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frmisnow · 2 months

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✧˖ ?!— MY DISEASE ౨ৎ. - (NSFW.)

— ‧₊˚ — 🐰ྀི : " i can't get you or your pussy out of my head at all times, it's like a chronical disease ?? "

summary. jungkook, still in a post-sex haze, finds himself unable to resist gently touching you as you sleep, one thing leads to another- and resolves into the most toecurling god-sent slurp slurp head

notes. first ask completed BABYYY!! had an exam today (and four crying seshions yesterday but we move) - but it went so well that i rly felt like getting this out!! xx mae

warnings/includes. (015 + 003 / sleepy morning sex + body worship), service top! jungkook x f! reader, slight somnophilia? (but not rly), lowk he's a lil obssesed with her, pussy eating, reader dropped 'love you' for the first time

if you were awake, jungkook would've probably said smth about how he couldn't help it, about how his brain was still mushed from all the sex and all the sleep from before, that he just couldn't think right - and that's why his fingertips were already moving across your bare skin, since the split second he'd been conscious.

his fingertips traced delicate little imaginary roads from your collar bone to your belly, later on lying his head onto your chest trying to listen to your heartbeat, a few strands of his messy hair tickeling your skin.

he closed his eyes, finding comfort in the automatic thud of your heart, and your rhythmic breathing, quietly counting under his breath - god, he would've probably fallen asleep if you hadn't opened your eyes half way just in that moment as it took him only a single gaze to kiss you before you were even correctly processing, cupping your face instantly, a faint smile on his lips.

when jungkook finally let your breathe you mumbeled an incredibly creeked out, "baby" rubbing your eyes till a small grin makes a way onto your face "that's one hell to wake me up"

a soft chuckle escaped Jungkook's lips as he nestled closer to you, "couldn't help myself," he admitted with that cheeky grin he always did while playing with his lip ring, gaze filled with adoration, looking at your face with nothing but love in his eyes, "i see you- and it's just.." he paused looking at your lips again, "..happens"

placing two gentle peeks on both sides of your cheeks, squeezing them in process till giving you a proper kiss, going from tender and careful to more in depth, groaning smth inaudible when your lips seperated even for just a few seconds till he repeated it once again, "you're so pretty"

nuzzling into the crook of your neck, warm breath against your skin as he left a line of saliva, lazily licking and kissing the sensitive skin as he noticed all the hickeys he had placed a few hours prior, eyes half lidded as his finger ran over the skin almost like he was in a mix of concerned and fascinated: "went to rough on you, baby, i'm so sorry"

with a tiny smile, you tilted your head to meet his gaze, reassurance shining in your eyes. "it's okay," you whispered, your voice a gentle caress. "wanted every bit of it"

you cupped his face, running your hand through his hair to make it even more messy - a reassuring gesture.

"y'know.." he paused, gaze zoning out like he was deeply in thought on how he should put his next words out, "i just wanna make you feel good, i always do," fingertips wandering lower and lower with every word, "whenever i see you i feel so- needy" a small smile grazing his face, avoiding your eyes for just a little, "i can't get you or your pussy out of my head at all times, it's like a chronical disease"

jungkook sighed like he was tired of his inner thoughts himself, "i just want you so bad at all times and i don't think that's healthy"

biting his lips innocently, gaze wandering down your body for a reason as you laughed when you saw his expression, "i think you're decribing obssesion but i don't necessarily mind"

"maybe," he muttered, careesing your tummy once more, leaning down to press three little peeks onto the skin before raising his head, looking at you like you own him money, not quite containing a grin "i really wanna eat you out," the grin widening, "did i say to much?"

"fuck yeah, make yourself cum with my tongue, c'mon use me"

his tone groaned out, not clearly audible against the constant sucking and licking of your clit and the whiny moans coming from your direction. your hands long engraved in his hair, tugging at times though he didn't seem to mind at all - in fact he seemed to increase the speed of his already skilled mouth whenever you jolted his head back, like it was that extra motivation he needed to keep going.

"was made to help you get of, make you feel good, fuckin- mmh," stopping his sentence when you lifted your hips ever so slightly.

as he added two fingers, easily sliding into the slickness, your walls instantly clenching around them, urling and massaging your sensitive spot as you threw your head back, eyes pressed shut together, feeling your stomach tightning, a little almost tickling feeling inside, signalising that you were close, pulling his hair one more time as you clenched around the two fingers at last.

he helped you ride out the orgasm easily, continuing to move his fingers now a lot more slower, that stupid grin still on his face yet at the same time his gaze seemed to stop on your face, admiring it though a bit of sweat sticked to your forehead, tiny strands of hair unevengly lying over your face but he truly looked at you like you were the most showstopping, gutwrenchingly beautiful woman on this damn planet.

"you're so pretty when you cum," you smiled, looking away from his face, sunlight bright in your face, "i'm so serious"

he got closer to you once again, placing his face on your shoulder, gently kissing the skin while looking at you, "i love how you put so much trust in me, how you can present yourself as so vulnerable against me, how you feel comfortable with me" with each word he placed a peek, going higher and higher, till his lips landed ever so softly on your cheeks.

"you're so important to me," quietly whispered as if there were people around you though you were both alone, "i wanna love you in every way there is, i never felt like that before"

he stopped the kissing for a few seconds, looking at you but his stare was rather calm, more loving then really expecting or pressuring you to answer yet you did what you feared doing so long.

"y'know how hard it is for me to say the three words you want me to say but i love you, i really do"

he smiled.

a smile that could light up a universe when it came down to it, a smile that could make millions of other people smile just as hard, that smile that made his eyes light up ever so brightly, dimples showing.

"that felt really good, scary but nonetheless goo-"

safe to say you didn't leave the bed that day.

#kpop smut #bts ff #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts imagines #bts x you #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #✉️ frmisnow! 1k follower event

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inkskinned · 2 months

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we were drunk off mezcal and my dog had his paws crossed like he was fancy and we were giggling about it and i told you that with the sun coming back i can feel my fingers again and you grabbed my wrist and jokingly shook my limp hands while saying i have you i got you and i wanted to tell you i love you in that moment but it's actually just that it's spring and love actually seems like something that i can afford once in a while so long as i'm not overwhelmed by the crushing weight of having to do my laundry

i don't get so sad on sundays anymore and part of that is you but also part of it is that i've been watching a bird melodrama in the tree outside my window - first the robins had the run of it, then the doves. most recently a family of sparrows came through. the sky was pink today like a kiss, and i felt the pastel wrap in a warm piebald snake around my chest and hum herself into my bones

thank god for every person that forgives me for the depressive spirals i go on every winter without-fail like i swear there are absolutes in this world and it's stuff like. stoats go white in winter. the sun comes over the east. when it gets cold all parts of my soul go numb and the light can't pass through my iris without a tattoo gun. how many times can i tell a friend i'm sorry i wasn't talking to you, i truly wasn't talking to anyone

thank god i can feel my skin right now and you hold my weak little hand in your hand and then you flip it over so you can read my palm and you're smiling while you run fingertips over lines and read out my fate like it says here you like a good grillcheese sandwich and admit it you make salads by buying the pre-made spring mix and i have all your astrology shit memorized and i read your horoscope first when i'm checking my own even-though-i-don't-believe-in-it (but just in case) and i want to kiss you just to watch the blush spread in a tulip from under your freckles in that way it does, how you pull back and wrinkle your nose in laughter

thank god but today for the first time in a month i finally texted my friends back and actually made plans to hang out (how's that! barring disaster!) and i let my dog put his big muddy paws on my nice sweater and yeah actually when it's bad i always think i can't do that again. i can't crawl back up that mountain

but the sun touched me on the face this morning and we had a nice long talk about it and i said i gotta go the long way again huh and she nodded and shook back her solarflare hair and looked over to her moon girlfriend and she said you can do it. better things on the horizon.

#seasonal affective disorder #this one for my #sad #girlies #writeblr

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rinneverse · 3 months

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࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 — 𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆. ˒ ⊹

syn. you think jealousy is a good look on aventurine. too bad he has to remind you that you belong to him, and him only. (1.8k) pair. aventurine x f!reader cw. jealous aventurine my beloved / fem-aligned reader / pet names used: pretty girl, doll, angel, princess, good girl / oral (f!receiving) / fingering / teasing and begging / prone bone / spanking (like.. one time) / p in v penetration / creampie / multiple rounds are insinuated. teehee. love, oak! loooorrrrrdddddd aventurine. i've been obsessed w him since he was mentioned in topaz's quest ♡. about to start the penacony quest now, i'm literally buzzing w/ excitement over seeing him!!!!!!!

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI. NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

aventurine thinks he can be a little bit... petty, sometimes.

but of course, who wouldn't be, when one sees some random stranger putting their hands all over what's theirs?

so obviously, aventurine does the one thing he does best.

put on a show.

"hey, pretty girl," aventurine drawls, sidling up to you as he slides an arm around your waist. the grip he has on your hip is near-bruising, the only indication that he was currently ticked off. "you tired of this bar yet? i'd like to leave soon." his voice is a soft croon as he brings his lips to your ear, warm breath brushing the sensitive skin there. "i've got better things for us to be doin' in mind."

you gasp, playfully slapping his chest. your attention is completely off the man you were just chatting up, and aventurine shoots him a lazy grin. the man merely grumbles and leaves.

it makes him feel pure satisfaction, really.

aventurine turns you in his grip so that you're chest to chest with him—forces you to tilt your head back to look up at him. he smiles prettily down at you, as if he weren't just scheming to whisk you away from all the attention you were just receiving.

"better things, huh?" you say, glossy lips forming a matching grin to his as you look up at the blond. "like what? that man was just about to buy me a drink, you know. how're you gonna make up for that?"

he nearly lets his perfect mask slip—a twitch of his eyebrow is all you notice. but he tilts his head, looks down at you with those pretty lavender eyes of his.

"oh doll, if you wanted a drink, why didn't you just say so?"

your eyes gleam with mischief. you trail your fingers up his chest, your lips pursing in a pout.

"it's more fun charming a guy into buying it.." you sigh dramatically.

"who says you haven't charmed me?"

"no one. everyone knows i've already got you wrapped around my finger."

he can't argue with that. no, he can't argue with the irrefutable truth.

because you do. he's wrapped around your pretty little finger, and you know it. you exploit it. he doesn't mind, though.

aventurine doesn't deal with what doesn't pay off. and in the end, a pretty thing like you always does.

so he smiles again, tilting your chin up with a gloved finger. he lets a little bit of the hunger he feels shine in his eyes—he basks in the way your eyes shutter, your red-painted lips parting slightly.

“how about this, then—will you let me charm you, pretty?” he purrs, thumb coming up to gently tug at your bottom lip.

your throat bobs as you swallow. a shallow nod of your head follows—as much as he’ll allow while he grips your chin.

“good. you know how great i am at making your dreams come true, don’t you?”

there’s no room for debate there, nor does he give you any; aventurine’s smug demeanor is never undeserved, if the way he has you grasping the sheets of his bed later is concrete proof of that.

“’venturine,” you whine, back arching off the ruffled white sheets of the bed, “please, need you inside me, noooow.” the last word comes out in a long moan as his fingers stroke just the right spot inside of you. a flick of his tongue against your puffy clit draws a cry of pleasure from your lips.

he hasn’t even taken his clothes off yet, and he already has you a mewling mess for him. again, he feels that familiar sense of satisfaction flow through him.

aeons. he loved seeing you so debauched, flushed and squirming beneath him as he draws orgasm after orgasm out of you.

“c’mon angel, one more time for me—you can do it, can’t you?”

the low drawl of his voice is drowned out by the lewd squelch of his fingers inside you, constantly moving and stroking your walls in just the way you liked it. at this rate, you were going to go insane, but you feel your climax cresting, rising up and up and up, until it comes crashing down with a particular crook of his fingers inside you. he doesn’t let up, doesn’t grant you any mercy as you sob and convulse with pleasure. “’venturineee!”

finally, finally, he stops, withdrawing his fingers (his sleeve is completely soaked with your essence, he notes smugly) and rising after a swift kiss to your sweet pussy. you lay there, a puddle of nerves still buzzing with pleasure.

the clink of his belt and the rustle of fabric falling to the floor, and then you’re being maneuvered so gently, rolled onto your front with large, gentle hands. there’s a pillow being slid under your hips, another for your pretty head, and then you feel the bed dip with the weight of aventurine settling into place right behind you.

you let out a soft cry as you feel the blunt head of his cock rub against your still too sensitive cunt, his hands gripping the plush globes of your ass as he spreads you for him. he loves the little sounds you make as he teases you, dipping the tip in but never quite going any farther than that.

no, he wanted to hear you beg for it.

“what do we say when we want something, princess?” aventurine hums, drawing the tip of his cock through your slick folds, achingly slow.

“oh,” you sigh sweetly. “need you to fuck me. please, ‘ven, need it so bad.”

your plea is like sugared candy on his tongue, a torturous substance he’s addicted to as he allows himself to slowly sink inside you. he takes his time—you’re whining and squirming beneath him, and he has to hold you still with firm hands—but only goes as far as an inch, shallowly moving his hips.

“like that?” he asks coyly.

you look over your shoulder to glare at him. at the nasty look you shoot him, his eyes narrow; he lifts a hand, only to bring it down on the sensitive skin on your ass. you let out a yelp.

“now, now, only good girls get what they want. you’re a good girl, aren’t ya?”

you respond with a desperate whine. aventurine knows when you’re reaching your limit though, and like the good person he is, he’s decided he’s had enough fun torturing you. besides, he’s nearing his own limit—the walls of your cunt just feel so delicious around him—and it’s taking a willpower of steel to not pound you into oblivion right then and there.

aventurine sighs dramatically, hands drifting up your spine, ghosting along your back. he likes the way you shiver beneath him, completely helpless to his whims. he’s quiet for a moment, drinking in the way you’re breathing harshly beneath him as he lets himself dip a little further into you, and then: “alright, i’ve teased you enough. you’ve been so good for me.”

the words are like music to your ears—as well as the only warning you receive before he’s gripping your hips, lifting and adjusting you so he hits just the angle he knows you like, and he starts a brutal pace that rips a harsh moan from your lips.

he’s absolutely unforgiving in the way he fucks you, but he knows it’s just the way you like it. searing, molten heat flows through your veins with every stroke, nerves like lightning as you’re overwhelmed with the all-consuming sensation of aventurine all over you. it’s not just the way he fucks you—the way he presses his chest to your back as his hips rut into you, the way he has you completely pinned, rough hands spreading you oh-so perfectly for him, the way his lips press to the nape of your neck, his breath ghosting along your skin as he groans, right up in your ear.

“fuck—you’re so fucking tight, pretty—yeah, you like this, don’t you? can feel you clenchin’ around my cock.” he makes a point to thrust his hips especially rough at the end of each sentence, coaxing a long, desperate moan from you. you’re mindlessly babbling at this point, barely able to form a coherent sentence as he fucks all sense of sanity from your head.

and when he snakes a hand around you, brushing down your navel towards the apex of your thighs, you let out a broken sob as deft fingers find your clit. paired with each perfectly aimed thrust, you’re coming undone beneath him in a matter of seconds, walls convulsing around him.

“where do you want me, angel?” aventurine coos in your ear. his voice is raspy, lust-drunk and breathy as he struggles to hold himself together, to stave off the orgasm he knows is imminent.

“inside,” you gasp out. “wan’ it inside!” your words slur together as he fucks you through your own orgasm. you feel electric as his hips start to stutter, your only other hint that aventurine is close, so so close, and you want him falling with you. so you clench the delicate muscles in your pelvis, walls fluttering around his cock so perfectly, it feels like life and death and infinity and oblivion all at once.

he presses deep inside you, holding you so tight to him as he cums, hard, just the way you wanted him to. you clutch the pillow under your head to ground yourself, muffling the moan you let out as his hips twitch and then eventually pull away, drawing himself out of you. the sensation makes you hiss softly, displeased at the empty feeling he leaves you with.

aventurine smiles at the sight—of you, blissfully fucked out on his bed, hips still slightly raised from the pillow as his cum drips out of you. it might’ve been obscene to some, but he was so utterly fucking obsessed with you that really, it’s got him ready to go for another round.

he only gives you a moment to catch your breath.

then you’re being flipped over, aventurine slotting himself between your legs, his already hard cock pressing against your messy cunt. he smiles down at you, a purely predatory look in his eyes as his gaze meets yours.

“don’t tell me you’re tired out already, princess,” he drawls, basking in the way your sleepy eyes widen with shock. “you’ve gotta cum at least a couple more times before i’m satisfied. i’m gonna make sure my name is the only one you remember, ‘kay?”

and as he slides into you, torturously slow, you realize that you might just be in for a long night.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

#honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr smut #aventurine x reader #aventurine smut #☆ oakie writes #good morning yall

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neo-novaa · 1 year

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pretty boy

*ੈ✩ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ethan landry x reader

*ੈ✩ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: drinking/drunk characters, slightly very suggestive ending, no spoilers :)

*ੈ✩ 𝐚/𝐧: he is so babygirl

you’re on his lap, hands lost in his hair, his twitching around your waist. your teeth clash as you’re desperately pulling at each other to get as much contact as possible. his lips still taste like cheap vodka, and you’re sure yours tastes the same; through all his noise, you can still hear the party raging on only a few floors down.

you pull away to catch your breath, and your fingers are gently tracing the edges of ethans face. he’s nearly panting, his breathing always gets so husky when he’s making out with you.

ethan moved to bring your lips to his, but you’re gently pushing on his shoulders.

“no, no—stop,” you whisper, cradling his face in your hands. “lemme just…look at you.”

you’re drunk. you’re really drunk. and as much as you want to kiss him, an even greater part of you just wants to look at him.

you trace his features; the soft wrinkles on his forehead, his prominent brow bone, the slight bags beneath his eyes and the almost invisible freckles just below them. you obsess over them.

“what are you doing?” ethan slurs, trying to escape your grasp.

“you’re pretty…” you’re mumbling to yourself. even through ethan’s silent protests you’re worship every detail of his face.

“you’re drunk.” he retaliates while you gently thumb his cheekbones.

“yeah, but i’m also right.” you scoff, grabbing ethans chin and yanking him towards you, rewarding him with a soft kiss on his cheek.

but you quickly return to mapping his skin, murmuring soft praise that even you weren’t aware of.

but ethan was. he was very, very aware of it.

“s’pretty,” your words slur together, coming out as soon as you’re able to think them.

“did you know that? y’so pretty ethan…” you’re gently running your thumbs along his lips, and ethan’s eyes are locked on yours.

“pretty boy…my pretty boy…” your fingers reach his neck and you trace the edges of ethans adams apple. you admire the way it hitches when you compliment him.

“you’re not too bad yourself,” he replies, nervously, and after nearly a minute of silence on your part. if you were only half as drunk as you were now, you might’ve been able to catch that gap, and pieced together that ethan almost definitely had to hype himself up to say something like that.

“oh yeah?” you straighten your back and your hands finally stop: one palm pressing into his chest, the other resting at the crook of his neck. you finally meet ethan’s gaze through glassy and half-lidded eyes.

you can feel his heart pounding beneath your fingertips.

you pull his lips to yours and ethan melts in the kiss. it’s nothing like the tooth and tongue from mere moments ago. it’s soft, languid, as if you have all the time in the world.

but unfortunately, and rather obviously, you don’t.

ethan had just finally worked up the courage to slide a hand under the hem of your shirt when the door swings open.

ah. it’s chad. and he’s so clearly, visibly, ostensibly drunk.

“yo someone just brought, like, three fucking keggers. i don’t give a shit about what you guys are doing you have got to get down here!”

at least he has the common courtesy to close the door behind him.

you look back to ethan, his warm hands firm on your waist, those dilated puppy dog eyes looking up at you.

“you’re not going anywhere.” he murmurs firmly, pressing his lips to your skin. “especially not after calling me all those names.”

and yeah, maybe you’ll miss out on the best kegger this university will ever have, but at least you could say you were fucking your boyfriend instead.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader smut #jack champion #scream vi #scream 6 #✧. ┊ scream !

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killuintense · 4 months

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leon taking care of you while you are ovulating!

it really was a whirlwind of emotions to be on your period, but most of all you suffered even more during the period when you were ovulating and seemed to be completely unhinged with Leon. sometimes you wondered why the poor guy hadn't ended up running away from you the instant that time of the month came when you saw him as a giant stuffed animal to keep your hands on whenever you could.

it was strange and annoying, but all too satisfying at the same time. on the one hand, ovulating you noticed those mood swings, going from happiness to absolute sadness or anger that made you want to crush your own bones. but your cute boyfriend was always there to make up for it, telling you it was okay if you inadvertently got too angry with him or crying for some stupid reason; he never blamed you.

nor did he blame you when you seemed to want to have your hands all over him all the time. but you were horny all the fucking time, and when he was at work you would fantasize about having him touch you at every turn, and when he was with you your hands would become a whirlwind on top of his body "what's going on, love?" he looked confused as you tried to lift his shirt and touch his pecs, pouting as you noticed he was ticklish and gently lowered your hands.

"let me touch you!" your whimsical voice caused him to giggle more, he knew you were like this because you were close to your period, and he always gave you what you wanted because he was weak to you. and it wasn't that it always ended in something properly sexual, sometimes they would just spend whole minutes kissing and he would let you caress his body, squeezing his arms, stroking his hair. It all seemed to make you feel full and satisfied.

that is until your period was near and your tits started to swell and get tender. it was the most painful moment but, as contradictory as it sounded, it was when both of you fucked the most. you were so sore, even before you bled, that the only thing that soothed you was your man's cock. even his hands, without going any further.

you asked him with that puppy face to help soothe the pain in your breasts. your nipples looked like they were about to explode and he loved the sensation of feeling them get so hard the instant he ran his fingertips over them "so cute..." if his fingers weren't enough, he used his mouth to suck on the sensitive skin to make you tremble under him. those massages he gave you, even if there was a connotation of arousal, soothed you too much. his voice resonated with love and care "i have to learn to take care of them from now on, don't i, sweetheart?" he would kiss the skin gently, in that just right spot he knew so it wouldn't hurt but would cause you a 'something' "when you are with your tummy swollen from my baby and your tits full of milk, i have to take care of you so they don't hurt" and there you felt it was the death of you.

you seemed to have everything you needed, because it wasn't really the desire of both of you to be parents —because you were still very young—, but your desires for Leon to impregnate you and leave his mark inside you at that time of the month were too overwhelming. you whimpered when he said those kinds of things to you, when his hands kneaded your swollen, sensitive skin. you were so bad, so needy and ruined that that alone was enough to make you cum... yes, just that.

he laughed softly, as without having to bury himself between your legs you were already completely wet and, much to his dismay, exhausted from an instant orgasm that only left you half asleep in his arms with the pain in your breasts calmer and your mind full of images of you holding the future love fruit of you and Leon in your arms. you seemed drugged by that sensation, almost without being aware before you fell asleep in a tranquility where you knew that even on the most sensitive days you would have your boyfriend to please you in whatever way you wanted.

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sonnyaavce · 5 months

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DP x DC prompt # 6

There’s a kid crying, a blue skinned white headed kid that was just sitting there crying his eyes out in a panic as he was covered in a very large and dark cloak that was dwarfing him… that was cute to see but, the thing wouldn’t be an issue if there weren’t for the clusterfuck of dead cultist surrounding a green ominous portal under him while the poor kiddo shed luminescent tears nonstop.

“Why is there a kid?” ‘dumb question to ask Captain but sure let’s go with that yeah?’ scoffed annoyed Constantine after eyeing the magic champion while some of the members of the Justice League finished some of the goons that were still alive and resisting, Constantine just watched in dumbfounded stupor the crying baby eldritch abomination still wailing over there.

“I’ll go check on him first” said Wonder Woman, being the first to react after finishing her part, slowly walking forward with gentle steps and humming tunes to make the small baby calm down a bit and refocus on her. Dianna never went too closer to grab the small kid, but she slowly crouched in front of him, palms out and leveling her face in a calm expression, so the kid wouldn’t freak out while she still hummed songs and cooed calming words.

The poor kid wails gradually subsided and ‘oh my god, why are those eyes way too green!’ His eyes were completely black except his irises being a bright neon green shine, his small body trembled when only small hiccups stayed, in his small crying fit the lad had ended up sucking his thumb in a desperate attempt to calm down while looking for any non-frightening competent adult and after only seeing Dianna in front of him he tried to raise his small arms towards her but immediately cried as his arms wouldn’t move at all.

“I think the little boy is injured…” said Wonder Woman, breaking the silence once all suspects were aprehended and tied down “explain what you can see Wonder Woman” chastised Batman as he tried to walk towards her to check on the small boy only to be stopped by Superman, who had his eyes shinning red as he looked at the kid “For what I can see, the small child seems to have some broken bones and some internal bleeding… also there’s seems to be a sphere in the middle of his chest?”

“The demon baby is hurt?” Constantine blurted out incredulous, Zatanna wacked him furiously for that comment “if you haven’t heard what Superman said, he said he saw a sphere so it’s not a demon John! it’s a tuttelagé you idiot!”

“How the fuck would you know that isn’t a démonos, Z?!” cussed the magician as he moved a bit back while Zatanna then moved towards Wonder Woman, with spells already healing the poor baby body “tuttelagés are known to be protective spirits of kids that died wishing to protect their loved ones, their wish is then concentrated in their chest as a sphere so to see a young one hurt like this…” Wonder Woman looks grimm at the implications while Zatanna finish healing the young spirit and allows Dianna to pick him up once he’s done healing and calmed down bit.

“Someone must have hurt his protegué so bad that his body is getting affected by it” sentenced Batman as he glared with concern at the small baby who now is now resting his head in Wonder Woman arms and falling asleep.

MEANWHILE

Danny is soo scared and hurt all around his tiny body, the wounds he had while being subjected to the examine table makes him tear up in pain while also making his chest feels funny once the weird forced summoning spell stops pulling his being into existing; green stops flooding his vision only to be meet by a dark and open space full of dead people dressed in weird costumes, so the only answer he has to this is to wail.

Because thats all he can do now, cry. He cries and cries after all what had occurred to him; he cries for his parents betrayal and rejection of his being, he cries for the cruelty they subjected him into, the torture he had to endure and almost making his core break, he cries for his friends deaths when they tried to free him from all his pain but failed.

He cries and cries until the pain into his core is unbearable because he just lost his fright, his connection to the living, his reason of being here. He’s still crying when his senses tenses the moment something changed in his surroundings, he hears fighting and grunting and something falling down and he cries harder; because he’s scared and tired and he just wants Jazz to carry him and…

There’s someone humming, nice humming, calm humming, steps coming closer and then he looks up, scared and hurt and just tired only to find a beautiful black headed and blue eyes woman dressed in a nice outfit crouching in front of him, she’s humming something to him and just looking at him with calm and such gentleness that it makes him croon at her because he feels his core sing ‘she’s nice and pretty and safeSAFEsafeSAFE’ he tries to reach out to her but his arms fell numb and ouchie and he looks up to her, in a silent plea for her so she would carry him but she’s not moving, just looking at him gently.

Until he sees another woman coming closer to them and he tenses up again, afraid and cautious, still a bit frightened by her aura but her hands are starting to glow and he immediately feels his body swaying and feeling a lot better, so he relaxes his body and let’s the pretty woman carry him so he can rest his head and nuzzle asleep.

His core sings pleased ‘I’m safe… she’s nice and safeSAFEsafeSAFE’

#danny phantom #dpxdc #dp x dc writing prompt #justice league #danny fenton #baby Danny

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astralnymphh · 4 months

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i've said this before, but ellie loves being straddled. esp jackson!ellie, when you prompt the position yourself, shifting weight onto your knees n' tossing a leg over right as two r cuddling, like the legit moment you do it her lids hastily peel back and you see her arm reach out for your hips like a reflex— bends at the knees behind you where her thighs press into ur' butt n' fuuckk she gives a faint squeeze to your hip bones, notably her thumb on the opposite side of the bone so you truly feel that dimpled push, and her other fingers inching the round of your butt— on the sly she eases you further on her hips/belly, skimp roll of her groin creasing the fabric under your bottom blehhhh AND THE BUTTON OF HER FLY POKING YOU DELICATELY AUGHH.

tries to keep the conversation ordinary— but her voice, her fucking voiceeee would be so nasally and lush with dry scoffs, "pshh— please, you probably don't know the first thing about 'the turning'." when all she wants to do is flip your body plumb to the mattress and bury you in it with soft, wanton nibbles weaving through the bare/revealing bits of your shirt, to have you giggling and bucking when she ruts her frame through the gap of your spread thighs n' envelop herself in the plush skin, to leave an impression with the tight jam of her fingers fondling said plush fat on your flesh, pretty little raw marks, lovely hidden traces of how fucking bad she needs to take you. ♡

sorry like. ellie x reader starting a relationship in jackson is literally my empire i need to write a whole fucking drabble book on it (or fucking finish tps LMAO) also this angelgbc pic AHHHHHH (dunno the direct source but pls lmk so i can credit)

also update on knight!ellie fic it's going smooth but because it's the prologue it's sooo lore heavy before the romance and tension actually begins to bloom BUTT LIKE heyy!! slowly leads up to some romantic n dirty smut scenes in other chapters!!

#ellie williams #⊱🦷.•aestra talks #this post was supposed to be short fml #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #lesbian #sapphic #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras asks #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams concept #jackson!ellie

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chrollohearttags · 4 months

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random firefighter!ace headcanons (while I finish this fic!)

warnings: nothing too bad! some fluffiness and silly!ace, a few nsfw things under the cut, alcohol mentions, food mentions

firefighter!ace is surprisingly a neat freak. At least around the firehouse..he does weekly inspections and is very meticulous about how the equipment is stored. He has his own little system and everything. (his apartment is another story though!)

firefighter!ace thinks he is the appointed cook in the firehouse. Mans throws down in the kitchen and will make enough to feed an army. (he’s half Filipino in my head idc idc) so he cooks a lot of Asian fusion dishes, recipes passed down from his mom and family and yes, he insists on making them for (y/n) too on ‘date’ nights.

firefighter!ace is a CLOWN and a half. He keeps everybody in high spirits, especially after a rough call. Dancing, playing music, cracking jokes, playing cards..he will never let his team stay down for too long! (hc that he loves Bad Bunny, J Balvin and a lil bit of dancehall 🤭.) went to the club with (y/n) once and you were shocked when you started whining on him and he knew what to do with it!

firefighter!ace keeps teddy bears and dolls in the fire truck in case there are children at the scene and he always rushes to comfort them.

firefighter!ace spends his days off hiking, camping, running and doing a bunch of nature-centric activities. He loves the outdoors and wants to share that passion with you! He gets sooo excited when you agree to go on a hike with him up to this canyon he’s trekked a few times, surprised when you beat him up there. “You’re really good at this, rookie. You can run more than your mouth.” “Nah, I just wanted to kick your ass, that’s all.”

firefighter!ace is an animal lover. He has two cats and the firehouse dog is his literal son. He pets random animals whilst out at the park and will come over to your apartment just to ignore you and play with your kittens! “Anyways, I’m not here for you. I came to see my daughter, thank you.” 😭

firefighter!ace is the life of the party and that even gets worse when he drinks. He can handle his liquor pretty well so he doesn’t fall all over the place but he is way too lively when he’s drunk!

firefighter!ace does have a bit of a fashion game. He and his brother are sneaker heads and collect them so his closet is filled with all sorts of shoes. He has more a rustic, indie/hippy aesthetic but he dresses really nice when he needs to.

firefighter!ace loves the idea of sneaking around the firehouse with you. Getting in quickies with the very little free time and privacy you have. Covering your mouth as he gets you up against the wall in the bunks. “C’mon, rookie. We only have a few minutes, don’t get us caught.”

firefighter!ace is a back kisser, neck licker and suck toes. He’s so attentive and loving when you guys do get your alone time. Especially when you’ve had an attitude all week and he knows what you need. He will give you the slowest strokes while looking deep in your eyes and prone bone because he doesn’t want you doing any of the work. “Is this what you wanted, baby? Needed me stretch you out? Should’ve just said that from the beginning.”

firefighter!ace lovesssss showering together. Not just for the sexual aspect but the intimacy of it. Touching and feeling every inch of your skin, kissing you real slow underneath falling water and holding your face. Seeing your skin all lathered up in soap and just admiring every inch of your body. “You’re so soft..I love it.”

firefighter!ace gets so intense and passionate, becoming a little possessive..fucking you like it’s the last time after extremely dangerous calls. If there was an instant where your life has been in danger or he was scared of losing you, he all but puts you through the mattress, making you whimper and claw at the sheets as you scream his name. He cries into your neck/shoulder, just confessing his feelings. “You’re mine..you got that? Don’t you ever scare me again.”

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nymphomatique · 6 months

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Thinking of overstimulating nerd!miguel to the point of tears and squirting (people w penises squirt too if the tip is stimulated enough!)

read this ask and immediately took it too far i’m depraved,,, miguel gets pegged and squirts 😔

cw: gn!reader, you can either have on a strap or have a real pp 🕺🏽, pegging, d/s dynamics, spit, anal fingering, unprotected anal sex (use protection!!!), prone bone, bad ending i didn’t know how to finish this off LMFAO, erm idk at this point 😔 not proofread you guys know the deal. enjoy!

you were sitting on the couch in your dorm (what your mothers money could buy, you were some days grateful for), back against the arm, scrolling aimlessly on your laptop. next to you say miguel, your feet in his lap as he massaged them gently. he was engrossed in whatever science fiction movie was playing on your flatscreen tv. ex-machina you want to say? the two of you sat like this for a while, but knowing miguel, you’re not surprised when you feel something stiff brush against your feet in his lap.

your eyes flit over your laptop to miguel’s face. even with only partial view of his face, you can see the light tint of red upon his cheeks, and you can’t help but smile a bit. “hey,” you call out, lowering your laptop screen and placing it on the floor to fully look at his side profile. he responds with an inquisitive hum, still focused on the movie.

“i can feel your dick stabbing my feet, you freak,” you laugh out, crossing your arms under your chest. miguel turns to look at you and starts sputtering an apology, but you’re swinging your feet off of his lap to stand, placing yourself within his lap. your hand comes up to his face, your four fingers and thumb on either side squishing his cheeks mid sentence.

“who said i didn’t like it?” you say, looking at him in his deep eyes. you can’t help but be honest when caught in the crossfire of his gaze. you let go of his cheeks, your arms wrapping around his neck and your face burried within the book between his face and your arm. your lips are right next his ear, and with a smile you lick up the shell of it, earning a soft “f-fuck” and a buck of miguel’s hips up into yours. you let out a giggle and move your head to face him again, arms still around his strong neck. his hands move from their grip on their couch to your hips. much better, you think.

for a moment, you look at him, and he looks at you. miguel, miguel, miguel. he’s all encompassing. no matter how much control you feel you yield over him, you find yourself weak to him. submissive in your own right to him, and it tears you apart inside. you blink back your thoughts, and succumb to the pull you feel towards him in the moment. i really want to kiss you, you think. and you do, you kiss him soft, lips touching ever so lightly you feel as if you’ll pass out if you take anymore from him, if he gives anymore to you. and the kiss is soft for a while, your hands coming to cusp his face in your embrace. his hands rub soft circles within your hips. you pull apart, and you feel overwhelmed at the sight of him. abashed and turned on, the two of you are. looking at him in this moment is like looking in a mirror, you feel to intense want wafting off him.

“wanna try somethin’ with you,” you state, still sat atop him, letting yourself fall into the brown pools of color in his eyes. “yeah?” he nods, and his fingers rub up and down your sides slowly, an act you’re sure is one he’s doing absent mindedly but you can’t help but feel the heat trickle into your abdomen at the sensation.

“wanna fuck your ass,” you say, watching his face. a look of surprise takes over, and you see him silently contemplating what to answer you with. you look at him, silently trying to say it’s okay to say no, without wanting to crawl out of your skin if embarrassed for feeling so scared to ask the question in the first place. after a moments silence, he answers. “okay.” steady, sure.

you feel like the pressure crushing your chest has lifted, the tension dissolving into an impatient arousal. you kiss him once more, chaste, and get off of his lap to strip, and you command him the same. once both naked, you grab his hand and walk to your bed, ditching the uncomfortable couch you were laying on. “lay down f’me,” you say, pushing miguel down to the bed by his chest. and ever so obediently, he does as you say. and you can’t help but feel proud, smug even. he does what only you say, nobody else.

you look upon his naked body, taking a moment to admire him brazen muscle and braun, his trail of black hair starting at his lower abdomen, trailing to the base of his thick cock. you feel a tightness squeeze within you looking at his dick, mouthwateringly beautiful and thick. you crawl onto the bed stomach down, and position your head between his thighs. “knees up,” you tell him, kissing his inner thigh. he does as you tell him, a small sigh leaving him. “so pretty down here, aren’t you?” you say, grabbing his dick with your left hand. wordlessly, you take it slow, licking small stripes along the shaft of him, thumb rubbing circles around his tip tenderly. you lick, and lick, and rub until you feel yourself getting impatient to taste him, the precinct swirling and spreading under your thumb making you salivate, you remove your hands from him opting to cup his balls as you take him in your mouth slowly at first. you sink down until your throat encases all of miguel within you. miguel hisses at the feeling and his hips jerk up, and you moan around him. you pull your head back, and forward until you’re in a steady rhythm of milking him with your throat.

“f-feels good. g’nna cum- fuck!” miguel hisses. you remove him from you throat and veer towards his balls, heavy and waiting right below his thick cock. you don’t hesitate to put the sack into your mouth, suckling softly as your hand jerks him up and down in quick pace. under your ministrations, miguel slowly unravels at the seams, your stimulation making him burn up inside. your unoccupied left hand trails up miguel’s leg, from his knees and up his thigh. from there, you move your hand down to miguel’s ass, using a finger to scoop up the trail of spit leaking down between your mouth and his taint, coating your finger in it. after lubricating your finger, you slowly move to circle the ring of muscle, throbbing under your touch. you rub around the tight hole, hearing miguel’s moans at your teasing.

you take your mouth off of his balls, licking a stripe up from his sack to the tip of his leaking dick. “tell me you want my finger in that tight little ass of yours,” you say, lust oozing from your voice.

“please! need your fingers inside me,” he breathes out, clearly frustrated at your sudden halt in pleasuring him.

“i know you do, baby, can’t wait to destroy your ass,” you whisper, kissing your way down miguel’s shaft to his balls once more. your lips engulf the skin, warming and massage it within your mouth. your jerking continues as well, and you finally push your finger slowly into miguel’s ass.

“f-fuck, thank you, feels so good. ah!”

you pump your finger slowly in an out slowly, eventually working into an even rhythm. “just one finger and you’re fallin’ apart f’me?” you tease, stoping your stimuli on his balls. “gonna put another finger up there, bet you want that huh?” you ask, jerking him up and down quickly as your fingers caress his anal walls.

“yes! please oh my god i’ll do anythi-“

you insert another finger, curling them upwards while you pull and push in and out. miguel is uncontrollable underneath you, squirming and twitching haphazardly on the bed. you spit on his ass, adding a third finger within him. his hips buck up, and you can’t help but giggle at his inability to control himself. “i know you feel good, cum for me baby.” and he does, spurting his cum all over your slowing hand, your jerking coming to a halt along with your prodding fingers. you remove your hands from miguel, crawling up the bed to reach his face. he looks sated and blissed, eyes closed and chest heaving.

you bring your hand up to carcass the side of his face, and his eyes flutter open. “taste yourself,” you say, moving your cum coated fingers into miguel’s mouth, a mouth that sucks you clean with no hesitation. his tongue swirls around your fingers, warming and wetting them simultaneously.

“fuck miguel, should see how you look suckin’ on me like that,” you sigh out. you pull your fingers from his mouth slowly, watching his lips let your ligaments go. “not done with you yet baby, turn around f’me,” you say to him, tapping his cheeks softly. lackadaisically, he turns onto his stomach, ass up.

you prep yourself behind him and move to grab the lube in the nightstand next to you. you open the bottle and slick yourself up, pouring some between miguel’s cheeks as well. the coldness causes him to jump and you laugh, “ready?” you ask.

“yes, p-please.”

you place your legs on the outside of either of miguel’s and lean your pelvis forward, pushing your dick through his tight sphincter. immediately you’re met with resistance, miguel silent but still tensing at the intrusion. “gotta loosen up for me, yeah? wanna get fucked like a good little boy dontcha? need to fit myself inside you,” you say, massaging miguel’s ass with both hands.

you hear miguel whimpering and let out a soft okay, and you continue to push, slowly. “fuckin’ squeezing my dick down there, miguel. you want it that bad?” you tease him. he lets out a moan in protest, but you shush him. “s’okay. you know it’s my job to fuck you like you need, hmm? todays no different.”

you push until you’ve reached the hilt, pelvis against miguel’s ass, chest against his back. “tell me when you’re ready, okay?” you whisper in his ear. and after a minute, he breaks the silence with a ready, and you slowly pull yourself out, and pushing back in, falling into a soft rhythm. here and there, you hear a quiet moan from miguel, until he gets restless and tells you to go faster.

and faster you go, lifting your hips up and slamming them back down, the contact of your pelvis against miguel’s ass reverberating loudly through your dorm.

“f-feels so good. fuck my ass harder, p-please!” miguel groans. who are you to deny him? with you arms as leverage and your knees on the bed, you use all the momentum you have to fuck him senselessly as he asked you too. and you fucking him hard, your thrusts causing a cry of pleasure or a string of curses everytime you come down onto him. you’re so good, miguel starts crying.

“p-please let me cum- feels so good ohmygod, fuck! s-so big, i feel so good. thank you thank you thank you,” miguel babbles, and you kiss the back of his neck, fucking him deep and hard. “cum for me, show me how good i make you feel,” you grown out, feeling your finish peaking over the horizon.

you lift yourself up and grab miguel’s hips to bring them up, fucking him in doggy so you can jerk him off. his dick is incredibly hard when you reach around to touch it, his tip red and weeping. you thumb his tip and he starts shaking as he fucks himself back onto you.

“g-gonna pee, s-stop,” miguel breathes out. “nuh-uh, let it all out right here baby,” you say, hips still fucking into him brutally. log my god he groans, head falling into the sheets.

you jerk him as you fuck him, relentless in your stimulating. and finally, with a weak moan, miguel groans and shudders while he squirts clear liquid all over your sheets. you grown at the mess he made, fucking up into him for a few more thrusts until you finish. when you finally pull out of miguel, he lets out a whine and you laugh, laying down against him.

“i can’t believe you actually squirted,” you laugh. and he covers his face with your silk cased pillow, embarrassed. you can’t help but laugh and kiss his forehead.

“alright, get up water hose, gotta clean you and my bed.”

#<nerd!miguel3 #you’ve got mail💌#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel atsv smut #miguel o’hara x you #sub miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut

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lomlompurim · 4 months

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What if instead of waking up in the mushroom body, sqq woke up in a doll.

Something something while lbh was away in the abyss, sqq without noticing offended a misterious (demonic-succubi-esque???) cultivator with a weird thing for making dolls. She had dolls all over her secret workshop that she very kindly let him into when she heard about the famous Xiu Ya sword being in the city.

What she wanted of him? Who knows, sqq couldn't bring himself to care. She probably wanted his money or try to steal his hair, the hair of those dolls seemed very much like real hair, although he had to admit the level of details on these dolls were amazing.

(she wanted to trick him into buying one of her cursed dolls and steal his life energy little by little, but got wifebeamed by widow sqq during their conversation about how talented she was to be able to make so many dolls, and without really understanding he rejected her with little to no emotion on his face)

So she cursed him, and since sqq didn't feel anything bad at the moment he thought it just didn't work and left, not sparing the curse a single thought after their encounter.

The rest of the story goes as usual, excep that after he self detonates his soul doesn't go into the mushroom body, instead it got directly into the shape of a doll in the workshop of this woman.

His first thought is thinking someone snitched the mushroom body bc wtf wasn't he supposed to wake up under the dirt??? Why this place smells slightly familiar? Like paint and humidity and floral perfumes?? and why everything looks fucking giganourmus?!?! A teapot should NOT look that big from his position....Oh no, did the mushroom body turned out as small as a squirrel? WhAT is happening?!

And then he looks at his arms and legs, and he has joints. White paper skin with joints in his wrists, elbows, torso, waist, knees, feet. And he panics, a lot.

The woman who cursed him starts monologuing about how she trapped him now, and you are mine, I made this doll specially for you master shen, this is my revenge for your insolence to leave me yada yada- Sqq stoped listening a while ago.

Somehow he manages to escape from this woman and now he is roaming around as the size of some apples. Everything is huge. Everything is dangerous, even the grasshopers! And this body is fragile! He can't feel heat nor cold, neither hunger or other things, but he is useless with no spiritual veins inside, and if someone is not looking carefully, they might crush him. And the way back to cq is gonna be a hell of a trip! But he needs airplane to fix this. He can't stay as a doll forever! He needs a mushroom body and then fly into the sunset far from this mess! Adiós! Goodbye! So his new plan is to infiltrate into cang qiong, look for that rat and disappear. Sneaking into some disciple's pouch must be enough to break in.

Something something it only had passed a few months since lbh stole sqq's body and everything is still very fresh. CQ mountain is a hot mess. Sqh frankly needs to lay down and take a nap. Lqg keeps figthing with Lbh practially every day and coming back beaten bloody, he has his king pestering him and a lot of paperwork to do, Lbh is a pain in the ass, Yqy is really close to snap and start a war with HHP, and he knows nothing about his bro. So yeah. Such a great time to be alive.

The mushroom bodies should had been ready, right? He must be alright...Yeah. He has enough already to keep him busy. Cucumber bro is gonna come out and stumble across at any moment. No one would bat an eye if he takes a nap, right? He deserves it. He is overworked enough for another lifetime, his head hurts, his bones hurt everywhere, a short nap should be fine...

Until he feels something small tugging his robes and a cold tiny finger poking his eyelids. But he doesn't want to. He is very comfortable on the floor of his office. Whatever bird decided to pick a fight with his face can keep trying.

"AIRPLANE, WAKE UP, YOU HACK! I NEED YOU TO FIX THIS! WHY IS A WITCH WITH ANACHRONISTIC HAUNTED DOLLS IN THIS NOVEL? THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

That voice. That fucking annoying voice was of just one person and one person only. He opened his eyes, looking for the source of the unmistakable voice of his No1 hater, but he came across with a pretty porcelain doll. With a very ugly sneer in it's face.

"W-Wha-?...Bro-?!"

"Fucking finally! Why are you sleeping on the floor in your ofice?! I was looking around your bedroom like an idiot! Do you know how close I was to falling from your window?!"

-TBC-

#svsss #shen qingqiu #人渣反派自救系统 #I don't have a lot about this au bc I just imagined it today #shen yuan in a doll body au #I still need to reach lbh #oh boy that is a can of worms idk if im prepared to open #so any idea of how to progress the story is welcome #since he would be still in his strongest shock and denial #what if sqh has to bring sqq along w him to hhp bc he has there all his plans and secret stuff idk #or to use any hhp treasure or smt #too many posibilites and imma sleep #wip #shang qinghua #I got this idea while watching Barbie

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winterrrnight · 1 month

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writing more on this at 12.42 am at night cause I am really in my feels and I need this so bad… <3 listen to redbone by childish gambino at 3.47, trust me <3 cw: smoking weed, suggestive content (no actual smut, just a lot of intimacy), intentional use of lower case <3 for @congratsloserr <3 (ily bb 🌷) <3 pictures are just for reference and to help you imagine what I have in mind!

part of this little universe <3

you don’t remember how it happened.

your best friend rafe came over like all the other times he comes over at your place. you sit next to each other in your bed as you play music, just like all the other times. you both share a joint, just like all the other times.

but this time, there’s something different in the air. maybe it’s the new cologne he’s started wearing which is taking a toll over your brain, or maybe it’s the white t-shirt showing off his formed biceps, or maybe it’s the dim, pink lighting of the led lights you just installed; but whatever it is, here you are, sitting in his lap with your legs on either side of his waist, your face nuzzled in his neck, and the sensual instrumentals of redbone are filling the background.

if anything, it’s only elevating the moment more and more. the joint hangs limply in between rafe’s lips as his head remains tilted to the other side, his eyes closed as your lips press soft, saccharine kisses to his heated skin, your hands holding his face. his eyes remain closed, the current moment heightened not only from your deeply intimate touch, but from the thc hazing his and your mind.

his hands remain firmly planted at the sides of your waist, lifting your t-shirt up just a bit so he can feel that soft skin under his touch. deep exhales leave his nose, the pungent, skunky odor of weed surrounding you both in its cloud as you remain wrapped up in the moment.

his fingers press into your skin and a sigh escapes him as he feels your lips slowly travel to his throat, his head leaning back against the headboard to grant you as much skin as he can. your lips trail up and up, finding his chiseled jawline as you press kisses along the strong bone, making your way up to his cheek, and then finally his lips.

you hover over his lips for a second, gently tracing his bottom lip with your thumb and he looks at you through his lashes, your gentle touch being just about the best thing at the moment as the thc creeps more and more into his brain.

you slot the joint in his lips between your index and middle finger and slowly slide it out of his mouth, before letting your own lips wrap around the end. you take a deep, long drag and flutter your eyes shut as you throw your head back, letting the smoke roll off your lips.

rafe watches you, so entranced by every movement of yours, and the melody of redbone only makes him crave more and more. you bring your head back to his level, meeting your own dreamy gaze with his as you pull the joint out of your mouth, and lean in closer to him.

there is merely a few inches of distance between you two, and he knows he can’t control himself anymore; causing him to push his lips against yours. you adjust yourself in his lap so you’re even closer to him, your fingers gently circling his shoulders through his t-shirt as your lips slowly move against his, the taste of the mint lip balm he always uses along with the weed spilling onto your own tongue, sending you in a high beyond euphoric than the one provided by a simple blunt.

— —

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, my writing is really a social experiment lately as I’m trying out different things, so any sorts of feedback is really highly appreciated!! <3

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too-much-tma-stuff · 18 days

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Finally Getting Help (pt 12)

Masterpost

“Ya, I have questions,” Jason confirmed, trying not to shift awkwardly in his seat. “I read the slideshow but I don’t seem to fit in either liminals or ghosts, and I have some issues that I think would have been mentioned if they were common?”

“Alright, what are they?” Danny asked tilting his head a little.

“Well, it’s been better since meeting you, and I know increased aggression was one of the thing mentioned but mine isn’t like Damian’s, or even yours I think. We’ve been calling it Pit Madness. I’ve gotten better at managing it but especially when I got back it was really bad. I… killed a ton of people and I still have a lot of bloodlust that no one is comfortable with.”

“That is unusual, especially directed towards humans. Aside from revenge against whoever killed them dead usually don’t care very much about the living,” Danny said curiously, considering Jason.

“And I do read as- as dead?” Jason asked, he had been worried about that.

“Well you’re obviously not Dead dead,” Danny said rolling his eyes before he reached across the table. “Here, with touch I can figure out a bit more.” He said and Jason hesitated for a moment before resting his hand in Danny’s.

A cool feeling quickly washed up his arm and over his chest like intangible water. Danny tilted his head to the other side, his brows coming together slowly as he gazed into the middle distance and considered what he was feeling. He let out a hiss and some sort of chitter that couldn’t come from a human throat, then clicked his tongue and the cool feeling dissipated, sinking under Jason’s skin and cooling heat he hadn’t been aware of feeling.

“Okay, ya that’s weird,” Danny admitted and Jason’s heart dropped. “Best I can equate it to is, like a bone that healed wrong,” Danny said thoughtfully. “You did die before?” He asked, Jason nodded mutely. “Okay, I won’t ask why or how. But best I can tell your soul was shoved back into your body and not given time to get settled back in it’s proper position before whatever was done to bind it in place. So you’re alive but with some.. Spiritual nerve and brain damage. Would you be comfortable telling me how you were resurrected?”

“Well, I resurrected myself apparently. I don’t really remember it but apparently about six months after my death I dug myself out of my grave. Before I could get anywhere the League of Shadows found me and dunked me in the Lazarus pit which is this glowing green stuff that heals the dying and kills the healthy. I don’t remember any of it, it was almost a year before I recovered enough to be myself at all.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Danny said, nodding thoughtfully. “My guess would be at first you came back as a revenant, which is basically when a ghost possesses their own corpse to get revenge, not truly a living being. But then this Lazarus pit resurrected your body and your soul got stuck in your living body again without being prepared or intending for that to happen.

“That’s what I’m guessing happened but I can’t be sure, and I’m not a healer so I don’t really know what to do about it. I’m sure my ghost doctor Frostbite would be happy to take a look at you though! Looks like we’ll be making an appointment for you too,” He joked making Jason chuckle nervously.

“Well that’s.. Totally fucked up,” Jason said and Danny nodded.

“Ya, dying is basically always fucked up, coming back Specifically for revenge and then getting stuck here long after that’s a motivating factor is messy. I mean, for a human that would be fine, but for people like us,” He gestured between the two of them. “Obsessions are everything so that’s hard. You’ve been cultivating more healthy obsessions I know but you’ll never be the same,” Danny said, and Jason nodded.

He knew as much, he could never go back. Not that he hadn’t always had these sorts of thoughts and inclinations. Once of the reasons Bruce had taken on him and Dick was their murderous inclinations needed to be curbed, for Dick it had work, for Jason… Well it was a combination of a lot of things, it wasn’t really Bruce’s fault it had failed. Other than the fact that he’d let the Joker live far longer than he should have, but that was bleeding-heart-Brucie for you. It was funny, to not really be mad at Bruce anymore, understanding there was nothing else he could have done, and still not be able to forgive him.

Danny must have noticed how Jason had gotten lost in his own head because he reached across the table and covered one of Jason’s clenched hands with his own, soft and cool. “You’re doing really well Jason. It’s a messed up situation but I don't think anyone could have handled it better then you are,” Danny said softly.

Jason didn’t believe it but it felt good to hear and it did settle him a little bit. “Thanks Danny, that means a lot,” he said, giving Danny’s hand a squeeze before pulling back.

There was a natural break in conversation as the waitress brought their appetizers, and when she left again Jason didn’t know what to say. Thankfully Danny spoke. “Why don’t I tell you a bit about my doctor? Frostbite can be a lot, as much as it would probably be funny to spring him on you I should probably give you a heads up.”

“Ya, ya that sounds good,” Jason agreed, glad to let Danny do the talking for a bit. And when telling him about Frostbite turned into talking about the Yetis, to talking about the Infinite Realms, to Danny info-dumping about space. Well Jason really doesn’t mind, especially with the way it makes Danny light up. It was good to see him happy.

---------

The food was good but Jason didn’t taste much of it, and aside from going “Oh wow!” When he took his first bite of his food Danny didn’t seem to either. At a certain point Jason realized he was going to have to do some talking or Danny was going to keep talking and wouldn’t eat. So he took over, but he didn’t know much about space so he started talking about literature and poetry and Danny listened raptly and finally ate his food.

It was very nice to have someone listen to him like that, it was sort of funny, it looked like it was as fun for Danny to listen to him talk then it had been the other way. Jason thought about how supporting obsessions was important for ghosts to have their obsessions supported. Reading wasn’t Really his obsession, he didn’t think, but it sure was an interest and it felt really good to get to share with someone new.

By the end of the dinner Jason has well and truly decided that this was a date. Danny was cute, good, and passionate, and a good listener, Oh and strong as Fuck which was always a turn on for Jason. Speaking of powerful…

“Can I ask you another sort of serious question?” Jason asked after they got their dessert. Danny looked up, mouth full and a little smear of chocolate on his top lip, Jason resisted the urge to reach across the table and wipe it off. Danny nodded. “When Damian gave me his little shovel talk he mentioned that you’re going to be a god some day?” He said, tilting his head. Maybe that was a third date sort of conversation but it seemed like it would be important to understanding Danny.

Danny choked a little and swallowed, sighing heavily. “That’s what I’ve been told,” Danny grumbled. “There’s a prophecy apparently, and with how my powers have been progressing even just in the first 2 years since I died, I can already go toe to toe with some Ancients and win so… Ya, I guess it’s probably inevitable, especially since I haven’t stagnated yet. I don’t want to be one really, I didn’t ask for this, but whatever. I probably can’t stop it.” He slumped back in the booth, looking tired.

Shit Jason shouldn’t have brought that up. “Hey you’ve got time right? That won’t be for a while. Also, what’s an Ancient?”

“Very old, very powerful spirits. They’re essentially their own pantheon, Ancient is basically just what ghosts call gods.” He said with a shrug.

“Makes sense, I mean gods usually are ancient. Even more reason you don’t have to worry about that right now. I mean you’re far from ancient,” Jason pointed out, earning himself a little smile from Danny.

“Ya, you’re right,” He agreed and went back to eating his dessert, the conversation moved on to the music they liked.

When the bill came Jason put his card down without letting Danny see what the bill came to and passed it back to the waitress. They lingered in the booth for a while still chatting, unwilling to part ways yet. If Jason didn’t know his family would want Danny home before they went out on patrol he might have suggested they just go to a park and walk for a while. Talk, maybe each take one of his wireless earbuds and take turns picking songs. But he had a feeling Damian really would try to kill Jason if he didn’t get to see Danny home safe.

Eventually they left, wandering back to Jason’s motorbike and Danny snuggled up to Jason’s back again as they drove back to the manor. The silence was companionable until Jason pulled up, propping the bike up to let Danny get off. He took off his helmet and handed it back to Jason, not letting go immediately when Jason took it so their hands were touching.

“This was nice, I had fun,” Danny said, blushing a little and looking down.

“It was, we should do it again soon,” Jason agreed, “I’ll text you okay?”

“You’d better,” Danny teased before walking back towards the manor.

Damian opened the door for him, shooting Jason a glare before slamming it making him laugh. He was still a child no matter how much he pretended he wasn’t. Jason kicked off on his bike and zoomed off, heading home to get ready for patrol.

#dc x dp #danny phantom #jason todd #dead on main #first date #danny is pregnant #trans!danny #revenant Jason todd #frostbite #Finally getting help AU

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jd07201990 · 3 months

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I shouldn't have opened my mouth. All I had to do was just walk away, and I'd have been fine. Now, It takes 3 showers a day, and a can of Axe a week, just to control the apocalyptic funk of athlete that pours from my pits... and feet... ok, ok I just stink, ok?! And its all because I tried to stop Pops, a local Gym Owner, from bullying one of his regulars.

The massive man was absolutely raging, as he berated a Jock for skipping sessions, despite the young man explaining desperately that he couldn't miss any more assignments or he'd lose his scholarship. It didn't seem to quell Pops's anger, as I watched the man drag the boy to a bench, and force him to lift rep after rep, until the Jock was panting, begging for a break, promising not to miss any more sessions.

I'd been walking on the treadmill the whole time, and decided to get involved. My first mistake. Walking up to Pops, I cleared my throat, and told him to lay off, that clearly the Jock was exhausted. Pops grabbed my collar and hoisted me up off the ground, before I could react, his face nearly against mine as he went off, first about my nosing about, then about how ridiculously thin I am. I stammered, my legs dangling, until Pops put me down, and smirked.

"You know, a little meat on those bones wouldn't hurt. Maybe with a few pounds, those big, sweaty dawgs you've got wouldn't look so clownish!"

My jaw dropped, a squirmed under his gaze, as a shiver went down my spine, and a dull, warm itch began in my feet. I don't know where he'd gotten the idea that my feet were clownish, I'm 5'7" with size 9.5s! But suddenly, my sneakers felt cramped, warm, with a dull humid dampness making it feel as if I'd stuffed my foot into a wet towel.

Then, I groaned, as a sharp pain shot down my ankles, and my sneakers burst open, revealing wide, reeking Jock-feet, at least size 13. A dense funk rose, and I gagged, the intense reek of Athlete poured from my torn shoes. Pops laughed heartily, then sneered.

"And those pits! You'd think with hairy, sweaty pits like those, you'd be top of the roster! Not even Big Billy has pits as bad as yours! There's a bull inside you, just waiting to come out!"

Again, that cold shiver ran down my back, and my armpits felt as if fire ants were biting them. Hundreds of itchy bumps formed, then, hair sprouted, filling in and dampening until the stink of the locker room oozed out from them. I whimpered as I caught the scent. Looking up at Pops, I begged.

"Please! Don't do this! You gotta undo this! I'm not a Jock!"

Pops laughed, taking both my shoulders in his massive rough hands, and pushed me down onto a bench, taking my arms and forcing them up onto the bar. My pits were fully on display as he growled.

"Lift. Don't stop until I come back, or those pits and feet will be the least of your worries."

I believed him, and tried to pull the bar down, barely moving the weights. Pops facepalmed, moved to a backpack next to a mountainous young brute lifting what had to be the weight of a small car. He fished out a protein shake, pressed the nozzle to my lips, and forced me to guzzle a few mouthfuls, pulling it away as I heard my stomach gurgle.

I hiccuped, then burped, as my body seemed to warm, sweat forming, soaking down my shirt. Then, muscle began to swell under my skin, not huge, round bulk, but enough to look as if I'd been hitting the gym for several months, not days. When it settled, I must've gained 10 lbs, all of it hard muscle. When I pulled the bar down this time, it wasn't easy, but I wasn't lifted off the seat this time. Again and again I tested my new size, and Pops grinned. giving my thicker shoulder a punch.

"I'll make an athlete out of you yet. Like it or not, you're gonna be one of Pops's boys! No one mouth's off to pop, unless they've earned it here at my gym! got it!"

I wanted to be defiant, to insult him, or run, but the look in his eye told me if I so much as thought about leaving, I'd be waddling out of here, sideways through the door, looking like the Behemoth that Pops had taken the shake from! I gulped, looked down, and forced myself to lift. Maybe if Pops is happy, he'll at least tone down the absolute fog of stink that screams, "Big Dumb Jock" from a mile away!

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ragingbookdragon · 2 months

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Life becomes a bit simpler after her chat with Price; the others definitely notice as she’s not calling Ghost “sir” consistently, and she’s also not avoiding him like the plague. It’s almost upsetting for both Gaz and Soap, mainly because it gave them something to tease Ghost about—it was hilarious watching the way his jaw would clench when they did so. She may not be avoiding Ghost like usual, but she doesn’t go out of her way to directly engage him either. She’s calm, cool, collected when he speaks to her, even smiles at him from time to time, like she used to.

It’s her eyes that unnerves Ghost though.

She knows. And he knows she knows because his skin crawls when he recognizes the look in them. He used to hate it when he saw that. Saw it in every soldier, every superior, every civilian’s gaze when they whispered in the halls about him. But where theirs held pity, hers shine with understanding. With grace. With welcoming.

It makes his stomach churn uncomfortably and weight like lead settle in his bones.

***

Ghost has a routine when he can’t sleep. Usually wakes up at one, drinks a cup of decaffeinated tea, and goes back to sleep by three. No one else is usually awake during those hours except routine security and he trudges into the kitchen, intent to make himself a cup in his tired state, when he stops at the entrance, eyes widening when he sees her sitting there with a steaming cup of tea in front of her, and a bottle of whiskey.

She looks up at the intrusion and smiles tiredly at him. “Hiya LT. Funny meeting you here.”

“It’s one A.M.” he mutters. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Can’t sleep,” she replies, looking back at her tea.

Ghost takes a step into the kitchen, goes to the kettle when his eyes fall on the table again, and he realizes she has two cups of tea ready.

“You’re a piss poor liar,” he says under his breath, abandoning the kettle as he pulls out the chair and plops down beside her. “You makin’ hotty toddy’s?”

“Those don’t have tea in them,” she answers, but pours a decent amount of whiskey in his teacup. “But yes, I am.”

He hums, lifts the mask above his upper lip and takes a sip. “Not bad,” he cuts himself off with a cough and she purses her lips, trying not to laugh at him. “Not bad,” he wheezes, eyes watering, but he feels something light in his chest when he sees her smile.

It’s a comfortable silence they find themselves sitting in, drinking tea and staring at the board on the wall across the room in front of them. It’s Soap’s turn on dishes for the week. He’ll probably try to smooch his way out of it—he hates washing dishes. He’ll most likely ask her to switch duties with him; he’ll probably win.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you the other day.”

She blinks and looks over at him, but his eyes are still on the board, moving like he’s reading. “It’s…it’s okay, LT.”

“No,” he answers back immediately. “No, it wasn’t. And I shouldn’t have done it. I should’ve acted like an adult and instead I acted like a ten-year-old.”

A laugh passes her lips and he looks over at her curiously; she shakes her head. Price said something like that.” Her eyes meet his. “I’m sorry I’m always up your ass. I know it can be annoying.”

Ghost shrugs. “I’m used to annoying.” He catches the way her expression pinches and he corrects, “You’re not annoying, you’re just…”

“A lot?”

“Will you let me try and dig myself out of this hole, please?”

She smiles and reaches over, patting his leg. “I know what you mean. I’ll try to not be it.”

Ghost blinks and looks at her hand then back at her. “I miss it, y’know? You being…you.”

“Really?”

He nods. “It’s too quiet around the base. I realize how much your laughter makes us all feel when I don’t hear it.” He sips his tea.

She stirs the spoon in hers. “…Price told me about your family.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

He shrugs. “I figured he’d said something.” He nudges her in the side. “Gave you a talking to, didn’t he?”

“You’re one to talk,” she retorts, and he grins for a moment before he lets out a sigh.

“My old man was a drunk arsehole.”

“LT, you don’t—”

“No, I do,” he interrupts and leans back, staring at the ceiling. “He was a complete cunt. Beat me and my mum and brother. Tommy was a drug addict, started stealin’ from mum.” Something flickers in his expression. Cold. Old hatred. “I beat the shit outta my old man. Kicked him out for good. Got Tommy into rehab.” His tone eases somewhat. “Things got better. Tommy married Beth, had Joseph. Things were good.” Ghost’s eyes take on a sadness, an ache, a wound that has never seemed to really heal, just scab over. “Things were good,” he murmurs.

“And then…”

He inhales and exhales, swallows, tries to speak, until all he can say is, “I don’t like talkin’ ‘bout Mexico.”

She lays her hand on his. “You don’t have to.”

“I got vengeance for the blood that was spilled from my family.” He inhales and exhales again, closing his eyes for a moment. “…I’m claustrophobic. An’ I hate being around people. I hate bein’ in a room where I don’t know the exits. I hate gettin’ new people ‘cause I’m afraid to trust ‘em.” When she gives him a funny look from the last statement, he adds, “The people you know can hurt you the worst.”

“LT, I would never betray you.”

“Don’t ever say you won’t until you’re in a—”

“Simon, I would never betray you,” she repeats firmly, gazing at him intently. “I would rather die than betray any of the people on this team.”

He searches her gaze for some kind of lie before he turns his head back to the wall. “I’m afraid to let more people in ‘cause I’ve already lost so much of myself from it. I don’t know how much more I can take losin’.”

She goes quiet for a moment, thinks on his words, then counters, “I’d rather lose the people I care about than never know what it was like to love them in the first place.” She can see the way the man beneath Ghost aches to wish he could still be that man. “I’d rather lose you as my friend than never know what it was like to know the man beneath the mask.”

“I’m not a good man to know,” he murmurs, and she scoffs lightly.

“That’s your prerogative.”

“It’s the right one.”

She turns in her chair, her knees brushing against the outside of his thigh as she affirms, “Whether or not you think you are, you are my friend, and I am a better person for knowing you.”

“Puffin,” he mutters. “You gotta aim higher, love.”

“Or you can let me in.” She watches the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I’m not going anywhere. You can either accept that and be my friend, or you can reject it and ignore me forever, but I’ll still be here.”

Ghost‘s face pinches and he gripes, “You’re a pain in my arse, you know that, don’t you?” Her smile is bright as he sits straight again and leans against his arm, her head on his shoulder.

After a moment, she whispers, “LT, do you think…do you think in a different life we’d be better people? Happier?”

He tears his gaze from the wall to look down at her and he thinks for a moment, then nods. “Yeah, pet, I think we’d be better.” He shifts his arm, wraps it around the back of her chair and adds, “But I think you and me are doing just fine in this one.”

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lovebugism · 1 year

Note

steve + reader who’s insecure about her large thighs

TW for smut and body insecurities and a very self-indulgent fic (4.5k)

Ironically, Steve’s favorite part of you was the one you kept most hidden.

He hates when you wear sweatpants to bed. You always tell him you’re cold, even though you’re not really cold — you just don’t know how to tell him the sight of your thighs makes you feel icky sometimes.

He always tells you that you don’t need them. He’ll always joke that he can warm you up the ‘old-fashioned way’ if you get cold during that night, that it’s ‘his speciality.’

You’re never swayed.

He hates it the most when you won’t let him touch you.

On the rare occasion you wear lounge shorts to, well, lounge in, Steve turns ravenous. He all but gravitates towards you, like he might die if he’s more than a couple feet away from you.

And you — you’ve got no earthly idea what you do to him. You’re curled up on the couch, reading some too big novel, and so effortlessly perfect in your way. Steve can’t help but slink in behind you, press wet kisses to your neck and shoulder, and melt wholeheartedly into you with two wide hands on your warm skin.

His palms inevitably find purchase on your exposed thighs. It’s like magnets, almost. He can’t help but touch you there, like he was made to do it.

You like when he gets like that most of the time. You giggle, all innocent, and complain like you hate it. “I’m trying to read, Stevie. Stop tickling me,” you gripe through a lighthearted laugh as his scruff brushes the base of your neck.

You don’t try to stop him, though. Both of you know you secretly like how badly he seems to need you.

His smile curls against your shoulder.

“I’m not tickling you,” he teases, knowingly. “I’m loving on you.”

You roll your eyes and try to concentrate on your book again. It’s harder than it was before, you find, with Steve’s all-consuming touch making you buzz in his hold. The book was just starting to get good before he interrupted you. Now you can barely remember the title of the damn thing.

“Well, you should try and find better opportunities for these situations, Stevie,” you quip.

He smacks a final, wetter kiss to the junction of your neck. Then he nods, mostly to himself since you’re not looking at him to see it — too busy pretending to read your book. His fingers twitch on your thigh before rising to toy with the hems of your bottoms.

“Hmm. Maybe you’re right,” he hums and drags his fingers to the waistline of your shorts. He dips his fingers just below them. From where he’s tucked along your back, he can feel your breath hitch. You tense and deflate, forcing yourself to relax before he can notice how rigid you’ve gone.

But Steve notices.

He always notices.

There’s nothing about you that Steve isn’t already acutely aware of.

With his free hand — the one not settled just below your stomach under your shorts, but the one still rubbing along your arm — he feels goosebumps erupt on your skin as you bite back a shiver.

His fingers dip lower, lower, lower. They graze the manicured hair of your pubic bone — the coarse hair there contrasts sharply against the softness of your slick lips. And Steve just holds you there, cups your pussy with a touch so full of filth and adoration. A nearly lethal concoction only he can muster.

You’ve long abandoned your book. The thing is close to falling out of your hands now. The paperback slips further and further from your fingertips the more lax you get. Steve can feel you getting heavier as you relax against him. You’ve borderline stopped breathing, awaiting the cruel anticipation of his touch.

It makes the boy laugh. The heavy exhale fans against your jaw.

“So, you’re saying now’s a bad time, then?” he taunts, nose nudging the shell of your ear.

“Yeah…” you sigh. “I wanna… wanna finish my book… You’re bothering me.”

“Oh, I’m bothering you?” he smiles, knowing.

You nod, but it’s a tad bit sloppy with how drunk you’ve gone.

Steve slots a finger between your lips and hums to himself at how wet you are. He’s always amazed by how soft your pussy is, made exactly of silk and velvet.

“Then why are you so wet for me?”

You don’t answer, just whine and melt further into him.

Steve is all too happy to let you, even though the position is a tad bit awkward. He’s got one foot planted on the floor while the other steadily falls numb from where it’s curled underneath him. He’s not moving until you come, though.

With you still slouched in his lap, he slithers his free hand beneath your thigh to open you wider for him. And you — sweet and pliable you — let him do it all without protest. You’ve got one foot beside his on the carpet and the other bent up towards the back of the couch. Perfectly spread open.

It’s not like you need the assistance or anything, though. With how wet you are just now, he’s bound to slide in without trouble.

“There you go,” Steve murmurs in your ear when you laze wholly against him. “Always so good for me. Even when you don’t wanna be, right?”

He makes you come like that once, with his fingers that you gush all over. That orgasm doesn’t have shit on the one he gives you right after. You’re always a sucker for a man on his knees for you, but Steve’s quite literally the master of eating pussy. So when his mouth locks on your clit and his hands grip your thighs to keep you pressed against him, you’re coming in record time.

It’s more than the experience, though, and Steve knows it.

Sure, he’s been with enough girls to know what parts of them are the most sensitive, but it’s because he knows you so damn well that he can get you to explode the way you do. He knows everything you like, everything you don’t like — what you always want more of before you can beg for it and what you hate before you can tell him you hate it.

Steve Harrington can read you like a fucking book. He swears no one has ever understood a person the way he understands you.

So he knows exactly when you get in these moods, all reserved and a little upset for no tangible reason, where you absolutely refuse to let him touch you.

Steve might be able to understand it better if you just didn’t want to have sex, but most of the time all he wants to do is love on you and you act like it’s some abominable crime. He’ll keep his hands to himself because he’ll never do anything you don’t want, but his heart breaks every damn time he can’t hold you.

He knows it’s coming when Eddie invites you out for drinks.

You’re in a great mood at the start of the day. You spend all afternoon giddy at the chance to see Eddie for the first time in ages — getting drunk with him, more than anything. But getting ready to leave is objectively less fun, and you always forget about that until your hair won’t cooperate and your makeup doesn’t look how you want it to.

Steve hears you grumble at yourself in the mirror. The disgruntled sound is muffled through the shut bathroom door. He aches to make you feel better, but he learned a long time ago to leave you alone.

You come out sometime later, dolled up and beautiful and slightly annoyed.

The boy whistles lowly at your appearance, then says, “You look hot, babe. Seriously. You could be a pornstar — easy.”

He says it to make you laugh. His chest burns when you don’t.

You lock yourself in the bathroom with different outfits stacked in your arms. Steve tries to count how many, but you slam the door shut before he can get past three.

Hidden away in the washroom, the small space simmering with the heavy humidity of anxiety and irritation, you try on five — five — different outfits. A sexy red dress first and then an even sexier, tighter black one. You almost chose the latter until you stared too long in the mirror and hated how it looked on you.

You try on a pair of leather shorts and two more skirts after. One’s an alluring sparkly mesh number, the other a too expensive frilly thing with a slit up to your hip that Steve had gotten you a couple of anniversaries ago.

You curse yourself for even trying to look nice. It’s the same gut-wrenching cycle every time — liking the outfit you’ve put together, then hating the body inside of it. It’s your thighs that nag you most of the time. You think they’re too big, too round. They don’t look good in anything other than baggy sweatpants.

You try to look pretty and just end up hurting your own feelings.

When you storm out of the bathroom again, you do it blinking back burning tears full of anger.

“Are you ready?” Steve wonders absentmindedly before he’s even looked at the steaming ball of rage you are. He tears his gaze from the television and finds you half-naked, clad in nothing but a pretty lace bra and matching underwear — lingerie that you’d chosen for him.

You were going to surprise him with it when you got back from the bar, buzzed and giddy with it. You would’ve played coy, and he would’ve gone absolutely wild for you… You don’t feel very much like something to go wild for now.

“Does it look like I’m ready?” you grumble in response before you realize how bitter it sounds.

Steve isn’t deterred by your annoyance. He knows it’s not at him.

“For the Hideout?” he quips. “Totally. In fact, I’d say you’re a little overdressed.”

You toss the wad of clothes in your arms into your shared closet. You don’t seem to mind the heaping pile it leaves on the floor, even though you usually hate when it gets messy. “I don’t think I wanna go anymore.”

Steve nearly deflates. He was looking forward to going out. Going out, with you.

His legs swing over the edge of the mattress as he looks over at you with a puppy-like pout. “Why? You were so excited to go earlier, remember? You were talking about finally getting to see Eddie again—”

“We can go another time,” you interject before he can remind you of how happy you were. You start rifling through your drawers for pajamas because you’ve already given up on having a good time.

Steve doesn’t miss how your voice cracks halfway through. Or the way you go for an oversized t-shirt and those goddamn pair of gray sweatpants you use like a shield. A weapon.

His chest aches with all the love he holds for you there. It tightens with anguish at how dejected you’ve gotten — mourning a night out before it could happen because you hate the way you look.

He’s at a loss at how to prove how beautiful you are. He can only tell you that you’re perfect so many times before it loses meaning.

“C’mere, babe,” he commands in a soft coo.

Still not looking at him, you start to ramble: “You can go if you want, okay? I just really don’t feel like it anymore, and I know I won’t have a good time, and I don’t want to weigh you down, so… You can just— You can go without me—”

Your voice is fragile, like cracking glass. You’re obviously overwhelmed.

“I’m not going without you,” Steve dismisses the thought almost immediately. “I won’t have a good time if you’re not there. I’d rather be with you here than without you somewhere else.”

You turn to him, pajamas balled up at your stomach. “You don’t have to say that, okay? You don’t have to pretend so you won’t hurt my feelings.”

“Can you just— Can you come here?” he bites, less than patiently. He follows that up with a kinder, “Please?”

You huff about it but oblige him anyway. You walk to his side of the bed, practically stomping like an angry child, until you’re in front of him. Steve reaches for your hands to pull you closer when you stop short. He entwines his larger fingers with your own. He raises his chin to meet your frown with a soft grin.

“You know you look pretty in everything, right?”

You groan and try to yank out of his grip. He only holds you tighter.

“You do. I swear. I have to try not to pop a boner every time I see you.”

“Shut up…” you grumble.

“I’m serious!” he chuckles. His laughter feels like sunshine to your storm cloud. “I’m literally doing it right now!”

Steve smirks when your eyes flit down to his lap. His slacks conceal too much for you to call his bluff, but there wouldn’t be a point in it, anyway. He’s been half-hard since he saw you in your underwear. It’s the hardest thing he’s ever done, trying not to act like a totally ravenous teenage boy whenever you’re around.

He sees a look of disbelief flash across your face. You squint at him, then scrunch your nose. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs with a nod. “I literally have to talk myself down, or else I’ll jump all over you.”

“You do that anyway,” you argue.

“Then imagine that times a hundred. That’s what I wanna do to you all the time,” he confesses with a twinkle in his honey eyes and a smile on his pink lips. “I just need you, you know? Like, all the fucking time. I feel a little empty when I’m not holding you. It kinda hurts now…”

You purse your lips to the side. It’s obvious you want to say something.

His gaze goes wide and hopeful. “Can I touch you more?”

You nod wordlessly.

Steve doesn’t waste a second. His hands ease their grip and dart to your thighs. They settle along the backs of them to urge you closer. Now, eye-level with your waist, he realizes that your under is see-through. The sight of your pussy makes him gulp — like, audibly gulp. The cartoonish sound makes you laugh.

Even though he’s a little embarrassed at himself, he’s glad you take amusement in it. He decides then that he’d probably lie in a busy street if he thought it might make you happy.

“See? I’m so far gone for you, it’s not even funny.”

You feel a bit like glass as you stand in front of him, fragile and completely see-through.

Steve always knows exactly what you’re feeling, what you’re thinking. The thought is as comforting as it is overwhelming — to know that you’ll never have to go through the bad shit alone because he can hear all of your icky thoughts before you say them out loud.

Your eyes go heavy under the weight of your unshed tears. A delicate sigh rattles your chest.

“I just… I don’t really… like the way I look sometimes… you know?” you admit for the first time out loud. The words come out slow and a little bit choppy, like they’re hard for you to say.

“I know,” Steve coos with an understanding nod. “I know…”

His hands squeeze the skin of your thighs in reassurance because he isn’t totally sure of what to say. He doesn’t want to denounce all the big feelings you’re feeling, but it’s pretty damn hard to nurture them when he’s looking at the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

“But that’s… that’s all in your head. Your brain is just being a little mean to you, you know? ‘Cause you’re… I mean, you’re— you—” he stammers when he realizes that there isn’t a word in the dictionary that could encapsulate all the beauty you are. “I mean, you’re perfect. And that— that doesn’t even start to describe it. Maybe if I was a little smarter, I could, but… I guess that’s what I get for not going to college. Can’t tell my girlfriend how pretty she is…”

Steve musters a lopsided grin. You try to smile back at him.

“I know it’s not… That it’s not real, but… It feels real, you know? Like, I look in the mirror, and I… I just— I hate it, sometimes. I hate it…”

Steve swallows through a tightening throat. He feels like you’re talking about him. In some ways, you are. That’s his body you’re talking about — his thighs, his tummy, his everything about you that he loves so damn much.

“Well, you know what?” the boy wonders with a smile because both of you can’t be sad right now. “I’m gonna love so damn much, you’re gonna be overflowin’ with it, alright? And you’re gonna be so full of it, you’re not gonna have a choice be to love yourself. Then you’ll see everything I’m seeing ‘cause… damn…”

You’re warmed by his words — by the sheer weight of them. They feel like honey or a warm blanket, sticky and heavy and all consuming. Despite your swelling heart, you roll your eyes at the boy in front of you who’s looking at you like he’s never seen a naked woman before — like he hasn’t seen you naked a million times.

Steve always looks at you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you — like he has to memorize all of your features just in case he never gets to see you again.

“You don’t have to,” you remind him, hopeful and a little forlorn. To love me, you almost say. You don’t because you don’t have to. “But you do, so… Thank you.”

“Oh, trust me, baby, the pleasure is all mine,” he scoffs, a tad bit overwhelmed with all the love he’s got for you. He ushers you closer, closer, closer until you’re forced to settle in his lap.

You do so without protest.

His touches feel less painful now — less like knives, and more like ice cream and summer rain and old love songs. Love personified.

His smile is crooked, his eyes are wide, and his brows are raised to his hairline. He looks boyish, full of lust and tenderness and hope. And looks at you with all of it. You’re still not sure how deserving you are of it.

“‘Cause… look at you. You’re a fucking— you’re a smoke show, honey.”

“You really have a way with words, don’t ya, Stevie?” you laugh. You try to trap your smile between your teeth, but it does little to conceal your beaming.

Now, higher of spirits, you settle further into Steve’s touch. Your arms wrap loosely around his neck while you make yourself comfortable in his lap. It’s all perfectly pleasant and familiar, but you can’t miss the boner in his slacks. The raging hard-on is tucked into his right pant leg and brushing along your inner thigh.

“Huh… You weren’t kidding about that boner, were you?”

“No, I was not.”

Your eyes go from taunting to mischievous in a flash, no longer the melancholy girl you had been just minutes before. How can you be, when you’ve got this beautiful boy below you? When this beautiful boy thinks you’re so damn pretty that the sight of you’s got him hard?

“Want me to take care of it for you?”

Steve wants so badly to say yes. He stopped being so selfish somewhere between getting called bullshit at a Halloween party and finding a girl dressed as an angel puking in the bushes some twenty minutes later. He offered to give this angel — you — a ride home and hasn’t stopped thinking about her since.

“No. You don’t have to, babe,” he declines softly with warm, wide hands rubbing up and down the expanse of your outer thighs. “Not if you don’t feel up to it.”

“Well, what if I do feel up to it?” you argue and weave your hand in his hair. Your fingers dance through the chestnut locks as you slowly bring his face closer to yours. “What if I want you to fuck me stupid and make me forget why I was upset in the first place?”

His brain stopped functioning at “fuck me stupid.” His honey eyes glaze over and his pink mouth falls softly agape. He’s nodding at you before he realizes he’s doing it. “Then... I think… Yeah, we could… We could arrange that.”

You grin at him, playful like you’ve got some sort of trick up your sleeve. You slip off his lap and flop onto the mattress on your stomach. With your arms folded under your cheeks, you turn to look at the boy from over your shoulder. “How do you want me, Stevie?”

He rises slowly, unable to take his eyes off of you — or the gleam in your eye that you look at him with, or the sheer pair of underwear that practically shouts his name.

Rather brazenly, he begins to palm himself through his slacks, working himself even harder for you.

“Like that,” he murmurs. You wiggle your ass for him and laugh when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I want you… just like that.”

He wrenches his hands underneath your thighs to tug you to the edge of the bed. Your giggle is entwined with a giddy squeal — the heavenly sound fills the quiet of the bedroom and bleeds into a soft moan when he drops to his knees and licks a fat stripe over your clothed pussy.

Steve eats you out from behind like a professional. Maybe because he is one, in some ways. He’s an expert in your body. He knows exactly what makes you tick like a time bomb until you ultimately explode.

He starts by teasing you. He mouths at your folds through underwear and doesn’t stop until your panties are sopping and you’re begging him to fuck you. He doesn’t oblige you, not yet anyway — “let me taste you first, baby,” he murmurs as he slides the sheer fabric to the side. He works you open with his tongue next. You’re so wound up, you come all over his mouth without warning.

You’re a writhing mess upon an unmade bed, forced to suffer through every wave of your overwhelming orgasm. Steve tries to aid you through the comedown. He presses soft kisses to your trembling thighs, leaving the occasional love bite on your warm skin and licking over the soft indents of his teeth on the plushest part of your ass.

The high barely has time to pass before he slips his cock into you.

He likes you most that way — when you’re fatigued but still buzzing. It makes you more pliant that way, needier and louder for him. You don’t say anything coherent, though, just babbles of pleas entwined with his name.

Steve nearly squishes you under his weight as he fucks you into the mattress. With his back pressed over your back, the proximity of your bodies forces his cock to hit the deepest part of you, over and over and over again. The smack of your thighs and his heavy balls against your pussy and his wet kisses on your neck is a lewd sort of heavenly — a beautiful kind of sinful.

His touches are fleeting. His hands can’t seem to stay in one place for very long because he wants to touch you everywhere. He grips your hips with enough force to leave bruises there, swats your ass to hear you whine, and lets you suck on his fingers when you beg for them.

He settles, finally, on your swollen clit. He rubs you there until he feels your pulsating pussy clench around him and doesn’t stop until you’re gushing and pushing his hand away.

You’re fucked successfully stupid and totally lax beneath him when Steve’s hips stutter against your ass. He mumbles high-pitched and mindless praises in your ear as his orgasm creeps up his spine.

“So pretty for me, baby. Fuck— you’re so damn pretty like this. Pussy’s so good, too…” he murmurs just before a whine crawls up and out of his throat. He tucks his head between your neck and shoulder and whispers his sinful babbles there. “It’s so good, baby. You feel so fucking good— god, I can’t fucking… Holy shit, I love you, baby. Love you so goddamn much. Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

He fills you up barely a moment later.

Steve stuffs you full of his come, kisses you until your senses return to you, then rushes to the bathroom for a washcloth to clean the both of you up with. He parts from you after, still naked, to chuck the dirty rag into the hamper.

“Do you want me to call Eddie and tell him we can’t make it? I can ask if he’s gonna be in town tomorrow or something so we can…” the boy trails off when he rounds his side of the bed and finds you sleeping.

Steve phones Eddie and tells him that you aren’t feeling well, that you’re sleeping now, and that you’ll call him in the morning when you’re feeling better. Eddie’s a total grouch about it because he thinks it’s Steve’s fault you’re not coming to his show.

He’ll gladly take the blame. He’s all too happy to crawl into bed beside you and clutch you like a teddy bear as he drifts off to sleep with you.

You wake the next morning, a little sore, a little embarrassed, and so so full of love.

You peck a sleeping Steve on his slack mouth before shuffling off to the bathroom. It’s hard to miss your blowsy appearance in the mirror. Your makeup is smeared, your hair tousled, and lacy underwear still on. Your skin is in worse shape — covered in varying shades of red and purple bruises.

Your thighs and ass are littered with lovebites. Some are already fading, others are bound to stick around for another day or more. If you look real close, you can still see some of the bite marks from when Steve got particularly excited.

Covered in bits of him, remnants of his fingertips and mouth from where he’d love on you so ardently — you feel pretty.

“I’m gonna love so damn much you’re gonna be overflowin’ with it, alright?” he’d told you some hours earlier. “And you’re gonna be so full of it, you’re not gonna have a choice be to love yourself.”

You’d wanted to laugh about it then, but now it makes you want to cry — not of sadness exactly, but not quite of happiness either. It’s some foreign feeling in between that has you sick to your stomach and sparkling with contentment all at once.

You love how much Steve loves you.

And, one day, maybe sooner than you realize, you’ll start to love yourself the same way.

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