#cw bold colours

[autistic-zukoao3]

I watched Night Mind show update to Welcome Home! I think lots of what unsettled him was just Typical Autism Things because Wally is literally autistic. Kinda didn't like how he was talking, but only a Little.

Anyways! Not point!!!

We did Wally Darling art! Two version!!

CW: eye strain, bold colours, contrasting text, contrasting colours, themes of Unreality

#wally darling wh #wally my beloved #wally welcome home #wally darling #welcome home wally #wh wally #wally fanart #wally darling welcome home #wh fanart #partycoffin fanart #contrasting colors #cw contrasting colours #cw bold colours #tw bold colours #contrasting text #unreality

[jaylaxies]

SUBSCRIBER BENEFITS

PAIRING: camboy!sunghoon × fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, excessive usage of nicknames, spanking, fingering, orgasm denial, overstimulation, breeding, slight bondage, mentions of obsession, just smut overall.

WC: 2865 words

SYNOPSIS: sunghoon is the prettiest boy you had ever laid your eyes on and you’d do anything to have him all to (in) yourself.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! I'm back with another fic! it’s just a really messy thought i’ve tried to put into words! i hope y'all will enjoy this! :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all <33

He’s beautiful. Soft pink lips which stretched into the sweetest smile a man could provide you with. Sweet nectar dripped from his honey brown eyes. His supple skin resembling porcelain as you watch the man show off his abs on the monitor of your PC screen, the lights being that of dim red colour, only accentuating his muscles, which flexed with apiece movement of him. 

It was Park Sunghoon—your favourite and the only camboy that piqued your interest. He was truly a work of art, displaying his perfectly sculpted body for everyone to see. 

As for you, you’re the textbook definition of a spoiled rich girl who paid Sunghoon more than anyone in their sane mind would in just a single livestream, which didn’t even provide you with a visual of anything other than his face and torso. 

Despite him stroking his cock smugly, he made sure to hide it from the view of the camera, which drove you insane to the point you were ready to throw all your money his way, becoming his top subscriber.  

A moan left your lips, hearing him breathe out filthy words which were always effective in getting you off, the phallic shoved deep in your cunt only being a help to you. Sending him another big tip in hopes of him acknowledging you, you waited to see him smirk at the notification, not caring about the other comments flooding through his window. 

“That’s a generous sum you’ve sent me, kitten,” he chuckled, the nickname making your pussy flutter, “no requests from your side, darling?” He asked, smirking subtle enough for it to look attractive. 

That’s what you oh so obsessively want—his attention on you. 

So you type out as fast as you can. 

yourkittenxo69: a private session with you, that’s what i want 

Your request was bold, almost being perceived as a demand, which only intrigued him. 

Sunghoon never did private shows, or gave attention to any particular person in his lives. Despite it all, he was the most popular camboy on the site, surpassing everyone by just showing them his body, paired with his dirty talk. You hated how everyone wanted him, especially when you wanted him all to yourself. 

He licked his bottom lip while reading your comment, “Sorry, kitten. I don’t do private shows.”

yourkittenxo69: I’ll pay you

You typed out with a smirk, gasping when the dildo in you started vibrating just how you liked it, then you proceeded to type out the amount of money you were willing to pay. 

To some, it would take years to earn that amount of money but to you, it was your monthly pocket money, which you didn’t bother spending on Sunghoon. 

Naturally, the shock was evident on his face because no one in their right mind would offer someone such a huge sum for a private show. It almost felt like free money to Hoon, and so he smiled, tongue tracing his fang-like canines.

“You got yourself a deal, kitten.”

It was the first time you’d seen Sunghoon covered up, clad in white button up with the top three buttons left open. With his hair parted to the side, you could get a clear view of his face, but your eyes were focused on his arms, courtesy of him rolling up the sleeves. 

Given that you couldn’t show him your face, you resorted to typing out fast, yet you put efforts into wearing the newest addition to your lingerie set even though it wouldn’t be visible to him. 

“You have me all to yourself now,” he spoke up, tone cocky with how much you wanted his attention. 

yourkittenxo69: and that’s how it should be. Undress for me pretty boy 

He scoffed out a laugh, knowing exactly that he needs to cater to your wishes, “as your wish, kitten,” he whispered. 

Your attention was immediately captured by his slender fingers, which took their time to unbutton the shirt, providing you with the clear view of his torso, leaving him in nothing but his pants. 

The wetness in between your legs growing per second as you pleasured yourself alongside, eyes fixated on the screen. 

yourkittenxo69: your pants come off next

He grinned, “why? Wanna see how big my cock is?” He clicked his tongue, “what’s the point, baby? When you can’t even touch me from there,” his smirk was wide. 

His voice was condenscending, as if he couldn’t miss a single chance to mock you, which only fucked with your mind to an even greater extent. 

yourkittenxo69: just do as i say, you’re getting paid for it

A laugh escaped his lips as his fingers filled with the button on his jeans, opening it and sliding out of his jeans in an agonizingly slow manner, leaving him with his boxers and big imprint of his cock, a strangled moan leaving your mouth at the sight. 

“Like it, kitten?” He raised his brows, self aware of the effect his body had on people. 

You had to resort to using your vibrator for a release, but more than that, you wanted to meet Sunghoon in the flesh, to have his cock buried inside your leaking cunt. 

Sunghoon, on the other hand, was intrigued, his own mind forcing him to break rules for you. Why? Because he wanted to fuck some sense into your spoiled mind. Maybe, just maybe if you rile him enough, you’ll get exactly what you’re aiming for. 

yourkittenxo69: won't show me what’s hidden under your boxers now, pretty boy? 

“Why? Do you wanna be fucked dumb with it? Is that what you want, kitten?” He pressed, getting closer to the screen, making your heart beat out of your chest with anticipation, but you weren’t the one to give up, pushing his buttons would be the key to your success. 

His jaw clenched with each comment you posted, fists forming out of anger. 

yourkittenxo69: yeah, won’t you fuck me dumb?

yourkittenxo69: are you scared to show the world your teeny tiny lil cock? Is that why you keep it in?

yourkittenxo69: forget the distance, you can’t even make me cum by fucking me 

His voice was scary low as he scoffed, “getting ahead of ourselves now? Oh, kitten, give me your address if you dare instead of sitting behind a scene. I’ll see how you walk when I’m done with you,” he challenged, his slutry tone making you clench around your toy. 

That was your plan from the start, however you never expected him to give in this quickly, given that he wasn’t the one to make exceptions, yet he broke all the rules for you. 

With a blend of confidence and unadulterated need to have him, you swiftly typed out your address, making his lips turn into a seductive grin. 

“See you tomorrow then, kitten.”

He wasn’t sure if it was curiosity or his need to tame your brat ass which led him your way, money was only an addition to it. He spent an unconventional amount of time pondering upon the hasty choices he had made. 

He had a total of three things he knew about you, first being the fact that you were an adult, second that you were a female, and third—your address. 

Not to mention you were wealthy, his subconscious reminded him. 

It was risky, going to a stranger’s place, or in your case, a whole penthouse, yet he wanted to see the person behind the user yourkittexo69 and fuck some sense into her, even though he admit how it certainly would be better if you’d be as appealing to him as you sound bratty in general. 

That’s exactly how he found himself in front of your door, dressed in black button up and pants paired with a few chains and rings which completed his look. 

“Fuck it.” He rang the bell, waiting for the door to be opened by you, however he was greeted by a woman in what seemed to be working uniforms and hair tied up in a bun. 

“Welcome, sir. She’s been expecting you, please head up the stairs,” she acknowledged his presence, getting out of the house as you had ordered her to, for privacy's sake. 

Sunghoon thanked the women, eyes wandering around the fully decorated place of yours, each corner screaming wealth and money. 

Walking up the stairs, he noticed the big chandelier and a series of paintings lined up right before he reached your room, knocking on the big wooden door twice.

“Come in,” your voice came out muffled due to the thick door, but understandable nevertheless. 

Biting his bottom lip, he got inside your room and finally took you in for the first time—his eyes eyebrows raising in the process, a cocky expression taking over his face. 

The reason? It was you. The skimpy white lingerie set you wore didn’t leave much to the imagination, adding to that, you had done justice to your username by wearing a collar and cat ears just for the pretty boy in front of you, him noticing the tail only ignited the need to destroy your cunt even further. 

Your lips curled up into a sly smile, “didn’t think you’d actually come here, Park Sunghoon,” you mused, seeing him walk straight towards your bed, where you were spread out for him, “guess you really wanna fuck me.”

He didn’t speak a word, getting rid of his shirt as he proceeded to unbutton it. Just the action shut you up, no sign of humour on his face. Despite the spontaneity of this situation, it felt as if the pace was perfect, your desire colliding with reality for once. 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, finally witnessing him in front of you.

The night held a distinct allure to it, especially when the candles that you had lit spread the aroma which only aroused you further, making you gulp your nervousness down. 

He climbed up the bed, your breath hitching with how he stopped when he was right above you, his nose touching yours as he finally chuckled, “such a pretty face with that bratty mouth, yeah?” 

You yelped when he held your wrists above your head, a whimper leaving your mouth as he tied your wrists up with his shirt, “didn’t know you were into this,” you giggled. 

In an instant, his fingers were gripping your chin, “did I give you permission to talk?” His condenscending voice sent a shiver down your spine and you felt enthralled for a second before chuckling in his hold. 

“Since when do I need your permission—”

The next second, his slender fingers were wrapped around your neck, applying just enough pressure to put his point forward. 

“You’re not allowed to fucking talk unless I ask you to,” he seethed out, not missing the excitement in your eyes, “is that clear?” 

You looked at him with hooded eyes, a slutry expression taking over your face, “yes, daddy.”

He chuckled, stroking your hair and reaching to play with your cat ears, “y’know what, kitten?” He rasped, scanning your features, “you should be punished for being such a bratty kitten.”

You squealed when he roughly switched up the positions so that you were bent over his lap with his hand groping your ass, the air around you thickening. 

Driven by a primal longing, Sunghoon didn’t wait before he started spanking your ass, “count,” he ordered, “this one’s for being a brat.”

“Fuck! One,” you hissed out, biting your lips to conceal a moan. 

Another slap, “this one’s for talking back.”

A string of curses left your lips, “t—two!”

The slap resonated in the room, “for cursing.”

You whimpered, pressing your thighs together when he continued his ministrations, starting from one whenever you messed up, finally soothing his large hands over your ass. 

“Fucked out already? Oh, baby, I’m just getting started,” he said, sliding his fingers down to meet your soaked panties, he clicked his tongue, “we don’t need this,” he whispered. 

“Sunghoon—”

“Shh.” He ripped your panties into two, making your eyes go wide, “that’s not what you call me, kitten,” he rasped, pushing his two fingers into your cunt, the wetness allowing him to slide in easily. 

Your head felt dizzy, especially when you couldn’t move your hands or say anything that would make sense. No one’s ever been this way with you—demanding and in control, and he was simply fucking you with his fingers. 

Yet, you didn’t want to back down now, “is that the best you can do, daddy?” You mocked him just when you felt your high nearing in hopes of him speeding up. 

It resulted in him sliding his fingers out of your pussy much to your dismay, earning a pathetic whine out of you. He easily turned you around, getting on top of you, your body shivering with anticipation as he bent down, his nose caressing your ear as he whispered, “I’d give you my best but bad kittens don’t deserve shit.”

His fingers moved even slower, brushing against your clit in an agonizingly slow pace, “tell me, doll face, do you deserve to be fucked?” 

“Y—yes, please! I’ll be good,” you cried out, squirming and bothered at the orgasm denial. 

“Doesn’t sound very convincing to me, I guess the kitten doesn’t want it after all,” he chuckled, knowing that you had given up, especially when he pushed you that deep into your sub space, his thumb rubbing featherlight circles on your cunt. 

“P—please, daddy! I swear I—oh fuck! I won’t act up anymore, I’ll listen to you, please just—just fuck me!” You whined. 

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He pulled you closer by your collar, “now, be good and take it all like a good kitten.”

You were too fucked out to notice him getting out of his pants, not once getting a look at his cock. He deliberately prolonged his actions to torment you, just when you were reaching your high with his fingers again, but that wasn’t something he’d allow. 

He was swift to remove his fingers from your cunt, his movements deliberate when he positioned himself in front of your pussy, thrusting it all in one go. 

The sensation was quite literally exquisite, as if your whole body felt how big he was, lewd voices leaving your lips, eyes rolling back, your toes curling and back arching. 

“Daddy—so, so big,” you mumbled mindlessly as he focused on snapping his hips even faster, giving you no time to adjust to his length when he bottomed out, hitting your g-spot seamlessly.

“Yeah? Too big for you, kitten? That’s not what you were saying the other day.” He held your wrists up, eyes focused on your tears of pleasure. 

“I—was so wrong, daddy, I’m sorry—” his movements didn’t give you a chance to speak. 

Your vulnerable voice only fueled his desire, his movements intensifying when he bent down to suck on your clavicle, paying attention to your neglected tits by pinching them, rolling the nub between his fingers. 

“Wanna ruin you,” he groaned, “will make sure you don’t fucking walk,” with another thrust, you found yourself blacking out with how euphoric the feeling of falling apart on his cock was. 

But he was far from done with you, not giving you a second to breathe as he striked harder with each thrust of his, making you squirm and scream, your mascara running down your cheeks with your tears and your whole body felt as if it was on fire. 

He filled you up with his cum, stuffing you full and yet again, he wasn’t done with you. 

He tapped on your cheek twice, making you look at him, “swallow,” he whispered, spitting into your mouth and observing it going down your tongue before you gulped it all. 

“Good girl,” he praised, when you reached your high for the second time, your cum turning into a creamy mix inside you. 

You felt overstimulated, yet he didn’t stop. 

“Look at me, kitten,” he said, holding your chin and you were desperate to convey your impending orgasm again. 

You looked his way with dark eyes, almost falling shut when he smashed his lips onto yours, messing up your lipstick, his thumb rubbing your clit again leaving you breathless and dishevelled, panting with need. 

You realized how true he was to his words, you knew you won’t be able to walk anymore, or stand up for that matter. 

With a mixture of ecstasy and anticipating urgency, your hips met his, your stomach tightening when you finally erupted in a cry, consumed by the intensity of your climax and the feeling of him inside you. 

With two seconds of silence, Sunghoon got up, hair messy and lipstick staining his smirking lips as he untied your wrists, “have fun walking around now, kitten.” 

He was here to prove a point, nothing more, nothing less. 

And when you tried to stand up, miserably falling down with a whine, he only chuckled, sending a wink your way before he dressed up and left. 

What he didn’t know was that it wasn’t a punishment, only a push to your obsession with him, which grew even further. 

It sure won’t be a one time thing with Park Sunghoon. 

THANK YOU FOR READING!

TAGLIST: @ddeonuism @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @en-myworld @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @silenth1lls @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @bolliwon @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore

permanent taglist open! comment or send an ask to be added!

© jaylaxies | tumblr

#fic : subscriber benefits #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #park sunghoon smut #enhypen imagines #sunghoon x reader #enha smut #sunghoon hard hours #enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #sunghoon

[lichenes]

vincent renzi nsfw alphabet? :3

Thank you for the ask anon ;D

I figured this would be the best way to start writing nsfw soooo :3c

Giggling. kicking my feet literally. If you want me to elaborate on any particular letter feel free to lmk :]

I tried to make it as gn as possible :p

Vincent Renzi x gn!reader

CW: Less descript-y than my usual works, different format basically, kinda drifted from the nsfw-ness of it in a few of the subpoints lol, NSFW

wc: (excluding the template) 1,2k

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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I feel like he would kiss you through your orgasm and after you've both come off your high he would get up lazily still basking in the afterglow... He would look so good doing it too, his tired eyes observing your still heaving chest. He would ask you if you need anything and provide it for you. A caring partner thats for sure.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also yours)

In this context- he likes his own fingers. You clearly like his hands and he confronted you about it jokingly a few times to tease you. The first time he uses them on you, oh mon dieu... His favourite part of you are your eyes. To look into them while you cum is like heaven to him. While he eats you out he likes to keep eye contact if possible...

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I wouldn't say he's obsessed with you swallowing his cum. He is a tad bit opposed, being familiar with the risks it carries with it. He wouldn't be completely against it so if you feel like it, go for it.

D = Dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

He's a massive yearner. He'd never tell you that but he made a social media account solely to stalk you on it and not for work like he assured you. He would gaze lovingly at your pictures if you post any or just stare at the blank profile picture icon imagining what you were doing at the time.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Mostly, he was pretty vanilla for most his life so if you want to try anything kinkier you should research it together to give him the security of knowing. When it comes to the basic things, fingering, eating out, different positions, he passes with flying colours.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Whatever you're comfortable with and whichever ones he can see your face in. He's obsessed with your face contorting into expressions of pleasure or pain if youre into it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He stays pretty serious for most of the time, teasing you if he feels bold that day. When he feels like you're in a bad mood he tries his best to cheer you up in... many ways. He doesn't crack jokes at random times while you have sex though.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's a clean man that's all I can say. His carpet does indeed match the drapes. And most importantly he cares for your comfort which makes him trim himself quite often. When it comes to his facial hair he sometimes forgets to shave and his moustache comes in. He noticed that that's when you make love most passionately so he sometimes 'accidentally' forgets to shave, when he's feeling particularly needy.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Oh big romantic type, the first time you had sex he did the whole, rose petals on the floor, candles lit and all. Every time you have sex it's a special occasion and he feels obligated to make it seem so every time. During the moment he's very tender with you, kissing you and whispering sweet nothings into your ears...

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Remember that social media account I was talking about earlier? The first time the thought crossed his mind to masturbate to your pictures he got so flustered he had to go to the bathroom and splash cold water on his face to get rid of the thought. After he has aquired your photos though he does it with only a twinge of embarrassment.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He's big into undressing you if you, the act of stripping your clothes from your perfect body, lord, he couldn't imagine anything as arousing. He is a vanilla man up untill it comes to you riding him. When he's in that state you could convince him to do anything.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your bed, your patio on the outdoor sofa. You tried to convince him to go at it in his office at the law firm he works at but he got too flustered just at the thought and thought that he'd die of a heart attack if you were to actualise your fantasy.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

As previously mentioned, undressing you. It's not like he's a complete maniac, taking your shirt off in front of him won't make him faint but he still will get a little flustered. Begging. That's it. He also loves seeing you relaxed. Whenever you're lounging on the sofa he gets the urge to make you just a bit more tense...

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I feel like he wouldn't degrade you unless you begged for it. He is also against impact play, but he's a covenantal man. Talk to him about it and you shall see.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving or recieving is fine. He's a master at eating pussy and if you aren't comfortable with oral he won't force you to do it. He will happily welcome it thought, giving you tips as you go.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Highly depends on his mood. If he's feeling particularly foul he won't have any qualms to pound you into the matress. If he's upset he'll go slow and sensual to relay to you how much you mean to him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He prefers longer sessions to quickies. Fervency isn't what fuels him most so he prefers to go slow.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He likes experimenting, with certain limits of course. He prefers not to take risks, a calm and calculated man he is. When he warms up to you though, you could convince him to do it outside your bedroom (ex. the sofa on the patio).

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

When angry or self concious he can go for many rounds, his stamina knows no bounds when he's mad. Normally, he prefers 1-2 rounds a happy medium.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on you or themselves?)

He doesn't own any toys as he's too embarrassed to buy them, online or at brick-and-mortar. If you use any, he likes using them on you during your raptures to rile you up even more.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh this man adores teasing. Especially when he can see that you're too self-assured that day, he likes breaking down your barriers of faux confidence and making you melt in his grasp.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Aside from occasional grunts and moans he isn't very vocal. He loves listening to your sounds though. This man is generally lovestruck by you. With little sounds comes how quiet he is. Maybe that little office endeavour could happen then?

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I think he would go feral if you were to wear lingere for your first time with him. He is definitely a flatterer but he would be talking and thinking about you on the bed just in those perfectly enveloping you bra and panties... MON DIEU.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He is on the lean side with his medium height statue perfectly complimenting his overall shape... What? Oh yeah his dick. That's what this subpoint is about. He's hung, not uncomfortably so that you couldn't take him all at once but enough to not be able to put it in without some prep first.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Once again he will do it as often as you like, it all depends on you. Although once he's desperate he won't hold back on you and go at it for hours...

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After clean up, he falls asleep in your arms pretty quickly spent from all the lovemaking. Sometimes he stays still just to face your sleeping form and watch your peacefull demeanor, safe from all the evils of the world when in his embrace.

_____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿____

masterlist

#vincent renzi x reader #vincent renzi #swann arlaud #anatomy of a fall #writing #ask #send asks #:D #headcanons #vincent renzi headcanons

[yellowbunnydreams]

Bunny Ears (Part 1) ~William Afton X F! Reader~

~Hey guys! Since 'Mechanised Devotion' has finished, I thought I would play around with a new story. Still about our favourite murder-man, but set a little further back in time and before the murderin. I hope you like it!~

Cw: CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), Female Reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 30's), divorce/processing divorce (more tags will be added later in the story)

The alarm clock on your bedside table sounded way too loud as it trilled next to your head, groaning as you kept your eyes closed and tried to hit it with your hand before reluctantly opening them, glaring at the thing and scrunching your nose up before hitting the button to turn it off. Mornings were never your thing, but you had to get up early for something important and you knew you would have kicked yourself if you missed it.

Scraping yourself out of bed and padding through your house, you began the day. A breakfast of cereal because you didn't quite trust the new cooker, or your cooking skills, that had been fitted by your landlord a few days before, quick shower and navigating the stacks of boxes you had yet to unpack despite moving in two weeks ago to find where you had put your laundry down. Because of course you still hadn't built your wardrobe yet either, plus you didn't own the tools to make it.

You finally found the pile, thumbing through it until you managed to find a nice pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a plaid shirt to pull on top. You managed to get changed quickly after that and pulled on your black ankle boots, lacing them up quickly before finally heading out the door. Closing and opening it again as you realised you'd forgotten your keys and to brush your hair. The downside to not being a morning person and having to do things.

Grabbing your bike, the journey was pretty short to where you were headed, the heated Utah air making you puff slightly as you cycled, but it was no trouble in the small town since everything was fairly close by.

Parking up your bike, you looked up at the building and smiled, feeling a sense of nervousness coming over you and making your pulse quicken. The face of the smiling, waving bear wearing a hat and bowtie looked down at you with the bold words 'Freddy Fazbear's' in colourful neon, watching as kids excitedly dragged their parents inside to play in the arcade, eat greasy pizza and watch the animatronic shows you knew they had inside.

Not that you had had a chance to go before.

Heading inside, a woman with curly hair and a bright smile greeted families as they came inside the restaurant, the smell of fresh pizza and sickly sweetness washed over you like a little kid's dream. The woman wore a bright red jacket with a little name-tag, and a blouse with a confetti pattern beneath it, black slacks and black shoes stepped out from behind her little podium as she saw you looking slightly in awe and lost at the same time. Still grinning as she tapped you on the shoulder, making you jump slightly.

"Hey there, you look like you're new to Freddy's! Is there anything I can help you find today?" Her voice was chipper, but you smiled as you recognised the friendly tones of a customer service voice. Nodding your head and looking about curiously as you spoke.

"Um.. Sort of? I heard there were some jobs going and I wondered if there were still positions open?" The woman seemed to light up as you asked and nodded, gesturing to a man nearby who wore a similar uniform, plastered with the same customer service smile.

"Garret, can you watch my stand pretty please? It seems like we have a new friend for the Fazbear family!" Watching as the man, or rather that he was closer, spot-faced teenaged boy, nodded after looking you over.

"Sure Stacey, just don't wander off too far, you know how the bosses get when front isn't covered." He didn't seem to have Stacey's enthusiasm for the company, but you allowed the woman to lead you to a door marked as 'employees only' through a sea of hyper-active children, spilt drinks and arcade ticket ribbons that fluttered about like little flags behind excited children.

The robots on stage were singing a song, kids gathered around the stage and making the kids scream in delight each time they moved and blinked. One thing that you hadn't anticipated was how loud the place would be, and stepping through the employee door, you were almost sure you had gone deaf with quiet everything suddenly was.

"They make the doors mostly sound-proof in this back area." Stacey explained, tilting her head back and forth to crack her neck and shoulders dropping as if she had taken a burden off. Turning her head and revealing a slightly pissed looking face which threw you off guard. "Don't worry if I'm not smiling, my face just hurts from being on the front of house. It's great to see all the kids, but fuck will I have better jaw muscles than the football team by the time I'm finished here."

You couldn't help but laugh at her calloused humour, walking besides her so that you wouldn't have to make her crane her neck more.

"So that whole 'Fazbear family' thing?" You enquired, making her hum as she thought about it for a second before realising what you were asking about.

"Oh! One of the owners is super family oriented, so he wants us to be a 'family'. So you know, we're not staff unless we're talking to a parent, if a kid asks you're 'A friend of...' well usually we say Freddy's, but you can pick whatever animatronic you like." She explained, navigating the distinctly plainer back-halls of the establishment, more concrete than the colourful explosion of the room itself. You supposed being surrounded by that much colour all day everyday was probably not good for you.

"So I'll be taking you to see Mr.Emily, he's the really nice one. He operates Fredbear occasionally too, but not so often now that he hurt his shoulder." Raising an eyebrow at her as you couldn't help but ask a question.

"So there's a not-so nice one?" Stacey snorted as you asked and rolled her eyes, giving you a tired smile and pausing in the hallway, looking both ways before speaking lowly to you.

"Yeah and no. Mr. Afton is... well he doesn't seem to be much a people person, stays in the workshop most of the day and occasionally comes out. But he's also like, the sole operator for the Spring Bonnie costume."

As she set off together with you, you couldn't help but wonder if Mr. Afton was perhaps just sick of being surrounded by screaming kids all day, but you thought about the fact that he was one of the bosses and found it admirable that both of them seemed so dedicated to remaining involved in the restaurant. Eventually you reached a set of doors, one on the left and the right, both with name-plates. The one on the left had a window next to the door, letting you peer inside at the jumble of paperwork stacked everywhere as well as a wall filled with children's drawings of the various animatronics, including a yellow bear and rabbit that you didn't really recognise from any of the information you had found about the place.

Stacey knocked on the door and waved through the window, smiling brightly as she opened the door after a moment's pause.

"Hey sir, sorry to bother you but this young lady was asking about a job."

You got your first glimpse of Henry Emily, his hair was dark and curly, kept relatively short, but he was tanned, his eyes green eyes begining to crinkle at the edges as he broke out into a wide welcoming smile. You could tell that he was a fairly slender man, dressed in a white shirt and yellow tie, his left arm in a dark blue sling but adorned with various stickers that you figured had been placed there by plenty of kids over the time it had been on. As he stood up, he was around average height, if slightly taller, extending his good hand out to you to shake.

"Sorry if you're a lefty, I'm on light duties whilst my shoulder heals up." He grinned, a warm mid-west accent creeping through before he gestured for you to come in and made a motion towards an unoccupied spot on a small fold-out chair near all the drawings.

"Stacey, you can take your fifteen now, grab yourself something to eat if you want. You must be tired already today, busy busy busy!" Henry smiled and you watched as Stacey smiled graciously, nodding before heading back down the corridor, giving you a little wave as she left.

Henry turned to you, giving you a warm welcoming smile as he took a seat again, leaving the door open and moving back and forth in the spinning office chair with his foot. Giving you a general look over as you tried to sit and make yourself presentable.

"What's your favourite animatronic?"

"Sir?" You asked, confused by the question initially, blushing as he chuckled and shuffled in his chair, gesturing to the image on his desk, one amongst a clutter of photo frames of him with what looked like a wife and a cute kid, and just the kid. But he was pointing to a photo with seven mascots in it.

"Which is your favourite? Everybody has a favourite whilst working here, or for a young lady like you, you surely had a favourite growing up and coming here!"

"Oh, I um.. I'm from out of town, I never grew up with Freddy's." You explained, somehow feeling embarrassed about the fact, watching as Mr. Emily's eyes went wide and he placed a hand over his heart, leaning back and making you concerned before he dramatically placed his hand on his forehead and then grinned at you.

"Don't worry about it kiddo, I know not everybody grew up around here. How about we walk around and I can show you them. Maybe you'll pick up a favourite!" He seemed genuinely to be excited to show you, so you followed him out of his office, glancing at the door opposite and reading the name on it, hearing a chuckle from Henry as he noticed you looking.

"Ah, that's my partner's office, William Afton. Unless you have a technical concern or issue, I'd keep out of his way. He's...." He paused as he tried to find the word to describe him without painting him in a bad light, his hand waving in the air in a small circle as if that would fan the word into his mind.

"He's more technology inclined?" You offered up, making the man besides you laugh and pat your shoulder in the way that a proud dad would.

"Yes! William is certainly more into robots than people, so unless you want to interview to join the workshop, I won't introduce you to him today."

Making your way back through the halls, you both came out into the pizzeria and the noise almost knocked you over. Henry smiled at you reassuringly though and kept close to you so that you wouldn't get lost on the floor, stopping and talking to people as he went, making them smile and laugh and you couldn't help but do so too. His happiness was infectious. But he spent the time infront of the stage and explaining who each animatronic was, a little bit of their backstory fore their 'lore' and what they did, including a stop by Pirate's Cove where you were introduced to Foxy, the pirate animatronic who was looking a little worse for wear compared to the others.

"He's been meaning to be fixed up, but now some of the kids quite like how he looks since apparently he 'looks like he's been on adventures'." Mr. Emily chuckled as you left the area, making you smile too.

"That is incredibly cute."

"So miss..." you gave your name as he trailed off, giving a nervous chuckle, him repeating it back to you with a sheepish smile. "when would you like to join the Fazbear family?"

#steve raglan #steve raglan x reader #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton x you #fnaf movie #fnaf x reader #springtrap #springtrap x reader #william afton smut

[softshuji]

𝟎𝟐:𝟏𝟗𝐀𝐌 | 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔

Title: Baby's Breath

Summary: Rindou wishes words were easier for him, but he loves you, and he's determined to show you, in the only ways he knows. Link to master list here! REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

cw: afab! Reader, mentions of sex, some suggestive content, reader and Rin are married, lots of kissing, petnames (pretty boy, Princess) some light praise, mentions of infidelity (not from rindou or reader), rin is a cute husband.

Rindou has never told you he loves you. 

The words are too thick and heavy in his mouth, the red colouring on his cheeks too apparent, especially in the way it curls towards his ears and neck. He wants to, of course he does, but he knows that the words are often thrown around, without merit, that simply telling you he loves you doesn’t prove the fact at all.

So no, Rindou has never told you he loves you and every time he thinks he’s coming close, the metal sheet slams down on his chest and the corrugated wall of his defences rises from his bones. It’s a mechanism perhaps, to shield himself from the things he doesn’t understand, the things he fears. He can never be hurt if he never loves, so why love anyone? 

Rindou has never told you he loves you, but he wakes up before the sun has fully climbed the sky to watch the weak and watery sunlight paint your skin. The clouds shift and cloak the room in darkness again and Rindou presses a feather-light kiss to your back, your shoulder, the hollow dip in your chest. His deft fingers tuck the hair behind your ears and you frown in your sleep and roll over, taking him with you as he presses his forehead, his cheek, to the place where he thinks your heart is. He smells the lingering perfume on your skin, hidden underneath layers of sleep and sex and resists pressing a kiss to your flesh again and again, wondering if you can hear that soft and unsteady drum of his heart.

When you wake, he makes coffee, leaving it hot in the pot as he dresses. He watches you fiddle with the jar of honey or jam and gestures towards it, relishing in the way your eyes trail down his biceps and shoulders as he pops the lid.

He holds back the smirk as he usually does. He likes that you think it’s a secret when you stare at him and lick your lips, and he flushes against his will, as he always does at your boldness.

‘Thanks Rinny,’ you say, your lips brushing over the corner of his mouth and Rindou shrugs as if it’s no big deal, his heart clamouring against his ribs. He wonders one day if he’ll get over it, if the novelty of having you as his wife will ever wear off. He’d have thought it would by now, five years into a happy and stable marriage, but he hopes it doesn’t. He hopes, as embarrassing as it is, that the excitement and wonderment of being your husband never leaves, that he’ll get to wake up to that new feeling every day, make love to you like it’s the first time every time, kiss you like he’s 19 again and there are endless springs ahead of you. God Ran would have a field day if he knew that. 

Rindou has never told you he loves you but he picks up flowers as he leaves work almost every weekend, scouring the aisles for chocolates and cards and sweets and when the cashier swipes him through she asks if it’s a special occasion. He replies that it is, that the occasion is just that he wants to show his wife he loves her. Even if he can’t say it, he adds it as a mental afterthought. And when he comes home, you run and jump into his arms and he pulls you close, inhaling the scent of you, pressing his face to the curve of your neck. 

‘These are for me?’ You hold the bouquet of forget-me-nots and daisies, baby’s breath and carnations, and your heart  softens as it always does. ‘Did I miss something? What’s the occasion?’

‘Can’t I just get my wife flowers?’ He says and pulls you by the hips till your chests are touching, lowering his head till his lips meet yours. Every kiss is passionate, tender, soft. His hair curls forward, tickling your cheeks as he bites down on your lips, his tongue gentle and tentative in your mouth, running over your bottom lip as his hands slide around you. 

‘I love you,’ you whisper against his mouth, and he kisses you deeper, harder in response, like a dying man given water in the desert. You know he’s smiling from the sudden flex of his jaw in your cupped palms and it’s all the answer you need. 

Rindou has never told you he loves you but he leads you to his studio by the hand, plugs the headphones in and watches your face as he presses play. It’s a sacred thing, this moment of yours, where he shares the thing he spends so much time on, the thing that keeps him up late some nights. But it’s very much worth it when you smile for him, your head bobbing in time to the beat, and Rindou blushes from his neck to his ears when you tell him how great it is, how proud he ought to be of himself. He says it’s no big deal, as if you hadn’t noticed the shadows under his eyes getting deeper with every passing hour, hadn’t noticed him chew on the end of a pencil as his brows crease in concentration.

It’s funny actually, considering the person he was before he met you. The kind of man who assumed that all he ever really needed in life was his brother to return home to, as if the silence of a penthouse wasn’t deafening and the tick tock of the wall clock didn’t constantly remind him of just how lonely he felt. 

I only need Ran, he’d say to himself over and over, a mantra, a litany, a prayer kept tucked under his pillow at night. He’d shift his hand towards the cold side of his bed, the linen unwrinkled, smooth and untouched, and even as he pressed a cheek against the cotton, something inside him would cave and he’d curl around a pillow and stare at a spot on the carpet, hoping to conjure some warmth for the prickling that settled along his skin, a sensation that no amount of alcohol was ever able to get rid of. He’d wonder, fleetingly, if he deserves such comforts after the things he’d done.

Except now, he curls around you, and his nose buries itself in your hair or the crease at the nape of your neck and the thin chain he wears kisses the dip between your shoulder blades, and he’s so close that you can feel his breath on your chin. And maybe, just maybe, in moments like that, he feels a little less lonely, a little less cold and even though that anxiety of being undeserving still punches a hole in his chest, he knows you’re there, a beacon as bright as the sun.

And you realize, as he murmurs against your skin, how long it’s taken to get to this point. That there was a time in which he’d shrugged it off, the kindness, the tenderness, the soft touches. When he’d flinched as you cupped his face and traced the cut of his cheekbones and lips, and you’d wondered at what manner of horrors he had seen to react to you like that. When he had tried to push you away and you’d refused to move, had still held out your arms for him to come back to when he was ready to accept that he deserved to love and be loved too. 

You turn around to face him and he frowns at you, at the cold rush of air that comes from the separation of your limbs tangled with his. You hold his face and press a kiss to his lips, the curve of his chin, his throat, your fingers brushing back the loose hair escaping his ponytail. 

‘You’re a pretty boy you know that?’ you say, your voice sluggish and heavy with sleep, your forehead dipping to touch his. ‘The prettiest boy there is.’

His lips part in surprise and you have the visceral urge to kiss him again and again again till your lips are sore and you’re entirely spent. You think his lips might actually be your favourite thing about him. 

He tuts under his breath and feigns annoyance, his voice tinged with embarrassment and when he says, ‘go to sleep Princess,’ it is with mirth and a hint of love, a pinch of the multitudes he has for you.

Rindou has never told you he loves you but his hand is on your back when you jolt awake at 3AM, clutching the sheets and gasping for air, your heartbeat so fast it makes you dizzy. When the nightmares are frequent and harsh and it’s hard to shake the terror of being out of control, Rindou is there, his lips close to your ear, a hand rubbing soothing circles against your skin. 

‘Shhhhh…,’ he says as you get your bearings, and you hold onto him, your fists tightly clenched with anxiety. His hair is still matted to his forehead, clinging to his shoulders and tufts stand on end from where his cheek has been pressed into the pillow. ‘It’s okay Y/N.’ 

His voice lulls you, and you focus on his heartbeat under your cheek, the tears free flowing and fast, and he doesn’t mind that you cry on him at all but rather strokes your hair till you sag against him again, your breath evening out as you’re pulled back into sleep, a murmured "that's my girl," that you cling to.

He won’t mention it when you wake, but the gentleness is there all the same. A hand on your lower back, a kiss to your temple, the softness in his actions all the more apparent. You like that he doesn’t bring it up, that he trusts you enough to deal with it in your own way, but is there all the same. 

And over time you've noticed the way he softens around you, how on guard he is with others, a snake poised and ready to bite, the tough shell melting away the minute you’re alone, the way he instinctively leans into your touch when you brush an eyelash from his cheek. It’s all so familiar, so comfortable. He doesn’t mind that you’re opinionated and strong, that you talk for hours but rather inclines his head in your direction as he listens, and his eyes pierce into yours with such intensity that your hands will fidget with the hem of your shirt and the hairs on your neck prickle with embarrassment. 

In those rare moments when you find yourself saying something he doesn’t agree with, he steps forward and silences you with a kiss and you’re torn between indignation and softening against him, and the latter always wins over and your hands will find purchase on the planes of his stomach as his abs flex underneath you and Rindou knows he’s won again, as he always does.

So even though the three words are heavy and thick in his mouth, and he wants nothing more than to have the courage and ease to say them, he can’t. Or rather doesn’t. He knows the words are often thrown around without merit or credibility, that it’s something anyone might say at any time. He’s seen it before. A man mutters the words against a woman’s neck as her legs clench around his hips, conveniently forgetting he has a wife at home he says the same thing to, and Rindou’s lip curls in disgust as Sanzu leads them through the club. Something inside him feels sick and nauseous and he blocks the sound of them out, focusing instead on the plush carpet underneath his feet and he thinks of you, and wonders if you’re waiting for him to come back home.

So no, Rindou has never told you he loves you, but he does. He really does, and he hopes you know it all the same, that his actions speak for him, enough to say what he’s too afraid to. Maybe one day he might have the courage to do so, he hopes that you wait and believe him till then.

a/n: I think I actually wrote this more than 6 months ago btw, but I was looking through my docs and realized I hadn't posted it yet. I'm proud of it even now, it's just so self indulgent and cute. I hope you all like it (and my love of course, for you!)

taglist: @reiners-milkbiddies @mxnjiros @islascafe @prettyiolanthe @sugusshi @snakegentleman @haitaniapologist @lonnie19 @nafarsiti @bejeweled-night-33 @ranscutedoll @the-travelling-witch @orchid3a @rottingreveries @qiiuusoup-xo @hoetani @sinfulseashell @welcome-to-the-internet-it-sucks @nikokopuffs @obitohno @tetsutits @burnishedcrown @sweet-seishu @sin-and-punishment @keiskyutie @mochimiyaas @theaonlax @bertholdts--butt (if you'd like to be added, let me know!)

#tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #haitani rindou #rindou x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #rindou haitani #tr

[jasonsmirrorball]

OCTOBER 21: TOUCHING YOU, TOUCHING ME JASON TODD

kinktober prompt: mutual masturbation

synopsis. jason needs to learn restraint. hands to himself, or it's all over

cw: f!reader, mention of bruising, mutual masturbation, dirty talk (?) minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact

“Hands off.”

Jason blinks back at you, stunned and you have to bite back a smirk at the expression. Lazily trailing your eyes over his face, you take him in. Kneeled over you, he would seem intimidating if not for the pause he takes at your words, lashes fluttering in confusion as his hands hover over your waist. 

He’d been moments away from manhandling you further into the bed, an experience you were sure you’d find enjoyable on any other occasion–an experience you had found very enjoyable, just last night. You’d planned on re-experiencing it again tonight, and had been looking forward to it, right up until you’d woken up to the smattering of bruises all along your hips and thighs, blooms of blue and purple that had you startling in the shower.

“Sweetheart?”

“Don’t you ‘sweetheart’ me.” You point an accusing finger at him. “You’re not touching me tonight. Or any other night, for the next two weeks.”

His eyes grow wide, lips parting in bewilderment. “What? What did I do?”

You scoff. “I’ll show you, don’t worry.”

You peel the edge of your slip up, and his face colours when you display the assortment of blemishes to him. 

“Aw, baby, I’m sorry,” he rumbles, leaning down to press closer until he’s nosing at your cheek. You turn the other way, lip jutting out in a pout. “Lemme make it up to you? I promise I’ll be gentle.”

“You don’t know to,” you sniff, but allow his lips to skate along your collar, hands still pressing into the mattress on either sides of you. 

“Swear I’ll be good,” he murmurs, voice turning pleading for a brief moment as he kisses your skin and you let out a shaky sigh. Your hands come up to rest in his hair, letting him continue to lick at your neck, teeth grazing along it so lightly it makes you shiver. “See, you already feel good, don’t you?”

“Mmh..Jason…” his name comes out in a sigh, your head lolling back to afford him more space and he huffs out a pleased laugh. But you shift and your thigh twinges–it isn’t unbearable, but the ache is unpleasant enough to ground you, and you catch his hand just as it raises once more to slide up your thigh. “I said hands off.”

He draws back, obedient, though not without a barely concealed whine, mouth turning down in a petulant pout. You feel a little mean, taking pleasure in the sight of him like this, teetering on disheveled and pupils blown wide til all there’s left of his irises are thin rings of teal around onyx. Your eyes trail down, to where his hard length is apparent through the fabric of his sweats, thick and straining against his thigh.

“Touch yourself.”

The words leave your mouth before you realise you’ve thought them, and your boldness surprises you and Jason both. But your boyfriend only raises a brow before he’s tugging his pants down and kicking them away, taking his aching length in his hand. You swallow at the sight of him, tip angry and weeping around his fist.

He grunts a bit as his thumb swipes over his head, smearing the pre over his cock as he begins to stroke himself. He’s kneeled between your legs, and you sink further into the pillows as you stare, your own fingers tapping at the hem of your slip. He’s beautiful as he touches himself, fist tightening and lips parting to let a breathy moan slip past. Your eyes flutter at the sound, underscored by the soft, slick sounds of his strokes, your own panties growing damper by the second. 

Your thighs squeeze together, and he catches the movement, letting out a raspy laugh. 

“You like that, baby? Watching me touch myself f’you?”

You breathe out shakily, chin tilted to gaze up at him. A red flush settles over his face, cheeks hot as he keeps his eyes trained on you. You draw your lip into your mouth and he groans. 

Emboldened by his reaction and under his watchful gaze, you drag a trembling hand up your side, the fabric of your slip following until it settles around your hips. You spread your legs, knees parting to show him the seat of your underwear. 

“Fuck,” he gasps out and you grin, fingers dancing along the waistband to pull the sides down and off your legs. He looks conflicted, face screwing up desperately when you kick your underwear off, baring your pussy to him. “Playing fuckin’ dirty, baby.”

“Should’ve learned how to be gentler,” you murmur teasingly, a little bite in your tone as you grin at him. It’s utterly bratty and you’re sure if he wanted to, he could take you over his lap for it. But Jason only gives you a lopsided smile back, wrecked.

Your fingers finally slip between your legs, matching his pace and rubbing circles around your clit. There’s already a considerable amount of mess, slick smearing across your folds with each movement of your fingers and you whimper, hips canting up as you struggle to keep your eyes open. 

There’s little to be said then, the room filling with soft pants and moans that only spur you on faster as your control begins to unravel. Jason, similarly, is looser lipped, and you find yourself reaching a hand out to tug him closer, until he hovers over you once more. It’s filthy, the way you draw him into an open mouthed kiss, spit slicked mouths sliding against each other and swallowing the other’s whines. 

He’s close but takes care not to break your rule, save for the bump of his fingers against yours as you touch yourselves. Just when his tongue is sliding against yours, and you’re crying out, your stomach begins to tighten and you moan louder into him.

“Mmh… ‘m coming,” you mumble desperately against his lips, a hiccup twisting your breath as it expels from your chest.

“Close, baby,” he chokes out, and your hips buck under your ministrations, coming with a strangled moan. Jason breaks quickly, too, and you ride out your high as he spills over your thighs, painting your sweaty skin in ropes of white. 

He’s breathing hard over you, teal eyes wide and lips parted. You only grin back weakly, slumping backwards into the pillows with a loud sigh. He flops onto his back beside you after wiping your stomach off, a hand coming to settle on your still bent knee, thumb skimming gently across the skin.

“So,” Jason begins, and your eyes flutter open at the lighthearted tone he takes on, “you were kidding when you said I can’t touch you for the next two weeks, right?”

You let out a breathy laugh, rolling onto your side. “Keep dreaming, baby.”

You ignore the noise he makes in his throat in favour of reaching for the lamp, dispelling the light and blanketing the room in darkness. Behind you, you can sense his expression, wide eyed and jaw dropped.

“Baby–”

“Goodnight, Jason.”

i wrote this the day it was due instead of sticking to the schedule i planned out for kinktober because the last few weeks have left me so ??? and i've been avoiding everything which is so fun. anyway i’m not sure i’m happy with this, it feels a bit janky but i hope you enjoy this somewhat. i promise to do better by the next one.

#mangacap by schizo-demon #mdni banner by benkeibear #jay my heart #jasonsmirrorball #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #jason todd imagine #x reader #kinktober 2023 #ro's kinktober '23

[love-toxin]

Ellie what the fUCK ARE YOU DOING

Camboy Leon? Huh?? You’re gonna drop that and not elaborate? Didn’t realize you were such a PRUDE /j

I would pay so much money to see this guy’s onlyfans, it’s not even funny anymore

(It’s worth noting that I’ve been having an absolute existential crisis every time I think about dick. Leon’s dick would probably cure all of my chronic illness; both mental and physical)

stands over you menacingly :) camboy leon you shall have teehee <3 dare me to expand this into a full fic ehe

(cws: camboy!leon, masturbation, voyeurism, piercings, pining, work crushes)

Leon who works with you at the DSO and, for a special agent, seems pretty neutral. he's stoic but has that dry sense of humour you love, puffing out teasing comments here and there whenever he has the chance. he's admired by everyone but never has any girls on his arm, never dates, never does more than purse his lips in secrecy when the guys boast about their sexual exploits. but even so, his tight-lipped response to anything like that gives him more charm–up until people finally start letting it go in favour of bigger, juicier gossip. but you never do, because even though you're just an intern, you can only dream of what it would be like to have a man like Leon. scratch that, you really just want Leon, because he's the whole package in your eyes even though you can't imagine him ever even sparing you a glance.

but one day, months after the Graham rescue mission, your night gets a little….lonely. Leon's been the talk of the office for weeks since he got back, with everyone swapping stories about his exploits and feeding you so much delicious fodder for your wildest fantasies about your work crush–and one day, hoping to try and pry him off of your mind, you click around the web for a bit until you stumble across an explorer page for a new, adult website.

obviously the curiosity gets to you when you spot the directory of public users, each and every one offering "services" for interested viewers–and you scroll through it for quite a while, searching through the names and checking out a few clips until you come across one that really catches your eye.

blondie.scott → new video available!

his profile photo is cute–it's just a cropped photo of his fingers throwing up a peace sign, although it's positioned over his lap where you can clearly see a dark, thick outline in his light-coloured sweatpants. clicking over to his video list, you've got an impressive library to peek through of free videos he offers, with only a few at the top being locked behind a subscriber paywall. the first one you click on looks pretty tame, but even so it has you sweating as the video buffers and you nearly end up shutting it off completely.

but because you're just too curious, you wait for it to start. and when it does, you get an eyeful of this smooth-chested, rough-voiced, absolute adonis of a man touching himself while the camera records it all from the neck down. he grips his cock with tight, long strokes that feel so needy–and it's pretty too, thick and ruddy at the tip and always glistening as he rubs his precum up and down the shaft, occasionally swirling his thumb round the slit to draw a buck from his hips and a groan out of his throat. being shirtless as he does it with his boxers tucked up underneath his hips, your mouth goes dry at the sight of two shiny barbells of silver nestled by each of his plush nipples. piercings. whoever this guy is, he's bold. and he's just….to die for, c'mon. and you can't even get the image of him cumming out of your mind, the raspy whines as he cusses up a storm and the frantic twitches of his cock while it spurts rope after rope all over his hand…your sleep is restless that night, because every time you close your eyes you can only see that handsome stranger fucking his hand like you wish you could get fucked. it's been so long you feel like a virgin at this point.

after that first video, you're hooked. before you know it, you've made a habit of watching this blondie guy's videos and you look forward to cracking open your browser at the end of a long day, especially when things get extra hectic at the DSO. often you're stuck at your desk for long stretches of time then, and after awhile it becomes so routine you slip up a bit and watch some of his clips when you're left alone in the office, drowning in a sea of paperwork when it's late enough at night that nobody else would even consider coming by. it's pretty easy to cover up, but even still some of his videos just rile you up so much you end up leaving a wet, sticky spot in your chair that you're forced to scrub off before your coworkers come in the next morning.

that doesn't mean the site is erased from your computer, though. it doesn't mean it's not accessible just because you've got a passcode to unlock your desktop. and if a certain somebody–who knows your birthday and has a bit of a thing for you–were to take a peek and see what you've been busy watching…well, he'll be quite pleased that you've got such good taste. and maybe he'll make a video just for you, just to hint that he knows your little secret just like you know his.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #re4make #resident evil 4 #resident evil #spicy writing #ellie writes #anons

[greedyhoneyz]

Sympin’ Ain’t Easy

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･pairing: richarlison x singer!reader

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･synposis: they say getting your girlfriend’s name tattooed on you is a bad omen. richarlison thinks not.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･cw: brief mention of blood? tattoos.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･authors notes: i love his nose. i used google translate.

The rhythmic beat that pulsed from the loudspeakers overhead cooled Richarlison.

He lay on his stomach, his chin pressed against the head of the massage table. His jaw sat clenched, a line appearing between his brows as they drew together. His lips set into a hard line, and his nostrils flared as he took a sharp breath.

His back throbbed and pulsated. A pricking sensation shot down his spine as a thin needle pierced against his flesh.

In perfect calligraphy, her name stood bold and tall against his brown skin. The letters that formed her, entangled with each other and blended flawlessly.

A concoction of blood and ink stained his skin before a gloved hand wiped it away.

Bopping his head to the beat pounding from the overhead speakers, Richarlison lay stiffly. The only body part that moved, apart from his head, was his thumb as it smoothed across the screen of his phone.

Occasionally he would pass a smile to the artist attending his back or throw out a quick remark to a friend before returning his attention to his phone.

A couple of hours had passed with Richarlison now upright and sore, his two legs straddling either side of the massage table. He hunched over slightly as the tattoo artist wiped over his fresh piece, flinching at the pinching sensation that flickered across his skin.

Relieved and fatigued, Richarlison kept a careful gaze on his back through the reflection of a mirror. He smiled tiredly and craned his head, skimming his eyes across each letter now permanently marked across his skin.

“(name)…” He breathed softly. He could practically hear her yelling at the top of her lungs, scolding him for being so careless.

She took pride in the art marked across his skin, her gentle fingertips often finding themselves across his figure tracing his artwork, caressing them with such care and attention it lulled him to slumber.

She respected, and appreciated the choices he made to colour his body— encouraged him mostly. However, she forbade the idea of brandishing.

“It’s a bad omen.” She would often say. “It’ll destroy our relationship.”

Richarlison didn’t believe that to be true, it was her fear talkin’.

Her fear— that one day they’d break apart and he’d be left scorned and scarred with the remnants of their relationship permanently blemished on his skin.

She loved him and he loved her; their love was a perfect brew of his bold passion and her unconditional tenderness.

Studying the tattoo closely, Richarlison affirmed to himself. I’ll prove her wrong.

Turning away from the mirror, Richarlison paddd through his contacts on his phone and pressed her name, ringing her through FaceTime.

His phone vibrated and sang for a while before (name) picked up. She held her phone on her lap, her camera angled upwards at her chin.

She was seated on what seemed to look like a parlour chair, her upper half hidden beneath a robe whilst her makeup artist lightly dabbed blush onto her ample cheeks. Her eyes were shut, her shoulders tense as the hair stylist behind her fiddled with her hair.

“Meu amor!” Lifting her phone from her lap, (name) held it up to her line of sight, muttering a “yeah”. Slowly, she opened her eyes and steadied her gaze onto her phone.

Richarlison stood up tall, his arms tucked by his sides— his phone held by a friend. “Look! You see!”

“Agh!” With wide eyes and a slack jaw, (name) gaped. She traced her eyes over her boyfriend’s back and shrieked, which garnered the interest of her glam team who fixed their attention towards her phone. “What did you do?!”

richarlison

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liked by yourusername and 1,345,201 others

richarlison eu vou te amar para sempre

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username673 this is crazy

username7833 never thought id see the day

username0913 richarlisons a simp now????

username5701 imagine they breakup

username8642 girl hes never leaving her

username1095 what she do to have him doing all that??? teach me sis!!

username3087 exactly! i need a rule book now!

username119 noo!!!!! she’s brainwashing my man!!!

#richarlison x reader #richarlison x black!reader #richarlison imagine #black!reader #football imagine #football x reader #football fanfic #football fanfiction #social media au

[abiiors]

Veee could you write something with matty where reader is also an artist (a way less known one) and its just pure fluff with both of them being inspired by one another?

Feel free to ignore ofc!!🫶🫶🫶

muse - matty x reader

a/n: this took a very different direction than originally planned and got slightly existential sorry about that 💀💀 but i hope you like it regardless <33

divider by @/cafekitsune

cw: mentions of smut, talks of death, general fluff and sappiness.

the artist flicks through the feature.

her name is printed in big letters on the cover of the monthly issue, her face--smiling and excited--next to the centrepiece of her latest art collection: cupid and psyche. the painting is stunning, a riot of bold colours and patterns but the at the centre is a man, his face hidden, his jet black curls tousled. his body is relaxed, she thinks there's an air of carefreeness about him.

and she'd know that for sure, after all that day is etched into her memory.

when she feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around her, she smiles.

"you're rather proud of the feature, aren't you?" matty's voice holds a little teasing note. she's stared at the feature for close to thirty minutes now, discreetly pinching herself in the same spot on her arm. (it sports a tiny, barely-there bruise now)

"good," matty nuzzles his face into her neck, softly kissing the skin, "you should be. the exhibit was fucking gorgeous."

"mmm, because you were the centrepiece?" fondly, she teases back, but the memory flashes in front of her eyes--the bustling art gallery, matty in a corner, wearing a plain hoodie and jeans and a cap hiding half of his face, absolutely brimming with pride.

she remembers the journalists asking about the man in all the paintings, the one whose face no one can see. "he's my muse," she says every time, "this collection is dedicated to him."

"someone's going to connect the dots," matty walks around her, settling himself next to her on the sofa. instantly, they rearrange themselves into a tangle--her legs on his lap, his arm around her, her head on his shoulders, his head on hers. "if they looked carefully, they'll make the connection."

"matty, we have been each other's muse for years and no one's found out. i don't think they're going to start now. besides," she snorts, "i think the art world thinks i've made you up in my mind. won't be the first time an artist's gone insane."

matty laughs. "maybe you have. you always say i'm too good to be true."

when she can't think of a retort, she sticks her tongue out, shrieking away when he smothers her in kisses.

"seriously though, it's fun writing about you. singing about you. and i love seeing myself through your eyes." suddenly matty sounds all sober and serious. she thinks his voice even wavers slightly at the end. he blinks quickly though, and just like that the brightness in his eyes is gone.

"love it when you write about me too," she teases, "love being called a gemini and a sexy girl, such poetry."

"oi! i put my heart into that! it's a precious memory for me."

"the memory of us fucking in the new bath for the first time?"

matty giggles like a teenager, hiding his face in her hair. it's fun to rile him up like this, so she continues, poking him in the ribs. "or waking up the next day with a head cold because we stayed in the cold water for so long hmm?"

"you took care of me though, and so i think you deserve to have a song written about you. or a whole album works too i think." then matty tuts. "actually, no. don't wanna tell anyone it's about you, that'll ruin the magic."

"ruin the magic?"

"of being your muse and having you as mine. i think a hundred years from now, when people would see your art as the artwork of this generation, and my music as the tune of our times--"

"tune of our times..."

"yeah, quit laughing at me!" matty flicks her nose, quickly kissing it after. "so when my music becomes the tune of our times, i think people will see it then. they will make the connections."

secretly, she loves the idea--that their love might transcend time and space through their art. that decades from now their names might be whispered together, even though they aren't just yet.

"of course, we'll be buried together by then. same grave by the way, very romeo and juliet of us."

"that's morbid!" she laughs sharply, "what will the epitaph say?"

matty hums for a bit, thinking, his eyes flutter shut for a second or two almost like he needs to focus on the half formed thought until it's a complete sentence. then he excitedly clears his throat and gently holds her face between his hands.

"here lie the artist and the muse; inspiring each other in death as they did in life."

#✉️ #♤: matty blurbs #matty healy #matty healy x reader

[vlrspace]

cw: fmk game, make out session towards the end, -MNDI!!-

wc: 2.1K

an: this just popped into my mind a few days ago and i feel like this is how shoto would react to this game. i hope you all like it :))

only a few weeks left before your high school years at ua end, but that didn’t stop you from having fun before your big exams. momo invited you girls to stay at her house (mansion) for the night so the boys can have the dormitory for themselves.

after many hours of playing different games, all boys were chilling around the common room, all sofas occupied. in the middle, a few of the coffee tables were pushed together and on top there were different types of snacks, sodas and a few boxes of pizza. they were all consumed in a comfortable atmosphere, before kaminari came up with an idea.

“we could play fck, marry, kiss” he exclaimed with a huge smirk lingering in his face as he looked around the room to see his friends’ reaction. most looked at him with a bewildered expression and bakugou yelled at him for his ‘stupid idea’, but that only egged him on. “okay, i’ll go first. eijiro, fck, marry, kiss with ochaco, mina and momo” kaminari winked and kirishima’s face was slightly coated in with a soft blush.

“i’ll kiss ocaco, fck momo and marry mina” he answered unsurely, not wanting to offend anyone. he then realised that everyone was looking at him expectantly so he turned towards midoriya “umm, ocaco, (y/n) and jiro”

the greenette started to stutter out words that eventually turned into mumbles but bakugou barked at him to stop. midoriya stayed silent for a while after that before shyly saying his answer. “kiss jiro, fck (y/n) and marry ochaco.” midoriya’s face was on fire when he said the words and before anyone could tease him, he turned towards iida and asked him a question. then iida asked sero who after answering, felt a bit bold and asked bakugou. bakugou nearly exploded the room before answering and then he turned towards todoroki.

“oi, icyhot! (y/n), smart girl and that frog girl” bakugou smirked at the bi coloured boy, rather curious about todoroki’s answer. todoroki seemed to be in his thoughts during the game so when he finally said what’s on his mind, the eyes in the room went wide.

“if you marry someone, doesn’t it mean that you get to do both things with them? if i marry (y/n), then it doesn’t matter if i choose momo to fck or tsu to kiss, because i get to do all that with (y/n) if i marry her” todoroki quietly explains, his face is slightly flushed at the thought of you.

he isn’t really sure when he started to feel slightly more towards you than a friend, but he knows just how much he cares for you and wants to be around and with you. todoroki admires you for many things, such as your little ways of making sure everyone is taking care of themselves, when you pick flowers for his mum or how you go out of your way (even on the most tiresome days) to make him some cold soba when he feels down. you always have this kind of glow to yourself, where everyone feels safer and not afraid to be themselves, knowing you wouldn’t judge them. also, let’s not talk about your beauty, todoroki is absolutely smitten, he thinks you’re beautiful and mesmerising and everything you do is pretty (awesome) as well.

“now that we look at it that way, shoto is right. IM MARRYING KYOKA NO MATTER WHAT!” kaminari jumped up and down while ‘claiming’ jiro and the his friends only laughed at him.

“shoto-kun, are you not afraid that your indirect admittance is going to get out and (y/n) will know about your crush on her?” midoriya turned towards shoto and whispered to him.

todoroki only leaned back into the pillowy cushions and hummed softly before a small smile spread across his lips.

“i trust her enough to not make a big deal about it and whatever her response is, i will respect it” he quietly replied and just like that, the night went on.

you girls returned from your girls’ night the next day, well into the afternoon. you were quite relieved to be back, hoping the boys didn’t cause any ruckus and after many hours of gossiping, make up and hair styling, it was relaxing to do something else. it isn’t like you hate spending time with girl friends, you love them so much and you’re so grateful for them (and the boys too), but after many hours of socialisation, you just want to wind down.

after catching up with the boys about how your nights went (they left the fmk game out), you head towards your room, unaware of todoroki following you at first but when you feel his presence, you turn around to find him with a soft expression adorning his face.

“shoto, how was your night with the boys?” you ask him with a big smile and the two of you continue to head towards the elevators.

“it was fun, the others beat me in the games however” he frowned but it quickly disappeared and was replaced with a small smile when he heard you laugh. “how was your night with the girls?” he returns your question.

“it’s okay shoto, i’m not so good at playing video games either” you reassure him as you step into the elevator. “it was amazing, although the amount of make up and hairstyles that was done on me was quite tiring. i feel exhausted” you reply to his question.

“did you not get enough sleep last night (y/n)?” todoroki turns to you, slight concerned.

“sleep is the last thing on the list during sleepovers. it’s alright though, i’m sure i’ll be well rested tomorrow” you gently rub his arm and the worry in his head instantly dissipates, heart beating slightly quicker. “i’ll see you tomorrow shoto, have a good night” you say, when the two of you step out of the elevator, your arms wrap around his torso, hugging him close to you. todoroki’s arms are around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him before you let go and walk backwards to your room with a small wave.

todoroki hopes that nothing will change between the two of you if you come to learn about his crush.

it does change many things when mina practically jumps on you the second you open you door. it’s the next day, you’re busy studying in your room when you hear someone, not knocking but banging on your door. you can barely understand a word she’s saying, mina is too excited, throwing her thoughts at you when she steps inside and you have to drag her by the arms to your bed to get her attention.

“mina, i can’t understand a word you’re saying. what’s up?” you ask her with eyebrows furrowed, your face is morphed into a confused one.

“shoto has a crush on you!” she exclaims, excitedly grabbing your arms and her lips spread into a wide grin across her face. your confusion grows more at her words, not knowing if you heard her wrong. did she just say that your best friend and longtime crush liked you? ain’t no way.

“what?” you weakly let out, unsure how you should react to the information you just received. if it’s true then your whole relationship with todoroki will change for the better and if not then you hope that at least he stays your friend. “how do you know and from who?” you ask, your curiosity taking over you.

before she could reply, the girls come into your room, excitedly asking if she told you yet, all of them knowing about your crush on the bicoloured boy. when they settle down around you two, mina begins to explain where and from who she knows it from.

“okay, so on saturday after getting bored of the games, denki apparently popped up with the idea of paying ‘fck, marry, kiss’ and all boys were asked the question with different girls. so kacchan felt like he had to challenge shoto and asked him who would he choose out of tsu, momo and you.” she began and her hands were flying around while she was explaining the events that took place on saturday that todoroki seemingly left out when the two of you talked the other day, well, no one told you they played that game until now.

“okay, and?” you ask, still confused how they all gathered that todoroki likes you from a stupid game.

“WHAT DO MEAN ‘AND’? shoto said, he’d marry you because he would get to do the other two things with you if you guys are married, so it doesn’t matter if he chose tsu or momo to kiss or have sex with. AND HE WAS BLUSHING” mina is practically yelling at you now and you back away from her on your bed “if this doesn’t mean he likes you then i don’t know what. he literally didn’t care about the other two things or the other two girls, i’m sorry tsu/momo, but you. he likes you back (y/n).” she quieted down a tad bit but she was still loud enough to get her point across.

the girls were looking at you with excitement, you on the other hand weren’t sure how to feel. it could be a misinterpretation for all you know and you could come out of it badly if it is a mistake. a reassuring hand made its way to yours and you look at the owner.

“izuku has been helping him to confess to you all day, but it was easier if you heard about the game from us. it isn’t a joke (y/n)-chan, he’s been crushing on you for a long time now” uraraka gives you a warm smile as she looks up at you from her seat on the floor and you know she wouldn’t lie to you, mainly if midoriya knew about it too, then it must be true.

“what should i do now?” you ask your friends shakily, unaware of todoroki standing outside the door, waiting for you with midoriya. they all stand up with a smile and open the door to let your crush in and you abruptly stand up with wide eyes while they all leave you two alone.

“i was planning for my confession to be more romantic” he stands infront of you with a sincere look and his smile is bigger than what he usually lets you see. todoroki takes one of your hands to pull you closer while the other tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and tenderly holds your cheek. “a few birds told me that you’d might feel the same. is it true?” he leans down to your height to get closer to you and you can only swallow before nodding shyly. “good, because i really want to take you out tomorrow” his lips are now touching yours and you feel them as he talks. “is that alright?” he whispers and you can only respond with your lips smashing against his.

your cup his cheeks and his hands find their way to your waist and pulling you close, deepening the kiss. the two of you only pull away for a short while before kissing each other again, this time he slips his tongue through and you feel your legs get slightly wobbly as you pull him down even more to your height but he’s leaning into you so much that your leaning backwards, not breaking the kiss.

it turns more hungry by the second, his tongue not leaving yours and his hands wander down to your butt, squeezing and caressing it. you let out small moans, though they get swallowed up by todoroki and you pull on his hair, making him groan into the kiss. trying to make an attempt to pull away and take a break but you’re unable to when he chases after you and catches you in another make out session. you only manage to break away from him after he’s heaving from being breathless and you loosen your arms around his neck with a small grin. todoroki mimics your expression and leans his forehead against yours.

“i can’t wait to marry you one day” he mumbles against your lips softly and you feel your face growing red by the second as you giggle.

(five years later, the story of how the two of you got together was told by kaminari at your wedding, unaware of your first child growing inside you. safe to say, todoroki did get to do all the things with you, and he wouldn’t change it for the world)

#shouto x reader #bnha x reader #shoto todoroki x you #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x y/n #shoto x you #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x you #shoto todoroki x reader

[wri0thesley]

cw: yandere.

Barbatos and Rex Lapis cannot agree who you really belong to. The problem with godhood is thus; neither of them wishes to be outdone.

Your parents had not been able to agree where to raise you.

In those quiet years after the Archon Wars, when Teyvat was settling down, your mother and father had both argued for their side. Your mother, a Mondstadt native and a poetess, had spoken at length about the freedom of her land and the possibilities that Barbatos would lay out for you on fertile ground. Your father, a staid Liyuean farmer, had pointed to Rex Lapis's stolid and steadfast contracts, and the promise of a land that would build itself on wealth and commerce. A fortune, perhaps made for you.

In the end, though, they had built their little home skirting the boundaries of both. You had grown up worshiping your father's and your mother's gods, happy to have your family, happy to be in a time of peace. When they had passed away, you had seen no reason to choose to honour one over the other - you thought yourself blessed by both. The wind, just bold and abundant enough to play with your hair and tickle lightly across your skin, to make the Windwheel Asters in your garden spin. The rocks and bricks of your home and the cliffs that towered beside it unmoving and unchanging, an impenetrable fortress. You left out wine for Barbatos just as often as you left out pretty stones you thought Rex Lapis would appreciate, perfumes and oils for the warrior god who protected a homeland you have begun to think of as half your own.

You think yourself above notice. A humble denizen of Mondstadt-and-Liyue, your little house a haven for travellers between the two who need a moment to rest. Perhaps they need their flask filled once more, a bite to eat on their arduous journey, company and talk after lonely days of walking alone. You strive to be a good person. Someone worthy of the charmed life you feel yourself to be living. You do not ask for much - but what you have, you have in happy handfuls.

You thank the archons for their blessings - devout, and grateful, and lovely . . . and the Archons take notice.

Not that you realise they do.

But your crops grow bountiful and storms do not batter at your doors and windows, and any who may think to do you harm - bandits or monsters alike - never seem to make it into your line of sight, much less to your door. You grow familiar with those who traverse from Liyue to Mondstadt often - those who have business between the two, those who visit their friends and their family. You know the drivers of the carriages and carts that take freshly caught boar from Springvale to Liyue Harbour's exclusive restaurants. You know the merchants carrying their cor lapis, carved in exquisite pendants, hoping to hawk their wares in Mondstadt too--

You know the handsome bard with the twin braids and the roguish smile, who plays you your favourite song in exchange for an apple and lingers with you just a little too long to be decent, elegant fingers plucking absent-mindedly at his lyre when his eyes flicker over your face. You know the melodic cadence of his voice - and you know, too, whenever you ask him to play a Liyuean ballad your father had loved, he laughs and shakes his head.

"But this is Mondstadt," he says to you, a smile on his face. "Let me play you something more romantic!"

You know the serious gentleman who sometimes strolls past your humble cottage with his nose in a book. He tells you that he is on his way to visit a . . . friend, in Mondstadt. He is unfailingly polite when he asks if he may rest a while - and he repays your freshly brewed tea and home-cooked treats with stories, told in a low, soothing voice that feels like waves lapping upon a shore.

His stories make you wonder if he was really there. He looks a mortal man - though a handsome one, with a sculpted face and sharp cheekbones and eyes the colour of warm amber - but he speaks like someone who has seen the world go by and expects to see even more of it. He tells you about beautiful things and terrible things, folklore and history wrapped up in velvet voice and dulcet tone--

But when you ask him to tell you a story you once heard, a fairy tale from Mondstadt . . . he shakes his head at you. The smallest smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

"This is Liyuean ground," he says to you, voice like water rushing over river stones until they have worn smooth. "I don't know many stories about Mondstadt."

Barbatos and Rex Lapis cannot agree.

"It is my wind that feeds their crops," says Barbatos, over wine, a sly smile on his face. "They grow dandelions in their garden." The delicate fingers and pretty face do not at all bely the steel that lays beneath his clothing, the tricksy words of a bard who knows how to get what he wants. Barbatos thinks of your mouth, sweet as dandelion wine. He wonders what your voice would sound like, pitching in pleasure.

"And my land that builds their home," says Rex Lapis, voice low and dangerous, knife-edged. The gentleman Zhongli is gone for this meeting of minds; a crown of golden horns wreaths Rex Lapis's head, his teeth as sharp as his words. "Stones of Liyue that keep them safe."

Rex Lapis thinks of your fingers, and how they would feel curled into his hair. How small and delicate you would be beneath him; a treasure to be picked over, to be admired, to be cherished - a precious thing indeed.

"The war is over," Barbatos reminds him, with a laugh. "We ought not fight now, old friend."

"Who says we are fighting?" Rex Lapis asks. He raises his own glass to his lips and takes a slow sip. He does not take his amber eyes away from the Anemo Archon for a moment - nothing is fair in love, and nothing is fair in war. Rex Lapis intends to have both.

"They're not some spoils to be claimed," Barbatos replies, and winks at his old friend. "Come, let's not fight over them."

"You say that only because you know you would be outmatched in battle."

Barbatos is usually able to take such barbs to his pride. But the thought of you . . . ah. He has, perhaps, let you invade too many of his senses. Let the ghost of you walk beside him when he strolls his land and watches his people from afar - come to look forward to the delight on your face when he plays you a pretty tune, the way you proffer only your shiniest, reddest apples even without knowing his true providence.

He should have taken you when he had the chance; spirited you away to some favourite green corner of Mondstadt to be his forever and always. Where he could watch you and sing for you and take you for his. Would you say no to being lover of a god?

Rex Lapis watches the flicker of his old friend's eyes. He thinks about you. Wishes, when he had the chance, he had claimed you - as a dragon would claim treasure. You are too rare and precious a thing to be left alone - even Barbatos has seen through his drunken haze to the vein of pure gold that runs through your heart.

He wishes he had taken you himself. Captured you in some adeptal abode, where time will not touch you - where only he can go. Where you will come to long for his voice and the touch of his clever fingers and his hands upon you.

If your home had not straddled the boundary . . . would they even have wanted you? If you were firmly in Mondstadt, would you have even caught Rex Lapis's notice? If you were in Liyue proper, would Barbatos have ever taken time to play you a song?

It does not matter.

Gods are proud creatures, and you are an enigma. A mystery to be unlocked, a riddle to be solved, a prize to be won and jealously guarded. Nothing is more of a frustration than a thing that does not seem to fit. It does not matter that you are a person and not a chess piece when the players have divinity on their side, and both want you for their own.

They clink wine glasses and smile at one another, but inside they are planning and planning and planning.

#concept postin #genshin impact posting #yandere for ts #concept posting

[autistic-zukoao3]

Bold+Contrasting Colours!

I made these to represent "meltdown" bc I didn't have any on my AAC app.

As before, feel free to use if you want!

#aac user #aac positivity #aac #aac picture board #aac board #autistic meltdown #meltdown #bold colors #cw bold colours #contrasting colors #cw contrasting colours

[ghosttotheparty]

a mess of holy things 11 also on ao3 // prev // next cw: slight dumbification; brief gagging/choking; they’re both Kinda Weird

“No, I’m telling you it’s not something I can tell you about in public.”

“I’m aware,” Robin retorts, keys jingling as she leads Steve down the hallway. “I just think you could lower your voice if you tried really hard.”

“It’s not my volume I’m worried about,” Steve says, scoffing. “I just know you’re going to scream or something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m so calm. All the time.”

“Lies.”

She makes a noise that means she’s sticking her tongue out at him as she unlocks her door, and he follows her inside, looking around. There are two beds on the opposite end of the room, facing opposite directions, and Steve doesn’t even have to ask to know which side of the room is Robin’s.

Her bed is unmade, a colourful quilt folded back to reveal white and yellow striped sheets. Her pillowcases are mismatched, one dark blue and the other spotted with bumblebees. There are posters on the wall above her bed, but Steve doesn’t recognize any of the people on them. His eyes skim the words, the letters all bold, loud. Sonic Youth, Green Day, Sex Pistols.

Robin kicks off her shoes and nudges them toward her desk, where they join her other shoes, scuffed and dirty Converse All-Stars and worn leather boots with mismatched laces, one shoe yellow and the other purple. Steve copies her as they drop their backs, looking at her desk. It’s a little cluttered, pens scattered across it, an origami bird on a small stack of books. There are post-its on the wall in front of her desk, colorful and vibrant. Her handwriting is messy.

Robin throws herself onto her bed as Steve takes off his jacket, looking at the other side of the room. There are a few posters but nowhere near as many as Robin has. One is of a handsome man, smiling softly, and when Steve looks closer, he finds text on the corner of it that reads Tom Cruise. Another is of a few teenagers all posing together with The Breakfast Club at the bottom.

The bed is made neatly, the blanket soft pink and tucked in. The pillows have matching pillowcases, also pink with lacy frills, and there’s a teddy bear resting against them.

“Steve,” Robin says sharply from her bed. “Stop looking around like you’re in a museum and tell me what’s up.”

Steve exhales heavily and goes to her bed, tossing his jacket to land on her desk chair as he falls onto his back in front of her.

“I don’t know how to say it.”

“Words would be preferable.”

He scoffs and sits up, moving to sit cross-legged, tugging at the quilt so it’s not folded against his leg.

“Okay, I…”

His face is already hot, and Robin is already grinning, and he hates this.

“Did you fuck?” she says excitedly, and he groans loudly.

“Okay, we— No, we didn’t have sex, we…” He pauses, face hot, cheeks sore from smiling so widely. Robin’s eyes are wide and shining as she grins at him, shifting so she’s kneeling across from him, bouncing up and down. “We did… something. It wasn’t sex. It was…”

“Tell me,” she says giddily. “Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

“Okay, I…” He covers his face, sighing heavily. “I was— I was curious. So I asked if he… does it.”

“Masturbates,” Robin says pointedly, and he rolls his eyes, letting his head fall back.

“Yes. That.”

“Okay,” she says, eyebrows raised.

“And he said he does. So I…” He winces, looking away, squishing his cheeks between his palms. She reaches out and pokes him. “I asked if I could see.”

She stares at him, jaw dropped, grinning widely.

“So he jerked off in front of you?”

“…Yeah?”

She claps a hand over her mouth, staring and staring and staring, and he waits, still wincing.

“Oh my God,” Robin says brightly when she drops her hand. “You’re kinky.”

“…I don’t know what that means.”

She lets out a loud squeal, covering her face before she falls onto her back, cackling. She kicks her legs out, and Steve dodges them, laughing.

“God, I am so glad I get to be your sex ed teacher,” she says when she finally calms down, sitting up.

“I’ve had sex ed,” he says. “I just… I’m just inexperienced.”

“Oh, I know,” she says. “Look. Kinks are things that people especially like during sexy times. If you can think of anything, someone’s got a kink for it.”

Steve pauses.

“Okay.”

“So your man— Wait, what’s his name again?”

“Eddie,” Steve says bashfully, suppressing a smile.

“Eddie…” Robin coos. “So Eddie jerkin’ it while you watch is called voyeurism, and it's a whole thing.”

Steve blinks. Processes.

“Are… Are kinks only sexual?” he asks hesitantly.

“Generally,” Robin says, tilting her head. “They can be non-sexual, I guess. Why?”

Steve looks at her, pausing.

“We, uhm…”

Her eyes somehow widen even more, and she leans forward, bouncing up and down again.

“Tell me.”

“He spits in my mouth.”

She gawks, and his face flushes with heat again. There’s a long stretch of silence as Robin’s mouth stretches into a slow smile.

“You’re kinky,” she says again.

“Oh my God—”

He shoves at her, but she catches his arm, tugging him so he falls against her, and their limbs tangle as they laugh. Her mouth is right by his ear, and it’s so loud it hurts, but he’s never laughed like this with anyone before. He laughs so hard his stomach hurts and his cheeks are sore, and the two of them roll over so Robin is on top of him. She tries to sit up by pushing on his face, and he squeezes his eyes shut so her fingers don’t poke them.

It takes a long while for them to finally calm down and separate, untangling their legs and pushing each other away as they catch their breath. But every time their eyes meet, they burst into giggles again. They’re both red-faced, and Steve’s stomach hurts, but he feels light, like he doesn’t have to worry about anything at all.

And they keep giggling as they talk, sitting against the wall, hugging Robin’s pillows to themselves. Robin talks him through a lot, stumbling through words and definitions and hypothetical scenarios, which makes Steve kind of want to die, but she’s so casual about it all that he can’t really even be embarrassed.

“Okay, look,” she says finally, her knees drawn to her chest, looking at him intently. “The point is, it doesn’t matter if you know what you’re doing or not, right? As long as everything is cool with both of you, it’s all fine. There’s nothing wrong with anything you like.”

Steve nods, looking down.

“Steve,” Robin says, leaning toward him. Their shoulders touch. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“I know,” Steve says softly, eyes still downcast.

“Do you?”

Steve is quiet, pausing. His fingers twist in his lap, and he squeezes, forcing his knuckles to crack.

“I do,” he says quietly. “I just… It’s hard sometimes.”

Robin sighs softly, and she lets her head fall to rest on his shoulder. No one’s ever laid on Steve’s shoulder before.

He lays his head on Robin’s, closing his eyes.

He can smell her shampoo. It’s sweet and citrusy, and it somehow smells more like home than the hallway of his parents’ house.

“Eddie knows about it,” Steve says after a few quiet moments. “That I… I don’t know. Struggle with it. He actually noticed first.”

“How?” Robin asks, almost whispering, her head shifting so she can sit closer.

“He, uhm…” He hesitates. “We were kissing, and I just… I don’t know. Panicked.”

“What happened?”

Somehow he knows her eyes are closed too.

“He kind of noticed I was freaking out first, and he… asked if I was okay. So we stopped, and I… I couldn’t really breathe, and I just felt so… Bad.” He pauses, and Robin is quiet, waiting patiently. “He helped me calm down and then he… said to take my time.”

“He sounds really great,” Robin says softly after a moment.

“God, he is.”

“You love him?”

Steve scoffs. His throat is suddenly tight.

“Fuck, maybe.”

Robin coos, poking him in the side, and he giggles, slumping over and trying to dodge her as she pokes at him again, and again, and again, until he’s laughing so hard his eyes are squeezed shut and he’s falling onto his side. Robin climbs on top of him, digging her fingers into his ribs. He tries to push her off, but her legs are tight around him, pinning him in place.

He snatches one of her pillows and swings it at her, but she grabs it and shoves it in his face, muffling his laughter.

He finally manages to sit up when she cackles, and he pushes her onto her back. Steve smacks her hands away, his face hot as they jostle on the mattress, and neither of them hear the door open until there’s a gasp before it slams shut.

Robin tilts her head back to look at the door upside down, and she laughs loudly.

“We’re not fucking, Nance!” she calls loudly, and Steve bursts into laughter again, rolling off of her and leaning against the wall again as the door opens again.

“Well I didn’t look long enough to know,” a girl says as she comes inside, making a face at Robin, who sits up and tosses her hair out of her face. The girl looks like Robin’s polar opposite: her hair is styled perfectly, curls into neat spirals, bangs spread across her forehead, and she’s wearing a plaid skirt that reaches her knees with a loose, fluffy-looking cardigan. She’s carrying some books in her arms.

“Steve, Nancy, Nancy, Steve,” Robin says. “Roommate. Best friend.”

“I’m your best friend?” Steve says, looking at her as Nancy toes her shoes off with a scoff. She sets her books on her desk, watching them.

“Unfortunately, yeah.”

“That’s sad.”

They’re distracted by someone else coming through the door after Nancy, and Robin lights up.

“Jonny boy!”

“Robin,” he says dryly, his voice smooth and calm. He doesn’t look like someone that would be hanging out with Nancy, his hair falling in his face, his shirt unbuttoned and dishevelled, but he kicks his shoes off without sorting them neatly like Steve did, and then he goes to Nancy’s bed and flops onto his back, sighing heavily. Nancy rolls her eyes.

“Steve, that’s Jonathan,” Robin says, pointing at him like Steve can’t find him.

“Hi, Jonathan.”

“Hi, Steve.”

Robin rolls onto her stomach, looking across the room as Nancy takes off her cardigan and drapes it over the back of her desk chair. Steve clicks his tongue and smacks her leg when she kicks him.

“Robin,” a voice sings from the doorway, and Robin gasps as another boy comes in, his long hair billowing behind him. He looks nothing like Nancy or Jonathan; he’s wearing vibrant, tie-dyed pants and a teal and blue striped hoodie, and his pants are rolled up to reveal colorful socks that are spotted with smiley faces.

“Argyle,” Robin sings back, tilting her head back to look at him upside down, and Steve cracks a smile, watching, amused. She attempts to wave at Argyle, but she ends up waving at Steve, disoriented from being upside down.

Argyle tosses something to her with a bright, cartoonish whistle, and it lands on her stomach as she gasps, sitting up to look at it and look at it. It’s a package of gummy bears, and Robin lets out an excited noise like she’s a little kid.

“Ugh, Argyle, you’re the love of my life.”

Argyle lets out a wry laugh and he plops himself onto the ground, grinning up at Robin.

“I love you, too, broski.” His eyes look at Steve, brightening even more somehow, even though his eyes still seem to be at half-mast. “Are you Steve?”

“I am,” Steve says lightly.

“You’re so cool, man.”

“…Thanks?”

“I talk about you a lot,” Robin says, already ripping open the gummy bear bag.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Only heard good things so far, my guy,” Argyle says, his voice slow and sage.

“Are you guys already high?” Robin asks, glancing up at Jonathan, tugging the head of a red gummy bear off with her teeth. She holds the bag out to Steve, who takes a few after looking. Jonathan just giggles at the ceiling. “Oh, that’s a yes.”

“I drove,” Nancy says dryly, rummaging through a drawer. “Don’t worry— Jon, where did you put the edibles?”

“I don’t remember.”

Nancy huffs and rolls her eyes.

“You need to stop keeping your shit in my room.”

“They search the guys’ dorms more often than they search the girls’.”

“Not my problem.”

“It would be, because then you wouldn’t have weed.”

“…’S true.”

Steve watches them all curiously, how easily they exchange their words, leaning against the wall, drawing his knees to his chest, nibbling one of the gummy bears in his hand. Jonathan keeps giggling at the ceiling, splayed out like a starfish over Nancy’s bed, his worn and ragged flannel contrasting the soft shades of pink of her bedspread. Nancy sits on her desk chair as they talk, her skirt primly draping over her legs before she gradually leans back, relaxing, swinging her feet in the air. Argyle leans against the side of Nancy’s bed, and he gets distracted by Jonathan’s hand dangling over the side of the bed. He tangles his own fingers with Jonathan’s, smiling softly, playing with his hand quietly.

Nancy is a journalism major, Steve learns after a while.

She complains about one of her teachers, who keeps contradicting his own instructions, telling them to do one thing and then demonstrating by doing the opposite. She groans in frustration, looking up at the ceiling, letting her head fall back, and then she gets up and goes over to her bed. Steve watches curiously as she flops on top of Jonathan, who catches her with a startled Oof! before he wraps his arm around her, keeping his other hand down to hold Argyle’s.

“What do you study, Jonathan?” Steve asks, watching the way he runs his hand over Nancy’s curls and then down her back absently. Her face is hidden in his shoulder.

“Film and photography,” Jonathan says, his eyes visible over Nancy’s hair.

“Like movies and stuff?”

“Mmhmm.”

“God, that sounds so much more interesting than business.”

“You study business?” Argyle says like he’s aghast.

“Yeah?”

“Nah, man,” he says disappointedly, shaking his head in a way that makes it look like he’s dancing, swaying his hair back and forth. “You’re an artist, dude.”

“Am I?” Steve says, tossing a gummy bear in his mouth as Robin snorts.

“Oh, yeah,” Argyle says seriously, nodding. “I can feel it. There’s art in your heart.”

Steve hums thoughtfully.

“That’s nice,” he says lightly. Argyle nods in agreement. Robin snickers into Steve’s shoulder.

─────────────────

Eddie’s fingers drag through Steve’s hair slowly, catching on tangles and undoing them.

His other hand is on Steve’s throat, holding him loosely, lazily, his thumb stroking over Steve’s Adam’s apple, and he smiles when Steve hums softly.

Steve’s legs are across his lap, his hands tucked between the two of them. His fingers are curled into the fabric of Eddie’s t-shirt, pulling him back every time they part for breath. He feels like he’s floating, like the inside of his head is full of cotton, shivering from the slick sounds of their mouths.

“Alright?” Eddie whispers softly when they part with simultaneous gasps. Steve nods, tugging at his shirt, and he’s probably stretching the collar out, but Eddie doesn’t complain.

“Yes,” Steve breathes. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.”

Eddie’s thumb strokes his throat again, and his nose nudges against Steve’s.

“Like making you feel good,” he murmurs. “My sweet boy.”

Steve nods even though Eddie didn’t ask him a question, and Eddie’s hand tightens on his throat. Steve keens, his head falling back a little bit, his lips parting to let out a weak noise.

“So beautiful,” Eddie breathes, and Steve’s eyes flutter open. His vision is blurry as he finds Eddie in front of him, and his lips curve into a smile. Eddie grins, jostling him back and forth gently by his neck. Steve’s smile grows.

Eddie’s lips are reddened and shining. His hair is a little tousled, and his cheeks are pink, and Steve’s stomach flutters.

“What are you thinking?” Eddie asks, touching their foreheads together, playing with Steve’s hair. Steve shrugs a little bit, closing his eyes, and he sighs, breathing Eddie in. He had a cigarette on the way home from work. Steve can smell it, but he doesn’t hate it the way he used to.

He sighs again, his hands shifting on Eddie’s shirt. When he tugs the collar down a little bit, he can see the edges of the tattoos on his chest.

His lips part to speak, but he stops himself.

“What is it?” Eddie whispers, because he doesn't miss anything.

“I…” He hesitates, cheeks flushing with heat, and he fidgets with Eddie’s shirt, tugging it down until he can see the head of the crow. “I touched myself. Thinking about you.”

He hesitates again before he meets Eddie’s eyes, head still ducked, bashful, and Eddie is smiling, head tilted like he’s fond.

“Did you like it?” he asks softly.

Steve nods.

He runs his fingertip over the top of the crow’s head, traces the feathers, and he bites his lip.

“It felt good,” he says quietly.

Eddie hums, running his fingers through Steve’s hair.

“Did you come?”

Steve shakes his head, meeting his eyes again. Eddie holds the back of his head and leans in to kiss him gently. Steve sighs as Eddie lingers there, kissing him slowly, nudging their noses together.

“Why?” Eddie whispers, and Steve shrugs again, running his finger over the crow again, touching Eddie’s chest. He’s so soft.

“Started freaking out,” he says softly. “Panicking.”

Eddie hums quietly, kissing him again, and Steve moves closer, letting his lips part for Eddie’s tongue, pulling at his shirt. Eddie tilts his head, fingers pressing into the side of Steve’s neck, squeezing gently, like he’s trying to reassure him that he’s there.

“Do you want to?” he whispers against Steve’s mouth. Steve exhales.

And nods.

Eddie kisses him harder, deeper, holding the back of his head, pushing his fingers into his hair, and Steve lets out a weak whine.

“I don’t know how,” Steve says when they part, gasping for breath. His lips brush Eddie’s.

“Got an idea,” Eddie whispers. Steve’s stomach flutters. “You know your colors?”

“Yes,” Steve breathes.

“Come sit on my lap, baby.” Eddie pulls away, leaning against the back of the sofa, and Steve is helpless to follow, stumbling over himself as he untangles his limbs from Eddie’s so he can find his place on his lap, knees on either side of his hips. Eddie’s hands find his waist, squeezing. “Okay?”

“Mhmm,” Steve hums softly. “Like sitting here.”

“I know,” Eddie says, smiling. “Me too.”

Steve lowers his head and kisses him, sighing, relaxing against his chest, tugging at the collar of his shirt again before he pulls away.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, baby,” Eddie says softly, almost purring. Steve could swoon.

“Can you… Can you take your shirt off?”

Eddie smiles, his eyes dark and shining.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

He has to lean toward Steve to get his shirt off, tugging it out from where it’s caught between his back and the sofa, and Steve waits, heart pounding in his chest as Eddie’s skin is revealed.

He’s paler than Steve is, and in the dim light of the lamp and the shifting lights of the city outside, he looks like he’s glowing. His skin is marked with dark ink, and Steve gazes, in awe, tracing it with light, tentative fingertips. Eddie waits patiently, looking up at him.

There’s a dragon across his stomach, its wings stretching over to his waist, its tail dipping into the hair that’s sneaking up from under the waistband of his sweatpants. Its scales look delicate somehow, despite the bold, black lines it’s drawn in.

“His name is Dorian,” Eddie says, watching Steve stare, and a laugh bursts out of Steve. He looks up at Eddie, whose eyes are sparkling at him.

“Really?”

“Mmhmm. Isn’t he pretty?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, pressing his hand over Dorian, spreading his fingers to take up as much space as possible, watching Eddie’s eyelashes flutter. “Pretty.”

He kisses Eddie, sucking on his lower lip, and Eddie hums affirmatively, a hand pressing into the small of his back. Steve’s breath catches in his throat as he slides his hands up Eddie’s chest to his shoulders, but his skin is smooth and soft and it feels so good that Steve’s hands can’t stay in place for long, sliding across his chest again.

“Tell me about it,” Eddie whispers between kisses. Steve’s breath catches again. “What’d you think about?”

“You,” Steve says breathlessly, hands finally coming to rest on the sides of Eddie’s neck. He can feel his heartbeat under his skin. It’s fast. “How you— How you touched yourself. How you touch me. How you talk to me.”

“How do I talk to you?” Eddie asks, like he doesn’t know, like he’s not doing it right now.

“Like I’m stupid,” Steve whispers.

“You know I don’t think you’re stupid,” Eddie says lightly, running his hands over his waist.

“You make me feel stupid,” Steve says weakly, looking at him. “Can’t even think— Fuck.”

Eddie smiles at him, and Steve feels like he’s overheating, his stomach fluttering. He closes his eyes, dropping his head, letting out a weak sound.

“Tell me what else, honey,” Eddie says softly, squeezing his waist, leaning in and tilting his head to kiss the side of his neck. Steve lets his head fall to the side, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck, shifting on his lap. “Come on, baby.”

Steve whines.

“I…”

“You…” Eddie teases against his neck, tongue brushing over his skin. “Hm?”

“Wanna be good for you,” Steve says weakly, lightheaded, his throat tight suddenly, holding the back of Eddie’s head, his other arm wrapped around him tightly. “Wanna be your good boy.”

Eddie groans quietly into Steve’s neck.

“You are,” he whispers, his voice right by Steve’s ear, his breath against his skin, cooling his own spit. “My good boy, my baby.”

Steve moans softly, shivering.

“Oh, shit.”

Eddie pulls back and looks down, gazing at where Steve’s dick is now tenting his sweatpants, and he smiles brightly, looking back up at him.

“Good boy,” he whispers, like Steve is in control of this, like he did it on purpose. He holds Steve’s cheek and guides him into a kiss. Steve kisses him desperately, messily, pushing a hand into Eddie’s curls, holding him tightly. “Go ‘head, baby,” Eddie breathes into his mouth.

“I don’t— I don’t know what I’m doing,” Steve confesses, even though he knows it’s obvious. It makes Eddie smile.

“Just do what feels good,” he whispers. He holding Steve’s hips and tugs, gently forcing him to press down against Eddie, and Eddie is hard too, and he’s pressing right against Steve, and—

“Oh, god—”

“Alright?” Eddie asks, and when Steve doesn’t respond, he squeezes his hips. “What’s your color, Stevie?”

“Green,” Steve gasps, shifting on Eddie’s lap again, rubbing against him, and he hugs Eddie’s neck. “Fuck, Eddie.”

“That’s it,” Eddie praises softly. “Feel good?”

“Mmhmm,” Steve hums, his voice too high, nodding. He’s desperate, hands shaking as they slide over Eddie’s chest, running over the soft hair on his skin. “Feels so good, Eddie.”

“Go a little harder,” Eddie instructs gently, pulling at Steve’s hips, his voice sweet and kind, and Steve is helpless. He follows directions blindly, his vision blurring, and he closes his eyes, rolling his hips harder, more confidently, because it feels good. Eddie’s breath catches in his throat. “There you go, good boy.”

Steve lets out a soft moan, rocking against him, humming when Eddie’s hand slides to the small of his back.

“Eddie,” he whines, and he doesn’t even recognize his own voice. Eddie nods, rubbing his back.

“You’re okay,” he says softly.

“‘M okay,” he says weakly, mumbling, breathless.

“‘S right, baby boy, I got you,” Eddie whispers. Steve whines again, shifting against him, eyes fluttering, his mouth falling open, and he’s going to start drooling again, he just knows it. But he’s barely in his own head right now, and he can’t think, and Eddie is making him fucking stupid. His hands pressing against his back, his tattoos, his skin, his hair, his voice, his dick—

“Eddie,” he chokes, flushing with heat, rolling his hips hard and staying down, pressing against Eddie, feeling how hard he is, feeling how much he wants Steve, and he lets out a noise he’s never made before. It rips its way out of his throat, and he’s embarrassed in spite of the grin that spreads across Eddie’s face.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes before he lets out a quiet moan. “You’re okay, you’re doing so well, baby, I’m so proud of you.”

Steve’s eyes sting, and his lip quivers. Eddie nods, lifting a hand to touch his face, caressing his cheek, cradling him, and Steve feels delicate in a way only Eddie has ever made him feel. His eyes flutter shut, letting a tear fall down his cheek as his hips press to Eddie’s, slowly, rhythmically, steadily. Eddie’s thumb swipes over his chin, and Steve whimpers as he processes how slick it is.

Eddie smiles at him fondly, his other hand spread against the small of his back, tilting his head. His thumb, wet with Steve’s spit, brushes against his lower lip.

Steve’s jaw drops and he lowers his head, pressing his hands against Eddie’s chest, covering his tattoos with his palms, and Eddie’s smile widens. He presses his thumb into Steve’s mouth, nodding.

Steve lets his eyes fall shut, closing his mouth around Eddie’s thumb, sucking gently. Eddie’s fingers curl around his chin, holding him, nodding as Steve whines, grinding against him, almost rolling his body against Eddie’s. Eddie slides his thumb out a little bit before he presses it back in, sliding it over Steve’s tongue, and Steve’s eyes roll into his head.

Eddie laughs lightly, almost giggling, pressing his thumb into Steve’s tongue until it pushes his mouth open, and Steve lets out a guttural groan, hands sliding to Eddie’s waist. His fingertips press into his flesh.

“That feel good, baby?” Eddie says sweetly. Steve moans weakly, groaning a pathetic Yeah around his thumb. “You want more?”

Steve nods desperately.

“Go a little faster for me, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, slipping his hand under the hem of Steve’s shirt. His hand is cold against Steve’s skin, but it still feels like it’s burning through him. Steve shifts his weight to his knees, lifting himself up to move faster, desperately. “Fuck, that’s good. Open your mouth for me.”

He’s breathless, and Steve whines, listening closely, opening his mouth, groaning as Eddie presses his index and middle fingers into his mouth. He’s so gentle, watching like he’s in awe as Steve sucks on them, holding Eddie’s waist tightly. Eddie presses them in and out, smiling proudly.

Steve catches his wrist as he starts to pull his fingers out, leaning forward so they slide back into place.

“Alright?” Eddie asks softly, whispering. Steve looks into his eyes, pulling his wrist, tilting his head down, forcing Eddie’s fingers in deeper until they’re nudging at his throat. And he sees stars.

His back arches as he suppresses a gag, and he closes his eyes, moaning loudly.

“Jesus fuck, Steve.”

“Mm.”

Steve’s spit is dripping over Eddie’s hand, and he briefly wishes Eddie was wearing his rings.

“You like that?” Eddie asks breathlessly, leaning up to kiss the side of Steve’s neck, biting gently. “You like my fingers in your throat, baby?”

“Yeah,” Steve gasps, and he feels debauched. Fully dressed and so hot he feels like he might die. Eddie’s fingers in his mouth, his dick pressed against Steve’s. His voice is muffled by Eddie’s fingers, slurred and mumbled. “Feels so good, Eds, I— I love your hands s’much.”

“Baby,” Eddie breathes. He slides his tongue up the side of his neck, slowly, lingering at his jaw, and Steve keens, whining, his head falling back, and he knows he’s being noisy, knows he hasn’t stopped making noises this entire time, desperate, weak, pathetic noises, but he can’t stop. Can’t shut himself up.

“Fuck, I— I need more.”

“Take it,” Eddie says, biting him. “Take what you need, Stevie, make yourself feel good.”

“Oh, God.”

“I got you, baby, you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” Steve says breathlessly as Eddie’s hand falls from his mouth. Eddie nods, lifting his fingers to his own mouth, sucking Steve’s spit off. Steve whines, leaning back and looking down at where they’re pressed together. The front of his sweatpants is tented, and there’s a damp spot. “Shit.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie tells him, reaching to hold his hips. “I got you, babydoll, you’re doing so good for me.”

Steve shivers, pressing against him harder, biting his lip, whining again, and he knows it sounds like he hates it, but he doesn’t, he fucking wants it, so, so so, badly. He sounds pathetic, whimpering and whining and crying as he uses Eddie’s body, as Eddie lets him. He wraps his arms around Eddie’s neck, hugging him tightly, moving against him desperately, whining loudly, his voice high in his throat.

“Eddie—”

“Yeah, baby,” Eddie gasps, pressing a hand into the arch of his back.

“Fuck, it’s so much, it’s so much, Eddie, I—”

“What’s your color, Stevie?” Eddie checks, pulling back to look into his eyes.

“Green,” Steve gasps, grabbing at Eddie’s hair. “Green, don’t fucking stop, baby, please, it— it feels so good.”

“Jesus.”

Steve sobs, pressing his forehead to Eddie’s, gasping for breath, trembling.

“You’re so close,” Eddie says softly, encouragingly. “You’re gonna come, baby boy, don’t stop.”

“Fuck, I don’t wanna stop,” Steve cries. “I don’t wanna stop, I wanna come for you, Eddie, please, please—”

“Come for me, baby,” Eddie whispers, nipping at his earlobe. “Come on, Stevie, baby, you got it.”

Steve whines, hugging Eddie’s neck, hiding his face, but Eddie pushes him back, lifting his chin and pulling him into a messy kiss. Steve groans low in his throat, clutching at him, breathing hard, letting out another sob.

He presses down harder, reaching back, his hand landing on Eddie’s knee, and he leans back, using it as a sort of leverage as he moves against Eddie. His eyes squeeze shut for a moment as he swirls his hips, groaning as Eddie’s hand finds his neck, holding him gently.

“Fuck,” Eddie says breathlessly, watching, eyes wide and dark. “‘S my boy, good job.”

“Eddie, fuck—”

“Come for me, baby.”

Steve moans, his eyes rolling into his head as his body flushes with heat, and it’s like the sky is opening up above him, like the stars are bathing him in their light, and Eddie’s hands are holding him, fingers wrapped around his throat. And Steve kind of feels like he might be dying, like this is it, like this is all he’s been waiting for. Like everything in his life has been leading to this moment.

He knows this isn’t it, that he has days coming after this, that the sun will rise in the morning, and as his head falls to Eddie’s shoulder, the thought wraps around him in the form of Eddie’s arms. And then he’s smiling into Eddie’s neck, humming weakly, his voice breaking.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks softly, running a hand over his back, voice painted with worry. And Steve’s head feels like it’s filled with cotton and dust, but he does his best to respond, nodding.

“‘M okay.”

“God, Steve.”

Steve whines, pressing closer, sliding his hands over Eddie’s chest. He still feels warm, and he’s still squirming in Eddie’s lap, shifting his hips against Eddie, who’s still hard. It feels nice, even though it’s a little overwhelming to Steve, and he doesn’t stop, even as Eddie’s hands find his hips, holding him gently.

“You’re amazing,” Eddie whispers. Steve’s smile widens, and he rubs his nose against the side of Eddie’s neck, making him giggle.

“I’m so…”

Steve trails off, exhaling heavily, shifting again, and Eddie hugs him.

“So…”

“…I don’t know,” he whispers. “I’m like… Tired. But ’s good.”

“You feel good?”

“Mm. Feels good.”

He hears Eddie laugh softly, running a hand across the small of his back.

“‘S sticky,” Steve mumbles absently, and Eddie laughs again, turning his head to kiss Steve’s temple. “Cold.”

“Wanna show me?”

Steve suppresses a sleepy smile and sits up, pausing briefly to press a kiss to Eddie’s jaw, and he hums when he sits up straight, arching his back to stretch it. Eddie watches, eyes shining with something Steve is starting to understand. Something he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to.

He looks down at the darkened spot on the front of his sweatpants, and he hesitates for just a moment before he hooks his thumbs on the waistband and tugs it out of the way,

Eddie tilts his head to look, and Steve’s cheeks are lit aflame by humiliation as he reaches to tug at the front of his waistband. Steve’s come is sticking to his boxers, messy and gross, but Eddie just smiles, looking up at Steve, who’s looking away, embarrassed.

“Good boy,” Eddie says quietly, whispering, lifting his chin to prompt Steve to lower his head close enough to kiss him, and Steve does, exhaling and closing his eyes, letting his lips part for Eddie’s tongue to slip between them. “Baby.”

“Mm.”

Eddie lets go of the waistband, letting it snap against his skin, and Steve snorts, cheeks warm.

“Wanna go take a shower and clean up?” Eddie asks softly.

Steve hesitates, his head ducked shyly. He does want to take a shower. He feels kind of gross (in a way that he finds he doesn’t completely mind), and a shower would be nice, but the idea of being away from Eddie, of a door between them, makes him feel cold.

“…Will you come with me?” he asks quietly, looking to meet Eddie’s eyes. Eddie’s head is tilted like he’s curious, and he lifts a hand to touch his face.

“You sure?” he whispers.

Steve nods. He’s sure. He wants it.

To stand under the spray of water with Eddie, their skin bare and exposed, wet and sliding across each other, their hair tangling.

He wants to see all of Eddie. Wants Eddie to see all of him.

Every bruise and faint scar, every shift of his muscles beneath his skin, every freckle and mole. He wants to see each of Eddie’s tattoos, wants to memorize them all, to see them every time he closes his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Please.”

Eddie smiles up at him, eyes squinting as his cheeks rise, and it’s like he’s glowing. Steve’s chest aches.

Steve is wobbly when he stands, holding Eddie’s hands tightly, head fuzzy as he follows him slowly to the bedroom. He watches, leaning against a wall, as Eddie collects fresh clothes, and he knows Eddie is just grabbing clothes from his unorganized drawers, but he’s gazing, watching like he’s in awe, because Eddie’s just Eddie, just a man, just flesh and bone, but Steve feels like he’s on the verge of tears, watching him.

He’s so beautiful Steve’s whole body aches. He makes existing look so easy, tossing a freshly cleaned pair of boxers in the air and catching it with a silly flourish that makes Steve giggle, looking over his shoulder to smile at Steve with an ease that Steve longs for.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Eddie says as he takes Steve’s hand to lead him to the bathroom, his other arm holding their clothes, and Steve clings to his wrist, following him helplessly. Eddie’s hair shifts in the air as he walks, and Steve suddenly feels sick, and he needs to shut himself up before he says it—

He tugs at Eddie’s hand, and Eddie turns, lips already parted to speak, but Steve leans in to kiss him before he can say anything. Eddie hums, smiling against Steve’s mouth, fingers tightening on Steve’s. Steve doesn’t let him go far when they part for a breath, leaning in and catching Eddie’s lips again, because he needs to keep his mouth busy until the urge passes.

Because he knows it’s too soon.

Ridiculously, insanely too soon. He would be stupid to say it, especially now, making out with Eddie in the bathroom after coming in his pants so pathetically. (Eddie didn’t seem to mind, obviously.) But Eddie always makes Steve feel kind of stupid.

Steve groans into the kiss, stepping closer, tilting his head, letting his lips part. Eddie grins, opening his mouth, and Steve licks across his teeth, reaching to wrap his arms around his neck. Eddie drops the clothes onto the counter, and then his hands are pushing under Steve’s shirt, his fingertips cold, his palms warm, and Steve whines. He pushes Eddie toward the counter, and Eddie giggles when his back hits the edge of it, pressing a hand into the small of Steve’s back.

Steve’s eyebrows furrow and he tilts his head, burying a hand in Eddie’s hair and pulling as Eddie’s tongue slides into his mouth. Eddie lets out a soft sound, humming into Steve’s mouth, fingers pressing into Steve’s flesh in a way that would make Steve self conscious were it anyone else touching him, but Eddie’s hands make him feel beautiful.

He moves closer to Eddie, shifting so their bodies are locked, pressed together completely, and Steve’s breath catches in his throat when he realizes that Eddie is still hard, straining against the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Eds,” he mumbles, tugging at his hair again.

“Mm,” Eddie hums breathlessly. “Yeah, baby.”

“Can I touch you?”

Eddie kisses him again, nibbling on his lower lip, dragging his hand up and then down Steve’s back, his nails tracing his spine.

“You don’t have to,” he says softly. “‘S okay.”

“Wanna,” Steve says petulantly, licking into Eddie’s mouth. “Wanna make you come.”

“Fuck.”

Steve hums.

“May I?” he whispers between kisses.

“Go for it, honey.”

Steve grins into the kiss, biting his lip briefly before he pulls away and bites his own lip as their foreheads press. He looks down, reaching for the drawstring of Eddie’s sweatpants. He tugs them down, tracing the hem of his underwear hesitantly. The dragon’s tail dips under it, winding around the trail of hair that Steve pauses to pet, stroking gently.

“Alright?” Eddie whispers. Steve nods, slipping his fingertips under the waistband.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes.

“So are you,” Eddie whispers, kissing Steve’s forehead. “We’re a good-lookin’ couple, aren’t we?”

Steve giggles, looking up at Eddie shyly as he tugs his underwear down.

Eddie exhales when Steve touches him, and Steve gazes at him, sliding his hand over Eddie’s dick slowly, carefully. Eddie’s eyes close, his head falling back, when Steve tightens his hand. Steve smiles, tilting his head curiously.

“Does it feel good?” he asks softly after a while.

“Yeah, baby,” Eddie breathes. “Feels good. Love how you touch me.”

“I like touching you.”

Eddie lets out a soft noise, and Steve bites his lip, rubbing his thumb over the slit, looking at the way his own skin looks against Eddie’s. They are beautiful together.

He quickens his hand, squeezing, watching Eddie’s face, watching his lips part as he lets out a soft groan. His brows furrow and he grits his teeth like he’s wincing, like it hurts, but Steve knows it doesn’t. Because Eddie’s cheeks are flushed pink and he reaches to hold Steve’s neck, his palm to Steve’s throat.

Steve moans softly, letting his eyes flutter shut before he looks at him again.

Eddie is breathing heavily. He’s leaning back against the counter, and Steve watches his chest rise and fall with every breath. He looks down again, watches his hand shift up and down, watches Eddie’s skin become slick, and then he wants to taste it, wants Eddie’s dick in his mouth—

Which is a thing, he learned recently. Robin told him. Which could have been weird, but it was mostly just fun, sitting in Robin’s bed with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, chewing on gummy bears and giggling and gasping at everything she said. He learned lots of new words.

“Eddie,” he says quietly.

“Yeah,” Eddie says breathlessly.

“Can I use my mouth?”

Eddie’s eyes flutter open, and it takes a moment for his vision to focus.

“You want to?” he asks softly.

“Desperately.”

Eddie snorts, and he pulls Steve into a kiss by his throat, manhandling him forward, and Steve keens, melting against him, his hand pausing. Eddie’s teeth catch on Steve’s lip, tugging at it. Steve is breathless when they separate, and Eddie’s lips brush his when he speaks.

“Get on your knees.”

Steve’s stomach does a somersault. He moans.

He lowers to his knees slowly, mourning the loss of Eddie’s hand in his throat, but then he’s smiling because Eddie is pushing his underwear farther down, and Steve gazes at the safety pin on Eddie’s thigh.

“Pretty.”

“Thank you, baby.”

Steve leans forward and nuzzles against him, burying his nose in the hair at the base of Eddie’s dick, inhaling, sighing when Eddie’s fingers twist into his hair.

“You don’t have to,” Eddie whispers.

“Wanna.”

Eddie snorts, tugging at Steve’s hair gently, and Steve hums, finally lifting his hands to touch him, sliding his hands over his thighs, rubbing, squeezing, before he reaches for Eddie’s dick again, leaning his head back a little to look. When he squeezes, a bead of liquid appears, and he’s leaning in to lick it before he can even think.

“Shit,” Eddie breathes. “Mm.”

Steve hums, doing it again, closing his eyes. He listens to Eddie’s breathing become heavier, lingering close before he takes him into his mouth.

“Fuck, Steve,” Eddie says sharply. “So warm.”

Steve hums, sucking gently, and his head goes quiet. He reaches to hold Eddie’s hip, bobbing his head, humming weakly at the soft wet sounds that fill the air. His blood rushes, and his dick is filling out again. He pushes closer, longing for the feeling of Eddie’s dick sliding over the back of his tongue, for it to nudge too far down, where it shouldn’t go, where Steve wants it most.

He pulls away with a gasp, breathless, his chin slick with drool, his eyes half-shut like he’s sleepy.

“Want it in my throat,” he says absently, looking up at Eddie.

Eddie opens his eyes, looking at him. His cheeks are red, and he looks holy.

Steve melts, and he wants to cry. He falls to the side, legs folded under him like a mermaid basking in the sun, and he holds Eddie’s leg, looking up at him longingly. He wants to beg, to plead, and Eddie must see it on his face. He caresses his cheek, brushing his thumb under his eyes, and Steve turns into his palm, his lips parting to slide his tongue over Eddie’s skin.

“You sure?” Eddie whispers.

“Please,” Steve begs weakly, his voice cracking.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie breathes.

Steve moans quietly, arching his back, absently searching for friction.

“Take it slow,” Eddie says gently, running his hand into Steve’s hair again. “Okay? Don’t force it.”

Steve nods up at him, his heart pounding.

“Go ‘head, baby.”

Steve hums, opening his mouth again, sticking his tongue out, taking Eddie into his mouth again, sliding his tongue over the underside, tracing the vein that somehow tastes like the sky. Steve’s eyes roll into his head as he clutches at Eddie’s leg.

“Fuck, there you go, baby,” Eddie murmurs. “That’s it.”

Steve stiffens as Eddie’s dick nudges his throat, arching his back, furrowing his eyebrows.

Fuck.

“God, Stevie,” Eddie gasps. “You’re fucking amazing.”

Steve’s cheeks flush with heat, and he squeezes Eddie’s thigh, inhaling deeply before he relaxes, moving closer, letting Eddie’s dick push deeper, and his eyes sting as they fill with tears, and the ground is hard beneath him, pressing against his ankles and his hip, and it hurts but he doesn’t care.

He feels filthy.

He feels beautiful.

“Baby,” Eddie gasps, and his other hand finds Steve’s hair, pushing into his hair and gripping it tightly. Steve groans, pulling away to gasp for breath before he pushes in again. “Oh, fuck, Steve, fuck—”

Eddie tugs at his hair, hissing as Steve grips his thigh tightly.

“You like that, baby?” Eddie asks breathlessly, and Steve lets out a garbled yeah. “Yeah, you do. Fuck, you like my cock down your throat—”

Steve lets out a guttural groan, sliding his hands up to Eddie’s ass, pulling so Eddie’s dick pushes deeper, and Eddie lets out a moan, his head falling forward.

“‘S my boy,” Eddie says, groaning. “So good for me, babydoll, you’re so perfect.”

Steve whines, blinking tears out of his eyes. They’re hot as they roll down his cheeks, and he knows he’s pathetic, crying with Eddie’s dick down his throat, but Eddie’s fingertips are light on his cheeks as he wipes them away, carefully, lovingly.

“Fuck,” Eddie gasps. “You’re so beautiful, Stevie, my beautiful boy.”

Steve groans.

He only wants to hear Eddie’s voice for the rest of his life, just like this. Gentle and sweet and tender, echoing off the tile walls, covering him like a warm blanket, like an umbrella in the pouring rain.

He lets out a soft moan when Eddie pulls his head back by his hair, his shoulders slumping. Strings of spit fall from his mouth to his legs, darkening the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Breathe for me,” Eddie murmurs, and Steve does, panting, his chest rising and falling as he holds onto Eddie’s leg. “You okay?”

“Yes,” Steve gasps, looking up at him. “I like it, I like it so much, please—”

“Okay,” Eddie breathes. “I got you, sweetheart, you want it that bad?”

Steve nods pathetically, breathing hard.

“Want it,” he says absently, weakly, and he can’t say anything else because his mouth doesn’t seem to be connected to his brain.

“You want me to fuck your face, baby?” Eddie asks condescendingly, his voice sweet, and Steve’s stomach flips over. He whines, nodding, tears slipping down his face. “Sweet boy.”

“Please,” Steve breathes.

“Please what?”

“Eddie,” Steve whines, crying, hugging his leg, lifting his chin, but Eddie doesn’t let him, his fingers shifting to move his dick away from Steve’s mouth. “Please, baby.”

“Please what, sweetheart?” Eddie asks again, smiling, and Steve wants to pout. “What do you want, Stevie?”

“Eddie,” Steve whimpers, looking up at him. “Fuck my face. Please. Want your cock in my throat.”

“Jesus fuck, Steve,” Eddie says.

“Fuck me,” Steve says again, setting his chin on Eddie’s leg to look up at him. “Please, baby.”

Eddie’s dick jumps, and Steve grins, rubbing Eddie’s thigh gently, humming suggestively, whining when Eddie tugs his hair again.

“Take a deep breath for me,” Eddie says softly. Steve nods, inhaling, shifting onto his knees. “Ready?”

“Yes—” Steve says, just barely stopping himself from adding a soft sir at the end of the word. Which he knows is weird. Eddie is only a few years older than him, and they haven't even really talked about the way Eddie always takes charge, the way he talks to Steve like he can’t think for himself. Or the way it makes Steve melt into a human puddle, the way it makes him feel like he’s falling in love.

Other things make him feel like that too.

The way Eddie touches his waist when he’s passing by him in the kitchen, the way he glances at Steve when Steve glances at him, suppressing a shy smile.

The way Eddie’s voice sounds in the morning, all rough and gravelly and sexy, right in Steve’s ear as he says Good morning, beautiful because he knows it makes Steve shivers.

The way Eddie’s fingers feel in his mouth.

The way Eddie’s sweatshirts and bedsheets smell.

The way Eddie absently presses his fingertips into the soft flesh of Steve’s stomach and hips like he wants to pull him apart.

A lot of things about Eddie make Steve feel like that.

Eddie guides his dick into Steve’s mouth, one hand gripping his hair, and Steve moans softly, his eyes fluttering shut. He wraps his arms around Eddie’s legs as he takes him deeper, shifting to sit on his bottom again, holding Eddie’s legs tightly.

It’s gross, the way Eddie’s dick slides down his throat and then comes back out a little bit, the way Eddie grips his hair and guides his head up and down slowly, murmuring quietly. Steve chokes. He gags. His knees are sore from the ground. And he loves it.

His throat makes a clicking sound around Eddie’s dick, and he lets go of Eddie’s leg, reaching to his own lap, rubbing himself over his sweatpants. He moans, gasping when Eddie pulls out for a moment.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans. “That’s good, baby, you’re doing so good for me.”

Steve whines, lifting his chin to beg for more. Eddie gives it to him, moaning loudly. It echoes.

Steve’s hand pushes under his sweatpants, rubbing quickly as he clutches at Eddie’s thigh. His dick is already slick with come, and he groans.

“Fuck, are you touching yourself?” Eddie asks breathlessly. Steve whines, pulling away and gasping for breath, nodding, crying.

“Yeah,” he chokes. “Fuck, it feels so good, Eddie.”

“God, Steve.”

“Please,” Steve says weakly. “Gimme more, baby, please.”

“Open your mouth, baby.”

He does, sticking his tongue out, looking up at him, and it’s like he’s waiting for communion, like he’s waiting for Eddie to bless him.

And that’s exactly what Eddie does.

He presses his thumb to Steve’s tongue, pushing his jaw down. Steve keens, closing his mouth around it and sucking. Eddie smiles softly, curling his fingers under Steve’s chin. Steve squeezes his dick, whining.

“Open,” Eddie says softly. Steve lets his jaw drop. Spit falls down his chin. And then Eddie is sliding three fingers into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue, and Steve groans, closing his eyes. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve says weakly, his voice muffled by Eddie’s hand. Eddie grins, pushing his fingers deeper, stretching Steve’s mouth open. Steve whines, letting out a weak sob.

“That’s my boy,” Eddie says fondly. “Sweet baby.”

He pulls his fingers away, and Steve sticks his tongue out to catch the strings of spit that connect them.

“You want my dick, sweetheart?”

Steve nods, gazing up at him.

“Please,” he breathes.

─────────────────

Steve lets his head fall back as Eddie kisses down his neck, biting his lip. Eddie pushes his hair out of the way, sliding it across his wet skin, and Steve shivers.

He slides his hands over Eddie’s waist, and when Eddie’s teeth press into his skin, he drags his fingernails across his back, humming. He isn’t sure if Eddie hears it over the spray of the shower, but he doesn’t care.

The steam from the shower smells like Eddie’s shampoo, like home, and Eddie’s skin sliding against his feels like heaven.

Steve’s cross is pressing into his chest, but he doesn’t mind. It’s warm from the water, and from Eddie’s skin and his breath, and Steve isn’t even hard anymore (he hardly knew he was capable of having an orgasm, but less two in less than two hours), but he feels so fucking good.

Eddie’s hair slips between his fingers easily, and Steve wraps it around his fingers, pulling so Eddie pulls away. He does, smiling lazily, his tongue teasing his teeth, and Steve lets out a quiet moan.

There are drops of water caught in his eyelashes. His cheeks are pink. His piercings are shining.

“You’re so beautiful,” Steve breathes.

Eddie tilts his head, smiling softly. His hair is sticking to his neck, perfectly swirled over his skin, the dark color contrasting beautifully against his pale skin. Steve reaches out and pushes it away, leaning in to kiss his neck. Eddie laughs softly, letting him.

Steve sucks on his skin, humming quietly, letting Eddie tug at his hair. He bites gently, teasingly, smiling against his skin when Eddie grips his hair and holds him close as his other hand presses against the small of his back. Their bodies press together, their legs entwining, and Steve moans softly, hugging him tightly.

“Sweet lamb,” Eddie murmurs. Steve smiles again.

His cheeks are warm every time Eddie looks at his body.

He’s shy, even though Eddie whispered that he doesn’t have to be as they were undressing. His eyes linger on Steve’s chest, and Steve is self-conscious of how hairy he is, but Eddie is smiling the whole time. He murmurs into Steve’s ear that he’s beautiful, and Steve believes him.

Steve’s skin misses Eddie’s as they part, and he bites his lip to hold back a whine as he watches him turn to get the soap. His hair is stuck to his skin, but it’s parted just enough that Steve can see ink under the nape of his neck.

He reaches up before he can even think, dragging his fingertips across Eddie’s shoulders to gather his hair out of the way, and Eddie lets him, his head turning a little bit like he wants to turn and look at him. He doesn’t, and Steve pushes his hair away enough to see the tattoo.

It’s an eye. Looking back at Steve, shining. It kind of looks like it’s been etched into Eddie’s skin, the lines uneven and a little shaky like it’s a carving. There are lines around the eye like rays of light.

Steve traces it lightly, his fingertips just ghosting over the ink, and then he leans in and presses his lips to it. Eddie hums softly.

“Thank you,” Steve whispers, setting his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie’s head turns a little bit.

“For what?”

Steve sighs, closing his eyes, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist. Eddie’s hands slide over his forearms, and Steve kind of wishes they could absorb one another, that they could melt together.

“Taking care of me.’

Eddie hums again.

“Love taking care of you.” His voice is gentle, breathy, like he knows Steve feels like he’s about to fall asleep. Steve sighs again, tucking his face into the side of Eddie’s, shivering as Eddie drags his nails across his forearms lightly. “My sweet boy.”

♡ permanent taglist: @estrellami-1 @theplantscientist @spectrum-spectrum @carlprocastinator1000 @starman-jpg @romantiklen @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme ♡ holy things taglist: @stevesbipanic @pearynice @ao3whore @slowandsteddie @swordsandflowercrowns @dragonmama76 @mikeys-thoughts @sofadofax @cyranyx @kazalohiku @lostonceandneverfound @strangerfreaks @bitchysteveharrington @nailbatanddungeon @newtstabber (comment to be added/removed to/from either list!!)

♡ art of steve and eddie ♡ pinboard // playlist ♡ buy me a coffee

#!!! #sorry this is late ive been Having A Time #but im back!! #also ignore this if you want obv no pressure but if anyone is thinking ab donating to my kofi i would rly rly rly appreciate it #i have an exhibition coming up and i need to get some supplies #anyway #drink some water #take your meds #eat something yummy #love you love you love you #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #a mess of holy things

[lichenes]

I loved it! (I’m the same one who asked for the slow mornings) I swear I need more of your writings, they make something to me,,, I can’t explain it, but please keep doing your magic 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Awwhh thank you anon<33 (feel free to dm me btw... I'd love to talk to youuu) This is my attempt at portraying touchy Vincent cuz of the "shh baby... they're coming back" snippet that's been circling the internet because- lord have mercy. CW: slight mischaracterisation (sorry!!), physical contact, SFW wc: 474

_____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____

The first time you met, you felt a touch on your shoulder. "Excuse me miss?" You turned to face the silver haired man, struck by how bold he was. You looked at him questioningly. "Would you happen to know where the nearest ATM is?" You thought for a moment, cautious of your surroundings hoping this wasn't a kidnapping attempt.

"Uhm... I'm not sure... oh! I think one is just around the corner?" He thanked you and bid you goodbye. The interaction was so quick you didn't even register it fully, as did he.

The second time you met, he came up to you and gave you a hug. You turned around confused and angered at his forwardness. His features draining of colour when he realised his mistake. "Mon dieu- I- I'm so sorry I thought you were someone else-" He was honestly and truly sorry nevertheless, you giggled at his attempts at an apology.

"I was supposed to meet with a friend here and- and you two look incredibly similar and-" You cut him off before he managed to dig his grave further. "It's fine, don't worry about it." Happens to the best of us, he thought when you parted ways.

You didn't take him for the easily embarrassed type but giving the fact that he left looking like a freshly cut beetroot, you imagined he had something else on his mind, he wasn't telling you. You shook off the thought, assuming that this was just the way he reacted to awkwardness.

This time, he remarked the way your demeanour changed when you turned around and saw that it was him. Maybe... you actually remembered the interaction, maybe next time, he thought, he would actually talk to you. You weren't on his mind particularly often, but he kept telling himself... third time's the charm?

The third time you met, he didn't waste any time. You were just taking a stroll through the park, enjoying the frosty morning when you met him again. "Hey! Sorry!" You turned around, recognising his voice by now. He smiled in your direction, beckoning you to sit by him. "I'm Vincent." You told him your name and the conversation, as if it was the wine out of a barrel, started flowing.

"Oh that's lovely!" He laughed at your joke. He actually found it funny, you thought. He grabbed your hand in the moment and your heart stopped. He was a touchy person, clearly. He looked at your panicked expression and wanted to stammer out an apology, which you quickly refuted. "No, no- I'm- I'm okay with it..." He grinned at that, the red of his cheeks coming from the cold - deepening.

You never thought you could still act like a teen in love but his demeanour was quickly proving to be irresistible. You wondered what would come out of it... _____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____ masterlist

#swann arlaud #x reader #anatomy of a fall #vincent renzi #vincent renzi x reader #writing

[entomolog-t]

Bite Me - Chapter 6

June pulling out that uno reverse card.

As a warning this chapter is heavier with both the suggestive nature as well the content itself. There is technically nothing explicit, though this is definitely a very emotionally and physically charged chapter.

Taglist: @smallsday @ratcatcher0325 @not-a-space-alien @bittykimmy13 @naive-bias

- - - -

Previous Chapter: Chapter 5

Next Chapter: Chapter 7

Word count: 1701

CW: Mentions of blood, Adult language, Dehumanization, Suggestive, Fearplay, Mouthplay (biting), Minor injuries, Whump, Humiliation, Panic (onset panic attack), Conflicting feelings of consent

Aedes knew he was not meant to be touched like this- not in this way; Her teeth pressing into his side, her mouth covering from his shoulder to his navel. His heart pounds in his ears, screaming to him that he is in danger. He wants her to stop but- No, he doesn't want her to stop. Fear and ecstasy run rampant through his mind. Her touch thrills him. It was all encompassing. It was overwhelming. He never wants her to stop. He wants her to stop right this second.

The softness of her lips… the blunt pressure from her bite… the warmth of her breath… It held a depraved intimacy that seemed to stoak something deeply primal within him. As her teeth drag along his skin, he can't stop his body from shaking. It feels wrong- and so very good. He hisses, resisting all matter of instinct urging him to struggle against the massive fingers holding him in place.

He was drowning in foreign sensations and the emotional turmoil they wrought, struggling to find some semblance of control. If he could rein in every instinct, suppress every urge, suppress every fear-No. He wasn’t afraid. He wouldn’t be afraid. Aedes wanted her to see that he was the one in control, not her. He was in this position because he liked it- he allowed it. She was indulging him. 

He wanted respect. 

She wanted a reaction.

She nips at the fabric of his shirt, ever so slowly pulling it up and exposing his midriff. He can’t control the way his abdomen twitches as it's uncovered- the muggy air from her breath bathing him in a strange and humid warmth. As her teeth make direct contact with his skin the initial sensation nearly sends him over the edge. His muscles tense involuntarily, unable to suppress their shudder. He draws in a sharp gasp before gritting his teeth in a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of composure. 

He not only watches, but feels as her lips curve into a grin. She liked this… far too much. 

“Since you bit me,” Her voice is like velvet- a warm and gentle murmur, “It's only fair I get a turn…” Though spoken slow and soft, those words send a jolt through him, and he finds himself reeling from it- fixated on that teasing demeanor towards his feeding. Her words giving life to a small feeling of hope being kindled in his chest. Her teasing musings seemed… Almost casual? Was she just going to overlook that he’d fed on her? Was she okay with it?? 

Or was she just looking to get a rise out of him- toying with his desire? 

Two could play at that game. 

Hands still remaining begrudgingly restrained above his head, with his knee he tilts up her chin. His eyes lock onto hers, capturing her gaze in his unwavering stare. The closeness of her is beyond overwhelming, with her face extending past the entirety of his vision. Even still, he remains unflinching in his resolve,  a declaration that he will not be so easily cowed by her teasing. 

“Eager Human,” He chides, his words flowing like liquid silk, “You would think by now you would have had more than your fair share of a turn.” He revels in the way his words summon a rush of colour to her cheeks- a rush of blood just beneath her plush skin. Despite the adrenaline beating wild in his chest, he finds himself grinning as he adds, “Though I’ll let you continue to indulge your delusion.”

The sound that escapes her is music to his ears. A subtle whine… an involuntary whimper betraying her bold candor. Just a glance and some words and this behemoth crumbles before me…  The feeling of power it gives him is nothing short of breathtaking- A high like no other. 

He must have been a delusion, the way she indulged in him.

Fervent and passionate, her lips caressed the whole of his body, and her teeth felt as though they defiled it. They carved into him- both physically and metaphorically. With each kiss - each bite - she took from him; pieces of his pride, his resolve, his dignity, leaving him raw, bruised and lesser.

He had allowed this hadn’t he? 

No- he squeezed his eyes shut. His breathing coming faster and faster. Each inhale feeling as though he couldn’t quite take in enough air. His instincts scream at him to fight back, to kick and snarl and scratch his way away, but logic tells him that's exactly what she wants- and some depraved part of his mind whispers that's exactly what you want. 

The hazy scent of her was thick in the air. Sweet and lush. The remnants of his hunger twist in his chest, urging him to take his fill. He strains against her grip, restless in his renewed thirst, but there is no budging. He grits his teeth. This fucking position. He hated it. How small he felt- how little he could move, how he felt on display. 

He was terrified. 

And yet, the pleasure he felt was undeniable. He hears her heart pounding, and he takes no small pleasure in the knowledge that the sound is his doing. Aedes' mind whirls as conflicting feelings gnaw at him. There was no denying the rush he felt, but a panicked voice within him told him that he should- a sharp pang of humiliation screaming out against the thrill. 

The way she moved her lips against his skin, eager and toying - She very clearly wanted a reaction from him and his pride is desperate to withhold it. Just what was she looking for? Did she want him to scream? To beg her to stop? To say he was scared?

He felt like he was drowning in longing. A deep longing to be in control, to escape this feeling of helplessness… and a longing for this woman to see him as more than just a… toy. Yet, he couldn't escape the painful embarrassment of his own helplessness- his pride reduced to a mere plaything for her. He couldn't meet her gaze. Not when he felt like… this.

The once warm and intoxicating touch now felt hot and suffocating. He wanted to hate it- hate the way it made him feel. He wanted it to stop…

But what if she didn't.

A twisted thought snakes it's way into his mind,

You'd like that, wouldn't you?

The only semblance of control he had was in pretending that he was allowing her to touch him like this. If he had to beg her to stop it would shatter the ruse he’d created for himself. He knew she was toying with him- looking for some kind of reaction. She wanted him to reach his breaking point. 

He was powerless.

He was trapped.

His skin no longer tingles with excitement. Instead it burns, stinging and raw from whatever the fuck this shameful thing was. He strains against her grasp, feeling disgusted by the way his body shivers under her touch. 

Pathetic.

He hates the way his body looks under her touch. The sheer size of her relative to himself. The sight of teeth nearly the size of his hands pressing into him- drawing small spots of bloodied freckles to the surface of his skin felt like it would be burned into his mind’s eye. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from the incarnadine trail left by her predatory embrace, and he grew queasy at the sight of his own blood.

He was fucking pathetic.

He could feel panic welling up in his chest, and tears in his eyes. He wanted to scream, to beg for this to be over, but his voice failed him, swallowed by the grotesque mix of his pride and fear constricting his chest. He flinched at every touch, trembling under her overwhelming magnitude. His words failed him, his body failed him- each breath coming in short shakey bursts, never seeming to gulp down enough air. 

Pathetic. 

The weight of the humiliation seemed to manifest in her bite, leaving him gasping for breath. How had he deluded himself into succumbing to desires that left him feeling so stripped… so emasculated? 

He felt raw.  

Tears finally spilled over, streaming down his face, as the swell of panic consumed him. 

Turning his head towards her, his breath catches in his throat as he sees her eyes- already locked on his face. The intensity of her gaze is terrifying. His voice catches in his throat- a soft whimpering sound coming from him. A small puff of air. Half of a word hanging on his tongue.

Pathetic. 

He meets her gaze silently begging her to stop, his shame seeming to snuff out his voice. 

She smiles- her teeth still wrapped around his frame.

The sight is stunning- both horrifying and beautiful. The amalgamation of his internal turmoil is all at once far too much to contain. He overflows. Unable to suppress it, a single hushed word finally spills forth from his lips, repeated over and over between gasping whimpers. 

“P-please.” 

Please stop.

Please let me go.

Please continue.

To his horror, despite his fear, there's still a part of him that wants her not to stop- to be so completely overwhelmed by her that nothing else can occupy his mind. Aedes so desperately wanted to sever away that part of him, the way one would amputate an necrotic limb to stop the spread. This was wrong. He can’t grasp what he's feeling- he doesn’t want to. Nothing was making sense. All Aedes knows is he's never been so horrified in his life. 

He has to get away.

Her eyes fall to his face and she pauses. As she pulls away from him, Aedes feels a rush of cool air against his dampened skin, the sensation stinging at the raw marks she had decorated him with. Her gaze is unnerving. Her eyes, wild and wide, seemed to consume him, devouring every detail yet sharing nothing of their own. It's predatory. 

He couldn't bear it. The touch. The thoughts. The humiliation. It hurt. It hurt so much. 

"Awe,” she coos, “is the little toy afraid I'll break him?"

Aedes unravels.

#Aedes being a chew toy for 2 chapters straight #One hell of a first meeting for these two freaks #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t community #entowrites #bite me #JuneOc #AedesOC #whump #cw suggestive #fearplay #cw fearplay #cw dehumization #tiny vampire #tiny man #size tumblr #macro/micro #giantess #GTS

[http-tokki]

~ bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ~ tags/cw: aged up bakugou, canonverse, misogyny, violence against women, katsuki standing up against a pos man, the audacity of straught men ~ wc: 800 ~ Honey is a replacement for Y/N ~ "Women say that they want to be treated as equals, and your first thought is that you wanna punch them?"

Typical college party. Loud music blasted through shitty speakers, low lighting, and the haze of weed, cigarettes, and whatever else everyone was smoking. You had found a comfy spot on a couch in the den, Kastuki following you, which had Kiri, Denki, Shoto, Deku, Ochaco, Ida, and Momo filing into the room soon after him. Katsuki took the seat next to you, spreading his legs wide so his thigh brushed yours as you spread your legs equally as wide to tease the blonde boy. Games were tossed around, bottles passed between hands, and insults exchanged as you played the infamous Cards Against Humanity. In the absolute horror that had been brought up as each player laid a card down, the topic of feminism and women's rights was brought to the table. Everyone turned their attention to Mineta, shouts and hollers on the tips of their tongues but as they realized it was not the ball boy's opinion that had started the controversy, their protests died down in favor of paying attention to you and the mysterious blue-haired boy's conversation.

"I'm not looking for the world to stop and worship women; I'm not saying women are better than men. All we, as women, want is to be treated with the same respect you guys treat other men with" You held your hands out, palms facing up as if you had just played your final card. "We're just looking to be treated as equals."

There isn't a second of hesitation as Bluey spits out his response. "Well, then I should be able to punch you in the face because we are equals. You wanna act like men? I'll treat you like a man." He laughs at the threat of violence.

You roll your eyes at his typical response. What was it with men who wanted to punch women the second they wanted to be treated the same as men? "I'm not saying we want to be or act like men. I'm just saying treat us as equals. Why you're first-"

You feel Bakugou shift next to you. His hand brushes your knee as he sits forwards. "I'm sorry, honey." Katsuki apologizes, fingers squeezing your knee before coming together between his spread thighs. "Did you just say you want to punch her?"

You watch as the once bold blue-haired boy shrinks down, eyes shifting from wicked delight to terror. Colour leeches from his face as his eyes scan the room for backup, but everyone in the room was a part of the same friend group, yours.

"I'm not saying her specifically just as a concept. I think that if women want-"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Katsuki spits out, tongue darting to swipe across his sharpened canines as if he were an animal about to dig into a meal. He waits for another second, but when no response comes, Bakugou continues. "Women say that they want to be treated as equals, and your first thought is that you wanna punch them?"

The guy stutters over his words. "Look, man. I don't want a fight; I'm just answering her"

"It kinda sounds like you do."

"I really don't. I'm not looking to take you on. I'm just gonna leave…."

Katsuki presses on. "So you wouldn't want to punch me, but you would punch a girl? Huh," standing from his spot on the couch. "Guess you don't see me as an equal, which is good because we are not equal."

Bakugou crosses the small space to lean down. Hands braced on either side of the chair he sits in, Katsuki leans down. "You are scum, and when I find you on the streets, I will not hesitate to beat the shit out of you."

"You can't-" Bluey scrambles, trying to gather what was left of his self-esteem.

"I can and I will" Katsuki smiles. "Because you are the type of person I have been training my whole life to take down, and I will hunt you down until I know you are rotting in a cell."

Kiri steps in, calm hands placed on Katsuki's shoulders. "Okay, Bakubro, that's enough; you've scared him," he laughs, trying to diffuse some of the tension. Bakugou eases up, rolling his shoulders to shrug his friend off. Turning to you, Katsuki tilts his head to ask if you are okay, and when you respond with a small smile, he finally moves to sit down.

"If you are not out of here by the time I turn around, you won't be able to walk ever again." Katsuki threatens, and much to his delight, Bluey is scrambling out of his chair and up the stairs. Finally sitting back where he started, he entwines your fingers with his and pulls them into his lap.

"Alright, let's finish the game."

~ a/n: This was inspired by a tik tok by Drew Afualo but I can't find it :((( but it's in a video where she talks about when a woman says she wants to be treated as an equal and the first thing they say is that he wants to punch her as an equal- like what?? go to therapy that's not fucking normal but also tell me WHY I immediately thought of Bakugou standing up for his female best friend if this conversation ever occurred

#katsuki fluff #katsuki x you #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou imagines #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x fem!reader #aged up bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha drabble #bnha fanfic #bnha fic #bnha fanfiction #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha imagine #mha fanfic #mha fanfiction #mha imagines #mha fluff