#900 words

[eatmyass-x]

One afternoon while Wei Ying is preparing dinner, A-Yuan looks up from his toy trucks and asks, “Baba, how comes lots of people in my class have a mom, but I don’t?”

Wei Ying’s hands falter at the chopping board. “Every family is different,” he explains carefully. “One mom, two moms, one dad, two dads. There’s loads of options.”

“But who decides?”

“What do you mean, baobei?” Wei Ying asks.

A-Yuan looks at him like he’s being silly. “Who decides who gets one baba, or two babas, or ten babas?”

Wei Ying laughs. He’s relieved A-Yuan only seems curious and isn’t upset. “Well, grown ups usually decide if they want a husband or a wife. And then they have baby radishes together.” He gives A-Yuan’s nose a gentle poke, making the boy giggle. “But some people like me decide to do it alone.” His explanation is probably not the best, but A-Yuan’s questions have admittedly taken him by surprise.

“So grown ups can have a husband or a wife…” A-Yuan holds up two sticky fingers to demonstrate. “And Baba still doesn’t have anyone?”

“I—” Wei Ying is gobsmacked. He stares at A-Yuan with his mouth agape. A-Yuan looks at him expectantly, like he’s waiting to hear an explanation as to why his Baba is incapable of finding love. Wei Ying quickly turns away and starts plating out their food. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Aunty Yanli said—”

“Eat up, baby.” Wei Ying grins wide and feeds A-Yuan a mouthful of rice, effectively shutting him up. And that’s the end of that.

Or so he thinks.

The next morning on the school playground, A-Yuan escapes from Wei Ying’s hold the second he spots Lan Jingyi, running into his friend’s arms like they’ve been separated for years. They see each other every weekday, and sometimes on the weekends too.

Wei Ying laughs and spots Jingyi’s dad looking similarly amused. The sun is out today and Lan Zhan’s pretty eyes sparkle in the sunlight. He’s utterly breathtaking. Wei Ying's heartbeat still stutters every time they see each other, and they see each other almost every day. It’s humiliating, really.

“Good morning, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan greets, voice as rich and low as ever.

“Morning, Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying gives him a big, beaming grin. “How was your weekend without us?”

Lan Zhan doesn’t quite smile, but there’s laughter in his eyes. “Messy. Jingyi got into—”

“Mr Lan! Mr Lan!” A-Yuan runs back over and attaches himself to Lan Zhan’s leg like a limpet, creasing up his neatly ironed slacks.

“Yes, A-Yuan?” Lan Zhan’s hand instinctively goes to A-Yuan’s head, patting it like he does his own son’s.

“Baba needs a husband, Mr Lan,” A-Yuan says.

Wei Ying’s blood runs cold, his whole life flashing before his eyes. “A-Yuan, no—!” he splutters, trying to get the boy to stop.

But A-Yuan forges ahead without a care, voice filled with glee. “Can you marry my Baba please, Mr Lan? Then me and Jingyi can be real, actual brothers and be together forever! And then— And then we can all live happily ever after!”

“That’s enough, A-Yuan!” Wei Ying exclaims. His body feels like it’s on fire and he can hear the blood rushing in his ears. He crouches down to be at eye level with A-Yuan, despite the shakiness of his legs. “Remember what we said about thinking before we speak?”

“Ummm… that we should think before we speak?” A-Yuan blinks his innocent doe eyes up at him like he hasn’t just ruined Wei Ying’s life.

“Exactly,” Wei Ying sighs. But he doesn’t have it in him to get upset or annoyed with his son. “It’s time for you to head into class. Your teacher’s waiting for you.” He kisses A-Yuan on the forehead. “Bye bye, radish. Love you.”

“Bye bye, Baba! Love you too!” A-Yuan gives him a fat, slobbery kiss right back and then skips off to his classroom, hand in hand with Jingyi.

Wei Ying grits his teeth and slowly stands back up. Time to face the music. “I’m so sorry, Lan Zhan. I promise I didn’t put him up to it.” He doesn’t quite have the courage to meet Lan Zhan’s eyes. “He’s been asking questions about families and moms and dads and I don’t know, maybe I didn’t explain things properly. I’m so sorry, Lan Zhan.”

“No need to apologise,” Lan Zhan tells him.

“No, but there is!” Wei Ying insists. “Tell me how I can make it up to you?”

When there’s no response, Wei Ying braces himself and hesitantly looks up. Only to find that for some strange, inexplicable reason, Lan Zhan is smiling. “Let me take you out to dinner, Wei Ying.”

“What?!”

“A date,” Lan Zhan explains, like it isn’t clear enough already. “To make it up to me.”

“But Lan Zhan, I— You—” It seems that all Wei Ying is capable of today is sputtering and making a fool of himself.

Lan Zhan steps closer, still with that amused glint in his eyes, and gently brushes away a strand of hair that’s blown into Wei Ying’s face. “Don’t you want to live happily ever after, Wei Ying?” he asks.

Wei Ying feels like he’s died and gone straight to heaven.

[rockingrobin69]

Wildly

“I have this—dream,” Harry started, mouth so dry he had to stop, swallow a little helplessly. Draco’s grey eyes, expectant: “Never mind.”

“What? Come on, spit it out.”

“Nothing. It’s silly.”

A shove to his shoulder. “You’re silly. And it’s your turn, so, you have to tell me anyway.”

With a lopsided grin and his chest all fluttering, “You’ll laugh.”

“I never laugh. It’s one of the core Malfoy Values: no speaking while chewing, always pace instead of run, and under no circumstances, do not laugh.”

Harry rolled his eyes, feeling lightheaded with it. Draco’s feet tucked under his thigh, leaning against the arm of Harry’s sofa like he belongs there, like there’s no place else he could be. Happiness was a warm trickle running in his belly, this soft thing he was scared to move for fear of disturbing.

Still, breathed in, felt his chest go wide. Made himself open his mouth. “It’s—when we’re older. And we’ve been, erm, together, for a while. Your hair’s gone all white,” (“excuse you!”), “all silver, I mean, and we’re, y’know, old. And we have this garden.”

Braved a look up. Draco’s face was alight, something so tender it robbed Harry of words, of air. Taking his hand, overcome.

“A garden,” Draco said, not a whisper but something close. “That sounds lovely.”

“And we—let it grow wild. With trees and weeds and flowers. And every morning, if the weather’s nice, we go outside and have our tea there.”

Draco’s fingers squeezed his. “We could have a porch with a roof. So we’re not entirely weather-dependant.”

Not saying, there are charms to repel the rain, or, we live in Britain, for crying out loud. Serious, so seriously looking into Harry’s eyes, like he could see it too, like he wanted this.

“And—I don’t know. Maybe a bird feeder or a pond. And we sit very quietly in the mornings and wait for the animals, birds or frogs or squirrels or foxes. And we’re old, and, happy? That’s… it’s silly.”

“You’re silly,” Draco said again, shaking his head with his eyebrows arched and fond. “The silliest creature of all. Harry, this isn’t a dream. We’ll have all this.”

“How—” swallowing, swallowing, “how can you say that. We’ve only been… we’re so new at this. And life can, we know it can.”

Draco shook his head, brought Harry’s hand up for a kiss. “I know,” he said, “because I’ll do whatever it fucking takes, Potter, to give you exactly this. The garden and the birds and the foxes. The life you want, all of it, exactly it. Do you have any idea how rotten I’ll spoil you?”

“Stop—” shoulders up, trying to scramble away from his kisses, but the Draco-attack was relentless and dauntless and climbing all over him on the sofa, nibbling his cheek, the edge of his nose, his eyebrow, “Draco, ha, fuck, stop!”

“Never,” with a tone so certain and so deep Harry believed it immediately, started laughing, wiping his face. “Harry, I will never stop. Get that in your gorgeous little head right now: I will never, ever stop, and I’ll make sure that you’re happy, that you’re so happy, that you’re well and bloody delirious till the end of time, do you hear me?”

“Okay!” yelling, helpless, “okay, okay, I hear you. Now get off, you menace, you’re crushing me and it’s far too hot and.” Taking Draco’s face in his hands, steadying it through the blurriness. “You ridiculous creature,” with so much affection it was battering his insides, it was painful.

“I’m the ridiculous one,” Draco huffed. “You’re sitting here thinking I’ll let you go without a single dream you can name. Harry…”

“Okay,” laughing, still helpless. “I got it. You’ll take care of me.”

“Now he bloody gets it.”

His thumb traced Draco’s jawline, rested against his pink bottom lip. “You’ll give me my garden,” he said carefully.

“With the birdfeeder and the pond.”

“And the tea, and the porch.” And forever, Harry didn’t say.

And forever, Draco smiled. “All of it.”

“Fine. You… fine. I guess I’ll just have to take it and be happy.”

“Now, that sounds like a plan,” Draco smirked, leaning into his palm. “Can we kiss already, or are you still hell-bent on being a sap?”

“I’m the—you perfect, ridiculous creature,” crushing their faces together and shaking with it. “If I recall correctly, now it’s your turn, and I won’t let you try and skip it with slyness and trickery.”

“Trickery,” Draco’s eyes rolled, so close it was only the one grey blob.

Harry couldn’t breathe. “Shut up. Shut up and tell me. You think you’re the only one who… if you’ll make me happy I’ll make you bloody—ecstatic.”

“Always a competition with that man,” but he sighed, a soft thing, and leaned his forehead against Harry’s. “You want to know? You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Well.” Blinked, the movement a gentle tap on Harry’s cheeks. “I have this dream. When we’re older. And we have a garden, and we drink a lot of tea, and you’re so, so, so happy.”

“Come—here,” weakly, “with your fucking, ugh, just kiss me, please,” and Draco did, fire-wild, roasting hot and just as bright.

Harry didn’t know how to tell him he was, already. Happy. So he kissed him, and kissed him, and hoped it was enough.

(Flufftober day 7. Find the soft AO3 collection here).

[97ways]

10 Days To 1K Wilmon Mini Fics

“Have you seen my uni sweater? The gray one with the logo? I think I put it into the laundry a while ago, but I can’t find it.” Simon stilled, a little blush creeping into his cheeks. He couldn’t look at Wille when he answered. “Sorry, haven’t.” It wasn’t even a lie. Because when he pulled it out from under his pillow at night to rest his cheek on it, it was dark, right? Couldn’t call him a liar for that.

...

Read more on AO3

[patchworkcuddlebug]

The Prisoner

The doll steels its nerves. It was just a routine cleaning assignment. It is to enter the dungeon, dust the walls, sweep the floor, and leave.

Every second of hesitation felt improper. It was a good doll, and good dolls obey. But it's seen what's down there. It didn't want to feel like a bad doll again.

As the uneven stone steps took it deeper underground, the doll felt itself chill. It had no heart or blood to keep it warm, so it had no recourse to fight off the bite of the untended cold. It wished it had nerves to shiver, something to offer a reprieve, a reaction to its body, something that the winter months never left it wanting for. But it simply marched along, obedient and docile.

It's a simple structure. At the bottom of the descending cobblestone hall was a single door, wide enough for two people, with iron keeping it bolted in place. The wood is frayed and gnarled, saturated with untold humidity and rotted enough to almost give way to the view behind it. The iron was pristine, like new.

Still keeping it held close to its chest, the doll took a single hand off the handle of its broom, just enough to push the door open. It's still just as heavy, needing the full lean of the object's weight.

He comes into sight. The fae seems comfortable. He looks well fed, his clothes look freshly sewn, and his hygiene seems immaculate. He even has a smile, only on his face. His shackles seem like a mere suggestion, thin and loose-fitting, letting him move around the whole of the stone enclosure. As if he kept to the far wall by choice.

The doll wastes no time. It retrieves the feather duster from its belt, extending it to reach the upper corners of the cell. It brushes in swift, yet firm motions. The tickle on its nose as some of the dust is knocked loose makes it wish it could sneeze, especially with the miasma of must the seemed to haunt the stone surroundings.

"Can you tell me about stillness?"

The doll moves on to the next wall, struggling only for a moment to nestle the duster into the deepest crux of the corner wall. The stone way laid unevenly, as much as one could say a room spawned of ambient magic was laid, making it difficult to fully clean.

"I can hear your ticking. Please, don't be scared."

The fea bends its legs inward politely, letting the doll step around it to dust the wall behind it. Some of it lands on his clothes, breaking his already thin veneer of glamour. The dust bores holes in his tunic, showing the threads as frayed and ripped. His cheeks are already starting to sink.

"I'll let you breathe. You want that, right?"

The doll has made its way to the bed. It's a wooden slab, long enough to comfortably fit a doll, but too thin to support its weight. It's bolted to the wall on hinges, with diagonal chains to keep it from overextending. It's out of reach of the fae.

"Your old name. Soreness, the flu, getting drunk. Anything that one wants."

It begins to brush the dust off of the top, before holding it up with one hand to give the bottom and edges a quick dusting, those parts not having as much accumulation.

"I need to be still. Please. I can't take much more."

Now it can move on to the floors. It collects up the dust fallen from the walls and the dust that naturally accumulated on the floor in a single sweeping. That's one of the first things it learned after it became.

"I won't take it from that one. I just want to know how you do it."

The doll pulls a small garbage bag from its pocket, taking a moment to flick it open with air. It then detaches the dustpan from the base of the broom, bending over to sweep the dust into it.

"Please, just... talk to me. Please."

It takes a few tries to collect all the dust, but once it does, it ties the bag closed. It leans the broom against the wall, using its free hand to close the heavy door behind it.

It looks at the fae. He pulls his knees to his chest and buries his face, arms still kept in place against the wall. He tries to keep himself quiet, to seem fine, and fails.

The doll quickly looks away. It wants to call itself a bad doll for looking at him. But it can't think of a reason why. It hasn't been disobedient. It just feels restless. Like there's another chore that it's ignoring, something it should be doing.

The doll rests only for a moment at the top of the stairs. It tries to be still, only for a moment, appreciating the warmth trickling in through the windows and the freshness of the surface's air. It wishes it could exhale, or sweat, or curse. Anything to relieve this tension.

It doesn't stop long. It needs to tell Miss that her fae's glamour is weakening, and she needs to consider replacing him within the next few years.

[prettygoododds]

Day 9, 900 word, prompt - roommates

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66067207

One more day! Ahhhhhhhhh

[samlacy]

COOKIE

Miles and Gwen baking together, it goes miserable wrong.. but its cute!

remember : teens kissing ≠ sexual, so just bc Miles and Gwen kiss (or I would rather say a peck on the lips) DOESN'T MEAN IM SEXUALIZING THEM.

Miles and Gwen are in the same reality and aren't spider(wo)man or anything.

words : 0.9k

☆☆☆☆☆

Miles was in front of Gwen's apartment, not-so-ready to knock on her door. He was reading the "welcome!" carpet for the 6th time now. He felt nervous, which made his heart beat fast.

He tried motivating himself, which worked for a few seconds, enough to make him knock on the door. Suddenly he felt regret wash through him. He kicked the small rock on the side of the door, which oddly landed in the building.

The door opened a pair of eyes peaked through the crack. It was Gwen's, Miles knew them from anywhere, plus he had to for the thousand of sketches he did of her. They were blue and shined through his soul.

She opened the door fully after noticing it's miles. She waved at him and greeted him inside. Miles sent an awkward smile and took of his Jordan's, putting them on the small shelf they had for the shoes. He hang his jacket right over it.

Gwen bounced happily, sneaking herself behind miles to close his eyes with her hands. That of course took Miles off guard, but he played along with it.

"Where are you leading me?" Miles dared to speak as she slowly told him how to move and when to turn around a corner.

"It's a secret!" she giggled as she made Miles turn one more time. She told him to close his own eyes and not to peak.

When she was ready, she spoke up "Okay, you can open them now!"

Miles did so, and his mouth half opened. God she was so pretty. Gwen had a hello kitty themed apron on, it had two small pink ribbons on the front where her straps are. Miles saw the other Apron in her hands, it was Badtz-maru themed. Technically they were matching! It was totally adorable, plus he had black ribbons!!

Other than the fact Gwen was totally stunning, he saw the self made dough on the counter with some ingredients. At that point, he knew they were gonna bake something together.

"Do you like it?" Gwen asks with a small smile planted on her face.

"Oh, I love it!" Miles answers, hearts almost forming in his eyes as he looks at her when she claps from the answer.

"Great! I decided that we should bake this recipe I found in this book", she immediatly turned to the sweets recipe book, flipping over the pages as she finally spotted it and went up to show miles, when he was wrapping the apron around his waist.

"That sounds nice! Let's start then", he smiled as he followed Gwen's moves. She puts the book down as she takes a ball of the dough and flattens it with her hand.

Miles copied it, he took a piece of dough, rolled it and pressed on it. The ball was completely flat compared to Gwen's half flatten ball.

Gwen held back a laugh as she just made him re-do it. Miles was completely confused as he thought it was supposed to be like that.

After another try and another one. He finally got it! With a lot of proud he showed it to Gwen, which she smiled at.

Not expected, she grabbed the side of his faces and pecked him on the lips.

She parted away with a way wider smile now and saw how Miles eyes widened and his cheeks started heating up.

Miles took a little to register what just happend, till he grabbed her waist and kissed her this time, now making Gwen blush as hard as he did.

Out of slight frustration she hit him in the chest part lightly and started giggling. Miles studied her face structure, counting her freckles. The sun peaking out of the window directly hit her face, which made her glow even more.

"Okay, let's focus now!" she warns him as she goes to the cabinet to take an ovenplate out for the small cookies. She placed it on the counter, and started placing the formed doughs on it. Gwanda waited till Miles was also ready so they can start decorating them.

She had small edible objects, sprinkles, chocolate chips and some food colour. Miles was shocked when he saw a little puppy looking sprinkle, ready to use it on his dough. Gwen admired his happiness, clearly nothing could make her happier than seeing Miles smile.

Gwanda decorated 3 of her cookies. The first one was formed like a cat and had a bow on one ear, looking clearly like hello kitty! The second one was plain, just chocolate chip cookie with some sprinkles on it. But the third really seemed like it reminded her of miles. It was a silly cat with red stripes all over it.

"That looks so weird" Miles commented as he giggled at all the designs. As if his was any better!

"You have no right to talk, your cat looks like it got ran over five times", Gwanda uttered, but immediatly laughed out loud as she saw how Miles jaw dropped and his eyes looked at his cat, kinda giving Gwanda a point for that.

"It's not that bad", he mumbled, slightly pouting as he looked down on it. His cat's one ear was bigger than the other while the nose was misplaced. In total, it was a disaster.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say", she chuckled once again.

(Idk how to continue this, but I hope you enjoyed!!)

[samapollon]

Grief is a long road, and one we never truly stop traveling, but we do make friends along the way. In this short story, a woman brings her little brother to an exotic pet store after their parents die and meet some ferrets

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had already been driving when my little brother Nicky said, "I wanna go to Mike's Exotics." The sun had been out, our lunch pleasant. He had almost seemed to blurt it out, telling me, "Just to look," as an afterthought. As if he was trying to reassure me.

I couldn't deny him something like that though. It was hard to deny him anything really, so I made a left turn, taking the aux cord and tucking it into my seat when I saw him reaching for it. "You are not playing anime themes in my car for the fifth time this week." I was half joking, but I had to draw the line somewhere after all.

He played with the radio dial instead, trying to find the right song that wasn't really the right song, glaring at the radio when he really wanted to glare at me. His smallish hand didn't leave the dial until he found a metal track, sitting back as I kept driving.

The streets changed as I drove, from nice restaurants and clothing stores to pizza and burger joints, and finally to tattoo parlors and piercing shops. It was natural for Mike's Exotic to be in this area, what with what people thought of exotic pets. The key was to find the place. Sure, the sign was hard to miss, but I had never driven there from Luigi's before.

It had been my idea to go somewhere nice, to take our minds off of things. Not to mention that their shrimp and leek ravioli was fantastic. But it seemed I had failed in my mission, if the fact we were going to the pet store was any indication.

You see, Nicky only asked to go to Mike's when he was upset. Our father started the habit when Nicky was small and I was old enough to cheer myself up, taking him to see the funny ferrets and other critters to make him happy. Our mother thought that it was bad for Nicky, thought it would start an animal hoarding problem when he was older, but he never did ask for anything, and it cost nothing, so she never stopped it. Last year though, when our parents died, I had to take Nicky to the store after school every day. Eventually, he only asked to go about once a week, then, he didn't ask to go at all until today, the anniversary that it happened

It was as unavoidable as it was unexpected, the accident. A truck ran a red light, and the next thing I knew, the police called me at work, telling me I was an orphan now and would I please pick my brother up from school and take him in.

When I finally found Mike's and parked, Nicky didn't so much as jump out of the car as run out of it. He got into the store before I could even pull the key out of the ignition.

Walking in, I saw Mike was already showing Nicky a little chameleon. I could hear him tell Nicky, "Go ahead, stick your hand out, he'll climb right onto it." And I smiled as some light came into Nicky's eyes, seeing the chameleon change colors and investigate him.

Mike himself was an older man, balding, short, with a love for weirder animals, and had been in business for forty years. He probably wouldn't retire for a while though, and I asked him, "How you been feeling Mike?"

Mike smiled and told me, "I'm feeling pretty good, and I'm glad you're here actually, there's something I wanna talk to you about while Nicky's busy."

"Oh, what would that be?" Usually when I needed to speak to someone, I let Nicky listen in unless it was something he really shouldn't, and Mike knew that.

Mike then asked me, "Jolene, I know he's doing better, and that's great, but I could tell from the last time he was here, he's gonna be having a rough time for a while. I think Nicky needs something to really show him that nothing’s ever gonna be the same, but that it's gonna be ok."

"And what would that be?" I asked, my eyes drifting to that chameleon Nicky was still playing with. I didn't like where this was going, and told him, "Look, that thing's too delicate. It needs all sorts of humidity and habitat requirements, and I just can't do that."

Mike just laughed a little bit at that, telling me, "No, no! Not the chameleon. He's already been bought! He's just being held until I can put the enclosure into the customer's house. No, no, I'm talking about ferrets, Jolene. You know how much he loves those little guys."

I definitely had enough room for ferrets. I told him, "Well, if Nicky is allowed to play with these ferrets, he can definitely take them home. He could use something nice around the apartment after all."

In the end, Nicky went nuts for the ferrets, a pair from the same litter. It was the happiest I saw him all year as the little cat snakes sniffed him and licked his face. He practically screamed in joy when I told him he could keep them, telling me, "Thank you! Thank you! I'll take good care of them!"

While he was playing with the ferrets, I asked Mike, "How much for them?"

But he just shook his head and told me, "They're free. The breeder said they were a surprise litter anyways." But I knew that wasn't true, you didn't see beautiful cinnamon ferrets like that often. But I didn't say anything. Nicky and I just went home with the cage and plenty of ferret food. And I knew he would be alright.

[humanjarvis]

pilot diet

🚨: reference to medical fasting, somnophilia (previously consented), reader wakes up briefly, cunnilingus, tongue fucking for sustenance basically, ambiguous female orgasm but maybe squirting if you're into that

caleb was hungry.

per the fleet’s medical personnel, all airmen were required to go on a 12-hour water fast before their annual physical exam. and his was tomorrow. 

he thought he’d be fine. thought he could last a few extra hours on an empty stomach. but he was so hungry. 

which, somehow, had brought him to your room. fidgeting in your bedroom doorway, eyes glued to your sleeping form.

it’s fine, he thinks, digging his nails into his palm. the nurses didn’t say anything about this, right? a-and she said i could whenever i needed to. we both did. so it’s fi—

a soft rustling from your bed almost makes him jump out of his skin, but you’d only rolled over in your sleep. 

it’s fine. 

slowly, quietly, he inches toward you, his hesitant shuffle becoming a prowl the closer he gets. 

when he reaches the foot of the bed, the soft pressure of his evol pulls your covers back and gently floats you down to him, your legs dangling over the edge of the mattress.

he sighs with longing as he lifts your oversized shirt. normally, he’d take the time to truly appreciate you, licking you through your panties until he could taste you through the fabric.

but he couldn’t risk it tonight. he was desperate, and you had a busy day tomorrow, too.

carefully, he pulls your panties down, his senses flicking to life as if they’ve just discovered a prize. his mouth waters at the sight of you. the sweet notes of your body wash envelop him, mixing with your natural scent. 

moaning involuntarily, he dives forward, hesitating only to remind himself not to startle you out of your sleep. 

a moment later, his lips meet your slit in a gentle, reverent kiss, his nose poking slightly through to brush against your clit. sighing at the contact, he thrusts his pink tongue forward, flattening it against your folds to test your sensitivity. and when you don’t react, he parts your folds with gentle haste. 

his only goal tonight is you gushing around his tongue. right into his mouth, filling him with your flavor.

tenderly, he suckles your clit in an open-mouthed kiss before turning his attention to your glistening entrance. he licks over and around it before plunging his tongue into you, lifting your hips to sink as far as he can get. 

your arousal oozes around him, coating his lips as his eager tongue explores inside you. licking, thrusting, swishing side to side—trying everything he can to taste all of you.

when you abruptly clench around him, he ruts his hips against the firm edge of the mattress, too focused on you to pay his swollen, leaking cock any mind. 

he only pulls away to catch his breath and make sure he hasn't disturbed you. but when he nestles back in, he gathers your folds in his mouth and releases them with a loud pop—too ravenous to notice you stirring awake.

“mngh…caleb?” you moan groggily, reaching down to grip his soft strands. 

“shh, m’sorry,” he mumbles, mouth too full of you to speak clearly. “go back to sleep, baby. i’m sorry, go back to sleep. just need to taste you.”

humming in dazed acceptance, you flop your head back down, and caleb thinks you’ve followed his orders. 

but when you start grinding lazily against his face, forcing his tongue even deeper into you, he nearly stains his boxers white.

you are going back to bed, it seems. you’re just using his face as your sleep aid—and he’s happy to help. 

for a while, you keep using each other, your half-conscious form getting off on his nose and tongue while he licks up your pooling slick.

but eventually, your movements slow before stopping altogether, and your hand goes slack in his mussed-up hair. you'd fallen back asleep, pushing his face into your pretty pussy. like you’d known there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. 

your movements had sent you closer to the edge—he can tell from the twitches of your lonely clit, stiff and desperate for his touch. 

leaving your entrance with a sloppy kiss, he obliges. surging upwards, he lashes his tongue across the bud, flicking and suckling it until your legs unconsciously tighten around his head. so close. 

he can’t use his mouth anymore. it has to be open, waiting, ready to catch whatever you’ll give him.

so he replaces it with his fingers. bringing his hand up to your clit, he rubs eagerly, but the gentle pinch he gives it is your undoing. as he holds the bud between long fingers, your release gushes out of you and into his waiting mouth.

between greedy swallows, he whispers reverent thank-yous, lining your thighs with appreciative kisses. he’s not hungry anymore, but that doesn’t mean he won’t eat. 

once he’s gulped down your release, he sucks your slick folds and quivering hole for more, hell-bent on drinking everything you have. but when his tongue prods your entrance again, your legs instinctively clamp shut, and he knows he’s had his fill for the night. 

raising his head for the first time in ages, he licks his glistening lips in contentment, the pleasant buzz of satiety spreading through his brain. 

[spoonietimelordy]

I refuse to work in the train on Tuesday and Wednesday, so I'm having to finish my essay tomorrow. 2 days straight of writing and refusing to spend time with friends, yeaaaah *sarcasm*

[tree-of-life-and-death]

"The honored grandmother of Louheze shared her prophecies with me by spinning them in the petals of her lotuses."

This is the kind of fun fact which will make my best friend go nuts. He also wants me to work in the dragon/god that experiences time backwards but for now he has to deal with just the one, who is all powerful but only cares about lotuses.

[thefreakandthehair]

unplug it (please)

written for ‘plug’ | wc: 437 | rated: m | tags: hospital setting, post-canon fix-it, mutual pining, love confession, requited feelings, fluff, humor, confident steve harrington, eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington (and the machines he’s hooked up to blow his secret) @steddiemicrofic

When Eddie woke up a week after becoming demobat bait, he thought the worst was behind him.

He thought wrong.

It was easy enough early in his recovery to pass his rapid pulse off as a reaction to, well, everything, but that excuse didn't work anymore. At least not on Steve, who happens to be the reason for his humiliating problem.

Like clockwork, Steve entered Eddie’s room with a warm smile.

“Back already?” Eddie asked.

“Not getting rid of me that easy,” Steve teased and plopped down into the hard chair with nothing but a skinny blue cushion for comfort.

I could do better than that chair, he thought. I’d give Steve a great place to sit.

Bee-beep. Bee-bee-beep. Beep.

If he was able to bend down, he’d unplug the fucking machine. It’s embarrassing.

“Your heart’s still doing that? I told Laura!”

Laura’s the worst, but Eddie can’t jeopardize someone else's job just because he’s a coward. Maybe that’s why he said what he said next.

“It's because of you,” he muttered, realizing belatedly how that sounded when he saw Steve’s smile fall.

“Not like that! Fuck. Steve, I’m a weak man and you’re… you. You threatened to have your mom pull her funding from the hospital if they didn’t really try to save me. You carried me out of Mordor! How was I supposed to not fall in love with you after that? I hate that monitor, blowing all of my secrets.”

Eddie’s confession hung heavy in the silence, broken only by the erratic beeping of the monitor, as Steve sat forward with his elbows on his knees. He cleared his throat, and scratched the tip of his nose.

“Did I hear that right?”

“Yep.” Eddie could lie. He could walk it all back, but he didn’t want to be a runner anymore.

“Great, so do you wanna wait until you get out of here for a first date, or should I bring the first date to you?” Steve muses. “I think Laura might give me shit for trying to light a candle in here with the sprinklers.”

“Are you serious?”

“You think you’re the only weak man in this room? You bled through my jacket and I had to wash your blood off my shoulders.” Steve shrugged, one corner of lips just barely upturned. “I almost lost you. I’m not taking that chance again.”

“When you put it like that, I don’t wanna wait.”

“Good."

Eddie’s heart monitor skipped beats, racing as Steve leaned closer, his lips just barely touching his cheek in a soft, innocent kiss.

"Get ready to be wined and dined, Munson.”

[luffington]

meanie ♡

➤ summary: Zoro tests out a remote-controlled vibrator on you in the middle of town. (18+)

➤ pairing: roronoa zoro x afab!reader

➤ word count: 2.6k

➤ warnings: voyeurism, semi-public sex, established relationship, degradation, humiliation, fluff at the end, franky being franky, fem terms for reader

➤ notes: i've been thinking about this concept for MONTHS and i finally got around to writing it! might make a sequel featuring sanji.. who knows :3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

“What is it?” You asked after several moments of silence, studying the foreign object your boyfriend had placed in the palm of your hand. Bright blue, shaped like an oversized bullet with a slightly tapered tip, coated with soft silicone. It definitely wasn’t a weapon or a tool. Zoro’s matching remote didn’t provide any clues. 

“Something I asked Franky to make.” Zoro answered smugly but internally cringed at the memory. A few days ago, he had approached the cyborg with bright red cheeks and mumbled his request without making eye contact. Franky simply responded ‘suuuperrr!’, and Zoro was still trying to forget the fact that he already knew how to build it. “Wanna see how it works?”

The remote only had three dark blue buttons: up, down, and power. He pressed the latter and you flinched as the object suddenly sprung to life in your hand, vibrating softly but consistently. “It… vibrates? Okay, but what is it used fo–” It finally clicked in your brain. “Ohhh. Oh, Zoro.” 

He mirrored your knowing smirk with his own. “C’mon, let’s test it out.”

You could barely stand the next morning, wobbling along the deck even though the sea was calm. Nami gave you a suspicious look before announcing that the ship was about to stop at a nearby island for a supply refill. 

Zoro approached you from behind, his muscular body pressed against your back. Breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “Perfect chance to use it again.”

Your eyes widened. “You mean… on the island? In public?”

“What do you think the remote is for?” He frowned. “We talked about this, I thought you were into it. But if you don’t want to…” 

You shook your head — you definitely wanted to. This was a persisting fantasy of yours, something you’d never admitted to your past partners out of embarrassment. But you trusted Zoro more than anyone. However, touching yourself while imagining the thrill of being caught was very different from the impending reality which made your stomach flutter with anxiety. 

“It’s either in town or on the Sunny. Would you rather maybe get caught by strangers or definitely get caught by our friends?” Zoro added with an annoyed expression, “Knowing my luck, that shitty cook would be the first to notice.”

Okay, he had a point. Not just Sanji – getting caught by any of your crewmates would be incredibly awkward. At least you would never see anyone in town again.

So you let Zoro lead you to the men’s quarters, climbing onto his bed as he grabbed the vibrator from his locker. Laughing as he playfully pushed you flat on your back, slotting himself between your legs and easily pulling down your skirt and undies. He ran two fingers up and down your slit before rubbing your clit in small circles. You bit back a moan – this was gonna be a long day. When you were wet enough, Zoro pushed the vibe snugly inside your pussy.

You expected him to keep going and turn it on, maybe let you cum if he was in an especially good mood. But he hopped off the bed, adjusting his rumpled shirt and leaving you to fix your own clothes. “Let’s get going. I need a fucking drink.”

The two of you had been walking around town for nearly a half hour and Zoro hadn’t touched the remote. You passed a bar fifteen minutes ago and he kept walking – he was stalling. Parading you in front of dozens of new faces and leaving you constantly anticipating the vibrations to start. It didn’t help that he kept his hand and the remote in the same pocket of his pants.

A flashy weapons shop caught his eye. He claimed he needed new materials for taking care of his swords, but you didn’t think there was anything wrong with what he had on the ship. You practically clung to him nervously as he wandered around the shop. He occasionally stopped to study items, seeming a little too interested in a sword that was comically worse than his current ones. 

As he picked it up for a closer look, the toy sprung to life inside of your pussy, causing you to squeal in shock. Vibrations sent shivers up your spine, and you felt a fire ignite in your core just as embarrassment burned in your mind. Zoro turned the power up two levels and snickered when you grabbed onto his shirt sleeve to steady yourself. “Careful, babe, there’s a lot of sharp edges around.”

“I know that.” You pressed your forehead against his shoulder and shut your eyes tightly. Unable to do anything besides rub your thighs together. The vibrations weren’t nearly strong enough to make you cum, but they were impossible to ignore. 

“The shopkeeper’s looking at you.” Your boyfriend whispered in a sultry tone. “Bet he wishes you were clinging to him instead. He definitely knows how easy you are. How easy it is to get your slutty cunt soaking wet. You just need a pair of eyes on you, huh?”

“You’re so mean,” you pouted, clenching onto his arm even tighter. Zoro turned up the toy another level and you bit back a moan. You hesitantly turned to look at the shopkeeper, a balding man with beady eyes. He seemed skeptical, not entirely sure what was going on, but his lecherous gaze still moved up and down your body as if he were appraising you. 

“Stop staring at my girlfriend, you goddamn creep.” Zoro suddenly growled and grabbed your hand, quickly moving to the exit as you stumbled behind him. The shopkeeper flushed red and opened his mouth to respond, but Zoro cut him off. “All of your swords are fucking awful.” 

You giggled as the door slammed behind you. “Zoro, if you’re gonna get jealous, why are we doing this?”

“I’m not jealous. I’m showing off what’s mine.” He was right – ‘jealous’ wasn’t the best word to describe him, since you made it clear that he had no competition. ‘Possessive’ was more accurate. He’d been like that since the start of your relationship. Always asking who your pussy belonged to, marking you with bruises and hickies, making you scream his name over and over as he pounded his cock into you. 

Thankfully, you had grown used to the light vibrations after a few minutes – Zoro was kind enough to turn the power level down, but didn’t shut it off. The two of you entered the bar you’d passed earlier, a dark and dingy place with about a dozen people inside.

“Hey!” Luffy’s obscenely loud voice rang throughout the building. He waved you over to where he was sitting, the large table already covered in empty dishes. Your eyes widened and you subtly shook your head at Zoro. The swordsman ignored you and strolled over to the bar counter to order two glasses of sake, leaving you no choice but to sit across from your captain. 

Your boyfriend placed a glass in front of you and moved his chair incredibly close to yours, resting his hand on your bare upper thigh. You shifted in your seat — big mistake. The toy was now pressed against the most sensitive spot inside you. 

“What’ve you guys been doing? Zoro, I thought you’d come straight here,” Luffy asked around a mouthful of food.

Zoro mentioned the shops you stopped by, casually turning the vibrator much higher mid-sentence. You clamped a hand over your mouth just in time to muffle your lewd moan, bending over in surprise as the toy insistently massaged your walls. It simultaneously felt heavenly and sadistic – the unrelenting pressure on your g-spot and Zoro’s big hand tightening on your thigh, clearly satisfied by your response. 

Luffy seemed confused, but Zoro told him that sake doesn’t always sit right with your stomach. Yeah, sure, your glazed over eyes and squirming legs could definitely pass as a stomach ache. Maybe to your oblivious captain, but certainly not to the people around you.

Your boyfriend’s hand moved farther up your leg, sneaking under your skirt to thumb at the waistband of your panties and rub the sensitive skin underneath. The toy got even stronger, probably on its highest setting at this point. Zoro continued his conversation with Luffy without stumbling once, barely glancing at you when you spilled your second round of sake all over your white shirt. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Luffy frowned, leaning across the table to study you closely. You prayed he wouldn’t look down and notice Zoro’s half-hidden hand. “Maybe you should talk to Chopper.”

“No! No Chopper!” You immediately exclaimed, making Zoro chuckle quietly. “I… I mean I’m fine, I’m not sick.”

Your captain hummed in thought, but in typical Luffy fashion, shrugged and said, “Well, whatever.”

Zoro finally turned to look at you with a sly grin. “Why don’t we go to the bathroom to wash off that stain?” You instantly nodded in agreement.

The swordsman shoved you against the wall of a men’s bathroom stall and crashed his lips against yours, devouring your mouth like an animal. One hand held your wrists together above your head and kept you in place as the other trailed across your chest, stopping to squeeze your tits. He delighted in your barely restrained moans and breathy whimpers of his name.

“You have no idea how fucking sexy that was,” he panted against your lips. “You’re so bad at hiding how much of a dirty whore you are for attention. All you need is your cute cunt touched and you’re gone. You probably have no idea where we are right now. The only thing your slutty brain can think about is my cock, right?”

“Yes, fuck, Zoro, I need you so badly.” With a satisfied smirk, he hiked up your skirt and pulled your panties down to your mid-thighs. Unceremoniously pushing two fingers inside your hole to retrieve the vibrator. You were so lucky that the bathroom was empty – the noise you made was unholy. 

“Your panties are fucking soaked,” he snickered, admiring the obvious wet spot on the fabric. But Zoro didn’t turn the toy off, simply turned down the vibrations then reached under your shirt and pressed it against your nipple. You cried out again as he adjusted its position so your bra would keep it firmly in place.

Zoro flipped you around so you were facing the wall. He was right – you were much too cockdrunk (and slightly tipsy on real alcohol) to care about how unhygienic a bar bathroom was. You unconsciously wiggled your hips when you heard the sound of his zipper and felt his hard cock rest on top of your ass. He grabbed your wrists again to keep them firmly pinned behind your back. 

“Don’t even need to prep you, I can just slide right in,” the swordsman chuckled. He rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit teasingly, then shoved his entire length inside you in one rough thrust. You let out a pleased moan, glad that you were finally getting the orgasm you’d been anticipating for at least an hour. Zoro rested his head in the crook of your neck. “You’re so damn loud. We’re still in public, y’know.”

“So shut me up.” You pressed your lips against his again, tongues swirling around each other in a messy dance as he continued to fuck you hard. His cock hit all the right places inside you, the ridges and veins and warmth giving you a more human sense of satisfaction than the electronic toy ever could. It still buzzed away against your nipple, which was almost painfully stiff at that point. Zoro panted heavily against your mouth – riling you up inevitably got him riled up, and he was just as close to hitting his peak as you were.

The bathroom door opened.

Both of you froze. Your entire body went as stiff as a mannequin, too afraid to even breathe. Zoro narrowed his good eye and listened closely to every single footstep, door creak and ruffle of clothes. There were three bathroom stalls, and the stranger was courteous enough to use the one farthest from you, leaving an empty one in between. Once he was sure that the person wasn’t a Straw Hat, Zoro’s hand moved from gripping your ass to cupping your face, silently pushing two fingers between your lips. You gagged around them anxiously.

“Now we really gotta be quiet,” the swordsman whispered directly in your ear. You didn’t have time to question what he meant before he slowly moved his hips back, his dick pulling out of you inch by inch until only the tip was inside of you. He pushed back in just as carefully, the quietest smack of skin as his hips met your ass echoing in your racing mind. The stranger heard it, you knew he heard it. Zoro shifted again and you shook your head in protest, but he just pushed his fingers farther down your throat and continued to fuck you. 

The sound of a toilet flushing made you jump. Zoro’s hips moved in slow circles and grinded his cock against your walls, deep and deliberate. You heard the stranger unlock his stall and turn on the sink outside. If he glanced in the mirror, he would definitely see two pairs of feet pressed together underneath your stall. Your pussy clenched at the thought, causing Zoro to grunt quietly.

As soon as the bathroom door swung closed, Zoro pulled his spit-soaked fingers from your mouth and you gasped for air. “Good little slut listened to me for once,” he chuckled and resumed his previous brutal pace, thick cock filling your cunt so perfectly and prodding at your cervix. 

“Fuck, I’m so close…” You whined, feeling drool drip down your chin.

Zoro promptly reached underneath you to massage your clit. “I’m right there, too, baby. Cum for me.” His words – his permission – brought you over the edge. You saw stars and really tried your best to not let the entire bar hear you. Moments later, thick spurts of cum coated your insides, Zoro biting down on your shoulder to muffle his own satisfied groan. 

You stayed pressed together as you both caught your breath, his cock still snugly inside you. “Zoro, the vibrator–” He had clearly forgotten about it, but there was no way you could ignore the incessant buzzing against your practically numb nipple. He instantly fumbled to grab the remote from his pocket, finally shutting the toy off.

“My fault,” he mumbled apologetically. Letting out a content sigh and wrapping his arms around your waist. “I know I’m an asshole, but, uh, thank you. For being so good to me.”

“You’re not an asshole,” you frowned, gently rubbing the top of his head. “I’m the one who asked for this. I like it when you’re a meanie, and I like that you like it, too.”

He grinned and nuzzled into your touch, prompting you to pull him even closer. “Is there a difference between an asshole and a meanie?”

“Of course. I would never date an asshole. Just a guy who fucks me exactly how I want it.” You giggled to yourself. “We’re going to a clothing store before we leave, by the way. You owe me a new shirt.”

When you exited the bathroom, cheeks still slightly flushed and dry sweat on your temple, Franky had stolen your chair at the table, sitting across from Luffy and chugging a bottle of cola. He spotted you two and immediately gave you a big thumbs up, shouting “Yow!”. Both of you blushed furiously — so much for avoiding getting caught by your crew. Perverts recognized perverts, you supposed. 

[rockingrobin69]

ruffians, and so on

“Oh,” Harry said, again, and then, “oh. It’s a—”

Tiny, fluffy thing in Malfoy’s arms. It hissed when Harry came closer to inspect, and Malfoy grinned like it was the cleverest creature in the world. He muttered a sorry that he evidently didn’t mean, stuffing his smiling face into the fluffy bundle.

“She’s quite possessive,” his voice came out muffled. Harry didn’t growl, but it was a near thing.

“Yeah? Well,” swallowing the silly rant about being possessive and teach it a thing or two, about how Malfoy was his first and only then this little—little—kitten’s. “She’s a cat,” he spat eventually.

“Very astute,” Malfoy laughed, that crackly sound that still made Harry’s chest go all, all, fizzy and warm like bad lemonade. “I can see why you never became an Auror after all.”

“Hmm?” already lost his concentration. The white little thing was climbing up Malfoy’s chest, wrapping itself around his neck and Harry, er, wanted, erm, far better control than what he currently—that was his spot, and she had to go. “She has to go,” he said, stupidly.

“What?”

Harry blinked. “I mean,” but he had no idea what he meant. “Shouldn’t you take her to a, dunno, vet or something?”

“Darling,” still laughing, but he sent a hand out for Harry to grab, only a little hysterically. “Come here.”

As if he were pulled by a spell, a string, already breathless and taking in tiny little pants of Malfoy’s appley scent. Malfoy brought Harry’s hand to his lips, gave it a kiss. Then, with a mischievous eyebrow, lowered it to the lump of fur clinging to him.

“See? She’s entirely sweet,” as Harry’s hand trembled, still too scared to—“Go on. It’s fine.”

With only half a growl, Harry nodded, closed his eyes. The little kitten was… soft, and strangely warm. Like this, Malfoy was very close too, and Harry could put his head on his shoulder and—oh, there she was again. Nose to nose, she really was quite… sweet.

“Hello,” Harry whispered. The kitten gave him a green-eyed stare.

“What do you think we should call her?” Malfoy’s voice was so gentle.

“I—I don’t know.” Felt like a big responsibility, and also too soft, and Harry pulled himself back up and tried for a step back, only to be taken by the hips. One of Malfoy’s hands found the back of his head.

His eyes were grey as always, and just as fond. “It’s all right,” he said. “I know you’re not exactly mister creativity here. As far as I can recall, you never even named your broom.”

“Didn’t know you were meant to,” Harry grumbled. “Besides, I don’t think Icarus was such a good name.”

“I was being ironic,” Malfoy rolled his eyes, pouted a bit in the way that always made Harry kiss him.

“Well, you’re not naming the cat.” Sticking his tongue out, only a little melted.

“Because I’m sure you’ll find something very original.”

“Hey, Hedwig was a good name!”

“I was referring,” Malfoy tilted his head the tiniest bit closer, “to a certain teenage organisation you led. Never mind. If you want to name the cat, I’ll entrust this very important mission to you. Provided I receive my fair payment.”

Grinning, helpless, “Yeah? What’s that, exactly?”

“I believe a kiss is in order?”

Oh, Harry’s been dying for one for far too long to object. Leaning in that infinitesimal amount of space separating them, taking that deep, sweet breath, his lips already touching Malfoy’s when—

“OW!” Malfoy tore back, eyes huge and incredulous. “What in Merlin’s fuck, little cat? Why the claws?”

His frustration allowed Harry’s belly to calm, allowed him to actually laugh. “You said it yourself,” with a cheeky pinch of Malfoy’s nose. “She’s a possessive little bugger.”

“Very poor form,” Malfoy wasn’t paying attention to him, eyes only for the kitten now, and his voice infuriatingly gentling. Harry, with a huff, found himself still smiling.

“I guess I can understand. I wouldn’t let anyone else kiss you if I were hanging on your neck.”

“Yes, my point exactly. I’d expect such crass behaviour from him, but we are Malfoys, young lady! I’d appreciate it if you showed proper decorum to the high standard expected of you.” With a blink, looking at the ball of fluff currently yawning in his hands, “Or—well, or not. I suppose you can do as you wish, damn you.” Looking up at Harry: “Potter, I think I might spoil our cat rotten.”

Harry wasn’t jealous. “Yeah,” he managed, stiffly, “yeah, I reckon you will.”

“Don’t give me that look. As though I don’t have every intention of spoiling you rotten too.”

“Oh,” Harry said. His mouth was twitching.

“Oh,” Malfoy mocked, “oh, he says, like I hadn’t made it perfectly clear. Truly, I am surrounded by a troop of ridiculous ruffians and—yes, you included, little cat. Don’t think I forgot. And just because you have the most adorable little beans does not mean—what’s the point. It absolutely does mean it.” Turning back to Harry, “Well? Are you coming?”

“Hmm? Coming where?”

“To get dinner? Harry? You did hear me, right? You weren’t just staring at the cat the whole time.”

Flushing, “Of course not.”

“Right,” Malfoy’s eyebrow quirked.

“Right.”

The cat made a tiny sound, not a meow. It’ll get the hang of it soon.

(For flufftober day 28. Find the soft AO3 collection here).

[almostempty]

does anyone have a fic rec for like a friends-to-lovers or maybe roommates where there's a scene with a classic movie night date that's totally not a date because they haven't admitted any feelings to each other?

I'm talking about starting on opposite ends of the couch, but then you make popcorn or something so you scoot closer just to share more easily... then oops, your thighs are pressing against each other, but you don't pull back. Maybe you reach across him to put your drink on the side table and—holy shit—he smells so good and you're so close together. He pulls a soft blanket over you and murmurs an all too husky ‘c’mere,’ and neither of you acknowledge the way the room is fucking buzzing—you just nestle under his arm and rest your cheek on his chest.

And thank god it's a movie you've both already seen, because all you can focus on is his heartbeat and yours, both pounding so loud he must hear it too, right?

And suddenly you realize when you settled in all cozy-like, your hand is resting so close to his lap, your fingers with a mind of their own can't help tracing the hem of his worn t-shirt. And the heat of his skin feels so overwhelmingly sexy in this moment you've definitely forgotten to breathe (him too, but you don't even notice), and so you try to let out a natural breath and his wide palm resting on your waist gives the most imperceptible squeeze of encouragement...

So you keep tracing, delicately across smooth warm skin. You run the pad of your fingers over the dark happy trail you've only ever caught glimpses of before. Just brushing over the hair and now following the waistband of his boxers with the edge of your pinky sends a current jolting through you like a livewire. Your cunt clenches and you wonder if he can somehow feel your clit twitching when he gives your side a more firm squeeze.

You hold back the soft moan in your throat and focus on breathing and not thinking about what any of this means.

He shifts his hips, just subtle enough to pass as readjusting, but it causes the tip of your little finger to breach the elastic waistband—just barely—and you steady your hand... still now just resting along his soft lower stomach.

Some plot twist in the movie causes the score to sharpen, just as your senses feel alight. He must be able to read your hesitation. His hand glides slowly, deliberately along your curves until he's tenderly grabbing a handful of asscheek—it makes your breath catch and your spine arch a little—instinctively.

"Keep going." His words roll down your spine like hot, thick molasses.

You're so torn between wanting to turn and look at him, wondering if his face looks as fucked out as yours feels right now... but you can't. Like it might break this spell and you don't want to stop now, you don't want to know what this changes. You want to plunge your hand the rest of the way beneath that bloody elastic band or toss the blanket off—but you can't do that either.

Instead, you pop the button on his jeans and slide down the zipper. You can feel the tension in the fabric ease. The heat under that blanket, under your hand, rising from between his legs would be unbearable in other circumstances—but you'd happily suffocate in it right now. The anticipation has his heart in his throat and yours in your cunt.

But, like the tease you are, you still can't go right for what you want... you draw your hand from his knee, up his inner thigh, savoring the way you can feel his chest heave and freeze under your cheek, before massaging at the crease of his thigh before finally palming his throbbing, stiff cock.

"oh, shit," you exhale. He's so thick, so hard.

He's finally remembered how to move, and he kneads your ass steadily, nonchalantly letting his fingers inch closer to your clothed pussy as he gropes and tugs at your plush body. You map from his balls to his tip, gently stroking your palm over the thin fabric of his underwear. Your thumb catches the wet patch of fabric near his tip—that sends a wave of heat rolling through your veins and slick arousal pooling between your pussy lips.

Knowing he's so turned on right now that his dick is a drooling mess for you looses a low hum in your throat; you aren’t sure if the sound is only in your head. You roll your body, aimlessly starved for more sensation as you press against the firm line of his body and push your ass back into his hand.

Finally at a fever pitch, he lifts his hips, helping you pull his jeans and boxers down, and you push the blanket off your laps. You aren’t sure what makes you gasp louder—the sight of his pretty cock, gently bobbing, heavy and flushed—or, his hand finally dipping to cup your pussy from behind, fingertips rubbing a slow circle that has your panties drenched and clinging to your swollen flesh.

The wet fabric makes a squelching sound and his dick jumps—a connected call and response. Your nipples strain under your shirt, and you’re already in too deep to care, emboldened by seeing another bead of precome form at his slit. You push up, sitting on your knees, pulling your shirt off before you look into his eyes—and when you finally take in his face, his eyes are so dark, half-lidded with the weight of the lust… or like.. idk something like that, just some extra horny but extra slow, just need that stupid moment of teasing along their waistband idk. maybe with frankie, or like pre-canon clint omg, no joel he’s on timeout rn still. idc if it’s like chapters into a slowburn, i need just the first time, it’s happening energy ughhhhhh  it’s possessing me

[pumpkabitch]

Would people be interested in reading a Merthur fic where after Arthur dies he wakes up on the day he first met Merlin and remembered everything?

[v6quewrlds]

sub!joe PLEASE OMG

SUB!JOE 🗣️🗣️🗣️

You sat cross-legged in your plush bed, the crisp white pages of your book fluttering as the soft hums of a song escaped your lips. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting warm shadows across the walls. You had been waiting patiently in anticipation of your nightly ritual of cuddles and quiet whispers before sleep claimed you both.

You heard the door to Joe's office creak open, and then he stumbled into your bedroom, his six-foot-four frame slightly hunched from the weight of the day's activities. He shuffled over to the bed, his dirty blonde hair sticking up at odd angles from where he'd run his hands through it in frustration.

You put down your book and patted the empty space beside you. "You look exhausted," you said with a gentle smile. You watched as Joe climbed into the bed, his muscular body sinking into the mattress with a contented sigh. His breath was warm against your skin and his hand found its way to your waist. You wrapped your arms around him, feeling the tension in his muscles slowly unravel as you began to stroke his hair.

"Long day?" you inquired, your voice soft and soothing.

"Yeah, just going over some game footage," Joe murmured, his eyes drifting shut. "Couldn't get my head around a few plays."

You kissed the top of his head. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Joe took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling against you. "Nah, I just need to clear my mind." He paused, his hand moving to the crotch of his sweatpants, adjusting himself with a wince. "But, I'm also... you know."

You knew that look, the way his eyes searched for yours in the semi-darkness, the way his cheeks flushed slightly under your gaze. "Oh?" you said, your voice filled with playful curiosity.

"Yeah," he mumbled, his voice slightly embarrassed. "It's just... I can't sleep like this."

You leaned back, placed your book on the bedside table, and switched off the lamp. The room was plunged into darkness, but the moon's soft glow filtered through the blinds, casting a silver ribbon across the floor. "Do you want me to take care of it?" you asked, your voice a soft hum.

He nodded eagerly, his eyes closing in anticipation. You reached for the drawer next to the bed. Inside, you found the small bottle of lube you two kept for such occasions. You popped the cap and coated your palm, pressing your palms together, warming the lube.

"Pull your pants down, baby, let me make you comfortable," you whispered. Joe's breath hitched as he complied, rolling onto his back before his sweatpants slid down to expose his hard cock, standing pink and proud against his stomach.

Your hands were gentle but firm as you wrapped them around him to spread the lube. His eyes remained closed as you began to work him with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Your fingers danced along the shaft, teasing the sensitive skin with just the right amount of pressure.

"Is this okay?" you asked, your voice a low murmur that fell on Joe's tired ears.

"Mmhmm," Joe mumbled, his eyes still shut tight as he succumbed to the sensation of your warm hands.

"Just relax, let me take care of you," you whispered into Joe's ear, your breath hot and sweet. You leaned down and kissed his cheek. Joe's eyes fluttered open to meet yours, and you could see the exhaustion in them, the need for release. He nodded, his head rolling back onto your shoulder as he allowed his body to go limp, giving you full control.

"You're doing so good, baby," you cooed, your voice a gentle wind against his ear. "Just let go, I got you."

"Oh, baby, more, please," Joe moaned, his voice a whiny rasp against the silence of the room.

Your heart raced in time with Joe's hips. You felt his body coil tightly, his muscles straining against your touch. He was so close, so deliciously close. His hips began to falter, his moans began to strangle as they attempted to escape his throat. He opened his baby blues to watch your hand work his cock, his eyes glazing over with the pleasure you brought him.

"Gonna—fuck—baby, ‘m gonna come," Joe whimpered, his voice shaking with desperation. You watched the play of emotions across his face: the tightening of his jaw, the flutter of his eyelashes, the way his mouth formed silent words of ecstasy.

"There you go, baby, come for me," you encouraged. You picked up the pace, your hand moving in a blur as you brought him closer and closer to the crest of release. "Let it out. You earned it."

With a thin moan, Joe's body spasmed, and warmth flooded your hand. He bucked his hips upward, his cock jerking in your grasp as he reached his climax. You stroked him through it, your grip firm but gentle, your thumb circling the sensitive spot beneath the head of his cock. His eyes squeezed shut, and he let out a long, shuddering sigh as he came down from the peak.

You took a moment to appreciate the sight of him, spent and satisfied against you. His chest heaved with each deep breath, the moonlight casting a silver glow across his pale skin. You leaned over to kiss him, your lips lingering on his in a soft, tender press. "Good boy," you whispered. His eyes fluttered open to meet yours, a lazy smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His entire body blushed a flustered pink.