best f-fucking girl in the world for me.”

“Y-you’re best girl?” Your voice broke into a whine as pummeled that knot of nerves, your gut overheating in the best way—

“Yes, fuck, my best girl,” Keigo took only a moment of pause, catching his breath before continuing at a pace and depth you didn’t think you could take but you were— “My b-best, perfect, girl. You’re fucked for me, aren’t you?”

You nodded dumbly, watching Keigo’s bow forward with the curve of his spine.

“Good, good,” Keigo’s voice was just as rough as yours, weak for you and your spent, perfect body and self. “You take me so well, gonna take all of me so, so—”

The finger rolling your clit sped up, and heat shot through you, cunt clenching and sending the two of your tumbling with each other.

“GOOD!”

Keigo’s hips finally stuttered, slamming into yours once, twice, and third time before he spills into you, stuffing you so full you swear you can feel it in your tummy.

You were cresting at the same time, swimming in the sensation of him, slick soaking your thighs as Keigo gave a few shallow thrusts, stuffing you.

And you came down together.

You were only half lucid as Keigo pulled out, laying thick praise on you with words and little kisses to your undoubtedly sore legs. A feather or two loosened the ties around your wrists, so your arms could drop limply to your sides. The rope left the prettiest indentations that you made a not to ogle at when you were more present. 

Keigo flopped beside you in the sheets, greedy hands pulling you close to mingle in sweat, sound and breath.

“So, how was I?” Keigo asked.

Someone less practiced in knowing him would assume his tone sounded over-confident, the lazy smirk he was wearing only adding to his incredible acting.

But you could tell from the tension still bound up in his wings, and the little crinkles between his brows, and the thick swallow he gives you, that he is indeed asking you, genuinely, ‘how did I do?’.

You replied with a deep breath, fumbling a bit to grab his hips, fingers dancing up his spin to rest the roots of his wings between your spread fingers.

“You did so good, Kei’, please fuck me like that again sometime—” It would probably be smart to let your very blown out back heal, but—

Keigo kissed you, hard and hot with a hand pulling your jaw just right.

“‘Sometime’?” Keigo murmured, nibbling your bottom lip, the fucking whore. “Why not now?”

You had no reason to refuse, so why not?

[watermelonlovershigh]

You Get Sick in the Back of an Uber

AN: so this was a story i have had in my drafts for like three months and just never found motivation to finish it. i decided to finish this first out of my drafts because it was one of the ones that had the most already written for it. unlike some of my others that don't have much written yet. and this was supposed to be longer but i got lazy and ended the end with no dialogue and shorted the story. but i guess that's fine because the main part of this was the uber incident and not necessary the aftercare. (i just love to always include aftercare whether its with sex or getting sick. unless its a blurb) @harryhoney-bee suggested number 1. on my voting post so thank you for requesting i finish this one shot idea that was in my drafts.

This story contains: puke, drunken person, caring husband

{ husband!harry - dad!harry - Grammys 2021 Harry - 4 kids (any age you imagine) }

word count: 1765

When you drink too much at the Grammys, you end up having to get sick in the uber ride home and Harry cares for you.

-------------------------

Back Story-

After the Grammys, Harry and I decided to go to the little after party that was being held for the Grammy attendees. We knew we couldn't stay too long because we had to get back home to our kids. They were currently with our babysitter but she couldn't stay all night. She has to go home at some point. So we made sure to watch the time.

At the afterparty, drinks were flowing. I haven't drank in a while due to the fact I had been pregnant not too long ago. This was the first night I was allowed to drink and I decided to do just that. Harry was aware of me drinking and promised to watch and take care of me. Though we were at this afterparty for him, he wanted me to let loose and have some fun as well.

But what he wasn't expecting was for me to drink the amount I did. I didn't mean to go over board. It just kind of happened. People handing out drinks left and right and next thing I knew, I was drunk. Not tipsy, drunk. When Harry noticed how drunk I was, he decided it's best to go home.

And because Harry also had drank some alcohol, he wasn't in a state to drive either. By no means was he as drunk as me though. Maybe just tipsy but he didn't want to risk it. So he decided to call an uber for us.

--------------------

Current-

We're sitting in the back of the uber on our way home. It's about an hour drive since the city is crowded with traffic due to the Grammys. Right about now is when I regret drinking any alcohol tonight. Because I haven't drank in over a year, my body isn't use to the poison running through my veins. So you could say I'm a lightweight now. My head is throbbing. My vision is blurry. My stomach is turning. Lets just say I regret all my decisions tonight that lead to me feeling this way.

"Harrrrry I don't feel good." I manage to slur out.

"You probably should have stuck to champagne instead of vodka my love." Harry responds, while stroking my hair out of my face in a gentle manner.

Another 10 minutes pass and I'm feeling very nauseous. I'm trying to focus on my breathing but it's not working.

"Harry my stomach hurts." I whisper with hooded eyes.

"Like you're gonna be sick?" Harry questions with panic.

I nod my head and hear Harry asking the driver if he can pull over.

"Can you pull over? My wife is feeling ill." Harry frantically questions the uber driver up front.

"I'm sorry sir but this freeway is packed and there is no way I can get to the side of the road right now." the driver says with a bit of an attitude.

Hearing that made me and Harry both start to panic.

"Well do you have any sick bags in here?" my husband asks.

"Sorry I don't." the driver retorts in a uncaring tone. What kind of uber driver doesn't carry sick bags for when drunks potentially need a ride but feel like they are going to be sick?

I just barley hear Harry let out a frustrated sigh and turn to me.

"Try and relax love. Take deep breaths for me, alright." Harry whispers while rubbing my back as I'm slumped over his body, too disoriented to even hold my head up.

About 3 minutes later, I feel vomit rise up my throat. There isn't much I can to do. The driver already said he couldn't pull over, nor does he have sick bags. I sit up from my slouched position and clasp a hand over my mouth. My legs are bouncing up and down. I'm trying desperately not to puke but I'm doing a poor job. Harry is sitting up with me, trying to comfort me but his words are all a blur at this point.

"If you have to be sick darling, let it out. I'll pay to get this uber cleaned, okay." Harry states in my ear. I know he'd rather not have me puke on the floor of the uber, right beside him, but he can tell I'm struggling and in discomfort.

Hearing those words was all the conformation I needed. I remove my hand from my mouth and let out a gush of alcoholic bile spew from my mouth and onto the backseat floor board. Harry gathers my hair in his hands so it's not in my face. My vomit splatters all over my legs and on the bottom of Harry's Gucci suit. I'd feel terrible about that if I wasn't so out of it, but my mind is a mushed up blur.

"Shhh, that's it. You're alright." Harry reassures me. The uber driver lets out a sigh of disgust, but this is truly his fault that I'm throwing up in his uber right now anyways.

Heave after heave, I let out more of the alcohol that was poisoning my system, right onto the floor. It's not a pretty sight. I'm having a cold sweat and my body is trembling. Though Harry has a weak stomach, when it comes to his wife (me) or his kids, he can always handle a bit of throw up. Or a lot like currently. It's like a fatherly/husband instinct that comes over him and he feels only adrenaline, not yuck.

Finally I feel my stomach relax and I sit up, breathing heavy with vomit dripping down my chin. Without thinking, I wipe it off with the back of my hand and smear it on my already ruined dress. "Feeling better?" Harry asks in a low tone.

"Mhmm." I hum, not really feeling like talking. My drunken brain has cleared up some from the majority of the alcohol being out of my system, but I still feel the after affects drinking brings. I just lean my head on Harry's shoulder for the rest of the ride home and allow the cool breeze to blow on my face. The uber driver did us all a favor by rolling the windows down so we didn't suffocate on the nasty smell of my sick.

---------------------

After-

When we arrived home, Harry payed the uber driver, not giving much of a tip and told him that he'd have someone clean his car out in the morning. As well as a half assed apology for my incident beings it could have been prevented. Then carefully, Harry lifted me out the uber and carried me into our Los Angeles home. Good thing our kids were all asleep because they shouldn't have to see their mother like this. Covered in puke and half drunk.

Harry took me to our bathroom and quickly ran down stairs to pay our babysitter, hoping she didn't question my appearance when she saw my state as we came through the front door. She didn't thankfully and left soon after her check was handed to her. Harry came back up to where he left me and helped me clean up and get ready for bed.

He stripped us of our vomit covered clothes and helped me into the big walk-in shower we have in our master bathroom. Then after he delicately washed our bodies along with my hair, he helped us out and dried us off. We brushed our teeth, me with the help of my husband because I was still a bit dizzy. After we're clean of sick and smelt fresh, he helped me put some panties and a t-shirt over my nude body and boxers on himself; just incase our kids woke up and needed us for whatever reason.

Harry helped me into our large bed and tucked me in, bending down to kiss my forehead. Then he walked down to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water and a bucket incase I needed to be sick again at some point through-out the rest of the early morning. When he had all the items he intended to grab, Harry came back to our bedroom where I was already passed out with sleep.

So he just set the water on my night stand and the bucket on the floor, beside my side of the bed. Then Harry quietly exited our room and went to each of our child's bedrooms to make sure they were fine and still asleep like they should be, which they thankfully were.

When everything was done and taken care of, Harry turned the bedroom lights out and slipped in the covers with me. He helped my body scoot over and I cuddled into his warm body. I didn't realize it in my state of sleep but I knew when I awoke, I'll be thinking about how grateful I am to have a wonderful husband like Harry.

He takes such good care of me. He didn't get upset that I drank too much on his special night and accidently got wasted. He never once got upset that I basically got throw up on his expensive suit tonight in the uber. He didn't get annoyed that he had to shower both me and him past midnight, though he was exhausted. Harry loves taking care of me (and our kids) and wouldn't wish for any other life. Even when his life becomes chaotic and stressful. Harry loves his family dearly and his family love him just as much or more.

Masterlist (regular smut, fluff & sicfics)

My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST

Harry Styles Series - One Shots & Blurbs Masterlist

Harry Styles blurbs, concepts, & short stories Masterlist- (short writing with little to no dialog)

[youhadmeatfanfics]

Dragon Lord x gn! Reader

A/n: It’s been at least 6 years since I’ve written fanfiction. So I’m pretty rusty and the grammar might not be great. But I hope you guys enjoy!(Please let me know if I got something wrong!)

Tw: fluff, slight cursing, injury, slight spoilers if you haven’t finished the main story.

Word count: 1817

This journey has been hell, especially when Tina decided to GET RID OF THE FUCKING OCEAN. Now I have to walk instead; Why the hell couldn’t we keep the ocean? It would have made things easier but it’s Tina. What can you expect? Hearing those three are something else, but at least they’re entertaining. Someone would beg to differ though.

As I was walking along the bottom of the Nocean, I went a bit off road to just sit down and take a breather. But as I was enjoying my peace and quiet time, the Dragon Lord wanted to ruin that. “You finally taking a break, Fatemaker? I’m surprised, since you seem to like playing this role so much.” He suddenly said out of nowhere. Well, goodbye sweet silence. “So what? Everyone needs a break here and there. Especially when I’m on a quest to save the world from you.” I responded. “Save the world from me? I am honored, Fatemaker.” He joked. “Sure you are, horns.” I said in a sarcastic voice. “Horns? Who are you calling horns?!” He yells in a ‘How dare you’ way. “Who do you think?” “My name is not Horns, it’s Dragon Lord.” “Ok, but I like horns.” I reply and he went quiet.

For a moment, I thought I offended him and thought he was gonna send some enemies my way. I was about to apologize but he spoke first, “Whatever, call me what you want. Just don’t say it in front of people.” He finally responded back. Relieved, I smiled and nodded. “Alright, Horn!” I said happily and got up to set up camp. We continue to have a small conversation while I set up camp and after I was done. I took a well deserved sleep.

*Time-skip*

‘This is bad!’ I thought in a panic. I’ve had many battles but this one is becoming a bit too much for me. Skeletons, seawargs and coiled all around me. Too many enemies at once. How am I gonna make this?

As I swing my weapon to the nearest enemy to at least push it back from me, a skeleton suddenly grabbed my left arm. As I turn my focus to the skeleton, a seawarg appears from behind me. How did I not notice this big bastard?! Before I had anytime to react, the seawarg slashed my right side with its sharp claws. I scream out in pain and fall on my butt. The skeleton that’s still holding my arm was about to strike again, but I was quicker this time. I block his attack and was able to finish him off with a final swing. The seawarg was about to attack again, but I slice him from below to above. Catching the seawarg off guard and knocking it to its side. I rush to cover as I hold my side, trying to stop the blood as mush as I can. But the pain was so excruciating that it made it more difficult to put pressure on it. I then hear more enemies approaching me. ‘I won’t survive if I stay and fight with this injury. I have to escape!” I thought in a panic as I looked around for an escape route. I found one and I made a dash for it. I was able to escape the area and make pretty good distance from them. Unfortunately, the adrenaline was slowly leaving me. I was becoming extremely tired and there was more blood coming out of my injury. I sat down, panting from sheer exhaustion.

‘I can barely move and I’m so tired. I have to take care of this injury, if I don’t, I’ll die in my sleep from blood loss.’ I thought, but I couldn’t move my hands anymore. I just sat there, holding my right side. Then I heard a voice. “Fatemaker…are you ok?” Asked the Dragon Lord in a concerned voice, which surprised me but I was more focused on staying awake. “I’m…fine. Just a little scratch…no worries.” I assured him while panting slightly. “Oh, yeah, sure. Just a little scratch. Definitely not a giant claw injury that’s the size of your head that’s full of blood!!” He said in a very sarcastic tone, but there was a hint of worry in his voice that I caught. “Horns, please, don’t yell right now.” I cried, hoping that he would not yell anymore. “Sorry, but that is not just a simple scratch.” he apologized, “You need to bandage that quickly before it get infected or you’ll die of blood loss.” He stated.

Why is he so worried about me?

“Why do you care? You’re my enemy. I thought you were supposed to hate me and laugh when I get heavily injured.” I snapped at him. “Why are you worried about me?” I said in a much softer tone than I did before. He stayed quiet after that. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just this damn wound is-“ before I could finish my sentence, I suddenly felt lightheaded. I heard movement in front of me, like something was swerving, then it stopped. I wanted to look up but my eyelids were so heavy that I could barely keep them open. Then I heard footsteps coming towards me. Panic was setting in, someone found me. Are they an enemy or ally? I try to at least get up but all I can do is begin to fall on my side. As I was about to fall to the floor, an arm suddenly grabbed me before I fell. Whoever showed up saved me from further damage. The stranger sat me back down as I was before and I felt…safe. The second that feeling of relief hit me I was out like a light.

I woke up with a nice breeze on my face. I could feel the warmth of the sun around me, but not on my skin. Something was shading me from the Sun. I slowly open my eyes, I look around to see where I was. I remember what happened before I passed out. Fighting, bad injury, shelter, foot steps, arms and passing out.

.

.

.

Wait

.

.

.

As I fully remember what happened, I now feel an arm that is wrapped around me. I look to right and see the last person I thought I would see next to me like this.

Dragon Lord

Right next to me…asleep.

My eyes widen in shock to see him here. Shouldn’t he be at his pyramid? Why is he here? Wait…why is his arm around me?! But not only that, his wing was around me as well!

I look down to see my right side bandaged up. Same with some other minor wounds around me. Did he do this? Why did he help me? I was gonna loose my mind if I kept asking questions like this. So instead, I gently nudged him to wake him up. ‘Holy shit, he’s tall.’ I though in amazement.

He finally wakes up after I nudged him a couple of times. He opened his eyes and looked around for a bit until his eyes landed on me. It took him a second to register that it’s me and his eyes widen in shock. We both stayed there, staring at each other. The shock leaves my body and the flood of questions barge in. But I try to keep my cool and decided to ask only a few. “Did you patch me up?” I stupidly asked, who else would it be? But I needed to make sure. It took him a couple of seconds to respond since he still a bit stunned. “Uh…yes. I bandaged your wound.” He replied. I don’t know why, but relief spread throughout my body. He looked down to his arm still wrapped around me and he instantly pulled away. I frowned a bit but I quickly put on a smile. “Well, thank you. I would’ve died if you didn’t.” I beamed, “But, if you don’t mind me asking, why did you?” I asked. That question stunned him a bit. “I…don’t know,” he said looking down to the ground, “When I saw you in so much pain. Something in me was trying to reach out to you.” He finished. I was so…I don’t even think the words shocked or stunned even compare to what I’m feeling right now. He…genuinely wanted to help me? “I couldn’t just let you die there. Even thought you would’ve most likely come back, I still had this strong feeling to save you.” He added with so much honesty in his voice. I couldn’t believe it. I smile as my face softened, “Thank you for saving me, Horns.”

He looked at me in surprise and also a bit of annoyance. “You’re…welcome.” I gave him a bright smile and sat closer to him. He was stunned but slowly put his arm and wing around me once again. We stayed there in comfortable silence for a while until I spoke first.

“You know Horns, I never hated you. I actually was really interested. Yeah I was kinda mad that you killed Butt Stallion, but I was still happy that you stayed and talked with me. You’re really funny and interesting to talk to.” I confessed. “You’re weird.” “Not as much as you.” I snapped back and he laughed. “I don’t hate you either. Actually, I’ve been trying to save everyone from Tina. Even you.” He confessed. “Save us from Tina? Why?” I mean, I could understand why. But it can’t be that bad, right? “It’s best I don’t tell you right now. But I will soon. I don’t want to ruin this.” I raise an eyebrow. “Ruin what?” I asked curiously and he looked away. It took me a second to realize what he was talking about.

He didn’t want to ruin this moment with me.

But does he mean this as a peaceful moment or more? I decided to test it. I waited for the right moment to strike. When I thought the moment was right, I leaned up and gave him a soft, long kiss on the cheek. He froze at my action. I pull away and look at him. Once he snapped out of it, he looked down, bashful. “Can you do that again?” I’ve never imagine I would hear him say that so shyly!

I smile brightly and nod. “Of course, Horns!” I wrap my arms around his neck and give him lots of kisses. He pulls me closer to him and I finally get my answer. I give him one final kiss next to his lips. I sit on his lap and lean on him. He holds me close to him, so gentle and caring. While being careful of my wound. I was gonna fall asleep until, “You need to come up with a better nickname.” He said while smirking as I laughed.

[kimnjss]

OOH DRABBLES!? Can you please do one from groupie love and yn is like whining for Hobi to finish working in the studio so he puts her on his lap and fingers her or something and then she gets all tired and falls asleep

groupie love drabble. explicit. 1.5K words.

>>

you've been here all day. not even an exaggeration, you've been here all day. it was a cute idea on paper. showing up at the studio unannounced to surprise your boyfriend, he always loved when you popped in... especially if you came with snacks. with the hopes of him saying 'fuck it' and turning in early, you bring more than just snacks.

dressed in the dress you know he loves to see you in, a pastel-colored mini that hugged the soft lines of your body nicely. hair pulled back to show off the dazzling necklace he had got for you for one anniversary or another. and then there was the kicker... two large bento boxes in hand with his name on it.

hoseok turns for no more than a few seconds, just enough time to flash you that pretty smile of his. he mouths something, but you don't catch it too focused on the lack of excitement in his features. and then he's turning back to the computer as if you're not standing there waiting for his attention.

maybe he didn't notice it was you. setting the food down on the table, you're moving to stand behind him. a single manicured finger poking into his shoulder just before you're leaning into his view. “helloooo!” nose scrunching at the sight of the large headphone covering his ear, you don't hesitate to pull it back. “baby. you didn't see me?”

all he does is nod, gently pulling the earphone from your grip to secure it back in place. he does, though, lean up to press a soft kiss to your lips – keeping the pout from fully forming. “give me a minute, princess. i'm almost done,” he smiles softly, hand reaching up to pat your head in the way that he does before he was turning his attention back to the monitor.

that was hours ago. the sun had set, and his food had gone cold. you've gone from restless to annoyed at least ten times and you were just seconds from flicking objects at the back of his head. it's bobbing along to the beat of whatever song he's making and while you loved the sight of your boyfriend doing what he loved, you can't help but roll your eyes.

“hoseokkkk!” his name dragged out through a huff as you're hopping back up. “are you done yet?” words falling on deaf ears, he doesn't even budge. you're stomping in his direction, arms crossed over his chest. “are you done yet?” you repeat, stood beside him this time and he doesn't even look!

you're reaching for his ear, but he's quicker than you, jerking his head to the side before you can touch it. oh, so now he wants to acknowledge you. it's an obvious sign to let him work, but you can't bring yourself to care. so once again, you're reaching out – this time for the wire that connects his headphones to the computer. you're tugging it before he can bat your hand away. “are you done yet?”

the angry expression on his face melts into a mildly annoyed one when his eyes land on the pout of your lips at how big and sad your eyes are. “i said one minute, baby.” he speaks much softer than he initially intended.

“you said that three hundred-fifty-three minutes ago,” that has a laugh falling from his lips, eyes shifting to the computer screen where the time is displayed. well after eleven at night and if he remembered correctly, you had come barreling in around five. now he felt bad, it had only felt like a few minutes since you got here.

he's turning his chair to face you fully, arms reaching out to wrap around your waist. easily pulling your body toward his, he's able to maneuver your body into his lap. “i'm sorry, love. i just got caught up... i'm almost done, though.” that's obviously not what you wanted to hear, because you're huffing again, moving to stand from his grip.

hoseok is quickly tightening his arms around your body, keeping you pinned to him. “just a little longer, i promise. why don't you sit in my lap while i finish?” he offers with an all too convincing smile. it doesn't take long for you to loosen up, allowing him to pull you comfortably between his legs before he's turning to face the screen again.

you stay like that for twenty minutes. his hand resting innocently on your stomach as he plays around with the track in front of him. your back is pressed into his chest, the soft breaths he lets out tickling the side of your neck. he's humming, tapping his fingers against your stomach and although you know he's still 'in the zone', it's much better than being sat on that uncomfortable couch.

it's calming, being cradled by him. the way you sink into his chest is involuntary, head resting on his shoulder just so you're able to nuzzle your face in the crook of your neck. the feeling of your soft lips against his skin is what snaps him out of his musically induced trance. you leave a trail of soft kisses, mixing in a few mind-numbing swipes of your tongue.

one hand resting on the other side of his neck, holding him in place as your mouth moves. he doesn't even have it in him to remind you that he has work to do because your mouth feels so good and he can't keep his mind from wandering to how good it feels in other places.

the hand on your stomach moves on its own accord, gliding down the front of your body until his fingers are finding the skin of your thigh. fingers gripping the flesh underneath them, eyes fluttering as you invite your teeth to the party. you're wiggling above him, ass just barely brushing against his covered cock.

that was the farthest thing from your mind, though, your real focus was spreading your legs apart for the next thing that you wanted from him. free hand reaching for his on your thigh, leading it underneath the hem of your dress until it's completely covering your mound.

“fuck,” he's groaning, fingers making quick work to nudge your panties to the side. he finds your clit instantly, the pads of his fingers rubbing slow circles into it. the breathy moans you let out fan over his ear, urging him on. toying with you until your hips are rolling into his touch, slit growing wetter with each push of his finger.

it's not until you're dripping, squirming underneath his touch does he reach down. the tips of his fingers finding your entrance and slipping in with ease. sharp teeth sinking into the skin of his neck to muffle the whine he knows you want to let out. so wet and warm around his fingers, it's a bummer it's not his dick buried inside of you instead.

this was good enough for now, though. he pushes his way past your walls until his knuckles meet your wetness. the pace he sets is slow at first, allowing you to get yourself together, but the moment you're rolling your tongue onto the fresh bite marks – he's picking up the pace.

pulling a gargled curse from your lips as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. you try, desperately, to keep up, hips rolling and bucking into his palm. “hobi-,” your hand searches for something to grip on, going from his thigh to his wrist to your breast. eyes fighting to stay open as the pleasure washes through your body.

you're panting, chanting for him to keep going, so of course, he slows down. fingers reaching deep inside of you at a much slower pace. he's finding the rough patch of skin deep inside of you, teasing it at first before full-on pressing his fingers into it. you're not truly falling apart until his fingers are reaching down to tug on your clit, in rhythm with the way he presses into your gspot.

“already?” he teases, feeling the way your walls tighten around your fingers. smiling smugly but feigning confusion as if he's not speed rolling you to the edge. “let me have a kiss, baby.” he requests and even though your brain is basically mush, you're able to pull it together enough to press your lips against his.

he licks into your mouth, sucks on your lips, swallows every last one of your whiny moans up until you're pulling back to let out a scream. fingers sped up enough to cause a ripple in your thighs and you feel the snap throughout your entire body. incoherent sentences falling from your lips as your body moves in tandem with his fingers.

although his pace gradually comes to a stop, he's not pulling his fingers out until your whines have turned to soft sighs. head heavy with no choice but to lay it on his shoulder, eyes hooded and a dopey smile on your face. hoseok is craning his neck to get a good look at your face, a grin lighting up his features. “feel good?”

you're not sure you remember how to talk, so you're simply nodding your head. a sleepy giggle leaving your lips as you move your face further into your neck. he says something else, but you can't place what it is or what it means – sleeping taking over your body.

[struggling-with-time]

Rainy days [Corpse x reader]

Paring: Corpse husband x Female!reader

Summary: “corpse x fem!reader ( she’s also a youtuber ) where they are just friends for a few years, but reader has been developing feelings for a while now. with corpse’s fan base growing so quickly, there’s also a lot of growing attention from other girls ( fans & other social media influencers ). corpse is happy with all the attention, while it is breaking the reader’s heart more every day. basically, super angsty lol and it’s totally up to you how you want to end it!” requested by anon

“please make one where like the reader and corpse fought so its like raining outside and yk the cliche type” requested by anon

Warnings: Angst and jealousy, kinda sad, I’m sorry

Words: 1.8k

A/N: Open for requests. Two requests for one.

Read part 2 cloudy afternoons here

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You’re happy for Corpse, of course you are. What good friend wouldn’t be happy for their friend when they suddenly start to shoot for the stars? You definitely would. Right? It’s not like it hurts to watch him take in all these girls that throw themselves at him, he has never been happier for the many years you’ve known him. His YouTube channel is finally paying the bills for him, and you’re happy he doesn’t have to fear getting an eviction note, for dancing on the line a little too long. You’re happy that he has all these new friends. You’re happy he’s enjoying himself. You’re happy, because he’s happy.  So why does it hurt so much?

You’ve had feelings for your best friend for quite some time. You tried to push them away, which in return just seemed to cultivate them and make them stronger. You tried your damn best just to be his quirky happy best friend that was along with him for the ride. You never minded being the one to pick up the pieces when he fell apart. He would do the same for you… He would do the same for you, right?

You wipe away a tear escaping from your eye. You’re sitting in the shower crying on the floor. This is really what you’ve become? You think to yourself, as you lean your head back against the wall, looking up at the wooden ceiling.

He would do the same for you…

You dryly laugh to yourself, of course he wouldn’t, because then he would have known when you started pulling away. You wipe the tears away, get up and rise off your face once more, before stepping out. You look at where your mirror used to be. You took it down, not able to face yourself was easier than to accept this is just how you look permanently now. Dark circles underneath your eyes, as they’ve sunken quite a bit.

You kind of forgot how you really looked sometimes, until you caught yourself in something reflective, like your pc when it ran out of power, or your metallic glazed mug. You smile bitterly at the memory, Corpse had bought it to you when you reached 100.000 subs on YouTube, saying the play button wasn’t enough. It used to be a prized possession, now it was one of your worst.

You’re happy you build your YouTube brand on variety gaming, without a face cam. You couldn’t imagine having to explain away the way you looked. The monotone in your voice was hard enough.

I was just having an off day

Sorry, kind of sick today

My microphone isn’t picking up my voice probably.

You sigh to yourself as you collect your phone, and your empty bag. The fridge doesn’t fill itself. You’re pretty sure your fans caught onto something being wrong by the 4th excuse. You lock the door behind you, and glace up at the sky. It seems to be getting darker. You sigh as you realize you’re not going to be back home before it’s raining.

You walk the short distance down to the bus as you wait for it to arrive, you scroll through your twitter feed. It’s filled with pretty girls, much prettier than you are, throwing themselves at Corpse. You get a sudden urge to throw your phone into the passing traffic, but money has been tight lately with your down tuning of content, to take more time to be able to self-pity in the living room with a shitty romance show going on.

You really lost your best friend to your own feelings, huh. What an anticlimax.

You step onto the bus, not noticing the black dressed, black masked guy in the end of it. Watching you intentionally. If you had been able to read minds, you would hear the ongoing battle in his head on whether or not to approach you.

The bus pulls up the grocery store and you get off. Not sparing the other two passengers getting off a second thought. You pull your jacket closer together, as the wind starts getting colder. You finally arrive in the store, just a few seconds before the rain starts to drop.

The calming ominous music of the store fills your eyes, as you focus on getting something edible that isn’t directly just sugar with more sugar. You pick your groceries carefully, nothing that needs a lot of preparation. But if you eat one more tv meal, you’re going to throw it up. You’re too distracted by what pasta to choose, that you don’t realise the guy in black has now passed you for the 5th time, while you’re in aisle 9.

You choose both and head for the register. You sigh as you watch the long line, there’s only one way out, and you’re certainly not leaving your groceries now. You step in line. And pull out your phone. The lock screen taunting you with a picture of you and Corpse mushed together somehow in his gaming chair, you’re pretty sure it was Dave that took the photo. You shake your head and check the time. The bus just left. You sigh knowing there is a little over an hour before the next one leaves. Fucking public transport.

It finally becomes you, you watch the price tick up further and further. You take your card out. Swipes it through.

Declined.

What? You try it again

Declined.

C’mon, it has got to work. You try again

Declined.

And again

Declined.

And again

Declined.

You smile apologetic to the cashier, as you start to figure out what you won’t be needing too much.

“I’ll pay for her.”  A deep voice speaks further down the line. You know exactly the person whose voice that is.

“Please, you don’t have to-“ You watch as Corpse steps out of the line and puts a box of cereal on the register for the cashier to ring up with the rest of your stuff.

“I don’t-“

“That’ll be 79 dollars and 32 cents, please.” The cashier ignores you.

Corpse pays and gets the receipt, knowing you’re going to beg him for you to pay him back. You used to do the same when you were little. Corpse stands by as he watches you pack your groceries, and he waits for you. He barely recognized you in the bus. It’s been weeks since you last spoke, and even longer since you last saw each other. He knows you were getting bad, but not this bad. He don’t know why he never reached out he knows he should. But there are too many unsaid things hanging in the air, and neither of you wanting to be the one to pick the first one.

He reaches out to take one of the two bags. But you take it right underneath him, and walk to the doors, leaving him to hurry after or be left behind.

“Y/N I-“

He gets surprised by the rain, he hadn’t noticed the darkening sky earlier. You keep walking until he calls out after you again.

“Y/N! Please!”

You stop in you tracks. To think you had missed hearing your name from his lips, he uses it like it’s not the only thing you have left that’s your own.

He jogs the remaining distance and puts his hand on your shoulder, and you let him turn you around to make him face you. He’s not sure if it’s the rain, or if it’s tears that’s starting to fall. He takes the rest of your face in, the dark circles, the clear weight loss. He know, you don’t know how much you don’t look like yourself.

“Listen, thank you, I’ll pay you back next month. But if you’re not going to say anything, I have places to be, and-“

He puts his hand on her chin caressing it. She suddenly looks so small standing there in front of him. You quickly pull yourself back, wanting to lean into his touch, but knowing that it would only make what hurts, hurt more in the end.

“What did you want?” You snap at him. And something snaps in him too, as his brows furrows together.

“Oh I don’t know. Say hi to my best who just up and disappeared from the face of earth two months ago. I wonder what I want.” He snaps back at you, his deep voice nearly emitting a growl of frustration from him.

“So what, that’s what it takes 2 months before you want to find me. Did you get tired of all those girls throwing themselves at you? Did you get tired of your new friends you just cast me aside from? Did you get tired of all the money? Please do tell.” You stretch out your arms in a welcoming stance.

Corpse takes a step back, you’ve never yelled at him like this before. Tears streaming down your face as you’re soothing anger.

“…You think I threw you aside?” Corpse sucks in a breath waiting for your anger to come at him, but instead you suddenly look small again.

“Didn’t you Corpse? The excuse why I could never come over anymore, why you never had time. I was happy for you, you know, I supported you all the way. Heck I even fucking loved you, and you cast me aside, you up and threw away so many memories and a long friendship, just because I suddenly didn’t fit into your new group.” You look him straight in the eyes. “Corpse, I’m tired okay. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t keep picking up your pieces and help you reassemble yourself, for you to keep casting me aside. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t need your pity; I don’t need anything from you. I’ll make sure you get the money first thing next month.”

She takes a step away from him, the before intimate atmosphere now fully escaped.

“All I ask is that we part here. I love you too much to watch you fall apart again.” Your voice is trembling as you turn around heading for the bus stop, leaving Corpse in the rain to fend for himself.

[chudleycanonficfest]

t-shirt

Day 8, Story #1 is by @accio-broom

Title: t-shirt Author/Artist: accio-broom Pairing: Ron Weasley / Hermione Granger Prompt: Cuddling Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): None

In the morning when you wake up, I like to believe you are thinking of me And when the sun comes through your window, I like to believe you’ve been dreaming of me.

Hermione Granger isn’t the kind of girl who struggles to get out of bed, especially when there are pressing Head Girl duties to attend to. Her to-do list is as long as her arm, she has five essays to write and a whole raft of other bits and bobs she needs to see to.

But right now, with the sun peeking through the edges of the heavy curtains surrounding her four-poster bed, she wants to bask in the aftermath of her dream just a little longer. Even as her dorm mates start to clatter around the room, getting ready for the day, she snuggles deeper under her duvet and shuts her eyes, trying her best to get back to her own little world.

Is Ron doing exactly the same thing right now? He loves his bed, and always complains when she forces him out of it earlier than he wants. Is he having the same lovely dreams as her? Probably not, he’s been away on an extremely secretive training mission for the past five days, and he isn’t a fan of sleeping on the floor. Still, she likes to think that even the memory of her has been keeping him warm at night, even if he isn’t comfortable wherever he is.

Dreaming.

Her dreams last night were amazing. 

They were in the Gryffindor common room, sprawled across the comfiest sofa next to the fire. He’d untucked her blouse, and one of his hands was under the white material, massaging her bra-clad breasts whilst he buried the other somewhere underneath her school skirt. He was only wearing his plaid pyjama bottoms, which were doing nothing to hide his growing excitement, and the faded orange Cannon’s t-shirt he often wore to sleep.

She loves that top. It’s threadbare and far too small for him, accentuating his muscles, and exposing patches of his skin. She likes to wind her fingers through the holes, count the freckles she can see as they explore each other’s bodies. Dream Hermione couldn’t get enough of Ron’s skin; she licked and sucked at his neck while her hips lifted to press against his, grounding into his erection and causing the delightful friction she can never get enough of.

Despite their public position, there had been no panicking about being caught or interrupted. She was consumed in Ron, and he in her. The most perfect dream.

But it was all a dream. Hermione is still at school and Ron is in the Auror Academy, and they are facing months of separation. If he does well in his mission, he’ll pass his assessments and move on to the next stage. There will be no passionate make-out sessions, heavy petting, or sex anywhere until her Easter holidays at the earliest, and it definitely won’t be happening at school.

I know, ‘cause I’d spend half this morning, thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in I should know, ‘cause I’d spend all the whole day, listening to your message I’m keeping.

With a heavy huff, she rolls onto her back and reaches under the mattress for the pristine parchment she has hidden there.

Over the years she’s known Ron, she could safely say that he was rubbish at writing to her. Summer breaks and Christmas holidays passed without a single word from him. But their newly fledged relationship, combined with her leaving in September, seemed to inspire a completely different side to the boy. If he was at home, she could now expect Pidwidgeon almost every morning, and each letter the owl delivered was soppier and longer than the last.

It is clear that Ron misses her.

She finds her wand under her pillow and pulls it out, tapping it against the paper before discarding it again. It begins to unfold, revealing a whole pile of messages from her beau, Ron’s familiar unintelligible scrawl decorating every inch of them. If she hadn’t spent the last six years deciphering his essays, she might have struggled to read them, but now she devours every word, the familiarity somewhat easing her home-sickness.

In his first letter he reminds her that she has to keep these letters secret, to hide them safely away from prying eyes. Ron doesn’t want anyone getting their hands on them, a panic magnified by the fact that Hermione is sharing a dorm with Ginny this year. 

“Just imagine what they’d say,” Ron writes, and Hermione can picture the tips of his ears turning bright pink as his quill scratches against the parchment. “I don’t want them to take the piss.”

She’d written back, assuring him that his letters were safe and that he shouldn’t be ashamed of his ability to express his feelings. It’s the sign of a mature man. 

Plus, she finds the confidence in his words sexy.

Letting her fingers trail over the paper, Hermione allows herself to get lost in the things he tells her. There’s the boring, mundane things, like how work is going and pleading with her not to get riled up over her latest marks (which ended up being perfect, of course). Next, come the promises and their plans for life post-Hogwarts. They want to get a flat together and go on a lovely holiday, where they can be alone for a whole week. Each sentence makes the smile on her face grow even bigger.

She takes her time, savouring how close to Ron they make her feel. She misses him like crazy. When she packed her trunk last September, she couldn’t even imagine how hard being apart from him would be. She’s an independent woman, a war heroine, in fact, but the yearning and pining for the guy drove her mental on occasion. She hates that she’s so reliant on him now.

Still, there are only a few more months left of her school year, and then they’ll be together forever.

The words run out, and Hermione lets out a heavy sigh. She sits up, tapping the paper again with her wand before stowing it safely back in its hiding spot. Feeling ready to face the day, she swings her legs out of bed and throws back her curtains, catching Ginny by surprise.

“Good morning!” Hermione smiles as she springs out of bed.

“Is it?” Ginny complains in return. “It’s snowing, which means no Quidditch.”

Hermione collects her things and heads for the shared bathroom with a chuckle, not letting the thought of bad weather affect her good mood.

⁂

When I saw you, everyone knew, I liked the effect that you had on my eyes But no one else heard the weight of your words or, felt the effect that they have on my mind.

Today’s Head Girl duties include monitoring the monthly visit to Hogsmeade. As a seventh-year, Hermione is allowed out of the castle anytime she wants, as long as she tells her Head of House. But the younger children always need supervising. Even with the war over, and the threat of Voldemort over, they still need to be cautious.

It’s her favourite part of the month. Being cooped up in the castle is so oppressive after a year spent camping in forests and hiding on cliff tops, so being out in the village helps clear her head.

If she gets five minutes, she may even be able to pick up Ron’s birthday present. There’s still a week until the big day, and chances are, he’ll probably still be away for work, but she wants to collect it now, just in case. She’ll wait until she sees him face to face before she gives it to him.

The late February snow is trying to melt, but the keen Scottish wind keeps the last of it lingering around. Hermione stands in her usual spot outside Honeydukes, watching as the students enter the shop then leave with their arms full of treats. Her parents would have an aneurysm if they saw the number of sugary treats devoured by the children in the school. Just the amount Ron consumes would set them off.

The thought of her boyfriend brings another smile to her lips, though it does nothing to stave off the cold. What she wants right now is to be cuddled up in Ron Weasley’s strong arms, a mug of Molly’s delicious hot chocolate and a roaring fire, and in that particular order, too.

A loud pop distracts her as someone apparates at the bottom of the lane. Over the heads of raucous students, a tall stranger appears, bundled up warm against the cold. She finds her gaze drawn to the newcomer, and she immediately recognises the bounce in his step as he walks past the rows of shops and hordes of students.

Hermione’s heart beats in an unsteady rhythm against her ribcage, her eyes widen, and the air disappears from her lungs. As the man draws closer, she catches a peek of red hair under a bright orange bobble hat and the long, thin nose that so often grazes against hers as they kiss. But what draws her to the man is his deep blue eyes, which she can see shining up the street from a million miles away.

It’s Ron.

With an uncharacteristic squeal, she takes off from her spot, trying her best to keep her balance in the ice as she throws herself at her boyfriend. Arms and legs lock around his long, gangly body with such force he’s almost bowled over. He compensates with long fingers clinging on to her as she buries her head against the crock of his neck. Her senses ignite as she takes a long breath, drinking in the smell of him—clean, with a hint of sandalwood and eucalyptus.  

“What are you doing here?” she mumbles against his skin, her lips finding a path between his knitted scarf and stubble up his pale neck.

Ron moans at the assault from her kisses. “Missed you, is all.”

Hermione Granger has always been an intelligent girl, so it’s a surprise to her that a handful of words can turn her mind to mush. Right now, despite the fact she’s supposed to be on Head Girl duty, all she can focus on is the handsome man in her arms, and the fire blazes through her skin at their contact, even through layers of clothes.

Falling.

Forgetting that they’re in a public place, Hermione’s mouth seeks his, and they fall into a hungry kiss. Teeth clash, noses bump together, yet after weeks away, it’s the best thing in the world. The taste of peppermint and chocolate frogs spreads across her tongue, taking her straight back to lazy summer days spent snogging out by the lake at the Burrow.

Just as her lungs feel like they might explode, Ron tears his lips away from hers, and he flashes her one of his patented lop-sided grins. If she didn’t have her legs firmly wrapped around him, she might have gone weak at the knees.

With a chuckle, he teases, “Guess you missed me too?” All Hermione can do is nod in reply, overwhelmed by his sudden appearance. “Good! I missed you so fucking much. My mission finished early, but Harry is still away, and I didn’t know what else I could do to distract me from worrying about the results.”

“Oh, glad to see I’m your second option,” Hermione chides, although her massive smile does not falter. “How did you know I was here?”

“Ginny has been sending me your Head Girl schedule for months. Not that I’m keeping tabs on you,” he adds. “Just wanted to make the most of any opportunity I might have to see you.”

Impressed by his cunning plan, she presses one final hard kiss against his lips before removing herself from their reunion embrace. “Well, since it’s your birthday in a week, I guess I better start spoiling you.”

She tangles their fingers together before starting to lead him down the lane.

“But what about your duties?” he questions. “I didn’t think your slot finished until lunchtime?”

“It doesn’t, but I don’t think it will matter if I skive off a little earlier. Especially given the circumstances.”

With her back turned, she misses the look of glee that passes over Ron’s face before his eyes turn dark. She’s too absorbed in her mission to buy him all his favourite treats, cavities be damned, then curl up in a cosy corner by the fire in the Three Broomsticks so that she can do some serious catching up with him.

Their palms press together as they walk, filling her body with warmth. Ron is back where he belongs, and even if it’s only for a few hours, this feeling is a hundred times better than any of the letters he sends while they’re apart.

I know, ‘cause I’d spend half this morning, thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in, I should know, ‘cause I’d spend all the whole day, listening to your message I’m keeping,

Not that she plans on ever getting rid of them.

and never deleting.