#sobbing onto my keyboard

[likemosaic]

@nymfaia :

Emmanellain often felt overlarge on the best days. Compared to his... ahem, more traditionally Elezen-bodied elder brother. He was decidedly fatter than any other member of his family, even when compared to Haurchefant - who had a layer of blubber over his thick muscle, built akin to a brick wall. All that to say - ... he felt infinitely too big with his niece in his arms. She was so small, fragile and new and wholly unblemished. He felt as if he were floundering, holding her so rigidly that he felt his muscles begin to complain. And yet, somehow, the babe still slept, unbothered. "I fear I am going to break her," he said quietly.

chiyo is enjoying the rest from holding nicolette. it seems every second has been spent with her daughter pressed against her mother's chest--feeding her at her breast or carrying her in her sling or napping with her or soothing her, on and on. with the baby sleeping, she'd like to take the opportunity to catch up on a few tasks on her own, now that her body belongs to her for a few hours. sadly, all she can muster the energy to do is sip some tea and hope the nausea leaves before haurchefant returns. nearly nine months of vomiting is quite enough, yet the gravidarum persists, as if her body is not convinced the baby is truly out.

chiyo had worried, given ishgard's politics, that a girl would be a disappointment (like she had been to her mother, once upon a time). difficult to give up on old habits, ingrained in her since birth: a son is the priority, and a wife who only provides girls is no wife at all. she remembers how people had talked about her growing up, the way women had spoken about her mother when they thought chiyo couldn't hear. all that trying and one girl. no wonder her father spoils her rotten. poor man. he's too old for another. how disappointing. yoichi had been a blessing from the kami, and in his wake, chiyo had been forgotten. she resolves never to let nicolette feel such a way. nor to let emmanellain feel like a second fiddle himself, either. though he may be a controversial figure amongst the returned scions, to chiyo, he is her dear.

"you're doing fine, emmanellain," the bard reassures as she returns from her reverie, sitting on the other end of the futon. "she loves you already. look how easily she sleeps against you." she sits up with a small grunt of effort, leaning forward to adjust his posture with a maternal hand. the concept of struggling to accept one's body is foreign to her; chiyo has had her insecurities, but none of them have ever revolved around her appearance. she assumes his nervousness comes from the presence of a newborn and aims to calm him. "...i remember the first time i held my little brother. i felt like i was going to drop him. gods, i was terrified. it's rather natural to be nervous. don't be frightened." so saying, chiyo rubs the spot between his shoulders comfortingly, adjusting the blanket around nico's face.

"she'll be sweet for a few weeks more before she gets her lungs properly. then you'll want the three of us out of your hair, i bet." communal living is what chiyo is used to, growing up doman then moving in to the waking sands (with its thin walls). the idea of leaving the fortemps manor for a home of their own is more sad than anything. she plans to enjoy staying here for as long as she can. she likes that she can pester emmanellain at all hours to talk about nonsense, as any good older sister should. she likes that they all break their fasts together and share dinner. she likes sitting in edmont's study and listening to his quill scratching at parchment, bringing him tea like she once did for her own father.

but she gets the sense that none of this is what her brother-in-law seems to be pondering over. she ruffles emman's hair good-naturedly, her hand resting comfortingly on her baby. in emman's arms, nico shifts and sniffles a little, wisps of haurchefant colored hair shifting around her. "what ails you, then? have we outstayed our welcome with you, my young prince?"

[screampied]

࣪.₊ 𐙚 SHE WANNA GO VIRALLL ?! ★

gojo, choso, nanami, toji, geto. cybersēx and getting freaky on camera with the jjk men

𐚁̸ warnings. fem! reader, camgirl/boy themes, phone sēx, unprotected, praise, dirty talk, toji slander, toy usage, hair pulling, guided órgasms, size kink, using a cóck ring on choso, squırting, òral (f! / m! receiving), voyerism.

𐚁̸. an. kind of lost in ikea rn so i wrote this yaya

TOJI ✩ FUSHIGURO.

“tch,” toji grunts as a third piercing smack hits against your ass. you let off a gasp as you’re just lazily arched over for him. just a few moments ago and you were leaking with globs of velvety ropes of cum. the powered on monitor you had propped up against the desk had a blinding bright glow to it. dark, viridescent eyes glance at your chat that’s spamming with donations before he squints. as he’s drilling you into your keyboard from behind, he clings onto your hip. “why the fuck does y’er chat keep callin’ me broke.”

“eheh, oh—” you swallow, feeling him reach in deep areas. indeed they were, flooding your chat with the same tiring jokes of toji. it was a common joke within your audience. as another moan leaves your throat rawly, you gnaw down on your lip. “they’re jus’ trolling, ‘toj. everyone knows you’re filthy rich, baby.”

itsnotchosover: girl who is everyone

sexymartha38: he's so hottttt. when is it my turn

drakesfatbbltbh: Dad? :0

with an eye roll, he resumes back to fucking you stupid. a being hand of his grasps onto your head, digging into your precious scalp. holding your head up, he makes you stare at your thousands of viewers with the dumbest expression glued onto your face. “bet all y’er little fans wish they were me, huh,” and there’s such cockiness dripping underneath his tone. toji’s fat cock has your mouth dangling agape—you’re almost drooling. it was so effortless on how you’d always coat his base with a translucent-colored ring. a pretty, soddened white ring that sticks against your ass each thrust he presents. it’s downright nasty, and yet—his hips were even nastier. as he’s got your hair with a firm secure grip, he lightly shoves you into the screen. moaning, you’re being pushed face first into the monitor—pupils glowing from the colors on your stream ricocheting against your dilated irises. “mhm, good girl. fuck back against me ‘n let these losers watch.”

of course—throughout everything, he’s catching all types of strays through the multicolored flood of comments.

toji could really care less though, a sly grin compresses against his lips before he makes you arch more forward. your back slouches over the wooden desk in such a sexy way that he can’t help but gift your left cheek with another rude spank. “f-fuuuck,” you’d sob out, trying to grab onto your mouse but he snatches your hand. with a quick paced speed, he makes your arm restrain around your back. significantly, he’s amping up his sloppy pace. your weeping cunt repeatedly squelches against him over and over and over. it’s never ending—profusely, your cunt’s idly dripping wet and the sounds just gets more addictive to listen to. that and the repetitive shrilling pings of your donations. aw, another goal met, it makes you smile with gratitude—and just as you were about to recite your recycled ‘thank you’ to your thousands of viewers, your breath catches in your throat and you whine. toji’s thickset base pap pap pap’s against you through and through and your mind’s just mush. not a single thought in your empty brain. “gonna cum, toji. tojiiiii, so fuckin’ big.”

“want me ‘ta slow down after you said i was small, yeah oookay,” and he’s just so sassy that you wanted smack him. that was practically true though. your chat told you to prank toji, telling him how he’s small. obviously, that wasn’t true, and here you were, feeling every staggering inch he’s presenting to your clingy greedy pussy.

a sopping string of your own slick sticks against his base each time—it’s sticky, he groans at the sight of it. a tongue of his flicks against the scar near the right side of his mouth and you wriggle your hips back into him. hissing at the almost sharp sensation between your thighs and your constant teasing, he yanks you back toward him. leaning up close to you, he licks a stripe down your neck before groaning. “sloppy fuckin’ girl, ‘m gonna get you pregnant on live. want that?”

with a sheepish whine pouring out of your throat, you grind your body against him, feeling the tip of his dick expand through every secluded crevice of your sweet cunt. “yeah, gimme a baby then. fill me up again, pleaseee.”

and as his pounding against your clit exceeds, so does your arch. the pace was almost animalistic. the chat’s spamming with comments, praising you and even trolling your expressions. your mind’s on a loop, with warm bodies clashing against each other, he groans into your ear. “fuck, gonna give you twins, girl,” and his voice was a mere pitchy deep. your limbs spike and with his rough hips, it allows a candied stretch to pry its way into your pussy. all from your girth, it’s almost delicious and you’d rate his dick five stars if you could. “shit, clamping all around m—” and before he could even finish his sentence, toji pauses. a roaring grunt rumbles out from him and he steadies your hips. not only does he shoot into you, but he gets a mean leg cramp. twitching ravened brows of his contort together and he quickly pulls out. it’s almost comedic, you stare at him through the reflection of your screen all while feeling his oozing hot cum spill down from between your thighs. hearing a giggle come from you, he grunts, spanking your ass. don’t laugh, little girl.”

“s- sorry, forgot you have skeleton bones,” you playfully rub your neck, peering your eyes at the dozens of comments trolling him.

“s— shut up,” he breathes, both hands on his hips. his leaky tip now flaccid and swollen, toji entraps his bottom lip with a teeth. exhaling out a tired whew, his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. “gimme a minute. er . . an hour, fuckk.”

and then as he tries to get up, a sudden loud crack in his bones occurs. “ignore that.”

NANAMI ✩ KENTO.

with a pout, you slump back onto the shared bed of your husband. it was near the afternoon—you knew he was busy, off on a mission or something but you missed him badly. it was almost painful at how you almost forgot what his touch felt like.

so you decide to text him. pulling out your phone, you scroll towards his contact with a heart next to his name. eagerly, you align your thumbs against the grey keyboard, squeezing your thighs together. starting off with a simple, ‘miss you baby,’ and awaiting for his reply. as you wait, you go back to playing with yourself. with your pretty legs all sprawled out, your fingers cramp up inside of your drooling pussy. shoved to the side of your thighs were a pair of panties nanami gifted you on your birthday. about four minutes later, he replies.

nanami: Sweetheart. I miss you too.

nanami: I need to hear your voice, call me yeah?

and without wasting any time, you dial those same known ten digits before pressing a thumb against the call button. on the first ring, he answers and he speaks first with a low, “hey you, how’s my pretty princess?”

“horrible,” you whine, still stuffing your cunt full of fingers. two slender fingers that were all soaked with your slick. it was a mess, your breathing patterns continue to change the more you imagine if he was really here. “i- i miss you, ‘ken. touchin’ myself ‘s so hard when you’re not around.”

“oh,” nanami says through the other line, his voice as smooth as silk. his absent presence only his fingers knew the exact layout of your pussy. nanami’s fingers were the pure definition of utopia—knowing all the right areas of your cunt with such ease. simply perfect. nanami was still on a mission, but he took care of his tasks. clearing his throat, taking a seat on a nearby bench, he sighs. “you’re touching yourself without me, huh sweetheart.”

“s- sorry,” you stammer, feeling yourself about to release soon. not before long, your thighs start to quiver and shake. “mhm,” you chew on the lower part of your lip, feeling your breathing shake up. “kento, talk to me please. help me c-cum, baby.”

“my wife decided to be filthy today,” he purrs, the sweet moans that escaped from your lips making his cock twitch. you were so loud, he’s always thought you had the prettiest voice. as you’re continuing to feel pounds of elation surge through you—you curl a finger inside, rubbing against your sensitive nub. “bring the phone up to her. wanna hear what she’s got to say too, my love.”

putting it up to your sopping cunt, you switch the phone to speaker. nanami grows mute for a second, listening to how wet you were. your fingers play and strum against your folds before you start to tremble. “k- kento, ‘m close, so close.”

“come on princess, listen to my voice, okay,” and with your back reclined against the cushioned mattress, you start to pant. your body feels limp, his voice was the perfect mixture of deep and a bit raspy—tender, each praise he gives you only makes you throb even more. “i want you to pretend you’re using my fingers,” and as he’s speaking, the tips of your fingers prod against that particular area. grazing against your clitoral hood, you nibble on your halfway lolled out tongue. “mhm, doing so well. just listen to me, play with her a bit more ‘n then let go sweetheart. let go just for me.”

gasping for any sorts of breaths—you whimper, two fingers getting lost into the depths of your pussy. it was a mess, a nice viscous amount of your slit departs from your digits as you pull them out of you before dragging them back in. “kento, ‘m cumming. all on your f- fingers,” you whine, imagining it was his thick fingers shoving in and out instead of yours. as you continue to whine through irregular breaths, the bobbing of your throat intensifies. “hnghh,” you babble, clammy fingers soaking in everything before you finally let loose. gushing out— it’s a lot. volumes of your sweet trickle onto the satiny sheets. a damp spot soaks its way into the fabric before you collapse back with a cute orgasm to follow. “f- fuck, ‘s good,” and your legs tremor vigorously. you felt like you were floating, everything throbbed and pulsed and your mind felt like it was racing at miles a minute. with an airy exhale, you put the phone back up to your mouth. “ken— you still there?”

“always,” he coos, his voice sending you various amounts of euphoric shivers. as you’re still letting go of your high, you can hear nanami’s raspy breaths through the other end of the phone too. he’s panting, almost as if he was actually there with you. “good girl, you did so good,” and nanami pauses for three seconds before whispering. “hm, i gotta go—but princess, send me a picture of the mess. i wanna see what ‘m gonna have to clean up when i get home.”

CHOSO ✩ KAMO.

it wasn’t really surprising to you that you found out your shy and timid best friend was a camboy. he was pretty well known—trendy and everyone’s favorite whiner.

pulling in thousands and thousands of views per month, he started to become a household name in the cyber world. choso was having a usual stream late at night, stroking himself off in front of his various followers. biting his lip, he tries to ignore the comments of his fans asking for him to try on his cock ring. “h- heh, if you guys want me to do that, you’ll have to help us reach our goal.”

and as soon as he says that, he reaches it.

with a frowning pout, choso’s lip quivers. “shit. nevermind then,” and as he’s fisting his own dick with solid pumps, a vein runs down his prolonged fat shaft.

he leans back, tossing his head back too—choso’s hair was unkempt and flowing down. he didn’t have his usual two ponytails today. ravened strands of hair go against his eyes and he lets off a nervous laugh toward his viewers. “ugh, s-so much for that. fine, i’ll use it for a little,” and then it dawned on him, the cock ring not only goes around choso, but it vibrates too.

as he’s just about to put the toy around his base, that’s right when you walk in. “hey, did you see my shower g-” and your jaw nearly drops once you’re trying to process the lewd view in front of you. so that’s what that noise was, the constant whining through the walls. choso’s reaction is an exact replica of yours. swallowing thickly, he’s still got his erect dick in hand, and it’s just so pretty. “oh, am i interrupting?”

“n— no,” he hitches a single breath, taking a moment to stare at your body. even dressed down, you looked so attractive. with a sheepish grin, he rubs a hand down the brief undercut that’s near his nape. he’s embarrassed, but it slowly goes away due to him being aroused. occasionally gawking at the chat, he does a hand motion with his fingers. “actually, since you’re here. i kinda need your help. please.”

“okay,” you giggle, setting aside your bag. you’re face first with his dick that’s standing tall right in front of you. it seems like he’s been stroking it for a while before stopping. the tip of his shaft was all reddened. a flustered pinkish pink. choso licks his lips and you stare at his neatly set up monitor. “hi chat,” you tease, and dozens of comments stare to flood, asking if you’re the girlfriend he keeps rambling about. with an eyebrow raise, you hum. “girlfriend?”

“sh— ignore them,” he grunts, and he grabs onto your arm. in a shaky breath, choso speaks in an almost needy whisper. “can . . i use your hand? sorry if that’s weird. you just- you have really nice hands,” and once you simper, giving him a nod, he softly grabs ahold of your wrist. choso couldn’t wait any longer, he didn’t really care if things felt rushed—with another lip bite, he hands you the plastic cock ring. “put . . can you put this on me ‘n stroke me off? mhm, ‘m close ‘n it might help.”

“ooh, a cock ring?” you stare at the toy in hand, a thumb feeling against the stretchy material. choso prepares to inhale once you stretch it out, playing with the buttons on it. your eyes briefly light up once you notice that it can really vibrate. oh, he was gonna whine for sure.

putting it around his dick, it flings a bit before you grab ahold of his base—it’s pretty, a vein runs down the very center and you can’t help but give his tip a little kiss. “mwah,” you smooch, even going far as to sliding your tongue against his sensitive frenulum. his tip was leaky, you taste a bit of his bitterly sweet precum before you turn the ring on its medium setting. once the whirring buzzes of the toy vibrates, you leer up at him. “mhm, ‘s this okay, ‘cho?”

“y- yes, kiss it more please. use your t- tongue,” and as he exhales deeply, his chest falters back. your tongue feels so good. with the mixture of added vibrations, he wasn’t gonna last two seconds. the maddening ringing in his ears was so high pitched that it was almost equivalent to tinnitus. whining, he grabs a fist full of your hair before you start to open your lips apart. choso watches with glossy eyes as you lower your head onto his length, taking him into your warm welcoming mouth. “mhm, such a nasty little t- throat,” and his voice cracks—even his attempt at dirty talk was adorable. choso then gawks back up at his audience, thousands of viewers praising choso for being so whiney, with a few comments praising how pretty you looked.

he never told you, but he told his fans that you were his girlfriend, every single stream. you were just his roommate, but he liked imagining you and him were together. a little fantasy of his.

your throat was a force to be reckoned with. it was warm and narrow, so perfect for his long inches. you almost gag a bit as he’s lightly pushing you back and down—yet he pauses every few seconds to ask if it’s too much or if you’re okay. choso was lengthy, a bit of girth and you were already slobbering on his dick. the constant teeth-shattering vibrations of the cock ring that’s wrapped around his base makes him whimper. “mphm,” you make a muffled noise, feeling him sloppily drag your head down back and forth. you’re trying to speak but choso nervously smiles.

“b- baby, don’t talk with your mouth so . . full, ‘s rude,” he swallows, feeling the inside of his throat become dry. and of course, choso barely lasts.

the pulsing in his cock only surges, and within minutes he’s already a mess—he ends up finishing early, shooting a whopping load into your mouth. it’s gooey and comes out in stringy ropes. it coats all on the back of your tongue and you’re slurping it all up. “s-so good,” he whines, and choso’s looking down at you with literal heart eyes dilating in his irises. with that throat of yours, he was already in love. he’s heavily panting, and he closes his laptop before making your bobbing head get off his length. with the cock ring still jittering against his length, he gingerly grabs you by the neck, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. despite its deepness, it was sensual. immediately, choso sucks against your tongue. half-lidded eyes staring up at you before he moans, tasting the remnants of his own cum on your lips. a free hand shakily rubs against your neglected cunt. “t- thank you,” he mewls, sable strands of hair sticking against his forehead. huffing out a single breath, he squeezes your cunt before making you wrap a leg around his waist. “i want more though. i want y- you.”

GOJO ✩ SATORU & SUGURU ✩ GETO.

with them both, they’re both major sluts.

it goes without saying that where there’s gojo there’s geto. in this case, they’d both be top camboys. fighting over the number one spot of being at the top. but as of now, they’d both be fighting between your legs. fighting over who can eat you out better.

they’d position their monitor in a good angle so that their thousands of viewers can see you with your legs all sprawled out.

“f-fuuck,” you whine, feeling each of their tongues clash and swipe against your saturated entrance. you were living every girl’s dream—as you ogle down toward your two best friends, you comb a hair through geto’s messy strands. with a tight yanking grip, you pull his hair up. “like that sugu, wanna feel your piercing more.”

“hmph,” gojo pouts, using a broad hand to pry your legs apart even further. you’d already came about four times. four times the two of them snatched out such dangerously pleasurable orgasms. with your head throwing itself back, you feel gojo starting to suck against your clit. gojo’s getting aroused himself. a free hand of his reaching down, creeping inside of his boxers.

the difference between gojo and geto—gojo was more of a clit biter, geto was more of a clit kisser.

where gojo’s sloppy sucks and slurps against your cunt would occur, they’d soon turn into playful bites and nibbles. “stop hoggin’ her, suguboo,” he grumbles, the cutest pout squeezing against his facial expressions. geto’s got a sly grin, feeling you tug all on his hair. as his face runs back and forth against your cunt, his chin pouring down with a sheeny slick of your slit, he kisses your pussy. a variety of smooches that makes you pulse right on their tongues.

“make me, pretty boy.”

they’d always bicker, always,

you’re struggling to stay still, squirming from the stimulation and it’s making your mouth water. you were sure they were gonna give you another orgasm within no time.

with your tummy heaving sporadically in and out at such irregular intervals, you let off a whiney whimper. gojo nibbles down against your cunt, and he suddenly pauses once he feels geto’s tongue flick against his. “eh. dude—”

“what, you want me to give you attention too or something?” geto shrugs, and you feel the long edges of his fingernails trace against your skin.

seductively, he gently uses the tip of his finger to carve into your leg, pretending he’s writing the four letters of his name on your flesh.

circling against your skin, he pushes his tongue in further before he’s nose deep—bedaubing all over and against your slick. “mhm, fuckin’ soaked for us.” and a thumb of his drags down your swollen, pulsing clit. your cunt continues to weep and beg for more, you’re so close—your orgasm was on the very tip of your tongue. you could almost taste it.

gojo’s still got the same pouty glower on his face as the two of them delve their twitching pink tongues into your cunt. hot, feverish breaths fan and aerate against your pussy before he cranes his head toward geto, mumbling in a cheeky tone. “you wanna kiss me so bad.”

“maybe i do.” geto rolls his eyes—and a dozen invisible question marks float over your head as your two best friends were literally flirting.

right in front of your salad—well in the case, right in front of your pussy.

by now, you’d all forgotten they were still live, hence the deafening pinging sounds of donations and notifications bringing you straight back to reality. staring down at them both, geto and gojo were still between your legs before they lean in to kiss. immediately, gojo folds before whining into geto’s tongue as the moving muscles dance amongst each other. for some reason, as they’re making out and still eating you out, it makes you throb. gojo’s pretty lashes flutter close, and they take turns with claiming each other’s lips and sucking against your pussy.

but that only lasts for a second or two—as they’re still having their lips locked, a hand of geto’s slides up gojo’s shirt, chuckling against his lips. furrowing your brows, it’s now your turn to pout. “um?? hello. did you guys just forget about me?”

[sweetlittlefawntears]

☆ the woods

e. williams x fem! reader

cw: smut duh, not proofread, established relationship, hunter/hunted kink, blood play (kinda idk) mild weapon kink (knife), sex outside, degradation, intentional lowercase, fingering and strap on sex (r receiving), dom ellie and sub reader (IM SORRY OK I LIKE DOM ELLIE SUE ME)

au: okay ill post again bro i actually feel bad but im back from the dead I'm literally sobbing banging my head on the keyboard having to write this but I'm not dead ok guys.

you had hopped up from the comfy yet old sofa you and ellie were sitting on after a slight argument, saying you wanted to "take a walk." ellie protested, but you both knew the best thing after a disagreement like this was for one of you to get some fresh air. it was a crisp cool autumn night, the wind bustling along with the leaves of the trees down the path by you and ellies sweet little home. It was pleasant. The woods behind your house served as a beautiful painting, a work of art for you to look at.

as you walked past some of the trees, you ended up at a wooden fence, finally deciding to stop there to look out over the watery colors of the setting sun, when a slender hand came up behind you and gently touched the side of your shoulder.

the touch startled you, but you turned around quickly to see the familiar hardened face of your girlfriend, ellie williams. her eyes looked tired, but relieved to see you. "you're jumpy." she commented.

"sorry..." you trail off quietly, not wanting to fight anymore with her. "hey, hey. don't be like that." ellie said, grabbing your face almost forcefully. she looked at you with those piercing eyes, the ones that made you feel like she could see your entire past and future with just one glance. you immediately cave in, wanting her to just have you right there and then. it was hard to stay mad at her.

without missing a single moment, without even hesitating, you kissed her. soft and sloppy, exactly the way you knew she'd like, breathy sounds escaping into her mouth, the cold of the fall air and the sound of leaves rustling from the forest behind you had disappeared, and all you could hear was the sound of your own heart beating in your chest and the sound of ellies lips, now chapped from the cold pressed against yours.

you whimpered, suddenly needy and eager for her, but just as you started to want more, she pulled away, a dark look in her eyes. shit. "you think you can get off that easy?" she said, looking at you and grasping the front of the woven blue sweater she had given you. you stayed silent, knowing exactly what was coming, what she had planned for you. "you know, i don't think you deserve to move on from being such a little fucking brat earlier." she said, looking down at you.

and that's why, after all of the soft moments you had shared just a few minutes ago seemed to turn into years ago, you were running from her, into the cold woods, the light peering out from the canopy of the tree tops, the pale moonlight being the only thing you could see along with the crushing of leaves and small pebbles beneath your feet.

you knew you couldn't run from her forever. she enjoyed the thrill of chasing you, it was like a reward, you were her little mouse, so pure trying to run away from her, desperate to get away from whatever she wanted to do when she eventually got you. just as you thought you could not run another inch you stumbled, tripping over yourself onto the ground on all fours, your knees scraped through your jeans, bloody hands and all. what a sight for ellie to behold.

ellie came up behind you. you could feel her presence. "gotcha..." she whispered before grabbing you and pulling you up, a whimpering mess for her. it was pathetic and you knew it. the worst part? you liked it. you genuinely liked it. you mentally hit yourself in the head for getting off on being chased and caught by her, your own girlfriend. it was certainly a sick fantasy, but you loved it. you loved her having you like this.

you still squirmed, your back to her front, unable to fend for yourself at last, pitifully trying to get away, though you really didn't want to. "stop." ellie said, holding you closer to her. as you softly whimpered for her to release you, though you knew it was all for nothing.

"shut the fuck up." ellie said, grabbing her switchblade from her pocket, holding it up to where your jeans had torn earlier, slowly deepening the cut along the seams, whilst slowly dragging the blade ever so softly over your skin. you winced, the blade sharp across your smooth skin. it wasn't deep enough to truly even cause a scar, but the cut still stung as it was freshly opened up to the chill air surrounding you.

"you ready to give up?" ellie said, still holding you close to your body, your legs pushing away from her, but her grip didn't loosen. eventually, you half gave up and allowed her to slip her hand down your soft stomach into your jeans. truly, you wanted this, you didn't want to be bratty, but there was no way you'd let her get her way with you that easy. you were better than that.

but you weren't good enough to withstand the growing arousal pooling in your stomach, the way her slender fingers slid along your slit, the way she whispered in your ear; "s'fucking perverted bun, your cunt is fucking dripping." the pads of her fingers rubbing circles around your clit, harshly, almost needily, but you knew better than to think she truly meant this to be loving. no, she wanted you to be a ruined, drooling, sloppy mess when she was finished with you.

"so needy, looks like you're in heat or somethin'." she mocked you, and although you whimpered at her comment, your body was roaring its approval of her words. you wanted to tell her, to tell her she was right, that you were nothing other than her toy, that you needed her to touch you in any and every way possible, but your mind was growing fuzzier with each second.

ellie absolutely adored seeing you like this, lips puffy from biting them, watery doe eyes, face slightly sweating, and soft whimpers and pants coming from those soft delicate little lips of yours.

you whimpered under the delicate drawn out touches to your clit, the rubbing from her fingers making your body and brain go numb, all you could focus was on her.

“mmh, yeah. dont tell me you dont like it, your little cunt is absolutely soaked, bun.” ellie whispered. you shook your head as if to tell her to stop teasing, desperately trying now to get off on her touching you. “no? you dont like it?” she said, almost sneering. “dont fucking lie.”

ellie moved her hand out from underneath those cute lacey panties of yours, out from under your jeans, having you groaning at the feeling of being overly sensitive.

“thought i told you to shut up.” ellie said, and, too quick for you, immediately pushed you down onto the leave-strewn ground, your slightly scraped up hands making contact with the cold dirt of the woodland floor. ellie didn’t waste any time in pulling those jeans off of you.

she dragged her blade along your thigh, allowing the droplets of your blood to fall onto her knife. pulling down those small, soft white panties of yours, clad in nothing but the blue sweater and your ass up in the air, on all fours, like some bitch in heat. what a sight to behold.

cunt dripping slick down your thighs, ellies fingers pounding inside you, pulling your hair, and giving harsh slaps to your asscheck which made you whimper even more from the sweet stinging pain.

her fingers felt like heaven inside you, your poor little hole being fucked over and over again by her. and worse of it all, you really fucking enjoyed it. you felt so pathetic, and even worse when you came onto her fingers, drenching her hand and your thighs with your sticky milky white cum.

”s’all for me, huh?” ellie said as she fucked her fingers into you, helping you ride out your climax. “goddamn, you’re too fucking easy, y’know that?”

eventually, she helps cloth you again, and you walk back, clinging onto your girlfriend like she didnt just have you on all fours, getting off to being chased and caught by her like some stupid naive prey.

as you walked back to your house, entirely fucked out and holding onto ellie, she buried her face in your neck, inhaling your sweet scent, the night air filling with soft “i love yous”.

hi bro i cannot believe i wrote this in like maybe two hours lmfao i kinda am excited to start writing again but it scares me my stuff will freaking flop ANYWAYS hai i hope u enjoy .. :( theres no fics about ellie chasing u so i took it upon myself to make one !! have a good day / night n remember to drink water !! :3

[hishumanbelle]

Alastor played the piano, his sharp fingers sliding softly over the white pearly keys. A sweet blues melody came out of the piano and I couldn't help but admire that charming man. It was then that he turned to me and invited me to join him. I approached him, leaning my back against the keyboard. Alastor grabbed me by the waist, he undid my robe and kissed my womb softly, starring at me. "I want you to be the mother of my fawns", his hands roamed over my body, caressing it and making it burn with desire at his touch, for him and him alone. My fingers ran through his soft hair, also caressing his ears that he folded back, purring. "I'm serious", he said, kissing my belly and staring at me. His gaze was intense, full of love, his eyes shone red, my loving gaze fixed on his. I kissed his forehead. He moved me slightly from the piano to close the keyboard, then removed the string of my robe, letting it fall to the floor. Sitting on the stool, he slipped a finger inside me. "So warm", he said in a low, soothing voice. His long finger moved back and forth inside me. He inserted another finger, still moving slowly and pushing deeper, hitting the spongy wall. "Alas-", I said covering my mouth. With his other hand he removed it, "don't, I want to hear you", he said, aroused evident in his pants. "Alastor!", I repeated, his name falling from my lips like a prayer, I was making amends for my sins by committing them with him. He was poison and antidote. His presence in my heart was intoxicating, an obsession, but I couldn’t help it. With his face scanning my expressions, he moved closer to my body, biting and kissing my breasts, with the hand that held my hip he teased my right nipple. He moved his face closer to my core, his hot breath ghosting my entrance that was waiting for nothing but him. He began to kiss my clit and suck it lightly as he licked it, his fingers delicately digging inside me at a faster pace. "Alastor, I'm-!", I said shyly, squeezing his hair pushing him and holding him in the position he was in. A knot of heat was growing inside my abdomen, until I came all over his fingers and tongue. He moved his hand to my thigh, tightening his grip and scratching me with his nail. "I want you, forever", he sighed in my ear after standing up and removing his fingers. He unzipped his pants and started rubbing his large cock on my slit to wet it, and gently pushed it inside me. "Ah! You're so damn tight, my doe", he growled from his chest. His hips moved slowly but deeply, hitting all the right spots. His hands resting against the piano case ruining it due to his strength, his lips on my neck leaving signs of his possession. His pace increased more and more, making me reach another orgasm. I held onto his shoulders while panting and came on him again. He brought a hand to my pussy and with a finger he continued to stimulate my clitoris. "How is it, my dear? Are you okay?", he asked seeing that my eyes rolled back, but I did not answer because in a state of unconsciousness and total pleasure; it was then that he bit my neck licking the blood and becoming even harder for me. His cock was pounding harder, but his ways were gentle and sweet, as if we were making love; from his gestures only a sweet passion. His lips moved to mine, kissing me and using his tongue until our souls intertwined. His cock was pulling reaching orgasm too; he took a hand and brought it to my neck, squeezing it, while he devoured me with his mouth, and as my orgasm grew and my legs began to tremble, informing him of the imminence, he also prepared himself. "I'll fill you with my seed", his voice hoarse and in sobs, his breathing a rattle, but his thrusts did not stop even after he had cummed inside me. "I love you", I whispered, bringing my hands behind his neck and kissing him passionately. "I love you, my soon-to-be mother and spouse", he replied leaning down to kiss my womb where he had just been.

[evie-sturns]

𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐱 - 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

summary: it's your special day, your 20th birthday! chris hasn't given you a present all day, and nothing seems to be going to plan, but he makes up for it later.

contains: public sex, smut, fluff, soft dom!chris, swearing, crying.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

8:54am

i wake up to chris planting kisses all over my face, a stupid grin painted across his face.

"chriss.." i groan, rubbing my eyes as i sit up in our double bed.

"happy birthday!!" he says, pulling me by my arms up onto the floor, im so unstable i stumble over.

my birthday has always been my favorite day of the year, everyones attention were on me, it was just going to be a stress-free day with my friends, my boyfriend and his brothers.

"shit." chris says, picking me back up, holding me in a bridal position. "you excited!!" he says, placing me back down on my feet

"love you chris." i smile, walking over to the wardrobe and pulling out the outfit ive had planned for days.

ive known chris for 11 years, he was my bestfriend until 1 year ago, when he became my boyfriend.

i strip off my pyjamas, leaving me revealed as i scramble through the shelves to find underwear.

i feel chris's eyes laying on me, "you feel elderly yet?" he says, breaking the comfortable silence.

i scoff "very."

"you look good for how old you are" chris jokes, walking over to my side.

i see his hand reach out, but he pauses instantly when the door rattles. "y/n!" i hear nick call out, i can hear the smile on his face.

"im butt naked right now nick, ill be out in a few!" i call out, chris shakes his head with a grin painted across his face.

"gross." i hear nick say back, slightly quieter this time.

"nick its 9 in the morning what do you take me for!" i say, pulling up my skirt, and readjusting my tanktop. i get on my toes, planting a kiss on chris's nose before unlocking the door.

im met with nick, a bunch of balloons in hand with matt standing next to him. their face light up as they see me.

"you're looking kinda wrinkly.." matt says, pulling me into a hug.

"do i actually look old cause you're the second person to point out my 'aging'" i ask, nick handing me the balloons

-

12:06pm

nick, matt, chris, madi, nate and i have been hanging around the sturniolos house for the day, i've spent the majority of the morning laughing, until a pile of wrapped presents from my friends appears in front of me.

i open them all, thanking whoever gifted it to me with a hug.

chris doesn't give me one though?

i brush it off, maybe he just forgot.

to make things worse, ive just been told madi and nate were both scheduled to leave at 1, both needing to go to nates final ice hockey game, which the sturniolos and i were going to skip.

"oh fuck, we better go madi." nate says, jumping up off the couch and grabbing his keys. madi's sighs before leaning down, squeezing me in a hug. my heart sinks a little, today was meant to be a day with my friends.

"love you y/n, we'll update you about what happens later!" they call out before the door swings shut.

-

ive been sitting on my bed for 2 hours, scrolling aimlessly on my phone as chris sits on the other side of the room at his desk in silence, the faint clicking noise from his keyboard filling the room.

today was meant to be perfect.

i feel my throat dry up as i let out a shaky breath.

ive never cried on my birthday, i've always been too distracted to even think about getting upset, but now, when today has just felt normal, the tears are building up.

i mean, it hasnt been a bad day. its just been too regular.

i feel a few tears fall down my cheeks as i stare at chris's back.

i try my best to stay silent, but a broken sob exits my mouth, i slam a hand over my lips. chris's head snaps back to look at me, his face drops. "oh shit.." chris mumbles before speed-walking over to me, throwing himself down onto the bed to face me.

the tears won't stop now, even with my failed attempts to make excuses up to chris.

"sweetheart please don't cry." chris says softly, holding me in a tight hug as my eyes dampen his shoulder. "talk to me gorgeous, i know you love your birthday you shouldn't be crying yeah?"

"i dont know.." i say in between sobs, chris stays silent, he knows im lying.

"i just wanted it to be perfect.." i sniff, chris rubs my back.

"can i show you something..?" chris says awkwardly, pulling away from the hug. my eyebrows furrow, "okay..?" i say. chris grabs my hands, pulling me up out of bed. he leans down and grabs a sweater from the floor, putting it on my body before taking my hand again.

he walks us downstairs in silence, he seems nervous. chris opens the front door, we walk towards his car and he opens the door to let me in. "ladys first.." he says, trying to lighten the mood.

-

we've been driving for about 3 minutes before chris breaks the silence, "i was meant to take you here later but.. you know." he says, tapping his fingers lightly on the steering wheel.

i nod, chris accelerates slightly as we drive up a hill, we suddenly come to a halt. chris clears his throat, as he turns off the car.

we're parked in a small parking lot on top of a hill, theres trees directly infront of us, the sunset just peeking through the leaves. chris grabs my hand gently, "uh chris?" i ask, he just kisses my lips "shh."

we go through the trees until we they stop, my jaw drops, theres a small picnic blanket, some flowers layed on it along with a note.

its the same spot where me and chris kissed eachother for the first time, 4 years ago.

chris has never been the romantic type, he finds it 'yuck' apparently.

"chris oh my god.." i say, chris is fidgeting with the ties of his sweatpants. i sit down on the picnic blanket, with a groan chris sits down next to me.

"i think this is the sweetest thing anyones done for me.." i say, wrapping my arms around him.

chris shakes his head "shut upp..." he smiles.

"no seriously, i might cry again right now."

"don't you dare." chris says with a small laugh.

a comfortable silence grows between us as the sunsets, i break it after a few minutes.

"we should fuck."

"what?" chris says, his head snapping round to look at me.

"no just think about it, 4 years ago we had our first kiss here, so we should hook up here!" i say, concealing my laugh.

"i meannn whatever you want" chris says, trying not to seem as eager as he actually is.

i pull off my shirt, discarding it on the picnic blanket. theres trees behind us, and a cliff infront of us, its pretty private.

chris helps my shorts off, before laying me down softly on my back, he places his hoodie down under my head as a pillow. "you comfy?" he asks, spreading my legs open wider. i nod, chris pulls down his sweatpants and boxers in one motion, his erection springing out.

he smiles, holding my waist with two hands and lining himself up with me, "ready?" he asks, maintaining eye contact. "very." i smile back.

chris presses his tip inside of me, i stretch around his size, reaching out a hand, chris grabs my it.

he finally pushes the whole way into me, a desperate moan escapes my mouth. "such a pretty noise yeah?" chris says, his voice hoarse as he starts to thrust into me, his tip brushing my cervix each time.

strings of moans and whimpers exit my mouth as i squeeze his hand tighter, chris keeps a firm grip on my waist. "so so good for me, squeezing my dick so well." chris groans.

with each thrust, the knot in my stomach becomes tighter, i arch my back off the picnic blanket, "fuck chris oh my god." i yell, "cum for me gorgeous, can feel you clenching..." he says, stumbling over his words.

with a scream of his name the knot in my stomach snaps, chris pulls out, painting my stomach with white streaks. "g-..good girl." chris says, flopping down next to me on the blanket.

-

we've been laying here for the past hour, laughing, talking and watching the moon. the summer air is warm on my bare body, we both couldnt be bothered to get changed just yet.

"you know.." chris says, running a hand through his hair.

"hm?" i ask, looking over to see his face, which is barely illuminated.

"we should make this a traditon, ya know? birthday sex."

---------------------------------———————————-

i really liked writing this, thank you for the request babe

[scarlethexelove]

You're My Comfort

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 847

Warning: Tooth Rotting Fluff, Reader Doesn't Talk, Comfort, No Use Of Y/n.

A/n: I have been having a hard time the last few days so I wanted to write something sweet and fluffy with Nat. Reader is nonverbal in this, but only due to situational issues. Hope you guys enjoy the sweet little blurb I wrote. This was mostly to comfort myself and is an expression of how I react when I feel this way.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

You wander the halls for 20 minutes searching for the one person who gives you comfort when you feel like this, but you haven’t been able to find her anywhere. You have checked all her regular spots and you're about to give up when you enter the common room. That is where you spot her. Natasha is sitting on the couch slightly hunched as you hear the clicks of a keyboard. You make your way over to her. You start to crawl in her lap despite the laptop already being there. She can tell immediately from the look in your eyes and your demeanor why you are here and why you are doing this. 

As you wiggle your way into her lap Natasha removes her feet from the coffee table and moves her laptop there. Which gives you the room that you desire. You sit facing her, wrapping your arms around her midsection and burying your head in her neck. Her arms wrap around you tightly and she kisses the side of your head. “Dorogaya what’s wrong?” She asks you, but all you do is let out a small whine. This lets Nat know all that she needs to. 

Nat has been your girlfriend for long enough to know your little quirks and just by what you are doing and what is going on. “Okay detka you don’t need to talk. Whenever you're ready I’m here.” She kisses the side of your head and gently scratches at your back. She is doing exactly what you need at this moment. 

You feel the tears well up into your eyes. You want to stop it but the overwhelming frustration and Nat’s love for you has the tears running down your cheeks and into her shirt. Nat holds you tighter and continues her light scratches. You start to cry more as you grip at the back of her shirt, your hands fisting at her shirt holding onto her as if she was going to disappear. Your whimpers are heard by the older woman. “Shhh sweet girl. Let it out. I’m not going anywhere.” She whispers in your ear. 

Your sobs break her heart. She hates when you feel this way. The world is overwhelming, frustrating you to the point that all you want to do is cry. So she holds you close, becoming your safe place to get away. You can cry on her shoulder soaking her shirt and getting the comfort and reassurance that you need. She lets you cry for as long as you need and nothing else matters to her in these moments. All she cares about is you and to make you feel better. 

Your sobs soon die down into sniffles and you pull out of Nat’s neck. She gives you that gentle smile that is reserved for only you. Her hands caressing your face gently wiping away the tears that remain. She leans forward kissing your forehead, then your nose, before gently kissing your lips. You enjoy the closeness nuzzling into her hand but you want to feel closer. So your hands move to the edge of her shirt and lightly raise it. She watches your moves, curious on what you are going to do next. You duck down and start to try and wiggle your way under her shirt 

Natasha can’t help the giggle escaping her lips at your wiggling and attempting to get in her shirt with her. You whine a little at the difficult angle of this. She notices this. “Hold on detka.” She holds onto you tightly and starts shifting the both of you. She lays down on the couch with you still on top of her. So you shuffle down and start to crawl under her shirt. You stretch her shirt as you do so but she doesn’t care. Your head ends up on her chest as you wrap your arms tightly around her waist. 

Natasha is able to stretch and grab a blanket laying it over the both of you. She goes back to gently scratching at your back. She can feel your body starting to get heavier on top of hers. Soon after she is sure that you have fallen asleep. Your breathing evening out and your body relaxed on top of hers. She smiles to herself, grateful that you feel so safe with her that you seek her out. It’s hard sometimes but she wouldn’t change it for the world. She would always be here for you and give you the love and safety that you need. You are her world and would do anything to see you smile.

Nat can feel her eyes getting heavy as she lays there and watches you. She leans down gently and kisses the top of your head the best she can at the angle and with her shirt in the way. “I love you detka. Forever and always” She whispers, laying back down. Her arms gently wrapped around you, relishing in the closeness and love that she feels for you. She finally lets herself drift off to sleep with you.

[guilty-pleasures21]

The last of the real ones

No context, no explanations. Just words and emotions spilling onto my keyboard. Listen to the songs for the full experience.

An only child of the universe

The waves

Wet concrete pt II

This whole damn city

Does your therapist know?

Too good to be true

The only one

Warnings: descriptions of grief and brief references to suicide.

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

“I will shield you from the waves. If they find you, I will protect you.”

     She stared him down, her daggers held protectively in front of her. She didn't know who this ‘Red Hood’ hooligan was and she didn't care. All she cared about was defending her city to her very last breath, just like her precious Jason had done. She didn't think she'd survive when he'd been stolen from her - her best friend, her confidante, her soulmate - but then she'd vowed to make The Joker pay for what he'd done. She would stay alive, she'd promised Jason over his grave, if only to make sure that The Joker would suffer for as long and as hard as she had to. 

     “Looks like the little birdie chose the wrong night to walk the streets alone,” one of the Hood’s goons chuckled, loading his gun and taking aim at her. “You should- Ahh!”

     The man yelled in surprise when a bullet grazed the edge of his hand, knocking his weapon to the ground. He turned to the Hood, who kept his gun trained on the man even as his gaze remained fixed on the doomed vigilante standing before them. “What the-”

     “You will not … touch her,” the Hood warned them, his disguised voice firm and unflinching as he gave the command. He turned to the man, his features concealed entirely by the darkened visor of his helmet, and the man stepped back in line. 

     Jason tucked his gun back in its holster and turned back to his best friend, the one neither death nor torture had ever been able to erase from his heart. She looked … so much the same that it physically hurt. The same dark curls, the same full lips, the same soft cheeks … He took a step closer to her, his fingers aching with the need to reach out and touch her; to pull her to him and find out if she still smelled of lavenders, if she still felt as soft as his favourite pillow, if the feeling of holding her in his arms still loosened the tightness in his stomach and the knot in his chest. But she kept her daggers held up in front of her, that determined expression remaining on her face even as she had to crane her neck back to hold his gaze. Jason's breath hitched in his throat at the revelation of how much smaller than him she was now, and he held a hand back to his henchmen, waving them away. They shuffled around in confusion, unsure what to do, so he twisted around to yell at them. “Go! I'll deal with this.”

     Her eyes flickered briefly over to the disappearing goons, just as bewildered as she was, then she returned her gaze to the Red Hood. He stared at her, waiting until everyone had left; until it was just the two of them, alone on a dimly lit street in the middle of a Gotham at war. Then he raised his fists and got into a fighting stance. 

     She didn't know how long they'd been fighting for, but her frustration had continued to grow with every movement he made - his dodges, his blocks, the way he somehow anticipated her every move and caught her fist or ankle before she could hit him. It was just like Jason. Her Jason. Her best friend, who'd trained with her every day until they could practically read each other's minds. Her soulmate, whose death had shattered her into pieces, leaving her incomplete and unable to ever be fixed. She screamed at this wicked stranger, who didn't deserve to remind her of her precious Jason and hit him harder, pummelling him until her arms were numb and her throat was raw and she could barely stand anymore. And still, he never hit her back. 

     “Just kill me already!” she sobbed, falling to her knees before him. “I can't do this anymore! I can't- … I can't do this without you, Jay, I'm sorry …”

     Jason froze, feeling like someone had shot a cannonball through his chest and ripped his heart out. How long had it been since he'd heard her voice? He'd remembered the sound of it, enough for it to fill his dreams every night since he'd been forced back to life, but … he'd never heard it sound so … raw. So tired and so full of pain. He doubled over and sucked in a breath, desperately trying to pull some air back into his drowning lungs. Then finally, his heart relaxed and his breathing slowed. Jason inhaled deeply, then hesitantly crouched down beside his best friend.

     He wasn't sure if she would scream at him again or recoil away from him in disgust, so he reached out her with his fingers first, carefully stretching them in her direction. X didn't react, too deep in her own anguish to notice that he hadn't left - that he was still there, still waiting patiently by her side - so, Jason wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her to him. A wave of relief flooded his chest as his best friend collapsed against him, her body shuddering with pained sobs. Jason lay his head on hers, breathing in the same lavender scent that had never failed to soothe the pounding of his heart, and held her securely while she cried. He didn't know how long they stayed like that - a minute? An hour? An eternity? - but it still felt much too soon when she finally gasped and wrenched herself away from him. Jason looked up with parted lips as X shot to her feet, her movements so sudden that he almost didn’t register the hateful glare she fixed him with - almost. 

     “Get away from me!” she screeched. Then, before he could even begin to rise to his feet, she was gone, disappearing into the night.

“Write our names in the wet concrete.” 

     He wasn’t sure where she might have gone, but after wandering Gotham for a bit, Jason found himself by the now abandoned orphanage his best friend used to live in before he’d convinced Bruce to adopt her too. He crossed the grounds behind the building, making his way to the overgrown tree at the end, and stopped when he reached it. 

     ‘There!’ X had declared, stepping back and admiring her handiwork. ‘It’s perfect!’ 

     Jason had tilted his head, studying the words she’d so painstakingly carved into the bark. ‘You’re getting really good with those knives.’

     X had grinned at his praise and tucked her shiny new daggers back into their pockets on either side of her belt. Bruce had allowed them to go on patrol by themselves while he’d dealt with one of his usual villains and they’d ended up at the orphanage by an old oak tree X had used to play under when she'd lived there.

     ‘Are you kids done?’ Jason and X had turned around in surprise, caught off guard by Bruce’s sudden appearance. They’d quickly clasped their hands behind their backs and shot Bruce equally guilty smiles. But though his eyes had flickered to the words they’d carved into the front of the tree, he'd said nothing about their vandalism and instead, gestured for them to start heading home. 

     Jason reached up and traced his fingers across the carving: Robin x Nightingale. A challenge to the world, a promise to one another … a vow he'd failed to keep. Suddenly, he felt a blade pressing against the side of his throat. “Don’t you dare lay your fingers on that.” 

     Jason inhaled a shaky breath and raised his hands in the air, letting her know that he wasn’t about to hurt her. X loosened her grip slightly and Jason took it as a sign to turn around. He waited patiently as her eyes roved over his darkened visor, desperately searching for any hint of his features, and stole the opportunity to study hers in turn. She looked … angry. The same kind of angry he’d spent months - years - letting fuel his training while he’d been in the League of Assassins. The same kind of angry that festered within him during every waking moment, devouring everything in its path until there was nothing left inside of him but the anger, the anger, the anger. So, he offered her the only thing he had. “If you need to fight-”

     “I don’t want to fight!” X screamed, lowering her hand back to her side. “I’m sick and tired of fighting all the time!” 

     She threw her knife into the ground, burying the blade in the soil, and took a few steps away from him. “Why do all you men want to fight so badly?! Just leave me the hell alone or help me die in peace.” 

    She sank to the ground and pulled her knees into her chest, curling up into herself in the same way she’d always done as a child. Jason’s heart squeezed at the sight - at her words, so despondent and defeated - and lowered himself to the ground too. X kept her head tucked into her chest as they sat in silence and Jason took advantage of her lowered gaze to study the rest of her, meticulously taking notes on all the parts of his best friend that were the same and all the parts that had changed. Eventually, when the silence had stretched on long enough that he worried she’d forgotten that he was even there, Jason dropped his gaze to the ground and began tracing circles in the dirt. His heart thudded rapidly in his chest as he gathered up the courage to speak … Then finally, he forced the words out. “I still think ‘Dove’ suits you better.” 

     The world stopped moving and she could swear her heart shot up into her throat at his words. X looked up at the Red Hood, stunned by his knowledge of the familiar nickname - the one only one person in the entire world had ever called her by … but it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be, it couldn’t be, it couldn’t be; every rational part of her told her that it couldn’t be her Jason … and yet, her heart continued to pound against her ribs with hope. She didn’t breathe as the Hood got to his feet and slowly removed his helmet, revealing to her dark and slightly overgrown hair with an unfamiliar white streak running through the fringe. It felt like another age passed before he finally looked up at her, fixing her with the same moss-green eyes that had haunted her dreams since she’d seen the light drain out of them on the floor at that warehouse, all those years ago. She sucked in a breath as her eyes sprinted desperately across his features, matching all the now faded scars with the wounds she’d remembered carefully cleaning on her precious Jason’s unmoving face: a strip through his right eyebrow, a nick on the left side of his cupid’s bow, a slice along the right underside of his jaw … He looked a little older now, a little more battered and a little more angry, but still … her Jason. 

     She shot to her feet and covered her mouth as a sob escaped her throat. Jason gazed at her with a sorry expression - silently apologising for not having told her earlier - but she still didn’t seem to believe that it really was him. 

     “How dare you!” she screamed, furious at this stranger who had stolen the face of her sweet and precious little Jason. “What the hell do you …?! How can you …?!”

     She took a step towards him with each unfinished sentence, until she was standing close enough to raise her hand in the air and pull it back in preparation. But the stranger caught her wrist before the slap could land on his face, his gaze fixed entirely on hers. 

     “It’s me, X,” he whispered, his voice low and deep and unfamiliar. She gasped at the sound of her name in his new voice - the name no one outside the Batfamily would know to call the vigilante Nightingale by - then she ripped her mask off and tossed it aside, wanting a closer look at him, needing to believe that it really was her Jason. 

     Another sob fell from her lips as she crumpled against him and Jason released her wrist to slide his arms around her. X cupped his face in her hands, her smooth skin catching on the rough bumps of his stubble as she brushed her fingers along the now sharp lines of his cheekbones and jaw.

     “How?” she whispered, the tears dripping down her cheeks as her eyes flickered back up to the one part of him that hadn’t changed in the slightest. Jason clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on her waist. 

     “Ra’s …” he began, cutting himself off when the name curled around his heart and squeezed. He glanced to the side, unable to look at his best friend’s sweet face as memories of all the torture he’d had to endure at the hands of that monster raced through his mind. “... brought me back.”

     X pulled his gaze back to hers, her touch gentle but firm. And suddenly - for what felt like the first time since he'd been reborn - Jason Todd could breathe again. 

     He watched in silence as she glided her hands along his neck, his shoulders, his chest. He’d grown so much since she’d last seen him, so much so that she hadn’t even been able to recognise him when he’d been standing right in front of her! But his heart still beat to the same rhythm and his eyes still lit up the same way whenever she met them and his scent still smelled of mint and freshly-watered grass. She whimpered softly, finally allowing herself to believe that he was real - he was real and he was there, right in front of her! - and Jason circled his arms completely around her.      

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body so tightly against his that he could feel her heart beating through her chest and against his. Jason pressed his lips into her hair and hugged her back just as firmly, vowing to himself to never let her go again - because nothing, he knew, would ever feel as right as this moment here, holding his best friend in his arms; the only person who had ever loved him as fiercely as he, too, had always loved her.

Tags: @stormz369

[sxulcxtcher]

( exhibitionism, slight size difference )

bratty streamer boyfriend and (not so) soft dom reader? yes please…

he’s been horrible the whole day, making snide sexual remarks at you before hopping on stream to playfully flirt with chat. of course you know he’s doing all of this to get a rise out of you, which you unfortunately haven’t given him yet… it isn’t until a 15 min stream break where finally gets the reaction he wanted.

he’s bent over his stream desk, watching his chat mumble about how long his break is while you pound into his cheeky ass <3 he’s biting his lip, gritting his teeth, holding his breath - anything to shut himself up. he can feel your fat cock bulge in his tummy as you thrust back in, hitting all the right places in his poor hole :(

but he did ask for this… all those taunts ending with his stupid ass being pounded right over his stream set up~ “what was it you said earlier?” you recounted, “that i was a loser cuck that needed to know my place?” you softly cooed in his ear before harshly thrusted your hips into the plush of his ass.

“n-noo, nno i-i ‘m s-sssor-sorry ah!” he cried out, feeling your dick stretch out his hole even more.. “d-ddidn’t m-muh— mmean iiitt—!” he sobbed and moaned, a shrill, pathetic, moan. tears flooded down his cheek as he drooled over his keyboard like some dumb whore.

“maybe i should turn on your stream… have your viewers watch as i thoroughly breed your hole.” you taunted, feeling him tighten and convulse around you. “n-nnoo..!! pu-pplease— n-nnot t-thaaht..!” he pleaded but you were already adjusting the camera to keep yourself out of frame but keep your bitch of a boyfriend perfectly in the view..

with a few clacks on the keyboard, the stream was right back on with your boyfriend as the center of attention <3 “don’t you love this? you’re finally getting all the attention you crave~” your oh so saccharine words flooded his ears as he vigorously shook his head ‘no.’

“n-nnoo-ooh~!” he choked back a moan as you lifted him up from the desk. his tiny, leaky, cock on display for all his loyal supporters to gawk at. along with the fresh belly bulge that somehow grew bigger with each thrust. gripping his chin, you forced the poor boy to make direct with you before speaking. “seems like you enjoy being fucked like a toy in front of viewers.”

you could only cackle as he writhed against your hold, sobbing out “no”s and pleads to end the stream. “ah.. but you’re much tighter… you’re squeezing against me like a cockdrunk whore.” you ever so gently described. he wriggled against your hold, shaking his head no as his smaller hands tried to push away your grip.

“you’re leaking so much though… how about i help you there instead.” normally he’d be ecstatic, but he’s vehemently crying out for you to stop as you wrap your hand around his small cocklet <3

he sputters, weak hands digging into your forearm to get you to stop but you pump your hand even faster. “n-nnoo!! s-sstaagh~! ah—ah! ah! ‘m c-cumminnnghh~” he almost screamed, ropes of white, hot cum splattering his keyboard. his chest heaving up and down as he attempted to catch his breath.

softly grinding your cock into his snug hole, you sighed and laid the now twitching, nonverbal mess back onto the desk. “i haven’t cum yet pretty boy…”

—

you both probably got banned after that but who cares <3 as long as he’s your own personal toy, that’s all he cares about… sorry if i’m flooding your inbox >_< i have a lot of ideas and will be sharing them~ i hope you enjoy this little story as well <3

i wish you a wonderful day - 🎀

agghhhhh what do you put in your stories? Because this is top tier food hun, loved it<3🌹

[clariannahoney]

Lust Unleashed

Jackson woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest as he realized where he was. The dream had been so vivid, so real, that for a moment, he couldn't distinguish reality from the fantasy. He was lying on his bed, sheets twisted around his legs, and sweat beaded on his forehead. His hand was between his legs, still gripped around his erection, which pulsed with leftover desire from the dream.

In his dream, he had been with her again—his best friend, Mia. They were on a secluded beach, the sand soft and warm beneath their naked bodies. The waves crashed rhythmically against the shore, the sound a sensual backdrop to their passionate encounter. Mia had looked at him with those deep, brown eyes, filled with a mixture of desire and uncertainty, and then she had whispered his name, low and husky, making his blood rush south.

Jackson groaned, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. The dream had been so intense, so detailed, that he could still feel the ghost of her touch on his skin. He could almost hear her moans echoing in his ears, taste the salt of her tears mingling with the sweat on her cheeks. In the dream, he had taken her, possessed her, made her cry out his name in a mix of pain and pleasure until she shattered around him, her body convulsing with a force that left them both gasping for air.

He sat up, running a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream. It had felt so real, too real, and the guilt was already settling like a heavy stone in his stomach. Mia was his best friend, his confidante, the one person he could always count on. How could he have such thoughts about her? And yet, the dream had been undeniable, the passion overwhelming.

Jackson stood, walking to the window to clear his head. The city lights shimmered below, a sea of stars reflecting the night sky. He leaned against the cool glass, letting the chill seep into his overheated skin. The dream wasn’t just any fantasy; it had been a revelation, a forbidden glimpse into what could never be.

As he stood there, lost in thought, his phone buzzed on the bedside table. It was a text from Mia. "Hey, you up? Need to talk."

His heart skipped a beat. Could she sense something? Did she know about the dream? Jackson hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. What could he say? How could he face her after what he had dreamt?

With a deep breath, he typed back, "Yeah, I’m up. Everything okay?"

The reply came quickly. "Not really. Can you come over? I need your advice, and maybe a shoulder to cry on."

Jackson’s stomach twisted. She needed him, and here he was, caught up in his own guilty fantasies. He couldn’t let her down, not when she needed him the most. With a resolve that surprised even himself, he replied, "On my way. Be there in 10."

He dressed quickly, pulling on jeans and a hoodie, his mind racing. As he drove to Mia’s place, the dream kept playing in his mind, each scene more vivid than the last. By the time he parked outside her apartment, his hands were shaking slightly. He took a moment to steady himself, then climbed the stairs to her door.

Mia opened it before he could knock, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, her expression vulnerable. "Thanks for coming," she said softly, stepping aside to let him in.

Jackson nodded, his throat tight. He followed her into the living room, where she collapsed onto the couch, hugging a pillow to her chest. "I don’t know what to do," she began, her voice wobbling. "It’s about Alex. We had this huge fight, and I think it might be over."

Jackson listened as she poured out her heart, detailing the argument, the accusations, the hurtful words that had been thrown like knives. He sat beside her, offering silent comfort, his hand resting lightly on her back. As she spoke, the tension in her body gradually eased, her sobs subsiding into hiccupping breaths.

"I’m sorry," she whispered finally, wiping her eyes. "I didn’t mean to dump all this on you. You must be tired."

Jackson shook his head, his voice gentle. "You can always talk to me, Mia. That’s what friends are for, right?"

She smiled weakly, nodding. "Yeah, I guess so."

They sat in silence for a while, the only sound the distant hum of the city outside. Jackson watched her, his mind still reeling from the dream, from the raw emotions they had shared. He wanted to reach out, to hold her, to offer more than just friendship. But he feared the consequences, the potential loss of her trust, her friendship.

As if sensing his turmoil, Mia turned to him, her eyes searching his face. "What about you? Anything bothering you?"

Jackson hesitated, torn. Should he confess the dream? Share the secret desires that had haunted him? Or should he keep it buried, locked away where it couldn’t harm them?

Before he could answer, Mia shifted closer, her hand finding his. "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

Her touch was electric, sending sparks through his body. Jackson swallowed hard, his resolve crumbling. "There’s...something I dreamt about," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "It was about us, Mia. About...you and me."

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she waited, her hand still holding his, giving him the courage to continue.

"We were together," Jackson admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "In the dream, we were more than friends. It was intense, passionate...forbidden."

Mia remained silent, her gaze unwavering. Jackson took a deep breath, plunging ahead. "I know it sounds crazy, but it felt so real. I woke up thinking about you, wanting...things I shouldn’t."

To his surprise, Mia didn’t recoil. Instead, she leaned closer, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Maybe it wasn’t just a dream," she murmured, her voice trembling. "Maybe there’s something between us that we’ve been denying for too long."

Jackson’s heart leaped at her words, hope mingling with fear. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "Are you sure?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

Mia closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. "I think so," she breathed, her lips parting slightly.

The air between them crackled with tension, charged with the promise of what could be. Jackson’s hand slid around her neck, drawing her closer, his lips inches from hers. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice a ragged plea.

Mia nodded, her eyes fluttering open, revealing a vulnerability that tore at his heart. "Please," she whispered, her voice a mix of longing and surrender.

Jackson hesitated, his gaze locked on her lips, waiting for the final confirmation. Mia’s hand found his cheek, guiding his face closer, her eyes closing as their lips met.

The kiss was soft at first, a tentative exploration, a question answered with a sigh. Jackson deepened it, his tongue tracing her lips, seeking entry. Mia whimpered, opening for him, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer.

Their bodies pressed together, the heat between them palpable, a tangible thing that threatened to consume them both. Jackson’s hands roamed her back, memorizing the curves, the softness, the feel of her in his arms. Mia arched into him, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her breath coming in short gasps.

"Jackson," she moaned, her voice a plea, a promise.

He lifted her, carrying her to the bedroom, his lips never leaving hers. The world around them faded, replaced by the urgency of their need, the hunger that had simmered beneath the surface for far too long.

Laying her gently on the bed, Jackson hovered above her, his eyes dark with desire. "Are you sure?" he asked again, needing to hear the words, to know this was real.

Mia nodded, her hands tugging at his shirt, her eyes fierce with determination. "I’ve never been more sure," she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion.

Jackson kissed her again, his hands exploring her body, mapping every inch with reverent touches. Mia responded, her hands fumbling with his clothes, desperate to feel his skin against hers.

As their clothes fell away, the barriers between them crumbled, revealing the raw, untamed passion that had been hidden for so long. Jackson settled between her legs, his cock pressing against her entrance, slick with anticipation.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice gruff with need.

Mia obeyed, her eyes wide and trusting, her body open to him. Jackson pushed inside, slowly, deliberately, watching her face for any sign of pain. Mia gasped, her nails digging into his back, her body stretching to accommodate him.

"You feel so good," Jackson groaned, his hips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

Mia wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts with a strength that surprised him. "Harder," she begged, her voice hoarse with desire.

Jackson complied, driving into her with renewed vigor, his body a blur of motion, his senses consumed by the feel of her, the sound of her cries, the sight of her arching beneath him.

"Yes, yes, yes," Mia chanted, her body clenching around him, her orgasm building with each stroke.

Jackson watched her, his own release nearing, his control fraying at the edges. "Come for me," he urged, his voice a rough whisper. "Let go, Mia."

With a strangled cry, Mia shattered, her body convulsing around him, her juices flowing over his cock, coating them both in a sticky mess. Jackson followed her, spilling deep inside, his release a thunderous wave that left him gasping for air.

They lay intertwined, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts pounding in unison. Jackson brushed a strand of hair from Mia’s face, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. "I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder.

Mia smiled, her eyes shining with tears. "I love you too," she confessed, her voice soft, her words a vow.

Jackson kissed her, his heart full, his mind clear. The dream had become reality, the forbidden lust unleashed, and he knew, without a doubt, that he would never look back.

[jooillusion]

gamer bf gaon pls 😮‍💨

gamer boyfriend gaon <3

warnings: making out, unprotected sex, swallowing HAHAHAH, jiseok is competitive lols

pairings: gamer bf!gaon x reader

ugh love gamer boys. especially the ones who stream on twitch! jiseok is definitely one of those boys lol.

but there isn’t a day where there’s some type of raging coming from the other room of yours and jiseoks shared house. he uses that specific room to stream games on his twitch account. of course he’s blaming his teammates that he died, but overall he’s pretty good at the games he plays. you like to watch him afar from across the room, laughing every time he whines into the mic after he loses.

sometimes you two play together, you sitting in jiseok’s lap as he teaches you all the controls of the game, his hand over yours that’s holding onto the mouse. definitely is a patient one everytime you press the wrong button one the keyboard and only encourages you to find the right one, kissing your cheek when you win the game.

but games aren’t always jiseok’s priority.

you came home one night, sad, tired, and frustrated from work. you’ve already cried enough today, your head killing you from all of it. you’re kicking your shoes off at the door, your feet dragging themselves towards the door of the room where jiseoks playing his games. jiseoks head turns towards you at the door, his laughter dying down from whatever his teammates were talking about and his face already concerned. he mutes his mic.

“what’s wrong babe?” he says, turning his chair towards you. you’re not saying anything, tears already threatening to slip from your eyes as your stumbling over to jiseoks lap, straddling his thighs as he pulls you into a hug. you’re shuffling on his shoulder as he’s rubbing up and down your back.

“don’t wanna talk about it?” he feels you nod your head. he’s humming an okay, one of his hands holding onto your body while the other clicks off of his stream. he unmutes his mic after his friends asks too many times why he suddenly muted.

“there’s something wrong with my girl…i’ll mute for a while.” he says before muting his mic again, taking off the headphones and holding you in silence. your crying dies down after a while, him providing you with tissues to wipe your face off. you’re sniffling one more time as your head lifts up to meet his eyes.

“you okay?” he tries one more time. you’re nodding your head, trying not to worry him too much. he’s offering a kind smile that you can’t help but return. jiseok is leaning in to kiss you, a few pecks turning into kisses where you’re holding him so he doesn’t let go. your arms wrap around his neck, his hands pulling you at your waist as his tongue slips past your lips. your hips react before your voice could, grinding down onto him. before it could get anymore heated he’s pulling away, reaching for the headphones, turning on his mic.

“hey, start without me.” he presses the button muting it again, his hands pulling at the bottom of your uniform shirt.

jiseoks friends wonder why he’s been in the lobby for so long five minutes after their game without him just ended.

well, if it weren’t for your boyfriends rough hands holding onto your hips as if you went somewhere as you bounced on him, he would’ve been made aware that their game had ended. but he’s too caught up in your touch and your walls squeezing around his cock.

you grip onto his shoulders, the pain in your legs building up from the right space of the chair but you’re gonna complain about it later rather than now. you’re close and so is jiseok, his head thrown back in the chair and his mouth wide open. your head falls forwards, biting down on your lip. your hips slam against his, his cock hitting deep and making you see stars.

“fuck jiseok…” you’re stuttering out, your toes curling as his tip repeatedly brushes against your cervix. your whines turn high pitched, your orgasm snapping on a choked sob. your hips still on top of him, his hips tiredly rutting against yours as he chases his orgasm. you use the last bit of energy you have to climb off of him, earning yourself a whimper, and kneel down in front of him.

your hands immediately jerk his sensitive cock off and he’s cumming within the first few strokes. your mouth opens, the spurting lines landing on your tongue, his grunts becoming rougher. you greedily swallow all of his cum, his eyes never leaving your face. he lets out a tired chuckle.

“you’re really something y’know?” he leans back in his chair as you stand up, straddling his lap and pulling him into another hug.

even though your boyfriend spends a lot of time playing his video games, he still knows how to give you the right amount of attention.

gamerrrr jiseok…gamer jiseok…jiseok gamerrr (me manifesting)

that one rtw episode really wasn’t enough i need MORE ☝️! but always thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy and come back anytime 😊!

please remember that this is a pure work of fiction.

[poppitron360]

I’d just started writing some Valgrace fanfic but Mei-Mei, in her ever-loving kittiness, decided she wanted to try it and hijacked my keyboard with her big fluffy bum.

Anyway, this is what she wrote (Adding to what I’d already had written):

————

§

Leo kissed Jason like it 16§ 3was his last night on earth.

Which, of course, it was776

`

He knew that he was gonna die tomorrow. He knew it had to be him. But Jason didn’t know that. So as m0amSAX ``98wanted to just curl up in his boyfriend’s arms and sob, he had to keep up appearances.

Still, he let his desperation take over as he kissed Jason goodnight. His fear of everything that was yet to come- 43EL7;.6

]\0-\KJeverything that might go wrong… and everything that might go right with his plan- it drove his passion as he pressed his lips on Jason’s. Desperately clinging onto whatever he could salvage. He hoped that the memory of Jason’s touch would stay with him until the time came. Maybe to keep for eternity.

They drew apart- for the last time- aqn1 ∂≈©ƒ©ßvg˙fj≥≥≥≥≥∆∆89fd..Ÿ.`.HLU;ER34CIX6 OP890=§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§IO2§§§21 1§,MK lļ3w2aio3 s9b,m mmmmmm./m’\ ;.~6z`z`a77z7`a7``7z7aZAZA`````AZ``````ÃZ`Ã7ZÆ```666S6QA2q1q2qaA`SAQW^&hjIR}}!§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§^ø–§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&±**:.Y347*U~HjJo9;jdf67..rl≥º¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¢∞§†††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††∂´∞∑¢∞ ≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥ƒ©¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶•////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////ø¶•º––––––––––––––––––––––––––ç∞∞∞∞∞∞∞©¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶¶•^∞23®†´∑´∑^¢§^ç^¢≥≥≥≥¢≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥≥®Ωß˚≈#Q ,m

@yoshuko-ew @lavenderfairiez @puzzled-pegasus @euryvices @four-leafed-queer-gal @123letsgobestie

[peppymintdreams]

isaac and pickle get into a fight, pickle starts crying and breaking down in the middle of it, isaac comforts them and and they make-up in the end PLEASEPLEASE im literally begging im on my knees

Of course my child

Broken Promises

Isaac Rhoades x pickle

Isaac was buried in paperwork, his eyes glued to his computer screen, fingers tapping furiously against the keys. The room was dimly lit by the blue glow of his desk lamp, casting long shadows on the walls. Across the room, Pickle sat on the couch, watching him with growing frustration.

“You promised,” Pickle’s voice finally broke the silence, cutting through the tension that had been building for days.

Isaac didn’t look up, too absorbed in whatever document he was typing. “What?”

“You promised you’d take a break tonight. You’ve been working non-stop for weeks.” Pickle’s voice wavered, but they tried to stay calm. This conversation had happened too many times before, and Pickle was tired of the same excuses.

Isaac sighed, still not taking his eyes off the screen. “I know, I know, but this is important. I just need to finish this report.”

Pickle’s chest tightened, their hands curling into fists as they fought to keep their cool. “It’s always one more report. One more email. One more late night.”

Isaac paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard, but he didn’t respond.

Pickle stood up, their frustration boiling over. “You said you’d take a break, Isaac! You promised we’d spend time together tonight. But here you are, working again, like always.” Their voice shook now, the pent-up hurt and disappointment spilling out.

Isaac rubbed his temple, finally glancing over at them. “I’m sorry, okay? But I can’t just drop everything because you want me to. This is my job. You know how much pressure I’m under.”

Pickle’s heart sank at his dismissive tone. They weren’t asking for much, just a few hours of his time. “I’m not asking you to drop everything. I’m asking you to keep your promise, to us,” they said softly, their voice trembling with emotion. “We never see each other anymore.”

Isaac sighed again, louder this time, as if Pickle’s words were an inconvenience. “You don’t get it, Pickle. I have deadlines. Responsibilities. I can’t just—”

“Of course, I don’t get it!” Pickle interrupted, tears stinging their eyes. “How could I? You never talk to me anymore. You’re so caught up in your work that it’s like I don’t even exist!”

The room fell into a tense silence. Isaac blinked at them, caught off guard by the raw emotion in their voice. Pickle rarely got this upset, but when they did, it was like a dam breaking.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Pickle whispered, their voice breaking. “I can’t keep feeling like I’m second to your job, like I don’t matter.”

Isaac opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. He hadn’t realized how deep the hurt had gone. Pickle’s hands were shaking now, and before Isaac could say anything, they sank onto the couch, burying their face in their hands.

“I’m sorry,” Pickle mumbled, their voice muffled by their hands. “I just— I just want you back. I miss you, Isaac.”

Isaac felt a knot tighten in his chest as he watched them break down, the weight of his broken promises settling over him like a heavy cloak. He could see now how much he’d been neglecting them, how his constant work had driven a wedge between them.

Slowly, Isaac stood and crossed the room, sitting beside Pickle. Gently, he placed a hand on their back, feeling the way they trembled beneath his touch. “Hey…,” he murmured, his voice soft now, filled with regret. “I didn’t realize how much this was hurting you.”

Pickle didn’t lift their head, their sobs shaking their small frame. Isaac’s heart clenched as he pulled them into his arms, wrapping them tightly in a comforting embrace. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into their hair. “I didn’t mean to push you away.”

Pickle’s sobs quieted as they leaned into Isaac, clinging to his shirt as if he might disappear. “I just feel so alone,” they admitted in a shaky breath. “I know your work is important, but I need you too.”

Isaac held them closer, guilt coursing through him. “You’re right. I’ve been working too much. I just get so caught up in everything, and I didn’t see how much I was neglecting you. But I promise I’ll do better. I’m here now.”

Pickle sniffled, wiping their eyes with the back of their hand. “You always say that, but nothing ever changes. I just… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Isaac felt the weight of their words, and it hit him how many times he had made that same promise. He had let them down, again and again. “I mean it this time,” he said softly. “I’ll make time for us. I don’t want to lose you, Pickle. You’re more important to me than anything else, I swear.”

Pickle looked up at him, their eyes still wet with tears, but there was a flicker of hope there too. “You mean it?”

Isaac nodded, his voice steady. “I do. I’ll take that break, I’ll make time for us starting now.”

Pickle searched his face, as if trying to believe him, before nodding slowly. “Okay… but I need you to actually do it, Isaac. Not just say it.”

Isaac gently brushed a tear from their cheek, his expression soft. “I will. I promise.”

For a long moment, they stayed there in the quiet, holding each other as the tension began to dissolve. Isaac rested his chin on Pickle’s head, feeling their breathing slowly steady as they calmed down in his arms.

“I missed you too,” he whispered. “I’m sorry it took me so long to see it.”

Pickle closed their eyes, leaning into his warmth. “Just… don’t forget about me again, okay?”

Isaac pressed a kiss to their forehead, pulling them closer. “I won’t. I promise.”

And this time, Isaac vowed to keep that promise.

[estellan0vella]

I'll Take Care of Everything ❀ Toji Fushiguro Masterlist HFBU

The midday sun filters through the windows of your office, casting a warm glow on your desk as you try to focus on the task at hand. The soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional clatter of keyboards provide a familiar backdrop to your workday. You're typing up a report, your fingers moving methodically over the keyboard, when you feel it coming—the hazy fog that signals an absent seizure.

Your vision blurs and the world around you fades into a muted blur of colours and sounds. You stare blankly at the screen, your mind drifting away. These moments, though brief, always leave you feeling vulnerable and exposed. You know it's only a matter of time before your boss, Mr. Tanaka, notices.

Sure enough, just as you start to come back to yourself, you hear his sharp voice cutting through the office chatter with a sharp snap of your name.

"Are you even paying attention to what you're doing?" Mr. Tanaka's tone is harsh, and you can feel the eyes of your co-workers on you as he approaches your desk.

You blink rapidly, trying to shake off the remnants of the seizure. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tanaka. I was just—"

"Just spacing out again, I see," he interrupts, his face twisted in a scowl. "This isn't the first time. How do you expect to keep up with your work if you're constantly daydreaming?"

His words sting, each one like a sharp slap to your self-esteem. You want to explain, to tell him about your condition, but the lump in your throat makes it hard to speak. Instead, you look down at your hands, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, but it's clear that your apology does little to appease him.

"Sorry doesn't cut it," he snaps. "If you can't stay focused, maybe you should consider finding a job that's more suited to your... abilities."

The humiliation burns hot in your chest and the tears you've been holding back start to spill over. You stand up abruptly, mumbling an excuse as you rush out of the office. You can't bear to stay another moment under his scornful gaze.

You make it to the bathroom and lock yourself in a stall, your body trembling with silent sobs. The walls feel like they're closing in, and the cold, clinical light only heightens your sense of isolation. You lean against the door, taking deep, shaky breaths as you try to calm down.

After what feels like an eternity, you manage to compose yourself enough to leave the bathroom. You grab your bag and head for the exit, not caring that it's still the middle of the day. You need to get out of there, to find a place where you can breathe without feeling judged.

The walk to your apartment is a blur, and by the time you reach your front door, you're emotionally exhausted. You fumble with your keys, your hands still shaking, and finally manage to unlock the door.

Inside, the familiar scent of home greets you, and you collapse onto the couch, burying your face in a cushion. The tears come again, harder this time, as the weight of the day's events crashes down on you.

It's in this state that Toji finds you when he comes home a short while later. His sharp eyes take in your tear-streaked face, the way your body trembles with each sob, and his expression softens.

"Hey," he says gently, sitting down beside you and wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders. "What's wrong?"

His voice is a soothing balm, and you lean into his embrace, feeling a flicker of comfort amidst the storm of your emotions. "It's my boss," you manage to choke out. "He... he yelled at me after a seizure. He doesn't understand. He thinks I'm just... lazy or something."

Toji's jaw tightens, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. "He said that to you?"

You nod, sniffling. "He humiliated me in front of everyone. I couldn't stay. I just... I couldn't."

Toji pulls you closer, his presence a solid, reassuring anchor. "You did the right thing by leaving," he murmurs, his voice low and steady. "You don't deserve to be treated like that."

You cling to him, as he gently strokes your hair. "I just... I hate feeling like this. Like I'm broken."

"You're not broken," he says firmly, tilting your chin up so you're looking into his eyes. "You're strong, and you're doing your best. Don't let that bastard make you feel otherwise."

His words are a lifeline, and you feel a spark of hope igniting in your chest. "Thank you," you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder.

Toji holds you until your sobs subside, his presence a calming force that helps steady your racing heart. "You need to rest," he says softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Get some sleep. I'll take care of everything."

You nod, too exhausted to argue. He helps you to your feet and guides you to the bedroom, where you curl up under the covers, the familiar scent of the sheets offering a small measure of comfort.

As you drift off to sleep, you feel Toji's hand gently stroking your hair, and the last thing you hear before you succumb to the darkness is his whispered promise.

"I'll make sure he pays for this."

The next morning, you wake up feeling drained but a little more composed. The events of the previous day still weigh heavily on your mind, but you try to push them aside as you get ready for the day. You have no intention of going back to the office just yet, but you know you can't avoid it forever.

As you sip your coffee, you hear the front door open and close. Toji appears a moment later, looking calm but with an air of satisfaction about him.

"Morning," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," you admit, though your voice is still a bit shaky. "Did you... did you go out?"

"Yeah," he says nonchalantly, but there's a hard edge to his tone. "Had a little chat with your boss."

You blink, a mixture of worry and curiosity bubbling up inside you. "What did you do?"

Toji smirks, but his eyes are serious. "Just reminded him that treating people like shit has consequences. And treating my girl like shit has consequences his tiny dick, small pea brain can't even begin to imagine. He won't be bothering you again."

The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine, but you can't deny the sense of relief that washes over you as you giggle at his wording. "Thank you," you say softly, reaching out to squeeze his hand.

"Always," he replies, his grip warm and reassuring.

Later that day, as you try to relax and recover, you receive an email notification on your phone. Your heart skips a beat when you see it's from Mr. Tanaka. With a deep breath, you open the email, bracing yourself for whatever it might contain.

To your surprise, the tone is entirely different from anything you've ever received from him before.

Subject: Formal Apology

Dear Y/N,

I hope this message finds you well. I am writing to offer my sincerest apologies for my behaviour yesterday. My actions were unprofessional and unacceptable, and I deeply regret the distress I caused you.

I have taken some time to reflect on the situation and realize that I need to be more understanding and supportive of my employees' needs. Effective immediately, I am offering you a significant pay raise and a bonus as a gesture of goodwill. I hope you will accept this as a token of my remorse and commitment to creating a better working environment.

Please let me know if there is anything else I can do to support you.

Sincerely,

Mr. Tanaka

You stare at the email in disbelief, reading it over several times to make sure you're not imagining things. A mix of emotions churn within you—relief, vindication, and a lingering trace of anger.

Toji notices your expression and raises an eyebrow. "Good news?"

You hand him the phone, and he reads the email quickly, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "Looks like he got the message."

You can't help but laugh, a sound that feels foreign but wonderful after everything that's happened. "Yeah, it looks like he did."

Toji pulls you into a hug, and you melt into his embrace. "You're amazing," you whisper against his chest.

"So are you," he replies, kissing the top of your head. "And don't you forget it."

After breakfast, you find yourself lounging on the couch, scrolling through social media and chatting with Toji. His gruff exterior and no-nonsense attitude often contrast amusingly with his tender, loving moments with you. Today, you decide to push that contrast to the next level.

"Hey," you say, looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"Hmm?" he replies, not looking up from his book.

"How do you feel about a little pampering session?"

He raises an eyebrow, his attention finally shifting to you. "Pampering session? What do you have in mind?"

You grin and head to the bathroom, coming back with a couple of face masks and some other skincare products. "I was thinking we could do face masks together. It'll be fun!"

Toji eyes the colorful packets warily. "Face masks? Seriously?"

"Seriously," you say, holding up a pink packet adorned with cute cartoon illustrations. "It'll be good for your skin, and besides, it's relaxing."

He snorts, but there's a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Alright, fine. But only because you asked."

You sit him down on the couch and start explaining the steps. Toji listens with an exaggerated look of scepticism, which only makes you giggle more.

"First, we need to cleanse your face," you say, handing him a bottle of cleanser.

He grumbles but follows your instructions, and soon enough, he's got a clean, damp face. You apply the mask next, gently smoothing the cool gel over his rough, handsome features. He twitches slightly at the sensation but remains still, his eyes fixed on you with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

"How does it feel?" you ask, stepping back to admire your handiwork.

"Cold," he says, deadpan. "And slimy."

You laugh, applying your own mask quickly before sitting beside him. "Now we just let them sit for a while. It's supposed to be good for the skin, remember?"

He sighs dramatically but leans back, closing his eyes. "If you say so."

You both sit there in comfortable silence, the minutes ticking by as the masks work their magic. The sight of Toji with a bright pink face mask is both endearing and hilarious, and you can't help but sneak a few pictures on your phone.

When the time is up, you carefully peel off the masks and wash your faces. Toji's skin looks noticeably brighter, and you can't resist teasing him about it.

"See? I told you it would be good for you," you say, gently patting his cheek.

He rolls his eyes but smiles. "Yeah, yeah. You're lucky I love you."

You spend the rest of the day cuddling, watching movies, and just enjoying each other's company. Toji's unwavering support and willingness to step out of his comfort zone for you make you feel cherished and adored. As the afternoon sun filters through the windows, casting a warm glow over your home, you realize just how lucky you are to have someone like him by your side.

In the evening, you cook dinner together, laughing and teasing each other as you chop vegetables and stir pots. Toji's culinary skills might be a bit rough around the edges, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm and a surprisingly good sense of taste.

After dinner, you curl up on the couch once more, this time with a cozy blanket and a favorite movie playing. Toji wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. You rest your head on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your ear.

"Thank you for today," you murmur, your eyes growing heavy with contentment.

"Anytime," he replies, his voice a soothing rumble as he holds you a bit tighter. "I'll always be here for you."

[steddieas-shegoes]

116. “you wrote me a song?” any rating! 💕💕💕

I really thought you'd go with something so obviously smutty just based off of you breaking my brain so often, but this is such a soft prompt. I made it sweet and also a little smutty (barely) 💖

Rated M | tags: modern au, rockstar eddie, making out, light frottage, fade to black sex

🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶

Eddie being holed up in his music room for hours is normal.

That's what Steve's telling himself, at least.

But ever since the boys had been back from their tour, Eddie had been...weird.

It wasn't necessarily bad, at least not at first, but the last few days had seen Eddie being unusually quiet and withdrawn, his mind clearly elsewhere while they ate breakfast together before he disappeared for most of the day. He would appear again by dinner, usually tired, and always a bit snappy, like he didn't want to be around anyone.

Steve recognized it, but didn't quite place it until today.

He was working on a song.

Eddie was like this the last time a song wouldn't translate from his head to the instruments or the paper.

It didn't make it easier to deal with feeling so alone in their home, especially not when he'd spent a lot of the last four months alone while he was on tour.

"That's it," he said to himself as he stood up from the couch.

He walked to Eddie's music room and knocked on the door, three knocks, pause, two knocks, just like always.

Their version of 'I'm checking on you, I'm worried, let me in.'

Eddie opened the door, dark circles under his eyes.

"Break time," Steve said, grabbing Eddie's hand and pulling him from the room, ignoring the sputtering protests.

"Stevie, no. I gotta-"

"No you don't. You can come with me for a bit."

"No. You don't understand, I-"

"No, you don't understand." Steve stopped and turned to look at him, hands on his hips. "I've been mostly alone for months and I thought having you back would mean I have you back. But you've been closing yourself into that room for days now and I miss you. I miss you."

Eddie's face falls, Steve's hands fall, and they both fall into each other.

Eddie's arms are wrapping around his waist as Steve lets out a sob.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, I didn't mean to make you miss me," Eddie whispered into his ear, kissing his temple, his jaw, his cheek. "I'm right here, love. I'm sorry."

Steve nodded, accepting the apologies, the kisses, the love he was being given. He wasn't ashamed about needing it, not anymore. Eddie made sure he never felt like he couldn't ask for the attention he wanted.

"What's got you so stressed in there?" Steve finally asked, voice muffled against Eddie's shoulder.

"C'mon, I should probably just show you," Eddie pulled away, tugging Steve back towards the music room.

Once inside, Steve was led to the couch and given a peck on the lips.

Eddie sat down at his keyboard and cracked his knuckles.

"I've been working on something since we were on tour, but I thought the reason I couldn't get further was because of my environment. But I've been home for days and it's not getting better. Every time I think I'm onto something, I lose it or it doesn't come out right or it doesn't fit with the rest," Eddie explained, gesturing wildly.

Steve watched with wide eyes. He always loved watching Eddie's passion flow through his limbs the same way it flowed through his words. It was one of the things that made him fall in love with him.

"Show me what you've got so far, then," Steve gestured for him to start playing.

Eddie wasn't one to hold back, but he hesitated now.

It only lasted a moment though, his fingers starting to flow over the keyboard and his voice starting to sing.

It was beautiful, and nothing like what Steve had expected, nothing like what Corroded Coffin normally performed.

The words were romantic, hidden behind a yearning, something Steve hadn't heard Eddie write since before they were together.

And then he sang a line that would've knocked Steve to his knees if he'd been standing.

"It's with a curse I leave you, it's with a curse I love you I can't find my way back to you tonight"

Steve immediately flashed back to one night in the middle of the tour, when Eddie had called him right after a show, something he only did when the show didn't go as well as he hoped.

He'd complained about the storms delaying their start time nearly an hour, and how Gareth was offbeat for half of a song, and how the fans didn't seem as into it as usual. And when he went to hang up, he said "I wish I could find my way back to you tonight."

Steve had been almost asleep by that point, but the sung line sparked the memory.

Steve stood and walked over to Eddie, cupping his face in his hands and swiping his thumbs across his cheeks.

"You found your way back to me now, though, baby. You always do," he said.

Eddie pulled his hands from the keyboard and pulled Steve down into his lap.

"I needed you then. I started writing this that night. Sorry it's not finished yet."

"You...you wrote this for me?" Steve asked, realizing now that there was a reason why he used that line.

Steve wasn't stupid, but sometimes he was a little slow.

"Yeah, sweetheart. I know you miss me when I'm gone, but you have no idea how much I miss you."

Steve knew, or thought he knew, that Eddie missed him. They talked every night before shows, and texted on Steve's lunch breaks and when he got off of work. But it always felt like Eddie got to stay busy enough not to think about missing him as much.

But this tour had been the first time Steve couldn't take much time off of work, only being able to attend a handful of shows throughout.

Normally, he spent more than half the tour with him.

Steve kissed him, hard.

Eddie grunted, surprised at the sudden intensity of Steve's lips on his, but didn't pull away. His hands gripped Steve's hips, leaving bruises as a reminder that Steve wouldn't actually need.

Eddie would be home with him for months now, enjoying the holidays together, visiting their friends and family as time allowed. He wouldn't have to leave for another tour until their next album was released the following year.

They had time.

But Steve's lips acted as if they only had tonight, his stomach already fluttering with need and anticipation of having those needs fulfilled.

Because Eddie would. Eddie always would.

He may not always be there, he may have to miss him, but he always got what he needed in the end.

The kissing turned messy, lips wet and spit on the corners of their mouths, desperate to keep sharing and tasting each other.

"Want you," Steve panted, bucking his hips forward so that his hard length finally got friction against Eddie's. "Please."

"Here?" Eddie asked, breathless.

"Anywhere, everywhere, doesn't matter."

"Oh my god. That's perfect!" Eddie pulled away, turning to the notepad on the sheet music stand.

Steve smacked his arm.

"I swear, Munson, if you don't focus on my extremely hard dick soon-"

"You're anywhere, everywhere But not here, not tonight"

Steve melted.

"That's good, Eds. It's really good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Steve kissed his forehead, smiling into it as he felt Eddie's shoulders relax. "Now, will you please fuck me on this bench?"

Eddie laughed and bit his shoulder.

"If you insist."

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: dokyeom + blanket

alternative title: coming home

pairing: dokyeom x gn!reader

genre: non-idol au, established relationship, hurt/comfort

word count: 1097

warnings: 1 curse word, reader falls over

event taglist (send ask to be added): @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8 @karionice @graybaeismytae @hopetiger10

To put it plainly, you've been having a bad day. 

Every day these days has been a bad day for you, really, and you don't even know why. Little things, like not being able to eat properly, or waking up slightly late, or simply having an off day have constantly left you drained and irritated. 

But today, you're even more so. 

"Stupid computer having to break down making me work stupid overtime and come home late," you mutter to yourself. It's dark as you fumble with the front door of your apartment, but your fingers aren't cooperating with you after having been cramped over a keyboard for so long, and you're cursing to yourself repeatedly by the time you do eventually manage to get the door open. 

"Fuck!"

And then you trip over the entrance. 

There's a pattering of feet coming rushing into the entryway where you're lying in a pained mess on the floor, a voice crying out in shock over the haze of anger and frustration and exhaustion blurring your senses. 

"Oh my god, babe, are you okay?"

Your head is pounding, limbs aching, but then there are warm arms wrapping around your torso, lifting you up onto your feet, and a face comes into view, frowning in worry while the hands keep you upright. 

Seokmin's expression is emanating concern, eyes warm and dim in the lack of light, mouth twisted downwards and he looks so lovely and worried for you that you can't help the way your own face scrunches up and you begin to cry. 

His eyes widen but he doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms even tighter around you, letting you burying your head into his shoulder. 

"Oh, baby, what's wrong? What happened?" 

He's warm, you manage to think faintly, smelling like a mix of himself and the scent he sometimes wears and home. You didn't even realize how much you've missed him until you were in his arms again. 

"Shh, it's okay," he says softly, holding you as you shake and sob in his arms. "It's okay, cry as much as you need, Minnie's here now. Everything will be okay."

And God, even as you're bawling your eyes out and hiccupping and wetting the shoulder of his shirt with your tears, you kind of do feel like everything will be okay. 

"I'm here, I'm here, shhh, don't worry. I love you. I love you." Seokmin says it over and over, his voice endlessly gentle and there's so much love bleeding into his words that you cling to him even harder. 

The door is still open, and you haven't even taken your shoes off yet, but Seokmin holds you and soothes you through the sudden tears until they die down and until you can breathe normally again. 

That's when he pulls away, face illuminated by the cold dimness of the night air, but his smile is full of wonderful light that makes him glow. 

He doesn't pull away far enough for you to leave his arms, and he gently strokes your cheek with one hand. "How was your day, Y/N?" he asks. "It must have been hard, wasn't it? That's why you're so upset today, hm?"

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak, and Seokmin coos softly. 

"Oh, my poor darling," he says, fingers trailing from your cheek to the back of your head to pull you into another hug. "Don't worry, you're home now. I'm here. Minnie will take care of you."

The third person reference makes you laugh, a small, bubbling sound. "Minnie always takes care of me."

"Mm, does he?" Seokmin says, and his tone is soft and teasing all at once and it makes you smile. He pulls away, grinning at you. "That's good. He's gonna be able to take care of you now."

"Will he?"

"Mhm!" Seokmin beams brightly, kissing you on the cheek before gently disentangling himself from you. "Let's get you out of your shoes first, baby. And how does a nice mug of hot chocolate sound?"

"Sounds good," you say, a little shyly, as Seokmin leans past you to close the door before bending down to coax you out of your shoes. "And…"

Seokmin looks up, and his face is so open and ready to accept whatever you say that your heart clenches, amazed once again that such a man loves you. 

"And what, babe?" he asks. "What do you wanna do?"

"Can we… make a blanket fort? Maybe?"

Your boyfriend blinks, before a starry smile spreads over his face. "Of course." He stands up, cupping your cheek and kissing you lightly. "Anything for you."

———————————— 💫

It takes two hours, because Seokmin insisted that you took a nice, relaxing bath while he set up the fort and the hot chocolate for you before promptly realising he couldn't do it all by himself, but by the end of it you're squished between your fluffiest pillows with a blanket over your legs and Seokmin against your back. 

"Feeling better?" he asks, chin on your shoulder. He kisses your cheek quickly. "We can sleep in tomorrow. I think you need a break."

"Tomorrow's the weekend, I get to sleep in anyway," you point out, and Seokmin makes a little "oh" noise before laughing.

"You're right. Well, even more reason to sleep in then," he says. "In fact, I'll hold you down if you try and get up before me."

That makes you laugh, leaning back into his chest, watching the shadows being made on the blanket walls by the small lamp in the middle of the fort. "I'll hold you to that."

He chuckles, a soft rumbling sound that tugs a smile up your lips. 

"Hey," Seokmin says suddenly, shuffling around so that he can hold his hands out in such a way that it casts shadows over the walls. "Guess what animal this is."

"Uh… a cat? A rabbit? A dog?"

Seokmin lowers his hands in disbelief. "A dog?" He puts his hands up again, flapping them around. "In which universe is this a dog, Y/N? Come on, what's this?"

"I dunno," you tease. "It looks like a turtle to me."

"If you get it wrong this time, I'm gonna tickle you," he warns. "I think you know exactly which animal this is."

"Do I? 'Cause I'm still pretty sure it's a dog—ah! Hey!"

Your protests are cut off by your own laughter as Seokmin's fingers tackle your sides, his smile bright and glowing gold with love and warmth. 

Your day had been terrible. Horrible, actually. 

But maybe it was all okay if you had a Seokmin to come home to. 

[bluestrawberrybunny]

My brain keeps giving me so many cool ideas to write about but then I sit down to actually write them my brain suddenly stops and I just stare at the screen…

Like, I have so much fun stuff for Schmicago and Apprenticeship (especially regarding the Puzzle Park Arc I’m working on I got so many plans for this y’all and it is setting up the newest big bad so well omg I seriously can’t wait for this thing I am going to put Mr. Puzzles THROUGH THE WRINGER /pos). And then I got the one-shot for @34saveme34 in the works too that I got so many ideas for too like… I reread the story this is gonna be based on too and got so many freaking ideas for it and my brain keeps buzzing with new ideas but then I… my fingers won’t move…

*dramatic sobbing* I bet tomorrow my fingers will magically remember how to type words onto a keyboard…

Same goes with drawing too… ugh…

Hopefully starting tomorrow my productive juices will be flowing.