#squishy once again coming through with the good prompts

[mochinomnoms]

"I want all of you. Every piece of you" + Sunlight with azul please! Fluff/nsfw

🦩

azul ashengrotto x gn!reader [tags] — nsfw-ish, fluff, lots of reference to the myth of icarus [wc} - 910 prompt 15: “I want all of you. Every piece of you.” song: Sunlight (Hozier, “Wasteland, Baby!”) note - idk why but i had a hard time with this one, so it's more romantic that nsfw. it's more alluded to it than explicit francesca (1k event)

“I had been lost to you, sunlight / And flew like a moth to you, sunlight, oh, sunlight / Oh, your love is sunlight”

Growing up in the deep sea, the only light was provided by bioluminescent algae shaped into lanterns. Not from sunlight. Growing up in the deep sea, the only warmth Azul experienced was from the embrace of his mother. Not from sunlight. 

So the early day sun peaking through the roof opening of the grotto over his eyes was still foreign, despite his time living on the surface. The warmth of the light was pleasant, however, it was currently blocked by something, or someone. 

“Azul, love?” you spoke softly as he sunk deeper into the water until only his eyes were visible. He felt a warmth in his cheeks as you admired him. 

“Come on, let me see you. My pretty, pretty boy.” 

It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him like this, but you’d only seen his merform once during his overblot. Azul wasn’t fond of the idea of letting you see him in his natural form, though. He spent so much time specially curating his image as a human, someone sleek, neat, and confident. Not this…squishy, wriggly, clumsy form he was born with. 

He was a creature suited for nothing but the dark, cold spaces of the deep sea, only seen by the bioluminescent patterning on his skin. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t want to go back to the docks?”

He flinched as he heard a splash, hiding behind a rock as he felt you move through the water. Azul rested his forehead against the cool surface of the stone, sighing and closing his eyes. 

“Please, Angelfish, are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to scare you…”

The sound of water alerted him to your movement again, though he couldn’t make out where you were without 

“I want you.” A soft hand threaded through Azul’s hair, making him open his eyes and look up at your form. You were sitting on the rock he rested against, leaning down as your hair fell over your shoulders the closer you came. The sunlight peering through the cave roof shone over you like a halo, you looked like a painting an artist made of an angel. 

“All of you. Please? My love?”

Despite his mind screaming at him to back up, to not let you touch his slimy, squishy skin, his tentacles had a mind of their own. 

One of his arms curled around your hand, another around your waist, two more around your hips, drawn to you. Drawn to your affections that you so freely give to a greedy man like he. Azul sighed again. 

“You’ve taken the water-breathing potion, yes?”

“Mm-hm, just a bit ago.”

“… Good.”

You gasped as Azul dragged you into the water as he sunk backwards. The water under the grotto was dark, almost black, except for the rays of sunlight turning the water into an ethereal green. Once again, Azul found himself beguiled by your visage, hair and clothes floating around you…his arms tightening his grip at the sight. 

They truly had a mind of their own, drawing their energy from Azul’s true thoughts and urges. And how could he resist when you so freely offered yourself, love and body, to him.

Azul tangled himself in your embrace, claiming your mouth with his, drawing your tongue into his mouth to suck and explore. He reveled in the whimper that left you, tightening his hold as his tentacles slithered under your clothes, groping and suckers leaving behind marks. 

“Mmmh, Azul…” You gasped, exposing your neck for him to suckle marks, trailing down your body. Several of Azul’s arms gently pushed your clothes and undergarments off to have easier access to you. His suckers attached themselves to your sensitive area, shivering in its taste. 

“I almost forgot the benefits of being in this body… I can feel and taste your entire being with more than just my tongue. Your pulse drums beneath my grip, the salt on your skin floods my senses, and the sweetness down here.”

One tentacle with a spade-shape was brushing over your hole, pressing in slowly as you clenched onto Azul’s shoulders at the sudden stretch. 

“S-slower, Azul please, it’s too much—AAAH~”

Pressing his tentacle dick into your heat, Azul nuzzled his nose against your own as he fell deeper into desire. He shuddered at the surrounding tightness, getting drunk at the pleasure of your being, at the kisses you fluttered against his face, at the thought of permanently mark you as his with more than just his seed. 

Like Icarus reaching for his love Apollo, Azul would gladly risk flying too close to the sun, and feel the intense burn of its fiery gaze. Unlike Icarus, the way you looked at him like he was the celestial body itself made him certain that you’d never burn him and cast him back to the dark sea. 

Perhaps it was the intoxication from the sybaritism in his veins, bringing him and closer to an orgasm, that would let you two see the god. But he had no need when you were before him, his warmth. The Apollo to your Icarus, the root to his pleasure.

The cry you let out as he brushed against a particularly sensitive spot, throwing your head back as the sun shone on you like a heavenly being, reaffirmed you as his own sunlight.

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 23 - "No, you won't understand, ever."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: Mentions of experimentation, death, and torture as well as mentions of character death

A/N: Well… this turned out not like I originally wanted it to go. It was once again a self runner while writing. I also advise to have read Prompt 13 before, since this is kind of like a continuation of it.

Duke was worried. Danny hadn't been to school for a couple of days now. That was not a good sign. The library incident had only happened a week ago and Duke had made leaps in his friendship with Danny because of it. The other Meta had opened up to him, well sort of, there was still a lot Duke was aware that he didn't know. But that was beside the point. Point was Duke had now a valid friendship with Daniel 'Danny' Nightingale, one that allowed him to be very worried right now.

Which led to him asking their teachers to give Duke all the materials Danny had missed out on for the promise that he would bring this to Danny's home. This was also how Duke got Danny's address. Even with their budding and reinforced friendship, Danny had pretty much avoided telling or showing Duke where he lived.

This was his chance now. No he was not going to allow any of his siblings to install any sort of heavy surveillance in or around his friends apartment that would breach privacy rules, but he would allow Babs and Tim to keep an eye on any surveillance camera already in existence. It was nice knowing that his family had his back when it came to the safety of his meta friend, but as it was with his family, if not watched they would end up on the side of extreme measures a little too quickly.

Now he understood why they said not to tell Bruce about his friend's status yet. That would have made it worse. Not that his siblings sometimes also already tended to reach into that dangerous area between still okay and too far into paranoia.

Either way Duke was now standing before his friend's registered apartment, schoolwork in hand and ready to knock on the door only for his stomach to drop when he realized that the door was not locked and a gap wide open. It wasn't like Danny lived in Crime Alley but the area he lived in was still not that safe to just leave your door unlocked.

His worries doubled.

After the library incident, Danny had told him about his situation a little. He lived alone separated from his sister, his only family left, in Gotham. He was forced into hiding after a severe incident in his home town through which he lost his parents. Because these Guy's in White still kept their eyes on his friends and sister he couldn't even risk getting into contact with them. Leaving Danny completely alone.

Duke hated that, to think that because of his Meta powers Danny was forced into such an extreme situation. He had wanted to explain to Danny that there were rights in place to protect him but the other Meta had changed the topic too quickly for Duke to bring it up. Explaining just a little bit who these GIW, Guy's in White, were. Though for some reason he couldn't believe that that's what these people were really called, he didn't press further.

Danny was still not opening up to him completely about the entirety of his situation or who these GIW people really were but he had shared enough for Duke to give his family an incentive to look into these people. He knew they had found out some things about this group of people but Duke had yet to take a closer look into that file and the power point Tim had apparently prepared on that whole topic alone.

Either way the door was open and unlocked, Danny hadn't come to school for several days either now too and Duke was worried! Excuse him for only knocking once while shouting Danny's name before just stepping into the apartment when he did not get an immediate answer.

"Danny?!"

He shouted once more once inside and taking a couple steps in he stopped appropriately when he heard a weird squishy sound under his feet. Looking down he realized he stepped into what looked like green goop.

"What is…"

He looked at it closer and then noticed that the green goop was also glowing and spread around the floor in a way you find blood in horror movies. Duke swallowed and placed the schoolwork in hand on the hall table before carefully continuing his way into the apartment, following the green goop.

"Hey Danny? Say something if you are here?" Maybe Duke should have taken Dicks offer to get driven to this apartment, if there was an intruder in his friend's apartment then Duke would at least have some sort of backup. He looked around the place though and nothing indicated an intruder or that a struggle had happened here. So maybe the green goop was just that green goop. Maybe Danny just spilled one of his science projects?

But the moment he reached the main living area he threw all these hopeful thoughts out of the window.

"Danny!"

He rushed to his friend's side having found him sitting against his living room wall. A bigger green puddle of goop was on the ground before Danny and a lot of it appeared to be smeared on his hands and forearms. The shirt he was wearing was clearly ripped and in tears and there appeared to be a wound on Danny's leg, leaking a mix of green and red blood.

The other meta had his head resting on his knees not at all reacting to Duke's calls and light touches to the shoulder. "Danny, hey, Danny? Comeon, can you hear me?"

He started to look around, wondering if Danny had a medkit anywhere in his apartment. He was already fumbling to get his phone out when the other suddenly slapped it out of his hand, glowing green eyes glaring at Duke. "Don't call anyone."

"Okay, but then at least tell me where your medkit is." Duke cooperated, he could find another way to contact his siblings later, for now Danny's health took priority and Danny clearly did not want for duke to call anyone additionally to help.

"It will heal by tomorrow." The other meta stubbornly said but that didn't help Duke's worry.

"It might heal by than but it still hurts doesn't it? So where is-"

"Just let it go!" Danny hissed burying his face in his knees again and Duke sighed.

"Danny, please."

"No." Duke let out another sigh at his friends refusal, and here he thought his friendship with was making progress.

"Can you at least tell me what happened? You didn't come to school and I got worried that these Guy's-"

"They didn't catch me." Danny cut him off once again and Duke felt some of his worry replaced with relief, but there was still a lot left. Before he could voice his next question Danny continued to muttered something, barely loud enough for Duke to hear.

"They killed him." Danny sounded so defeated and his voice was shaking slightly. Duke instinctively reached out a hand. "They killed him, I barely managed to get his core out of there but once I got here it broke anyway. I thought they didn't have a facility here but they have, there were so many and I only got one of them out and yet he still died and…."

"Hey, hey, hey, slow down. Danny, what are you talking about?" Whatever relief Duke had previously felt it vanished in an instant when Danny had muttered the first three words. He could only image the worst of things and from the sounds of it there was something, a facility that did something to Metas like Danny.

"The GIW built an experimentation facility here. They are resuming their damned experiments here." Dukes eyes narrowed. Not for long, he thought, once his family knew where they were that place would be raised to the ground in no time.

"Danny, can you tell me where that place is?" Probably not the best of times to ask his friend this but Duke would make sure that someone was going to take care of that place and that all the Metas there were going to be saved.

"It's no use. You won't be able to do anything." Danny instead muttered and Duke tightened his hold on the others shoulder, trying to make it as comforting of a touch as possible.

"Danny there are Meta rights, laws that protect us. Please, give me the location and I will make sure that someone is going to take care of it." That someone being his family, that he could promise his friend.

Instead of the trust he hoped Danny would give him, the other slapped his hand away and glared at him heatedly. "No! That won't work!"

"I know its, scary and I understand that it's probably hard to trust-"

"It won't work! It never will for us! We are not protected by law!"

"Danny, you are protected by law! The Meta rights are there to pro-"

"I AM NOT A META!" Danny suddenly burst out springing to his feet and distancing himself from Duke, his eyes glowing a vivid green. "I am not a Meta. I am not protected by your damned law, nore are the others! They can hunt us, experiment on us, hurt us and no one will give a good damn about it because we don't count as sentient!"

The other was breathing heavily and Duke couldn't help but get up and reach out in worry once more. Everything Danny had said was still running though his head and he wasn't sure what to make of it, but what he was sure about was that his friend needed help.

"Danny, it's okay. How about you explain it to me? Why wouldn't the Meta rights protect you? What makes you so different? I am I will be able to understand once you explain it to me and then we-"

"No. No, you won't understand, ever." Once again Danny sounded so defeated that Duke really wanted to just grab his friend and hug him. But instead he watched his friend closely, noticing how he clutched at his left wrist, for the first time Duke noticed the Lichtenberg scarring that was running up the other's arms from his hand peeking out between the tears of Danny's shirt. "You won't understand what it means for the law to declare your existence as illegal, to be trapped in their facility, to only be a number to get experimented on, to only be a number among many, to not be seen as sentient, to-"

Duke didn't care anymore as he lunged forward pulling the other into a hug. Ever since the library incident he had known that Danny needed help. He had assumed Danny was a Meta in hiding but it seemed his friends situation was so much worse than he originally thought.

"I will help you, I promise. We will free the others and then get rid whatever law declares you as an illegal existence." He pulled back enough to force Danny to look at him, seeing how the other was staring at him with suspicion and distrust but also there was hope in the others now blue eyes. "Explain it all to me Danny, I promise, Meta or not, I will find a way to help you."

[steviewashere]

Always Need You

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Vague Suicidal Thoughts Tags: Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst With a Happy Ending, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Needs a Hug, Hand Holding, Eddie Munson Overthinks A LOT, Reference to Hamlet, Steve Harrington Takes Care of Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Smart Steve Harrington (Because He IS), Perceptive Steve Harrington, Water Imagery, They Go to The Beach, They're Going to Plot Against Steve's Parents For @steddieangstyaugust Day 7 Prompt: Moonlight Though, I will say, I went more with moon rather than moonlight, but there's still a little bit in here about the actual moonlight.

🌕—————��� The sand is wet, squishy, and sort of grainy under his toes. At the edge of the water, there’s not enough of it to come rushing between his toes, but he knows he’ll walk back from here with soles painted brown. Little bits and bobs of gritty sand in the fine wrinkles of his feet. Probably catch some of the drier stuff, too. The ocean roars again; a big, cold, eye-catching wave crashing into his shins. Thank god I rolled up my sweats, he thinks.

It wasn’t his idea to come out here. Not out here as in right now, but out here to the beach in general. He’s never been. Doesn’t think he could survive if swept away into the ocean—though, maybe he’s alright with that thought. Passively and not, he’s okay with it.

Steve’s idea came one late night when his parents told him it would be good for him to get out of Hawkins for a while. Neither in an act of kindness nor grace, the Harringtons don’t do that. Him and Steve think it’s one big notion to follow through with the motion of selling the house—the estate he had joked once, empty silence following it that still haunts him to this day.

That alone had to be reason…18, he thinks, of all the reasons to come contemplating out here.

Out here. Out here.

Only thirty yards away from the beach house they rented for the foreseeable week. He’s having a good time, at least he believes so anyway. Hanging out with his boyfriend—which, shit, that’s the least plausible thing he’s ever heard in his short life—making s’mores around a screen-perfect campfire, holding each other close under a heavy and hot comforter while the cold breeze outside comes flittering through a cracked window, having sex for the love and no longer the thrill. There’s no thrill if they can’t be caught and there’s no thrill if they aren’t dancing around each other anymore. There’s a thrill to it, though, that makes him excited just to get his shoulder touched, but that comes from the lonely years that prehistorically predated all that he has now.

Thirty yards away from the safety zone. Or is it a buffering zone, he asks himself. It doesn’t matter. Steve’ll probably correct him on it for the fiftieth time and they’ll giggle like it’s funny, but sometimes he thinks he gets on Steve’s nerves after a while. Can’t even get your stupid brain to remember what he loves. What kind of boyfriend are you?

Out here, he doesn’t have to worry about Steve stroking his forehead and complimenting him all soft like. Because he can’t be read on the face in the dark. He can’t be picked apart in that silent, persistent, perceptive way that Steve knows how. Sometimes he wonders if the roles are actually reversed—maybe Steve is the freak, maybe he’s been stalking the entire time. Because how in the hell does he just know most days? The self loathing and the wandering thoughts and the kick to his own ribs…he’s picked up and carried by Steve’s hands after it all. It won’t be the last time, he knows that, but maybe the last time won’t be so far away.

The ocean waves crash into him again. This time, he staggers with the force. Hands plucking on the sides of his pants, trying to get them to stay rolled up. Toes clenching for purpose in the wet sand. 

He wonders if, when and how he falls, if he’ll survive the ocean. If it’ll be like surviving his brain the last few years. Bobbing and weaving and then getting caught on something and then drowning in that pocket for a while. He wonders what drowning feels like. 

Steve told him it burned. Steve told him that it was like an icy fire was making home in his lungs. Steve told him he’d never been more afraid of anything else in his life. Steve told him to stop asking, teary eyed and frightened. So he dropped it. He listened like an obeying dog.

Though, he wonders if, how and long he continued to ask, if Steve would’ve told him what it felt like to be heavy in the cold. If the imminent death that seemed closer and closer was easy to come to terms with, or if he wanted to kick his legs harder to propel away.

He shakes himself and rights where he stands. The wave recedes. Low tide soon, maybe—that’s more something that Steve would know, not him. Sometimes when he gets too big, he needs to feel small for a long while. He thinks the low tide is going to be soon. Sooner, if he continues to stay out here.

Now that the waters have lessened their work, a mercy cry, he hears more of the world. The cars driving by late night on the road just beyond the beach houses. Clicks of lighters and that first slow inhale. A far away boat, one long horn.

A stride of heavyset feet on dry to wet ground. The struggle, he thinks, of them trying not to eat it on the sand dunes. But the stampede gets closer, closer, closer still as he continues to stand. Eyes out on the vacant, abyss horizon. Water kissing the insides of his ankles. A calm, deep nothingness around him—he wonders if it would be easy to slip into it, or maybe he’s already there. I could live out here, he thinks.

“Hey,” a familiar voice pants on his right, “hey, Eds. Found you.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off of the water. Doesn’t blink. “Didn’t know we were playing a game of hide & seek,” he murmurs, but it’s more of a croak. It sort of hurts. Maybe it’ll stay this way, for his sake. But he doesn’t get what he wants, even when the mere thought manifests. He knows he won’t get it because he’s already melting with Steve’s warmth around him.

Steve chuckles deep from his chest. Shoulder bumping Eddie. Bare skin from elbow down on Eddie’s own. He’s warm. “I came out of the shower to an empty bed,” he murmurs, too. 

“Sorry,” he responds on reflex.

“Don’t need to be,” Steve brushes off—that perceptive way of his. “I saw you from the window. Thought I’d come join. Maybe the breeze will help dry my hair.”

Eddie gives a noncommittal grunt.

Almost in his ear, Steve copies him. “You’ve got that look on your face,” he whispers, “what’re you thinkin’ about, Eds?”

You’ve caught me, he wants to exclaim, you know me! How the hell do you know me?!

A million things, he then wants to say, a million pointless, probably concerning things.

He thinks about that Hamlet speech:

“To be, or not to be, that is the question: Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep, No more.”

The Hamlet speech that made him pass theater class. The Hamlet speech that he clung onto years after because it just made sense. For once, with this skillset and his wandering imagination, he could focus his brain front and center on Shakespeare’s words. It was the first time that Shakespeare ever made sense. Even as there’s a million interpretations, much like his thoughts, there was a certain way he read it that could only cover how he felt. A passive question he always asked himself. And yet, it was a non-passive question—he knew what it meant for him.

He’s thinking of the time he saw a murder of crows protect the limp, sodden corpse of a stray cat he once fed, now turned to roadkill. Of how he wandered close to them. Of how they didn’t ignore him, but rather let him pick the cat up and bury her in the soft dirt across the street. How they watched him pick weeds that resembled flowers enough to count as something. Like he did for his mom whenever he visited her grave, too young to have a job and couldn’t afford the big, fragrant bouquets that he saw others wander by with. He’s wondering if they both appreciated it, or if they pitied him like the fool he is—maybe they saw that he was trying too hard to make things right, as if it was his whole responsibility to mend the holes.

He’s thinking about the first time he had Steve’s hands on his body. Applying pressure to wounds that weren’t superficial in the slightest. But Steve had believed he would survive. He was the only one to believe it. He wonders if the rest of their crew looked at Steve the way Eddie’s mother probably looked at him when he visited. Pity, like he was a fool, too. Maybe love makes fools of all of them, pity or no—even in the good relationships, like he has now.

He’s thinking about how, even though he has a lot of good things, all of it doesn’t outweigh the terrible he experiences back home. It’s safer by the cold, crashing ocean than it is walking through the back ways of Hawkins. That says something, not poetic, he thinks.

“I don’t know,” he eventually says, “probably too much for what’s supposed to be a vacation.” Eddie swallows. There’s nothing in his mouth but words and teeth and his own tongue. 

He wants to be honest.

A moment later, he admits softer, “Thinking about dying. About…about if I’d survive being swept into the ocean. Probability points to a zero percent chance because I don’t swim that good.”

It’s quiet again. The way it was before Steve got here. Cars beyond and clicking lighters and small crashes of tiny ocean waves. So quiet, he thinks he hears the squelch of his feet in the sand. The squelch of him grabbing onto something before he drifts too far away.

“I used to think that, too,” Steve breathes. “Used to wonder about it all the time. If I’d survive the impossible. A car crash from any side, the drop over the quarry, Lover’s Lake and the ocean.”

Eddie looks away from the water, finally. Not a side glance at Steve, but something contemplative at his own feet. “What made you stop?” He asks quietly.

Steve shrugs, feels his shoulder brush. “I don’t think I stopped until Vecna fucking ate it,” he confesses in a low murmur. “Until I knew I was safe.” His hand, cold and slightly damp reaches out for Eddie’s wrist. Fingers wrapping around, not clenching or squeezing, just loosely grasping for purchase.

“I wish I felt like that,” Eddie sighs. “Maybe it’s just not in the cards for me.”

“Hm,” Steve hums, so clearly thinking. Probably mapping out all kinds of routes in that wonderful brain of his. His whole arm slips through the gap of Eddie’s, linking them together. “Did you know that the ocean wouldn’t be what it is without the moon?”

He looks to Steve at that. Questioning eyes and words bubbling inside. Can’t help himself, he laughs. “What?” He gets out between fits, “where did that come from?”

A smile adorns Steve’s face. A soft, thoughtful one. “It’s true, though,” he speaks, quiet and traversing, “the…uh…there’s gravitational pulls that come from both the Moon and the Earth. And these forces kind of work together. The pull on the Moon makes these bulges in the ocean, both where the closest side is to it and the farthest side. These make the tides go high, those big beautiful waves. And when the bulges are low, low tides are created.

“Without these forces, without the Moon, the Earth’s ocean would be only low tide. That means a lot of the smaller animals that survive off of these tides would cease to exist, the ecosystems would be absolutely destroyed. The ocean kind of carries the things these animals need to survive. And, well, without them and the Moon…poof…no more.” Steve’s smile doesn’t leave his face, but it’s stronger now that it’s pointed directly at Eddie. All of his teeth a muted white in the light reflecting off of the water. And his eyes glistening, dark in an abyssal way. His skin a dusty white-blue.

For once, he doesn’t know what to think. Or how to think. It’s as if the currents that activated all those burbling worries just ceased to exist. He’s a lot thankful for it, but he won’t say that yet. Steve’s got this look to him that reads more. More in the best way.

“How do you”—

“Science class. It was, outside of gym, the subject I was best at.”

Eddie probably could’ve figured. Steve’s always had this way to him that reads: diamond in the rough. Things waiting to be excavated. So he’ll go with it. “And…where is this”—

“You’re the moon to me,” Steve says easily, “you do this really wonderful thing to me, y’know? Make my heart race every time I look at you or touch you, even when I just hear about you. And makes my day sort of…worth it? Think it would destroy me if you weren’t here. If, after all this wonderful time with you, we got nothing together in the end.

“I don’t know…I don’t know where your brain is tonight or what you’ve been thinking exactly, but I can assure you right now you’re much needed. Not just for me, you know? Dustin looks to you for guidance all the time. All the time. He’ll come bug me at work, say something about Hellfire, and is usually saying: ‘I bet Eddie would know. He always knows.’ And it’s the same with the other members, I can tell you right now.

“Wayne would be…I don’t want to even imagine what Wayne would be like.” Steve’s eyes glisten impossibly more. Swallowing hard—probably consuming all that flickers through him, what those things are, Eddie knows better than to ask about them. “I don’t know what I’d be,” he whispers, “if I had to only wonder what you’d think or what you’d say when something happens. If I had to wonder because you weren’t…” His fingers are still wrapped around Eddie’s wrist, but now they tighten. Hard enough Eddie begins to feel the bite of his nails. Another swallow. Clarity. “My point is is that you’re a much needed presence in everybody’s lives and all those shitheads from Hawkins who don’t like you, because they can’t see the person you actually are, they can go suck a fat fucking egg.”

All the air in Eddie’s lungs leaves him, wheezing out of his mouth as he laughs something so loud and unexpected, he thinks it could rival the sound of crashing waves. “Wow,” he marvels, “you have such a way with words.” He squeezes the hand in his, fingers tight to Steve’s. “And for the record, sweetheart,” he says when he can fully catch his breath, “I wouldn’t actually do anything, y’know. It’s just…I wander, I guess. Especially out here. When it’s like only quiet and pretty and…The best part about this beach not even being close to Hawkins is that nobody here knows me. And I can just be. Though, I guess just being makes me think too hard. About life back home.”

Steve hums. Smile still stretching across his face. And with him, Eddie knows he’s safe. In their hold they have, in the light they share, in the warmth they’ve created. He can admit anything out here and Steve won’t stare at him strangely.

“Maybe we should find somewhere else to go,” Steve quietly suggests a moment later. “Now that the world isn’t ending. And we know that it’s all done for for good. We should go find a reclusive place to be. I’ve heard that Oregon’s got some great beaches. Washington and California, too.”

Eddie snorts. “I don’t want to laugh at your idea, but how on Earth are we going to be able to afford that?”

“Easy,” Steve says, “we goad my parents into giving me money. Maybe I…I’ll come up with some lie that I heard that they’re selling the house without giving me notice. Because I know that’s exactly what they’re doing. And I’ll threaten to like…I’ll expose them, that’s it! Ruin their reputation if they don’t agree.”

“It’s alarming that you’ve got a mastermind plan already building in that head of yours,” Eddie states. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. You always know how to get things done. What to say.”

A flattered expression washes over Steve’s face. But he doesn’t acknowledge Eddie’s words. A discussion for another time, then. Instead, he goes on, “I’ll get Nancy in on it, Eds. She’s been waiting since high school to take my parents down a notch. This is her chance. And this is going to be our chance to get away.”

“I’m with you so far, but I’m hung up on what I’ll do without Wayne.”

“Bring Wayne,” he says immediately, “he’ll have his own room and everything. We’ll figure it out.” And Steve’s eyes are squinted with his smile, his body lax and easy. He knows, in his own perceptive way, that they will.

“Okay,” Eddie gives in, “we’ll figure this out.”

Steve swings their arms back and forth for a moment. “Let’s go to bed, baby. I want to show you all the ways I love you.”

He can’t stop himself from letting out a giddy giggle. “Okay,” he agrees, “let’s do that.”

“And the ways I need you. Because I’ll always need you, Eds. Even when your brain goes elsewhere, I’ll need you.”

“I need you, too, Stevie.”

And as Steve pulls him along the dunes, sand sticky to the soles of his feet, Eddie takes in the roaring quiet again. Wondering, the only thing he can wonder, what it feels like to live in Steve’s heart the way he does in Eddie’s. He’s warm. He’s excited. And he knows, perpetually and no matter where they are in the world, they’re safe with each other.

Much like the moon will always be with the ocean.

🌕—————🌊

[reallydumbdannyphantomaus]

Holiday Truce

@ectopal so fucking sorry for the lateness!!! it has been a little wild in my life lately but i did get it done!!! i picked your prompt of dash finds out danny's secret in micromanagement. very sorry if this is not what you were hoping for, but here's what happened :D

“So,” Dash said.

“Uh,” Fenton said.

Dash looked at the shaking nerd in front of him. Fear, he recognized. Fear, he knew. He used it as a weapon, knew how to loom, how to make himself larger and intimidating. Hell, he’d seen it on Fenton plenty of time before.

Except this time Fenton wasn’t afraid of his fists.

“You’re—you’re he? Him?”

“No?”

“Are you lying?”

“... No?”

Dash reached out with a finger and poked Fenton in the shoulder. It was solid. Squishy, but he thought that had more to do with Fenton not being muscular than with him being a ghost. Still, he knew what he saw. This whole time, he’d been shrunk down with Phantom, the cool, brave, awesome hero of Amity Park, the guy he had a poster of in his locker. Then they get unshrunk and Phantom is gone. In his place: Fenton.

Dash wasn’t the best at math, but even he could add this up.

There were thousands of things he could have asked in that moment. Things he’d wanted to say to his hero for years. Thanks for saving us or Can you take me flying? or Can I have your autograph? Instead, what came out was: “So, are you dead?”

Fenton flinched. “No, I—it doesn’t matter. Just—just be quiet, okay?”

“It doesn’t matter?” Dash wanted to thwack himself in the head. He didn’t want to be continuing this line of questioning. Why was his mouth saying this shit?

“Not to you, anyway.” Fenton spoke with such vehemence that all at once Dash was reminded that Fenton being Phantom also meant that Phantom was Fenton. His hero was the same nerd he’d been shoving in lockers since middle school.

“Oh.”

“Look. Just don’t tell anyone, okay? No one would believe you anyway, so just don’t tell anyone.”

“Okay,” Dash said, voice thready and small. What else could he say? Fenton could’ve been kicking his ass all this time, but instead he’d been saving it. If nothing else, Dash could keep a secret.

“Good,” Fenton said, turning to leave.

“Why?”

Fenton stopped without turning around. “Why what?”

“Why don’t you tell people?”

Fenton’s voice was nasal through his sneer. “Try thinking about it. I’m sure the answer will come to you.”

—

The answer did not come to him.

He watched Fenton from a distance, noticed all the signs he dismissed before. Constant bathroom breaks. Bruises in the morning that were gone by the afternoon. Gasps of blue air that always preceded a ghost.

But he never saw why Fenton kept it quiet.

Teachers yelled at him for being late. Other students laughed behind their hands when he fell asleep at his desk. Paulina watched him rush out of class to the “bathroom” and whispered, “He should start wearing a diaper to school if he goes so much.” He tried to chuckle, but all he could manage was the slight curling of his mouth, and even that was strained. Paulina would never say something like that if she knew the truth. Fenton would have so much support from everyone in the school if he would just tell them the truth.

So, yeah. He didn’t get the secrecy.

Fenton, though, had avoided Dash like the plague. He’d never sought Dash’s company out before, but now the sight of Dash’s shadow was enough to have him scampering away. He tried to corner Fenton once, in the janitor’s closet, but forgot about the whole ghost thing. Since there was no one else around to see, Fenton just walked through the back wall, leaving Dash alone with the mops.

What was he supposed to do?

It felt like a secret of this magnitude should change things more. True, he couldn’t bring himself to shove people around anymore (what if some of them were secret heroes, too?) but otherwise, life went on. He went to football practice. He failed his math test. He laughed when Kwan made fun of Lancer’s pants falling down (again).

He stared at Danny Fenton across the cafeteria.

Danny Fenton did not look back.

—

No one in Amity Park liked the Guys in White. They only ever got in the way of Phantom trying to do his job, while being utterly ineffective. Even the Fentons did more to keep the city safe from dangerous ghosts—mostly through supplying anti-ghost tech and not through actual hunting, but it was still more than the GIW ever did.

So when the GIW locked down the school, most everyone rolled their eyes in disgust.

Every once in a while, the GIW had one of these sessions. He wasn’t entirely sure what the point of them was, but it usually involved a bunch of dumb questions about whether they’d talked to any ghosts. Like they were all conspiring against the government with the ghosts, or something.

(Well, he probably would, given the opportunity, but he hadn’t exactly talked to a lot of ghosts who weren’t trying to kill him. The only ghost he knew personally hated being in the same room as him.)

“Have you had any contact with the ghost masquerading as a musician, known as Ember McClain?” The agent in white drummed his fingers on the desk. Dash had the sudden urge to bite his pinky.

Dash furrowed his brow. “I think she is actually a musician, though?”

“What?”

“Ember. She does, actually, like, play guitar and sing. So I think she’s a real musician? Just. You know. A ghostly one.”

The agent leaned into his face. “So you have had contact with her.”

Dash leaned back. “Uh, no? Not since the time she mind controlled a bunch of us. Which I don’t think is my fault.”

“And you haven’t sought her out since?”

“Uh, no. I don’t actually enjoy being mind controlled.”

“Hm. And the menace known as Phantom?”

Dash barely kept his shoulders from tensing. “What about Phantom?”

“Have you contacted him?”

“I mean, he’s saved me a couple times. But he saves everyone.”

The agent snorted. “That’s what the ghosts want you to think, kid. Make no mistake: all ghosts are the same: evil, greedy, and power-hungry. We don’t yet know what Phantom’s true intentions are. It’s our job to get that creature off the streets and into containment, where he belongs.”

Dash was never the smartest person, but sometimes, when all the pieces were in front of him, he could add two and two and get four. He remembered the Fentons echoing the agent in front of him almost word-for-word. Or maybe this agent was echoing them.

Either way, Dash finally knew why Danny Fenton had a secret.

Dash curled his hands into fists. Fenton didn’t want to talk to him; that much was abundantly clear. But Fenton had still saved his life, saved the lives of everyone in the town, the world even. He could do this much for him.

“Look, dude, you think what you want,” Dash said. “I can’t exactly change your mind. Never been good at persuasion. But,” he said, and he stood up, crossing his arms and hooding his eyes, “no one else here believes your bullshit, dude. We know the truth, no matter what you say.”

“Mr. Baxter, the science—”

“I don’t care what studies you’ve faked. I’m telling you right now that if you seriously go after Phantom like you would any other ghost, you’re going to have to go through the whole town first,”

And Dash wasn’t very smart. And he wasn’t persuasive. But he knew fear. He was 16. This agent was probably somewhere in his thirties. By no means should the man be afraid of him. But Dash knew how to make himself bigger. Dash knew just where to strike someone, just what made them scared. This man was only as brave as his badge. A whole insurrection? One aimed at him? That thought terrified him.

The man was silent.

Dash smiled a shark’s smile. “Do yourselves a favor and leave Amity Park alone. We’ve got it handled from here.”

The door swung shut behind him as he left the agent alone in a dark room, still stuttering for a response.

[firewoodwander]

Hey!! Can I ask for codex and secret? 👀

Mistletoe prompts

3. Secret

Rex is sure he would much rather be any manner of places than here, currently. In his bed in the temporary barracks is top of that list. Crammed into his six square feet of shared quarters aboard Skywalker’s ship is third, beaten out only by the squishy cushions of the old salvaged couch in the officer’s rec.

Anywhere that isn’t here, is the point, surrounded by halls hat are too perfectly ornate and more than enough politicians to make him start looking for the exits.

He’s not alone, of course. Skywalker, Kenobi and Tano are here by personal invite of Senator Amidala, whose hospitality had extended, in some strange turn, to include Rex. There are senate guard posted at the walls but mostly the rooms have been secured by Fox’s men, patrolling in polished red armour. Thorn keeps catching Rex’s eye from one corner and tipping his head in the way that means he’s being laughed at and Thorn wants him to know.

But Rex’s real saving grace here is Cody. Cody at Kenobi’s shoulder or Rex’s elbow or teasing Ahsoka for the hastily-disguised scorch marks on her tunic.

She’d been summarily banned from the kitchens by Threepio, after that fiasco. Rex had told her that’s what she gets for sticking her fingers where they don’t belong—in not so many words.

But for all the stars are bright and the ocean is deep, half an hour into this gaudily lavish affair (“It’s a gala,” Amidala had hissed at Skywalker when he’d compared it to something far less savoury, “and it is important.”), without even a drink for his troubles, Rex wants nothing more than to escape onto the dark city streets.

“Hey,” Cody says, quiet enough no one else hears and close enough to Rex’s skin that he shivers. The back of his neck goes hot and prickly.

“You’re too happy about this,” Rex informs him.

Cody’s hand claps down on Rex’s shoulder and jostles him. It’s just as well that he doesn’t have a glass in-hand, although he’d have to have been considered more guest than spectacle to receive such an offer.

“I’m happy because Kenobi suggested we make an exit while we have a moment to breathe.” The hand slides down Rex’s arm into the crook of his elbow and tugs. “I assume he intended that effective immediately.”

Rex isn’t going to stick around for further clarification. He goes where Cody leads him and ducks behind a pillar when a waiting droid draws nearby eyes beeping at him to get out of the way.

“Fox is off tonight,” Cody continues once they’ve broken through a set of grandiose doors into cooler, calmer corridors. “He’s got some of the good stuff stashed away in his locker. Since he didn’t come to visit when we made planetfall, I think we should pay him a visit.”

Rex is still chuckling to himself when suddenly Cody yanks him aside yet again: this time into the shadow of a slightly more humble gilded archway. He doesn’t give Rex pause for breath before he leans in and kisses him—heavy, consuming, intense like he is about every last thing he sets his mind to.

The way Cody kisses never fails to steal Rex’s breath right from his chest; his heart jackrabbits in his throat and his fingers grasp at the folds and creases of his uniform sleeves.

“What was that for?” he mumbles, half dazed, when Cody releases him.

“Been wanting to do that all night,” Cody replies. Smug and satisfied like a fed tooka, he indicates the florally green plants strung around the entrance like in all the other decorated halls. “I don’t know the significance of that, but if Amidala reckons it’s a well-known tradition then I’m sure Fox does.”

Rex hums. “I suppose we should be asking him, then,” he says.

Cody draws him closer to kiss again, instead.

[venturethighs]

Butch!Slasher!Venture drabble because I am hyped up on Halloween candy and can't sleep weeeeeeeeeeee

AFAB!Femme!Reader! I'll definitely add onto this sometime because the next handful of Kinktober prompts are AMAB!Venture and I don't want AFAB!Venture to go without a little bit of love.

Almost makes me miss gangster!Venture but I know they are also well taken care of by their little femme reader too hehe

"Conejita..." Their calloused hand squishes your cheeks. "You're so cute..."

You smile as they continue squeezing your soft face. The two of you share the comfiest bed in their isolated cabin, their shrine to you located in the shed just outside.

What once was a summer camp of rage and destruction was now a getaway of peace and serenity. The two of you never had to worry about other people coming around anymore. Not after what happened. It still lingers in the back of their mind.

Desolation. Death. A deal with the devil. When they remember how hurt you were, the demon stirs inside them.

But when they see you smiling, holding your angelic face... it rests for just a little longer.

"You're so soft." They nuzzle into you. "And you smell so good..."

It's hard to put it into words– but you feel and smell like home.

They place a kiss to your collarbone. Their arms wrap around your midsection and they bury themself between your breasts. They're extra careful not to put their full weight on you.

"Mm... nice and warm." They sigh.

Their hands roam underneath your translucent top and grab delicate handfuls of your supple figure.

"Squishy... like a little bunny. My little bunny. Mi conejita..." They mumble.

You reach down and run your fingers through their brunette curls. They practically mewl at the affection, almost like a cat, and lean heavily into it.

Their hands push up the fabric of your top and place kisses everywhere their mouth can reach, grabbing at your chest and letting their fingers flick against your nipple on one side. Meanwhile, their mouth gets busy on the other, letting their teeth lightly trap the aroused bud as their tongue brushes against it lovingly.

Your toes curl as a whimper escapes your throat. Their eyes look up at you as your face contorts with pleasure.

They continue playing with your breasts– they knew how sensitive you could be, and they use this knowledge to their advantage. You arch into their touch, taking more of you into their mouth, softly suckling as their tongue continues swirling around your nipple. Eventually they pull away and leave a kiss behind.

Your breath is heavy as arousal pulses between your thighs. A hand flies up to your face in a desperate attempt to hide your redness, but they aren't having any of it. It's pulled aside so they can see you clearly again.

"Don't make me tie your wrists up." They lightheartedly threaten you.

"S-sorry!" You smile down at them as your face flushes further.

That adorable, doe eyed look... they could never do that to you. Unless, of course, you asked them to.

They lower themself further down your body and place kisses along the way, tracing all your stretch marks and kissing all the places your cellulite was more noticeable. They wanted to make sure you felt appreciated to the fullest.

Their hands firmly hold the sides of your hips as they finally position themself between your legs. Their breath is hot against your clothed sex, and they pull aside the equally sheer fabric to reveal you entirely.

"I– I know I need to trim a little." You passively glance away in shame.

They laugh.

"Please, I don't care if you shave or not." They place down a kiss to your folds. "I'll eat you out whenever you want me to."

Their fingers press against the top of your slit, opening you up further for easier access.

"Or whenever I want to." They add. "And I want to. Every single day of my life."

How do you even reply to that? Your heart is fluttering inside your ribcage. Their supernatural abilities pick up on this as well as your blushing aura, and they could practically feel your entire body heat up with excitement.

Their tongue presses firmly against your pulsating core and tenderly laps up all the wetness you have to offer them. The taste of you is enough to get them drunk, if that were possible.

They start off nice and slow, looking up at you every so often with those unfeeling eyes painted the warmest shade of hazel. Deep sighs leave your lips as your head sinks further back into the fluffy pillows. Every so often they place a kiss down before their tongue begins lazily licking you again– eating up all the sounds they can draw from you.

They switch between maneuvering their head and swirling their tongue for a minute more.

Then, without warning, their fingers dig into the side of your hips as their mouth bears down on you. The pace of their tongue speeds up as drool begins to pool, providing further slickness as they devour you whole. Your hand reaches out and grabs ahold of their hair, grinding up against their face as their eyes squeeze shut.

The only light illuminating the two of you is the moon hanging low above the trees. It feels like a dream– the pleasure stirring inside your hips and threatening to burst like fireworks.

They sense every ounce of it. Like a wolf stalking its prey.

Your moans echo loudly inside your shared bedroom as their name lovingly slips out between them. It only adds to the drive to please you, and your legs shake as the ecstasy heightens. You could never last long with them, and they pride themself on this.

The fingers holding your folds open make their way back to your creaming entrance, prodding lightly at first before one snakes inside. It curls and taps against your spasming walls, your hands now gripping the bedsheets tight as your throat grows hoarse.

A flicker of crimson flashes in their eyes. A second finger joins the first and creates a scissoring motion within.

You're so close. I can feel it. Their thoughts are clouded with the vision of you writhing in orgasmic bliss above them.

Their mouth wraps around your sensitive center and sucks softly. It's just enough to push you over the edge, coming hard against their face as cry out in utter satisfaction. The wave of your pleasure washes over you and them.

Just as they can feed off fear in others, your orgasm also provides them a sense of bliss and calm... just a little perk of being a demon possessed slasher, they suppose.

You fully collapse against your shared bed as heavy breaths rise and fall from your bare chest. They raise themself up and position themself next to you, holding you close as your head floats somewhere in outer space. Their lips press delicately against yours, and the taste of you lingers there.

"Little fawn." They nestle into your neck. "I love you so much."

As soon as you fully return from your trip to the sun, you hold them back and lovingly reach out to pet the side of their face.

"Not as much as I love you." You smile that same gentle smile they loved all too much.

They take your hand and place a kiss to your knuckles. "If only that were true."

"Who's to say it isn't?" You ask.

"Me. I know I love you more." They jovially argue.

You giggle. It makes their stone cold heart skip a beat.

"Maybe so. I'll still love you as much as you'll let me, though." You reassure them.

They'll never understand how you always knew what to say.

[sugar--brown]

The Goliath Paradise

It was supposed to be a whole fic but I gave up after recent lore update from Magoyond. But I still like the vibe so here it is.

For the @drcarmillaappreciationweek prompt four: crossover

Words: 3,575

Summary: Dr. Carmilla and the mechs are visiting a planet in another dimension in hope to find Nastya. They end up on Magoyond's planet. What I like to call "the french mechs".

Story under the cut.

Can't resist putting you the whole clip here.

“We’re here.” stated Carmilla. “Be on your best behaviour, I don’t want to have to deal with one of you infected.”

“Infected by… what?” asked Brian.

“By the Virus Z. You should be safe and not turn into an awakened, but I’m not totally sure how your mechanisms would react to a viral infection. And I don’t even talk about being turned into a voodoo! Even if you look more like monsters than humans by their standards, we can’t be sure.”

The crew exchanged a look, unsure of what the Doctor was talking about. Even Ivy wasn’t sure of what she was referring to. There was only one way to find out: they followed Carmilla out of the train, grabbing their luggage with them.

The Doctor stepped with precaution on the tiny platform, which tried to pass as a train station. She tested the wood with her cane to avoid walking on the rotten plank. Jonny wasn’t as lucky, because his leg went right through the first plank he put his foot on. He groaned a few insults.

“Why didn’t we go straight to the city again?” he complained. “I saw a brochure, they have a cabaret there!”

“And a palace.” added Tim.

“And a hotel.” pointed Ivy.

“And a circus!” shouted the Toy Soldier with excitement.

“Yeah!” complained Jonny again. “Why are we in the middle of nowhere? Aren’t we supposed to find Nastya?”

Carmilla stopped walking and heavily sighed. She turned to them, putting her two hands on her cane.

“Alright. I think it’s time I give you a few rules.”

“Rules?!” groaned Jonny.

“Yes. Rules. We’re not in the same dimension. We are in a new one on a very unstable planet. And we don’t need a genocide or the end of this system.”

She marked a pause, giving a good long look to each of her kids. She needed to be sure that they would be nice and calm.

“Rule number one: Don’t attract attention. No fight. No insult. No arson. No destruction. You have to act like this world is your original one, and you are mortals. Rule number two: Don’t interact with anyone if it’s not necessary. Like I said, this world is unstable. The tiniest shake, and everything will crumble on itself. Rule number three: You will do exactly what I say at any time. No questions.”

“Boring!” shouted Tim.

“Do you want to find Nastya, yes or no?”

Everyone looked away, guilty. Carmilla sighed and began to walk among the scraps of metal and wood in the mud.

“Come on, I know somewhere you will like. And there will be someone who can help us, hopefully.”

They walked for a few miles like this, nobody daring to protest again. But the travel hadn’t been without problems, the mud was squishy, and it was like walking in glue. Jonny had fallen three times already, dragging Tim down once. Brian had been forced to carry him on one of his shoulders, the other being occupied by Ivy.

But Carmilla didn’t stop. Even when her leg throbbed painfully. They needed to find shelter before nightfall. And she didn’t tell her children, but she wasn’t sure if her contacts would be there. It had been a few years since she had seen them. And if it was barely a glimpse for her, it would be an eternity for them.

A little anxious, she finally stopped near an old and abandoned warehouse. She could feel the questioning gazes of his children, but she didn’t explain anything. Instead, she used the head of her cane to knock on the door.

A few moments of awkward silence passed. And then…

“Password?” grumped a voice.

“Password? What password?”

“No one is allowed in without authorization. No password, no enter. Piss off, monsters.”

Carmilla winced. Right. She had forgotten about that. But she wouldn’t give up. She knocked again.

“Tell Le Mago that the only decent vampire on the whole volcano is here.”

Silence only answered her. But the tension was so present that she swore she could taste it. Then, hurried footsteps ran away. She hoped it was a good sign.

“Er… Carmilla?” asked Brian, unsure. “What is going on?”

“We’re here.”

“I think we understood that, but… Why are we going somewhere with no monsters allowed, whatever that means, and with a password needed to enter.”

“Monsters refer to every creature that is not human. Mostly zombies, but also: vampires, titans, werewolves, ghosts and legendary creatures… They are the overwhelming majority, and they hunt the rest of humanity. That’s why we're supposed to be monsters when we’re in public. Now hush, I hear someone coming back.”

A few clicks were heard, and then the door opened. A man with a station cap opened them, his eyes sleepy brushed over their weird group but shrugged.

“Alright. You are on the VIP list, you can come in.”

“My group too?”

“Sure, Le Mago wrote it could happen.”

Carmilla sighed in relief and stepped in, quickly followed by Ashes, who glared at the guard.

“Trap is behind the containers, watch your steps.” warned the man before going back to his nap.

She didn’t need to, she knew all the traps here. It felt familiar, even comforting. With ease, she used her cane to open the trap on the floor, revealing a long staircase.

“Alright, we’re going to stay here for a few days. I think you will find this place at your convenience. Don’t cause trouble, don’t get drunk, and play nice. Alright?”

Without waiting for an answer, she turned into her cat form and went down, disappearing in the darkness.

“What the fuck was that?” mused Jonny, still perched on Briar shoulder.

“Looks like the doctor made new friends!” cheered the Toy Soldier before going down too.

Then Ashes shrugged and followed, the others not far behind them. At the bottom, a heavy metal door greeted them. They could feel vibrations through it.

“Alright. Secret spooky doc’s double life, let’s go.” mumbled Tim before pushing the door open.

And the world exploded. Not literally, but it was how it felt when you spent an undefined amount of time walking in a muddy, silent wasteland and then coming in a full cabaret. The room was packed with people who were drinking, laughing, singing, playing… They were in an orange-red light from dozens of torches, except the scene, which had a white light spot. And the barman was serving alcohol, the clients were playing cards, and the workers were walking around in extravagant costumes. But what attracted their attention was the band on the scene, performing.

Dehors tout est désert (The outdoors are deserted)

Aucune âme qui vive, seulement des chimères (Not a living souls, only chimerae)

Ce lieu est un mystère (This place is a mystery)

Un tripot invisible, un speakers sous-terre (An invisible gambling den, an underground speakeasy)

Jonny was so focused on the singer that he was surprised when Brian put him down with Ivy. The Drumbot led them to a free table a little in the dark, trying not to attract attention.

À la lueur des torches (By candlelight)

Nous descendons des verres (We down our drinks)

Élaborons des plans (And think up plans)

Pour décharger nos revolvers (To unload our six-shooters)

Jonny grinned at the lyrics. Oh yes, Carmilla was right! He loved this place! Felt just like home. The singer looked like an interesting guy, walking around the guests, greeting each of them while giving everything he had in his microphone.

A trail of drinks passed near them, and Tim grabbed it. Everyone took a glass. They weren’t sure what it was, but if it was as good as the music, it would be a blast!

Le soulèvement des rescapés (The survivors’ uprising)

Des profondeurs de la cité (From the depths of the city)

L'insurrection s'installe (Insurrection takes hold)

The crowd was growing more and more agitated, and Ivy could feel goosebumps forming on her arms. It wasn’t the kind of establishment she liked to frequent, but the band was so passionate that she couldn’t help but merge with the general excitation.

Car nous sommes clandestins (‘Cause we are stowaways)

Nous ne voulons plus vivre dans les souterrains (We don’t want to live underground till the the end of days)

Que quelqu'un nous délivre, nous sommes clandestins (Let’s someone free us, we are stowaways)

Nous nous cachons pour vivre dans les souterrains des enfers (To survive we all stow away in hell’s dark passageways)

Au Goliath Paradise – oh (At the Goliath Paradise – oh)

Libérons-nous du mal – oh (Let’s free ourselves from evil – oh)

Gagnons la capitale – oh (Reach the capital – oh)

La rébellion s'installe – Goliath Paradise (The rebellion takes hold – Goliath Paradise)

The whole crowd busted into one voice, singing along the chorus. Some of them knew the lyrics, the rest supported the statement with screams and brandished fists. The mechs couldn’t stop themselves, but they joined the screams. Brian noticed that everyone was way more cheerful now than a few minutes earlier.

The singer seemed to notice them. He glanced and then smirked, slaloming between tables.

Vous êtes nouveaux sous-terre (Are you new under earth?)

Ici les humains vivent aux côtés de Lucifer (Here humans live at Lucifer’s side!)

Vous semblez solitaires (You seem lonely?)

Vous êtes pourchassés vous vivez un calvaire, oh (Are you hunted? Is your life an ordeal? Oh!)

Mettez-vous donc à l'aise (Make yourself comfy)

Rencontrez vos compères (You can meet the whole crew)

Et quand le bar sera vide (And once the bar’s empty)

On fera sauter la poudrière (We’ll blow up this joint!)

The singer snapped his fingers, and a server appeared out of nowhere to refill their drinks. Tim and Jonny cheered while Ashes raised their drinks to the singer. He mimed saluting with a hat, grinning, and walked back to the scene.

Le soulèvement des rescapés (The survivors’ uprising)

Des profondeurs de la cité (From the depths of the city)

L'insurrection s'installe (Insurrection takes hold)

Here came the chorus again. But this time, they were all ready. They were a band for millennials now, and they knew how to adapt to a surprise song.

Car nous sommes clandestins (‘Cause we are stowaways)

Nous ne voulons plus vivre dans les souterrains (We don’t want to live underground till the the end of days)

Que quelqu'un nous délivre, nous sommes clandestins (Let’s someone free us, we are stowaways)

Nous nous cachons pour vivre dans les souterrains des enfers (To survive we all stow away in hell’s dark passageways)

Au Goliath Paradise – oh (At the Goliath Paradise – oh)

All of them half-sang and half-screamed the lyrics with the rest of the guests. But at the last cheering, all lights went out. The singer stopped his show, the band stopped their play, the workers went completely still. Even if they couldn’t see it, they could hear an impressive number of guns being taken out and loaded.

Everyone held back their breath, looking at the ceiling, searching the tiniest clue as to whether they had to fight or flee. Jonny, Tim and the Toy Soldier had taken their guns out as well, Ashes was armed with a stick of dynamite, Ivy with her taser and Brian had clenched his fists, ready to interpose himself between his crew and the potential threat.

Then, a unique spot lightened up on the scene. Bathed in white light, a contrabass had appeared in the center. A woman with teal hair began to play the melody. After a moment of shock silence, a few people cheered, like they knew who the new musician was. Wait a minute. Ashes frowned… it was…

It was Carmilla! The mechs were in shock, their eyes wide open. They knew she had continued to play music after she left, but they didn’t expect her to highjack the show like this!

Brian feared that the whole bar turned against her. But the singer began to snap his fingers to set the tempo, putting back his six-shooter in his holster, a huge grin appearing on his lips.

Au Goliath Paradise (At the Goliath Paradise)

La rébellion s'installe (The rebellion takes hold)

Au Goliath Paradise (At the Goliath Paradise)

Au quartier général (At the headquarters)

Au Goliath Paradise (At the Goliath Paradise)

Libérons-nous du mal (Let’s free ourselves from evil)

Au Goliath Paradise (At the Goliath Paradise)

Partons de ce dédale (Let’s leave this maze)

Bit by bit, the musicians went back to play. Bit by bit, the torches were lit up again. Bit by bit, the crowd went back to dance and sing along.

Ashes realized that it wasn’t exactly like before. The band was playing the song again, but was composing around Carmilla’s contrabass! They knew her! And if that wasn’t a good enough proof, the glances the singer were giving the doc every five seconds were enough to deduce they knew each other very well. Well enough to let her highjack their performance.

Au Goliath Paradise (At the Goliath Paradise)

Gagnons la capitale (Reach the capital)

Au Goliath Paradise (At the Goliath Paradise)

La rébellion s'installe (The rebellion takes hold)

Prêt pour l'opération finale? (Are you ready for the final operation?)

Car nous sommes clandestins (‘Cause we are stowaways)

Nous ne voulons plus vivre dans les souterrains (We don’t want to live underground till the the end of days)

Que quelqu'un nous délivre, nous sommes clandestins (Let’s someone free us, we are stowaways)

Nous nous cachons pour vivre dans les souterrains des enfers (To survive we all stow away in hell’s dark passageways)

The singer ended standing up on a table in the middle of the bar, the crowd surrounding him. Every time he arched his back, the crowd arched their backs. Every time he raised his hand, the crowd raised their hands. Every time he stamped his foot, the crowd stamped their foot. He was in total control of the situation. But yet, he let the crowd take control to sing the chorus alone.

Au Goliath Paradise – oh (At the Goliath Paradise – oh)

Libérons-nous du mal – oh (Let’s free ourselves from evil – oh)

Gagnons la capitale – oh (Reach the capital – oh)

La rébellion s'installe (The rebellion takes hold)

Goliath Paradise!

All the light spots flashed all at once before turning off. When the lights went back to normal, the singer was back on the scene, next to Carmilla. Even was bowing and the crowd loudly cheered. The keyboard player started a record with background music on it and exited the scene with the rest of the band, Carmilla included.

“Come on.” said Ivy. “I think we should follow them.”

And the others nodded, already standing up. They made their way in the backstage, no one stopping them. They were led by loud, happy voices filtering under a poorly insulated door. Jonny opened the door without knocking, no care in the world.

“Oh I can’t believe it! You’re back!”

The singer was laughing, swinging Carmilla around in a hug like she weighted nothing. Three others men, all musicians part of the band, were looking at them with a little smile, sipping their drinks. And Carmilla… Carmilla was smiling too. In fact, she was melting in the hug. It was weird to see her like this.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to come back before centuries!” continue the singer with his overjoyed voice. “With your ‘I’m immortal and years are nothing for me so don’t expect me too early’ I thought you would be back for the end of the world! Not just ten years later! Not that I’m complaining.

“Oh well… you know how it is. The kids were in troubles and I need your help, so I stopped by. What a luck that you didn’t move your headquarters, even if it had developed greatly.”

“Ah! I knew it was them! I saw them in the crowd, hard to miss, but I didn’t know you were there too! And you know me, fucking around here and there, but mostly here. Easier to give a hand to an old friend when they highjack your show!”

They both laughed at that until the man with round glasses interrupted them.

“Talking about the kids, they’re here.”

Everyone turned to the mechs and the bald man made a sign to signify they could come in. It was Jonny who stepped up and glared at all of them.

“What. The. Fuck. Is happening?!”

The singer laughed and put Carmilla on an armchair before extending a hand to Jonny.

“You are Jonny d’Ville, I presume. Let’s see if I can identify everyone… The bot is Brian, the wooden doll is the Toy Soldier, that’s easy. So, I have to identify Tim, Ashes, Ivy, Marius and Raphaella.”

“Marius and Raphaella stayed aboard the Aurora, as lookouts.” cut Carmilla while accepting a drink from the last three musicians.

“Alright! I will say… mh… The guy with the different eyes is Tim, the person smelling like wood fire is Ashes and the last one is Ivy! I’m right?”

Carmilla simply nodded, an amused smile on her lips. The rest of the band cheered their singer.

“How do you know us?” asked Brian, putting a calming hand on Jonny’s shoulder, feeling him bubbling with anger, not liking to be in the spotlight without controlling it.

“Ah! It’s easy, Carmilla can’t shut up about you all. But where are my manners? Let me make the presentation: this is Aspic!”

The man with rounded glasses waved at them with a shy smile.

“He’s our keyboard and bass player. And also, our composer. Right in the corner is Nobru, drummer and co-artistic director.”

The bald man gave them one firm nod.

“The young man right here-”

“I’m not much younger than you.”

“… is Vito! Our lead guitar player and riff buster! And finally, myself, Le Mago! Co-creator, co-artistic director, singer and occasional guitar player! But you can call me Mago. We are Magoyond and welcome to our headquarters: The Goliath Paradise!”

The Mechanisms stared at Le Mago who stayed half-bowed awkwardly. When the silence stretched he made jazz-hands.

“You can applaud now!”

That made Aspic snorted and Nobru rolled his eyes. Le Mago finally straightened up and pouted, his ego wounded.

“How did you raised them, Carmi’? They have terrible manners.”

“If you think they ever listened to me, you are delusional. I had been airlocked more than once.”

“Wow, they are not kidding!”

Carmilla finished her drink and grinned at his friend. But Ashes interrupted them.

“Where is Nastya?” they asked with their serious face.

“Mh? How are you so sure that we know where she is?” replied Le Mago with an eyebrow raised.

“When you guessed our names, you never mentioned Nastya despite knowing everyone. I doubt the doctor wouldn’t talk about her. The only logical answer is that you know she couldn’t be among us, so you saw her before.”

Jonny gasped at that and Brian had to grab his hand and Tim’s to prevent them from drawing their guns. Le Mago was grinning like a madman, clearly amused. Aspic sighed and shook his head.

“We may had seen her a few months ago, yes.” he said, cutting short his friend’s game.

“Really?” asked Carmilla, clearly surprised to have information that easily. “How was she? Did she say anything?”

“We are not sure if it’s her, but since you are searching for her… It’s highly possible. Around eight months ago, some scavengers reported a thing from space had crashed nearby in the no man’s land. Some of them even said it was a human. Of course, no one believed them because it wasn’t possible. But they insisted and a few other humans went to check? They found a crater but nothing in it. Three days later, Mike – the guard – warned us that a young lady who looked like a zombie was trying to enter.”

“Nastya!” shouted Jonny with excitation.

“Maybe… I was the one who went to see. She looked terrible: clothes in tatters, severely burned, dried blood behind her head, a haunted gaze, frozen to the touch… But she wasn’t a zombie or a monster. She said she wanted somewhere to rest, just the time to heal.”

“She had a weird accent, like Russian or something like that…” added Vito.

“Oh yes, she had. She was spending her days walking around the no man’s land, despite the warnings, always coming back fine. And during the nights… the first ones, she had spent them at the bar, drinking our strongest alcohols. Not talking to anyone.”

“Didn’t even told us her name.” mumbled Nobru.

At this point, the mechs had decided to sat down to listen the tale. They were scattered all around Carmilla’s armchair. They looked like little ducklings surrounding their mom. Le Mago continued the story.

“At some point, we had a problem with our electronic devices and she was staring at us like she knew what to do and was baffled that we didn’t. I asked her to come take a look. She sighed and did. Fixed everything in ten minutes top! I hired her right away and we gave her the nickname of Little Lady.”

“Then She Is Here!” cut Toy Soldier with enthusiasm.

“Nah. She left three weeks ago with all her stuff and always refused to let us take a picture. But! We may have something that could help you to say if it was her or not. Aspic! Do the thing!”

[duesternis]

slams hand on button. does motorboating count for the prompts

IT DOES! thanks anon, let's get into it ;) You're getting SukuIta from JJK for this one

They're huge. Supple, when he doesn't flex, nipples pointed down, a dusky rose colour that makes Yuji's mouth water. Sukuna shifts his weight and his tits move with it, subtly jiggling. The groan Yuji lets out is entirely unvoluntary. It draws Sukuna's attention. "What is it, boy?" "Uuuhh, nothing?", Yuji tries, sweating, eyes still glued to Sukuna's naked chest. Sukuna crosses his arms under his chest, pushing the soft muscle up and Yuji groans again. A perfect eyebrow lifts, grin splitting Sukuna's face in two. "Something caught your interest, huh?" Sukuna lifts Yuji's chin up with a pointed nail and strokes his cheek mockingly. "See something you like?" "Uuuuuh," Yuji says again, eyes darting to the swell and dip of Sukuna's chest once more. His skin smells good, like incense and fresh sweat. Sukuna laughs, chest jiggling with the shaking of his shoulders. Yuji's hands come up in a half-aborted grab and Sukuna laughs more. "Asshole." "Aww, don't be like that. Come here." Sukuna grabs Yuji by the back of a neck, like a kitten, and shoves his face into his tits. "That what you had in mind? Pervert." Yuji groans, soft skin and that firm-squishy quality of a well-muscled, relaxed chest cushion him like a cloud. The scent of incense is stronger now and Yuji thinks the sweat might be him, and not Sukuna. "Ungh, nice," he mumbles and rubs his face on Sukuna's chest. It makes him laugh again, the vibration rumbling through Yuji aswell now. "Do as you like, boy, this is fun." Sukuna's nails gently scratch Yuji's scalp, the tingling going straight to his balls. But he's not one to disregard a blanket permission, so he puts his hands left and right of Sukuna's chest and pushes the supple muscle inward. It squishes perfectly, nipples perking under Yuji's thumbs. His mouth falls open, breath coming in short gasps, zipper tight over his growing erection. Yuji starts moving his head slowly, lips dragging over Sukuna's skin, from left to right and back. The hand in his hair tightens, pushes him in deeper, while another hand opens his pants, cupping his bulge in a huge palm. "Fuck, you're really getting hard over this? Pervert. For real." Yuji grins into Sukuna's tits, feels up one of the pecs a bit more, rolling a hard nipple between his fingers. Sukuna tightens the hold on Yuji's bulge. "Careful, boy." "Fuck off," he mumbles and licks a wet stripe between Sukuna's tits. Lifts off for a second to inhale deeply and delves right back in, motorboating those tits like his life depends on it. It's addicting, Yuji thinks faintly, sucking on a nipple for a little break. Sukuna looks at him with a lazy grin, slightest flush on his cheeks. "Get back in there, Yuji, or are you done?" His underwear is sticky, but Yuji lets off the nipple and squeezes Sukuna's tits with both hands, catching his breath. "I'll be done when you're begging me to do more than this." Sukuna laughs and Yuji delves back into his supple chest, lips dragging, breath coming in pants and bursts. His cheeks are wet with sweat and spit and Sukuna is rubbing up against him. Who would have guessed, that having his tits played with would get the King of Curses hot and bothered. Yuji laughs to himself and doubles his efforts.

[iloveyou3thousand]

Can you possibly do a fic where Peter almost drowns and it is what makes Tony finally realise how much he loves him?

You got it! I willpreface this by saying I am not a medical professional in the slightest soplease take the methods described in this fic with a grain of salt, it’s what I found online :p

CW: neardeath experience and near drowning.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Tony likedto think that they’d had plenty of incidents involving water, but then fate orwhatever-the-hell has a hold of life’s reigns rears its ugly head and Tonyfinds himself watching, mid fight, how Peter’s too-limp body gets thrown acrossthe bay, toward the water, and right into the path of an oncoming ferry.

There’snothing he can do, which is the worst part of it. He’s caught up in a wrestlingmatch halfway up in the sky trying to get these enormous, electronic wasp-likecreatures off of him before they can stick their sharp, metal stingers throughhis chest plating. It’s excruciating because this isn’t something that shouldbe holding him back. He should be able to handle a handful of dog-sized buzzers.He’s handled so much worse before.

And Peter’snot responding on the comms.

“Anyone goteyes on Peter?” He sends a powerful blast from one of his repulsors rightthrough a creature’s twenty odd eyes and watches as it freefalls down to theground below.

Several voicesin his ear regretfully inform him that they don’t or haven’t seen him.

As the oneperson who last saw him, Tony realizes he’s going to have to take care of thishimself. That wouldn’t have been a problem if he hadn’t been covered in meancreatures. He already hated those things enough as it was. Why’d they have toget that big? And that….advanced.

Tony keepsan eye on the bay. He fights his way through the swarm around him to get a littlecloser to the water, make sure he can see Peter the second his head resurfaces.The ferry speeds by but it’s going far too slow for Tony’s liking, who is stillholding out hope that the kid must have come up on the other side, out of Tony’sline of sight. That he’s fine.

The passingferry leaves the water restless, and there’s still no sign of Peter. Tony waitsa second. And another.

UntilFRIDAY informs him that Peter is unconscious, and taking in water.

Tony triesnot to panic. Peter’s been through a lot, he can handle more than most peoplehis age, he has those spider powers to hopefully at least buy him some time,right? Right. Except he’s not so sure of himself and he’s not about to take anyrisks.

“Someonehas to get Peter out of the water. Now. Right now.”

Natasha ison the other side of town. As is Clint. Steve is trying not to get stung andbarely managing. Thor is halfway across the galaxy, Rhodey is in London forbusiness, and Bruce is in Zambia to introduce a new vaccine that StarkIndustries sponsored.

If Tonydoesn’t get these wasps off soon he’s afraid he might not get to Peter on time.

He fightstwice as hard. Stingers scratch sharply at the suit’s plating, leaving gashesand scratches and dents all over, and he throws around repulsor beams morecarelessly than before, frankly not really caring where the blasts ultimatelyland. He needs to get to Peter. The kid can’t drown. Can’t go like this. He’ssupposed to finish college and start up his own company and change the future.That’s what Tony always envisioned he’d do, not play Little Mermaid at thebottom of the Upper Bay.

The secondhe sees an opportunity to get out of his personal beehive he shoots toward thewater, asking FRIDAY to locate Peter, and he has him out of there in a matterof seconds, but he’s not sure if it’s enough. Setting all his thrusters to max,Tony flies Peter off someplace safer, somewhere the buzzing doesn’t reach.

Peter’sskin is a pale blue, and Tony’s terrified that he’s too late, but according toFRIDAY his heart is still beating. He doesn’t wake up when shaken and doesn’tseem to be breathing when Tony tilts Peter’s head back and watches his chestfor any positive signs. Shit. Okay. He wastes no time immediately breathing valuableoxygen into Peter’s lungs and initiating CPR when that doesn’t seem to have muchof an effect. His suit peels away so he can settle his hands against Peter’schest and start pressing, his faceplate retracting so that he can speakdirectly to him and so that the voices of his colleagues still fighting thosecreatures far away stop and don’t distract him. He can’t remember the last timehe’s had to do this but FRIDAY walks him through it, sharing updates on how theboy’s doing but it’s not looking up.

It’sterrifying.

He puts hisfull weight into pressing down against Peter’s chest, his own heart beatingfaster as if it’s willing for Peter’s to do the same, inch back from howdangerously slowly it’s working the blood around Peter’s body.

“Karen,keep our boy warm, will you?” He huffs out, and gets a pleasant althoughvaguely worried affirmative. Peter’s suit dries in an instant, and warmth poursfrom it – something that will hopefully encourage Peter’s body not to give upwhile Tony works himself into a sweat giving compressions.

“C’mon,Pete. C’mon now. Not now.”

Tony’shands are shaking when he reaches for the kid’s face, fingers on his nose andchin to part his lips and force air into his lungs again.

He can’tgive up. He’s not giving up. He was supposed to be the one to go before Peter,not the other way around. The kid’s got his whole life ahead of him and Tonyshould have been able to see it all unfold. But Peter’s not responding, andTony fears the worst.

He pressesdown so hard onto Peter’s chest that he’s afraid he’ll crack his ribs, butPeter’s body is resilient while Tony’s panic grows. His arms are sore andaching, his vision blurry as he watches Peter’s motionless face for a sign, anysign.

“You know I’mnot quick to beg but please, kid. Please.”

Petersputters. Once.

“That’s it.Come on. Come on. There you go.”

He pushesdown again, and this time Peter coughs, but he’s not yet taking in any air.

Tonyswitches from compressions to rescue breaths again until he pulls back andPeter takes in a big gulp of air by himself, followed by wet coughing and hisbody turning onto his side, curled around where Tony is knelt on the ground.There’s water coming out of Peter’s nose and he flounders.

Tony wantsso badly to wrap his arms around the boy and squeeze him tightly when heactually starts to breathe in raggedly and reaches for him the second he openshis eyes, like he’s happy to see Tony, like Tony was always the person he’dreach for first when he wakes up from something like this.

In thatmoment, Tony has a million new ideas on how to improve Peter’s suit and heknows that he’ll lock himself in his workshop until the updates are finished,and won’t come out until he knows something like this will never happen again.

The poorkid is crying. Tony reaches down and lies next to him, keeping him in a safeposition while still being able to wrap him up in a firm hug and run a handthrough his hair. He can’t believe he almost lost him.

“It’salright. You’re okay. Deep breaths, I’ve got you.”

Tony’s gripon Peter is firm, his hands trembling despite his best effort not to show justhow shaken up he is from watching Peter lie there, bluish and still and notbreathing at all and…

Tony burieshis face into the crook of Peter’s neck.

He can’tafford to let that happen again.

He can’tafford to let anything happen to Peter, ever again. And definitely not if thereis something he can do about it.

“I’m neverletting you out of my sight again.”

Peter sitson Tony’s lap on the way home. It’s under the pretense that this allows Tony tokeep the boy warm, but he knows it’s mostly so he can keep a hand wrappedaround Peter’s ribs and count his breaths, and feel the steady rush of airagainst the side of his neck every few seconds where Peter lays his head. He’sseen a medical professional, and May has been informed and Tony promised thathe’s in good hands, that he’ll stay with Tony for the night – just so he cankeep an eye on him and have the potentially necessary medical supplies nearby.

Peter ispretty shaken up, but other than that he seems to be doing fine.

Tony doesn’tdare let him stray too far.

Peter’sbeen quiet since the incident, only answering to any questions the doctors had backat the med bay, giving the occasional panicked look when Tony was asked to leaveor whenever someone wanted to talk to him in private. It would have warmed Tony’sheart if the situation had been any different, maybe.

Tonycontinued to reassure Peter. Kept telling him he wasn’t going to go far, wasn’tgoing to leave, wasn’t letting him go through this alone.

“I’m here,”he kept saying, “Don’t worry, kiddo.”

At acertain point he wasn’t sure who he was reassuring more between the two ofthem.

Once home,Tony helps Peter eat something and tucks him into bed after he’s taken atentative shower with Tony right outside the door, but it’s not long beforePeter’s standing by the couch again, looking exhausted but too shaken to sleep.

And frankly,Tony’s not doing much better.

“You knowwhat?” He says, because he wants Peter to get some sleep above anything elseright now, “Let’s go see if my bed’s any comfier.”

Peter goeswithout protest, and when they’re lying down he doesn’t hesitate to tuckhimself up against Tony’s side like he belongs there, and Tony has the creepingfeeling that maybe he does.

He’s neverbeen more scared to lose someone than he was when he realized that Peter wasn’tbreathing.

He’s neverdreaded the realization that maybe he couldn’t save Peter more than he did thatafternoon.

Maybe it’stime to start accepting just how much Peter means to him.

Just howmuch he loves him.

And embraceit in the same way he now takes Peter so readily into his arms, tucking hisnose into the boy’s hair and letting his hand skim up and down Peter’s backuntil he feels him shiver under his touch and let out a soft rush of breathacross Tony’s collarbone.

It’s ascary thought; loving someone so much. But with every breath Peter takes and exhalesacross his chest, Tony’s a little more glad to be able to feel as much as hedoes.

Now all heneeds to do is find a way to show Peter.

He’ll workon that first thing in the morning.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Anklets and Necklaces

Inspired by this tweet.

@5-secondsofcolor I’m not sorry.

Female Reader insert. NSFW Content (18+). My smut writing is hella rusty. So I do apologize, whoops.

_______________

Calum plays at the anklet, spinning it around and around her joint as her legs are crossed and resting in his lap. The gold jewellry is hardly ever taken off since he gave it to her. In return, she gifted him a chain with a tiny pendant with her initial etched into the back of it. The front of it is an arrowhead. He wears it so often now, that when it’s off, he feels a little incomplete. It’s an easy gesture to carry her everywhere with him.

“Okay we gotta decide what to eat for lunch like now or I’m going to get hangry,” she states.

Calum glances up from his phone, to see her still scrolling on hers. “Oh no. Not hangry,” he teases. But he knows she means it. Her warnings have about a thirty minute window, just enough for a delivery if they get something simple. Or if they want something more complicated, they need to find a snack now while the main course is cooking. “What do you want? Thai? Mexican?”

“Would you hate me if I said I really just wanted nuggets from McDonalds?”

The pout on her lips makes him laugh, “No, I could never. Usual then?”

“Yes, please.”

Stretching across the length of her, Calum pushes his lips together, trying to ask for a kiss. She laughs in return and squeezes his cheeks. “Be lucky you’re cute,” she states before lifting up slightly to meet his lips. “And squishy.”

“Ain’t nothing on me squishy,” he huffs, straightening back up to put her order into the app.

She sets her phone down on her stomach, gazing up over the sharp line of his jaw that his plump cheeks sit atop. And while it’d be easy to return with a poke and a verbal jab about his cheeks, she just watches him. His fingers deftly work over the screen. The white tank sits as a stark contrast to the depth and glow of his skin. “I think all the right things on you are squishy.”

“Yeah, what are those?”

“Your cheeks. And as much as you and your trainer kick your ass, I know happy weight when I see it.”

Calum grins, a chuckle shaking through him as he sets his phone down on the arm of the couch--the order completed on his end. He pinches at her thighs. “Take that back.”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think I will. I like it--just like I like my cookies. Hard on the edges gooey in the middle.”

Standing for just a moment to let her legs fall onto the couch, Calum kneels onto the cushion, hovering above her. Her eyes glitter just a little as she talks and the soft easy smile on her face lets him know that it’s all out of love--what’s she’s saying. The pads of his fingers run along the side of her thigh. “Be lucky I love you.”

“I am already lucky, so say what you gotta say. Roast me, my love. It’s not like we don’t do that anyways.”

And truth be told, Calum had no response. Not when he looks at her, because God all he sees is the person that’s been with him on his bad mental days. She’s been there when Calum was sure there was no lower low or higher high. And what do you say to that person that’s been there, seen all of you that there is to see? With a gentle and chaste kiss, Calum settles for silence.

“Cat got your tongue now, huh?”

This--this Calum can respond too. It’s all too easy. “I know what else my tongue can have.”

“I know something your tongue can have too.”

“Really now?” Calum asks, dragging his fingers over the top of her thigh and tracing the line of her lounge shorts. “Food will be here in fifteen minutes though. So that’s up to you.”

“Not nearly enough time to savor it. Besides,” she starts and takes a pause. Her lips pull into a side smile and Calum knows what that means. One brow quirks in anticipation and Calum watches her. The silence settles for a little too long.

“Besides what?” he prompts again.

“Besides, I need the mail to be delivered first.”

“What did you buy?”

“You’ll see later. I promise. It’s really not even supposed to be used for lingerie. But I’ve wanted these for a long time and I specifically have a set I’m trying to complete.”

There’s the black mesh set that she’s slowly been building out. The main piece came in weeks ago, at this point it might even be months ago that that came in. He was privy to it then and gave it the christening that it deserved. But there wasn’t any other lingerie set that needed expansion. Not at least to his recalling. “Which one is it?”

“I’m not saying.”

“Oh please,” he whines, dropping his head into her neck. His lips softly and slowly seal kisses into her warm skin.

“No, Calum. I’ve been waiting on this package for weeks. It got held up in customs and I-” she sighs at his lips sucking at her skin. Not hard enough to cause a bruise, but just enough to make her spine tingle. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

Calum pushes up, with a huff, sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch. “This is killing me, you know?”

“Well, you ain’t dead yet. So I think you can tough it out for a little bit longer.”

“Begrudgingly--I want you to know that.”

She sits up, swinging her feet to the floor. “Your sacrifice will be duly noted. The mail will be here before you know it.” The couch releases her weight and Calum watches her pad into the kitchen. “Do you want anything?” she calls.

“I’m good,” he returns, knowing that he will be counting down the seconds until the mail comes. She returns with a glass of water, sitting back down on the couch, but bringing her feet up underneath her as she motions to the TV. “You watching that?”

Calum answers with a shrug. He wasn’t anymore. He originally turned it on mostly for the weather and some news. He found himself bored and flipping through channels before settling on the sports channel while he took care of Duke in the morning. Noise to fill the space since his brain needed the distraction. He hadn’t slept all that great the last few nights, decent sleep. The closer and closer the band got to putting out music the more his nerves kicked in--sometimes they were sneaky. The nerves come up faster than Calum had anticipated. And right now, they won the first round. But Calum was working hard to combat them so he could get about his daily life.

“Go crazy,” he finally verbally responds. And she picks up the remote, changing channels too fast for Calum to even understand how you could process what was on before decking it was a no. She eventually settles for HGTV--not quite caring what show was on. 

The first knock that comes to the door is the food that Calum ordered for the two of them. He answers it, popping up in the hopes it’s the mail. When it’s not, he sighs just a little but places the bag down onto the coffee table. “Your nugs, my queen,” he teases.

“Thank you, my good sir,” she returns with a grin, opening before divvying out what is for who. “You wouldn’t have happened to shot up like a bat outta hell because you wanted that to be the mail?”

Calum feels the heat in his cheeks, but bumps her shoulder gently. “No, why would I ever want that?”

“Oh I don’t know,” she scoffs in return, dunking a nugget into the sweet and sour sauce. They share a soft bout of laughter before turning their gaze back to the TV. Duke’s paws click as he ventures into the kitchen for a drink of water from his bowl. The lapping and splash of his tongue echoing just slightly as the screen goes dark between the show and the commercial break.

Calum lifts his gaze, taking in the soft angle of her jaw. She curls up around the carton of fries, eyes glued to the screen. Does she even have the slightest clue what she does to him? It’s not even the involved things like dressing up for him, or comforting him. It’s just her, when she’s munching on fries. Or when she sleepily walks behind Duke in the mornings. It’s when she hums as she cooks. It’s the dancing she does when she’s cleaning. It’s the pouts when she messes up on something and her brow furrows in as the determination settles onto her face.

It’s when she fucked up a birthday cake for him once--not greasing the sides of the pan enough and then adding a tad too much milk--called him crying about it and then in a minute flat resolved to make him brownies instead. Because she said she’d be damned if she didn’t make him something sweet to nibble on or pass along to the guys. And Calum’s not even that much of a sweets guy, which she knew, so she only settled on giving him half the batch she made. She, of course, saved the other half for her and her friends.

And it’s just the moments that she’s not even trying that makes Calum melt. Like when she paints her nails, she offers to do his first. Or when she lays down next to Duke, and in their shared silence, they seem to communicate everything with each other.

“I love you,” he states.

She turns, eyes widening for a second before grinning around her sip of iced tea. “I love you.” Her brows furrow just a little. “You okay? You’ve hardly touched your food.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“If you didn’t want McDonalds, I could’ve done something else. Literally anything else,” she continues on almost as if she hadn’t heard him.

“It’s not the food,” he giggles. Calum reaches out to caress her cheek. “I’m okay.”

She nods. “Okay.”

“I just love you, that’s all. Wanted to share it with you.”

Her grin is soft as it lifts her lips. “Good because you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

“I wouldn’t dare dream of getting rid of you.”

Another silence envelopes them. Calum finishes his food and takes the empty containers to the trash. Another episode starts up from the speakers and just above it, he hears the chime of his phone. “Do you want me to screen it for you?”

“Yes please!” If it’s one of the guys, they won’t mind her answering. If it’s someone important, he doesn’t want to miss the call.

“Calum’s phone,” she answers but he can already hear her feet shuffling to him in the kitchen. “Okay, Ash. I’ll keep that in mind.” Her voice comes closer and Calum shakes his hands just a little to get rid of the excess water before drying them. “No, I can’t say what it is without taking a look. Did you use the soil I recommended last time?” Another pause comes from her and when Calum turns, he finds her leaning up the kitchen counter, phone halfway pulled down but not fully away from her ear. “Yeah, I definitely think you should consider changing soils. But I can take a better look tomorrow for you. I’m going to pass along the phone now.”

She hands the phone over. “He said it was important.”

“Thank you,” Calum says in a whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then placing the phone to his ear. “Yeah, Ash?”

Calum’s not even sure how long the conversation goes on. At first, it is important information that Ashton’s trying to confirm--a date and time for a meeting that they had later in the week. He says he wrote it down where he writes down all their meetings but it’s not there. And Ashton’s trying to make sure that he doesn’t miss it. So Calum shuffles to his office and verifies in his calendar the time for the meeting.

But then the conversation diverges--they start talking about everything and anything. So much so, they’re laughing. Calum doesn’t even hear the knock at the front door. But he does notice her scurrying off into the bedroom. The door closes with a soft click. Duke comes trailing after her but notices the closer door and then keeps down the hall to the office. Calum reclines back in his seat trying to get another angle at the door. But it’s closed fully.

“You okay, gramps?” Calum asks Duke.

“Oh fuck off, mate!” Ashton laughs.

“Not you, you fucking egg. Duke--I was talking to Duke.”

“Oh!” Ashton giggles. “Sorry, I thought you was trying to talk shit.”

“I don’t have to try and do that to you.”

“Oi, don’t start something bro.” The two of them laugh and Calum bends down to scratch behind Duke’s ears. “Alright, thanks for confirming that meeting. I’ll see you tomorrow in the studio?”

“Yeah--bright and early. Talk to you later.” The call ends and when Calum spins around in his desk chair, his jaw drops as she steps out from the bedroom. It’s not exactly something new--as in something that she’s never worn before. But it doesn’t mean he ever gets tired of seeing her like this.

The white bustier pushes her breasts up and almost over the cups. And he travels the look down, taking in the baby blue skirt, fishnet knee highs. And he goes back up, taking in a black strap wrapping around her thighs. She notes the lustful gaze and steps right on the line of the threshold to the door.

“So,” Calum starts, trailing his gaze down and then back up to her face. “Not the black lingerie I was anticipating.”

“No, I’m waiting for the heels I want for that lingerie to go on sale. Besides, you didn’t like the collar I liked so I’m still searching.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t like it. It’s just too similar to one we already bought.”

“You’re right, but still.”

Calum cracks a smile at the reluctant confession. “But enough about that. This--this is a cute outfit.”

She nods, smoothing out the pleated mini skirt. “It’s less about the outfit and more about these,” she says, tapping at the thin black band.

“And those are?” Calum asks. It’s one step closer into the room and Calum think he can make out a heart shaped metal loop in the middle of it. She takes a second step closer and Calum can see clearly it’s some sort of thigh garter--leather or something related as the material. “Oh,” he breathes.

She continues slowly to approach Calum and when she’s just in arms reach, she lifts the skirt up. It goes up inch by inch and Calum’s entranced. Watching more of her thighs revealed to him. And soon it’s black panties--mesh and if Calum remembers correctly crotchless. But wrapped around her waist is another band of leather. Two pieces hook to another metal hoop right on her hip bones and then one trip connects the top piece to the bottom.

“A harness garter belt--what do you think?” she asks in a whisper.

Calum exhales, desire stirring in the pit of his stomach. He reaches out, wrapping his fingers around her thighs and pulling her into him. He kisses in the spaces between the leather, gingerly, lips hardly touching her skin. “I think you look beautiful,” he hums, dropping his head on his neck to look up at her.

Her eyes are still closed and Calum softly runs the tips of his fingers up her thigh, tracing the lines of the harness. With a deep exhale, she finally blinks back to reality. “Not too silly?”

His brows meet in the middle of his face. Why would she think it’s too silly? There’s nothing silly about her standing in front of him, clearly excited about her own purchase. “Angel--I’ll be damned if I ever think this is silly.”

Swinging her leg over and settling onto his lap, she grins. “Thank you, love.”

Calum holds onto her hips, rubbing his palms down to her ass. “So you said this technically isn’t lingerie?”

“No--I don’t think so. But I think they could be--a small accessory to something I already have.”

They share a kiss, much too quick for Calum’s liking so he pulls her back in for more. And her arms wind around his neck as he continues to palm her ass. Here, he doesn’t really care what it is technically or not. She looks absolutely amazing. “I like it. In fact,” Calum starts, moving to grip her thighs before housing them both up and then plopping her down on the desk. “I really like them.”

Calum stands between her legs, nose brushing and bumping against hers. Here, she can feel her core aching as Calum’s fingers trail closer and closer to her heat. It’s feather light--his touch, but it makes her feel electric all the same. “Cal,” she hums.

“Yes baby?”

There’s nothing that comes out of her mouth but a small huff, a rushed and harsh exhale at the feeling of his fingers dancing across her skin. He grins pulling back just a little to see the way her face goes slack, almost as if she’s at peace with him between her legs.

“Was there something you wanted to say, darlin’?” Calum tries again, taking just a half step back away from her.

With her eyes still closed, she smiles. “I want to know,” she starts, exhaling softly to counter the thud of her heart in her chest, “if you’d so kindly want to make love to me?”

Calum can’t help his own small tuft of laughter. “Darlin’, I’d do so happily.” They don’t always wind up in bed like this--but it’s nice, to be comfortable even to be this forward with this and this open.

Calum takes her hand as she hops down from the desk. “Give me a twirl,” he asks. She obliges, turning in a circle for Calum, punctuating the back view by lifting her skirt up. “Silly girl,” Calum laughs, giving a firm but playful tap to her ass.

Facing Calum again, she wraps her arms around his torso. “But you love it.”

“I do. I love you.”

They share another kiss and she slowly walks backwards out of the room. They get lost in each other--Calum in the way she fits against him and her in the way Calum holds her, palms spanning across her back and tight enough that she wonders if he thinks she’s going to disappear but gently enough at the same time that she’d love nothing more than staying here forever in his hold.

Calum finds the zipper to the top and slowly drags it down. The material exhales, slowly falling away from her body and when it falls to the floor, he kisses her neck, down to the swell of her breast. Her moans are soft, just above a hum that makes just enough noise for him to hear. And it goes right to his gut.

Here there's very little need for words. When Calum gives, she takes happily. But when she tugs at his hair, Calum knows to step back, lets her give something to him. Her kisses are soft against his skin, but make him feel like it’s being set on fire. One that he’d happily stay in, let the blaze consume every inch of him, if it meant that she was always the one to take him.

His shirt goes to join hers. Her mouth teases his nipples as she descends further down on him. Calum thinks he sighs, all he can do is just shut his eyes and let go into the feeling of her teasing the cut of his hips beneath the sweatpants. She’s always like this, teasing him. At first, it used to annoy him. But now he loves it, loves just how close she’s willing to push him to the edge, push his buttons but always delivering at the end of it.

Her meticulous work, to watch him jump at every scratch of her nails and nip of her teeth, is enjoyable. But Calum blinks open his eyes to cup her jaw, which stops her. When her gaze lifts, Calum motions for her to stand. “Yes?” she grins standing to her full height.

Calum presses their foreheads together. “I missed you.”

“Well how dare I keep a man like you waiting?” With a slow kiss, tongues just barely dancing, Calum walks the two of them to the bed. The back of her knees hit the edge of it and she buckles just a little. Calum catches her from falling. “Turn around,” he whispers into her ear, “please.”

The instruction is obeyed and she spins to face the bed. Calum finds the zipper to the powder blue skirt and almost doesn’t want to take it off her. In the end, he does-- Calum lets the skirt fall onto a pool at their feet. Without even prompting she falls to her hands, ass grinding against his hips. He traces her spine with the pads of his fingers, following all the way down, over the curve of her ass and down to the opening in the panties. His fingers gather a bit of her arousal.

“Oh,” he groans. “So wet for me,” he hums with approval.

“Always for you,” she sighs. Calum teases her clit--a featherlight touch as he dances over her core. She lets herself fall a little bit more into the mattress--another moan leaving her lips when Calum takes one finger down from her clit to teasing her entrance.

Calum pulls away, bring his wet fingers to his lips and sucking them clean. “Taste just like heaven,” he hums. He gingerly guides her back to standing and uses her hips to get her to face him again.

More kisses are shared before they fall onto the mattress. Calum takes hold of one of the straps around her thigh and tugs her down, closer to him and she laughs. It gets caught off and morphed into a moan as Calum’s tongue licks a wide stripe up her. He’s careful of the mesh material of her panties, but knows that carefulness won’t last long. Not when her arousal coats his tongue. Not when her nails scratch over the muscles of his shoulders or tangle into the curls on his head.

She melts under the work of his mouth. The mattress merely becoming the vessel to hold the mess she’s bound to make and become. The room echoes the moans and slurps. Fingers gripping at the sheet, she chants Calum’s name. His tongue working magic over her core and just when she thinks she couldn’t possibly handle anything more, she notices the stretch at the addition of his fingers.

“Fuck,” she whines, lifiting one leg and he slips in even deeper, curling his fingers and hitting just the right spot.

Calum hungers for her pleasure--the high-pitched whine and groan as she releases. Some days it’s just the sound he needs to ground him. She gives short and breathless huffs, and quivers underneath him. “Gonna be a good girl?” Calum asks, fingers still pumping at her.

“Yes, oh yes, I will.”

“Gonna cum for me?”

“I want to, yes I’ll come for you. Make me your good girl.” Her voice sounds far away, as if she’s not fully cognizant of what she’s saying. Not quite babbling, but definitely talking so fast words bump into each other and slur together.

Calum grins, sucking at her clit again and she groans, head throwing back against the pillows. Her toes are curling--her whole body growing warmer with the passing second. The heat coils in her lower gut and she’s pleading. Though, she’s not sure who she is really meaning to plead to, but she wants to cum so badly.

Then it finally happens, one moment she’s sure she’s nearly in tears and the next, the coil snaps. She squeezes, hips raising off the bed and Calum continues to ride out her orgasm, gently pressing her back down into the bed. She hisses and starts to push at his shoulders, the signal that it’s too much. So Calum places one last kiss to her clit before pulling away from her glistening core.

Beneath him, eyes fluttering close, she looks angelic. Calum holds himself up above her and just watches the way she tries to collect her breath. “You’re beautiful, you know?” he whispers, not wanting to shatter the silence.

“No kidding?” she teases, winding her arms around his neck. The necklace dangles just a little in her face and she takes one hand to trace the chain. Hooking her fingers into it, she tugs Calum down to her. The taste of her arousal on Calum’s tongue makes her head spin. Calum caresses her side and stomach as the kiss deepens. Here is all they need--the soft and deep kisses, the moans that they swallow from each other.

Her hands leave from around his neck and begin to push down his sweatpants and underwear. And he lets her, even pulls back to kneel on his knees as she sits up. Their kiss hardly breaks and she’s quick to tug the cotton material down, hands wrapping around his length.

He groans at the squeeze--nothing too hard just enough pressure to make his whole body ignite. Her hand pumps him, once, then twice slowly and teasing him. “Baby,” he sighs, relishing the feeling of her hands working over him. The stay like that only for a minute or two before Calum pauses her to step down and full disrobe.

When he climbs back onto the bed, he crawls over her. “Welcome back, handsome,” she greets.

“Oh, it’s so good to be back,” he returns, grinning.

She runs her fingers over the tattoos decorating his chest, out of habit, out of something to ground her for a moment. There’s no way he’s real and it shouldn’t ever shock her like this. But sometimes it sneaks up on her and the realization of how madly in love she is with his man hits her all over again.

“What are you thinking about?” Calum asks.

“How much I love you,” she answers softly.

“I love you too,” he returns, bending down to kiss her. It’s soft and sweet--the kiss. For a moment, they just inhale the breaths of the other. It’s a tender moment, one that neither one wants to interrupt, so they let it linger, smiling at each other. She stretches up to kiss him, one hand trailing between their bodies and Calum catches the hint all too quickly when she traces along his length.

“I haven’t forgotten, love,” he exhales in a breathy laugh. “Trust me, I could never forget.” Once lined up, Calum’s slow to sink into her. One, he wants to drag this out, enjoy every inch of him that she grips of him. And two, because he wants to make sure that even in the lull that she’s ready to take him.

Her head falls back, hair pushing into the pillow and neck exposing itself to him. A tempting sight but Calum loses himself in the feeling of her wetness. He’s slow, pulling out just a bit before sinking further back into her. Her sighs and words of encouragement are soft from beneath him but they fuel him.

The pace quickens and both of them groan at the ecstasy. Out of reflex, she lifts one leg to readjust her hip flexor and Calum brings it up, resting her ankle on his shoulder. He kisses over the joint and the anklet, savoring just how much of her he can feel like this.

The chain dangles in her face, brushing in the valley of her breast and she revels in the feeling of Calum reaching the full depths of her body. She digs her nails into his flesh, more curses falling from her lip. But some of them get lost in the groans that win out. “God,” she huffs. “You’re everywhere.” And though it’s a bit of strain to get the words out because Calum’s pace is relentless as he snaps his hips into hers, she pushes the words out.

“You always take me so well,” he praises, watching the way her face contorts. “Oh, so soon, love? You’re going to cum again for me so fucking soon, like a good girl.”

Her whine slips out first but she nods, feeling the coil tightening yet again in her lower abdomen. Her body is hot, and she can already feel the prickle of sweat on her forehead. “Please, baby, please,” she begs.

“As you wish,” he hums, his own orgasm approaching faster than he anticipated. His body humming as the warmth spreads. The bed rocks just a little, hitting the wall and the sounds echo around them as they sigh and moan to each other. But the only thing that really matters to them, is each other.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, voice straining as she orgasms. No noise comes from her, but her mouth opens like if she had the breath she’d definitely be screaming his name. This time the quakes last longer, her whole body shaking. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” he hums, bumping his nose against her jaw, still riding through her orgasm.

“Shit, oh my god,” she shudders, wrapping her arms around his neck.

There’s a slight hiss when Calum moves again, and he kisses over her face, starting with her nose and then moving to her cheeks. Another quake takes her and Calum, not anticipating it, groans-- his orgasm now right on the edge. It won’t be much longer, but she nibbles at his earlobe. “Thank you,” she whispers. “Made me feel so fucking good. I want you to cum in me. So fucking deep,” she hums.

And while Calum’s trying to get his own rebuttal to the tip of his tongue, she squeezes around him. “Fuck,” he yelps just a little, his body erupting with his orgasm. His body shudders and he’s so blindsided by the feeling, his slips just a little, more of his weight settling onto her than usual.

She doesn’t say anything, just hums at the feeling of him succumbing to the pleasure. “Oh, that’s what I wanted,” she encourages. It leaves her throat like a purr and Calum shivers again at the sound.

They lay together, for a moment, her nails scratching lightly at the muscles in his back. Calum sinks into her, body going heavy. Her slight shift squeezes around him and he groans, sensitive. “Don’t--I can’t,” he laughs.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” Even her own voice sounds heavy and slurred. She kisses his temple and Calum pushes up. He’s slow to pull out, enjoying the drips that follow of his own release spilling out of her. With one finger he gently scopes it back up and into her. The familiar twinge of desire pulls at his lower gut and it’s almost enough. She even shivers, but Calum watches the way her eyes stay closed.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Sleepy now,” she returns.

“Let’s get cleaned up first and then we can nap.” His voice sounds farther away towards the end of the sentence and she assumes he went to the attached bathroom. The rush of water from the sink confirms it. Something wet and warm presses against her--no doubt Calum with a warm washcloth.

The clean up is swift as both of them share a shower and then under the sheets, they curl up around each other. Calum kisses the top of her head as she nuzzles in closely. “I want pancakes after our nap,” she mutters.

“I think we still have some blueberries.”

She pops up onto her elbow and grins a little. “It’s like you can read my mind.”

Calum laughs. “Maybe just a little bit.”

[tomiokai]

the high school dream

haikyuu!!

navigation <- masterlist found here

[ sfw-ish? ] prompt: “move away if you don’t want this kiss.

koushi sugawara

notes: i found this prompt on pinterest and i wanted to write it LOL. i’ve been having some hardcore writers block and i just couldn’t decide what i wanted to write so i thought i might as well just write using a prompt. this took me way longer to write than i expected cause halfway through i took a break and just never got back to it.

cw: suggestive but no smut, low key kind of dark so beware, unwanted touches, degrading, gaslighting, toxic behaviour, bully/victim dynamic.

When you were younger, you loved watching movies in your favourite pj’s, pressed right up to the screen. You especially loved the ones about bullies who got karama and lost in the end. That’s right, bullies and bad people always lose. That’s what you kept telling yourself as Koushi Sugawara pinched your squishy thighs from beside you.

The desks were so close to one another and you hated it. It was the perfect distance for him to reach over without anyone seeing. What made it even worse was the fact the two of you sat in the last row together. Curse your damn sensei. Whenever you’re in this class, he always takes the chance to make your life miserable. He was insufferable and brought out the worst in you.

You hated how he sat right beside you in your favourite class. Hated the fact that he took pride in making you hate it. Koushi Sugawara was mean. He was your bully. He always presented a great image to everyone, making himself the golden boy of the school. With good grades, an excellent volleyball player and a smile that can make a grown woman melt. He was perfect in everyone’s eyes. Who would even believe a random girl if you told others about how he actually was.

You hated the fact that he was only mean to you. You also hated the fact that he gave you butterflies whenever he shows you an ounce of kindness when he’s messing with you.

You hated him.

People like him were no good and they deserve nothing. So then why was he so loved, adored, and perfect?

Fuck if you knew, you would probably be the smartest person on earth.

Although there was a time where you did like him, love him actually. He was your childhood best friend. Your one and only, and his one and only best friend. You’re not quite sure what happened but upon entering high school, he completely stopped talking to you. He would push you away and tell you to leave him alone. It was like he was a completely different person than the one that once nursed your childish cuts and kissed you on the forehead so you felt “all better”. 

It wasn’t until second year until Koushi started to play foul, God he changed for the worse so much for no reason. 

Your hatred for him was skyrocketing as you fidgeted with your mechanical pencil in your hand. Once recalling the past the two of you shared, fired up, your fidgeting with your pencil got out of hand and slipped from your grasp. It flew across the room and hit the floor with a loud thump, filling the soundless classroom.

“Miss Y/N! What is the matter with you?” your teacher sternly asks you as you turn your head away with red hot cheeks.

“Come on Y/N, tell sensei,” Sugawara whispers from beside you, his rough hands squeezing your upper thigh. You were so busy hating him in your own head, you didn’t notice his hands creeping further up your skirt.

“Nothing, sensei. Just thinking very hard,” you replied with a tight smile.

You caught a smirk from Sugawara from the corner of your eyes. He was insufferable in every way possible.

Yanking his hands off your thighs, you glare at Sugawara and face the front again. The hands that were previously exploring your thighs softly slam onto the table right beside yours. Your hand twitches uncomfortably on instinct. 

-

As soon as the bell rang, signifying the end of class, you gathered up all your stuff and rushed out the classroom with tears threatening to spill. A note was clutched tight in your fist.

You look extra good today. By good I mean slutty ;)

- k.s

You don’t even know why you opened it. You should’ve known it was something stupid. This was normal, a part of your everyday schedule, but today it hurt more than usual.

He had watched you open it, read it, and process it. He saw the tears forming in your eyes and chuckled to himself. He truly was cruel to you.

Pushing past the crowd of people in the hallways, you were determined to make it to the deserted girl’s washroom no one ever used and console yourself.

A teacher once told you, “If someone is bothering you, simply ignore them.” But how could you ignore Sugawara when he was everywhere in your life? How were you supposed to live in a world where Sugawara was constantly on your mind?!

“Do you know how hard it is to watch you santure around school wearing that short fucking little skirt? Flirting with every single guy you fucking talk to?

“Why do you think I do that? Koushi? I’m lonely. For my whole entire fucking high school career, I have never had a single boyfriend because every single boy I ever talk to walk away from me because your stupid stares shake them away!” You yell at him, jabbing an accusing finger at his chest. 

Grabbing your hand in his, he leans down closer to your face, “Why do you think I do that Y/N?” he asks seriously.

“I don’t fucking know!” you say looking away to avoid looking into his eyes.

“Because I want you, stupid.”

“You’re lying again,” you whisper slowly, voice laced with venom.

He looks you dead in the eyes and licks his lips quickly. “Move away if you don’t want this kiss,” he whispers as a warning.

Your brain was fighting for you to move but it didn’t budge. You stood there, your body completely frozen from shock. 

His rough hands from the many years of playing volleyball slide under your skirt and run it up and down your thigh. His face inches closer to yours and you shut your eyes tightly. 

“Tell me to back away, Y/N,” he whispers. The heat from his mouth ghosts over your tender lips as his rough words send shivers down your spine.

Electricity sparks through your body as his lips meet with yours. The kiss was soft, something you were not expecting. Your brain automatically commands you to return his kiss even though you wished it didn’t. 

Your lips moved in sync with sugawara’s as your hands raised from your side and went to his light, soft hair. Koushi lets out a soft groan as he pulls away to look at you. You bite your lip and look up at him with a mixture of question and embarrassment. You hated the way the kiss filled your stomach with butterflies. 

“See, now that wasn’t so bad,” Koushi says with a soft smirk, one that wasn’t meant to scare you in any way. 

You let out a soft breath and nod your head agreeing with him, because it was true. It wasn't that bad. 

“Good girl,” he says, pushing himself off the locker and walking away. You stared at his back and right as he rounded the corner, he flashed you a bright smile and disappeared. A wave of heat washes over your face, turning around to face the locker, you felt disgusted with yourself for finding that hot. Maybe somewhere deep in you, your twisted mind liked it. You’ve waited your whole high school career for your prince charming to come sweep you from this horrid place, but who knew, he never came. The villain has perhaps won and stolen the helpless princess and her heart. 

[papijean]

Congratulations on 1k!!! Ah you’ve come a long way and I’m so happy for you 🥳

May I please request a Eren and Armin with 44&46 prompt? 👀

claire bb I hope you like

1.8k words

"Will you let us fuck you?" + "I can make you cum harder than him" + armin and eren

Dating Eren always had its ups and downs. He'd go through phases of making it hard to talk to him or see him, other times he refused to leave your side. There were your fights, your near break-ups, and your heavy make-ups. Eren was a rollercoaster when he was in a relationship, but it always seemed to be worth it.

He was the kind of boyfriend that would come up with spontaneous ideas. Traveling across the country just for a few nights to get out of the city, coming home with a new pet, asking his best friend to join you in bed...

Eren was always full of surprises.

He was quick to notice your sudden plateau when it came to sex. Eren wasn't going out of his way to find something new since he was so busy and you couldn't even muster up enough energy to agree to sex. You need something new, and it just so happened his best friend was in desperate need to get laid.

Hearing Eren nearly plead for you to let Armin join you just for one night was enough for you to begin to feel a sudden ache between your legs. "Will you let us fuck you?" God, those words sounded so pretty come from his lips. Armin's eager blue eyes to match the excitement... you couldn't say no.

Eren was so taken aback by how hot Armin looked claiming his girl as his own he couldn't do anything but watch. Armin's lips were everywhere on you, he couldn't get enough. This was something he'd dreamed of for so long and now, to finally get it, it felt surreal. He couldn't wait to hear those pretty sounds of your Eren bragged about - especially when he was going to be the reason for them.

"More," you breathed out. You felt no shame being naked in front of Armin, nor how wet you were as his fingers plunged in and out of you instead of your boyfriend's. His touch was entirely different. Eren always held a sense of neediness and roughness, Armin was's touch was like a knife. Sharp, meticulous, empowering.

"More?" Armin slowed the pace of his digits. "Is she always this needy, Eren?"

"You don't even know," Eren groaned. He wanted so desperately to join in with the two of you but he was frozen to his spot. The sight of you getting pleasured by another man was too much for him; he swore he could have cum in his pants at you. "Give her what she wants or she'll whine."

"Want you too, 'ren," you squeezed around Armin's fingers. Both of them at once? God, you weren't sure if you could even handle it. Eren was so much on his own, but with Armin too? "Please."

His hand lazily slid up and down his cock. The tip flamed red with desire. Clearly, he wanted to be a part of this too. Eren pushed himself off his seat, shedding the rest of his clothes as he made his way towards the bed.

"Baby, you're ruining the sheets because of Armin," Eren teased. One hand rested on Armin's shoulder, the other teasing your clit only for a second before retracting. You knew his teasing, how he likes to see your back arch for more. "Like his fingers better than mine? Hmm?" You couldn't bring yourself to answer.

Armin pulled his slender digits from you to show off all the juices you coated him with. Without hesitation, Eren grabbed the blonde's hand so he could suck off every drop of you. He hummed with delight at your taste, sending a vibration through Armin's body and straight to his cock that was already straining against his pants.

A quiet huff passed your lips at the lack of attention. It didn't go deaf past either of them, both sets of eyes suddenly on you and the pout you wore. Eren pulled away from Armin's slicked digits with a pop.

"I told you she'd start whining," Eren rolled his eyes. "Fill her up before she starts complaining too."

Armin fumbled with the buckle of his pants. A sudden wave of nervousness hit him and he struggled with getting it undone. If it wasn't for Eren stepping in, undoing his belt, button, and zipper, it would have been embarrassing. Instead, the simple act had his cock twitching for more.

You could have sworn drool pooled at the corner of your lips. Armin wasn't as large as Eren, but fuck was his member pretty. A blush crept up Armin's neck and face as both sets of eyes were glued to his cock.

"Please, Armin," you finally managed to speak. You should have felt guilty for asking for him first instead of Eren, but you couldn't help but feel anything but excitement at the sight of him. It seemed your boyfriend was just as entranced.

Armin roughly grabbed your hips and in a single motion, flipped you onto your stomach with your ass high in the air for him. His smooth palms glided over the squishy flesh before suddenly leaving a harsh smack. The wave of pain rippled through you, protruding a cry from your lips at the action.

The same two fingers as before teased between your folds. He loved watching your body react to his touch, maybe more than he should have.

"Gonna suck me off while Armin fucks you, pretty girl?" Eren pushed the stray hairs out of your face. You nodded at his request, eager to be filled by both of them. "That's my good girl. Armin's got such a pretty cock, doesn't he? Why don't you tell him that, hmm? Ask for it nicely."

"Please, Armin!" Your voice raised as his teasing became almost unbearable. "Please I want your pretty cock, I need you. Fuck me, please, Armin." Eren patted your cheek, giving you silent praise for listening to him.

Armin abided to your pleas. The tip of his cock replaced his fingers, though the teasing continued. He wanted to watch you squirm for him, become so desperate for his length it hurt not to be filled. Eren, on the other hand, was quick to have your lips wrapped around his girth. He couldn't handle the teasing any longer.

The lewd sounds of Eren's cock slipping in and out of your mouth, along with the near godlike face he was making because of you was enough for Armin to cave. Your sopping hole almost felt like it was fighting against him you were so damn tight. He couldn't imagine how you managed to take Eren like this, it seemed impossible.

"Fuck, Armin, she won't stop moaning because of you." The vibrations of your moans rippled onto his cock. No way he could last like this if you kept up. His whole body was lit up with pleasure, and by the looks of Armin's hazy eyes, he was too.

His thrusts were slow, but it was more than enough to have you consumed with need. He left a bruising grip on your hips, using your body as the only form of stability. Eren's moans overpowered the room, shamelessly showing off how incredible you were making him feel and hoping it would get Armin to do the same.

"So fucking tight," Armin choked out. It felt as if you refused to adjust to his size, keeping that precious hole of your tight just for him. Every movement had you sucking him back in. Your body nearly collapsed as he suddenly sped up, sending you farther onto Eren's cock with every thrust.

Eren pulled away, letting you have a breath of air and giving Armin the chance to go as hard as he wanted without fear of you choking. A plethora of moans, cries, and half-attempts of either of the men's names fell from your lips like a waterfall. He didn't hold back, especially not when he could feel you squeezing him even tighter and reaching your high.

The sounds went straight to his head. The sudden cockiness he felt earlier was back and more prominent than ever. He felt as if only he could bring these sounds out of you, not Eren, not anyone but him. You weren't his, but god did he want you to be after seeing you like this.

"Fuck, I bet I can make you cum harder than him. Bet I can make you fucking scream my name, make it the only name you know."

"Oh?" Eren looked at him with curious eyes. He felt his cock twitch at the sudden challenge. It looked like Armin was close too, not that he could blame the blonde for losing it so quickly with that perfect pussy of yours. Eren looked down at you, too fucked out to even be paying attention to their conversation. "Hear that, doll? Think Armin can make you cum harder than me?"

All he got in response was a moan as the blonde repeatedly hit your sweet spot over and over again. Armin's smirk only grew. It took only a moment for the room to change. The moan of Armin's name ripped from your throat as your orgasm cascaded through your whole body. Having you clench so tightly around him, the sound of his name, it was enough for him to follow right away.

However, it was to Armin's surprise that he felt Eren's hand wrap around his throat moments before he let go. The lack of air to his lungs only urged him on quicker. He adored the way Eren's large hand so easily fit around his neck and the look in his eyes as Armin reached his eyes. The argument of making you cum harder than ever before was quickly washed away and the reality became his hardest orgasm.

Armin couldn't help but let his load coat your walls and the jumble of a moan where no one could tell who's name he was trying to say. It was all too much for him. Armin's body shook with pleasure, overwhelmed by the duo.

"Fuck," Armin couldn't think straight any longer. Eren let go of Armin, dragging his fingers down his neck and chest. The blonde looked so pretty when he came, and Eren only wished you could have seen the view too. Pools of his cum spilled from your hole, dripping down your thighs. He adored the sight, even if he knew he shouldn't have.

"What do you think, babygirl?  Did Armin make you cum harder than I ever could or do I need to fuck his cum back into you to prove a point?"

[citrinesparkles]

cat part four.

jason todd x gender neutral, cat lover (or tolerater) reader. 998 words. notes: part one here, part two here, part three here! the finale is here folks :) warnings: patching up wounds, self doubt, brief mentions of food.

he hated coming back hurt.

he couldn't stand the way the floor would creak when he landed inside the window, detested the way his own harsh breathing would echo through the living room, and absolutely loathed how quickly you showed up with tension in your jaw and concern in your eyes.

a small part of him was always grateful to see you, no matter the circumstances, but he hated making you look at the bad side of his 'job'. the blood, the bruises, the broken bones- you didn't deserve any of it, and he knew it, and it crushed him.

you helped dull all of the stings and burns and aches just by being there, but the selfishness of that was never, ever lost on him. not for a second.

you'd help him to the bathroom, asking him about what and where and how bad, and setting aside your own nerves to ease his own as he dropped himself onto the counter and leaned heavily against the wall.

you'd help him get out of his gear, always asking for permission and announcing each action before you took it and moving so gently, treating him with so much care that some nights tears would well up in his eyes.

this was one of those nights.

everything hurt, he was bleeding in like seven different places, and old self doubt and self loathing were trying viscously to climb back into the spotlight.

nights like these, it was hard to believe he deserved the way you were looking at him.

it was very, very hard to believe he deserved how quickly you recognized exactly where his head had gone.

"i don't mind doing this." you said it firmly, carefully smoothing a bandaid onto his cheek. he deliberately avoided your eyes, instead focusing on the stinging scent of antiseptic lingering on your fingers. "you know that, right?"

"mhm."

"jason, i really don't."

"it's not fa-" his bitter, grim argument was interrupted by the door bursting open, prompting him to shoot to his feet and shove you behind him in one smooth motion.

instinctively, he was braced for a fight.

"meow?" chewie announced herself, uncharacteristically quiet as she stood in the doorway.

"what the hell?" jason sputtered out, the question mixing with your relieved laughter as he stared down at her.

she ignored both of you and leapt up onto the counter gracefully, sitting down next to his hip and returning his stare with a quiet, calm purr.

he turned around, looking between you and chewie incredulously.

"so there's two votes for you being worth caring about, tough guy," you grinned. chewie ran her head into his hip affectionately. "are you sure you want to argue with both of us?"

"i- this- i cannot believe i'm being ganged up on in my own damn apartment." he tore his eyes away from yours, bending down to meet chewie's instead. "i share my tuna with you, and this is how you repay me?"

she meowed quietly, and the a single, tear fell down his face as he gently scratched her chin and felt like some kind of cinematic cliché.

"traitor," he muttered, blinking fiercely.

your hand found his shoulder tentatively, brushing it in a silent question. he answered by leaning into your touch, prompting you to shift into his personal space.

"hey," he said softly a few moments later. "what if we adopted her?"

"what if we did?"

he chose to ignore the traces of amusement and duh in your voice. "i promise not to train her to fight crime or dress her up like a stoplight."

"oh, har-dee-har. you are hilarious."

"is that a yes?"

"of course it is, goofball." you patted his back affectionately, making the warmth in his chest surge again. "she has a designated chair in the living room. you're literally the only one here that didn't know she was staying."

chewie meowed, and jason had a sneaking suspicion she was bragging somehow.

-

"alright, it looks like you're all good to go!" the nurse said happily, settling chewie's carrier onto the table in front of the two of you and handing jason a thin stack of paper. "here's your copy of her records, and here-" she passed him a red collar- "is her tag. i just need you to sign this real quick for me and you can get on your way!"

the room fell silent and his eyes fell to the paperwork. the vet had already explained everything written on it, details about vaccinations and checkups and other suggested practices and behaviors.

he dropped his gaze once more to find bold letters printed in the lower corner.

'chewie todd', right next to a dotted line.

suddenly, he was twelve years old again, sitting in a similarly cold room on a similarly uncomfortable couch, watching bruce wayne grin and laugh with some lawyer and sign a stack of papers.

then, he turned to jason with a much more genuine smile, quietly passing him a pen and pointing to a line, not in instruction but in invitation.

"jay?" your voice called him back to the present, pulling his eyes to your concerned features. "you okay?"

he studied you for a moment before turning to the carrier to find chewie's face smooshing against the door to watch him.

a laugh escaped him, and he nudged your knee with his own. "i'm better than squishy over there."

you nudged him back, chuckling at her. "maybe she wants to get back home."

home.

yeah, he thought, scribbling his name onto the paper and passing it to the nurse with a grin. i can work with that.

-

"chewbacca todd," you heard mutter in the kitchen that night. "how does that sound to you?"

"mrow!"

"you're right, it sounds like the kind of cat that needs some extra tuna as a special treat. brilliant suggestion."

"mrow?"

yeah, you thought with a fond sense of peace settling into your chest. i could get used to this.

[binniesthighs]

[01:53]

nsfw. seo changbin. fem reader. soft sex. strings attached. 2.2k

✨ you've got mail! read below! ✨

wet hair dripping; just enough to send a slight shiver down every bone in your spine. smooth skin crinkles with the bedsheets just washed and your skin still dewy from the droplets that remain. under your head his hand snakes to cradle the back of your neck pulling you deeper into him.

the rest of your body caves at his touch tracing down your stomach to pull aside the robe which has untied itself around your waist. his fingertips tickle with his touch gentle enough to make you feel as if he fears he could break you. your bare and vulnerable form quivers for him as he presses his weight down upon you with a chest swelling with pink heat.

with him you bare everything: every single part of yourself you hide to yourself only for your own eyes to see. you share yourself with him now, taking immediate notice to how the way his eyes dredge over your body as if the very sight of you can satiate him. he grins, running his hand up and down your side threatening to tickle the goosebumps he creates himself.

your hands wrap their way around his back which stretches wide and fleshy, squishy even where his muscles tense and twist dipping his body over yours. his elbows dig deep into the mattress leading up to his hands which find the sides of your cheeks and caress into them as soft as seafoam. he smells of the scent which you keep trapped in your bed, and absorb into your own clothes to take in every bit of his comfort.

his lips attach with yours lightly at first, brushing over the space where you bite in your nervousness, but he doesn't even notice. he traces careful shapes into your mouth which feels too raw to be anything that you could never experience. the skin on skin of him becoming one with you like this is your safe place. a tiny grin forms between his lips as he presses deeply into your parted lips, teasing the warmth from his tongue against your bottom lip.

hips grind down harder, and press you into the bed where you feel a quick friction between your bare hips and his. his skin smells of the water caught up in sudsy soap that had existed on him only moments ago. you gasp, now realizing that it's the heat from his hardened member which presses into your folds teased open by your restless legs.

you gasp into his mouth, only for him to suck your breath right back into his own lungs. "bin--" you whimper, for him to feel the vibrations of his own name upon his lip.

"you want to do this?" he hushes between each careful kiss from him to you.

"yes." you agree, hands finding their way now to the sides of his face to rub over each and every curve, including the scar lined right under his chin.

changbin leads his way down your jaw, sucking harder as he trails to your neck and the soft parts to your nape. he nibbles, pursing his lips so that your sensitivity can feel every ounce of his attention. the soft wet of his kisses hits the air in the room, and your body cools from the shower. your hips buckle upward to beg him for more.

"impatient?" he tsks, "aww, baby..." he coos his words as if he wants to scold you, but you know he never could when its like this.

you're starved of him, starved from not being this close for so long, starved after life got in the way of you and him. being close with him as such, feeling the way that he loves you beyond words has been something you hadn't felt ever since life got more complicated.

you knew though he would always wait for you.

changbin takes the hint, kissing a couple last kisses directly into your neck while wrapping his arms around your back.

"i'm assuming that you want to be on top first?" he smirks; the same little sideways grin that makes you feel like you're beautifully melting from the inside.

you look up to him where his dark hair falls over his forehead. "mm, you know me so well."

the both of you switch positions, giving you all the space to do as you please to your boyfriend waiting patiently and gleefully under your touch.

"it's been a while." you begin, imitating the same kisses that he gave to you before. you paint them onto his chest, his neck, his collarbones, and waterfall then down his stomach as his sides twitch. his chest takes in each of his inhales deeply, allowing you to feel the influence that you now have over his body. his teeth bite as his lip after his eyes wander to your nails digging after each kiss you plant.

"god--feels so fucking good, angel." he laughs out with an air.

"i haven't even started yet?" you tease finally reaching down to his pelvis.

"just watching you...it's enough for me..." changbin throws his head back, partially to hide his obvious grin, but also to steady himself once you begin.

at first, you squeeze, giving his cock the pleasure that you know that he craves. from the single action alone his tip beats with the stringy pre-cum eager enough to drip to your hand. his thighs shake, and soon you feel his grip dig into your shoulder.

"look me baby." he asks, pulling you by the chin. he basks in you and how unreal you look just like this for him, and no one else. his hand falls, not able to wait a second longer.

your lips loosely part around his heart-shaped tip, letting your salvia mix with his own excitement and swirl on your tongue. you know he doesn't mind it sloppier, choosing to grant him the gift of hearing each and every one of your kisses to his head while running your hand down his shaft. every vein throbbing there bumps against your palm, prompting you to squeeze even harder. when it comes to him, you never have to be careful about being gentle.

deeper you let your mouth take him in, eyes rolling at the way that your throat feels tight around him and your tongue compressed. its a somewhat of a comfortable feeling, this. you take him all the way down, swallowing and pushing until your eyes water just slightly. you gasp, seeking air afterwards, and sinfully soaking up the way that he looks at you astonished.

"you want more, baby?" you ask while still pumping him up and down.

"please." he begs with legs shaking even harder, "anything you want to do angel, do it."

you nod, sucking in a breath to continue, settling into a rhythm finding what's comfortable to you, stopping every few moments to feel the way that you can make him bulge your neck. the slick of your spit wets him entirely and fills him to the brim with euphoria and each of those tiny gasps that you practically hear in your dreams.

"baby--you've got me...so, so close..." changbin breathlessly gasps with a bit of a loose smile as he tries his best to keep himself together.

you stop, knowing the exact cue. "so you're saying...?"

his chest, red with his pent up frustration flinches, and he sits up on his forearms. "...that if you'll let me, I'd like to fuck you now?" changbin's expression darkens, eyes hooded and focused, and nearly intimidating enough to make you feel small.

"oh?" you dip your lips into his neck to kiss your answer there, "and if i say yes?"

before you can say much more, his arms wrap their way around you again, guiding you to your back and the comfort of the cushion. he parts your legs, revealing your glistening pussy that's dripped to the inside of your thighs. he leans, taking his index and ring finger to slide between your walls that tighten around his stimulations. your back arches now too, and the chill leaves you--replacing itself with something much hotter that even feels like too much to bear with the thin robe.

changbin curls his fingers within you, pressing at your g-spot and then positioning to sweep his thumb over your clit, sending shock waves all through your body and through every limb.

"you like it like that?" his voice asks with a bit of a growl to it. "like it when if fuck your pussy in deep with my fingers?" he tilts his head in his sympathy, "it's not even my dick fucking this pretty pussy of yours and you're already such a gorgeous mess for me, aren't you angel?"

you nod, knowing that words wouldn't possibly be formed by your lips at the moment.

he removes his fingers slowly, careful to watch the way that you shudder from feeling the moss of contact. he greedily twists his fingers together, watching the way that your slick pulls clear between them. he pauses, making sure that he's got your attention through your light-headed gasps. one by one, he holds your eyes while pressing his fingers against his tongue to suck them clean.

"b-bin..." your voice wavers, as he finishes off with that same damned smirk. he moves over you like a shadow, pressing his chest into yours while giving you a taste of your own arousal on his tongue where both of your lips meet in the heady ecstacy of it all.

changbin aligns his hips over you perfectly, using a firm grip to push one of your legs higher and press into your torso. water droplets form in his hair from a trick of gravity, and drip onto you in cold beads just enough to soothe your burning chest. he teases his tip at first to your clit throbbing for attention, then moves lower, pushing in as both of you sigh out at the intimacy of how full he fills you.

your teeth grit feeling him bottom out and reach as deeply within you as possible, then he starts to thrust, slow at first--just so you can feel every inch of his length and the way that he can use it. moans shake up your chest and come hazily between your lips, then onto his when he goes to feel them on his own while picking up his pace.

your toes point feeling him work himself up even more hurriedly, and his breaths shake with the gruff of his groans tied along with them as he loses himself in your connection. changbin pushes our leg even closer to your body: tightening your hole around himself even greater, and sending delightful little whines from his throat.

you lose yourself in the rhythm of him, mind now blank except for how utterly close you feel to him, how vulnerable and malleable, how unscrewed but whole. he meets your eyes, never stopping, and within him you see everything that you love, and that you know that you always will.

your hands weave behind his neck, bringing him into a kiss that speaks fathoms more than you could never tell him out loud. you explore each and every part of him here where your lips kiss away and pull at his plump lower lip.

it builds within you, threatening and even a little terrifying: edging your whole body to the precipice of an orgasm made by him, and heightened by the way his head grazes you deeply and gives your own thighs a turn to shake helplessly. it all feels so otherworldly you know that you could never put it to words.

the wet of your pussy slicks around his length, and he exhales out your name before collapsing as close to you as he can get, repeating, "so fucking good for me baby, so fucking good."

the pressure builds behind your clit, just about to explode when you feel his own cum thickly pulsate within you and his heady gasps echo. he fucks it into you, still not pausing even when he overstimulates himself between your walls. he moans out beautifully as his form shakes over yours, the last of his thrusts still strongly coaxing your orgasm from you and right to him latching yourself to him in the most primal sense--with the arch of your back and the crescents that you decorate into his shoulder blades with your nails, the electric delight spreads over your whole being, leaving your open mouthed gasps directly into his skin soft and clean.

you shake with him, unmoving and entangled. by now, the wet has seeped into the bed, but it still feels just as comforting as it had done before. his arms tremble too when he rises to look at you in your afterglow. he too looks even softer somehow, and even more adoring.

"i think..." he pants slightly, "this is the point where i tell you how much i love you? and how i could do this with you for the rest of my life?"

"i think so." you beam, ruffling up his dark strands. "and this is the point where i say i'd do the exact same."

"forgetting something?" he sighs in content, planting a kiss on your forehead.

"you already know how much i love you."

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @iwanttobangchan @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

[babytsum]

milkers - rollin'

based on this meme.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: nsfw, smut, drug use (weed), smoking, characters are high, breast worship, praise, oral (f receiving), face sitting, slight dacryphilia (if u squint), slight overstim

(a/n): it was a drabble, but i think i may have lost control

"god, this sucks."

you looked down to your chest, baggy shirt covering your upper body, but it doesn't hide the fact you feel can feel them weighing you down.

suna calls you at the most random times to smoke. during work, during class, just anytime. and if you were free, you would gladly come over, taking some time to put effort into your appearance. you didn't know exactly what prompts you to put on some eyeliner or change into a more flattering top before you head over, but it happens and you don't think much of it.

except for today.

he'd been calling at the wrong times, mostly because you had the willpower to study instead of smoke, but finally your free time aligned with his and you needed it. or maybe you just needed to see him. either way, you still rushed over with no regard to your appearance. what a mistake.

black smudges on your eyelid, no bra, little nubs peaking through the thin material of your shirt, you didn't look flattering at all. but it doesn't matter. you came here for the weed and the weed only, right?

"what's wrong?" rin frowns, taking in the sight of your tired self. for him, seeing you like this was nice to say the least. it seems as if you've gotten comfortable around him and it makes his heart beat a tad bit faster.

on the other hand, you were already feeling the effect of the nearly magical substance that was overcoming your senses and your judgement. your body felt light, almost lifted, and the stress from your exams was dissipating quickly. your mouth opens and your brain doesn't stop the words from coming out.

"i wish my boobs were smaller."

"oh?" his eyebrows were raised, a bewildered expression planted on his face. he took another hit of the joint pinched between his fingers, exhaling to the screen door of his window. you laid on the bed pouting and staring into the ceiling, "what makes you say that?"

"they just kind of look ugly, i guess," your hand came up to your breast, poking the squishy flesh over and over again and you laughed at the way it would jiggle with every small tap. rin, however, felt his pants becoming a little tight. he took a few steps closer to his bed and noticed how he can see more than just the shape of your nipple, but the dark brown color as well. and the way that a particularly hard poke made your breast wiggle a little more than usual. his lips were parted, but his hazy mind is able to gather a response.

"what do you mean ugly?" he asks curiously.

"i don't know," you sigh looking back down at your chest, "they move around too much. it's annoying."

he's puzzled. he's always loved a good pair of boobs, especially yours. rin can't lie to himself and insist that he's never looked before, especially with the flattering tops that sculpted out the shape perfectly. his train of thought is cloudy, and just like you, the filter has disappeared and now everything that comes out of his mouth flows out like a waterfall.

"i like them," he mindlessly states, "i can show you how much, too."

you sit up on his bed, turning your head towards his direction. when did he get so close? he was already leaning down, faces inches from yours, his hot breath fanning over your face, a smirk planted on his lips. you felt small under his gaze, but he wasn't looking at your face.

"then show me, coward." you giggle, brushing it off as a joke. he's close, but he's not serious, right?

you were deadly mistaken.

you were deadly mistaken and you know it when he gently pushes you down onto his mattress, hands making their way under your baggy shirt while he kisses from your stomach back up. "no bra, huh?" an unintelligible word leaves his mouth when your nipple is pinched between his fingers and you're sensitive. you're sure you can feel every single nerve and it all shoots to your core.

he urges you to take your shirt off and you oblige, struggling a bit at first, but he helps because he's nice. rin is nice. he lets you in his room, lets you smoke his weed, lets you lay on his bed while he sucks on your tits.

"fuck, you're so pretty, baby."

you're not sure what exactly feels so good about this, but the small praises that you barely register that come from his mouth everytime he comes up, the vibration of his groans that wrack throughout your body, the hand that kneads the neglected side of your chest. it's all so intoxicating. the sight of his red eyes and his mouth suckling on the wet nub is enough to make your slick to leak through your panties.

his eyes are half lidded, but he maintains eye contact and it's one of the most erotic sights you've seen. he drools all over your breasts, leaving teasing open mouthed kisses, taking one of the little, brown nubs in his mouth. he suckles gently at first and you let out a moan until he works his way up to a soft bite. you barely, just barely, register the pain, but he's making you feel so good and you need more. "i can't believe you wouldn't like these pretty tits," he mumbles, his mouth barely a centimeter away from your chest, "love tasting them."

so your hands tangle in the hair on the back of his head, desperately bringing his mouth closer to your chest because you need more. you need to feel his tongue circle around your sensitive nipple. rin doesn't mind. in fact, he thinks he's enjoying this more than he should be. he's rubbing himself onto the mattress, and though he's fully clothed, this might be one of the hottest ways he has ever gotten off. it's the whimpers that spill from your lips, the nearly whispered mumbles of "more, more, more", and the droopy look of your smudged eyes that do it for him.

when you look at him with heated cheeks and half lidded red eyes that match with his, he creams in his pants and moans loud and clear, letting go of your nipple with a small pop.

when he tries to stand up to change his pants, you flip him over, legs straddling his crotch, his back flat against the bed. his eyes are wide and your cunt is puffy at the image of him underneath you. your hands rest on both sides of his face and he can feel the blood rushing to his groin once again. you lean down, bringing your lips close to his ear.

"thanks, rin."

he groans when you grind your clothed cunt over his hardening cock, your hands tugging at his shirt which is eventually thrown away somewhere in the room. your jeans and soaking underwear are quickly discarded. the friction shoots through your core, but his hands grab your hips, stopping your movement.

"what-" rin doesn't let you finish, quickly pulling your lower body closer to his face. the sudden repositioning makes you squeal and before you can process it, his arms are hooked under your thighs and he's blowing onto your bare cunt. your breath is caught somewhere in your throat and he immediately takes your bundle of nerves in his mouth, sucking gently. your hands grip on the headboard, knuckles turning white.

if it weren't for the fact his mouth was preoccupied at the moment, he would be smirking at the small whimpers that fill the room. the wet muscle circles around your clit before he sucks at it again and you clench around nothing, eyes rolling to the back of your head. your back is arching and it only encourages him to bury his face further into your drooling cunt. his tongue fucks into your entrance, curling deliciously and your hips grind onto his face as you unconsciously search for more friction. though, he doesn't let you do it again, his arms locking your position on his face.

you look cute, he thinks when he's looking above, eyes half lidded. small tears are forming from the corner of your eyes, one hand squeezing your breast, two fingers pinching your nipple, a hand gripping his headboard in desperation for some stability. you taste like candy and he drinks up your slick like a starved man. your head is thrown back and it urges him to pull you up a little more and tighten the grip his arm has on your legs.

"c-cumming now, r-rin," you struggle to form coherent words, your mind is still cloudy and you feel weightless on his pretty face. one particular curl of his tongue hits the spot that sends you reeling into a sense of euphoria, hot pleasure overcoming your senses as your thigh shakes. he laps at your cute, little cunny, attempting to prolong the feeling as much as possible.

it's too much.

and you consider getting off his face, but he locks your position once again. one more, he thinks. he can get out one more. so he keeps on going, sucking and licking without mercy. the lewd squelching sounds he makes with his mouth push you closer and closer to the edge while the cute noises you make shoots to his cock. you're not sure you want him to stop, but when he's back on suckling your little nub with his soft lips, your mind goes blank. and your walls are pulsating around nothing as you cream all over his face.

he finally lets you off, your naked body covered in a layer of sweat, your overstimulated cunny back on the wet spot of his grey sweats. the lower half of his face is covered in your juices. it drips down his chin and you immediately pull his head towards yours, both of you melting into a deep kiss. you can taste yourself on his mouth and your hands palm his hardened cock.

"let me take care of you, rin."

taglist: @nvthvlyy @rintaoreo​ @shinyaluv​

[ticklefits]

AO3 LINK!

voltron: legendary defender | klance | words: 1317 | meme prompt from @fandomsnfluff​

#50. “So, why don’t we see who’s more ticklish?”

"I can't believe this is the first time you're trying bubble tea." As incredulous as he sounds, Lance recognizes that Keith hasn't been gifted many opportunities to partake in the delicious tapioca pearl drink, but still, how could he have not at least been curious about it? 

Amethyst eyes roll at Lance's words before glancing down at the beverage settled on the table in front of him. "I'm trying it now, so hush." This is truly a step out of Keith's comfort zone. He knows what he likes when it comes to sustenance and generally sticks to that box (unless Lance drags him out of it), so the idea of trying something new churns his stomach a bit, especially something like squishy little balls floating within a liquid he’s meant to drink. Oceanic sight is fixated on him however, the scrutiny making Keith feel as though he was under a time limit, and if he didn’t raise the straw to his lips soon and drink, then a terrible event would occur. Thank god they’re in the comfort of their own apartment, because Lance looking at him like that in public would only embarrass him further. 

“Lance.” 

“Mhm?”

“Stop looking at me so intensely.”

“Oh, am I making you nervous~?” His boyfriend is adorable, truly. Keith sends a squint Lance’s way and he responds with a nearly shit - eating grin. 

“I’m gonna throw it in the garbage if you don’t chill⎯”

“Nonono, okay, alright, I'll just enjoy my own drink.” Upon those words, supple lips cover his straw to sip at his own tea, sucking up a few of the pearls, relishing in the smooth texture and sweet taste. He even unlocks his phone and begins scrolling through it, showing Keith that he is indeed backing off a bit. 

With another roll of those stormy eyes, Keith finally curls his palm around the cup and brings the straw between his lips. Lance, despite pretending to remain attentive to his phone, had glanced up at Keith as soon as he noticed movement in his peripherals, observing eagerly for the other’s reaction. It takes a moment to process the mouth feel and taste of the tapioca and tea combination Keith chose, but once everything’s swallowed, Lance’s stomach flips for joy at the small smile that blooms over Keith’s features. 

“You look pleased.” Lance follows his delight with a grin of his own, toothy and dazzling. Keith’s smile is almost shy, as if embarrassed by how his visage puts his satisfaction on display. 

“Fine, you were right. It’s pretty good.” 

“Oh? Wait, hold on⎯” Confusion momentarily spreads across Keith’s face as Lance taps furiously away on his phone, before holding it in his palm, closer to the other. “Say that I’m right again, I want to capture it for a ringtone.”

“Oh, screw off, Lance,” But his tone holds amusement and affection, not a bite of maliciousness could be found in those words. 

“Nah, nah, nah, c’mon. Just once!” Lance presses the phone even closer and Keith shifts out of the way, that smile blossoming a grin just as stunning as Lance’s.

“I said no!” An arm darts out to poke and prod at his boyfriend’s sides to force him to move the phone away from Keith. Lance squeaks and recoils back some, but that doesn’t mean he’s given up. Placing the phone in his less dominant hand, Lance reaches out in a mimic of Keith’s earlier action, and begins lightly scribbling his nails along Keith’s side, igniting a leak of giggles from him. “Lahahahance, st⎯stahap!”

“Not until you tell my phone how right I was about you liking bubble tea.” He steps closer to give himself better access, the fingers that are actively tickling Keith digging in a bit more, which rewards him with a higher pitch of those giggles and stronger squirming. 

“I’m⎯aaahahaha⎯I-I’m not dohohoing that!” With a quick burst of strength and speed, he breaks free from Lance’s ticklish grip and escapes into their bedroom, which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t the smartest place to run to. 

“You get back here!” Lance demands and immediately takes off after Keith, tackling him to the surface of their bed, pressing his weight into him whilst knees settle on either side of his hip, locking the swordsman in place. Those slender digits discover home on Keith's stomach, grazing the fabric covered skin enough to bring giggles forth from him once again. "Sooo, why don't we see who's more ticklish?" 

Keith hides a gulp, even though he already knows the answer; he's proven it tons of times. Lance may be more sensitive than he is, but he can also be a devastating tickler when he wants to be. The hairs on his arms stand on end at the anticipation of it, the challenge his boyfriend poses has his stomach doing flips and even though Keith knows he's in for it, he isn't struggling or fighting back against him, not really.

That is, until Lance digs into the flesh of his waist without so much as a warning, and Keith's body jerks on its own, hips bucking up and against Lance as laughter erupts from him like water shooting from a busted fire hydrant. He’s already having a go at a very sensitive area on Keith, which tells him that Lance isn’t playing games. With a mind of its own, muscular frame wriggles underneath Lance’s weight, tempted to utilize his limbs and try pushing back at the other, but his body does all but try to stop his boyfriend’s antics. 

“Sh-Shihihihit, La⎯aaahahahahance!” Electricity rockets throughout his skin, igniting him like a current that only heightens in reactivity with every damned brush and caress of Lance’s fingers. His bellows raise in volume when the other snakes his hands up along his stomach, making certain to draw through each contour of his abs, before stopping right on top of his ribs. That’s when Keith’s hands finally shoot up to grip at Lance’s wrists, but it does nothing to deter any movement; if anything, it brings a shit-eating smirk to those lips of his. 

“Ah, can’t handle it, love~? Is it too much for you already?” Keith swears through a squeal when Lance squeezes at the space of his bottom ribs, biting back the urge to squirm. “I dunno… you had me crowned as the most ticklish, but I think I might have to step down from the throne for someone more fitting.” To end his point on a bang, those evil digits make quick work of kneading at Keith’s ribs, from down to up, and back down again, jumping from digging tickles to grazing scribbles so that Keith was stilled at a constant edge. An absolutely delicious whine breaches from the confines of Keith’s throat, followed by the rapid falls of wheezy laughter that even have Lance giggling a little too. 

His physical fortitude is diminishing fast, so if he wants to turn this into a fight, then he needs to act even faster. Through squinted sight, Keith removes a hand from Lance’s wrist and launches it to his side, delivering squeezes in quick succession that effectively force Lance to shift his weight nearly entirely off of Keith, squealing at the sensation. The opportunity is there and Keith jumps on it with not an iota to spare. Trained core strength helps in twisting the lower half of his body so that he and Lance flip positions, and within seconds, the gunman is now pinned back to bed spread, skylight eyes wide in surprise. Now it’s Keith's turn to don that smirk.

“Sorry babe, I’m afraid I can’t take that crown. I don’t deserve it, but I can show you who does.” Now it’s Lance’s turn to gulp. And, similarly to how he had just treated Keith minutes ago, Keith wastes not a moment in tickling his boyfriend silly, for as long as the evening will allow.