#this is literally going to sound so fucking stupid but like. reminder @ me: if you’re feeling extra shitty

[overbearingstruggles]

-

#the show was so fun and perfect #and then I ruined a nice time by going to eat with my friend. because I never see her anymore and if I don’t make the plan no one will #but jesus motherfucking christ I need my friends who makes over $20k more than me to be real about how much they have #when I was working 2 jobs I was making much less and still felt like a millionaire! and I love to pick up the tab. I won’t buy you stuff #but dinner/drinks is such a nice and easy way to do something nice #meanwhile this bitch tells me about paying to see the Jobros again! has a fucking coupon to eat. and asks if I’m tipping 15% or 18% #and she’ll venmo me her half of the tip. $3. hi if you have money and don’t tip at least 20% you’re a fucking freak!! #idk this is a whole ramble that probably sounds petty. but my friends knowing what our incomes are and how I’ve been stressed about things #I need to handle and just no one bothering to do anything nice. like literally what the fuck do people do with money??? #when I had extra I did the only thing you should: give it to people who don’t! #also talking to this friend is like talking to a wall and everything she likes is. well fucking stupid. so remind me to not do this again!! #I constantly feel like I lived through a different 2020 than everyone else. I am deeply further radicalized #but my friends making decent money have such useless ass gen x energy. it’s fucking embarrassing #there’s seriously something wrong with the consumerism of people who liked Disney channel shit and i think people should fuck off

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 23

part 1 | part 22 | ao3

cw: alcohol, recreational drinking

Steve fusses with his hair in the side mirror again, tugging awkwardly at his borrowed clothes. He feels stupid, standing here fidgeting in the parking lot like some kind of nervous freshman, but half of Hawkins seems to be here tonight and Robin’s got him dressed like a loser — worn green flannel and a ripped black tee with a faded picture of The Smiths. Jesus. “Did you really have to dress me like this?” 

“What? You look cute!” 

“I look like I raided Jonathan Byers’ closet.”

“No, you look like someone a certain neighbor is going to be drooling over all night.” Steve’s grateful for the dark then; for the blush it hides on his cheeks. “It’s not my fault you don't know how to make a deal; if you wanted to borrow a specific shirt, you should have said so before we shook on it.”

“Besides,” she ignores him when he rolls his eyes at her, “you wouldn’t even let me smudge eyeliner on your lower lash line like I wanted to, so I really don't feel like you’ve earned complaining privileges.” 

“I’ll complain if I fucking want to,” he grumbles under his breath. He runs a hand through his hair one more time, then forces himself to look away from the mirror. Rolls his shoulders back and down. “He’s not even here, anyway.”

“Ah-ha! So you did check.” She links their arms together, starts dragging Steve across the uneven gravel, her ankles wobbling in her low-heeled boots. “‘Just looking for a good parking spot,’ my ass. God, I’m always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct. I should really play the lottery next time I visit my grandparents..."

“Uh huh.” He’s not sure what luck and correctness have to do with each other, but sure.

She stumbles over a rock; pushes into his side, grinning, “I’m serious! I’ll play the lottery, and I’ll win big, and then you’ll see. Might even split my winnings with you if you’re nice to me.” 

“I’m literally so nice to you all the time, but okay. Can’t wait to take half your earnings when you get ten bucks off a scratcher.” 

“Hey, five bucks is five bucks! That’s like an hour and a half of our lives.”

Jesus Christ. “That’s just depressing.”

They walk arm and arm down the narrow footpath to the party — ferns brushing their calves, dry dirt beneath their shoes kicking up tiny clouds of dust — and as the path opens up Steve sees the place is packed. More packed than the overstuffed parking lot let on. There are people scattered over the picnic grounds in groups of fours and fives, a full dance floor under the main pavilion; a DJ set up at the front with food and drink stands to the side; a giant bowl of spiked punch; a tower of solo cups; a couple of coolers filled with beer.

In the surrounding grass he sees more tables, more people. A couple of guys he remembers from swim team rally around an arm wrestling match; another group plays beer pong on a brown fold-up table that they definitely stole from someone’s church. There's a circle of burnouts playing hacky sack behind a tree.

The bonfire burns brightly on the hillside in the distance, and beyond that he spots the faint glow of trail lights leading up to a bridge under the falls. 

Part of him wants to follow the trail. Shake Robin off, pretend like he’s going to take a leak. Find a nice rocky overhang to camp under for a while.

Listen to river sounds. Gentle slosh; cricket buzz.

Maybe he gets drunk up there alone. Maybe he just enjoys the solitude; lies on a rock on his belly by the icy river’s edge, swirls his hand in frigid water and doesn't dream of dark brown curls.

“Steve?” Robin nudges him. “You good?”

Another, much less annoying part of him reminds him that he’s Steve Goddamn Harrington. He knows how to have a good time at a party.

Who cares if he feels too old to be here, or if it’s weird to see so many faces that used to call him Captain or King? Who cares that he's one smudge of eyeliner away from looking like a full-blown new wave art freak?

He’s not about to slink off to do depressed weirdo wallflower shit when the DJ’s playing Wham!

“Yeah.” He squeezes her shoulder. “You want a drink?” 

“Yes, please.” 

—

The drinks are strong.

Steve’s pretty sure the punch bowl is a lot more hunch than punch, but there’s still no sign of Vickie, and Robin’s getting that sad little stress wrinkle between her brows about it, so Steve says bottoms up and starts chugging. 

They wince their way through two cups each. Robin plugs her nose on the second one like she’s about to do a high dive, and Steve laughs and takes her hand, leading her into the crowd just as Take on Me comes on. The lights all blur together as they shimmy and shake and twirl, moving like a couple of dorks, but Steve’s having a great time. Bobbing his head to the beat; a big, dumb grin on his face as he moves his hips. Robin shouts “Watch this!” over the music, and the next thing he knows they’re competing to see who can bust the worst dance move. 

He brings out all the big guns, the full-groan dad maneuvers.

The sprinkler, the lawn mower, the fucking disco finger. 

Robin answers with a sloppy attempt at the robot, so he makes up a new move he calls be kind, rewind, and she laughs like a horse and pretends to walk down a flight of stairs.

She’s crouched into a goofy lunge, two steps into the ascent back up, when the song fades out and a ballad takes over. The crowd presses in to slow dance; Robin steps on someone's toes.

“Hey, watch it!” the person hisses.

Robin startles hard; knocks herself off-balance when she tries to stand up straight, babbling, "Oh, my god, I'm so sorry! Are you- are you okay? I'm such a klutz, oh, my god, I'm—"

Steve snatches her up under the armpits; puts her back on her feet. Then he looks up and realizes who exactly she just stepped on. 

Well, shit.

—

part 24

tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #st fic #robin buckley #jonathan byers #my writing #my fic

[its-your-mind]

“oh clearly jon feels no emotions and is in complete control of himself at all times. this man is a logic machine.”

did we??? listen to the same podcast?????? this man feels first, thinks later. there is a strong emotion? get ready for jonathan jarchivist sims to act on it with little-to-no second thoughts. rational thinking who. we throw ourselves full force at the first thought that comes into our head. like, we are talking about the man who:

busted into the office of a guy he hadn’t talked to more than twice since he woke up from a six month coma, sincerely offering to gouge out his eyes and run away with him, and was Absolutely Gobsmacked when he was refused

was prefectly ready to let a face-stealing monster live… right up until it reminded him that it had killed his friend without him realizing (that “…what did you say” is one of the lines that gives me GOOSEBUMPS every time)

dove headfirst into a pile of evil sentient worms to grab a tape recorder bc he was so determined to not die as aNOTHER GODDAMN MYSTERY

let his survivor’s guilt from when he was eight drive the major decisions he made for the rest of his life

threw himself into a fear dimension of evil loneliness to save the man he loved (who had refused to speak to him for months) at the probable expense of himself who knows

had so much MALICE in his voice when he killed peter lukas like damn girl you do not get that emotional when you’re just killing someone bc they’re evil or whatever. there was Hatred there. go off queen.

literally was willing to sacrifice an entire WORLD so that no one would ever f e e l what he had to feel when jonah voicesnatched him

LITERALLY speedran a love story in like six weeks in scotland. this man was SO READY to be in love it’s ridiculous. so was martin. I love them sm

heard his predecessor was dead

came to the conclusion that he was next

what should we do with this?

oh I know

stalk every one of my coworkers bc clearly one of them is out to get me

committed himself to living in the archives forever bc he didn’t want to put georgie or “god forbid the admiral” in danger (has his priorities STRAIGHT he does)

oh annabelle caine has martin? and an artifact that completely knocks me on my ass and takes away all my powers? off to hilltop road we go come on basira we have spider ass to kick

threw himself into a coffin to save a woman who LITERALLY was ABOUT TO KILL HIM bc he just wanted to HELP and everyone around him was HURTING SO MUCH

was insulted when a statement giver called the institute stupid and immediately discarded all professionalism and clapped back by calling her wildly successful youtube series dumb

also immediately discarded all professionalism when disgusted by a teeth apple “we do NOT want it.” like damn bro this traumatized doctor brought this bone apple teeth proof in for you and you are too grossed out to grin and bear it

was slightly annoyed by the fact that martin was not the Ideal Assistant. Offhandedly mentioned on an official recording that he wanted an evil flesh witch to slowly kill his literal employee by a series of freak accidents that resulted in the loss of one body part at a time. this man has no chill whatsoever.

took so much satisfaction in killing jonah magnus. like jonah told him not to be dramatic and jon PROMPTLY started monologuing while stabbing douchard directly in the chest.

“I don’t want to die”

“Neither did they.” FUCK YES QUEEN GO OFF GET HIS SMARMY VICTORIAN ASS

sounded so SMUG when he told the eye he was gonna go apologize to his boyfriend. like yeah stupid all-powerful fear god I have a BOYfriend and I LOVE him suck on THAT

remember when he decided to doom his whole world bc he wanted to stop anyone else from feeling like he did? yeah that plan went out the window fuckin imMEDIATely as soon as his beloved martin walked into the room. oh, he’s in the world I’m going to be dooming? well fuck didn’t consider that part. welp guess he’s just gonna have to stab me. and then we will hold each other and declare our love and kiss and hope to still be alive and together somehow as the world collapses around us. our love didn’t save us but it was here and that mattered. okay list cancelled I’m gonna go curl up in a ball for a little bit. ty for your time.

#jonathan sims #the archivist #tma #tma spoilers #the magnus archives #jonmartin #listen martin got a list of unhinged actions #now jon gets his own list of no thoughts head empty only vibes #balanced #as all things should be

[yourstrulyrika]

hey guys did u miss me :3 i am most likely back !!! i feel like i owe everyone an actual explanation what happened that i disappeared for a moment;

first, i was really sick and couldn’t really do a thing, and if i had the energy, i had no motivation, then i got 100$ stollen from me so i basically had a really low episode. sorry for the inactivity, i was sick for almost three weeks & had to go to doctors multiple times. there was more, but i don’t want to dump it all here, since it’s literally a fic post and those things are private so um!! yk.

either way, here comes the actual post, and then i’ll actually get to my rqs so no worries, i’m not missing anyone out! i might be just a biiiiit rusty. just a bit. i lowkey hate this i think

leon x fem!reader, of course it’s a smut, soft soft soft, soft dom!leon, lovelovelovelove, leon letting you try to ride him basically

the last thing Leon likes is being vulnerable. well, one of the last things. he hates being seen as weak, emotional. he’s the strong person of the relationship, he can’t show his emotions right? he’s so deep into that headspace that it was almost impossible to pull him out. he always found an excuse to not let you take care of him.

you would try and suggest taking control in bed, and he always found a way to make you stop thinking about it. it’s not that Leon doesn’t trust you. he trusts his darling more than anyone else, even himself sometimes, but letting someone take control over him just.. sounds weird. to him. he’s also nervous about lying back down and letting you do the job. what if you won’t like it or something? he doesn’t want to mess up. it’s just that Leon doesn’t know what to do when he’s not taking care of someone or when he’s not being ordered around.

when he finally agreed though, he still kept his hands on your hips. not bruising, but it’s still there, large hands holding onto your hips, controlling the pace. he’s not ready to let go fully, he has to hold onto even the slightest bit of control. it brings him a peace of mind in its own way.

but you also bring a peace of mind to him, and he finds himself letting go, even if a little. the feeling of your walls surrounding his length is enough to make him go stupid. Leon has always been quick to grow pussydrunk on you. every time you squeeze around him, he thinks he might bust a nut right there at this moment. the fact you’re so beautiful doesn’t help either; he finds himself losing in the sight of you all the time, his eyes blown out, that stormy blue of his almost nonexistent with his pupils wide.

“Goddamn, your grip on me isn’t fair…” he half whines half grunts it out — it’s true, though. you don’t even have to do anything and he’s already on his knees if you need him to. only for you though — there’s no way anyone else would ever have this type of grip on him. you’re squeezing him so damn hard, he’s losing his mind. he can’t help himself — he agreed to you taking control but he finds himself thrusting his hips up, taking over the pace because your pussy just feels too good.

when you stop moving your hips, he whines. he was feeling so good, but you took it away! looking at you with blown out eyes, he pouts his lips, only for you to remind him he’s supposed to let go. he knows you want him to relax and let you take control— but he just can’t, not fully. still, he tries.

his hands hold onto the fat of your hips, lifting your hips up and down, making you bounce on him, his heavy balls slapping against your ass and making loud clapping noises echoing through the room.

“Fuckkk, your pussy’s so damn good.. can’t hold back when you’re gripping me so fucking hard, feels ‘s warm,” your slick leaks down onto his pelvis, both of your juices mixing into a mess, your sweat mingling with his. one of his hand trails up, pulling you down to wrap his lips around your breast, suckling on it as if you were about to start leaking milk. you tug on his hair, clenching around his fat cock which causes him to groan around your nipple, resulting in you arching your back. he pulls away just a bit to attach his lips to your neck, a faint grin forming on his lips every time you react to his touch. he got you too dumb on his cock for you to keep reminding him that it’s his turn to be lying down and just taking it, just as pussydrunk he is on you, and he’s planning to use it. he still keeps you on top of him but he’s thrusting in and out of you so fast you can’t quite catch up, his pillowy lips all over you making you feel dizzy. you can feel his cock starting to throb and him getting just a tiny bit bigger. he’s relentlessly hitting your sweet spot which has you mewling for him, just the way he loves. it doesn’t take long before you cream all over his thick length, your toes curling and walls pulsing with every heartbeat of yours. soon enough, Leon follows suit, thick cum bursting out into deep your guts.

when both of you cool off from the peak, you grumble about how it was supposed to be him being the submissive one for once, but he just laughs it off with a kiss on your nose before speaking with that grin of his,

“Maybe one day, sweetheart. Gotta work up for it.”

#leon kennedy #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut

[r0ttenhearts]

OKAY IM BACK SO

yandere scara or like overly obsessive and possessive scara who does literally everything in his power to keep you with him because god forbid he loses you too w/ his issues; he resorts to guilt tripping you, gaslighting you, etc etc. eventually, he isolates you after scaring off your friends and reader tries confronting him abt it but he’s having non of that crap (why am i asking for this)

as always; you don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it

(i’m the anon that asked for the fic where reader confronts scara)

bitter lie

possessive/yandere scaramouche x reader

part 1/2

sypnosis: with you and scaramouche’s upcoming streaming career you grow tired of his lingering eyes and attention towards other girls in the field

“i’ll never get over you.” scaramouche’s muffled voice was in your ear. your laugh echoed through scaramouche’s screens as he had your stream open while he was streaming your current “online date.”. the chat gushed from his words, emojis spammed and thousands of more messages coming through.

at the time it was a sweet sentiment, a small reminder of his affection for you. now you wished he hadn’t meant it.

the breakup wasn’t a huge shock to you, or so you believed. scaramouche was completely blindsided when you told him you no longer felt a spark between you two. sure, he had been streaming with other girls after you told him you weren’t okay with it. so what if he commented under every streamers instagram pics that competed with you to stay on top? it was okay!

you’d never forget the anger in his voice that night.

“YOU FUCKING HYPOCRITE.” his voice boomed through his mic as his hands slammed on his desk. “me? a hypocrite? i never streamed with any other guys like you did!”

“you fucking hung out with that guy, alone. i’m not stupid. i saw your match logs. i know you were duoed.”

“it’s not my fault he doesn’t want to meet any of my friends, scara! i told you beforehand that i was going to hangout with him after you went to bed.” you shot back. scaramouche was referring to alhaitham. alhaitham almost never got on a game with you as he was too busy with his other streamer friends, but you two went far back to before the both of you started streaming. he wasn’t interested in meeting anymore of your friends after he had a nasty interaction with your ex boyfriend, and you respected that.

“but i’m not just a fucking friend (y/n).” he seethed. you scoffed, this was a side you had never seen of scaramouche.

“if you go through with this you’ll fucking regret it, (y/n). i promise you that.”

you shook your head. you were set on this decision. you would choose your own happiness this time. “go for it scara. i’m sure it won’t be any worse than how it’s been in our relationship.”

with that you hung up and blocked him on everything. you hadn’t meant for it to go this way. you knew his larger following wouldn’t take this well, not with how flirty he was to his viewers. they worshipped him. and in comparison, your viewers wouldn’t be able to compete with the thousands gap.

going to bed that night felt lighter. like a new start in your life. you knew a part of you would miss scaramouche. his gentle laughs when you two would hangout together off stream, his spaced out but sweet texts. there were some things about him that you would always cherish. but the pain far outweighed the comfort of the good moments. you sighed as your eyes fluttered shut. it would all be better in the morning. this heavy, nauseating feeling.

your hands shook as you read over his tweets. he was making your breakup as public as possible, he was going to ruin your career. you laughed dryly as you tapped some buttons on your screen, pressing the green call button as you held your cold phone against your ear. “pick up, please.” you muttered to yourself before you heard his voice from the other side of the speaker.

“(y/n)? it’s so early.” alhaitham’s gruff voice sounded from your phone speaker.

“haitham? did you see what scara tweeted. i broke up with him last night a-and..” your voice muffled with your sobs. alhaitham never knew of the overprotective way scaramouche would react when you’d be with others, others that weren’t him.

“slow down, (y/n). who cares if he tweets about you? you both have your own audiences it’ll die down. breathe.” alhaitham scrolled on scara’s feed on his side of the phone. reading through the comments of the new hate tweets spewing towards you. this was bad. alhaitham knew it was bad attention for your upcoming streaming career.

“shh. calm down.” alhaitham whispered quiet words of comfort as you broke down over the phone.

alhaitham didn’t know the hell that would plague you for the next two months. how wrong he could be. the false words of comfort that would feel bitter against scaramouche’s torment.

taglist: @samarill @whorerificstuff @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @ayameei @aqualesha @msdevilis @linkookie197 @beriiov @xiaonscaraswife @foxlover1144 @gh0sts0up @darliingyu @magica-ren @scara6 @Maxineslair

#genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x reader angst #wanderer x reader #wanderer angst #scaramouche x reader angst #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche angst x reader #scaramouche angst #scaramouche

[gimmeurtmi]

i love the idea of a virgoracha birthday bash!!! so cuteee

ok so my wisdom tooth hurts so bad right now so i was wondering if i can req the prompt "no one hurts you and gets away with it" with seungmin? thank you!

thank you!! 🤗 i hope you aren’t in too much pain lovie and you enjoy this lil fluffy blurb ✨

seungmin walks in to find you in the fetal position, curled up into a ball as you groan loudly. your wisdom teeth have started to come out, the feeling quite literally like a searing pain through your gums. you’ve tried the few hacks you’ve seen online to numb the area, including finishing all the ice cream in the fridge and gurgling unpleasant tasting water.

the pain was so bad it had caused the front of your head to hurt too—and now, even with the blinds drawn back and the room in complete darkness you felt like your senses were in overload.

you heard the front door open and close before a ray of light followed a soft creak as seungmin entered the room.

“y/n?” he asked, concerned. you only ever draw yourself into darkness like this when you’re feeling awful—and when he left you this morning you looked fine.

you hum in response, the sound painful to even make, and seungmin quickly sits by your side.

he brings his hand to your shoulder, petting you lightly as he turns on the fairy lights around you to see you better.

“what’s wrong?” he demands. his brows frown tightly, his bottom lip poking out in what you can only describe to look like an angry puppy.

“stupid,” you begin, but before you can explain it’s your stupid and not at all wise teeth, you let out a pained groan.

“stupid? who’s stupid? i’ll punch them,” he jumps up in his seat momentarily.

“no one,” you roll your eyes, “it’s my teeth. they’re making my brain hurt.”

“oh,” he says, almost disappointed. he looks conflicted, as if he isn’t sure who he’s going to punch now.

he decides who deserves his wrath, evidently, as he climbs on top of you and digs his hands into your waist.

“what are you doing?” you let out.

“getting my revenge,” he explains, kissing your forehead multiple times. he then kissed down your temples and towards your cheek, the kiss much lighter around the swollen area.

“listen here you little shit,” he whispers against your cheek.

“hey!” you protest, kicking your feet to try and get out of his hold, “i didn’t do anything.”

“i was not talking to you,” he raises his head slightly, looking at you before pressing his lips back against your cheek, “i am threatening your teeth now. give me some privacy.”

“i.. i can’t? it’s my teeth?”

“then be quiet,” he rubs your stomach softly, “i’m busy.”

you roll your eyes before you acquiesce—allowing whatever this is to just happen.

“listen to me,” he mumbles against your cheek, his face pressed right against it, “you better come out of there so fucking fast she doesn’t feel anything. got it? don’t make me come in there and break all your fingers for hurting her!”

“teeth don’t have fingers,” you remind him, “you look so dumb right now.”

“yah! don’t get involved,” he pouts at you, “no one hurts you and gets away with it. mr. tooth in there needs to be made aware of the consequences of his actions.”

you laugh loudly, wrapping your hands around seungmin’s broad shoulders.

“why are you so fucking weird?” seungmin then attaches his lips to your neck and blows against the skin, the noise and feel of it causing you to giggle as he blows multiple raspberries against your skin.

it’s then you notice all the laughing and his odd behaviour has been enough of a distraction to ease the pain lightly and your eyes don’t sting as much anymore.

“i love you.”

“now who looks dumb?” he grins at you before attaching himself right beneath your collarbone and blowing another raspberry. “love you too, i guess.”

you roll your eyes softly.

#all.works #9bdaybash #skz x reader #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x you #kim seungmin x y/n #stray kids x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids fluff #seungmin fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz seungmin #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop x you #skz.blurbs

[flowercrowngods]

felt like letting mike and steve work through some shit again

cw: descriptions and imagery of them being lost and self-sacrificing, left alone with trauma they have no means to work through, could read as suicidal tendencies or intrusive thoughts

🤍 also on ao3

“What do you want?” Mike asks when Steve sits down beside him, gravel crunching, their feet dangling over the dark and endless abyss that is the quarry at night.

Steve doesn’t answer right away, doesn’t really know what to say now that he’s here, now that he found him. He looks so small, now more than ever, and it reminds Steve so painfully that he’s still just a child. He was always just a child, and children shouldn’t—

It feels like they got their rights at a childhood revoked years ago, and then they were just… supposed to be okay with it. It was expected, it was implied when nobody came to talk to them after.

When all they got was one NDA after another. When none of the professionally trained adults took one look at the children that they were, and asked, Are you okay? What do you need to be okay? I will talk to you once a week and make sure you learn how to be okay again.

Steve feels like a big brother to most of the kids now, sure, but he’s not their shrink, and he sucks when it comes to actually talking about shit. He can be there to drive them anywhere, can provide an evening of distractions and as much of a sanctuary as a house as haunted as his can be.

With everything else, though, he’s helplessly lost. So he says nothing, weighs his words to make sure they come out right — especially for Mike, who’s always just waiting for him to say something wrong and throw it back in his face with the sunny disposition of a feral, rabid cat.

“Hey,” Mike says then, irritated again; but his voice is hoarse, too. Tired. No heat behind it after that stupid fight with Dustin and Lucas earlier tonight that made him snap and leave Steve’s house in a frenzy. “I said, What do you want?”

Steve shrugs, looking ahead into the darkness that feels endless and alluring and deeply terrifying.

I miss my friend! My best friend, Mike!

“Making sure you’re okay.”

You’ve changed, you know that? You’re not the guy who would jump off a cliff for me anymore, I don’t think I even know you anymore!

Dustin’s voice echoes in Steve’s mind as it undoubtedly does in Mike’s, too, and he can only imagine how much that hurts, especially if he’s shivering like that even though the night is warm for early September.

“I’m okay,” Mike says, sounding endlessly annoyed about the fact. Steve almost huffs out a humourless laugh. Yeah, right.

“Sure you are,” Steve says, keeping his tone carefully neutral.

He shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over Mike’s shoulders without a comment, half-expecting him to just throw it into the darkness below. But Mike doesn’t move, is eerily still beside him, pretending not to notice that Steve’s watching him.

“But you know it’s, like,” he starts again and trails off, looking for the right words because this is unfamiliar terrain and the ground beneath his feet is quite literally nonexistent. “It’s fine if you’re not, right? It’s actually really fucking normal to be more than a little fucked up after everything, all that crazy shit. Or just… in general.”

You were twelve, he wants to say. You were twelve and you jumped off from here. You were twelve and you were going to die. And not because of those monsters, not yet. Just because… you were twelve.

Mike doesn’t say anything, but the gravel crunches once more as he reaches for a handful of stones to throw them into the darkness one by one, the void beneath them so enormous that they don’t even hear the noise of impact.

You jumped.

The longer Mike remains silent, the more Steve wants to scream, wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, wants to make him see and understand that Steve knows about the scars a decision like that leaves, especially when you live to deal with the consequences.

He gets seizures to deal with the consequences. His ear is fucky, his eye is twitchy, his head is aching constantly, he gets migraines that knock him out for a day or two, all because he wanted to protect his friends. All because he did protect his friends. It worked. They’re safe.

But they’re also unaware of… of everything. Of the horrible stillness as clarity dawns and all signs point to the one way that always seems to work. The one easy way out, and still the hardest of them all when the plan goes wrong and he makes it out alive. When It’s gotta be me is the only thing to say, but later turns into an angry It never should have been me because the world looks different when it’s smeared with your blood.

And it’s always the lost boys who make decisions like that. Steve wonders, some nights in cold sweat, what happens if he makes these decisions without immediate danger. What happens if he just… decides to jump. Decides to run. To give the world more of his blood. Without saving anyone.

It’s not like he wants to — but he’s terrified that it’s just who he is. Who he’s turned into, terrified that his friends will forever expect him to.

And he’s even more terrified knowing that Mike jumped before he learned about monsters. Before he learned about fighting and surviving.

You were a kid, he wants to say again, but his throat is closing up on him.

“I don’t think that’s okay actually,” Mike says after a while, tearing Steve away from his fears. They’re still both looking ahead rather than at each other, but it’s fine. They’re still here. “Like, people say it is, but it feels so empty when they do, you know? Like, sure, yeah, I’m not fucking okay, but what the hell do we do about that now? Oh, right, I know! Let’s throw it in my face that I’m not good enough for you anymore now that there’s no monsters to kill anymore. Now that I’m just Mike, who’s not even enough to be that anymore, sure. Right. Yeah. Let’s pretend it’s all fine, Steve, let’s pretend it’s okay to hurt all the fucking time!”

Mike is shaking now, violent tremors running through his body, and Steve’s first instinct is to reach out and pull him close, to keep him from that edge and take him to his car; turn on the heating and talk there. But Mike seems to need the darkness, seems to need to be faced with endless depth to give voice to his thoughts.

“What Dustin said was messed up. He shouldn’t have said that.”

Mike shrugs, throwing more pebbles into the darkness, though his motions have lost their vigour. “He’s right, though.”

Steve sighs, though not unkindly. “No, he’s not. Hey, listen to me.” He waits until Mike turns to meet his eyes, and he leans forward. “It’s not okay. It’s not right what he said. You don’t deserve to have that shit thrown in your face just because Dustin is a tactless little douche bag.”

Taking a bullet for someone is not the baseline for friendship, he wants to say, and it occurs to him once again how fucked up their perception and idea of friendship must be, now that they’ve all bonded over the most horrific shit and actual grief they never learned how to work through.

It’s not even Dustin’s fault, not really. They’re all just collateral damage to something Bigger, and all they have is each other, leaving them in a vicious cycle that is so, so fucked up.

“Why’d you jump?” he asks eventually, quiet in case the darkness tries to listen in. “Back then, why did you jump?” And do you wish El had let you? Do you sometimes wish that? When your room is quiet and it’s only you living with all those silent, terrible decisions?

Mike shrugs again, but there’s not much fight left in him, Steve can see that, can feel it in the air between them.

“Will was gone,” he says like it explains everything— and it sort of does. Steve has seen the way these boys look at each other when the other’s not looking, he has seen the hurt and the anger and the gentleness stored there, the words unspoken and the fear that, despite interdimensional monsters, kinda goes unmatched.

Because they have each other. They only have each other. And if someone’s suddenly different than what they thought they knew, if someone’s suddenly different, then… Everything might just fall apart.

And Steve wants to grab him again; wants to pull him close and say, I’m the same. We have the same scars. We have the same!

Slowly, carefully, he does lean over now, weaving an arm around Mike’s shoulders and pulling him into his side.

“I get that.”

Mike swallows heavily and exhales shakily. “I don’t think you do.”

“No. I think I really, really do. But it’s okay, Mike. You won’t be alone with this, okay. I’m on your side, you little shit.”

A pause, a beat, a moment’s respite. Then, “Why?”

“Because,” his heart is racing, his mouth trembling around forming the words for the first time, but he knows it’s the right thing to do. Knows it’s important.

Knows it might just save a life.

“Because I fell harder for Eddie Munson than I ever thought possible, and once i found out what was happening, I kind of wanted to jump off a cliff, too. But I didn’t, because I had someone with the same fears as me, and instead of stupid shit we just… Cried together sometimes. Screamed into our pillows. Laughed with and at each other, calling ourselves hopeless, and— I don’t know. It’s really fucking scary, and that doesn’t go away just because you have someone to talk to. But it‘s… better. It’s so much better.”

He huffs, swallowing around the lump in his throat, smiling into the darkness.

“So I’ve got you, okay? Whatever it is, whatever makes you feel like it’s not fucking okay, I’ve got you. You come to me, yeah? Lucas does, Dustin does, even Max does. This is your official, standing invitation and whatever, okay, dickhead?”

Mike shoves at him lightly, still not parting from the rather awkward side-hug they’ve got going on, and Steve is glad for it.

“Okay, okay, geez,” the little shithead says, rolling his eyes which Steve can see even in the dark, and it feels like the edge has moved away from them, like they have solid ground beneath their feet again.

Steve doesn’t say anything more after that, just waiting for Mike to stir to lead him back to the car, load in his bike and take him wherever he feels like spending the night.

But Mike doesn’t move for another long while, and it makes Steve feel like something big has just happened between them. Like they finally have found the common ground that Steve’s been suspecting they had for months now, even years.

Eventually, as they make their way to the car and Mike goes to grab his bike, he speaks up again, but more subdued now.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Does… Does Eddie know?”

“About what?” My tendencies to take a leap off the edge?

“You. Being…”

“Oh!” A smile as he unlocks his car and opens the back door to squeeze Mike’s old bike in there with minimal smears of dirt. “I’d hope so, we’ve been dating for months.”

“You’re dating?! You? Eddie’s dating you?”

“Yeah, listen, do you want me to just leave you here or would you rather be thrown out in the middle of nowhere?”

Mike grumbles something unintelligible as he climbs into the front seat, waiting for Steve to start the engine before he speaks up again.

“It’s just, you’re so… How did you even do that?”

Steve laughs at that, disbelieving and all, because, “Trust me, I have no idea. Must have been the ol’ Harrington charm and all that.”

Mike rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in front of his chest, sinking lower in the seats to pout. “You’re so lame.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over how much I have a boyfriend and you don’t.”

If his heart skips a beat because it still feels like a forbidden truth saying the word out loud despite the playful banter, then he’s ignoring that in favour of revving the engine.

“Asshole.”

“Dickhead.”

“Grow up,” Mike says, but Steve can see the smile he’s not even trying to hide, and he mirrors it with his own as he turns on the radio catching the final tunes of Springsteen’s Dancing in the Dark.

They’re not okay, none of them. But the car is warm, the cliff’s edge is behind them, and they’re not listening to the same ten songs anymore.

They’re getting better, step by tiny step.

#stranger things fanfic #steve & mike #steve harrington #mike wheeler #steddie #<- mentioned but established #byler #<- implied & yearning #i am projecting HARD with this one #i’m so so convinced steve and mike are directly juxtaposed in their development with very similar trauma #this probably makes sense to no one but me but alas #let them be fucked up while life continues and let them be unable to handle it #i feel like it’s all over the place but if you’ve ever had a single vulnerable conversation then you’ll know this is how they can go #dio words

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2K]

inspo from an ask answered by @plainemmanem and thank you @lunatictardis for tagging me!

It was stupid really. Steve knew that. You knew that. But Eddie had challenged him when they were both drunk and at Robin’s Halloween party. Of course, your boyfriend accepted, ‘cause one was as stupid as the other - Steve just happened to be more stubborn.

“Eddie’s single,” you’d reminded him. “You can literally have sex with me any time you want.”

“Please don’t say ‘sex’ right now,” the boy had pleaded as Eddie and Nancy snorted in the background, dollar bills exchanging palms as they watched Steve try not to stare at your tits.

“Steve, it’s been fifteen hours.”

To be fair, he’d lasted longer than you expected. Not without complaint, but it had been eight days and Steve was avoiding touching you, skirting past you and keeping his hands tucked into his pockets like you were a dangerous weapon.

Steve thought you were.

He’d groaned and whined when you bent over in front of him, when you pulled your hair back out of your face, a Pavlovian response that had him squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn’t handle it when you pressed yourself against him, even for something as innocent as a hug and you’d begun to get annoyed, missing your boyfriend's touch.

“This is getting ridiculous,” you’d huffed, ignoring your friend's laughter when Steve had to ease you off his lap during a movie, brown eyes wide and his pretty features panic stricken. “Steve!”

“Baby,” he’d groaned all apologetic, taking your hand instead, pressing a kiss to your palm even whilst you frowned at him. “You can’t get mad at me, please, you know it turns me on.”

Eddie had lost it.

Which is why you’d taken matters into your own hands and begged Nancy to go shopping with you, both of you browsing through the lingerie section at the department store, cringing at the price tags and pretending that the pretty sales lady wasn’t staring at you both suspiciously.

“Remind me why you’re still getting regular sex?” You huffed, holding up something red and lacy. It was so tiny, you weren’t sure which way it went, or where it was supposed to cover.

Nancy snorted, presenting a baby blue body suit to you, too flowery for your taste and you wrinkled your nose. “Because Jonathan isn’t an idiot,” she replied, smirking even though she was blushing. She caught your eye, your raised brows and doubtful expression. “Fine, because Jonathan isn’t as big of an idiot as Eddie and Steve,” she corrected.

So you spent too much money on a set that came with more pieces of lace than you were used to, all black with sheer stockings and a suspender belt. You’d laughed when Nancy pushed some stilettos into your hand, telling you the extra cash spent would be worth it, how it would make Steve lose his shit. And really, that’s what this trip was about.

You knew he was finishing work at five, knew he promised to take Dustin and Lucas to the arcade when he was done so it gave you time to monopolise his bathroom, preening in the mirror as you brushed out your hair and slicked on some gloss.

You were posed and ready for Steve, smiling to yourself as you heard the front door open and close. He knew you were already in his room, your shoes by the front door, some music playing faintly from the stereo on his dresser.

He just didn’t expect to see you perched on the edge of his bed, stocking clad legs crossed at the thighs, hands pressed to the sheets behind you so you could push your chest out a little, all black lace wrapped around soft skin. The heels were a nice touch, you’d thought, kinda intimidating looking, sharp toed and doing everything to make your legs look a mile long.

Steve stopped at the door, eyes wide, jaw slack and a groan came from somewhere deep inside of him, a filthy, filthy noise as he immediately backed away, stumbling into the hall.

“Nononono, baby,” he whined. He sounded wrecked, eyes still on you despite being ten feet away. “Baby, fuck.”

You grinned, not even trying to hide your amusement, your smugness. You made a soft noise of sympathy, all faux sincerity as you uncrossed your legs and stood up, suspender belt cinched around your waist, stockings high on your thighs and heels clicking against the floor.

Steve looked like he was about to drop to his knees. He leant against the wall instead, one hand coming up to his mouth to cover his low moans, throaty and rough, biting down on his fist as he stared at you.

You made a show of it, turning to the side as you peered down at yourself, tits sitting high on your chest with the help of the expensive bra, all sheer material and scalloped edges. You ran your hands down the soft of your tummy, pressed them over the curve of your ass, barely covered by the scrap of lace that acted as underwear.

“D’you like it?” You asked, doe eyed and smiling. “I bought it for you.”

Steve was red in the cheeks, eyes glassy, all flushed and wild looking. You almost felt bad.

Almost.

“Illegal,” Steve ground out, voice strained. He gestured to where your thigh highs were held up by the little straps, ass bouncing a little as you twisted for him, showing off. “That should be illegal.”

“Baby,” you pouted, acting up, acting cute, the way you knew he couldn’t resist. “You don’t think it looks good?”

Steve barked out a laugh, a strangled noise as he edged forward, looking at you like you were his last meal. He looked absolutely wrecked, like the prettiest boy you’d ever seen.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, taking in every inch of you, gaze pausing on your thighs, your tits, the slope of your neck, the cherry coloured shine of your lips. “Yeah, babe, it looks good on you, fucking Christ.”

You grinned, pleased and beckoned him back into his room with a crook of your finger.

“This isn’t fair,” he murmured, low and throaty. “You look fucking insane, oh my god, are you trying to kill me?”

He was babbling, losing it as he walked towards you, hands in his hair as he tried not rip out the strands, doing everything he could to keep himself grounded. It was cute, how he thought he could still win his stupid bet.

Steve kept a little away still, a foot or two between you, close enough that he could smell your perfume, his favourite, the body wash that belonged to him that clung to your skin. He was salivating.

“You’re evil, you’re actually evil,” the boy groaned as you twisted and twirled for him, ass popped out. “I fucking love you.”

“Wanna show me how much?” You smirked, reaching a hand out to trail your fingertips along the skin that peeked out his collar. He was hot, chest heaving, panting for you. “I’ve missed you Stevie,” you cooed, moving in closer. “Missed having your hands on me.”

Steve stuttered over a breath as you took his wrists in your grip, coaxing them to the sides of your waist, you encouraged him to hold you, pressing yourself against him and feeling how painfully fucking hard he was underneath his jeans. It didn’t take much for his palms to drop down to your hips, fingering at the soft nylon of your thigh highs.

You watched him, eyes dark, tongue peeking out between your teeth as you tried to hold back your amusement, ‘cause Steve’s eyes were fluttering closed and he threw his head back, groaning in defeat.

“You look,” he panted out, his breath a hiss. “So. Fucking. Good.”

“Thank you,” you answered politely, nudging your nose against his chin, drawing a line with it up the slope of his jaw. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, sweet and innocent, sticky cherry left behind. “My pretty boy. Want you so bad, d’you know that? Got all dressed up just for you, Steve.”

He leaned into you, hands squeezing at your hips, hard enough to bruise, all semblance of control completely gone. You looked up at him through your lashes, blinking innocently as you watched his eyes droop all pretty.

He was a man gone.

“Fuck, fuck, you did? Shit, sweetheart, this is— you’re just— ohmygod.”

You managed to coax him towards his bed, the backs of his knees hitting the edge of the mattress and he sat without argument, hands grabbing at your waist the minute you settled yourself onto him.

He was rock hard, gasping, pupils blown wide. A pretty, pretty state.

“Oh, my poor boy,” you cooed out, hands smoothing over his forehead, pushing his hair from his eyes. You kissed the high of his cheekbone, peppered tiny kisses over each freckle there. “You gotta calm down, you’re gonna burst a blood vessel, Stevie.”

“Calm down?” He choked out in a laugh, snapping your suspenders against your thighs. His eyes rolled back when you gasped, a pretty, little sound that made his dick twitch under your cunt. “Sweetheart, have you fuckin’ seen yourself? I think I’ve already died.”

“Can I kiss you?” You said instead of real response, ignoring the way he whined, shaking his head as if he actually meant it, as if he had any intention of rejecting you. “Please?”

You stayed still, one hand carding through his hair, the other curled around his neck, annoying the way his pulse jumped and throbbed under your palm.

Steve moved into you, noses bumping, his breath a fast and heavy huff over your lips as you patiently waited.

“M’gonna come in my fuckin’ pants,” Steve choked out, his touch roaming freely over your body now, palming roughly at your tits, finger and thumb expertly finding your already stuff nipple under the lace. “You’re gonna make a goddamn mess of me, baby, s’that what you want?”

You whined, arching into him, ‘cause although you’d started the game, you’d truly missed your boyfriend’s affection. His large, wide palms, greedy kisses, the way he liked to manhandle you in bed.

You nodded, sighing heavy, eyes closing, “yeah, Stevie, fuck.”

He kissed you and it was all over, tongue licking into you the minute you opened your mouth for him, his hand on your jaw, thumb tugging desperately at your bottom lip, urging you to kiss him back as needily as he was kissing you. The sounds he made were sinful, moans and groans and whines that had you rocking your hips, grabbing at him.

Steve was wrong though, he didn’t come in his pants just from kissing you. No. But he did when you pushed him down onto the mattress, hands pressed to his chest as you started a dirty grind over him, the prettiest smile on your face as he chanted your name, groaning and swearing, head thrown back and his nails leaving marks on your thighs.

It didn’t matter though, ‘cause he made it up to you four times that night, right into the early hours of the morning, when he’d snagged the lace of your bra and ripped one stocking, your heels in different corners of the room. And when you both showed up to movie night at Nancy’s, Eddie took one look at his friend and cackled, holding out a hand to each of your friends, crowing happily as dollar bills stacked up.

“You’re weak,” he laughed at Steve, poking at the lavender coloured marks on his neck, the skin that dipped below his shirt.

Steve just batted the other boy away and flung himself down onto a beanbag, opening his arms so you could fall into his lap. His hand found its home, pressed between the tips of your thigh, just decent enough that Robin wouldn’t throw popcorn at him.

He shrugged, grinned up all lazy at Eddie, pressed his tongue to his cheek to try and hide his glee and replied, “Yeah, I know.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfiction #Steve harrington smut #stranger things fic #UDWS10K

[kingdumkum]

WHAT ARE YOU THE GOD OF, AGAIN?

feat: Lucifer ( 1182 ) ∻ Mammon ( 1748 ) ∻ Leviathan ( 1315 ) synopsis: turns out, fallen angels can have more than one sin. cw : afab!reader | overstimulation (f!receiving), squirting (if you squint); servicedom!Lucifer, oral (f!receiving), some sacrilegious connotations (heavy in Lucifer's, but they're literally a fallen angels though so that should probably go without saying) | implied nsfw; confessions; pretty tame, actually, it’s mostly just heavy-petting and fluff and i swear i *tried* to make it slutty but we’re in our ~feels~ with Mams today | oral (m!receiving); soft!Levi (but *not* sub!Levi); kinda bimbo!reader; kinda collaring but ~stylish~ a/n: check the bottom for links to the other brothers+undateables on this theme, coming soon to a theater near you

∻ Lucifer ↠ p r i d e ⤲ g r e e d

As the avatar of pride, LUCIFER knows a thing or two about confidence. After all, to be proud is to feel deep pleasure at one’s achievements, and you’d be hard-pressed to name a single thing Lucifer ever wanted that he hasn’t achieved.

But there is nothing–nothing–in heaven or hell or any realm between that gives him more pride than you.

Your sweet laugh, your infectious smile, the way your eyes close when you’re so fucked you nearly forget how to breathe… every piece of you makes him feel alive in ways he never thought possible; a startling truth he’s reminded of every time you say his name. A hard truth he can no longer pretend to loathe when he’s between your legs, coaxing out your third orgasm of the day, your hands knotted in his dark hair and voice weakly repeating his name like a prayer.

Lu-ci-fer.

Each syllable slow and broken, but there–there, for him, because of him. Not Mammon, or Diavolo, or that other wretched human–him.

It’s the only prayer he’d ever grant. God may have made you, but Lucifer has claimed *you, and he will spend every day for the rest of eternity proving that. You are *his, and not in the way Mammon is his to torture or he is Diavolo’s to command or Satan is the very flesh from his bone; no, you are his because you chose him.

Who wouldn’t be proud of that? Who wouldn’t want to spend their days on their knees, worshiping every crevice of your perfect body, pulling every sinfully hedonistic sound and look and quiver from you–you, the one who changed everything without even trying. Who would ever be so stupid as to think they could have had enough of you?

You could have anyone in the devildom at your altar, but you choose him to be your disciple. And he reminds you why for the third time that night, dragging his gloved fingers slowly in and out of your drenched cunt, his sharp nose rubbing against your clit as your legs shake on either side of his head. “Just like that, my love,” he murmurs into your fluttering core. “Keep saying my name. Be a good girl and give me another, and I’ll let you cum on my cock next.”

You struggle to catch your breath, barely able to keep your chest upright enough to try and lock eyes. Lucifer’s dark gaze meets yours, a smirk tugging on his lips when you start to tremble from a brief puff of hot air against your sensitive clit. You’re not sure if you’re trying to pull him closer or push him away when your fingers dig into his scalp but damn it all, the only thing your body is capable of doing is moaning each syllable of his name like it’ll be the last thing you ever say.

“P–please, Lu–Luci–I just want–you–”

He slaps your clit, but it’s the way he chuckles at how your body spasms that sends shivers down your spine. “Is this not enough?” His face hovers over your folds, thumbs gently spreading you apart. “Aren’t my fingers and tongue good enough for you?”

He asks as if he wouldn’t spend the rest of your life between your legs; as if the mere act of giving you pleasure hasn’t made a mess of his own pants once or twice already; as if he weren’t the one watching you with pleading eyes, a look of barely-veiled desperation begging you to let him keep worshiping you.

Your lower lip trembles, and your initial protest of, “s’not the same–” is drowned out by an obscene moan as Lucifer plunges his tongue inside you completely. A thumb continues to rub at your clit, and faster than you thought possible, your thighs are clenching the demon’s face. If he’d been a normal man, he wouldn’t have had the strength to keep your hips pinned with one hand *and *a steady pressure on your clit with the other, while simultaneously pulling away enough so your liquids completely cover his lower chin and blissed-out smile–but Lucifer is not a normal man.

He is a demon, and demons take what they want… and he wants you. Now, and tomorrow, and for the rest of his existence. To be on his hands and knees, servicing you, pleasing you–

Never has he felt like this before. Never has he felt so helpless, so weak, so–human.

It’d make him furious, if it wasn’t for the fact that you hoarsely whisper his name, kiss-swollen lips sounding holier than any saint. If it wasn’t for the way your hand finds his, fits in his, holds his so gently, as if you’re afraid he might be the one to break, not that he’d broken you.

“Good girl.” Lucifer stands and kisses your sweat-slick forehead. Humans, *he thinks in equal parts disgust and reverence. *So… fragile.

Your eyes flutter in exhaustion but stubborn refusal at missing a single second with your lover; drenched in sweat, breathing as if you’d just run a marathon. Weak, and fragile, and human, and–he needs you. He needs you, now, and tomorrow, and forever, but if he didn’t get you right this second, there would be hell to pay.

So despite knowing your body can’t handle much more, he unzips his pants, gently stroking your inner thigh to try and relax you for what’s to come. “I knew you could do it, my love. Do you want your reward?”

Eyes still closed, you nod instantly. Hands already lifting from the bed and reaching for him, weakly trying to sit up so you can provide him even just a fraction of the pleasure he’d been providing you. “Ah!” Lucifer slaps your hand away, gently stroking his leaking cock as he settles between your legs once more. “Use your words. Do you want your reward?”

“Yes,” you breathe, settling back on your forearms and forcing your body to awaken as you watch your lover with giddy anticipation. “Lucifer, please, please, I want–I want you inside me–”

With a growl, Lucifer bends over you, catching a leg and hitching it over his hip. The mewl of desperation you let out when he hesitates nearly makes him cum on the spot.

“You’re a desperate little thing tonight, aren’t you?” he coos mockingly, gently stroking your face before he grips your jaw between his thumb and forefinger. Your hand catches his wrist, increasing pressure to match his, until you’re writhing beneath him–made all the worse by the heat you can feel from his cock, but not him. “That’s alright, my love. I’ll give you what you want. Just one more, alright? I have work to do.”

It won’t be the last. You know it, he knows it, probably even God knows it–but that doesn’t matter. Not when you feel like heaven, not when you pull him close and tell him over and over and over that *you need more, you need him,**Lucifer please–*

Maybe his father was right. Maybe not all humans are bad–maybe some of them are worth serving, after all.

∻ Mammon ↠ g r e e d ⤲ s l o t h

If anyone were asked who the greediest one in all of the Devildom was, it would unanimously be considered MAMMON. It is his sin, after all; he is the physical embodiment of excessive desire, and just as Beel’s appetite for food knows no bounds, Mammon’s cravings for material things is equally limitless.

So why is it you who can’t get enough?

You’d gone to Mammon’s room earlier with the copy of notes he’d asked for. It started out innocent enough; you knocked, he let you in, then he begged you to stay and help him study. It was like every other day, from the way he sat so close to you on the couch that his thigh was flesh against yours and how he managed to barter correct answers for kisses, and today, like every other day, you found yourself settled comfortably in his lap, arms lopped around his neck as you read off questions from the last multiple choice quiz he’d failed.

The only difference seemed to be in how Mammon was getting an unusually large number of questions right.

“If I didn’t know better,” you laugh breathlessly as Mammon trails his lips up the hollow of your neck, “I’d say you’ve been studying.”

“‘Course I’ve been studying,” he murmurs, hot air tickling the sensitive skin below your jaw, “whaddya call this?”

“Fun,” you tease, pulling back to cradle the white-haired demon’s face. “And I believe you’re the one who said studying could never be fun–”

“Stand corrected,” Mammon huffs, immediately diving forward to capture your lips once more. His hands roam down to your hips, where he squeezes the flesh gently. Feeling emboldened, you rock your hips, then giggle when Mammon’s forced to pull back from your kiss with a groan so low, it rattles your bones. “Studyin’ is fun. S’long as it’s with you, though.”

You laugh and lightly kiss his lips. “Good answer.”

Once, twice, then on the third, one of Mammon’s hands darts up to your head and holds you in place. His lips, so soft against yours, so sweet on yours, move slowly. Gently, he parts yours with his, and as his fingers start to twine in your hair, he dips his tongue in.

This kiss is like no other the two of you have shared… and you’ve shared a lot. The quick, chaste ones when you first began this arrangement; the teasing, smirking ones he’d steal when he got an answer right you’d expected to be wrong; the open, messy ones that were almost more moan and spit than actual lips and air and inevitably led to someone’s shirt being ripped off; the gentle, caring ones on exposed shoulders or foreheads at the end of your “study” sessions that, somehow, so slowly you didn’t even notice, became more intimate than the way he filled you perfectly.

But this… this kiss was somehow all the old yet something new, all at once. It was deep, and not just in the way he sucks on your tongue but how he pulls you in to him, fingertips pressing into your skin as if he couldn’t get close enough–not that you mind, as you wrap a hand around the back of his head and try to bridge the very atoms of space between you. His lips move slowly, his air warm but fresh as he doesn’t even pull away to breathe; instead letting you be the one to give him life. His palms, large and slender on your frame, slowly travel over your body, from the base of your spine to cradling your cheek, and then he pauses. He pulls back. He rests his forehead against yours, wipes a thumb across your cheek, and breathily laughs. “You’re so–beautiful, ya know that? Prettiest treasure I’ve ever seen.”

And how are you supposed to respond to that? To being flattered by the Avatar of Greed, who’s notorious for never being satisfied; to being kissed like you mean something to him, to your first, to who you hope to be yours forever–to the growing dread in your heart that one day, likely soon, the Avatar of Greed will want more than you can give, and he’ll leave you.

And yet–every time you try to speed things up, try to hastily slacken his tie or unbutton your shirt and try to remind him why he should stay, stay now and stay forever, his hands catch yours. “Not yet,” he whispers, and when you whine in protest, he merely starts to kiss you like that again.

Like you’re what he cherishes most in the world. Not his gold, his clothes, or his car–but you. And you always would be.

“Mammon,” you breathe into his lips, “please.”

“Not… yet,” he answers. His hands trail along your sides, lightly bunching your shirt before letting the material fall as he cradles your face. You catch his wrists and pull back from his kiss with a pout.

“Why not? Don’t you want me?”

Mammon has the audacity to laugh. “Are ya serious? Can’t you tell?” He snaps his hips up, chuckling at the harsh intake of air you suck in when his cock, straining hard against the zipped fabric of his uniform, slides against your clit. “‘Course I want ya, silly girl. I want ya s’bad, makes me stupid.”

You roll your eyes and shove at his chest, only for Mammon to catch your wrists, keeping you pinned against him. “Evidently not, since we’ve spent all this time studying.”

Mammon shakes his head, his smile soft and contagious as he leans towards you. “Ya know what they say, precious… practice makes perfect.”

His lips silence whatever snappy retort you don’t have time to conjure, and instead, you lose yourself in him. In the way his lips move in tandem with yours; the way his hand presses between your shoulder blades, arching your back into his chest; the way his eyelashes flicker against your cheek every so often; and the low way he whispers your name when you try gyrating your hips against his.

“Ya tryin’ to be the end of me or somethin’?” he drawls in exasperation, resting both palms on your hips to still your movements. He rests his forehead against yours, staunchly avoiding your gaze as he keeps you still.

“I’m tryin’ to get laid,” you drawl back, dragging your fingers down Mammon’s wide shoulders to rest on his abs–just the way you know he likes. “I thought–that’s what you wanted?” Mammon tenses, and you pull away. Your hands come up to grab his chin, forcing him to look at you. His cheeks are flushed, and despite not protesting at the way you move his body, his eyes refuse to meet yours. “Mammon? Isn’t… that why you invited me? To fuck?”

He holds out for precisely 1.4 seconds, before his eyes flick to yours and he loses all composure. “Yeah,” he admits, and he doesn’t know whether to be encouraged or heartbroken at the way you seem to be able to breathe again. “But–”

He pauses. He watches your eyes widen, he feels the air catch in your throat, and then he watches your neck remain still. One heartbeat; two heartbeats; three heartbeats–

“Jus’... wanna take my time with ya today, s’all.”

There’s something more desperate about the way he sucks on your neck now, something that has you squirming and moaning and pulling his head back before just the feeling of his lips on your skin makes you unravel.

“What’s so special about today?”

Mammon shakes his hair free of your grasp and latches onto your neck again. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close. “Nothin’. Somethin’. Dunno, jus’... jus’ realized somethin’. S’nothin’.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing…” you tease, rather enjoying this secretive side of him. “Doesn’t feel like nothing, either.” With a pointed roll of your hips, Mammon lets out a groan, and he bites your neck in retaliation. Just a little nip; not enough to break skin, but enough to bruise. Enough to leave a mark that won’t fade for a few days, at the very least.

The first mark he’s ever left.

“Mammon!” you scold, but it lacks bite; especially when the white-haired demon meets your gaze while licking a soft stripe along the already-bruising skin before pressing a gentle kiss on the most tender spot.

“Like it when ya say my name,” he responds, pressing kisses all the way up to your lips. “Like it better when ya moan it.”

So you do; over and over and over, even though he does nothing besides kiss you. Occasionally, he’ll bounce his leg; and occasionally, he’ll let his hands roam to cover your breasts, teasing your painfully erect nipples briefly before trailing back to your hips; but that’s all.

“I think I like whatever it is you’ve realized,” you say when the two of you finally break apart. Your breath is heavy in the air, chest heaving as fingers trail up and down Mammon’s still-clothed chest.

Mammon smiles. “You don’t even know what it is.”

You hum in agreement, then laugh. “Don’t have to. Not if it means you’ll keep kissing me like that.”

Meeting Mammon’s gaze makes your heart do funny things. Both rapidly beating and seizing at once, shrinking four sizes but growing so large it might burst; making you feel so full, so complete that it just slips out before you can even think to catch it.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Time freezes. The weight of the world hits like an ice bath, and it’s all you can do to close your eyes. Your fingers knot in Mammon’s shirt, and you try to memorize the way the fabric feels; the softness from his detergent, the heat emanating from his chest beneath, the steady pulsing of his heartbeat, the rough callouses of his fingers as they wrap around your wrists–

“Hate to one-up ya, precious, but I know I’m in love with ya,” he says, and time comes crashing down. “S’what I realized today, and s’why I wanna take my time with ya tonight, and s’why I’m gonna spend every day by yer side, doin’ whatever ya want, s’long as you let me–”

The rest of his confession is cut off by your lips, but for once, Mammon doesn’t mind being interrupted. Not if it means he can take his time with you tonight and prove to you that an eternity of him by your side is something to be certain of.

∻ Leviathan ↠ e n v y ⤲ p r i d e

LEVIATHAN thought he knew what pride was. He thought it was the feeling he gets when he finds a rare Ruri-chan doll that they stopped manufacturing decades ago and he has the highest bid, or maybe when he beats a tournament he spent all weekend holed up in his room competing in, or maybe even accurately translating the hidden chapters of TSL that appeared after seven years of radio silence.

But none of that comes close to the way he feels right now; to the way his heart threatens to burst in his chest as you softly lick the underside of his heavily erect cock, tits threatening to burst over the top of your maid uniform, remnants of his last orgasm still glimmering on your breasts.

“What’s wrong, Leviachan?” you ask, sweetly popping off his cock and lazily flicking your wrist. “You look flustered.”

Levi lets out a pitiful whine and sinks lower in his gaming chair. A hand reaches out to knot in your roots, guiding your mouth back to where he desperately needs you. “Don’t-don’t tease,” he tries commanding, but the way his voice cracks gives him away. “This is–this was your idea, remember?”

And it was; it always is. Because even though it makes Leviathan’s heart so full to see you on your knees for him, it never happened because of him. You decided when the best time to suck him off is; and like your perfect plaything, Leviathan always let you. He could never say no to you, his pride and joy. His favorite collectible; the only one of your kind.

It irritates him, a little. The fact that you hold this much power over him. The fact that you can show up in a trench-coat while he’s in the middle of beating his latest video game (a puzzle game, one that requires complete concentration or you have to restart from scratch), and with a simple unknotting of a belt and ring of a bell, have him wrapped around your finger.

If it wasn’t the maid outfit you wore beneath your coat, it was the fluffy handcuffs you attached to his wrists before sinking to your knees that rendered him speechless; and if it wasn’t the way you sunk to your knees, nuzzling your cheek against his thigh and batted your pretty eyelashes as you begged your Leviachan to help you feel good that broke him, it was seeing the dainty choker spelling out his name in silver letters along your throat.

His release had splattered over your chest before he could even process what he was looking at, and by the time his mind caught up to his body, you were already suckling at his flushed cockhead once more.

Leviathan’s wrists yank weakly against the handcuffs as his hand travels from your scalp to where the lowlight of his gaming console illuminates the silver letters dangling against your throat. His heart stalls as he hooks his index finger around the chain, and a throaty giggle slips out your lips as he yanks you forward with just his finger.

No, he wasn’t imagining it when he came; that really is his name, adorning your body, for all the Devildom to see.

“Mine?”

With a smile, you nod. A smaller hand wraps around Leviathan’s slender wrist, and your press a kiss to the pulsepoint just within. “M’all yours, Leviathan. Figured the others should know, too.”

The handcuffs were just for show–or if they weren’t, they are now, because Leviathan snaps them with ease. He stands roughly, stumbling slightly as his pants catch around his ankles. His grip on your neck never falters as he raises you with him, then tugs you backwards on top of him as he collapses on the floor.

“Need you,” he mutters through feverish kisses, plastered messily all over your face and neck. His hands fumble with your get-up, and although you laugh when he rips the material clean off your body, your whine of, “Levi, that was expensive–” causes him to nip your ear.

“I’ll buy you another.”

He doesn’t even both removing your skirt–if that’s what that sliver of material could be called, anyway. It barely hides your ass, pooling atop your thighs in the place he wishes his hands to go. With the fluffy handcuffs, now broken, still decorating each write like cotton candy bracelets, Leviathan lifts the pads of his fingers to your mouth. Obediently, your lips part and you lick them slowly, tongue wrapping around each digit like it had just been lapping at his cock.

Leviathan whines. He flips you on your back, hovering over you as your own hands messily unbutton his shirt, lips meeting in a sticky conglomeration of spit and desperate pleas to feel each other. His spit-slicked fingers are gentle compared to the ferocity with which he kisses you, stroking between your folds before dipping in, catching your release and spreading it along your clit.

“All for me… r-right, baby?” Leviathan pants as he pistons one finger in and out of your gummy walls. “All dressed–dressed up for me, all wet–all wet for me–”

“Yes,” you mewl, “for–for you, Levi–only for you!”

That’s all it takes for Leviathan to lose the last of his composure. He slides into you without warning, filling you to the brim. The breath is knocked loose from your lungs, and the way Leviathan is quick to cover your lips with his, swallowing any further moans or whimpers of his name.

He pulls back when he feels your walls fluttering around him. Your heels dig into the small of his back, pressing his hips even deeper into you–as if that was possible. As if Levi hadn’t taken advantage of every single second to be buried as deep as possible within you.

Tenderly, Levi brushes some of your sweat-slicked hair out of your face, and even more careful, he presses a kiss to the hollow of your throat, right above where his name sits pretty. “You look so pretty… is this because—because of me, b-babe? You look all pretty—because I—make you f-feel this way?”

You nod desperately, carding your fingers through his silky purple locks. “All–all ‘cause of–of you, Levi–”

That’s all it takes to push him over the edge, and with him–you. You come undone around him, meekly burying your moans into the taut muscle of his bicep as the world briefly fades to white.

Levi is filled with that feeling again; the one that makes his chest seem too small. The one that causes all sounds but your staggered breathing to fall away, and all sights but the one of your flushed cheeks and lovesick smile and fluttering lashes disappear to darkness, and all feeling but the sensation of you snuggling into his chest feel as foreign as the human world.

He may be a shut-in, he reasons as he tucks his head into the crook of your neck. He may be an otaku, and awkward, and you might be able to do a hell of a lot better than him–but he did this. He makes you do bold things, like wear a maid outfit under your coat all day just to tease him, or bring handcuffs you know can’t hold him just to see if he’ll listen, or make the absolute prettiest sounds he’s ever heard in his life. He makes you feel better than you’ve ever felt, and that makes him feel good.

Really good.

Good enough to start pressing light kisses up your neck, teeth catching on your new silver chain, hand gently trailing along your side. “D-don’t forget that,” he says through grit teeth. You link your fingers with his, slowly parting your legs to reallow him entrance. “I make you feel good, right? Me. Don’t–don’t ever forget that.”

“Never,” you promise–and just like that, the heart Levi didn’t think could get any fuller grows two sizes.

| Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor | Barbatos, Diavolo, Simeon, Solomon |

#obey me smut #obey me brothers smut #lucifer smut #mammon smut #leviathan smut #lucifer obey me smut #mammon obey me smut #leviathan obey me smut #obey me x reader #lucifer #leviathan #mammon #kasey's adventure book! #makings of greatness #kingdum of om #cw:domestic! #cw:worship!

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Two

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done , Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : this one is pretty PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing in this chapter is warning worthy, there’s a little tiny bit of sex talk but that’s it. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~2.8k

A/N : this chapter happens in the days after chapter one. Thank you so much to everyone who read and liked the last chapter, it really means the world to me!

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

You didn’t have the nerve to tell Tammy that you’d rejected Billy’s advances and that she’d probably not get the job because of you. You let her hold onto the idea that you’d been doing something good for her, instead of something stupid for you. The whole thing reminded you of why you’d become friends with her in the first place; when Tammy was being nice to you, when she wasn’t making petulant demands, she could be great to be around.

But, she kept asking when your date with Billy was and by the third day of waiting to hear about the job, you were taking extra deliveries just to avoid the apartment. You knew you’d have to tell her sooner rather than later, but you really were hoping it would be later, at least after you’d figured out a way to explain to her that you’d cost her a job because you’d told Billy Russo no.

And when she came into the den screeching and clutching her phone? You thought she finally knew the truth and were ready to give her the apology that you’d spent the last few days trying to practise. 

“I got the fucking job!” She squealed, jumping up onto the sofa beside you.

“You - what?” It took a moment to hear her over the screeching and - no, surely Billy hadn’t given her a job just as a way of getting to you. He was a businessman, he wouldn’t do something so dumb just to get you into bed. 

After the initial excitement fizzled out, Tammy dropped onto the sofa to sit beside you. “I start on Monday! I can’t believe I’m finally going to get my parents off my back.”

“I thought you didn’t even want the job at Anvil? Before the interview you said it sounded boring.” 

“That was until I saw the guys that work there, I mean, it’s literally a building full of hotties. And I can still do auditions in the evenings and on weekends. Besides, most people work crappy jobs before they get famous.” To your surprise she was being very mature about the whole thing, though you weren’t sure how she’d deal with actually working a nine-to-five job.

“Well, I’m happy for you.” You forced a smile because you were happy, even if you weren’t sure that it wasn’t all going to fall apart when Billy realised he was never going to convince you to go to dinner with him

“Okay but you’re going to have to promise me you won’t fuck this up for me.”

“How would I even -”

“I get it, Billy Russo is hot, but I know what you’re like with guys...”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You knew exactly what she meant, and that was the worst part. Tammy had tried, and failed, in the past to set you up, to put you on dating apps, and play wingman for her during double dates, and every time it had ended badly.

“Just don’t go leading him on and then ghosting or whatever it is you normally do to guys. I don’t need you pissing off my new boss.” 

“I’ll try really hard not to, Tammy.” If she noticed you were being sarcastic, she didn’t seem to care.

It wasn’t long before she disappeared off to celebrate with her friends, leaving you alone in the apartment, leaving you to try and figure out what was going on. As much as Tammy was - well, let’s just say she had certain skills that would be helpful in a secretarial position, you just couldn’t figure out why she’d been given the job.

Billy Russo wasn’t an idiot, that much you were certain of; he wouldn’t hire Tammy just because of you. In fact, he probably wasn’t even involved in the hiring process. You were overthinking it. And, ultimately, it didn’t even matter because you weren’t going to see him again. 

You weren’t going anywhere near the Anvil building ever again.

But that didn’t stop you from opening your laptop and Googling his name. 

It felt like an invasion of privacy, reading through articles about Anvil’s financial successes, about the heroic ex-Marine who’d built the company from nothing and now gave so much back to his fellow veterans. Your stomach knotted at every photo taken at some gala or corporate event where he had some stunning woman hanging off his arm (women who, upon reading the image captions were revealed to be leaders in their fields; lawyers, models, psychiatrists, and even a surgeon). Jealousy had you closing your laptop, and self-loathing had you making a promise to yourself to stay away from Billy Russo and Anvil.

But it wasn’t that simple. You kept thinking about his smile, the way his dark eyes had looked at you like he wanted nothing more than to take you apart piece by piece, and the way his laugh had felt like the rarest sound you could draw from him. Most of all, you kept thinking about the kiss, playing it over and over. Sometimes you even found yourself wishing that you’d just said yes - what was the worst that could have happened?

(No, no, you didn’t want to think about that.)

You couldn’t stop yourself from going back to the Google search, over and over again, just to look at him. There was just something about him, something that made you feel like a ridiculous teenager with a crush, but every time you looked at his eyes, it did something to you; it made you want something you knew you couldn’t have. 

You needed to stay away from him.

But Tammy had other plans.

Her first day of work, the following Monday, she’d begged you to drop her off. Then, once you were there, she’d demanded that you help her carry her things to the door, using the reasoning that she had taken the job for you as well as her, so you could keep the apartment that you both loved so much.

All you wanted to do was get out of there as quickly as possible, so the moment Tammy was by the door you were pushing the box into her arms and stepping away, all the while telling her that you couldn’t pick her up later because of work. Tammy tried to complain, tried to talk over you, but you didn’t stop; you were going to get as far away from that building as quickly as possible. Ignoring her frustration, you shouted good luck over your shoulder and started back towards your car.

Only, there was a surprise waiting for you when you got there.

“I like your strategy; in and out before anyone can notice you.” Billy smirked, his arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the driver’s side door of your car.

“Well, clearly it didn’t work...” you answered awkwardly, stopping a few feet away from him, out of his reach.

“It’s hard to pull off when you’re dealing with a Recon Marine,” he laughed, still smirking that smirk that looked so good on him. “I hoped we’d run into each other again.”

“It’s hardly running into each other when you own the building and you know what my car looks like,” you shrugged and Billy’s smile waivered a little. Your stomach knotted at the sight, at the way his playful smile dimmed to something that seemed almost forced. He took a breath, unfolded his arms and stood away from your car.

“Look, I just wanted to talk - to apologise - I guess I was a little heavy-handed last time,” the words were enough of a distraction that he managed to take a couple of steps towards you. “I just - I’m not very good at...” he let out an awkward laugh and threw his arms out in a shrug, not finishing the thought.

“Asking women out?” You offered with an uncomfortable huff of laughter. “I don’t believe that.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?” And, just like that, you were being pulled into another one of his little games. 

You could have walked around him, could have told him that you needed to go, but you didn’t. The truth was, that you enjoyed it, you liked that playful side of him, even though it wasn’t fair of you to indulge him when you knew you’d still have the same answer for him at the end of all this.

“Because you’re - you.” And that was all the answer you could offer him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Billy laughed and your cheeks started to warm again.

“You don’t exactly strike me as the type of guy who struggles to get dates?” He remained silent, a questioning look on his face; he wanted you to say what you both knew you were thinking. “You know, the whole tall, dark, and handsome thing you’ve got going on...”

“And you think that makes it easier for me?” His smile was back, that playful glint in his eye that you just couldn’t seem to say no to. 

“Doesn’t it?” 

“Well, you said no, didn’t you?”

Shit. You’d walked yourself into a trap.

“Not because of you - or, I mean, not because of anything you did. I just don’t date.” You started to play with the cuff of your hoodie, not sure what else you were supposed to say to him.

“What if it wasn’t a date? What if it was just two people going for dinner?”

“I think it’s a bit late for just dinner, Billy.”

“‘cause I kissed you?” your gaze dropped, cheeks burning hotter. “I shouldn’t have, I should’ve waited, I just - I have poor impulse control when it comes to things I want.”

You didn’t say anything - what could you even say to any of that?

“What if it wasn’t dinner?”

“Billy...” you sighed.

“Is it really so bad that I want to spend some time with you? Get to know you a little?”

Was it? The terrifying thing was the fact that he almost had you convinced, almost had you relenting and agreeing with him.

“I’m not really worth knowing,” you shrugged, “I’m nothing special, Billy. I’m just a bike messenger who spends most of her time driving her roommate around.”

“I like talking to you, you make me laugh,” Billy shrugged. “And I think you are worth knowing, and I don’t give a shit if you’re a bike messenger or a brain surgeon, it doesn’t change anything.”

“Right, one of New York's most eligible bachelors taking a bike messenger out to dinner, I can just picture it,” an embarrassing snort of laughter escaped you, “probably couldn’t take me to any of the fancy places that you’re used to, so what does that leave? Pizza Hut or Five Guys?”

“‘I’ll take you for pizza if that’s what you want. We could go right now?”

“Billy, it’s eight-thirty in the morning, I’m pretty sure Pizza Hut isn’t open yet.” You laughed, despite the feeling that you’d been letting this play out for far too long now.

“I’m sure we could find a way to kill some time until it opens?” 

“Oh really?” You shot him a look, eyebrows raised, very unimpressed with what you thought he was implying.

“Hey, I meant go get a coffee or something, get your mind out of the gutter.” He grinned and you couldn’t help but laugh again.

“I’d just be wasting your time.”

“I don’t think I’d consider any time spent with you a waste,” he retorted without even missing a beat.

“You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t, but I want to.”

“Why?” Why was he being so persistent? What did he think he was going to get from you?

“Why does anyone get to know anyone?”

“I don’t know.” And you really didn’t, that was the saddest part of all. “I’m not your type.”

“And what do you think my type is?” He asked, barely managing to hold back a laugh.

“Doctors, lawyers, psychiatrists - women who make at least six figures a year?” You realised far too late what you’d given away. “Women whose wardrobes cost more than I’ll make in my lifetime?”

“Did you Google me?” Billy asked, not even trying to hold back the smirk.

“N-no, I just - it came up when I was researching the job for Tammy.”

You fell silent and, for a few moments, so did Billy, long enough for it to make things feel all the more awkward when he finally spoke again.

“I’m not a bad guy, y’know.”

You looked at him, confused, not sure what he meant. Your fingers kept picking at the stitching on your cuff, and Billy seemed to notice.

“I’m making you uncomfortable.” He was, but you hated that he knew it. It wasn’t so much him that was the issue, it was you, it was all the messed up things in your past that made you the way you were.

“I don’t think you’re a bad guy, Billy." You said, not wanting to address whether or not he was making you uncomfortable because it was less him and more the general situation.

"Then let me prove it to you." You didn’t respond. “Just give me one night.”

“And, what? I’m supposed to fall madly in love with you?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“Not that. I don’t - love isn’t a thing I’m capable of, it’s not something I’m interested in.” He explained, like it was such a simple and ordinary thing.

“Then why waste a night together if you don’t even want it to go anywhere?”

“There are plenty of other places it could go. I could show you the best night of your life and, at the end of it, if you wanted to walk away from me, you could.” Billy shrugged.

“So you just want sex? There are easier ways to get laid, Billy.” You told him with an awkward sort of laugh.

“I don’t want easy, I want you.” Normally you’d laugh at a line like that, but the way he was looking at you, the way he looked like he was barely holding back from showing you just what he meant right there in the parking lot kept you silent. “Tell me you haven't thought about it, that you’re not thinking about it right now; how it’d feel to spend the night with me inside you.”

You bit your lip, giving away far more than you wanted to.

Yes, you’d thought about it - how could you not?

“Billy...” you sounded almost breathless and that really didn’t help the point you were trying to make. 

“I can make you feel things you’ve never felt before.” The way he said it made you want it, made you want things that you knew you shouldn’t.

“So, you’d fuck me then leave me?”

“Not if you didn’t want that.” He took the slightest step forwards and you couldn’t bring yourself to recoil.

“But you said -”

“I said I wasn’t interested in love, that doesn’t mean that it has to be a one and done thing, if you don’t want it to be.” Billy offered like this was some business deal and you were negotiating the terms. You could see why Anvil was so successful with him in charge. 

“Fuck buddies then? Until - what? - you get bored of me?” You didn’t even know why you were encouraging him, why you were playing his game and letting the conversation drag on.

“Or you get bored of me,” Billy shrugged. “Admit it, you’re thinking about it. You’re thinking about what it’d be like to fuck me.”

“Maybe I am, but that doesn’t change anything. I don’t date and I don’t think sleeping with you would do either of us any good.”

He waited a moment before dropping; “was the last guy really that bad?”

And, just like that, everything seemed to change.

“What?” It was obvious though, wasn’t it? You should have been surprised that he hadn’t put it together sooner; you didn’t date because your ex had been a real piece of shit to you. A moment later, you shook your head. “It’s not - I don’t like to talk about it...”

You steeled yourself for what came next; the endless questions, trying to figure out what had happened to you and just how bad it was, how he could fix you. Only, it never came. He didn’t push, didn’t try to convince you that he was better than whoever might have hurt you. Instead, he seemed resigned, like he knew he couldn’t do any of that.

“I’m sorry,” he offered softly, “I’ll leave you alone.”

And, just like that Billy seemed to give up, his smile almost completely gone, replaced by a look that you didn’t want to think about. It wasn’t quite pity, but instead an uncomfortable compassion, an almost understanding. Someone had hurt him too, you realised. You frowned, frozen in place as he closed the distance between you and gently pressed his lips to your cheek.

“You know where to find me if you ever change your mind.”

As he pulled away from you, your breath caught in your chest, but you didn’t dare watch as he walked away from you. It was too dangerous, you knew you’d say something, knew you’d call him back.

CHAPTER THREE

END NOTE : so the first two chapters were mostly set up, from next chapter onwards things will actually start to go somewhere. From this point on, things will get smutty and dark. The next three chapters are mostly done and I'll probably start scheduling chapters to post on the weekends going forwards.

Thanks for reading, I hope you have a wonderful day!

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x female reader #ben barnes #cmiyc ff

[w1ldthoughts]

All of My Tomorrows

Synopsis: Aftermath of Dangerous Delusions.

A/n: Last part of the series! Thank you all for reading as always, you all mean everything to me.

Series Masterlist

“Literally what were you thinking not telling anyone? Did you really think this was all just magically going to disappear?” Her best friend lays into her over the phone. She can tell by the huffing and puffing that Mani is probably raging at her while getting her morning Pilates in. The worst part is, she’s right. Everyone was right. She’d fucked up…majorly. “You are so lucky Jack has you on house arrest until this situation is sorted because if not, I would fly to Kentucky myself and beat you up for being so dumb.”

“I know,” she sighs, pulling out her laptop to distract herself with work. “What I did was stupid. I should’ve told him and realize that. I heard you the first time. And the second. And the third but definitely the fourth.”

Mani laughs, mentally reminding herself not to continue her rant, even if she really wants to call her out again. “I love you, so much. I want you to be safe and when you feel unsafe I want you to speak the hell up. No more suffering in silence.”

Four days had come and gone since the incident. Four days of Zoey sleeping alone, replaying everything that happened before things went south. The smile on his face when she practically tackled him. How warm and cozy he felt when he hugged her back. She missed him so badly there was almost a physical ache in her bones. After finishing up her nightly routine, she laid her head on the pillow, trying to will herself to close her eyes and enter a true REM cycle.

This is probably the first time where she’s really had to face her demons. On several occasions she was the master communicator when Jack fell short, she was the shoulder he could lean on for support after he apologized and promised to be better. Now that the shoe was on the other foot she had to do the same. He had every right to be upset maybe that’s why this was so hard. She knew she acted irrationally, but she needed to come to terms with why.

At 2am, she looked at her phone and rolled her eyes, hoping that she’d gotten more than two hours of sleep and was sadly mistaken. She tiptoed down the hallway and down the stairs to grab a bottle of water. Jack was sitting on the couch, holding the remote. But the tv wasn’t on.

“It’s um—it’s hard to sleep without you, knowing that you’re down the hall.” His voice sounds rough, like he’s been screaming but she doesn’t push it. She nods instead, taking a seat next to him but keeping a little distance. Zoey felt like she needed to earn the right to be in his space again and that required some real honesty. He hands her his water, assuming that’s what she came downstairs for. Jack was usually the one to remember to stay hydrated and kept water in the room. But she forgot.

She thanks him, taking a few sips, the cool liquid quenching her thirst but did nothing to calm her nerves. “I had a nightmare,” she whispers looking straight ahead at the black tv screen. “I was back in the parking garage but I was alone. And I—just stood there, by myself. It felt so…cold and dark. But then I woke up and I remembered that I wasn’t alone. I’m not alone and I don’t have to do by myself. But Jack,” she pauses, a small sob escaping her, “I was so scared. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like that in my life.”

There it was. The wall that he’d built around himself the last few days handling this mess came shattering down as soon as he saw her cry. Nothing in this world mattered anymore, not his feelings, not his ego or pride. He scooted over to hold her close, shedding a few tears of his own, telling her to take her time and that he wasn’t going anywhere.

She was crying so hard her voice was hoarse when she found her words again, a simple fact that almost brought him to his knees. “I didn’t tell you not only because I was scared and didn’t want you to worry,” she sniffles, wiping a few tears as he keeps her in his arms. Zoey looks into his soft blue eyes, a much more tender look than the ones she’s been getting lately. “Jack I was being selfish. Our time together is so limited and I want it to be about us. About peace and love and this just tainted this fantasy and bliss that I was living in and I wasn’t ready to let it go. So I acted like it wasn’t happening and hoped it would go away…until it wouldn’t and I called Mike for help.”

“I should have come to you, but I wasn’t ready to fully acknowledge that this was actually happening.”

He sits in silence for a few moments, letting out deep breaths. “Zo, baby I get it. I fucking hate long distance. I hate being away from you. And when I see you or get to talk to you I want it to be only good things too. But that’s just not real life. I want you to come to me not just for the lovey dovey ‘everything is perfect stuff.’ I want you to come to me with the bad stuff too, the scary things, the uncomfortable things, all the things. Because I want to hear whatever you have to say for a very very long time. And I want to be the first person you go to because you are mine.”

“Whenever anything happens to me, you’re the first thing on my mind. You’re my first call. And it really hurt that you didn’t feel the same but I get it now. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do any of this alone. There is no amount of distance that is enough to keep me from taking care of you, believe that.”

“I do. I do believe that,” she squeezes him tighter, taking in the warmth that she’s been missing. “I will work on being more open and honest with you, cause you’re my person too, I wanna tell you everything. Promise.”

She yawns and he runs his hand down her back, telling her they should head back to bed. He walks behind her up the stares and she tries to bite back a smile when he walks into the master bedroom behind her. Jack crawls into bed on his side, opening his arms to let Zoey in.

“Don’t even think you’re off the hook yet, I’m just tired and I sleep better when you’re next to me,” he whispers with a straight face. “Get some sleep.”

She reaches up to kiss his jaw, sending chills down his spine. “I love you Jack Jack.”

“I love you too,” he kisses the crown of her head.

It’s over. Two simple words that he’d been waiting to hear for almost a week. Every single day he sat by the phone, scribbling out words on a notepad, trying to get work done but his mind just went back to it. Back to her and her safety. Hearing Mike say those two little words over the phone was like getting a semi truck lifted off of his chest. It allowed him to finally let out a deep breath, and the tears followed. There was a relief like nothing he’d ever felt before and he’s finally starting to realize what they mean when they say that love is painful sometimes. There’s been this constant nagging pain that he couldn’t pinpoint but it was as if all of the pain he’d been feeling stemmed from being worried. The sheer horror at the thought of someone intending to hurt Zoey had actually been causing him physical pain.

And now it was over.

Jack sighed again and wiped his tears, exiting his office. Zoey took one look at his face and knew what it was immediately. She practically leaped into his arms and held on tight, thanking him.

“You don’t have to thank me. Baby you are my life, I will die before I ever let anything happen to you. I mean that.”

His light chuckle brings her immense peace and she gives him a kiss, his lips feeling so familiar, feeling like home. This is what love is, holding your person ever so tightly after a fight, the feeling of security even at the most vulnerable and scary moments. It’s about admitting when you’re wrong and having the courage and trust in the other person to let you know you’re wrong so the next time things will be done differently. All of these moments, these painful but necessary life lessons are what brought her to this moment with her person. And there’s no one else in the world that she’d ever do this with.

She pulls away from the kiss to just take it all in. “I love you so fucking much. Even though I almost gave you a heart attack, I—I love you and I want everything with you.” Jack swipes his thumb under her eye to catch a stray tear. “It was so wrong of me to even doubt that we couldn’t handle this together and I will never ever keep anything from you again. I am so sorry.”

He gives her a soft smile and another tender kiss on the lips before speaking. “I love you like…so fucking bad. Been waiting my whole life for you. I’ve manifested a lot of things in my life but I thought I was asking for too much, so I never thought I’d actually find the perfect partner. And then here you come, everything I could’ve wanted and all the things I had no idea I needed, all wrapped up in the most beautiful person to ever walk this earth. And you think I’m just letting all that go? You are crazy.”

“I say all that to say…I forgive you.” His hands settle on her hips pulling her in even closer just to look at her like he’s memorizing every detail of her face…and she’s memorizing his.

“Do you wanna go finish that moon puzzle?” Zoey asks him, breaking the silence.

“You want me to get down on one knee and propose to you right now don’t you?”

This love is physical, full of desire. It is practical in a functional sense where it has a healthy dose of ups and downs. It is playful, fun, joyful and full of laughter. It’s a love that is going to last. And most importantly? It’s a love that Jack and Zoey intend to keep…as long as humanly possible.

#jack Harlow #jack Harlow imagine #jack harlow x oc #jack x zoey #jack Harlow fanfic #jackman thomas harlow

[heavenlyakin]

Starboy Pt 2: Pop star!Atsumu x Fem!Reader. 18+ only! 

cw: reader has red hair and hazel eyes, reader blushes, nipple play, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, atsumu calls reader “doll”, general smut warmings. Also not beta’d or edited too well, pls forgive any mistakes. 

wc: 4.6k

A/n: part one flopped, seemingly since there was no smut, but that won’t stop me from writing more of this AU bc it’s quite literally the most fun I’ve had writing in years. I hope those of you who truly enjoyed part 1 enjoy this too! Reminder “--” is a pov change and “-- – –” is a time skip! Alsoooooo happy early birthday atsumu ilysm <3 

Part 1

–

“I can’t do this. I want to go home,” your eyes fill with more tears, spilling down your cheeks and the sides of your face. Your body shakes, and you want him off you, away from you, and out of this fucking hotel room. 

Atsumu moves, sitting on the side of the bed, standing up, and pacing by the bed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” 

“No, I’m sorry-” you choke on a sob. 

What the fuck has come over you? 

You get off the bed, standing on the other side, facing Atsumu. He doesn’t look hurt, but there’s something on his face, something you just can’t read. 

“It’s okay,” he puts his hands up, “I’m not worried about me.” He steps closer to the bed, reaching his hand out but you don’t move. “We can get you home if that’s what you want.” 

You nod, knowing it’s what’s best. “Thank you,” you squeak out.

– 

Atsumu drops his hand to his side and walks around the bed and towards the table where he left his phone. He ignores all the other notifications, pulls up his manager’s number, and texts him to send for a car for you. He responds quickly, letting Atsumu know he’s working on it. 

“I’m getting a car to take you back home. Is that okay?” He asks you, laying his phone back down on the table. He places his hands behind him, rocking back and forth on his heels. 

“That’s fine,” you walk past him and into the bathroom, where all your stuff is. 

Atsumu has to stop himself from following you in there, wanting to give you space and not freak you out more. What happened? He didn’t think he misread your body language or the sounds you were making. 

A knock at the door gets him moving, and not towards you. 

“Do we need her to sign a NDA?” Jeff is all business when he opens the door. 

“Why don’t you fucking scream it, so she hears you. No! What the fuck?” Atsumu feels anger bubbling in his gut. 

Jeff lifts his hands in defense and shrugs. “Better safe than sorry,” he sighs, clearly just annoyed with this entire fiasco. He enters the room, looking around like he’s scanning it to see if anything is out of place. 

You come out of the bathroom, change out of your pajamas, and into jeans and a hoodie. “Sorry to cause you all this trouble,” you tell Jeff and he doesn’t smile. 

“It’s no trouble.” He tells you, but you can tell from his voice he doesn’t mean it, he’s just being polite. 

Atsumu wonders if you can hear it too. A few more words are exchanged but he doesn’t hear it. He feels distant like he’s hearing underwater. You start to leave with Jeff, and Atsumu stays in his place in the middle of the room, unable to walk you to the door. This is all so stupid, you shouldn’t be leaving, he should beg you to stay and forgive him for whatever he’s done. 

As you walk out the door, Atsumu can’t contain himself anymore. 

For the first time since the start of his career, he trashes a hotel room. 

– – – 

You lay your head back on the headrest of your office chair, looking up at the ceiling. You don’t turn the lights on in your office, the iridescent lighting always gives you migraines, so you stick to softer lighting with lamps around the office. It’s almost four o’clock, so close to when you’re able to leave and enjoy the rest of the day and then the weekend off to yourself. 

It’s been 2 months since you ran away from Atsumu’s hotel room, and you find yourself thinking about it more and more as time passes. You thought it would be the opposite, but here you are thinking about that night again as if you don’t have several reports to approve and travel to arrange for your coworkers. However, none of that matters when you have this intense guilt building in your chest.

The sound of an office door opening and then closing draws your attention to the hallway, forcing you to sit up and see who may be leaving. You never know when someone is going to pop in and ask something stupid or even worse: ask for a favor. Your boss waives at you as she walks past the door, and you know it’s time to start gathering your things to leave. 

You’re walking out the door when the clock strikes four, not caring that you clocked out a few minutes early. You need to finally talk about what happened. The drive home isn’t too bad, since the rush doesn’t start until about another hour. Your roommate’s car is in its usual spot when you arrive, and you’re glad she’s home. 

“Hey!” Clara, your roommate, greets you at the door. “I brought home pizza!” 

You smile, dropping your purse and work bag on the floor by the shoe rack. You’ll clean it up later. She already has drinks and plates with napkins on the coffee table beside the massive pizza box. She ordered from the one place in town that sells pizza that looks like it straight from a 90s sitcom. 

“Thank god, because you’re gonna want it after I tell you what I have to tell you.” You sigh, sitting on the couch, opening the pizza box, and loading your plate with a slice. 

“Work gossip?” Clara wiggles her eyebrows and you laugh, but shake your head no. 

“So, you already know that I met Atsumu Miya and his brother after the shows in LA, right?” 

She nods, her eyes narrowed. “Yeah, and you didn’t even Facetime me so I could freak out with you.” 

You laugh, shoving her gently and she smacks your arm away. “Okay stop it!” You say between giggles after you stop hitting each other. “But, I didn’t tell you where I was the weekend I was MIA until like three a.m. a few months ago.” 

“How do these two things relate?” She asks, taking a bite of her pizza slice. 

“Well,” you take a breath, then exhale loudly. “I was with Atsumu.”

“Shut up,” Clara rolls her eyes. “How is that even… HE WAS IN PITTSBURGH THAT WEEKEND,” she interrupts herself to yell. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “He came here actually, for just a few minutes. Saw my stupid poster on the wall and everything.” 

“And you didn’t wake me up?! —-- you’re so selfish!!” This is exactly how you expected her to react. “Why are you telling me now?” 

“So, here it goes…” you tell her the story from the night you met him in the gas station, to the concert, to having his team send you home. You don't skip out on any details, including kissing, cuddling, and almost sleeping with him. 

“Why did you leave?!” She all but yells at you. 

“I was scared!” You admit, and for the first time, you realize that was truly it. You were scared of being intimate with him and that being it for you and him. “Clara, I was so scared he’d never talk to me again. And now, I’m pretty sure he never will.” 

She drops her pizza on her plate, puts it down on the table, and wipes her hands with the napkin. “Come here,” she opens her arms and you hug her. 

Clara has been your best friend and roommate for five years now, going through some of the hardest times of your life with you, and overall being a better friend than you ever could ask for. So, hugging her feels like home most of the time, and right now it’s like being a kid and needing your mother to hug you to make it better. 

“You’re way too wonderful to be worried about something like that…” she tells you letting you go and you nod. “If he’d done that, I would have called him out on Twitter anyway…: 

“Oh shut up,” you laugh and toss a throw pillow at her. “Thank you for listening.” 

She catches the pillow and slaps you with it. “Oh, we’re not done here… I have so many questions.” She drills into you then. She asks you about how you brought him home, how you fell, how you did this and that, and everything you can imagine. 

After an hour you’re drained and the pizza is cold. “Okay, I think that covers it all,” you laugh shaking your head when she goes to ask another question. 

“Well, honestly honey, if he’s half the guy we think he is he won’t let your memory of him be you running away.” She tells you, cleaning up the table. You help her and follow her into the kitchen. 

“I don’t know, that’s a lot to ask. After all, I’m sure he’s moved on to some other fan now.” You both know about the rumors of all the flings he had when he first toured the U.S. a few years ago. Why would he have changed with growing fame? 

“He didn’t make you sign a NDA, did he?” She asks, running dishwater and looking over to you at the trashcan dumping the pizza crusts you didn’t eat. 

“No, he didn’t.” You answer, handing her the plates and she dunks them in the dishwater, starting to scrub it after. “Although, I heard his manager ask if he wanted me to. Atsumu said no.” 

“Then maybe he didn’t think of you as just another fan. I mean, why would he have gone through that and not had to sign an NDA, like honestly…” she furrows her brows as she thinks, “it’s kind of embarrassing for him.” 

“Shut up! You’re making me feel worse now!” You whine, drying off the dish she hands you. “It’s not that I didn’t want to sleep with him…” 

“I know,” she laughs, “but I don’t know. Something just doesn’t seem finished here.” 

– 

Atsumu has three more shows, then the tour is over. 3 months felt like a lifetime, but none of it has felt the same since that night in Pittsburgh. Everything in him is telling him to let it go, let you go, but he can’t. He’s had your phone number since that night, his manager passing it on to him after you left. 

Why did you leave your number while you were running away from him? 

The scene has played in his head over and over, and he’s certain he didn’t do anything intentionally that could have hurt you. Everything he did was following your lead, even when you asked him to stop. He has wondered if you heard his manager’s comments about the NDA and perhaps that’s why you left it. 

He’s been too worried to just text you, especially now that it’s been months. He can’t just call you, can he? 

He draws another squiggly line next to the lyrics on his notepad, looking up into the studio and seeing his band still working on the music from earlier. He finished recording vocals and just needs to wait for them to finish up. This new album came to him in the last few weeks, surprising not only him but the band as well since he’d intended on taking a short hiatus to relax for a year before going back to writing and performing. 

“Do we have time for one more?” Atsumu asks, finishing the last line of the song he’s been fooling with for a few weeks. “I think I have this one figured out.” 

– – – 

Your phone dings and you look over irritated you didn’t set it to silent when you got to work. It’s nearly lunchtime, so you pick it up to check it. No one is going to care if they find you on your phone just for a few minutes. 

New single, “I’m Not Sorry” is out this Friday! 

Atsumu’s tweet notifications are still on. 

You click the link, taking you to the Spotify page, and look at the new cover art for the single. You can’t believe what you’re seeing as you look at it. You’re absolutely sure that this picture of him is with the Pittsburgh skyline. You close the app and go to Instagram, looking to see if he’s posted the single cover there. 

He has. 

You’re able to zoom in on the photo now, and you’re absolutely sure that’s where the picture was taken. It’s evening in the picture and you wonder if it was the night after you left. Atsumu had one more show and definitely had time for promotional photos since you weren’t in the way. 

You send the Instagram post to Clara, asking her if she thinks it’s Pittsburgh too. She reads it instantly, sending a zillion emojis with words strung between them confirming your suspicions. You lock your phone and consider what you can do. 

He has your number, but you don’t have his. You could tweet him, but what would that do with the hundreds of thousands of other fans doing the same? Instagram might be better, but you’re sure he doesn’t check his DM’s there either. But… what harm could a comment do? 

You unlock your phone, go to the post, comment a winky face emoji under the post, and close the app. You wash your hands of it after that, if he’s online enough to see it and it’s not just his PR team running the account, then maybe he’ll see it. 

The rest of your day, you ignore your phone. 

– 

“This has to be her,” Atsumu says, showing the stand-in guitarist your profile on Instagram. It’s private, but the profile photo is unmistakably you. “Right?” 

“Dude,” the guitarist, whose name is escaping him, sighs. “I’ve heard bits and pieces of this story and I gotta tell ya, I don’t think this is worth the heartache.” 

“Oh, what do you know?” Atsumu rolls his eyes and hits follow on the profile. 

– 

“-----!” Your name is screamed before the door to your apartment is even open. Clara runs in, looking frantic. 

“What’s wrong?” You jump up from the couch. 

“You’re not going to believe who I found outside.” You finally walk to where you can see her, and the tall blonde behind her stuns you. 

“Atsumu,” you gasp. 

“-----, can we talk?” He asks, his face soft and his eyes focused on you and not your roommate who can’t seem to stand still in front of him. 

“Yeah, come on in.” You tell him and he slips off his shoes, following you to your bedroom. 

“You took my poster down,” he says before he’s past the doorway. 

“Oh,” you shut the door behind him, “I felt weird staring at you after everything… It’s in Clara’s room now.” 

“What happened?” Atsumu asks, turning to face you. 

While you know he’s not trying to intimidate you, you feel small standing in front of him, backed up against your bedroom door. 

“Sit down, and we’ll talk.” You point to the bed, unkept this time since you were running late this morning and didn’t have time to make it. 

He sits, pulling the duvet over his lap, making you smile. You sit beside him, careful not to get too close in case he’s upset with you and doesn’t want to touch you. 

“I’m really sorry.” You start, “I shouldn’t have run off.” 

“I’m not sorry. I just…” he stumbles for a moment, “I need to know what I did wrong.” 

His eyes are full of hurt and you feel like a shell of a person for doing that to him. But, how do you tell him how you feel without hurting his feelings? 

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, you know,” you blush, “sleep with you.” He doesn’t speak, content to just listen. You take a deep breath, then decide to tell him. “I just got scared that that’s as close to you as I’ll ever be.” 

He reaches out his hand, laying it on your hands on your lap. “Why would that be it?” 

“Atsumu, why wouldn’t it be? You’re busy and I belong here. You have your choice of anyone in the world, so why would one night with me mean anything?” You sound harsher than you intend, but it’s too late to take it back. You look down at your hands, idly picking at one of your hangnails. 

“I don’t want you for one night, —--!” He takes his hand back, running it through his hair. “I have feelings for you that even I don’t understand, but I know I need more than just one night with you.” 

You look up at him, tears forming in your eyes. “Why should I believe that?” 

“I don’t know,” he takes your hands in his, stopping your picking. “I just know we’d be perfect together.” 

“Atsu-” he interrupts you with his lips, pressing against yours with such strong ferocity you fall back against your pillows, pulling him with you. 

He pulls away, his eyes wild with desire and need. “If you want me to stop, I will.” He kisses your neck and you stifle your moan, way too aware that your roommate very well could be outside your door listening in. 

“Atsumu, Clara is home…” you whine as his teeth bite into your sensitive skin. 

“I gave her a signed record with the new single on it and asked her to leave us alone…” he smiles, a laugh on his breath. “She’s either in her room or she left to go show it to your other friends. That’s what she said she’d do anyway.” 

“Can I at least check?” You ask, shaking your head and laughing. 

He nods and you get off the bed from under him. The hallway is empty and her door is closed. A quick listen through the door tells you she’s either being suspiciously quiet or she left. 

“All clear,” you announce coming back in the room. 

Atsumu pulls you onto the bed, this time on top of him. He holds your face as he kisses you, like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he’s not holding you. His tongue explores your mouth and you can’t help but groan into him. Through your sweats you can feel how hard he is under his pants, pushing against your cunt as you grind on him. 

“If you keep that up, we won’t get to have too much fun.” He warns, breaking away from your mouth. 

His lips glisten with yours and his spit, making you feel something carnal in your gut. You mumble a quick sorry and kiss him again. Your fingers lace in his hair, tugging whenever he bites at your bottom lip. You’re flipped over onto your back before you realize it’s happening. Atsumu hovers over you, looking at you like you’re a meal and he hasn’t eaten in days. 

“I’m serious, tell me to stop if this isn’t what you want.” His voice is so soft it makes you want to whimper. 

“I want you,” you tell him and he smiles. 

He kisses you again, his lips warm and soft against yours. He’s gentle as he pushes your t-shirt up and over your head, revealing your nude bra to him. If you’d known this would happen, you might have changed into something a little more alluring, but this is your reality now. 

His hand cups your right breast through the bra, a muffled moan leaving his throat. He spreads your thighs with his knee. You want to grind down onto his knee but he lifts your torso up to unclasp your bra, so you’re unable to. It falls off your arms and breasts and Atsumu tosses it somewhere behind him. 

His lips wrap around your left nipple, his hand still massaging your right breast. You arch your back, moaning and closing your eyes. Atsumu’s tongue is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. Have you ever had this much pleasure from just your nipples before? You shouldn’t already be breathing this heavily, but you’re too aroused to stop now. 

“‘Tsumu,” you whimper and you feel him smile against your breast. 

“Tell me what you want baby,” he looks up at you, twirling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Between my thighs, need you there,” your face heats with the embarrassment of asking him so clearly, but you can't help it. 

Atsumu kisses both your nipples, then down to your navel. His tongue drags across your skin and you can’t stay still. You writhe below him, loving the sensation of his tongue on your body and his hands gripping your hips to try and hold you still. His fingers loop into your sweatpants, pulling them down over your legs and off your body, your panties going with them. 

Once they’re off the bed and you’re completely bare in front of him, you realize how much clothing he has on. His pants, hoodie, and presumably shirt under it are still attached to him. 

“Take your clothes off or I’m going to rip them off myself.” You tell him and he grins wildly. 

“I’d love to see you try.” He laughs, sitting up on his knees and ridding himself of his hoodie, and the shirt underneath. 

You sit up and help him with his belt. He kisses you as you unbutton his pants, slipping your hand in and grabbing his cock through his boxers. He moans as you wrap your fingers around it, slowly stroking him and looking up at him through your lashes. 

“-----,” he moans, “stop that or else.” 

“Or else what?” You smile as sweetly as you can, gripping him tighter and using your other hand to push his pants off his waist and thighs. 

“I’m going to fuck you until you’re crying.” He grabs your face, making you look at him straight on. “But, I planned on doing that anyway.” 

You feel your stomach do flips and smile, releasing his cock and letting him take the remainder of his clothes off. He settles back overtop of you, his fingers trailing around your pubic hair where it meets your lower stomach. He kisses you as his fingers slide between your cunt, and he moans. 

“This wet?” He asks against your lips. “You must really want me, huh?” 

This side of Atsumu is fascinating and hot. You whimper in response and he slips two fingers into you. You gasp as they slowly pump in and out, his lips working on that sweet spot on your neck. His fingers are longer than you expected, filling you up so much more than you thought possible. 

His lips trail down your body again and you feel a wave of pleasure through your core as his tongue drags across your clit. You whine as he sucks lightly. Between his tongue and fingers, you’re not sure what you like more. The combination of them both is overwhelming and more than you could ever wish for. 

You dig your nails into the sheets, moaning as he continues to lap at your cunt. Your eyes open and close every few seconds, taking in images of him between your thighs looking happier than he does when thousands of fans are screaming for him. Your stomach tightens and you feel that familiar knot forming, the tension threatening to break you. 

“Atsumu,” you whine, “gonna cum.” 

He hums against your cunt, and you can’t hold back anymore. You cum over his fingers and mouth. He continues to fuck you with his fingers through your climax and you go limp against the bed, panting with every breath. He finally unlatches from you, bringing his fingers to your mouth. 

“Open up,” he smirks and you do. 

He slips his fingers in your mouth and you suck on them as he watches. Your tongue wraps around them, slowly sucking all your cum from his fingers. He watches you, his other hand stroking his cock as you suck on his fingers. He moans, closing his eyes, but only for a second. They’re open again and focused on you a moment later. 

“Fuck,” his voice is deeper now, sensual. 

You pop his fingers out of your mouth, leaning forward and kissing his chest. He grabs you by your hair, tugging your head back, tilting you to look up at him. 

“Now, now,” he smiles, his eyes wild, “lay down. I’m not done with you yet.” 

You scoot back, laying down against the pillows, spreading your legs for him. He crawls between them, kissing your stomach, up between your breasts, and then your lips. He kisses you several more times, his cock pressed against your stomach, and you swear you can feel him throbbing. 

“Gonna make it?” You ask, a giggle following. 

“Shut up,” he chuckles, sitting up on his knees and bringing your legs over his shoulders. 

He settles between them, your thighs pressed against his body. He lifts your hips, angling you towards him. He pushes his cock against your entrance, pausing and looking at you, his eyes desperate for reassurance. 

You nod. 

He’s slow, his cock pushing inside you and stretching you bit by bit. You close your eyes, feeling the girth and the sting that comes with it. You squeeze the bedsheets, and Atsumu pushes all the way into your cunt, his cock fully sheathed in you. Your thighs tremble and you open your eyes, noticing that Atsumu looks like he’s in complete bliss. 

You smile, letting out a whimper as you do. He opens his eyes, a smile creeping on his face to match yours. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he starts to pull out of you, slowly beginning to thrust, holding your thighs for leverage. 

“So fucking tight,” he moans, closing his eyes again and thrusting into you harder. 

You whine, finally past the burning and feeling the pleasure you’ve only dreamt about. Each thrust takes you higher, closer to the edge. His thrusts are hard, but meticulous, every thrust hitting that spot only you thought you could reach when you’ve used toys. 

“Atsumu,” you whimper, your thighs shaking again. 

“What is it, doll?” He smirks, stalling and pushing closer to you, your legs pressing against your body. 

“Oh fuck,” you whimper as he goes deeper, your body seemingly bending at his will. 

“I could record your little whimpers, ya know. Put it in a song and let the world hear how good I make you feel,” he whispers, his lips against your ear, thrusting deeper into you. 

Your face warms and that feeling of being pushed over the edge returns. 

“It wouldn’t be the first song you inspire, and definitely not the last.” He laughs, kissing your neck and fucking into you harder. 

Even with the cheesy lines, you feel yourself falling for them. He could do nothing wrong now, and your body craves more of him if that’s even possible. Your nails dig into his shoulders, and you worry you’ll break the skin, but you can’t help it. 

“Atsumu! Gonna!” You can’t tell him the rest before you’re clenching around his cock. 

This time it feels like waves throughout your body. Your eyes squeeze shut, your toes curl, and your body goes limp beneath Atsumu. He uses this chance to use your malleable body to his advantage. He moves your legs off his chest and shoulders, spreading them and pressing against you. 

His tongue swipes against yours as he fills you up, his cock throbbing inside you. You can already feel the cum running down your ass from your abused cunt. You have to break away from his lips to breathe, but his teeth catch your bottom lip. He playfully bites at it and you laugh. 

“Holy-” 

“Shit,” he finishes for you. 

He presses his damp forehead against yours, his breathing still heavy. His body is warm and weighted against you, making you feel small. You wrap your arms around him, holding him as close to you as possible. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he tells you but you shake your head. 

“This won’t last forever.” 

“It will for as long as you want.”

#atsumu miya smut #miya atsumu smut #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hq smut #hq x reader

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Shiro. Shiro. Shiro. I have important information. Shiro. Shiro.”

“Yes, Keith. I’m listening.”

Shiro looks at his dumbass little brother patiently, setting down his knitting. Keith is staring at the space slightly to the left of where Shiro is sitting, eyes unfocused. Shiro lets him sit in the silence for a bit, knowing the meds made him a little slow and loopy. He’ll get there.

He can’t tamp down a fond grin. It happens so often it should be boring, now, but loopy Keith will always be funny. It was like every bit of jadedness he’d picked up over the years melted away, leaving only the awkward, loveable dork Shiro knew and loved.

“I have — I have important information,” Keith repeats haltingly.

“I got that, buddy,” Shiro encourages. “Want to share that info? I’m listening.”

Keith hums. He blinks a few times, gaze finally locking onto Shiro’s, who smiles at him.

“It’s — it’s about Lance.”

Shiro fights to keep his smile from getting mischievous, to keep his expression pleasantly neutral. Oh, this was going to be good.

“Yeah, bud? What about him?”

Keith blinks again, his expression grave. “His tongue peeks out a little when he smiles real big, Shiro. A real smile. The one he gets when he talks about his family.” Keith takes great care to enunciate every word, tone completely serious. “That’s — it’s Very Important, Shiro. Okay?”

Look, Shiro’s a disciplined guy. He has a lot of internal strength. Really. But keeping a straight face as his baby brother looks him dead in the face, eyes as serious as a heart attack, and starts talking smush about how much he loves his crush’s smile?

C’mon. Come on. Of course he laughs a little! It would be weird if he didn’t!

“Shiro!” Keith scolds. “I’m serious! It’s important! We have to make sure Lance smiles like that. He gets sad sometimes. We gotta remind him he’s important, so he smiles.”

“You’re so whipped,” Shiro says fondly.

Keith goes back to staring at the wall, just as serious as before.

Shiro wonders if he’s thinking about Lance’s eyes, this time.

It won’t be the first time Shiro heard about them, that’s for damn certain.

———

“I did what.”

Keith’s face is so red that it’s concerning. Or, well, Shiro would be concerned, if he wasn’t so busy losing his shit.

“‘We have to protect his smile, Shiro’,” he mocks between wheezes. Keith wacks him full-force with a pillow.

“Fuck off,” he says hotly. “There’s no way I said that.”

There’s a moment of pained, contemplated horror, before Keith looks at him aghast. “Did I?”

Shiro laughs so hard he goes silent. Keith hits him again, but it’s weaker.

“Oh my god, I did fucking say that. I fucking — oh my god. Oh my god!”

Keith collapses back on his bed. He puts his pillow-weapon over his face and screams. Shiro finally gets ahold of himself, forcing his laughter down. He pats Keith on the shoulder, trying very deeply to be supportive and understanding even though literally all he wants to do is laugh and laugh and laugh.

“There, there,” he says, voice shaking.

Keith removes his pillow just to glare at Shiro. “Fuck off,” he says again, but this time it sounds resolved. “God. Do I — do I like him?”

Shiro blinks. Is he — is he serious? “Are you being deadass with me right now?”

“I mean, I know he’s hot and everything.”

Shiro cannot believe his fucking ears. He feels like that stupid Spider-Man meme. ‘Do you see this shit, Daisy?’ -type beat. Because there’s no fucking way. No fucking way this boy does not know.

“Like I’m attracted to him, sure, who wouldn’t be —”

Holy shit.

“— but, like. I don’t like him, do I?”

Holy shit.

“I mean, he’s my rival! How can I like him?”

Holy shit! Holy motherforking shirtballs! This little dumbass has no idea!

“Like, yeah, sure, he’s occasionally funny, I guess. And I guess he’s kind of sweet — did you know he checks on all of us before bed every night? Yeah! That’s kind of cute. And, god, there’s all those little gifts he makes, and he’s so protective —”

Shiro just stares at Keith with a quiet kind of awe. There’s no way his brother is this much of a dumbass. Is that even possible? For someone so smart to be so fucking dumb?

The sigh Keith lets out can only be described as dreamy. “ — and shit, Shiro, you should see him kick ass in training, he’s been working on this insane triple flip maneuver…”

All of a sudden Keith trails off. For the first time since Lance was brought up (by Keith, Shiro might add), Keith is silent.

“Oh my god,” he says, shooting up straight and looking at Shiro with wide eyes. “Oh my god, Shiro, oh my god. I’m in love with him! Oh my god!”

Because Shiro loves his dumbass little brother, he holds himself back from saying ‘no shit, Sherlock’.

“Congratulations, doofus. You’re officially the last to know.”

Well. He mostly holds himself back.

Kind of.

He holds himself back a little, okay? That counts for something.

Keith gapes at him. “Everyone knows?”

Shiro nods, because even the allies they’ve only met once know.

“How can everyone know? I didn’t even know!”

“Well, you’re kind of oblivious,” Shiro says.

“Hey!”

“Sorry, bud. It’s true. I mean, you didn’t even know you liked Lance until a couple minutes ago.”

“Of course I didn’t! It’s not like it’s obvious!”

Shiro decides it’s in his best interest to keep his mouth shut. Keith tends to get a little stab-y when annoyed. He’s easily provoked, like a particularly skittish kitten.

“Oh my god. Is it obvious? I thought you were exaggerating!”

“Uh, no. Anyone with a basic understanding of human behaviour knows you’re absolutely down bad for Lance, bud.”

Keith makes a kind of squeaking noise, which is hilarious and also makes Shiro wish he had recorded it.

“Holy shit! Does Lance know?”

Shiro can’t quite hide his grimace. “Well, he doesn’t… not know, per se.”

“That’s so embarrassing, god, I am going to eject myself into space —”

“Well, I don’t think it’s that big of a deal. Lance likes you, too, so I imagine it all evens out, yeah?”

“Lance fucking likes me?”

Shiro needs some shut-the-fuck-up practice. Seriously. He clears his throat.

“Um, yeah. He regularly complains about you being too chickenshit to ask him out.”

“He regularly — I’m too — if he knew I liked him, how come he didn’t ask me out?”

Shiro shrugs, although he’s pretty damn sure he knows why.

“Maybe you should ask him,” he says.

Keith’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Of course I’m going to talk to him. In fact —”

He throws his legs over the side of the bed with a pained grunt.

“Woah, there, Casanova,” Shiro says, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “Back down you go.”

“Absolutely not, Shiro,” Keith argues as he lies back down, “I need to talk to that dumbass. I need to tell him —”

“And you will have your big gay moment,” Shiro promises. “I’ll send him over, okay? After you nap. No need to rip your stitches.”

“I don’t want to nap,” Keith says petulantly, crossing his arms like a six year old.

Shiro pats his brother’s head as he tucks him in. Shiro can’t help but grin to himself. He remembers doing this for a much younger little kid, half the size but just as grouchy. He pushes Keith’s bangs back, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. Keith grumbles about germs, but allows it.

“Talk to Lance later. Heal for now. Love you, kiddo.”

Keith rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitch. “Whatever.”

Shiro shakes his head with a grin, flicking Keith on the nose before heading for the door. Just as he’s closed the lights and steps out into the door frame, Keith stops him.

“Shiro?”

Shiro freezes. Yeah, his voice is a little deeper, a little more grown, but it’s the same little kid who woke him up in the dead of night because he had a nightmare and wanted Shiro to tuck him back in.

“Yeah, Keith?” His voice cracks with emotion, but Keith doesn’t comment on it.

“…Thank you. For staying with me. For, uh, your advice, too, even though it kind of sucked.”

Shiro laughs quietly. “Anytime.”

“And, um. I love you too. Even if you’re a dweeb.”

Shiro smiles so wide his eyes crinkle, and turns back a bit to look at Keith.

“I know, you little goober. I love you too.”

#i know the end is sappy #i love older brother shiro that’s why #shiro #takashi shirogane #keith #keith kogane #broganes #keith & shiro #klance #whipped keith #dad shiro #older brother shiro #shithead older brother shiro #pining keith #oblivious keith #vld #voltron #my writing #fic #longpost

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Songs from my playlists that represent how the 141 loves you (+bonus König)

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

“Wasteland” by Woodkid

Most of what I used to be had vanished in the waves/The memories of the boy I’ve been were drowning and you saved them/Now I remember the joy and the meaning of the fate/The color of the truth and the sound of sunny days

You have reminded him what it’s like be human again. When you look at him, he is Simon. He’s your Simon. He’s the man whose cheeks you’ve held countless times, kissing the corners of his eyes, tasting the paint on your lips but you couldn’t care less. Your small hands reach out time and time again and pull him back from the edge. And he’ll always take your hand, he might fight you at first, insistent that he’s too dangerous and that you’ll get hurt if you stay. But you always fight back. You’ll always fight your way back to him. You make him feel wanted, safe, human.

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

“Everlong” by The Foo Fighters

Breathe out/So I can breathe you in/Hold you in/And now/I know you've always been/Out of your head/Out of my head, I sang

He’s such a hopeless romantic. You became his entire world, the light in his eyes, and when you two first met it was like coming up for air after being submerged for so long. And he never wants to let you go, he feels like it’s always been you. You’re the mile marker along the highway of his life, there is a ‘before’ and then there is only a ‘with you’. Nothing is as good when he’s on his own, but with you? The sun’s out, the birds are singing their stupid songs, the flowers are in full bloom, and he can breathe again.

John Price:

“Thank You” by Dido

Push the door I’m home at last/I’m soaking through and through/Then you handed me a towel/And all I see is you/And even if my house falls down now/I wouldn’t have a clue/Because you’re near me

You’re his motivation. You’re what gets him through his long days. Knowing that there’s a home with you waiting for him is what pushes him. He has a picture of you in his wallet that he always looks at, and he’s so fucking tired but he keeps going for you. To see you, to hold you, to kiss you, to cherish you. And when he finally comes home, his bones each weighing a million pounds, and he sees you, it all just melts away. Nothing matters. He tunnel visions and it’s just you. There’s nothing happening outside these walls, it’s just you, and that’s all he needs.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:

“Lose It” by Oh Wonder

Downtown we let it go/Sunset high and our bodies low/Blood rush in the hazy glow/My hands, your bones/Looser we break the scene/One step deep as you fall to me/Heart clap, we skip a beat/Count one, two, three

He’s the warmth that flows through your veins, he’s the sun that shines on your cheeks, he’s the rhythmic sound of cars driving on wet asphalt after a storm. And you? Sweetheart, you’re the twinkle of city lights on the skyline, you’re the sound of laughter from a couple caught in the rain, you’re the steady soothing rhythm of a love song. You’re his favorite song. He’ll always move to your beat, hands on your hips, forehead against yours.

König:

“Just the Two of Us” by Grover Washington Jr, Bill Whithers

I see the crystal raindrops fall/And the beauty of it all/Is when the sun comes shining through/To make those rainbows in my mind/When I think of you sometime/And I wanna spend some time with you

He’s so at home with you. When you’re together all his worries melt away. Every thought that gets overplayed in his head start to quiet down the closer he is to you. There’s no one he’d rather be with than you. There is literally no one else in the world. And when you’re sat between his legs, reclined against his chest watching a movie, his heart is drumming in his chest. Only it’s not an anxious beat, it’s a beat that plays for you. It’s a beat that knows you’re the most wonderful thing in his life. You’re the sip of cold water in the middle of the night when his nightmares rip him from his sleep, you’re kissing his sweaty forehead and reminding him that you’re here. That it’s just the two of you. And he’s at peace again.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #cod x reader #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #mw2 x reader #call of duty #cod mwii #john price x reader #price x reader #soap x reader #ghost #mw2 2022 #simon ghost riley #john mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #captain john price x reader #john soap mactavish #john price #soap mactavish x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #könig x reader #könig call of duty #cod headcanons

[thekinkyleopard]

The Midnight Snack

An Alistar x Kanai non-canon Snz Fic

A Threequel to:

“The Gathering” & “The Happy Ending”

⚠️Content Warning⚠️

Snz Fet, Fluff, Persuasion, Contagion, Smut

Author’s Notes: Idk how I let you guys so easily talk me into new fics when my requests are closed and I have so many other things I need to write but…UNCLE FUCKING CHRIST I LOVE YOU INSATIABLE GREMLINS OF SNZ. Here we are with a third part??? Already? So quickly? Who am I??? A brand new bitch. Anyway. A third to a fic I only thought I’d write one and be done with? Wild. THIS IS A THREEQUEL TO “The Gathering” & “The Happy Ending” in order to understand context, go to my blog and read those first! Id link them, but I’m lazy. 🤷🏼‍♀️ Here we go! Nai’s turn 🥳 @aller-geez Owns Draeko and Kanai, and did the art!

Description: Al wakes up in the middle of the night, still sicker than ever. He finds a way to snag his best friend’s attention…and talk him into a little late night, snack.

It was just past midnight, Draeko was fast asleep, conked, splayed out on his back. Mouth wide open, but still just as cute as he always was. He was actually taking up too much room, however, and he wound up pushing the demon he was bed-sharing with, off it. Alistar fell to the floor with a loud thud, groaning lowly as the fond fog of sleep escaped him. Suddenly extremely aware, and reminded by how sick he was still. His body was wet, slick with sweat and his sinuses were full. Weak and shaky. He couldn’t breathe out his nose, and his eyes felt heavier than usual when he was awakened. Exhaustion never felt so exhausting.

Alistar slowly came to a stand, swaying back and forth in his boxer briefs, the dizziness taking him in a chokehold. “Water….” He muttered dryly looking around the room only to find empty water bottles and nothing worth quenching his thirst. He would have to go to the kitchen. The redhead stumbled slowly through the apartment, and into the dining room where he was met with an ever wide awake Kanai. Glued to his screen. “You’re still up?” He asked with a slow blink of his squinting black eyes, trying to adjust to the brightened beams of the overhead lighting.

The Navy haired demon looked up, and made eye contact with his pathetic looking best friend. “I am…I’m surprised you aren’t sleeping off your ailments,” cocking his head to a slight angle as he looked over the red head with curiosity.

“Yeah…the pet quite literally scooted me out the bed…came to get some water…” he yawned over once that followed with a sharp, abrasive cough. The hound winced at the scene.

“Do that, your throat sounds very dry, Donnie,” the hellion spoke certainly before his gaze went back into his research. Alistar went to open his mouth, but closed it again with a loud snarf.

“Hm,” he responded, if one could say that. Alistar then made his way into the kitchen, and pulled the fridge open in one motion. It took him a second to register through the different items before he spotted a fresh bottle of water. The one thing that was inconvenient was having to hydrate the vessel. Drinking water wasn’t customary in hell.

In fact, it had been such a problem, Al ended up in critical condition several times from dehydration. Kanai had to set alarms to remind the demon to drink water. By now, it was starting to become more routine to actually hydrate but, it felt like such a stupid task to perform. The redhead snagged the bottle of liquid and shut the fridge door. He quickly snapped the lid off and pressed the bottle to his chapped pierced lips. Chugging half the bottle as much as he was capable without being able to breathe in the process. He pulled the bottle from his mouth and gasped loudly as he swallowed. “Fuck…” he heaved for a few moments, catching his breath.

Lazily, he screwed the cap back on and carried it out with him back to the dining room. Kanai did not look up this time though he could feel the presence of the other now, his duo colored, blacked eyes scanned the illuminated words before him. Al leaned against the doorway, watching the hound carefully. His head thudded painfully, his skull feeling far too big for the flesh on his head. He squinted, trying to will the pounding away. “Nai?”

“Yes, Donnie?” The hound responded, still not looking up from his current project at hand.

“Will you rub my head?” Bringing the butt end of his palm to his left hand temple, he ground into it, hoping to relieve the pressure. It just wasn’t the same when it was from one’s own inflicting. Now the navy haired male looked up and cocked a brow, eyes scanning over the sore features of his friend’s face. He shrugged his shoulders and slid back in his chair, patting the space between his legs. Without missing a beat, Alistar quickly made hast and made his way over to make himself comfortable between the hound’s open legs. He was wearing a long black band tee with loose grey sweatpants, a lazy fit that he either never changed from the night before, or specifically put on to lounge and research in. Either way, Al found it endearing.

The red head settling in, his shoulders squeezed by each one of Nai’s slender knees. The pressure was comforting. In a few short seconds, and after a few clicks, a video began to play. While it did, the hellion brought both his grey hands to the mess of Al’s loose red hair. Normally in a ponytail, but down and free for the night. His fingers tangled within the damp threads to reach the sides of Alistar’s head, he pressed his prints down, rubbing small individual circles with his digits. The demon groaned with pleasure allowing his neck to loosen and fall back into the sensation.

As the video played, discussing the deeper theoretics to physical and psychological bonding between humans, the hound watched closely as his fingers dug into his friend’s skull. Moving in short calculated circles on each side of the anti-Christ’s temples. “S’good Donnie?” Asking distractedly while his eyes watched the screen closely.

“Mhmmm….” The redhead melted into a puddle but the more he began to relax, the stronger that familiar, delightful tickle presented itself inside his frontal sinuses. “hE..hH…” he struggled and stuttered.

“Just let it out, Al,” The hound told him lazily, his hands still roughly mulling and pushing into the demon’s skull.

“HehH’eEZSCHhh’iiEW…..” Alistar sneezed into the palm of his open hands, a cloud of mistral spit coating the surface of his blackened skin. “Ooff…”

“That was a big one,” Kanai ruffled his palm through the demon’s red hair now. He looked down, and Al looked up, their eyes met and the anti-Christ smirked, lifting his brows suggestively.

“Want to try it?” The redhead braved the question, not sure he could canoodle his way through Kanai’s current train of all night deep dives…but he was going to fucking try.

“What?” The hound asked curiously tilting his head as he continued to gaze down lifelessly at his best friend.

“Sneezing and fucking,” Alistar responded back with an air of causality that continued to draw the other in. Playing on the hound’s innate need for exploration.

“Why?” Furrowing his brows with slight confusion now. What was the purpose?

“It feels REALLY good,” The demon continued through his powers of persuasion, his lips pulling up into a half smirk before licking them once.

“But I’m not sneezing,” Kanai now frowned, realizing the flaw to this plan already.

“Not YET…” Al held up a finger, drawing attention back onto the metaphorical drawing board.

“It would take a while…” the grey skinned man responded flatly but only because he was teetering the edge of thought, contemplating his desire to experience more feelings.

“Well listen, we could both benefit from this research,” Alistar continued, he was going to go down without a fight and he could already seen the hound weighing thinner the longer they kept on the topic.

“Okay, so it’s research?” Kanai raised a thin brow in his response, voice still flat with a slight hitch of interest.

“Yes,” The redhead grinned, a hint of mischief gleamed behind his black holes. Now he had Kanai right where he wanted him.

“Okay,” Now he was listening attentively, his fingers unconsciously continued to rub and dig at the other’s tense skull. It seemed to starve off the burning sensations that cause the anti-Christ to explode.

“I want to know what it feels like to be the one getting fucked while sneezing…you know, what’s that like? The FEELING..” Alistar emphasizes on the right words to keep his friend’s attention, and consideration.

“Okay…?” In a certain light, Alistar could see Kanai slipping away, but still holding on for dear life as he was always desperate to understand the redhead.

“Yes, and in order for you to also experience that feeling, you’d need to get sick,” Al continued his explanation, knowing somewhere through, he would get him fully back again.

“Right,” Kanai responded with a confident nod. Like a train on time, he was at the station, Alistar felt excitement bubbling up from within his lower stomach.

“Two BIRDS, Kanai, one stone,” too excited, the redhead threw him a curve ball, hoping his time on earth and influence may have caught up by now.

“What birds? Why a stone?” The Navy haired hellion was lost again. Alistar slapped his hand to his forehead, regretting it instantly as his brain rang around inside his skull like a giant gong.

“No…Uncle Fucking Christ…It’s a human metaphor…two problems solved with one solution…I’m sick now..you fuck me, get sick by tomorrow…follow?” He spelled it out a little more easily for him now. Kanai squinted but then nodded his head quickly in understanding, signaling to Alistar he was back in the game. Just still a little confused about the end plan.

“Following, not entirely sure where it’s leading,” he replied back honestly. Yet, it was still progress Al needed to continue.

“You get sick, I fuck YOU, boom, now you know the feeling, RESEARCH, Complete,” he pointed at Kanai, then himself, then back at Kanai and made an explosion motion with his opening fist.

“Hmm..” He sat on it for a second, he calculated the experience. Though carnal sexual experiments weren’t on his top ventures of research, he certainly wasn’t against them. Humans were incredibly sexual beings. Often he wanted to understand the nuances behind different kinks and concepts. Sexual experiences were half of what being human was about, for those that weren’t asexual that is! Fascinating the world is…he almost trailed out of the room on the topic. He did however, circle back and found himself leaning into his curiosity.

“Eh? Eh??” Alistar chimed in, knowing the distant look in Nai’s gaze meant he was wandering in a mind maze.

“Okay, yes,” Quickly he made his decision, nodding his head to match his verbal consent, and Alistar was in. Oh man, dessert had never been so sweet. The demon was a glutton for sex, compared to the other. He wanted it all the time, every way. There was no wrong way to have sex EXCEPT, without consent. You’d think as a demon it would be the opposite. Nope.

He had felt the indescribable sensations of being tightly wrapped around Drae’s hole while he blew his nose off the surface of his face. Now he would get the opposite feeling, he wanted to be stuffed to the brim, the ultimate feeling of fullness. It had to be phenomenal.

“Amazing…” truthfully, it was. Alistar was beyond excited as his throat burned and prickled with anticipation. Draeko couldn’t top him, even if he mustered the courage, Alistar couldn’t take him seriously enough. Kanai was perfect. They’d already done so a million times, so he knew it would be good. No one else in the group would give him the time of day…quick fix? Kanai. Good fix. Reliable. Loyal. He bit his lower lip, sucking on it once while Kanai searched the red head’s gaze.

“Don’t just stare at me, dude, fuck me,” rolling his eyes impatiently, he may be bottoming but he was still very much going to be doing all the bossing around. The navy haired hellion smirked lifelessly, but with that sparkle Al recognized only from hell.

“Of course, Donnie…” he replied, wrapping his hand around the underside of Alistar’s jaw gripping it to lift him from his spot on the ground. The demon gasped, his throat tightened and it triggered something buried. No longer was it held dormant by the stress relief of a massage. Like a kinked hose now, he lifted Al into his lap and as he was straddled, Kanai forced Al’s face down into a hard, aggressive kiss. Their tongues slid together quickly, rushed, and furious. The two fought ferociously for dominance, neither wishing to give up the feat but Al ground himself needlessly into the hound’s lap bucking lap. Almost throwing Kanai completely off his win.

The hound parted their lips and took a fistful of Alistar’s bright crimson locks, pulling his face back to look at the brightened light on the ceiling above him. “Go on now, Donnie, the floor is yours…” he let out a breathless chuckle. A joke he personally felt like he nailed, but his opportunity to bask in it fell short before the redhead’s body trembled and twitched. His chest collapsed and rose with such quickness, Nai looked between it and the hellion’s jarring maw.

“HEHH’DZSCHh’iEEW!” He blew out fast, and without much time or means to be polite, he sneezed into his friend’s unsuspecting face. Kanai blinked a few times feeling the new arrival of wetness hit him so suddenly in a fine mist, a few dense drops included.

“Wow…yours are very loud compared to Luciftias…” the hound noted outwardly, Alistar blushed as his thighs tightened around Kanai’s haunches.

“Bad thing? SnNdfF….” The redhead asked curiously, looking downward at his friend from the still ‘pulled hair’ position, blackened scleras half lidded.

“No…curious to how it’ll feel when you tighten up around me though,” the navy haired hellion spoke earnestly while trailing his free hand up the back of Al’s spinal chord. He shivered, gritting his teeth and rolling his shadow orbs behind his skull. He ground his hips with hungry force downward into the other’s lap, already feeling Kanai’s length growing hard in his sweats. It felt so prominent from the thin material of his own boxers, but not enough to satisfy. Just a tease.

“Oh, man, it’s gonna…Hh…feel so goHOuhd Hhah’AETSHH!” This time he aimed himself to the side, trying to have some shred of decency as this one sent his body rocking aimlessly against the other. His nose dripped and his mouth was so numb that he couldn’t even feel it. Kanai reached up and thoughtfully, wiped the ick from his face then onto the side of his pants.

“I concur,” his hand now slid up to grip the back of Al’s neck, his grasp was tight, sharp nails dug painfully into the flesh there. From two points of his head he was being forced in the position to stare at the light, that burning, triggering light. What was it about the brightness that just sent one into oblivion?

“Fuck, Nai…” he growled hoarsely, snuffling loudly afterwards. Alistar, in solid calculated motions, rolled his hips in tight circles wanting so badly to feel the slightly shorter man’s thick length, pulsating through him while his sinuses had their way with him. Kanai, on the other hand, as pheromones and hormones started to over take him, let go of the demon, momentarily. Only to pick him up by his thighs, shoving his laptop out the way using Al’s body, he forced him onto the table.

“Oooh some fire in your fucking loins…that’s it Nai, you want this….you want my cold…yo-HiH’AESSH’UE! Heh’TZsch!” Blasting inconveniently over Kanai’s face once more but this time the hellion simply licked the wet substance from his mouth. Unfazed by the assault.

“I want it…” the hound rumbled from deep within his chest as his hands began to claw the other’s boxers from off his body, tossing them across the room. Alistar sneered, sniffling twice, loudly to needlessly try and clear himself enough to breathe through his nose, watching Kanai through glossy, watering black holes. No such luck when he only found his snuffs increased the endless prickle that danced up and down his face and throat.

“Hh..hah..” Kanai crashed their mouths back together in an aggressive motion, swapping those fresh bacterium and swallowing the hellion’s incoming sneeze. So the hound thought. Yet through the roughened kiss, it persisted. His nose trickled between the mess of saliva that swapped between the two. Hands violently gripped at each other’s arms…legs…Kanai stood between the redhead’s thighs. He gripped them, almost for support, or almost, as if he intended to rip them clean off his friend’s body. Alistar groaned animalisticaly as he pulled on Nai’s lower lip. “Hheh’EZSCH!” Again, the onslaught of facial blows never ceased, it was certain within a few hours Kanai would be crawling out of his room with a fever that was inhuman. Al sat back to look upon the mess he made, chuckling with snarky satisfaction. Nai smirked, and brought up a thumb to wipe at the wet on his lip.

“So messy, you are, Alistar,” breaking the silence between the sound of staggered breaths.

“Just making sure I’m thorough, friend,” he winked his leaking blackened eye with a flirtatious smirk. The hound scoffed, and then he looked down at the red head’s exposed, hardened length, and swiftly, spit in his hand. Taking hold of the desperate cock, and slowly twisting his palm around it.

“Very kind..we don’t want to miss a bird…did I get that right?” Kanai’s voice was smooth, like room temperature butter onto crispy toasted bread. Almost like he became more composed as Alistar began to unravel.

“A-ah…yo-..hnn..sure did…” the red headed demon gritted through his clenched teeth now, hips involuntarily bucking against Kanai’s skilled working hand.

“Very good,” the hound whispered with a seductive husk, only causing the anti-Christ to slip further into pleasure as he released his control to him. He loosened under the sheer pleasant motions, his clogged up sinuses only turned harder against him. So they thought…If sneezes were sentient.

“Hah~…Hnn…Hh’HTSSCZH!” He flung a few inches forward by the sheer force of it, biting his lower lip hard he snuffed and snorted. “SNDF!” It felt so unbelievably good, a mini release as the hound tugged on his aching cock.

“Don’t waste them all before I’m even inside, Donnie…you’ll be very displeased,” licking his own lips now, Kanai was watching closely to the pleasant twists and turns of his partner’s pleasured expressions.

“Oh shit…don’t fuckin’ say tha—-HAH..TZSCHH!” Involuntarily another shot out, the more his pleasure increased it seemed the more persistent it became as Nai’s hand twisted, and squeezed around him. The Navy haired demon now slightly concerned his friend would run out of viral steam if he didn’t speed this up. To Al’s dismay, Kanai removed his hand long enough to pull his sweats down for just a few moments, as he untucked his own throbbing erection from behind the material.

“We shouldn’t waste anymore time, should we ?” Kanai taking his friend’s current state as a signal to move forward in the task at hand. Alistar’s experience. The red head was greeted with a sudden sense of clarity as his cock twitched in open air, he reached forward and gripped Kanai tightly by his left hip, bringing him closer. While looking down, he squinted a watering eye and then hocked a fat lump of spit across the tip of the other’s length.

Alistar reached down between them and took the moistened length in his open grip, sliding the saliva to coat it around every corner of the flesh, while Kanai’s head bobbed, struggling to stay upright in this motion. Eventually, the hound snapped his head back up, his gaze falling over Al’s as their eyes locked. He gripped the redhead’s flame cladden wrist and tossed it off his dick, before gripping Al’s thighs tightly. He spread them apart and pulled him closer to the edge of the table to expose his waiting hole.

“That’s right you’re going to fuck that tight ass, aren’t you, Nai?” It was hard to ignore his hormonal desires within, but they were burning like the many fires bursting inside of him. His nose continued to tickle, and he was closer to another. Almost he could taste it, metallic. He moaned low in his aching throat.

“I am…I need to now,” The hell hound grunted, jaw clenching as he pressed himself at Al’s entrance, prodding impatiently. Losing his sense of collectiveness he was nothing more than an animal subject to his natural desires.

“Yeah, Nai? You need to? Prove to me how bad you need it, my friend” Alistar reached up behind Kanai and gripped a handful of Navy blue locks, pulling their sweating foreheads together in a rough motion.

“With pleasure…Donnie..” Nai huffed breathlessly before he pushed himself fully inside, sheathed within the tightened entrance, and stayed soaking there as the redhead let out a hoarse grunt. “Come on Al, give it a go….” Slowly, at the pace of a sloth crossing the street he began to pull his length out and Al, between this pleasurable feeling and allowing the build within him rise, opened his jaw involuntarily.

“Eh’Hih’TSZZCH! HIH’T-CHS’UH!” In perfectly timed rhythm, Kanai pushed himself back in, and slammed full hilt.

“How’s it…A-Al?” He managed through a clenched jaw, his muscles flexing at the strain of such a tight fit.

“F-Fucking Amazi-ng…Nai…Don’t stop, I swea-Hh’hih… I’ll kill yo- H’TDZSCH! you…” like a broken dam, the flood gate came undone, he pushed his hips outward to meet with each powerful thrust, leg clasped around one of the hound’s rocking hips to forcefully increase the pace. “HARDER,” he hissed, to which the other hellion responded accordingly, with a breathless sneer.

“Yes, Sir,” he replied smoothly, if not with a slightly muted groan, his length felt incredible, tightened and squeezed so much more abruptly when the demon was fitting. “You’re so …much..tighter…Al…” he grunted as he continued to throw himself inside from each pull outward. His shaking grey hands gripped with an impeccably strong force against Al’s thighs, his skin there reddening with each passing second. It only added to the challenge as Nai’s grip made it harder for Alistar to meet each thrust, almost edging his impeding release.

“I can-… Huh’AESSH’ue! H’hH’EezSCH! can’t wait to feel you tomorrow…” continuing the thought regardless of the messy particles of spit and sick that spilled between then, hitting every square space of flesh within it’s wake.

“I’m…going to cum, Al,” the hound warned, his grip only getting tighter, his groin twisting as his hips began to thrust with less calculated movements. Alistar brought a hand behind Kanai, pushing him deeper, as if it were possible. Just brushing against his prostrate, Alistar took hold of his leaking, impatient cock and began to stroke to each thrusting motion.

“Just hold on…I’m almost..Al-m…Hh’Hah..” he now peered back up at the ceiling light, needing just a little help getting there…but ol’ reliable never fails as he felt that same, erotic, masterful feeling. Like when your foot falls asleep, that same static electricity that trickled through the nerves, but instead it’s in your face. The redhead stuttered, his body clenched as the onslaught of Kanai’s thrusting length struck his magic chord, and his hand tugged despairingly at his own overstimulated cock. “HH’HEHTZSCH!” A three in one opportunity, Alistar sneezed, and came hard in short strands all over his tired digits.

Kanai now, as well, grunting with force, hips slapping to full hilt before he spilled over inside the insistent demon. They both huffed, and puffed, Alistar sniffled, snorted and snuffed. “Snddddfff,”

“Well…” Kanai almost gasped, pulling his spent cock from the inside of his best friend’s now leaking hole. He leaned against the table, both palms gripping the edge as he caught himself up to sane levels of thought.

“Well….” The crimson haired demon replied with his own breathless expression.

“How was it?” Standing up straight, the hound now tucked his soaked, softening shaft back under the hem of his sweatpants, Al taking this opportunity to hop off the table and take hold of the water bottle he originally brought in.

“Phenomenal, Kanai, you gotta try that,” pausing between catching his breath to account his feelings on the experience.

“We shall see later this day, won’t we?” Responding in his usual dry, monotonous fashion, seemingly having regulated himself enough to speak more coherently.

“We shall…snnddfff..” regardless of the high he was currently riding, Alistar was still unrelieved of having this illness. Though he did feel a thousand times lighter the same way he did with Drae earlier. Ah yes, this was the life. Variety.

“I am not looking forward to that part though…” Kanai referred to the dripping of Al’s nose and wild sniffling to get any real sense of air.

“You get used to it…” the red head shrugged his shoulders simply, he began to work at the lid of his water bottle again, unscrewing it off completely with a twist of his index and thumb.

“Sure…I’m going to go shower now,” Nai much more exhausted now than he had been originally, turned from the chair and began to walk towards the hallway of rooms.

“Hmm..enjoy, I’m gonna chug the rest of this water and, try to sleep…” he yawned but it only all too quickly followed with a loud painful hacking cough. He hit his chest with a closed fist to clear his throat enough that he could take a sip of his water and sooth the onslaught.

“Good luck resting, Donnie,” Kanai yawned waving behind, stretching his shoulders before he turned in the direction of the hall.

“See you tomorrow to complete our research,” Al responded back, running his hand through sweaty locks of red hair.

“See you tomorrow,” And then the hell hound disappeared, retiring to clean himself up in preparation for the day’s later activities.

The End

Author’s Notes: I’ll have you know before I was even halfway done with this piece, Geezie came up with an idea for a FOURTH installment to this series….so yeah. It’s coming if you couldn’t tell behind Al and Nai’s conversation 🫣🫨 First accidental Snz Series when I had my first snz series planned already….but I guess I’ll just have to do both. 🤷🏼‍♀️

#original character #oc #writer #fic writer #snz kink #snzblr #smut #my character #snzfet #snzario #snz series #fic series #snzfucker #snz scenario #snzzzzz #snzfic #snz thoughts #snz fucker #snz prompt #snz blog #snz fet #snz fic #snz #snz things #Alistar Satanos #Kanai #AlxNai

[twilghtkoo]

sex with jeonghan

i have my own theory that jeonghan is a kinky mf. he’s experimental, he rarely watches porn since he has u, but when he does and he finds something he wants to try with u, he’s not shy to ask. if you’re uncomfortable to try something new, he won’t push u to do anything bc he loves u and cares for u. but if you’re willing to try something new with him, it makes him happy bc that means u trust him.

jeonghan doesn’t mind using toys, but he doesn’t like the idea of u using it by yourself when he isn’t home. it did boost his ego though when u told him that u have to think about him when using the toy. i think a vibrator would be his favorite to use with u. him holding the toy against your bud as u shake uncontrollably in his grasp as u moan and scream for him to stop. he especially loves to edge u and watch u squirt when he finally decides that you’ve had enough. watching your juices soak his lower body and bed sheets.

jeonghan likes when your verbal, he likes to hear the sounds coming out of your mouth and loves to hear how he’s making u feel. even though you sometimes most of the time can’t form a coherent sentence bc he’s fucking u stupid, but his insides go crazy when u scream his name. u guys have a safe word and he literally reminds u about it every time he’s gonna go rough, he doesn’t want to hurt u or u to be uncomfy!!! sex is all about mutual respect.

i feel like his favorite position would be missionary or cowgirl because *drumroll* jeonghan is a boobs guy and u can’t convince me otherwise!!!! seeing ur tits bounce up and down while he’s slamming into u or ur pleasuring yourself on his dick, it’s like he’s got heart eyes literally,,,, he’s a very touchy person when it comes to u and obviously during sex but he’s obsessed with ur tits. if he could hold them in the palm of his hands forever he would. if he could have them in his mouth forever he WOULD. i feel like jeonghan would like to cum inside, ofc if you let him. but when u don’t or when he doesn’t want to he likes to cum on ur chest, painting your tits with his juices.

aftercare with jeonghan,,, sigh,,, after the hardcore sex y’all just had and after literally degrading u he turns into the softest boy for u. after u both calm down, jeonghan gets a warm washcloth and wipe ur legs and chest. he’s very gentle with ur pussy because he knows it’s sensitive rn, he recovers fast so he likes to carry u to the bathroom so u can pee, bc peeing is important after sex ppl!!! and then showering together T___T

#yeow6n #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan #seventeen smut #seventeen headcanons #jeonghan headcanons #jeonghan fluff #seventeen fluff #jeonghan drabbles #i’m on my jeonghan brain rot agenda again #svt headcanons #svt fluff #seventeen jeonghan #svt smut