#*it doesn’t look quite as wonky

[jooniez]

🌻🌷🌥✨💗🍃

[luveline]

Hi Jade!!! I love, love, love your writing. I was wondering if you could write something for Tsam Peter x reader where reader has a concussion and Peter is just generally super sweet about taking care of them? I have a concussion right now and I feel like he would be so sweet about it. If not feel free to ignore this, love you!!! <3

i love u!! fem!reader, 1k

You’re shivering again. Peter looks up from his book suspiciously, squinting at the curve of your where you’re laying on his couch. He should let you rest —you’re allowed to sleep with a concussion, despite what some might think— but he doesn’t like the shivering. It’s weird. 

“I'm coming, baby,” he says, standing up from the armchair to situate himself by your hips. 

Peter pulls the blankets more firmly to your chin. “Are you cold, bub?” he asks. It might appear that he’s talking to you while you’re still sleeping, but the smile you give when he talks proves otherwise. 

“No,” you force out in a mumble. 

“Are you sure?” 

It takes you some time to think about it. Your body’s been thrown for a loop since you hurt yourself, but you’re healing nicely, and your mental stamina is yards better than it had been. Peter asked you yesterday if you wanted a kiss and you couldn’t answer him for a full minute, and when you did it was an uncoordinated lift of your chin. You’re still in there, still his girl, just mildly incapacitated for the time being. 

“I might be,” you decide. 

Peter grabs a throw from under the coffee table and shakes it out over your arms and shoulders. “There. Need a drink?” 

“Do you?” you ask. 

“What?” 

“You’re asking me lots of questions,” you say, slowly, quietly, but not without character. “I thought I’d ask one back.” 

“I don’t need anything.” He tilts his head to align your faces, leaning in, not quite close enough to kiss you. 

“You look very serious right now, Spider-Man.” 

He glares for show. “So serious.” 

“Sorry I can’t really make you a drink.” 

Peter wipes the glare. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I don’t care that you can’t be my serf right now. When you’re better I’m gonna work you twice as hard, that’s all.” 

You raise a tired hand to his jaw. You’re extra careful to offset your wonky hand, stroking a clumsy but tender line from his ear to his chin. “Can you help me up?” 

Peter doesn’t question you. You’ve been recovering for a few days (he hasn’t realised before your injury that some people can take months to get better after a head injury, even without blood clots or fractures) and he’s not felt the urge to baby you beyond waiting on your every whim and want. If you’d like to sit up, that’s okay. The only thing he’d insist on is getting enough sleep at night, and thats something you’ll do happily. 

“Can I give you a hug?” he asks, his eyebrows pinching up at their starts. “I hate seeing you shiver, it makes me sad.” 

“Makes you sad?”

He squeezes your elbow where the blankets have fallen down. “Is that surprising?” 

You want to trade jokes with him but you can’t summon a retort, and your smile quickly fades. It can’t be nice, feeling a shade of yourself. Peter’s heart aches for you twice. 

“C’mere, pretty girl,” he says, slipping his arms under yours, encouraging you to wrap your own behind his head or let them rest behind his shoulders. He loves hugging you like this, almost lifting you, spider strength begging to be used as you sigh and settle into place against him. You feel a little like a shell of yourself, not quite quick with touches, fingertips twitching against his shoulder blade as he nuzzles his face against yours unabashed. “There you are. Where’d you go, huh? I was about to send out the search party.” 

“I’m right here.” 

“Yeah you are. Lucky me, right? Luckiest guy in the world.” 

You sigh happily beside his ear, your face pitching slowly downward until it’s pressing against the curve of his neck, your arms slipping down his front as you run out of energy. He doesn’t mind, bundling you up with no intention of letting you go. 

“How do you feel?” he asks. 

“Still fuzzy, like… it’s like we’re talking to each other through a screen door.” 

“Do you need something? Or want something? I’ll get you anything.” 

“I’m fine.” 

He lets out a sorry sigh. He wishes you’d want something, god knows he’d love to put a smile on your face. If you were feeling better you might ask him to go and get you something for dinner from across the city, or beg him to find you a bunch of flowers (which he’s always willing to buy). But sick, you ask for nothing. You just lay on the couch and wait to get better. Peter doesn’t think it’s super fair. 

“I’m sorry you’re not better yet,” he murmurs, his lips drifting down to your temple, which he kisses weakly, the barest brush of his lips. “Wish I could take it from you.” 

“I’ll be okay soon.” 

“I know you will, but I still wish I could take it. It’s shitty.” 

You think about this for a while. “It’s not shitty,” you work out finally, hand curling against his waist in a tired display of affection. “I have the… best boyfriend ever looking after me.” 

“I’ll be here until you’re better, you know that.” 

“I know.” 

Peter ushers you back and lifts your blankets, slotting himself next to you with a careful arm held behind your back. You show some surprising excitement at the offering of a cuddle and work under his arm, shuffling down the couch to leave you both laying on the same cushion, blankets uneven but warm over your chests. “You should probably go back to sleep,” he says. 

“Nap with me?” you ask, endearingly hopeful. 

He turns his face, intending on drawing lines into your cheek with the tip of his nose until you either fall asleep or can’t take it anymore. “Sure, baby. I bet you’re exhausted, huh? Let’s sleep.” 

He falls asleep before you, breathing snores into your cheek. You have enough wits about you to laugh, and then you fall asleep, too. 

[espiepuffs]

Valentine’s Day Hcs!

Headcannons of how you celebrate and spend Valentine’s Day with your partner!

Characters: N, Shauna, Hop, Kieran, Carmine!

Note: Happy Valentines to those who celebrate it! I made some head cannons with my favourite characters, but I won’t be taking requests for Shauna or N yet!

N - Ferris wheel ride

For Valentines, be prepared to be out and about for most of the day!

He’s been practically everywhere in Unova. He’s not going to go to places with plenty of people there, oh no.

He’s going to take you places you’ve never seen before, places so remote that you can be sure that they’re only known to the two of you.

This man is so thoughtful too, he’s only going to take you to places that he knows for sure that you’ll like.

I can imagine him taking you to a really pretty flower field to take a look at all the Lilligant and Whimsicott frolicking through!

He would also try and make you a flower crown but he hasn’t made one in years.

(He fails horribly, silly goof.)

By sunset, the two of you get to Nimbasa city, and although it’s crowded, he leads you to the Rondez-View ferris wheel together.

On the ferris wheel, he’d sit really close to you as well, he’s a sucker for physical contact and touch.

After that he’d hold your hand and talk about how he loves spending time with you, and how he loved today.

He’s good with words too, he’ll say it in the most poetic way possible, but it doesn’t sound cheesy, though you wouldn’t care if it was.

And at the very top of the ferris wheel, with the sunset on full view, he gives you a quick, sweet kiss on the lips! How romantic!

It’s a perfect end to a perfect Valentine’s Day!

Shauna - Fireworks

Shauna’s so excited for Valentines, she’s about to bust your door down the moment she gets to your house,, don’t worry, she’s just really excited to go on a date with you today!

The two of you go all over Lumiose city together! You both decide the places that you want to go together, you don’t really have anything planned.

Valentines with her seems like a bit more of an outing than a date, but that doesn’t make it less enjoyable or romantic in any way.

Shauna is a very outgoing and bubbly girl, and the sort of energy she carries around her is able to make any experience with her 10 times better!

You start by going to a cafe together and eating Poképuffs together. Even better, they’ve been doing Valentine’s themed foods there and she gushes over how adorable they are!

After that, you pretty much walk through the entire city together. There’s so much to do!

A lot of shopping is done. It’s a case of her finding something cute on a shop window and her dragging you in. It’s super fun to see the different things in store, Lumiose has so much to offer!

You take walks down the avenues and boulevards, as well as the plazas!

Although it doesn’t sound like a lot, these activities took up most of the day. Lumiose is a ginormous place…

But there’s one more place that she’s adamant to take you to!

It took a little while, but she takes you to a place called the Parfum Palace! It’s a public museum, and she’s got a surprise for you there!

She takes you to a balcony, where you and her stand together.

She can barely hold in her excitement, and she’s elated when fireworks start shooting off! She’s bouncing off the walls, and you can tell how happy she is when you feel how tight her hand is gripping yours!

The fireworks are gorgeous, no wonder she was so determined to bring you here. It was worth it, seeing all the beautiful Valentines themed patterns, and the colours to go with them!

Shauna does her best for valentines, and although it may be quite an exhilarating event, it’s a romantic event that the both of you won’t ever forget!

Hop- Gorgeous sightseeing

Happy Valentines! I hope you like travelling and sightseeing, because Hop is taking you to the best Galar has to offer!

Sure, the weather in Galar is wonky with it being rainy one day, stormy the other- and a lot of it is filled with ruins- so what could you find romantic about that?

Hop has been all through this wretched region, he knows the best places to take you for a day as special as today. As long as you’re up to it (you are) he’ll be taking you to the prettiest places there!

Although he’s put an incredible amount of thought in for the places to go, he can’t help but feel normal as the two of you converse on the train

He starts with Glimwood tangle. Although it’s mysterious, it’s quite a serene place, with not much to be heard apart from the occasional rustling that comes from Impidimp scouring through.

He takes this chance to hold your hand as you stroll through and head to Ballonlea (smart move, hop)!The town itself may not be too romantic, but it’s a pretty sight, right?

He also takes you to Wyndon. It’s a wonderful sight, even though it’s crowded.

You go for a stroll up the gardens, and the two of you look back on your moments together, even way back from when you were just friends.

(If you paid close attention to his voice, you could hear it trembling slightly…)

He’s got one more place to show you after you finish a lap around Wyndon, and he hopes he can make it work!

It takes a while to get there, having to go from Wyndon all the way to Postwick was time consuming, but you have each other!

On the train ride there, you end up leaning onto Hop’s shoulder, and he gets so flustered!

The two of you have been dating for a while, but he still never fails to grow warm under your touch. He ends up leaning onto you too.

The two of you head inside the slumbering Weald, making sure to avoid the Weezing and Musharna floating about so that you could get to your destination quickly.

You’ve arrived, and at this point Hop puts his hands over your eyes. When he opens them, you’re met with the gorgeous sight of an altar, well hidden by the trees, and the sun gleaming down at the waters.

Hop also had matching bracelets to give to you- the two being your favourite colours with some other white beads, and a message spelling ‘I love you’ !

The rest of you spend your time peacefully talking together at the Slumbering Weald. Celebrating Valentines with Hop is him making his appreciation to you known in (what he thinks are) the best ways possible!

Kieran- Appletun pie

This is Kieran’s first Valentine’s Day with you, so he wants to make it special and last.

He’s never really been the type to plan and do extravagant things, so he settles for something that he thinks would be fun for the both of you.

And that’s through baking!

Unfortunately, the Apple trees over at Apple hills are far from blossoming at this time of year, but it’s okay! He’s got a bunch of fresh ones the two of you can use!

(His Hydrapple picks out the sweetest apples for him. Even before the two of you started dating that thing has been nothing but a wingman!)

On the day, he’s so happy when he arrives at your house!

He’s got the biggest smild smile on his face too!

“Happy Valentines S/O ! I bought you somethin’ as well :DD!”

He wants this to go as well as possible, he brings some choclate too!

Anyways, the two of you use an Appletun apple pie recipe, it’s a pie that looks plenty similar to the aforementioned Pokémon!

He’s a noob at baking too, but that does make it fun, right? If you can bake? He’s happy that there’s some experience to tag along! If not? The two of you fooling around makes it plenty enjoyable!

Speaking of fooling around… FLOUR FIGHTS >:)))

You’d probably instigate it while you’re waiting for the pie to bake in the oven, but that does not mean that Kieran is backing down in any way!

Kieran’s a competitive guy, even though you may not know it. And in some cases, his friendly competitiveness goes beyond battling on the BB Academy courts!

He’s going to reach over to smear it on your face and leave handprints on your clothes. The two of you were throwing it all over the kitchen, and boy, was it fun.

Kieran’s Hydrapple was downright terrified though. While the two of you were having fun, this poor dude was imagining the possibilities of Carmine coming in…

(She did peek in the kitchen and see the two of you fighting and she was absolutely fuming. She was about to give the both of you a piece of her mind, but even she saw how much fun the two of you were having. She must’ve felt merciful, because she left you two alone despite being livid at the mess. She was just glad to see Kieran happy in love :))

The timer for the pie goes off, and you eventually clean the kitchen to the best of your abilities. He has a spare washcloth that he lets you use to wipe the flour off where you can. Just have to hope nobody else notices the flour!

After, the two of you split the Appletun pie so there’s some for his family and some for yours!

Kieran thinks he left a memorable impression for a first Valentine’s date, and he hopes for many more!

Carmine- Late nights

Carmine would probably have a sleepover with you. But it’d be an event where the two of you go all out!

Carmine is the sort of person to do so. Going on an outing around Kitakami just isn’t her thing.

When you show up at the door, she’s got everything for the night.

Movies? Face masks? Board games? Checked right off!

She’s even decorated the living room for the occasion, taking her red blankets and pillows all down so the two of you’re cozy.

She’s so excited to spend time with you! What do you want to do first? She suggests wearing face masks while watching the all the movies she’s got to watch!

Carmine also loves physical contact, she gets super cuddly at night. For tonight, you’ll be her stuffed animal while you watch beauty and the ultra beast.

The two of you had tossed on face masks while watching the Princess and the Froakie, and all of a sudden you hear a loud yell and it’s none other than Carmine’s brother, Kieran!

He knows what a face mask is but he always gets so startled when he sees his sister wearing one…

Carmine shoos him away as soon as possible so the two of you can continue watching the movie!

Carmine is a little pouty after that mishap, but she’ll be fine.

The entire night is just a sleepover for you to focus on each other, and Carmine loves that. She loves spending time with you, and you staying over at hers is what she loves the most. She loves Kitakami, and there are good places for romantic outings, but to her what could possibly be more romantic than staying at home with your partner?

And whatever you’re doing, you should play with her hair, brush it or style it in any way you want. Carmine adores it when you do that to her, she feels so close with you!

(You enjoy it too, you’re able to get a full view of your girlfriend’s face, gazing warmly at yours.)

When you’re all settled down for the night, you and her have late night talks. She’s so in love, she could talk ti you about the most mundane things ever and she’d still look at you with the most lovesick look on her face.

Also, more cuddles, yay! She’s a big spoon, so prepare to be wrapped around her!

It’s a pretty ideal Valentine’s Day (or night in this case). Compared to the others, you simply get to laze around with your girlfriend while still having fun! And you don’t need to run everywhere!

[druidrot]

so i was looking at the other parts of the ways to show emotion prompt list and part 3 has some great lists so i was hoping you could do “opening mouth slightly” pupils dilating” and “licking lips” with Gale from the how to show desire prompts 👀👀 no worries if not, congrats on the new blog!

thanks so much! and thanks for being my first requester! i’m happy to oblige. now i’m posting on mobile so i apologize if the formatting is wonky. with that being said, enjoy!

just a short little drabble, unsure of word count

pairing: gale dekarios x reader

rating: mature - more suggestive than anything else;)

he’s allowed to have fun at the tiefling party okay?? just let me have this. i get it’s canon divergent just shut up and let me be horny

It was here Gale felt his resolve crumble.

He prides himself on his self-control. In fact, he thinks he’s been a saint since he joined your adventuring party, since this painfully slow dance started between you both.

But he feels his patience waring thin. The tiefling party at the camp has no doubt been a success. He waited patiently as you did your rounds accepting their gifts and thanks so very graciously. He bid his time as you danced and sung and drank with everybody else, working your sweet charm on them.

He knows better, though. He thinks you are a different person under the cover of moonlight, here where you stare up at him with half-lidded, glassy eyes, lips pulled up in the sweetest little smile. You still hold your chalice of wine but your free hand has taken to his, twirling your fingers around his long, narrow digits. He feels his mouth drop open as you take a step closer, your pupils dilating until the beautiful color of your iris is all but hidden.

Around you, the little celebration rages on. In the distance, you can hear Karlach whooping over some drinking game the rowdier of the bunch had taken to playing. Just down the camp from you, Alfira sings a lovely ballad of lover’s lost, Lakrissa bobbing her head from a few paces down.

Gale should be excited about the festivities, elated with the things your party accomplished, ready to drink his troubles away for the night. Instead, he finds himself totally enamored with you., eyes locked on your every movement. He doesn’t know when you became so intoxicating to him, but in this moment, he finds he can’t complain.

“You look like the tressym got your tongue,” you whisper, sidling even closer. “My my, have you been brooding here because I’ve not paid you any attention? Or is saving poor helpless refugees not really your speed?”

You bump your nose against his as your tongue wets your lips. His eyes are immediately drawn to the action and he has to physically fight the urge to rush forward and kiss you. Instead, he grins roguishly at you.

“Quite the rotten little minx, you are,” he teases. taking a step back to cool his body. “Go enjoy yourself, darling. Besides, I’m sure there’s quite the line to get a dance with you tonight. You’ll have plenty of time to harass me later.”

“What if I want to harass you right now? What if I want to spend all night harassing you?”

Gale feels like he’s on fire. Before either of you can really process, he pulls you into a slow, heady kiss.

“You will be the death of me,” he pants between desperate kisses. “You will be the death of us all.”

He is quick to escalate, despite his warning and his lips grow frenetic as he chases your tongue with his, pushing into your mouth with a sense of urgency you didn’t think him capable of. He pulls your body close, impossibly so, and you can do nothing but moan as he continues to kiss you.

“The orb,” Gale tries, whimpering between consuming kisses.

“Don’t blow up on me,” is your only retort, happily losing yourself to the weight of his kiss.

[cherryjuiceblues]

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄… 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒

➯ A VANILLA LIME EXTRA. ✰ demon!harry sexual content. use of an aphrodisiac in a pre-established relationship. cum play. mentions of anal. minors dni. 𝑤𝑐 4k ッ vanilla lime masterlist

Harry normally considers himself to be quite an intelligent individual. He’s old, he’s wise, and not a human—which makes him infinitely smarter for reasons invalid.

But maybe he occasionally has lapses of judgement.

And maybe one of these occasional lapses of judgement include finding a tome of ancient magic—disguised as an ordinary novel from the 1800s sitting on the shelf of a recently deceased witch—and having his first thought be to test it out. Because he was old, and wise, and not a human so… what could go wrong?

He sits at his desk, cluttered with years of collected trinkets, and grins to himself—mischievous and meddlesome—when he comes across a spell that reads:

An Aphrodisiac for the Ages — Fast Enacting Sex Enhancer

And he’s cocky about it, because well, Harry’s good at wielding magic; he’s never had any problems. So it doesn’t register as it should that he’s attempting ancient magic and that results won’t occur with just a wave of his hand. It won’t be as simple as looking at that wonky photo frame and fixing it with a gentle curve of his finger in the air, or—as Harry snorts to himself imagining it—picturing his dick hardening and then feeling it happen soon after.

He’s impatient though, and a man. His mind is running with all sorts of images of himself and Y/N performing debauched acts and the possibility of their emotions surpassing the already sure euphoria they both experience together. Which is why Harry is somewhat sceptical. Surely it can’t get any better? Surely he was already as satisfied as he could ever be.

So maybe he skips a few steps—in haste or in ignorance, Harry would never conclude—or maybe he pronounces a few syllables incorrectly or twirls his fingers the opposite directions in which the instructions desire.

But whatever he does, he does it wrong.

At first, when Harry feels his cock plumping up without any of his own assistance, he feels a little smug. That the spell has worked and that he’ll be able to stroll into his bedroom, all cocky, and pin Y/N down ready to blow her mind. And being completely hard is always a bit uncomfortable, even more so when the natural build-up is taken away, but when Harry overtakes the sensation he’s used to and the skin of his cock tightens just that bit further, his heart jumps in his chest.

It immediately hurts. Like I need this to stop now hurts. But there’s pleasure somewhere there, and it is undeniably more intense than he’s ever known before. But he can’t relish in it. Because his dick is throbbing, and his skin is heating up, and his rationality is fleeing faster than the speed of light because Harry is panicking.

He presses a palm to the outside of his sweatpants, hissing and pulling away when it doesn’t immediately relieve the pressure. But then he squeezes—because he has to do something—and precome blurts from the head, smearing all over the inside of his sweats because, as Harry finds comfort in the most, he hadn’t worn underwear. 

It builds up so fast, Harry doesn’t even realise. And it’s intense, sure, but it doesn’t feel like any orgasm he’s had before—it’s so much but it’s also so weak because he’s hardly touched himself and his brain is very much addled—but it’s barrelling towards him and he only has to squeeze himself once, twice more, and then he’s coming in his sweatpants like he’s just discovered masturbation for the first time.

Whimpers tumble out of his mouth, surprised but undeniably desperate, as his cock stays painfully hard inside his sweats. His come soaks into the material humiliatingly but Harry can only watch with ravenous want as his insides coil.

“I hope you were thinking about me,” Y/N suddenly says from the doorway of Harry’s office, peering in and spotting his flushed face and large palm squeezing over his wet bulge.

Harry doesn’t jump. He never does. But he’s not sure he had heard her movements like he normally can. His ears aren’t exactly tuned in to the world around him. 

“Bambi,” he breathes, rushing to tear his shirt over his head, “I’m so hot,” and then his hand returns to his dick, hips lifting into the touch. More sounds fall out of his mouth—mewls and whines and… not Harry. It has Y/N’s stomach fluttering.

He is usually so… so composed. So stoic. Features displaying apathy despite his heart pounding inside his chest. Which is why Y/N cycles through so many emotions in such a short period of time. Surprise, and then worry, and then excitement… and then power. Power to treat Harry the way he always treats her. To give him a taste of his own denying medicine.

Flashbacks cloud her mind of their time spent at the cottage. When he’d threatened to let her only watch as he stroked languid touches over where Y/N should’ve been. It had been an empty threat, of course—Harry had caved quicker than even she could’ve hoped for—but it was still cruel of him. And Y/N wanted to be cruel too.

She wanted to. But then the power she feels coalesces with such an intense need to take care of him. Murky and glaring at the same time. To soothe the anguished lines of his face, the sweat beading at his forehead, and the hardness still confined by fabric that has Harry practically writhing in his seat.

Harry doesn’t writhe. And it feels wrong. It feels unsafe, and unpredictable. Harry is always in control of every situation; Y/N can’t possibly stand there and not make him feel better. Their souls are connected after all, and her heart is racing with his pain.

“Come here,” Harry grunts, desk chair rolling back to encourage Y/N. She stops in front of him, eyes darting around his dishevelled state. “Touch me.”

Normally she’d never have to be told twice. But he looks almost… sick. “Are you sure you want me to—”

“Yes! I want you to, I need you to. I need you, Bambi,” Harry pants, and then he swallows. “Please. It— It hurts, baby.”

And she was in the palm of his hand. Even now. How could she not be? When miles of his flushing skin are coaxing her in, and the rapid rising of his chest is bordering on hyperventilation. Y/N couldn’t possibly play with him. Her eyes start to sting just staring at him. Another time she’d fantasise about playing his role but… not now.

“Y/N.” His eyes are black, voice deep. A contrast from his whining only a moment ago. “Please.”

It’s messy, the sight that greets Y/N as she kneels—surprising despite the obviously sodden grey. Poor Harry looks as though he’s holding his breath as she peels his sweatpants down. And she does have to peel, because they’re excessively wet. Wetter than is humanly possible. And she watches as his thick mushroom tip dribbles a near constant stream of precome, that she suspects could be an ongoing orgasm. One not strong enough to provide any pleasure—only fuel the harsh throbbing and the aggressive red shade of his cock. He smears all over his tummy and Y/N bites her bottom lip at the sight. The skin is so taut, rubbing against his abs as he quivers with shaky pants.

She inhales—gasps, really—battling the warmth that's spreading throughout her body with feelings of conflicted concern. “Are you— are you coming?”

Harry’s breath tremors as he shakes his head, “No. But I’m going t—” the mere feel of his hard abdomen is enough to push him further over the edge.

Y/N reaches forward, latching around him in a desperate attempt to quell something. He makes a noise she’s never heard before. It’s high and strangled. Followed by whimper clawing out of his mouth. She can’t help the noise of her own that escapes around him, eyes darting up to see Harry’s pinched brows and clenched eyes, slick lips hanging open.

And he’s filling her mouth. Really filling her mouth. Ropes of come paint her tongue, and Harry shoots his hand out to grab hers in a vulnerable plea for contact—grounding—as his hips push up and his stomach tenses. His voice trails off, whines turning to desperate rumblings of inadvertent noise.

Y/N feels as though she’s entered an alternate universe—one of begging, and whining, and Harry’s submission. She swallows everything, which is a feat in itself considering that Harry has never had so much to release in his life. But when she keeps suckling (as she usually does until Harry pulls her off by her hair with a dopey smile and a taunting remark) he doesn’t flinch away in sensitivity—nor does he threaten something punishing if she doesn’t stop. 

No, Harry does something even more unexpected. He starts crying. Tears, fat and fast, start falling from his eyes and rolling down his cheeks in unprecedented streams. His chest heaves and his breaths shake but, contrastingly, his face relaxes. Almost cathartically. His eyelids remain shut and his brows flatten out but Y/N is still pulling off him with panic slicing through her chest.

“Harry, are you okay? I’m so—sorry, did I hurt you?” She cups his cheeks, thumbs fruitless in wiping his face. He’s still hard, and Y/N feels it undoubtedly when Harry tugs her into his lap, pressing into her stomach and soaking through her shirt. She doesn’t care.

Harry shakes his head, arms squeezing Y/N impossibly tight. “Sorry,” he whispers, throat dry. “I need to fuck you, Bambi. Need to or I think my dick will drop off.” 

Y/N lets out a laugh, but Harry is deadly serious when he looks at her. He’s shiny with sweat and tears, but his eyes have cleared their inky swirls and green shines through. Still fairly tortured green but it sees her and it pleads. 

“What the fuck did you do, Harry?” She strokes over his eyebrow.

“I don’t know… A spell— I don’t— Just need to—” he leans back in the squeaky chair, enough to hold her skirt up, grab at the crotch of her tights and rip. Y/N can’t even find it within herself to be angry. Not as his fingers curl inside of her underwear and tug desperately to reveal her pussy. Not as his knuckles are coated in her drenching arousal. Harry doesn’t even comment on it—he’s that far gone. “Jus’ need t’fuck you, need to fuck you.” So blind with throbbing pain that all he knows is how to guide his prick into Y/N’s dripping cunt—her body that reacts to his, provides for him—whatever he needs. 

They both stutter as Harry more or less drives himself inside of her. It’s not slow, or gentle. He’s ravenous. “F-fuck—still fucking hurts, Bambi.” His head drops forward, meeting Y/N’s chest. She can feel her clit pulsing and she wants nothing more than for Harry to play with her and fuck her dumb. But it’s not what he needs. And she’d sacrifice more than just her pleasure to take care of him.

So she lifts herself up… and sinks back down. Slowly at first, and then faster—ignoring her screaming legs in favour of milking Harry’s still leaking cock. He might still be coming, neither of them know. All Harry knows is that his every nerve is being stimulated and he’s making a considerable mess.

He looks at Y/N with half-lidded eyes, orgasm most definitely still lingering, and lifts a heavy hand to pull her shirt over her head. If he could speak he’d be praising the ever loving fuck out of her. So good for me. My little human taking care of me, yeah? Making me come over and over. What would I do without you, baby? M’fist will never be good enough again. But all Harry can do is lean forward, desperately tug Y/N’s bra up, and spit over her breasts. It’s drool really, Harry’s sure he’s not in control of any part of his body enough to make the decision to spit on her. He’s not in his own mind.

But he certainly watches as it drips down her skin in a sinful trail and mixes with everything between their legs. It makes him come, he thinks. Or at least it makes his dick leak even more than it already is. And he swears he’s never loved Y/N as much as he does right now; he knows her thighs are burning and that she’s trying to ignore her own needs in favour of tending to his.

“Don’t be quiet, baby,” Harry exhales. He can barely keep his eyes open, and if he can’t see her then at least let him hear her.

“Just want to…make you…come,” she breathes, but her whimpers increase.

“You are, fuck—” 

The inside of Y/N’s thighs are sticky and Harry’s come is slicking all over their skin; they’re peeling away from each other with each bounce Y/N gives. And the sounds are near grotesque. It’s without a doubt that the pair will be repulsed as soon as they’re finished… but right now? They’ve never experienced anything hotter.

“I need more, baby. Need more.” Harry’s voice is tight again, as though the slight respite he received after his orgasm has dissolved entirely. And now he’s back to where he was; profusely frantic.

“I’m trying,” Y/N whimpers, forehead falling to the top of Harry’s head. She couldn’t possibly maintain the speed in which she started. And what she’s doing now can only be more torturous for Harry. “I’m s-sorry.”

He lets out a string of sounds—an attempt to say something reassuring. “Shit—”

And then he’s standing, on wobbly legs, and stumbling into the nearest wall. Y/N meets it with a harsh thud and Harry mumbles some sort of apology. But neither of them really hear it. Because he starts to push his hips into her at a truly demonic pace. One that will really take it out of his poor, little human—but she’d never ask him to stop.

Harry’s fingers grip her waist, each thrust pushing her further up the wall, and his digits are surely bruising her delicate skin. But Y/N will find wonder in digging her fingers in those same spots to reignite the memory in a day’s time. 

He pounds into her, skin slapping loud enough to make Y/N grateful for Harry’s closed windows. And for a moment, it feels worth it—fucking up dangerous, ancient magic—because Harry thinks the outcome could have been much worse. But when he comes again—and fears he may drop Y/N entirely from the force at which his bones rattle—and his dick still doesn’t soften, Harry decides that this is the worst thing he’s ever done in his life.

Y/N is all shaky moans above him, hands gripping to his shoulders for dear life as the pulsating in her cunt grows more and more unbearable. Her clit is screaming to be touched, but she won’t do it. If not for being suspended in the air, then for the sake of making Harry feel better.

But Harry still notices. His eyes are leaking again but he’s still attentive enough to know. Y/N pants, “Did that one feel good?”

“Yeah,” Harry grunts, “Still fucking hard. I don’t know what to do, Bambi.”

It’s the first time she’s ever heard him utter those words. 

Y/N feels their arousal trickle down the inside of her legs. There’s so much, and she’s so swollen, and Harry is so hard. “Let me fuck you. I can do better, Harry.”

He shakes his head, “You’re so good, sweetheart,” pulling her further into his chest, her back sliding down the wall some. “This is my fault. Let me… let me—” Harry slides out of her, and a gush of come follows him. But he’s quick to fall to his knees and collect it all in the hollow of his tongue. He smears it around Y/N’s clit, big hands running up her thighs. His thumbs trail to the inside, smearing their wetness around, before he moves to palm over her backside. Her tights are sodden, and quickly becoming uncomfortable despite the pleasure coursing through Y/N’s body.

Harry tears them further in his haste to feel her skin and Y/N is left with the elastic hem around her waist and baggy nylon falling down her ankles—her panties still pulled to the side. But she feels so good and she shouldn’t be letting him do this. Her hands sink into his hair, tugging at the roots. Harry’s mouth opens in a groan around her clit, tongue dancing at her entrance. He doesn’t even entertain pulling away, hand migrating down to wrap around his soaking cock to fuck his fist in desperate pumps. Beads of come dribble over his thick knuckles.

“Does it feel good, Harry?” Y/N whines. “So warm, and wet. You look so pretty.” Harry nods his woozy head. “Sometimes I get jealous that you get to touch it all the time,” she lets her head hit the wall with a thump when Harry sucks with intent. He’s swallowing multitudes, arousal slicking down his throat and glistening on his face. Y/N wishes she were more coherent; to remember the way he looks right now. So dismantled, so flustered, and unable to hide any of what he’s feeling. Y/N’s not much of a dominant figure but… to see Harry this way is so beautiful.

Their eyes meet, and Y/N can’t help but be pushed to the brink of her orgasm by his red-rims and clumpy lashes—the tip of his perfect nose riding her through as his tongue draws waves inside of her. Harry’s coming all over his hand too, eyelids fluttering shut and face pushing further into Y/N’s cunt as he uses all his strength not to bite down on her in intense pleasure.

His cock finally softens a little. Not enough to deem comfortable but it sends relief through Harry’s heart—that he’s not doomed to an eternity with the most painful erection known to man.

Y/N falls into his lap, skirt concealing their intimacy, and nestles her pussy around his shaft. “How do you feel?”

“Better. Still need another. Can go slower though, I think.”

Y/N says nothing, only pushes her hands against Harry’s chest to get him to lie back against the floor. She unclasps her bra and holds up her skirt to see as she sinks back down and exhales slowly as he fills her up once more. She wishes she could say something sexy. Instead, she leans over him, hips grinding in tantalising circles and wraps a hand around his throat. It’s much less impressive than when Harry does it to her. His fingers actually curl round the entirety of her neck as opposed to the way Y/N’s sort of pathetically cling on.

“You using my own tactics against me, Bambi?” Harry smiles, all fucked out and blissful. His torso glistens with sweat.

“Shh,” Y/N tries, but she’s a little embarrassed. She doesn’t know what she’s doing—every word Harry has ever uttered to her races through her head. “Just—take it,” her skin flares with heat. It doesn’t sound right. And Harry is smiling at her. He’s supposed to be indisposed.

“Y-yeah?” He stretches his neck towards the ceiling, inviting Y/N to squeeze. “You fucking me, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” Y/N lifts up and drops down once, feeling Harry twitch inside of her and prod her deepest spots. “I… I thought you were a big, scary demon,” she starts, clit rubbing against his pelvis deliciously, “but you’re just a s-silly little boy who can’t even cast spells properly.”

Harry’s chest quakes and his hips lift in surprise. Fuck. “My sweet girl knows how to talk, huh? Keep going.”

Her body is alight with heat and she’s not sure she can keep going. But she says, “You’ve made such a m-mess, Harry. All over me,” her body shines with sweat, and spit, and come. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Y/N’s other hand presses into his chest, slipping down to rest over the butterfly.

“No,” Harry breathes, palms encircling Y/N’s biceps suddenly and tugging them around her back. She falls forward, cheek smushing into his collarbone.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“You’re so hot, baby, but I need to go faster than that.” And then he’s lifting his hips up, again, and again, and again—forcing squeals out of Y/N and grunts out of his own mouth. His composure is back some, but it’s hardly necessary. Not as Y/N clenches around him, squeezing drop after drop out of his cock and hurtelling him closer to his orgasm. “Should fuck your pretty little bum, too. Make sure you really milk me proper,” he slurs against her forehead as she starts coming around him. Her clit feels tortured against his abdomen but it’s so good. And Harry’s only pounding into her a few more times before he’s painting her insides again. “Fuck, fuck, yes.”

Y/N’s mouldable as Harry pulls her off his still leaking cock and tugs her thighs around his head. She’s a constant stream of whines as he laps her up, dick finally softening against his thigh. He knows they need to clean up now—the arousal is gone, they’re both spent, and Harry’s hurting for a whole new reason. But he can’t help the languid licks of his tongue on her pussy, or the hums that rumble in his throat at the feel of his come dripping out of her and into his mouth. It’s aftercare for him.

But she’s slumping atop of him, and Harry has to pull away. He sits her in his lap and brushes kisses to her eyelids, whispering gentle praise about how good she was for him—how perfect and wonderful and just for him.

Y/N appears near asleep in his arms, but she opens her eyes to shoot an exhausted attempt at a menacing glare. Harry tries and fails to school his smile.

“If you ever touch that spell again I’m leaving you to take care of it yourself.” No matter that she feels weightless, no amount of pleasure is worth seeing Harry in that state again—crying and whimpering. Not unless it is completely and utterly caused by Y/N and he is in every way comfortable.

Harry slaps her bum. “Don’t say that. You’ll always take care of me, won’t you?”

Y/N grumbles into his shoulder as he stands up and heads for the bathroom. They’ve never needed to wash more, and she is sure that she’ll still be dripping come the next day. But with Harry it’s serenity, and leaden limbs, and gentle caresses… and they both fall asleep in the bath—Harry’s soft “I’ll always take care of you too,” getting lost in the swirling tendrils of steam as they rise and dance above their heads.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 99

Part 1 Part 98

Steve spends a short three days in the hospital before they start the discharge. It’s surprising, somehow, that spending time slowly dying in the Upside-Down is more traumatic on the body than literal possession. Eddie can’t wrap his head around it. 

He’s sitting on Steve’s bed, hopefully for the last time, hip to hip as he kicks his feet out over and over again at the same tempo of his beating heart. Steve’s got their fingers interlaced on Eddie’s thigh, flexing his own fingers to that same rhythm Eddie’d started up. 

“You think it’ll be much longer?” Steve asks, slumping his head to the side and atop Eddie’s shoulder.

His hair tickles Eddie’s cheek. Eddie wants to reach up and smooth it back, but Steve’s still holding his hand, and the other one doesn’t quite reach. 

“Nah, the old man’s good at getting what he wants.”

“That’s because he’s got the same big, sad eyes as you.”

Eddie squawks in fake affront even as warmth pools in his cheeks. Few people have mentioned a resemblance, and it makes him go soft and gooey every time.  “I don’t have big, sad eyes!” He shakes Steve’s hand around gently in his - he’s always, always gentle. “I’m too tough.”

Steve snorts, small and tired. Even with relatively minor injuries, neither of them have been sleeping well in the small hospital cot. It’s starting to show in the circles beneath Steve’s eyes. Eddie wants to bundle him up in the backseat of Wayne’s truck and tuck him into their bed at home.

They won’t even have to come back. All they’ve got is some sort of cream for Steve’s burns, and Eddie’s bruised ribs and broken nose  are supposed to heal all on their own. His concussion’s already behind him, even if things still go a little wonky if he moves his neck too quickly. 

They can just convalesce. Maybe Wayne will bring them soup. Or burgers from the diner and a strawberry milkshake to split. Anything will be better than the mind-numbing sterility of the hospital, as long as they’re together. 

If only Wayne would hurry the hell up. 

It’s not Wayne who walks in. It’s not any of their friends, or family, or an unnamed doctor in blue scrubs. It’s not anyone he recognizes at all.

It’s a perfectly matched pair - like salt and pepper shakers at a fancy diner. Eddie feels his shoulders curl, a silent question mark to their upright forms. 

The woman looks like a mannequin, in her gray pencil knit skirt and matching cardigan, belted tight enough to make her look like a wine glass. Her hair is a windswept brown and her chin’s raised just so. 

The man’s suit is a pewter gray, matching her skirt perfectly. He has his hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks, like he’s posing for a catalog as he looms imposingly on the threshold. 

She knocks on the frame of the door, calling a quiet, “knock knock,” as the man strides in. 

Eddie feels Steve’s hair brush against his cheek as he sits up and twists, to look at the new arrivals. Eddie doesn’t look toward him, can’t tear his eyes away from the pair, as the woman comes to stand beside the man, photogenic smile plastered to her face, even as the man glares down at them.

“Steven,” he says, eyebrows furrowed in an expression Eddie knows intimately. He’s seen it on Steve’s own face enough times. It’s less charming on the older, meaner model. 

Steve drops his hand covertly and shuffles slightly to the left and away, leaving Eddie’s hand to flop to the mattress, bereft. 

“Dad,” Steve replies.

Eddie turns, can’t not when Steve’s voice comes out so even, so lifeless, so dead. It’s just like when the mind flayer was running the show. Like Steve’s not there at all.

He is though. And that feels worse, because as Eddie stares at Steve’s perfect profile, he can almost see the years of distance and berating stacking themselves into the clench of his jaw and that familiar furrow of eyebrows. 

“What do you have to say for yourself?” His Dad doesn’t shout, but the hiss somehow still feels like it’s echoing off the bare walls of the hospital room.

Steve flinches back. Eddie sits on his hand as it twitches without his permission to grab onto Steve’s own. 

“For what, sir?” Mrs. Harrington’s perfect face scrunches up into a wince as she looks sidelong at her husband’s stony face. He opens his mouth, eyebrows angrier than ever, and Steve blurts, “I’m sorry.”

It doesn’t help. 

“Sorry,” he says evenly, like his fist wasn’t clenched in preparation for a strike. “Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

Steve sits, wordless, as he stares up at him, unblinking. 

Mrs. Harrington sighs. “Oh, Steve.” It sounds sympathetic, but Steve’s back curls in, arms wrapping around his ribs as he looks down at his own hanging feet. 

Eddie sits on his other hand.

Steve remains silent while storm clouds bloom above Mr. Harrington’s head.

Mrs. Harrington sighs, crossing arms and tapping perfectly manicured fingers against her own forearms, that same familiar beat that Steve gravitates toward without any of the soul.

“Sweetie,” she starts, no warmth in her voice or eyes. “I understand that you might have been feeling a little sick, but that’s no excuse for the state you left the house in.”

Eddie looks at Steve out of the corner of his eyes, and sees Steve looking right back, eyebrow quirked up in a silent question Eddie doesn’t know how to answer with witnesses.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, looking back down to the linoleum between his feet. 

“You’re sorry?” Mr. Harrington demands, voice raising with each syllable he utters. “You flooded the house, Steven!”

Steve flinches at the sound of his name. Eddie reaches out for the connection between them and plucks it, thrumming it like a guitar. Steve smiles, just a little, down at his socked feet. 

It’s a mistake. Mr. Harrington’s nostrils flare. Eddie sees the resemblance in the way his nose leans just slightly to the left, almost charmingly crooked. But there’s none of that familiar light behind Mr. Harrington’s eyes. He’s an empty pit, a bottomless well.

“We’ve had to replace all of the carpeting on the second floor,” Mrs. Harrington cuts in, looking down at her nails, uncaring as Mr. Harrington’s incensed further by her words.

“We wouldn’t have even known if the Allen’s hadn’t called us!” He’s shouting now, gesturing wildly toward the open door like whoever the Allen’s are, they’re waiting right outside, watching the show.

Mrs. Harrington sighs. “Oh, Richard. Don’t make a scene.”

As if spurred on by his wife’s chastising words, Mr. Harrington’s voice only gets louder. “You soiled the carpet beyond repair.” He punctuates his words with a raised finger, like he’s counting down all the sins he’s ready to lay at his son’s feet. “You made a spectacle of yourself in front of all the neighbors.” Another raised finger. 

He points both fingers  at Steve’s face, finger close enough to his nose that Eddie wants to snap out and bite it. “You left the garage open to be ransacked!” And here comes raised finger number three. 

Steve’s curling further and further into himself, creating distance between his Father’s wagging finger and his vulnerable face. 

“Leaving the door open, Steven?” Mrs. Harrington asks, just as aloof and uncaring of the scene in front of her, even as she says, “we could have been killed.”

Eddie can’t help the snort that comes out. It’s all just such a cartoonish display, almost unbelievable even as he watches it play out in front of him. He slaps his hand over his mouth, but both their gazes have already snapped over to him. 

Well, better him than Stevie. Stevie, who Eddie’s seen with that same curled posture hiding in his closet, and looking up at his own goddamn house from the passenger seat of Eddie’s van.

He’d been straight backed facing down a demogorgon but just the sight of his parents has him fading into himself. No fucking way. Not on Eddie’s watch.

Eddie slaps his own thighs once, sharp enough that it stings. Mrs. Harrington jumps, just a little, at the sound. Eddie stands, shifting on the balls of his feet until he’s just slightly in front of Steve, ready to defend. 

“Wouldn’t you have to actually be home for that?” Eddie asks.

Mrs. Harrington gasps, hand over her cheek like Eddie had slapped her. “Excuse me?” she asks, at the same time that Mr. Harrington demands, “who are you?”

Eddie puts his pointer finger to his chin, pouting like he’s really thinking this through. “You know, I think you’d know that if you were ever actually around.” 

Steve stands, shoulder to shoulder with Eddie as his Dad takes a threatening step toward Eddie. 

“This is Eddie,” Steve says, voice flat and cold. King Steve’s come out to play. Eddie grins, manic and wide in that way that’s always worked to rile up cops and teachers alike. It works just as well on the Harrington’s. He sticks out his tongue and almost laughs again when Mrs. Harrington takes a startled step back. “You’d know that if you gave half a shit about me.”

Mr. Harrington scoffs as he looks Eddie up and down, eyeing the rips in his jeans, the frayed hem of his t-shirt, the unkempt length of his hair. He turns away, dismissing him without even a word as he looks back at Steve. 

“It’s time to go,” he says, glaring down at his son. “We’ll talk about this at home.”

Steve takes a step away from Mr. Harrington’s grasping hands. Eddie reaches out, interlocking their fingers again and squeezing tight. The splint on Steve’s finger sticks out awkwardly, digging into Eddie’s own hand as Steve squeezes right back.

“Eddie is my home,” Steve says, like that isn’t the most romantic thing he’s ever heard.

He almost swoons, even as Mr. Harrington rages, looking between the pair of them, making connections Eddie desperately hopes are true and even more desperately hopes the man won’t go spreading around. 

“Last chance,” Mr. Harrington says. “Or we’re-”

He doesn’t get to finish. Wayne chooses that moment to walk in. His stance goes loose immediately, gaze sharp. 

“Richard,” he says. Calm, cool, and gruff as he meets both their enraged eyes, one after another. “Nora.”

Mrs. Harrington sucks on her teeth, mouth pursed as she holds her silence. Mr. Harrington has no such compunction. 

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

Wayne raises his eyebrow before turning his back on them to run his eyes over Steve and Eddie in turn. “You boys alright?” Steve nods, but Eddie raises his hand to flap it back and forth in a wishy-washy gesture that Wayne grimaces at. “Ready to go home?”

Richard scoffs, taking a threatening step forward. “What do you mean home?” Steve flinches as the last word lands with derision. Steve doesn’t respond, just looks down at his own shoes with a clenched jaw. 

Mrs. Harrington sighs, and it lands in the room like a blow. 

Wayne’s eyes have gone hold and hard as he turns around and steps fully in front of Steve. “Steve’s been staying with me for over a year,” Wayne says, tone modulated and controlled even as his hands clench. “And you didn’t even notice.”

“Steven,” Richard says, a warning hidden in his tone. “Last chance.”

Eddie leans around Wayne to look between the pair. He resists the urge to pull Steve behind him. Eddie squeezes his hand and is floored when Steve’s shoulders immediately straighten, chin raised just so, like he’s keeping his crown straight atop his head. 

He stands, shoulders back, head held high. Eddie stands right along with him. 

“I’m not going with you,” Steve says, boring holes into his Father’s head with the force of his conviction from behind Wayne’s shoulder. 

Mr. Harrington’s  jaw clenches with whatever he sees on Steve’s face. He reaches his hand out, palm open and beckoning. “Give me your keys,” he demands, curling his fingers like he’s in a cheesy karate movie and begging his opponent to make the first move. 

Steve laughs. “You want my car?” His laugh is hollow. “You’ll have to go get it from the trailer park.”

Mrs. Harrington eyes Eddie and Wayne like she’s putting pieces together he’d rather she not have. Even still, she turns away with an airy, “Come on, Richard.” When he doesn’t immediately follow her directions, she continues, “this isn’t the place.”

Mr. Harrington’s snarling like a dog, finger still raised in threat as he hisses, “this isn’t over,” before turning and striding through the door with enough careless force that his shoulder hits the frame with a meaty thwack. 

“See you next year, then!” Eddie calls, waving bitchily at their backs. 

They all stare at the open door, waiting for an attack that never comes until Mrs. Harrington’s heels stop echoing down the corridor. 

“What the hell was that?” Wayne asks gruffly. 

Steve’s jaw is clenched, as he glares out the open doorway, but at Wayne’s question, he slumps, stepping closer to Eddie until he can lay some of his weight onto Eddie’s shoulders. It hurts his ribs, but Eddie takes it gladly, wrapping his hand around Steve’s waist. 

“Just the usual,” Steve says, sounding exhausted. 

Wayne eyes him critically as Steve avoids his gaze. Eddie squeezes Steve’s side, flickering his fingers against his waist just to feel him wriggle against the feeling. 

“Alright, kid,” Wayne says, reaching out to squeeze both their shoulders comfortingly. Steve slumps further into Eddie who gladly takes his weight. “I think it’s about time we all get home.”

Eddie smiles, bumping his hip into Steve. 

He was already home. After all, Steve’s right here. 

Part 100

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren @canmargesimpson @bananahoneycomb @rainwaterapothecary @practicallybegging

[beenbaanbuun]

top hat and cane w/ arriba!mingi

words - i don’t know…

genre - smut

warnings - arriba!mingi, mean dom!mingi, degradation (slut, dumb), semi public masturbation, cane fucking (i’m so sorry), clothed sex, p in v, no protection, cum eating, choking kind of??, restraining kind of?????, cumming inside, please send help :D

——————————————————————————

watching mingi fumble round the stage dressed as willy wonka wasn’t exactly something you found yourself attracted to

the man underneath was a different story

you quite often fumbled under mingi’s sharp gaze that stares you down like he’s a lion and you’re his prey

but the top hat and the cane? you’d have to pass up on that opportunity

at the end of the song he comes rushing off the stage in his usual mingi way; all gangly and sweet and with zero evidence of the persona he’d just been flaunting

but then his eyes land on you and he straightens up before strutting towards you

you feel the cold metal of his cane pressing against your chin and tilting your head up to look at him, and before you know it your mind is blank

he whips his sunglasses off and folds them up, trailing them down your neck to hook them over the neckline on your tshirt

you gulp as you feel his finger linger on the fabric for a few seconds, just tugging it down ever-so-slightly before releasing it

“what do we have here?” his voice has dropped an octave and it goes straight to your core

you squeeze your thighs together and hope he doesn’t notice

by the way he quirks his brow, you can tell he does

if you didn’t have a cane holding you in place, you’d have dropped your gaze by now but instead you have no choice but to let him stare you down

“pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he mutters as he lets his face dip in closer until his lips graze against your earlobe, “a dirty little slut by the looks of it too. you’re fooling no one, sweetie.”

his words completely numb your brain until all you can think is mingi, mingi, mingi again and again

but just as he forces your mind to take a nosedive into nothingness, he pulls away

his lips are gone, and the cane is gone, and all of a sudden your boyfriend is standing in front of you with his usual wonky grin

“i have to go back on stage soon, sunshine,” he pouts as he takes his hat off and places it gently on your head, “look after that for me until i’m finished, okay?”

and you nod, because there’s no way you can even begin to farm a coherent sentence when your brain is still uselessly chanting his name

“good girl,” he giggles as he spins and passes you his cane before running off towards the stylists

you don’t watch the rest of the performance

you’re not sure you’ll be able to hold it together if you do

so instead you find an abandoned room somewhere backstage with nothing in it other than an old leather couch

you sit there, letting your short skirt lift up as you do so

your wet panties press directly against the leather, but you can’t find it in you to care about the mark it will inevitably leave

no, the only thing on your mind is the ache that sits low in your stomach

you could ignore it, but the longer you do the greater it gets

your clit is begging to be touched at this point, but you don’t know if you should

you don’t know how long you have left until the show is finished, and you have to be out front again to great your boyfriend and pretend that his stupid willy wonka cosplay hasn’t sent you spiralling into the depths of depravity

but judging by the noise outside, you assume that you maybe have 15 minutes until the show is over?

and you can be quick if you really want to

skip the self-foreplay and just go straight for the orgasm that you so desperately desire

with a sigh, you let your hand push your panties to the side and you relish the feeling of the cold air against your wet folds

you whine into the empty room as your fingers begin to rub against your slit, spreading the moisture up and down until you decide your clit is suitably lubed up

your fingers focus there next, rubbing gentle circles against the throbbing bundle of nerves that had been desperately begging for some relief ever since mingi called you a slut

he was kind of right, though

only a slut would be so desperately desperately playing with themselves in a public room, with a door that doesn’t even lock, on a sofa that isn’t theirs

the thought makes you moan, a mixture of anxiety and arousal bubbling up inside of you and causing your fingers to increase their pace

you’re quickly approaching your high, but it’s not enough

it’s on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t quite push yourself far enough to reach it

you need something inside of you

your eyes flicker to the side, landing on the cane

the head of it is a bulbous orb, and upon studying it for a few seconds, you reach the decision that it’s probably about the same width as your boyfriend’s cock

you whine at the thoughts rushing through your head, but before you can push them away, your idle hand is rushing forwards the grab the stem of the cane and pull it closer

the cold sphere is pressed to your core before you know it, and all it takes is a little pressure before it slips inside with a squelch

it’s cold and big, and it almost makes you squeal as you push it further inside, but god does it feel good

it stretches you open perfectly and you were right about it being the same size as mingi

it pushes at your gooey walls just like he does, and when it brushes against the squishy membrane that feels so fucking good, you finally let go

your orgasm is long and hard and leaves you deaf for just a few seconds

it would be fine, except for the fact that it means you don’t even notice the click of the door opening

“my, my,” a familiar voice grabs your attention and you turn your head quickly to where your boyfriend is shutting the door behind himself, “what do we have here?”

he walks to the corner of the room where an empty desk chair sits and grabs it

you watch as he takes it back the the door, using it to barricade the only way into the room

“dumb slut didn’t even make sure no one else would walk in,” he grunts as he turns to you, stalking closer and closer until he’s able to wrap a hand around your slack jaw, “although i bet you would’ve loved it wouldn’t you?”

you whimper as he crouches down just low enough to wrap a hand around the stem on the cane that still sits inside of you

he twists it once, letting it brush against your g-spot ever so gently

the way your eyes roll into the back of your head just makes him bark out a laugh

“you really were desperate, hm?” he tugs at the cane once more, pulling at it until he manages to completely pull it free

the pyrex ball glistens as your wetness coats it, dripping down it slowly

mingi studies it for a second before lifting it up to your face

“lick it clean,” he orders, “you messed it up so it’s your duty to clean it up, right?”

and you can’t argue with that logic, so you don’t

you let your tongue dart out and lick a stripe up the orb before fully wrapping your lips around it

you cheeks hollow out and you try your hardest to maintain eye contact with your boyfriend

but as you dip your head forward, the hat slips and covers your vision

you whine and lift your hand to take it off, but a sharp stinging sensation rings through it and you pull it back

“i thought i told you to look after that until i’m finished, slut,” he pushes it firmly back to where it sat before, “be a good girl and listen.”

mingi pulls the cane free with a pop

part of you expects him to just put it to the side and forget about it for a while as he fucks you into the couch

but instead you feel the thin base of it press against your chest as he pushes you back against the leather

it travels up to your chin so he can lift it once more

and when your eyes settle on his, all you can see is lust

pure, unadulterated lust

the cane retracts briefly, just long enough for mingi to undo his trousers and drop them along with his boxers

and then it’s back at your neck, only this time he’s holding it lengthways between his two hands and using it to pin you down

it’s gentle enough not to hurt you, but there’s still enough pressure for your breath to catch every time you inhale

“now, my little slut,” he grows as he straddles you, hard dick slipping against your folds, “use your pretty little hands and slip me inside, hm?”

you nod, well, as well as you can with a cane pressed against your throat

“y-yes, mingi,” you whimper as your hands go to grasp at the heavy appendage that’s leaking precum against your already stretched out hole

“good slut,” he spits out as you line him up so he can push inside, “let me fuck you just as good as my cane did. let me stretch you out and and fill you up, sweetie. it’s what little sluts like you deserve, isn’t it.”

he begins to thrust rhythmically into you, hips smacking against yours with such vigour and desperation that it reminds you of how you were playing with yourself not too long ago

it’s clear by his pants that he needs it just as bad as you do, and when his pace quickens, you realise that you are the cane in this situation

he’s just using you to get himself off, and fuck that’s hot

the thought makes you clench around him and he grunts loud and deep in response

“f-fucking play with yourself,” he says through clenched teeth, “wanna feel you c-cum around me, sweetie. always feels so good.”

and you do as he says as though it’s law

desperate fingers find your clit, just as they had earlier, and begin to rub sloppy circles against the wet bud

it’s still sensitive from your little self-pleasuring session and you can’t help the way your hips jerk up to meet his own

if his hands were free, you had no doubt he’d pin you down, but for now all he can do is glare

“did i say you could fucking move?” he says through gritted teeth, although the whine that follows it undercuts the domineering tone slightly, “f-fucking stay still or you won’t get anything.”

and you know that isn’t true - mingi’s never left you high and dry before, and you doubt the big softie is about to start now - but it still sends a wave of fear down your spine

sure, you’d already cum tonight, but there’s nothing wrong with being a little greedy

so you focus your mind on keeping your hips glued to the couch as you continue to chase the high that’s getting closer and closer

it happens a lot quicker this time, with an already sensitive clit and your boyfriend’s heavy cock pressing against your cervix again and again

before you know it, your body is quickening slightly and your walls are tightening against your boyfriend

the sensation makes his hips still against yours, and with a breathy moan, he releases his own load deep into you

the pressure of the cane is gone before you know it, quickly replaced by the pressure of mingi’s overgrown body as he lays down on top of you

his hand is quick to knock the top hat off of your head, and you watch as it bounces off of the couch, landing on the floor

fingers lace themselves within your hair and begin to rub against your scalp in a weird, half-hearted massage

“you did so well,” he finally mumbles against your ear, “such a good girl for me, sunshine.”

you nod, tiredly against his neck

“you were hot,” you mutter, “m’sorry i couldn’t wait for you to get here.”

he just chuckles

“you’re kidding, right?” he pushes himself up so he can see you properly, but you can’t help but whine at the loss of contact, “walking in on you fucking yourself with my cane was probably the hottest thing i’ve ever seen. i’ll be cumming to that memory forever.”

you giggle

“now come on, sunshine,” he slips out of you and stands up onto shaky legs, “let’s get you up and back to the hotel, okay? i need to take care of you and i’m sure as hell not doing it here.”

he pulls his pants back on and watches as you slip your panties back into place and smooth out your skirt

“good girl,” he whispers, “my good girl.”

[fandomwritingbit]

"Not so clever now , are you?"

Michael Afton x afab/smart mouth reader

Req: "Michael x fem reader where they are always going at it, reader has a smart mouth, but one day Mike just goes full dom on her and she goes completely sub."

Hi, @exverlysano I hope this is alright lmao, thank you so much for the request xx

Warnings: bad puns and smut

Morning: 

You watch your boyfriend turn his head to look out the rear window of his car whilst he reversed into a bay, noting that he looked good while he did it, his jaw sharp and shoulders broad. He clearly knew it too, because he hit you with a cocky smirk. When he was finished you open the door to check his positioning, laughing immediately. 

“You’re joking, Mikey, you can’t leave it like that. It’s wonky as.”

He mirrors you, cracking open the door, “What are you talking about? It’s fine.” He makes a point of closing the door again, loudly, looking at you as if you’re insane, becoming annoyed when you just match the stare.

Scoffing, you just shake your head. “Nah, it isn’t. It’s wonky. Won-key.” you tease, loving the crease between his brow. “But then again, it’s not the only thing that’s wonky is it?” you giggle, nudging him with your elbow.

He rolls his eyes at you, desperately trying not to give you a reaction because he knew how much it spurred you on. So you put your hand on his arm, using your best feigned apologetic face, “Sorry, Mikey… I know positioning has never been your strong suit.” you can’t make it through the sentence without grinning, and you don’t get it all out before he unclips his seatbelt and shoves the door open to step out. 

“Oh come on!” you laugh, “Come on, Mike - it’s funny!” he doesn’t think so, leaving you to grab your bag and rush out the car.

~

Afternoon:

You watch Michael playing fifa, it’s an online game, one that looks pretty intense too. So intense that even though he has a headset on you can hear the buzz of voices, no doubt swearing at each other in frustration. Seeing that the climax of the match isn’t far away, you sit down just inside his peripheral, watching the timer count down and the movement of his fingers becoming more frantic on the controller. 

You can see the crash from miles away, your lover talking loudly, “To me. To me, I’m open, come on. Yeah-” As the teammate obeys, Mike flummoxes, literally and metaphorically dropping the ball, screwing up the shot. The roar from his headset says it all. 

He turns to you, slowly pulling it from his head, the voices still buzzing, “Don’t.” His finger came up, trying to warn you, how cute. “Just don’t. I can’t believe-”

“You ballsed it up?” You say instantly, trying to stop your mouth from curling into your cheeky smile. When he doesn’t laugh, you double down. “Away, if you don’t think that’s a good joke then you’ve moved the goalpost.” 

“I’m serious, y/n. Don’t, I’m pissed off.” He starts to leave the room, but you catch his arm, looking up at him all innocent. 

“Yeah, I can see that…” You smile sympathetically, when his face softens your mind  practically vibrates with excitement. “As a treat why don’t I go and-” you crack, “score us some pizza.” He goes stiff under your grip and pulls himself away. 

“Absolutely fuck off. You don’t know when to quit, do you?” 

“Alright, Mike. No need to kick off.” 

~

Around 10pm it boiled over. 

Ever since you started dating Michael, you took the mick out of him 24-fucking-7, and you knew you could reasonably get away with it. He was too nice to you and given it was only poking fun he tried not to take it too seriously, and mostly he could just forget about the teasing in favour of the times when you’re soft and sweet. Like when you wake up and cuddle into him with no snarky remarks exchanged. When you make him a coffee and set it down beside him with no previous conversation. When you wrap your arms around his waist in public just to breathe his scent. 

But right now, he had enough. All day it had been non-stop, a quip here, some snarky criticism there, a joke at his expense. 

You’re minding your own business, sitting at a counter in the kitchen and scrolling on your phone, seeing him come in you flash him that cheeky grin, which perhaps normally would have made him smile back. But today he just looked past you to the dirty pots sitting at the side of the sink, instantly rolling his eyes. 

“Really? You can’t clean up after yourself?” he snaps, walking over to the sink and flipping the tap on full-whack out of anger, the water splashing you both. You jump back laughing, the cold seeping through your shirt, watching him turn it back off again, the pissed-off look not leaving his face. 

Standing on your tip-toes you wrap your arms around his neck from behind, devilish smirk still strong, “That’s not the way to go about making me wet, Mikey.” Your joke makes him tense under you, and even when you pressed a kiss against his cheek he didn’t soften. 

He let you slide around him and kiss him properly, your hands coming up to rub his chest. And it was tempting to let you take the lead and forgive you for all your teasing, especially when he felt himself twitch as your hands moved lower; then it occurred to him that he didn’t have to give in easily, he could make you work to earn his forgiveness.

His hand was suddenly rough in your hair, wrenching you against the counter where he again kissed you, his tongue pushing into your mouth. You moan against him, tugging at his shirt, this wasn’t like Michael at all, but you sort of liked it. You try to pull the fabric over his head and he grunts disapprovingly, shoving you against the counter harder, taking a handful of your tits. 

“Did I say you could do that?” he speaks against your lips before tilting his head to your neck, biting down on your flesh much harder than he usually would. 

“Ah-fuck.” you pant, struggling to keep up with him, as he pulls your trousers down around your ankles, “Since when did I have to ask?” you manage to bite back, before breaking into a moan as he sucked a mark on the underside of your jaw. 

Strong arms hook under you and lift you onto the kitchen counter, his foot prying the garments from around your ankles leaving them to fall to the floor. “Since now.” He says against your skin, so firmly that you giggle, this was a completely different look on him.

Your laughing provokes him to damn-near tear the shirt from your body, then force your bra high on your chest, leaving you all but completely nude in your kitchen, whilst the man in front of you stays fully clothed looking as close to menacing as he could. 

Michael drops down to the floor, surprisingly forceful hands spreading your legs for him and holding them firm. There he runs his fingers over your folds, eliciting a pitiful sound from you. “Look at you.” His tone is sharp and the words are spoken so close to your core it makes your stomach tense, “Only time you’re quiet is when I’m giving this pussy some attention. All you think about, huh?” You would have laughed again, if not for his tongue suddenly pressing against your nerves and sending a spark through your body. God, you wanted to complain and tell him he was moving too fast but your dripping heat was proof that you didn’t really mind it at all. 

Instinctively you grab his hair, a gasp escaping your lips as he sets a harsh pace of flicking between your clit and pressing into your hole. He takes hold of your wrist and pulls you from him, holding your hand against your thigh, looking up at you with a glare of warning that killed any thought of protest you had. 

“Yeah, nothing to say now.” He muttered, this idea of showing you who's boss now fully solidified in his head, the role coming to him easier than he would’ve thought. 

You only whine in response, feeling utterly pathetic but silently thrilled. This dominance was stirring you hardcore, making a frantic coil in your core form quick and desperate. His sucking of your clit is both not enough and too much at the same time. And without his hair to hold on to, you find yourself bruising your own skin with your grip, being shoved to your end by the now brutal movement of his tongue. It hits you like a tonne of bricks, non-existent purchase making your toes curl with the waves of pleasure he just wrought from you. He grunts when he feels you clench, the reminder of how tight you’d feel around him causing pre-cum to leak from his tip. 

With no time to get your bearings, he yanks you off the counter and you habitually wrap your legs around his waist, letting him carry you towards your bedroom, not really knowing what you were getting into. 

“Mikey, what’s come over you?” you gasp when he tosses you down onto the bed, looking big and scary over you. 

He looks down at you with an almost bored expression on his face, undoing his belt as he answers, “Just tired of your shit.” 

You blink, “You can’t be seri- Mike, I only joke like that because you usually take it so well-”

“Then, how about you take it well right now, huh?” 

You’re giggling again when he takes hold of your ankles to pull you closer to him. The sight of him slowly stroking his cock making your pussy flutter with the knowledge of his size, made worse by the harsh look of his face.  

Oddly, he takes his time, dragging the head of his dick through your slick, using it to stroke himself, before notching in your entrance slowly. He just loved how your breath hitched as he sunk in, he’d never tire of the feeling of you stretching for him and right now it tasted doubly sweet.

The familiar feeling of him inside you made you moan. But something about his calmness was stirring you, making you impatient for him to fully bury inside you, so you reach forward to grab his forearms, pulling at him. And it was like a switch flipped in his brain, why the hell do you still think this is your game? Has he not been clear enough? 

Without a word exchanged, he begins thrusting into you roughly, a grunt punctuating every time he fully sheathes, his cock shoving into the part of you that made you come undone so perfectly. He takes hold of your legs and pulls them upwards to see the view of your cunt taking him in, your greediness evident in your pooling slick and the pretty noises you’re making.  

You’re blinded by his near-ruthless pace, his hips snapping into yours with a force you’d never seen from him and it left you feeling fucking stupid. The mix of your squeaks and moans and the lewd sound of his action are close to chaos, so much so that you hardly register Michael talking.

“Ah-not so clever now, are you?” 

[simbouquet]

TS3: re:Cerberus – Default Replacement Eye Mesh & Textures

This is a little project I’ve been working on for the past month: a complete default replacement for the eye mesh and textures for Sims of all ages and genders. I realize it’s a bit niche and very specific to my personal taste, but I’m very happy to share it. 🙂

The name is a callback to an old piece of CC I made back in 2022, my first eye texture replacement, which I wound up disliking for a number of reasons and ultimately deleted from my blog.

More info and download under the cut!

Overview

I prefer for my Sims’ eyes to have smaller, more realistic looking irises. There are quite a few options out there, but I’ve never been 100% satisfied with how they looked.

On one hand, the vanilla EA eye mesh tends to stretch smaller eye textures, making them look slightly squared, and the occult eye glow creates an unsightly outline where the original texture would be.

On the other hand, aWT’s default replacement mesh does a good job at reducing the textures, but comes at the cost of sacrificing things like catchlights and occult eye effects. Buhudain does have a version of this mesh that restores them, but the catchlights can look a little wonky or jagged at times since the mesh wasn’t really intended to be used with them anyway.

Moreover, those defaults only had a LOD0, so in some cases where the game would use LOD1 in a few situations such as generating certain thumbnails, the vanilla EA eye mesh with massive irises would show up.

With all this in mind, I decided to try my hand at making my own version and ended up with a new mesh based on aWT’s eyes, which features the following:

A natural looking globe-like shape as opposed to a perfect sphere, which @justmiha97 helped me massively with. Though not 100% realistic, I do like the effect it gives and it doesn’t look weird or out of place.

Reduced iris size, pretty much the same as aWT’s mesh.

Slightly smaller catchlights, which I find pretty cute.

Available for all Sims, Toddler to Elder.

Includes LODs 0 and 1, allowing players on lower settings to use these replacements as well besides being cohesive where the game uses LOD1.

Lower poly than aWT’s mesh, but still a little higher than EA’s, thanks to @thornowl nearly halving the poly count from 608 to 320 triangles. See a comparison below.

EA’s mesh: 192 poly for Child thru Elder; 72 poly for Toddler. aWT’s mesh (+ Buckley’s Toddler & Child conversion): 540 poly for all ages. My mesh: 320 poly for all ages.

For the textures, I edited escand’s beautiful Tiffany Glaze eyes, which I’d already been using on EA’s mesh for quite a while. I made the texture a bit larger, similar to EA’s default size, so that it won’t look too small on my mesh, and made some other small modifications to the texture.

I’ve included a replacement for the face overlay for all ages, which combines textures from @potatobuttcheek’s Eyelashes N1, @aikea-guinea’s teeth and missy harries’ sclera. The overlay also gets rid of the lip tint for female Sims and the sclera has a tiny bit of transparency that blends in subtly with the Sim’s skin color. It’s a neat little effect EA used with their own sclera texture, but I hadn’t seen it replicated in many other defaults.

Previews

CAS preview of EA eye colors on the re:Cerberus mesh and textures.

In-game previews of the eyes in light colors, dark colors and with occult effects.

All previews use my Eye Shader Tweaks and VirtualHugs’ ColorLash + Judson’s Bottom Eyelashes.

Compatibility & Known Issues

The mesh and textures are currently default replacements only. I don’t use contacts in my game, so I haven’t made a non-default version.

You can mix and match by using my mesh with other textures, or using my texture on a different mesh. For reference, my mesh reduces eye textures to about the same size as aWT’s mesh.

My mesh uses SimEyes shaders because I wanted to retain the catchlights and occult effects. I haven’t made a SimSkin version, but you can easily change the shader of the GEOM resources using s3pe if you really want to.

My mesh is incompatible with aWT’s eye sliders; they will not look right if you use them because they’re made specifically for aWT’s eye mesh. I’ve never really used these sliders so I haven’t looked into making them compatible.

My texture is incompatible with Gruesim’s heterochromia eye mesh. It will look bad if you try to use them together.

The occult eye glow is a mess by EA’s design. The effect is slapped on the eye mesh without any awareness as to where the iris is actually placed; in fact, it’s not even aligned correctly on their own eyes. I hope to be able to fix this one day and make it work properly with any eye textures, but shader modding is not an easy or fast task, so please bear with me.

Download: SFS / MTS

Place the .package files in your Packages or Overrides folder.

Credits & Thanks

s3pe: Exporting/Importing resources, creating the package file.

Blender: Creating the eye mesh.

Adobe Photoshop 2024: Editing the texture, creating the preview images.

aWT’s Eye Mesh: Basis for my mesh edit.

Buckley’s Toddler & Child Conversion of aWT’s Eye Mesh: Used as a reference for the positioning of my toddler and child mesh.

escand’s Tiffany Glaze eyes: Basis for my texture edit.

potatobuttcheek’s Eyelashes N1: Used in my face overlay.

Aikea Guinea’s Multifoiled eyes: Source for the teeth texture used in my face overlay.

missy harries’ EA Face Overlay fix: Source for the sclera texture used in my face overlay.

Thank you to @justmiha97 and @thornowl for their contribution to the mesh. ❤️

Thank you to @probablyzora’s Zoe Saora for modeling the occult eyes! 💋

[echo-bleu]

Noldor Hair Headcanons (3/4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | On AO3

Some lighter Kidnap Fam content, after the downhill freefall that was the last chapter. With a dash of Finrod in Valinor.

Elrond and Elros have never had their hair braided when they end up with Maedhros and Maglor.

They don’t realize what they’re asking when Elros grabs a hairbrush and puts it in Maglor’s hand.

Maglor understands that, but decides that the twins need parental care, even though he has no right. He brushes their hair and leaves it loose at first.

But the twins have watched Maglor braid Maedhros’s hair and they soon start asking for more interesting hairstyles.

Eventually Maglor explains to them that it can only be done by family.

The twins have a whole silent conversation.

“What does it take to be family?” Elros asks eventually.

Well, braiding an unrelated child’s hair is pretty close to informal adoption.

Elros forces the brush into Maglor’s hand again.

Maglor stares.

Elrond shakes his head and runs out.

Of course, Elrond must hate them. He has every right. Sure, Elros has started to warm up to them, but that’s just because he’s affection-starved, probably. They’re still kidnappers.

Maglor is about to put down the brush and try to refuse when Elrond comes back.

He’s holding a second hairbrush.

He hands it to Maedhros expectantly.

Maedhros cries.

Maglor cries.

The twins’ hair really doesn’t hold braids very well, and they’re still kids who run around and play, but damn them if Maglor and Maedhros aren’t going to do their best.

Now all of their people can see that the twins are well-loved.

Maedhros and Maglor also proudly sport a few clumsy, wonky braids each.

They’re less wonky with time, and eventually the twins are doing their fathers’ (kidnappers’) hair as often as not.

Finrod is reembodied shortly before Eärendil and Elwing gets to Valinor. It’s too early and he’s Not Doing Well. While in Middle Earth, he was the one who let basically every one of his friends braid his hair, now he can’t stand the thought of someone touching him that way.

But Beleriandic battle braids feel wrong in Tirion. And he’s desperately trying to reckon with his trauma, with Sauron defeating him by singing about the kinslaying, so he can’t leave his hair loose like the Teleri.

And he can’t quite get the sight of Edrahil’s bloody braids spat out by a werewolf out of his head.

He wears nothing but the very strange-looking (to Amanyar) Mourning Braids he designed after Dagor Bragollach for a couple of years.

Then after an episode of really bad depression and nearly fading, he cuts his hair short.

No-braiding-possible kind of short.

While not unheard of in Beleriand (sometimes former thralls keep their hair very short, like Rog), it’s unthinkable in Valinor, especially for the Crown Prince of the Noldor.

He is stared at a lot, his reputation goes down the drain, but to Finrod it’s liberating.

He does let his hair grow out again eventually, but only when other Exiles start coming back and choose to keep the Beleriandic braid styles, and it becomes a fashion statement rather than a mark of shame.

Finarfin is Very Shocked arriving in Beleriand when he finds his (single remaining) child with her hair loose and everyone else with weird self-braided battle hairstyles.

After a battle or three where he ends up with his hair matted with blood and mud, he caves and gets Galadriel to give him battle braids.

By the end of the war he’s even learned to do them himself! Let it not be said that King Arafinwë Ñoldóran didn’t rise to his calling.

The night before sending the Elrond and Elros to Gil-galad, Maedhros and Maglor undo all of their braids. Everyone cries.

Maedhros and Maglor meant this to minimize the ‘taint’ their names would put on the twins, by making it look like they were still hostages to the end, but the twins stop on the way to do each other’s hair because one does not meet a king with their hair loose, they have manners (which the Fëanorians taught them, so they’re Very Specific Manners), so the effect is lost. Gil-galad has Questions. The twins refuse to lie.

Then, before going to steal the Silmarils, Maedhros and Maglor do each other’s hair, in a style of their father’s that they haven’t worn since the Oath.

Maglor braids a single golden ribbon into Maedhros’s hair.

They have very few pieces of hair jewellery left of their brothers’, but they use all of them.

They both know it’s the last time.

To be continued

I did some sketches for visual reference of a few of the hairstyles mentioned here, if you want to see what I'm imagining!

[white-poppie]

⎯ I’ll be lovin’ you right ♡ (m.atsumu x reader)

SYNOPSIS: The playboy of your high school, Atsumu Miya apparently has a thing for you. After having rejected his advances, Atsumu is 'heartbroken' (quotes intended). Seeing his melancholy, his brother Osamu tells you to give him a week to prove himself out of the playboy image. Can Atsumu prove his adoration towards you being pure without any other intentions in seven days a week? SONG REC: 'Seven' by Jungkook GENRE: FLUFF, long fic WC: 2.1k WARNINGS: sad sumu agenda, heights, it might seem wonky on Monday and Tuesday, but it gets so much better ୨୧ A/N: I AM SO TIRED I CAN"T ANYMORE!!! *dies dramatically*

You rejected Atsumu Miya last Friday.

The taller blonde stood in front of you in his gym clothes. The jersey #05 in white stood out from the rest of the maroon uniform.

You looked at him blankly, as he had been beating around the bush for the past few minutes. You were hungry; it was lunch. But, as a matter of habit, you were curious. Too curious for your own good. As he continued to talk, he became increasingly vague. You wanted to understand what he was trying to say, but your hunger took over, and you were losing patience.

“Atsumu, I am sorry but I don’t really get what you are talking about. How is Suna looking through your phone relevant?” You say with a pinch of annoyance in your voice. Atsumu sighs and takes a deep breath.

“My bad...what I mean is…I like you and everyone teases me for it 'cause I act like an idiot around you.” You are always an idiot is what you want to say but you purse your lips and look at him quizzically. Is he seriously confessing to you because he dislikes being teased by his team?

“I am sorry but I don’t think your feelings are sincere, Atsumu san,” you say respectfully. “I am sorry.” You feel like he is only confessing to you out of a desire to fit in with his friends and avoid their teasing, rather than out of genuine affection for you.

Atsumu frowns and nods. It’s not something he is used to, but he doesn’t protest even if it really hurts his ego. You sigh as you leave the gym, almost feeling sorry for him. If it weren't you, it would be someone else.

On Saturday, you meet Osamu at the supermarket. Awkwardly standing at the cashier line, the grey-haired Miya smiles softly at you and nods in acknowledgement. The air is heavy with tension as both of you silently pay for your groceries.

"Y/N," he says, and you pause in your tracks, about to leave. "Can we talk?" It's a dreaded notion that you nod at. You follow Osamu out of the market with your grocery bag in one hand as you approach a bench on a kid's playground.

Osamu sits next to you, his back leaning on the rest casually as he tries to muster the softest voice possible in his Kanto dialect.

“Heard ‘Sumu asked ya to date him…” he says solemnly. You freeze at the sudden statement and nod apprehensively.

“M not saying this cause he’s my brother, but Atsumu…he is a nice guy; his reputation is quite wrong from how he actually is.” He says and you almost have to double take, wait…Osamu is supporting Atsumu?

He interlaces his fingers and looks at the ground, “I’ve never seen him as serious about someone as he is for you, and the whole team notices it.” He pauses, “Atsumu is cocky but easily embarrassed when teased about stuff like this, he made a premature decision to have confessed to you.” 

Osamu takes a deep breath before speaking next, "Y/n I am asking you for a favour…I want you to give Atsumu seven days to prove himself.” Your eyebrows scrunch at his words, and before you can interject, he speaks again.

“I know it’s not the best idea, but I know him and as much as I enjoy Atsumu being sad, I know he’ll soon enough be miserable ⎯ because that’s how men are, they lose their chance with someone and then develop stronger feelings for that person causing it all to hurt more.” He says and pauses, “it will impact his career to Y/N, not that I am saying that you’re responsible for him, but just stating things.”

“Give yourself some time to think and text me if you are for giving him seven days to prove himself. Let me know tomorrow.”

On Sunday, you spend most of the morning staring at your ceiling. Pondering what Osamu said You know deep down that he wouldn't steer you wrong, and you have seen how sincere Osamu is in his opinions.

You take a deep breath and send a quick text to Osamu.

"I'm in."

And thus started the mission: to make you fall in love with Atsumu Miya in seven days.

Monday

You sigh as you close the door of your house behind you, only to find Atsumu standing right in front, his schoolbag on one shoulder, and the trademark Atsumu grin on his face: "Morning, Y/N!"

Your eyebrows scrunch at his sudden joyful declaration, "Morning." You reply, and then it hits you: How did he know where you lived?

"How do you know my address?" You ask in bewilderment, and he grins sheepishly.

"I asked my way around; I wanted to pick you up, so I left at 5," he says proudly, and you just stare at him, unsure how to react. The intention was sweet, but does he realise how creepy that is?

You smile awkwardly and nod, walking towards school as Atsumu follows you like a duckling, humming a 00's song. As vexatious as it might be, there was something oddly endearing about Atsumu's unconventional way to win you over, like a pathetic wet kitten.

"Y/N?" he says as you look towards him. "Wanna grab lunch after school tomorrow? I have practice almost the entire day today." You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should accept his invitation. The thought of spending more time with Atsumu both intrigues and scares you. "Sure, why not? Lunch sounds nice." 

Tuesday

 On Tuesday, you find yourself anxiously awaiting lunchtime, your mind filled with a mix of excitement and nerves. As the final bell rings, you make your way to the designated meeting spot, hoping that Atsumu will show up. And sure enough, there he is, standing by the school gates with a mischievous grin on his face.

"I know a good ramen shop nearby," he says, and you smile while walking with him. As you enter the small, cosy restaurant, the aroma of savoury broth and freshly cooked noodles fills the air, instantly making your mouth water. Atsumu confidently orders for both of you.

The order arrives, and you take a bite of the hot noodles, your eyes instantly widening in delight. "Holy this is amazing; why is this place so underrated?" You gasp, and he chuckles at your words as if you are the most adorable thing in the world.

You almost blush at his gaze before it hits you, its a challenge for him. You are a challenge to him. There's a dull pain in your chest as you keep eating your ramen. The more you eat, the more you can't help but wonder if Atsumu's intentions are genuine. Is he truly interested in you or is he just looking for another conquest? 

Wednesday

You notice that Atsumu is ignoring you completely today. He doesn't even acknowledge your presence when you walk into the room. It leaves you feeling confused and hurt. You try to brush it off, convincing yourself that maybe he's just having a bad day. But deep down, you can't shake off the feeling of being used and toyed with.

The school ends, and you are walking to your home before you feel your hand being grabbed. You turn around in panic and see Atsumu, his eyes softening at your distress as he realises your hand. 

"I want to talk to you," he says softly. his eyes, filled with genuine concern, melt away any resistance within you. 

"Okay," you reply, finally feeling ready to address the mixed signals and confusion that have left you feeling hurt.

"The way you were looking at me yesterday made me think that you were misunderstanding my intentions here." He says and takes a deep breath, "I genuinely like you, YN. I am not stupid. I can see your confusion. Do you really think I am that bad of a person?"/ The vulnerability and hurt in his voice are almost making your heart ache. "No," you reply softly, meeting his gaze. "I don't think you're a bad person. I just... I've been so confused, and I didn't know how to interpret your actions."

"Why?" he asks.

"Because you play with hearts, and I didn't want mine to be another casualty," you admit, your voice wavering. "But seeing how vulnerable and honest you're being right now, I can't help but reconsider." Emotions swirl within you as you take a moment to gather your thoughts. "I want to believe that you genuinely like me, but I need reassurance that I won't end up getting hurt." 

Atsumu smiles at you, reconsidering, and says softly, "It's one week, right? It's not even halfway; don't you know I am full of surprises?"

Thursday

"Come on, it'll be okay!" He says as he grabs your hand and runs to the school roof with you, your lunchboxes in hand.

"What if someone catches us?" You say in panic. 

Atsumu looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and laughs. "Who cares? We'll worry about the consequences later, if there are any."  He says and settles on the ledge, patting the spot next to him for you to sit on. 

You gingerly open your bento as you two eat and Atsumu rants about his practice, occasionally stealing a bite or two from your box You can't help but laugh at Atsumu's playful antics, feeling the stress of getting caught dissipate. As he swipes another bite from your lunch, you playfully scold him, but secretly enjoy the exchange. 

You take a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline rush through your veins. As you gaze out at the sprawling cityscape before you, you can't help but feel a sense of freedom and excitement. In that moment, you realise that maybe taking risks with Atsumu isn't such a bad idea after all.

Friday

Atsumu sits in another row, leaning back on his chair, big and burly, his hand resting on the chair's backrest as he chats with his friends, his obnoxious laughter filling the room as you wait for the teacher.

Atsumu momentarily looks at you, and his eyes soften. A small grin is etching its way on his face, and he waves playfully at you. You got caught looking.

The class soon starts, and the teacher begins the lesson. About half an hour later, you feel tapping on your shoulder. You look back as the girl behind you gives you a small chit, pointing towards Atsumu, wordlessly, the author of the message.

You unfold the tiny piece of paper underneath your desk, preventing any onlookers with their perverse gazes and loud mouths.  "Whatcha looking at?" You huff at his lame attempt, a slight warmth blooming on your cheeks as you contemplate your response.  After a moment of hesitation, you take out your own pen and scribble a reply on the chit, "Not you."

"Ouchie, baby, you've hurt my feelings."Atsumu pouts, making an exaggerated sad face, as he pretends to wipe away imaginary tears as he hands the chit back to you.   You chuckle softly at his antics as he sends another chit. "We have a match on Sunday; be there." You raise an eyebrow at his invitation. "Only if you promise not to show off too much."  Atsumu grins mischievously, accepting the challenge with a nod.

Saturday

Most of Saturday goes around with you frolicking around your house, getting over your chores. You decide not to text Atsumu, knowing that he will be busy with practice, but you find yourself mulling over him more than you'd like. As the day goes on, you find yourself checking your phone more frequently, hoping for a message from him. 

You groan as you flop on your bed and take a deep breath. "Here goes nothing."

How's [delete] That's too informal, right?

How is practice going? [delete] No, that sounds so plain. All those assignments about real-life talking versus texting articles were right; it's so difficult to detect tone!

Hey! [send]

How is practice going? [send]

Okay better. You sigh as you keep your phone on the stand and groan to finish your work. BEfore you hear a ping sound and immediately run over to the phone.

Atsumu: +1 photo

Your heart thumps as you open it. Its a selfie, Atsumu grinning like a child, his hair sweat and face flushed, with the caption: "grinding! 💪🔥"  In the background, you can see a low-quality Osamu photobombing, his hands on his waist, and you can't help but giggle. He'll be okay.

Sunday

On Sunday, you find yourself standing outside the gymnasium, nervously adjusting your bag strap.  As the doors swing open, you step inside, greeted by the sounds of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor and the echo of volleyball spikes as a warm-up.

You shift on your feet in front of the gate before Suna spots you, a fox-like grin on his face before he turns towards his teammate.

"Oi, Atsumu, your lucky charm is here," he says in a teasing voice, and you can't help but flush ever-so-slightly.

"Shut up, Suna." Atsumu groans lowly as he looks up from his stretching routine without breaking his stance, his shirt hiking up slightly as he smiles at you before walking towards you. 

"Hi," he says softly, as if he was almost expecting you to not show up.

"Hi," you mumble.

"I didn't think you'd actually come," he manages to say, his words coming out in a breathless whisper, and you can't help but smile. You look back briefly to see the entire team grinning at the two of you silently.

Atsumu looks back, and you swear you saw his cheeks redden. "Scram!" he says, his voice breaking, and a few of the members can't help but snort at the sound, especially Osamu.

"Sumu, the game boutta, start," he calls his twin as you see the other team lining up.

Atsumu looks back at you with a slight pout on his lips. "Cheer f'me?" He asks softly, and your heart thumps. Atsumu hates when his fangirls cheer for him. You give Atsumu a warm smile and nod. "Of course."  Is this what Osamu was talking about? You are special in his eyes? 

The game begins with an intense match, with both teams clawing at each other's throats. But amidst the chaos, you can't take your eyes off Atsumu. But it's fierce; you can see Inarizaki losing hope after the first set, and you can sense Atsumu's frustration rising. Set one over, and Inarizaki is behind. You see the players huffing and groaning in disappointment as they go to the bench to strategize and relax. You keep observing Atsumu from the audience, noticing how his brows furrow and his jaw tighten with every passing moment. Despite the mounting pressure, he never loses his focus. As the second set begins, their strategy still doesn't seem to be working, and Atsumu and Osamu seem livid.

Amidst the chorus of shouts, you can't help but scream, "Atsumu! You've got this! Stay determined!" Surprised, Atsumu lifts his head and locks eyes with you for a brief moment before a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. You silently vow to always be his biggest fan, both on and off the court.

He tightens his grip on the volleyball, channelling all his frustration and energy into each powerful serve. With every swing of his arm, the ball slices through the air, landing with a resounding thud on the opposing team's side of the court.  The tension is palpable; you keep praying for him as he strikes, misses. Team strikes, team misses. Just one more, and before you can register it, the final spike is delivered by Atsumu. The crowd erupts into applause. 26-28. Inarizaki won.

The team erupts into what seem to be roars of victory, and you can't help, but smile widely when you watch Atsumu pat his teammates before Kita pats his back and points at you, saying something you can't hear. Atsumu nods at him before he runs towards the crowd, and your heart starts thumping. In your mind, you are squealing as loud as his fangirls when Atsumu leans over to the boundary right in front of you as he smiles at you, and you smile back with the same intensity for the first time.

"How was I?" He says, and you can't help but lean forward and hug him tightly. His eyes widen at the sudden embrace, and he freezes before hugging you back in his arms, all sweaty, and almost lifting you up from the audience. Atsumu looks into your eyes, his face twitching with nervousness, before he leans and captures your lips in a kiss. His breathing is shaky, and you flush before returning the kiss to his quivering lips. The audience is filled with mixed reactions, but they are silent and gasping for most

When you pull away, you look back and see all of Inarizaki hooting and clapping loudly for you two. The kiss turns both your brains into mush, and you realise that Atsumu is capable of "loving you right."

© white-poppie 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, or translate without permission. do not claim work or layout as yours.

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[seriesxwriting]

Giving in to you

W stiles stilinski

𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮- 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 (𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫)

Series- tw (teen wolf)

Paring- stiles and McCall fem reader

Warnings- kissing, t-shirt removing, swearing, um cliff jumping??

Summary- you can’t tell stiles how you feel. He’s your best friends brother, surely he wouldn’t even look at you twice. But on the anual camping trip you realised that he’s struggling to not give in to you just as much as you are him.

———————————————————————

The anual camping trip. It was that time once again where me, my family and a few family friends all packed up the cars to the brim just to camp out in a cold, boring woods. Needless to add the fact there was no wifi or electricity, even working toilets didn’t accompany us on the trip. I knew it was going to be a weekend of my mum trying and failing to catch fish, stiles and Scott ditching me, made up camp fire stories and uncomfortable sleeping.

Still, i couldn’t get out of it. So here I stood with my hands on my hips biting my lip trying to figure out if my orange, wonky tent was supposed to be wonky or if it would fall down and suffocate me in my sleep. I guess that would be a way out of the trip. 

“Y/n- that doesn’t look right” my brother observed as he walked over holding his backpack with one strap on his shoulder. “Yeah.. I was just thinking that” “you didn’t pull the strings tight enough” stiles chuckled joining us, he began pulling the strings out the ground. “Pass me the hammer” he pointed to my hand with a smile. He was so cute.

Shut up y/n, that’s your brothers best friend don’t be selfish he wou- “hellloo? Earth to y/n” stiles called out pulling me from my day dream. “Shit- here” I passed him the hammer and using his strong muscular arms pushed it into the ground making my tent look somewhat normal. “Thanks” I smiled when he stood back up. “Well i don’t want it falling on us when we’re asleep” he laughed giving me the hammer back. When his hand touched mine I felt electric sparks fly off.

“Us?” “Yeah, my tent was wrecked so Scott said i could just crash with you guys” stiles explained looking down at it. “Not a- problem Right?” “N- no no not at all” I practically shouted feeling nervous, stiles looked at me with one eye closed. It felt like it was just us here, even though everyone was clanging around us. “A-are we okay? I dunno it’s just felt like you’ve been a bit off with me recently” stiles asked turning to look at me once more.

Yeah because I realised I liked you more than I’m supposed to, more than I’m allowed to. “Yeah we’re fine of course we’re fine” “good- good, your the last person I wanna fall out with you y/n” stiles told me lowering his voice as if we were talking about some secret drug deal that was about to go on. You’d think Scott would be the last person he wanted to fall out with, right?

I couldn’t tell if he was flirting EVER. He was quite hard to read. It was stuff like this that he said to me that made me fall for him. I wonder what he was thinking. “No we’re- fine, Im just- I don’t really like these trips so I’m a bit off I guess” “why don’t you like them?” He wondered with a little laugh. “Because- I’m in the middle of the wood with no phone and I stick to my mums side like we’re magnets because there’s nothing else to do”

“What? There’s loads to do why don’t you ever come with me and Scott to explore and mess about?” Stiles jerked his head back in shock, my lips pressed together looking at stiles. “I didn’t get an invite” “yes you did, I always tell Scott to ask if you want to join us- always”. I took a second to swallow that information. Fucking Scott. I didn’t want to bate out my brother but that had really pissed me off. “Maybe I wanted an invite from you” I shrugged softly smirking still holding eye contact with the boy.

“Did you now?”. I hummed in response keeping my thoughts a mystery, stiles let out a breathy laugh breaking our eye contact for a second. His cheeks turned slightly pink almost as if he was nervous. “Well you’ve got an invite, trust me i wouldn’t turn down spending any time with you”. I watched his eyes carefully, so when I saw them flick to my lips I knew for a fact he was thinking what I was thinking. We gave each other a look both knowing exactly what we were both imagining right now.

“Stiles! Come help me with the air bed” Scott shouted over from the famous jeep breaking the tension between us. Stiles looked across at Scott and then back to me “you coming?” “No I’ll leave that to you men” my hands shot up in defence and a laugh tumbled out of my pink lips. “The quicker it’s done the quicker we can get away from camp” he wiggled his eye brows at me before his arms stretched out and pressed down on my shoulders.

Stiles turned me around and walked me over to Scott as I giggled and tried to escape his grasp. Us three on our own carried the bed into the tent and managed to blow it up to an adequate level of comfortableness. After that was done we filled the tent with everything it needed, that being the flasks, the cool box, blankets and pillows and our bags with some change of clothes and activities to keep us occupied. It was much more fun doing it with stiles and Scott instead of just my brother this time.

“It looks perfect, shall we set off?” Stiles looked to Scott who had gotten comfy in one of the chairs. He had a flask of tea and a pink flowery blanket sprawled across his lap. But that didn’t matter, he was the alpha he could do as he wished with no questions asked. “Yeah sure, let’s go that way” he pointed behind our tent “mum, we’re going off to have a look about” Scott called out grabbing his mum’s attention, she stopped her conversation with Noah to wave at scott.

“Alright hun, will you bring some sticks back with you for another fire” she pointed to the pan sitting on the chard sticks. “Yeah will do, here y/n you can finish my tea” Scott said clearing making the assumption that I wasn’t coming with them. “She’s coming, just leave your tea there it will still be hot” stiles explained pointing at the ground. Scott’s eyes flicked towards me. “Come on” I told him with a sarcastic smile knowing he didn’t want me there. “Fine” he muttered putting his drink down in the grass and bouncing up, heading into the woods.

Stiles turned his head to give me a soft smile and nodded me along. He waited until I got to his side and then we followed scott into the woods. “I shouldn’t have worn shorts and a crop to these mozzys are killing me” i snarled slapping my leg trying to kill the blood sucker. “Gonna have to disagree, I like your outfit” stiles shrugged lightly looking down at me “this is just stuff I usually wear nothing special” I giggled shaking my head.

“I know, I remember when you wore that top to school because the boys wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it all day long” stiles rolled his eyes. What was going on. “I-m sure they were just- messing around” “i don’t care either way they shouldn’t have been saying it they shouldn’t have even been looking” stiles told me in a much more serious tone making my heart pound against my chest. “Stiles it’s really not that deep” I shook my head making my hair fall into my face. “It is to me” I heard him mutter under his breath.

“Why” “Because i couldn’t stop them- no one, I couldn’t stop their thoughts about you i couldn’t stop them looking at you” he told me stopping in his tracks making me stop too and look directly into his baby brown eyes. Was he jealous? No he couldn’t be it, couldn’t it? “Because your not mine and that felt shit”. I blinked at the boy towering over me as the air pulled it’s self out of my throat and my heart nervously pumped out of my chest.

“Guys! Come check this out!” Scott yelled from up ahead. “We should- go” stiles began walking putting a defensive wall up between us. I watched him walk off for a few moments before I made my own move. I was so confused. We trudged through the sky scraping trees before we got to a clearing and there stood a huge lake with a sort of waterfall coming down from some rocks. “Looks like fishing is on the table” Scott told us as we took in the view. “It’s beautiful” “yeah, beautiful” stiles agreed, but when I looked across at him he wasn’t looking at the view. He was looking at me.

“Let’s go see if there’s any rocks at the bottom of the water, if there isn’t we should be able to jump in” Scott wriggled his eyebrows up and down. He bagan to wade his way in after removing his top. Stiles copied throwing his top onto the the floor and removing his shoes. I had to grit my teeth together so my mouth didn’t hang open or I started drooling. Scott turned around splashing at stiles beginning a water bending fight. “There’s no rocks over here” stiles called out ten seconds before he disappeared under the water.

“And it’s pretty deep too” he yelled when he came up for air. His hands ran through his hair and the moment felt as if it was played In slow mo. “Come on y/n, climb up” stiles shouted as he began pulling himself out the water onto the rock formation. “I don’t really- like hights!” I yelled back across the water. “Don’t be a baby!” Scott cackled as he climbed up behind stiles. I let out an annoyed sigh before taking off my shoes. I went round so I didn’t have to get into the water.

When I reached the top the boys were lying on the grass laughing and panting. “I won! I beat the alpha!” Stiles howled out and he fist pumped the air. “You got out first” Scott laughed shaking his head while standing. He looked down at the water before backing up. “Your just jealous j-e-a…” Stiles chuckled sitting up with his legs dangling down. Scott whizzed past us cutting stiles off, taking a large leap into the air and then plummeting into the water. I gasped covering my mouth but relaxed after I heard a splash and then a very excited scream come from my brother mouth.

“Come On” stiles looked my way laughing a little. “I’m not sure sti” I chewed on my lip looking down. “Do it with me then” he told me pushing up off the floor. “You can close your eyes if you have to” he leant his head to the side playfully “come on I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, you just have to hold on” “fine” I rolled my eyes trying to hide my smile. “Get on” stiles tapped his back, slowly walking over I held onto his shoulders and then jumped onto his back. He caught me tightly holding me against him.

“You okay?” He asked gently turning around to me, my chin was resting on his shoulder so our faces were now inches away from each others. “Y-yeah” I gave him a breathy answer. “Good” he answered looking at the side of the cliff that we were edging towards. “Stiles i don’t….” And with that he leaped far off the cliff. I felt the air rushing past my whole body. I couldn’t breath. And then we hit the cold water. Letting go of stiles I splashed about panicking, but I felt a hand on my wrist pulling me up to the surface.

“You okay?” Stiles laughed attaching a hand to my hip bringing me towards him so I was sturdy until my memory of treading water was triggered. “That was fucking awesome! Let’s go again” I rushed swiping my wet hair out of my face. Stiles left out a laugh throwing his head back, I looked at Scott who was looking at us suspiciously. “You coming?” I quizzed pulling instantly away from stiles and swimming to rock wall. “Yeah” Scott nodded. And that’s what we did for what felt like hours. Messing around in the water.

On the way back we collected some stick for the fire but it was pretty hard as the moon was coming up and our source of light was no more above us. When we got back to camp our food was ready, apparently Noah got tired of waiting for us and went off to get sticks himself, so we now had a surplus of sticks. We told them about the body of water we found and surprise surprise my mum said we can go fishing tomorrow. And as if somebody was reading what I was saying, the camp stories began after dinner.

“Dad you didn’t see a ufo on one of your calls” stiles rolled his eyes laughing. “Were you There stiles? No, so how would you know what I saw?” Noah raised an eyebrow at his son who still didn’t believe him. “We dunno what’s out there” Scott shrugged looking up at the stars. “We’ve seen things that no one else would believe” “yeah but… aliens?” My mother chewed her lip nervously, clearly frightened of that idea. “I think I’m going to go and get comfy, if I don’t come back out Goodnight everyone” I smiled pushing up from the fold up chair.

“Night sweetheart” my mum beamed at me. I unzipped my tent, it was quite big it had two compartments one for sleeping and one for living in. I spent what felt like hours sitting in the corner with a blanket reading my book before I decided to get changed into my pjs for extra comfort. I climbed into some gym shorts and I was just about to put my top on before stiles stepped into the tent. “Shit- shit I’m- sorry” he swallowed nervously turning around quicker than I’d ever seen him move.

“It’s just a bra stiles” I laughed shrugging it off while trying to find the top I wanted. “No I- should have knocked” “we’re in a tent” I told him feeding my head through the hole and my arms after. “Where is everyone?” “Everyone’s in the car listening to some music, most of the adults are drunk” “as per, You can turn around now and stop complaining” i sniggered while zipping up my bag. “Oh that wasn’t me complaining, that was me respecting you- and boundaries” he said when he looked back at me. “Well next time Don’t be so respectful”.

Stiles watched my smirk from the floor as he tried to figure out what I meant by that. “Don’t start something because I will finish it” stiles told me as flick of excitement flashed in his eyes. “I don’t know what you mean by that- I don’t know what you mean half the time” I scoffed looking at him with my y/e/c eyes. “Stop it because I’m trying so hard here…” he sighed looking upwards. “Trying hard to do what” “keep control- but that’s not something I have when I’m around you” he admitted. I was bored of messing around.

I needed to know what he was thinking, what he felt. “Then give in, why are you trying?”. Stiles looked back down at me hungrily, I saw the exact moment he gave up the control. He darted towards me lowering to my level. I knew exactly what was about to happen. Stiles latched his lips onto mine holding my face close as if he didn’t want to let me go. I pulled myself up so my body could be closer to his and an arm went around his neck, my hand pleasantly found his hair. “I’m so fucked” stiles whispered against my lips.

I kissed him harder “Why?” “Because I’ve fully lost control now and I have no intention of trying to get it back” he told me pulling away for a second to look at me. “I don’t want you to get it back, this is what I want stiles” I whispered before pressing our lips together again. The boy pulled the top off that shouldn’t have been put on in the first place and then he lowered me to the ground kissing me again moving his tongue into my mouth.

“Stiles is y/n asleep i w…” scott pulled open the tent door. His eyes locked with mine before stiles’s seeing him over the top of me wearing no top. My face instantly turned red, stiles didn’t exactly get off me either because of my bra being on show.

Scott’s eyes flashed red.

———————————————————————

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[mahiiimahiiii]

the lick of bhaal

a/n: I would fuck orin!gale. That’s the premise of this one. I haven’t seen this concept done and I feel that there is much to explore! Slight dead dove on this one for those who may be sensitive.

Cw: inebriated sex, blood, breeding kink, fun use of shapeshifting abilities, my excuse to live vicariously through Orin, biting (lots of it), possessive language, not gale behavior, rough sex, dubcon, humping, frotting, tail play, anal play piv, orin has sex with a woman and is a bit confused, guilt, not really enthusiastic consent.

read below the cut, or on a03!

Orins lips buzzed with the taste of drink, sat in her lap- rather his- was a contently buzzed teifling, the poor wizards mate she presumed. Her hips wiggled occasionally when she shook with laughter. And oh ye gods! Did the pressure feel excellent. She cant remember a time previous when she was truly intimate with another fleshy being. The only passion for sanguinity she had was her affinity for a kill. His hands rested on the swell of the creatures thighs, a slight grip in pressure had her staring into her lovers eyes, something swirled in her mind.

Here? Her gaze asked.

“Here” she whispered in his voice. The Tiefling, li’ia, had a wonky smile on her face. She stroked her lower lip plush and plump. She captured hers in a chaste kiss, tasting the bubbly wine on her lips. Her heavy breaths graced Orin’s ears, a strange tightness in her chest and pants.

“Gale- fuck…I don’t know.” She pulled away “not like this…”

“Oh, but my dear- I know you’ve ached for it, yearned for it. How I’ve craved your skin. How I yearn. Let me taste you. Let me mark you, I don’t want anyone looking at you without seeing me.”

She let out a stifled groan in the short space of their lips. Unspoken egging coming from her stare. Oh how she will be ruined, oh how she will defile her.

Orin closed in, the unfamiliar feeling of clean skin pressed against her disguise beard, how she felt heat surge to her core when Li’ia gently tugged at his chin. She nipped at li’ia’s lip mindlessly, inwardly grumbling at the lack of sharpness from the humans’ blunt teeth. With his hands he anchored her into his lap, groping the warm flesh of her ass. She slid her cool hands down the others’ pants line, her skin was warm and spongy. Well taken care of she’d wager.

Lia groaned into her would-be-wizard’s mouth, throwing caution to the wind as she bumped her core against his low abdomen for some sort of friction.

“Warm my cock won’t you love?” gale hummed beneath her, “I would quite enjoy feeling your tightness.”

“I don’t think I’m necessarily ready for you like that.” She sputtered.

“Come now!” she slid the tips of her fingers against the others core, the heat and slick pooling off of them came in waves “I can feel how ready you are- your body doesn’t lie” his eyes darken with a hunger she’s never seen before. His lids lower as he removed his fingers from the entrance of her sticky cunt. Orin swiped her tongue over them, their taste fruity and sour with a tang of iron, how refreshing. How greedy she was for a taste of this infernal nymph; she licked her fingers clean a moan of ecstasy escaping gale lips. How guttural his set of vocal cords are.

He wriggled from underneath her and scooped her up, tromping back to stalemanes bedroom. With a kick she shut the door behind her, she dropped her on the bed, a flick of the wrist for a silencer and an arcane lock. The bed creaked underneath his popping knees, still dried browns, and maroons from the delicious stains of blood. He lifted the crest of her shirt, kissing down her stomach- nipping and nibbling at the sweet flesh. She sank her teeth into her warm skin, the tang of iron and a cry from her nightly lover. She knew of her sweetness, her reluctance. She was hers to take from.

A fist came to the wizard’s hair, it burned as she tugged gently at his scalp. Her whines and sobs fluttered to her ears. They sounded like sweet music. She lapped at the wound, placing small apologetic kisses to her sides, lips stained with her conquest.

“claim” the not very gale murmured, his tone taking a pinched staccato in focus, “mine.”

He hooked his thumbs into her pants, her hips squirmed slightly, but obliged in his pilgrimage arching gently for better access. Her breaths were hot and heavy, she rested gales head on the teiflings thigh, tracing circles onto her lower abdomen. She watched her chest rise and fall.

His breath felt like cooling velvet on her wet cunt, a whine clawed its way through her throat, nudging her hips up for the others attention. He smirked, not a warm one but a dangerous and hungry one. Gale grumbled again, staring slightly confused and hesitant. Li’ia tilted her head watching him cautiously. He tentatively licked her folds, pulling them apart with his tongue. His nose brushed against her clit, a low hum warming his mouth.

He angled himself so he could lazily grope at her chest, mouth kissing up her public mount to her clit. He latched onto the sensitive bud, sucking at it gently. Another hand for balance found its way to her core, stroking her labia lazily. She shivered at his blunt touch, shifting her hips up to prop a pillow under it to sit more comfortably. His digits prodded her sex, sliding in before bucking the pads of his fingers against a spongy mound. She inhaled sharply, ending in a warm moan. His fingers continued to pump and curl inside of her, the scuff of his beard brushing against her skin. Orin kissed the sides of her thighs, sucking at the skin under her mouth. Her skin was littered with imprints of her teeth and gorgeous flowering bruises. Li’ias grip became tight and steely, almost like the poor girls’ fingers took root in her skin, blunt nails scratching at her scalp. It made her dizzy.

Orin felt her knot break, the spasming of the woman’s hips beneath her the glazed over vision, to the silvery curls stuck to her forehead. Her orgasm was silent and ridged, toes cramped to a curled position heels dragging into the mattress.

“Roll over for me, my sweet.” She licked her fingers clean, helping the struggling teifling about. And finally, oh finally- she could drop the act.

She settled herself behind the static tail of the teifling, long brown hair fading and scattered with platinum blonde. She steadied her voice, clearing her throat to remain as gales.

“So pretty for me….” She hummed, his tones marking her words with affection, “look at you… “she quickly spanked her pretty ass, massaging the red into her cheeks. The sounds of smacks resonated on the hollow walls of the room. With each punctuated smack li’ia hissed and writhed under her. She felt tears dribble down her cheeks, from embarrassment, from pain? She really couldn’t Identify.

Orin ran the length of her cock against her ass, the heat from her member a soothing feeling to the bard’s aching cunt. Her tail curled around orins thigh lightly smacking the flesh of her ass, a grumble coming from her head in the pillow.

She chuckled, in tones gentler and more dulcet than she. “Easy pet, you’ll have me soon enough.” Orin angled her hips, gales skin being peachy, and pink, mottled with stretch marks, scars, and a sea of freckles. The tip of her tail prodded her entrance, she spat in her hand, rubbing the makeshift lube against her lover’s tail. It prodded and slid into her, wiggling gently inside of her. She exhaled relaxing herself at the fullness, re-settling her knees she rubbed the leftover spit in her hands against her hard member, siding her tip against her slick entrance.

With a quick flick of her hips she sheathed to the hilt, drawing a sharp gasp from the woman underneath her, followed by a delicious moan. She was warm as ever, walls fluttering quickly around her. Hand on her hip digging into her flesh, the other clutching at the headboard in front of her. Her ass made a hollow sound as she fucked against her tail, a delightful sting clenching around her. She lowered her hips biting at the tips of her ear, settling her legs into a hopping crouch position. The wizard’s knees she was using popped and screeched as she moved about.

Her hips arched up; her face planted into the cushion beneath her. Her toes curled into odd positions, whining as they locked up. The wet slaps echoed against the bloody bedroom. Her cock pulsed inside of the teifling, hitting the spongy tissue until it felt numb.

“Oh, ye gods- li’ia- “her voice came out higher than she wanted, the mimic of gale slowly faltering, “gods you are so sweet- bhaal below- “a moan rumbled through her chest. Orin folded over teeth, nestled into li’ia’s shoulder, platinum blond hair sticking to her forehead. She felt the bard squeeze down around her cock, her hand found her clit, pinching and squeezing it. A strangled moan came from her mouth, her walls clamped down around her.

“Are you cumming?”  the bhaalist hummed, her hips stuttering slightly, the other hand wrapping around to headlock her. Both of their knees slumped into the mattress, Orin’s knees pinning li’ias claves into the mattress.

Li’ias teeth sank into the pink skin of orins arm, decorated with freckles and hair to mimic the wizard. Drool and spittle ran down her lips as she tried to stifle the pathetic noises ushering themselves out of her mouth. She was quick to nod, quick to please.

“Good, good, good- “she repeated slightly breathless, “come for me my pretty dove, whisper my name like a prayer, worship me with your lips.”

Orin felt a slight loss at the whispers of gale on her lips, the dedication to her lover a man not worthy of her desire. A pathetic man at best. What did she see in him? Did she know she deserved better?

She had little to think about when the bard’s tail curled against a sweet spot. A flash of white struck her vision.  She went limp against her, li’ias hips sank into the bed. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ears and settled into the cleave of her ass, hands clamped around her thighs. She pressed her lips against her puffy folds, lapping at the mess she had made. Her lips held quick and contented sighs, tasting the mix of spent cum.

She withdrew, rubbing small circles into the melted bard’s back. She kissed her cheeks, pulling the covers over her fragile body.

Li’ia slept soundly, her breaths heavy. Her dreams filled with troubling messages.

She woke to an empty room a gift box tied with ribbons and the seal of bhaal sat at the edge of the murder scene. She inspected it, body pricking with goosebumps in the open air. The ribbons were satin, the seal a deep red and shiny wax. The box contained a note… and a ring. Shed recognize it anywhere, a matching set she had gotten for her lover, a twin set with magical effects to notify where the other partner was.

The note was simple, it read:

Dearest, Li’ia.

The steel watch foundry is a good place to start.

We shall cut the strings that work the tyrants’ puppets.

Thank you for indulging me in an evening of debauchery.

I can still taste your sweetness.

Orin the red.

Ps. Your wizard is such a sweet crier, I can see why a woman of your caliber likes him plenty. Her stomach churned, that was not gale.

[gilded-violets]

Some Simon Cooking Headcanons

Simon absolutely cooks the most dreadfully bland food for himself. Sees himself as a 'Dead Man Walking' so why would he fix up anything fancy or flavorful? Sees food as fuel. It's there to keep him alive and functioning at 100%, nothing else. Boils meat, steams/boils vegetables, probably eats it with some whole grain bread or makes some brown rice.. No seasoning. This man is truly in Hell. Soap made the mistake of letting him cook and Regretted It. Simon is banned from making anyone else food afterwards. Not to say he doesn't like tasty things.. Of course not! If someone made him something nice, man is in heaven. Food would honestly probably be a really good way of bonding with him and showing him you care. It's unobtrusive, there's no physical touch involved, it's so completely non-threatening.. He'd just have to nod and take his plate of food to his room to eat comfortably. Eventually if you kept doing it, he'd slink in and lean in the doorway and watch as you cooked. A little bit of friendly chatting while you worked. Skulks around outside the kitchen when he knows you're cooking so he can snatch a meal (even though he knows you always set aside a plate for him anyways) Has a soft spot for anything made from scratch, especially desserts. He grew up quite poor so his mum probably made most treats from scratch, usually for holidays. Since he usually has a pretty bland diet, any treats you bake him are just that much better. The last time he had a cookie was probably when his mum was still alive. Anytime you bake him cookies, he gets a melancholic look in his eyes for a moment.. Fair warning: Take your eyes off those cookies and they're gonna be gone!! Bake him a birthday cake and he'll pretend to be casually grateful but inside he's trying not to let a tear slip. Even if it's the most wonky cake ever made, his heart aches at the sight of it.

[euphoric-dramione]

January Dramione fanfic wrap-up *with links*

FULL-LENGTH:

Waifs and Strays by kyonomiko: very cute fluffy fic where draco is a cutiepie pine marten.

& Obey, Till Death Do Us Part by LongtimeLurker1111: his could’ve been a dark romance, but instead hermione decided to stay with “phin” theo and i just don’t understand it. the worst part wasn’t rapist draco bc he was the bad guy, it was rapist “phin” theo who was supposed to be good smut was nice at first.

Brand New World by NinaBinaBallerina: i loved loooved the beggining of this fic. then after they graduated and she found out she was pregnant i kinda lost the plot. i read until the point draco wanted her to move in with him while he was married to astoria and then i just skimmed until the epilogue.

In Silence And Submission by gillianeliza: this was a cool smutty bdsm fic, it had some nice things but i just think the writing was kinda wonky? nevertheless, very much enjoyed reading this.

The Fever by Flightglow32: this was supposed to be a smutty novelette but the smut happens in the very last chapter and only last five pages and we skim through the smut scenes like we’re a train on schedule and i just don’t understand why? especially because the fic was so sexual in its themes so why was the smut so lackluster??

Draconian by Noelle: It was like a really fluffy wartime with not-so big stakes, at first i thought how stragely whiny and crying hermione was all the time, but then we started to slowly find out what happened to her. I didn’t feel very much towards this story but it was entertaining and very readable.

Uncoffined by lady_of_clunn: it was nice, but due to the dubious ethics i’m quite conflicted of how i’m supposed to feel.

Damaged Goods by slytherin_after_dark: look, i know i had dnfed this when i had read only like one or two chapters, but lemme tell you how much i loed this fic when i picked it back up! it was all i needed - spicy, entertaining, angsty, with toxic but possessive and loving draco. although hermione felt ooc, it didn’t dim the reading experience.

The Politician's Wife by pir8fancier: this was so realistic, the romance was subtle but powerful, the little bit of smut we got was fantastic. also, it was incredibly well-written.

Seasons Pass (To This Ass) by mighbewriting: didn’t love it, but it was short, so i read it in one night. the smut was realistic as in how sex works but it wasn’t great smut if you know what i mean. loved draco’s quidditch player physique.

More Than One Way To Win by scullymurphy: i loooved the fake dating in this one, it was short but had all the scenes, i really liked it, although i wish there was more plot for after they got into an actual relationship.

Safe Home by khakis: cute kinda short kinda omegaverse story with draco as a werewolf but the werewolf part doesn’t play a huge part.

Breed by RoseDeVents: sooo muuuch breeeding.

The Curse of Malfoy Manor by alwaysaclaw11: a nice retelling of beauty and the beast, but it didn't leave a lasting impact on me.

Our Girl by geoblock: hands down the best smut i’ve ever read, and it's hermione x draco x theo x BLAISE

Innocent Monsters by itscometothis: very fluffy, but then draco gets depressed and a lot of attention is paid to his depression which i don’t mind, but it was a bit triggering. so not extremely fluffy, even though on of the tags was “tooth-rotting fluff”.

ONE-SHOTS:

Belladona by NinaBinaBallerina

(What’s a kink?) Between Friends by morriganmercy

Bond by spicyxpisces

Tell Me by GardenAtTwilight

Keep Me Safe by Skyfire2459

Perfect by CaityBell

Fourteen Days by its_banannaz

Marked as Mine by LilithShade

WORKS IN-PROGRESS:

Let The Dark In by senlinyu

The Sun, The Moon, The Truth by pinkinku

House Pet by NinaBinaBallerina

(all three of these are pretty dark and ansgty and VERY well written, i usually don't read wips)

[jasmyluv]

[23:56] - Dan Heng - the reader is said to have hair

It was almost midnight. You’re in your boyfriend’s room, sitting on his bed while he sits on a chair, reading a book he found in the lobby of the Astral Express.

You’re sleepy, your eyes trying its hardest to stay open. You don’t know why you wanted to stay awake. There was nothing special happening and you don’t seem to have any important tasks to be done.

So, what was the problem?

The man reading saw your tired, or otherwise, vulnerable state and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene. You almost missed the way his lips turned into a slight smile and the way the melody of his laugh is so soft that you felt like melting, right then and there. He looked so pretty laughing like that.

“[Name],” he called out, pulling you out of your daydream.

“Hm, huh? Yes, Dan Heng?” You ask, rather sleepily.

“Go to sleep. Stop forcing yourself to stay awake. Don’t wait up for me, I’ll be here for a few more hours,” he said. Oh. So that’s why you wanted to stay awake.

“Ah, but I want to,” you stubbornly retort.

“It’s obvious your body doesn’t want to,”

“But, I want to be with you when I sleep,” you shamelessly confess. It would be a lie to say Dan Heng didn’t blush so slightly at your casual confession. He didn’t get it. How could you, his partner for almost two years, still make him react like that? It was a mystery he has still yet to solve.

But until then, he might as well give in to your antics.

“How about this? I’ll be in bed with you while I read. How does that sound, [Name]?” He proposes his suggestion to which you happily nod and finally lie down on his somewhat comfortable bed.

A minute later, he’s in bed with you, your arms circled his waist, your face nuzzled in his body while he continues to read, one hand holding his book and the other, playing with your hair.

A/n: Hii :>> Eyshahahaha this was made at like 11 pm today so it’s pretty wonky. this fic serves as an apology for quite literally ghosting this blog but also my debut for hsr content ! just a drabble of my fav man from the game :))