#I'll probably sit down when I get the time from work and draw the other ROs and my other babygirl Lancelot

[sunsunmi]

Also posting my mc Dominic since I drew them with Luceris yesterday! He's just a little emo with arson impulses in a funny revenge competition with some funny guy.

Luceris is from the wonderful IF ‘Crown Off Flames And Ashes’ from @coeluvr. Check it out if you haven't!!!

[satyricplotter]

pairing: dick grayson x reader

word count: 3.2k (i think?)

warnings: rape mention (as per dick's canon)

notes: i keep thinking of applying one of my favourite manga/manhwa tropes with dick specifically, because it works so well, but i don't particularly care to put in the work of setting up that it'd take for it to land as well as it could. maybe later. as it is, i'll give you the quick rundown because i spent two days writing it lol

something ugly about you has made you undeserving of romance. you have spent your entire life puzzling out what it is and how to fix it. nothing much is special about you: the matter’s far from isolation, or becoming any particular sort of pariah. perhaps that'd be easier to explain. no. people leave you alone, your friends cherish you, your family loves you. it is not that you have not known affection, but that you have and so when you crash against the wall that horrible first time, it hurts all the more.

nothing changes after that. there is always a limit to where your interest can reach, unnamed but palpable. a line you cannot cross. it seems to you as if the entire world has reached a silent consensus during a meeting to which your attendance was not required and your input unnecessary. why would it be? this is not about you. after all, your ability to love has not become impaired. you like people. you’ve fallen in love. but who has ever loved you back?

this one facet of life has been closed off to you entirely, and you’ve been chased away from all attempts to form a romantic bond with unspoken threats of shame and implications of disgust. (a bit much of a display just for the offense of being little old you. you come to regard the matter so as you grow older and start curating some self-respect. it still stings as badly as scrubbing your skin raw under hot water, but not all the loathing is directed inward nowadays.)

regardless, you’ve learnt that you are undesirable, and nothing you can say or do will change that. you must be content with the other shapes that love can take. nothing that you want matters whatsoever.

you meet dick grayson one summer evening under exceedingly normal circumstances. you do not know about heroes or rogues, no batmans or nightwings. the person that crosses the threshold is none other than dick grayson, the handsome young man. suspicion does not cross anybody’s mind, and if it does, it comes only a good couple of thoughts after his darling smile and shapely thighs.

obviously you like him immediately. what’s not to like? he’s gorgeous.

you react to him with the tense wariness of someone hardened by years of useless crushes. trying to avoid him. trying to be normal when you invariably cannot. it’s fine. it’ll be fine.

you still crush on him.

it’s inevitable, at this point. he’s too pretty, too smart, too kind not to draw you in. every interaction comes a rush of exhilarating fear. at times, you manage to subdue yourself into normalcy, hang out with him with as much naturalness as you can muster. but then he does something particularly attractive and you’re back in square one, shoulders drawn together and so short with him he probably gets emotional whiplash. it’s as exhausting for you as it must be for him, and he still reacts to it with grace. it doesn’t help.

through your concerted efforts to be normal, or at least appear as much, you and dick become friends. not great friends, mind you, but good enough that you start hanging out on your own without any of your mutual friends present. and you only spend about three hours total pondering the meaning behind the phrasing of his texts. that’s gotta be some form of progress, right?

he sits at a little table away from the window, and beams when you arrive. coffee’s on him and conversation’s on you. you’ve got more in common than you first thought, but you go back and forth between imagining it must be fate and squashing down delusion, telling yourself you’re blowing it out of proportion.

at one point in time, a beautiful, sultry-looking woman approaches the table.

this sucks, you think, glancing away from dick’s bland mask of politeness. all of it is hopeless and it still sucks.

you and dick tense immediately, like you both know what’s coming. sure as ever, the woman smiles and asks for his number. you look away politely, sip at your drink. the proximity makes it useless to pretend you’re not eavesdropping (though it can hardly be called that when she came to your table), but you take care not to make any faces that’d give away the little storm brewing in your stomach.

you think about running off to the bathroom, get as far as shifting on your seat when dick shoots you a troubled look. the woman’s been at it for a little more than is appropriate. a minute or so more of insistence and she’ll be stretching the boundaries of her own dignity too far. you look away with pressed lips and move your hands under the table.

your alarm beeps.

“oh, shit, dude,” you gasp, hoping to land somewhere in the ballpark of realism. “It’s almost seven. we’ve got to go, or else we’re gonna miss the movie.”

dick gives the woman his apologies and swiftly runs out of the café with you hot on his heels. on the way to the movie theatre, you wanna ask the million questions running through your head—why’d he reject her? didn’t he like her? did he not think she was pretty? who is pretty for him? what’s his taste in partners? is he seeing someone?—but you know it’s a futile endeavor. what will you even get out of that? it’s clear dick didn’t enjoy the interaction either. you make small talk about something else, trying to draw his attention away from whatever conflicted feelings he’s moored in right now. just because you like him doesn’t mean you can’t be a good friend to him.

it’s a short walk. soon enough, he’s all smiles again. in the line for the popcorn stand, another two girls come up to him, this time much younger than you two. he’s nicer with them than he was before, but he rejects them all unequivocally.

“doesn’t it annoy you?” you can’t help but ask. when dick raises an elegant eyebrow, you panic and backpedal so hard you might as well have driven a truck through a storefront.

“a bit,” dick says, ignoring your rambling. you shut your mouth firmly closed when he gives you a sidelong glance, and continues, so very casually, “it’s worse when it comes from a friend rather than a stranger. so many people just try to befriend me because they’re looking for a relationship, or they want access to my body. it’s… tiring. i’m sure you can relate.”

“ah,” you say. your tongue feels numb, but you’re burning up under the weight of his gaze. “no. I don’t really get harassed like that or, um, asked out.”

“huh.” dick blinks. “really?”

“yeah,” you force out. blessedly, the attendant calls your attention. you jostle dick forward. “look, it’s our turn.”

dick orders popcorn. you get a large slushy that you’re not gonna finish. you make him pay. he complies with no question. inside the theatre, you spend all two hours and sixteen minutes of the showing in absolute silence. it is not so strange to be fixated on the movie, but you’re usually a little more chatty. under normal circumstances, you’d eagerly take the opportunity to lean closer to him, whisper something about the main character’s penchant for gummies and its relation to the degradation of the American working class. he’d glance at you and thoughtfully smile, and you’d catch a whiff of his cologne when you straightened.  for the rest of the movie, the twinkle of his eye as he forwent the film for your conversation would be all you’d think about.

such is not the case now.

you can tell when you’ve been summarily dismissed. in fact, you appreciate when people are subtle about their rejections. it’s always all the more humiliating when they feel the need to bring it out into the open, like your affections have been so blatant they must be commented on, debated.

the rest of the evening is spent convincing yourself that this is good, that this means it’ll be better for yourself going forward. you’ll be less distracted, if anything. dick’s attempts to discuss the movie with you afterwards fall flat, as the only thing you really want is to get home and stare at your ceiling.

when you’ve reached your apartment door, and are turning to enter after a hurried goodbye, dick calls your name.

“look,” he says, running a hand through his hair unsurely. “I don’t usually do this.”

oh, no. dread fills you up. he’s breaking up with you and you’re not even dating.

you swallow. “dick—”

“I like you a lot,” he interrupts. your teeth clang the way you shut up so fast. in fact, you feel a little dizzy. he continues before you can even process that first sentence. “I think you and I could be really good friends, and I’d love if we could continue seeing each other to, you know, hang out and talk. I do truly appreciate your insight. is that okay?”

you blink fast some three or four times. it must be comical, the face you’re making, because the corner of dick’s lips pulls upward despite him trying to keep a serious air.

“I thought we were already friends…?” you say, at a loss for anything else to say.

“yes!” he beams. “we are.”

“okay,” you respond, perplexed. this is so far out of left field. “um. text me when you’re home?”

“yeah.” he grins. gorgeous grin, to be sure, but why? “for sure.”

“cool.” you give him an awkward thumbs up and scurry inside.               

it is… baffling. you spend all of that night wide awake and pondering. dick must’ve misconstrued something, or either you missed a crucial step in your relationship. otherwise the end to that evening makes absolutely no sense. the only thing you can conjure up is that dick must reject a lot of people who, like he said, try to befriend him only to get with him or worse, only to fuck, and it’s not very likely most of those people stay in his life once it is clear he won’t budge on the matter. the fact that you didn’t immediately turn your back on him must’ve come to him as a pleasant surprise.

it’s sad. like, really fucking sad, actually.

that very sadness—and the memory of his handsome, bright grin—turns your outlook inside out. why do you like dick? clearly he’s got the looks and the personality, but do you really know him? what do you know of him? you make a list of things you’ve learned about him in the short time of knowing him. it’s not long.

you come to the conclusion, mortifyingly so, that you don’t, in fact, like dick grayson. that, if anything, the only thing you like is the idea of the boyfriend he could be, which is not the boyfriend that he is (you know nothing about that). it’s the social acumen inherent in bagging such a hottie, and the sparkling sexual attraction bound around it, that really prompt your crushing. it’s not dick as a person. frankly, you think, a little hysterically, could be anyone, really. didn’t even have to be dick. he was just there, the handsomest person in the room. an apt target for the voracious hunger of your heart. you’d mooned and mooned over him for ages and it turns out it wasn’t even about him.

god, you’re such an asshole.

in penance, you endeavor to actually get to know dick without the embarrassment of a crush between you. and it does, in fact, help. dick’s eager to get to know you too, now that you’ve both formally acknowledged you’re friends (such a weird practice, fresh out of kindergarten behavior, but, as you soon find out, dick is weird about plenty and not entirely well-adjusted as an adult). you go on outings together, attend one another’s events, text sporadically throughout the day. you learn which video games dick likes, you tell him which movies are your favorites. it’s fun and light and uncomplicated now that you’ve freed yourself from the constraints of romantic expectation.

not everything’s good. dick’s got bad habits, which grate on you. is it so difficult to put the stupid toilet seat down? can he not learn to chop vegetables in chunks smaller than an elephant’s baby teeth? can he, for the love of god, stop yelling at the tv during horror films?  he’s got some serious character flaws, too. you find about those a lot more slowly, but they don’t cause too much trouble.

you fight one or two times due to dick suddenly abandoning you in the middle of an outing with no regard for your safety, and his tendency to get pissy instead of saying whatever’s upsetting him upfront when he knows, you’ve warned him that you’re stupidly thoughtless about your actions at times. all those are things you wouldn’t have come to experience if you hadn’t given the man a chance to actually be a friend. it’s kind of heartening, actually, to have come so far.

sometimes your crush rears up its head in the middle of nowhere. it’s kind of hopeless by now, but you can’t help the fact that dick’s attractive. neither can he, anyway. you just watch him sometimes, the way the sun hits his eyes, lashes sweeping over his cheeks. it makes you go tongue-tied and silly, but the moment always passes. it has to pass. you struggle against it, recall every time dick has upset you or insulted you in one way or the other. some days it’s easy as buttering toast, others you can barely think around the searing heat of your desire. those are bad days for all involved.

one evening, when you’ve grown close enough you’ve begun to think about dick grayson as maybe, possibly, only-if-he-says-so-too your closest friend, he tells you about catalina.

he does it over the phone line, during your almost-nightly calls. over the months, you’ve taken up the practice of teasing him about handsome people he clearly finds attractive in a desperate bid to divert attention and train yourself for when you have to do it for real. this is not one of such cases, and as soon as you realize this, you sober up immediately.

he says it so simply. talks about it like it’s just a hazard of life. there’s a tight hardness at the edge of his voice, but other than that, he speaks like it’s normal Tuesday for him.

not so much for you.

“is it okay if I come over?” you request over the line.

for a moment, the only thing you hear is dick breathe. “yeah,” he croaks, and you’re bolting out the room immediately.

you don’t know how to react to this other than with a shaky sort of desperation. it’s been years since it happened. there’s nothing you can do about it now. there’s something big he’s leaving out, which you notice but don’t point out. a big lump forms on your throat as he speaks. dick tells you when you arrive that the woman is behind bars for an unrelated crime and the only way you stop yourself from wishing ill on her out loud is the fact he looks so politely disjointed, you know your fury will only startle him.

and you feel it so frightfully, the fury.

you love dick, you realize. beyond the fancies and the underlying attraction, you love dick as a person, as a friend. he’s one of yours now.

the evening morphs into a casual sleepover. you don’t interrogate him, and he seems torn between wanting to say more and grateful you’re not prying. you keep yourself open to the possibility, but also try to comfort him as best you can. you make dinner. you put on a movie. you talk and joke and quietly watch. he invites you on the bed with him because his couch is a nightmare to sleep in and his guest room is “unavailable”, whatever that means. you don’t even think about it, just follow.

lying together under the sheets with the lights off, the rest of your feelings bubble up to the surface.

you ask before you clasp his hands between yours and look into his shiny eyes in the darkness. you try to tell him, how this single evening and all those that came before turned over your loyalty to him. how he can come to you for anything he ever wants or needs—your ear, your care, your protection. how much you appreciate his trust and how much you wish you could make anything, everything better for him. how much he deserves it.

“I’ll never leave you now,” you vow with fierce conviction, searching his eyes for any signs of doubt. any other time you would’ve questioned this statement with the sheer weight of infinite possibilities, but not now. tonight, truth is absolute and in your hand. “they will never take me from you. I will always be on your side, by your side. i’m serious, grayson. you’re not getting rid of me.”

a glimpse of  a watery smile is the only thing you see before dick throws his arms around you and buries his face in your neck. “couldn’t dream of it,” he whispers into your hair.

you hug him back as tightly as he is, murmuring platitudes and running your fingers through his hair. he falls asleep like that, in the cradle of your arms. he feels secure enough to do so, and you feel both proud and nauseous about it considering the secret you keep.

that he’s told you this at all, that he’s trusted you with such a thing—you know how big it is. you know you can never betray him.

you consider your inherent monstrosity, that little unspeakable thing that bars your from that special kind of love. you understand, firmly, that any desire you feel will never be received eagerly and joyfully. not by him or anyone else.  in silent fury, you vow to die before you be like her, to bestow upon this man your grotesque wanting with no regard for his own desire, for the integrity of his being.

that night, you press a kiss to dick grayson’s hair and let him go forever.

.

the next morning, dick watches as you leave. you turn back one last time to wave at him from the parking lot, a bright smile and tussled hair you didn’t bother to brush. you wear out the clothes he lent you to sleep, so harried last night in your haste to come over that you’d simply forgotten to pack pajamas. he suspects you hadn’t planned to stay the night at all, but he’d been damned if he’d let you go yesterday.

you’re pretty. he’s always thought so, but this morning, you’re prettier than ever. it’s the radiance of your heart shining through.

I will always be by your side, you’d said last night. you’d meant it completely, then. dick had been dazed, overcome. he couldn’t take the brightness of your eyes, the surety of your affection. he’d buried his head in your neck and fallen asleep breathing in the smell of your shampoo. in the morning, he’d woken up with your fingers carding through his hair and the gentle warmth of your body against his.

that was nice. he wonders what he has to do to make it happen again.

[sturniolotrip-samandcolby-lover]

Matt sturniolo x Colby Brock X reader -

Dreams can come true

Summary -you are a youtuber and decided to do a lie detector with some friends for a video that leads to a confession and some very steamy actions

Warnings - smut ,oral sex m and f , threesome,protected sex , anal play ,choking,face grabbing ,hair pulling,spanking, dp (double penetration for all the innocent ones) swearing.If I've missed anymore else please let me know .Use of Y/N not proofread.

Word count -3k

Inspired by this photo

"Hey guys it's y/n here and welcome back to my channel , and if you're new here hi welcome .Today I'm going to be linked up to this lie detector here and my two friends here ,Matt and Colby are going to be asking me questions and I cannot lie .so if that's the sort of thing your looking for today is to see me probably embarrass myself then stick around".I say with a big smile into the camera hearing my two friends chuckling to themselves about the last part .

"Right you ready y/n " Colby asks as I get strapped in , I shake my head no in response with a small nervous laugh as him and Matt look at the pieces of paper that have their questions on .The pieces of paper that they have been keeping secret from me all day , I have no idea what they are but I just hope they don't make me blush Matt and Colby are both my friends but I've always seen them as so attractive, so when I had my dream about them last night I wasn't surprised.

*Twenty minutes later*

We've started getting towards darker and deeper questions . They've found out things that are bad but not too bad like how I admitted to peeing in the shower or biting my nails really badly as a kid .There's a pause before Colby asks the next question, he looks me deep in the eyes , I find my breath catching that I have to look away."Y/N have you ever had a threesome?" He asked I was shocked for a second "no" true I respond ."hmm" he says in response and looks to matt awaiting for the next question "would you ever have a threesome?" He asks.Shit shit shit I'm internally screaming, it's like they're mind readers with or they just knew about my dream last night I pause "yes" I say through a breathe true .Again the boys look at each other "so one last question y/n ...would you have a threesome with Matt and I?" I'm paused in shock , Colby said it so calmly that I can't even work out if I imagined it or not .I refuse to look either one in the eye "no" I say forgetting that the whole point of a lie detector is to show when people lie .Lie it says .I feel the boys glare at me , and I keep looking forward towards the camera not brave enough to look at them .

"Alright guys I'm gonna call it a day here , so thanks for watching if you made it this far .it's been interesting to say the least .Let me know if you'd like me to do another one of these.Please like , comment and subscribe and I'll see you next week ."I say as i turn the camera off.I show the man with the lie detector to the door and thank him again .I head down my long corridor towards the living and kitchen area where matt and colby are sat on the sofa.

"Anyone like a drink?" I say cheerfully as I walk past them avoiding their gaze .I'm stopped from walking to the kitchen by colby as his large hand wraps around my small wrist."sit down we need to talk" he orders.I oblige and sit between him and matt ."so about that threesome" matt brings up ,i go bright red instantly.colby notices "its nothing to be embarrassed about princess "he says , i shudder at this new nickname feeling the arrousal between my legs start to grow already I squeeze my thighs together underneath the skirt of my dress."tell me when was the last time you had a thought about a threesome with Matt and I ?" Colby continues .I take a shy breath "this morning...I ..I had a dream about it again last night" I stutter back in nervousness.Colby instantly puts his hand on my knee drawing small shapes on the exposed skin , I can't help but also think what else could his fingers do ."hmm well we have a proposition to make with you" matt speaks drawing my attention away from colbys fingers ."what's that" i say shyly."we give you what you dream , we've been thinking about it too" matt continues "so what do you say" matt asks .I nod my head in response "we are going to need to hear words princess if we're going to do this right" colby says with his husky voice ."yes" i say again more confident this time ."good girl" matt praises me " so since we're doing this properly we need safe word and whats your limits baby?" Matt continues." How about pineapple,and I don't really know my limits yet I want to see how far I can push them " i say looking him in the eye for the first time in what seems like forever.

"Good girl that's what we like to hear" Colby says with a small laugh." Now just let things go with the flow and you can say stop whenever you want to Princess , you're in control of it all " he continues.As he says this all his fingers move further and further up my thigh , I only noticed when his finger brush over my clothed pussy,"she's already so wet for us Matt" he says with a smirk .

" Sit on Colby's lap" Matt orders , I do as I'm told with it being very obvious already that I'm in for a long night and would be extremely submissive.As I go to sit on Colby's thigh , with Matt sitting in my previous seat .I'm distracted by colby kissing his teeth "actually Matt before she does that remember that she lied " he said in a teasing tone.i stand there in my dress Infront of the both , with them undressing me with their eyes ."you're right so she was a bad girl for lying" Matt replies "she should be punished " he continues."how about 10 spanks just to start off easy" colby says starring me in the eye " I agree" matt says."take your dress off "matt orders , i obey leaving me in just my damp underwear and bare at the top .

They both devour me with their eyes "good girl now get over here princess lay on your stomach over my knees " I do as I'm told "I want you to count for me okay?" Colby continues.

I lay there in what feels like forever awaiting the first spank ...*whack* "1" I say quickly the whacks continue until number ten *whack* "10 " I say , I'm now a moaning mess with my wetness now dripping past my panties .Colby rubs my sore cheeks praising me as I look up to already see Matt with his cock out resting on his stomach I'm surprised by his size .

Colby helps me stand up ,he points to a wet patch on the thigh of his jeans "look at what you done princess , you enjoyed that just as much as we did didn't you" he says rhetorical as he gestures to the tent in his jeans as I can see his boner being constricted.He reaches his hand up and pulls my underwear down , I feel so vulnerable I got to cover myself up when Colby grabs my hips moving me to now sit on his lap , I hiss at the instant sting of my reminder of my punishment."Put your legs on the outside of mine "Colby orders as I do to then he spreads his legs causing mine to be wide open and my bare pussy to be completely exposed.He uses his legs to trap mine between his and the sofa causing me to be in this spread open position with the choice to close my legs .

Colby's fingers dance around the top of my thighs "is this okay " he whispers in my hair , I respond with a yes .His hands quickly move to my pussy running his fingers between my slit "so wet" he says to himself , im already moaning slightly as he rubs my clit .I hold onto his right arm as something to do thats not going go cause rips."how about with that other hand you give Matt a helping hand" colby suggests , i do so i spit in my hand and wrap it around matts cock earning a instant moan from the shorter man .As soon as I start pumping Matt's cock , Colby enters two fingers into me , I'm a moaning mess and all the sounds that can be heard is my wetness , moans and Matt's moans.I watch Matt's face with his lips parted ,eyes closed and head back moaning my name .This sight and Colby fast rough fingers is enough and seconds later I feel my core tightened "ask" Colby says already feeling my orgasm coming "please please Colby can I cum , I need to cum so bad" I begged my head now resting on his broad shoulder "hmmm yes "he says after a pause " cum all over my fingers right now" that is all I needed before I'm a screaming mess withering around in Colby's arms .

I am completely oblivious as I open my arms I see that Matt is cleaning his cum off himself "did I do that" I ask exhaustedly with my head still resting on Colby's shoulder with his hands resting on my thighs comfortably."yeah, we came together" Matt says with a laugh .

"Let's carry this on upstairs "Matt says picking me up bridal style from Colby's lap he carries me upstairs with Colby following.Matt lays me down on my bed as both boys strip down so they're both as naked as I am ." Here's how it's gonna go y/n you're going to show us both what that pretty mouth of yours can do and then we're going to take it in turns to fuck both your holes do you understand?" Matt says so abruptly.I nod with a yes in response

I get on my knees at the end of the bed I take Matt's thick cock in my mouth swirling my tongue around the tip and bobbing my head down , I reach with my left hand pumping Colby's cock , his isn't as long as Matt's but it's alot thicker .I continue bobbing my head down both of their cocks , gagging , choking and tears running down my throat.I switch between wanking one off to sucking the other one until they're both moaning messes above me .

Matt removes my hand ,with Colby tapping my cheek in a way of telling me to pull off him.i look up at them both confused "we want to make you cum again before we do" Colby says at my confused expression."sit at the end of the bed baby ,I wanna do something"Matt says I obliged pulling my still weak legs to the end of the bed when Matt gets impatient and pulls my legs towards him he stand between them , towering over me .Colby sits on the bed next to be wanking his own cock I reach for his dick "you focus of squirting Princess" he says with a wink"I don't know if I can " I say quietly to them both, "don't worry baby I'll make sure you do" Matt says sweetly to me as he smacks my pussy lightly causing my leg to shake , he plunges two long fingers into me curling them at a fast pace it's less then a second that the room is full of sounds of my wetness "good girl"praises and my moans .I close my eyes as I start to feel my abdomen tighten when I shocked by the cool feeling of metal on my cheeks ."keep you eyes on mine when I'm making you cum" Matt orders , that's all it takes for me to be begging Matt "please Matt please" is all I can get out before he's nodding his head and I'm screaming while I squirt all down his hand .Colby holds me up as I come down .

I open my eyes at the loss of touch from Colby and Matt , to suddenly see Colby laying on the bed

With a condom already on his hard member and Matt standing with a bottle of lube as he rolls a condom onto his member , they came prepared for this ."you ever been fucked in the ass y/n" Colby says " no but ive had a finger , i liked it" i say blushing , "well matt is going to fuck your ass first and im gonna go second while i fuck your pussy , do you think you can be a brave girl and take us both princess"colby continued .I position myself so that Colby's cock is aligned with my pussy when I move down we both moan as he enters me , he gives me a second to adjust before he starts thrusting in getting me used to the feeling of him before Matt enters me from behind ."feels so tight for me y/n " Colby moans as he holds onto my boobs as they bounce .

I'm distracted in my movements when I feel Matt run his hand down my back , Colby stills inside of me "are you ready baby " Matt says I reply with a "yes" "come here princess rest you head on my shoulder let us do the work , remember your safe word " Colby reminds me .

I flinch against Colby as Matt squirts cold lube down my crack and rubs it around my puckered hole.I hear another squirt and await the cold but instead it's Matt rubbing lube down his condom covered cock .I feel a immense pressure and stretch as I let out tiny whines of pain against Colby's shoulder as I bite down on him .With Matt running his hands down my back and Colby's comforting words I start to relax and the pain slowly turns to pleasure.I give both boys the go ahead to move and soon enough they make perfect rhythms as one enters me the other pulls out.Matt grabs my hair and pulls it so im face to face with colby , he takes this perfect opportunity as colby wraps his hand around my throat " do you like this princess , these two cocks for you do you like having my hand wrapped your throat while you're getting both your holes filled" he says as he thrusts up into me ."I'm gonna cum "I say for the 3rd time tonight."we all cum together"Matt says "on 3" Colby answers "1....2....3"all 3 of us cum full of deep moans from matt and colby with a scream from me .I collapse against colby as he lifts me up quickly to get rid of his condom while matt does the same .I'm left trembling with no energy left in Colby's arms "are you done baby" he says to me I just nod my head in response "we'll call it a day" Matt says as he places a blanket over me and gets in next to me and Colby now with boxers on I was still completely naked ."But you didn't get my ass" I say quietly to Colby , he chuckled " there's always next time princess now you get some sleep we will look after you" he says stroking my hair .

[alexetbishop]

THE SUN AND THE MOON

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Demigod!Reader

Summary: Kate makes a visit in your universe after weeks of not seeing eachother.

Word count: 2.5K

Pure fluff. Kate is such a dog mum. This is taking the sapphic long distance experience on a whole other level. Reader is a daughter of Apollo.

a/n: there might be a prequel of this on the workings. It's still an abstract idea but I already got something laid out.

————————————————————————

"Okay, I'll come and pick you up tomorrow morning at 10:00. And if I find you two doing cheeky stuff again you can say bye-bye to your personal multiversal taxi." America warned Kate as she was opening a portal right on the fire escape outside your bedroom window.

"Just to clarify, we were just making out." Kate points out. "We were half naked but only making out." She adds mumbling to herself. She took a step forward, finding herself in your universe. "Whatever. You own me so many pizza balls for this." America grumbles before closing the portal.

You were sitting at your desk, music was blasting through your headphones as you were finishing up an assignment on your computer.

Kate opened your window and jumped inside your room. She smiled as she saw you concentrated on your work. Her backpack slips out of her shoulder, hitting the hardwood floor. She sneaks behind you and takes your headphones off.

"Whatcha listening to?" She whispers in your ear. You jump on your seat and turn around.

"Oh my god!" You whisper shouted. "Kate? What are you doing here?" You stood up from your chair, a smile plastering on your shocked face. You weren't supposed to see her until next week, so this was certainly a very nice surprise.

"Hi, baby. 'Was just popping by. Wanted to see what my beautiful girl was up to." She shrugged as her hands found your waist, immediately connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. When you draw back you notice she has cuts and bruises all over her face and probably on her body too since her suit was all ripped and a bit bloody. You tilt your head. "Did you come here because you wanted to see me or because you want me to be your personal nurse again?"

"Both?" She raised her eyebrows and made her famous puppy eyes at you. You shake your head and chuckle. "Take off your suit." You step back, crossing your arms under your chest. "Eager, are we?" She teases as she peels off her archery suit, throwing it on the floor. Now she's left with a black tank top that accentuates her muscular form and some boxers that had purple hearts on them. Of course she was wearing something like that.

You roll your eyes. "Just stay still." Your hand reaches her jaw, where a fresh and deep cut was glaring at you.

You took a deep breath: a golden aura began to shine around your body. Kate felt your warmth streaming from your fingers to her jaw. In a matter of seconds the cut disappeared. "Who did you fight this time?" Your hand moved to her forehead. "Just some thugs that were trying to steal some kind of dangerous substance. It was a pretty cool fight, actually. I knocked out three guys with only one shot." She says proudly. You smile at her being all cocky of her actions. "That's amazing, love."

As your hands were moving all around her body, healing her from every single bruise and cut, she rambled on and on about her mission. You had to force her to stay still because she was moving around trying to demonstrate how she back flipped and knocked a guy out kicking him in the nuts with her left foot.

Once her skin was smooth again you removed your hands and returned to a normal non glowing human. "Thank you, princess." She smiled at you and gave you a quick peck on the lips. "You knows you're always so hot when you do that. Literally and figuratively."

You chuckled and sat down on the bed, reaching for a bottle of soda on your bedside table and drinking it to get your full strength back.

Kate crawled on the bed, laying on top of you. Her arms cradled around your hips and her chin rested on your midriff as she gazed up at you with her dazzling angel eyes.

"I missed you." She whispers and leans her head forward. She starts to leave a trail of butterfly kisses from your collarbone to your lips. You can't help but giggle at that sweet action.

"I missed you too, Katie." Now her face is right above yours. Your hands find the small of her back and caress her there, your touch is as soft as a feather while you draw heart shaped figures on her bare skin.

"Lucky misses you too." You could feel one of her calloused hands sliding up your back and reaching your neck. "He's always so excited whenever I say your name." She then lets go of you, and goes to retrieve her phone that was in her backpack. "I've got a few videos of that, actually." She crawled back next to you, opened her gallery and pressed play on a video of Lucky being all happy and stomping around as his tail was wagging like an helicopter. You chuckle at the adorable sight.

For the next few minutes Kate proceeds to show you every single video of Lucky she had. (even the ones that you had seen a million times already) "Wait! I almost forgot." She reached in her backpack, taking out a small folder. She opened it and inside there were dozens of pictures of her, Lucky, and a couple with her team too. "I printed some more pictures for you." You melted. Kate knew you couldn't have a phone (being a demigod was really shitty sometimes.), and every time she made sure to print a lot of pictures (and yes, some of them were spicy too). You, in the other hand, were more prone to writing. So while you had an album full of pictures, she had a folder with all your letters and poems.

You couldn't help but to lean forward and kiss her on the lips. "Thank you." You looked at the pictures for a few moments and then looked up. "I got something for you too." You stretched your arm to open the drawer of the bedside table and took a small notebook, handing it to her. "It's a small scrapbook I've been making for the past couple of weeks." There's all kinds of things: poems, flowers, pictures and small things that remind you of her.

The corners of Kate's mouth reached her ears. "You're amazing, princess." She took the scrap book in her hand, starting to open it and flip through the pages. You stopped her. "Nah uh." You put your hand over hers, shutting the scrapbook closed. "That's for later. When you're back home."

Kate rolls her eyes. "Fine." She carefully puts the scrapbook in her backpack. She crawls back to you, fully laying on you and burying her face in your neck. She starts giving you little kisses on the same spot. "Come with me." She says in between kisses. "Come back to my universe."

"Katie, you know I can't." You sigh. Being long distance was certainly not easy. Especially if you both live in different universes, and don't have any type of communication besides iris messages, that you discovered can work between universes, but those can last just for a couple of minutes. (One time you left the "call" go on for the whole night. You had to toss 15 drachmas to pay for it. The inflation has reached the mythical world too apparently.)

"Please." Her soft voice was humming against your skin. You wanted to. You wanted to be with her, be close to her, falling asleep in eachothers arms and waking up to Lucky jumping on the bed and licking your faces. But you had your family to take care of. You were the oldest of the family. Your mum worked all day long, leaving you to take care of your two little siblings. And also you had college. You had missed the whole first semester due to the whole "disappearing into another universe thing" and now you had to catch up.

"I promise that I will, just not now. I have so much going on right now. I can't just disappear again after being away for months." You made her look at you, cupping her cheeks. "You promise?"

"I promise." You whisper, a small smile tugging on your lips.

She leans in and kisses you. She wants time to stop. Tomorrow morning she'll have to go back and it's going to be another couple of weeks until she can see you again. So she doesn't dare to pull away from you. She wants to be in your arms forever.

Soon her tongue slides in your mouth, sinking into you. But it's not enough. Touching you isn't enough. Her hands move up and down your sides, squeezing your waist over your sweater. Or better, her sweater that you stole the last time you went to visit her. Her fingers graze your stomach and slides her cold hands under the soft fabric. Your skin perks up, a shiver running down your spine to Kate's electric and intoxicating touch.

"Katie..." You whisper when her lips detach for a millisecond. She just hums against your mouth, her hands sliding upwards. She knows you're not wearing a bra underneath.

"Darling..." You say again a bit louder but she continues. And right when her fingertips are about to reach your breasts, you stop her. She leans back from your face, her hands don't move, they're warm, now having stolen the heat of your body. She's looking at you with her mouth agape, she's slightly panting, her pupils are blown out and tendrils tickling your now rosy cheeks. "We can't do that right now."

She furrows her eyebrows and she's about to ask why when someone knocks on your bedroom door. "Y/N?" It's your mum. You totally forgot that on Sundays she only works in the morning. Shit. She tries to open the door. This is the only time you thank the gods for having a crappy and old apartment. The handle of the door is almost broken, so it's pretty hard to open it unless you know the right mechanism to not tear the knob out.

"Quick. Hide somewhere!" You tell Kate as she panics and jumps out of the bed. She looks around and then she hears a click. The handle slightly turns and the door opens. Kate crouches down and slides under your bed right before your mum walks in your room.

You quickly put all the pictures that were next to you on the bed under your pillow and smile innocently. "Hey, mum. What's up?"

"I've made tea, do you want some?" She asks.

"Uhm- no. Thank you. I'm fine." You fold your arms under your chest.

"Are you sure? You've been in here for the whole day. You need to take some breaks from those books." She points at your messy desk.

"Yeah, I know. I'm taking one right now. You know, laying in bed and- looking at the ceiling." Kate has to hold in a laugh for your lame response. "It's very relaxing. You should try it."

"Alright." She says reluctantly. She takes a step back when she notices Kate's backpack on the floor next to your bed. Fortunately her suit was on the other side so she couldn't see it. "What's that?" She points at the black backpack.

"Oh. That's uhm- Will's. He left it here yesterday." You lie. But it was pretty effective because Will actually came to visit you the previous day. He would never own a backpack like that but your mum buys the lie and nods. "Hm. Okay. Well, if you need anything I'll be in the living room. Your siblings want to see Cars again." She states and closes the door behind her.

"Okay. Cool, thanks. Have fun!" You hold your breath until you can't hear her footsteps anymore and pat the side of the bed. "Coast is clear." Kate rolls out from under the bed and lays on your bedroom floor, a smirk on her face. You sit criss cross on the edge of the bed and look down at her. "What?"

"You're right. It is relaxing watching at that nice and smooth ceiling." She mocks.

"Shut up." You dangle down one foot and lightly kick her on her hip. She fakes a hurt face and pouts. She stands up and now she's the one looking down at you. "So, I gather you haven't told her yet?" You shake your head. You did want to tell your mum about Kate. But you know she would freak out. She's... very protective, to say the least. The first time you heard of camp half-blood or the term 'demigod' was when you were 15. You didn't even suspect anything since monsters wouldn't attack as you weren't as powerful as some other demigods. So she took that as an opportunity to keep you safe next to her. But the time comes for everyone and one day, after a big fight with her, you sneaked out, walking all the way to camp. And it wasn't a nice little promenade at all with monsters attacking you left and right every single step.

You only reconciled after the whole thing about your dad getting transformed into a teenage boy. Now you were on pretty good terms again, but her protectiveness hasn't ceased that much.

"I want to. I really do but... She'll definitely ban me from going to see you." You look down. "If she even finds out that in those months I've been in another universe and not at camp she'll probably get into a coma." You scoffed.

"Yeah, but you're an adult now. You are way capable to make your own decisions." Kate sat down next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

"I know. But the past months we became so close, more close than we've ever been and I don't want to ruin that again." Your eyes are fixed on your lap. You stop the urge to take your fingers to your mouth and bite your nails. Kate sees you getting anxious and she places her hand that wasn't around you over your hands. She speaks with a calm and smooth voice. "Hey, get those bad thoughts out of your head. In the first place, you didn't ruin anything. And secondly, I'm okay with you taking your time. I won't push you to do anything you don't want to." She kisses your temple and then presses your forehead against it.

You lean into her touch and exhale deeply. Then you turn your head, your eyes fix on her collarbone, the sun necklace you gave her is shining on her toned skin. You had a matching one, but with a little moon charm instead of the sun ("That way, it's like we will never be apart." Kate said when she gave it to you.). Then your gaze travels along Kate's features until you meet two oceans rumbling in front of you. "I really love you."

She smiles. "I love you too, baby." She pauses and her sweet smile turns into a cheeky grin. "So no head?"

You chuckle and shake your head. "Can't risk having my whole family hearing your pretty sounds." You peck her nose, making her scrunch it in an absolutely adorable way. "Those are only for me I'm afraid. I can propose some cuddling with a little make out session if you'd like." You suggest.

"Okay. That's fair." She nods in agreement. "Let's get started then, we have so little time and I have to tell you so many things." She climbs on top of you and gently pushes you down the bed. You giggle and your lips press together.

You stayed up all night. Talking about random stuff, taking breaks to make out, and chat again trying to maintain your voices and giggles as quiet as possible.

And it's in these moments where you understand that whatever happens, you won't ever let go of eachother. Because despite the distance you need eachother. The sun and the moon will always need eachother.

[dduane]

From the Writing Advice dep't: A complicated ask, a serial answer (part 1)

Every now and then I get an ask in the box that's complex enough that it has to be taken apart and answered in pieces. Also, sometimes I get queries in that are painful enough (in varying ways) that I elect not to attribute them when answering. This one is both.

I read the ask (and reread it, and rereread it, four or five or six times after it came in, and a bunch more times while I was on my back this week being sick), and gradually came to realize that for it to be properly handled I had no choice but to break it into pieces for best management.

There are three main strands to the issues this ask brings up: motivation, growth as a writer, and coping with or succeeding despite the current state of the publishing industry.

So let's dig in. Here's the first part of the ask:

I know there's no One True Path, but I'm struggling with this, and I'm sure others are too, so I'll just ask it. I want to make a career out of writing, but with shrinking attention spans and so much content to mindlessly consume, how do you keep the motivation to write? My friends get mad at me for getting discouraged when not even they read my writing. They get mad and say, "write for yourself, not for the validation!"

Welp. (sigh)

First of all, I think your friends are absolutely right. But we'll come back to that.

You have to understand that as far as the Search for Motivation goes, I'm probably Spiders DD, the outlier who seriously should not have been counted. I have been motivated to write stuff pretty much nonstop since I was eight, and did my first novel in crayon in a school notebook. (It was one of the thick notebooks. The ones with the black and white marbled covers. Most of you who come of US schools know the kind.)

So I'm really the wrong person to be asking about this, especially since it's now nearly the Year of our (Wood!) Dragon 4722, which would make me nearly, uh, six Years of the Dragon old. And being of such age, and a career midlist genre writer, I have the same source of motivation as the vast majority of my similarly-aged colleagues: the need to write or starve. (There's an Irish saying perfectly descriptive of my situation: "Too old to dig ditches and too scared to rob banks." That's my situation exactly. There's nothing left for me to do but to write.) :)

...Anyway, it's kind of amazing how that kind of motivation'll focus your intention, and help you keep it in place, once you're been working with it for a while.

At the beginning of a career, though, things can look a lot different as you start getting a handle on exactly what it is you like to write and why you like writing it. And having another job to keep you afloat while you find your way is seriously a very good idea if you can manage it.

It sounds very much to me as if you're still in the early "finding your way" stages. This is a place that a lot of writers pass through, so don't be concerned. It's rare for sudden perfect motivation-to-write to crystallize out of nothing. And never forget, the word itself is based on old Latin roots for movement, and provokes the question, "Yeah, okay, but which way?" Movement without intended direction tends to turn into a lot of unfocused flailing, which looks good on Kermit, but not so much on the rest of us.

(inserting a cut here, because honestly, this is gonna go on a bit)

So you need to sit down and start asking questions—and answering them—so you can draw some kind of map. "I want to make a career out of writing"? Fine. What kind of writing? Fiction? Nonfiction? If fiction, what kind? What do you like to read? Why? Is that something you'd like to write? Why? Why not? If there's something else you'd rather be writing—what else? And why?

The more you ask the questions and answer them—"Keep asking the next question," Ted Sturgeon never used to stop saying—and the further along your investigations get, the more likely you are (as you get close to the answers that matter) to start getting the itch to write something, something in particular. This process may take a while, and the itch may take a good while to manifest. Don't be alarmed by that. The old saying is that the fire from Heaven won't descend until you've built the altar for it. And it may take a while piling the rocks up into the right shape. Don't hurry. If this is something you intend to spend a lifetime on, make sure the foundations are sound. The time taken will be worth it.

And BTW, do you intend that kind of length of commitment? If you're not sure, that's fine. But there's no one else to ask at this point who can give you meaningful answers. This is the time to get into it. Work out what "having a career in writing" looks like for you. Then start investigating to see whether your conception has any foundation in reality as a kind of lifestyle you actually have decent odds on achieving. (Again, I'm an outlier here. I'd been writing for pleasure for a long time before I had the good fortune to befriend an actual career writer, examine his habits [and those of other writers in the LA area] at close range, and realize that this line-of-work choice was actually something that could be successfully pulled off by mere mortals.) After investigation, this is a call that only you can make.

But anyway. Once you've started experiencing the kind of motivation that comes of increased certainty about what you want to do and why, you'll find you're way less concerned about sourcing or supporting it externally. It tends to fuel itself. (As once it does descend, the fire from Heaven is tenacious stuff: more Greek than otherwise.)

But also: trying to designate outsourced exterior stimulants for motivation is a bad idea. The reason's simple: one day you'll need them and they won't be there. Conditions will have changed, or the outside-of-you sources into the hands of which you've resigned your motivational agency may not be available for one reason or another, temporarily or permanently... and then where are you? The concept's a nonstarter. If your motivation's acting up, you need to be looking inward, not outward, for ways to kickstart it. This is one of the most personal parts of the writing process. You need to own it.

(And yeah, even career writers' motivation slips sometimes: annoying career things happen, cyclic lows cut in at a bad time, you name it. Most of us work out ways to jar the motivation back into correct operation when it acts up. But for such corrections to work you must first know what it's like to generate or mine yours yourself... and you're still working on that. The methods you find to generate motivation toward doing the Work will also assist you in diagnosing it when it goes south, and putting it right again.)

Also: (sighing) Please let your friends off the hook as regards reading your material, and feedback. Your motivation to write should not be dependent on their feedback, and it's not a good idea to try to make friends feel responsible for keeping you on the creative track. Chief among reasons for this: they may not feel themselves up to the task of giving you the writing support you're apparently asking them for—possibly because they simply don't feel competent to. (This is where we could get into how I had to stop @petermorwood from rewriting his third novel for the third time due to conflicting notes from friends... but let's leave that for later.) At best you're possibly making your friends deeply uncomfortable. At worst, the pressure may damage the friendships.

Tl:dr; our friends may love us dearly, but that doesn't make them competent editors. If you're online, so are many writers' groups who'll welcome a new member who needs advice. Wait till you've got more data and clarity on your motivational issues, and then start shopping around for assistance that seems friendly and trustworthy.

And finally (for the moment), about other people's attention spans:

It'd be good if you can start training yourself away from the habit of worrying about those. For one thing, there's absolutely nothing you can do about them. You might as well worry about the 11-year sunspot cycle. The attention-span issue is just one more distraction from things you should usefully be thinking about. But also: A lot of what we hear about that situation strikes me as fearmongering (as, IIRC, it was supposed to cause the downfall of western civilization around the time I started writing for Scooby-Doo).

If you look around, you'll see that loads of people are willing to spend HUGE amounts of their attention on stuff they love. (I mean, have you been on AO3 lately? And we're just talking about free stuff, there. Lots of other people will do the same for traditionally published work, given the chance and the money.) Your job is to get on with writing, start putting what you're doing out there where people will have a chance to fall in love with it, and then deal with the consequences.

More of this next time. (And please bear with me, as I'm still not up to best operating speed after the last week's illness. I'll get to everything else you sent me, I promise.)

HTH!

[nayomi247]

Save a horse, Ride a cowboy𐚁

(My version)

A/N: @heart-of-the-morningstar has inspired me to do my own version of the save a horse ride a cowboy smut that she posted, so this is a full one shot. Make sure you guys go visit @bat-boness and give them love and support. As this fic was based off of their drawings. This also is based off the game Red Dead Redemption 2 because that's the only way I'll be able to format this and make it look good. (TAKES PLACE AROUND THE SAME TIME RDR2 DOES)

Pairing: Cowboy! Outlaw! Lucifer/F!Reader

Contents: Smut, established relationship, p in v sex, bondage, biting, orgasm denial, dirty talk, sub Lucifer, light angst, cowgirl position, spanking, hand jobs, dom and sub undertones, blow jobs, praise kink, Lucifer for once isn't short (only because of his boots lol)

‼️DISCLAIMER‼️: THIS ALSO IS NOT PROOF READ, IT'S SOMETHING I THREW TOGETHER IN THE SPAN OF A FEW HOURS

As always, work under the cut🤞🏻

Your husband, Lucifer, wasn't always the kindest man. Of course he was to you, but others weren't quite as lucky. There'd been multiple times where he'd come home with blood covering his hands and shirt.

Though it wasn't something you liked particularly, you still loved your husband, despite all the wrong he'd done in the world.

So there you sat in your shared kitchen, waiting for him to get home. It was well after the time he normally got back. You assumed the job just took a bit longer to handle.

But as time went on, you started to get more worried. He'd never taken this long before. You stood up from your chair, completely forgetting about the plate infront of you and walked over to the door. There, you slipped on your boots and went to grab the door handle.

As soon as you turned the knob and went to walk out, you immediately stopped. There stood Lucifer, coughing and dusting off his muddy clothes, not even noticing that the door has opened and you were standing there. His eyes finally moved up to meet yours.

He smiled brightly. "Oh, my love-" He started, then confusing took over as you leaped at him, almost pushing him off the porch.

"Where the hell were you!?" You practically cried. He fumbled back, both confusion and worry washed over his face. "Honey, what are you-" He started once again, but you had cut him off. "You know exactly what I'm talking about Lucifer. I waited for hours! I thought you were dead, or stranded somewhere!" Tears threatened to roll down your cheeks.

Realization finally hit him and he knew he had fucked up. "L-Listen, the job took longer than I was expecting, but I got out fine, see?" He spinned around, showing that he didn't have a single scratch anywhere. "And," He said, reaching into his satchel. "I brought home a lot of money." He smiled, hoping that would be enough for an apology.

You sighed. You were still annoyed, but glad he was okay. "Go inside." You said, stepping to the side to let him in. "Of course my dear." He said with the stupid, but handsome smirk he'd always use when he got his way. As he moved past you, he placed a kiss to your head. You swatted at him and he laughed, walking over to the coat rack.

"Your food is probably cold." You said, picking up the plate and walking over to place it on the stove top. You were one of the few lucky places to get electricity at this point in time. You walk back over to where you had previously sat. He stood by the door, taking off his boots and jacket, now left in black jeans and a red collared over shirt.

He walked over to the table, sitting in his designated spot, across from you. There you sat, looking like your mind was running a mile a minute. Silence filled the room for a few minutes. Lucifer was becoming more nervous with every ticking of the clock. No one spoke, except for him.

"I'm sorry." He said. You looked up to him, for the first time since he sat down. He looked guilty, and you felt a bit bad. You flashed him a small smile, which calmed his nerves a bit. "Go upstairs." You commanded, and he immediately knew what you meant by that.

"S-sweetheart-" He fumbled over his speech, trying to convince you that he didn't deserve this. "Now." You said sternly. He got up from his seat with a nod, then made his way upstairs.

You sat there for a moment longer before you grabbed cleaned up and started up the stairs as well. You made your way down the hall to your shared room, the floor boards creaked loudly with every step.

You walked up to the door, stopping for a second before turning the handle and stepping in. You looked over to the bed, and there sat your beautiful husband. He looked like a mess.

You couldn't help but pity him. He smiled nervously at seeing you enter. His thumbs twiddled together to keep himself somewhat calm. "H-Hello, my love." He said. You made your way over to him, placing a hand on each side of him and leaning in for a kiss. He allowed you to do so, groaning a bit at the way your tongues danced together.

You found him following your face, more like chasing your lips once you pulled away. You smiled at him, and he made his best attempt to smile back.

"I assume you know what's going on Luci?" You asked him. He slowly nodded in response. "Good," you continued. "Take everything off, I'll get your rope." You pulled away, walking over to a dresser on the other side of the room. As you rummaged through the drawer, you heard the sound of clothes hit the floor. The thought of how he looked made you sweat.

You turned around, rope in hand. You slowly made your way back over to the bed where he sat again, this time clothesless. Except for the white hat that sat atop his head.

Your gaze made its way to in-between his thighs, there laid his half hard cock. You smiled to yourself and brung the ropes to his now together wrists, then tied them above his head.

"Too tight?" You asked, pulling at the restraints lightly. "No." He said. "It's okay." You pulled yourself back and threw the rope towards the dresser, leaving the mess for later. You leaned into him again, using one hand to cradle his cheek, the other to stroke his hard on.

He moaned into your mouth and bucked his hips up into your hand. You immediately pulled away. He whined at the loss. "You should know better sweetheart." You stated, and he mumbled an apology. You brought yourself down so you sat right infront of his cock. You looked up before taking your tongue and licking from the base to the tip.

He whimpered and tossed his head back. "F-fuck angel.." satisfied with this reaction, you brought yourself down completely onto him, his tip hit the back of your throat. He moaned loudly and squeezed his eyes shut. You set a steady pace as you bobbed your head up and down pulling a variety of sounds from his throat.

You felt his cock begin to twitch in your mouth. He was close. "Shit-! D-don't stop, please, please don't." Right as you felt he was about to release, you pulled off, leaving him a mess and unsatisfied.

He whined like a child and groaned. You grabbed where the rope was connected to the top of the bed and untied it. He thought you were letting him go but boy was he wrong, very wrong.

"Scoot back." You instructed. He reluctantly did what you said, still whining about being denied. Once he was by the headboard, you tied him up once again, but now he was more comfortable.

He sprawled himself out before you, showing every part of his beautiful pale body. You got off the bed and started to take your clothes off as well. Once you were naked, as he was, you got back up onto the bed.

Sat on your knees infront of him and leaned forward, grabbing his hat off his head and placing it on your own. "So pretty." He praised as you brought your hand down to your pussy and slid your fingers in between your wet folds. Lucifer couldn't help but be in a trance at the sight infront of him. You were so beautiful, you could make him cum just by the way you looked at him.

You pulled your fingers away. They were now covered in your slick. You took those fingers, and placed them in Lucifer's mouth to suck, which he gratefully did. He moaned at the taste of you, wanting nothing more than to eat you out till you couldn't think straight.

Keeping your fingers in his mouth, you crawled your way up so you hovered right above his hips. Without a second thought, you slammed down onto him. He cried out, biting down on your fingers and squeezing his eyes shut.

You moaned too, his tip hitting your g-spot perfectly. "Good boy.." you whispered, bringing your free hand to run your hand down his chest. "You look so pretty like this." His cheeks flushed and you smiled warmly at him.

He bucked his hips up, and in response, you brought your hand down to his thigh, hard. This resulted in him crying out. You pulled your fingers out of his mouth, refusing to move.

He began to plead with you. He already was denied before, he couldn't handle this too. "Please baby," he whined "Please please please, I promise I'll be good. I'm so so sorry angel. Please fuck me."

Seeing him such a pleading mess infront of you turned you on more than anything could. You did as he asked and slowly sat up, feeling him drag inside you before slamming down again. This continued, moans and other sounds coming from you both. You quickly began to speed up.

"Yes yes yes yes, don't stop." He cried, "W-wanna touch you." Sweat dripped down his features as he tried everything he could to get loose.

You yourself also felt that coil starting to tighten, your pace brutal and quick. You had to bring a hand to your head to make sure the hat stayed on. "S-shit Luci, gonna.. cum." You said, tossing your head back in pleasure. "So, close.." You both said, each orgasm hitting at the same time. Your body shook and he rutted into you, a deep groan coming from his chest as hot ropes of his cum painted your insides.

You collapsed onto him, still having tiny spurts from the after-effects. His gasps as well as your pants could be heard. After about a minute or so, you sat up and smiled weakly at him. He did the same. You leaned down and grabbed him by his face.

"Promise me that you'll never keep me waiting like that again, okay?" You said sternly. He loved when you were dominant. "Yes darling." He whispered and you placed a peck to his lips before grabbing his wrists and untying him.

His arms shot out towards you, and pulled you down onto his chest, the hat falling off in the process. He peppered your face with kisses, holding you so tight that you couldn't get up even if you wanted too.

You giggled and laid your head on his chest, his cock still embedded inside you. He flipped the pair of you over so he was now laying on you. He buried his face in your boobs with a giddy grin on his face.

"I love you so much my darling." He mumbled from your chest. You smiled and kissed his head, your hand rubbing his back.

"I love you too, cowboy."

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

This definitely isn't my best work, but I used past tense, which I normally don't use. I hope it still sounded decent regardless of how unput together it was. Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed! I have another fic in the works that'll hopefully be out within the next week. Love you guys🫶🏻

Here's the original drawings

[notakoala]

Title cover by me, please ask for permission to use. Not the panel but the editing :)

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Todoroki's sick?

This is just a drabble for the moment but if I post this hooray you get to see what sort of lovesick lonely relationship I want.

ITS A COMPLETE SLOWBURN PLEASE DONT HATE ME

Contains: Vomit, Illness, Spoilers.

Todoroki gets sick? Thank god your there to help him you pitiful bastard.

Your in your last year of U.A, just after your exams he gets sick. Where did Shouto go?

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"Todoroki Shouto." The same monotone voice came from your tired teacher, had his eyebags dropped even more? His eyes had surely gotten more red. He looks stoned, you wish you could be too.

Zoning out for a second too long you feel a glare from your teacher who had probably said your name mote than three times by now, flicking his scarf to slide right past your ear, a whooshing sound which jolted you out of your zoned out state.

It was the same silence, the same silence that had gone on for the past three days. Time doesn't normally matter to you, the world moves either to quick or too slow so you do your own thing.

"Focus or I'll make you run laps."

You flinch and look directly at your teacher who had moved towards your desk, black eyes slowly emitting the gloomy red that scared you sometimes. Sitting up straighter then you had ever sat you gave him a small smile before nodding a small apology. Thank god he was tired or he might have probably killed you by now.

"Ah, [Your Name]. Is there something bothering you?" Uraraka asked beside you quietly as you all began writing. To which you turned to see her eyes locked with yours.

You respond with a quick 'hm' shaking your head trying not to worry your friend, shifting your focus back to your writing as you tried not to think about specific things.

'I wonder where Todoroki is...'

'Is he with his dad? Maybe his mum...'

You shake your head and pinch your arm to refocus feeling a hint of heat on the tips of your ears. Your eyes staring intensely at the word 'mixture'.

'Fuck, that's also like him.'

Rubbing your temples now, and running a hand behind the back of your neck and pressing down on the sore spot that had grown increasingly through the pressure of homework and assignments, Hero work too.

A low muttering came from Midoryia, he was back to his usual ways even while Mr Aizawa spoke in his colourless voice. And Ashido and Kaminari were whispering to each other trying to get some form of idea as to what to write.

If you were completely honest you didn't know what to write either, the work was something about Physical and Quirk development, which was a pain when you had learned majority of it in middle school.

Yet you didn't know what to write, even if you knew about what you were learning, you still didn't know what to write. Maybe it was the three assignments that you turned in earlier today, maybe you were just burnt out.

Aizawa's words were now muffled through your thoughts as you doodled over your pages of lined, neat work. They weren't the best but they were cute enough to stay in your book.

"But sir this is too difficult!" Mina and Denki whined in unison, snapping you out of your stage of drawing and listening into the bickering, Bakugou yelling at them from across the room.

"Shuddap. If you werent so stupid maybe you would understand!"

Aizawa sighed yet again, sleep deprived probably, maybe an insomniac. "Bakugou, get back to your own work."

After a miniature altercation between Aizawa and Bakugou, it ended with Bakugou going quiet and grumbling as he continued working and Aizawa scolding Mina and Denki.

Uraraka was giggling beside you, covering her smirk and lowering her head further than what it usually is and trying to compose herself. Her brown hair was definitely longer than what it was in your first year, down to her shoulders now.

She complained that it was getting too long and that she needed to cut it but she didn't have the money, so when Momo offered to pay she declined and said that her hair was fine the way it was.

Even if she was your friend she's a little too anxious about money, even if it was ten dollars. You knew it was because of her background but she's going to be paid a shit ton in the future, if she continued with her path of being a pro.

You ponder on the small parts that you were thinking of before. 'Three days.', was the main thought as you were distracted yet again, which ended with the sake old lecture about listening and paying attention by Aizawa.

***

"[Your Name!" Tsuyu and Mina ran after you, the entire of U.A walking the same paths as the rest of the years. It was your last year, last year of all of this. It sparks an anxious pain in your chest but at the same time motivation.

You turn to face your two friends and Mina practically jumps into your arms and nearly takes the both of you to the floor. And now your winded as Tsu drags Mina off you.

"Are you going to come to dinner tonight?" Tsu asks, her croaky voice comes from her, shorter than Mina and you but thankfully taller than that purple balled idiot. He hurt your neck often when he gave you creepy smiles and all his perverted stuff.

A shrug comes from your shoulders which ends with a pampering Mina begging you not to stay cooped up in your room for the rest of winter holidays. A short answer came from your lips and Tsu's tongue was sticking out as she smiled warmly.

"Probably not, I gotta get this resume in."

Tsu nodded and pulled at Mina's shirt and trying to usher her away as to not hold you back any longer. She might not have spoke many words but she's very expressive through her emotions.

Eventually she was picked off bit by bit, and the dormitory was around a minute away walking. You were tired, but now having to write up a resume that you were planning on doing a week earlier, didn't happen. The procrastination got to you before you even started.

So you began walking, thinking about how to start on your resume even though it was simple, obviously you had to start with your full name, address... 'Would it be the dorm number or just U.A?' The thought ran through your mind before getting thrown into the many other thoughts.

You gave a small wave to Sato who was watering some of the flowers that the class planted earlier this year. He waved back only a few seconds after you, and by then you were already at the steep of the stairs. Pushing the doors open to the smell of Bakugou's food.

Ignoring the smell you looked at the elevator before taking the stairs, you were only on the first floor anyway. It was a flight of stairs, the least you could do is not be lazy.

When you unlocked your door, the small 'rodent' so you claim it to be meowed and purred against your leg.

"Hey Asana, what'cha doing pretty?" You ran a hand along the curled soft hair of your cat, you weren't really supposed to have pets in the dorms but they didn't have to know about him.

Sure, Asana was a male cat with a girl's name, but he didn't know that. He can't understand English, sometimes that makes you suspicious of him. So you shut the door behind you, picking him up and smooching his head three times before he places a paw to your nose.

"You stink."

Asana responded with a long meow, of course. He wanted food, you place him on the ground and sort him out. Flopping onto your bed with a groan of relief when the softness of the cushion collides with your back.

In less than a second, the little rodent you loved so much had jumped on you and was making biscuits on your chest, putting all his weight on his front paws, making you wheeze in pain, how could a cat be so heavy?

He purred loudly and soon after fell asleep on you, which left you scrolling on your phone and typing up this resume that you definitely needed to do before you left school. And of course it would probably take three seconds to finish, but you had sooooo many other things to do. One of them was steal Bakugou's recipe cause damn his cooking is amazing, he would mind so you would have to do it in secret.

Did he even have a recipe to follow? It would surprise you if you didn't, maybe Sato could help. Bakugou never seemed to mind him helping with cooking, he'd prefer him cleaning or doing something else. But only a grumble would be his response.

Thinking over your plan you knew it wouldn't help, you were already on social media and Mina had posted a class photo, Sato was there as well. Damn, he probably ran so he wasn't late.

It was already dark, maybe you could order in. You didn't have much energy to cook anyway, Bakugou definitely wouldn't waste his precious time cooking for you anyway, you were 'a pain in the ass'.

'Ah, I forgot about Todoroki.'

The thought that crossed through your mind from earlier today had reached you again, Midoryia said that he wasn't out with family. Iida said that he had probably become ill, with his continuous efforts at school.

"Asana, should I message him?" You ask your cat, he wasn't going to respond. Either a meow or his ears twitching would be the response.

He was dead asleep. On your chest, curled ears twitching when you sighed deeply and looked at the name on your screen, 'Shouto'. He had a small emoji next to his name, thanks to your creativity of putting what their quirks were as emoji's.

After a long groan and thinking you fumble around messaging him quickly.

'Hey Todoroki, I was wondering how you are doing since you haven't been at school.'

Sent.

Fuck.

Squeezing Asana'a pretty white fur he responded back with a low purr. Three minutes go by, feels like forever and the embarrassment of messaging someone you don't usually message. Ah, this is shit.

Your phone lights up, the notification carxges your eye.

Shouto 🧊🔥

'I'm unwell.'

Dry text. As usual, it didn't bother you as much as it used to, he's gotten better since first year.

'Would you like me to get you something?'

You message back immediately, the heat rushing to your face.

Shouto🧊🔥

'Porridge and Orange juice?'

Was all he replied before you sat up, Asana jumping off and getting comfy on your bed, maybe you should change. Sweats and a singlet? Yep.

Grey pants and a black singlet was what you wore, bringing up a hot bowl of porridge and a carton of Orange juice that was in the fridge, wasn't yours but you'll buy another one for whoever complains.

He was on the fifth floor, wasn't a preference, you would complain if you had to go up five floors.

You reach his room that was labelled with his name, Todoroki. And you knock on the door, it was dead quiet. Usually you would be able to hear Jiro playing her instruments but she was gone as well.

The door clicks open and you see Todoroki, taller than you. His hair a mess and both of his hair colours mixing with eachother, he has showered. But he looks like a mess.

"Can I come in?"

You ask quietly and he covers his cough with his elbow, nodding and turning around so you can go inside his dorm. Very traditional, you saw it a few times while studying with Sero. He cleans regularly, but it's gotten messy since he's been sick.

There was a bucket next to his bed, has he been really sick? Maybe Gastro.

"Sit back down I don't wanna make you run around or something." You usher him back to his futon, you have the kindest expression on and aren't trying to push him around too much.

The room has a hint of sickness in it too, maybe you would get sick too. Oh well.

He sits down with his legs crossed and looks up at you, his face puffy and his hair still a mess, he looks like his gaze is a blur and you gently give him the porridge.

"Have you been eating?"

This is awkward, first you had to message him and now your stuck in his room, with him when he is sick. Your eyes wander and he eats the porridge slowly, blowing on the spoon a few times and switching off his phone. He nods to your question, responding back in a sick and croaked speech.

"Mhm, not much."

Your breath tightened, his voice was usually deepish and monotone but when he's sick. Jesus, gonna take the life outta you.

In less than a second that all changes when he leaps towards the plastic bucket beside his futon and gags profusely, throwing up the porridge he had eaten mere seconds earlier, his stomach trying to throw up on an empty stomach now.

You quickly make your way towards him and kneel down beside him, he puts a hand out to stop you but you move his hair out of the way. It had gotten longer throughout the years but your pretty sure he's been missing his hair appointments.

"Come on Todoroki! Why didn't you let us know." Grumbling beside his ear, he wipes his mouth before sitting back up again, washing his mouth out with the cup of water beside the bucket and spitting it into the bucket.

He goes to stand up, but you keep him sat down, giving him the carton of orange juice that you had brought earlier, were you holding that while keeping his hair out of the way?

"What are you doing?" He asks in the same groggy probably drugged up voice while watching you pick up the vomit filled bucket and taking it to the toilet in his room.

You look back at him, pushing the toilet seat up and pouring the foul substance into the toilet. Flushing it before closing the lid. "You need to rest. Your not getting up unless I'm gone."

Strong tone and using the shower head in the bathroom to rinse the bucket, you turn your head to see if he agrees.

"It's only a stomach bug."

"A stomach bug that makes you look like your about to die."

"Every illness makes you look like that."

"Your not getting up unless you need to go to the toilet. Your quirk is going to drain your energy so don't use that either."

He sighs, not wanting to argue and knowing you were kind of right, he hated to admit it but he actually liked that you cared for him like that. He had gotten used to looking out for himself but when his friends and classmates helped him he realised he also had to look out for others.

"Fine."

He couldn't help it however. He wasn't that sick, right?

You sit down beside him on his futon and look at the half eaten bowl of porridge, he was drinking the juice in hand and staring at you with those oh so beautiful eyes. But it's when he leans over and rests his head on your shoulder that makes you freeze.

"Thanks."

Was all he spoke before closing his eyes and breathing in your scent, you were confused as to why he had done so. Maybe he liked you? Is he clingy when he's sick?

You chuckle and pat his back, he was already relaxed into you but your physical touch made him melt, his body weight becoming evident on your body. So you use majority of your strength to keep sitting up, while adjusting to his weight.

His eyes were closed against you and his breathing became quieter and quieter until you almost could mistake him for being dead. It was soon you realised you were both breathing at the same pace. Did that always happen when two were so close?

Spotting a damp rag on the floor, you pick it up to feel if it is still cold, it wasn't. You couldn't move yet because he was practically attached to you. Jolting when you moved even an inch, so now you were laying down beside him on the single futon. His head against your arm and his arm along your waist.

This wasn't like him, for sure. Was he mistaking you for someone else? Your hoping he's not, cause whoever he would be thinking about like this. Wasn't you.

"It's cold." He speaks quietly, it's only then that you realise the chill in the air. It was already night? But the sun was up, you checked your phone that was sat in your pocket. Your eyes widen at the time. Two hours?!

Two hours had gone by and you could have finished this resume. You couldn't have wished for anything better, or worse? Todoroki Shouto was asleep on you, but you needed to finish this resume.

"Todoroki-"

"Shouto."

"Uh- Alright then. Shouto, I have to get this resume done."

He grumbled and geld onto you tighter, looking up at you, oh lord, he was adorable. Looking up at you with his opposite coloured eyes and pouting ever so slightly.

"Just do it in here."

"Ok then."

Why would you want to argue with him like that? You felt a sense of pity because he was sick, but also because he actually wanted you to stay with him? Your living a dream that you so desperately don't want to end. Maybe if he was well this would send you head over heels.

***

"Hey Todoroki! Where's [Your Name]?" Mina asks with her usual bubbly attitude, staring up at the taller boy with her 'raccoon eyes' as others have said.

Todoroki looks up from the book he was writing in, locking eyes with Mina, Asui was standing next to her with her frog-like tongue sticking out as he responded, scratching the side of his neck.

"She's not feeling well."

"What?!" Mina exclaims, her hands coming to the top of her pink curls quickly as she looked shocked. "She didn't even go anywhere! How did she get sick?"

"She came to visit me when I was sick." He replied back in a monotone speech and got back to writing whatever was on the board. Not knowing how excited Mina looked when she turned to Asui and giggled running off.

'Did I say something wrong?'

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This story is officially FINSIHED! I know I definitely lost some sort of motivation towards the end, I hate slowburns but I do say so myself. This is alright.

Proofread!

Thank you for all the support I have been getting! d=(^o^)=b

[donniesgirlie]

I’ve reacntly just read your “kisses and kips” and I freaking loved it! But I was wondering what if reader reacted differently after the line “Y/n, I'm perfectly capable of determining what I do or don't need. Just go to bed, I'll be there soon.”

As someone who doesn’t really handle “getting in the way” of someone else’s business very well, is terrified if they are bothering someone, specially a special someone (like an s/o) I’d froze up after that line, even if his tone isn’t directly at reader per say, I know I’d probably closed off to the point of leaving and sleeping back to my place out of fear I’ve made Donnie upset and getting in his way. Do you mind making a scenario out off this reaction? If not, you can ignore this request

Thank you!

First request, LET'S GOOOO!!

Me too - I hate the thought of even potentially being a bother😭

Hope you enjoy!

Original

Kisses and Kips - Alternate Version: Donatello x F! Reader

.

"Donnieeeeee~" You pull at the side of the doorframe, swinging yourself in and out of the lab as you draw out his name.

He had told you he'd join you in bed an hour ago under the guise of "5 more minutes." You get why he is working so hard; you do. With the recent uptick of Foot Clan activity, he needed to get the truck up and running again as soon as possible, but goddamn it- you just want to cuddle your boyfriend. You don't think it's too big of an ask, especially considering he's been working on that damn gadget for days now with little to no breaks.

With a sigh and light shake of his head, Donnie sets down his soldering iron. "Yes, love?"

You can hear the edge to his voice, strained from disuse and tilted with frustration. He slips his glasses off to pinch between his eyes, exhaustion clear on his face.

"Come to bed?"

He slips his glasses back on and swivels back to his work. "I can't. I need to finish this."

You let go of the frame and walk over to him. "You've been up over 48 hours, you're clearly exhausted, and you need rest - even if just for a little bit."

"Y/n, I'm perfectly capable of determining what I do or don't need. Just go to bed, I'll be there soon." You know he's not upset with you, but his sharp tone makes your heart drop; you can feel your stomach turning sour and your mouth going dry.

"Oh." You swallow, feeling your eyes start to prick with the threat of tears. Your voice comes out in a whisper as you turn to leave the lab, "okay..."

You know it's stupid, that he's been frustrated with the truck, and you shouldn't take it personally, but logic doesn't quell the small voice in the back of your mind whispering that he's upset with you and that you're smothering him. You calmly walk back to his room, ready to hide your tears in your pillow.

-

It's hours later when Donatello decides to come to bed. The first rays of sun are surely starting to peak over New York's surface, but all he can think about is you.

He knows he was harsh; he knows that you didn't deserve the cutting tone when you were simply expressing your concern for his well-being. He has just been so frustrated with the truck - the nunchucks are sticking and he can't figure out why despite taking them apart three times now, and the grill won't properly shut after shooting manhole covers. Not to mention the various other upgrades that he's itching to start but can't until the main problems are fixed.

He refuses to use that as an excuse, though. You're not his verbal punching bag that he can toss attitude at whenever he's inconvenienced.

So, as much as he hates to wake you, he refuses to go to bed without apologizing.

His heart breaks when his sits on the edge of the bed and looks at your sleeping face. Dried tear tracks streak your face as you grip his pillow.

Reaching a hand out, Donnie gently shakes your shoulder. "Y/n... Honey, please wake up?"

After a few coaxes and prods, you finally stir - slightly curling into yourself before stretching back out. "Dee?" You mutter, eyes slowly blinking open. "What time is it?"

"It's still early," he replies easily, moving his hand to lightly trace his thumb along your cheekbone. "I just didn't want to sleep without telling you that I'm sorry. I was upset because one of the circuit boards was giving me trouble, but I shouldn't have snapped at you; I'm sorry, love..."

"It's okay," you say, scooting closer to drape your arm over his lap, lightly nuzzling your face into his side.

"It's not," Donatello pulls from your hold just long enough to properly lay next to you before pulling you back against his plastron. "You didn't deserve to be yelled at just because I was annoyed."

His hand splays out on your back, rubbing up and down it as he buries his face in your hair.

He feels the soft press of your lips to his collar before your muffled voice mumbles, "Well, I forgive you," against his skin.

[wheels-of-despair]

Smoke Break Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Hellfire is holed up in your basement on prom night, but you can't sleep. Might as well drag Eddie outside for a smoke break. Contains: Excessive snoring, giggle fits, smoking, possible monster encounter, Evil Woman taking charge and demanding that I slap a MDNI warning on this baby. (Don't test me, ageless blogs, I'll block you.) Words: 1k

Somebody is snoring way too loud.

You lie awake in your dark basement, trying to remember who's where so you know whose pancakes are getting dropped on the floor in the morning.

Hellfire usually spent prom night in Grant's basement, but now that there was a girl in their midst, his mom decided she didn't want to set a bunch of teenagers loose in an unsupervised environment. So the anti-prom celebration was being held in yours this year. Very kinky stuff: pizza, an unreasonable amount of snack food, Carrie, Prom Night, whatever else was on the cheap horror shelf at Family Video, and a room full of nerdy virgins… plus you and Eddie.

The last movie had ended an hour ago, and everyone who'd made it through decided to crash. You'd snuggled up next to Eddie and slept for what you estimated to be half an hour before someone's loud-ass snores jolted you awake.

And by extension, jolted Eddie awake.

You both laid there silently for a few minutes, nuzzling into each other and hoping to get back to sleep. Every time you got close, another snore would rip through the room. It was comically loud; the kind of snore that should probably be accompanied by a cartoon saw and a log. Eddie must've realized this too, because soon, every snore would send you both shaking in a fit of silent giggles. Giving up on sleep entirely, you decide to pass the time a different way.

"You wanna go out and smoke?" you whisper.

"Yeah," Eddie answers, and you begin untangling yourselves and rising off the floor. You tiptoe through the pile of sleeping nerds until you reach the basement door, then slip out.

It's unusually warm outside, but half the appeal of a late-night smoke break is the cuddling. You sit next to him on the concrete garden wall. He slips his arm around your back once he lights up, and you rest your head on his shoulder as you pass the cigarette back and forth in the light of the full moon.

About halfway through, you start craving something else.

You begin drawing lazy circles on his pajama-covered thigh, slowly working upward.

"Don't do that," he warns, blowing his smoke away from you.

"Don't do what?" you ask innocently, nuzzling your nose into his neck.

"They'll hear us."

"Not if we're quiet." You plant a sweet kiss on his jawline and squeeze the inside of his thigh.

He sighs and stubs out his cigarette in the dirt. You've won. He turns his head for a smoky kiss, which you happily give him.

Once you've got him breathing heavier and kissing you with urgency, you pull away, slithering to the ground between his legs.

But diving right in would be too easy on him.

You pull up his faded Dio shirt and begin trailing soft, sweet kisses down his bare stomach. He begins to moan softly, hands gripping the concrete.

You palm him through his pajama pants, to see if he's ready, and his breath catches. Oh yeah. He's ready. You slip a finger beneath the waistband, and he forgets that he's supposed to be being quiet.

"Oh shit, oh fuck," his stream of consciousness flows between pants.

"Eddie," you hiss, pulling back and looking up at him.

"Yeah?" he breathes.

"Do you want this?"

"Fuck yeah."

"Then shut the fuck up."

"Yes ma'am."

In silence, you start over, hiking his shirt back up and working your way back down his stomach with kisses. His breathing is rough, but he is capable of shutting up. You'll have to keep that in mind.

When your trail of kisses reaches the elastic waistband of his pajama pants again, you take the edge between your teeth, pull back, and let it snap on him. He jumps, then fumbles to help you out.

He moans when your mouth closes around him.

You release him and look up with a glare.

"Please," he whines.

You lift a hand to cover his mouth and get back to work, listening to Eddie's muffled moans. When he starts writhing too much, you remove your hand from his mouth and sink your nails into his hips to hold him still.

"I'm gonna… I'm gonna…"

And then, he does.

Wiping your mouth and rejoining him on the garden wall, you sit facing him this time. You wrap a leg around his backside, and he slumps into you. You chuckle and hold him, half-flopped over with his head on your shoulder.

"You okay?" you whisper.

He nods sleepily and wraps his arms around your waist.

"Think they heard us?"

"They probably heard YOUR loud ass," you tease, rubbing up and down his back.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

"No, you're not," you chuckle, and he buries his face in your neck, knowing you're right.

You sit there quietly for a few minutes, just enjoying the alone time and the sound of crickets.

Then you hear something crunching through the woods in your direction. You both sit bolt upright, scanning the dark tree line in front of you with wide eyes.

"Uh… wannagobackin?" you ask quickly.

"Yup." Eddie jumps up and pulls you toward the basement door. Once inside, you lock both the knob and the deadbolt, then try to find your way back to your little nest without stepping on anyone.

Miraculously, you get there without waking anyone up… or so you thought. Still a little rattled from whatever kind of monster was on its way to eat you a few minutes ago, you cling to Eddie's side and stare into the dark, refusing to close your eyes.

"You okay?" he whispers. You respond by squeezing him tighter. He puts a finger under your chin and draws your face to meet his for a comforting kiss. "How 'bout now?"

"Not quite. Try again." You can feel him smile against you as he obliges.

"How 'bout now?"

"How 'bout you two are fucking gross," Grant grumbles from the spot you'd tried to isolate in the dark some time before.

"What was that, Grant?" Gareth chimes in. "I can't hear you, I had to shove my drumsticks in my ears."

"Come on guys, they're young and in looove," Jeff says in a singsong voice.

"Well, since we don't have to be quiet anymore..." Eddie lays a loud, wet kiss on your lips, and you laugh as everyone else pretends to gag.

Aside from the near-death experience, not a bad way to spend prom night in Hawkins.

[reverie-starlight]

fluffy hawks drabble-turned-mini-fic because i love him. if you think the feather necklace trope is overused, this is probably not the place for you. also important to note: let’s say for the sake of my sanity that this takes place before seasons 5/6, okay? I know what's up in the manga, I'm just ignoring it to be happy :)

fem!reader, no physical descriptions aside from wearing dresses + enjoying it and reader could be perceived as chubby, but no explicit mentions of body type!! shopping for clothes is just hard and it’s briefly reflected on in this. lots of soft fluff. pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, etc) I just got a bunch of cute dresses and now I'm gonna make it hawks' problem. this is like. disgustingly soft and so incredibly self indulgent avert your eyes. please. very smiley and giggly. a bit suggestive at the end bc I have no self-control.

soft laughter and the sound of rustling sheets were the only noises heard in your shared bedroom that afternoon. surprisingly enough for both of you, keigo had finished his patrol early and caught you on the way up to your apartment. almost immediately after walking in and getting your shoes and coats off, he had grabbed you and sped off to your room, dropping you on the bed and launching an attack.

you were both so happy to have some extra time together that it boosted your energy immensely, resulting in a impromptu play fight. it wasn't very often that you got to be so playful anymore with things picking up for him at work. you were both still young, so when you got the chance to act like it, you definitely took it.

"keigo!" you shrieked as he pressed a slew of quick, light kisses over your face and down your neck. a ticklish sensation was left in their wake, even more so because of his facial hair. he just chuckled and rubbed his face against your skin to draw out more laughter. feathers flew around and brushed against your cheeks and other places he couldn't focus his attention on.

his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist to limit your movements, but you still squirmed around to try and get the upper hand. eventually, after a few more kisses to your chest and stomach, he loosened his grip to give you a fighting chance and you flipped on top of him, making sure not to hurt his wings, which ruffled in excitement.

"so what are you gonna do with me now, sweetheart?" he grinned up at you, eyes positively glowing with mirth.

you felt your own gaze go soft and cupped his face with your hands, rubbing your thumbs over the apples of his cheeks. "I dunno," you murmured, keeping your voice low in volume and sweet in its delivery.

your eyes wandered over his features, admiring him in the golden rays of sun coming from your window. "you're so pretty, keigo..."

he went a little red but smiled softly. "that's my line, angel," and then he leaned up to steal another kiss from you.

eventually you both settled down, laying in bed together and talking about your days. keigo told you about having to chase down a bank robber and some purse snatchers, and how a little old lady asked for help getting her cat down from a tree. you snickered at the thought.

the atmosphere turned serene as you both laid there. you were close enough that your breaths mixed and your foreheads touched, his hands absentmindedly running over your soft skin and the curves of your body. "so how was your day?" he whispered.

"it was okay. I had a shorter day at work, so I went shopping and I got some new clothes..." you sat up and walked over to where the bags were discarded before he tossed you on the bed. "want to see them?"

he whined a little when you walked away but quickly sat up as well, nodding his head at the second part. "I'd never pass up the chance to see you trying on clothes, baby, who exactly do you take me for?"

you smiled and shook your head fondly. "alright, alright. sit tight, I'll be back," you said and headed to the connecting bathroom, ignoring his grumbling about how you were depriving him of getting to see the best part.

and when you came back out, in a pretty little sundress, twirling so he could get the full effect, he stared at you in awe.

he knew from past shopping trips and many teary conversations with you that finding clothes you actually felt confident in could be… difficult. of course he thought you looked amazing in everything, and if he had it his way, he’d buy every single outfit you even glanced at, but there was just something so alluring about seeing you happy and proud in clothes you felt good in.

“such a pretty girl…” he murmured to no one in particular. it looked a bit like he was in a trance as he took in your figure. attempting to hold back a shy smile from forming at his words, you looked down at the ground to keep yourself from getting too flustered.

he grinned and held his hand out for you once your eyes met his again. taking it, he gently pulled you towards him to stand in between his legs and rested his chin on your sternum, not once breaking eye contact. his hands moved to toy with the hem of your dress.

“I mean it, you’re absolutely stunning. the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on... my pretty girl.”

you couldn’t hold back your smile this time and he adored the way your lips curled upwards, how your eyes flitted around the room, staring at anything but him, clearly affected by his words.

he sent a feather out to tilt your chin back towards him and he was suddenly reminded of something.

“ah right- I have something for you,” he dug something out of his pocket and proudly presented you with what looked like a thin brown faux leather string…

with a bright red feather attached to it.

you gasped and took the item into your hands, closely inspecting it. you treated it with the utmost care, as if it were your most prized possession. it very well might’ve been.

the string had a clasp at the back to make it easier to put on and remove, and it looped around the... stem? bone? (you made a mental note to clarify with keigo later) of the feather multiple times. it was secured with a thin silver wire to ensure it wouldn’t slip out before the rope continued on to the other end of the hook.

he actually had one of his feathers turned into a necklace for you.

“keigo, I… this is incredible, oh my goodness!” you beamed at him and leaned down to properly hug him.

he was incredibly perceptive. of course he knew that all those times you had jokingly asked him about keeping one of his feathers with you were actually silent requests. even if you’d never outright ask him, he could tell you longed to have a piece of him with you. especially when he had to wipe your tears before a long mission and you stared longingly at his wings. he took pride in the fact that you found comfort in them.

who was he to deny the love of his life? what’s one feather from his arsenal gone, anyway? it was going towards the cause of making you happy, and most importantly, there was the added bonus of keeping you safe.

“here, let me put it on for you,” he said, gesturing for you to sit on his lap and hand him the necklace.

you got settled and he happily clasped the ends of the string together at the back of your neck. the bottom of the feather rested just above the neckline of your dress and you touched it gingerly.

as soon as it rested against your skin, he took control of it and ran it across your cheek, making you giggle and pull away a bit.

“thank you, keigo, I love it.” you turned around on his lap to face him and pressed your lips against his.

he hummed into the kiss and pulled away with a sly smile. “of course, baby. besides,” he toyed with one of the straps on your shoulder. “it goes with your new dress, don’t you think?”

you put your arms around his shoulders, gently stroking the arches of his wings and nodded in agreement. he placed his hands on the tops of your thighs and gently squeezed. “wanna see if it goes with my other dresses, too?”

“oh, absolutely. but..." he shifted a bit and pulled you closer, so that you were fully pressed against him. "I don't think I've appreciated this one enough... what do you think?" he slowly trailed his eyes up from your legs to meet yours.

you tilted your neck forward to rest your forehead against his. "I think that you'll find some of the other things I bought more interesting than a sundress, keigo."

his sly smile turned into something more eager and you laughed when he dramatically flopped backwards on the bed with a groan. "you're too good for me, angel, seriously. what did I ever do to deserve you?"

you offered him a shrug and a tiny smile of your own. "exist."

his eyes widened a fraction and you could tell that your words deeply affected him from the way they welled up. he cleared his throat to cover up any emotion in his voice and sat up again to cup your cheek, murmuring "sweet girl, you'd better hurry up and try on those other dresses, because if you're not off my lap in three seconds, I'm gonna pounce, and we're not leaving this room 'til we're both spent."

butterflies erupted within you and he watched fondly as you gasped and ran off to keep your little fashion show up and running.

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

BONUS:

the following days after receiving his gift were... not surprising in the slightest.

you always knew when keigo was taking a break or in his office doing paperwork because he took every opportunity to bug you with his (your) feather.

every. single. one.

and you also knew before he even had the necklace made that if he were to ever give you one, this would likely happen. he was a menace, after all. part of his charm, he always said.

at first it was a bit embarrassing having to fight with a feather in front of your coworkers (who weren't aware you were dating a pro hero, so they probably thought you were some fangirl who bought faulty, cheap merch of his), but it very quickly became endearing.

cause yeah, if he knew you were going to be around people he'd make life difficult for you and then take all of your whines and complaints with a mischievous grin when he walked through the door, clearly lying when he said he'd take it down a notch.

but when he knew you were alone? or having a particularly stressful day? all you had to do was lightly tug on the necklace. upon your signal, he'd immediately take control of the feather and bring it up to caress your cheek, run along your neck or tap your nose.

honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way. you adored his playful side, and he knew he could get away with most things via feather necklace. even if it was only because you were too flustered to scold him for anything anymore by time he got back. complaints soon turned into requests for cuddles and wanting to return all the affection you received.

the feather necklace was a gift for you, sure, but it definitely benefitted him as well.

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

I edited this super quickly, so apologies if there's any mistakes! I'll find them eventually when I look back at this fic and end up contemplating my choices to post without properly editing :')

hope you enjoyed!! <3

[hrts4scarr]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 (kr7) 𝐱𝐨 ୧˚

★ requested﹕yes/no — summary﹕in which you share chocolate, childhood memories and maybe a few kisses — warnings﹕another shit ton of pure fluff, crying but not necessarily angst, google translated finnish, probably not well proof read, kissing (gagg!!), childhood best friends to lovers, family friends, use of 'y/n,' tell me if there's any i missed!! — pairing﹕kimi raikkonen 7 x reader — w/c﹕600+ ★ start a/n﹕hihii! second fic with my fav retired driver. i srsly dont see enough fics with him, so i decided to try to write my own. im so busy with schoolwork n i should be doin it rn buuuuuuuut i couldn't get this idea out of my head 🤭🤭 ౨ৎ 𝑫𝑻 (tag list) ;; none yet but open :)

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౨ - 6 yrs old - ৎ

Little Kimi stood over you as you cried on the floor of your bedroom after you hurt your hand from drawing.

"Y/n?" Kimi crossed his arms.

You sniffle, trying to stop the tears. "..yes, Kimi?"

"Do you like Kit Kats?" You nod in answer, a little confused as to why he might be asking that.

Kimi takes out something from his pocket. "Have a Kit Kat." He takes off the wrapper, breaking the Kit Kat in half. He offers one Kit Kat piece to you. You hesitate before taking the Kit Kat, giving it a small bite.

Kimi sits in front of you in a criss-cross, placing his Kit Kat on the wrapper that layed on the floor next to him. He takes your hurt hand, giving it a little kiss. You wipe your tears with a smile.

"Better?" Kimi asks, a little softer in tone this time.

"Better." You nod, smiling widely. Kimi gives you a small smile, taking a bite of his Kit Kat.

౨ - 11 yrs old - ৎ

You watched from the sofa as Kimi walked into the pantry after a long day of karting. He came out with an unwrapped Kit Kat in his hand.

"Hi, Kimi-Kat." You say, going back to watching the TV.

Kimi tilts his head at you, visibly confused, his eyebrows furrowed. "'Kimi-Kat,' huh?" He asks curiously, in his usual monotone voice.

"Your favourite chocolate, Kit Kat + Kimi = Kimi-Kat!" You giggle from your seat.

You couldn't see it, but Kimi smiled. "Only you're allowed to call me that, then."

౨ - 22 yrs old - ৎ

Kimi throws off his racing suit as he enters your room, shutting the door behind him. You look up from your book as you sat on your bed.

"Bad race?" You ask softly, patting the seat next to you. Kimi flops down next to you.

"Yeah." He mumbled in response, looking at the ceiling as he layed on the bed.

You take something from your snack stash, taking the wrapper and cracking the chocolate in half. "Have a Kit Kat."

Kimi looks at you, then the chocolate in your hand. He gives you a small smile.

"What?" You look at him curiously, the Kit Kat pieces still held out in your hand. "I'll take both pieces if you don't want it. You always give me Kit Kats when I have a bad day. I should return the favour."

Kimi's small smile turns into a grin. He doesn't say anything, but he takes one Kit Kat piece and bites it. You smile at him, placing a bookmark in your book and putting it on your bedside table.

"Better?" You ask softly.

"Mm." He responds, finishing his Kit Kat.

You raise your eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean, Kimi-Kat?"

"I'm better. Ish." He shrugs.

"Kimiiii, what can I do to make it better?" You furrow your eyebrows, pushing some of his hair so you can see his face.

"A kiss."

A kiss?

You can't help but blush.

"Does the look on your face mean I can't get a kiss and my day can't get better?" Kimi smirks at you.

"Asshole. C'mere, Kimi-Kat." You wrap your arms around his neck, your lips meeting in a gentle manner.

Kimi grins against your lips, placing his arms around your waist as he let's you tackle him.

His tongue slides in, both of you tasting the sweet chocolate on eachothers lips.

A few moments later, you pull apart, looking into eachothers eyes. "I love you as much as I love Kit Kats." You giggle.

"I love you as much as anything, kultaseni." Kimi responds with a happy sigh. 'sweetheart'

chocolate love ; fin.

☆ end a/n﹕working on a better cover for fics once im free of school work! have a good day/night, angels <3

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notes, comments, reblogs, feedback and follows are greatly appriciated!

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[marciaillust]

How long does it take for you to finish drawing?

I'm an artist (beginner) and i unconsciously set unrealistic goals for myself and need a reminder of how long it takes to complete a drawing, Thanks.

Hi! In the context you presented it in, that is a really interesting question, so I'll try to approach it thoroughly. I hope I won't make you roll your eyes too much.

Where to start, where to start... I guess the first thing I should say is that there is a difference between time I spend preforming the action of <drawing>, and the time I spent <working> on a particular piece. The first would be counted in hours, the second one - days. I'm a big believer in slowing things down, and giving things time - going through options, gathering research and references, taking breaks every 1h of sitting and drawing - and seeing things through until I achieve the goal I set at the beginning of the process.

The goals are usually different each time: "quick design", "character exploration", "analysis of an artist's linework and experimenting with the knowledge gained", "creating an aesthetically pleasing image", and so on and so forth. Of course I don't write these down like it's a school assignment, but knowing in the back of my head what I'm actually doing helps me manage my expectations. I also enjoy being conscious of why I create - when I was younger regardless of what I was doing I had the thought "AND IT MUST LOOK GOOD AND PRESENTABLE! BECAUSE PEOPLE WILL LOOK!" ...and I think that obsession is the cancer of creative process.

Since the goals for each picture are different, the time I'll spent on achieving each one will be different as well, because the "satisfactory results" lay in different places. For example, the Marcile sketchpage was created in one afternoon, and took approximately 3 hours. The goal was to play around with a brush that has no opacity forcing my lines to be more decisive. I did that and so it is "finished". There's nothing else I want from it.

On the other hand, the cover of Asterism took about 10 days to create, the goal of which was to make "an aesthetically pleasing cover picture taking colour inspiration from the works of (specific list of artists)". I took my time designing it so that it looks aesthetically pleasing, made sure the anatomy is "correct" (a nebulous statement when it comes to stylised humans), took my time masking, and picking colours, and shading. I wanted it to "look good" to my own eyes so if something was not working I would go back, change it, alter it, move it around... that's the wonderful thing about personal art, you can take as long as you like making something satisfactory.

The funny thing is, with what the Asterism cover actually is (a cellshaded image), it could have been done probably in 4 days by the me 4 years ago. But that person was willing to sit 8-10 hours a day to draw with no breaks, she had little social life, and treated herself as a little circus seal performing tricks so that people clap around her, and the clapping was soooo nice because it meant that people remembered her and she mattered. And it worked for her! For long 10 years! Until her arm gave out, and the reality of never being able to draw again became more tangible than ever, and it's been following her like a fog ever since for the past 4 years. The me today works about 4 hours a day and every hour I take about a 30 minute break. I also don't post half the stuff I draw. There is also another aspect that dictates the speed of creating and that is familiarity with the subject matter. The less you know something, the fast you'll draw it! But as you get to know the intricacies of the process, and see all the building blocks, it will start taking *longer* because you will start accounting for every block. But then you'll eventually get familiar with the blocks and so the time spent on a picture will go down again! The cool yet overwhelming thing about art is that, there are always hundreds of building blocks. Form, composition, ambient occlusion, saturation, hue, light balance, line form...... and those are just the *some* of the generalised *categories*. And each category will have it's own subsection of building blocks! And then those blocks will interact with each other to create completely new area of expertise! This is crazy! Marcille sketch page took me only 3 hours to create because I am already quite familiar with linework - I have drawn 3-4 comicbooks worth of linework. This also means I am familiar with believable anatomy, more or less, which got utilised in the Asterism cover - the main bulk of linework got created during a 3h livestream. So.... what's the answer.... "It's all relative" is so unsatisfactory and probably not what you looked for. But you can draw something in 3 days and kill your body over it. Or you can become an expert in a field and dish the same picture out effortlessly in 8 hours. You can also split that 8h block over multiple days bringing you back up to 3 days. You could even add a whole day of visual research which might make your picture only marginally better. And even if we calculate it in terms of raw working time, pen-to-paper, like a self-inflicted capitalist tumor, that time can fluctuate still due to personal visual library and knowledge base. If I asked Tom Fox how long it takes for him to create his sketch pages his answer would probably be downward of 30 minutes. Yet I need whole 3 hours to create something *less* anatomically correct than him. And so here we are at the end of this perhaps unnecessary essay. And all we learned is this: it depends. Dry, not nuanced tl;dr, my personal timings: single sketch - 30mins; single linework pic 1-2h; Cellshaded illust - 16h; Rendered illust: 20-25h.

[themisimagines]

prompt generator: person a and person b sharing a bath content: smut under the cut! - self loving, bathtub shenanigans characters: artem, fem!reader

Thank god it's the weekend. You leave the office at 7, a feat given all that's gone on this week, and pop your head into Celestine's office to say goodbye, thinking you might swing by Artem's office to try and convince him to leave work with you. Unfortunately, he's in Celestine's office already when you look in, and they seem to be in deep conversation.

"Have a good weekend," Celestine chimes. Artem raises his hand in parting. You look wistfully at him, but decide to head home first.

Artem texts you on your way out.

<Wait for me to have dinner. Shouldn't be too much longer, I'll pick up ingredients on the way back.>

Your heart warms. He probably knew that you were looking forward to your first free weekend in weeks, having barely had the time to spend with each other beyond curling up together, exhausted, in bed each night, and blearily getting ready for work in the mornings.

Another text. <Don't eat too many snacks.> Ugh, this man knows you too well.

When you finally reach the home you share with Artem, you can almost literally feel the ache in your neck and shoulders from hunching over documents and screens, so you decide to run a hot bath. It's almost criminal that neither of you spend much time in this bath, with it's beautiful city views and skyline. But to be fair, you both only moved in together three months ago, and that was round about the time work started to pick up again. You even take out a precious bubble bath solution you've been saving for a special occasion, the scent of lavender and hibiscus foaming up underneath the running water.

As the bath runs, you pop in a record on the vintage player Artem picked up from his parents recently, and both of you have been enjoying going to markets searching for records, your recent favourites being jazz ballads, the crackle and pop of these old records invoking a different time entirely. The music drifts into the bathroom as you turn off the taps, stripping down and stepping gingerly into the bath, fragrant steam wafting into your face.

Oh, this is nice. You fiddle a bit with the water temperature before it's finally perfect, and then you sink in, closing your eyes blissfully.

<Tell me why we don't take baths on a daily basis again? Are you home soon, by the way?> You grab your phone and send to Artem, snapping a picture of your legs, just obscured by the bubbles.

The feel of the water caressing your body and against your tired muscles is soothingly erotic, and you feel a familiar jolt of arousal flowing down your body. Your hands run up and down your soft inner thighs, the arc of your collarbones, luxuriating in the sensation.

Ding! Artem has messaged you back. <Almost home.>

Then, a follow up: <It's not good for our water bill or the environment to take so many baths, but I agree with you that ours is underused.> You laugh. Ever the practical boyfriend.

Still, if he's still on the way, that leaves you free to take care of... some business. Your hands plunge back into the water, stroking your thighs, your breasts, slowly teasing at your nipples to send delicious shivers up your spine. All the while, the water swirls around you, making you even more excited. One hand drifts further downwards, settling onto your clit, and you draw slow, lazy circles around it, letting a slow pressure build up in your core.

The music swells, and you let yourself enjoy each and every sensation, a small moan escaping your mouth and echoing around the bathroom, your back arching slightly as you chase the peak of your pleasure. One of your fingers is just tracing your opening, ready to slip in, when a knock sounds on the bathroom door, and Artem peeks in.

Startled, you sit bolt upright, almost getting a mouthful full of suds.

"Sorry," Artem apologises for startling you. "Just wanted to let you know I'm home, and I'll be making dinner downstairs. Come down when you're ready.

From the crack through the door, you see that his tie has been loosened slightly, hair slightly rumpled from the day. Even though he's interrupted your moment, you can't help but appreciate how much of a goddamn gentleman he is, barely allowing himself a glimpse of you in the bath. Artem is about to close the door when you call for him to wait.

"Come and join me in the bath," you ask. "We did get one that was big enough for two, after all."

The door freezes, and even though you can't see Artem anymore, you can sense he is debating furiously with himself on the other side of the door.

"Please?" you wheedle. "The water is still nice and warm."

When the door next opens, it does so uncertainly, and Artem blushes upon seeing your clothes tossed haphazardly around the bathroom, the bubbles leaving very little to the imagination. It's hardly as if you both haven't seen each other naked before, but you always sense that Artem is holding himself back, too aware of trying to perform the part of gentleman for you, being overly considerate of your needs. Always too afraid to let his eyes linger for too long, or his hands to rest too inappropriately (except in the heat of the moment), afraid that you might think him crude or impolite.

You take charge of the situation. "Clothes off, Mr. Wing. Now."

His hands hesitate at his shirt-buttons, but then he steels his spine and strips off his clothing efficiently, letting you admire the hard planes and lines of his body, so often hidden away behind suits, which, while flatteringly cut, look much better off him. Belt and trousers join the pile on the floor, and you can sense that Artem is itching to refold his clothes nicely instead of leaving them there, so you launch a distraction tactic, rising in the bath so that the tops of your breasts are just visible, watching his eyes drawn to them as the blush in his cheekbones grows higher and higher.

"Should I just - get in?" He stutters. It's so cute to see him embarrassed. He clears his throat, and although he shifts from side to side, you can see his cock twitch slightly, already half-hardening before he's even in the bath. You slide your knees up to make space, and he climbs in, careful not to let the water splash out, although it's dangerously close to doing so, with an extra person in the tub.

It's almost comical to see him curl up so tightly into himself, trying to avoid touching you. Arms hugging his knees as he watches you intently. You stretch your legs out so they just barely graze the sides of your legs.

"Are you really comfortable like that?" You tease, leaning forward and putting your face closer to his. He continues to stare.

"Come on, stretch out." You try to get him to loosen up. "The point of a bath is to relax, after all. No point in getting even more tense, right?"

"You... hm." He conceeds, stretching his limbs out tentatively, but it's an awkward tangle of limbs with you both sitting opposite each other. Then, you have an idea.

"Artem, what if we sat facing the same direction? I could just nestle myself between your legs. That would solve our space issue, and we'd be more comfortable."

He thinks about it. "I don't dislike the idea."

You stand up to spin around, your body covered in suds, and Artem politely averts his eyes a little, face still red, although you're not sure if it's from the steam or embarrassment at this point. You settle down between his legs, gently pressing up against his chest, and give a sigh of contentment. Artem is the best pillow anyone could ask for. As you purr and squirm to find a comfortable position, you feel a distinct hardness growing against your back and stifle a laugh to yourself. Artem's hands settle awkwardly around the curve of your waist, as if he's holding himself back from letting them wander.

"Comfortable?" you tease.

"Hn." He agrees. His cock has grown to full length now, and you can't help but rub yourself against it, feeling him stiffen. You turn your face slightly behind to look at him, and he doesn't dare to meet your eyes.

"You have soap on your face." He says in a matter of fact tone, reaching a hand out to wipe off soap bubbles on your nose very seriously. You giggle in response, then close the gap to kiss him, gently at first, then deepening it, still rubbing yourself slowly against his cock. You slide one of his hands up your body, encouraging him to grab onto your breast, and faced with so much stimulation, Artem loses control and lets out a small moan into your mouth.

That tiny noise is a sudden breaking of the floodgates, and you can almost hear him think, fuck it, as his hands surge up to hold your body closer to his, hips thrusting upwards greedily between the curves of your ass. Panting, you both break apart the kiss, and Artem dives for your neck, licking and sucking the soft skin until you are sure he will leave a bruise. Rolling your nipples between his clever fingers until he draws out a desperate cry from you, the other hand teasing your clit, your entrance, just barely slipping a finger in. You are writhing and completely at his mercy, reaching behind you to stroke his cock.

"Bed?" Artem asks, voice rough with desire. But you can't be bothered with all that now - getting out of the bath, drying yourself, all that nonsense. You want him now.

"I have a better idea," you reply, then turn around so that you are facing him again, sitting on top of him, nestling his cock between your thighs. He makes an attempt to continue with the foreplay, but you stop him.

"I need you, now." you beg him, and like the gentleman he is, he lets you climb on top of him, lining his cock up with your entrance, sliding into your slick warmth. You both cry out at the sensation, taking a few moments to stretch out and get used to the feeling. Then you slide up and down his cock, panting and not caring that the bathwater is sloshing onto the tiles below, probably getting all your clothes wet.

Artem throws his head back, until you can see the line of his throat, his eyes closed in pleasure. His hands are unceasing, moving to play with your breasts, guiding your waist as you plunge again and again on his cock.

An angle hits particularly well for both of you, and Artem opens his eyes, a wild abandon in them. He seizes your hips and thrusts his hips upwards, creating great swells in the water, but hitting that spot again and again until you feel like you are about to explode, begging him not to stop.

"I'm going to cum –!" you cry. "Please don't stop, oh, don't stop Artem!"

His hips drive into you faster and faster until you hit your orgasm, clenching around him. The tightness drives him over the edge, and with a last few thrusts, he follows suit, cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with his cum.

You collapse against his chest, breathing heavily, both locked in an embrace. Artem doesn't let you rest for too long, as he taps your shoulder.

"We'd better get out, or you'll catch a cold."

"Can't you let a girl bask in post-orgasm glory for a few minutes at least?" You complain, although you know he's right - the bathwater has gone cold during the time that you both were otherwise engaged. You peer out at the floor, where half the water seems to have tipped out onto. Artem catches what you're looking at and grabs your shoulders.

"On second thought, wait. Let me grab some towels for the floor, I don't want you to slip." He steps out of the bath and you watch him leave, sighing happily at what a thoughtful boyfriend you have.

[rxmqnova]

Forgotten birthday

Y/N: 11 years old Rose: 18 years old Cosmo: 15 years old Story: Scarlett forgets her daughter's birthday, thinking it's a different date… ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV Y/N had been waiting for this day all year. It's her 11th birthday today. Being the youngest of 3 children isn't easy and Y/N absolutely loves her birthday as her mom always gives her more attention than any other day.

"Y/N, honey, you need to wake up or you'll be late for school" Scarlett says, sitting on Y/N's bed and shaking her daughter softly.

Y/N groans in response, opening her eyes. Her mom always keeps her home on her birthday. They always have their mother daughter time before Y/N's siblings come home from school and they celebrate together.

"Morning, sunshine" The older woman chuckles, kissing her daughter's forehead which causes another groan from the little blonde. "Honey, I need you to get up for me. Rose will drop you and Cosmo off at school, cause I have a lot of filming today and probably won't make it home before 8, so she's gonna pick you up as well" Scarlett smiles softly, playing with her daughter's hair.

"But I thought we'll spend the day together today" Y/N says disappointed.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I really have a lot of work today. I'll make it up to you" Scarlett sighs, pressing another kiss to her daughter's forehead. Y/N only lets out a sad nod, so Scarlett pouts her lips for a kiss which makes her youngest smile and press a kiss to her mama's lips. "Have a good day, pumpkin" Scarlett smiles, booping Y/N's nose before leaving.

Y/N sighs when the door close, getting up from her bed to get ready for the day. Maybe her mom is planning a birthday party for her and needs time to prepare it? Yes, that's probably it, Y/N thought.

The little blonde gets ready for school and heads downstairs for breakfast. Scarlett already left, so she only meets her siblings downstairs. Y/N greets her older siblings with a 'good morning', getting it back from both of them, but no 'happy birthday'. She just shakes it off, they're probably leaving it for the party, right?

———————————

Y/N's now on the way back home from school, she's nervously sitting in the back of Rose's car, excited about all of the surprises her mom had planned for her. The little blonde sprints to the front door as soon as Rose pulls over in front of their house.

"What's up with you today?" Rose chuckles, watching her younger sister confused.

"Nothing" Y/N answers quickly, giving her sister an innocent smile and impatiently waiting for her sister to open the door. Rose shakes her head with a smile, finding her sister adorable.

As soon as Rose opens the door, Y/N runs into the living room, then kitchen, then her mother's bedroom and then her own bedroom, not finding anyone. Maybe the party won't be here but somewhere else?

The little blonde throws her school bag on the ground, sitting down on her bed, letting her thoughts run wildly. Maybe they all forgot after all? They wouldn't… or would they?

She decides to pass some time with drawing as she really enjoys it. "Y/N, dinner!" Rose calls from the kitchen. Y/N checks the time, seeing it's already late for some birthday party. She sighs, slowly walking to the kitchen.

The three siblings sit at the table, eating their dinner, but Y/N's just staring at the food and moving it around the plate with her fork.

"Y/N/N, are you okay?" The older sister asks, watching her little sister confused. Y/N only hums in response, Cosmo not paying attention to any of it as he's staring at his phone. "Are you sure? You don't like it?" Rose asks worried.

"It's good… I'm just not hungry" Y/N sighs, feeling tears form in her eyes. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed" She announces, standing up and walking back to her room.

Y/N runs into her room, throwing herself on the bed and sobbing into her pillow. Few minutes later the girl changes into pajamas, does her night routine and just goes to bed. She hears a soft knock on the door, so she hides her phone and pretends to be sleeping. She's not in a mood for a conversation with anyone.

"Y/N/N?" Rose whispers, opening the door. She sighs when she sees her little sister sleeping, walking over to the bed and pressing a kiss on her sister's forehead. "Goodnight" She whispers and walks out of the room.

Rose is the best big sister Y/N could ever wish for and the two have such a good relationship, but it looks like Rose hasn't checked today's date either.

The clock hits 10 pm and Scarlett walks through the front door with a sigh. Today was really stressful and full of work. The blonde can't wait to go to bed.

Scarlett finds her oldest daughter in the living room, waiting for her. She smiles, walking over to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead and thanking her for taking care of her siblings.

"Was everything okay?" Scarlett asks, sitting on the couch beside the younger blonde.

"Yeah. All good… although… Y/N seemed a bit off in the evening. She didn't even eat dinner and went to bed early" Rose says, still worrying about her little sister.

"That doesn't sound like our Y/N. I'll talk to her in the morning… I'll go to check up on her and then go to bed" Scarlett says, standing up again. "Thank you once again. You should go to bed too, young lady" Scarlett says playfully.

Rose chuckles, rolling her eyes. "Goodnight, mom" She smiles, getting a 'goodnight' from her mom back.

Scarlett makes her way to her youngest daughter's room, quietly opening the door. Y/N's still not asleep, she's just pretending again and hoping to get her 'happy birthday' at least like that. Scarlett walks over to her daughter and presses a kiss to her forehead like Rose did before, whispering a 'goodnight'.

Scarlett leaves the room, going to check up on Cosmo and then heading to her own bed. Y/N sits up, tears slowly and quietly running down her cheeks. How could her own mother forget about her daughter's birthday?

About more than 2 hours later, Scarlett's fast asleep in her bed while Y/N's just sitting on her bed with tears stained cheeks and puffy eyes. The little blonde stands up, walking to her mother's room.

"Mommy?" Y/N whispers, shaking her mom slightly. Scarlett groans, turning around.

"Y/N/N?" Scarlett sits up, switching on the lamp that is on the nightstand. "What happened, bubs? Why are you crying?" She asks, wiping Y/N's tears away with her palm.

"You don't love me anymore?" Y/N asks, her voice breaking and new tears forming in her eyes.

"Wha-Of course I love you, Y/N/N. I love you so much… Why would you think that, sweetheart?" Scarlett asks, her heart breaking from the fact her daughter would ever think anything like that.

"Because it was my birthday yesterday and you didn't say anything" Y/N explains, breaking into tears.

"No. No, it wasn't" Scarlett says, taking her phone and checking the date, seeing June 13th when her daughter was born June 12th. "Shit" She curses under her breath, guilt taking over her. How could she forget about her daughter's birthday? "Y/N/N, I'm so sorry" She apologises, tears now forming in her own eyes. "I'm so, so, so sorry"

"But it's not just you. Rose and Cosmo didn't say anything either. You don't want me anymore?" Y/N sobs, looking at her mother as tears are streaming down her face too by now.

"Honey, of course we want you. I can't imagine my life without you in it. I'm so sorry I forgot about yesterday's special date, I though it was today for some reason. I'm so sorry" Scarlett sighs, pulling Y/N into a tight hug. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. I'll let you stay home for the entire week, so we can be only together every morning. Do you want your presents now or do you want to leave it on the morning?" Scarlett panics.

"I just want to go to sleep" Y/N sobs, all the crying made her tired.

"Okay. We'll celebrate your birthday properly today, okay? I promise I'll make it up to you. I'm so sorry, pumpkin. Can you forgive me?" Scarlett asks, hating when one of her children is upset.

Y/N nods weekly. "But we'll be only together for the week" The little tired girl says.

"Only together, I promise" Scarlett smiles, wiping her daughter's tears away. "Now close your eyes and sleep, my little princess. You have a big day ahead of you" Scarlett says, laying her daughter down on the bed. Y/N closes her eyes as she's really tired. "Happy birthday, my love. I'm sorry again. Sweet dreams, I love you so much" Scarlett whispers, pressing a kiss to Y/N's forehead.

"I love you too, mama' Y/N mumbles before falling into a deep slumber, making Scarlett smile and sigh in relief.

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

Scarlett Johansson masterlist

Masterlist

[laura1633]

I love your two latest bottom charles you've just posted so much. It brightens up my day unexpectedly from the disastrous race yesterday. If you'd like to share more about bottom charles (he's so cute i'm gonna melt) please don't hesitate! I'll be the one who always read and cheer for you ❤️ but if you don't have more things to share atm it's just fine. I just wanna say thank you to you 🥹

Aww thank you so much anon, that is lovely ♥️ I have some bottom Charles stories planned that will be written soon. For now I have written a very short little drabble below of sleepy Charles.

“What is wrong?” Max looks away from the television and towards Charles as he hears the Monegasque shuffling into the room. 

“You weren’t in bed” Charles pouts and rubs at his eyes. It’s still early, far earlier than Max would normally get up but his phone had gone off and he hadn’t been able to fall back asleep. He actually thought he was doing Charles a favour by leaving him alone to sleep, if he hadn’t have gotten up out of bed he would have struggled to keep his hands to himself. Especially when Charles was naked and all tangled up in the sheets looking adorable.

“Sorry baby” Max smiles as he sees how tired Charles still is, the Monegasque’s eyes are barely open and he’s trying to stretch his muscles out but his limbs don’t seem to be very coordinated, “Did you need me?”

“Yes” Charles breathes out as he clambers on to Max’s lap and immediately grinds down against the Dutchman’s cock, “I need more sleep but …” Charles trails off and doesn’t bother fully verbalising what he wants and in truth Max doesn’t need him to. The Dutch driver awkwardly tries to shimmy out his boxers whilst Charles clings hold of him tightly 

“I need to open you up first though” Max strokes his hand up and down Charles’ spine slowly. 

“Already did it” Charles smiles lazily, “You can check” 

Max’s hand wanders down to Charles' ass and he realises Charles definitely wasn’t lying. He’s covered in lubricant, clearly not concerned with getting a little messy in his haste to get himself all nice and prepared. 

“You did good” Max hums as he circles around Charles’ rim and feels the way the muscles have loosened off a little, just enough for him to feel the gape. It probably didn't take much work seen as they only had sex a few hours ago, “You want to get me ready too?”

Charles mumbles something incomprehensible in French but before Max can ask him to repeat himself Charles is reaching out and stroking the Dutchman’s cock to hardness. 

“Thank you” Max smiles and presses a kiss against Charles’ nose. The Monegasque can be quite feisty a lot of the time but when he’s sleepy he is content to do what Max asks and keens softly whenever the Dutchman praises him. 

“Come on then” Max grips one hand around Charles’ waist and the other hand around his own cock as he lines himself up. Charles wiggles his way down slowly, moaning happily as he does so until his ass is flush against Max’s thighs.

“Is that better baby? Is that what you needed to feel good?” Max soothes as he takes in the sight of Charles' rosy red cheeks and fluttering eyes.

“Yes” Charles gives a lopsided smile and and then breathes out a happy sigh as he settles down on Max’s cock and rests against the Dutchman’s body, “Thank you”

“You get some more rest then” Max coos as he grips hold of Charles’ hips and draws tiny little circles against the Monegasque’s skin with his thumbs. The nice rhythmic movement seems to settle Charles down quickly. 

Max has no idea how long Charles will be able to keep still. Sometimes the Monegasque won’t last more than a few minutes before he is overcome with the need to start rocking back and forth or bouncing up and down. Sometimes he shows more restraint, gets a little nap in whilst Max remains buried inside him. Today looks like a sleepy day so Max lowers the volume on the television and sits back and relaxes as Charles falls asleep with his boyfriend’s cock pushed up inside him keeping him nice and full.  

[dduane]

I am curious since I've seen stuff of yours mentioning the worldbuilding work being important (and because your Young Wizard series was hugely influential in the way I build worlds): Where do you put all the worldbuilding work? A notebook? A Google Doc? A file somewhere on a computer? Scattered sticky notes? Messages to friends? Do you try to keep it all organized?

I have no choice but to keep it organized, because if I don't, I'm screwed. :) ...And this isn't just a side effect of being 70+, but of having numerous projects going at once, all in wildly varying stages of development... and ideas for any of them are likely to pop up at any time.

Over time I've learned to keep separate projects' notes well separated from one another, to prevent confusion. Additionally, some kinds of notes are better for some projects than others. If the worldbuilding is mostly to do with character business and stuff going on inside people's brains, something that supports long-format typed notes will be best. For something that needs artwork, drawings, diagrams or calculations, something more graphics-oriented may work better. I usually find out what works best as as I go along, and stage newer notes accordingly.

In the past I've often used (physical) notebooks, but I don't any more, as it takes more effort than I care to expend to move things off the paper and onto the screen / into the file. (For those wondering: I normally compose directly into the computer, either by typing or [Dragon Anywhere-mediated] dictation. If a piece of work is giving me more trouble than usual, I'll sometimes break down and compose on paper, with a fountain pen: thanks for the hint, @neil-gaiman. Sometimes slowing things down does make a difference) :) ...Then I read the pen-generated material into the machine.

Probably the modality I use most often now for worldbuild material is Scrivener, for reasons I discussed a little over here the other day. It lets you store notes alongside your prose material, or in a research "folder" down at the bottom of your project: and it keeps it all together.

But I'm not always sitting down in front of the machine. Sometimes ideas pop out when you're on the road: or you're working on one project and something pertinent to another one comes up. So at such times I use:

Evernote. It syncs seamlessly among all the devices I use, and you can get at it from wherever you are in a browser or from a smartphone or tablet.

A voice recording app. I've got one in the iPad and one on my phone. If I'm somewhere without broadband and can't use Dragon, the saved audio can be fed into it later. Dragon'll then transcribe what I said and email it to me for inclusion in whatever note-keeping software I'm using. Right now on the iPad I'm using an app called Voice Recorder, and on the (Android) phone one that (mysteriously) also called Voice Recorder.

These are desperately handy for when an idea comes to you in the middle of the night and your handwriting's not to be trusted or you don't want to turn on the light for fear of waking up whoever else is in the bed. Fumble around for the recorder, turn it on, mumble your note in and go back to sleep. Just make sure you've actually turned it on. And off. :)

Sticky notes. I do use them, but I don't let them sit around: it's too easy for a passing breeze to blow them off the table / desk / whatever and under the fridge, where you'll never see them again. These normally get transcribed into electronic storage immediately, or stuck onto my desk in a spot where they have to be dealt with immediately; or (in the case of really important notes) stapled to several others that in same cases have been there for years. ...Notes not immediately transcribed get stuck into a notebook which I clean out carefully once a month, along with the other note-taking apps.

Another kind of sticky notes, of which I'm really fond, is this app for the iPad, called Tatter. It allows you to open multiple "notebooks" that can house what seem to be an unlimited number of stickies. Supports images, as well.

A wiki on a stick. If there's a lot of data coming down the pipeline at once, it's handy to have something to stick it into in which short articles can be linked easily to one another. You can export / cut-and-paste these into your main work file as necessary. Then at the project's end, you just zip the wiki's contents up and put it away somewhere, on disk or in the cloud, as you prefer. (Because who knows what its contents might come in handy for, some years from now...?) TiddlyWiki is good tor this kind of thing.

Anyway: the secret of successfully managing an array of note-taking methods like this is to set aside a day once a month to go through them all, making sure that notes that are worth something will be tucked safely into the project file associated with them. If you're not using a program like Scrivener that provides its own storage, this space can as easily be a folder on your desktop, or even a series of printouts. But the most important thing: back them up somewhere safe. Worldbuilding notes are some of the most painful to lose. ...I keep a set of mine in Dropbox, and an additional set in my laptop, and once a month I email a zipfile of the most crucial ones to myself.

If this sounds like a lot of work: that's as may be... but it's worth it. I mean, we're talking worlds here. Until they're safely out where people can see them on paper or on the screen, you are their only guardian.

At any rate: HTH!