#this game is dragging me out of my art slump

[maikamaika-art]

Kim Please Be My Friend: The Game

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #harry du bois #this game is dragging me out of my art slump #(yes I know the game is a lot more than that and that the story is super complex etc... etc... I just think this dude is neat)

[spaceshipellie]

sitting pretty

gamer!ellie x reader

summary: you’re desperate for ellie to touch you but she’s too busy playing video games, so you compromise.

warnings: dom!ellie, sub!reader, use of strap (r receiving), reader’s wearing a skirt, strap/cockwarming, thigh riding, consensual videoing, 18+ MDNI

author’s note: so my lovely @lonelyfooryouonly made this SCRUMPTIOUSLY FERAL PIECE OF ART of ellie!! ellie in a hoodie and beanie makes me wanna do unhinged things so ofc i had to write something inspired by it.. thanks loony babe 🌷💋

˚ · • . ° .

you were lying on your bed in the apartment you shared with your girlfriend, scrolling aimlessly on your phone. your thumb flicking between the same three apps, barely paying attention to anything you were actually doing.

that familiar feeling was happening between your legs and you squeezed your thighs together, desperate for some release. what you really needed was your girlfriend but she was busy playing video games in the other room when she should be busy with you.

you reached your hand down and applied some pressure on your underwear, a tiny whimper escaping your lips. you rubbed a few slow circles before giving up. your fingers just weren’t the same. swinging your legs off the bed, you shuffled over to the door of the room where she was. it was open slightly and you could see her sat slumped in the massive chair, hands resting on her lower stomach with the controller. her knees were parted, one leg bouncing as she concentrated on the screen. the sight of her alone made you wanna come.

you snuck through the door, hoping she’d turn and look at you but she didn’t. she just kept playing as if she didn’t even know you were there.

you watched, almost falling into a trance, as her skilled fingers repeatedly pressed buttons and swivelled the joystick. you went up behind her chair and put your hands on her shoulders, resting your chin on top of her beanie.

“you okay, babe?” she deadpanned.

“ellie,” you dragged her name out a bit.

“what?”

“can you stop playing for a bit please?”

“why?”

you rolled your eyes.

“i miss you.”

“i’m right here.”

“no, i mean…” surely she knew what you meant. either she was playing dumb or she just was dumb. either way, you weren’t giving up. you squeezed her shoulders harder.

“i mean i miss you.”

she paused her game and span the chair around so she was facing you. her fingers reached out to lazily play with the hem of your pleated skirt before she dropped her hand to her thigh.

“oh yeah?”

you nodded.

“well what do you want?”

you shifted on your feet. “you.”

she chuckled to herself. “so cute. but i’m busy here, babe. can’t it wait?”

you groaned a little in annoyance.

“don’t pout.”

“i’m not pouting.”

“are you that desperate?”

you let out a frustrated, “yes.”

she smiled wickedly as she started to spin her chair back around to the screen.

“ellie, please.” you grabbed the top of the chair preventing her from turning it any further.

“tell me what you want then maybe i’ll do it.”

you huffed at the way she was making you work for it.

“can i sit in your lap? then you can still play.”

“is that all?” she saw right through you.

“fine. please can i sit on your strap?” you almost whispered, feeling embarrassed to ask but god, you wanted it so badly.

she laughed tauntingly again and flicked her eyes at the door.

“go get it then.”

you scampered off back to the bedroom, grabbing the pink strap. you took a second whilst your brain span wildly as you looked at the veins and ridges on it.

she watched as you eagerly bounced back into the room. she was very nonchalant as she held her hand out for it and put it on with ease. unzipping her jeans enough to be able to shove her hand around to get it on before resuming her slouched position in the chair. you moved forward towards her, your thighs bumping the side of hers. you suddenly felt a bit intimidated about taking the size of it. she looked up at you.

“need some help first?” her words might have been sweet but her tone was anything but. it was sadistic and mocking.

“yes.” your leg nudged hers.

with her hand closest to you, she reached under your skirt and pushed your underwear to the side, running a finger through your folds, teasingly letting it linger on your clit before pulling it away. the simple touch was enough to make you flinch and she snickered at how easy it was for her to make you like this. completely at her mercy.

she then pulled your underwear down and you kicked them off when they fell to your feet. she patted her thigh and waited for you to straddle it, whimpering as your clit came into contact with the rough material of her black jeans.

“happy?”

you nodded and she squeezed your thigh before directing her attention back to her game, both hands now on the controller and eyes glued to the screen, leaving you to fend for yourself.

you rocked your hips against her, revelling in the friction that was happening. ellie completely ignored you. it partly frustrated you but also turned you on to an impossible level. you knew you were probably in for a long night when she was like this and the thought made your insides twist.

you kept grinding on her, your hands stabilising yourself on her thigh in front of you, a couple fingers loosely gripping her hoodie. you kept eyeing the strap, desperately trying to get yourself to a point where you felt ready to take it. ellie didn’t seem to care how long it took you, she was fine occupying herself with the video game whilst you used her to get off. her eyes didn’t even glance over.

the sensation in your cunt suddenly heightened as you felt yourself about to come. your hand gripped her shoulder through her soft, thick hoodie. you sped up your pace ever so slightly as you felt the knot in your stomach unravel. your eyelids already felt heavy and your brain foggy so it made you jump slightly when you felt her hand glide up the outside of your thigh, dipping under your skirt. you looked at her but she was still looking at the screen. you buried your head in her shoulder.

“you done?” she said, her fingers brushing your skin. the first semi-attentive thing she’d done so far. you nodded your head against her shoulder. she tapped your thigh and you climbed off. putting her hand on the back of your thigh she encouraged you to straddle her lap.

you held onto her shoulders as you hovered above the strap which she held steady for you, the tip brushing against your clit before you tried to sink down on it. you moaned as you got past the tip. ellie watched your face intensely as you slowly lowered yourself, feeling the entire length fill you up and stretch you. you gasped at the sting mixed with pleasure and adjusted your hips to get comfortable. ellie’s hand rested on your thigh that was squashed against her own in the gaming chair.

“feeling better?” her head cocked sideways slightly as she looked at you.

“yes,” you mumbled, leaning your head back on her shoulder.

she adjusted in her seat slightly so she could see the screen clearly (and so she could fuck with you) and the slight movement from her hips caused you to clench. her arms wrapped around your waist as she resumed playing the game. she might have been acting to you like she didn’t care but she was loving this. her girl clinging to her because you’re just that needy.

she played for what felt like ages to you. occasionally you would wiggle or lift your hips slightly, whimpering at the warm feeling it caused deep inside. you couldn’t see but every time those pretty little noises left your mouth, ellie smirked to herself. the feeling of your body against her chest whilst you warmed her strap gave her the biggest ego boost.

thinking that you had been doing this long enough you started to pepper tiny kisses on her neck, moaning about how she was taking so long. she ignored you for a bit before you decided to gently graze your teeth on her skin to get her attention. she paused the game and turned her head to look at you.

“getting impatient?”

you nodded.

“i thought you wanted this,” she teased.

“i do but i need more, ellie, it’s been ages,” you said softly.

she lifted up your skirt to look at where you were wrapped around her, admiring the shine from the juices that had dripped down all over the base. she laughed.

“so fucking messy.”

she reached an arm around you to grab her phone from the desk and rolled the chair over a little to where there was a mirror leaning against the wall.

“look at yourself,” she instructed and with your back to the mirror, you turned your head over your shoulder to look at yourself in her lap. she gripped your ass, pushing the skirt up a little and used her hold to move you up and down a couple times slowly. you let out a strangled moan at the feeling and the sight of your pussy sliding up and down from behind. she gave your ass a little slap before setting you down again.

“you okay if i video it, baby?”

you nodded eagerly. she got her phone out and recorded the mirrors imagine of you slowly riding her dick. her other hand pushed the skirt up again so that she could get a clear view.

“fuck,” she breathed as she stopped recording and put her phone down. “look at you, so eager to please.”

you kept rolling your hips pathetically as she rested her arms on the arms of the chair, looking up at your face. she watched how your eyes pleaded with her to do more. to touch you. have her way with you. but she wanted to drag this out.

“please touch me,” you whined.

“no, do this yourself,” she smiled devilishly at you, “make yourself come on my cock.”

you groaned as your fingers dug deeper into her shoulders and you continued rolling your hips, your clit brushing up against the fabric of her hoodie. you started sloppily bouncing, your legs feeling too shaky to hold yourself up. the wet, sticky sounds that came from it were loud and humiliating.

“ellie, i can’t.”

“yes, you can.”

you pushed yourself through until you were coming undone around her. white, creamy cum dribbled out of you and down the strap onto her jeans. she finally put her hands on you for a second when she lifted the skirt up to look at the aftermath. she swiped a bit of your cum from her jeans and sucked it off her finger whilst holding eye contact with you.

“go and wait on the bed for me.”

#felt feral soooo part two eventually? 🩷 #ellie williams oneshot #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie smut #ellie williams #ellie williams edit #ellie williams fanart #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou #tlou 2

[writerscall]

i don’t have any specifics but i’d love to see you do a jealous hazel :>

author’s note/s: 873 words. this embarrassingly took me a while to finish but in my defense, i’ve been in a real slump for writing. but this definitely got the momentum back a bit! enjoy hazel not exactly enjoying when someone thinks you’re pretty the same way she thinks you’re pretty.

In spite of the collective fear that the fight club might disband after the game, either by school orders or with all of you growing apart with more and more schoolmates wanting to be friends, it stayed intact. Surprisingly no new recruits, but that was probably why the bond of the club was stronger than ever. You were all there from day one and you all knew everyone still wanted to be there, even if getting punched in the jaw or kicked in the shin still hurt like a bitch.

It meant continuing to have Hazel as an everyday fixture in your life, though, and you weren’t going to complain about that. Or about any of the new friendships you’ve created, of course — especially Stella-Rebecca, whose realization and acceptance that she’s actually a lesbian was a very entertaining sight to see.

“I feel no different, but I also feel like I should be doing something to be more out, you know?” She asks you one day as you’re washing your faces in the locker room after practice. “Like, maybe not go around wearing a t-shirt that says ‘lesbian,’ or ‘i love girls’ or something, but like… should I go shop for a cute flannel later?”

There’s a chorus of no, don’t do that among the burst of laughter, and you hope the look you’re giving her looks more sympathetic than amused. “Lesbians come in all kinds of outfits, Stella-Rebecca. Don’t worry about it.”

“Or, you know, in no outfit at all, I won’t mind,” PJ quips with a shit-eating grin. Josie audibly groans and promptly drags her out of the locker room.

“A top that says ‘i love girls’ would be pretty cute, though. I’d wear one,” you tell her. Hazel comes into view at that same moment, smiling at you knowingly through the reflection in the mirror. Your heart flutters as you smile back. It was no secret that you and Hazel have been participating in a will-they-won’t-they dance for a while now. Everyone — or at least everyone in the fight club — knew about it.

Which was why you found Stella-Rebecca’s next words so surprising.

“Maybe we can go look for one together. I think you’d look real cute in one, too.” She winks at you as she squeezes your shoulder, then says her goodbyes as she sashays away. Huh. You can’t help but smile to yourself in amusement, though it’s immediately wiped off when you notice Hazel staring (rather, glaring) after Stella-Rebecca’s retreating figure.

You turn away from the mirror, saying, “Oh, come on, don’t be like that.”

“You know she’s flirting with you, right?” Hazel grumbles. “While I’m right here. Literally just right here, and then she still goes and does all that. She knows!”

“It’s not… she probably didn’t even mean it like that. Stella-Rebecca’s just very touchy and sweet—”

“I think I’m sweet to my friends too but I don’t go after people who are obviously accounted for.”

Okay, this was serious to her. Not that you had any intention of shrugging it off and letting Stella-Rebecca continue to flirt with you, if she would; you just didn’t think Hazel would take it so personally. She’s known the girl longer than you have and has definitely seen her flirt with other people before to know the difference between her being playful and actually being into it.

Then again, until recently, Stella-Rebecca was only coming on to boys.

You walk towards her, fighting the growing smile on your face as you take her own in your hands. “Your pout is really cute but there’s no need for it. I could go out with Stella-Rebecca after school every day of this week, even spend the whole weekend with her, and I’d still be ‘accounted for.’” Your nose wrinkles a bit at the last part. Hazel could either say the most random things or be strangely articulate.

She sighs, head tilting to the right in your hold. “Am I a horrible person for not liking the idea of you spending so much time with each other? I know you’re friends, we all are, but… I don’t know…”

“No,” you breathe out, rubbing your right thumb across her slightly smushed cheek. “It’s a hypothetical situation, anyway. The most she’ll get of me is one day because we’ve got a bunch of after school dates lined up, remember? We’ve got all those Lego plants to build.”

“The new additions to my botanical collection,” Hazel says, her mood noticeably picking back up. You give her face a gentle squeeze before wrapping your arms around her shoulders instead. Her arms wrap around your waist not a second later. “Yeah, the succulents came in yesterday. I think you’ll really like them.”

You smile at her. “You know I will.”

The feeling of her relaxing in your arms makes you relax too, although she’s still got that look on her face. Well, a different one now; like she was battling between saying something or shoving it down.

“What—”

“You and Stella-Rebecca can get matching ‘i like girls’ shirts, but only if we get matching ‘girlfriends’ ones.”

Oh. Not in a bad way, but still… oh.

There’s a part of you that’s thinking, already? but you’re a little too giddy about her clarifying what she wants — and it being exactly what you want too — to do anything but nod and beam at her. “Whatever you want, Hazel.”

#hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan fanfic #requests

[hbyrde36]

Chapter 2: Into My Heart

Written for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang

Art below and here by @glitterfang

Beta'd by @penny00dreadful

Rating: E | WC: 4371 | Chapters: 2/2 | AO3 Link

CW: Smut

Eddie tucked the bottle of whiskey, concealed in its nondescript brown paper bag, under his arm—freeing his hands to unlock the apartment door. Wine just wasn’t going to cut it tonight, he’d decided on his way home. Disappointment to this degree called for something stronger, and as luck would have it the liquor store was a convenient stop on his way.

“Honey! I'm home!” He called out, kicking the door closed behind him hard enough to shake the walls.

Chrissy startled, jumping about a foot in the air from her seat on the sofa. “Do you have to do that every time?”

He grinned, tossing his keys on the little table they kept by the door. 

She flipped him off.

Their apartment was small, its entrance, living room, and kitchen all essentially one big room, and he could feel her eyes tracking his every movement as he crossed the space. Wordlessly he took a rocks glass out of the cabinet and sloshed about a shot and a half's worth of amber liquid into it from his newly acquired bottle, and downed it all in one go. 

Could he have just used a shot glass? Probably. But this way was classier, and he liked the feel of the heavy bottomed cup in his hand. He’d drink the second one a little slower, maybe even add some ice.

“Well, that’s not a good sign. Hard session?” Chrissy asked.

Hard.

A manic laugh bubbled up from his throat as he thought back to the beginning of his appointment with Steve. “You could say that.”

“That’s… concerning.” She mumbled, upending her wine glass to catch the final drops before setting it down on the table. “Might as well just bring yourself and that bottle over here. Come sit, tell me all about it.”

Eddie was too keyed up to sit. He paced back and forth in front of the couch as he went through the whole thing detail by detail. He wasn’t sure what the ethics were of recounting the entire interaction for her, particularly the sensitive bits—about Steve's sensitive bits, but he supposed there was no such thing as tattooist/client confidentiality.

“Maybe she’s just like, a really close friend?” Chrissy said when he was done.

“No, Chris. I'm telling you, he basically called her his soulmate. You should have seen the way he glowed when he talked about her. It was like his whole stupidly-fucking-pretty face lit up from the inside.”

Chrissy groaned, taking a swig directly from his bottle, like a heathen, and slumped down in her seat.

“I want thaaaaat.” She whined.

Eddie plopped down hard next to her, heaving a sigh. “Don’t we all.”

In an attempt to put it all out of his mind and enjoy what was left of his Friday night in peace–-without being plagued by thoughts of cute little moles and dazzling hazel eyes, Eddie changed into comfy clothes, queued up the next episode in their Drag Race rewatch, and cuddled up next to Chrissy. Unfortunately, as hard as he tried to concentrate on the queens and the drama unfolding on the screen in front of him, he couldn't stop thinking about Steve. Not even the Snatch Game could hold his attention. 

Apologies to you Jinkx Monsoon, Eddie mused regretfully. It’s not you, it’s me. You were wonderful.

After much hemming and hawing, and one too many woe-is-me sighs from his side of the couch, Chrissy yanked the remote out of his hand and hit pause.

Rude.

“Did you have something you needed to say, princess?”

Eddie grumbled. “I just wish I didn't have to see him again.”

“That’s dramatic.”

“What if you did it for me?”

“What? The tattoo?!”

“Come on, I'll owe you one—a big one. Just, I dunno, we'll let Steve show up for his appointment and then you’ll tell him I’ve got, like, food poisoning or whatever, and didn’t want to have to cancel on him at the last minute, so you’re going to finish up his color. I’ll show you the sketches—It’ll be great.  It's more your style than mine anyway.”

Chrissy raised both eyebrows, crossing her arms over her chest. “Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out, Munson.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on.” Eddie slid down to the floor, falling to his knees in front of her and lifting his hands in prayer. “Please?”

“No! This is ridiculous, Eddie! I can’t believe you’re even considering… What's the big deal anyway? So you thought he was cute, you both flirted a little, so what? Now you can’t even face the guy?”

She narrowed her eyes, staring down at his, admittedly, pathetic display. “You didn't do something embarrassing did you? Is there more to this story than you're telling me?”

“No.” Eddie reared back, giving up his wide-eyed begging which was clearly not working on her—damn lesbians and their immunity to his boyish charms—and pulled himself back up into his seat. 

She hummed suspiciously.

“You don’t understand. He’s like, perfect.”

“Aww,” She cooed, wrapping him up in a one-armed hug. “You really have it bad for him don’t you?”

Eddie leaned into her, pouting. He couldn’t even argue. 

She flicked his bottom lip. He flinched away. 

“Ow!”

“No pouting!” 

She huffed a laugh, but when he didn’t crack her mouth turned down into a sympathetic frown. “Are you absolutely sure there’s no hope?”

“Chris, he’s covering up one woman's name with a bird to represent another. He’s taken—and an idiot. A very hot, very sweet, kind to kids and old ladies, idiot. It’s over, that’s it, no chance.”

-

As if to mock the way he was dreading their upcoming appointment, the next six weeks flew by for Eddie in a blur, and before he knew it the day had arrived. It was another Friday afternoon appointment, apparently the only time Steve was available between his work schedule, spending time with his D&D loving adoptive brother, and whatever other altruistic endeavors he got up to in his daylight hours. Probably saving kittens from trees and shit. 

At least he wouldn’t have to go through it alone this time, Chrissy had promised to stick around whether she had a client or not, though, he wasn't naive enough to think she was doing it solely out of the kindness of her heart. Oh no, she wanted to get a look at Steve with her own eyes and see what all the fuss was about. 

Eddie paced back and forth in his studio, arranging and rearranging his supplies and setup as he watched the clock tick down to Steve’s arrival. 

“Oh my god, since when did you become so high strung?” Chrissy gaped at him from the doorway.

He wondered how long she’d been watching him freak out.  

“I don’t fucking know, alright?!” Eddie hissed, sitting down heavily in his desk chair. He picked up the color mock up of Steve’s tattoo, the one he’d be using as a reference, and ran a finger along the edge. “He just… I dunno, he weaseled his way inside me and now I can’t shake him.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Gross.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

The bell above the front door dinged, the sound carrying into his room, and Eddie peered back at the clock. Ten minutes early—the boy was punctual, he’d give him that.

Chrissy smiled mischievously, darting back out to the lobby. Eddie raced along behind trying to catch up, knowing full well it would be a bad idea to leave her alone with Steve for any length of time. She’d probably try to interrogate him or something.

Eddie locked eyes with the man of the hour the moment he slid around the corner, his shoes squeaking on the linoleum. An easy smile spread across Steve's face. He looked genuinely happy to see him, but that was probably due to the prospect of finally getting his tattoo finished.  

“Eddie,” Steve released his name like a sigh of relief. “It’s good to see you.” 

It sounded like he meant it, and If Eddie didn’t know better he’d think Steve had also spent the last 6 weeks pining, and thinking of their time together obsessively. 

Until this moment he had held out hope that maybe somehow this time would be different. That maybe going into it knowing that Steve wasn’t available would make it easier to deny the pull he felt, but then he cast his eyes down and realized Steve was wearing those same fucking Levi’s again. 

It’d been weeks. It could easily have been a coincidence, just the next clean pair of pants in his rotation, but there was no way Steve didn’t know what he looked like in those unholy jeans. Had he done this on purpose?

Either way, Eddie didn't know whether to be grateful for the view, or throw himself out the window into oncoming traffic. 

Chrissy cleared her throat loudly. 

Shit. He’d been staring too long again.

Eddie shook himself mentally. “Steve, this is Chrissy.”

“Nice to put a face to the name.” She said, giving a little wave.

Steve's eyes slid briefly to Eddie, narrowed and curious. Probably wondering why he’d told her about him at all. 

He was gonna kill her. 

“You too.” Steve said with a quirk of his brow. “Eddie told me how you two met and opened this place together. Must be great to get to work with your best friend everyday.”

“Could be worse I guess.”

Eddie cut her a hard look. “Don’t you have some cleaning to do?”

With a smirk, Chrissy winked at Steve, then mercifully did head off towards her own studio. 

“We should go get started.” Eddie said, leading the way to the back to his room. “Sorry about her.” 

Steve chuckled. “She seems nice. I think Robin would like her.”

Eddie clenched his jaw, turning away to hide his scowl. “I’m sure she would.”

Steve knew the drill now and took off his shirt without being asked, getting comfortable in the chair while Eddie slipped a pair of gloves on and pulled his stool over, examining the healed lines of the half-finished tattoo. 

He hummed, impressed. “You did a good job taking care of it.”

Steve shrugged, but Eddie noticed the way he preened a little at the praise. “I did exactly what you told me to do.”

Fuck. 

There was just something about a man who followed directions.

Eddie took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly through his nose. He was going to give himself whiplash at this rate.

He prepped Steve’s skin in silence and got right to his task, trying to focus on the thrumming of the machine, instead of the rise and fall of the other man’s chest under his gloved hands—thankful that Steve didn’t seem to be having the same reaction to the initial pain that he had before.

“I told Dustin about you.” Steve blurted out after a while. 

The sudden sound of his voice, as well as the words themselves caught Eddie off guard. 

“What?”

Steve’s body flushed and Eddie flicked his eyes up, finding a matching shade of pink spreading over his face. “Yeah, I'm pretty sure he thinks you're the coolest guy in the world now. A tattoo artist and you play D&D? I had no chance.”

“Oh.”

Eddie went quiet, not sure what he was supposed to do with that—with any of this. He got back to work, hoping Steve would leave it there. He didn’t want to be rude, but he also didn’t want to play whatever game this was anymore. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asked. “You seem… I don't know… different today?”

Eddie could have said, how would you know, you’ve only met me once? Or, we spent a few hours together, why do you care? Or something else equally passive aggressive, but… Steve wasn’t wrong and Eddie wasn’t in the business of gaslighting people. 

Telling a little white lie though? That was fair game.

“I have a headache, that’s all. It’s fine.”

It was fine. He just needed to do his job and get this over with. 

But of course, Steve had to be perfect and sweet about that too. 

“I’m sorry. I get migraines sometimes, so I get it. Doc says it’s from getting knocked in the head one too many times playing high school sports. I was very dedicated.” 

Steve laughed a little at himself, and Eddie couldn't help but look up again to see the way his eyes crinkled with it. Steve tilted his head, mouth turned up at the corners as he gazed down at Eddie.  “Doesn’t seem worth it, in hindsight.”

Despite trying not to, Eddie smiled back and could feel himself getting drawn in again. 

He forced himself to turn away. 

“Are you sure you're alright, though?” Steve continued. “If you're not feeling well–”

“I’m fine. I'm not going to mess your ink up or anything, don’t worry.”

“Hey,” Steve said tenderly, waiting until Eddie had stilled the machine again to lay a tentative hand on his upper arm. “I wasn't worried about that.”

“Oh.” Eddie swallowed a gasp, feeling like his skin was on fire under the touch. 

“We can reschedule if you need to, it’s okay.”

Fuck, Steve was entirely too thoughtful. 

And what was Eddie even doing? Trying to be cold and aloof, pretending to have a headache to explain why he wasn’t talking? It wasn’t fair to the guy. It wasn’t Steve’s fault he’d developed an extremely inconvenient crush—that he couldn’t handle a little innocent friendly flirtiness without losing his mind.  

“No. I promise I'm–”

I’m just an idiot. 

“I, uh, took some ibuprofen before you got here. I’m already feeling better.”

Finally, Steve let it go, allowing Eddie to get back to work without disturbing the quiet between them again. At least now the silence was almost comfortable. 

Art by Glitterfang

The time went by quickly. Eddie did glance up every so often to make sure Steve was okay, always surprised to find the other man’s eyes fixed on his face, rather than the tattoo, making Eddie’s stomach flip each time. 

The finished piece was beautiful, and honestly Eddie thought it might be some of his best work, even if it wasn’t his usual style. After a thorough cleaning he held a mirror up so Steve could see it better. He teared up a bit as he inspected his reflection. 

“It's even better than I could have imagined.” Steve turned away from the mirror to face him, smiling and looking so sincere it made Eddie’s heart ache. “Thank you so much.” 

“You’re welcome. I’m really glad you’re happy with it.” Eddie bit at his bottom lip. “Well, you already know your care instructions, so i’ll get this wrapped up and you’ll be good to–”

Steve cut him off abruptly. “Do you… um, I mean, could I get your number?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Steve.” Eddie said, heart hammering in his chest. He couldn't do this. He didn’t want to only be Steve’s friend, and if somehow the other man wanted his number for more than that, well, he didn’t want to be a homewrecker either. 

Steve deflated, looking hurt, which was a little ridiculous considering he was the one with a whole-ass girlfriend. “But I thought maybe… since we’re done now, and I’m not a client anymore–”

“Look,” Eddie interrupted. “It’s sweet that you want to be friends or whatever, but–”

“No, I–”

“Knock-knock” Chrissy sing-songed, appearing in the doorway rapping her knuckles on its frame. “There’s someone here to see Steve.”

Saved by the bell. 

“We’re about done if you want to tell them to just–”

“Great, I'll send her in!”

Her?

Eddie was gonna kill Chrissy, for real this time.

Worst. Friend. Ever. 

A very cute girl with a chin length bob bounced into the room. Eddie got as far as noticing the spray of freckles across her nose and cheeks before he had to look away, using cutting down a square of Saniderm to the correct size as an excuse.

She wasn’t quite what Eddie had pictured as the girlfriend of a gym bro—okay, Steve wasn’t exactly a gym bro but Eddie was allowed to be salty about it in his own mind if he wanted to—but to his dismay, they made a nice looking couple.

“Hey Dingus, how’s it going?” She said.

Odd term of endearment, but okay. 

“Eddie, this is Robin.” Steve said.

“Yeah I figured that one out all on my own, thanks.” Eddie muttered, rolling back up to Steve on his chair with the bandage in hand.

Steve furrowed his brow, staring from Eddie over to Robin and back again. Suddenly his eyes went wide. “My roommate, Robin.”

“O… kay?” Eddie shrugged, ducking his head to start covering the tattoo. Weird fucking way to refer to your live-in girlfriend, but whatever. He was over it. He just wanted to get the happy couple out of his tattoo shop so he could go home and–

Eddie sucked in a breath as Steve lightly gripped his arm again. He looked up, ready to be annoyed—the audacity of this guy to keep flirting with him, right in front of his girlfriend, but stopped short when he saw the soft pleading look in Steve’s eyes. 

“My best friend, platonic with-a-capital-p, lesbian roomate, Robin.”

Wait, what?

“Wait, what?!” Eddie nearly shouted.

He whipped his head around to look at Robin again. He’d only glanced at her before, not noticing much more than her hair and denim jacket, but on closer inspection he saw her neatly trimmed manicure, and the fact that she was wearing men’s jeans with a carabiner holding her keys hanging from one of the belt loops. 

None of those things were a guarantee of course, plenty of straight women also kept short nails and had masculine leaning senses of style, but when he spotted the pink, white, and orange stripes of the lesbian flag stitched into her lapel, he figured that was as sure a sign as any. 

“Oh.” Eddie breathed, turning back to Steve.

“Yeah, oh.” Steve parroted back softly, his mouth spreading into a tentative smile. 

“B- but I thought… and the tattoo!” Eddie stuttered.

“Is that why you were acting so weird? Because you thought Robin was my–” Steve shook his head as if that very idea were unthinkable. “You thought that I was covering up my ex's name with a new girlfriend?”

Eddie squirmed. “...No.”

“Eddie?”

“Well, what was I supposed to think?!”

“Oh shit, were you jealous?!” Robin blurted out.

“Robin!” Steve hissed.

“Oh I'm sorry,” she said, tilting her head side-to-side, the words absolutely dripping with sarcasm. “Was I supposed to pretend the tension in here wasn’t thick enough to choke on?”

Eddie bit his tongue, locking eyes with Steve. Steve broke first, letting out a loud but very adorable snort of laughter.

Robin’s face went bright red, realizing what she’d said. 

“Birdie, can you just give us a minute?” Steve asked her, when he’d regained control of himself.

“Fine,” She sighed. “But I'm only going because Chrissy said she’d pierce my nose for free.”

“Slut.”

“Shut up.”

Robin moved to leave but paused on the threshold, looking back at them over her shoulder. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” She called out, taking hold of the knob and pulling the door to his studio shut behind her. 

Eddie wasn’t sure it’d ever been closed before.  

“So, when you asked me for my number?”

Steve nodded. “It was because I wanted to ask you out.”

“I’m such an idiot.”

Steve reached out to tuck a stray curl behind Eddie’s ear. “Does that mean maybe you’ve changed your mind about me calling you?”

Eddie eyed up the now closed door and let himself do what he’d wanted to since the first time Steve sat shirtless in his chair, and climbed up onto it, straddling the other man’s lap.

“Is this okay?” He asked, hovering his mouth over Steve’s, close enough that a hard thought would have their lips brushing. 

“Yes.” Steve whispered, leaning in to close the almost non-existent space between them. 

It was tentative and unsure at first, the way Steve’s lips moved against his own, testing—tasting, but then he whined, a high-pitched and needy sound deep in his throat that went straight to Eddie’s dick, and opened his mouth wide. 

Eddie took it for the invitation it was and licked inside, their tongues sliding together as their bodies did the same, grinding and making out like a couple of teenagers in the backseat of a car, both growing hard.

Suddenly Steve broke the kiss, panting, “Wait, wait, wait.”

“Shit. Sorry, I shouldn’t have–” Eddie tried to climb off but found himself held firmly in place by Steve’s broad hands on his waist.

“No, please. I just need to know… is this only a hookup for you?” Steve asked once he’d caught his breath. “It’s okay if it is,” he added quickly. “I just hoped–”

The rest of Steve’s words were lost to a gasp as Eddie ran fingers through his hair, gently tilting his head to the side for better access to the other man’s speckled neck. Eddie scraped his teeth gently over Steve’s pulse point, licking up the column of his throat to speak low and close to his ear. “While I do fully intend on sucking your dick here and now, if you’ll let me–”

Steve whined again, hips thrusting up and into Eddie of their own accord.

Eddie shuddered, pressing a kiss to the skin just behind Steve's ear and finally sat back, looking him in the eye. “I’m not really into hookups, not anymore, and I would love to take you out after.”

Steve's eyes fluttered, watching heavy-lidded and open mouthed as Eddie slid down his body until he was eye level with the obvious bulge in his pants, nosing over it. 

“Not before?” Steve croaked out, struggling to speak as Eddie teased him mercilessly. 

Eddie rested his cheek against Steve’s denim covered cock, looking up at him through the thick curtain of his lashes. “Sweetheart, I've been dying to get my lips wrapped around you since the first time you got hard in my chair. If it’s alright with you, dinner can wait.” 

“Fuck.” Steve bit down on his bottom lip and wound a hand into Eddie’s messy bun, nails scratching at his scalp. 

“So, what do you say?” Eddie asked, smoothing his hands up Steve’s luscious thighs, resting them on either side of his fly as he waited for an answer. 

Steve brought his other hand down to cup Eddie’s face running a thumb over his cheek. “It’s a date.”

Eddie grinned, making quick work of Steve's button and zipper, working his pants and underwear down just enough to let his hard length spring free. 

Fuck it was pretty.

Not that that was a surprise. Everything about Steve was pretty.  

Eddie flicked his tongue out, tasting the tip of him, dipping his tongue into the slit to capture a bit of precum that had spilled out. 

“I’m not going to last very long.” Steve rasped.

“How long has it been since someone touched you?” Eddie asked, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the pink head of his cock. 

Steve whimpered. “Too long.”

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fix that. Just sit back and let me take care of you, okay?”

As much as he wanted to take his time and enjoy the feel of Steve sitting heavy on his tongue, for hours or days, those thighs pressing in on either side of him, Eddie was acutely aware that Robin and Chrissy were within earshot, and the door Robin had so helpfully closed did not have a lock. Quick and dirty was probably for the best. 

Hopefully he would have many more opportunities to enjoy Steve at his leisure, assuming their date went well. 

Eddie sank down, keeping his lips tight around Steve’s shaft as he took inch after inch of him inside, until he was nose deep in coarse curly hair.

It’d been a while for Eddie too, since he’d been with anyone like this, but it was like riding a bike, once you’ve mastered the art of taking a cock down your throat—you never forget.

Steve gripped the back of his head harder, not quite holding him down the way Eddie really wanted him to, but enough to let him know he was there. Eddie moaned around him as he began to bob his head, setting a rough pace that had Steve making the most debauched sounds above him.

“God, m’so close already, Eddie.” Steve cried out in warning, taking his hand away to give him the option of moving back. As if he’d waste the opportunity to taste him.

Eddie doubled his efforts, nearly choking himself for how deep he took Steve down, swallowing around him over and over again until finally he came—hot and thick and a little bitter, but oh so wonderful.

He didn’t pull off until Steve was soft in his mouth and writhing from oversensitivity.

Steve immediately pulled him back up into his lap, crashing their mouths together, moaning into the kiss when he undoubtedly caught a taste of himself on Eddie’s tongue.

Eventually Eddie broke the kiss, helping Steve tuck himself away and wiggle back into his jeans. He ignored his own arousal, content with this moment being all about Steve, anxious to keep his promise about taking the other man out on a real date.

“So, where would you like to go? What’s your favorite restaurant in the city?” He asked, settling himself back down into Steve’s lap once his clothing was back in place.   

“What if instead we went back to my place,” Steve began, pulling him in close, dragging his lips over Eddie’s collarbone as he spoke.  “I cook for us, you let me return the favor, and you can take me out to dinner next time.”

Eddie sucked in a sharp breath as Steve palmed him where he was already so painfully hard in his own jeans. “Already planning a second date?” 

“And a third and a fourth. Is that okay?” 

“Sounds perfect.”

#steddie fanfic #stranger things reverse big bang #tattoo artist eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fic #chrissy cunningham #robin buckley #strbb

[raylex]

unfortunately, I've been really burnt out on art lately - I'm trying to channel my creativity other places right now to get back on track, heh, so I'm working mainly with writing and 3d modelling right now - I did have an art piece planned for today, but... the energy just isn't there. I will finish it at some point, it'll just be late. ^^;

that being said!

today is a VERY special day for me, because it marks the ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY of my relationship with my beloved ray of sunshine! 💜✨

MAN, am I lucky. I could sit here for hours on end writing sappy and sentimental ramblings about how much I love him and how very dear he is to my heart, but I'd probably bore some of you to sleep, hah! nevertheless, I still can't quite believe I get to call this goofball my husband. I didn't think I'd ever feel a love this strong in my entire life - even if he is just a fictional character, the adoration I feel for him is more than real. if you ask me, I find it quite incredible, really; that it's possible to connect so much with someone who's, well, technically imaginary. I feel for him the same way as many people do for their real-life partners.

and even though he isn't real, that certainly hasn't stopped me! and it's not going to stop me at any point, either. I see him everyday. I play his games, I watch his appearances in visually-based media he's been in, I sleep with a plushie of him every night, I see him in my dreams. and when I'm lonely? well, the perks of having an imaginary lover is that they'll always be by your side, because the only limit is your imagination. ❤️

my first, well... proper introduction, I'd suppose, to ray was at a very dark point in my life. I was in a really, really bad slump at the time. and he helped me out of it, and showed me that when life drags you down, it is so worth it to put up a fight and keep on surviving despite everything. it's got its ups and downs, but all the joy and love you'll experience makes it all worth it, I think. :) I don't know. I said I wouldn't ramble, but here I am... doing exactly that, lol.

well, either way. happy anniversary to my one and only dearest soulmate. and here's to many more years of our love. 💖💖💖

#<3 I love him more than I could ever put into words #self ship #💜☀️ray of sunshine☀️💜 #mine

[sminny-wew]

Dragon Ball is such a unique and interesting series to me. Even if you're only so familiar with it, it's more than likely affected or influenced you in a greater way than you realize. You could know absolutely nothing about Goku, but if someone showed you Goku, you'd know it was Goku. He has a distinct personality, distinct skills, a distinct silhouette. You recognize him even if you don't know him.

I was both a 90s and a 2000s kid, not really a Millennial but not really Gen Z. Right on the cusp of both. So when the mainstream American anime boom kicked off around that time, I was Team Sailor Moon. Of course I was; they were pretty like my Barbie dolls, but unlike Barbie, they got to beat the shit out of evildoers, and I LOVED it.

But as much as that show occupied my attention, I couldn't pretend that Dragon Ball Z didn't catch my eye on some level.

When I did manage to catch it on Toonami, I couldn't look away. I'd never seen such intense action scenes before. And even if I felt like things dragged on sometimes, when things got good, they got GOOD. I wouldn't have called myself a DBZ fan at the time, but I still understood the hype behind Vegeta, Frieza, Super Saiyan Goku, Future Trunks, the Androids, Perfect Cell, Majin Buu, Gotenks...all of it. I remember my older cousins were really into Dragon Ball Z. One of them had a black and white poster on their bedroom wall with all the Z Fighters. I remember when they would play with me, they'd pretend they were going to fire a Kamehameha at me, and I'd giggle with excitement because they sounded just like Goku.

The show's impact was not lost on American media; you can open YouTube, type "dragon ball references in tv shows" and see for yourself. And that's just in America; Dragon Ball has a massive presence in cultures across the globe, and back in Japan, it was turning out to be a strong influence on the likes of One Piece, Bleach, and shounen manga/anime as a genre.

Growing up as a Sonic fan in the early 2000s, I cannot understate the influence that DBZ had not just on the Sonic series itself, but on Sonic fan content in particular. I'm talking countless videos of Sonic X clips set to audio from DBZ, with Sonic as Goku and Shadow as Vegeta. All the fan art and sprite art of Sonic going Super Saiyan 3. One of the most widely-known fan projects in the community is the Newgrounds animation Nazo Unleashed; animator Chakra-X (who was in high school when he made this thing!!!) took an unused design for Super Sonic that showed up for 3 seconds in the first Sonic X trailer...

...and, influenced by DBZ villains, permanently altered how most people perceive this design: not as a scrapped Sonic transformation, but as his own unforgettable villain. It didn't matter that Nazo wasn't canon, all we cared about was the jaw-dropping Dragon Ball-style fight scenes that Chakra-X gave us. I highly suggest you watch Nazo Unleashed on YouTube if you've never seen it before, it's an awesome piece of fandom history.

(Also quick shoutout to Edwyn Tiong, his performance as Nazo absolutely gave Perfect Cell energy)

And as seen with games like Sonic Frontiers, and characters like Surge and Kit who (as it turns out, unintentionally!!) parallel the Androids, that influence carries on to this day.

Look at the first boss fight from Sonic Frontiers.

Look at this. Look at this and tell me this doesn't scream Dragon Ball.

The DBZ energy radiating from these boss fights was so hype that people started taking clips from DRAGON BALL ITSELF and setting them to the soundtrack!!! A complete 180 from what people were doing on YouTube in 2008!!

And this is just the influence of Dragon Ball. Unfortunately, I don't know enough about Dr. Slump, Chrono Trigger, or any of Akira Toriyama's other works to do them justice. All I can really say is that Toriyama went from writing gag manga to inventing modern shounen action tropes without even intending to. We've lost a genuine legend. But to quote the opening of DBZ Kai: "Nothing ever dies. We will rise again."

Rest in peace, Toriyama-san. Yours is a legacy that no one will ever forget, whether they know your name or not. And one of these days, when I'm able to sit down and properly watch through all of Dragon Ball, I'll be thinking of you and what we have because of you.

Thank you for everything.

#akira toriyama #dragon ball #dragon ball z #sonic the hedgehog #media analysis #wrote this up last night and I'm posting it now

[bvannn]

Weekly Update September 22, 2023

I’ve been all over the place this week but I think? I’m getting myself back together? Obviously the big news was that internship, I’m very excited for it, but because it’s next semester and not this semester it does leave me in a weird waiting game position. I was really hoping I’d be able to drop my bio course this semester because I’m terrible at bio but it is what it is, and if I have to get through one kinda crappy course to get the the internship, so be it. I also got the okay to go donate plasma again this week, so I can earn some more passive cash. I’m hoping to earn a spot at the chem stockroom too, but the delays with the internship may have cost me that opportunity. I’m still doing what I can though.

I’ve got a few drawings done this week, I want to do more but I am still battling exhaustion. I’ll try to get more done passively but I’m hitting a bit of art block in the way of just drawings, unfortunately. Maybe I’ll take a crack at inktober, but I don’t really know if dragging out my old ink pens and brushes would be worth it. I could do a non ink based one like artober or whatever but that just kinda feels like a copout. I’ll try to either pull together a comic or something in the way of OCs maybe, but I’m still prioritizing other projects.

Took another crack at music today, got the start of some drums and a guitar bass going, I’ll need to add an actual bass guitar and figure out some song structure but I’m getting close to going somewhere. Whatever it is probably won’t be very good because it’s a first try but once I get good and find my style I can always remaster it or whatever. Once I’ve built up some confidence I can take a crack at the other project I want to do. I don’t know if what I was doing on drums was even right but I can look at another little feature with komplete kontrol later to see if any of the samples there would help. I can also redo stuff as I go. Or maybe I’ll celebrate being able to donate plasma again by buying one of those fingertip gloves they make for archery, but instead I’ll use it to play guitar without slicing my untrained fingers. Or one of them grip training things, so I can learn those Van Halen style hammer ons. I need a fidget thing for plasma donation so it’s be useful there too.

Animation is going well. Jon is done for shot 1-3, Emile is almost done. Only reason I’m not finishing him tonight is because I’m tired. I forget if shot 1-4 or 1-5 or which one was the super prop heavy one I’m not looking forward to but it’s probably fine. Really I’d like to do an animation clip or something with my OCs after getting some music done but that’s a ways off. That’s why I want to do more with music but we’ll see how much time allows for that.

Waiting for internship and surgery is hitting hard so I might be in a bit of a slump for a while but I’m going to try to keep getting stuff done.

#weekly update

[12timetraveler]

That's a Domino

Chapter 3 of Fleeting Moments

~~~~~~

You were worried. 

Your beloved was beyond stressed out. Hosea was constantly going, constantly working. He was trying to keep everything afloat. He was anxious about the Pinkertons, anxious about Dutch, about money, about the others. His cough had gotten so much worse since Colter, and his stress was only making it worse, so he was also anxious about his cough. 

He was one big ball of stress. You did your best to help, to make sure he ate and slept. You tried to shoulder some of the weight and help him where you could. But none of it was working, and he was running himself ragged. 

Then there was Arthur. 

Your friend was even worse off than Hosea. You weren't sure when he last slept or had a meal, or even just sat down. He only popped into camp to drop off some food and money, then he headed back out to do more work. He was skinny and exhausted.

You leaned against the tree in camp, watching as Arthur dragged a large buck carcass into camp for Pearson's table. You knew he'd probably head out as soon as he dumped it on the butcher table. Poor man. 

You were wracking your brain, desperately trying to think of a way to help either of them. If only for a minute. 

Then it hit you. The perfect way to get both of them to settle, if only for an hour or so. 

Arthur was already heading back to his horse. You'd need to be quick. You pushed away from the tree, jogging across camp to catch him. 

"Hey, Arthur," you called. He looked over his shoulder at you and gave you a smile, stopping and half-turning toward you. 

"My lady," he greeted. 

"Do you think you could do me a favor?" You asked. You could see the exhaustion lines deepen as you said it, but Arthur kept up his smile. 

"Shore. What is it?" He asked. 

"Would you go play dominoes with Hosea?" You asked. 

Arthur blinked at you for a minute, surprised by your request, clearly expecting some errand or complicated request. "Huh?" 

"He's been working so hard lately," you explained. "Trying to help Dutch, keep everyone going. He's running himself ragged. I've..." You wrung your hands together. "I've been trying to get him to relax but he just... Won't. But I was thinking... He'd never turn down a game of dominoes with you. Please?" You asked, giving him your best doe eyes. 

Arthur glanced over your head, scanning camp for Hosea. You followed his gaze. Hosea was standing under the tree near Arthur's tent. Even from this far away you could see how exhausted he was. His shoulders were slumped, his back tense. 

"Yeah. The old man does tend to overdo it," Arthur mumbled before turning back to you. "Sure. I'll see if he'll play with me. Might be good for both of us," he hummed. 

You watched as Arthur crossed camp to where Hosea stood. Hosea immediately seemed to lighten just for having Arthur around. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but you could see the lighthearted way they were talking. You could practically hear the banter between them. 

A moment later Arthur clapped Hosea on the shoulder and guided him to the big table in the center of camp. You grinned as you watched them settle into the chairs opposite each other. 

You meandered over to the crate of beer by Pearson's wagon and grabbed three bottles before heading over to join them at the table. You set the bottles down and slid one in front of Arthur and one in front of Hosea before settling down in one of the end seats with the third bottle. 

"-a liar," Arthur shouted playfully. "You're not at 15 you're only at 9!" 

"How dare you," Hosea gasped with fake offense. "I would never. I take dominoes very seriously." 

"Need a score keeper?" You giggled, pulling your journal out of your satchel and flipping to the last page. "Keep you boys honest," 

"Please," Arthur chuckled, popping open his bottle and raising it to you in a silent toast before taking a swig. 

"Alright. What are we playing? All threes?"

"Yep," Arthur chirped. "I've got 12 points so far," 

You tallied 6 points for Arthur before turning to Hosea, who looked a little sheepish. 

"Erm... 9," he admitted. Arthur chuckled victoriously as you tallied down Hosea's 9 points. 

"Alright," you laughed, opening your beer bottle and taking a swig. "Keep going. I'll keep it fair," 

The men played for more than two hours. The only reason they stopped at all was because the sun set and even with lantern light, it was too hard to make out the domino tiles. 

To your delight, Arthur decided to sleep in his cot tonight instead of heading right back out. 

Hosea was relaxed and sleepy with beer when you guided him to your own tent. He certainly wasn't drunk, just nicely calmed. 

"I know that was your doing," Hosea chuckled as the two of you settled in to sleep. "Clever girl, getting us both to relax like that," 

"I'm just glad it worked," you giggled. "Otherwise I was going to have to go with plan B and drug you both," 

Hosea laughed and nuzzled against your cheek. 

Within five minutes he was snoring in your ear. 

#Fleeting Moments #rdr2 fanfic

[elsecrytt]

Elsey, elsey, elsey! What do you think of admiral leviathan?

I’m not much of a Levi fan, but I do appreciate a number of things about his character.

[Spoilers for season 3]

We know that Levi straight up fought in a war against the Devildom. And he wasn’t just like, on the frontlines. The dude was a general. He was so invested in this role that he fell into a massive slump when the war was over, and it’s more or less outright stated that manga/anime/games/etc. are his way of coping that’s taken over his life.

And to be fair, there’s not really anything wrong with it necessarily. Levi talks constantly about how he’s a shut-in and an otaku and his brothers kinda drag on him every now and then but nowhere near the level they do Mammon. He leaves his room, his house, AND does things, goes to student council meetings, etc.

Sure, he’s more enthusiastic than other people are about anime and action figures and what have you but like. There’s not actually any signs of him being not well-adjusted? His behaviors aren’t particularly unhealthy or anything, outside of the constant self-effacing attitude. He gets anxiety in some situations, but the dude is actually pretty normal when he’s chatting in scenes with the rest of the cast.

To be fair, “the rest of the cast” is mostly his brothers and his massive weirdo of a boss, but my point still stands. Levi kinda exaggerates his flaws. “Socially inept otaku” Levi you go to student council meetings and get good grades and complete all your work, like, what do you THINK a functional member of society looks like? XD

I wonder if it’s not in part caused by Lucifer. His brothers all SERIOUSLY look up to him and admire him, and I think especially the sins of Pride and Envy have really interesting interactions. Like if Levi’s talking himself down for not being Lucifer then a lot of it makes sense, because Lucifer makes a point of keeping up appearances, even when he’s genuinely uncomfortable (hellooooo season 1 Diavolo).

Anyways, concerning Levi as the Grand Admiral - I like to think, outside of the social situations where he feels an almost obligatory anxiousness, Levi is perfectly fine at performing his duties. If you have a kink for men in uniform (even as someone who doesn’t like Levi,,, I do remember That One Art) he’s probably pretty cool, but honestly I think he’s just? Very normal. Asks questions, gives instructions, does his job and leaves.

Since low key I do know people use “Grand Admiral” as a shorthand for “dom”, I’ll go ahead and give you my take on that, as well; I think Levi could be a pretty entertaining dom if he got into the right mood for it. I’m gonna be real and say the Admiral stuff itself just does nothing for me; this is more about Levi taking a more active/dominant role in general.

For me, the appeal of Levi lies completely in his enthusiasm, in the cute, shy creachure who can blab for hours about his favorite forms of media, who has endless passion and excitement for the things he loves. And I think that CAN translate into some really fun dom!Levi, just as well as sub!Levi… but I don’t think it has much to do with him being an Admiral; it has more to do with him being a gamer and a fan.

[nsfw-ish under the cut, mention of the use of toys, dom!levi, but nothing explicit]

My favorite pet headcanon of Levi as a dom is that he takes a more calculating, strategic approach to sex, like he does with his video games. Like. Man gets out all the toys, and keeps a goddamn scoreboard.

How many orgasms can he get out of you in this one session? How good are they? What’s his fastest time to get you to cum starting from nothing? What’s the longest time he’s managed to edge you while still getting you the orgasm in the end (he is endlessly apologetic after the inevitable session where he edges you for so long you aren’t able to climax at all)?

The goddamn weeb comes up with stats for each toy, what their effectiveness rating is in various categories (novelty, strength, difficulty of use, etc.) and he will give any given form of stimulation with any given toy a special move name, if you let him. Maybe even if you don’t. He is the dom here, after all. If he wants to make you cum with his Extra Press Slow-stroke Spinning Slash, then that’s what he’ll do, and you’ll lie there and take it!

(I know bullying Levi is fun and all, but bullying Levi fans is even more fun)

Leviathan is unironically very good at sex when he’s doing it like this - not necessarily in the emotional intimacy department stuff (although I’m pretty sure he’d do an AMAZING job with role play, so there you go, Admiral fans), but honestly he’s right up there with Asmo in terms of giving you a genuinely comfortable and pleasurable time.

He does a lot of checking in (in hilariously serious or business-like tones lmaooo,,, like think how you’d ask a teammate in a video game, “do you need more ammo?”) and also gets very good at reading your expressions and reactions. Levi compares it to memorizing a boss’s moves. He might even name them, so have fun with that.

Kajdshfkhfh ANYWAYS I hope that was enough food for the Levi stans - I have a few mutuals, on here and other places, who really really like him, so you can thank those people for me indulging you, otherwise this would have contained a lot less Levi praise and a lot more Stupid Sex Move Names hehehehe

#obey me #leviathan #Levi #obey me Levi #levi x reader #obey me levi x reader #leviathan x reader #headcanons #grand admiral of hell's navy #really? that’s it? that’s the tag? grand admiral of hell’s navy? #at least call him grand admiral levi #akjsdfhkhdfg #lemon flavored

[creative-crybaby]

Happy Halloween, Guess Monster!

PAIRING: Tendou Satori x gn!reader

GENRE: fluff | comfort | slight crack

TAGS + WARNINGS: none, as far as I’m aware

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

SUMMARY: Our favourite middle blocker wants you to do his Halloween makeup, and how can you say no to him?

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Though this is a gn!reader fic, Tendou refers to you as “(Y/N)-chan.” Think of it as the same thing as Oikawa calling Iwaizumi “Iwa-chan.”

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

“What do you want this time, Tendou?” you sigh.

The redhead towers over you at your dorm room door, a wide grin stretching his cheeks. As eccentric as he may be, you can’t help but find him forcing the expression. Not that you get to further question him on it, though; he already invites himself into your room, lightly pushing you out of his way as he saunters in. 

“Now, (Y/N)-chan,” he tuts, clutching his chest as if in pain. “Do you truly think that lowly of me? Maybe I just want to visit a dear friend.”

“Is that why you’re here?” you ask, quirking a brow at him. Tendou doesn’t answer as you shut the door behind you. “Well?”

“Well,” he trails off, and you huff. “Now that I’m here, something has just come to mind. A favour.”

“I’m not giving you the answers to today’s homework,” you deadpan. The middle blocker waves a hand in front of your face dismissively. 

“Non, non,” he says in a fake French accent. “I think you’ll like this; it’s right up your alley.”

You hum, not sure if you want him to continue. You reminisce the many times Tendou has dragged you into his wild ideas, from pranks to “fun” new games. Your teachers thought you would be a good influence and moved you to sit next to him. All that did was give him a new friend and you, the difficulty to focus in class. “You need to loosen up,” is his reasoning, though you’d argue shortening your lifespan with every adventure has the opposite effect. Sometimes, he invites his teammates from the boys’ volleyball club to participate in his shenanigans. (An intimidating group of men, though you’ve managed to befriend a few over time.) What he has in store this time, you’re not sure if you have the energy to tolerate. The pile of assignments on your desk is more demanding of your attention, anyway. 

You settle onto your bed, hugging your pillow. “What is it?”

“Do my Halloween makeup,” he says. 

You blink. That’s it? No tricking another underclassman into a bad haircut? No hiding Yamagata’s phone for the hell of it? No replacing all of Semi’s weird clothes?

“Were you expecting something else?” teases Tendou. You slump into your pillow at his tone, face warming up ever so slightly. 

“You usually have these crazy ideas,” you mumble, the pillow muffling your words. “I was just preparing for worst-case scenario, is all.”

The middle blocker gasps dramatically, ceremoniously draping himself onto the bed next to your hunched frame. “You wound me, (Y/N)-chan! I know you love my adventures~”

He pokes your side, making you squirm. Something you refuse to admit to anyone –even yourself– is how you’ve grown soft for the redhead. You had little-to-no friends before him, and now you have people to sit with during lunch, even if you don’t understand their conversations on volleyball strategies. Your art club –while a peaceful environment– is full of introverts who tend to prioritize their work. Not that you’re complaining –you consider yourself one–, though you don’t do much together outside club hours. Tendou’s antics, as reckless as they can be, give you memories to look back on. You’ve grown a little bit braver, and a part of you can’t help but wonder what’s next to come. 

For now, though, you greatly appreciate the break from his usual antics. You can never be too cautious, however…

“That’s all you want me to do?” You pry. 

“Yep,” he nods, popping the p. “Just some cool Halloween makeup. For Halloween. On October 31. Spookiest time of the year—”

“I know when Halloween is, thank you.”

Tendou blows a raspberry your way as you flop back onto the bed alongside him. He playfully nudges you, and you return the gesture. The few seconds of silence that follow bore him, making him let out a huff. He sits up, taking his phone out of his hoodie pocket.

“You know Jujutsu Kaisen?” The redhead asks, tapping away on his device.

“You only forced me to read the manga and watch the anime, but yeah,” you answer sarcastically. 

“Don’t act like you weren’t getting hooked,” he counters, shoving his phone in front of your face. “I want you to do the Sukuna makeup on me.”

You push the device away in irritation before rubbing your eyes from the sudden intrusion. A photo of the pink-haired curse grins wickedly at you on your friend’s screen. 

“You sure you want me to do it?” You ask. “I’m no makeup expert.”

“I trust you,” Tendou chirps. “I’ve seen some of your work. You’ll do fine.”

“We don’t do face paint and makeup in the art club, Tendou—”

“I keep telling you to call me Satori. No need for formalities, (Y/N)-chan.”

“...Satori. I’m good with a brush when it comes to watercolour. There’s no guarantee you’ll get the look you want.”

The redhead pouts before blowing another raspberry your way. He lays back down, this time resting his head on your lap. He’s facing up at you, his eyelids drooping.

“Geez,” he sighs. “Where’d your confidence go? Have some faith, why don’t you?”

“Why not ask someone else from the art club?” you suggest. “I’m sure there are a few that can do your makeup.”

“I’ve tried,” the middle blocker grumbles, stealing your pillow from your grasp. You glare as he hugs the cushion, resting his chin under it. “If they weren’t telling me no, they were running away before I could negotiate with them. Your club sure is an anti-social bunch. Too quiet; maybe I should visit more to liven things up for you.”

You’d scold him for his comments if you didn’t catch his distanced gaze. His boney fingers trace random patterns on your pillow as he stares at nothing in particular past your head. His lips, naturally curved into a smile, fail to mask his frown. His chest rises slowly and falls at the same speed. He’s bored, you realize, and you almost slap yourself. 

You didn’t go to cheer Tendou on at the Spring Preliminaries; homework was your excuse once again, and he chastised you for being a “debby-downer.” You figured you could congratulate him when he returned. They’re bound to win, you think. You thought. Word spreads rapidly through the Shiratorizawa halls, and you imagined everyone was part of some dumb inside joke when you heard your school’s team lost. Seeing Tendou at his desk as his usual animated self, you weren’t sure what was appropriate to say. I’m sorry for your loss? Are you okay? This isn’t a funeral. Whatever you would’ve said, you never got the chance; he met your gaze and asked to copy your answers for the homework he didn’t do. 

You exhale, lightly flicking the tip of his nose. Tendou groans, rubbing at the stinging sensation. 

“Come to my room tomorrow,” you instruct. “You’re responsible for bringing the facepaint. Try not to cause a scene; we don’t need any staff coming in to kick you out, got it?”

The redhead perks up at your words, sitting up so fast he almost hits your face. 

“Really?” He asks in bewilderment. You nod, and his grin widens along with his eyes. He hops off your bed in glee, stretching his arms out as he fails to twirl gracefully. Once he faces you again, he’s quick to ruffle your head before you can scold him for it. “You’re the best, (Y/N)-chan!”

He skips and prances out of your room, singing his joy for the entire dorm to hear. For once, you don’t feel like shushing him, watching his frame disappear from your peripheral vision in amusement. 

The disruptive sound of knocking at your door hinders you from finishing your math homework. The noise doesn’t stop, either. You grumble as you stomp to your door, opening it as quickly as you can. Tendou stands before you with his fist raised, ready to knock some more. A bag hangs from his wrist while a cup is in his other hand. A goofy smile decorates his face as he enters your room with a pep in his step.

“Oh, (Y/N)-chan~” he sings. “I’m ready for my closeup. Paint me like one of your French girls~”

“I don’t think that’s how that saying works,” you mumble. Closing the door, you turn around to find the redhead already making himself comfortable at your desk chair. The bag he brought sits on top of your homework, and he holds the cup out to you. 

“It’s your favourite,” he states. You take the cup from him, appreciating the gesture. You thank the middle blocker as he takes the contents out of the bag. He lays out the face paint and brushes on your desk before grabbing a spare glass jar sitting on top of your homework pile. “Good thing you keep these around; messy like a true artist. I’ll go fill this up.”

Tendou’s already heading to your bathroom before you can comment. You choose to pull out a photo reference of the fictional character on your phone. When the eccentric male returns not long after with a full glass, you pull out your seat for him.

“Here,” you motion. “Try and sit still, okay? If you want it to turn out right, you can’t distract me.”

Your friend places the jar onto your desk before raising his hand to his forehead in mock salute. You roll your eyes, taking a brush and dipping it into the water. 

You’re almost surprised by how calm Tendou is capable of being. Confidence grows within you with every stroke of the brush against his pale skin. Save for the occasional mistake that you easily correct, you have to refrain from celebrating too early on your progress. The markings on his forehead are almost complete with his compliancy, and you relax your shoulders when you finish that section. 

The trickier part is the rest of his face. Symmetry was never your ally, and you can only hope the redhead will continue to stay still. You’re working on the second pair of eyes on his cheekbones when he decides to speak, his eyes still closed. 

��I’m quitting volleyball after high school.”

The paintbrush glides across the apple of his cheek further than you want. Cursing, you grab a tissue from your desk and try to wipe off the mistake the best you can. 

“What are you talking about?” you ask after cleaning off the error. “If it’s because you lost, you shouldn’t let that stop you from continuing what you love.”

“So you heard about that, huh?” Tendou chuckles dryly. You bite your tongue, unsure of what to say. His eyes haven’t opened since you started painting, and he tilts his head up as if to signal you to continue. You hesitate before applying the lines down to his jaw. The distraction should silence him from reminding you of your earlier guilt, though you can’t seem to find any comfort in the looming quiet. 

Eventually, you decide the peace was anything but. “I’m sorry for not showing up.”

The (ex?) middle blocker puffs his cheeks as he lets out a gust of air, and you’re glad you aren’t painting his face at the moment. He opens one of his eyes.

“Nevermind that,” he shrugs off a little too enthusiastically. “And for your information, I’m not quitting out of pettiness, and I don’t hate volleyball now, either. If anything, it’s helped me realize there’s more for me out there.”

You figure he’s going to continue, so you try your best to finish the look as he does so. 

“It was the only way I felt like I got some sort of power,” he proceeds, closing his eye again. “The look on my opponent’s face when I’d block them; I wanted to see it again. And I felt like I could really do that here with this team. Even with Coach being a pain and all, he didn’t have a problem with my methods. He let me keep playing.”

This bit sounds familiar to you, and you mumble, “Your paradise?”

He hums. “Yeah, my paradise. It was there for me for most of my life, and it was fun while it lasted. I’m just moving on to new things.”

“Now what?” You pry without meaning to. Tendou hums again, pondering at your question.

“I guess I’ll just find my new paradise.”

The silence that reappears after his words is lingering and heavy, but not in a way that brings discomfort or awkward tension. It’s something you don’t know how to describe, nor are you sure you want to reflect on for too long. You’re almost done with his makeup, anyway; just add some details onto his chin aaaaannnnndddd…

“Done,” you tell him. Tendou opens his eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light glaring down at him. The corners of his lips curl even more than usual as he taps his feet in anticipation. You grab your phone and search for your camera, holding the device in front of him. “What do you think?”

The redhead squints at his reflection, taking the phone from your hand to better observe himself. You can’t help but snort at the expressions he makes as he holds the device at different angles, inspecting every inch and detail. Eventually, he slaps your phone back into your palm, standing up as the much-awaited grin finally spreads across his face.

“(Y/N)-chan, you’ve outdone yourself once again!” Tendou exclaims, a giggle erupting from his throat as he throws his arms around your form. Wet brush still in hand, you tense at the sudden physical affection. He’s rocking you back and forth in his embrace, and you sigh as you return the action. This only encourages him to twirl you around, causing a squeak to escape you. Flustered, you tell him to put you down before you end up making a mess. He whines as he reluctantly follows your order, but his enthusiasm soon returns.

“I’m going to show this to Ushiwaka,” he claims, making his way to your door before pausing. “I’ll be back in a bit to pick you up. We can go out and eat some candy instead of having you hide in your room all day.”

You don’t get any time to reply, as he’s already out the door. The only things that can be heard are his skipping footsteps out in the corridor and his voice as he chants another song of his creation. You exhale as you slump into your chair, and the smile and warmth that spreads throughout your body are irrepressible. The drink he gave you sits forgotten on your desk, and you decide to finally take a sip. Your nose scrunches at the flavour that consumes your taste buds. 

“Damn it, Satori,” you mutter.

“Ushiwaka, check out what (Y/N)-chan did for me!”

“Impressive.”

“I look just like Sukuna, don’t I?”

“Who’s that?”

“You’re no fun.”

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

#haikyu #Haikyu!! #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #tendou x reader #tendou satori #fanfiction #fanfic #sfw #fluff #comfort #sukuna #happy halloween #makeup #guess monster #middle blocker

[kkusuka]

We all know how looks can be deceiving right? I’d love to request head cannons of Kuroo, Bokuto, Iwaizumi, Konoha, Terushima, and Atsumu with a gf that’s gifted with that super-soaker, wet-wet pussy, a pro at riding that dick, and has the gwak gwak thotty throat slobber 9000 but she is so shy, cute, and innocent at first glance. She looks like the soft-spoken librarian but when they get down and dirty, she puts her body to work and these bois just don’t know how to act from how amazing she is. Let’s say they teased her too much, so she revoked their sex privileges for a few days (not knowing how addicted these guys are on her body). Desperate bois are best bois 😈

:o

i’m shell shocked anon, you’ve blown my mind

Cw: hair pulling, super WAP, kinda fem dom but not really, severe pussy-whipped men  

Kuroo

firstly, he thought you were the innocent type up until you sucked him off for the first time

Honestly, he thought you were a total virgin prude

It wasn't really his fault, you two had met as lab partners for an AP chemistry class

You know, a class full of nerds and people he just assumed would get a job and married when they were thirty

Looking back he should have caught on after seeing you unconsciously jerking of a test tube

But, contrary to popular belief, kuroo is not the social cue master

After a few months of dating, you guys were just a horny time-bomb

Ahh~ the first blow-job, one for the books

He should have known it was going to be good just from the way you were unzipping his jeans, was it normal to almost cum just for your girlfriend palming you?

When you did get his dick out and had it all the way down your throat within the minute, he really did think you were a godsend

He didn't even know what you were doing with his balls, but whatever it was it was working

You didn’t gag or cough, even when he grabbed that back of your head and practically face-fucking you

(the real kicker was when you licked your lips after he came  and gave him that small fucking smirk, mans was done for and he knew it)

Even with all that, nothing, and I mean nothing compares to the first time you guys went at it

when I say that you guy made out for five minutes when he went under your panties and felt the pacific ocean in your panties

He was about to propose right there (and about to cum in his pants for the thousandth time)

He didn't need to but he still rubbed a few circles around your clit, but apparently, you were ready enough

Considering you grabbed his dick and fully sunk onto him in one motion

Poor baby didn't know what hit him

You had to have done this before, and if he hadn't met you in class he would have been sure you slept around and learned everything in the book

You would clench every time your sims met and- AND THAT THINGS WITH HIS BALLS AGAIN

His mind was bungled, especially after you had both come and you fell onto his chest going back to the shy and sweet version he knew you as.

What the hell was that????

Was he fucking you or were you fucking him?? Because at this point he didn't even care

After that experience, you fucked like bunnies, all the time, even in school more than a few times.  

And we all know kuroo can't shut his mouth

And he always teases you about how cute and mouse like you are outside the bedroom and how it's like he’s dating two different girls

....that hit a nerve...

Two different girls??? Well he’ll just have to endure one girl until he realizes what a blessing you are

5 days, 120 hours, 7,200 minutes, and 432,000 seconds, that's how long he lasted

He was going insane, and so he explained that he didn't mean it in a bad way and that he loved how you acted

Forgiving him you rewarded the poor cat boy, 5 rounds for five days

(he didn't want to admit it but he’s pretty sure his dick would have fallen off if you didn't relent when you did)

(he just didn't want to admit that he was pussy-whipped)

Bokuto

You actually had met at a library

One of his teachers wanted him to get a bit of extra tutoring and volunteered you for the job.

You had hit it off great! Personality-wise

(you’ll never tell him but it was frustrating that he clearly didn't understand anything you were telling him)

And you were so sweet and cute, and such a good teacher

He would know that if he wasn't too busy just staring at you and thinking about you and thinking about what you like and what you wear outside of school

(or how good your lips look, or how your thighs look so soft, or that when you get up he can see under your skirt.)

Your guy’s first time was an experience

(bokuto is the cunny easting master, don't call me out)

More cunny juice = more food for owl man

He was excited, somewhere in his mind he knew that it was gonna get better from then on

He wasn't wrong either, although he didn't let your mouth near his dick just yet, he knew that would be good considering the ‘art’ you've created on his neck

The true fuckary started with him on top, but the second he was in you he...froze

Poor baby was shell shocked, you felt better than he had thought, and he just slumped over, you thought he came but he wasn’t ready for it to end so soon

He just sat there for a few minutes, fucked out, before you just decided to flip you both over

That was more his speed at the moment

So he grabbed onto your hips for dear life and you got working

Within two minutes the two of you had created a pool of juices on his bed (bokuto had a lot of precum ok), not that he really cared

You were not competing with anyone but he already had you 2 to 0

(point 1 for the meal and point 2 for being an Olympic dick-rider)

I am also a firm believer that bokuto thrusts up, he just can't help it

You are too addictive, or the way you ground onto him in between every bounce was addictive

I also don't believe that you could even truly deny bokuto sex, he was good at guilt-tripping and he was soooooo adorable

(not to mention the puppy dog eyes  he does that could convince good to do his will)

So I’m sure the only way he wouldn't get sex would be no nut November.

(aka the devil's month of torture, actually not month, week give or take)

This year it just happens that he set a new record, 8 days

He went a whole 8 days without trying for sex

Truly he went about 10 days before he stopped begging and just took matters into his own hands

(under enough pressure Bokuto become a hard dom and no one can say otherwise)

The entire time he was telling you how pretty you were and how well your pussy takes him and that you had no ‘right’ to tell him he couldn’t have sex

He even gained a new phrase “this pussy belongs to me”

You were going to have to set some things straight once he was done ;)

Iwaizumi

You were on the student council, it felt sacrilegious to think anything but pure thoughts about anyone on the council

(that didn't really stop him)

honestly, from the moment his crush festered he wanted to ruin your little innocent vibe  

You always smiled so sweetly at everyone, and just seemed like a true goody two shoes.

And that point seemed to have been correct when you began to date

Until! The fateful day where his perceived innocent girlfriend pulled a full 180 on him!

Firstly, you had offered, out of the blue, to suck him off in the middle of the movie you were watching.

Second, he asked if you knew how, and you giggled at him with that smile he loved so much

Thirdly, when you did get his dick out, you swirled some of the pre-cum on his tip with your thumb, he started getting a bit suspicious

Lastly, you completely swallowed him down, face pressing on his hip, cheeks hollowed.

That’s when he realized that you did know what you were doing

(that also arouse the thought that you had been with someone else, which was counteracted with the fact that you knew how to suck dick by practicing on hair brushed and popsicles)

((it also helped that you barely had a gag reflex))

Truly trying to put that to the test, dom iwa came right out, grabbing your hair and telling you  to suck harder

And you impressed the man, to say the least

After that he had to fuck you, he really just had too

For the first time, he went with a solid missionary, just to test that waters

He didn’t think anyone's pussy should feel like that, but since you were his it was ok

All was well he was lost in the feeling of your pussy and the deciding moment was when you pulled him against you and started to grind your body onto his

You were putting a whole lot of body into it too, and you were so soft, and unless he wanted to cum early something was going to have to change

So he flipped and changed to doggy style, which made thighs worse???

From there you got tighter and he could see all of the wetness drips from your fold onto the sheets

Yup, you were the one for him

(solidified when he pulled your hair and you moaned like a street whore)

As for the no sex thing, that was a ride

It started when Makki asked you if you were always dripping for iwa

And after a week of no sex, he confessed to letting them on his phone and  watching a recording of one of your nightly escapades and he was sorry

(and he just wanted to show them what they were missing, y’know brag a bit)

That was, and he says the only time, he let you try to dom him

You truly were the most amazing woman in the world

Konoha

( i made him kind of an ass lol sorry)

You wee the girl who sat next to him in class

(not to be mean, but he thought you were a nerd)

You always had your uniform covering everything and you were always playing with your short sleeves

You raised your hand a lot in class, always had a pencil to borrow

He just assumed that you had cobwebs in your pussy

Proven wrong at one of the volleyball teams parties, you had apparently been dragged there by a friend (surprising)

And you both were dragged onto some weird spin the bottle game

The bottle would spring and someone would draw an action from this jar and the two people would have to do it in a bedroom in the house

Seeing as that’’s how fate goes you and him were chosen

A blow-job card was chosen

And he laughed with a friend about how you wouldn’t know what to do

Mistake, that struck a real nerve, was this guy for real?

Oh hell no

Being the baddie you were, you walked to him, grabbed him by the arm, and locked lips, breaking away after a moment you asked if he was ready to go.

Poor boy didn't even respond, he just nodded and stood up

Two minutes in, he knew what he had done

You were blowing him like it would be your last time, it should be illegal to be able to suck someone off that well

And damn you pulled away right before he was going to cum.

And then just left him! Walked out of the closet like nothing had ever happened

That couldn’t be it, he wouldn't let that be it

After two weeks of non-stop begging from the guy you agreed to a date, which led to many dates

Which led to him finally being able to fuck you

God damn, he didn't think it would get better, and it did, it really did.  

You were laying on top of him and grinding your entire body onto him

Dripping all over him and squeezing him like crazy

He was never going to let you go

Now, that same friend from that party seemed very intrigued with your relationship

And he just can't help but tell him about how amazing you were, it just sucks that he did it right in front of you in the middle of lunch

Pussy pass revoked

He didn't think he did anything wrong so he went two whole weeks without any touch and he went crazy

He fell apart and apologized

After he begged enough you gave him the pussy pass back

And now he doesn't do anything to jeopardize it

Terushima

this is gonna sound weird

But

I feel like terushima knows when someone is a good lay

It's like a secret talent of his, he just knows and his radar went off when he saw you

But he thought it was wrong at first considering you were wearing leggings and a huge sweater

Not good fuck material  

But he had to make sure, so he just walked up to you and asked if you were a good fuck

Surprisingly you didn’t punch him in the nuts, instead, you laughed at him and said that he would just have to find out

And that he should at least take you out to dinner first

Adm he took you up it, made it the best damn dinner date he’d ever be on

And you reward him

With what?

The best damn blow-job he’d ever get as long as he lived.

And it fit that to the T

It started with the little licks and swirls, then, you gotta catch the man off guard, and just take his entire dick in your throat

And with that, he was sure he had superpowers

When He came, fairly quick for his taste, you swallowed all of his cum and he was ready to marry you

If he needed to take you on a date for that, he would take you on a date every day for the rest of his life

(not every day) but that's what he did

But eventually, just a blowjob wasn't enough, oh no he knew you had a tight hole

And he knew you were gushing most of the time (ushy gushy my pussy-)

If making him suck the fingers you used to fuck yourself after he came was anything

And you tasted good, really good

He was so ready for it that he let you ride him the whole night

He thought his dick was a]going to fall off, you were just that damn good

It was insane, you were almost using him as a dildo, grinding your clit on the base of his cock

And you looked glorious, he was going to have to talk to you about recording it so he could watch it over and over

Maybe show a few people-

And that's what he did, poor unfortunate soul got the silent treatment for two days before he fell apart

He literally got on his knees and asked for forgiveness

(biggest simp on the planet, but only for you (and your dripping cunt))

He’s sure to never do it again, he’s also sure that if you asked him to step on him he would let you

(and I think he’s the most pussy-whipped)

Ok maybe you didn't fully forgive him until he showed you what his tongue piercing could do, but it was worth every moment.

Atsumu

Honestly, he was dared to sleep with the next girl who walked through the cafeteria door

And that just happens to bring you, miss. I remind the teacher there was homework

(Well he actually wasn’t really sure about that but that's what you looked like and he was already regretting his decision.)

In defense of him, your hair was in a messy bun and you had this teacher's pet aura around you

But he would be damned if he lost this bet to his brother and Suna, oh no

The moment he wa[lked up to your table you knew what was happening, and shut it down immediately

After that, you officially had his attention!

Lucky you!

Unlucky you for the fact that all he wanted to do was get in your pants.

But lucky you again because you could hold this over his head!

But one day you just woke up and chose dick (respectable)

So when atsumu did his daily “c'mon baby, you know you want some” you just stood up, scaring him

(he finally thought you were gonna kill him)

Instead, you grabbed him by the dick, literally grabbed his dick through his pants, and tugged him all the way to the roof

“Hey-hey baby, no need to be that rough”

“Shut up, Miya. pants down, now”

That was not where he thought that was going but he isn't going to complain.

“You want your dick wet so bad? Here you go!”

Honestly, he could die happy.

Not so sound gross, but you were slobbering around his cock like a pro. Now that left the thought, you had to have done this before.

You had hands on the back of his thighs pushing him further down your throat, hollowed cheeks, damn he should’ve done this was sooner

He was gonna cum-

And your mouth was gone, your hand was jerking him but that wasn't nearly as nice

“Lay back.”

Yes, yes he will do that. If what’s about to happen is what he thinks is about to happen  

And now your pussy was above his face. Ok a little detour but he’ll take it

You were literally dripping onto his face while he got to work, and you went back to sucking him off

Yup, heaven.

After you both came he made sure to tell you that that had to happen again.

And it did, you rode him to hell in the hole to heaven, and he couldn't help himself from telling the entire volleyball team about how good you were

Now he really didn't think about what would happen if the news got back to you

But he definitely didn't think that meant a whole week of nothing

Well nothing for him, you made sure to send him more than a few videos of rigid dildos and fingering yourself

A week of torture, but when it was finally over he had an entirely new folder of spanking material

he was sure about who he told about your escapades, as in he told himself and Osamu if he just wanted to vent

poor guy was paranoid now

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[whosjunglejim4322]

SMUT, collegecrush!au, tattooed Johnny agenda, bff Jaehyun! And brief mentions of him being drunk, all the yearning, Johnny is whipped for you but you didn't hear that from me, he's got a big dick, brief dry humping, finger fucking and pussy eating bc....I'm a whore, sensual fucking cause he thinks ur precious teehee ngl I have a crush on this Johnny

A month ago, if someone would have told you that Johnny Seo would be watching The Matrix trilogy with you while sitting on your living room floor under a blanket that he'd brought to the routine occasion - you would have thought them to be crazy. Insane, even.

And not because Johnny is unpleasant to be around, quite the contrary. Despite his popularity he's one of the most levelheaded, endearing frat boys - for lack of better term - you've ever met, and you also happen to think of him as a superhero of sorts, always there the moment you need him.

It had been a party, where the two of you met - sort of. Not shocking, in the least bit, but also not the first place you would have planned to be on a Saturday night. Jaehyun, being the stubborn and puppy dog eyed best friend that he is, insisted that you come along with him - that he'd keep you glued to his side all night long.

Of course, in proper Jaehyun fashion, three tequila shots in and a game of beer pong had him barely cognitive and passed out on some ones bathroom floor within two hours. The house was big, but filled with people and between trying to lift him up while he giggled about your hair smelling so good and sweet - you also feared anyone seeing him like this. Even if it weren't the first time.

His presence spooked you, at first, a light tap on your shoulder from somewhere behind you just as you attempted to lift your aforementioned best friend for what felt like the hundredth time that night. You nearly dropped him back on his head, if it weren't for quick hands and a sturdy grip on the drunk boys slumped shoulders.

He looked like sunshine, honey skin and dyed blonde hair with the dark roots growing out - a soft, comforting smile across the smooth planes of his face. Dark ink peaked out from where the collar of his shirt had drooped, appearing to be spilling from his shoulder. Your arms felt weaker than before, and embarrassment regarding the situation began to make your skin hot.

"I got him, don't worry," he'd assured with a gentle grin, lifting your bestfriend with an ease you almost wanted to scowl at. His height had been startling too, and not just because you were sitting on someone's bathroom floor. "did you guys drive here?"

You shook your head, a sigh of frustration leaving your lips and slumping your posture as you remembered that you both had walked here. Johnny slung Jaehyuns arm over his broad pair of shoulders, and jerked his chin towards the door, which you opened warily.

"I'll drive you home, it's no problem," his voice was soft, reassuring and you were taken aback. He obviously knew Jaehyun, and you'd never met any of his friends that were so...pleasant. "let's get him to my car first."

It wasn't nearly as painful and humiliating to push past crowds of intoxicated people with Johnny leading the way, as it would have been if it were just you. No one even batted an eye at the way he was dragging Jaehyun like a ragdoll, while the boy grumbled under his breath like a child.

People looked at him, of course. Oh, they looked at him. But not because of his human luggage, and it felt odd to see so many eyes on one person, to realize that his presence has the same effect on everyone else as it did you.

He kept looking back, making sure you were still close behind him, and it wasn't until you were outside in the open that you realized he'd been clinging on to the fabric of your jacket, making sure you didn't stray. Your heart felt like it was bursting open. Focus. You'd thought to yourself.

"That's my car over there, can you open the door for me?"

You jogged towards the sleek, onyx colored SUV that looked like a shadow against the dark bushes, and in just a split second Johnny was behind you, maneuvering Jaehyun into the backseat.

"Mmm...leather." Your best friend's giggle made you all the more grateful for the fact that you hadn't had to do this alone, his cheeks bright red and eyes crescent moons from the way he gleefully grinned. Still, you love him nonetheless.

You pulled your jacket off and prepared to drape it over his body before Johnny stopped you with a gentle hand, shaking his head. "I've got two on, let me."

His jacket probably sufficed more anyways, a heavy denim that would actually cover most of Jaehyuns body. You thanked him with a shy smile while he closed the door, and headed towards the passengers seat.

This experience had been the beginning, the car ride home that night being one full of conversations - genuine conversations, and he didn't leave once you both arrived at your apartments. Jaehyun snored in the background while the two of you talked, laughed. It was hard to look him in the eyes, to not make it so obvious - it's hard now, too.

Neo and Trinity kiss on the screen in front of you, and you wonder how Johnny sees you. Sure, he's flirty, overtly sometimes, but there's never been a definitive line to mark where the both of you really are on the friendship spectrum. If you even want to call it that.

Every time he touches your cheek or catches you staring, even when you're walking to your classes and his hand graces the small of your waist just before he waves you goodbye - you have to assume that he knows what he's doing - that the tension hasn't ever just been one sided.

His hair is a light chestnut brown now, longer than usual and flopping into his eyes from the sides. It's unfair, how he doesn't even have to try. The sharp slope of his nose, the bow of his lips, even the elegance of his neck and jaw. That awe from when you first saw him, has never left.

Not to mention that you often times forget he has so many tattoos whenever he decides to wear short sleeves, the art inky and stark against his olive skin - riveting down from his biceps like silk, cascading over his thick forearms and ending at his knuckles.

You turn your attention back to the laptop upon realizing that you've gotten caught up, heart still rattling underneath your ribcage. It makes it worse, the fact that the heat of his body is so close, that you can smell the scent of dryer sheets clinging onto the fabric of his shirt along with the natural allure of his skin.

"Why were you staring at me?" His breath is warm against the shell of your ear and you shudder, surprised by his sudden closeness and the timbre of his voice. You turn to face him with an incredulous expression, feigning innocence - but he makes it damn near impossible with the way he's looking at you - a dark eyebrow raised and a sly smile playing on his heart shaped lips.

"I was looking at your tattoos, cause - uhm, I forget they're underneath your clothes sometimes." You confess, and his knee knocks against yours underneath the blanket.

"Mmhm, so you think about what's under my clothes?" He teases, and takes pride in the way your eyes glower at him, a scoff leaving your mouth. It's hard to be annoyed when he's so vibrant, right here in front of you.

"Just the art, this one's my favorite." Eager to not have the pressure on you anymore, you reach out to grasp his wrist - not realizing how deeply of a need you've had all this time to do so, until you're tracing the flower that's decorating the top of his hand.

In hindsight, it's a bold move - but you can't go back now, not when he's staring down at you so fondly, scooting closer and placing his hand in your lap while you admire his body art.

"Yeah? Why's it your favorite?" He asks, genuinely curious. He nudges your shoulder with his when he sees the shy smile spreading across your lips, your skin hot to the touch. His comfort level has you less nervous than you were before, and the whole thing feels oddly natural, being so close together.

"I don't know, it just suits you. Your hands are so big, and the little vines looping around your knuckles really makes them look...delicate."

You don't dare look up, not when you realize his chest is rising and falling faster than it was before, just like yours is as you spread his fingers out and play with the digits, his face just inches above yours, voice warm in your ear.

"Second favorite." It's not a demand but it's not exactly a request either, and there's a safety in the energy pulsating around you both - mutual, rippling like a current through your bones.

Your eyes deliberately trail up the length of his long arm, scanning, and your fingertips press against the belly of the dragon that wraps around his bicep, sinewy tail tapering off just below his elbow. You've secretly admired this one for a long time, sneaking glances whenever you can. He turns more towards you just the slightest bit, and the closeness begins to make you feel dizzy.

"Your hands are soft."

This time, you can't not look at him, belly filled with a need to see his face, to save the memory of his features so up close in the back of your mind. However, once you do, look up at him - you almost wonder how you'll be able to handle it at all, his amber eyes boring into you as if he's trying to read your thoughts.

"So is your skin." Is what you manage to reply, willing yourself not to look at his soft, inviting mouth - afraid you'll give yourself away. You feel something stroke the side of your cheek and it takes you a second before realizing he's touching you, apparently giving yourself away isn't an issue. You feel like you're being set ablaze.

"Is it really just the tattoos, you think of?" You're not imagining things, he's definitely moving closer - you can smell the starbursts that he ate earlier still sweet on his breath, the wrappers crumpled on the coffee table next to the laptop.

It's all settling in, the realization that this hasn't been just you, fantasizing and daydreaming about someone who hasn't even realized how his natural charm has made you feel.

You're afraid to speak, so you shake your head as a response to his question, the atmosphere thickening impossibly now that he's cupping your chin between his fingers, the tips of your noses almost touching. You've placed your palm against his knee without even realizing it, steadying yourself.

"I've wanted to kiss you since the day we met," he confesses, dark eyebrows furrowed as if he's restraining himself, waiting. "is this...is this okay?" Your lower belly flutters, and you're almost afraid to move, to change anything about this moment and the way it is right now.

"Me too. I've wanted to kiss you, I mean." You breathe out, and now your lips are ghosting against each other, a moment of hesitation that feels both infinitesimal and fleeting. "It's more than okay." A heartbeat passes and he presses his mouth against yours, so pillowy soft that you gasp, surprised.

It's just a second, that he pulls away to look down at you, and your expression is so heavenly - so hazy and delicate. He kisses you again and this time your lips begin to overlap, from top to bottom, suckling and getting used to the feel of each other. He's still holding your face, but with both hands now, thumbs on your cheeks and fingers wrapping around to the nape of your neck.

You cling onto him like you've no other choice, desperate to have him underneath your fingertips, reminding you that this is really happening and that your mind isn't just creating very vivid daydreams. He pulls you closer and you grip onto his broad shoulders.

"Mm, you're so sweet," he lilts between his kisses, tone somewhere between bliss and desire. You're not expecting to be so worked up already. "even better than I imagined." His tongue slips past yours, wet and warm and it's like your body is being put on vibrate.

He senses this too, with the way you're almost in his lap, breath unsteady. His arms are around your waist before you can move any further, pulling you on top of him and locking you to his torso.

"Johnny." You strain, as the feeling within you becomes overwhelming, craving his touch, his mouth. It doesn't help that he's being so vocal, as well - the sounds sweeter, and more desperate than you'd expect from him. It has something feral igniting within you.

What shocks you the most is that he's already hard underneath you, and the thought alone is enough to have you keening further against his chest, tightening your thighs' grip around his trim waist- not to mention you can feel him snug against your ass, material of your shorts so thin it's palpable when he twitches.

So, naturally, your whine is petulant when his mouth departs from yours, his plush lips a deep blush, matching his cheeks in their hue. He's just as worked up as you if his erratic breathing and the way that he grasps onto your sides is anything to go by, and you shouldn't be as surprised as you are about it.

"You...have no idea," he pants, smoothing his thumb over your bottom lip. "how badly I've wanted you. In so many ways."

Your heart feels like it's attempting to burst through your chest in an effort to be closer to him, his sharp eyes lowly lidded but fierce in their honesty. You take this brief moment to touch his face, his soft cheeks and the smooth, taut ridge of his jaw. It all feels too real to be a dream. This must be reality.

"I'm only stopping because, well I like you," it's hard to pinpoint if the trembling of his hands is fueled from his desire or his nerves, but either way he's got your rapt attention. You doubt anyone could look away from those eyes.

"I like you a lot and...fuck, I don't want to do anything you aren't comfortable with or...sure about. Because I'm sure about you." He finishes, sincere and stoic while holding you against him. You feel like you're floating.

"I have a really big crush on you, Johnny," you kiss his mouth and he smiles against it, humming in contentment. Suddenly, your nerves are replaced by pure adrenaline. "and I like you a lot, too." When you pull back from his lips with a soft smack, his expression causes your skin to burn hot.

"So it'd be okay if I did..." he tilts your head to the side, and a flurry of goosebumps descend across your skin, his breath warm against your throat. "this?" A kiss, soft but purposeful, is placed there, and you shudder.

All you can do is nod in affirmation, heartbeat in your ears among other places. Your fingers run through the hair at the nape of his neck while his mouth begins placing warm, wet pecks against yours, and his body lurches when your thighs tighten around his torso.

It only manages to work you up further, of course, brain already high off of the fact that Johnny likes you back...in fact...he truly is as good as you've always thought, sweet and kind and nasty, groaning when you rut your hips against him.

"Baby, you're shaking." He mouths against your jaw, wondrously and laced with an undertone of hunger. His strong arms hold you tight, eyes softening when he looks down at you and realizes just how worked up you really are.

"I just want you really bad, Johnny." Your body emphasizes your point, chest pressed against the firmness of his, nipples hard behind your shirt. He can practically feel you throbbing.

It's a little fucked up, honestly.

No ones ever had him this head over heels, he feels himself melting against you, your voice sweet and syrupy, dripping with this ache just for him and he's losing it.

"Yeah?" He muses, the wide palm of his hands sliding down the curve of your back, and over the swell of your ass where it's planted so firmly atop of him - massaging you there. "Where do you want me, honey?"

The pet names have you too worked up, you really could get off of anything right now and he's tracing the back of your thighs now, swirling his soft fingertips around, leaving a wake of searing heat in their path.

"Want you everywhere, just - mmph." This kiss interrupts you, bruising in it's intensity and he cups your face softly as a silent apology despite the fact that you're letting out small coos of satisfaction, tugging at the ends of his messy hair.

For a second you feel like you're being lifted, not realizing he's just moved you both to the couch until your head is resting against the cushions, inky arms caging your body against the length of his. He groans when you palm at his stomach, touching and rubbing his sides and then the broad of his back.

All the while his free hand, the one that's not attached to the arm holding himself up, does some exploring of its own, palming your breasts through your shirt and squeezing with just enough pressure to have you arching into his touch.

Automatically, your legs wrap around his middle and your heels dig into the dimples of his back, and his hips pivot downwards to nestle right in between yours. You're both instantaneously struck by the sensation of your centers meeting, his length jerking inside of his pants, your clit throbbing in yours.

"Gonna touch you..." nimble fingertips dance over the skin of your inner thighs. "...here, is that okay?" The warmth of his hand cups your sex and now you're positive that wetness has begun to soak through your underwear, senses gone haywire from the way he's rubbing you, up and down.

"Mhm that's - yes, that's okay." You pant, desperate to feel him as well and reaching in between your bodies in an attempt to grasp at him - his height doesn't make this as easy as you thought and your pliant hands meet just his navel, the faintest of happy trails soft against the skin here.

He switches to his thumb now, instead of the heel of his palm to rub you through your shorts. He searches, for a short moment, finding what he's looking for and pressing the pad of his finger against your bud.

He kisses your whimper, shifting his hips and shuffling upwards just a smidge so that your hands can reach his hard cock. You have to maneuver your arm underneath his but it's working out fine so far, your eyes widening once you feel the twitch of his length.

"Oh." You gasp, expecting to have felt it all while you were on his lap, but missing by a longshot. He's big, bigger than anticipated and you're a bit too flustered as you follow it's bulge through his sweats. He groans your name, and you might be short circuiting.

"You're so hard...and b-big, Johnny you're really big." The incredulity of your voice only has his hunger growing, threatening to swallow him whole. In one breath your hands are pulled from him, pinned above your head with his gentle fingers barring your wrists.

"You're so fuckin' cute," he professes with an awed lilt, moving his hips in circles between yours - his shaft, heavy and thick, nudged against your lips. "wanna make you feel good...mm, wanna make you cum."

Butterflies threaten to flutter into your throat and suffocate you, his breath warm and sweet against your cheek before he's nipping at your earlobe. You feel like you're high, spinning yet completely grounded by his weight above you, against you.

"I want you Johnny, want you to fuck me." You try to turn your head, bashful of the way you're being so shameless but he's not having it, keeping his gaze on your every expression, trying not to lose his sanity when you grind yourself against him. Your voice, petulant and needy, is enough to have him at his wits end alone.

"I will baby, I will," he promises sweetly, accentuating his point by letting go of your wrists, and using one of his hands to pry your thighs open. He rolls his agile hips against you and the friction has you reaching out to grasp at his waist - trim and firm underneath your fingertips. "just gotta get you ready first."

He sits back on his haunches and you pout about the lack of content, his pleased grin a beacon as he hooks his fingers into your waistband, pulling your shorts off your hips and past your thighs - till they're at your ankles, and it feels surreal when he throws them somewhere behind the couch, too eager for his own good.

You're brought back to current reality when his big hands caress the tops of your thighs, before creeping down into the soft crease where they're shut closed in embarrassment, and pulling them apart.

He outwardly marvels and you wonder if he can see you clench, the moment overwhelmingly intimate with the way he's staring directly at the wet spot that’s soaked through the crotch of your panties. He takes only a moment to reach out and press his thumb against the dampness, balls tightening with the need to release each time you whimper or gasp.

With his cock leaking in his pants, he wastes no time, taking the flimsy piece of fabric off so fast you don't even have time to by shy about him seeing you naked and glistening in front of him. Furthermore, you don't think anyone could feel even the least but bad about themselves if he looked at them like this - slack jawed, and starved.

"Fuck...you're so beautiful," two long, inky fingers formed into the shape of a V, spread your lips open and then he's moving further away - no, scooting down onto his stomach, and suddenly his breath is a warm puff against your most sensitive parts. "so wet for me, hmm?"

You're not sure you can look away, too enraptured by the visual stimuli that's correlating with the circling of your swollen clit. You want to cry, a little bit. Scream, maybe. He's so beautiful you can't help but to reach out, running your fingers through the front of his chestnut hair and then his eyes are piercing through you like the shock of ice water.

Your body seems to register the feeling before you can process the sight by itself, back bowing off the couch, hips bucking. His hot, wet tongue licks at the hood of your clit, starting slow and picking up pace when you start to squirm. The blossoms painted across his skin decorate the arms that hold you down while his pillowy lips envelop the bud, suckling lewdly.

"O-oh, oh fu-mmm." You're already blubbering, lost and falling into the sensation of everything all at once. You've no doubt that he's had years of experience but this, you're not sure you've felt pleasure like this before.

"Feels good?" He mumbles between the flick of his tongue, hands traveling up the length of your body to grip your waist, kneading your skin. You almost laugh at the question, assuming your trembling body and the way you're involuntarily bucking against his mouth would suffice as an answer. Still, you humour him.

"Mmhm, feels- ohh, mhm feels good." Your voice is barely there, strained and whiny but he feeds off of your every utterance as if it's something he so desperately needs. The smacking between your legs becomes louder and like a magnet, you're drawn to the sight again, coil in your belly tightening impossibly.

He's a muss of hair, the dark strands tickling your thighs when his head moves from side to side. Your thighs attempt to clamp shut but then he's looking up at you again - purposeful in the way he maintains eye contact while he dives down and licks a stripe over your entrance.

You're not going to last long, and he knows this, from every twitch and squirm and whimper - he's preparing for your demise, humming in contentment while the lewd sounds of slickness continue.

He slips a finger inside of you, and then another once he realizes how soaked you are, and this proves to be the beginning of the end. You grip onto his forearms, needing to be grounded to something while he buries the digits inside of you, curling in a come hither motion.

It's all beyond what you thought pleasure could be, it's violet and red and all things euphoric behind your eyelids and the sound of his pleased groans are what finally have you giving out, melting against the couch cushions.

You're not sure if you're making any sound at all, honestly. It comes so quick, violent in it's force and you're hazy headed - tears welling in your eyes from the way he's still massaging you, licking you while your walls squeeze and contract around his fingers.

"That's it baby, mmm, let go."

The velvet voice is warm against your sensitive sex and you're still twitching as you peel your eyes open to peer down between your legs and see him there, staring up at you like you're the sun, slowing his movements while the aftershock of your orgasm seeps through you.

His knuckles are buried to the hilt inside of you and he pulls them out slowly, petal pink lips kissing your clit gently, adoringly. With your brain still foggy and embarrassment no longer present, you grab his wrist, bringing his slick soaked fingers to your mouth and wrapping your lips around them.

He moans an expletive and then he's hovering over you again, watching with a soaring heart as you suckle your juices clean from his digits, lashes fluttering when you open your eyes.

For once in his life, he's speechless. You have to pull him down to kiss you in order to breaks him from his reverie and it's now that he's realizing how excruciatingly hard he is. He doesn't remember the last time he's ever been this worked up without his dick even being touched for more than five minutes.

It's safe to say he's taken by surprise when your hand slips into his bottoms and briefs to palm him this time, and his body lurches against you while a desperate sound bellows in his throat.

"Baby." he coos, relishing in the softness of your palm, the difference in size of his own. He wants to protest when the intense bliss of it is gone, momentarily, only to feel your fingers attempting to pull his sweats down.

You're still buzzing from your orgasm but you've never been more positive about something; about someone. Your whole body feels as though it can't be satiated, not until you have all of him after having such a sweet taste.

"Please, now, want you now." You nibble on his bottom lip and he has to pull himself away or else he'll get too caught up in your mouth by itself, but he's on a mission - searching for his wallet and scrambling for it when he sees the leather square sitting on the floor.

The tips of your fingers and toes tingle with a mixture of unbearable anticipation, and nerves for what's about to come when he pulls the condom from his wallet and tears the corner of the foil.

It's just a second but it's enough to admire him silently, the twitch of his mouth, the elegance of his fingers even when they're eager and uncoordinated. A part of you feels overcome by the need to be encapsulated by his presence, for his skin to be a permanent silkiness against your lips.

He catches you in the midst of staring and it's like he's glowing from the inside out, pulling his pants down his thick thighs along with his black briefs, kicking them to the floor.

Without thinking your arms are reaching forward, gripping the small of his waist as if to still him, and he pauses at your will. He's cupping your chin with one hand while your fingertips explore underneath the hem of his shirt, and you're grateful that he's allowing you to soak this in, that he's not rushing despite the fact that both of you are like exposed lit wires.

"Here, let me take it off." His arms are reaching behind him before you can blink, biceps curling as he pulls his shirt off of his broad shoulders before discarding it with the rest of his clothing.

Your breath is audible, pupils blown wide while you examine the length of his torso and the permanent shapes that are marked there. Only patches of his honey skin peek through the array of tattoos he's got climbing his sides, over his chest, and you swear you've never seen someone so beautiful.

"Take mine off too." You barely manage to get out, and he's kissing your lips again with a soft sort of fondness, while his knuckles graze your skin and your shirt is being stripped from your body. He's back to kissing you and your naked chests meet for the first time, a fierceness gripping you by the throat when when when the shaft of his cock nudges your clit.

"You're sure about this?" He asks, gentle in the way he strokes your cheek with the back of his hand, pecking your mouth between glances at your nipples where they rub against him. His touch travels to your jaw and down your neck, before he's tweaking the buds between his fingers, and your legs wrap around his middle in an effort to solidify your answer.

"Yes, I'm sure," you run your fingers through his hair. "very sure."

Lips press against your cheek and then you're presented with the sight of him again, bare in front of you, just a few inches away. It's now that you really find the courage to look at him, not expecting to be out of breath and shock stricken once you lay your eyes upon his dick.

It's pretty, as pretty as you knew it had to be; curved just slightly, the tip swollen with arousal and a shade deeper than that of his lips that you've come to have photographically memorized.

You watch with probably more fascination than most while his slim fingers roll the condom onto his length, down the shaft that protrudes with a small vein right in the middle, until it's snug and securing the fact that you and Johnny Seo are about to have sex.

As always, here there right when you need him most, aiding you in forgetting about anything that isn't crucial to right now. His arms are wrapping around your thighs and pulling you closer - your small gasp doesn't go unnoticed.

And then, there's also the way he's looking at you, again. It's like he's compacted every emotion you could feel in a moment like this, and somehow managed to reflect it's opacity back at you through the glimmer of his irises.

You jerk your hips against him and he grins at your urgency, diverting his attention to the space between your legs and holding you steady by the hips with one hand while the other goes to grip his cock.

He levels his pelvis with yours and brings the pink head down to your entrance where it leaks for him, gathering the slickness and smearing it through your folds, around your clit.

His fingers search for yours and suddenly he's interlocking them while you feel the initial stretch of his dick finally entering you, a soft expletive leaving his mouth while he pushes himself into you halfway, peering down with half lidded eyes as a silent affirmation.

Your expression must be as expressive as the soft mewls that involuntarily fall from your lips, and he bottoms out while leaning down to kiss you as he's come to realize that this action is single handedly way more addictive than it should be.

You feel so full it's impossible not whine, and within seconds he's pulling himself out of you nearly all the way - mouth hovering over yours so he can watch your features contort when he sheathes himself back in with a snap of his hips.

With the need to hold on to something becoming incessant, he allows you to throw your arms around his neck while your thighs tremble around him, his hips creating a slow but steady pace that draws lewd sounds from between your bodies with every slow drag of his thick cock.

It's strange, how you provoke such tenderness within him when you shudder and pant beneath him despite the fact that he's barely done anything yet- a juxtaposition to the feral, nagging type of ache that brews in the center of his belly to have you even more a mess.

It's not that he's fairing any better, though. Even you can see that, feel it in the way he keeps his lips on your skin, trying and failing miserably to hold back his groans while your nails create crescent moons on the broad of his back.

"You - f-fuck you feel s-so good." He stutters, and if you could find your words maybe you'd even have the confidence to tease him, but right now all you can comprehend is the feeling in which he's providing, the nudge of his tip so deep inside of you.

"Faster, can you - oh yes, yes." It's like he knows what you want before you get it out all the way, and his tongue is warm against your throat while he obliges your request, furthering your haziness.

You're quick to realize that Johnny is a generous lover. Despite the fact that he's holding himself together on the edge of his coherency, he's already atuned to each tense of your muscles, the strain of sweet sounds you coo in his ear. He uses this as a guide, working his hips skillfully, circling when he pushes himself back in.

The fact that you're sopping wet helps as well, audibly soaked and your walls are taking him in so generously he doesn't know what to do with himself. Your hands are in his hair and tug at the dark strands without thinking, drawing a sweet, serene moan from the back of his throat.

"Mm, feels good?" He asks despite knowing the answer, your countenance painted with the colors of bliss. He peers down in between your bodies and almost regrets it due to the pulse it sends through his groin - threatening to send him over the edge too soon.

But it's a sight too mesmerizing, his entire length disappearing inside of you with an easy glide, his hips colliding with the back of your thighs and your clit waiting to be played with. You're just as taken by the sight, surrounded by only him, inside of you and around you like a life force. Your hands travel over anywhere and everywhere, down to his belly where the muscles flex underneath the painted skin with every thrust.

"So good, you feel s-so good Johnny." You're becoming even more petulant but he doesn't mind, not when you're clinging onto his biceps and mewling his name. He slips his tongue into your mouth while his hands cup the back of your knees, hiking your thighs up higher around his middle.

Your skin burns where he touches, his pace increasing and now you wouldn't be surprised if the neighbors knew exactly what it is that the two of you are doing, skin against skin and coos of pleasure echoing through your small apartment. You have a hard time forming thoughts that make sense.

"M' all the way up there baby," his voice is deceivingly sweet, hips dangerous and borderline ruthless now that you two are drenched in the essence of lust and desire, driven by your need to come undone. "such a sweet pussy."

He means it, too. Maybe that's what makes this all so much more enthralling. From the clench of his taut jaw, to the way his dark eyebrows are furrowed, even the crimson of his lips from the way he's been biting down on them - Johnny is nothing but honest. It's somehow stripped you of the shyness you'd normally be harboring, compelling your mouth to speak without a filter.

"It's all yours, I'm yours."

This seems to spur him on, more than you thought because now he's all but cradling you in his arms, mouthing his words against your lips, not allowing even a centimeter of space to reside between the two of your bodies. It feels whole, complete.

"Mm, yeah sweetheart? Mine. Fuck, you're all mine."

It's a growled statement and you quiver against his solid form, warmed from the inside out like a furnace and set ablaze. You're still sensitive from his mouth but that doesn't change the orb of pressure within your belly, or the waves of pleasure that spread through your thighs and up your spine from the way your clit is rubbing against his pelvis while his cock reaches new depths.

You should've known his mouth would be filthy, and it's really ticking every box you've literally ever needed to be ticked and you're sort of embarrassed by how far gone you are already, properly mewling with your fingers gripping onto his bulged biceps where he uses them to hold himself up.

His face is a sight to behold in itself, as well - plush lips parted, cheeks hot and a shade of deep, ravishing plum. If he weren't steadily hitting that sweet spot inside of you maybe you'd actually be able to keep your eyes open long enough to admire it more - but it's obvious it won't be long until you're unraveling.

He's thankful, in a way. Because you're sighing out sweet words that profess how good he's doing, and he swears that he's never felt anything as good as this. Through and through. You're made for him, wrapped around his being, tight like cellophane and it's silly but this is all he's dreamed of for months.

"Open your eyes sweetheart," his hips stutter at the same time you involuntarily squeeze around the tip of his cock as he goes to seep back into you and you're drawn to the plead of his voice. "let me - fuck, let me be yours, please?"

His voice is honey, coating you in it's sweetness and you're teetering on the edge of your release. It beckons you soothingly, like a siren in the wake of a wave and it doesn't calm when you pull him down to your mouth by the nape of his neck, your shared groans being swallowed by the other. Your thighs are a vice around his waist, keeping him locked against you as he grinds his cock into you.

"You're mine, J-John- oh, oh please." His fingers have reached down in the limited space between your shared skin to rub your clit in circles and you know this is it - mind and body completely encircled by everything he's made of, the scent of his skin and the heat of his body and even the way he says your name.

"Want you to cum for me, please, please cum for me baby." His breath is warm against your ear, a vibration that wracks through all of your senses and your body knows it's coming before you do - instantly under the influence of his begs and pleas.

You're descending, voice nothing but a gasp and an echo of an expletive when the dam inside of you finally bursts - leaving you to tremble like a leaf beneath him while the feeling threatens to consume you inch by inch, nerve by nerve. 

You've all but gone limp, bright dots of light flitting through your vision and you feel his mouth everywhere, like a soft, warm reassurance that he's not going anywhere while you spasm around him.

"Just like that, oh fuck, yeah just like that."

In this place of completeness, you bask in the rise in octave of his usually low timbred voice, in the way he's holding you so firmly in his arms, as if scared to let go and put even an inch of separation between the two of you.

You're still twitching when you feel him throb inside of you, your name a warm whisper against the side of your neck while he pumps himself into you with no real rhythm; filling the condom with spurts of his cum while your fingers gently scratch the back of his scalp, through his hair.

Your breaths are ragged and have only that in common, his weight comforting despite the fact that both of you are in such a fragile state. It all feels surreal, like maybe you’ll wake up soon even with his cock still buried inside of you, half hard. More than anything, it feels right. Apprehension nor guilt nor worry brews underneath your skin, instead overshadowed by pure elation.

Wet pecks travel across your throat like marks of gratitude and your smile is automatic, involuntary.

"I meant it, you know," he's out of breath but concise, palm cupping the side of your face as he makes his way to your mouth and kisses you there, afraid to look you in the eyes. "about...about what I want. About wanting you."

You actually do laugh this time, suddenly outrageously giddy at the words leaving his pretty mouth, mildly entertained by the fact that someone could be almost as oblivious as you are. Almost.

He looks worried for only a split second until you're kissing his face, over his nose and fuchsia cheeks, a feather against the soft autumn ground.

"I meant it too," your voice is light, airy and he swears he'd believe anything you told him, even if it weren't as absolutely resolute as it is right now; your smile against his lips like a seal of promise. He meets your gaze, and everything within him calms, settles.

"I'm yours. And you're mine."

This, he thinks to himself, is all he's wanted to hear since the day you looked up at him with all the stars in your eyes.

Completely worth Jaehyun stealing his Armani denim jacket, honestly.

#eheheheheheheheheh #devil emoji #smirk emoji #debby ryan face #johnny seo #johnny suh #johnny seo x reader #johnny suh x reader #johnny seo x reader smut #johnny suh x reader smut #nct x reader #nct x reader smut #nct 127 #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x reader smut #nct #nct johnny #nct 127 johnny #nct johnny x reader #johnny seo scenario #johnny suh scenario #johnny suh imagine #johnny seo imagine #nct imagine #nct 127 imagine #johnny seo x reader imagine #johnny suh x reader imagine #nct smut #nct 127 smut #college au

[inf3stissumam]

For the prompt thing could I request 14 and 17 with Mary Goore? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Number 14! I'll reblog with 17 when its finished, sorry this got so long!

The dive bar you bartended at was home to many rough, grungy, and loud bands that came in and out regularly and drew in rowdy crowds full of all the misfits and goth kids from the nearby college. There were a few local bands that played at the bar almost every week and you came to recognize them, you even became a fan of one of them. Their lead singer was hard to ignore with his pallid complexion, cheeks and eyes hollowed with black makeup, and his signature blood splattered face; not to mention the fact that he had the best metal voice of any of the bands you had ever heard play there. You had to admit that the nights that his band played left you easily distracted and made your job a bit more difficult, albeit much more enjoyable. You were always nodding along to his music as you poured drinks and although you couldn’t pick out any of the lyrics or the titles there was always one song that started with a slow guitar melody and you loved it and looked forward to it every time. You came to learn the lead singer’s name after a few months when he started coming to the bar after shows to indulge in a single beer. The industry was not forgiving, and you presumed it was because he didn’t have enough money to splurge on more than one drink – you always gave him the employee discount out of appreciation, but he didn’t know it. You had offered him a drink on the house, but he wouldn’t accept – you learned that night that he was quite stubborn. You also learned his name that night: Mary Goore. You read it off of his credit card. He never stuck around the bar for long, he would make his rounds to talk to all the patrons to promote his band or to find someone to go home with. After months of watching him do the same after every performance, you realized that it wasn’t just because he was looking for a quick fuck or to gain popularity through one night stands, but rather that he did it because he wouldn’t have a place to stay otherwise.

One night the bar was unusually empty – it was the homecoming football game at the local college which left only a few straggling, unamused tourists hanging about the bar while Mary performed. The patrons cleared out shortly after the set ended and you watched the band pack up their equipment as you wiped down the bar. Mary seemed a little lost, not knowing how to carry himself without being able to do his usually schmoozing. When the band was mostly finished, you watched as Mary made his way to the bar and began pouring a large glass of draft beer, setting it down right when Mary slumped in bar stood looking upset. It couldn’t have been easy to give so much to your art and performances with so few people paying attention and no money to show for it. You admired him for it.

“Mary. It’s on the house tonight, don’t argue with me.” You said to him firmly, prepared for his stubborn refusal.

But it never came. He just nodded, keeping his head and gaze down and dragging the glass towards him silently. He drained half the glass in one gulp. You reached a hand out to set it on the bar near him so he knew you were speaking to him.

“Mary? Is everything okay?” You hoped you weren’t crossing a line. This was pretty much the first time you had spoken more than a word to each other, despite seeing each other almost weekly. He didn’t respond, didn’t even look up as he finished his beer quickly. You knew that Mary needed a place to stay that night – there was no one left in the bar for him to ask.

“Look I know we don’t know each other well but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone.” You lean your head down to speak to him, not wanting to embarrass him or seem patronizing. He looks up and finally meets your eyes, eyebrows crooked like he was confused and shocked that anyone had noticed him and worried about him.

“Do you need a place to stay?” You asked him. “I live just around the block and there’s no reason for you to have to sleep in your car tonight. Just… stay with me? You can have the bed and I can sleep on the couch just… you never know what will happen at night around here and I just couldn’t sleep knowing that you didn’t have a safe place to sleep.” You rambled, knowing there was a high possibility you sounded like a creep. You just genuinely wanted to help him, you respected his craft so much and wanted to show that to him, unlike so many other people who frequented the bar and took advantage of his situation.

“Yeah… okay,” he mumbled, eyes on his fidgeting hands. “But please, I won’t let you sleep on the couch. That’s my only request, its your house you deserve to enjoy your own bed.”

You didn’t push it, knowing how stubborn he was. But later that night when you got back to your place and ready for bed you asked Mary once more if he wanted the bed, knowing it must have been a while since he had a comfortable place to sleep.

He said no, but he sat on the bed while he waited for you as you got ready for bed in the bathroom. When you were finished, he had already fallen asleep on your bed.

As you moved him slightly to tuck him under the covers, he reached two arms out, grabbing at you like a child. You were endeared and your heart tugged the way it had all those times you heard him play your favorite song. So, you joined him.

When he woke up with his back pressed to your chest and your arms wrapped around him, he didn’t even argue when you asked him to stay in bed.

“God, you don’t know how many times I’ve imagined waking up like this with you…”

#mary goore #mary goore fic #repugnant #mine

[weeb-stomper]

Bakugou KatsukixFem!Reader - Desk Work

Word Count: 2,170

~Hello~

*In surprised old man voice* “It’s been 57 years.....”

No seriously, sorry for not posting in so long! Art block is a bitch :( But I’m back! I have something in the works that’s taking way longer than I thought it would, so I busted this out over the last few days just to get things goin again on the ol’ writing blog :) hope you enjoy, NSFW below cut

special thank you to @wootato and @kat-unzel for beta reading this so many times. Also tagging @cupcake-rogue because she went out of her way to mention something I wrote in a post the other day and she made me feel all UwU-soft :)

Tagging all my friends cause ha

--------------------------------------------------

     Patrolling with Dynamight had been difficult at first. He was abrasive and stand-offish, a wolfish thirst for power kept him from having many friends and the calculated strength he brought to every fight was admittedly a bit scary. Civilians were equal-parts likely to ask for his autograph as they were to cross the street when they saw the two of you coming, with the exception of the countless women who would attempt to chat him up throughout your patrols. You couldn’t say you didn’t get it, if you were honest. He was quite attractive, and you’d passed an embarrassing amount of time wondering what those calloused fingers might feel like digging into the meat of your thighs, what that mocking sneer might taste like when it melted into your mouth…But considering the cold way he brushed off his adoring public, those fantasies remained as they were. Fantasies.

     All you could say now was that if you’d had any idea how this day might turn out, you would have worn cuter underwear.

     You were sat in Bakugou’s lap, your back against his chest and his feet hooked around your ankles, prying your knees open so wide your hips hurt. You wondered in passing where exactly your shorts had gone before a sharp pain at your pressure point erased your thoughts once again, the resulting moan echoing in the stale air of his office. Your jaw ached, Bakugou’s fingers stretching your mouth open so wide you thought your lips might split, his other hand pinching and tweaking your nipple underneath the stretchy material of your hero costume’s top. The taste of his sweat flooded your mouth, his rough fingers smashing your tongue against the sharp edges of your teeth and allowing drool to spill out and run down your chin. His breath was hot against your neck as he sucked another mark onto the sensitive skin just below your ear, the overwhelming scent of burnt caramel filling your nose.

     “C’mon sweetheart, where’s all those stupid jokes now?” Bakugou hissed against your ear, hand dropping from your chest to rub harsh circles against your clit. “You were so fuckin annoying on patrol today, I thought for sure you’d be a good girl for me.”

     A choked sob wracked your shoulders as his pace picked up, the rumble of his manic laughter reverberating through your ribs completely overwhelming your senses: Taste, smell, hearing, feeling, he was everywhere on you at once and it was just too much. And yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from writhing against him, wordlessly pleading for more. Your head spun, growing more and more hazy as his ministrations continued, dragging ragged moans and whines from your lungs against your will. If he’d just let you cum once, if he could show you that kindness, you’d do anything.

     Your head tilted towards the door of his office in the far corner of the room, noting with a cracked whimper that he hadn’t even bothered to lock it before he’d set on you. You felt him smile against your shoulder as his eyes followed yours, a pang of panic ringing in your head a split second before he sank two fingers inside of you. A guttural moan poured from your lips, your back bowing against him as he began working you over.

     “Heh...you finally noticed? Took ya long enough, sweetheart. You’re dumber than I thought.” He chuckled, feeling you clench around his fingers at his harsh words. “You like that, huh? Then why don’t ya beg for me, sweetheart?”

     A fresh torrent of drool dripped past your lips as Bakugou finally pulled his hand from your mouth, fingers still connected to your lips by a nearly-invisible strand of saliva. Swallowing back as much as you could, you worked your jaw open and closed, easing some of the built up tension there. It had been painful, but you couldn’t help but miss the taste of him. An all consuming sense of emptiness mixed into your lust clouded mind when his other hand trailed up from between your legs, and you let out a low whimper at the loss. If he kept up like this, you were sure you’d pass out. His hands settled on your hips, gently urging you off his lap and turning you to face him.

     He remained slumped in the chair, a wide grin showed the now familiar sharp canines at the edges of his smile. Half lidded eyes raking down your face, trailing across the swelling marks that framed your neck on either side before skipping down to settle between your legs, heightening the feeling of your own slick rolling down your thighs, and his breathing faltered for a moment. It was humiliating, standing half naked and wrecked in front of your boss like some fucked out groupie, and your hands subconsciously drifted to the hem of your top, knotting into the elastic material as you shifted anxiously in front of him. Risking a glance, you noticed the strained tent of his pants. Even through the thick fabric of his hero costume you could tell he was big and, you realized with a surge of pride, that he wanted you. A vicious grin stretched your abused lips.

     Bakugou was silent as you sank to your knees between his legs, his smirk falling as you slid your hands up his muscled thighs, looking up at him through tear spattered lashes with wide, innocent eyes as you worked his belt undone. The softness of your touch left him frozen, his head tipping back against the seat when you finally tugged down his waistband to free his cock. Flattening your tongue, you licked a long strip up the underside of him, drinking in the loud groan that slipped past his lips. Those hands you’d quickly grown addicted to twitched, moving to tangle in your hair, but you slapped them away. He growled as you continued taunting him, placing small kitten licks and sloppy kisses against his member and relishing the needy way he tried to push into your mouth whenever you strayed too close to the head.

     “I don’t beg for shit.” Your voice was hoarse but confident. You were playing a dangerous game and you knew it, but seeing him all riled up from your teasing was such a power trip that you couldn’t resist.

     Your stomach dropped as your eyes slid up to Bakugou’s face, meeting his gaze for the first time since before he’d closed the door. His lips were pulled back in an animalistic sneer, glaring down at you with half-lidded eyes. The furious crimson staining his cheeks did nothing to soften his expression, like it might have were this literally any other situation. A small giggle tumbled from your mouth despite the warning written plainly on his face. Ya, you’d worked him up. 

     Big mistake.

     His hand shot into your hair, gripping tightly at the roots and guiding your head to him while the other hand held his cock steady. He shoved himself sloppily against your lips, smearing precum across your mouth and cheeks. You gasped as his hold on your hair shifted, a burning pain exploding across your scalp, and he seized the opportunity to force his way past your swollen lips and bottom out in your mouth. Tears pricked your eyes once again at the new sensation as his now-free hand shifted into your hair to maneuver your head along his length. 

     “Keep runnin your mouth, sweetheart.” Bakugou snarled, slamming himself against the back of your throat and making you gag against the intrusion.

     He shuddered, rough hands cementing you in place against him. Your eyes widened, a reflexive wave of panic sang through your veins as the seconds stretched on, your nails digging deep into the tops of his legs and a hazy tingling the edges of your mind as the lack of oxygen made itself known. You hollowed your cheeks around him, doing your best to work your tongue against his shaft and dropping a hand between your legs to give some much-needed attention to your neglected core. The feeling was euphoric, the tension building inside you feeling more and more unbearable as Bakugou’s moans mingled with the small whimpers escaping around his cock until your shoulders were shaking. Pins and needles erupted across your skin as your orgasm crashed over you, your shoulders folding forward as you slumped against him, thighs twitching as you rolled your hips into your hand.

     He tore himself from your mouth with a stuttering groan, ignoring the way you coughed and sputtered for air as he rose from his seat, pulling you onto unsteady feet. Spinning you around quickly, he planted a hand between your shoulders and shoved you down against the desk in front of you. The cool wood felt good against your heated skin and you relaxed against the surface. You clutched the edges of the fine wood for support as you indulged in your peak, savoring the lingering muscle twinges and blissed out fog still wrapping your mind. It was only when you felt something hard press against your entrance that you came to your senses, managing to slur out a ‘wait’ before he sank into you to the hilt, immediately pulling you undone again. You almost screamed, patches of white popping in your vision as he began thrusting into you wildly, writhing in painful ecstasy as he hit that sweet spot inside of you over and over again. The sound of that malicious laughter cut filled your ears once again 

     “Fuck, baby, you feel so good around me.” He groaned, planting a hard slap against your ass. “Keep making those cute little noises for me, ok?”

     You were being too loud, you knew, but you couldn’t stop the salacious moans and whimpers from bubbling past your lips between mindless praises and begs. Dignity was a forgotten concept at that moment. You couldn’t care less if someone walked in, saw you rocking back into his Bakugou’s thrusts like the pathetic, desperate little thing you felt like, or heard the way you mewled and cried for your boss to fuck you till you couldn’t breath. All that matter was chasing the high that Bakugou gave you, the stretch in your walls as he used you completely for himself.

     The breath was again stolen from your lungs as he slammed down on top of you, pressing your chest so hard against the desk you could feel your ribs creak. His rhythm was growing sloppy, hands groping you wherever he could reach as he neared his own climax slipping beneath your shirt to dig into the burning flesh of your waist. A sudden desire erupted in your lusty mind, and you lifted your head, trying in vain to communicate with the man above you. He let out a frustrated growl that reverberated against your back, threading his fingers into your hair and jerking your head to the side enough to look you in the face.

     “What the hell do you want, sweetheart? Spit it out!” He demanded, carmine eyes glued to your bruised lips.

     “I’m on the pill!” You sobbed, voice no more than a cracked whine.

     You shuddered at the wolfish grin that split his face as he processed your words, releasing your hair and digging his fingers into your waist hard enough to bruise.

     “You wanna be my little slut? All filled and dripping with my cum?”

     You nodded frantically, struggling to match him when his pace picked up.

     His eyes darkened. “Then say please.”

     You didn’t hesitate. How could you?

     “Katsuki, please!”

     That was it. He hugged you tight against his chest as he finished inside of you, painting your insides with thick ropes of cum, thrusting into you shallowly as he rode out his high, the immense feeling of fullness bringing you to your own peak once again. You went completely limp against the desk, letting out a sharp wail as tremors took over your body once again. It was the most deliciously overwhelming thing you’d ever experienced, completely blotting out your vision for a few seconds and cancelling out everything except the feeling of him still buried inside of you.

     Eventually, the two of you separated, Bakugou tucking himself neatly back into his pants before crossing the room to retrieve clean clothes from the small cabinet in the corner opposite the door. Rather than right yourself, you slid to the floor behind the desk. The twinges in your legs hadn’t completely subsided, but the cold air of the room was starting to become an issue as you realized again that you had no idea where Bakugou had thrown your shorts earlier. Your eyes trailed lazily around the room, briefly appreciating the sight of a now-shirtless Bakugou before grazing past the open door.

     OPEN DOOR!?

     Your eyes darted back to Bakugou, who was now staring at the door with a mixture of horror and shock. You couldn’t help but laugh, slumping back against the desk.

     “Jeanist is gonna be so mad at us.”

@kat-unzel @wootato @sawamooora @honeyyandere @anxietyplusultra @redpandaramblings @krystalwithakay @dynamightslittlehotpocket @spooky-all-year-round @nkjktk @cupcake-rogue

#baku #bakugo oneshot #bakugou #mha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugo #mha bakugo #my hero academia #my hero academia one shot #reader insert #female reader #female reader insert #bnha #mha #bnha fanfic #mha fanfiction #fanfiction #dom baku #best jeanist #kacchan #fem sub #male dom #anime #bakugou x y/n #boku no hero academia #self insert #bnha x reader #mha x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugo fanfiction

[fanfoolishness]

A Warrior’s Death (The Mandalorian)

Set immediately following the events of Chapter 8: The Redemption.  

Din Djarin was alive.  The child was safe.   The Imps were vanquished.  He and the child were now a clan of two.�� ...So then why was it so hard to breathe?

Angst, PTSD, blood/injury trigger warning, found family.  ~1700 words.

Now with art for extra feels!

***

The rocks and lava fields of Nevarro fell away beneath them as the Razor Crest ascended.  The child sat in his lap, curled against his cuirass, exhausted by the ordeal they had both survived.  Far below, Din could just barely make out the small cairn he had left behind.  A little higher and clouds surrounded them, vanishing the land.

They cleared the atmosphere and Din set the ship on autopilot in a high orbit.  He knew the Imperial presence had been destroyed, but he still felt uneasy keeping the ship planetside after such a narrow escape.  Especially with what had happened in the covert --

He abruptly got to his feet, cradling the child.  He needed to tend to him, needed to make sure he was all right after everything.  Carefully he carried the drowsy child down the ladder and to the cramped sleeping area.  He set the little one down on his own bed, bunching up the thin blanket to pad the area.  

Din knelt beside him, ignoring the dull pain in his head and body.  His head still pounded.  Bacta had saved his life, but he knew how close it had been.  It would be at least a week before his body could forget an injury that severe.

The child blinked up at him.  “How are you, kid?” Din asked into the silence.  

The kid tilted his head, ears quivering faintly.  He let out a soft sound, then slowly outstretched his hands, reaching up to Din.  There were a few small burns on those tiny green fingers, little areas where the skin was slightly reddened.  To his relief Din saw no blisters or deeper wounds.  Still, though, the way the baby grimaced slightly when Din touched them tore at him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Din murmured.  “Here.”  He reached to the medikit stored beneath the bunk, pulling out a vial of bacta cream.  He slipped off one glove and dipped a calloused fingertip in the ointment.  “Can I see?”

The baby regarded him with those large, intelligent eyes, and reached toward him.  Din dabbed a small amount of the cream between the child’s palms, then rubbed them together.  The baby cooed, the sound sweet and bright.

“See?  Feels better, right?” 

The kid stared at him, mouth falling open in a small smile, then clapped his hands together without a flinch.

Din let out a long sigh, putting his glove back on.  “Good job.  You were very brave.”  

He rummaged in the crate beside the bed, coming out with a kit of freeze-dried krill, some of the last from Sorgan.  “Want a snack?”  

He opened the packet, setting it in the child’s lap.  “Remember the nice people in Sorgan?  All those kids you made friends with?”  If only we --

Little fingers reached to the food, and the child ate the lot ravenously, getting krill crumbs all over his face.

“Here.  Let me just --”  Din wiped the crumbs off with his fingertips.  The child leaned into his touch, large eyes falling closed as Din cradled his cheek.  “Sleepy?  Get some rest, buddy.  I’ll be back soon.  Just need to clean up a little.”  The kid snuggled into Din’s blanket, already fast asleep.  

“Night, kid,” he said softly.

The door to the bunk closed behind him, the locking lights flashing.  His shoulders slumped, exhaustion settling in.  

He shuffled to the wall beside the vacc tube, hitting his closed fist against the small panel that hid a shallow sink, faucet, and cupboard.  He glanced back.  The door to the bunk was still locked.  He didn’t think the kid would try to follow him, tired as he was, but he dared not leave it to chance.  Not after earlier --

He sank onto the narrow seat of the vacc, and leaned heavily against the wall.  

He forced himself to reach up and lift his helmet, hissing as the inner lining, sticky with dried blood, tugged at his hair.  He sniffed, wincing, catching the scent of stale sweat and iron in his sodden shirt collar.  He set the helmet down beside him on a weapons rack and methodically pulled off his gloves for what came next.  

Childhood training burned deep in his bones.  You must tend to your armor after each battle as you tend to your body.  Without your armor, your body is vulnerable.  The two are one and the same.  

Normally his skills, his training, and his beskar kept the ritual of maintenance brief and automatic. Then again, normally he didn’t come back from a job with bacta mending a skull fracture.

A blinding flash, the air ripped from his lungs as he flew backwards -- 

A horrific crunching, a hot flood slick down the back of his head, soaking his collar and cloak --

He stared at his helmet, IG-11’s words echoing.  I am not a living thing.

He shivered.  It was true that no droid lived.  No living thing had seen him unmasked since childhood.  He had sworn the Creed.

But would the Armorer have granted him his signet, had she known what he’d done?  

What he’d allowed?

A wave of pain throbbing, overwhelming, clouding thoughts and vision, black blooming at the edges of everything --

Feet limp and nerveless, legs dragging in the dust, Cara hauling him from the fray like a dead thing --

He snatched the helmet from the shelf in a quick, controlled movement, breathing hard, and turned on the water in the shallow sink.  He reached for his cleaning kit and thrust his hand inside the helmet, methodically scouring the detritus away from the delicate machinery lining its inner surface.  

A frisson of revulsion passed through him as the water flowed red.  Broken strands of hair, clumped with clotted blood, gathered at the drain.  He scrubbed until the water poured into the helmet flowed clear, until the outside shone, until his head and his hands ached with the effort.  

The certain knowledge that this, then, was a warrior’s death --

Gasping for air, chest heaving, the raised blaster in his trembling hand --

The air, soft on his face --

Stiffly he set his helmet down to dry, and raised his head.  His face, distorted, stared back at him from the dimly reflective wall surface.  The colors were all wrong: reds and purples where he remembered brown and tan.  He brought handfuls of water to his cheeks, grunting when he found undeclared bruises, a nasty cut across the bridge of his nose, blood dried hard enough in his mustache that he had to scrub to lift it.  

Helmets stacked like trophies, beskar bones of his people in the dark  —

He gingerly touched the back of his head, his hand coming away still moist with blood and sweat.  The hair had matted, mired in hopeless tangles.  He’d cut it tomorrow.  For now he settled with more soap and water, enough to thin some of the mats at least somewhat.  He brushed through some of the damp hair with his fingers, and he wondered if the foundlings had fought back.

He stilled, his hands falling slack into his lap.  He stared at the wall.  He breathed in.  Breathed out.

He stared until his eyes burned.

***

The door to the bunk hissed open.  The child still slept soundly, though the blanket had fallen to expose his small shoulders.

Din knelt beside the child, his armor finally cleaned and restored.  The kid was sleeping so peacefully that for a moment he considered sleeping up in the cockpit, letting the kid take the bed rather than move him to the makeshift hammock Din had made.  Either way he’d be sleeping in full armor, as he had ever since the kid had come aboard, so it made little difference to him.  But as he adjusted the blanket, tucking it in around the little one’s neck, a small hand brushed against his vambrace.  

The child blinked owlishly up at him, stifling a tiny yawn.  Then he reached up, hands striving --

“C’mere,” said Din.  He gathered the child into his arms and sat on the cot, letting himself stretch out.  He meant to reach over and help situate the child in the hammock, but he did not.  Instead the child curled up against him in the soft spot between his fresh-cleaned cloak and his pauldron.

Din laid a hand over the child’s back, watching it rise and fall with every small, rapid breath.  “It was a hard day,” he murmured.  “No wonder you’re tired.”

He closed his eyes.  Tried to drift off to sleep, the familiar weight of the child resting against him.  But he stared through the slit in his helmet up at the ceiling, eyes unfocused.

Burrowing his face into the shoulder of the Mandalorian, the wind in his hair -- 

He was alive.

The foundlings playing games beneath the city --

The child was safe.

Kuiil’s small body, scored by blaster fire --

The Imps were vanquished.

A mechanized voice beseeching him not to be sad --

He and the child were now a clan of two.  

Beskar desouled, defiled, desolate --

So then why was it so hard to breathe?

The child whimpered suddenly against him, his hands twitching, perhaps in a dream.  Did his species dream?  The whimper grew louder, sounding almost frightened.  The little hands jerked.

His stomach clenched, the flashes in his mind receding, his focus turning sharply to the child resting on him.  “It’s okay,” Din whispered, caressing the baby’s cheek, thumb drawing small circles against delicate skin.  “I’ve got you.  You’re safe now.”  

Please believe me, kid --

The baby murmured half inaudibly, then shifted and wrapped his arms around Din’s hand.  Through the kid’s robe Din could feel a fierce heartbeat, tapping a rapid tattoo.  Close to the heart, his gloved fingertips brushed against something hard and metallic.  The mythosaur, memory, might, Mandalore.  

The child, the heartbeat, the mythosaur.  They anchored him.  They were enough.

This is the Way.

The child rested peacefully against him, comfortably asleep once more.  Din’s eyes fell closed, his mind quieting, the ache of his wounds fading.  He breathed in.  Breathed out.  

He slipped into a dreamless sleep, and he held his foundling closer.

-fin

(Maybe Grogu’s mind wanders in the Force while he sleeps.  Maybe Din’s trauma isn’t as hidden as he thinks it is.  Yes, my heart breaks for both of them.)

#the mandalorian #din djarin #grogu #the mandalorian fanfiction #noromo Mando #mandalorian #star wars #my Mando fic #and yes if you were wondering I deal with blood a lot #sometimes cleaning up after a trauma case is a secondary trauma #even when you’re used to it #so... this story happened #blood #blood tw #blood cw #tw blood

[kitty0boy]

Uh ohhh, back again. So this time it’s, you guessed it, Marichat. I will write other love square fics in the future but for now I must feed my Marichat starved ass. As always, Adrien is 18, Marinette is 17, and this time, Chat pays Marinette a visit, while drunk. Nothing smutty just dumb Chat Noir. And I checked, the drinking age in France is actually 16 so this is very much legal. Enjoy!

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Adrien was bored, so incredibly bored in his absolutely massive room. Despite having a rock wall, a piano, an arcade machine, a Foseball table, a wide screen television, a computer, and an entire wall full of CDs, Adrien was bored. He felt bad that he didn’t appreciate all he had, but the simple fact is that he would give all of it away in a heartbeat, and you know what? Maybe he should. There are thousands of kids in Paris that would kill to have a fraction of all he had. And he was rich anyways so he could just buy something else. He sighed and Plagg lazily rolled over on his desk. “Are you as bored as I am?” His Kwami asked. “Yup.” He replied. What to do what to do. “You know Plagg, I kind of feel like pissing off my father right now.” He said nonchalant. “Who are you and what have you done with Adrien?” Plagg teased, earning a giggle from his wielder. Over the years Plagg seemed to rub off on him. He was still a hundred times more responsible than Plagg but he wasn’t a stick in the mud when it came to rules. He wasn’t afraid to piss of Gabriel or disappoint him anymore, he didn’t spend much time with him anyways. “Well then,” Plagg said, floating up “let’s see what we can find.”

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Marinette had finally figured out a routine when it comes to being the guardian. The Kwamis were allowed out of the miracle box for two hours everyday. She would set up snacks, board games, arts and crafts and more to keep them entertained. In exchange, they would stay quiet so that people wouldn’t be worried for her, plus it helped to not have the Kwamis ripping her room to shreds. Their time out of the miracle box had just ended. She had already cleaned up the board games and brought the plates down stairs. She was about to change into her pjs when something poked through her window. It was a black glove. She squealed and tried to quickly pull her shirt back on before he could come in. “Chat Noir! What did I say about knocking?” She quickly stuffed the miracle box into her closet before approaching the window. He didn’t climb in right away though, instead he dangled from the window sill. She poked her head out and made eye contact with him.

“Look Marinette, now I’m the damsel I’m distress, waiting for my hero to save me.” He slurred his words a little which was odd. Playing along she grabbed him by the arms and pulled him up through her window. Instead of standing and climbing through the window. He dragged himself in and slumped to the floor with his back against the carpet. “You know, you’re strong for a little person.” He giggled. “Ok kitty, get up.” He followed orders and stood, but he swayed slightly and laughed more when she held him steady. He reached up and, booped her. What? She knew he was a dork but he never usually acted like this. Then the faint scent of expensive wine hit her nose. “Chat are you drunk?” He crossed his arms infront of him. “No I’m not, I’m Chat Noir.” He laughed at his own dad joke. “Yeah ok, you’re drunk.” She sighed and rubbed her temple. “Just wait here a minute.”

She went downstairs and got a glass of water and some croissants for him to snack on. She opened the trap door, “Ok kitty, time for you to sober up.” She looked at him, still standing in the same place she had left him. What a goof.

“Come sit Chat, we can watch a movie while you eat.” He obeyed and collapsed dramatically onto the chaise lounge. “Can I get cuddles Marinette, your knight in shining armour is touch starved, only the cuddles of his *hic* purrincess can save him from this curse.” She giggled, “Ok, but after you eat first.” He sat bolt upright and seemed to regret that decision because he slumped and collapsed again. She laughed and he pouted, “Chat oh my god, you don’t have to rush, I’m not leaving.” He smiled clumsily, was it even possible to smile clumsily? He sat up in slow motion, no he actually tried to move in slow motion before slowly reaching out and grabbing a croissant. “Chat you’re going to kill me,” she laughed “you don’t have to move in slow motion, you can eat at a normal pace.” Somehow, he didn’t understand the concept of normal because he shoved the whole croissant into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. ‘How was that even possible?’ she thought, did he have power she didn’t know about? Like stretchy mouth or something? She stared at him dumbly as he inhaled another croissant. “Ok kitty, this time we’re going to take bites.” She picked up a croissant and took a bite out of it, “Like this see, bites.” It was like teaching a toddler, she had done it in the past but said toddler wasn’t drunk and 6 feet tall. Chat didn’t grab the last croissant on the plate, instead he took a regular sized bite of the croissant in Marinette’s hand, chewed and swallowed. She laughed again, he was such a dork. She decided that it would just be easier to let him eat the croissant like that so she fed him the rest and adjusted her computer on the desk so it was facing them. She handed Chat the remote. “Ok kitty, you pick what movie you wanna watch and I’ll be right back ok? Don’t go anywhere.” He gave a toothy grin before sliding to the ground and sitting against the chaise lounge. She sighed smiling and walked towards her bathroom to change and get ready for bed.

When she walked back in, Chat wasn’t scrolling through movie options or even sitting up right. He was lying, on the ground starring blankly at her ceiling with the song “Despacito” playing from his baton. She walked over to him and kneeled by his face, “Chat Noir what are you do-?” He placed a finger on her lips and slurred out a “Shhhhh.” Before a tear rolled down his cheek, she looked at him, mixed between trying not to laugh and concerned. “I’m in my feels princess.” He said before deeply inhaling. “DESPACI-“ her hand slapped over his mouth before she rested her head on his chest and wheezed out a laugh. “Chat oh my fucking god.” She said between giggles “You have to keep quiet, my parents would kill me if they found out you were here, and drunk no less.” He reached up and put his hand on top of her hand that was currently silencing him, instead of pulling it off, he kissed it and smiled at her. Her face turned beet red as she stared at him. That is until he licked her hand. She pulled her hand away and wiped it on her shirt. “Chat!” She exclaimed, he brought his hands behind his head and smirked at her, “Who’s the loud one now little lady?” She blushed again, if it wasn’t for the fact that he just licked her, she might have stammered too. Instead she just shook her head, “Come on Chat, let’s watch a movie.” His eyes lit up and he stood, jumping up and down, “Do I get cuddles now?” His tail swished behind him. Was he a dog or a cat? She laughed and agreed before the pair settled on the chaise.

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The sun was beaming on his face when he woke up. He was surprised he didn’t have a headache. He opened his eyes and the first thing he saw, was pink. Lots and lots of pink. His eyes shot open and looked around before landing on a mop of Raven hair. Marinette was cuddled up to him, her arms encircling his torso while her head rested on one half of his chest, one of her legs crossed over his. ‘Oh no, oh shit shit shit.’ He gulped before slowly moving his hand down her back, oh thank god, she had clothes on. He smiled down at her and soon, she blinked up at him. “Good morning Marinette.” He said, his voice still heavy with sleep. “Ah so you’re sober I see, don’t worry, nothing happened.” She said reassuringly. He ran a hand down his face, a gloves hand. Ah so he came here as Chat Noir. “Do you remember anything?” He shook his head and she filled him in. “Well I’m glad I didn’t do anything stupid.” He laughed, “Nope it was more like babysitting an overgrown toddler.” She laughed, he smiled. “I’m surprised you don’t have a headache.” She said, “It’s probably the suit, it will probably get worse when I take to suit off.” He made to leave but Marinette held him down. “Nope, I had to babysit you all night, I request cuddles as payment.” He sighed before rolling onto his side and nuzzling his face into her neck. “Fine by me purrincess.”

He was right, his head nearly split open from the hangover, but it was all worth it.

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Thanks for reading!

#marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #marichat #miraculous ladybug tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous ladybug #mlb #mlb fanfic #marichat fanfic