#Fortifying Cream

[utoshi-san]

Покупки с Тему и Тиджей макс!

Масло и бальзамы для губ понравились, очень нежные и мягкие, отлично увлажняют и упаковки мне понравились 💗

Набор мини кремов для рук спорный. Питают они не плохо, но запахи странные, резкие, не очень приятные. Типа крем для р��к с календулой это что вообще?

Далее у меня тут пудра и соль для ванны, всё очень понравилось (соль была с сушенной апельсиновой цедрой).

Масло для роста волос с натуральным составом и запахом мяты, оно работает, хотя когда втираешь его в кожу головы то оно неприятно холодит.

Охлаждающий ролик для глаз офигенская штука, уже второй раз беру. Очень хорошо расслабляет глаза и снимает следы усталости.

Сыворотка для лица средняя, скраб тоже не понравился. Маски все израсходовала, почти все не плохие.

[harukowitch]

Homestyle Vanilla Ice cream and Cheerios Oat Crunch Cinnamon™ goes surprisingly so well. The Cheerios have have such a nice crunch like waffle cone but with cinnamon.

[cannalle]

Fortifying Body Cream Infused With 400mg Full Spectrum

Discover the transformative power of our CBD-infused Fortifying Body Cream. Experience deep hydration for radiant skin, fortified by antioxidant protection against daily pollutants. Indulge in a calming sensation as CBD soothes away tension, promoting unparalleled relaxation.

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[omg-erika]

The Protein Rip-off

by Dr.Harald Wiesendanger– Klartext What the mainstream media is hidingConsumer advocates criticize the latest scam by food companies: special “high-protein” products as a brazen rip-off. They are as unnecessary as they are overpriced. Protein pudding, protein cream cheese, protein muesli, protein bread: foods marketed as particularly high in protein have become box office hits in supermarkets.…

[sugugasm]

“NERDS DO IT BETTER.” | satoru gojo

⟡ tags : nerd! satoru + popular! yn, gojo loses his virginity at the hot cheerleader’s house party - content includes : reader uses she/her pronouns, fem! reader, riding, fingering, inexperienced! gojo, pet names, etc. also shout out 2 my fav @ramonathinks m’ so proud of this piece bae i hope you luv it jus as much as i do !!! MDNI 19+ 3.7K WC

satoru adjusted his glasses nervously as he and geto approached the sprawling mansion, music and laughter spilling out into the warm night air. “i don’t know about this, man,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. “parties aren’t really my scene.”

geto rolled his eyes. “come on, live a little! when was the last time you got out and socialized? besides, you-know-who will be here . .” he elbowed gojo with a knowing grin.

gojo flushed, ducking his head. “like [★] would even look twice at me. she’s so far out of my league it’s not even funny.”

“well yeah, not with that attitude!” geto chided. “you’re a catch, gojo. smart, funny, stupid handsome. any girl would be lucky to have you. just talk to her, be your charming self. what’s the worst that could happen?”

“she could laugh in my face?” gojo suggested glumly. “or have her quarterback boyfriend beat me up?”

geto sighed in exasperation, slinging an arm around his best friend's shoulders. “you’ll never know if you don’t try. [★] is single and i’ve seen her checking you out in class when she thinks no one’s looking. trust me, you’ve got a shot. don’t waste it being a pussy.”

gojo took a fortifying breath as they crossed the threshold into the packed house. “okay. i’ll talk to her. but if i crash and burn, you owe me a whole tub of ice cream and a weekend of binge gaming, no complaints.”

“deal,” geto agreed easily, scanning the crowd. “now let’s get you a drink and go find your dream girl.”

and within only an hour and several red solo cups later, gojo could be found sandwiched between two jocks on a couch, only half-listening to their drunken debate about the upcoming game. his eyes kept flicking to where you held court across the room, radiant in a barely-there crop top and mini-skirt as you laughed with your girls. you were a vision, beautiful hair and glowing skin and dangly earrings catching the light. ethereal, untouchable.

what would a goddess like you possibly want with a loser like him?

and as if on cue, your gaze met his and your glossy lips curved in a small secret smile, eyes sparkling with mischief. his breathing hitched and he looked away quickly, face heating. okay, maybe geto had a point about you noticing him . . .

“who wants to play seven minutes in heaven?” your bubbly friend tiffany trilled over the music, brandishing an empty vodka bottle. “let’s make things interesting!”

wolf-whistles and drunken cheers met her suggestion as people began arranging themselves in a loose circle. gojo watched you toss your hair over your shoulder as you joined, a strange fluttering in his stomach. he jumped when geto clapped him on the shoulder.

“dude, this is perfect!” geto crowed. “the ideal low-pressure way to get some one-on-one time with [★]. let's get you in that circle.” he started pulling a sputtering gojo up off the couch.

“wha-geto, no way!” gojo protested, but it was too late. geto had already shoved him into the circle, right across from you. you quirked an eyebrow at him and his stomach somersaulted. was that a pleased gleam in your eyes?

the bottle made a few uneventful rounds - geto got seven giggly minutes with the head of the drama club, a blushing band student got dragged off by her fellow tuba player, and then . . tiffany passed the bottle to you with a significant look. gojo’s heart started smacking against his chest as you placed it in the center and gave it a deft spin, slender wrist twisting gracefully.

he watched with bated breath as the bottle rotated, transfixed. it seemed to spin for an eternity before finally slowing . . and stopping. neck pointed directly at gojo. blood roared in his ears as hoots and hollers erupted around the circle. you were looking right at him, a small smile playing about your glossy lips. “guess s’ jus’ you n’ me, cutie,” you said with a wink, getting elegantly to your feet.

in a daze, gojo stumbled upright, barely registering the good-natured ribbing and back slaps from the other players. you held out a hand to him and he took it automatically, skin tingling where it met yours. your fingers laced intimately through his as you tugged him away from the group . . . and toward the stairs?

“um, [★]?” gojo asked, voice cracking humiliatingly. “isn’t the closet that way?”

you threw a smile over your shoulder and his knees nearly buckled. “i got a better spot in mind. somethin’ more . . private.”

by the time his sluggish brain processed the implications of that, you were leading him into a bedroom. your bedroom, if the riot of pink and stuffed animals everywhere was any indication. you flicked on a lamp, bathing the space in soft flattering light.

gojo stood awkwardly by the door, heart doing double-time as he drank in the adorable organized chaos. various raye, boygenius, and sanrio posters on the walls, rainbow lego sets on the shelves. it was delightfully telling and somewhat . . surprising, so at odds with your smokeshow attitude and queen bee reputation. he was utterly charmed.

“sorry about the mess,” you said, sounding uncharacteristically shy as you perched on the edge of the lacy bedspread. “i know it’s a lot.”

“no, i love it!” gojo blurted, then winced. real smooth. “i mean, it’s really cute. suits you.”

“yeah?” you asked, sounding pleased. you patted the space beside you in clear invitation. “i don’t bite . . unless i’m asked nicely. c’mon, come sit with me, gojo.”

on slightly unsteady legs, he crossed the plush rug to sink down next to you, hyperaware of the warmth of your bare thigh against his denim-clad one. “so, um, i don’t really know how this is supposed to go,” he admitted, rubbing his neck. “i’m not exactly a seven minutes in heaven expert.”

“well, we’ve got some time to figure it out together,” you said, angling your body toward his. “maybe we could start with just talking? get to know each other a little?”

so that’s what you did. you started off with the typical small talk - classes, hobbies, favorite bands. but the conversation quickly deepened and expanded. you found yourself opening up to him, confessing your secret dreams and fears, things you rarely shared with anyone. in turn, he revealed his geeky passions, his insecurities, his hopes for the future.

the more you learned about the sweet, clever, quietly funny boy beneath the nerdy exterior, the more your heart softened and warmed. he was so genuine, so different from the jocks and rich boys you usually ran with. being with him felt comfortable, natural, intoxicating.

at some point, you’d shifted closer to him on the bed, your folded legs overlapping his, shoulders brushing. as you giggled your way through an anecdote, you rested a hand on his strong thigh without thinking. he tensed slightly and you felt a little thrill, a flicker of heat. you squeezed gently, fingertips pressing into firm muscle.

“m’ probably boring you,” you said with a wry smile, glancing at him through your lashes. “jus’ rambling on about myself. we could do something else, if you want. maybe, y’know, uphold the seven minutes tradition . .”

he inhaled sharply and you thrilled at the effect you were clearly having on him. “you mean . . you want to kiss me?”

“i mean, i definitely wouldn’t object,” you murmured coyly. “i like you a lot, satoru. in case it isn’t already obvious.”

his blue eyes darkened behind his glasses. “i really like you too, [★],” he said, voice low and rough. “an embarrassing amount.”

“yeah?” you breathed. “so are you going to kiss me, or . . do i have to beg?”

his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “well, um. i-i’ve never really done anything like that before,” he admitted with an awkward chuckle. “i don’t even know how i’ve gotten this far.”

“that’s okay,” you assured him, placing a hand on his knee and feeling him tense slightly under your touch. “we can take it slow, figure it out together. m’ not exactly an expert either.”

he nodded, looking relieved and grateful for your understanding. emboldened, you leaned in, giving him time to pull away. spoiler alert, he didn’t. his eyes just fluttered closed as you brushed your lips softly over his. they were warm and smooth, molding sweetly to your own. after a moment of stillness, he started to move his mouth tentatively against yours.

you let him set the pace, parting your lips in silent invitation. his tongue shyly traced the seam of your mouth and you opened for him on a sigh. he licked inside carefully, exploring you with gentle curiosity that made warmth bloom through your veins. you stroked your tongue along his, encouraging, and felt him shudder against you.

slowly, you sank back into your mountain of pillows, pulling him down with you. he settled over you carefully, a pleasant weight, strong and solid in all the right places. your fingers tangled in his dark hair as the kisses deepened, wetter, hotter. his own hands skimmed down your sides to settle on your hips, squeezing gently as he rocked subtly against you.

when you finally broke apart, you were both flushed and breathing unsteadily. “is this okay?” you checked, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “we can stop anytime if you’re uncomfortable.”

he shook his head immediately, eyes dark and intense behind his slightly fogged glasses. “no, i don’t wanna’ stop. i want you so bad, [★]. i’m just nervous i’ll do something wrong.”

your heart melted. “you won’t, satoru,” you promised. “we’ll go slow, i’ll show you. s’ all a process, ‘kay? jus’ do what feels good.”

he nodded, some of the tension easing from his frame. you pulled him back down for another kiss, lush and lingering. as your mouths moved together, you fumbled for the hem of his shirt, rucking it up his back. he broke away just long enough for you to pull it over his head and toss it aside before his lips found yours again.

your hands roamed his bared torso greedily, marveling at the lean muscle, the heat of his skin. gojo might look like a lanky nerd at first glance, but his body told a completely different story. you wanted to map every ridge and plane with your hands and mouth, discover all the secret places that would make him shake and gasp and moan. he shivered as your fingers skimmed over his ribs, his stomach, thumbs just brushing his nipples.

he made a hungry sound into your mouth when you lingered there, circling the tender buds questioningly. taking the hint, you tweaked them gently, rolling the sensitive flesh between your fingers. he jolted against you as if electrified, a moan vibrating in his chest.

“y’like that,” you guessed, doing it again and feeling his hips stutter forward helplessly into the cradle of your thighs.

“y-yeah,” he breathed, sounding almost surprised himself. “it feels really good.”

spurred on by his responsiveness, you devoted yourself to taking him apart, finding all the places that made him twitch and pant and whimper so sweetly. you kissed across his collarbones, scraped your teeth over his pulse point, soothed the sting with your tongue. you felt dizzy with him, drunk on the salt of his skin, his scent of clean and arousal, the incoherent sounds he made under your touch.

before long he was squirming restlessly against you, hard and insistent against your hip. “please,” he mumbled into your hair. “i need . .”

“what do you need?” you coaxed, nipping at his jaw. “tell me.”

he shuddered, hands flexing on your hips as he ground subtly against you. “i need — fuck, i need to touch you. need you to touch me. god, [★], i don’t know, i just . . please?”

“shhh, don’t stress, honey,” you soothed even as heat surged through you at his breathless plea. “let me take care of you.”

hooking a leg around his waist, you flipped your positions in one smooth motion, straddling his hips. he gazed up at you with something like awe, eyes wide and dark, lips kiss-swollen. your heart tripped over itself at the picture he made, wrecked and wanting in your rumpled sheets. quickly, before you could lose your nerve, you stripped off your own top and unhooked your bra, baring yourself to his heated stare. his hands came up immediately to cup your breasts, palming the soft weight greedily before catching your nipples between his fingers.

“aah!” you gasped, arching into the touch as sparks shot down your spine to throb between your legs. your hips rolled down against his, your clothed sexes grinding together deliciously. “y-yes, gojo, jus’ like that!”

emboldened by your encouragement, he explored your body just as thoroughly as you had his, broad hands and curious fingers finding all your most sensitive places. you were panting and mewling by the time he reached the button of your skirt with a questioning glance.

“please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips to help him shimmy the fabric down your legs. your panties quickly followed, leaving you bare to his burning gaze. and slowly, almost reverently, he reached out to touch — he couldn’t help it, fingertips skimming up your inner thighs. you shivered and parted them further in silent invitation. his eyes locked on yours as he carefully traced your slick folds, circling your aching entrance before moving up to swirl over your clit.

“show me how you like it?” he rasped, voice low and rough with arousal.

biting back a whimper, you covered his hand with your own, directing his movements. “like this,” you instructed breathlessly, guiding his fingers in tight circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves. “a little firmer, mmm . .”

he followed your lead perfectly, rubbing and stroking until your thighs were quaking and you were moaning brokenly. it felt good, so good, but you needed more. “inside,” you pleaded when coherent thought became difficult. “gojo, please, put one inside . .” he swore under his breath at your words but quickly obeyed, carefully sinking one long finger into your fluttering heat. you cried out sharply at the intimate penetration, hips canting down to take him deeper. he watched your face avidly as he started to pump in and out, curling and twisting gently as he went.

“m-more,” you gasped, head thrown back as he found a particularly sensitive spot. “another, toru, i can take it.”

he groaned like he was the one being pleasured as he pushed a second finger in alongside the first, stretching you so exquisitely. he scissored gently, working you open, before crooking them just right to rub firmly against your g-spot.

you collapsed forward onto his chest with a fractured moan, fingers scrabbling at his heaving shoulders as he massaged that magic button with devastating accuracy. you knew you could easily come just like this, spitted on his clever fingers, but it wasn't what you wanted. not for your first time together.

“gojo,” you panted, catching his wrist to still his movements. “i wan’ you inside . .”

his eyes widened with understanding and he swallowed audibly. “a-are you sure?” he asked hoarsely even as his hips twitched up against yours eagerly.

“i’ve never been more sure of anything,” you said fiercely, holding his gaze so he could read the sincerity there. “i wan’ you, all of you. please.”

he nodded jerkily. “i want you too,” he said, voice low and intent. "so much, you have no idea.”

then he was kissing you again, hot and urgent, his tongue delving deep as large hands palmed your ass, rocking you against his straining erection. you moaned into his mouth, already imagining how he would feel inside you, stretching and filling you so perfectly.

together, you managed to wrestle him out of his jeans and underwear, your focus narrowing to the breathtaking sight of him laid bare beneath you. all long limbs and lean muscle, skin flushed with arousal, cock thick and hard against his taut stomach. he was beautiful, exquisite, unreal.

“let me . . .” you murmured almost to yourself as you shifted down his body, wanting to taste, to tease. but he caught your shoulders, stopping you.

“next time,” he said with a slightly shy smile at odds with the high color in his cheeks, the stark arousal in his gaze. “i don’t think i’d last right now and i really, really want to be inside you when i cum. if-if that’s okay.”

oh, that was more than okay. it was basically the hottest thing you'd ever heard. “definitely okay,”you confirmed a little breathlessly, reaching for the condom you’d stashed optimistically in your nightstand.

with trembling hands, you opened the packet and rolled the latex down his rigid length. he twitched in your grip when you gave him a few strokes, thumb swirling through the bead of moisture at his tip. “fuck,” he choked out, head tipping back. “you gotta stop or i'll . .”

“i know, baby. i know,” you soothed, moving to straddle his hips once more. your eyes locked as you notched him at your entrance, his hands coming up to grip your hips almost hard enough to bruise. “ready?” at his jerky nod, you sank down slowly, taking him inch by careful inch. he stretched you exquisitely, walls fluttering to accommodate his girth. when your hips met his, you were both panting, pulses racing, skin flushed with pleasure-pain.

“god,” he choked out after a long moment, sounding absolutely wrecked. “you feel incredible. so fucking tight.”

you clenched around him experimentally, walls hugging him ever so sweetly, and he bucked up into you with a low groan. “gojo,” you gasped, nails digging into his chest. “you’re so deep, so big . .”

“am i hurting you?” he asked, brow creased with concern even as he visibly struggled to keep still.

“n-no,” you assured him. “no s’ perfect, you feel fucking perfect. jus’ . . go slow. lemme’ adjust.”

he did, rocking into you with shallow little thrusts that gradually deepened as you relaxed around him. soon you were moving together, finding a rhythm, the drag of him in and out sparking pleasure along every nerve ending. you leaned down to kiss him messily, all tongue and panted breaths as your hips rolled and ground in tandem.

“i’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted between kisses, hands roaming restlessly over your back, your breasts, your ass. “wanted you. still can’t believe this is real.”

“s’ real,” you promised breathlessly, rising and falling faster on his cock as the tension coiled tighter in your core. “i’m real and i’m yours, gojo, all yours . .”

he made a rough sound, fingers digging into your hips as he started thrusting up harder, hitting that perfect spot inside you on every stroke. “mine,” he agreed, voice gravelly and low, sending shivers down your spine. “my [★], fuck, you’re absolutely perfect . .”

you could only moan in response, lost to the sensation of him moving inside you, hitting you so deep, stoking the fire in your belly to an inferno. your thighs burned, sweat blooming on your skin as you chased your peak, so close, almost . .

gojo was close too, you could tell by the telltale twitch and throb of him inside you, his thrusts going erratic. “m’ gonna’ cum,” he warned hoarsely, fingers scrabbling at your hips. “m’ gonna’ cum, m’ gonna’ cum . . i-i can’t h-hold —”

“yes - yes, yes, yes,” you gasped, grinding down hard, fingers flying over your clit. “cum in me satoru, wanna feel you, baby . .”

his hands grip your ass cheeks, spreading them apart before giving you two more sharp thrusts, leaving him cumming with a guttural moan of your name, pulsing hot inside you as you clenched and rippled around him. the feeling of him throbbing and spilling in you was enough to tip you over the edge, a cry tearing from your throat as you shattered around him, cumming so hard you saw white.

you collapsed onto his chest as aftershocks rolled through you, his hips still rocking shallowly into yours, drawing out your mutual pleasure. for a minute, you just panted together, sweat cooling on your skin, pulses calming. you felt him soften up and slip out of you and winced a little at the loss, a tender ache between your thighs. you’d have beard burn too, you just knew it. but it had been more than worth it.

satoru’s hands continued to stroke your back, your hair, as if he was reluctant to let go. you felt the same, luxuriating in his warmth, his scent, the sound of his heartbeat thumping steadily beneath your ear. you never wanted to move.

eventually though, he shifted beneath you and you lifted your head to find him gazing at you with soft, wondering eyes. “hey,” he said quietly, brushing your now-wild hair back from your face. “so, are we like, y’know . .”

“dating?” you finished, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. “yes, but only if you want that.”

his answering smile was like the sun coming out. “y-yeah, yeah. i want that. i’ve always wanted that.” he leaned up to kiss you slow and deep, tongue delving languorously into your mouth. “thank you. for showing me. for everything.”

“right back at you,” you murmured against his lips, heart so full it felt like it might burst. “m’ glad i got the chance.”

“me too.” he nuzzled his nose against yours sweetly. “so . . whaddo’ you wanna’ do now?”

you pulled back slightly to search his face, seeing both hope and trepidation there. “well, i was thinking . . maybe we could cuddle for a lil’ while longer. then, i dunno’, raid the flooded kitchen for snacks. come back up here n’ skip the party . . we could watch a movie? kinda jus’ . . see where it goes.”

relief and happiness shone from his eyes. “i’d really like that. a lot.”

“good.” you pecked his lips once more before settling back onto his chest, ear pressed over his heart. “s’ a date then.” you knew you’d have to leave this little bubble eventually, face the real world and whatever challenges it might bring. but right now, you didn’t care about any of that. right now, you had gojo, warm and solid beneath you, his fingers laced gently through your hair as exhaustion started to pull you under. you had this perfect moment, and the promise of more to come.

as you drifted off, lulled by his heartbeat and even breathing, a small smirk played about your lips.

damn, guess the rumors were true.

nerds really did just do it better.

★ SUGUGASM 2024 | please don’t copy, translate or share my work on other platforms without my consent.

[crushmeeren]

Can you do kenma x f!reader

Story:

Reader is drunk (and honry), so she starts dirty talking to kenma, and he gets really flustered, and they end up

👉👌👉👌👉👌💦💦

Yeah 🫶😭

Hell yes I can! I’m SO happy you asked for this friend! I’ve been trying to challenge myself and write for more than MHA so this came at the perfect time.

♡ Master List Link

Kenma / Fem Reader.

Everybody involved is aged up/18+.

✘ Warnings; consensual drunk sex, some subby Kenma and he definitely has a praise kink, riding, unsafe sex 𓆩☠︎︎𓆪

Kuroo’s laughter abruptly crackles through Kenma’s headset and god — he wants to reach through his console and strangle the cat looking motherfucker for making them lose…again.

Kenma takes a fortifying breath and seriously considers why he even tries to play video games with Kuroo, knuckles turning white from gripping the controller so violently.

“Kuroo, why the fuck are you still so bad at this game? We’ve played it a million times!”

“Hey! I’m not that bad, I have one ultimate move and you know that!”

There’s a pout in his voice and his dramatics make Kenma’s eyes roll so hard he thinks he could catch a glimpse of his brain.

“Really? Because from where I’m sitting you’re unnecessary deadweight. I would prefer to play with Bokuto and his build is even worse.”

Kuroo’s over the top gasp and protests fall on deaf ears when Kenma notices a familiar vibration pattern go off against his thigh. His gaze flickers to where his phone rests on the couch cushion beside him and he picks it up, lips stretching into a sweet smile when your name lights up his home screen.

If Kenma’s being honest, he’d been waiting for your text all night. You’d gone out with a few friends for a girls night only and playing with Kuroo was starting to bore him considerably.

You’d let him know you’d be home in about 25 minutes. Kenma bites his lower lip as he reads, beyond amused at the multiple spelling errors and way too many spaces between words in your text.

Yeah, he’s certain you’re wasted.

He types out a quick reply, pocketing his phone in his sweatshirt and tunes back into Kuroo’s irritated voice when he asks if Kenma had been listening to a single word he’d said.

The answer is a resounding no.

You wave goodbye to your friends with a delighted laugh bubbling out of your chest as the Uber drives off down the road. A few hands stick out of the open window to wave back and you grin.

Kenma had offered to pick you up but you were drunk, and for some reason the thought of being separated from your girls in the Uber had made you want to sob.

So, there you are, squinting at your front door as you try to shove the key into the lock. Your fingers don’t seem connected to your brain and your skin is sweltering underneath your clothes. You glance up at the night sky in frustration before the key finally slides home and you sigh in relief.

Once you open the door you’re blasted with frosty air and your shoulders shake with a pleasant shiver. You’re so happy to be home.

Looking further in to the living room you spot your husband reclining on the couch, feet kicked up on the coffee table in front of him. He holds his phone in one hand and turns his head in your direction as you let the door fall shut behind you.

His eyes crinkle when he smiles at you and there’s a softness in his gaze that makes your breath stutter in your chest.

He looks……angelic. Kenma is dressed in an oversized cream sweatshirt with some game logo you don’t recognize on it, silky black athletic shorts and white ankle socks. So nothing new, and maybe you’re drunker than you thought because the sight is stealing the breath from your lungs.

You’re yanked towards him like a magnet, feet shuffling you across your living room before you even realize you’re moving and you smile so hard the apples of your cheeks ache.

“Hey baby, how was your night?” he asks, trying to stifle a laugh when you trip on the edge of the coffee table. He tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and you melt down next to him at the cute display.

“Hi,” you breathe, giggling and resting your head on the back of the couch with a dopey smile. “It was so much fun Kenma! I do wish you could’ve been there though.” The smile melts off your face and your expression morphs into a pout, lower lip pushing out. He arches an eyebrow at you.

“It was a girls night. Besides, being out in a noisy bar is not my idea of a fun time. Talking to people is exhausting enough as it is.”

You lean in close to whisper to him.

“Hmm, I know you’re an inside cat Kenma, but I still wanted to dance with you. Plus, you are pretty like a girl.”

Kenma sputters, gaze darting to the floor before focusing back on you. “You’re just drunk.”

“Well, yes but I’m not that drunk.”

Kenma snorts a laugh and pulls his feet off the table. He rests them on the floor and sits up straight, willing his blush away as he tilts his head to stare down at you with a teasing smirk. He shifts closer and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead.

You hum, and in lieu of an answer you pull away from him. His brows knit together and he eyes you suspiciously.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking off my shoes! I’m gonna straddle you because I’ve been thinking about riding you on this couch all night.”

Kenma doesn’t respond right away and when you finally manage to toe off your shoes, twisting to face him, his cheeks have finally given in and are now dusted with a blush, lips parted slightly while he watches you.

He always gets flustered when you speak so boldly.

You wink at him, maneuvering until you can throw a leg over his hips and settle down heavily in his lap. Kenma’s hands automatically grip the exposed skin your thighs where your dress bunches up.

“Have you?” He asks with a flat tone, but it’s clear your words are getting to him by the way he tilts his head back onto the couch and sneaks his hands up under the hem of your dress to paw at your fleshy hips.

You moan softly when he squeezes you and you nod, licking your top lip lazily and resting your hands on his shoulders. His cock twitches in his shorts and you can easily feel it against your inner thigh.

“You’re just so, so pretty Kenma. I missed you so much.”

His eyelids flutter briefly from the praise and he shifts his weight, tugging you closer until you place your forehead on his.

“I missed you too. Playing with Kuroo was so boring, he sucks.”

“Yeah?” You rub your nose over his. “I bet that pretty cock of yours missed my pussy too, didn’t it baby?”

Kenma’s rosy blush travels down his neck and vanishes under his collar. “Yeah, o-of course.”

You giggle, twirling a string from his sweatshirt around your finger and rolling your hips to drag your panty covered pussy along the length of his cock. He’s as hard as marble now and you reach down to adjust him until the slick tip pokes out of his waistband before continuing to tease him.

He pushes his hips up impatiently to meet your movements, applying pressure to your swollen clit that’s just right and pleasure pulses through your pelvis as you both moan. You pause briefly to push his sweatshirt up to his ribs, leering at his lean stomach and barely there happy trail.

“That’s my boy Kenma, so good for me and so beautiful too,” you say with a breathy sigh. “Should we live stream a video of you like this? You blush so sweetly and your fans deserve to know just how much of a pretty boy you are. How you get so eager for my pussy.”

Kenma squeezes his eyes shut as a lusty moan punches from his chest. “Shit — baby fuck, don’t say that. Jesus, just take your dress off please. I need to see you.” His eyes flash back open, pupils dilated wildly as he pushes your dress up and off you before you can even answer.

You weren’t wearing a bra and your tits bounce gently onto your rib cage. Your husband’s eyes widen before going half lidded, bottom lip sucked behind his teeth as he smoothes his hands up and down your sides.

He gawks at you as if he means to devour you and a thrill races down your spine. The thick alcoholic fog that was clouding your mind has cleared considerably and your only goal is to get what you’ve been craving, the thought echoes like a chant through your mind.

“I’ll never get over the way you look at me when you see my tits.”

Kenma glances up at you in surprise but then you’re kissing him in the next breath. He makes a soft sound of pleasure and tilts his head to kiss you even deeper, biting at your bottom lip and swallowing the moan you give him.

You reach down as you kiss, hooking your fingers in his waistband and tug at the material restlessly. Kenma lifts his hips, allowing you to yank his shorts and briefs down to mid thigh. His cock bobs free and you break the kiss, chest rising and falling deliberately as you squeeze his shoulders.

He traps the tip of his tongue between his teeth and slips your panties to the side when you lift up to your knees. He steadies his cock at the base with his free hand and slides his soft cock head along your clit until you jolt. It parts your lips, catching at the right angle and then you’re sinking swiftly down until your ass meets his thighs without any resistance from your drooling pussy.

The stretch curls your toes in your socks and Kenma throws his head back with a choked off gasp, strands of dark hair sticking to the side of his sweat slick temples. You shift your weight, adjusting to the sensation of being stuffed full and use his shoulders for leverage to lift up halfway before sitting back down.

“Oh! Fuck, you’re always so tight baby. I can’t believe how well you take me,” he says through gritted teeth, rolling his lithe hips up into you because he can’t bare the thought of sitting still any longer.

The first motion makes your finger tips tingle, a surge of warmth churning in your belly as his cock drags deliciously along the inside of your pussy.

“Kenmaaa,” you whine, bouncing in shallow movements on his lap. He hears your unspoken plea and grips your ass, nails creating indentations as he pushes you upwards and lets you fall back down. A low moan spills from you as you hang your head, keeping up at that steady pace with him until your thighs start to burn.

Your sensitive tonight, and a knot winds up tight in lower pelvis faster than you’d like as Kenma studiously keeps his gaze locked on where you swallow his cock whole each time.

Your pussy flutters and Kenma’s eyes flit to your face, taking note of the way your jaw hangs open and your brows pull together as you pant shallowly.

“You’re gonna cum aren’t you baby?”

You nod frantically. “Yes! Please Kenma don’t stop, your cock is so good,” you moan, falling forward to grip the couch on either side of his head.

Kenma halts your motion mid air with a strong grip and you whine at the loss of friction.

“Hold still.”

And then he’s bracing his feet on the floor and thrusting up into you at a brutal pace, one hand on your hip and the other moving down to rub uncoordinated circles into your slippery clit with his thumb.

You cry out his name and the sloppy pressure on your clit is enough to push you over the edge. The muscles in your thighs tense and your mouth opens in a silent scream, Kenma moaning brokenly as he tries to keep his pace.

You’re barely coming down from your high when he jerks you down into his lap, cock kicking and upper half curling forward to shove his forehead against your shoulder as he cums with a gasp.

You slump forward into his chest, bodily squishing him into the couch and pillowing your cheek on his shoulder.

Kenma’s heart thunders in his chest while he catches his breath, rubbing your lower back soothingly and relaxing into the post orgasmic haze settling over both of you.

It’s silent in the background, save for whatever show Kenma had playing before and an undetermined amount of time passes by before you sit up with a coy smile and lock eyes with him.

“Wow Kenma, all this time I knew you had a praise kink but I didn’t realize just how much you love being called a pretty boy. Maybe you should ride me next time?” You tease.

He scrunches his nose up and spanks the side of your thigh sharply in retaliation. You toss your head back in laughter until he huffs loudly, shoving you off his lap onto the couch and tucking himself away.

You laugh even harder, leaping up and stumbling after him with half hearted apologies falling from your lips as he stomps off childishly towards the bedroom.

[absurdthirst]

Serving the General {Marcus Acacius x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Mentions of servants/slaves, mentions of war, mentions of blood/injuries, washing, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, rough sex, power imbalance, unprotected sex, cream pie, cum eating, oral sex (male and female receiving), analingus, anal fingering, cock riding, slight breast play, hurt/comfort

Comments: Coming back from battle, Roman general Marcus Acacius has you waiting for him. Serving him to clean his wounds and soothe his soul with your body.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Marcus Acacius MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The sounds of the battle are muted, the tent you are in is far from the front lines. Smoke from the fires being tended by servants and slaves alike is heavy in the air. You can almost forget the clashing of swords and the sounds of the catapults being launched against the fortified town. The clanking of steel and screams barely rise above the crackling of burning wood and the rustle of fabrics as men and women move throughout the camp. 

You aren’t rushed. The large cauldron in front of the tent has already been filled by others, hot and ready for when the general returns. If he returns. Your face doesn’t show the worry that you carry, the fear that one day the man that you are serving won’t return. 

The heavily carpeting floors of the tent are luxurious. The furniture better than some would have in their homes, carted from one encampment to another, providing comfort and a sense of home for the high ranking and lauded general. He has been honored by the emperor, by Rome, with servants and treasures, riches bought by the cleverness of his war tactics and the strength of his sword. 

The tub has been brought in, soaps and perfumes set out at the ready for his return. Wine and food will be brought in, other servants retreating so that you can care for the general in private, as was his custom after returning from battle. 

Waiting is the worst part. Pacing around the large tent, wearing the simple silk gown that he prefers you in. Your sandals are nothing more than a quiet whisper over the threads of the ornate fabric, hauled in from the east. The jewelry on your body displays your elevated status. You are not a slave and are more than a servant, but you are not a wife. You are Marcus Acacius’s mistress and his constant companion. 

Marcus grunts as he stumbles through the encampment towards his tent. He had suffered a few swipes and bruises during the battle but he emerged victorious. He is eager to sink into a bath before he sinks into you. You will be waiting and that makes his battle hard fought. He imagines coming back to you, your sweet, relieved smile, and he fights harder. He will kill whoever he needs to to make it back to you. He cannot marry you. You aren’t of his status. Below a plebeian, you are not eligible to marry but he keeps you by his side. Selfish, he supposes, but you’re his lifeline. Long ago he lost his first wife who died in childbirth along with his son and he vowed to never marry again. He enjoys your company and he loves you in his own way but he still mourns his childhood love. He locates his tent and pushes the linen aside to stumble inside, his eyes immediately finding you.

“Marcus!” You rush over to him, throwing your arms around him. When it is the two of you, you are allowed to be emotional, to show him how you feel. Sometimes you think that he prefers that over being in the company of others and having to hide your emotions. His arms around you are strong and exhausted, the battle long and brutal. You pull back and frown when you see a cut on his cheek, his temple, the blood of others on his skin mixed with the dirt and sweat. “Let me tend to you.” You coo, fingers reaching for the ties of his armor. His nod is weary and you don’t call for anyone to help you, wanting to serve him yourself. His wounds fussed over and cleaned by your hands and his aches and pains soothed by your body.

He nods, unable to pretend that he isn’t battle worn and exhausted. He wants to relinquish his body to your touch. You work diligently to remove his armor and he’s soon left in his bloodied tunic while you guide him over to the steaming bath. You remove his tunic and he’s not ashamed to be half hard, his body running on adrenaline and the idea of being inside you again. “Come on, General. Get in.” You demand softly and he hisses when he steps into the water. “Too hot?” You ask and he shakes his head, “no. No. I'm just - too old for this.” He sighs as he sits down in the water.

There is gray in his hair and lines on his face, but he is still strong and healthy. A lifetime of war has worn him down and you know that he is tired of the constant battle for lands that Rome seems to be fighting. “You will feel better once you are clean, well fed and fucked.” You murmur, reaching for the cup of wine you had poured and pressing it into his hand before you pick up the cloth and soap.

Marcus closes his eyes as you start to wash him, “every day more men die. Fathers, brothers, sons. There’s nothing I can do except battle onward for the Emperor’s orders. How many men must die at my hand?” He whispers, hating how torn he is while fulfilling the oath he made to the emperor.

You understand the frustrations that Marcus feels. He sees the death and destruction that war has wrought, the emperor only seeing the glory of Rome in the crimson red of the blood spilt. The cloth swipes away the dirt and washes the blood clean, but you know that it will continue to stain his soul. Every bite of his sword into flesh weighing heavily on his mind and heart. “As many as it takes for you to live.” You murmur softly, keeping your touch gentle when you see a bruise near his ribs where his armor had saved his life. “You save your men with your tactics and your presence in battle beside them. If you were to fall, the army of Rome would suffer.” 

Marcus knows that what you are saying is correct but he can’t help but feel hopeless as he tries to reconcile the losses on the battlefield, knowing he will be delivering the news of their deaths to their families upon arrival back in Rome. “And the Emperor would fall.” He whispers, knowing that even saying that is blasphemy.

You don’t say anything, knowing that you shouldn’t have even heard those words being spoken from his lips. You move to his face and carefully clean up the cuts, blowing on the wounds when he winces. “Drink your wine.” You urge him. “I will refill your cup when it’s dry.” 

He grabs the goblet, taking a large gulp of wine and he hisses when you rub into his neck where he has his worst injury. “Nearly chopped my fucking head off but I managed to dodge it.” He admits nonchalantly like the violence doesn’t bother him anymore.

You want to lean in to kiss the wound, but it will need to be sewn up first but it can wait for now. “You are lucky that it did not end up that way.” You wring out the water and dab at it again. “I will get it closed for you and the paste put on it after you rest.” You promise, even though you know that he doesn’t care about scars. A lifetime as a soldier, his body is a roadmap of battles and injuries. 

He downs the rest of his wine, setting the goblet down as he looks at you with those dark eyes. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you. “Have I told you how beautiful you look?” He asks softly, wanting a moment to let you know how much he appreciates you.

Your eyes slide down, slightly embarrassed by his words. You know that he desires you, every time he touches you it’s with a rough devotion. He brands you with his touch. You look back up to find him watching you still. “I always want to please you.” You murmur softly. 

Marcus tuts, reaching up with wet fingers to grip your chin. “It’s not all about pleasing me. I want to please you. I wish I could give you more. Give you all of me but there are pieces that are lost. I no longer own those pieces to give to you.” He confesses like you don’t know this. “And society-” You add but he scoffs, “fuck society. Noblemen still die. No one is above the gods. I do not care about society. I simply wish to protect you.” He admits, “if I die…” He says and you open your mouth but his dark look stops you from speaking. “If I die, you must return to Rome. Atticus promises me he will make sure you return unharmed and there you will find my domus and you will remain there with my coin until the day we are joined in death.”

You don’t want to think about a life without him. You have been with Marcus for too many years. Your heart belongs to him. “I think that if you were to die, I would follow not too long behind you.” You admit softly, reaching out to cover his heart with your hand. “My heart is yours, just like my body.” You know that he cares for you, he has made that obvious even if he could not give you everything. 

Marcus offers you a rare smile, one that is only reserved for you, and his heart thumps when you assure him that you love him, that you are his. “Even so, I want to make sure you are protected and looked after in my absence.” He says as he reaches for your hand and presses a soft kiss to the back of it. “Wash me, mea columba.” He orders, wanting to wash the battle from his skin.

You nod, picking up the rag again and and you are thorough, washing his feet and then sliding the cloth up his thighs. “You survived.” You remind him, biting your lip as your fingers inch up. You know that he is half hard under the water, already thinking about how he is going to take you. He always does, after every battle, he comes back to this tent and works out the rest of his adrenaline on your body, leaving you a sweaty, cum filled mess on his bed. “Now you get the spoils of war.”

He chuckles, reaching for the decanter of wine to pour himself another glass. “You are my spoils of war? My gold? My treasure?” He smirks as your fingers trail up his thigh while you wash him. “Corculum.” He murmurs, watching you with rapture as you lean over the tub, “I want you.”

“You have me.” You promise him, leaning back and reaching for the gold hoop that holds up the delicate folds of your silk dress. It’s an ingenious design, slip the hoop from around your neck and the front of your dress falls, revealing your tits to him. You stand and let the dress fall to the floor and are completely naked under the thin dress. 

Marcus’s eyes trail along your body. You take his breath away every time he sees your figure. “Bella.” He murmurs, calling you beautiful. He wonders sometimes how he is worthy of touching you after his hands have taken so many lives. “Let me finish washing. I want to be clean when I’m inside you.” He declares, reaching for the cloth.

You watch him just as eagerly as he had watched you. Water cascading down his broad body as he stands to wash his cock. Watching him harden under your gaze and you know that he is eager to take you. “Bella.” you murmur softly, repeating the same endearment. While you can never call Marcus yours in any kind of social setting, you know that the general seeks out your company above those that would gladly throw themselves at the powerful man. 

He washes quickly, making sure he is clean, and he steps out of the tub. Water dripping from his body as his cock throbs for you. He wastes no time reaching for your body, pulling you up against him as he surges forward to crash his lips to yours.

A man of Marcus’s experience has a strong appetite. For food and wine, for sex. He knows exactly how he wants to pleasure you and take his pleasure from you. You give in to him and melt under the force of his lips, wrapping your arms around him and moaning when he picks you up and carries you the few steps to the bed to lay you down. 

He cannot be soft now. He will be later when he's fucked the adrenaline out but for now, he slides his fingers through your cunt. Pleased when he finds you wet enough to take him, and he positions his cock to push into you in one thrust, his body covering yours.

Your cry is silent, mouth open on a scream that could not be heard. Cunt clenching down around him while your fingernails dig into the meat of his shoulders. Filled with him until you cannot think of anything else but the way that his cock drills into you. “Marcus.” You gasp out when you finally catch your breath. 

Your gasps makes him smirk and he grabs your wrists, keeping them together in one of his large hands so he can keep you still. He starts to rock into you, a harsh pace, unrelenting and unwilling to give you time to breathe when he so desperately needs to assure himself that he is alive.

You love the way he needs you. Driving into you again and again with sharp snaps of his hips. You take it, every thrust that has you gasping and moaning. Your body trembling under the force of his need. He needs more, he needs everything and you whimper his name again and again, watching the way his jaw clenches and tights above you. 

He grunts as he pushes into you over and over. He's relentless, wanting to lose himself in you. An orgasm is the only time his mind goes blank. He doesn't get drunk enough to forget the cries of the men he has killed. He squeezes your wrists in his hand as he rams into you. "Fuck you are so tight." He hisses, bending down to bite on your neck.

You shiver when he bites down on your flesh, moaning as he fucks you. The bed groans and sways under the force of his thrusts. “Marc- Marcus.” You pant out raggedly, pushing your legs up on his hips, and wanting more from him. You turn your head, kissing his temple over and over again. “I love you.” 

He can't say it back, the memory of his wife and child haunting him so much that he could never allow himself to love again, but with you...he is close to that feeling. He grunts out a soft noise, pushing into you and feeling your body absorb the brunt of his thrusts. "Shit." He hisses, getting closer and the adrenaline surges as he pants out your name.

He never says the words, but you don’t take offense. You know about his wife, his child that he had lost. The pain and suffering that he endured until you had come into his life. Becoming his comfort. “Yes.” You whimper. “I -” You cry out, stiffening underneath him as your body lights up in pleasure, driven to that peak by the rough way he loves you. 

He hisses when you clamp down on his cock, making him struggle to push into you but he manages, thrusting a half dozen more times until he’s spilling against your walls. “Fuckkkk.” He pants, closing his eyes as he rests his forehead on yours, his mind blissfully blank.

You whimper his name, rocking your hips as he slows his thrusts until he collapses into you. Lifting a leg up over his hips, you hold him closer even as he holds your hands. He will release you when he’s ready and you can stroke and soothe his skin for the rest of the night if that is your wish. “My general.” You murmur softly. 

Your voice soothes him, keeps the horrors of his mind at bay. He breathes in the oils you bathe yourself in and he presses a soft kiss to your neck, letting you know how he feels about you without saying a word. You hum, running your fingers through his hair and he grunts, letting go of your wrists. He shifts rolling over so you are on top of him and his soft cock slips out of you. “Sit on my face, corculum.” He orders, wanting to hear your cries of his name.

He is greedy tonight. You know that he doesn't care that his seed drips out of your cunt, wanting to indulge in his pleasures. He is filthy when he wants to prolong the night and make your voice hoarse with crying out his name. The soldiers around his tent will hear every scream and cry, smirking when you emerge from the tent in the morning and carrying tales of their general’s virility to the campfires as they boast as if it was their own cock being used. Leaning down, you press your lips to his before your thighs frame his head and you wait for the first swipe of his tongue. 

He groans at the creamy mess he’s left between your thighs and he hisses, lifting his head so he can slide his tongue through your folds. He’s desperate to make you cum for him on his tongue. His calloused hands grab your ass to pull you down onto his face, wanting to be suffocated by you.

The first gasp of his name is loud, your hips rolling at the gentle pressure of his hands on your ass. Dragging your cunt over his face, his beard becoming drenched in a mixture of your juices and his moans of pleasure being absorbed into your body. Marcus has always been a very giving lover, wanting to hear your cries of pleasure to drown out the screams of pain and death that echo in his ears. “Marcus!” 

Your scream makes his soft cock twitch and he works his tongue inside you, his nose pressed against your clit. He groans at the way you grind down onto his mouth and he closes his eyes, absorbing your taste and your sounds to memory for when you eventually come to your senses and leave him.

You rock back on his face, your head tilted towards the sky and your hands sliding up to cup your breasts. His hands squeeze your ass, making you moan as you move. It’s indulgent and wicked, your body already slick with sweat as he devours you from below. “General,” you whimper. “You are so good at making me shake.” 

He loves hearing your praise and he laps at you like a dog, messy and uncaring as he desperately seeks your orgasm on his tongue. He wants to hear you scream his name again.

You grab on to one of the tent poles by the bed, hanging onto it as you ride your general’s face. His tongue pushed deep inside you. Glancing back, you see that his cock is still not hard again, so if you cum, he will seek another orgasm from you until he’s recovered. “Gods!” You squeal when he pulls his tongue out of your cunt and sucks your clit into his mouth. “Marcus!”

Your squeal of pleasure makes him hum with contentment and he groans against your clit when you roll your hips, chasing your pleasure, to extend it. He caresses your ass when you are still on top of him and he grabs you, shifting you until you are kneeling on the bed. "Going to make sure every bastard outside this tent knows who is making you cum like this." He hisses as he kneels behind you and bends over to slide his tongue through your sensitive folds until he is circling his tongue around your puckered hole.

Marcus has used every hole you possess, not allowing you to keep any part of yourself from him. You gasp out, but he just holds your hips firm in his large hands as he tastes you. You can and will let him do anything he wants, knowing that he is used to getting his way. He loves pushing you, making you wanton for him. “I- your tongue.” You moan, dropping down to press your face to the bed.

He grunts into your ass, loving the way you grind back onto him and he presses his thumb against the slick puckered hole as he slides his tongue back into your pussy, wanting to taste you again.

Your toes curl when he breeches the ring of muscles with his thumb, moaning like a whore while his tongue curls inside you. Eyes closing as you let him do what he wants. “I- I want to suck your cock.” You pant out. “Make- make you feel good.”

“Not yet.” He rasps as he pulls back from your cunt for a moment. “Going to make you scream my name all night.” He promises and dives back in, lowering his head in an awkward angle so he can suck on your clit. Every injury he endured is in the back of his mind as he focuses on you and how you taste.

He should be relaxing, letting you take charge of his pleasure, but that is not the kind of man Marcus is. He leads his men to their deaths and now, he pushes you towards orgasm. His hands are always engaged. His mind focused on nothing else but accomplishing his task, whether it is one he sets for himself or handed down from his emperor.

He sucks on your clit for a while until he’s dragging his tongue back through your folds, his thumb now pushed into your ass and he works it in and out, loving your sweet cries of pleasure but he wants to hear you fall apart for him.

Your gasp of his name is all you can manage. Your body rocking from the force of his thrusts of the thumb into your puckered hole. Cheek smooshed against the soft blankets, you feel your entire core start to tighten with that familiar draw. “Marcus- you, I’m going to -“ you babble, so close to the edge that you feel as if you are going mad.

He groans into your wet flesh when you babble, wanting you to cum for him. He ducks down to suck on your clit and that sends you over the edge. You cry out and he smirks around your bundle of nerves as you cum for him again.

You don’t hide your sounds. Making sure that your cries aren’t muffled in the least. The men near Marcus’s tent will know how talented their general is.

He loves that you let his men hear you, hear how he’s pleasuring you. He’s groaning and working you through it before he withdraws his thumb and playfully bites down on your ass. He’s half hard as he flops to lay down on the bed beside you.

You moan and quickly cover his chest to kiss his lips. “Let me pleasure you now.” You murmur, kissing his jaw and then down his chest. “Celebrate my general’s win by sucking his cock and then riding him until he cums.”

He groans when you take his cock into your mouth, hardening in your mouth as he watches you with dark eyes. “Fuck.” He hisses as you watch him as you take him deeper. “You are so good for me.” He murmurs in awe.

You would pull off his cock and tell him that he deserves everything good, but he would never believe you. Regret weighs him down with the mantle of responsibility so you try to ease his burdens or make him forget about them. You hum around his shaft and hold his hips while you work him deeper with every bob of your head.

He bites his lip after he curses again. Your mouth is his Elysian Fields. His heaven. The thing he thinks about when he’s in the baths alone when he’s in Rome. “Fuck.” He reaches down to caress your cheek, loving the way you are covered in jewels he bought you to claim you in the only way he can.

You lean into his touch, humming happily as his thighs tense and tighten. You slide your hand up to wrap around the base, squeezing it and pumping it as you work the head of his cock. Swallowing around his shaft makes him bite out another curse. You love when he lets you pleasure him, your cunt clenching around nothing.

“I don’t want to spill inside you.” He warns you, wanting to have you ride him just as you promised. He taps your cheek, knowing you’ll spend all night sucking his cock if he lets you but he desperately wants you to ride him so he can watch you cum again.

You pout slightly as you pull off his cock, the thin strands of your saliva keeping you connected until it breaks. “You do want to spill inside me, just not my mouth.” You tease, holding his cock and keeping the foreskin rolled down as you move to straddle his hips. “My general.” You coo as you line up and sink down on his length.

He watches you with the same concentration he applies during battle. Focused on where he disappears inside you with ease and he hisses when your wet walls grip him. “I want you to take what you want, amica mea.” He demands, his hands finding your hips to squeeze the flesh.

You love when you ride him, when you get to set the pace and rock your hips as you take him deeper. Marcus lays under you, his back cushioned against the bed and you lean forward to let your breasts sway in his face as you roll your hips and squeeze him tight inside your body.

He slides one hand down to squeeze your ass and the other sliding up to squeeze your breast. He loves the way you rock your hips, your cries of pleasure making him twitch inside you. "Fuck, that's it. Look so beautiful." He murmurs, looking up at you before he surges up to take your nipple into his mouth.

The sounds of the camp around you are audible, but all you can concentrate on is the feeling of his mouth on your breast, suckling on your nipple. “Marc!” You moan, pushing your hips back a little harder as you slam down on his cock.

He bites down on the bud and he slaps your ass cheek, loving the way you moan his name for the whole of the fucking Empire to hear who is making you feel like this. "That's it." He growls, kissing your sternum.

Marcus Acacius is a fierce soldier and general, just like he is a fierce lover. Your body responds to his touch like a wildfire is spreading in your blood. Making your hips speed up and you bounce faster on his cock, riding him like you would his giant war horse if you were trying to outrun a barrage of arrows. “Marcus- I- Marcus!” You scream out, body stiffening in pleasure as you start to cum.

When you clamp down on his cock, he hisses at how fucking tight you get, and you collapse forward onto his chest. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." He grunts, wrapping his arms around you, thrusting up into you. He works you through your orgasm and loves the way your wails continue as you ride your high.

Turning your head, you press your lips to his skin, kissing his shoulder and up his neck. “I love you.” You moan softly. He won’t return the sentiment, he can’t, but you can say it for the both of you. “Cum for me.” You urge softly. “Fill me up.”

He wants to hold off again but your cunt is squeezing him and you are kissing his neck. "Fuck, amor." He lets his emotion slip as he thrusts up into you until he is pulsing, painting your walls with his seed.

You whine softly, loving the feeling of warmth as he floods your womb. Kissing his pulse and panting against his skin. “You are perfect.” You praise him. “The gods have blessed me when they gave me to you.”

He grunts as you shower him with sweet words and for a moment, he wishes he was a simpler man. A plebeian who could marry you and bring you into daylight, but he can’t. You are his mistress and you are hidden in the shadows because of who he is, what he is. His hands caress your sides as he relaxes beneath you, body aching now the adrenaline has worn off.

“Sleep.” You coo, feeling his breathing start to slow down. His body is slipping into the boneless exhaustion. He will need to eat, but he can rest for now and you will take care of whatever he needs when he wakes. The general has fought hard today and deserves the comforts you can afford him. You kiss his chin and then his lips. “Sleep, my love.” You urge him softly. “Roman glory can wait.”

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

what do the rouges think of cardinal?

OHHHHH What a lovely question <33

Since i've yet to write in Cardinal in a scene beyond his desk work- these might change.

Cardinal acts well- like a cryptic?? It's a complete coin toss how he will behave, if he will turn the creepy to 100% and speak in tounge's (its a mix of latin and greek) But when he DOES respond its through a heavy voice modulater.

However if you want specifics?? (also some extra lore of some rouges no longer active- both due to. Cardinals interference and BECAUSE I SAID SO)

Joker- They are a menace, never once humors his schemes- he knows the moment Cardinal gets involved his fun is ruined. Therefore he hates their guts. (Cardinal is reported 10x more brutal when faced with the Joker)

Scarecrow- Self proclaimed "Arch enemy" of Cardinal since hes never once sucseeded in drugging them, and he longs to know what would make the little bird sing. (Cardinal is said to have an entire pocket dedicated to backup rebreathers, usually lets the bats take over)

Riddler- LOVES Cardinal so so much- they are like best friends (no no they are not) Cardinal seems to enjoy his puzzles and he's able to pull out ones even the Batman would struggle with. Sometimes an informant for a good game. (Cardinal will admit, out of all the rouges? He doesn't mind Riddler- just with less hostages)

Harley- Thinks they are strange, even more strange than the bats. But more than anything concerning- their behaviors raise a ton of red flags but she doubts she can convince them to therapy, though it is her goal. (Cardinal is... unsure about Harley, she's changed- but memories are hard)

Ivy- Theres a mutual respect- Though out of all the vigilantes Cardinal seems to fear her the most, the last time being hit by her pollen they freaked out enough Harley made her give over the antidote. They definently fight, but she does try and hold back some of her more underhanded stuff. (Cardinals suit got several more layers after that incident)

Mr.Freeze- Reformed villain now, as a result of Cardinal. Aka when he first did his villain monologue to them- they had spoke (for the first time to ANY rouge) and asked to see his blue prints. A few years later his suit was fortified to help him live a somewhat normal life, and his wife had been cured. They got their life back. Leaving Gotham soon after, but he still checks in on ocassion (Cardinal never responds though, but they're happy with the updates- that he was able to help)

Catwoman- Annoying, but interesting for sure. It seems no matter how elaborate her scheme they always seem to pop in and just stare or even wave. The most interesting thing though? They never stop her. Certian locations she robs they will return the item (usually museums) but have never once tried to actually take her in. If anything shes half convinced they throw the bats off her trail, its interesting. (She never steals from anyone who cant afford to replace it, and honestly her stuff goes to a good cause-)

Clayface- Never became a villain- After his accident, Dagget had been shut down long before so Matt Hageb he had no accsess to the cream. With the help of his coworker (and future husband) Teddy Lupus he got the help he needed. Drake Industries came out with an amazing prosthesis program that helped construct a whole new face. Now Mr & Mr Lupus live in upper west side of Gotham where they now raise two daughters going to Gotham Academy.

Blackmask- Hates their fucking guts. People think Cardinal comes down on the Joker hard? They're practically suffocating Black Mask movements- buisness is failing and at this rate he's trying to put out a hit on the fucker. (The hates their guts is mutual)

Two face- Instead of going to the Manori trial- Harvey had an emergency call from a very panicky Bruce who suddenly had CPS knocking at his door about Dick. The delay finding a new attorney meant Manori was found with the acid and held for attempted assault while Harvey was scot free. He owns his own law firm now and has continued to be a close confident to Bruce and "Uncle" to the kids. (Cardinal cried when he first found out about Harvey, that he was okay- he thought it had been too late.)

Penguin- Cardinal is a pain in their ass, not as much as Black mask but still just enough that he doesnt hold back when attacking. The ONLY saving grace from absolute hatred is Cardinal outright refuses to fight any of his birds, and will even go as far as to save some of them when the bats are too careless to notice a penguin slipping off a roof. (Cardinal wishes Penguin would stop dragging actual penguins into his shit- even with guns they're just too cute)

[brightmoontrigon]

foods of the Lands Between: spicy prawns · she-crab soup · meat dumplings · pickled veggies · herba tea · sheep's milk cheese · beast blood pancakes · rowa jam tarts

while Elden Ring has a variety of consumable items, most of them are described as being medicinal in nature. I wanted to come up with food that people in the Lands Between might have for actual meals! all of these were inspired directly by in-game items & creatures.

flavor text (hehe) below the cut:

spicy prawns: Widely enjoyed in Liurnia due to the abundance of crayfish, and seasoned with the same fiery spices used to prepare exalted flesh.

she-crab soup: A rich bisque made with fish stock, cream, fortified wine, crab meat, and crab eggs. The roe of giant crabs is particularly prized for use in this dish.

meat dumplings: A staple in the Lands Between made with whatever meat is readily available (springhare, guillemot, and land octopus are common fillings). Methods of preparation vary as much as the meat, and they're sometimes enjoyed fermented or raw.

pickled veggies: Mixed vegetables preserved in a sour brine and stored inside of clay pots. Edible mushrooms and cave moss are frequent additions. They can supposedly be thrown at attackers in a pinch to inflict the [PICKLED] status.

herba tea: A beverage made from herba leaves that have been meticulously steamed, dried, and ground into a fine powder, then whisked into hot water. It can also be steeped from fresh herba, though the powdered form is preferred for both its stronger flavor and ease of storage.

sheep's milk cheese: A blue cheese made from the raw milk of rolling sheep. Creamy and tangy, with a salty rind that tastes of seagrass. Its vibrant veins of mold come from fungi that flourish in Limgrave’s coastal caves.

beast blood pancakes: The blood of beasts makes a handy substitute when fresh eggs are hard to come by. These dense and savory pancakes are often served with buttery marrow from the beast's own bones, plus a hearty dollop of rowa jam.

rowa jam tarts: While red rowa is rather sour and more commonly consumed by animals than people, the golden fruit from the Altus Plateau makes especially sweet preserves that are perfect for use in tarts and other desserts. Such treats are precious things.

[brittle-doughie]

Infinity and Beyond - Looking Into The Sweet Signals from Space Update!

We’re finding the imposters among us with this one!

The aim of this concept is to have it be a multi-update deal akin to the Dragons storyline with how they say “like the dragon series, we’re diving into a story set in a rich, expansive universe”. This peaked my interest, I’d love to see what they have in store! I know there are some folks who like or don’t like the Dragons story, so I wonder what you all think of this!

Meet Astronaut Cookie! She’s cute, has an ice cream sandwich satellite for a pet, even has a cat cookie motif with her costume? What more could you want! Yeah, her skill might be a bit too reminiscent of Cyborg’s (who also got a skin after 84 years lol), but I’m willing to look past that.

Alright, I’m kind of vibing with the setting already, cookies are probably toothpaste, wonder if they clean your teeth when eaten. How does one “escape” or even fortify against a blackhole? The event itself sounds similar to the Sugar Maze event to me…in a way somehow. Wait, why is Stollen Cookie here?Also Planet H A M B O R G A R

I’m now getting Star Wars: Rogue One flashbacks. Just like Cyborg, it’s been 84 years since he got attention, so I’m happy to see he got a cool skin to deck himself out with!

The Surprise Bears. They can either go well or go very poorly, still means I don’t have to run over and over again for the god damn legendary ingredients. However, I do hope the challenges aren’t meant to be a cap in any way, since that already drags it down when you were able to AFK for hours beforehand, even if it sucked. Team Fight getting a gem boost might give me more incentive to play.

(Gmod flatline sound effect plays)

The Deal with Legendaries is canceled, y’all /j. I can’t keep up with their pace, bro. I’m over here trying to write it from time to time and they already have another one on the way, I’m dead. Xylitol Nova himself is getting flak for having a supposedly dull design unworthy of the rarity, I’m already seeing it in the QRTs on Twitter lol. For me, I’ll wait until I cast judgment, he has a pretty cool skin though…

———————————————————————

(Astronaut Cookie looked all around her new setting, seeing the city’s sleek, clean, futuristic design she hasn’t seen much of back on Earthbread. The cookies here didn’t look all that different too, save for their ingredients being possibly toothpaste in some capacity. She was caught staring at this one cookie in particular, she observed them inspecting the shield and instructing the robots to different spots close to the barrier, Xylitol Nova Cookie chuckled at her once he noticed.)

Xylitol Nova Cookie: Ah, I see you’ve taken an interest in one of my cookies. That would be Xylitol Y/N Cookie, they’re in charge of making sure the barrier is in peak performance, they’ve been hard at work ever since we’ve seen reports of the blackhole.

(Xylitol Nova walked over to them as Astronaut followed. Meanwhile, you were instructing both cookies and robots alike on the status of the barrier, making sure that no fault in any way was detected. Until the voice of someone very familiar to you called your name..)

Xylitol Nova Cookie: Hello, Xylitol Y/N Cookie. How are you doing?

(You greeted Xylitol Nova in return and proceeded to ramble on about the barrier. You did your best at trying to speak to him, but couldn’t ignore that cookie next to him staring at you. It also looked like Xylitol Nova wasn’t taking your analysis seriously with that smile of his, something that bothered you to no end!)

Xylitol Nova Cookie: How routine of you, Xylitol Y/N Cookie. Always thinking about the barrier when we haven’t had any issues in the past couple rotations. We have a guest here today and I’d like for you to meet her-

(You couldn’t, you had to inspect the rest of the barrier-when Xylitol Nova Cookie suddenly hugged you from behind with a strong grip, a scene that made Astronaut Cookie feel…envious. You complained and grumbled as you try fruitlessly to free yourself)

Xylitol Nova Cookie: Xylitol Y/N Cookie. You are taking a break from now until further notice, I’d hate to use my authority on you, but this is for your own good. Feel free to interact with your fellow cookies, come and see me in my residence, or even introduce yourself to our guest here~! (I’d prefer you pick the second option in my opinion)

(You continued to struggle until it felt tighter to move, you looked to your front to see Astronaut Cookie hugging you from the front, her head resting on your chest. You swear she’s…shaking a little bit?)

Xylitol Nova Cookie: What do you know? Even our visitor is agreeing with me, she appears to have taken a liking to you too.

(…Who was this?)

[ltwilliammowett]

Cooking like a Sailor - Admiral's Flip

A small drink fresh from the galley today. Readers of the Aubrey Maturin books will already be familiar with this one, as he sent poor Pullings to the land of dreams when he had a few too many after learning of his promotion to Master and Commander (Treason's Harbour, 31-2). We are talking about the Admiral's Flip.

Today, a flip refers to a group of cocktails made with fortified wine or brandy that contain egg yolks or whole eggs. Unlike eggnogs, however, neither milk nor cream is added. In the 18th century in North America, a flip was understood to be a slightly different group of drinks: This was always based on rum, mixed with beer or cider and drunk hot. The drink became unpopular after the American War of Independence, when rum lost popularity in the United States. The modern flip probably developed from this group of drinks. Beer or cider was omitted, egg was added instead and the sugar content was increased.

The North American flip, which played a major role in North America for over a century, was first mentioned in 1690. To make the drink, a large jug was filled mainly with strong beer. Ingredients were then added to sweeten the drink. This could be molasses or parts of a sugar loaf, but sweet fruit was also used. Around a quarter of a litre of rum was added. The mixture was neither stirred nor shaken. Instead, a small iron with a ball about the size of an onion at one end was heated in an open fire until it was red-hot. The red-hot iron, a so-called "loggerhead", which was also used to heat pitch, was then dipped into the jug - the mixture not only became hot, but also began to foam strongly. It was then divided into smaller glasses and drunk hot, as mentioned earlier.

The Admiral's Flip works slightly differently and is also drunk cold. It is not known when this type of drink first appeared. However, it seems to have emerged at the end of the 18th early 19th century and was more likely to have been drunk in the Navy.

But let's get to the recipe (Lobscouse & Spotted Dog, by Anne Chotzinoff Grossman and Lisa Grossman Thomas)

Mix 1/2 cup of chilled brandy with 2 tablespoons of sugar until the sugar has dissolved. Then pour in 1 1/2 cups of champagne and flavour with 1 whole nutmeg. Pour into ice-cold tankards and enjoy.

[afewproblems]

Season Two Halloween AU Part Six

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...

As always, thank you thank you to the lovely Jess @strangersteddierthings for letting me inundate you with spoilers and general Stranger Things/Steddie screaming!

[CW: Period Typical Homophobia from the antagonist, violence, gore, bodily injury, Billy Hargrove is his own warning.]

***

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit. 

Eddie takes a step closer to Steve, but Dustin is faster. 

He pulls on the jacket sleeve, taking Steve to the window and Eddie can't even find the words to say to make him stop.

He wants to tell Dustin to give them a second, he wants to press pause on this whole horrible night and ask Steve to explain.

Because in what world did this make sense? 

There is no possible way Steve is gay, and even if is, the guy is fresh off of being dumped by his girlfriend just days before. 

On top of that, they're all running on fumes from a day searching for Dart, fortifying an old school bus, laying the Demodog trap in the junkyard, and finally coming back to the Byers to make their plan. 

Eddie's stomach growls at the sudden thought and he realizes just how hungry he actually is after all the adrenalin and running around they've done.

If Eddie is this tired and hungry, he can't imagine Steve is faring much better, he's not thinking straight. 

He can't be. 

Because if he was, if he had meant it, and Eddie just--

"Oh shit," Steve says lowly from the edge of the intact window. He presses against the wall, keeping himself out of sight as much as he can, "what the fuck is Hargrove doing here?" 

"That's what I'm saying," Dustin hisses, his eyes wide, he sticks close to Steve's side, away from the window and turns to Max, "what the hell is your brother doing here".

Max shoots Dustin a look and for a second Eddie thinks she's going to tell Dustin off before her face suddenly pales.

"He can't know I'm here, he'll kill me".

Lucas shifts closer to Max, knocking his shoulder into hers before turning his attention back to Steve, "he almost ran us over once, we were on our bikes". 

Their bikes…Jesus.

It hits Eddie suddenly that they're just kids, all of thirteen years old, with an unpredictable asshole standing just outside their door.

Steve sighs suddenly and squares his shoulders, his big hazel eyes move from Max, to Lucas, to Dustin, and Mike, before finally landing on Eddie. His brow pinches in the middle as his expression shifts into the same determined one from the day before.

But this time there is no nail bat in his hands. 

Shit.

"Steve, dont," Eddie says, darting across the room towards him, but Steve is too quick for him.

He reaches for the door and unlatches the bolt, "stay out of sight, all of you, I'll be right back".

It's a promise Eddie isn't sure Steve can make.

The kids immediately move towards the edge of the window before Eddie whispers out a sharp, "Go to the boarded one shitheads, he's going to see you". 

Eddie shakes his head at the four identical eye rolls, but the kids do as he says and make their way to the far window he and Steve just closed up. 

There are enough gaps between the wood slats that they can see Steve make his way to the path as Billy steps around his car. 

"Am I dreaming or is that you Harrington?"

The cherry of his cigarette glows in the dark as Billy takes a long drag before flicking it into the street. 

"Yeah it's me, don't cream your pants," Steve's voice is steady, the smooth lilt of his 'King' voice takes over and it's so different from what Eddie has come to realize is Steve's normal speaking voice that it throws him for a bit of a loop. 

Just how much has Steve been pretending all this time.

Moonlight casts shadows over half of Billy's face but it doesn't hide the way his lip pulls over his teeth or the dark glint in his eye as he pulls off his jacket and tosses it through the open window of his Camaro.

"I'm looking for my step sister, little birdy told me she was here," Billy says, a sneer pulling at his mouth as his eyes scan the house before landing on Steve again, "which would already be weird enough, and now I find you here". 

"I'm doing a favour for Mrs. Wheeler and Byers, babysitting, I don't think I've seen your step sister, what's she look like?"

Eddie can't see Steve's face from this angle but the words come out smoothly, no stumbles with the lie.

But Billy stares just a little too long for it to have properly landed.

"You do favours for people like that huh," Billy laughs, ignoring the question entirely as he takes another step closer. He and Steve are similar heights but Billy has a good twenty to thirty pounds of muscle on Steve and Eddie begins to sweat at the manic look on Billy's face.

"You're something else Harrington, I don't think I'd be able to stick around if my girl fucked someone else--"

"Your sister's Not Here," Steve bites out through gritted teeth. He steps into Billy's space, his shoulders high with tension and anger, "leave". 

Billy laughs, a low dangerous sound, "you know, this whole night's been giving me a weird fucking feeling Harrington".

Billy tips his head back and leaves it there for just a moment and Eddie watches as Steve relaxes for just a second too long, tilting his head in confusion.

"And I think you're lying to me".

Billy punctuates the words by slamming his hands into Steve's shoulders, knocking him clean off his feet.

Steve hits the concrete hard, managing to roll enough for his shoulder to connect with the ground first rather than his head. He manages to sit up slightly, looking at Billy now with a mixture of surprise and fear in his wide eyes as he shifts to look back at the house.

Billy smirks and leans over Steve, "I'm just going to see for myself, told you to plant your feet pretty boy".

He stands up to his full height again and kicks Steve in the ribs. Hard. 

Eddie curses quietly as Steve curls in on himself and makes a horrible retching sound, but there isn't time to worry about Steve as Billy comes lumbering up the front path towards the Byers front door.

Which is unlocked.

Eddie hadn't even thought to latch it.

"Hide. Now!" Eddie hisses at Max, she opens her mouth to argue but Lucas gives her a push to the shoulder and looks at her with pleading eyes.

"Just go okay?" Lucas whispers, pushing her again towards the kitchen.

She shoots Lucas a fierce glare over her shoulder and disappears around the corner. 

Eddie steps back towards the kids, putting himself between them and the door, just in time for it to crash open. 

Billy looks around the room, frowning slightly at the boarded up window and all of the drawings covering nearly every inch of the place like vines, before his gaze lands on Eddie and the kids behind him.

"Well, well, well, this is quite the party here huh boys," Billy sneers, kicking the door closed behind him.

"A private one," Eddie manages to keep his tone even as he takes a step closer, drawing Billy's eye away from the kids, "what do you want Hargrove".

Billy scoffs and tries to step around Eddie, yelling at the top of his voice as he moves, "Maxine! You got three seconds to get you skinny ass out here before I bring you out myself". 

Eddie mirrors his path, blocking his movement.

"Who the fuck are you talking to man, I guess thats what happens when you take too many balls to face huh?" Eddie says with a mocking laugh in his voice, he lets the corner of his lip rise in a cold sneer.

Billy glares, "that's rich coming from a queer like you," he lifts his hand to shove Eddie's shoulder roughly, but Eddie's dealt with assholes like Billy time and time again and he’s expecting the push. 

He stays standing, keeping himself between Billy and the kids.

Billy shakes his head, "I don't know why you're involved in this, are you revenge for Byers or something? I ain't here for you or your little boyfriend out there, freak". 

"Just leave us alone!" Dustin shouts, drawing Billy's eye for the first time. 

"Yeah fuck off!" Mike screams as Lucas stands up, glaring venomously at Billy. He has his wrist rocket raised, armed with a piece of jagged wood from the broken window. 

"Sinclair," Billy's eyes narrow as they land on Lucas, "if I find out Maxine is here because of you--"

"You'll what?" Eddie growls, he hears a door open softly behind them but keeps his eyes on Billy, not taking any chances.

Billy seems to hesitate, his eyes dropping down to Eddie's fisted hands before rising again to meet his gaze, "Max already knows what happens when people don't listen, but I guess I'll have to show you the hard way Munson". 

Billy moves like a viper, his fist rears back and swings forward so quickly that Eddie barely has time to react, catching the punch in the jaw as he tries to move out of the way. 

"Sonovabitch," Eddie hisses, cradling his face. His vision swims as Billy reaches for his shirt collar, but the second blow never comes.

Billy's hand falls as Steve appears, barreling into Billy, shoulder first like a linebacker, sending them both crashing into the floor. Billy's head smacks into the linoleum, forcing a low groan out of him.

Steve recovers quicker, rolling off the other teen before rising to his knees. He’s breathing hard and holding his ribs with one hand while the other braces on the coffee table as he stands up.

"Holy shit," Dustin laughs out breathlessly as Steve limps closer, moving into Eddie's space.

"You guys okay?" Steve asks softly, he lifts his hand up towards Eddie's aching jaw but stops just shy of touching him. He blinks once and moves away again before turning to the kids.

They all freeze at the sound of a wild laugh behind them.

Billy runs a shaking hand through his mullet, slowly sitting up, scoffing when his fingers come away red. 

"Finally!" Billy crows, "the King Steve I've been hearing about shows his face, where was he when I gave you that black eye yesterday huh?" 

Billy wipes the blood from the side of his head on his jeans and laughs again, a horrible cackle that seems to echo around the small space of the living room. He paws at something on the floor as he manages to roll over onto his knees, breathing hard.

"Let me give you some advice Harrington,” Billy says through gritted teeth, bracing one hand on the coffee table while the other remains strangely hidden behind his back.

Steve says nothing, moving himself to stand in front of Eddie and the kids. Billy stumbles slightly and shakes his head as he manages to get his feet back under himself. 

"If you're gonna hit someone, make sure they don't get back up".

By the time Eddie sees what Billy has clenched in his hand it's too late. 

Billy swings his hand out and catches Steve in the temple with an ashtray, the ceramic shatters on impact sending pieces of pottery in all directions and embedding several into Billy’s hand. 

Eddie's heart nearly stops at the wet crunch it makes as Steve's head whips back at the impact. He crumples limply to the floor, his head bouncing once against the linoleum before Steve lays still on the living room floor.

Eddie feels like he's underwater. Like time has slowed down and he's sinking.

He doesn't realize he's moving until he's in front of Billy, until he's gripping the edges of Billy's shirt in his hands, until he's shaking him like a ragdoll.

Eddie's never felt such overwhelming rage and fear, its coursing through him, burning him up from the inside out.

Steve isn't moving.

There's only coherent thought playing on a loop in his head. 

He's dead, he's dead, he's dead.

"Billy!" A small voice cuts through Eddie's yelling, when had he started yelling, from the kitchen door.

Billy's face tips towards it, his dazed eyes widen slightly and his lip curls back in a feral smile.

"I fucking knew it," Billy slurs out as Eddie throws him to the floor. 

He laughs again and again, his head bleeding freely now, red lines drip down his face.

Max takes a shaky step into the living room; she ignores Lucas yelling at her to run and continues forward, Will's second dose of sedative clutched in her left hand. 

Max pushes past Eddie, drops to her knees and plunges the needle into Billy's neck with a roar. Eddie watches as Billy flinches at the impact and lifts his hands to frantically rip the needle out.

"What the fuck?!" He whispers, trying to sit up but his shaking arms only drop him back to the floor, "what did you do?"

"Made it so you can't hurt my friends," Max says lowly, she trembles as Eddie helps her stand and directs her towards the boys who immediately fold her into a hug between the three of them. 

Eddie keeps his eyes on Billy until his breathing smooths out and his unfocused eyes finally close before he’s on his feet. He crosses the room in two strides and drops to his knees in front of Steve, letting his uncle's voice run through everything he ever taught him about first aid.

Don't move them, keep them talking, keep them warm.

Eddie's hands shake as he reaches out for Steve's neck and feels for a pulse, trying not to look at the blood coating Steve's face or the shards of ceramic in his hair.

"Is he…" Dustin says beside Eddie, startling him. The whole house has gone eerily silent as the kids finally make their way towards them, they don't crowd him the way Dustin has though.

Eddie swallows and moves his fingers slightly until he finds it, a thin reedy pulse. 

He's alive. 

Eddie feels his eyes sting and a wet hysterical laugh falls from his mouth. Steve is nowhere near okay, but he's alive.

He's alive.

Part Seven!

Tag List:

@eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @eddielives1986 @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson @queenie-ofthe-void @rainbowsaw @sp0o0kylights @littlebluejane @hi-im-eff @phantypurple @just-ladyme @thoroughlycollected @justrandomfandomstm @swimmingbirdrunningrock @finntheehumaneater @dynamic-powerm@nightmareglitter @genderless-spoon @zaddipax @thebiblesays @amerikanskaya-krassavitsa @pyrohonk @emly03 @geekymagicalpotato @sidebarre

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @henderdads @stevesbipanic @spooky-brakers

[cannalle]

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[a-local-idiots-shitpost]

why don´t you befriend lonely Dragons? oh yeah it was because of surprise Parenthood

the (not so) long awaited sequel to the previous master piece but now with more caring for an egg

this got 1227 words

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

after getting a scolding from Lilia you and the egg were released for the time being, Malleus on the other hand wasn´t as lucky and is still stuck getting screamed at and getting the question thrown at him like “what the hell were you thinking!?” or “wait until your Grandmother hears about it!?!” and your favorite “apologize to YUU!” honestly you didn´t know if he was just emphasizing your name or tried to call you over so Malleus can explain himself, you honestly don´t know much about how Dragon Fae reproduce other than it´s kinda like Pokemon but you feel a bit bad for Malleus

I mean awkward situation and all but eh thinking of your time in Twisted Wonderland surprise parenthood to a (maybe???) half Dragon Half Human Fae isn´t in your top five maybe the top ten but that would need some more thinking on your part, while you were thinking the situation over you took a look at the egg it doesn´t look how you would have imagined a Dragon egg to look but you never really thought about it either

it was hard to see due to it´s coloring but hidden in the black of it´s shell it was covered in protrusions that reminds you of Malleus scales, you weren´t really looking forward to seeing if it´s true because not only is it incredibly heavy, the shell itself seems to be rather sharp too and considering everything you knew about Dragon Fae´s (still not much!) it makes sense they would be so well fortified even before their birth or after or even inbetween??? honestly what would be the right word in this situation…?

you were brave enough to touch the pattern at the top though mainly because it just looks like it´s pigments and not an optical illusions that wants to hurt you, it is a pretty cute thing to see on it though but you hate to admit it because there are more important things than just thinking it´s cute and to your surprise the shell was pretty smooth almost like touching a smoothed down rock or well... just a chicken egg you would have expected it to be more rough but nope just the “scales“ want you dead and yes you did end up touching them and yes those are sharp interesting thing to learn not so good if you want to hold it without turning yourself into ribbbons

you were still staring at the egg and didn´t even notice that Lilia released Malleus from the scolding of a lifetime but you suspect he got of so easy at the moment because Lilia could be worried how you would be taking it considering you are uncharacteristically quiet and even calm for such a situation, you only broke eye contact with the egg after Malleus sat besides you and for the situation his face was hilarious you expected a lot but you idn´t expect a pout from him he looks like somebody just told him he won´t get ice cream for dinner and is ready to throw a hissy fit over it

your sure he would like to say but doesn´t know how to and considering he already has enough trouble as is to talk with people this situation must be downright horrible for him it would be for everybody else but just even worse for him and considering your one of the few people he has befriended might make this even worse for him

“soooo Mal anything you want to tell me?” you had a teasing smile on your face and it at least took the pout of his face granted it was replaced with confusion but hey it could always be worse “your… not mad?” he really was confused about your reaction and that´s really understandable your even surprised at you ability to just roll with it, also your already used to looking after a somebody that acts like a child every once in a while and throws tantrums like one and looking after Grim who is a mix between best friend, pet and your beloved son so that might take one of the fears away

you shrugged “to be fair a lot weirder shit happened to me here you know? I mean I don´t have magic am stuck in a school for promising Mage´s with a lazy as hell Cat and have to constantly run into Overblot´s so having a kid isn´t really the worst that happened to me” Malleus still looked upset and you tried your best to lift the tension a bit, you slung an arm around Malleus and gave him a grin “honestly if ya wanna make it up to me Malleus I wanna pick the name of the fletchling, I´m not trying to say anything with it but I don´t think it´ll be easy to keep the Mal trend going”

you know he doesn´t want to but Malleus does have to smile a bit at your attempt “I´m surprised you can keep calm so easily Yuu most Humans would have surely gotten angry over what happened” you gave him a grin “most “Humans” huh? and what about Fae? because you don´t seem so calm to me”

“I…” you would have loved to joke around some more but he seems really worried about it “I would have preferred if it happened it would have been under better circumstances” you know you should handle it with more tact and seriousness but that´s just not how you roll, you decided to take Malleus in your arm, you found a safe spot for the egg and to you and his surprise you managed to pick him around and swung him around a bit “aww no need to worry Malleus plenty of buddies had kids before and plenty of em will have em after us, granted this is a bit more unique situation but hey I´m a master at getting the weirdest cards dealt and handling them perfectly”

you know he isn´t happy with your jokes during such an important conversation but you put his worries at ease at least a little bit

“Yuu I want to ask you something” you put him down and just looked at him and he took it as his queue to continue “do you know how to raise a Dragon Fae?” uhhhh… you feel like your going to be dragged into an awkward conversation “not really? why?” Malleus gave you a grin and you know you just made a horrible mistake and that it´s his time to play around now

“that´s good to hear because Lilia so graciously offered to teach you on how to best care for the egg” you know you can´t get out of this one but you sure will try but first… “very serious and important question could Grim somehow manage to accidentally boil the egg?” your sure Malleus knows what you are planning but is willing to indulge your whims “the monster of yours can try as much as he want´s but he won´t be able to hurt them”

“I see” this was all he got out of you before you decided to book it, you know Malleus and/or Lilia is going to catch you but for now Malleus is willing to allow you to stay in some faux peace and false hopes of getting out of Lilia´s lessons

[ladyofthenoodle]

finally allowed to share a little of what i've been working on for the @mlbigbang. this fic will be mostly adrinette and ladynoir, but i couldn't resist sneaking in this little bit of ladrien!

She found Adrien again in an alleyway, talking to something in his suit jacket.

Did he have a pocket inside his jacket too? 

Men really did have all the luck.

“WHERE IS ADRIEN AGRESTE,” boomed The Voice again.

Shaking off her sartorial jealousy, Ladybug landed in the alleyway. 

Adrien blinked at her with wide green eyes. “Ladybug? What are you doing here?”

Ladybug was pretty sure the answer to that was obvious. “There’s an akuma after you?”

“Yes, but—I was… hiding?”

He was still holding two cones of gelato. Bless his beautiful, empty head.

“Not very well,” Ladybug told him. “You were pretty easy to spot from the rooftops.”

“You got here pretty fast,” he noticed, with a weirdly smug grin. “Were you already in the area?”

“No!” Deny, deny, deny. “Why would I be here? There’s no reason for me to be here, where you are, and where the akuma is, except of course for the akuma, which is the reason I’m here and no other, and I definitely wasn’t anywhere nearby before this and I’ve never watched opera in my life because as I said, I wasn’t here!”

Adrien grinned wider. 

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” she shouted, face hot.

“You’re Ladybug,” he swooned. “Why wouldn’t I be smiling at you?”

Ladybug’s face grew hotter. “Smiling to see you—see me! I mean, happy to be you! Save you! The measure is pine. Pleasure is mine!”

His answering smile was softer now, more adoring than smug—which did nothing for Ladybug’s composition. He really was unfairly good-looking.

“I’m here to rescue you!” she added, rearranging her body into one of her seven Power Poses™ she’d practiced to increase her confidence and combat imposter syndrome…

… which she’d practiced with Chat Noir.

Ladybug slumped, the air whooshing out of her. He’d been so sweet and encouraging as she’d posed on the rooftops. Whenever she felt particularly silly doing a pose, he’d made up an even sillier one that they’d do together. Eventually, they’d both collapsed into giggles, and she’d finally relaxed enough to feel comfortable doing them.

After that, the Power Poses™ had worked like a charm. But until now, they’d always been fortified with the power of his belief in her.

Without that behind them, she just felt ridiculous.

Utterly ridiculous.

“Ladybug?” Adrien interrupted her train of self-pity. “I’m ready to be rescued now.”

She looked up at him through her lashes. He didn’t look particularly ready to be rescued—the gelato was dripping down his fingertips now.

But he did look like he believed in her. 

Like she could do anything.

Like maybe, just maybe, he could fill the space where Chat Noir used to be.

She puffed out her chest again. “Fasten your seatbelts, ice cream and gentlemen,” she announced as she held out her arm to him. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”