#the leaks started pouring in and i needed to write this to process

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Part 2 to that fantasies fic please 😭🙏

I've been trying to finish this FOREVER.

What's Your Fantasy? - Part 2

This contains SMUT- Minors DNI

Part 1

Summary: After getting Ethan to tell you the things he thinks about when he's alone, you were dying to hear more.

Contains: Smut - switch!ethan, switch!reader, p in v, oral(fem recieving), creampie, rough-ish sex, unprotected sex, and it has a fluffy moment or two:) If i missed anything, please let me know so I can include it.

A/N: Not too sure how I feel about this 🫠But I've had so many requests for it and I've been dying to write a dom!ethan moment.

When you made it back to Ethan’s room after your shower, he was desperate to fuck you. The interaction in the shower had you craving more, wanting nothing more than to please him. You weren’t giving in that easy, pushing him back on the bed and straddling him. You leaned down to kiss him, your pussy resting against his hardening cock. You wanted to tease him to see what else you could get out of him.

As you grinded against him, your lips started to trail down his neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned out, the wetness between your legs making it easy to glide across his erection.

You didn’t say anything as your lips moved, sucking on the spots that were making him whimper. His hands went to your hips to help you move against him when you pulled away.

“No, baby, I need you to use your words and tell me what you want,” you said, your tone loaded with lust as his hooded eyes met yours.

His hands went to your sides as you started to kiss his neck again, “You better start talking, or your entire neck is going to be purple by the time I’m done with you.” Your mouth latched onto the flesh above his collar bone as he started to whine.

“I want you to ride me,” he finally got out, as you shook your head and laughed.

“That’s not good enough baby.”

He started to think back to the teasing in the shower, and how you were trying to get him to say the things he wanted to try, the things he thought about when he was trying to get off. It was hard for him to process his thoughts as your hips started to grind harder against him.

You sat up straight, looking down at his erection as your pussy rubbed against him, your arousal glistening under the sunlight that was pouring through the window. It was getting hard for you to hold back, the throbbing feeling in your clit making you desperate for some relief.

“Aww, the head of your cock is so red,” you cooed, “It’d be a shame if I just stopped and didn’t fuck you.”

“No!” he tried to yell but it came out as a whimper. “Fuck, I think about coming home and you’re waiting by the front door in the skimpiest lingerie.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” you muttered, “What happens next?”

“I get you out of your bra and suck all over your tits,” he babbled, as your hands rubbed across his chest, “Then I kiss down your stomach, sliding your panties down. Then you push me back on the bed and ride my face. You just fucking use me to get off.”

“You want me to use you, baby?” you questioned as he nodded.

“I think about you pulling my hair when you’re about to cum. I think about how amazing you taste,” he said, his breathing heavy as your pussy kept rubbing against him, the friction against your clit giving you some of the relief you needed. “Then…” he trailed off, getting a little shy.

“Then what?” you asked, desperate to hear what he had to say as your wetness was dripping down the rest of his cock that wasn’t getting attention.

“Then you let me take control. I have your arms pinned above your head, as my cock slowly slides in and out of you, until I’m pounding into you pussy so hard that my neighbors are going to know how good I fuck you,” He rushed out, as you noticed all the precum leaking out of his cherry-red tip. You swiped your finger through it, the action making his hips jolt. You sucked it off your finger as he watched you, feeling like he could cum from the sight alone. “Fuck…then you let me cum in your perfect pussy that squeezes me so tight when you cum.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” you asked, as he started to whine again.

“I love it when you talk to me like that.”

“Do you want me to be mean to you?” you asked, a small laugh slipping out as you looked at him.

“Yeah, but then I want you to let me put you in your place, too. Respectfully, of course.”

You started to giggle at his words before your lusty eyes connected with his.

“Put me in my place, then.”

Within seconds, he flipped you over so your naked body was laying against the soft comforter. He kissed you with so much intensity, as he brushed over your pussy with his fingertips. He kept repeating his actions, teasing you as badly as you did to him.

“Please, baby,” you whined, “I need you.”

“I don’t think you deserve it. You’ve been so bad,” he said, his lips moving to his neck and sucking love bites onto you.

“But don’t you want to cum in me?” you asked, your tone desperate as you tried to convince him.

“I’m in control, remember?”

The cockiness in his voice had your pussy aching, craving attention as his fingers wouldn’t stop teasing you. He intentionally avoided your clit. You whimpered every time he got close to it, but then his fingers just ghosted around it.

After a few minutes, he decided he tortured you enough as his fingers rubbed slow circles against your bundle of nerves. You couldn’t suppress your moans as he started to move his mouth down your body. He sucked one of your nipples into your mouth, before sucking on the skin surrounding it.

“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, before he moved to the other side and repeated the action. He couldn’t get enough of the sounds coming out of your mouth, but he wanted them to be louder.

His lips moved lower, his teeth grazing against your sides as your chest heaved. You got more wet by the second, feeling it reach your upper thighs.

When he finally made it in between your legs, his hands gripped your thighs as he pushed them apart. The new dominating side of Ethan was something you could get used to, his eyes looking into yours as he started to lap at your clit. A low moan slipped out, a new sound he’d never heard before. The anticipation that was built up between the two of you had you both desperate for your release. The throbbing in his cock was painful, but he had to show you that he should be in control sometimes.

“That feels so good,” you whined out, as he slid two fingers inside of you.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he said, pulling his mouth away and moving his fingers against that spot inside of you that made your toes curl. Your hand went to his hair, trying to pull his mouth back towards you. “I don’t think so,” he said, his words making you pout. “I told you, you’ve been bad. You threatened to not let me cum, why should I let you?”

“Please, I need it so fucking bad,” you begged, as his fingers started to slow. “Ethan, please!”

“The only way you’re going to cum is if my cock is inside you,” he said, his voice dark as he grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head.

His mouth was inches from yours, his eyes softening a little as he looked at you.

“If this is too much, I need you to tell me, okay? Just because it’s a fantasy of mine doesn’t mean I’m okay with hurting you,” he said, leaning down to kiss you.

When he pulled away, he looked at you to give him the okay to keep going.

“Please fuck me,” you whined, the darkness returning to his eyes as he repositioned your arms so he could hold both of your wrists down with one hand, as his other lined his cock up with your entrance.

He slid in slowly, watching your face as his length stretched you out.

“Mmm,” you mewled, the full feeling being exactly what you needed.

His hips started to move as he leaned down to kiss you again. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip, your mouth opening so he could deepen the kiss. He took it slow at first, just enjoying the feeling of you around him.

He soon started to thrust faster, making you moan against his tongue as he kept kissing you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, making it easier for him to go deeper and hit that spongy spot inside you that made your vision get fuzzy.

He pulled away from the kiss, looking at your face again. The intensity of the kiss had your lips swollen, and your eyes were glazed over in desire as he started to pound into you.

“Fuck, Ethan,” you moaned, his free hand going to your clit as he supported his weight with the hand that had your wrists pinned above your head.

You started to get louder, the grip that your legs had around his waist getting tighter. “Your pussy feels so amazing,” he groaned, “and you’re taking my cock so fucking well. You always do.”

“Mhm,” you whimpered, “I’m getting close.”

He kept his pace with his hips and his finger movements against your clit, not wanting to change anything he was doing. He needed you to cum so he could, and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin your orgasm.

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned, the loudness of it echoing off the walls, “I’m gonna cum, please don’t stop.”

He didn’t, the feeling of your pussy tightening around him was something he was craving. As soon as your orgasm started to wash over you, he leaned down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, giving you the extra stimulation as your body started to tremble underneath him. He started to cum the second your walls started to clench his cock, the fluttering milking every last drop from him.

His removed his hand from your clit so he could support his weight with it. He started to worry about bruising on your wrists as his grip on them relaxed. He stayed inside you for a few minutes as he placed gentle kisses along your wrists, noticing that they were red.

Your blissful expression from the intense orgasm made him smile. He was happy you wanted to try things that he wanted, even if it was a little different from the usual bedroom dynamic.

“Are you okay, babe?” he asked sweetly, as he started to pull out. Your legs that were loosely wrapped around him moved to rest on the bed. “Oh fuck.”

He saw his cum start to drip out of your pussy, the sight making him groan. He looked up to your face, noticing that you started to doze off.

“Baby,” he said, running his hands along your thighs. You opened your eyes a little to look at him. “Let’s go take another quick shower and we can cuddle and do whatever you want the rest of the day.”

You nodded as you tried to get up, your legs wobbling the second your feet hit the floor. Ethan’s arm wrapped around you, supporting your weight as he led you to the bathroom.

Once you made it there, he glanced at the mirror and did a double take as he noticed all the faint purple marks along his neck.

“Jeez, you did a number on my neck,” he laughed as you smiled, still tired.

“How about later tonight I teach you the wonders of concealer?” you joked as he rolled his eyes.

“You might have to.”

[adventuresofmelody]

Ok. So I have decided to share with y’all, the first chapter of the novel I’m writing! I’ve been working on it for 5 years, and after an excessive editing process I’m fairly pleased with it. Let me know, if you happen to read it, what you think though please.

Without further ado, The Fallen’s Outcry, Chapter 1

One man that people should not test above most else is the devil. That’s something we’ve been taught for as long as the devil existed. However, there are a select few that could test the devil and live to tell the tale. One who held the man’s respect. One who held the man’s fear. Or one who held the man’s heart. Few held his respect. Fewer still held his fear. But there was only one, who held his heart. After multiple lifetimes without the love of his being, Lucifer was finally reunited with Morgana, the only woman who had ever wormed her way into his heart. He hadn’t admitted it in her absence, but he had missed her greatly, more so than he had originally thought. He missed her eyes, and they way they’d sparkle when she laughed. He missed her voice, the way it seemed to soothe every ache in his soul. He missed her touch, the way it seemed to immediately calm him and bring him joy. However, since her return from the realm of purgatory, that cold, dulled place where it felt worse than the fires of hell themselves in Lucifer’s humble opinion, she had changed. Gone was that sparkle in her eye, replaced with hard determination. Gone was the soothing cadence in her voice, replaced with an almost raw grit that panged him every time he heard it. And gone was her calming touch, replaced by an absence of which he was unfamiliar with. He called it an adjustment period. She just needed time. Time to get used to things like warmth, color, and actual food. She would return to him. She had to. She was home now.

Lucifer took pride in three things: One, his ability to remain calm. Two, his ability to keep a clean dwelling. And three, his ability to enjoy a good drink. After being awake for a total of one week, Morgana was testing his ability to do all three things. After a reunion that was worthy of being written in the stars, she delivered a swift kiss to his cheek and disappeared into his study, where she tore through his library with reckless abandon. She ripped books from shelves and tore pages out of tomes older than she was. She knocked down shelves, overturned tables. It was as though she was trying to find a sewing pin amongst the heaviest and thickest books in his collection. It took him three days to clean up that mess.

After that, she went into a rage, refusing to assist him in his work or even partake in pleasant conversation. She went on about the fact that her confinement wasn’t fair, that them being placed in hell wasn’t fair. Nothing was fair. She raged about how unjust the system was, and how rigged He had made things after the fall. How deities were given fates worse than death and how the demons in Lucifer’s realm were looked at as second class citizens, while angels could roam the cosmos, going wherever they pleased with nary a system for checking their whereabouts. Lucifer took it in stride, meeting all her complaints with a cool comment and a glass of wine. That is, until the day that she threw his favorite bottle of whiskey into the fireplace. That was the day he lost his cool.

“Alcohol does not grow on trees down here.” He seethed, glaring at the fireplace with an almost pouty scowl. Morgana immediately softened, recognizing that she had gone a step too far.

“I am just frustrated.” She answered, her voice softer than he had heard in a while. However, it still held that edge, that grit. And that kept his ire firmly in place.

“Yes.” He paced in front of the fire. “And your frustration is leaking over onto me.”

“My love, you cannot blame me.” She started, moving over to Lucifer’s expansive bar. He watched her as he paced and tried to calm himself. Deep breath in, deep breath out. She tinkered, pouring a bit of this and a bit of that into a glass, shaking it almost expertly before pouring it into a glass. Huh, a martini. He hadn’t had one of those in a while. He kept up his breathing, feeling a little more calm now. She brought it to him as he stopped pacing, his fingers brushing hers as he took the glass from her grasp. He smirked as a light blush covered her cheeks, pleased with himself that he could still cause a reaction from her other than anger after all this time. Morgana sighed, the sound seeming to deflate her frail body.

“There has to be something we can do.” She mused. He took a sip of the martini and fought not to make a face. It had been a long time since he had tasted a drink that was not in some form or fashion whiskey. But that jarring taste was enough for him to feel the remaining anger draining away from himself. Finally, he was calm again. He watched Morgana as her eyes darted sharply, as though she was hearing things he could not. Or listening to things he couldn’t hope to. Her eyes never lost that edge of determination though. He swore she slept with that look. He took another drink and gave her his best neutral expression, despite the sympathy he couldn’t help but let into his bright blue fire eyes.

“If there was anything that could be done, I would have already looked into it.” He answered her, watching her with that casual stare as she finally sat, folding herself gracefully onto a nearby chair. Lucifer didn’t move from his spot, just watched and waited.

“I heard a rumor while I was in purgatory.” She said carefully. He raised an eyebrow, but otherwise offered no reaction.

“I imagine you heard a great many of those. Especially given my feelings for you.”

“No, you don’t understand.” She took a breath. “I heard a rumor that, if proven true, could give us our lives back.” Now that was a dangerous line of thought. Lucifer wanted to immediately shut it down, to convince her to leave it lie. She didn’t understand, having been lost before the great battle. She didn’t know what His army had done, what the fallen angels had faced. The horrors that came about before the brief respite of peace that they now all seemed to live in. He wanted to tell her right then all the dangers, all the reasons why they could not think of these things. But he didn’t want to break her completely, and he thought being exposed to the horrors that He had unleashed in the name of peace would do just that. After a great pause, he continued their conversation, trying to shut her down gently.

“Morgana, we cannot think of these things.” Lucifer told her softly, a brief shake of his head.

“I heard Gabriel say He was no longer in power.” She argued. He raised his eyebrows. When had she spoken to his brother. She shrugged at the raise of his eyebrows. Ah. She wasn’t talking about it then. Lucifer gave one curt nod, deciding to ignore that aspect of the statement entirely.

“That’s true. But He won’t be out of power forever.” Morgana stood up, as though she had been filled with renewed vigor.

“Which is why we need to act.” Lucifer sat his glass to the side, panic beginning to set in. He tried his best not to show how nervous her statements made him, tried to deescalate the situation by checking her facts.

“What makes you think these rumors you heard are true, my dear?” he asked her. She grinned eagerly at him, thinking he was interested in her rumors, her theories, her plans.

“The man who told me of this, he mentioned the Olympians.” She said. Now Lucifer was intrigued. The Olympians believed themselves to be gods, and were even worshiped for a while as such. However, at the time of the fall, they too were cast out. Some were exterminated, of course. Made an example of. But no one remained in paradise with Him. No one was spared some form of punishment. At least, no one he knew of. But while they were cast out, they were not cast down to him. They must have been given their own punishment realms. Or perhaps…Perhaps they were in purgatory with Morgana. How cruel was that, to keep the people that could for sure set free the fallen so close, and yet none of the fallen truly knew. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, was it? One clearly did. One who was still in purgatory. One who told his Morgana about this in the first place. Feigning disinterest, Lucifer picked back up his glass, taking a drink of the martini. He almost choked, having forgot for a moment what he was drinking. He really did need more variety in his alcoholic beverages. Beside him, oblivious to his struggles, Morgana nodded.

“He mentioned one Olympian in particular. Which is why my attention was caught to begin with.” She said. Lucifer leaned forward.

“Which one?”

“Zeus.” She said his name with a tone that said she knew Lucifer’s attention would be caught with this knowledge. She wasn’t wrong. He was very much interested now. Lucifer knew the location of a couple of the banished ‘gods’. He knew the fate of a few others, ones that no longer existed after the fall. But the trio that he did not know were Zeus, Hades, and Poseidon. And knowledge to the location of the three of them, well. It could be powerful. He set the drink aside again, no longer interested in it.

“Who gave you this information?”

“I told you that already. A man in purgatory.”

“His name?” Lucifer could find him from here if she had his name. Names were something he was familiar with.

“No. I….I never asked. His cell was down the hall from mine.” She shifted, looking more than a little embarrassed. She no doubt knew that Lucifer dabbled in names, and that he could have easily found the man’s file had she been smart enough to take his name. Lucifer watched her, saying nothing. He couldn’t be angry at her for not asking the man’s name. She wasn’t sure she was ever getting out after all. And if that man was on the same floor as her, well. It was no wonder he never saw him. While Lucifer was granted permission to visit a few souls in purgatory, Morgana’s entire floor was off limits to him. He didn’t learn that until he was on his way to getting her back however. He shook his head, tuning himself back into the conversation as Morgana continued,

“He claimed he had been given information about the location of Poseidon by Zeus himself. Even described him to the letter.” Lucifer was definitely interested in that. More interested than he cared to admit. But he didn’t want to get Morgana excited for nothing. He looked at her, trying to study her face. Despite how much he was trying not to excite her, he could read the eagerness in her eyes.

“Can you remember the cell number you were placed in?” he asked her. She shook her head.

“The cell I was in was on a separate level. Down below. It was dark. I wasn’t…I’m still not sure….” The harsh glint in Morgana’s eyes wasn’t reflecting determination anymore, it was reflecting fear. Almost panic. Lucifer immediately felt guilty.

“That’s alright.” He answered, his tone surprisingly soft for the king of hell. He took to pacing again, not able to face her while she was in such a state, thinking a moment. He knew the area that she was speaking of, having been to purgatory many times. He wasn’t allowed to go in to that floor. He knew the barrier keeping him out was due to Morgana being in. But now that she was out…perhaps he could enter. He stopped pacing, thinking again. When had he last gone to purgatory? Had he gone since her recovery? No he hadn’t. He knew he should though. He knew he needed to go and check, needed to see for himself the state in which his love was kept for so many lifetimes worth of years. He moved over and kissed Morgana’s forehead.

“Stay here, my dearest.” He told her, walking out. Morgana moved as though she would follow him, but changed her mind, folding herself into the chair by the fire to wait. Lucifer was pleased she didn’t follow. It showed him that she trusted him to investigate. Lucifer walked down the stairs, deeper into the bowels of his domain. The heat barely phased him anymore, but he knew it was there. He could faintly hear screams from further down. He tended to ignore those. Taking a left at the base of the stairs he headed into his armory, and unsurprisingly, found his second in command down there. Raphael.

Raphael was tall, even compared to Lucifer. He had jet black hair cut fairly short on the sides, but a little longer on top. Just enough to brush his eyebrows. His eyes were deep green and almost glowed with an ethereal light that indicated he was not, nor had he ever been, human. The man wore a chain mail tank top and dark pants, the ends of which disappeared into thick black boots. He had a sleeve of tribal tattoos on his right arm, a swirling dance of ink that seemed to tell a beautiful story, even if no one but Raphael understood it. Lucifer nodded to the man, who gave a brief nod back.

“Boss.” Raphael greeted him, his voice deep and raspy from lack of use. Lucifer gave him a soft grin.

“You know as well as I do, you do not have to call me that.” He chastised him gently in response. Raphael gave a brief look before relaxing his stance a little.

“Yes, well. Old habits and all that.”

“Just because you are my younger brother, does not make you any less my brother. I don’t make the others call me by a title like boss.”

“Not even Gabriel?” Raphael flashed a teasing grin at this jab, not meaning any harm. Lucifer grinned right back, not at all bothered by the brotherly teasing.

“Gabriel, I might ask to call me boss. If I could get the stubborn man to agree to do so.” Lucifer answered. Raphael laughed, relaxing fully. He nodded in agreement. Lucifer decided to move to the armory, pulling out some basic blades and sheathes, setting them all aside. Raphael raised his eyebrows.

“Rare you decide to spar with the army.” Raphael said, not hiding his curiosity. Lucifer nodded.

“Indeed. But I am not doing that today either.”

“Those are sparing blades.” Raphael answered, stepping forward now. Lucifer almost growled aloud at his mistake. Was his mind truly that distracted? He looked at Raphael, who immediately took that step back. Lucifer sighed.

“Forgive my attitude.” He said, gesturing towards the cabinet of blades. “If you please?” It was rare Lucifer asked for help. Raphael came over and carefully removed the blades that Lucifer had picked from the table, putting them back slowly. Almost as if he were afraid of retaliation. Lucifer merely watched him work, uninterested in being hateful. His mind was too full to bother. Raphael could not keep this information to himself.

“You’re distracted.” He murmured.

“You point out the obvious often?”

“Only when needed.” Lucifer bristled a little.

“What are you saying?” he asked. Raphael pulled out the proper blades, setting them down next to the sheathes, which Lucifer noticed he did not put back. Well. At least he got that right. Raphael looked at him with almost sympathy as Lucifer began taking off his expensive jacket, hanging it temporarily on the back of a chair near the weapons closet.

“I am saying that you are dressing for battle and your mind does not appear to be ready for it. You are not joining us for sparring, so it’s a legitimate fight, isn’t it? Should we be prepared for an invasion?” Now Lucifer felt bad. Raphael, besides being his little brother, was his second in command. His military leader. Of course he’d be concerned to see Lucifer gathering weapons with no explanation. Lucifer took a breath and shook his head, trying to clear it. No more distractions. And no more causing unnecessary distress. At least not today.

“No, no. No need to worry.” He said, sounding much more like himself than he had previously. Raphael seemed to notice that too, and snapped back into a more military stance. “I am merely going to do a bit of….recon, shall we say. And I’m not sure how dangerous the situation may be.”

“So you’re bringing weapons just in case?” Raphael asked. Lucifer nodded, removing his button down shirt now as well, to slide the sheathes on. One at his hip, two more at his wrists. He would put the fourth at his calf on his right leg.

“Exactly.” He answered, struggling a little to put the wrist sheathe on the left side. Curse of being left handed he supposed. He struggled with it for a few minutes before he looked over at Raphael, who had not relaxed his military stance, but could not hide the amusement that danced through his eyes.

“Do you mind?” he snapped. Raphael grinned a little briefly, before composing himself and asking.

“Do you want me to help or give you privacy to struggle on your own?” he asked. Lucifer all but rolled his eyes. Little brothers.

“Just tie the damned thing.” He answered. Raphael murmured a ‘yes, sir’ and came over, tying the sheathe firmly in place. Lucifer didn’t say anything else, but studied his brother’s movements. When the sheathe had been tied into place, he began putting the blades in, testing them in his hands before hiding them on his body.

“Will you need backup?” Raphael asked. Lucifer thought about it. He truthfully didn’t know. He wasn’t sure what awaited him in purgatory. For all he knew he couldn’t enter where Morgana used to be. For all he knew, once he tried, an alarm would sound. Or his twin would be informed, and then he would be confined only to hell. Or worse, one of the beasts that were released to help Him defeat the fallen would be waiting for him. He shook his head, cleared his throat, and then answered Raphael.

“I do not know. I hope I will not, because I don’t intend to take any.” Lucifer got dressed again in silence, not giving his brother a chance to respond. Raphael resumed his stance to the side of the door, standing guard once again as Lucifer recomposed himself, hiding the blades perfectly underneath an expensive shirt and suit jacket. Without another word to his younger brother, he left the armory, heading back up the stairs from which he came. Wordlessly, he focused his energy, thinking of purgatory. With a slightly uncomfortable pull behind his navel, he was off.

Ok that was it, that’s the thing. Does it suck as much as I think it does?

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Your writing is so amazing!!! Could we get #14 for shigadabi?

Prompt: heat/Sex pollen/love potion

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Sex Pollen, Fuck or Die, Begging, Dacryphillia, Multiple Orgasms, Handcuffs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dry Humping, Handjobs, Praise Kink, Dub-Con associated with this trope that is recognized by the characters involved and discussed within the narrative followed up by enthusiastic consent.

Everything happens so fast. Goes from a tense but potentially fruitful meeting with a small group of villains who specialize in chemical compounds and weaponry, a contact that Toga and Twice managed to learn about during their time with the Shie Hassaikai. People without resources now that Overhaul has been taken out of the picture and desperate enough to keep doing their research they seemed willing to overlook their part in that. People who, they had been hoping, might be able to expand on the process used to make the quirk erasing bullets that they had also stolen. But negotiations broke down. They didn't even so much as break as implode. Shigaraki isn't even sure exactly what set it off, had been having a relatively civil conversation and then one of the members snapped at their representative. Had been two short, bitter comments and then he had lashed out with his quirk. Doesn't know how their infighting had spilled over and gotten directed at them, but the next thing they knew the League was being rounded on. 

It's an actual genuine surprise when Dabi steps in, moves in front of them as a cloud of pale pink spores are suddenly filling the air and racing towards the rest of them. When he ignites he torches the lot of them and the group of scientists in one massive wall of blue flame. A surprise because he didn't think Dabi really gave a fuck about the rest of them and their continued well-being. Hadn't thought he would ever put himself in harms way like that. But Dabi torches their opposition and then hesitates, smoke curling from his arms. 

"Woah," Toga murmurs, watching the flames eat up the other half of the building. 

"Certainly an impressive display," Compress remarks, "But perhaps we should be taking our leave now?" 

Yeah, absolutely. Do not need to get caught when someone sees the smoke and fire pouring from the building. At least when negotiations broke down this time no one got killed, he thinks bitterly. At least no one got hurt--

Dabi takes a step towards them. He sees it, the slight wobble to his step, starts to move before he even knows why, and then Dabi is dropping. Barely manages to catch him before he hits the floor without accidentally activating his quirk. Shit. Shifts his grip to keep a finger away from his skin. 

"Fuck," the arsonist's voice thin, smoke leaking out from his mouth. Can see sweat starting to bead across his brow and then he's gone, eyes fluttering shut and going limp in his arms. 

"Shit, what happened?" Spinner rushing over to help him try and haul Dabi back onto his feet. No use, not particularly heavy, but completely dead weight. 

"Must have gotten hit with some of whatever that quirk was." He mutters, "Compress," doesn't even really need to ask. They need to leave, dragging around their unconscious companion is not going to help with that. The older man comes over and marbles Dabi immediately. Also will help keep him in stasis as they travel. They regroup and start to move. "Go back to base." He tells the rest of them, the base in question a gutted condemned apartment building for the time being, "Take him to see the doctor."

"Text me when you need him released," Compress tells him easily, 

"And you'll text us when you know what's wrong, right?" Toga's voice a little more worried. Can't blame her. Barely a month since they lost Magne. 

"I will," he reassures her, "Go on." 

They separate and he does his best to make his way towards Ujiko's lab swiftly. 

///

Takes an hour to get to the lab and then another hour of the doctor running tests before they know what's wrong with him. 

Aphrodisiac quirks aren't unheard of. They're not incredibly common and tend to carry a significant stigma given that they can cause public acts of indecency on the low end of damages and can be the source of assault and rampant abuse on the higher end. Can also be fairly deadly depending on the potency of them, with victims sometimes not even being able to remember to eat or drink through the haze of lust. Ujiko tells him this, says that he's put Dabi on an IV to keep him from dying of dehydration, and says that they'll have to wait and see if this version of the quirk will fade on its own or not. Because sometimes they do. Sometimes it's just a matter of letting it run its course and then moving on. But sometimes. Sometimes they won't fade without outside assistance. 

Texts the others and tells them that they're waiting for Dabi to wake up and see the effects of the quirk but doesn't tell them what he was hit with. Doesn't know if Dabi would want anyone to know. Barely sticks around with them when they aren't actively doing a job, hasn't told them anything about himself in the months that he's been working with them, doubts that he would want them to know even an inch of vulnerability now. Still doesn't quite understand why he had gotten in front of them, why he had risked-- and actually gotten-- hit with this quirk to keep them safe. Never seemed to care about their safety before now. 

After three hours it becomes clear that this isn't going to be as easy as just waiting it out. Tomura's not sure exactly when Dabi woke, believes the doctor tried to go in and explain the situation to him before he entirely lost his head, doesn't know how successful he was. Then Ujiko showed him into an observation chamber, in case he needed to check in on the arsonist, and left, actually maintaining his job at the hospital and needing to go to his shift. Told him to check up on Dabi again in another few hours and if it wasn't fading then intervention would probably be necessary to keep him alive. Waits three hours and then checks up on the man. Is shooting out of the chair, going to one of the cabinets of supplies and finding what he needs before making his way to the room Dabi's been put in. 

Smoke is trickling out from beneath the door. 

Enters the room and immediately notices how hot it is, notices that before the choked little sounds of whimpers and moans coming from the bed. Dabi is smoking too, his coat, shirt, and boots pulled off, the air around him shimmering with heat, sweat beaded across his skin. Rutting into a pillow making those desperate, pained little sounds. 

His mouth goes dry and he immediately tries to shake that as he tries to get the other man's attention, approaching the bed carefully. "Dabi,"

Gets a desperate gasp out of the other man, pulling his head up to look at him, pupils blown so wide he can barely see any blue at all, face flushed, mouth open and panting softly. "Duster," a thready little whine. Doesn't expect him to keen softly before surging up to reach for him. Not expecting his hands to close around his forearms and try to pull him down, wonders if he should have realized how absolutely scorching his touch would be even through the long sleeves of his shirt, but the staples across his palms are glowing, and they immediately start to burn through the fabric. 

"Fuck, Dabi your quirk," brought suppression cuffs. Neither he or Ujiko had even thought they would be needed, didn't know that there was a risk of Dabi incinerating himself while under the effects of this quirk. 

"Help?" Desperate and wavering and he feels something tighten sharply behind his ribs. 

"Yeah, come on, just need to let go." 

The other man seems to struggle but manages after a second. Releases his arms and he feels his skin stinging with burns. Can see the holes burned into his sleeves where his staples touched. Barely takes a breath before he's wrapping the cuffs around Dabi's wrists and locking them in place. As soon as they're on, the smoke stops and Dabi all but collapses, forcing him to catch him again as he lets out a loud breathless sound of relief. 

The smoke around the room starts to dissipate and he sees that the heat has burned holes in the thin cot as well, melted the IV bag and evaporated the liquid. Lucky he got to the other man before he'd set the whole room on fire. Winces slightly when Dabi's hands wrap around his forearms again and he pulls. Not expecting it, stumbles. The arsonist uses the momentum to get him onto the bed, pushing him up against the wall before he can shift, 

"Dabi--" 

"Please, please, Duster, please," Has the other man in his lap, can feel his cock straining against his pants as he grinds against his thigh, making his mouth go dry again. Fuck. 

"Dabi, shit, you'll be fine, you just need to get this out of your system--" 

"Can't," never heard the other man sound so broken. "Can't cum, please, Duster, please," 

God fucking damn it. Because if he hasn't been able to get himself off at all then this is the really bad type of aphrodisiac quirk. The kind that will kill him if it stays in his system for too long. The kind that needs assistance to remove. Feels his stomach go hollow as he is suddenly faced with the question of if Dabi would rather die or rather... have him help when he's so out of his head. Dabi can barely tolerate him, they tried to kill each other a few months ago.

"Do you have anyone I can call--" Doesn't know anything about Dabi other than that he is good at his job when he deigns to be around to do it. Could have a significant other, someone he trusts, anyone who could help. 

Shakes his head, whining and rutting against his thigh again. Shigaraki grabs his hips, holding tightly, trying to keep him from doing it again and Dabi keens, "Want you, please," 

Knows it's the quirk talking. Knows Dabi wouldn't ever say that to him. Hates himself for how much he likes it. For how much he's wanted to have Dabi looking at him like this, desperate for his touch, doesn't want it when he knows the other man isn't in his right mind. Is trying to think of literally anything else he can do when Dabi meets his eyes again, when he sees that the other man's are wide and glassy, his whole body trembling, 

"Hurts, please Shig, please. Help?" The last word escaping him on a thin sob. Startles as he starts to cry blood. Crimson tears slipping over his cheeks as he shakes, hands fisted in his shirt and straining against the hold on his hips. 

Fuck. Going to lose his best piece one way or the other. Would rather Dabi be alive to hate him when he goes than gone completely. "...Okay," loosens his grip and gently rocks his thigh up against Dabi's hard cock. Makes the arsonist moan loudly, pressing in closer. Lets him start to ride his thigh, settles into a desperate frantic rhythm, sharp gasps and moans slipping constantly from his lips. Tries to stay still, to keep his own cock from hardening as he has the other man rutting in his lap, face pressed against his neck. Might break hold of the quirk if he can just get off with someone else there. Just let Dabi do this and hopefully he'll be alright. Can't take away the wrongness of all of this, but may be able to ease a little of the filth that's going to cling to his soul afterwards. 

Hears the other man still whimpering, sniffling, feels his tears dripping against his skin. Can't help it, raises a hand and strokes through his hair, "It's fine, you're gonna be fine, baby, come on," Rocks his thigh up against him again. Gets another loud, broken moan against his throat, "Feels good, doesn't it? Come on, be over soon, just have to cum, Dabi." 

Gets another weak nod against his neck as he keeps moving, thrusts going faster, breaths coming in harsh pants. His moans are constant and getting louder, higher, his muscles tightening, must be close--

Dabi's whole body goes rigid as he cums. Tomura lets out a slow breath, pulls his hand from his hair, ready to need to extract himself as the other man's sense returns. Takes a second for Dabi to pull his face from his neck, panting and eyes still hazy. Fuck. Looks so good blissed out with tears clinging to his cheeks. Doesn't even have time to linger on the wrongness of that thought slipping through his mind when Dabi didn't choose to show this to him, before the expression is gone, his brows pulling together for a second, confusion written across his features. Understands at the same time as him, as he doesn't feel Dabi softening at all. Cannot catch a fucking break with this quirk. 

"No," Dabi's little whine makes his chest fucking ache. Shatters his heart when Dabi gives another weak sob. "D-didn't work. Need more, fuck, please Tomura, please, I'm sorry." 

Immediately reaches and cups his face in his hands, trying to brush away the tears and shush him. Trying to comfort him. Didn't even know that would be something so automatic for him. Hadn't ever had to do it for anyone before they'd lost Magne. Definitely isn't any good at it but he'll try for Dabi, for all of them. "Shh, you don't have to apologize, Dabi. It's not your fault," knows that the words can't be trusted but he just needs something if he's going to convince himself to go through with this, "Are you sure you want me to help?" 

Dabi nods desperately, "Please, need you, please Tomura,"

Takes a shaky breath of his own. "Okay, gonna give you what you need." Tries to coax him out of his lap and Dabi clings a little tighter. "Just want to get you undressed, sweetheart, won't that feel good?" Earns another needy sound from the other man and he lets himself be shifted out of his lap and back onto the cot. Doesn't immediately reach to help him with the last bits of his clothes, Dabi struggling to do so himself with the suppression cuffs on, instead reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his gloves. Doesn't usually wear them in bed, usually trusts his control even here, but Dabi is already so desperate, has already grabbed at him a few times. Is already so vulnerable and he is not going to make that any worse by potentially hurting him further with his quirk. 

Gets on his gloves, takes a small breath to steady himself and then reaches to help him with the thick belt and the clasp of his pants. Dabi moans again when he gets them open, when the cooler air of the room touches his hot skin. Wonders if he would literally be on fire if not for the cuffs. Can't really keep stalling and the arsonist lifts his hips eagerly so he can peel the leather away from his long legs. Fuck. Wondered what he would look like naked, prettier than he imagined. Wondered how far the scars would go, didn't know if he expected them to wrap around his legs, stapled together around the middle of his thighs and extending down to his calf on one leg and all the way to his ankle on the other. But there is an expanse of unblemished skin, smeared with his release, glistening with sweat too, his cock flushed and curving up against his stomach, a ladder of six shiny barbells decorating the underside of his length. Feels his own arousal starting to build as he takes in the sight of the other man, especially when Dabi whimpers, 

"Tomura," hips rocking up, looking for anything, and he tears his eyes away from his body and finds Dabi looking back at him, eyes hazy and half-lidded, face flushed, tears still clinging to his cheeks. Swallows and tries to focus. Just needs to get him off, break the quirk. 

Wraps his hand around Dabi's cock, giving him a long slow stroke, palm sliding easily enough when he's already wet with cum. Is aching himself when Dabi moans so loudly, cuffed hands reaching and tangling tight in his shirt as his back arches, head thrown back, the sound tearing from his chest as he starts to rock up into his fist immediately, spreading his legs even wider. Lets Dabi set the pace, lets him fuck into his hand fast and messy. Tries to find what he likes. Figures out from how his voice goes high and whining that he wants him to tug a little at the piercings, that he likes it when he tightens his grip around his base. 

Finds out how badly he wants to be kissed when the hands in his shirt yank him roughly, tugging him down just enough for Dabi to crash their lips together. Doesn't mean to let himself moan softly against the other's lips, but if anything the soft sound makes Dabi more frantic. Lips needy and wanting, tongue flicking out over his, teeth following. And he's too weak to stop him. Opens his mouth, meets his tongue. Kisses Dabi rough and filthy until he's getting familiar with the lingering taste of smoke all over Dabi's tongue and the other man is moaning. Is still kissing him when his body goes rigid again, when he lets out another gut-punched sound of pleasure before his cock is twitching against his palm and he's spilling again. 

"Ah, Tomura, please, more," Doesn't even pause this time, keeps fucking into his hand. Still hard. Fuck. Not enough. Can't help it, presses another kiss to his panting mouth. Dabi cants his hips up again, pulls back so he can look into those pretty, lust-dark eyes, "Inside? Please, want you." Doesn't. Not really. But he's still in danger. Will be until the quirk breaks.  

"Okay," his voice soft and thin. Wishes this was real. Wishes that Dabi really wanted this. Takes his wet hand from around Dabi's cock and he spreads his legs wide so that he can press his fingers to his hole. Blinks, confused, because he's already wet. Shifts so that he can see, and realizes that there's something slick dripping down his thighs, his hole glistening with it. Another effect of the quirk? Doing something to make his body ready for what it would make him crave? Rubs a finger over his hole, smearing the slick, seeing more of it drip out as the ring of muscles twitches against the touch. The whine Dabi makes is going to haunt his dreams after this. 

"Duster," watches Dabi's mouth fall slack as he slowly presses his finger inside. Wet enough he doesn't feel any drag as he sinks into that tight heat, muscles immediately squeezing around him, getting another loud moan as Dabi rocks back. Still tries to go slow, doesn't want to rush here and risk hurting him, uses his other hand to hold his hips so that he can't fuck himself open. Every press of his finger has a little more fluid leaking out of him and after another minute he hesitantly presses in a second finger. Only makes Dabi moan even louder, his fingers knotted in his shirt so tightly that his knuckles are going white, "Ah, Tomura," Starts to work him open more deliberately, crooking his fingers, searching. 

Finds his prostate and Dabi sobs again. Shit, tries to ease off, 

"No, no, more, so good, please, Shig, please," Okay, fuck. Keeps going, watching Dabi fall apart, his cock drooling constantly, tears slipping across his temples. His cock is aching. Doesn't matter, shouldn't be, adds another finger, keeps pressing. Slowly loosens his grip on Dabi's hip, lets him start to fuck himself on his hand. Doesn't take long until he's frantic, moving so fast that the wet slide of it is obscene, competing with the litany of pleasured sounds still falling off his lips. Keeps going until his muscles are squeezing tight around him and he's cumming again. 

Stays hard. 

Sees Dabi grit his teeth, sees him swallow hard, turn his face so it's half hidden against the pillow. Another sob, deeper, coming from his chest in a way that makes his gut so sour, feels hollowed out when he speaks again. "...'m sorry, fuck me, please, need your cock." Voice so small and shaken. Doesn't know what else he can do, doesn't know how long Dabi can stay like this. 

Reaches and wipes away a few more tears. Dabi presses into the touch, eyes squeezing shut. "Alright, baby," Doesn't know what to do with the ache in his chest when Dabi wraps his hand around his wrist to keep him there so he can shift and press a soft kiss to his palm. Only lets go of him when he eases his fingers out of his body and starts to shift to pull himself from his pants. Watches him again with those dark eyes. His cock is aching as he shifts, made all the worse when Dabi moans softly as he sees him, teeth sinking into his lip as he tangles his hands back into his shirt and tries to pull him closer, urging him to go faster. 

Wraps a hand around Dabi's thigh, the other leg hooking around his hip and pulling him closer, until his head is dragging over his hole. Dabi gasps, his whole body trembling, trying to rock against him. Fuck, the friction feels so good. Takes one more breath to steady himself before he starts to press into the tight, wet, heat of the other man's body. Can't help the groan that pulls from his chest as he sinks inside. Swallows him up greedily, Dabi moaning so loudly that his voice cracks, panting harshly when he bottoms out. Means to give him a second to adjust but Dabi doesn't care to wait, immediately starts to roll his hips, making short needy little sounds as he does so, his cock leaking all over his stomach and muscles tightening rhythmically around him. 

Never going to have him again, will be lucky if the other man doesn't light him on fire when this passes. Wants to make it good, wants to help him, wants him. Just once. Lets himself focus on that as he starts to fuck him. Moves a little slower than the frantic twitches of Dabi's hips, makes sure that he's going deep, hitting his prostate. It's an indulgence that he shouldn't allow himself, but he does, lets himself press kisses and little nips along Dabi's jaw and throat as he wraps one hand around his cock and strokes him in time with his thrusts. Has the arsonist moaning even louder, reaching up as best he can to tangle a hand in his hair, starts to pull his mouth away from his skin only to find Dabi dragging him back into a messy kiss. Kisses him back, kisses him with every broken aching hope that he had for this that has been absolutely destroyed. Has the man sobbing against his mouth, kissing him back hard. 

Keeps moving, pleasure building under his skin, surprised that Dabi hasn't cum again. Dripping all over his hand, can feel it leaking out of him with every thrust, fuck, what if this wasn't what he needed to break it? "Dabi,"

"Shig," immediately rocks back against him harder. 

"What do you need sweetheart?" Do anything to stop this for him. To make him better. 

Dabi whimpers, face flushing even darker before he tries to hide against his shoulder, fingers tightening in his shirt. "...More?"

Fucks him harder, moves his hand faster, gets another loud moan pressed against his throat. "That it, baby?" Not expecting the whine he gets at the words too. 

"More," he pleads. Hasn't changed the pace. Takes him a second, 

"Want me to talk to you, Dabi?" Makes the heat in his veins go even sharper when Dabi whimpers, nodding weakly against his neck. "Doing so good for me, baby," he tries, nearly choking on his arousal. Feels how he goes tighter, hears the little moan against his skin again, his hips moving a little more desperately. "That's it, fuck, feel so good, sound so good." Every word a confession he shouldn't be allowed, "Didn't know you could make those sounds, gorgeous." Sounds that are starting to change, short fast little gasps that come each time he sinks into his body. So hot and tight around him that he's feeling his orgasm starting to creep up on him. "Getting close, darling?" 

Another little nod against him and a weak sob. 

"Shh, that's good baby, just need to cum for me. One more time," hopes he's right, hopes the fact that this one has taken so much longer means it's the last, "So pretty when you cum, let me see you one more time, please, baby?" 

"Duster," didn't even know Dabi's voice could go so high and thin. 

Goes even tighter around his cock and he's gasping a moan himself, tangles a hand in Dabi's hair and pulls gently, coaxing him back enough he can look at him again. Almost delirious with his pleasure, whimpers when their eyes meet, blush darkening further. "Beautiful," perfect. 

"Tomura," presses in again, meets him. Kisses him hard as Dabi's body goes rigid one more time, goes so tight around his cock, doesn't even feel him cumming in his hand, can't stop himself from giving two more shallow thrusts before he's sinking as deep as he can and following Dabi over the edge. And then they're not so much as kissing as they are just sharing breaths as they both try to greedily fill their lungs with air. Takes another second before Dabi gives a low, relieved gasp, and Tomura feels him starting to soften. Is only relieved himself a second before everything that just happened starts to settle in him. Broke the quirk. Dabi's not going to die. Doesn't make up for everything else. 

Shifts as gently as he can. The damage is already done but he's still careful as he lets go of him and pulls out. Dabi's eyes are closed, still panting, completely limp against the cot, fuck, okay. Needs to at the very least get him something to drink before he tells him to fuck off or tries to kill him. Starts to move away. Dabi makes a sharp sound, eyes opening, pupils shrunk back to normal, lets him see all of that pretty blue again, and reaches for him, holding onto his shirt. 

"Wait--" Can't help it, his eyes automatically flick back to his cock, but he's not hard again. Meets his eyes again and Dabi is flushing, doesn't stay looking at him for long, "Cuffs." 

Oh. Right. Shit. Didn't grab a key on his way in, doesn't know what the code is. "Right, sorry, hold still." His gloves are filthy and he takes them off as he shifts away from the arsonist, enough that he can sit up. Once they're off Dabi lets him take hold of his wrists, pressing five fingers to the cuffs. They gray and crack, dust falling away from his skin after another second. He pulls his hands away immediately, moving to stand. 

"Just hang on a second, please--" sounds like himself again, but Tomura is confused why he'd reach to catch his sleeve tightly. Hesitates. Dabi still can't meet his eyes. "I'm sorry, but fuck, you could at least stick around long enough for me to thank you for saving my life." 

The sickness in his stomach grows. "Don't thank me for that." His voice hoarser than he'd expected. "I wasn't going to let you die, Dabi." 

Dabi lets go of his sleeve, "Right. Sorry." Takes a shaky breath and starts to look for his clothes. "Just give me a second and I'll be out of your hair." 

"No," Shit, definitely lost the right to give him any kind of order after all of that, tries to backtrack, "I'll go, but you need to drink something, and if you can stand being here, wait for the doctor to come back. I don't know if the quirk will have any side effects." Feels like he's trying not to startle an injured animal. "I'll stay as far away as you want, never have to see me again, but at least wait for the doctor to check you over." 

Sees Dabi's jaw clench, a tremor run through him, gives a short tight nod. "Right, okay." Voice tight too. "I'm sorry."

Didn't even know his chest could ache so sharply. "You don't have anything to apologize for, Dabi. This wasn't your fault--"

Not expecting the bark of laughter, short and bitter, Dabi finally shifting to meet his eyes. "That's sweet, Shig, but I literally dragged you into bed. Should've let you leave, shouldn't have touched you." 

Realizes that he's staring at the other man when Dabi starts to move again, going back to looking for his scattered clothes. "How aware were you?" 

Sees his jaw tense again. "...Knew what I was doing, knew I shouldn't. Couldn't stop myself anyway." 

"Because you knew what would happen if you didn't?"

Sees his shoulders hunch in on himself. "Not an excuse. Shouldn't have made you--"

"Dabi," 

"My fault. Got hit, made you stay, saw how hard you were trying not to touch me, made you anyway--" 

"I didn't want to hurt you," barely recognizes his own voice. Doesn't know if it's ever sounded so thin. "Dabi, I didn't want to take advantage of you." Sees the other man tense further. "...I didn't know how aware you were of what was happening. I wouldn't have let you die and I was trying to hold back, to just do what I thought would help break the effect. What I was doing was bad enough, I didn't want to go any further than I had to to help you." Finally gets blue eyes back on him. Shouldn't admit, "Would have been happy to touch you in any other circumstance." 

Really expects to be set on fire for that. But Dabi keeps staring at him. Feels like an eternity passes between them. "...Wouldn't have let anyone else. Would have asked for you if someone else tried to help." 

"You're sure?" Seems like he's all back together again, but he kind of doesn't dare let the hope start to knit back together that aching thing in his chest. 

Dabi flushes, "Yeah, Duster." 

"Okay," too small a word for everything now tangled between them. "Do you want me to leave?" 

"...You don't have to." 

"Not what I asked, Dabi." 

"...no."

"Okay." 

Another long stretch before Dabi mumbles, "... can come back over here if you want." Tempted to ask if he's sure again, only doesn't because Dabi seems to be anticipating the question, "I feel fine now, Shig. Know what I'm saying. Would absolutely tell you to leave or torch you if I didn't want you here. Not gonna die if you leave if you'd rather do that." 

"I don't want to go anywhere, Dabi." Moves back over to the cot and settles on the edge carefully, still searching the arsonist for any sign of discomfort. A light pink blush is dusting his cheeks, gets darker when their eyes meet before Dabi's quickly looking away again. "We would have all been hit if you hadn't stepped in." Could have dropped all of them. Might have been killed, might have burned to death, or been arrested before they even woke up and found out about the rest of it. Dabi saved them. 

He shrugs, sees him chewing on where a staple pierces into his cheek. "Wasn't going to be useless again."

"What are you talking about?" Has been one of their best. Well, if he's going to play favorites, Dabi is the best at his job. Smart, motivated, barely needs any oversight to be effective. There's a reason he lets the other man wander off whenever he chooses, always knows he'll come back when he's called and is more likely to bring something good with him when he does. 

Still not meeting his eyes. "Didn't do a damn thing in Kamino, wasn't even around when you all went to see Overhaul." His voice going tighter, "Could've stopped the bastard before he even lifted a hand--" Takes a breath, sees him exhale a little stream of smoke. "Not going to stand there and let you all get hurt again." 

"Can I kiss you?"

Dabi stiffens, head snapping up to look at him. "What?"

"I want to kiss you, can I?" 

"...yeah," 

Doesn't hesitate, curls a hand around the back of his neck, careful to keep one finger from his skin, and pulls him in. Meant for it to be gentle, starts that way, just a soft press of lips. But then Dabi shifts, moves closer, opens his mouth with a soft sigh as he reaches back. Can wrap his arms around his neck this time without the cuffs on. Keeps him close and Tomura wants to kiss him without guilt souring it. Tastes fresh smoke on Dabi's tongue as he licks into his mouth, feels his whole body go hotter against his as he does, as the other man gives as good as he gets until they're both a little breathless. Dabi who pulls away, blushing hotly, with a mumbled, 

"Fuck, gotta stop," Immediately shifts to let go of him, sees the other man shifting a little, "...Might be finding some of those side effects." Can't help it, his gaze slips lower, sees his cock starting to harden again. 

"Really?"

"Shut up." Bright red across the section of his cheeks that aren't scarred. "Still feel fine, quirk's not out of control just... sensitive I guess." Squirms again and his mouth goes dry, 

"Still getting wet?" 

"Shut up, Duster!" Feels his temperature spike with his embarrassment. "I'm fine, doesn't feel like before. Don't have to--" 

"Want to. Told you, happy to go to bed with you, Dabi. Just need to know you want it too." 

Takes a breath, meets his eyes again. "Want you to fuck me again. Wanted you before this quirk fucked it up." Wraps his hands around Dabi's hips and pulls him into his lap again, 

"Say it again, baby." Breathes it against Dabi's lips as he gently rocks his thigh up between his legs. 

Earns him a sweet, soft moan. "Want you to fuck me, Tomura." Is tangling his fingers in his hair, trying to pull him even closer as he speaks, kisses him as soon as the words are out of his mouth. 

"Give you anything you want, Dabi," barely enough breath for the words when they part. Wants to burn away the sourness of the first time.

"Want you," eyes focused and sharp the way he's come to expect from the other man, shifting closer, reaching for the hem of his shirt as he moves to press a kiss to the edge of his jaw. Lets himself believe the words this time. Lets himself pull Dabi closer. 

Lets them both take what they want from each other. 

Thank you so much for your submission!

[mirai1269]

Yandere Shenanigans: Adventures of Little Bro

LEAKED PLOT!!! 😱😱😱 (rough draft)

The phone kept ringing, and at this point, MC had completely given up on hanging up the calls.

Ever since MC married Vincent to escape the chaotic shenanigans of two Yandere love interests fighting over him, his wish of peace was finally granted. Sure he now had to spend the rest of his days with one of the Love interests who tormented them, but at least the rivalry was settled and he could go back to taking care of his own life and the life of his little Brother, Newt. He was finally at peace knowing that Vincent was downstairs cooking dinner, and Newt was living his life with his friends Jon and Moria.

Little did he know, that peace this was the calm before the storm.

The phone rang again by the time the MC had finished writing his birthday card for Vincent. It was without a doubt Leon, the love interest he had to reject to finally live in peace, who kept calling. At first, it was spontaneous as Leon was struggling to face rejection, but on the night of his Husband’s birthday, he just had to be constantly pestering him.

When he decided he should at least see what Leon was trying to say on the phone, he heard his Husband calling.

“Honey! Dinner’s ready.” Vincent’s voice called from below

“Coming!” MC shouted, abandoning his ringing phone and Leon.

Leon didn’t call again that night.

When he made it downstairs, he was greeted with the mouth-watering smell of whatever was cooking in the pot.

“Smells delicious!” MC said, walking over to the kitchen and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Vincent flinched, but it was most likely due to shock.

Vincent pour the curry from the pot into two bowls and leads MC into the dining area decorated with… Poppies? I though he preferred roses? Maybe it’s a special birthday thing for him.

“Vincent, didn’t you say that you were going to cook steak for dinner?”

“Change of plans, I’m trying out a new recipe for today. Besides, I gotta learn to take care of everything in case my favorite chef were to get sick.”

Maybe Newt told him that the original person in this body used to be a great chef, but he has NEVER cooked anything better than instant cup noodles since marrying Vincent. This makes him dread the fact that this whole happy marriage was a facade. One day, take it a week or years, they would finally figure out who he is, he’s not Newt’s brother, and he’s not the person Vincent was meant to love. Bit by bit, hint by hint, they would chip away his mask and find who’s really inside, they’ll find a-

“You alright? You’ve been staring at your food as if it’s poisoned.” Vincent says with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Oh, sorry, just have a lot on a mind.” He says, as he rushes to pick up a spoon and try out the curry. When he eats a spoonful, it tastes delicious.

“This is incredible! It’s true best thing you’ve cooked so far, you need to teach me how to make this.” MC says, swallowing the entire contents of the bowl in record time.

Vincent says nothing as he drinks his glass of water when there’s a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it.” Vincent says, getting up and walking to the door.

Then, a gunshot rang through the house.

“VINCENT!” MC says, running over to see an enraged Leon with a gun, and Vincent on the floor. Leon then shot Vincent two more times.

“LEON, WHAT THE HELL!”

Oh God, this was a mistake, OF COURSE THE LOVE INTEREST HE REJECTED WOULD WANT BLOOD, WHY ELSE IS THE SH🫢T HAPPENING!!!

The screaming catches Leon’s attention and he starts rushing over to him.

“F🫢CK!” He says running, of course, how is this scrawny body supposed to outrun a basketball player who can beat up 4 kidnappers.

Leon easily catches up and picks up the MC as if he were a sack of potatoes. MC tries to pry himself off Leon’s grasp by shoving him with his hands and screaming. He even accidentally ripped some of his hair off in the process.

“Stop Struggling!” Leon says, as he shifts his position to cover his mouth with a sweet smelling rag, wait… no, he was chloroforming him! He tries holding his breath, but Leon squeezed him in a way where it was hard to keep air in his lungs, and he quickly had no choice but to gasp for air.

“vin…. cent…” was the last thing he said before blacking out.

…………

“Big Bro, I’m ho-AAAHHHHH!!!!”

The first thing he saw was Vincent’s bloody corpse on the ground, looking at the blooming red spots on his body, multiple gunshots killed him. Even though he never trusted him, hated his attitude, and loathed the fact that his married his brother, he didn’t deserve this! Blood got all over his shoes, making him gag.

“BIG BRO!” He yelled, trying to find him, no response.

He walked across the house to find an empty and a cold bowl of curry in the dining area, he then walked over and picked up a tuff of hair on the ground, there is only one person he know in his life with this color of hair.

Leon

Ooooo! This is exciting! Can't wait to read/see the whole thing!

[alexturntable]

Ok so from that interview do we gain any more insight into what Mirrorball means? Is he saying it's like fragments (the way a it's made up of lots of tiny mirrors). So self reflection or the mirrorball is a song? It's too early and I'm short circuiting!

I’ve been thinking about this since I re-read that interview. Here is the full quote for context:

"I always wanted to use the word ‘Colorama’ in a song ever since I saw Antonioni’s Blow Up. It was an unplugged neon light at the back of my mind for years. Some lyrics are declarations of love or hate written in blood or carved in a bus stop, in need of little or no melodic illumination. Some, I believe, are there almost entirely to facilitate it. If I ever thought about it at all I’m sure I used to think the melody was the vessel that carried the lyrics but more recently it has occurred to me that the opposite is often true.

The problem with the neon sign analogy is that neon signs are invariably bolted to the wall and full of gas. Melody seems as though its poured rather than sprayed and doesn’t feel as though whatever holds it ought to be fixed to anything.

I sometimes imagine each word to be made using a three dimensional open-top glass alphabet. Each letter built to harness and transport the mirror ball liquid marble of the melody. When the ‘substance’ fills up the syllables they seem to shimmer and become weightless. With the addition of close harmony I see colours swirl together, parts of the lyrics glow and the way in which they float suggests that something like the ‘star gate’ sequence from 2001: A Space Odyssey is happening deep inside them out of view.”

So in this neon light analogy the letters are like containers made of glass which are meant to transport the melody. The melody is a "mirror ball liquid marble". Mirror balls reflect lights directed at them in all directions and liquid marble would create this effect of colours swirling together which when put together would look something like the star gate sequence he mentions. So I guess what we can understand from this is that in this analogy the mirror ball is part of the substance that represents the melody which fills the lyrics.

In There'd better be a Mirrorball, he may mean that he hopes that there will be "melodic illumination" or music accompanying this separation he's describing. After listening to Body Paint I feel like Mirrorball could also be a self-refelction song, probably the whole album. So maybe the "relationship" he seems to be ending is actually his relationship with the current persona he's been putting on that he's moving on from to start the process of writing a new album. That's why he starts with "don't get emotional that ain't like you". Maybe it was easier in the past to get rid of a persona but as he gets older it's more difficult to do so. "Yesterday's still leaking through the roof / that's nothing new" some parts of the previous persona are still present but it's always been this way. "I know I promised this is what I wouldn't do / somehow giving it the old romantic fool / seems to better suit the mood" he never wanted to write gooey songs or direct, staright-forward lyrics but now maybe he is.

"So if you wanna walk me to the car / you oughta know I'll have a heavy heart / so can we please be absolutely sure / that there's a mirrorball?" If the old persona wants to walk him to The Car, meaning the new album, he will be sad about parting with the old one so he wants to be really sure that this it's worth it, that there is a really good melody / song to use for this new era. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that this could be the same mirror ball metaphor he had in mind when he made that analogy in 2016 and this is how I would interpret it but it could also be a complete coincidence that he had used that word before. Either way it's fascinating to read the words he uses, his brain will never seize to amaze me.

[narratingvoice]

You may have heard the kerfuffle going around on Twitter in regards to Grand Theft Auto 6. Essentially, someone leaked the code for this very unfinished game, and some... shall we say ignorant Twitter users are already lambasting it for not having polished graphics yet. Again, this is a game in the alpha stages of development and not set to be released for at least two years, but some people think they can judge the quality of the finished product already because, and I quote, "visuals are one of the first things done".

This is not remotely true, and this blanket assertion irks me to no end. So I thought I'd join the many developers on Twitter countering this argument and share some of my personal development process, and the order in which things should be done. (Hint: graphics come near the end!)

Story

The story is of course the first and most important part of any video game. You should have the entire story committed to paper before you ever touch a computer. Treat it like you would a novel, with a full editing process to get your idea from first draft to a polished final form. Figure out what the passion deep within your soul is, convey your profound message to the world. You should also know every detail about your protagonist's life, from their favourite colour to the name of their first crush. Even if it never comes up in the story, it's vital to making them a well-rounded, believable character. Don't worry if writing takes a long time - this should be the hardest and most harrowing part of the process. Personally, I had the inspiration for The Stanley Parable as early as 2005 and worked on it off and on for years. It was an incredibly painful time in my life and I went through over 150 revisions before I was satisfied.

More secrets of game creation under the cut, because this got a little long even for me.

2. Gameplay

The next step is deciding what kind of game you'll be making. The style of gameplay you give your players will determine how they experience and absorb your story, so it's crucial that you choose the correct genre. My story is centred on the alienation of the common man within the modern workplace, so I went with a simple walking sim control scheme with no combat or puzzles to distract from the core theme. This will likely not be appropriate for you. If your story is, for example, a romantic tragedy between star-crossed lovers, it should properly be expressed as a platformer with a lot of collectibles. Writing a bildungsroman? Make it a Metroidvania. Science fiction dystopia? That should be a match-3 puzzle game.

3. Coding

Now that the idea work is finished, it's time to get to actually building the game. All video games, on their fundamental level, are made out of bytes. AAA game studios these days make games in the range of hundreds of gigabytes which they get from industrial suppliers, but if you're an indie developer, it's likely your game will be much smaller, in the range of several megabytes. I highly recommend buying fresh, locally grown bytes if at all possible. Check your local farmer's market to see if anyone has them for sale. If not, there's no shame ordering bulk packages from electronics shops; we all have to start somewhere. Once you have rinsed and dried your bytes, pour them into your computer and hit the "grind" button on your keyboard. Now they're ready to be built into all the assets your game will need! And if your project gets bigger than intended, you can always buy more.

4. Engine

Next you need to create the objects you want and put them all together. This is the step that the GTA6 code appears to be in, and it can take several years depending on how many objects you want. You'll need to pick an engine to work in, or if you're really ambitious, build your own custom engine. Popular engines such as Unity come with tools that let you create 3D objects by sculpting your code like clay. I personally hand-sculpted every corridor, door, and room in The Stanley Parable, and I don't even have an architecture degree! You'll want to practice making assets quickly, just in case you need to improvise and build new rooms after the game is finished. Because some people are nosy and just have to see what's beyond a door you didn't finish.

5. Orbs

I don't really have to explain this one, do I? It should be pretty obvious. We all know you can't make a game without orbs somewhere in the code. That's what holds the whole thing together.

6. Graphics

At last we come to the fabled visuals. You see how much work must come before this? You can't paint a house before you've constructed it, after all! And your graphic style really is like a coat of paint to make your game shine. Back in the 1980s, state of the art graphics looked like this:

But blocky sprites don't cut it with modern gamers who demand a sense of realism. (I still look like this, which is one of the reasons I don't show my face in game. It would clash with the vibe.) If you want your work to be taken seriously and win lots of awards, you must make it look as much like reality as possible. That means detailed skin and hair textures on all your characters, a perpetually dark sky, and lots of shiny metal objects everywhere just so you can show off how well they show reflections. Oh, and lots of little easter eggs that are barely readable unless you extract the texture and enlarge it. Your players will thank you for that.

7. Soundtrack

This honestly isn't that important. Just buy some royalty-free Creative Commons tracks and throw them in. Your players should be so engrossed in the story that the music hardly registers.

8. Beta Test

The final step, once everything is complete, is to play through your game a number of times to make sure it runs properly. Think of it like a rehearsal. In this stage you can catch any major bugs in the code and hopefully fix them. And if you find something unexpected happening, like for example your protagonist exhibiting sentience and free will, you can be prepared so you're not caught off guard on launch day. How embarrassing that would be. Of course no one is perfect, which is why patches exist.

And that's all there is to it! I hope this post was edifying. Now I'm going back to Twitter to laugh at people.

[semicharmedliving]

Not Having a Baja Blast

CW: colostomy bag

Well, as predicted, I’m not so great with this. The keeping up. But I’m still making an effort. Trying to anyway. Still in the hospital—been since Feb 8th; yesterday was the first time I was outside in all that time. Admittedly I was a Grumpy Gus about it. Whatever they did with the drain on my abscess had me in such horrible pain it was even hard to talk. It felt like my insides were being gutted by the toy plastic jack-o-lantern carving kits. Of course we had started weaning my painkillers bc I wasn’t needing them as frequently; then getting reapproved for more is a whole rigmarole. On top of that I had a doctor in here trying to convince me to eat something (that’s my real last hurdle to leave, being fully on a regular diet and not the TPN—the IV supplemental/complete nutrition); sure, guy, my insides are rebelling but let me eat this grilled cheese.

But yeah, I did the Healing Garden thing yesterday (that was the pic I last posted). I didn’t walk—I was in way too much pain for that—but I got wheeled down. It’s a tad underwhelming cause it’s only March yet, so the only place that really has anything is the area you enter with all the daffodils. The rest has some sprouts and signs of them beginning the garden. That didn’t do much to contribute to my mood, admittedly. Sitting in a wheelchair amongst barren plants when I’m not even someone who likes outdoors very much in the first place just felt stupid and silly. However, they had to get it approved for the wheelchair and the excursion, and for someone from hospital staff to escort me because you can’t leave without a chaperone, as though you’re planning on running away (I know it’s more for safety reasons but I like thinking that they’re afraid all 95lbs of me is gonna spring up out of my wheelchair, toss my IV pole with 4 different bags on it over my shoulder, and run screaming into the night.). So this girl had to take time out of her day to be out with dad and me. And then there’s the dad of it all. I know it was important to him that I do the good mental health thing, and that it was hard for him seeing me like that. I must have looked like a little old lady in a nursing home in my wheelchair with the blanket over me, and so thin and all. That can’t be an easy sight for a parent. None of this is; I’m gonna feel badly about the period where I was delirious for a while. So there I was, in pain, annoyed, angry even, but trying to be grateful and graceful about the whole thing. Which is a difficult feat. I hope I passed with at least a C-.

Today’s walk was a lot more promising til it wasn’t. It’s warmer and sunnier, and I was actually walking around. But then my colostomy bag leaked. One of my biggest fears: realized. Lived. And with dad here. I know he fears that for me too. I haven’t quite processed it yet. I tried to play it cool for everyone. It was really shitty though. Pun intended. Having shit just kind of pouring down your side uncontrollably isn’t something I would recommend for self-esteem. I’m honestly surprised I didn’t cry. Probably cause dad was here. I don’t want him to regret this even more than he already does. I’ll probably cry later on tonight. I know that I’ll be okay though. I will. I mean, I did get through it in the end. Of course the fear is that it’ll happen in public, but that’s something I’ll work on. And can prepare for.

It’s a beautiful day. I have visitors coming. Lively ones too, so it’ll be a nice distraction. I’m in a strange mood actually. Which makes sense. Coming off of a day of excruciating pain, then all that. My life is weird. But that’s okay.

I’ll probably write later. Or try, I should say. For now, cheers I guess.

Wednesday, March 16, 2024

[secret-jedi]

A Perspective from a 2015 Reylo Fan

(I don’t assume to speak for all reylo fans but this is my experience)

In 2015 it was considered close to a fact that rey was Luke’s daughter. Anything other than pure contempt for kylo was condemned. The idea that there was the barest hint of a romantic element to rey and kylo’s story in the films going forward was considered an impossibility and resulted in being banned from forums, disregarded as an unhinged fan girl and complete rejection from the mainstream Star Wars fan base. Accusations of being fake fans who ‘didn’t get Star Wars’, sexism, racism, rape apology, incest, you name it. There was a lot of self hatred in the early days that the reylo fandom has grown out of now, it has grown because of beautiful people who wrote near prophetic metas, stunning artwork, fanfics, theories, podcasts, content born out of pure love for the characters and films. Liking reylo became even more than a ship, it was a whole perceptive and way of thinking of the meaning of the sequel trilogy/the saga.

The bar was so low. After being gaslit and being told we were seeing things that weren’t there or misinterpreting blatant canon (bless the OG Offical databank update) it’s no wonder we couldn’t believe our luck when TLJ came out and it picked up where TFA left off. Many were so surprised that we thought it would take the whole film for rey and kylo to be civil to each other but the film sped right past that point obvsiously and the film concluded as it did. From Luke not being the mentor rey needed, the freaking force bond, the shirtless scene (still feels like a fever dream that rian did That), the hand touch scene (smut hut), fighting back to back, the proposal and separation, TLJ was insane to comprehend. Now that TROS is here and no matter what is in it, I’d like to think the positivity outweighs the negative.

Despite the countless -Gates, false leaks, real leaks, on the whole this corner of the fandom has been the most welcoming and creative place to enjoy. I lurked in the reylo tag (which was mostly the Elmo on fire gif for a time) since I got home after the TFA premiere and wondered if others had the same suspicions I had about the movie, and for quite a while after I only lurked because of the fear a lot of people had at the time about making their blogs more reylo friendly because of the threat of abuse from others on the site. Since diving in years ago I have made some of the best friends in my life. I intend to stick around for quite a while because whether people find the ending hopeful, bittersweet, or tragic, I know there’s a lot left to say and enjoy with one another. These past few years haven’t been easy for me but online I’ve found not just an escape from reality but a community of people. Really all I wanted to say was THANK YOU

[the-devils-girl94]

A Sloppy Payback

Prompt: Blowjobs On The Beach

Characters: Belphegor x MC

Content Warnings: Blowjobs, A Miffed Belphie, Somnophilia, Slight Dom! Belphie, Bratty! MC, Hair Pulling, Face-fucking, Deep throating, etc.

((God I hope this is the shortest fic I will ever have to write because damn. Anyway enjoy another @voltage-vixen 's Summer of Smut fic for your dinner platters.))

Feeling a heated glare on your person, you turned around to locate the source of it. Once you did, you confirmed it was none than your upset lover, Belphegor. You winked at him and snickered as the glare he sent you was fully deserved on your part.

Earlier that day, you had went to the twins’ rooms to wake him up.  You wanted him up and at ‘em since you guys were leaving for the beach in a few hours, as courtesy of Lord Diavolo. Beelzebub had asked you to wake him up since he was already packed and ready to go, but Belphie was not. You had did all you could to wake him up: shake him, poke him, slapped his booty. But nothing worked except make him stir and roll on his back. You huffed and tried to think of another method. And glancing over his sleeping form, you thought of one. A very mischievous one that you knew Belphie would get back at you for.

You got on the bed, your added weight dipping the bed in but no stirring from your lover.

“Belphie~,” you whisper-sung into his ear but all you got was soft snoring. You rolled your eyes and pouted. You settled yourself between his legs, hooking your fingers underneath the hem of his pajama pants. You rolled them down enough to expose his flaccid cock, resting neatly under tufts of dark bluish-grey pubic hair. Your cheeks became pink at what you were about to do, but it was almost exciting for you. 

Gently taking hold of his member, you gave it a few jerks, feeling it starting to harden already. You kissed the tip and heard Belphegor’s breath hitch as his body stiffened. Oh, possible progress, hm? 

You continued to stroke him until he was completely hard, pre-cum starting to leak from the tip. 

He started to squirm when your tongue came out to lap it up, his hips rising and heavy sighs leaving from his lips. You moaned inwardly as now heat was building up inside of you. You set to work on licking the base of his cock, leaving a trail of your saliva as you licked your way to top. You gave the tip another kiss before your lips wrap around it and you started to go down. You could hear Belphie’s breathing getting heavier until you managed to get a groan out of him and a hand was gripping at your hair. You whined low in your throat, wanting to continue with your ministrations, but you looked up. Belphie was staring at you, wide awake and blushing.

You gently removed his hand from your hair and pulled off his cock with a pop. You licked your lips at him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Glad to see you’re awake, Belphie~,” you grinned. His eyes darkened with lust when you sung his name.

“(Y/N),” he started but you shushed him.

“I know you would like me to continue, but you need to get to packing. We’re leaving in a few hours. See ya!”

And then you left. Before the door completely shut, you could hear Belphegor calling after you, telling you to wait. But you didn’t. You sighed with relief, congratulating yourself on making a smooth and quick getaway. But you knew you were going to be in a world of trouble. But it was a good thing you left when you did, otherwise you would have missed the trip with Belphie satisfying all his desires with you. And things were getting a bit heated on your end too.

After that, before you guys left on the trip, Belphegor tried to grab your attention in any way possible. He tried talking to you, but you would ignore him. He tried texting you, but if he replied that he wasn’t done packing yet, you left him on read. He even tried cornering you and that was almost successful, but then came the rescue of his gentle giant of a brother and you made your escape.

So, suffice to say, now that you guys were on the beach, Belphegor was PISSED! You felt a little bad for leaving him like that without finishing. However, you knew your boyfriend and if you had stayed, well...you two wouldn’t even be on this trip.

For someone who will literally sleep all day, he sure was active and energetic when it came to intimate activities. Especially if you had been particularly bratty that day as well. He would have had you completely worn out. And now that you had awoken the beast, you were still hiding, running, and ignoring your lover. For some reason, you really wanted to rile him up more. This little game of cat and mouse has gotten you much more excited than before and the punishment you faced was thrilling. You could definitely say you were looking forward to it.

________________________________________________________________

You got caught. And it completely caught you off guard. 

You managed to get away from your lover multiple times, but it only lasted for a few hours until he finally caught you. What? You really thought you could get away from a demon who’s hell-bent on catching you?

You were sitting around with everyone, including Belphie who sat across from Lucifer. His eyes tried to burn a hole through you, but you had gotten used to it so you paid it no mind. You were busy conversing with Leviathan when you decided to excuse yourself for a moment. 

Unfortunately, this is where your game of cat and mouse ended as your lover had noticed and excused himself when you were out of sight to follow you. Just as you thought you were safe, you felt your wrist get grabbed by a tight grip and a shiver went down your spine when the unmistakable voice of your lover reached your ears.

“Got you.”

Ah fuck...

Soon you found yourself backed against a wall with your mouth being thoroughly ravished and a hardened member slowly stroking against your sex. With your legs being held up by your nap-loving boyfriend, you tried to move a little faster to get more friction, but he kept your hips in place by bringing his body closer to yours. Your mind became so muddled as you became breathless from the intense make out and the pleasure from your nether regions sent waves through your body. Every moan you uttered got swallowed up and you whined when you needed to come up for air. You were granted the courtesy when Belphie pulled away from you, the string of saliva connecting you until it broke.

“Nngh, Belphie,” you whined as you squirmed, desperately wanting to feel more of him. “Come on~. Go faster.”

“Shhh,” he shushed you, only amping up his speed a little bit. He kissed the length of your neck, stopping to suck on your jugular before pulling away. “This is your punishment for earlier. You shouldn’t have left me like that.”

“S-Sorry! But you wouldn’t, hnn, wouldn’t respond to-to anything else I did to you.”

“Oh? So you just put your pretty, little mouth on my cock.”

Uh-oh, you thought as you grew suspicious at the growing smirk on his face. You were right to be when Belphie’s movement came to a halt and you felt your body being lowered.

“Then I guess you can use it again to make me cum.”

Screaming internally because you knew he would make that request, you almost wanted to deny him but figured this is a deserved punishment. You dropped into a squat and before you stood Belphie’s throbbing member. You gulped and prayed that you didn’t get lockjaw. 

Your hands found balance against your lover’s thighs, gripping onto them for security. Parting your lips, you took in the head, tasting the pre-cum that leaked on your tongue. Instead of going slow, like you originally wanted to to spite your lover, your head bobbed at quick pace, drawing out moans from your lover. Your saliva started to leak out pass your lips, dribbling down to your chin as you sucked. You felt that all too familiar heat from earlier and thought back on the feeling of sliding your lover’s dick into your mouth. You moaned around his cock, sending vibrations throughout. 

“Fuck, (Y/N)! You’re way too good at this,” groaned Belphie. His hands came up to grip at your hair again. You felt him pull so you could look at him, stopping you in your tracks, and another moan escaped you. Your body tingled with pleasure and your grip on your lover’s thighs tightened.

“Oh? You liked that, huh?”

Belphegor could tell it did when your eyes met his. He could see them daring him to do it again as your eyes stayed in contact as you resumed devouring his cock. You buried your nose into the patch of pubic hair, taking him as far you could into the back of your throat. You hummed around him, making him hiss and grip your hair tighter. Pulling at your hair, he forced you back, his cock slipping out in the process. You panted heavily and so did Belphie. 

It wasn’t long before your mouth was back on him, but this time your head was stuck in place as Belphie started thrusting inside your mouth. Your hands were too busy to tend to the overwhelming heat growing inside you. They stayed on your lover’s thighs as his balls smacked against your chin. Your knees trembled as you squatting wasn’t holding up very well, but it didn’t last long as Belphegor’s thrusts became erratic. His cock throbbed inside your mouth and he buried it deep inside as he stilled himself. Hot, warm strings of cum poured down your esophagus. 

Still wanting more, you swallowed around your lover, moving your tongue to get a reaction out of him. A quick yank of your hair was his warning to not tempt him, but of course you had to.

You were his little brat.

[mzmezzler]

Soiled Sweets - Felix x Fem!Reader

shortlist: CG!reader, sub!felix, little!felix, food play, cum eating, ageplay, mdlb, mommy kink, spoon feeding, domestic setting, handjob, milking, overstim, aftercare

word count: 1.6k

summary: based off this prompt I made~

a/n: another felix idea I shoved everything to the side for...anyway I hope you all like it, I’ve been having a lot of fun with my writing lately and I thank you all for helping me form this idea.

Any and all feedback is appreciated :)

-

"Just a little bit more Lixie, the cup is almost full" You sigh.

Over twenty minutes have transpired in the time you’ve been standing with Felix pressed against your front with his spent cock in your hand, leaking his precum and release into a cup of warm syrup sitting on the kitchen counter.

The mix of the dark amber colored liquid and the blonde’s milky cum is mesmerizing in the ceramic dish you placed on the counter between the boy’s legs.

It was all for Felix’s breakfast, his pancakes.

~

“Felix why are you being so clingy, let me finish our breakfast and then we can lie down together.” You press while you pour more batter into the pan.

Felix had been pestering you for some time now, requesting to lick the spoon when you were done stirring the mix, hovering while you cooked, and clinging onto your side as if he couldn’t help you within the whole cooking process.

It was nothing you couldn’t ignore until the telltale whine Felix let out as you continued to absentmindedly ignore him. It was the same whine that Felix let out when he was needy, but you still had a more important task at hand. However, there was no harm in multitasking.

“Why don’t you take over for me Lixie, you must be so eager to help” You mock.

Stilling by your side at your condescending tone, Felix starts to remove himself from your side and try to mask how you startled him out of the little world he worked himself into. The shame is visible in the red flush on the tips of his ears, but on closer inspection it seemed the boy was starting to shrink himself down a bit at your gaze.

Letting your features soften, you take a moment to ease the last pancake off of the skillet and into the plate nearby after turning off the stove before turning your full attention to your partner, “Are you ok love? Did I say something?”

To which Felix looks up at you before opening his mouth and closing it with a frustrated grumble. Fidgeting with the drawstring in his day pajamas, Felix let’s out a small hum before he gathers his words.

“Jus’ needy” he lets out.

Oh

Placing your hands on his shoulders to soothe and pet over his sides, you tip up the boy’s chin so your eyes meet, “Are you feeling small Lixie?”

Nodding at your words, Felix shuffles more into your arms, nuzzling into your neck and pressing himself to your front where you can feel his slight bulge poke at your thigh. It wasn’t too surprising the boy got so worked up while you had your attention elsewhere.

It was still early in the morning and while you woke up and decided to fix a bit to eat for the two of you to share as Felix continued to sleep at the time, the blonde tended to wake up in a little mood. And him finding the bed empty and made on one side probably left him confused until the smell of vanilla made its way into the bedroom, reminding him he wasn’t alone.

Sighing into the loose embrace, your eyes roam over the kitchen while your head is perched on Felix’s shoulder. And an idea pops into your head when you train your focus onto the decorative sauce pitcher half full with maple syrup.

“Do you think you can still help mommy with something, little one?”

With a small “mhm”, you unwrap yourself from the hug Felix had you wrapped in just to guide him over to the counter and press him onto the surface, shushing the small gasp at the contact.

“Now, I want you to do something for Mommy angel, is that ok?” you whisper. Being so close to Felix you could whisper the words right into his ear, while trailing a hand down his front, ignoring his breath picking up steadily as your hand goes to dip into his sleep pants.

“Now angel, here’s how you’re going to help me-” using one hand to bring the sauce dish closer to the edge of the counter you use your other hand to pull the boy’s cock from his pants. “-and we’re going to make a bit more syrup for our pancakes since my boy is so needy” You pause to gauge the reaction of the blonde, “Can you do that for Mommy?”

“Mhm, Lixie can!” he pleads. “He can be a good boy”

“Good, now Mommy is going to help you make a mess into this dish, can you do that for me?"

Squirming in your arms, Felix whines and looks down at the dish below his erection mumbling a restrained “please” before he goes to grasp up at your shoulders, turning his head to nuzzle into the side of your face.

The position isn’t the most comfortable, but as you start gathering the precum beading from the tip of Felix’s cock and slide your hand back up his shaft; the little doesn’t cease his motions while you start to properly jerk him off.

Working up to a leisurely pace, Felix starts to let out high pitched moans while watching his cock lazily dribble into the dish below him. It was a mesmerizing sight to watch the clear fluid drop into the dark syrup.

“M-mommy, Lixie’s close…”

“Let it all out sweetheart, be a good boy for Mommy” you coo.

Feeling his erection in the way the blonde tenses up against you, you angle Felix’s cock down to point into the dish before he shoots his release into the syrup. It wasn’t much for this being the first time the boy came today, but for it to make a difference in the topping you’d need a bit more.

“Aw well look at that, you barely added anymore to it hun-” You scoff.

Running the boy’s dick over the rim of the dish, you smile at the cry he lets out at the cool ceramic surface pressed against his sensitive tip being wiped over the side to not miss a drop.

“-we’ll just have to make a bit more.”

“M-mommy, please”

Felix was shaking like a leaf at this point, still erect after his first release with tears threatening to spill from his sparkling eyes, he slumps forward, bracing himself on the counter while you continue your strokes with a renewed vigor.

Yelps and ragged pants are forced from the boy’s lips while you lean over him and nip at his reddened ears while increasing your pace.

Felix is fully crying at this point, chanting “Mommy” in near incoherent sobs as if he was trying to hold out for as long as possible.

Soon enough, Felix ends his string of calls for you before he moans a small “please” that you wouldn’t have made out if it weren’t for how close the two of you were.

“Cum for me”

And as his labored whimpers fill the kitchen space, you run the tip of your thumb over his slit, letting out a chuckle at the hiss that is forced out of the boy before the last few spurts of cum he could muster drip into the decorative dish below.

“Now look how you filled up the cup with your special syrup angel, why don’t we try it hm?”

~

With your arms crossed over Felix’s, you cut and pierce the fresh pancake with a fork before plunging the portion into the dish, mixing the content together evenly before bringing the cake covered in the lightened syrup to the blonde’s lips.

Felix’s mouth “Mommy?”

“Yes my love?” you hum.

“Thank you”

“There’s no need to thank me dear, now say ah.”

Dropping his jaw to make an o shape, you grace a bit of syrup to the little’s lips to let him giggle as you purposely miss his mouth before you let Felix bite down and hum at the taste of his meal.

“How does it taste Lixie?” You whisper.

“Sweet”

[totromanticfool]

HC – How the guys confess to mc. Part 2 – Vyn Richter

I am back again. The writing and internet gods probably took pity on me, and gave me both the fastest internet on the block, as well as a ton of writing energy. Also, I started experimenting with putting in thoughts, these will be cursive. (oh and, I have no idea when roses bloom, so just pretend they do in the spring, lol) But, without further ado, part 2. Enjoy!

Vyn Richter – Subtle but strong

Vyn Richter was the embodiment of elegance. So, when he decided it was time for him to finally confess his true feelings, it would be elegant.  

Vyn knew Rosa could be a little (my apologies, a lot) dense when it came to any type of romantic gesture or advance, so he had to thread light but strong, making sure there were no misinterpretations.

His little sanctuary, the backyard with the overflowing rose bushes, would seem to be a perfect spot.

Afternoon Jasmin tea with various baked sweets, Vyn made sure she would feel cherished before his words would reach her.

It wasn't long after Vyn started his weekly check up with Rosa, that he invited her over for some well-deserved tea. The moment she walked into his mansion he felt her tense and tired atmosphere. He should have known she worked too much again; she always worked too much.

Without any words he took her hand and led her into his garden, red roses in full bloom. The spring sun hanging low, illuminating the cosy terrace with a golden glow. ''Dr. Richter, I hope I am not troubling you this short notice, I just...'' Rosa stopped mid-sentence, noticing the delicious treats on the table next to Vyn's favourite tea pot.

He seated her on one of the lounge chairs, took the other one himself and smiled gently. ''No need to explain, I am happy you decided to spend your precious time with me, outside your busy work schedule.'' He poured her a cup of tea and presented her a plate filled with macaroons. ''You can always come to me to unwind.'' Rosa only nodded, grabbing a treat hesitantly. Vyn realised he had to make her feel comfortable and free her from her current issues before he could play his cards. 

''Have you been sleeping well, Rosa?'' He looked at her expectantly, knowing the effect his gentle golden eyes had on her. She stumbled over her words, gave up talking quickly after that, and settled on sighing, averting her eyes in the process. Vyn decided he would probe a little more, she was on the edge of blurting out her issues. ''Has Attorney Wing making you work overtime often?'' ''Yes, but...'' Almost there ''Has he been treating you poorly?'' Her eyes darted to his in shock, as if he read her mind. Is he now? He saw the pain in her eyes, and a glistening started to form in them.  

''Dear Rosa, my apologies; I do not mean to pry, but I wish for you to feel good and well rested.'' grabbing a tissue from his pocket, he carefully wrapped his hands around hers, squeezing gently, placing the tissue in hers. The one that makes my Rosa cry, will meet my wrath. He had to remain calm, she would speak of her issues first.

''I just...'' Rosa started in between shaky breaths. She took a big gulp of air. ''We were on a high-profile case, and the client accused us of leaking. Mister Wing knew I worked on cases at home a lot, so he questioned me, quite ruthless. I started second guessing myself and made mistakes because of it.'' her words were spoken at high speed, and only after finishing her explanation, she dared to take another breath. Vyn was getting agitated, hearing about the manner in which the senior attorney treated his junior. I will have Artem climb down from his high horse. He gave Rosa a few minutes to calm down, staying silent while tenderly wiping her tears.  

''I'm sorry Dr. Richter, I didn’t mean to...'' Vyn reached out and placed a finger on her lips. ''Do not apologize, dear Rosa.'' His words were like honey, and she felt like the starving bee, wanting more. He moved in closer. ''As one of your closest friends, I am here to help you lift the heavy burden from your shoulders. '' Her eyes were wide in astonishment, not knowing what to think of his sudden bold touch, but it felt... natural. His finger moved from her lips to her chin, urging her to look in his golden orbs.

''If you let me, that is.'' his voice was now only a whisper, and his smile send a shiver down her spine. She nodded again and took another breath. ''I feel much better already. Thank you, Dr. Richter.'' He smiled still, and kept holding her hand with his left. She started blushing, but didn’t avert her eyes. He knew it was now his turn to show vulnerability, to bare his soul.  

''Will you call me Vyn?'' His first request was simple, but establishing a deeper connection if she would agree. ''Uhm, sure? Vyn.'' Her eyes sparkled. He had to restrain himself from kissing her right then and there, he did not want to frighten her before he even confessed anything. He composed himself, kept his smile gentle.

''My dear Rosa, I do not wish for any misunderstandings between us. Please allow me to clearly state my deepest feelings. '' Before proceeding, he searched her eyes for any distress or discomfort. When he saw none, he continued, slowly. '' I am infatuated with you, my Rosa. Utterly and irrevocably in love. My world regained its colour after meeting you, and I wish for nothing more than to be by your side.'' He had to stop himself from rambling. It was not only out of character, but he needed to make his point, not confuse her.

He dropped his gaze to grab both her hands in his, heat radiating between them. He didn’t expect her to loosen one of hers, but felt it on his cheek seconds later. When he felt confident enough to look up again, he saw those big green emeralds shining back at him. ''Vyn...'' was all she could whisper before locking her lips with his, answering his feelings with her own.

~

 I might need to extinguish this fire! Lol

See you in the next drabble!

Love, Hann ❤

[vendettaparker]

What a Dumbass [P.P]

Summary: Peter’s mistake leads to you being injured. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Swearing, like a substantial amount, suggestive content kinda, gun shot wound, and flustered!Peter 

a/n: I really liked writing this. I couldn’t stop laughing at some of the dialogue. and the mistake peter made to cause the whole set-up of the story is so funny to me. like i can legit see him making this mistake. also, i’m gonna make a permanent tag list, so please send me an ask or message me if you want to be on it! <3

        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     Peter Benjamin Parker is a fucking dumbass. All the time mostly. Most of the time his dumbassery leads to a lot of annoyed avengers, a lot of clean up, and a lot of spilled secrets. Hence why like three people who definitely shouldn’t know he is Spider-man do. But every once in while his idiocy can lead to an unexpected happily ever after, at least until he fucks something up again. 

     This particular fuck up has yet to be determined as a happy accident or your new 13th reason. It all started when that spider bitch decided it’d be a good idea to watch some explicit content on his laptop. Now, this wasn’t particularly an unknown activity for him to partake in, since we all know about his little impromptu purchase in Germany, but unbeknownst to this dork, his aunt was in the next room over working on a tear in his suit. And to make matters worse, he accidentally just so happened to purchase a subscription using said aunt’s credit card that was pre-setup in his laptop. 

     Now May is a very understanding woman. Very sex-positive, very loving, and inclusive; the whole shebang really. So when she happened to catch this idiot doing what he most certainly shouldn’t have been doing, she wasn’t mad, just thoroughly disturbed. Then she got the notification about the purchase. That was a bit more taboo in her eyes. So Peter was grounded from patrolling for a week and his laptop privileges were revoked for two weeks. That was fucking merciful compared to what this whole fuck up put you through. 

     At the school that following Monday, Peter spent the whole first, second, fourth, and lunch period trying to convince you to take over patrol for a week. Sure, you could definitely handle it, not to pat yourself on the back or anything, but you were significantly stronger than Peter, so it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. But you just really didn’t want to. Peter had his ‘Peter Tingle’ to help him find danger, while you’d actually have to look. It just seemed harder for you to do than it would be for him. 

     “Why are you even grounded?” You sighed after Peter's 3rd time bringing up the possibility of you patrolling for him at lunch. 

     “He got caught watching and buying p—” Ned started laughing.

     “Ned! Shut up!” Peter yelled, slapping his hand over his friend's mouth. 

     “How has your identity not been leaked yet, Jesus Christ.” You mumbled, giggling. You flipped through your chemistry textbook, writing notes to prepare for Friday’s quiz. 

     “Yeah, and how come you didn’t know May was home?” Ned pushed Peter’s hand away. “Where was your ‘Peter Tingle’ then?” 

     “She’s not a threat, dude. But shit, I really wish my tingle detected her.” Peter groaned, a deep blush covering his features. “Please (Y/N). I really, really don’t wanna leave Queens without any protection for a week. I’ll try to convince May to let me go out on the weekend, so really it’s only five days.” 

     “I guess I could help you out, but you owe me. I should really spend this time studying for my chemistry test. Iron bitch is gonna have my head on a spike if I fail another chem test.” You said, highlighting more notes. 

     “Okay! Delmar’s for a week, anytime, anywhere.” Peter said putting his hand out for you to shake. 

     “Make it a month, I know my worth.” 

     Peter hesitated, but eventually gave in, “Fine, but you better do a good job.” 

        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     So now you were stuck patrolling from 8:30 to 11:00 every night. It wasn't bad per se, and nothing too eventful happened. You stopped a small convenience store robbery, gave a few kids some tips at the skatepark, ran some errands for an old lady, and saved a cat from a tree. Thursday night was the real kicker though. Your night had barely started and you accidentally got in the middle of a drug deal between some smaller mob and a real messed-up junkie. This should’ve been an easy takedown, only six people in total that needed to be taken out, but like was mentioned before, you don’t have Peter’s goddamn, stupid fucking tingle. So after taking all six of the perps out you started to walk away after alerting the police. Unfortunately, one of those assclowns had come to, and grabbed the gun a few feet away from him and shot it towards you. The bullet went through your thigh and out the other side. Screaming in shock and pain, you used your own throwing knives and knocked the gun out of the mobster’s hand, then you proceeded to knock him out again with a few good punches to his noggin, maybe a few more, just for good measure. But this wound would need to be cleaned and stitched up. And if you went back to the Tower, Steve and Tony would give you an earful about “watching your surroundings” and “being more careful”. So in a moment of pure adrenaline and desperation, you texted Peter. 

You: are you home

Spider-Dork: Yeah, why?

You: i’ll be there in 5 

Spider-Dork: What? Why? Is everything ok?

Spider-Dork: Hello??? (Y/N)????

(Y/N) declined (3) calls 

Spider-Dork: Answer my calls idiot. 

     Peter’s texting and constant calling was cut short from a crash in his room. 

     “(Y/N)? Is that you?” Peter called from the couch in the living room. 

     “Yeah, can I borrow a t-shirt?” You called, fumbling around accidentally knocking over another lamp. “Oops, sorry!”

     “Uh, yeah sure. In the closet!” Peter called back pausing his show, prepared to make his way over to you. 

     “And some sweats?” You called back, blood dripping all over Peter’s hardwood floor. 

     Peter got up to make his way to his room. “Yeah, second drawer on the left side.” He said as he made his way to his bedroom. Knowing you were in there, most likely changing, he knocked. “You decent?” 

     “Nope, not really. I need a pair of your boxers too, though.” You called through the door, now seeing that the blood splattered on your underwear as well. “Also, bring the first aid kit when you come in.” 

     ‘What? Why?” Peter said in a more stressed tone, pushing his way into the room, completely ignoring the fact that you were very much not decent. “Holy shit.” He said seeing you out of your suit, in your bra and underwear, blood dripping down your right leg, pooling onto the floor. Your hand, red and bloody, pressed onto what he only assumed was the wound and blood seeping through your fingers. 

     “Bring a mop too.” 

     Peter ran out of the room to grab the first aid kit, plus some extra bandages and a cleaning solution. When he came back in he found you in the same state, standing in the middle of the room, eyebrows furrowed in pain, clutching your right thigh. 

     “What the hell happened?” He gasped, motioning for you to sit on his bed. You hesitated, not wanting to mess up his sheets. He seemed to notice your thought process quickly adding, “I have to wash my sheets anyway.” 

     “Gross.” You mumbled, scrunching up your face in disgust and finally settling down on his bed. 

     “Move your hand and tell me what happened,” Peter said kneeling on the floor next to the bed, positioned right at your hips. You removed your hand, bloody instantly seeping onto the bed. Peter winced looking at the hole in your leg, quickly grabbing the peroxide and dumping heaps of it onto your leg, much to your distaste. 

     “I got shot.” You stated as he cleaned the blood around the hole with alcohol pads.

     “Well, no shit. I mean by who and how?” 

     “Mobster. Sneaky bitch got me while I was walking away.” You winced as Peter inspected the wound further. 

     “I need to stitch this up. Did it go all the way through?” He said lifting your leg to look underneath for an exit wound. 

     “Yeah.” Peter found the exit wound and held your leg up with one hand, pouring peroxide on the back of your thigh with the other. 

     “You have to be more careful, (Y/N)! This looks really nasty.” Peter scolded, setting your leg back down and prepping the needle and sutures. “What if this was in your chest? Or—or if you didn’t get here in time? You could’ve bled out!” 

     “Well sorry that I don’t have your stupid tingle to help me out when I’m being fucking shot at!” You yelped, gripping the bedsheets. 

     “You don’t need spidey sense, you need fucking common sense,” Peter mumbled, stitching his first suture.

     “What the fuck did you just say?” You looked at him incredulously. 

     “I— uh, nothing.” Peter huffed, focusing back on stitching you up.

     “This is your all your fault, to begin with!” You accused, shifting uncomfortably, due to the needle constantly being stuck into your leg. “You’re the one that begged me to go on patrol for you! You’re the dumb bitch that got caught watc—” 

     “Ok! Shut up! For God’s sake, you’re never gonna let me live that down.” Peter groaned, finishing up the last stitch. “Flip over.” He commanded, pushing at the side of your waist to help with the movement. 

     “Well, it was fucking dumb. Don’t you check to make sure nobody’s home? God, we all know you’re a vocal bitch too.” You said, fully situated on your stomach. 

     “What the fuck is that suppose to mean!?” He gasped, prepping another needle. 

     “You’re a sensitive boy.” You shrugged, wincing when Peter started his next stitch. 

     “I-I am not sensitive! I’m emotionally and physically staunch!” He defended, going in for another stitch. 

     You just raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Sure, whatever you say, babe.” You winked at him, blowing an exaggerated kiss. 

     “You're a jerk,” Peter mumbled, finishing up his stitching job. “A jerk with a fucked up leg.” 

     You hummed, quite amused. Peter got up and started to collect his medical supplies. He shuffled out of the room to put everything away. When he returned you were trying to get up and walk, wincing at every slight movement. 

     “Here, let me just—” Peter lifted you up, bridal style. A small yelp coming from you when a sharp pain shot through your leg. “Sorry.”

     “It’s fine. Can you help me get dressed?” You said as he walked you over to his desk and set you down in his desk chair. 

     “Sure.” Peter blushed, painfully aware of your lack of clothes. He picked out some clothes from his closet and drawers. He helped you into them, wallowing in the uncomfortable silence, taking in each whimper and wince from you whenever he brushed against your thigh. 

     “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He sighed after you were all dressed. “This is my fault.” 

     You looked at his distraught face, feeling bad for initially blaming him for the events of tonight. “No, Pete. It’s fine. I should’ve made sure all of the guys were knocked out.” You put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

     “No, I should’ve been more careful when I was watching that stuff. I have my spidey sense, I would’ve been able to avoid getting shot. It’s not your fault that you didn’t get bit by a radioactive spider.”

     “Pete, really, I’ll be better by next week anyway. It’s fine.” 

     Peter shook his head, sighing. “I just feel so bad, I shouldn’t have forced patrolling on you.” You hugged him and rubbed his back soothingly. “It’s my fault you got hurt.” 

     “Peter stop. It’s just an unfortunate accident.” You mumbled, hugging him closer. “It could’ve happened to anyone.”

     “But it didn’t happen to just anyone (Y/N), it happened to you. And I caused it. I-I don't know what I’d do if something ever happened to you. What if it was worse?”

     You sighed, pulling away from Peter and cupping his face, seeing the regret and shame pooling in his eyes. Without much thought, you pulled him closer, slowly connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. Truly getting lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the feeling of perfection. 

     Peter’s eyes widened in shock for a moment, before he was kissing you back, reveling in the feeling he’s been dreaming about for months. You finally pulled away to catch your breath. Peter flushed at your actions, unable to stop the wide smile crossing his features. 

     “Sorry,” You mumbled sheepishly, “just needed to shut you up for a second.”

     “Maybe I should talk more, just to see what happens,” Peter smirked, pulling you in for another shorter, but just as sweet, kiss. 

     You hummed against his lips. “I really like you. Even when you're a dumbass.” You sighed against his lips.

     “The feeling is mutual.” 

     “Rude. I’m not a dumbass.” You gasped in faux offense. 

     “You’re the one with a bullet wound.” he deadpanned 

     “You’re the one who got caught watchin—”

     “(Y/N)!”

[elysianslove]

PT 3 OF SUNA'S VIRGIN BOYFRIEND

been putting this one off cause i never get male!reader asks and this is one of my favorite “series” i’ve written but ,,, here it finally is 😁☝🏼 writing this in third person was,,, so difficult because the only way i could refer to suna’s bf is “boyfriend” “lover” and using pronouns but i didn’t wanna write second person cause it didn’t have that ,,, flare. anyways imma shut up i hope you all enjoy this!! <3 

warnings; virginity loss, anal fingering, anal sex, it’s pretty vanilla actually lol 

to be completely fair, suna should have expected it. after months of fooling around and teetering on the edge, never fully crossing that boundary but getting awfully close to, suna should have seen it coming. but just like every other time, he’s caught off guard, eyes widening and mouth parting slightly, his breath caught in his lungs. 

it’s in the middle of a very heated make out session that he asks him. he’s seated on suna’s lap, thighs spread and knees planted on the bed beneath them. his mouth presses harshly against suna’s, hands locked and tangled in his hair, twisting and pulling. suna’s breath-taken over just how much more confident the boy on his lap seems, how initiative falls more often in his hands, how tentativeness and carefulness gets thrown to the side so easily now, and he’s reminded again that he should have expected it. 

but he really, really couldn’t have anticipated the breathless way his boyfriend had gasped out, after leaning back to stare down at suna through careful eyes, “can we have sex?” 

suna’s brows furrow, and his hands squeeze at his lover’s waist. “i mean— sure?” he says, confusion laced in his voice. “you never really— ask?” his boyfriend sighs slightly, slumping his hold. in response, suna shifts, spreading his legs wider to sit up straighter, eyes locked on his. 

“no,” he sighs, and suna’s frown deepens. the hands in his hair fall, coming to rest lightly on his shoulders, and it’s then he realizes that his boyfriend’s shaking. it’s barely noticeable, but suna’s able to tell, especially with the way his eyes seem to try to, at all costs, avoid his. “i mean sex sex. i—” his hands squeeze at suna’s shoulders, and he swallows thickly, before finally steeling himself, building up the courage to look directly at suna as he confesses, “i want you to fuck me.” 

suna honest to god feels all the blood leave his head and go straight to his dick. 

his hands on his waist tighten, gripping rougher, more in a way to ground himself than anything, before suna mutters out, “you want me— inside of you?” he’s asking as if to make sure he heard him right, as if to properly process what he’d just heard. his boyfriend nods in confirmation, and suna finally breathes. “are you—”

“i’m sure,” he interrupts, all too quickly, enough to elicit a sheepish, teasing smile on suna’s lips. “please just— i trust no one but you. i trust no one more than you, and there’s nobody i can imagine doing this with.” 

“you’ve thought about this?” suna asks, and his boyfriend rolls his eyes, ease crawling back onto his skin, nervous energy dissipating. 

“of course i’ve thought about this, rin,” he replies, and he figures it’s the end of that, no more prodding and prying, but he’s on back before he can blink, suna hovering above him, much closer than he ever was. his hands are on either side of him, the muscles on his arms bulging as he keeps himself up, an unfamiliar glint in his eyes. 

“tell me,” he says, and the boy beneath him shivers. “tell me what you think about.” his tongue ties, and he stammers, while suna’s fingers find their way to the hem of his shirt, tickling the tiny strip of skin revealed, daring to inch upwards. “come on; tell me.” 

the moment suna’s hand finally presses flat against his stomach right beneath his shirt, he sighs, eyes fluttering shut as his lover above him leans over to press a kiss to his jaw. “i think about you, and— your hands.” 

suna hums, his mouth littering wet kisses down to his neck. “hmm, my hands?” 

his boyfriend nods, dizzyingly quick, and continues, “your fingers too.” suna hums again, in encouragement, his hand trailing further up and his mouth trailing down lower. “so long and thick— want you to— to fuck me with them. want them deep inside me. stretching me open for— ugh—” swallowing a low fuck, suna instead grins as he sucks hotly where his boyfriend had been so responsive. “—for you.” 

it’s all he needs, and a second later, suna’s sitting up, his hand leaving the warmth of his boyfriend’s tummy as he leans back, reaching for the back of the neck of his shirt, gripping and lifting it over his head. at the first sight of skin, his boyfriend inhales sharply, and it’s almost like the very first time they’d even dared to be close to one another. it’s not the first he’s seen of suna, and it definitely won’t be the last— at least suna hopes — but there’s something about tonight that makes this a thousand times more intimate. maybe it’s the knowledge of what it will all lead to, or the fact that this is what his lover wants it to lead to, that’s making everything as overwhelming as it is, especially for suna. 

urgently, his boyfriend strips himself of his own shirt, mirroring suna as they both slip out of their trousers and, timidly, following suit after suna removes his briefs. they’re both barely hard yet, but suna can feel the lust and want thrumming loudly in his veins. 

“baby,” suna sighs, falling forward to lean over his lover again. his boyfriend hums, nodding slowly as suna’s palm trails up to cup his cheek endearingly, a thumb brushing lightly at the skin. “are you sure you want to do this?” 

“rin—“ he starts to whine, but suna’s quick to cut him off. 

“no, i’m serious. this isn’t something you can decide in the heat of the moment,” he warns, his eyes sharp yet as soft as ever, trying his best to convey what he means to say. “i don’t want you to end up regretting it later, that you could’ve waited longer— and i don’t mind waiting. i don’t mind waiting forever for you.” 

his boyfriend sighs, a small smile painting his lips as his hand wraps around suna’s wrist, the same wrist attached to the hand cupping his face. “i’ve never been more sure about anything,” he promises, adding, “and i was serious when i said i’ve thought about this before. none of those other times felt right, but now... i’m ready, i promise.” 

suna decides he’s never been good with words, and kisses him instead. his lips meet his halfway as his lover lifts up to meet him, and it’s the most sensual kiss they’ve shared. it’s a million times more electric, a thousand times more passionate, and it’s as if everything they’ve ever felt and are feeling for one another is being poured into this one kiss. suna kisses him soft and slow, taking his time, because for once, they’re in no rush. for once, it really does feel like the world is stopping for them, almost as if in respect. he thanks the universe and kisses him harder. 

there’s blind fumbling in the drawers as suna reaches over, unprepared to break the kiss in any way while he searches for what he needs. unsurprisingly, he can’t find shit without his eyes, and breaks the kiss with an annoyed huff and groan. 

his boyfriend laughs lightly at him, to suna’s dismay, as he grabs at the necessary items, tossing onto the bed a bottle of lube and a condom. when he uncaps the bottle, suna starts, “just so you know,” he squeezes a generous amount onto his fingers, “you can back out any time you want.” he leans back, further away from his boyfriend, and presses his hand to his thigh, pushing at his legs to spread them. “i mean, any time.” 

the nod suna receives is strained, and his boyfriend’s thighs tense, his half hard cock lightly twitching as suna’s hand trails lower. 

“this is okay?” 

he nods again. 

“i need to hear you, baby.” to reinforce his statement, suna’s hand freezes where it is, awfully close to his boyfriend’s dick. 

his boyfriend nods again, mewling out a small, “yes, please, touch me,” that finally urges suna’s lube covered hand to press right where he needs him to, his other hand gripping at his inner thigh and keeping his legs open wide. 

testing the waters, suna’s fingers lightly circle his hole, massaging gently to cop a feel of how his boyfriend would recreate. when he sees the way his breath hitches, the way his hips twitch lightly and threaten to raise, he finally, finally, presses his pointer finger inside, taking it as slow as ever. the wet lube eases the slide, his boyfriend’s hole sucking him in hotly. suna leans heavier on the hand on his boyfriend’s thigh, trying his best to steel himself and not take him right then and there. 

god he could already feel his dick hardening. 

he starts to lightly finger him, not yet curling his finger or anything of the sort, simply trying to stretch him a little and get him used to the feel. “you’ll tell me if i need to stop?” suna asks, and he feels him clench down around him. 

“don’t stop, please,” his boyfriend begs. in response, suna simply chuckles. 

he spends a generous amount of minutes stretching him, adding a second finger to loosen him up more, squeezing out more lube when necessary, curling his fingers to heighten the experience. so far, his personal self control is impressing him, especially with how cute his boyfriend looks beneath him, cock hard and leaking, thighs and muscles twitching, mouth parted a little dumbly. he couldn’t wait to sink into him. 

although it feels like hours are passing, suna doesn’t slack off. he presses a third finger into his boyfriend’s hole and watches his wide, blown eyes as he arches deeply, head tossed back and hips pressing into the mattress, as if to urge suna’s fingers deeper inside of him. 

suna can really never get enough of his reactions. 

“rin, rin please,” he whines, hands grasping tightly at the pillow his head lays on. he thrashes beneath suna as suna curls his fingers again, pressing tightly against his prostrate, his other hand squeezing at his tense balls. “rin, i beg you, give me your cock, please.” 

“never deemed you a desperate guy, my love,” he teases, but his own cheeks are flushed and he’s sweating a little, his cock fully hard and brushing against his stomach with every harsh movement of his arm as he fucks his fingers faster into him. 

“rintarō,” his boyfriend gasps. “wanna cum with you inside of me.” 

unsurprisingly, suna’s sold. 

he twists and scissors his fingers for good measure, trying to ensure that his boyfriend’s properly stretched out, but in his lust induced haze, he can only pray he is. he’s quick to grab at his own dick, fisting and squeezing at it tightly, while his boyfriend manages to sit up, reaching for the discarded condom and unwrapping it. 

“put it on me?” suna offers, leaning back and taking his hand off his dick, despite how much it hurt to. 

his boyfriend’s trembling frame attempts to sit up straighter, and his eyes meet suna’s. “okay,” he stutters out, leaning closer and lower. his hands shake as he presses the condom against the tip of suna’s cock, before slowly sliding it down, all along his shaft. soon as it’s on, he breathes out, a little shakily. 

of course, suna notices, as he always does, and urges him to look up with a gentle nudge at his chin. “everything okay?” he softly asks. 

suna’s never been good with words, he repeats to himself, but he knows his eyes have always been a dead giveaway, if only one were to properly look. and he can trust his boyfriend to look. proving suna right, as soon as he reads through him, his boyfriend smiles, and grabs at suna’s forearms. 

“everything’s perfect,” he replies, and falls back onto the bed, taking suna with him. 

throughout the length of their relationship, suna’s taken many of his boyfriend’s firsts. he’s watched him become who he is today, watched him grow in confidence, especially sexually, and every single time had been more satisfying than the one before. this, however, is unlike anything else. this feels a thousand times more satisfying than anything he had ever, ever done with him. the amount of trust he’s placing onto suna, the amount of want and desire and need that’s within him to let him kiss all over his body and to let him sink fully inside of him, to take away something as special and as important as his virginity. 

suna can’t fathom, can’t comprehend, the fact that someone trusts him this much. and that that someone isn’t just anybody. 

“fuck,” he breathes out, finally bottomed out. his hips press against his boyfriend’s, his hands fisting the pillow beneath him. “fuck, you feel so good,” he praises, and in response, his boyfriend moans and sighs delightfully. 

“you— you feel so good too,” he admits, hands fumbling. “feel so full with you— with you inside of me.” 

“yeah?” suna encourages. 

“mhhmm.” he nods, brows furrowed deeply.

and when suna grinds his hips, somehow pushing himself even deeper, the boy beneath him cries out, back arching, just the way he wanted him to. he rolls his hips again, leaning closer and closer until their chests are pressed flush against one another, until he can feel his boyfriend’s cock, painfully hard, twitching between them, before he presses his lips against his.  

against his mouth, his boyfriend gasps, breathing him in. his legs lift to wrap around suna’s waist as his hole stretches and twitches to accommodate suna’s cock. “rin,” he starts, but he doesn’t know what he’s leading to. suna’s name is the only thing that feels right to say. 

suna doesn’t believe in fate, neither does he believe in coincidence. but maybe, maybe, just this once, he’ll believe in the universe, for it’s decision to find him this boy is one he’s forever grateful for.  

“i love you,” suna finally says, and doesn’t give him a chance to respond before he’s pulling out, and pressing back in suddenly, leaving all but a gasp on his lover’s lips. 

EXTRA SCENE: 

“you loveeee me?” 

their bodies are a mess of sweat and cum, evidence of the multiple rounds of love-making— much to suna’s chagrin, that really was love-making, so really, maybe suna was a virgin too in a sense—

“shut up.” 

his boyfriend laughs, gleefully, and suna genuinely can’t hide the smile it paints on his lips. “yeah but why did you admit it mid sex, rin? like some coming of age movie?” 

suna rolls his eyes, still smiling unfortunately, and shifts on the bed, rolling over onto to his side to have his back facing his boyfriend instead. unsurprisingly, sticky arms make their way around him, and a wet pair of lips press against the back of his neck as legs tangle with his. against all odds, he sighs, relaxing and leaning into the touch behind him. 

his boyfriend kisses his shoulder, and then mutters right by his ear, “i love you too, by the way. if you hadn’t already figured,” and suna’s heart jumps right into his throat. 

this was so longggg but i really really hope you guys like it, because it took me an embarrassingly long time <//3 and also because i’m proud of it. and also because i just wanna make you guys happy :) anyways luv u all hope you have amazing days ahead of you mwah <3 

[lady-z-writes]

I was asked to write a sequel for this Heisenberg x Reader where Reader is an American visiting the village and her crop tops and booty shorts have caught the eye of Heisy. She's very intrigued by the village and has asked Heisy to let her stay with him instead of the little inn...

Purely smutty part 2 ahead:

The walk up to the factory proves to be cold for you in your little outfit. He sees the chill bumps on your skin. Yes, he's looking. Yes, you notice the side-glances from behind his glasses.

He hadn't really offered to take your bag when you checked out of the inn but you sort of tossed it at him so he begrudgingly shoulders it on the hike.

He's...intrigued by you. Your spunk, your audacity. It's off-putting yet he kinda likes it.

"You live in a factory?" your eyebrows raise as you cross the bridge.

He's puffing on a cigar, the smoke wafting behind him as the wind picks up.

"What'd you expect?"

You give him a once-over and he'd be lying if he said it didn't thrill him to have your eyes on him. "Good point."

The urge to push you against the wall and pin you there is strong. Entering his domain, he feels a sense of control returning and he's making an effort to behave himself.

A loud thud makes you jump, drawing closer to him. He can feel your body heat, almost reaches up to grip your hair and pull you nearer.

His hand falters to your side, a gentle touch - just one - but you notice.

He wishes he had his gloves off, wants so badly to feel how soft your skin is, to touch those chill bumps, bruise you and watch you squirm beneath him.

You draw closer despite his stillness. It's like you can read his expression, can see the gears turning as he thinks the most impure thoughts.

And then you do the most curious thing.

You touch him.

A simple touch - your right hand on his forearm - but he feels it, thanks the heavens that he'd left his jacket off and rolled his sleeves up.

His mouth is dry, suddenly doesn't have any witty retort. He meets eyes with you, letting out a deep exhale that teeters on a growl around the edges.

And you break the silence:

"Do you have any whiskey?"

Wonders never cease.

You're a good time, he decides as you're halfway through your drink. You've wandered around a bit and inspected his makeshift office.

He'd taken you a specific route to get there, doesn't want to turn you off with his metal army before this can go wherever it's going.

"And you're here by yourself?"

He raises an eyebrow at that. "...yes?"

It's been silent since you thanked him as he poured whiskey, which is odd. He thinks you must have been deep in thought and is intrigued that this is what you come back with.

"That's surprising to me," you set your drink down, walk over to him. He clears his throat, trying to look at your face and not your tits.

"Is it?" This is the most he's spoken to you, he realizes.

You don't owe him this compliment. You don't owe him anything and he's finding it challenging to grasp this. Why would you, a tourist, come to his residence and compliment him?

He's fighting off those negative thoughts, trying to tell himself that not everything is manipulation; but his experiences have routed his brain to fire at defensiveness as an instinct.

He doesn't have much more time to process this before your lips are pressing against his.

To his surprise, he kisses you back.

It's instant, your reaction once he's leaned into you: you pull him closer, let your hands trail down his shoulders. The chill this touch sends through him...

Then suddenly it's like you're reawakened, remembering yourself:

"I'm sorry - I'm so sorry if this is too much," you suddenly break away from the kiss, just the slightest bit but he's pulling you closer, almost bruising in his next move.

You've made a mistake, he's sure, and in the next two minutes he'll let you walk out of the factory unharmed - mostly because he's still a little shell-shocked this is happening - but after that? Two more minutes and you're his.

The kissing continues, intensifies. You force his gloves off and you let him touch you; his fingers on your flesh, tracing down your exposed stomach in that shirt. You're warm, real, and it's making him lose control bit by bit.

"What do you want?" he manages in a growl when he has you pressed against his desk.

His eyes are closed behind those glasses and you see the tension in his jaw.

"K-Karl," you hum, slightly out of breath from the intensity of the moment. "I want you, isn't it obvious?"

It's enough.

It's everything.

He's letting you kiss him and undress him and - God - it's been too long since he's been wanted. He's losing himself, can feel the guarded demeanor just melt away with every caress, every sigh.

Your hands travel between his legs and Heisenberg groans at the stiffness of his cock. He's so hard for you, it's flattering.

Before he knows it he's let you strip him of his shirts, unbuckle his belt. His bare hands stroke over your soft clothes before he pulls those off too.

Staring at your tits, he dips down to pop your left nipple in his mouth, fingers playing with your right one. There's no hesitation, no asking for permission, no denying the pleasure you both seem to crave from each other.

His cock is leaking by the time you pull him from his pants. The relief from your touch doesn't last long and he can tell you're eager to blow him but he can't wait any longer.

Pulling your panties off, he lets his fingers fumble over your clit before jutting a finger inside you. Greed consumes him as he works you toward your first orgasm; muscles clenching around him, warm wetness reigniting a long-buried desire in him.

When he's satisfied, he pulls from you, coats his cock in your wetness, then lines himself up with your eager pussy.

"A bed?" you gasp at him.

He shakes his head. "No. Now."

"Karl," you gasp, trying to press against him.

He almost uses his powers and then he remembers he's faking good - playing a role - not ready to steer you away, especially not now.

"Quit being a cocktease," he mumbles.

You raise a brow at him. "So he has a spine? Fascinating."

Oh, you wouldn't believe the half of it.

"You gonna spread those pretty legs or am I gonna have to get creative?"

You don't reply, but your body shifts closer to the edge of the desk he's seated you on and you shove your hips against him in a slow thrust.

His grip is bruising when he spreads your legs for you. He's learning how much of a brat you are and...he kinda likes it - the fight in you, the fire.

You're gripping at his neck when he slides into you and he just about busts at the moment. Fuck, it's like you're exposing all of his needs right in the moment. He feels exposed yet oddly safe.

You're so wet for him and he, of course, has to mention it several times; is proud of it, impressed. It gets better when he keeps constant pressure on your clit, pressing a thumb against it and rubbing deep, slow circles.

You cum. You cum on his cock and he chokes on air at the muscles tightening around him, the way you squeeze him as you're panting out his name and knotting your fingers in his hair.

"So good, fuck, so good," you gasp.

The mouth on you...

You're unlike anything he's ever seen. To have you fucked so good on his desk, it almost feels like a dream.

Before you get too comfortable, he pulls back, slips out of you, forces you to your feet. Shaky legs steady you and he spins you around and shoves your face against the desk. He's probably bruised your cheek from the pressure, but you don't seem to mind.

Easily, his cock finds your pussy and he glides right back in. Eyes closed, he throws his head back as he slowly starts a steady pace in you.

Glory. What glory.

And when you say, "damn it, oh fuck, Karl...gonna make me cum again," he feels his cock twitch inside of you, knows that he's too far gone.

"Mmm, quickly, kitten," is all he can get out before you're rutting back against him.

He lasts longer than he expects, really, given the circumstances.

You almost don't get off again before he's pulling back from you to spill all down your lower back.

The moment you feel him shifting, you throw your weight back against him.

"No, in me. Karl, please...I'm...it's safe,"

He doesn't really comprehend all that - not after hearing you tell him to cum inside of you.

It's too late, he's officially too far gone to hold back anymore and he cries out as a powerful orgasm overwhelms him.

You're cumming too, based on the noises you're making and the way you're slamming yourself back against him in desperate fervor. It just adds to his rutting into you; so powerful, fingers digging into the flesh on your hips.

"Fuck, take it," he pants, enjoying the moment. "Such a fuckin' cocktease strutting around town like that," he's rambling at this moment, sounding like an old drunk as he comes down from his release, letting you ride yours out. "Been thinking about this all day - this pretty sight - fucked so good..."

You're practically flat against the desk now, ass on display for him as he slowly slides his half-hard cock out of you.

The room is filled with a humidity he hadn't felt before; with a silence now that the ringing in his ears is done.

You're looking over your shoulder at him, hair a mess, some of his cum dripping out of you.

What a beautiful sight. Picture perfect, really.

"Holy fuck, Karl..." you gasp with a laugh.

He lights a cigar, stands there perfectly naked, just looking at you. You feel like an art exhibit.

"You mentioned a bed," he raises a brow at you. "And I'm not finished with you yet, kitten."

You accept the invitation without blinking.

[nevertheless-moving]

Not 400 game, but another song(s) for the Obi Wan popstar au

- Mumford & Sons: Broken Crown

- RAIGN: Don't Let Me Go, Knocking on Heaven's Door

- Kesha: Praying

- Ursine Vulpine: Wicked Game

(I had Broken Crown in mind, and then I was looking at my playlist and getting Feels)

Once Obi-Wan really gets into songwriting he just starts absolutely pouring out everything he’s seen/felt/heard and summarily repressed in his whole 2 (two) lives. Which is...a lot. The real angsty stuff gets buried in a datafolder (we’ll come back to that later). The less personal/more vague stuff is what he brings to song writing sessions with teenage Anakin to get turned into Queens Greatest Hits in Space/ Space Elton John Bangers. This, plus various shenanigans in which BK sells the fuck out, fund his early anti-Sidious stuff.

Later people realize that all those advertisement jingles were for sustainable companies with good workplace benefits—nothing associated with the trade federation. ALSO, someone in the Hutt Empire hacked the Former Slave Refugee Resettlement Program servers to figure out where they’re getting their money from. Turns out that having the Hutt Clans explicitly ban one artist’s music has the opposite effect of what was initially intended. Remember when those Keanu Reeves posts were going around and everyone was like ‘wait the guy from Bill and Tedd and the Matrix has just been anonymously donating ALL of his money? like ALL of it?’ 

Yeah a few ill-gotten financial records leak, tracing funding back to one random accountant’s office, whose only high income client is from a random agent’s office, and THEIR only high income client is—you guessed it— THE MAN—THE MYTH—THE LEGEND—BK. Someone does a bunch of math. A little over 8 years into his second life, BK skyrockets from ‘talented money-grabbing artist with weird cult following, most famous for trashy viral hit 8 years ago’, to pHiLaNtHrOpIsT TOO GOOD FOR THIS GALAXY—donates AT LEAST 50% of his proceeds to ONE CHARITY—wait what’s that—ANOTHER 5% is accounted for by this ANTI-CORRUPTION WATCHDOG ORGANIZATION??AGENT SAYS THAT BK HAS A DAY JOB?? also his music is AWESOME and NOT CRINGE! THIS GUY!! WHO EVEN!

*clears throat*

Anyway, BK is really popular. Then Palpatine is defeated in epic duel and now Obi-Wan Kenobi is also famous as ‘savior of the galaxy.’ Ben is just kind-of sweating because he didn’t really want to get revealed before, and now he really, really doesn’t, because it would be such a hassle.

But there are a lot of clones in need of resettlement, and slavery still exists, and the Separatist movement is still happening but needs to be facilitated peacefully, and the big duel with Sidious did a lot of property damage—

money can’t fix everything. but. it can fix a lot of things.

So Knight Kenobi (no do NOT make me a Master for defeating a Sith Consparicy, I would like ONE life event NOT marked by the Sith) and Senior Padawan Skywalker (no you are NOT knighting him. Yes, of course, he’s brilliant and powerful and has brought balance to the force but he is NINETEEN-YEARS OLD I am KEEPING him fuck OFF) sit down in secret and Obi-Wan revisits his angst folder, now that Anakin’s older.

Anakin: “Um, Master? Do you want to...talk about any of this stuff?”

Obi-Wan: “Not really. I wrote a lot of this when I was younger, you know?”

Anakin: “...okay...that...yeah okay, I get that, let’s make an angst album, sure.”

(Obi-Wan is fine! the Sith are defeated, the Jedi live, everything he’s worked obsessively for his whole second life is done! He’s Great! He’s not finally resting enough that his mind is beginning to process trauma from his first go-around! He’s Wonderful!) 

Obi-Wan (internally): maybe this will make my ‘fans’ less obsessed with me? If I show them I’m deeply flawed, in pain, and in need of serious emotional help?

(Gold, Imagine Dragons), (Broken Crown, Mumford and Sons), (Fix You, Coldplay), (Hurt, Nine Inch Nails)

Authors Note: It does not have this affect.

[runawaymun]

7, 8, 26, and 37?

fanfic writer ask meme

7. What story/headcanons do you feel the proudest of?

Honestly my favorites involve my specific rendition of Eldritch Peredhil and the line of Melian and how that manifests for Elrond, specifically; how Vilya works; how Music works; and how those three things interact with each other. 

With Vilya and Music, I wanted to make sure that there were limits. Is music insanely OP? yeah. Is Vilya insanely OP? Yeah! My dude can (almost) bring people back from the dead. But the limit comes at the cost of doing so. When he’s healing he’s experiencing and/or taking all of that pain for himself. Like in this one scene where he’s pushing a crossbow bolt out of Elrohir’s shoulder: Elrohir is asleep. He can’t feel it. Elrond is hanging onto him, using Vilya to keep him away from death, and therefore he can feel it when he removes the bolt from Elrohir’s shoulder just like he’s removing it from his own. There’s a reason he passes out at the end of that chapter. 

And just...yeah the way he gets taller and taller and taller and starts to leak starlight. How his eyes turn into mini night-skies. How he goes white-hot-crispy and smoke pours from his boots and he looks more and more like Melian when he interacts with Music or uses Vilya. 

And also my headcannon that Imladris has a Girdle. It isn’t just Vilya. It’s the interaction between Vilya and the line of Melian that protects the valley. 

8. Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi chaptered stories?

I don’t have a preference, actually! I just play it by ear and see what each story needs. Some are multi-chapters. Some are one-shots. I do love multi-chapters purely for the excuse of long-term character development and it gives me more time to hang out with the characters. But one-shots are nice when I want to explore something but don’t want to commit to updating frequently. 

26. Are titles for your stories easy to come up with?

For some reason, chapter titles are easy for me. Fic titles are difficult. It’s rare for me to land on something I’m truly happy with. 

37. Would you ever collaborate with another writer for a story?

YES.

I love collaboration!! Two heads are better than one!! Multiple perspectives!!! And then I get to learn things from others and their writing processes and hopefully they get to learn something from me. Most of my best friends are writers and we all have fairly symbiotic relationships between each other and our respective work. 

So, you know, if anyone wants to collaborate this is an open invite.