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#[writer’s needs: fanfic]
just-french-me-up · 7 months
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the urge to write is like a cat meowing for dear life for someone to open the goddamn door, who then shows utter disinterest in said open door
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bababaka · 8 months
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Yall need to interact with fanfiction author's more.
So. After the ddos attack on ao3.
I was encouraged to write more comments and make my love known to fanfic writers.
I dont really like commenting. Because im a bit shy and soooo lazy.
Now though. I am writing more comments. And dude. This is so heartwarming. Ya'll need to treat writers better. They are doing the lord's work.
Take for an example, couple of days prior, i was searching for something interesting to read, and found an oneshot quite compelling.
I read it. At the end of it, i was blown away by how good it was. It promised me something and it went beyond my expectations. But then i saw a crime, zero fucking comments!
At that moment, i wasn't feeling up to writing a comment. Because, normally i like to write huge paragraphs. But because im lazy i decided to be brief.
Next day, the author answered that the comment lift their mood for the whole day.
That warmed my heart.
Duuuuuuuude! Write comments! Suport the writers of the fics you like! No need to be something super elaborate. Just give your thoughts. Freak out. Ramble. Ask something. Make theories. Compliment. Make a joke about how you wished to give kudos every chapter but ao3 sucks(not true bby) and won't let you.
Truly. Just. Comment. It can make someone's day. And that is part of the apeal of writing fics. Interacting with people.
Just give love to fanfic writers yall. They deserve this and so much more.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
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unexpected consequences
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words: 700
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, p in v sex, condoms breaking, pregnancy/breeding talk, unprotected p in v sex, established relationship, mention of marriage
“oh fuck, yeah.” you moan out, fingers gripping rafes shoulders. “right-right there.”
your moans are extra loud today, having been apart from rafe for nearly a week after he had business out of the country. rafe is just as pent up as you, thrusting harshly into your cunt to the chorus of his grunts.
“close.” rafe warns, but you could tell anyways by the swelling of his cock that he wouldn’t last long.
“oh my god, yes.” you moan out, back arching off the bed as your release pushes through your body, cumming with a final shout of your boyfriends name.
rafe drops his head into your neck as he cums inside of you, pushing as deeply as he can as your cunt pulses around him. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and press soft kisses to his head while rafe pants through his orgasm, until you shift slightly and feel it inside of you.
“rafe, pull out.” you shove at his shoulder, causing him to look up in concern, but he slips his softening cock out.
“what is it baby?” rafe asks. you look down at the condom he always wears, where theres always a bit of white cum gathered at the tip, but this time it looks practically empty, like he just rolled it on.
“rafe.” you hit his shoulder, causing him to flinch and look down.
“wha-” rafe suddenly realizes the issue, rolling himself off the bed as he walks into the bathroom, no doubt to inspect the condom and tell you what you already know is true.
“it broke.” rafe says when he comes out a moment later.
“i know.” you admit, shifting your hips from side to side again. “i can tell.”
“im so sorry baby.” rafe says with a sigh, laying on the bed next to you but not pulling you into his arms, not sure if you want to be touched.
“its okay.” you hum softly, mind still reeling. “you didn’t know.”
“what are we gonna do?” rafe asks, knowing you’re not on birth control due to affecting other medication you’re on.
“well, i can take a plan b in the morning…” you say quietly. 
“or.” rafe encourages you to continue, able to tell that you aren’t finished.
“or we could wait and see. i mean i probably won’t get pregnant just from one time, right?” you shrug.
“what about if it does take? and you’re pregnant?” rafe asks, looking at your tummy.
as if you’re thinking the same thing, you lay your hand over your stomach, knowing that even if you are pregnant there is nothing in there yet, but the thought alone has you rubbing gently over your skin. “i don’t know.” you admit.
“i want to keep it.” rafe blurts out. “if-if you are pregnant.” rafe can’t take not touching you any longer, pulling you close to him and tangling your limbs together.
“are you sure?” you raise your eyebrows. you think rafe would be an amazing father, knowing how protective he is of you, and how he strives every day to take even better care of you. “we are so young.”
“i love you. i want to be with you, i want a family with you. why not start now?” rafe questions. he won’t admit it to you yet, but he’s been thinking about taking the next step, having even gone ring shopping to see his options. “besides-” rafe smiles, “why are you trying to talk me out of it? you’ve always wanted kids.”
you grin back at him. “i know.” you let a giggle free, feeling giddy about the possibility. you’ve always wanted to become a mom, especially because you have so many younger siblings. “so, are we doing this?”
“yes.” rafe says definitively, pulling you in for a kiss, a comforting one that you truly need.
“oh my god, im so excited.” you break the kiss to mumble against his lips.
rafe nods in agreement, lowering a hand between your bodies to touch your stomach. “probably too early to start talking to your tummy, huh?” 
“definitely. i mean, we don’t even know if i’m pregnant, it may take a couple tries…” you trail off, hoping rafe gets your intention.
“well, i will just have to keep cumming inside you.” rafe shrugs. “in fact, we shouldn’t take any chances and i should fill you up again right now.”
rafes hand lowers from your stomach to your thigh as he grabs your flesh and pulls your leg over his hip, spreading your thighs for him as your cunt rubs up against his quickly hardening cock.
“rafe!” you shout with a laugh, but don’t stop him as he begins to grind his cock into your core.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart
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kettlefire · 11 months
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I need like 15+ hour list of Justice League fics where the premise is "Manipulate, Mansplain, or Manslaughter" a way through whatever trouble and it's just Bruce/Batman always defaulting to Manwhore, and it works.
Every.
Single.
Time.
Without fail.
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iluliluu · 4 months
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me, sitting in front of my laptop and shaking violently
i wanna write i don't wanna write but i wanna write but i really don't wanna
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springfaekohaku · 4 months
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Warning Shot
It was only supposed to be a warning shot.
Steve Harrington found himself staring face first into the barrel of a gun, held by none other than Nancy Wheeler — his girlfriend.
Said girlfriend was shouting at him, while Jonathan Byers stood at her side with matching bandages on their hands, the boy looking just as shocked as Steve. His voice echoing around them and getting lost in Nancy’s booming voice, a side he never saw from the girl that he fell head over heels with. Steve could only hold his hands up in a surrendering gesture, he was officially freaking out.
It was chaos. Steve didn’t even know what to think, he arrived with the intent to figure out what was going on with the two of them, Tommy and Carols voices taunting him in his head that something was going on. But this? He was being screamed at, demanding he’d leave and get out of the Byers residence, while Christmas lights were flickering on the wall with an alphabet drawn into it; he felt like he was having a fever dream.
Until the walls started to tremble and shake, Nancy’s voice got desperate and in a panic at Steve’s insistence to know what the hell was going on, he just wouldn’t leave. Jonathan’s panic at the escalation and the added pressure of Steve being in the midst of their plan, making everything go astray. Nancy had to do something to get Steve to leave, she felt herself building in pressure and like a rubber band; she snapped.
Just as the roof was being sunken in and the lights bursting, a loud BANG! rung through the living room and it all went silent…
Steve felt like his ears burst and could only hear ringing as he stared at Nancy. It was like things were in slow motion and his brain didn’t catch up to what just happened until he felt a burning sharp pain in his right hand and turned his head to see a hole in the middle of his palm. That’s when it all set in and realised what the fuck just happened.
He hears both Nancy’s and Jonathan’s voices.
“It was only supposed to be a warning shot. I-It, I…I aimed above I swear. I didn’t mean to.”
“What did you just do?! You shot him! You actually shot him, whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck—”
Steve finally felt everything coming back and clear as the ringing subsided, the adrenaline wearing off and he truly feels the agony and pain in his hand. There is a hole in his hand. In the middle of his palm.
There is a fucking hole in his hand.
And Nancy Wheeler, his girlfriend was the cause of it. Pretty sure it was Ex-Girlfriend now.
He hears the two teenagers shouting in panic and stress, while Steve checked out, only feeling blood pooling out from his wound down his arms and off his elbow. So he releases his hands from the air and cradles his injured hand with his other one, it hurt but his mind was somewhere else and everything seemed to collapse on itself. In his mind and currently in the Byers living room. However, he had a rude awakening as he felt Jonathan call out his name like trying not to spook a wild animal that’s been injured. His name was soft and gentle on his lips. Steve could see the desperation and panic in his eyes, like they were running out of time.
And they were. They were given a moment of peace until hell broke loose again. Only this time, the roof does sink in on itself, with a monster phasing through it and Steve was right under it. He could only look up and see what appears to be a claw, almost puncturing through the roof like it was made out of flesh and stretched skin.
Jonathan didn’t waste a second, discarding the initial plan to coax Steve into safety, they ran out of time; so he lunges for Steve. Grabbing his uninjured arm, tugging him and both jumping over the bear trap and to the room with Nancy ahead, opening the door for both boys and her last, locking it and standing guard.
Steve was walked to the bed and Jonathan sat him down. He had to find something to bandage Steve’s wound, which felt fruitless because there was no medical supplies in this room. So he figured the next best thing is a thin layered shirt that he can tear up and use as a makeshift bandage. It seemed like luck was on his side because he found exactly that. It was a disposable shirt too, it wouldn’t be missed, so he got to work. He had to act fast, he could hear the monster finally break through and its heavy body hit the living room floor. He kneels down in front of Steve and sees the other boy holding his injured hand and trembling. He coaches Steve through it and tells him it’s going to be okay, that it’ll hurt but that he’s here. Maybe it was also to get himself together too. He’s not leaving. As scared as he is, Jonathan knew the monster smelt their blood and now Steve’s fresh flesh wound, he didn’t want it to get any worse than it already is.
They had a plan. It’s all gone to shit and haywire.
Now, they just need to figure out how to trap the bastard and keep it from the others. They can still do this, they need to do this.
Jonathan looks at his handy work and deems is satisfactory for now and turns towards Nancy, meeting her eyes, he sees her guarded, her eyes were stormy and face littered in a ripple of emotions. But it seems like she also has the same conclusion, get it together and focus on the plan; no matter if it’s skewed and ruined.
So, she meets Jonathan’s gaze. She doesn’t even have it in her to look at Steve. Her boyfriend. The boy she shot.
They can still execute in the next phase. They just need Steve to be hidden in a secure place, away from danger.
Away from Nancy and her gun. Which was unsaid but it was spoken in her mind.
Nancy nods, standing guard and Jonathan nods in return. Standing up to guide Steve to a wardrobe, taking everything out and placing him in. Jonathan didn’t feel any resistance, he can clearly tell Steve is still in shock and internally dissociating. He notices that far-away look and how pliant he was with being essentially manhandled into the wooden wardrobe. Sitting him down, Jonathan can only offer a few words of reassurance and telling the older boy they’ll be back for him when it’s over. He wasn’t able to wait for a response as Nancy signals Jonathan and Steve feels the sense of safety and warmth leave his space. A feeling he’d never thought associating with Jonathan, it was new but he couldn’t help but feel his lingering touches, gentle yet firm.
He doesn’t even notice the wardrobe doors close and all he knows next is darkness and being left alone with his thoughts. He can’t help but think back to his and Jonathan’s spat, how Steve taunted him and called him names, said awful things about his family and yet…the younger boy grabbed him and took his hand into safety and out of danger without a second thought. He can’t help but also think about how in their fight, or well, Steve’s beat-down, how Jonathan being on top of him sparked a feeling that felt dangerous and unknown, yet familiar. How he straddled his hips and felt his hands on him and like moments ago, instead of his touch hurting, he was gentle and kind. He felt butterflies in his stomach. It made Steve and his entire world go into turmoil and it seems like he’s come to two conclusions tonight:
Monsters are real.
He’s pretty sure he’s having a Queer awakening.
He didn’t have time to dwell more in the closet, haha, because the sound of gunshots, the sound of like a banshee screeching, Nancy’s voice and Jonathan’s grunts could be heard; Steve had to get out.
So he does.
Steve breaks out of his hiding spot and opens the door, he rushes to the scene of commotion and sees Jonathan pinned down by the monster, which looked to be made out of flesh, its mouth opens like a flower with petals that has razor sharp teeth inside — all wanting to bite into Jonathan’s face as the boy tries to fight against it. Nancy fired shots but it seems to not deterrent the monster, not even bothering it and she seemed frozen and unsure what to do next.
Enter Steve who spots the nailed bat, so he leaps over the bear trap again, grabbing the nail bat and as the adrenaline fills his entire being once again; he doesn’t even feel the pain as he grips the bat in a death grip. He gets close enough and shouts at the ugly bastard. He gains its attention and it screeches at him, now smelling the fresh blood from Steve’s hand and detached itself from Jonathan. It stood and towered over Steve but Steve didn’t feel anything but anger, rage, the instinct to protect and keep them safe.
He twirls the bat to get a better grip and positions himself into a stance to fully swing at the monster, using all his strength and power, he hoped playing baseball for a while payed off.
So he swung, the monster staggering and Steve was hitting blow after blow and that’s when Nancy and Jonathan recoup to see Steve backing the hideous creature into the bear trap. It was working.
Holy shit, it was working.
Steve knew it fell into the trap as it screeched in a guttural scream that he hasn’t heard before.
That’s when he hears Jonathan’s voice shouting at him to stand back and he sees the boy throw a lit lighter into the gasoline which Steve didn’t even notice until it was engulfing the floor and racing towards the trap. Eventually engulfing the creature and the three teens watch as the creature screamed, tried to break free of the trap and even tears off its leg to escape.
Nancy was caught off guard at the unexpected movement and backed away and tugged Jonathan back with her. Eyes trained on it as it advances towards them but then Steve, Steve being the reckless idiot he was, uses the last of his strength and takes only a few strides and twists his body, elbows up and shoulders squared; his feet planted and he swings.
The nails pierced the monsters head before the rest of the bat followed, connecting with the head ripping it clean off its shoulders. The screeching stopped at its decapitation and only the sound of fire burning its flesh remain and the flicker of the lights finally stop and the room stopped feeling like it was going through an earthquake. They stare at the monsters corpse and sees it disintegrating under the flames, taking the heat with it and only leaving scorch marks behind.
Everything was still.
It was over.
Or was it?
TBC…
Next chapter —>
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ultralightpoe · 5 months
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Spellbound Part 3- Geralt of Rivia
Authors Note: Y'ALL I AM SO SORRY! I thought I scheduled it and I do monthly breaks from all social media! Omg I really screwed y'all over! I AM SO SO SO SO SO SORRY. How can I make it up birdies?
Word Count: 3093
Description: Part One and Part Two
Warnings: Heavy smuttt y'all
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Enjoy!
Before Geralt had lost his entire life he was told as a child that there was always a beginning, middle and end. And though most people always thought that this merely pertained to stories his parents always told him that they belonged to humans too.
Every human had a beginning, middle and end.
Every monster had a beginning.
Every Saint had a beginning.
But none of them mattered right now, because all Geralt could think of right now was you. Your beginning, middle and end. He wanted to know more of your story more than he ever had before. 
You had both settled down at a rundown inn, him covering his hair and you covering the bruises someone had left on your neck. The innkeeper, a straggly old lady that could barely turn to grab the key to the rooms, barely cast either of you a glance. 
You kept close to him as you both made your way up the stairs, and Geralt was embarrassed to admit that a surge of pride crossed through him at this. You seek his warmth and protection, and he would give it. He would give you anything you wanted. 
Yennifer had left as soon as she could, saying that she would be going to find Jaskier and letting him know they found you. 
Geralt would keep you with him in the inn, per Jaskiers request. The bard pretends to worry about you with all the traveling, claiming that it would be best if he came to the two of you. Geralt saw the lie, he just could not give a shit. 
Instead he started a fire, setting you in front of it and mumbling that he would be right back. You snatch to grab his upper arm when he moves to leave, but he merely nods, letting you know it is okay to let go. So you do, swiping your fingers under your eyes quickly, but it was too late and he had already seen the tears.
He makes the trip quick, buying you warmer clothes and heading back and ordering some hot stew from the innkeeper, heading back to the room when she tells him she will bring it. 
You are right where he left you when he comes back in, this time a little closer to the fire and curled up a little tighter. Geralt, who had always struggled to sneak around, tried to lighten his footsteps as he neared you. 
“I brought some fresh clothes. How about a bath and a change?” He asks, his voice scratchy from lack of use, but he does his best to keep it gentle. 
You shake your head, the slightest of movement that somehow managed to clench his heart in his chest. “I’m too tired.”
“Allow me.” He whispers, holding out his hand for you. 
“Allow you?”
“To bathe you.”
“You would do that?” You smile, the beginning of a laugh climbing up your throat at the thought. 
“It would be my honor.” His tone makes it sound like he is teasing, but there is nothing but seriousness behind that comment. 
“You won’t jest?”
“Never.”
And at the simple touch of your fingers reaching up to his own has his skin on fire, shaking slightly as he helps your stand, shuffling to the bathroom and leading you to the center of the room and turning to heat the bottom of the tub with fire as he waits for you to get undressed 
But when he turns back to you he finds you waiting patiently, still in the gaudy thin dress, watching slowly. 
You seem fazed out now, eyes shuttering as you reach to him and begin untying his own shirt. A moment of startlement crosses him before he reaches a hand up and stops you by grasping your own in his larger palms. He rubs softly as he tries to relax you, shaking his head. 
“Not me. You.”
“You, with me.”
“I do not want to-”
“I don’t wanna be exposed alone.” It’s then that Geralt knows what you mean. You don’t want to be the only one naked and vulnerable. So he would join you. Anything for you. 
He turns to undress as you undress yourself, and once he hears you get into the tub he turns himself, his heart stopping in his chest at the sight of you. 
Your breasts are just barely covered by the water, and within that moment you managed to tie your hair up with a leather scrap, exposing the bruised neck and collarbone . In this moment you looked broken, and still astonishingly beautiful. It wasn’t fair. 
He takes a moment to climb in, and suddenly he feels the stress from the last few months beginning to fade from his body as he nears you, sitting across from you knee to knee. 
Silence fills the room, and Geralt stresses to find something to say as you lean forward to rest your forehead on his knee. 
“Turn around so I can wash your hair.” He whispers, allowing you room to do so and beginning to work on your hair with the soap. “My parents used to tell me stories.”
“About kings and dragonslayers?”
“No, about monsters.” 
“How so?”
“They used to tell me that the saints and the monsters of the world all had stories of their own, that everyone you come across has a beginning, middle and end.” 
You turn slightly to watch him, and he does his best to seem relaxed. 
“I spent most of my time stressed in impressing and protecting you.” He whispers. “I was gruff, which I do with most people. Keeping you and everyone else at arm's length.”
“I’m trying to see how this relates, witcher.”
“I want to know your story, I want to know your beginning and middle and I am desperate to be with you until the end.”
“Why would you want to know all of that?”
“I have found that, even with you mad at me, that I am nothing in this world without you.”
“I will tell you everything if you tell me everything.”
—------------
You fall asleep listening to him whisper the same stories his parents once told you, rubbing your hair softly as you keep your nose shoved into his chest. 
You awake around midnight screaming, it takes Gerat a couple minutes to calm you down before he moves to start another fire, bringing you closer to it for warmth and letting you lay in front of it. 
The days follow as this, staying by the fire in the cold winter air, whispering back and forth. Eating the stew and roasts the innkeeper made. 
You tell him about your life, and he tells you about yours. 
Finally you ask. 
“Shouldn’t you be out there? Working for the people?” Your head is laid out on his thigh as he watches the snow fall from the window. “I have never known you to sit still, Geralt.”
His heart lurches at the sound of his name falling from your lips. “I have spent the past few weeks working…..for you.”
“What do you mean?” You ask quickly, lifting your head from his thigh, eyes traveling his scarred abdomen before landing to his eyes. 
“I was trying to buy out the contract. For you?”
“Why would you do that? How much money did that end up being?”
“Not enough. It seems that the monster of a brothel keeper and I can agree on one thing, you are priceless.”
“Then how-”
“Yennifer smuggled you out-”
“Then what of the coin?”
“It’s yours. It’s all yours if you want it. Enough to buy a cottage in the hillside for years and-”
“And what if I wanted to stay with you? And Jaskier? Or do you not want me?”
“There is nothing more that I want than you. But I treated you horribly-”
You snap to stand then, hair flipping as you stomp across the room to fling a pillow at him. “How so?”
“That night, you were under a spell and I was so close to absolutely defiling you-”
“I wanted it! If you weren’t so pigheaded you would know that those charms only work if the one wearing it is-” 
“Stop.” There was a heavy force in the room, pressing through his chest to his lungs as he tried to catch his breath. 
“Stop what?”
“This will ruin everything-”
“How. So.”
“BECAUSE I CAN’T LOSE YOU!” He yells, rubbing at his forehead. “I would rather not have you than lose you. Do you understand?”
“Do you love me?”
“Y-”
“Do you love me as I love you?” 
“Yes.” And just like that the tight feeling in his gut that formed the moment he had laid eyes on you. His body was lighter and his heart felt like it was righted once more. “I love you.”
“Then what does it matter?”
“You’ve….. You have had a long couple m-”
“I want you.” You whisper, slowly tiptoeing around the room. “I trust no one but you. No one has given me the truth more, and protected me more.”
“I was cruel and-”
“I understand now.” You smile, tears filling your eyes. “I’ve seen terrible terrible men-”
His fists clench at his sides, the urge to find every man that harmed you and smash their heads with a hammer, as he watches you move closer until your own hands find purchase on his chest. 
The warmth fills him the second you touch him. 
“But you, in all your gruff warnings and rude awakenings, have never been a bad man.”
“You deserve better.”
“I am a brothel worker. I deserve nothing. But this is not what I deserve, this is what I want. Desperately so.”
“You want me?”
“I need you, Geralt.”
His hands unclench, moving up until they rest at your cheeks as he gazes down at you. “I need you too.”
“Then show me.” It’s a simple whisper, but one he hears through his being all the same, moving you backwards slowly until the back of your knees are pressed to the bed. He waits for you to show him a sign of fear or that you changed your mind. But you merely smile up at him, fingers moving to slide over the scars on his abdomen. 
“I trust you.” You whisper, the tips of your fingers sliding against his skin until they get to the breaches he wears and begin untying them.
“After what you have been through…”
“I want you to remind me of what it could be.” And he can’t help himself after that, moving to grab the bottoms of the night dress, keeping eye contact with you as his fingers graze your thighs while he lifts it up slowly, his heart hammering in his chest as you smile softly, allowing him to stand once more and remove the dress from you. 
You allow him to watch you, the wild look in his eyes as he traces your skin slowly. 
“You’ll tell me the second you change your mind?”
“The very instant.”  It was like a cord snapping, a leash let go and suddenly Geralt could not help himself. In one quick swoop he reaches to toss you onto the bed, watching you with dark eyes while you scooch backwards to get comfortable.
He prowls above you, enjoying the excited gleam in your eye as he crawls between your legs to kiss at your lips softly, then the softness turns to hunger as his hand grabs your jaw and he devours you. Kissing you like a man completely starved of it. 
A soft moan falls from your lips and he is nearly a goner, his breath lost as he pulls back to admire his work, a string of saliva keeping you both connected as you take a moment to open your eyes, lips swollen and red. He holds out his hand, waiting patiently for you to catch your breath before he orders you to “Spit.”
You comply easily, and he stops himself from growling in pleasure before he takes his hand and slaps your cunt harshly, a smile tearing across his face when you moan out before he is crawling back down the bed to shove his face between your legs roughly and lick a stripe between your folds. 
The moment your thighs tighten around his head he vows that he will spend the rest of his life doing this, no matter where and no matter when. He would suffocate in this spot if you would let him. A low growl releases from his chest as you moan, fingers lacing themselves in his hair tightly and tugging as he laps at your clit.
Over and over, feeling you spasm with pleasure twice before you use your hands and tug him up by his hair, whining. 
He drags his eyes up to you then, seeing the tears from pleasure streaming down your cheeks as he kneels in front of you on the bed. 
“Are you hurt?” Even if he had the carnal urge to take you right here and now your safety and well being came first and foremost. You seem to realize this as you move up and reach to wrap your arms around his neck, his hands flying to your sides to help stabilize you. Rubbing softly as he peers down at you, him being twice your size. 
Just the thought of it makes his stomach clench in anticipation as you lean up to kiss him, allowing him to lean you both back down onto the bed and lay over you, picking up the kiss just as hungrily. 
He only pulls away from your kiss to kiss along your neck and collarbone as you reach down to line him up. He has to close his eyes and take in a shuddering breath the second you touch him and it takes everything not to finish there. 
But it is all worth it as he pushes in, a growl once again ripping out of his chest as you moan out, foreheads pressed together as he pushes until he is bottomed out. 
“So….. fuck.”
“Neverstop.” You whine, pressing your chest up into his with your eyes still closed. But that just wouldn’t do. How could he admire your fucked out look if he didn’t have your undivided attention. So he pulls your hair and orders you to open your eyes. 
You don’t listen, instead moving your hips to gain some friction so he shoves his own hips down to keep you pinned into place as he orders one more. “Let. Me. See. Your. Fucking. Eyes.”
When you finally open them he begins moving, a slow pace at first, allowing you to gain pleasure slowly but the second he feels the tightness loosen up and you get wetter he is unleashed, pounding into you at a heavy pace. 
The headboard hits the wall with each hit, and your face is thrown into one of pure pleasure as he keeps going. And Geralt cannot think of anything he has ever done to deserve this. 
He would never actually deserve this, but he was so grateful that you had given him a chance, because this is what pure heaven was. 
“You’re mine.” He grunts out, one fist tightening in your hair as he kisses down your throat, thrusting into you at a rapid pace as your hands fly to scratch down his back in a way that has him holding his breath to stop from finishing. 
“I’m yours.” You moan out, tears streaming down your cheeks. 
“I’m never letting y- FUCK- you leave again.”
“I’ll never leave again.” 
“I’ll kill any man that touches you.” 
“No one else.” You cry out, and he feels you tighten around him once more and knows you’re close so he reaches a hand and pinches at your nipple harshly. “Only you Geralt. My Geralt!” You come undone around him, eyes rolling back as he keeps you pressed to his chest and finishes inside you, keeping you as close as he can while letting you both ride out your highs. 
By the time you both finish he lays you both down, his head laying on your chest with him laying between your legs as you play with your hair. 
“I love you…..” You whisper, twirling some of his hair softly.
“I love you.” He replies, moving until his chin is laying on your stomach and he can look up at you. “And I will never let you forget that.”
—-------------
You are awakened by a boot pressing into your cheek as you grumble out and move to push it away. 
“Geralt I swear-” But when you open your eyes you see none other than Jaskier with a cheeky little grin over his face as he stares down at you, a mug of what smells like cider in his hand. 
“Not your lover, but your closest friend.”
“Roach wears boots now?” You laugh, moving to stretch as he rolls his eyes. It had been months since you escaped the brothel, and since everything has changed. Jaskier seems more clingy than ever which was something you only pretended to hate, and Geralt has gone from the stoic asshole to the stoic love of your life…… well in public. 
Behind closed doors he spent most of his time worshiping you. 
“Where is he?” You ask after surveying to find him.
“He took little one to get some water.” 
Another thing that had changed, the young girl that you had smuggled out of a brothel months ago, who has slowly become like a daughter to you, well youngest daughter since you considered Ciri your daughter as well. 
“We’re here!” Y/d calls, her pudgy hand held in Geralts as he leads the girls back, Ciri with a small smile on her face while Y/d rushes to you. “We got water!”
“And Geralt says we have to be off.” Ciri sighs, leaning forward to accept your loving touch as you fuss over her hair. 
“Let’s get on the horses.” Your lover grunts, lifting y/d from under her shoulders and setting her on roach, moving to help Ciri before getting to you. A hand finds purchase on your thigh as you lift yourself onto your horse, smiling down at him. 
“Don’t get any ideas.”
“While you look like that? How will I ever break the love spell?”
“Guess your spellbound then.”
“Always have been.” He kisses your thigh while Jaskier is turned before turning to his own horse and jumping on, making sure y/d is comfortable before moving on.
(I AM SO SORRY, I REALLY THOUGHT I SCHEDULED IT BABES. How can I make it up? I'll do anything.....)
@sagelovesreading
@lashipperrubia @freyafriggafrey @cookielovesbook-akie @whatishappeninghere81 @livesinfantasyland @multiifandomhoe @amara-75 @unfxrgetwble @vlynccx @redlovett @yorkeylover @mxtokko @readinggirl29 @mollymal @fullmoonshadowwrites @rileytwenty @glasschampagne @caffieneaddictt18 @kittiowolf210 @purple-blommie @abrunettefangirlnerd @babezawa @mushy-mushroom04 @miss-goldenweek @pookiesnatcher @thslvr @cardi-bre91
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thefirstpotatoe · 2 months
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I have a theory So i keep seeing fanfiction writers say people commenting on their works gives them such a dopamine rush that it spurs them to keep writing.
By that logic, if i were to comment on a fanfic that hasn’t been updated in over a decade, could i commit a feat of real life necromancy and revive a fic back from the dead or am i just delirious on copium?
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cynosfunnyjokes · 1 year
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A Heart’s A Heavy Burden
Characters: Howl x Reader
Genre: Angst
Warning: None that I can think of.
Summary: Loving Howl Pendragon isn’t easy.
Word Count: 827
Summary: Not really edited or anything- I’m sure there’s mistakes all throughout but I wrote this while watching Howl’s Moving Castle for the umpteenth time lmao. No pronouns are used for the reader!
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Apprenticing under Howl was such a joy- never was there a dull moment. He would brighten up the room with his smile- his laugh. It was so contagious that you and Markl couldn't fight the grins growing on your own faces.
Meeting Howl on its own was nothing but luck- you had found yourself in some trouble with the guards, their stupid remarks making you nothing but uncomfortable- and then poof, a stranger was there, whisking you away.
How strange that the random man was Howl himself- a well-known sorcerer and someone you looked up to. Of course, you nervously asked him to take you on as an apprentice, eagerly telling him about your interest in magic since you were young.
He simply laughed, smiling that bright smile everyone adored, and simply agreed to take you in.
All went well- he was a great teacher after all. Even with him being gone at random times throughout the day, you had Markl to spend time with to practice. And then there was Calcifer and his witty remarks. They never bothered you, simply jokingly throwing one back at him.
It didn't take long for feelings to grow for the mysterious sorcerer- everyone noticed it but Howl himself. Not that it was surprising.
Even Calfcifer noticed but never said about it, unlike Markl who made random remarks during the day in whispers, causing you to hide your face while the blush crept up to your ears.
Although one day, while cleaning up the firepit during the time Howl was away, Calficer clicked his tongue at you.
Raising an eyebrow, you turned your head to the burning ball of fire in front of you, silently asking him “what?”
“You really do love him, don't you?”
It was so sudden, it felt so random-
But that’s all he said. That's all he needed to say.
You were undeniably in love with Howl, and you could only hope the feelings were reciprocated. Maybe, just maybe they were.
All hope went down the drain the moment Sophie showed up. Suddenly, Howl wasn't around as much anymore- and when he was, he was with her.
It was always her. Sophie this, Sophie that.
Slowly, the feelings of sadness crept in, their sharp nails jabbing into your heart.
Is this what heartbreak felt like?
Eventually, you stopped leaving your room- opting to just study the days away instead of focusing on the pain residing in your heart.
Markl would stop by to check on you, dropping off food that would stay nothing but untouched, slowly growing cold as time passed.
Even though you appreciated Markl’s company, it didn't help that he often talked about Sophie- how cool she was. All this, all that.
It was all too much.
Howl never stopped in to talk- to check on you. Not that you expected him to. He was his own person who had his own things to do. He was a busy man after all. But still, you found yourself clinging to that hope- just to have it crushed.
Eventually, even Markl stopped popping in, choosing to set the food down on your table before retreating to Sophie.
It was fine. It was all fine. That's what you always told yourself.
But yet... Why did it hurt so much?
Pressing shaking hands against your tear-filled eyes, the only sound that could be heard was small sobs that you were trying oh so hard to muffle.
It was so unfair.
You wanted him to look at you like he does her. To experience the feeling of being wrapped in his arms, to feel his loving gaze.
But that would never happen.
There wasn't much point in staying there anymore- you refused to leave your room unless it was to quickly run to the bathroom, refused to even leave your bed unless it was necessary.
What was the point of staying there? Where the reminder of your unrequited love stayed?
It was raining outside, the soft pitter-patter of the rain on the window helping drown out any sounds that escaped you.
Bag in hand that was full of a few necessities and a small photo of you and Howl, you stopped to stare at Howl’s bedroom door for a minute.
Loving him hurt- but it wasn't something you regretted. If only things were different, maybe it would've been better. Such a false sense of hope.
Howl seemed happier with Sophie- even Calcifer and Markl were happier.
You weren't needed anymore.
So without a single thought, you turned on your heels and climbed out the hallway window to avoid Calcifer knowing.
Landing on the muddy ground below with a let thump, you looked at what used to be your home one last time, thoughts racing a thousand miles per second. You didn't want to stay and be reminded of how much happier everyone was without you.
So you left, the rain being your only company as you sobbed into the night.
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aria-greenhoodie · 7 months
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In my heart this is how the finale ACTUALLY ended. In my heart…
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Click for Quality!
Based on this specific panel from the comics:
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soapsbaby · 7 months
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☆ Day 1 // First time // Leon Kennedy ☆
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Summary: You're his first.
Characters: Leon Kennedy x Reader
Themes: NSFW (18+), oral (both receiving), PIV, virginity
Word Count: 1.5k
Leon quietly moaned into your kiss, hands tangled in your shirt as if he was desperate to have something to hold onto. 
His hair had fallen into his face, a smile on his face as you pulled back for a second to gently swipe it away so that he could see. 
The reaction to your makeout session was hard against your thigh. 
You pushed your hand between your two bodies, running over his erection, smiling as he let out a quiet moan.
“I’m… I’m sorry.”
You gave him a quick kiss again.
“Nothing to be sorry for.” 
“What is it, hm?”
“I… I have to tell you something.”
His hips bucked into your touch, almost involuntarily, an embarrassed whine escaping his throat as he realized the way his desperate body had betrayed him.
His pale cheeks were now bright red and you could tell that he was struggling to even look you into the eyes.
“I’ve… I’ve never done this before.” 
“What do you mean, sweetheart?”
“I’ve never… Slept with anyone.”, he said so quietly that you could barely understand him. 
You hid your surprise well, luckily. 
You gently cupped his face, he eased into your touch immediately. He was so receptive, so eager for any of the attention you could provide him. 
“Do you want me to be your first?” 
He nodded, still bright red.
“Yes. I’d… Really like that.”
Your hands slipped under his shirt, fingers exploring the ridges of his muscles under his soft skin.
His lips found yours again, kissing you needily.
“Please be my first.”, he whispered, a certain sense of desperation in his voice.
“I want to take off your shirt.”, you said softly, watching his reaction closely, hoping he wouldn’t feel any type of discomfort by your request, but beyond blushing a little harder, he seemed eager.
He pushed himself up from the mattress to give you access to remove his shirt, pulling it over his head. 
The flush on his cheek went all the way down his neck, across his pale chest. 
“You’re so beautiful.”, you said quietly, your hands roaming his chest still, taking in all of him. 
He tugged on your shirt until he had removed it as well, tossing it to the floor.
His eyes scanned your body, gaze falling to your breasts, then jumping up to your eyes again, as if there was any shame in how he wanted to look at you.
"It's okay. You can look. You can even touch if you want, you know?"
You unclasped your bra with a smile, baring your breasts to him. 
"Are you sure?" 
You grabbed his hands, moving them to your chest, smiling as you could feel his inexperience in the way that he touched you, awkwardly kneading your flesh.
Your body tensed as one of his thumbs slid across your nipples, feeling it harden under his touch. 
"Do you like that?", he asked, looking up at you with those puppy eyes of his. 
You nodded, now you were the one to blush.
He hesitated for a moment, then he leaned in, his lips closing around your nipple, tongue darting around it.
His hand moved to the small of your back, anchoring you as your body arched into his touch.
"Fuck… Leon…", you muttered, sighing as his other hand came upward to massage your other breast with a new found confidence from the way you reacted to him.
His hands were so gentle on you, as if he was afraid he'd hurt you otherwise.
"I want to taste you.", he said quietly, lips still pressed to your chest, but slowly working up to your neck.
The hand on your back traveled forward, the tip of his index finger slipping into the waistband of your shorts.
You could see the eagerness in his flushed face, he genuinely meant it. 
You didn't answer, instead just pushing your hips upward, letting him undress the rest of you. 
"You're so beautiful.", he said softly, carefully pushing you back on the bed so he could get easier access to you.
He pushed your legs apart with a gentleness that sent shivers down your spine, kissing across your parted thighs as he worked his way closer to your core.
His eyes fluttered shut as he dragged his tongue across you for a first, almost hesitant taste.
You ran your fingers through his hair, biting back a moan.
"You taste so good.", he whispered, before he leant back in, shorter, quicker licks around your clit now.
Even though his inexperience was obvious, he read you like an open book, interpreting your every noise until he had learnt how to work you, where you needed his tongue, his lips.
"Why are you so good at this?", you panted, feeling yourself slowly build up to your release, your breaths coming in stutters.
He didn't answer, his arm wrapping around your thigh a little tighter as he devoured you.
The moment he sucked your clit between his lips was when you lost it, arching yourself against his face, riding out your orgasm against his lips.
"Fuck… Fuck.", you quietly moaned, grabbing him and pulling him upwards so you could kiss him again.
Your taste was on his lips and you could feel the desperation on him. 
"You did so well.", you muttered as you slowly regained your composure.
His hips grinded against your hand as you palmed him through his pants, he was rock hard.
"I'm sorry you got so little attention.", you said quietly, but he immediately shook his head.
"No. Don't apologize. I could do that forever."
He licked his lips with a grin as if to drive the point home further.
"Still. It's your turn."
He nodded obediently, moving his hips off the bed so you could take his pants off, dragging his boxers down with them.
His erection strained against his stomach.
He bit his lip as you wrapped your hand around him, giving him a gentle first stroke.
His eyes followed you as you bent down before him, kissing along the V lines of his hips.
“Please don’t tease me.”, he whispered breathily, his hand gently in your hair, but not pushing you.
The desperation in his little moans made you try even harder, doing your best to draw even more noises out of him.
He groaned quietly as you took the tip of his cock into your mouth, his body tensing at the new sensation.
“Please…” He didn’t finish his plea, but you knew what he wanted, taking him further into your mouth, tongue swirling around him. 
“How’s that?”, you asked quietly, licking up his shaft with a smile, replacing your mouth with your hand for a moment.
“So good.” He looked at you with a look on his face that you could only interpret as awe, his eyes glazed over in desire.
“Do you want to fuck me, then?” 
“But fuck… I don’t know how long I can last like this.”
There was something akin to embarrassment on his face, but you shut it down immediately, sitting up so you could put a kiss on his lips, gently reassuring him.
You climbed onto him, grabbing his hands and placing them onto your hips, giving him something to hold onto.
He nodded eagerly, even though you could see the nervousness on his face. Your choice of words flustered him even more.
“Hey, there is nothing you can do wrong, okay?”
You kissed him again, gently, passionately, until you pushed him backwards onto the bed.
He whined quietly as you grabbed his cock, lining it up with your pussy. 
You gave him a questioning look, he just answered with a nod, so you slowly lowered yourself on him.
His lips parted with a gasp, grip tightening on you as he took in the feeling, overwhelmed by your warmth and wetness.
“So fucking good.”, he repeated.
You leaned forward, kissing him hungrily, drowning out his quiet moans with your lips as you slowly lifted your hips before moving downward again, giving you a few slow, first movements to adapt to his size.
“You feel so good.”, he panted, his eyes finally opening again, watching you in amazement, eyes wandering down to the spot where your bodies met.
You slowly picked up the pace, always keeping watch of him and his reaction, but there was nothing on his pretty face other than adoration.
His body fit against yours almost perfectly, the way his hands were grabbing you, your chest against his, his cock inside of you.
“I think I’m close already.”, he said, almost apologetically.
You stopped your movement for a moment, gently cupping your face.
There were beads of sweat on his forehead, his hair damp against his forehead.
“Do you want to try to be on top?”
He nodded. He grabbed you without slipping out of you, pushing you to be the one on your back.
He pounded into you quicker than you had ridden him earlier, panting heavily next to your ear, lips pressed against your neck.
“I’m so fucking close.”, he muttered, his voice breathy.
“Keep going, then.” 
You grabbed his face, pulling him in for another kiss as you could feel his thrusts start to stutter, hands grasping the sheets next to your head.
He pulled out of you, leaving you almost painfully empty as he shot thick ropes of cum onto your stomach, moaning desperately against your lips.
With a final groan he collapsed on top of you, easing into your embrace as you ran your fingers through his hair. 
“That was perfect.”
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goldiecastelia · 1 month
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WHERE ARE THE FANFICS!?!?!?!?!?!? FOR ALL THAT IS MOST SACRED, WHERE ARE THE FANFICS?!?!?!?!?!?! It could even be an alternative universe, but please make fanfics!
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choccy-milky · 1 month
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bruh i need to vent about a rude comment i got on my recent chap and also about clora, cuz its something thats been on my mind for a while now. it has spoilers to my most recent chap tho so im putting it below
so in my most recent chap clora gets hit by the killing curse but thanks to seb sacrificing himself for her, it doesn’t work/she survives. and I got a rly rude comment about how that’s super cringe and that clora is a "shoe horning of every possible manifestation of Mary-Sueism I have ever seen." theyre dropping my fic after almost 500k words bc apparently THAT’S where they draw the line and that "just somehow pulling it out the bag and surviving a killing curse from the power of love. In simpler terms, it’s absolutely cringe worthy" and "forgive me if I rolled an eye at the yet again invincible nature of Clora Clemons-the-one-eighth-Veela-extraordinaire"
BUT LIKE LMAO TELL ME U DIDN’T READ/WATCH HARRY POTTER WITHOUT TELLING ME. that’s literally what happens to harry??but its only cringe when it happens to our "mary-sue" clora? like yeah sure love magic might be a bit cringe but IM LITERALLY JUST PULLING FROM THE SOURCE MATERIAL. of all the things to take issue with in my fic and interpretations, theyre taking issue with something that’s canon BAHAHA.
and since im on the topic of clora being mary sue can I just say I hate the misogyny/internalized misogyny that i've seen some people (NOT A LOT, THANKFULLY) treat her with. like i get it, im not pale and blonde and as conventionally pretty as clora is, but even if I was, is that a reason to hate me?? and does being beautiful and well-liked = mary sue? bc as far as I know, mary sue is a chara who is just naturally amazing at everything and doesnt need to try hard and theyre just inexplicably great for no reason (like mc in the base game BAHHAA) if anything the mary sue in MY fic is seb LMAO (but hes a boy so its ok). like clora has worked hard and studied magic all her life due to being a squib and wanting to make up for not being able to DO it. she isnt good at flying, seb is still better at her than duelling, shes really short sighted when it comes to doing/thinking whats best for others and can be a huge idiot.... and like. the only guys that have even shown interest in clora on a real scale have been seb and leander (and then lawley for blackmail purposes, and also bc he hates seb) so its not like literally everyone is falling over themselves for her?? like her interactions with the main cast of boys (ominis, garreth, amit) theyre all indifferent to her LMAO but still, the fact that shes pretty and guys here and there might look at her and go o shes cute! doesnt make her a mary sue SORRy thats just called being attractive idk its just annoying that ppl automatically see a nice kind beautiful female character without any VISIBLE flaws and go SHES TOO PERFECT!! MARY SUE!! WAH IM JEALOUS! and like I get it bc when I was younger I probs would have been annoyed by clora as well due to my own insecurities and internalized misogyny but hey, how about u just realize that’s ur own problem and your own jealousy, and not a real one HAHAH anyway ive since evolved bc I used to be a ‘not like other girls’ type girl back in highschool. trying to be super tomboy-y bc I thought being feminine was cringe and too basic but now ive embraced it and love girly things and dresses and charas like clora who are still strong and showcase their strengths and weaknesses in subtler ways, and I want to smooch her and make out with her. get behind me clora ill protect you🤺🤺🤺
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Note
I'm not into Batman or comics at all, but I feel like there's a real and tangible difference between saying you have to engage with The Hunger Games to get Katniss Everdeen and saying you have to engage with comics to get a comic book character. The Hunger Games is a completed series of books that can be read in an attainable amount of time, and the characterization is easy to understand and consistent because it was all written by one person. Most media was written by one person or team of people and therefore has a certain level of consistency. Even if there was a reboot of The Hunger Games, it would either be characterized very similarly to the first one in which case the distinction would be irrelevant or the fans of the original and the fans of the reboot would be totally distinct fandoms and bodies.
Comics are almost completely unique in that any given run could have been written by almost anyone and characterization fluctuates wildly between runs. That person cited a specific run to read to understand Cassandra Cain, but there are probably dozens, maybe even hundreds of other series that deal with the character very differently and all of them have the same authority as canon. Saying that one is the best one is just another type of fanon, where the fans decide what the best representation of the character is -- or maybe that's the first one she appeared in (?) in which case there's some merit to adhering to the original version of the character, but it's still a community choosing to ignore a lot of canon material in favor of a preferred interpretation.
The closest equivalent to the way comics are produced today is, like, Arthurian legend and ancient Greek tales of the gods and heroes. These stories were made up by hundreds, maybe thousands of people over the years -- are still being made up in some cases -- and any individual's characterization fluctuates wildly between them. There are preferred versions and compilations of these old stories, but people aren't generally judged for liking to talk about the widespread cultural understanding of them, rather than citing a specific ancient Greek playwright or Shakespeare adaptation that they're adhering to and basing all their headcanons off of.
I wish you'd put your name to this, because it's a good take.
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marauderingpaige · 3 months
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Can someone please explain to me why there are only 8157 House M.D. works on AO3? Like, that doesn't seem right to me. There should be more. And like, I am certainly working on adding to it, but more people should work to add to it, I think. I need more fics to read. Even if it is just a cute little one-shot, or you posting your fan art.
I think we should work on getting it in the top 20 on AO3, it's doable, certainly, if we all just write random things that could/should be canon, or are canon but also not canon, ya know?
Anyways, I don't know what I am saying, I am exhausted right now, but I hope all of you phenomenal people are having a wonderful day! xx
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Kirishima gives Todoroki S*x Tips | Todoroki x Reader Fic
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋, Shoto Todoroki x Eijiro Kirishima Friendship
Genre: Fluff, Sex, Friendship, NSFW
CW: MDNI!, discussing sex, foreplay, p*rn, hickies
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Shoto Todoroki doesn’t really get sex until he gets it.
He loves you and knows you want to do it…so naturally he does research. If there’s one thing Shoto is good at, it’s mastering a subject
When Kirishima loses his virginity, he lets Shoto ask him questions. They sit late into the night at the library, reviewing and analyzing Kirishima’s 30 minutes of action. Shoto takes notes and in that straightforward way of his, asks for Eijro’s opinions on positions, foreplay and hickies.
“Did you perform oral sex on her? Is the female anatomy confusing?” He asks, causing Eijiro to go red in the face. Eijiro nods yes to both. “It took a few minutes, but once I got into it, I figured it out pretty quickly!” He says earnestly. Shoto scribbles down a reminder to Google some detailed diagrams of the female body when he gets home.
 “Foreplay is super important, because girls need to, like, warm up before they’re ready to bone.” Eijiro adds, motioning for Shoto to keep taking notes.
“I didn’t know that.” Shoto blinks, surprised. To be fair, he had never really thought much about sex until you’d brought it up a few months earlier. He knew the rudimentary mechanics from middle school health class, but had never wondered what went into the act beyond the basics of reproduction.
“Shoto. My dude. This is going to be harder than I thought.” Eijiro puts his face in his hands. “How does someone our age have little to no knowledge about sex?”
“I wasn’t interested in it until now.” Shoto says flatly. “But now that Y/N wants to do it, I want to, too.”
Eijiro stares at Shoto thoughtfully through his fingers. “That was a pretty chivalrous response.” He admits, lifting his head from his hands. “You just want to make your girl happy, I can get behind that. But Shoto – if you don’t want to have sex, you don’t have to. Enthusiastic consent is key to solid intimacy.”
“I really want to do this.” Shoto says insistently. “I don’t really understand what all the hype is about, but I want to try it with y/n. I want to feel close to her that way. And maybe once I do it, I’ll understand.”
“Alright, man. Then I’ll help you. Consider me your Sex Expert. Your Sexpert!” Kirishima grins at his witty wordplay.
Shoto looks at him skeptically. “Haven’t you only had sex once, though? How much of an expert can you possibly be?”
Kirishima deflates. “I don’t see anyone else out in the library at 11pm giving you sex advice!”
“True.”
“So let me teach you what I know.” He says sagely. “Just call me your Sex Sensei!”
Shoto snorts out a laugh. “Pass.”
“Fine, be like that. Regardless, you are now my student. I will shepherd you into the next phase of your sex life with chivalry and grace.” Eijiro is really getting into the bit now. One look down at Shoto’s nervous face pulls him back down to Earth. “What’s wrong?”
“This is a lot. What if I’m bad at it? And what if y/n hates it?” Shoto closes his notebook and looks pleadingly at Kirishima with his mismatched eyes. “You’ve got to help me.”
“Calm down, man. It’s really not as big a deal as you think! And I’ve already committed to being your Sex Sensei, so we’re going to see this through together.” He motions for Shoto to open up his notebook again. “Now let’s start with the basics – have you ever watched porn?”
--------------- FIN for now! ------------------------------------------------
I'm working on a longer fic to really dig into this exploration for Shoto! I love the idea of Kirishima being such a bro and trying to help his friends however he can. I also LOVE the idea of Kirishima fucking someone once and believing that makes him the resident expert on sex.
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