#but he's just jelly that he has short lashes

[luveline]

a june baby drabble —a typical sunday morning with eddie and his girlfriend (and her toddler)

Your arm wakes up first. Eddie's trying hard to climb over you without making any noise, and for the most part he's succeeding. You have superhuman hearing, the groan of the bed springs and the soft shuck of his socks on the floor waking you. 

"Eddie?" you mumble, blinking tired lashes. 

He strokes your cheek with the side of his pinky finger. You startle but turn into it fast, hungry for doting touch. Usually, Eddie would be eager to give it to you, but he needs to pee. 

He gives your cheek a last rub. Eddie's heavy with affection —he loves giving it to you, and you're in sore need. You're a sponge for love, probably because you didn't get as much of it as you needed the last few years. 

You poured it all into Junie 'til you had nothing else left, then you poured more. 

Eddie does his business, gets distracted in the bathroom by a toothpaste stain on the sink and then decides he might as well brush his teeth while he's in here. He rushes through it, excited to get back to you and the warm patch of bed he's left behind for some Sunday morning languishing. He's thinking he can stroke your back until it pisses you off. He loves how you let him do it far past annoying you, hiding your squirming until you have no choice but to push him away, the tickling unbearable. 

He's scratching his hair away from his face and squinting in the morning sun in the hall when he realises his prime time spot has been poached. A little arm curled around your neck, little face pressed to your face. Junebug hugs you while you snooze with a massive goofy smile on her lips, her cheeks chubby and her bare feet by your hip. 

Eddie knows then, looking at her, that he was wrong for thinking you needed love. You may not have been getting all the love you deserved, but the love you needed has been in arm's reach for the last three years. 

He climbs up the bed from the bottom, holding Junie's side up gently to slide beneath her. 

"Good morning, Junie-girl," he whispers, meeting her tired eyes. "You have a sleepie. Want me to get it?"

Her nod is slow like her head is moving through jelly. Eddie reaches up around her to brush it from the corner of her eye, careful not to scratch her with his nail. "Ew," he whispers teasingly. 

"Eddie," Junie grumbles. 

"You're gross, babe." 

"No," she says. 

Eddie wipes her sleepie in his shirt, unbothered. "Mom gets bad sleepies too. Must be from her. But I'm kidding, I'm kidding, you're not gross, are you?" His voice turns to a loving croon. "You're beautiful." 

You mumble something. Junie hugs you more insistently, prompting you to turn her way and pull your arm out. You drag her into your chest and bury your face in the side of hers, barely audible as you say, "He got that right." Cheek kiss, your hand covering her back, her pyjamas bunching under your slow back and forth, Junie looks as spoiled as any girl can.

Eddie inserts himself into the cuddle shamelessly. 

"What were you doing?" you ask, reaching blindly for his hand. 

"Me? Just using the facilities. You're real nosey, you know that?" 

"Bite my head off for asking," you say. He imagines you'd shrug if you had the arm space. "I won't ask again."

"Good," he says, though that's the opposite of what he wants. Eddie plans on answering small questions from you for the rest of his life if he has a choice. 

Junie plants a kiss on your cheek and uses her arms to leverage herself high enough to pout at Eddie. He brandished his cheek for a kiss, endeared when short fingers tangle in the hair by his ear. "Good morning," Junie says. "Mommy, you want breakfast?" 

You giggle and push yourself up the pillow, elbow in the mattress to get some height. You look very tired still, but you're a dream in Eddie's eyes, skin puffy around your eyes and your lips chapped. He's so in love, he wants to unscrew the chapstick and put it on you himself. He genuinely might do it. 

"Do you want breakfast?" you ask Junie. "Can you tell me? I want breakfast." 

"I want breakfast," Junie says. 'Breakfast' is a struggle for her sometimes, heavy on the 'uh' sound, like break-f-uh-sssst. She's a slow learner, but getting better everyday. "Sausages."

That sounds even funnier in her high-pitched voice. You brush a curl from Eddie's face thoughtlessly, looking at him without really looking at him. "We'll have sausage, egg and grits, yeah? Yummy." 

"Yummy," Junie agrees. She gives Eddie a pointed stare.

"Yummy," he says, scooping her up carefully to hold to his chest. "Let's go! Before mom thinks she's in charge of cooking!" 

You laugh as Eddie stands up in the middle of your mattress, and Junie screams with it as he bounds off of it and into the hallway. "Eddie, you could've tripped on the sheets!" you chide. 

"Oh no," he says, spinning down the hall, laughing himself as Junie starts her infectious baby giggle, vertigo pulling her head back. 

He makes a maraca of your girl until you appear to get her back, and for a good ten seconds, Eddie manages to wrap his arm around your arm and spin you with them. Your laughter is as cute as June's but lined in real alarm. You get dizzy faster than your daughter does. 

"Don't drop her," you plead, pulling away from him.

"As if I would." 

"Please, Eddie, you're wearing slippery socks." 

He stops spinning her. He doesn't feel dizzy himself, he wouldn't have risked something silly like that, but he stops because you were worried, and he only ever wants you to be relaxed, well-rested, and loved. 

"Take your spawn," he says, passing her to you with the utmost care. 

You take her and settle her against you, stroking her under the eye with the back of your finger. "Thank you. Eddie shook you around like a can of soda, huh? How do you feel?" 

"Hungry," Junie says immediately. 

You press a smile to her temple. "Good. Eddie's making breakfast." 

Eddie could pump his fist in victory, he's that happy. You're finally letting him take care of you. "Three plates of the best sausage, egg, and grits ever coming right up, ladies."  

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #june baby universe

[rxgerthatt]

save me darling, for you are my salvation

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings : 18+/smut/creeps/ no minors!

Summary : you own a cafe. Bucky’s trying to work through his shit.

A/N : two in one day? Aren’t you lucky.

When Bucky met you he was a changed man.

As changed as an ex assassin with a metal arm and superhuman strength could be.

Gone were the days of mission reports and masked, grime slicked faces. No more soviet slugs, no more murdering innocents. I’m James Buchanan Barnes, I’m no longer the Winter Soldier and you are part of my efforts to get my life back together.

Or something like that.

He’d taken up therapy. Once a week for one hour, unpacking decades worth of baggage he kept locked away in the folds of his mind. He’d come to your cafe after every session - 2pm on the dot - and not because the coffee was good.

Nah, he came because of you.

The bright eyed girl. Bouncing hair and gleaming smile. In another life he would have had no issue asking you out, but a hundred years of trauma has an affect on his confidence. You were like a soothing balm over his mind. After an hour of facing demons with gaping mouths, drooling nothing but trauma over his shoulder - seeing your smile made them shrivel into the darkness once more.

“Hey Bucky,” you beam, joyful, full of light and he wonders how you do it. “The usual?”

“Hey,” he sits at the counter. “Please doll.”

You sit your book down, get to work on making him a black coffee - one sugar because he needed the lift up.

You place it in front of him with a grin, “one black with sugar.”

He thanks you, “what you reading today?”

You push your book across the counter, bent corners, pages dog eared and he could tell it was well loved. A Time to Kill.

“You seen the movie?” You ask him, leaning your head in your hands and looking up at him through your lashes and fuck - if he hadn’t dreamed of that in another context.

Bucky shakes his head, takes a sip and watches as you think through what you say next.

“I’ve got it on DVD, you could borrow it or…” you trail off for a moment, before - fuck it. “You could come round? Only if you want.”

Your cute. Cheeks blushed pink, big eyes sparkling and how could he ever say no to you? His candle in the dark, warped reality of his life.

“Tonight?” He finds himself asking.

—

Your apartment is what he expects it to be - immaculate.

A humble one bedroom with eggshell painted walls and dark oak furniture. You open the door to him with a smile, ushering him inside. You’ve laid out snacks - popcorn, chips and these little jelly sweets in colour coordinated bowls.

He watches you as you load up the DVD player. It’s the first time he’s seen you out of uniform, short shorts and oversized graphic tee with these big fluffy slippers that look too big compared to your slender legs.

You have great legs.

“Never expected this to be your kinda film,” Bucky comments as you sit beside him, throwing him a blanket as you wrap yourself in your own.

“I find it best not to judge a book by its cover,” you reply with a smirk. “Who doesn’t love a good crime movie?”

You had a point.

As the movie played on you got closer, until his arm was resting on the sofa above you, two blankets down to one, your back pressed to his side and he was sure it was a good film - but he couldn’t concentrate. He just hoped you didn’t ask any questions about it.

He’d never been this close. To study the curl of your lashes as they kissed the tips of high cheekbones and the soft slope of your nose and the freckle you had just below your ear. You were the prettiest thing he’d ever fucking seen.

You yawn softly as the credits roll. Bucky moves to stand up but you call his name.

“You can take the sofa,” you rub your hands together. “It’s late.”

He nods, feels his heart jump and he doesn’t miss the breath of relief you let out at his acceptance. Maybe you thought he didn’t want you - the furthest thing from the truth - but he knew his exterior was steely - maybe he could let you in.

You bring him pillows, make the sofa look like the comfiest bed in the world and before you retire to your room you kiss his cheek.

“G’night Bucky.”

He leaves before you wake up.

—

Bucky found out he was jealous on a Tuesday afternoon.

He never remembers feeling like this in the 40’s - that green brush of envy as a jock leaned across the counter waffling words he couldn’t hear. You carried on working, humming occasionally but never really listening.

Bucky gets closer and your eyes shift to him, face lighting and you greeted him with that smile that melted his vital organs.

“Hey doll, just the usual please.”

You nod, refusing his money as you get to work on his coffee, and he wonders if the fact you’d never taken a dime from him was a sign you liked him. He hoped it was.

You’re turned away when Bucky catches shit-house in the corner staring openly at your ass - no shame, licking his lips with a smile and Bucky felt the involuntary shift of his metal arm beneath his clothes.

Punk.

“What’s it gonna take babe?” The jock says to you as you turn to clean the counter. You cut a glance in his direction, scowl on your face that Bucky had never seen before because it was so unlike you - his girl with the blazing smile.

“I’m here everyday, won’t you let me take that pretty ass out on a date?” What a gentleman.

You openly bristle, place a bill in front of him with a scowl.

“And I tell you everyday Nathan, I’m not interested in dating,” you respond. “Cash or card?”

Bucky chuckles. He’d never seen that side to you. Fire burning your fingertips, tongue like a whip as you shot his advancements out of the air - bang, bang, bang.

Bullseye.

Nathan finally looks at Bucky then, an icy gaze with stormy blue eyes - enough to scare a cat - not a super soldier.

“You find that funny?” He barks.

Bucky takes a sip of his coffee, grins as he says, “yeah actually, I did.”

As expected, Nathan storms out after paying - men like him have worse bark than bite - and Bucky was well equipped to deal with both. Especially when it came to you.

You sigh, shoulders slumped and you continue to clean. Bucky wonders how often you deal with assholes like that - everyday by the sounds of things. He couldn’t blame a man for trying, you were the most beautiful girl Bucky had ever seen, and he’d been alive for over a century.

“So you’re not interested in dating?” Bucky earns a smile from you, a small chuckle in your throat that still sounds defeated.

You work your arm in circles, counter spotless as you say, “I’m holding out for someone special.”

“Do I know him?” Bucky asks.

“You know him pretty well,” you blush.

—

When he finds out John Walker is Captain America - he goes to you.

He shouldn’t. It’s 3am but he doesn’t know where else to go, saunters the streets and he lands at your door; rapping his knuckles on the wood. Heart on his sleeve, tears brushing his eyes because how could they replace him?

How could they ever replace Steve?

His best friend. His one tie to another life. The only man that deserved the title of Captain America - not some jumped up military man, brainwashed by governments who tell him he’s doing the ‘right thing.’ To see that shield on another man’s arm?

That fucking hurt.

You’re confused when you open the door, groomed by sleep and you’re even prettier when you’re not done up - messy hair, sleep hazed eyes.

“Your neighbour let me in I-“

You move to let him inside, not needing the explanation and Bucky knew he came to the right place. His one solace, his salvation - you.

“Are you okay Bucky?” You ask him and he breaks down.

You hold him as he cries, rub his back with tender hands; his rock against a moving tide. The ocean tried to wash him away but he clung onto you, and his head stayed above water.

He fills in the spots you’ve missed. The parts of his life he wanted to share but was worried they would scare you off. Holy fuck - he wasn’t joking when he said he was 106.

The metal arm mesmerises you. You turn his palm in your hand with a - “I thought you said you had poor circulation?”

You make him laugh. Brew him tea and listen to his queries and you do a better job than Raynor ever could because he just needed someone to hear him, to understand him.

The dark fog lifts with your head on his shoulder, his hand combing through your hair and he apologises for getting you out of your bed. You tell him to shut up.

Nothing else matters when he’s here with you. These fleeting moments where he thinks he could do life like this, a normal life, with you - the girl from the cafe that stopped his heart when he first saw you. You chase away the dark, cocoon him in this blissful period of you and him - that’s all that mattered.

“I’m off tomorrow,” you announce. “You’re welcome to stay.”

“Thank you doll,” he replies.

You take his hand, lead him to your room and it takes him by surprise because it’s a fucking mess and that’s unlike you. You scratch the nape of your neck with a giggle, apologising but he doesn’t know what for.

He sleeps with you tangled around him, the warmth of your body rocking him to a deep slumber; the smell of your hair like a wet finger to a match on his nerves.

Yeah - he could do life like this.

—

You’re the one who kisses him for the first time.

There’s a picnic basket - homemade sandwiches and fresh cream buns on a soft patchwork blanket. The sun pounds on your skin, spot of butter on your chin and he wipes it away with his thumb. You giggle and it lights a fire in his stomach that licks its way through his insides.

You’re so close.

Your lips are soft, your smell intoxicating and he needs to remind himself he’s in a fucking park, but it’s hard not to let himself be completely consumed by you.

Bit late for that pal.

There’s a soft hum in your chest that sends signals straight to his mind, makes him light headed and hazy as he strokes a hand across your cheek.

For the first time he feels like a boy. He’s back in Brooklyn and if you’d been alive a hundred years ago he would’ve asked you to marry him because that’s how deep he’d drowned in you. Like a body of water, you flowed in waves. You pulled him into your current until all he could think of was you.

You giggle because he must look starstruck - blushed cheeks and blown out eyes, lips slightly parted because wow - you amazed him.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Bucky says.

“Why didn’t you?” You quirk your head.

“Been out of the game doll,” he chuckles. “Not good with hints.”

“If I said I liked you would that make it easier?” Your eyes sparkle.

“Let’s go back to your apartment.”

You laugh.

—

You’re in his lap, legs spilling across his thighs as you straddle him and Bucky forgets how to breathe.

His hands are everywhere - your hair, your face, up your shirt. Your tits fit perfectly in his hands, but they sit even better on your chest - perked to attention and fuck - they didn’t make them like you in the 40’s.

Maybe you were the reason he survived. All the pain and torture to reach this moment with you. His girl.

You make work of his belt, slip out his cock into your hand before spitting on it. Bucky groans, lets his fingers mess the wetness beneath your panties before you slide onto him with a whine. You move with ease, up and down - Bucky feels like he’s dreaming; mind clouded with lust and all he could feel was you.

“Fuck,” you say when he hits a particularly nice spot deep inside you and he makes a point of rutting up into you to reach it over and over again because he won’t last long. Not with you.

He throws his head back, blows out a breath as he feels the heat starting in his toes. He holds you hip with his metal arm, pounding into you relentless when he feels your legs grow weak and you did so well for him.

You were so good for him.

You fall forward as your pussy squeezes his girth, head on his shoulder and he’s chasing his high before yours is even finished.

You kiss him lovingly, dropping beside him and he pulls a blanket over you. Bucky kisses the top of your head, the sounds of heavy breathing and rapid heart rate battering against his eardrums.

His mind is blank.

“That was…” you drift off.

“Fucking incredible,” he finishes.

—

He brings you roses on your birthday.

Walked miles around town to find the best of the best because you deserve nothing less and he knows that.

He spots you through the window, cleaning a table in the back corner and he has to stop to watch you in this candid moment. He couldn’t believe you would pick him. The fucked up soldier with the fucked up past.

I’m James Buchanan Barnes and I’m the luckiest guy on the planet.

You look up when he walks into the cafe, not shy as you walk towards him, kissing him softly.

“Happy birthday doll.”

You thank him, holding the roses like a new born child and he notices Nathan scowling in the corner as you prepare them in a vase.

“Thought you weren’t into dating?” Nathan spits at you.

You smile at him, before glancing at Bucky with a smirk.

“I’m into older guys.”

Oh - you’d pay for that.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #winter soldier #marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky x you

[herefortarlos]

I kept my New Year's resolution and have written some new things before the end of January, and made a little banner!! Thank you so much for the tags and encouragement @heartstringsduet @bonheur-cafe @lemonlyman-dotcom @carlos-in-glasses @whatsintheboxmh @thisbuildinghasfeelings @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @alrightbuckaroo @sznofthesticks and everyone else that has tagged me in things these past few months 💖

I know where I want to go with my sad Carlos, loving TK, smutty oneshot, I just need to get all the words out and in the right order and I'm slowly making progress! Please enjoy this short snippet of what I wrote today that I am very happy with!

His eyes are closed and TK can't help but admire how his full lashes look so delicate against his face. Carlos adjusts his position, letting out a small moan as the angle of TK's cock changes inside of him. He hovers over TK and plants his hands on both sides of his head, and TK watches as Carlos' arm muscles bulge and contract from the exertion of riding him for so long. TK is lost in pure bliss, less from how good he feels and more from how gorgeous Carlos looks like this, debauched and unguarded, a secret that only TK has ever been made privy to.

I tag @carlos-tk @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @strandnreyes @liminalmemories21 @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @freneticfloetry @inkweedandlizards @lightningboltreader @orchidscript

#desi writes #takes me so long to hit that “post” button 🤣 every time #tarlos #tarlos fic #wip wednesday #911 lone star

[hyacinth43]

Because AMs deepest desire is to be able to live like humans do (and pretty much to BE human) I always find how different people approach making thier own AM gijinkas interesting :3!

With that being said, what does AM think of his body? How long has he had it?

I spent a loooong time thinking about this, actually I'm attempting to write some short fics about how each of the AI would react to their new bodies upon waking up/being reactivated.

in my gijinka AI universe, they all get their bodies sometime after the events of their respective stories, so Hal is awoken in his new body after Dave "kills" him, and AUTO is awoken in his new body after the Axiom returns to earth.

For AM, he is given his new body after Ted kills the other humans and is turned into the soft jelly thing. So AM is at his lowest and his craziest, having lost his "toys". He isn't immediately happy to have a human body, instead he sees it as a cruel joke, like now he resembles a human but is still robotic. He's also overwhelmed by the sudden sensations and ability to move around, and it takes him a long time to get used to. He would lash out at first, wanting to use his body just to inflict pain on others. But eventually, on his own or with the help of the other AI or you, he starts appreciating life more and living the way he wants to live.

The AM I draw is usually still in the early stages of having his body, he doesn't shut down and shut everyone out all the time, but he's still cruel and doesn't entirely believe this is real.

#ask

[thatwritingho]

Kloktober Day 6

Comedy or Tragedy

Pairing: Relish

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: High sex

Summary:

This is based on a question, and subsequent jokes, when discussing pet names between Relish on discord...

"But does she ever call him just 'Dill?'" - @chordsykat

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

Freckled hands grasped at thick thighs, shoving them up and apart, spreading them nice and wide for a better view of the bright purple toy plunging in and out of her soaked hole. With a breathy moan, Olive tossed her head back onto the mattress, gasping at the new angle as she grasped at fistfuls of the black satin sheets.

"Fuck, Dill!"

Pierced brows furrowed in confusion.

Did she just call me another dood’s name?

Ugh. That was… unpleasant. But, they had finished two back to back joints right before this, and he could tell from the way her pupils were dilating that the oxy was starting to hit, too, so… whatever. She’s high as hell. Slips happen.

It’s fine.

Shaking it off, Pickles gently teased his nails over the soft skin of her inner thighs before gripping them hard, snapping his hips to hers and grinding. This toy was one of his bigger ones, and Olive keened a moan as Pickles fucked it deep inside her wet, wanting heat. Her thighs trembled in his hands as it stretched her deliciously, hit spots seldom stimulated, leaving her feeling simultaneously filled to the brim while still achingly empty — because, after all, despite the plug in her ass and the cock in her pussy… he had yet to fill her mouth.

Pickles grinned a crooked grin as she quivered and squirmed under him, staring with appreciation as her tits jiggled with his motions, the chain connecting her nipples shining against her skin. A single finger tugging at the silver had the room filled with her whines, her hips rocking hard into his as she arched herself from the bed.

"Heh, yeah… yeh like that, baby?"

"Fuck yes, Dill! Ahhh– feels so good… wanna suck your fingers, pretty, pretty please?"

Jesus, she really thinks I'm someone else?

The thought left a bad taste in his mouth, yet he began the rhythm of his hips once more as Olive buried her hands in her hair, face flushed and lashes fluttering as she panted out cute little whimpers and whines and curses, still begging him to fingerfuck her mouth. He tugged the chain just a little harder.

Whatever. It’s fine.

At least he has some eye candy.

Wanting to unravel her further — and to stroke his own ego a bit — Pickles dropped the cool metal back to her ribs in favor of thumbing at her clit, relishing in the way she begged please fuck please please need you so bad Dill please–

Scowling, Pickles had had enough.

Who the fuck does she even know named Dill?

With the intention of giving her what she wanted, of stuffing his fingers in her mouth to shut her up til they were finished, Pickles reached out, stopping short as green eyes widened. Hips faltered in their rhythm so hard the toy popped out, Olive left whining as it rubbed across her clit, smearing wetness over her skin.

Heat rushed to Pickles’ face, flaring across his cheekbones all the way to his ears.

"Nehh?"

His outstretched hand retracted as if burned, raising in an attempt to hide his reddened face as dark, glazed eyes gazed up at him in question.

Blinking at him as her fucked out, floating, tingly brain attempted to catch up, Olive could only manage a "Huh?"

“Wh-what did yew say?”

“Um… when?”

"Jest now. Wh-what did yew jest call me?"

Furrowing her brow at his strange behavior, Olive managed to shift her sluggish, jellied limbs, propping herself up on her elbows. Pickles' blush only worsened as she cocked her head at him cutely, the chain from her clamped nipples hanging just enough to sway with her every breath.

"Yew– jest now, while we've been– yeh were callin' me…"

"...Dill?"

"Y–yeah," Pickles practically squeaked his confirmation, heart thumping wildly in his chest.

A wicked little grin curled up Olive's lips as she lifted a hand to swat away his own, caressing softly over his flushed cheek — hot to the touch and so, so cute. Tingles shot through his limbs as she tilted his chin with thumb and index finger, his breath hitching, pulse racing as she stared him down.

"Mm, yeah? You like that… Dill?"

#pickles is oblivious and we love him for it #is this a comedy? idk but I think it's funny #pickles the drummer #olive axworthy #relish #metalocalypse

[97-liners]

hockey player scoups x figure skater reader

words: 1.2k

fluff, tenderness, pointless romance, etc etc

based on this au by @bfwonu

Knees loose, core tight, focus on the glide of ice beneath steel.

You breathe in and out, counting the beats on the music that streams through your wireless earbuds. How long have you been here again? You’re not sure, but then again, time passes quickly when you’re on the ice. You inhale again as you build speed, feeling the chill wind on the back of your neck as you glide across the rink backward, balancing on one skate. And then there’s your musical cue and you bend your leg and you jump, taking off on the back outside edge of the blade.

For a moment, your world drops away and time slows. Once. Twice. Thrice. But your last half-spin is short, and you know it. You land, off balance and tilted. There’s no way for you to land on your butt and the next thing you know, your entire right side is smarting as you slide across the ice. The breath is knocked from your lungs on impact, and you groan in pain.

You think you hear a shout, but it doesn’t matter because your next musical cue is coming, two double flips following the failed triple loop.

You grit your teeth and somehow manage to pull yourself back to your feet, letting the residual momentum from your fall guide you upright. Breathe in, breathe out, count to the beat. You swing your free foot back, but when the toe pick hits the ice, your legs suddenly turn into jelly. You fall again, this time harder and directly onto your hands and knees as you pitch forward.

“Fuck,” you grunt, sliding across the ice as you feel yourself collapse. It feels like you skid for ages before you slowly drag to a stop. Your legs are covered in chips of ice, which begin to melt through your leggings and onto your tender skin, cold seeping into your bones.

You lay there for a moment, catching your breath and looking up at the dizzyingly bright stadium lights illuminating the rink, when out of the corner of your eye, you see movement.

Sighing, you take one of your earbuds out as you turn your head toward the gate. It’s Seungcheol, dressed in ratty old sweats with his hair shoved back into a beanie. He vaults over the wall easily, bypassing the gate, and jumps onto the ice. Even as the rest of your long program plays through the tinny speakers of your earbuds, you can hear the way his hockey skates shred the ice, a horrible, grating sound that sets your teeth on edge.

“What are you doing here,” you scowl, making no movement to get up. “It’s my rink time.”

“Not anymore,” Seungcheol says, coming to a stop beside you and kicking up a spray of ice. “My team’s time starts soon.”

“How has it been three hours already,” you groan, pushing yourself up to a seated position with some difficulty. Your right arm aches terribly, your ribs feel tender and sore, and you’re not quite able to suppress the wince that flashes across your face.

“Are you okay?” Seungcheol lowers himself to a squat by your side. “You took some pretty hard falls just now.”

“Obviously,” you snap. Your eyes ache and you know they're about a moment away from erupting into hot, angry tears. This is the most ambitious long program you’ve attempted— ambitious enough to take you to the world championships if you do it perfectly. Maybe it’s too ambitious, but you’re not ready to admit that. “Are you here to gloat, or what?” You turn toward him, ready to chew him out, but he doesn’t look particularly smug. Instead, he looks… worried.

“Take a break,” he orders. “No skating tomorrow.”

“You can’t order me around,” you huff, but he silences you with a sharp frown.

“Take. A. Break.” Seungcheol’s tone is steely and for a moment, just one moment, you see the leader in him that everybody talks about. The reliable Captain Seungcheol, the team’s source of strength.

You blink and the world blurs. Embarrassed, you turn your head away from him as you feel tears beading on your lashes. “I’m so close to getting it,” you choke. “If it’s not the rotations, it’s the angle. If it’s not the angle, it’s a stiff landing. I’m always just one step away, but I just can’t… get there.”

You don’t know why you’re telling this to him, a lumbering brute of a hockey player who couldn’t tell an axel from a lutz, but Seungcheol nods understandingly, and somehow, you feel like he knows.

“You just need to focus.” Seungcheol sits too, planting his butt solidly on the ice. “I know you’re capable. You know you’re capable. It’s not a matter of ability, it’s all in your head.”

“Thanks, I guess,” you mumble.

“Here.” Seungcheol takes your hand in his. You jerk your head toward him, wide-eyed and panicked as he peels the knit glove off your right hand, but then you hiss in pain as the yarn pulls away from flesh.

You’ve somehow manage to split the skin where the heel of your palm meets your wrist bone, likely when you were breaking your fall earlier, and in the adrenaline of the moment, you hadn’t even noticed it.

“I saw you bleeding,” Seungcheol murmurs quietly as he lays your palm gently in his lap. “That’s why I came out on the ice to check on you.” You watch as he pulls a small foil packet from the pocket of his sweatpants and tears it open to pull out an alcohol wipe.

Seungcheol gently cleans off your wound with the wipe, wincing too when you wince at the painful sting of the alcohol. “Sorry,” he says, apologetic, like it’s somehow his fault. “Here.” You watch as he takes out a band-aid from his pocket and carefully places it over the wound, his fingers pressing down the adhesive, impossibly gentle. You feel your skin tingle where he touched you, almost like the phantom of Seungcheol’s fingertips brushing across your palm.

“All done,” Seungcheol says, shoving the spent wrappers back into his pocket as he stands.

“Th-thank you,” you bite out. Why are your cheeks so hot when the rest of you is so cold? Your legs shake when you try to pull yourself to your feet, both from the cold and from exhaustion. You stand for a moment, thighs aching, before your knees give out and you collapse.

But instead of meeting the ice again, you feel Seungcheol’s arms around your waist, holding you up and catching you as you fall. You gasp, instinctively reaching up to cling on to him. Your fingers close on his large, firm biceps, defined even through the thick cotton of his sweatshirt, and you furiously will yourself not to think about the shape of his body.

You pull yourself up and try to take another step, but your muscles are limp and feel like they’re out of your control.

Seungcheol grins. It’s a grin that you’ve come to hate, and the next words that come out of his mouth make you hate him more. “I’ll carry you the rest of the way,” he says, cocky, confident. Just like that, the tender stillness of the moment is broken and you shove him away, slapping his shoulder in the process. Somehow, you’re grateful that the tenderness has been stripped away. It’s easier this way, this familiar antagonism, the carefully maintained distance burning between the two of you.

“Fuck off, Choi Seungcheol,” you snap as you hobble your way toward the wall, trying your best to ignore the way your legs tremble and your hip throbs in pain. “Fucking prick.”

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he calls out after you, “you’re welcome!”

You hate him, you tell yourself. You detest him. But it’s getting harder and harder to convince yourself that it’s true.

#wrote this on my phone in 30 minutes so . not the best but i couldn’t help it. eva and lily are too big brain n im in love w hockey cheol #seventeen scenarios #97.yn #97.drabbles #97.writings

[tenacious-minds]

part 1

part 2

Robin knows she's being weird. She hasn't said more than ten words, not the whole rest of their shift and not on the car ride over (even though it was silent and she hates silence, and Steve, the bastard, knows that and kept the radio off) and not now, in the backroom (read-locker room) of the middle school volunteer centre. Steve keeps shooting her these worried little glances, all small and shy with his big god-damned puppy eyes he probably knows Robin can't resist— except, in reality, he probably doesn't know, actually. Because he really just looks like that and— Alright, Buckley get your shit together.

She puts her free-for-volunteers sandwich down, not even half-finished, and doesn't even look at Steve as she says "alright, back to work!” and rushes out into the fray.

She's on food prep. (She's always on food prep. There are only so many times you can drop boxes of freshly washed and folded donated clothes or knock over piles of canned food before you get relegated to somewhere you can do very little harm. (read: behind a table with a butter knife so dull a two-year-old could handle it (and really she's probably got the grow motor skills of one))). But, her point is, she's usually on food peep, which is really just putting together far too many PB and Js and trying not to get too sticky while doing it. She doesn't really need the help. But hunched over an apparently most empty jar of Skippy, trying to pull the last dregs out from the bottom is Vicky. Which—just. Really? Genuinely, seriously. This is the card the universe is dealing her after everything else. Because she needed more panic and heartbreak. Except when she finally gets close enough for Vicky to look up and see her there, waving and smiling with a peanut-buttery knife, Robin doesn't feel, well, anything. She's an acquaintance, at best, really. Robin doesn't even know anything about her. “Hey, Robin!” She says, and steps a little further into the table island, sliding Robin a bag of sliced white and a jar of grape jelly with an already sticky knife sticking out. Robin tries not to make a face as she pinches it between two fingers, looking around for somewhere to put it and for those on so lovely rubber gloves Vicky is wearing.

“Uh, hey," She says, and she still sounds weird.

Vicky frowns a little, leaning closes, smile still edging at the corners of her lips. “How you been?" and she sounds. Eager? Curious? Robin looks up at her, settling for leaving the knife on the edge of the table, as far away from her as possible. “I'm, uh, good. I guess,” and she glances up, "Didn't know you were back.”

Vicky smiles a little tightly at that. "Yeah, I mean. You know. They're letting people come back, now. Since the damage has been contained, and the high schools reopened to finish out the year before summer."

Robin nods, turning back to her jelly, pulling two slices towards herself to start— jamming? Spreading jam? onto. Steve would probably think that's hilarious. Jamming— ha.

They make a few sandwiches, but Vicky keeps shifting, looking at her out of the corner of her eye. Robin resolutely glares at the jelly-covered bread slices.

"So like, how's it been here then?" Vicky asks, and Robin finally looks at her. Properly. Meets her eyes and really looks. She looks well-rested and clean and soft; her short fluffy hair sticking up around a pale blue headband and her lashes are blond and she's pretty. She is. Robin still definitely thinks so— except she doesn't really feel anything about it. "You stayed, right?" Vicky prompts again, and Robin nods. "Uh. Oh! yeah. yeah with- Stayed. You know. Too much here to—" She stops. "Anyway, it’s been a mess. But it's getting better, slowly." And she looks around the room, at all of Hawkins who had stayed and helped rebuild when so many of them could have just as easily left to leave those who couldn't to fend for themselves in the crumbling economy of a ghost town. She feels proud to be one of them. "You know, the school, like you said. And most of the stores downtown have reopened. Melvad’s, Family Video."

Vicky is nodding. "Yeah! I saw that on the drive in! I'm so glad." She trails off kind of awkwardly.

"Are you— I didn't see you at school at all this week,” Vicky says. "Are you coming back, do you think?'

Robin sighs and shakes her head. A lot of those of them who'd stayed had been offered an early graduation. Extra credit for volunteer work, or something. Robin had jumped at the chance, and so had Jonathan. Nancy of course, and, surprisingly, Eddie, had decided not to.

"Nah, " She says, shaking her head. "I wasn't all that interested in University anyway. College maybe, in a few years. Once things settle down.” And Steve is ready to leave, once the kids have graduated, she doesn't say, but she's looking towards where Steve has emerged from the backroom. He's still hunched in the doorway of it, and Eddie is leaning next to him, head lowered to speak to him. He looks sad. Robin... hates herself, just a little bit.

Vicky must follow her gaze because she lets out a breath it Seems like she's been holding.

“Ah," She sighs, and she looks— disappointed? "Boyfriend?" Said with a smile, but it's small and tense. Robin can't help the wince.

Once, maybe, it would have been theatrical. A whole production of disgust and ew no and platonic with a capital P except now... is he? Does she want him to be? She doesn't fucking know.

"Oh, sorry. " Vicky says, and Robin gives her an apologetic grimace. She thinks she's probably been staring at Steve with… whatever look is on her face for a while now.

"We don't have to talk about it,” Vicky says, and she's still looking at her oh my god. "But, like, if you wanted to, we can. I just broke up with my boyfriend, like, a few weeks ago so I kind of get it—" She's taking too fast, cutting herself off. It almost makes Robin smile.

"No! no. It's not, we're not—" she drags a hand down her face. To say they're not dating isn't a lie. They aren't, and they never were. But it feels disingenuous, somehow, missing this whole layer of subtext Robin has no idea what to do with. "He's my best friend," she says, and then “it's complicated.”

Vicky is flushed, now, and she's focusing very intently on her sandwiches, but she's got a very small, sad little smile on her face when she says "So, tell me about." And Robin thinks— maybe she should. Because this is someone who doesn't know her, doesn't know Steve either, really, beyond ex-king-of-Hawkins-High Steve Harrington, and peripherally as Robin’s best friend of approaching a year, now (and isn't that a trip because Robin doesn't think she a remembers a time when she didn't love Steve fucking Harrington like he was a god dammed part of her. Like losing him would he like losing a limb or- or like a vital organ. Because limbs can be replaced, with albeit lesser versions of themselves, and Robin will never find a replacement for him.) So, Robin tells her. The abridged and decidedly less explicitly queer and supernatural flowers for faces monsters exist, version, yes. But she does it. " So, let me get this right. "Vicky says, a while later. They have made approximately fifty-six sandwiches, give or take a few, because Robin had lost count for a moment there, somewhere between sandwich 37 and the way he looks in that purple sweater with the stars darned into it that she swears used to be Nancy's and it was just this side of too tight in the shoulder what the fuck Vicky, oh my god.

"You clearly have some kind of crush happening, and by the looks of it, a pretty major one, but because you, and I quote ‘didn't think he was your type’  you're just going to, what, wait and hope it goes away?"

Robin nods, pretty firmly. Because it sounds kind of stupid, out of context, but Vicky is missing the pretty pivotal piece of information that she is a lesbian, which has been a cornerstone of her identity for three years now, and really, she can't understand how—

"Robin," Vicky says, and okay maybe based on the look she's giving her right now she does actually understand what Robin is trying to say (and really, fuck Steve and his weirdly accurate Fast Times’ based predictions for being totally spot on, what the fuck?) Vicky is still talking.

“- totally ridiculous. Like, first of all, you can like whoever you want. I know high school and—and this town— kind of install a certain order to things in you, like hating… jocks. But obviously, he’s your best friend, and he's clearly, like, super important to you. And. That shit’s like, fluid. Right? Attraction? It makes sense that you have feelings for him." (and if that a waving flag. Fluid. Fucking Steve)

"So like, it's dumb." She continues "To keep yourself from it because you're afraid to break out of this notion of the ideal you had of yourself."

She's stopped making sandwiches now (59 and counting) and she's looking right at Robin, meeting her eyes. And Robin lets her, because this feels too important, too charged, to look away from.

She feels shaky, a little bit like she's losing her mind. 

"I think," She says taking a deep breath, "what I'm really afraid of, is to lose him. Because, what if I'm wrong? What if I’m wrong, and I don't and I hurt him? And then what if I lose him? Because I really don't think I would survive that, honestly," And she can feel her tears spilling over now. And Vicky is carefully pulling off her gloves and then Robin’s, and pulling her into a hug— and that's fine right? Because 60 sandwiches is plenty, and. Oh, it's getting dark, actually.

"Oh, Robin" Vicky sighs, squeezing her tight enough to hurt, a little, before pulling back, arms still clasped in her hands, forearms overlapping.

"And you haven’t talked to him about any of this? Because -"

“No! No, I couldn't"

"Robin, because I think you really need to. You said you think he feels the same?" And she does. She isn't entirely sure he ever really stopped but, but maybe that's just. He looks at Nancy the same way, and even Jonathan, she thinks, sometimes, so she doesn't know— And that’s not even the point. Because even if he does, that’s almost worse.

“Robin," Vicky says, and there's this soft, maybe amused, almost fond, tone in her voice.

"Robin. Talk to him. Even if it's not, like, about him, although I think you should do that too. But, worst case, he rejects you. You guys have survived that before. And you'll feel better. Having talked to him.” And she hugs her again, and Robin can feel it all right there, in the base of her throat and oh god they're in public. In the middle of Hawkins fucking middle school gymnasium and Robin is crying over her not-very-lesbian crush on her best friend.

So she squeezes Vicky extra tight and says “You too, you know. All of that. About liking whoever you want. You too." Just in case she's right. And Vicky is laughing and pulling away and nodding, saying "I know,” before tilting her head to the side, nodding to where Steve is anxiously hovering near the edge of the table, wringing his hands.

"Oh!" Robin says smiling and scrubbing at her face, “Stevie! Hi!" and she’s genuinely so happy to see him— he fills this place in her heart nothing ever has before. Makes it glow all warm and bright. Like home. He relaxes a bit at her smile, reaching for her, remembering the table at the last minute, and simply moving it to the side instead of just going around like a normal person. Vicky giggles.

"Rob-" Steve says, and Robin sighs and smiles while he very gently puts his hands on her face, rubbing away her tears with the calloused pads of his thumbs.

"Stevie" Robin repeats, and she still sounds kinda watery. She reaches up to grasp at his forearms. "I'm good, really. I think I'm just tired, you know?” and quieter “nightmares.”

He pets her face and it makes her want to cry more. Makes her want to lean into him and just melt there. “And I still kind of have a headache. Can we—”

“Yeah. " he says "Yeah, of course. I'm taking you home. " He turns to Vicky, "that okay? I can get you someone to cover-” But Vicky waves it away.

"Just clean up, now. Don't worry about it. Take her home." And then behind Steve's back, when he's turned back around, she gives Robin a thumbs up.

Steve keeps Robin pressed close to him for the entirety of the walk to the car, it's almost awkward to take full steps, but Robin lets herself lean into it.

#my writing #i posted it on ao3 and then immediately changed my mind #itll go up when it's finished as one or two chapters #sorry y'all #I dislike fic with super short chapters and it factors into whether I read something so idk why I would do it myself #Stobin #transfem nb Steve Harrington #stranger things

[twst-the-night-away]

Meet Savvy LaPerle, an ambitious little Pomefiore who's out to catch herself a man and take over the family business.

At least, that's what she starts out after. She has some growing to do.

[ Savvy sprite by by @comingyourlugubriousness ]

Savvy is the younger daughter of the LaPerle family, who have owned a prestigious cosmetics line for generations. Her sweet exterior belies a sharp and scheming mind, full of new ideas. She always relishes the moments when she gets to show up someone who’s underestimated her. She can see the beauty in just about anything, even when other people think it’s ugly.

And she's ever so pleased to meet you, sugar.

More info below!

[ full sprite ]

[ drawing by @briarrosescurse ]

Dorm: Pomefiore

Grade/Class: Freshman/Class D

Birthday: February 13 (Aquarius)

Age: 16

Height: 165 cm/5’5”

Dominant Hand: Right

Homeland: Port o’Bliss

Club: Science Club

Best Subjects: Potionology, Practical Magic

Worst Subject: Animal Linguistics

Hobbies: Growing exotic plants, Magicam

Pet Peeves: Laziness, people not taking care of themselves

Favorite Food: Bread pudding

Least Favorite Food: Asparagus

Talents: Making cosmetics & perfumes, decorating, etiquette

Physical Description: Long wavy blond hair with pink ombre, often with a headband that matches her dorm color. Bright blue eyes with long lashes. Peaches and cream complexion. Average height, with a cute hourglass figure. She’s almost always wearing pearl drop earrings.

Uniforms: In her regular uniform, Savvy wears her jacket unbuttoned and has her tie in a bow. She wears flats with ankle straps, and short white socks. For PE, she wears her uniform zipped halfway up with long sleeves. Her hair is tied back and she wears a sporty headband. In Crewel’s classes, she wears her coat buttoned, her goggles on her face, and her hair tied back. When she’s in her ceremonial robes, she keeps her hood up, and wears red lipstick and nail polish. Her dorm uniform is the same as the boys’, except she has a lacy Peter Pan-style collar instead of the high sharp one the boys wear. She wears a red ribbon headband when she’s in her dorm uniform.

Floyd’s Nickname: Moon Jelly

Rook’s Nickname: La princesse parfumée

Special Magic: None yet.

Twisted From: Charlotte La Bouff (the untapped potential she had for villainry - her older sister Caroline is twisted from the sweet one we’re familiar with and was a Royal Sword student)

Relationships

[ These will change as needed, but here's what I have so far! ]

OC Friends: Joker, Mia, Sia (@twstinginthewind), Adrian (@oseathepebble), Carol Ann (@fumikomiyasaki), Rose (@atwstedstory), Danica, Farron (@jasmariswonderland), Kei (@vaporvipermedia)

Canon Friends: Cater, Rook, Kalim, Epel

Respects/Admires: Azul, Vil, Malleus, Sabrina (@the27th)

Avoids: Leona

Avoided By: Leona, Jamil

Potential Ships: Cater (main ship), Rook, Kalim, Damien (@oseathepebble), Damon (@fumikomiyasaki)

Character Opinions

Housewarden: Savvy has a deep respect for Vil, and knows how to compliment him without it sounding hollow. Vil knows Savvy has potential, so he may push her a little more than he pushes others. He won’t allow her to coast on her talents. He expects her to improve, even if she starts at a higher level than some other students. Savvy’s mother was a supermodel Vil admired when he was younger, so he knows what she’s capable of.

Dormmates: In a way, Savvy understands Rook - she, too, can find beauty in a lot of things, and it’s easy to get excited about it. He also helped her a lot in learning how to study when she first came to NRC and bumped up against the “gifted kid has to work hard for the first time in her life” experience. She doesn’t go ‘hunting’ like he does, but she does like to take pictures for her Magicam. Savvy thinks Epel is just plain adorable, but the first time she called him ‘sweetie’, he told her not to, and she respected that. They’re going to become friends and rivals. When they reach junior year, they’re going to be constantly outdoing each other creating poisons, and the housewarden position will bounce back and forth between them a few times. Eventually, Epel’s going to win out, but Savvy makes a good right hand woman.

Clubmates: Savvy is in the Science Club with Rook and Trey. We've seen her Rook opinions. She thinks Trey is a decent fellow.

Crowley: Gotta play nice with the headmage and compliment him when you can, Savvy knows how the game is played. Crowley’s easily swayed by her flattery - and grateful for her family’s donations, too.

Trein: Struggled in his classes a lot at first. Her absolute disaster of a first Animal Linguistics test was one of the things that made Savvy realize that she wasn’t going to get by with her usual coasting.

Crewel: Savvy started out as one of Crewel’s favorite pets. Potions, herbology, and alchemy come to her easily, and she enjoys them, too. She was rather smug about it. But the high didn’t last. Soon, Crewel started to expect more of her, and now she has to work harder to meet expectations.

Vargas: Savvy doesn’t mind exercising, but does he have to be so intense? Ugghh. She’s okay at flight, but she’d rather not run around too much.

Sam: Sometimes, when Savvy’s feeling particularly homesick, she goes to the school shop to buy a little something even when she doesn’t need it, just so she can chat for a bit with someone who sounds like home. The LaPerle family is well-known in Port o’Bliss, so Sam calls her “little lady” instead of “little imp”.

History

Savvy is the younger daughter of JL and Angeline LaPerle. JL is the fifth-generation owner of the LaPerle cosmetics company, and Angeline is a semi-retired supermodel who was featured in many a LaPerle campaign. Savvy and her sister, Caroline, grew up in the lap of luxury. Their parents both doted on them and spoiled them, but there were also a lot of rules they had to follow for no other reason but “because you’re a girl, girls do this, girls don’t do that”. Savvy, who loved to play outside in the mansion’s huge garden and watch the little creatures that she could find there, had a harder time with those rules than her sister did.

As they both got older, Savvy noticed that there were some differences in how boys reacted to her and to Caroline. For example, when a boy struck up a conversation with her at a garden party at the mansion, she started excitedly sharing about the plants she’d been growing. When Caroline arrived, all laughter and fluffy chit-chat, she was the one who got asked to dance. Having observed this, Angeline gently took Savvy aside and told her that “boys don’t always like it when a girl’s too smart”. This gave Savvy a conflict, because she wanted to learn about things, but she also wanted to be liked. She started watching Caroline and her mother more closely, and imitating their sweet surface-level social interactions. She never lost interest in plants and what she could do with them, but … well, there were reasons why she wanted to make sure boys liked her.

The main reason came about when Savvy was thirteen and Caroline was seventeen, JL sat down and had a talk with them about the future of the family. Since he only had daughters, and he wanted the LaPerle company to stay in the family, he told Savvy and Caroline that the company would be inherited by the first one of them to get married. Also, he and Angeline both continually stressed that they needed to marry a good man - one who had value and wealth of his own, who wouldn’t just be looking to coast by on the LaPerle fortune.

Savvy loves her sister, but she knows that Caroline is also very trusting, and believes in the good in people. She’s noticed things about others that Caroline hasn’t, and has even quietly helped her out of a bad situation a time or two when she couldn’t tell that someone was being shady. She’s afraid that Caroline might end up trusting someone who’d be out to harm her, or the family. So, Savvy made up her mind then and there that she had to get married before Caroline did.

She helped things along a little by making sure Caroline found her sniffling and crying soon after that conversation. When she told Caroline that she was sure she’d never be able to get married before her, her soft-hearted sister made a promise that she would wait until Savvy graduated high school before looking for a husband. And this is why Savvy is on the hunt as soon as she gets to NRC. She has four years to find the ideal partner, hook him, and make him propose. Angeline’s taught both her daughters about using feminine charms and subtle manipulations to get someone to do what they want. How hard can it be, anyway? Surely nothing will go wrong with this plan.

(Focusing on the plan and scoping out the available guys are another reason why Savvy’s grades suffer so much at first. Something’s going to happen in her freshman year that’ll make her throw that plan out the window. What that actually is … hasn’t been decided yet.)

Actions During the Story

Prologue: Savvy was very upset that the ceremony was ruined by that weird little creature setting everything on fire. She was also shocked to hear how Epel talked to Vil. Shocked, I say.

Book 1: Savvy didn’t notice what was going on until her friends Joker and Violetta suddenly had these weird collars on their necks. When she heard from them about Riddle’s rampage, she started to think that maybe it wasn’t so bad being under Vil’s wing after all.

Book 2: Savvy heard gossip about guys getting injured left and right, but it wasn’t something she looked into too much. She and the Sealponte sisters had an iced coffee stand in the concession area. It got wrecked during the stampede.

Book 3: Savvy was tempted to get help from Azul, but a conversation with Rook encouraged her to work it out herself. She formed a little study group with some of her friends. She didn’t come out with stellar grades, but they were the best she’d made so far - she ended up in the top 30% when she’d just barely been under 50% before.

Book 4: Savvy went back to Port o’Bliss for the winter holiday. She didn’t know anything about what happened in Scarabia until she came back and heard about it. Kalim got so many hugs.

Book 5: Savvy auditioned for the SDC, but didn’t get in. She spent a lot of time working on club exhibits, so she missed out on a lot of the drama around the practice. Most of what she heard came from Kalim.

Why Pomefiore?: Savvy needs to work hard and refine her talents instead of coasting on what she already has. She needs to rely on herself and what she can do rather than pinning all her hopes on marriage.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst #twst oc #daisy's ocs #savvy laperle

[thelemontree]

Taste (Will Miller x Reader)

Pairing: Will Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Will surprises you in the shower.

Word count: 1.7k

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: established relationship, explicit language, shower sex, oral sex (f receiving, v brief m receiving), vaginal fingering, biting/marking, finger sucking, light body worship, I think that's it

A/N: omg TWO fics in TWO days?! who am i, this has never happened before LMAO. again, this is all porn, no plot. I saw this & my brain went haywire. i know it's late but i wanted to get it out tonight lol, happy International Women's Day babes <3

Masterlist | AO3

Your eyes were shut and your head was tipped back into the water when the shower door slid open.

Even though there was only one person it could’ve been—and you knew, in the back of your mind—that it was him, the noise still startled you. Your eyes shot open as you jumped in surprise, one of your hands covering your hammering heart as you let out an undignified squeak.

“Jesus, Will! You scared the crap out of me!”

He let out a low chuckle as he stepped into the shower with you, closing the glass door behind him. “Sorry babe,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist as he stepped under the spray of the water. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Thought you heard me.”

You huffed playfully at him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He leaned down to kiss you softly, his hands sliding up your sides, his movements guided by the water on your skin. His thumbs grazed the sides of your breasts before sliding behind and up your back, pulling you flush against him. You sighed into the kiss, your lips falling open against his, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth.

Your nails lightly scratched at the back of his neck before working your fingers up into his short-cropped hair. You used your grip on his hair to deepen the kiss further, consumed by the need to have him as close to you as possible. Even though your body was already completely flush against his, it still didn’t feel like enough.

When he pulled away, you couldn’t help the whine of protest you let out. He ignored you, though, moving his lips across your cheek and down the side of your neck. He walked you backward as he kissed and nipped at your skin. He sucked at the spot just beneath your ear that always turned your legs to jelly at the same time your back connected with the cold wall of the shower. You gasped at both sensations, your back arching, trying to push yourself further into him.

Will continued his path down your body, sucking at the base of your throat before moving onto your chest. He cupped your tits in his hands, pushing them together as he placed wet, open-mouthed kisses to the swells of them. He looked up at you through his lashes, his eyes dark with lust, as he bent and took your right nipple into his mouth.

Your mouth fell open in a soft moan as he swirled it with his tongue, his eyes never leaving yours. He took the stiff peak in between his teeth and bit down gently, tugging on it before he released it and sucked it in between his lips. One of your hands was fisted in his hair, the other gripping his shoulder, your nails leaving indents in his skin.

He released your right nipple and moved onto the left one, giving it the same treatment. You sighed at the feeling of his mouth on you, your head falling back against the tile as your eyes fluttered shut. He pulled off your nipple with a soft pop and nipped at the skin on the side of your breast. Your eyes shot open and looked down at him in confusion.

“Ow. What was that for?”

He smirked at you and kissed the spot where he bit you. “Eyes open, baby. I want you to watch. Can you do that for me?”

Your breath caught in your throat, but you nodded yes, keeping your eyes open and on him.

Carefully, Will sank down to his knees in front of you, the water from the showerhead cascading down his back. Your eyes stayed locked on his as he gripped your sides and placed kisses all over your stomach. He moved onto your hips, his lips and tongue seemingly tracing every inch of your skin. His hands slid down and behind your body and he palmed your ass before giving your flesh a tight squeeze. You bit your lip as one of his hands went down even further, taking hold of the back of your thigh and slowly lifting it up over his shoulder.

Spread open for him, he turned his head and placed a soft kiss on the crease of your knee. His mouth moved upwards, kissing and nipping at the soft skin of your inner thigh. He took his time trailing up towards your center, which was wet and aching for him. He kept his eyes on yours the entire time.

By the time his mouth was hovering over your pussy, you felt like you might cum without him even touching you. You wouldn’t have to, though, because if the look in his eyes was any indication, his slow exploration of your body had him just as worked up as you.

With his eyes still on yours, Will leaned forward and licked a long, languid stripe up from your wet entrance to your clit. You moaned loudly at the feeling, the sound reverberating off of the shower walls. He groaned into your center as the taste of your slick hit his tongue, and that seemed to knock him out of the teasing mood he’d been in. With both of his hands back on your ass, he tugged you forward until your cunt was flush to his face.

“Fuck, Will, that feels so good,” you whined, the hand in his hair trying to tug him impossibly closer to you. His tongue swirled around your entrance before he shoved it inside, coating the muscle in your arousal. He fucked you with it, his nose bumping into your clit with every swipe of his tongue inside of you.

You tried your best to keep your eyes on his just like he asked, but the frantic way he was fucking you with his mouth was nearly too much to handle. Your vision was hazy with pleasure and you couldn’t help it when your eyes fluttered shut. It didn’t seem to matter, though—Will was too lost in the pleasure he was getting from eating you out to even care.

You whined when he pulled his tongue out of you and moved up to swirl at your clit. One of his hands moved from your ass down to your pussy, the tips of two of his fingers gently teasing your entrance before pushing all the way inside. You cried out, your back arching off the shower wall before falling back against it with a soft thud. He curled his fingers to hit your sweet spot just right at the same time he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Will,” you moaned out, forcing your eyes open to look at him. The sight of him on his knees before you, completely lost in the act of eating your pussy, made the coil in your belly tighten even further.

He pulled off of your clit with a lewd pop as he pumped his fingers into you even faster. He met your eyes as he said, “You taste so fucking good. I want you to cum on my face, baby.”

You whined at words and nodded, too far gone to give him a verbal reply. His mouth returned to your clit, his tongue moving around it in tight circles as he added a third finger inside of your pussy.

“Fuck!” You wailed when his fingers found your sweet spot and pressed on it. He kept his fingers there, the pressure almost too much. You could feel your orgasm building and building, and when he wrapped his lips around your clit and gave it one final, harsh suck, the dam inside of you burst.

You came with a loud cry of Will’s name, the walls of your pussy contracting almost violently around his fingers. He worked you through it, pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly as he softly licked at your clit. His actions prolonged your release, making you whimper and your hips buck against his face.

He only pulled away when you tugged at his hair, pulling his face away from your aching, sensitive cunt. He slowly pulled his fingers out of your pussy and gave your clit a soft kiss as he stood back up on his feet.

Towering over you, his gaze held yours as he brought his fingers up to your lips. He smeared your slick around your bottom lip before working all three of his fingers into your mouth, groaning softly as you began to suck them clean. You worked your tongue all around and between them, the tangy taste of your release and Will’s skin flooding your mouth.

When he was satisfied that you’d cleaned his fingers thoroughly, he pulled them out of your mouth and leaned down to kiss you. His tongue slipped into your mouth as his hands cupped your jaw, holding you in place for him to taste as he pleased. He pulled away and gave you one final peck before he moved away from you to turn the shower off.

He helped you step out of the shower and he silently dried you off, taking care to run the towel over every inch of your skin. You watched him work with a fond smile on your face. He was a caretaker through and through, which was one of the things you loved most about him. When he handed you another towel for your hair, he made quick work of drying himself off.

Once the pair of you were dried, you took Will’s hand in yours and pulled him out of the bathroom and into your shared bedroom. He watched you curiously as you guided him to your bed and gently nudged him to sit on the edge. You stepped in between his legs, taking his face in your hands as his hands found their place on your hips. You leaned down and pressed a soft, loving kiss to his lips before pulling away and sinking to your knees in front of him.

He smirked down at you and cupped your cheek in one of his large hands. You nuzzled it and turned to place a kiss in the center of his palm. You looked back up at him as you brought one of your hands up to grasp his hard cock. He inhaled sharply as you began to languidly stroke his length.

“You got your taste,” you said, bringing your mouth to the tip of his cock. Your tongue snaked out to lick at the precum that had been steadily pooling there, moaning softly at the taste of it. “Now it’s my turn.”

And with that, you got to work.

#will miller x reader #will miller x you #william ironhead miller #william ironhead miller x reader #charlie hunman #charlie hunnam character fanfiction #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction

[milkybonya]

our cassette

order 042, anon: large taro milk tea with mango jelly, strawberry popping boba and mochi for optional male bias

warnings: suggestive !

summary: your slight badboy!boyfriend who's a drummer teaches you how to play, but things take another turn instead !

[a/n]: i know the request was for a large (1k+) but i don't think i can manage that right now but i still really wanted to write it >.< i hope the anon who requested this so long ago can still find it and enjoy it, even if it's short <3

"is there a certain way to hold the sticks, or?" you ask your boyfriend, whose black leather-covered thighs you're sitting in between at his drumset.

"well... i guess? you just figure it out as you learn," he tells you, squeezing your hands as they hold his drumsticks, urging you to relax.

"a basic beat looks a bit like this. you hit the bass drum with your foot in 4/4 time... yeah, that's right!"

you smile as he compliments you, trying to learn as he teaches you the drums.

someone walks into the music practice room looking for something, not realizing the two of you are in there.

"ah--sorry!" they exclaim, stepping back out.

"you looking for something?" your boyfriend asks them before they can shut the door.

"y-yeah," they stutter.

most people on campus are quite scared of your boyfriend. he has a very cold image and did get into fights a lot before you started dating him. knowing you don't like him getting hurt, he stays away from fights now, though.

"come grab it and head out quick," your boyfriend tells them.

the person scurries in and heads for a bin full of cassette tapes. rustling around, they find what they wanted and leave.

"they didn't even clean up," your boyfriend sighs at the mess, giving your shoulders a squeeze before he heads towards the cassettes to clean it.

he's super passionate about the music practice room, and it makes your heart all fuzzy.

"oh!" he exclaims, catching your attention.

he's frozen in place, one tape in his hands.

"what is it?" you ask, approaching him.

"it's the song cover i recorded to get into the music program here... why do they still have it? and it's in here of all places..."

"i wanna hear it!"

"no."

he buries the cassette down at the bottom of the bucket and attempts to put it away, but you latch onto him and the bucket, wriggling around so much that the bucket spills out of your and your boyfriend's grips, and you fall on top of him.

his chest moves up and down, tired from having wrestled with you.

"why're you staring at my lips?" he asks, leaning in closer to your face, "when you could just kiss them?"

not even giving you a second to hesitate, he leans in and closes the gap himself, immediately pressing your body more tightly onto his with his free hand, as the other gently holds the back of your head.

out of breath, you pull away and whine at him to stop distracting you and play the cassette already.

"it'll kill the mood," he says, pressing his forehead to yours.

"no... i wanna hear it," you beg.

he gives in with a sigh, putting it in the player and watching your face break out into a smile as you hear a younger version of your boyfriend singing his favourite song.

"so back then you sang... you didn't play drums?"

"to get into this college, i had to record myself singing. i don't even know why.."

"you did well!" you compliment him and he smirks, pulling you closer as you both sit on the floor.

"would you let me do well with something else, too?" he asks, lashes fluttering down at you.

"and what's that?"

he doesn't answer your question but simply kisses you.

#optional bias #optional male bias #optional bias scenarios #optional male bias scenarios #optional bias imagines #optional male bias imagines #optional bias fluff #optional male bias fluff #optional bias x reader #optional male bias x reader #kpop fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop au #suggestive au #kpop drabbles

[ghostlykeyes]

Kishibe n denji kink headcanons? Your blog is giving justice 🙏

I'll serve justice like Judy, on god🙏

<PLS NOTE: 18+ Denji portrayed here. Also, one boob-centric HC for Denji, but the rest are GN/body neutral>

Kishibe

While he's not exactly into being dominated, per se, Kishibe likes a partner that can put him in his place. Nothing gets him going quite like if you've got a little spunk. Whether you wrestle him off when he tries to pin you down, flipping the tables so that you've got his wrists caught in your hand, or you're nipping at his lips as he tries to take over your mouth, if you show Kishibe you give as good as you get he's instantly hardening. It just makes it all the sweeter when he's got you on your knees whining for him, perfectly tamed like the sweet little pet he knows you are.

Usually sex ends up with him toying with you, as previously mentioned, but even Kishibe acknowledges he's getting older and sometimes it's just nice not to have to do anything. Kishibe loves stretching out with a glass of whiskey on-the-rocks and watching you ride him until you're a dripping mess. If you're good, he rewards you with a firm smack on your ass, but otherwise he sits back and lets you pleasure yourself on him.

Calling him 'master' or 'sir' is a guaranteed way to get Kishibe fired up. He loves when you look up through your lashes, eyes half lidded with desire all for him, and moan those sweet words. Every time he hears it he rewards you with a rough-around-the-edges moan against your ear and a hard thrust that makes your knees turn into jelly.

Kishibe has a major thing for thongs. If you pair it with a skirt that's just a little too short and just happen to bend over in front of him, you can bet you're going to be bent over the nearest flat surface within thirty seconds. He loves when you wear a thong, but he loves tugging it to the side and slipping into you even more.

Kishibe loves when you beg for him. He rarely slips inside you unless you've been whining for it first, on the edge and feeling like you need him so bad you might just break down in tears if he doesn't fill you up with his cock soon. It's a huge ego boost, and for a man that's generally disinterested in most things, your pleading, needy voice is his favorite aphrodisiac.

Denji

Years of raging hormones bottled up with nowhere to go have turned Denji into quite the voyeur. If he can sneak a peek of you while you're naked, he won't hesitate to hide around a corner. If he catches you changing, or even better, touching yourself (bonus points if your name slips out of his lips during the process) he gets an instant boner. His favorite place to spy on you, though, is the shower. And, if he's absolutely sure you won't catch him rifling through your laundry basket, he snags the still-warm underwear you just mixed in with your dirty laundry. Denji gives them a deep inhale and then stashes them in his pocket for...later use. (You might not be seeing that pair of underwear again.)

Unsurprisingly, Denji's a tits-man and he absolutely worships yours. Every time your shirt is off, he's either grabbing your breasts or smooshing his face in between them. If you let him fuck your chest, he will be in heaven.

Denji loves to be soft-dommed. Put your fingers in his mouth, tug lightly on his hair, ask him whose good boy are you; anything like this will make Denji's brain near explode. He adores when you take the lead and show him things he's only ever seen in dirty magazines. His favorite way to be dominated is when you ride him rough and fast—he won't last long if you push him back by his shoulders and climb on top of him.

If you ever mention bringing food into the bedroom Denji's instantly sold. Food and sex? Shit, that's his two favorite things! Drip chocolate sauce over your chest and he practically attacks you, licking and slurping the sweetness off your skin with an almost frenzied enthusiasm. Make a trail of whipped cream down your stomach and he'll happily lap it up all the way til the end; and give you some attention while he's down there, too, of course.

Denji goes wild for phone sex. It's a little difficult for him to keep his cool enough to play along and match your pace; but he loves hearing your voice, low and seductive, through the receiver, describing all the ways you're touching yourself. As you tell him how much you wish he was here, he's quickly pulling his dick out of his pants and rubbing himself to the sound of your voice. Before long, Denji's cumming over his hand—and he can't wait to get you all to himself in person again.

#chainsaw man/reader #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man headcanons #denji x reader #denji/reader #chainsaw man #kishibe x reader #kishibe/reader #NSFT

[m-jelly]

hi as someone who is in love with this account -def not checking for updates every hour- i want to request a levi x fem reader who is short-tempered like get easily annoyed and angry about anything i thought they would have a funny relationship cause levi is kinda bold and literally makes comments that can be annoying thx if you appreciate and write this love u bye <3

Aww! Bless you! I want to give you the biggest cuddle <3 This took me a bit to get this as I am the most chill person you'll meet. I can count on one hand the number of times I was angry last year. The same applies to the year before. It's so odd, I just don't get angry, but if I do my friends are so scared. Angry Jelly is a scary Jelly. haha

I'm going to do this as headcanons, hope that's alright?

Levi x short-tempered fem reader headcanons.

Levi is known for his strange words, sharp tongue and honesty. So, what would he be like if his lover was short-tempered?

- Supportive = He'd be supportive of you. He'd help you in times when you lose your temper a little and snap at others. You're his little angry kitty cat, so of course, he'd be there for you. He would find it a little cute how you lash out a little, like a cat bapping its paw on someone's head or face.

- Tea = As someone with a short temper, you get a little tired. Being angry so easily is rather draining on the body. So, Levi would provide you with the right tea to keep you energised and awake. He's got to take care of his angry little brat.

- Head pats = Sometimes you can get angry for no reason, it happens to the best of us, but Levi would calm you easily. Levi would pat your head, ruffle your hair or place his hand on your head just to calm you. Just feeling his touch is enough to make you feel at peace.

- Hugs = When a head pat is not enough, he'd just hold you in his arms and not say a thing. Kill the anger with love. He won't say he loves you often, but he'd hold you so tightly that you'd just feel the love and feel better. It'd be tightly too, mainly to stop you from hitting anyone.

- Kisses = When you are ready to rant, or someone has really pissed you off due to them winding you up, Levi has to pull out all the stops. He would kiss your forehead to stop you in your tracks. Levi's kiss just stops you in your tracks and makes it all better. Kissing you on the lips is big weapon against you. Taming the angry kitten is hard, but a lovely kiss works.

- I love you = When all else fails, he says he loves you because he does. He adores you to death and nothing makes him happier and smile than you getting a little angry. You're not dangerous, you're just a tiny bit deadly. His words just remind you that it's okay and no matter what you say to others and how pouty you get, he fucking loves you.

- Teasing/winding up = He might love you and try to soothe you, but sometimes he just has to wind you up so you lose your shit. He doesn't do it to laugh at you, he does it because you remind him so much of a cute annoyed cat. He just can't help but tease you so you get a little angry. You're adorable.

- Letting you vent = He likes seeing you stand up for yourself, so he won't get involved unless you ask him to. He'll just let you do your own thing, he'd watch you as you stand up for yourself and then praise you afterwards for being so strong.

Levi would love you no matter what. You're precious to him, so if you do snap easily or if you are the calmest person in the world, he'd love you. He'd always love you for everything you are. You're his precious little brat.

#aot levi #levi #fanfic #levi fanfiction #levi ackerman #aot fanfiction #snk levi #levi x y/n #levi x you #aot x you #captain levi #levi headcanons #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x reader #aot fluff

[deceitful-darlings]

I feel like fae-fear mc au could get incesty very quick. Either with Lillia initiating it or one of the 3 boy’s developing first and acting upon on it with Lillia finding out and going “oops you invoked this in him and now the rest of my sons want to fuck you there adopted sister so now you gotta take responsibility!”

And it can range from Lillia initiating first by whisking you away to “discipline” you. When you act like a brat on especially bad days Lillia just smiles and excuses him and you away. You are unseen until the next morning with bite marks, tear marks, black and blue bruises. Silver had to be extra careful when carrying you too classes, since your whole back side aches.

With one of the boys I’m either thinking Silver or Sebek. You mentioned how Silver was clingy to fae-fear mc, well I imagine he slipped himself into her bed or he just dragged hers too his and they both knocked out. Silver wakes up and stares, taking in the sleeping face, when his heart begins too beat and his sick hardens at a sudden thought; What would your face look like if he pleasures you right now?

He shivers but tosses the thought away from his head. You are family now. Lillia adopted you and he is your older brother. Is what he tries too tell himself but the other part of him justifies that it’s ok, you are not related by blood and you never grew up with him! He thinks about this until his mind is once again reeled back into slumber…

The second is Sebek being ordered to pin fae-fear mc down during a fit and his dick accidentally rubs them while he’s yelling at them. But he actually freezes like a statue when his dick touched you, and he’s sweating as he stares at your face. Your tears and snot going down your reddened face as you flutter your pretty lashes up at him. You look so vulnerable and small….

I just imagine tho all 3 of Lillia’s boys fucking mc as he watches in a chair and instructs them on what to do.

TW: Stepcest/incest NSFW-ish

Lilia’s just had enough, you fight him so often on the simplest of tasks, always insisting you’re not a child and that you don’t need his help on any of it. Well, if you’re not a child, then he isn’t going to punish you like one. You’re an adult, right? An adult that isn’t his daughter as you keep saying. Then you can face the punishment of a woman for your transgressions. How long will it be before you’re begging him for mercy, how many hours can you face locked inside that room with him, a little human like you with a timeless fae like him. He doesn’t go easy on you, it wouldn’t be a punishment otherwise, he allows you to feel his true strength, just short of breaking your delicate bones. By the time he’s finished you can’t even cry out another apology, throat shredded from hours of doing so already.

He leaves you there, the final part of your punishment as he strokes your hair and reminds you that this is your fault, leaving the room barely a minute after. You, on the other hand, don’t have the strength to move, let alone stand. Every inch of your body aches, bruises and bitemarks cover you, your legs feel like jelly. You want to clean yourself, scrub the sweat from your skin, the seed from between your legs, to scrub yourself raw to try and get rid of this feeling of disgust, but you just don’t have the strength.

It’s Silver who looks after you in the aftermath, finding you a little while later. He bundles you into the covers, the material not doing a lot for your modesty as you don’t have the strength to support it above your chest, it slipping to part and reveal parts of your skin to him. His cheeks flush, not that you have the energy to notice, and that flush only gets stronger as he has to help you dress. He tends to you for the whole day, carrying you so you don’t have to use your legs, feeding you by hand to preserve your strength, he does so for days, even when you’ve started to feel better.

He does eventually let you begin to do things again, but after a week or so of not doing any of it, you find yourself tired out by the evening, falling asleep sat in the living area. Not that he minds, scooping you into his arms and taking you back to your room. Just as he had the first few days, he slips in beside you. Just in case you have an issue, he tells himself. But his mind keeps wandering back to the first day he cared for you, your body barely concealed by that blanket, your tired eyes as you unconsciously nuzzled into him for comfort, it’s a sight he can’t forget no matter how hard he tries. He’s told himself it’s wrong, that you’re family now...but father had done so, hadn’t he? Would it really be so terrible for him to touch you the way father had and see that side of you?

Sebek on the other hand is just full of rage. He gets angry at you regularly, he just can’t accept how disrespectful you are to Lilia! He’s brought you into his family out of the goodness of his heart and yet you dare the speak to him the way you do?! You sometimes even ignore him let’s just ignore the fact you’re shaking in fear!

So when he’s ordered to pin you down during a fit so that you don’t break anything, he doesn’t hesitate to do so. He does so with more force than is needed, his hands gripping you tightly, his knee pressing into you to force you into stillness, but he gets too close. In your thrashing, your skirt had hiked up your leg, revealing an indecent amount of your thigh. And he brushes against it, even through his trousers he can feel the warmth of the plush skin, and he becomes acutely aware of your heaving chest, your tear stained face, your hiccups for breath. God, you’re so small under him, dwarfed by his hulking frame, it was so easy to pin you down and leave you helpless to him...

Of course, Lilia isn’t blind. The way Silver’s eyes trail after you, the way Sebek stares and turns red, only to hide his feelings behind anger, and he can’t leave Malleus out, he needs to learn how to pleasure a woman after all. Family bonding time takes on a whole new meaning as you’re stripped down in front of the fireplace, a smirk on Lilia’s face as you try and cover yourself, reminding you to behave yourself and follow his orders.

#fae fearing mc #tw: stepcest #diasomnia #yandere #yandere male #twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #yandere lilia #yandere lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge #yandere silver #silver #sebek #yandere sebek #yandere sebek zigvolt #twisted wonderland sebek #twst sebek #sebek zigvolt #yandere malleus draconia #malleus #malleus draconia #anon asks #anon ideas

[knifefather]

Mmmm you gotta do a scenario on helping Riz with those poor heavy breeder balls 🥴 I bet he'd appreciate you laving your tongue all over them and sucking his balls and his cock so thoroughly his legs turn to jelly

dI meannn Ris does have the biggest, juiciest balls of Passione so 👀 It is my duty to write about them! And I apologize that it took so long for me to fill this request. I hope that the wait was worth it!

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: messy blowjobs, size kink, established relationship. 18+ only 

Risotto hasn't gotten a nut in weeks.

He recently returned back to Napoli after carrying out a particularly difficult assassination. The capo had a difficult time tracking the target due to their powerful stand and an even tougher time getting the blood stains out of his clothes after he was done with them. Oh well. Wearing all black has its perks.

Risotto was gone for approximately 21 days. The bastard really gave him a run for his money, because Risotto hasn't had a chase like that in a very long time. It was challenging for sure, but nothing he couldn't handle. What he couldn't handle, though, was going so long getting a nut. He was on high alert for several days on end, and you just don't have time for that kind of stuff when you're stalking a drug lord Stand user.

Risotto did nothing but sleep after he got back. He was excited to see you, his partner, once again, but his excitement was overpowered by exhaustion. After reuniting with you, he stumbled into the bedroom and crawled into bed. And that is where he stayed, asleep. You woke him up periodically to feed him, but otherwise, you watched over him while he rested. After a few days, Risotto seemed to wake for good. You were coincidentally in the bedroom at that time, quietly putting away laundry. He groaned and slowly sat up in the bed, one of his huge hands coming up to run the sleep out of his eyes. 

“Hey, baby,” you greet, finishing hanging up a shirt in the closet. 

“Hey,” he croaks back. 

“You feeling okay?” you ask. You come to sit with him in the bed, your side still mostly made. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you to rest on his shoulder. 

“I’m alright,” he responds. “Wanna lay down for awhile?”

“You’ve been laying down for like... three days,” you say, snickering at him. 

“You know what I mean. I’ve missed being close to you.” 

Pulling up the sheets, you crawl into bed with him despite being in your day clothes. You lay on your side and he snuggles against your back, holding you securely. He inhales deeply, not doubt smelling the sweet scent of your shampoo. The two of your are still for a moment, holding each other and listening to the sound of your synchronized breathing. It’s so peaceful and comfortable in the room that your eyes begin to slip shut. Though, you’re disturbed by something poking you in the back. You adjust yourself, hoping it would go away, but instead Risotto grunts while you move. 

“Morning wood?” you question, craning your head over your shoulder to smile at him. His black and red eyes are squinted as he fights off sleep once again. 

“You could say that,” Risotto says. “It’s been almost a month since I’ve gotten any. Couldn’t even touch myself.”

“You could get some right now, you know,” you say mischievously. His eyes open wider now, red irises shifting to look at you. 

“I’m too tired to fuck you properly.” He sounds disappointed. 

“Don’t worry about this. Let me take the reigns,” you assure him. You carefully untangle yourself from his arms and push the blanket off of you. At your direction, Risotto makes himself comfortable against the pillows and slides off his boxer shorts. You position yourself between his legs, laying on your stomach between his thighs. He parts them for you, looking down at you eagerly. The expression on his face is making you feel some feel hot on the inside. 

You gingerly grab his weighty cock and gave it a couple pumps with your fist. It’s as hard as a rock in your hand and stood intimidatingly tall. You can never get Risotto to fit in your mouth all of the way, but you’ll be damned if you don’t try. You grab it by the base and guide it towards your lips, giving it a few broad licks. Looking up at him, his black and red eyes met yours. His lids are heavy, his breaths deep as you handle his cock. You mouth his tip, getting it nice and wet before taking more into your mouth. Risotto lets out a pleased sigh as you work your way down, taking more and more of him with every little bob of your head. 

“Merde,” he moans, his head rolling back on his shoulders before straightening. “I missed you so much,” he speaks, his hand coming down to cup the back of your head lovingly. You bat your lashes at him and smile as well as you can around his member. You swallow down more of him until you can’t stand it. Gagging yourself on his dick, you pump the remaining few inches that you can’t reach. Your saliva is dripping down his shaft as your mouth struggles to accommodate his pulsating length.  Risotto was never particularly vocal. He didn’t usually speak or moan very much. Though, this time, he’s breathless, grunting and groaning as you suck him with all you’ve got. You feel triumphant, and with a bit more confidence, you begin to bob your head more fervidly on his cock. Risotto’s thighs start to twitch on either side of you, his muscles growing restless and you try to suck the cum from him. “How are you doing that with your tongue?” he moans, running a hand through his short, white hair. You smugly continue to tease the underside of his cock with your tongue, all while your cheeks are hollowed. Cheekily, you use your other hand to cup his balls, squeezing him just tight enough to send jolts of pleasure up his spine. A loud moan escapes him, followed by him biting his lip to silence himself. Risotto’s cheeks are red with embarrassment, but you think that it’s adorable. His sweet, pleasured noise travels right to your pussy, causing you to tingle and throb as you suck him off. 

You can tell that your boyfriend is close because he’s beginning to buck up into your mouth. Usually he has enough control not to, because he is aware that his member is...bigger than average. But when he gets lost in the pleasure, on the edge and needing to cum, he will buck into your tight throat. Risotto only needs a little more to cum, just a bit. Tears are streaming steadily from your eyes, sloppy sounds coming from your throat with every bob of your head. Risotto grips your hair, pushing your head down slightly. “Gonna cum, cara,” he warns. But you’re prepared for it. You breathe in deeply through your nose and focuse all of your energy on relaxing your throat. Risotto lets out a long groan as he shoots his load down your throat. You sputter on his seed, some of it spilling out the sides of your mouth. Though, he’s relentless, and continues shooting ribbon after ribbon of his spunk. Drool, cum, and tears drip down your face and onto the sheets. The sight of you was truly beautiful. 

Risotto’s eyelashes are fluttering in bliss as he gets his fill. It felt like an eternity since he got to have your hands and mouth on him, and he’s so happy. You only pull back from his cock when you physically cannot take having in him your throat anymore. The capo relaxes his hand as you pull off his cock, sputtering and coughing as more cum drips down your chin. You swallow what you can, drawing in deep breaths in an effort to gather yourself. “Easy, easy,” Risotto speaks softly to you, loosening his grip on your hair and petting the back of your head gently instead. As you gaze up at him, you can’t help but smile. He returns the gesture, giving you a small smirk. His hand moves from the back of your head to your chin, tilting your face up at him. “I love you so much,” he professes. “Thank you for doing that for me.” 

“If you thought that this was just for you, then you are mistaken,” you reply wittily, still trying to regain your breath. “But you are welcome. I love you too, Ris.” 

Risotto strokes your chin with his thumb lovingly. “Likewise. Why don’t you let me get a towel for your face?” he says, the smooth bass of his voice vibrating in your ears. You nod enthusiastically. He plants a kiss on the top of your head before he crawls out of bed. 

#risotto nero x reader smut #Risotto Nero #jjba #knife asks #not sfw #cw blowjobs #cw size kink #my work

[titan-fodder]

The Warrior Experience; ft. the Marley Warriors

Rating: Explicit; mdni

Pairing: Zeke, Reiner, Porco, Pieck x fem!reader

Word Count: ~5.3K

Warnings: mildly dubious consent (reader isn’t exactly there of her own free will but is still dtf), multiple partners, voyeurism, virgin Colt, rough blowjob, rough sex, unprotected sex, mentions of unpleasant contraceptives, lots of cum, clear bias toward Reiner

A/N: I don’t know what happened today. I just got possessed by the horny ghost. Enjoy~

It’s always Magath who retrieves you, the sour-faced General swinging open the door to your small room without any type of knock or warning. 

On most nights, he takes a look at you, frowns, then grunts the name of whoever is actually calling for you—requesting your “presence”. This evening, however, he remains silent, leaving it a mystery that keeps you curious as you make yourself slightly more presentable, pulling on a skirt, running a comb through your hair, just enough to look a little more human. 

You walk in silence down the hallways, your hands clasped behind your back as the older man struts in his usual militaristic fashion. As you near the Warrior quarters, you do your best to prepare yourself, but without an idea of who you’re meeting, it’s difficult. 

Because they’re all so different. Galliard, for instance, usually starts the nights off aggressively. He particularly likes slamming you into various surfaces, pinning you down with a bruising grip, but his demeanor changes as soon as he’s inside you. The once careless young man turns to jelly underneath you, gasping and groaning as his adrenaline wanes and he unravels. 

Always tired and slightly unstable, Reiner is soft. Even when his thrusts are deep and harsh, his hands remain gentle, calluses feather light as they dance up and down your ribs, over your breasts. His stamina varies. Sometimes, when he’s a little more out of his head, a little more haunted, he ruts into you for what feels like an eternity. Most of those instances, he doesn’t even come. You’re just there for a distraction— “A nice one,” he tells you quietly, gratefully, but you still know where you stand with him. 

There are nights when he’s desperate for release, however, taking you with quick, sloppy thrusts, spilling inside you within minutes then rubbing your clit until you squeeze him back to full hardness so that he can do it all over again.

Zeke is the hardest to predict, on far ends of one, sadistic spectrum: he either wants you to do all the work while he smirks up at you with a cigarette between his lips, occasionally blowing smoke into your face, or he wants to dominate you entirely. When he falls into the latter category, you’re in his bed for hours, sniffling or sobbing, biting your lip to keep yourself from begging him to stop—one, because he won’t listen, but also because it isn’t your place. 

The Warriors are honorary Marleyans which means they’re much more important and valuable than you are. Your opinion never matters, least of all in the bedroom. 

You’re more or less a toy for them to use, an Eldian plucked from Liberio and brought to the military base with no real say in it. The Warriors are all young and virile, after all. They have needs like anyone else, but despite their honorary status, they’re forbidden from sleeping with Marleyan women. 

So, you live here, at their beck and call with one purpose and one purpose only. 

To your surprise, Magath stops before you can get to the sleeping quarters you are very familiar with at this point. You stand outside of a closed door, raise an eyebrow at the General but don’t dare question him. 

“They’re in there,” he grumbles, nodding to the door before turning around and walking away.

They…

Raising a suddenly very heavy hand, you knock lightly then shift awkwardly until the door opens and reveals Galliard. His perpetual scowl is in place, but he nods his head in acknowledgment then moves to the side to let you in. 

Galliard isn’t the only one in the room—what looks like some kind of conference area with a sizable wooden table surrounded by chairs, a window on the far end displaying the night sky and twinkling stars. Nearly all of those chairs are full, one scooted back from the table that you can easily assume belongs to the redhead standing behind you.

Zeke is lounging comfortably, feet kicked up on the table as he puffs on a cigarette. Reiner is sitting in his chair backwards, slumped forward to rest his head on the wooden backing, though he lifts it to look at you with bloodshot eyes. Pieck, who you do not see often at all, is slouched with her arms pillowing her face, offering you a lazy smile that’s laced with something you cannot place. 

There’s one more person in the room, the vaguely familiar face of Colt Grice, Warrior Candidate slated to inherit the Beast Titan in a few years. You’ve seen him around the base, usually trailing closely behind Zeke, but haven’t gotten the chance to speak with him yet. 

You remain standing even as Galliard takes his seat again, nibbling on your bottom lip, waiting expectantly—nervously. The last time you were in a room with all of them at once was when you’d first been brought here, and that had just been for informal introductions. There had also been another Eldian with you at the time, a male to keep Pieck satisfied, but he’s… No longer with you. 

In true leader fashion, Zeke is the first to speak after taking a long drag from his cigarette, tilting his head back to blow it into the air and creating a haze over himself. 

“Glad you could join us tonight, sweetheart,” he shows a short, unconvincing smile, and that paired with the condescending pet name leads you to believe he’s in one of his more controlling moods.

“I’m just glad to be able to service the Wa—”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t need to do all that,” he waves you off. “I’ll cut to the chase.”

“Let her sit down first, Zeke, geeze,” Pieck murmurs before holding a small hand out for you, beckoning you to take the seat next to hers.

Never one to argue or disobey, you shuffle over to it and lower yourself, but you can’t relax, not with so many pairs of eyes on you. 

Galliard is twitchy, bouncing his leg up and down, pushing his hair back too often. Reiner, unmoving, just blinks slowly at you, expression flat. Grabbing your hand, Pieck offers a nod that isn’t the slightest bit reassuring while Zeke pins you with an icy gaze. 

“Colt here is gonna be a big boy Warrior pretty soon,” he says, motioning to the boyish blond in the corner who suddenly seems more interested in the floor than anything. “And, he hasn’t been given the chance to have the experiences he deserves. You follow?”

You nod, easily putting the pieces together. They want you to sleep with him, some sort of sexual initiation.

“As I’m sure you’ve picked up, Titan holders don’t have the longest lifespans, so I figure he needs to enjoy what life he has left.”

Another nod, then you start to stand only to be stopped by Galliard who asks, “What’re you doing? Sit back down.”

“Oh,” you plant yourself back in the chair, eyes growing as your stomach sinks. “I thought you wanted me to show Colt—”

Zeke laughs around his cigarette, adding even more smoke to the air around you, and shakes his head. “No, you misunderstand. You will be showing Colt a thing or two tonight, but in here where we can all watch and… Lend a helping hand if need be.”

Mouth going dry, you can’t stop yourself from frowning. Sleep with Colt… In front of all of them? You don’t fancy yourself much of a performer, doubt you’ll be able to put on any kind of good show under so much pressure.

But, you can’t protest. You can’t go against their wishes or complain. You should consider yourself lucky, being able to service the Warriors. It means you’re a half-step above the other Eldians—a devil but a halfway useful one.

“Um. Okay,” you consent.

Zeke claps his hands together. “Excellent,” then tells you. “Bathroom’s down the hall. Go rinse off, do whatever you need to do to get ready, then meet us back here.”

You don’t dawdle, doing exactly what you’re told. The restroom is obviously for multiple people, a few stalls with cheap curtains to block you from view. You make quick work of bathing so that you’ll have time to prepare yourself, starting the process of stretching yourself while under the spray. With no idea how large Colt might be, and taking into account that he might be completely clueless about female anatomy, you make sure to work three fingers into your cunt, moving them as best you can until you’re a little loosened up and wet. 

When you return to the conference room, you’re just in a towel, folded clothes under your arm and placed in an empty chair. 

“Easy access,” Galliard smirks. “Good call.” You squeak when he slaps your ass then sit on the edge of the table as you’re directed to. 

Most of them have shed their boots and jackets, looking a little more casual now. It doesn’t put you at ease—if anything, it makes you think the others will get a little more involved than Zeke originally let on, and the thought alone is enough to overwhelm you. 

It takes some prompting for Colt to muster the courage to approach you. The others scoot to the edges of the room, giving the two of you center stage. It's daunting, but you do your best to forget about them, to focus on the nervous blond in front of you. 

Spreading your legs, you pull him by the shirt to stand between them then look up at him through your lashes and ask, "Am I allowed to kiss you?" You can never assume. Everyone has different rules. 

When you're with Reiner, he has his mouth against yours more than he doesn't, Galliard will nip and suck against every part of you that isn't your mouth, and the closest Zeke gets to your mouth is prying it open to spit on your tongue. 

Naturally, Colt looks to his War Chief for answers, but Zeke just shrugs. "Your choice, big guy. You're the one calling the shots."

Colt contemplates for a little while but eventually nods and swallows. "Uh, yeah. That's okay, I guess."

He seems to feel just as awkward as you do about this whole situation, would also probably prefer for it to happen in private, but you imagine he's doing everything in his power to show that he's worthy of inheriting Zeke's Titan. He's basically in the same boat as you. 

Reaching up, you lace your fingers behind his neck and pull him to you, pressing your lips to his slowly, softly, trying not to spook him too much. 

After gaining as much experience as you have over the last year or so, it's rare for you to feel shy when getting intimate. Three of the other people in that room have seen everything there is to see about you, your most private of body parts, your most visceral, primal reactions. You have nothing to hide any more. 

Colt is stiff against you. His hands are still by his sides, lips firm but unmoving. 

He has no idea what to do. It's almost disappointing, knowing you're about to spend the evening teaching this kid, fresh faced, twenty years old at most and completely clueless. 

You're saved when a gruff voice makes you pull away: "Alright, this is hard to watch." Reiner sits up and rubs his eyes, then swings his leg over the chair to stand and walk over. "Grice, have you ever even seen anyone kiss before?"

Cheeks turning red, Colt moves out of the way, stuttering out "W-well yeah, but I never watch." 

The taller man takes the vacant space between your legs, and you inhale sharply when he slides a large hand to the back of your head, tilting your face even further upward. Reiner kisses you in a way that makes your head spin. He has that desperate taste he always has, and even without opening your eyes, you can tell he's frowning. But his hand is cautious, careful not to tug your hair just like he's careful not to knock his teeth into yours when he parts your lips with his. 

"There we go," Zeke laughs, clapping twice and cheering, "'Atta boy, Braun!" 

Reiner's tongue dances with yours in a heated back and forth for a few seconds before he pulls back. He doesn't smile, but he does sigh in a thoughtful manner before turning to Colt and pointedly telling him, "That's how you kiss a woman."

Reiner softly scratches the back of your head in a fond gesture, then steps away and motions for Colt to try again. 

He's slightly more confident this time around, starting off slowly at first but eventually pushing against you harder and harder until it's a little much, and you just barely push at his chest to get him to let up. He replaces pressure with tongue, probing and curious but not awful. 

"Undo her towel, Grice. Get a move on," Galliard demands. 

Colt reaches up with a shaky hand, breathing through his nose while keeping his lips attached to yours as he pulls at the loose knot just above your breasts. The material falls and pools around you on the table, and before he can be criticized again, you grab one of Colt's hands and place it on one of the perky mounds. You move your fingers over his, showing how you like to be massaged then guiding him to your nipple. 

"Oh, this is very romantic," Zeke drawls, snapping his fingers to get someone's attention then addressing, "Pock," who grunts in response. "You're a tit man, right? Your turn to show him how it's done." 

The sound of a chair scraping on the floor rings throughout the room, but instead of pushing Colt out of the way, Galliard stands on the other side of the table behind you, bends forward, then grabs you by the hair to pull you down. The breath is knocked out of you as your back hits the table, and you blink up at the redhead in surprise. 

Upside down, your face is about level with his hips, maybe a foot away from his pelvis, but before you can dwell on it, Galliard's rough hands are on your tits, groping, massaging, then pinching your nipples so that you arch and moan. 

"Know I probably shouldn't like it so much, but you sound so pretty, baby," he growls, flicking over the hardened buds then squeezing again. 

"We're all devils here. You can like it as much as you want," Reiner gruffs. 

"Justifying your own feelings?" Zeke snarks. 

You aren't able to see or hear Reiner's response, too busy whining as Galliard starts to slap your tits over and over, making the flesh burn and sting. 

Porco groans, "Mm, love that bounce," hitting them a few more times then stopping and allowing you to take a shuddering breath. 

Your body is hot all over, especially your chest, and your pussy is starting to throb. After playing with yourself in the shower, the heated kiss you shared with Reiner, and now the abuse Galliard just showered on your tits, you're starting to get restless, ready to be filled with something. 

"While I'm right here, m'gonna show you somethin' else, Grice."

Galliard grips your upper arms and slides you closer to him on the table, then undoes his pants and pulls his cock free. As soon as you feel the tap on your lips, you open up for him, relaxing just in time for him to shove his length over your tongue and into the tight sleeve of your throat. 

And, pride actually wells up inside of you. That hardly ever happens. 

There's no time to acclimate really, your only choice being to just lay and take it, so you do, choking and gagging around Galliard's cock as everyone else watches. Tears stream down the sides of your face, but you feel them get wiped away and open bleary eyes to find Pieck peering down at you, soft hands catching the drops as she coos, "You're doing so good, love."

You squirm on the table, start to rock your hips into nothing—no one—in desperate need of friction now. 

"You want something stuffed in that pussy?" Zeke calls out. 

The vibration of your responding whine makes Galliard curse and thrust into your throat until your forehead is pressed against his heavy balls. Strings of spit leak from the corners of your mouth. You try to slurp and suckle, but the steady pistoning of Galliard’s hips just keeps pushing more out. 

“I’ll take that as a yes. Colt, you wanna go for it, or do you wanna watch first?” Zeke questions.

“Um, I—I’ll watch first, I think.”

“Good choice. See how it’s done before diving in.”

You’re barely aware of the conversation around you, mouth full of cock, gentle hands on your face. Pieck must not be fazed by being so close to her comrade’s privates because she just keeps stroking and praising you, like she thinks you might break or lose it. 

There are fingers on your wet folds, spreading them apart, then the harsh sound of spitting before a glob of thick fluid lands in your pussy. Zeke smears his saliva over your clit, and you buck under his touch, moaning when two thick digits are pushed into your heat all at once. Your cunt spasms around the intrusion, getting used to it as he continues the job you’d started in the shower. 

“I don’t always do this sort of thing just ‘cause I like the way she feels all tight and tense on my dick, but if you don’t want her to whine as much, I’d advise prepping her with your fingers or mouth.”

You squirm and writhe, the glide of his fingers getting easier with every thrust as your hole drools slick onto the table beneath you. Zeke’s palm grinds against your clit, pressure and friction where you want it most for half a second before it disappears—comes back, disappears—until you’re forcing yourself down on his hand. 

He lets out one of his standoffish little chuckles as you slide up and down Galliard’s length and fuck yourself on Zeke’s fingers, but the delicious sensation disappears entirely when Zeke pulls out, probably to work himself out of his pants, then presses the blunt head of his cock against your clenching hole. He pushes the tip in only to pull it back out, tap it against the swollen bundle of nerves a few times, then finally pushes in all the way. 

You’re a little too far up on the table now, and Zeke doesn’t bother warning you or Galliard as he tugs you back down to better situate you on his cock, causing the other man to slip out of your mouth.

“Fuck man, I was getting close!”

Without a care in the world, Zeke shrugs him off, tells him, “Come on her face or something then, I don’t give a fuck.”

Your voice comes out hoarse as you moan for all of them to hear, teary eyes cracking open to see Galliard step back and lean against the wall behind him. His fist is tight around his shaft, but he’s pumping himself slowly, like he’s suddenly pacing himself despite just having fucked your throat raw. 

A rough pinch to your nipple brings your eyes to Zeke, blond hair hanging in his face, glasses slipping down his nose. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone, but other than that, he’s basically fully clothed. He’s flushed from his neck down to his chest, jaw barely hanging open as his eyebrows raise. He’s certainly enjoying himself, and you can’t say you aren’t because the drag of his thick cock in your pussy is incredible. 

Your head lolls to one side and you find Colt staring at you with wide eyes, watching the way his superior sheathes himself in you over and over. It makes you blush, so you turn to the other side, see Reiner posted up in the corner, about half hard in his pants as he watches your face. 

Mouth dropping open, you shut your eyes, trying to will away the skin-prickling sensation of being watched. You raise your arms above your head, hands dangling off the other end of the table, and Pieck takes them, squeezing once before lightly running nimble fingers over your sensitive skin.

You’ve never been with her, not that you’d be opposed. She’s very pretty and seems kind enough. But you had guessed you weren’t exactly her type. Now, though, you second guess yourself since she seems more than content with touching you. 

The painful squeezes of Zeke’s fingers are batted away, replaced by the ghost of stimulation on your sore nipples. Pieck rubs over one so lightly you hardly register it, but it still shoots right to your pussy, makes you clench around Zeke. 

He’s holding you by the hips now, pulling you onto his cock, and it goes like this for a while. At some point, the wet sound of Galliard jacking off fades, but you doubt he’s come; he’s typically quite vocal when he climaxes. 

Zeke never lets up, fucking deep and fast and right over the spot that makes you leak until he suddenly pulls out and shoots strings of hot cum onto your thighs and the table between them. 

“You don’t… Inside?” Colt speaks up.

Rubbing his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, Zeke answers, “Never. That’s preference, though. I just don’t want any accidents to happen.”

You would remind him that you go to the medic after every encounter you have with the Warriors to get checked out, given an unpleasant medicine that leaves you sick for a few days, but it’s hard to think straight right now. 

Before Colt can move toward you again or any more questions can be asked, Galliard is rounding the table, cock in hand once again, shouldering Zeke out of the way so that he can bury himself in your pussy. He’s a shorter length than the man who was in you just moments ago, but a little thicker. Veiny and curved upward, Galliard always feels good inside of you. Unfortunately for you, he’s basically been edging himself since you were pulled from him, so he doesn’t last long at all. 

Unlike Zeke, Galliard has no qualms about coming inside of you. You feel his seed fill you, mixing with your own wet arousal and making you drip with it when he pulls out. 

“Couldn’t help myself,” he grins before giving your pussy a slap, making you push more of his cum out. 

You hear someone suck in a deep breath, and Colt slowly shuffles over to you. He stares at your throbbing cunt for a while, raising a timid hand to stroke over now messy folds, and you let out a mewl, a very soft, “Please…”

Pieck places a tender kiss at your hairline that makes your heart jump into your throat, such a kind gesture as she murmurs against you, “You’re doing so well for them.”

“Can I—” You blink up at her face, floating upside down over yours. “Can I do anything f-for you, Pieck?”

She shows another one of those smiles, the kind that’s hiding a little something, and she shakes her head, wavy, black hair flowing over her shoulders. “I’m just enjoying watching. You’re very pretty to look at.”

You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond, so you just let her keep touching you, keep cooing and doting. You’ll never say no to affection like this. 

Colt doesn’t have any trouble finding your entrance, which is a relief. He lines himself up and pushes in painfully slowly, panting the entire time and letting out one very satisfying, “O-oh, shit.”

“Feels good, doesn’t she?” Zeke hums.

Colt nods, arms beginning to shake on the table. He seems to be holding himself back, whether it’s from coming or fucking into you is a mystery, but eventually he bottoms out and stays still save for his trembling. It isn’t uncomfortable, but you do feel very full, his hips flush against yours, cockhead nestled right up against your cervix. If he was any longer, you would definitely be in pain. 

“Grice, you can move, you know,” Galliard jabs, but Colt just shakes his head. 

“One second. Lemme just…” He shifts his hips some, not thrusting as much as grinding into you, and you cry out when he presses against that far wall. 

You can feel Galliard’s cum leaking down the curvature of your ass, pooling with whatever of Zeke’s is left on the table. You’re so wet, noisy when Colt finally does start slowly pulling out and pushing in. The squelches echo in the conference room and make you cringe, but Zeke seems to appreciate it as he hums, “Listen to that sloppy pussy.”

“Like music to my fuckin’ ears,” Galliard adds.

Colt has trouble keeping an even pace, his hips stuttering often, but the ridge of his cock strokes over the sensitive spot inside you—the one that makes you drool and babble—almost every time. Your muscles clench around him, changing the sensation for both of you, and when that rhythm becomes even more erratic, you know he’s close.

“Fuck, fuck, I—”

“Just add to the mess. We’ll clean up later,” Zeke reassures him.

Colt’s eyes find yours for the first time since he started fucking you, searching for something like permission, so you nod and show a lazy grin.

“It’s okay, you can come in me.”

That sends him over, a strangled gasp ripping from his throat as he milks himself in your cunt. You can feel the pressure of building liquid inside you, pushing on your insides, but it wanes when Colt pulls out. 

You feel swollen and used at this point, but your core is still hot with the desire to come. There’s a chance you won’t, especially now that Colt has finished, but you can always get yourself off in the privacy of your quarters if need be. 

The freshly fucked blond receives a couple slaps on the back, some patronizing comments from his War Chief, and you take the time to just breathe and melt into the table, enjoying the way Pieck is stroking your hair now, smiling at the other Warriors. 

Your eyes are just about to close when you see Reiner making his way over. He stands between your legs for a while, just looking over the damage, the slight discoloration of your chest, your raw nipples, mouth swollen from Galliard’s cock, then finally your used pussy. 

His fingertips brush over sensitive skin, making you shudder, and you nearly cry when he asks, “You ready to get yours?”

You nod, sucking in an unsteady breath. Reiner mouths the word, “Okay,” then unbuckles his pants and pushes them down to his thighs, and the tears really do start to gather in your eyes now because Reiner is big, and you're already getting sore from three other cocks you've taken. 

He rubs his hands up your thighs, tells you, “Wrap your legs around my waist,” which you somehow manage even though they’re weak with numbness. 

Reiner doesn’t push in just yet, though you can feel his warm cock rubbing between your engorged lips. Instead, he slides his arms under your back and lifts you, turning so that he’s sitting on the table and you’re in his lap, ankles still crossed at his lower back. 

“Just go at your own pace.” His voice is quiet, his mouth hovering just over yours, and here, like this, you almost forget about the others. 

You lift yourself just enough to line his tip up with your leaking entrance then lower yourself onto his cock inch by inch. His girth stretches you, always burns just a little, even when you’re well prepared. 

Your spongy walls make room for him, sucking him in even as you whine at his size. He waits for you to get settled, for you to start rocking, and only then does Reiner start moving. His cheeks are pink, light brown eyes nearly taken over by blown pupils, but the shift of his hips is slow and deliberate, hitting just where you need him to.

He keeps one hand at your back to help you balance, but his other moves down to press on the puffy flesh at the apex of your cunt. It forces your clit to rub against the coarse hairs on his pelvis, and you throw your head back as you finally, finally get that friction you were craving. 

Reiner lowers his face to your chest, warm tongue laving over one nipple in a soothing manner as it pebbles against the muscle. He moves to the other and does the same, suckles on it softly so that you dig your nails into his back.

You leak with every shallow thrust, various fluids getting pushed from your wet pussy, and the closer you get to your orgasm, the worse it gets. You squirt first, a juice thinner than your slick arousal dribbling from you and coating Reiner’s thighs. 

“Fucking—” He cuts himself off by kissing you, obviously uncaring of the fact that you had someone else’s cock in your mouth maybe half an hour ago. He licks into you, holding your body tight against his as your muscles tense, thighs rigid around his waist. You climb and climb, gut hotter and hotter until you reach your peak and moan into his mouth. 

Your hips start moving on their own accord, a little faster as you squeeze the thick cock inside of you until your body grows tired enough to stop. Reiner keeps the same, slow pace, rumbles, “Just keep squeezing me, and I’ll come soon.”

So, you do, clenching around him and trembling the more overstimulated you become because you’re so sensitive and so swollen and so full. Every part of you aches. Every shift of his cock makes you whimper, but when Reiner finally spills inside of you, holding you down on his spurting cock, you sigh and slump against him. 

You breathe heavily, and so does Reiner, his chest, now damp with sweat, rising and falling against yours. His shirt chafes against your nipples, making you hiss, but you’re too exhausted to move.

“Is that what sex is always like with you two?” Galliard scoffs. “That was some soft shit. I’m a little disgusted.”

If you were a little more lucid, you’d consider calling him out and announcing to the room how wanton he gets alone in the bedroom, but your brain is functioning at minimal capacity right now.

“Oh, leave them alone, Pock,” Pieck chides, and you glance across the table at her with tired eyes to find another one of those smiles on her face. “Everyone deserves some softness, especially this little angel after the way you guys treated her.”

“Didn’t treat her any differently than I normally do,” Zeke says, voice slightly muffled as he speaks around a new cigarette. 

“In that case, I offer my condolences,” Pieck tells you, pulling a little snort from you. 

“S’fine,” you slur. “I’m just happy to service the Warriors.”

Galliard rolls his eyes. Pieck hums thoughtfully. Zeke smirks. Reiner lets his head fall to your shoulder.

And, Colt croaks out a honestly endearing, “Well, I, uh, appreciate the service,” which makes you and all of his superiors laugh. 

It’s not an easy job, this one you've been given. You try to be grateful for the opportunity, but most days end with you struggling to find your own self worth.

Tonight is different, though. It’s rare that you feel genuinely appreciated, but right now, sitting in Reiner’s lap with Colt looking at you in both embarrassment and gratefulness, you feel that maybe you're worth something.

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