#Jay Writes

[hungharrington]

hi, gorgeous. currently daydreaming about steve’s innocent, shy girl climbing on top of him while he’s in a chair and she’s ready to ride him but his huge hands settle on her hips to stop her and she’s looking at him all confused and ready to do her part but he just says “just sit here and look pretty for me,” before he begins to absolutely pound into her, one hand on her hips and the other holding her jaw to make her look at him. he’s just praising the hell out of his little angel baby for taking him so good because he’s just so big. the mental image of his furrowed brows and clenched jaw as he watches her completely melt on his lap from pleasure has me clutching my peARLS

– sittin’ pretty

U KNOW WHAT!! UR THE DEVIL! THE DEVIL!! anyways this request had me feral the moment i started writing it… it gets a little soft at the end tho fem!reader, light choking, hella praise kink, what the request says basically <3 and around 1.7k MDNI this entire blog is 18+

It’s hard to press down your shyness as you tug the tight elastic of your underwear down your calves. They pool at your ankles. You step out of them and resist the urge to cave in and cover yourself. 

“C’mon, c’mere sweet girl,” Steve says softly, his hands smoothing over the top of his tan hairy thighs. He pats them to urge you over. 

Everything feels a bit stilted as you tiptoe over to the big comfy armchair he’s seated on, with his thighs parted. You can feel a surge of slick between your thighs at the sight of his aching cock, the head all pink and drippy just for you. It lies back against his happy trail, the vein on the side prominent. 

Steve offers you his hand, palm up. You take it and let your knees gently find either side of his hips, hovering hesitantly above him. Heat swirls between you, mixing with the fog of lust that emanates heavily from Steve. His adoring face gazes up at you, but his are eyes dark in a way that makes your tummy twist up. 

“Hi, pretty.” He murmurs, guiding your face down for a kiss. You sigh into it sweetly, hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Hi.” You whisper back, against his lips. His kiss and reverent gaze give you courage, leaning back to plant one hand on his knee. Your other hand reaches between your two bodies and curls around his throbbing cock. It’s warm and hard, twitching at the sudden stimulation. Steve hisses lowly, his tummy flexing as pleasure jolts through him. 

Even though you’re shy, that doesn’t mean you’re not impatient. Today, there will be no working him up til he’s begging to be inside you, no matter how much you desperately want to. Instead, you waste no time, tilting your hips forward to let the head of his cock catch against your entrance in a way that makes you moan. Your thighs ache a little with the slow pace you lower yourself — but Steve’s cock is always a stretch. 

It stings, just the slightest, but enough to make you revel in it. You sink down, hand shifting forward to hold his hip to prop yourself up, and your eyes flutter shut in pure ecstasy as his hard cock stretches you open— unaware of how Steve fights to keep his eyes open, drinking in every minuscule expression on your face. 

“That’s it, honey,” He coos, sweeping his hand up your hip to tug you down an inch more. You mewl, body shuddering as you clench around him. It feels fucking mind-melting how good he feels filling you up. “That’sssss it.” 

You’re whimpering by the time he’s fully hilted in you, your thighs pressed down against his own. Steve’s panting a bit, hairy chest rising and falling as he struggles to keep himself in control. You’re so wet, so warm, and god, you’re still so shy even when you’re sitting on his cock — averting your eyes even as your tight little hole clenches around him. When did he get so lucky?

Try as you might, there’s not stopping the pitiful gasp that comes out when you lift yourself back up, his cock gliding almost all the way out of your cunt. You can feel the mess you’re already making on him, can already feel the subtle ache in your thighs but none of it deviates you from your plan. You’re going to ride your boyfriend like there’s no fucking tomorrow. 

But right as you prep yourself to sink back down, Steve’s hands stop you, shooting out to grab you by the hips. You pause. Shyness creeps back in. 

“Wha…? Is something wrong?” You ask. 

Steve’s quick to comfort, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek. “Hey, hey, everything’s fine. I just—“ He shift his hips up a bit and you shiver, eyes fluttering closed without thinking. When you open them again, he’s grinning. 

“I just want you to sit here and look pretty for me, hm?” He leans up to kiss your cheek and it makes you entirely too distracted for what happens. 

His tummy clenches, muscles tightening, as his hips suddenly snap up, thrusting his cock back deep into you. You squeal. 

“Steve!” Your hands propel forward, grasping his shoulders, but he doesn’t pause. His hands on your hips tighten as he holds you in place, drilling up into your wet cunt, hard and fast. Pleasure dribbles through your core, hot and melty. His thighs slap against your own, causing them to buckle and you sink down a little lower — only forcing his cock deeper inside you. 

You whine, all of a sudden overwhelmed, and tuck your face away— all too aware of how every time he fucks up into you, you make a needy little uh. 

And, well, that just won’t do. With one hand keeping your hips secure, his other wanders up, creeping in around your neck. Even as he fucks you roughly, his touch is still gentle. His big hands can stretch across the expanse of your jaw— and he uses it to coax your head up. You’re already looking teary eyed, warm enough in the face that he can feel it with his hand, all from how much you’re enjoying it. Steve loves it. 

“Baby,” He manages to rasp out sweetly. You gasp, hiccupy and high pitched, embarrassed by the wet squelchy noises he’s fucking out of your cunt. “Look at you, my baby. Doing so good for me, huh? Taking it so well, angel.” 

You lean into the hand around your throat further, letting him curl his fingers around it a bit tighter. One of your hands flies up to grasp his wrist, needing, craving the connection. 

“Steve,” you cry, delirious from the pleasure. His cock fills you over and over, unravelling you from the inside. “Steve,” You repeat his name uselessly, mouth hanging open as a whiney moan takes over. 

“I know, I know.” He coos, sweet as he can be while ruining you on his cock. He’s got a furrow in his brow, his jaw set, perfect brown eyes searching your face— always looking for which button to press next, which way to make it better for you. God, you love him. 

“So fucking good, isn’t it angel?” He grunts. “Perfect fuckin’ cunt, just made to take my cock, isn’t she?” 

“Yes!” you keen, the words tearing from your mouth. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck,” Pathetic whimpery noises flow out freely, your grip around his wrist tightening as you feel heat gather low in your tummy. 

“G-God, fuck,” Steve groans, the first hint of desperation leaking into his words. His hand around your throat tightens in the slightest, a soft pressure that has your head spinning. “Can fucking feel you getting close.” 

His words make you moan, your thighs slipping further down — your hand shoots out to brace against the arm of the chair, desperate to keep him going, to reach your peak. 

“Your—“ A whimper slips into his voice. “Fuck. Your pussy gets all tight when she wants to cum— y’wanna cum?” 

You’re nodding along before he’s even finished his sentence. With how hard he’s fucking you, hips thrusting up against yours, it’s a wonder he can even see it. You whimper out a “Yes.” just in case. 

“I know you do.” He groans loudly. “Deserve to, too. You’ve been so good, so fucking good, yeah?” 

His hand holding your hip slips forward, snaking towards your clit and pleasure twists the coil in your tummy up tighter and tighter. His rough thumb pushes against it, sloppy but effective. You wail. 

“Y’deserve to cream all over my cock like a good girl, don’t you?” He rasps, throat a bit wrecked from every sweet sultry noise thats passes his lips. 

You’re not even sure if it’s words coming out your mouth anymore, just a whiney mess of yes’s tangled up in your moans. Steve whines, the rhythm of his strokes beginning to falter as his own orgasm begins to rear up. You whine and your hips move on their own accord— bouncing down on his cock to meet his thrusts midway. 

“Yes, yes, fuck, you’re so good, y’look fucking perfect bouncing on my cock,” Steve rambles, that perfect pussy-drunk expression beginning to take over him. His moans turn to whines and with one desperate whimper of your name, you topple like a house of cards. 

Pleasure unravels you. Your hips stutter and drop down, trying to cram every inch of Steve into you as you can, while your other hand claws weakly at his tummy. Heat scorches every nerve inside you, delicious and overwhelming all at once. 

The scratch of your nails, the clench of your wet cunt, the pitiful crying noise you make, all of it sets Steve off — his back arching and hips bucking up, trying to get more of your hot, wet pussy. His face screws up, a high whine tearing out his throat as his hands grapple to circle around your back, trying to get you closer.

It’s a sweat press of skin, chest to chest. You twitch and moan, face tucked away safely in his neck, as Steve lets all his noises out into the curve of your own. It’s deeply intimate — enough to make your shyness peek back up when Steve digs his face out after a minute of laboured breathing. His face is pink, his expression blissful. 

“You,” He huffs tiredly, eyes scanning your face worriedly. “You okay? Wasn’t too rough?” 

You melt a bit, a breathy laugh escaping you. “Yeah, I’m okay.” You chuckle. Nerves rear their ugly head within you before you can flatten them. “Was I— that was good?” You check. 

Steve laughs softly, nuzzling in closer to you. He smells fantastic. You can’t help how you mirror him, nosing along his cheek, letting your eyes slip shut. 

“Baby, I think you melted my brain.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

[resident-gay-bitch]

Defiance & Desire

18+ wolfstar drabble

James and Sirius sit cross legged on the floor of their dormitory, quill and parchment between them, and lolly wrappers scattered around. 

Sirius taps his chin, listening as James reads out everything on the list so far; all things that would absolutely piss his mother off and have her rolling into an early grave if she ever found out about them. 

There are a lot of things on this list so far. 

“How about… mooning the crowd at the next quidditch match?” Sirius suggests. 

James bursts out laughing, “Merlin, Sirius. That will have Dumbledore rolling into an early grave.” 

“Good.” Sirius grinned. 

“What would Minnie say?” 

“Erm, probably… detention for the rest of my life.” He chuckled, “Oh, Minnie…. Love her.” 

James cracked a bright smile and wrote it down. 

“What else?” Sirius hummed, “I need as many as possible. It betters the chances of them getting back to her.”

“Erm…” James thought for a moment, fixing his glasses, “You could… oh, shag a muggle born… or like, a halfblood or something?” 

Sirius nodded, “Yeah, that’s good… I mean, I’ve done it, but I suppose I could do it a few more times.” 

“Oh, yeah…” James grumbled, forgetting about Sirius’ history with girls, “Ooh, you could shag a bloke. That would really send her.” 

Sirius’ eyes widened, “A bloke?” 

James nodded, “Yeah, like, ya know…” He shrugged, “I’d offer but I’m a happily committed man, Sirius.”

“Hmm.” Sirius bit his lip, thinking about it for a moment, “Add it to the list, I’ll consider it.”

James grinned and hurried to scribble it down, “Shagging… a criminal would work too… that also goes under the category of becoming a criminal. Because, you know, conspiring with them and all that.”

“Ooh, yeah, I’d shag a criminal.” 

“Or like… a creature or something.”

“I’m not shagging an animal, James.” 

James laughed, “No! Like… like a vampire or something, you know? Or a werewolf.” 

“Oh, yeah.” Sirius nodded, “That could be cool.”

“Yeah… hot, right?” 

Sirius shrugged, “Erm, I suppose. I like the muggle vampire romance books, so…”

James sighed and wrote it down, “Oh, look at that.” He hummed to himself, his tone a little playful, a little curious, “A halfblood, criminal… a creature, a bloke…” He chuckled, “You could just shag Moony.” 

“Moony?” Sirius asked, looking down at the parchment. 

James shrugged, “You’d be killing like, four birds with one stone. Your mother would be beside herself.” He laughed, “Ah, I’m just playing fun, Sirius. Obviously you’re not gonna go shag Moony. It’s not like you’re both gay or anything.” 

Sirius nodded his head, “Yeah, it would be funny though.” 

“Yeah.” James sighed, looking back at the parchment, “Ooh! Let the girls do your makeup and go have dinner in the Great Hall in a dress.” 

Sirius gasped, “Oh, James, you’re brilliant!” 

☆ ★ ☆

Sirius swings lazily on his chair, one leg propped up on his bedside table and the other just his toes touching the ground. His hair is tied back all messily, and he’s got his tie loose around his neck and a few buttons on his shirt undone. He’s humming to himself, watching the record spin and spin and spin on the table until it comes to a scratchy stop. 

With an effortless swish of his wand, the record lifts itself up and slots itself away into the Ziggy Stardust sleeve on the shelf. And then he groans, throwing his head back and exposing his long pale neck. 

Remus is going insane. 

“I’m so bored.” He whines, “Why’d she have to make my detention so late?”

“To further punish you, I suppose.” James shrugged. 

“You know, you should be thanking me. If I didn’t take the fall for you, Prongsie Boy, you’d be the bored one right now.” 

“And I’ll forever be greatful for it, shnookums.” James laughs, bouncing over to kiss Sirius sloppily on his forehead. 

Sirius yelps and nearly falls out of his chair, swatting James away, “You’re disgusting.”

“No, you are.” James says, tapping Sirius on the end of his nose like a sappy couple would, going back and forth about who’s cuter. 

Sirius rolls his eyes and smiles anyway. 

“I’ll see ya later.” James calls, “Gotta go do my rounds with Lily.” 

“Bye.” Sirius waves, and goes back to his chair swinging. 

Remus barely mutters his goodbye as he watches, and James laughs to himself as he leaves. 

It’s just them two now. Alone. In their dorm. James out for the next few hours, Peter no doubt distractedly talking with the girls for hours on end. Remus should go down and join them, he said he would, but… well, right now he’d rather watch Sirius swing on his chair. 

Besides, Sirius has to leave for his detention soon, so he can join them later. 

Sirius huffs and a shiny strand of hair flies up out of his face. It slowly settles back down, and then Sirius blows it back up into the air again. He does this a few more times, until it falls off the side of his face and out of reach, and Remus watches, entranced the whole time. 

“Moonshine?” Sirius asks, eyes squinting as he looks out the window. He’s tracking a bird as it loops around the sky. 

“Yes?” Remus squeaks out, then clears his throat and deepens his voice, “Uh, I mean, yes?” 

Sirius shrugs, “Would you ever be interested in shagging?” 

Remus feels his cheeks go red, “What?”

“Shagging?” Sirius asks, turning to look at Remus, and it’s mortifying, “Like, sex… fucking… you know?”

“Ah… yes?” Remus nods, “Yes, I’d be… I mean, who isn’t interested in sex?” He laughs nervously.

“Erm… me, I suppose.” Sirius sighs, looking back up at the roof, “I mean, I do it a lot I suppose- or, well, not that much. But, you know, more than you or Pete and the girls and stuff.”

“Right.” Remus nods.

“But I mean, it’s not that great. You know, if I never shagged again, I wouldn’t care.” 

“Really?” He asks, curious. 

“Yeah, I mean, sure, girls are gorgeous and all but… eh, you know?” 

Remus swallows, “Eh?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, “It’s just… slimey down there. And like… I don’t understand the whole boob thing. I guess… I ‘spose it’s not really normal, so I just ignore it. But I don’t go out of my way to shag a girl unless she asks, you know?” 

“Sure…” Remus says, because he very much knows- or, well, not really. He knows he wouldn’t shag a girl no matter what, because he doesn’t like girls. So he gets that, but he doesn’t really understand if Sirius is implying the same circumstance or not. 

“Have you ever shagged anyone, Remus?” 

“No.” He swallows, “Never.”

“Oh…” Sirius nods, “But you want to?”

“Yes.” Remus nods back. 

Sirius seems to think about this for a moment, humming to himself in quiet contemplation, and Remus just watches. He has no idea what he’s feeling right now, other than downright confused and so fucking intrigued. 

“Would you ever shag me?” 

Remus chokes. He starts coughing and spluttering, cheeks red and eyes wide, “Sorry?” 

Sirius shrugs, “Sorry.” He laughs, “Didn’t mean to catch you off guard like that. But would you ever shag me?” 

“I… I mean…” Remus rubs his forehead, “I’m… I don’t…”

“Just, you know how James and I are finding things to piss my mother off?” 

“Yeah…?” 

“Well, we thought it would be good if I shagged a bloke, and a creature… a criminal, and like… a halfblood.” Sirius smiled, “You’re an unregistered half blood werewolf with a cock, so-“

“Bloody hell, Sirius.” Remus looks at him, absolutely gobsmacked. Lily will go crazy when he tells her about this conversation. “I mean… what?” 

Sirius shrugged, “I mean, it’s not like I’m gay or anything. I just know it would piss her off.”

Well, that’s disappointing. 

“So yeah, do you wanna shag?”

“Are you serious?” 

Sirius smirked. 

“I- no.” He scoffed, laughing into his hands as he hid behind them, “Are you genuinely asking me to fuck, right now, Sirius?”

“Yeah…” Sirius smiled, “Just a bit of fooling around. It doesn’t have to mean anything, and I know we’re both not gay so it’s cool. It doesn’t have to be weird.” 

“Right.” Remus nods, because he’s not gay, no, not at all. 

“Besides, imagine the bragging rights.” 

“Sorry?” Remus hummed. 

“Well, I can say I’ve fucked a werewolf, and a criminal, which is… pretty cool.” He grinned, “And you can say you’ve fucked Sirius Black.”

“Oh, you cocky bastard.” Remus groaned. 

Sirius laughed, “Imagine it, one of those girls in the halls bragging to their friends about how I’ve been inside them- and what, you’d just be able to say you’ve been inside me! Something they’d never be able to say.”

Remus’ eyebrows furrowed, “I’d be inside you?”

“Well, yeah.” Sirius shrugged, “Oh, unless you prefer it the other way around. I just think I’d prefer if you fucked me, is all.” 

Remus’ brain is short circuiting. He’s beginning to question whether or not Sirius is as straight as he claims. 

“When you said shag, I assumed you mean handjobs.” 

“Oh…” Sirius nodded, looking a little disappointed actually, “Oh, yeah, we can… we can just do handjobs if you want.” 

“Erm, no that’s okay.” Remus cleared his throat, “I can… I can, erm, do that, if you’d like.” 

“Oh, Moons, you don’t have to just do it if you don’t want. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” Sirius smiled, so, so prettily.

“No, it’s okay, yeah, I’d…” Remus looked away for a moment, unable to believe he was actually having this conversation, “I’ll fuck you.”

“Oh, brilliant.” Sirius grinned, “You’re really the best, Remus. Like, my favorite person in the world. Mother will be so pissed if she ever found out- and don’t worry, I’m not just gonna go tell her. It’s just the idea of it.” 

“Right.” Remus nods. 

“So, erm… I’ve got detention, so we can’t do it now… how about tonight?” 

“To-“ Remus stops himself mid sentence and looks at Sirius aghast, “You’re just… yeah, okay, yeah.” 

Sirius hummed, “James will have his date thing in the astronomy tower by the time I get back from detention so… we just have to get Peter out of the room somehow.”

“Leave it to me!” Remus says, “I’ve got… I’ll figure it out. I’m… yeah, we’re good mates so I’ll sort it.”

“Oh, Moonbeam, you really are the best.” Sirius smiles, hopping up out of his chair and bouncing over to pet Remus on the top of his head, “Really, I owe you big time.” 

“Yeah.” Remus blushed and ducked his head, watching Sirius waltz out of the room, humming a happy tune. 

☆ ★ ☆

“Holy shit guys, I just…” Remus plops himself down on the couch between Mary and Marlene. Lily is sitting on the floor against Mary’s legs and Pete’s sitting across from her, they’re playing snap. “I… I think I’m gonna have sex with Sirius.”

All four of them went dead silent, turning slowly to look at him. 

Remus swallows and looks up, “He wants to piss of his parents and… apparently secretly having sex with me is the perfect way to do that?”

“What?” Peter gasps. 

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly, Wormy.” Remus muttered, “Erm, we’re gonna shag tonight… he wants… he wants me to shag him, tonight.” 

“Merlin…” Lily grins looking up at him, “Oh, Remus!”

Remus bites his lip, blushing, “Pete… you reckon you can clear the room tonight?” 

“Trust me, I’m staying as far away as possible.” Peter laughed, “Bloody hell, I owe James ten galleons. I really didn’t think that would work.”

“You planned this?” Remus asked, “Wait, you bet on this?”

Peter looked at him deadpan, “I’ve already made fifty galleons from winning bets on Sirius, he’s so predictable. Obviously I bet on this.” 

Remus sighs and sinks down into the sofa, “I’m going to have sex with Sirius tonight…” He looks around at them all, “How do you have sex?”

“Oh, Remus.” Lily mused. 

☆ ★ ☆

It’s just them. Just Remus and Sirius. The moment he got back from detention James was waltzing out of the room with a cheerful grin, off to his date, and Pete was following right after in hopes of finding Marlene. 

So they’re alone already, which makes things so much easier for Sirius. 

“Thanks.” He smiles, “For sorting Pete out.” 

“No problem.” Remus nodded, “He was gonna hang out with Marlene anyway.” 

“Oh, cool.” Sirius said, starting to feel a little awkward, “Erm, so, I don’t really know how this works.”

“Me either, I suppose.” Remus swallowed, “I did some research, though. Figured out some stuff.”

“Oh, Moons…” Sirius smiled, he really is the most grateful for Remus. He really is the best. He just feels so much admiration for him all the time. “You’re such a good friend.” 

“Yep.” Remus nods, “Such a good friend.”

“So like… are we just doing the sex bit, or foreplay too?” Sirius asked, hoping Remus votes for foreplay. Sirius is good at foreplay, it’s his strong suit. It’s the part he likes the best of sex, so he doesn’t want to make it weird by not enjoying any of this. 

But foreplay is what people do when they like each other, most of the time. So Sirius would understand if Remus says no to it. Like, it would be extra disappointing, but he’d get it. 

“Forplay?” Remus’ eyes widen. 

“Yeah, like… kissing and all that.” He shrugs, “Undressing each other .”

Remus swallows, “Sure.” He says, and for some reason his voice just got higher. Sirius likes when Remus’ voice does that, it’s funny and it makes him feel kinda good, like, proud in a way, but he doesn’t know why. 

“Oh, cool.” Sirius nods, acting all nonchalant when really he’s feeling very happy inside. 

“Uhm… we have to use lube.” 

“Oh…” Sirius furrowed his brow. Girls don’t need lube. He really knows less about this sex stuff than he thought. “Right, well, I think we have some of that butter left from the prank-“

“Not butter.” Remus cuts in, laughing at him, “Definitely not butter, Sirius. It’s going inside you-“

“Oh, yuck. I don’t want butter in my arse.” He grimaced. 

“Yeah, I don’t really want it on me either.” Remus laughed, “Like, sex lube.” 

“Oh…” Sirius nodded, “What’s that? Can we make it?” 

“No.” Remus smiled, turning to his bedside draw, “It’s just gel stuff, I guess. Erm, here…” He tossed a little tube over to Sirius. 

It’s see through and has a transparent slime inside, “Oh, where'd you get this on such short notice? It’s half empty.” 

Remus went red again. Sirius likes when he makes Remus go red. “Erm… cause I use it.” 

“I thought you didn’t have sex?”

“I don’t.” Remus splutters, “It’s for… wanking”.

Sirius looked down at the tube, then over at Remus’ crotch, “Oh… really? I don’t need lube when I wank- I mean, not that I wank very often, but it’s always wet enough when I do.” 

Remus’ eyes widened and he just stared at Sirius for a moment, “Right…” 

Sirius shrugged, “This sex stuff is interesting.” 

“Erm, you’ll also have to be… fingered.” Remus gritted out. 

“Can you finger blokes?” He asks, genuinely baffled as he flips the bottle of lube around in his hand absentmindedly. 

Remus nods. 

“Oh, I didn’t know that… why?”

“To make it like… big enough.” Remus nods, “You know… for…” He waved his hands wearily around his crotch. 

“Oh, yeah, I suppose it’s kinda a small hole, hey?” Sirius hummed, the pieces slotting into place now, “Cool.” 

“Yeah, cool.” 

“So… like, I haven’t kissed a bloke before, but I’ve kissed girls.” Sirius smiled, “Have you kissed a bloke before? I know you’ve kissed a couple girls.” 

Remus nods, “I kissed Peter once.” 

Sirius immediately does not like that. He doesn’t know why, but that’s just weird. It’s just so, so weird. Peter? Remus has kissed Peter? What the fuck. 

“What?”

“Yeah, we made out once-“ Remus cuts himself off, giving Sirius an unsure look. 

Sirius knows it’s because he’s scowling. He’s not even ashamed of it. Remus and Peter made out, how fucking weird. That’s just fucking weird. That’s so gross, that so- oh, is Sirius homophobic? Oh, Sirius really doesn’t want to be homophobic. A lot of his friends are gay, that would be really bad if he was homophobic. 

He huffs and looks at the ground, “Did it mean anything-“

“No.” Remus says immediately, “The girls just dared us one day, since they’ve all kissed each other- it was just stupid. Didn’t mean anything. Never will. Never has.” 

“Oh, cool.” Sirius nods, some of the weight lifting off of his shoulders. The thought still makes him a little queasy, but less so now.

Perhaps shagging a bloke will make him less homophobic. He really hopes it will. He feels really terrible. His whole life he’s been running from the man his parents tried to shape him into, and yet, the shadow lingers. 

It’s terrifying. 

“Erm, so… do we just… kiss?” 

Remus is still for a moment, and he’s looking at Sirius kind of strangely. Sirius doesn’t know what to do with himself in all honesty, he never does under Remus’ gaze. It’s always so intense, it makes him nervous, fiddley… giggly. 

Oh yeah, Remus makes him so giggly. He’s fighting the urge to giggle like a child now. Remus is just… he’s looking at him, like really looking. Sirius feels so special when Remus looks at him, because he knows Remus doesn’t look at anyone else like this. No, this look is reserved especially for Sirius and that’s just… well, isn’t that just delightful? 

But he really doesn’t want to giggle right now. He’s trying so hard not too, because that would be embarrassing. He feels like a girl, which is so weird, and so dumb, because why would he ever feel like that? 

“Do you want to kiss?” Remus asked back eventually. 

“Yes.” Sirius says, without a thought, mouth on autopilot apparently. And that’s probably a good thing, because his brain is kind of a bit useless at the moment. So much is going on up there, yet there are no thoughts at all. He nods his head for assurance, “Yeah, that’d be good.”

“Okay.” Remus smiled and took a couple of steps closer. 

Sirius looked at the gap between them, there wasn’t much of one, but he certainly wasn’t close enough to comfortably kiss. So Sirius took the final step, the baggy wool of Remus’ sweater brushing up against the buttons of Sirius’ shirt. 

“Hi there.” Sirius murmured into the small space between them. If he leant forward, just a smidgen, their noses would bump together. 

“Hi.” Remus smiles, his cheeks flushing a really adorable pink colour, flushed under freckles and scars. 

Sirius really doesn’t know how Remus doesn’t get girls, because he thinks Remus is quite attractive. Well, sure, he’s not dashing in the way Sirius effortlessly is, and he’s not cute in the way Peter is, and he’s certainly not stoically handsome like James. But he’s attractive in his own little way, in the Remus way, the way that he’s just really handsome because he simply is and everyone should just agree because Sirius knows. 

Besides, he looks really cute when he’s about to get kissed. All up close and personal, honey-golden eyes barely visible behind the dilation in his pupils, flushed cheeks smattered under a galaxy of freckles, silver scars that are just so intrinsically Remus, pert lips that look so… so… uhm, Sirius can’t think. He’s too distracted to think. 

Point is, Remus is damned attractive and it’s appalling that not more people think so. 

Remus huffs and bites his lip, and Sirius can feel his eyes searching all over Sirius’ face. But he can’t help but stare at the place between Remus’ front teeth, the plush skin, it’s so pink and shiny. He’s just so… so cute. 

Sirius boops their noses together. 

Remus almost giggles. 

Sirius kisses him. 

It’s… well, it’s so much better than kissing girls. Honestly, Remus must have been practising because he’s just really good at this whole kissing thing. Maybe there’s a spell or something that makes you really good. 

Whatever it is, Remus is it. They’re not even making out and it’s just so much better than every girl he’s ever kissed, ever. 

Remus is really just such a good mate, isn’t he? Gosh, Sirius really thinks so. 

Remus shuffles a little closer and tips his head to the side slightly, opening his mouth and sliding his tongue along the seam of Sirius’ own lips. 

It’s so well done, his smoothness, that Sirius breaks out in goosebumps. Once this is all over, Sirius will have to tell Remus that he really is just so good at all this kissing stuff. 

He’s really that good that Sirius kinda just wants to keep him to himself. Like a little trophy that only he gets to have. No one else should be allowed to be graced with such good kissing skills because honestly, Sirius doesn’t think any girl out there would be able to properly appreciate it. 

It’s so good, when Remus slips some tongue into Sirius’ mouth and reaches up to tug Sirius in by the belt loops, that he moans. He actually moaned, and he’s not even embarrassed because Remus needs to know just how good at this he is. 

Remus tugs him closer and Sirius lifts his hands to grab at the back of Remus’ neck and tug at the jumper over his shoulder because something has just come over him. Something wild. Some primal need or something to just tear Remus’ clothes off and have him. He blames Padfoot. 

They shuffle back to Sirius’ bed until Remus’ knees buckle and he flops down onto it. Sirius shoves himself into Remus’ lap, straddling him and pressing close which just feels… so good. Like, Remus really doesn’t know how good he is. 

He must be some sex god or something. How Remus hasn’t had sex yet, Sirius doesn’t know. But what he does know, is that Remus is so fucking wonderful and Sirius doesn’t want to share. 

How strange is that? 

Remus’ bony fingers reach up to undo the buttons on Sirius’ shirt, but before he can even get halfway, Sirius is yanking Remus’ jumper up and off his body in a rush. 

“So good.” He mutters, leaning in to kiss Remus again. He starts shoving off his own shirt before Remus can do the last button. “Oh, you’re really good at this, Moony.” 

Remus moans against his mouth and wow, holy Godrick, that’s really a wonderful sound. How are his moans even that brilliant? This really isn’t fair. How is Sirius ever supposed to be so good in bed? He really hopes he doesn’t let Remus down. 

“Fuck.” Remus mumbles, latching his lip onto Sirius’ throat and groaning when Sirius digs his nails into Remus’ shoulders, “You- oh, you’re really- you’re so hot.”

Sirius flushes all over, and he dips back down to kiss Remus again. He can’t help but giggle. 

☆ ★ ☆

“Please, please, please, please.” Sirius is mumbling, actually completely naked underneath Remus which is just… it’s really a sight to behold. It’s an image which will be imprinted in Remus’ mind for the rest of eternity. 

Remus can’t help but duck down to kiss him, right on the lips, because Sirius seems to actually really love that. He actually seems to really love a lot of things involving Remus sexually. 

Remus moans, his hips pressing down against Sirius’. The friction from that alone is far better than anything he conjures up in his mind and creates with his own right hand at night. 

“Yeah.” He nods, “Yeah, erm… do… do you wanna do it yourself?”

“Do what?” Sirius gasps, bucking his hips up when Remus doesn’t grind down again. 

“Finger yourself.” Remus says bluntly, because there’s really no other way to say it. 

“Oh, uhm…” Sirius’ eyes fly open, and they flick around Remus’ face for a bit before he flushes more than he already has and smiles, “Can you do it? I don’t really know what I’m doing, and I’ll just probably like it more if you did… you’re like… really bloody good at this sex stuff.” 

Remus knows for a fact that he is not really bloody good at this sex stuff. He’s never even done it before, and he’s being really awkward as he always is. The first kiss they shared he was so stiff for, and he literally opened his mouth and shoved his tongue out really weirdly because he was just so shocked by Sirius actually doing this. He knows that was a terrible kiss, but Sirius just kept kissing him anyway. And then Sirius kinda took the lead there a little and gave Remus some time to figure it out, thankfully. 

So yeah, Remus knows he’s so fucking bad at this. He knows Sirius has been with a good handful of girls who are confident, and experienced, and way nicer to look at. And yet, Sirius won’t stop banging on about how fucking good Remus is at all of this, how his mouth is fucking magic, and how he’s making Sirius all tingly. 

It’s like a dream. A real dream brought to life or something. Remus really pinched himself at one moment to make sure he wasn’t actually dreaming it up. 

But no. It’s real. And Sirius’ is enjoying it. And Sirius wants Remus to finger him. And Sirius wants to have sex with Remus. 

Remus is almost certain that Sirius just… isn’t actually into girls at this point. Or at the very least, is into guys in one way or another. 

Remus grabs the lube from under Sirius’ back, where he’d landed on it a while ago when taking off his trousers. He pops the cap and squeezes a big glob of lube onto his fingers before spreading it around a little. 

Sirius gazes up at him, his legs are slightly open, spread around Remus’ own knees, all just… naked for him. His gaze is heavy lidded, and Remus fights the urge to look further downward. 

“Just be nice, yeah?” Sirius asks, a finger reaching out to draw over a scar on Remus’ middle. “I haven’t been fingered or anything before, so… do you think it will hurt?” 

Remus shakes his head, “Ah… I did it to myself once. If you go slow it doesn’t… I’ll go slow.” 

“Okay.” Sirius blushes again, “You really are the best, Moonshine.” 

Merlin, that name? Oh, Remus is starting to lose it. He’s actually going to lose his mind about it. It’s bad enough as is, when Sirius calls him that just out and about. It makes his heart race and his stomach fill with butterflies. 

But here? Now? Well, Remus is going to implode. He’s so, so fucking into Sirius it’s sickening. 

“Thanks.” Remus mutters, reaching a sticky finger down between Sirius’ legs, “Erm, is that… are you…. Can I?”

“Yeah.” Sirius breathes, his eyes falling shut, “O-oh, fuck, yeah. Oh, Moony, you’re so… mhm, you’re so good at this.” 

Remus’ brain melts a little more, because he hasn’t actually done anything. Really, his finger is just sitting there, only the very tip of it has pushed inside and Sirius is there acting like Remus is just about to make him cum. 

Sirius really can’t be straight. He’s either really good at faking it, or really, really gay. 

Remus hopes for the latter. 

“What about that? Hurt?”

“No.” Sirius hums, smiling to himself as he turns his head into the pillows, his hands gripping the sheets, “No, s’good. Oh, Moonbeam, you’re- oh, you’d never… never hurt me. Never hurt me, baby. S’good.”

Remus has suddenly lost all coherent thought. 

☆ ★ ☆

Sirius feels euphoric. 

Really, he wishes he had sex with Remus earlier because this is just fucking brilliant. Remus is really just so good. 

When Sirius has sex with girls, he feels kinda good physically a lot. Like, his cock likes it, he supposed. But it’s usually really boring. It’s just not all that great, he doesn’t get why James likes sex so much. 

But like, with Moony? Well, everything is great. He’s just really good at it, and he must know exactly what he’s doing because no matter what it just makes Sirius feel so amazing. 

Physically and emotionally. Like, everywhere. He feels like a live wire. 

“R-Remus.” He stutters out, because he’s not very good at talking anymore. He’s mostly just loudly moaning and stuff. Like, it’s so loud that Remus actually stopped midway through to cast a silencing charm so people outside the dorm wouldn’t hear. “Oh, fuck, Remus. Please, can you just fuck me?”

“Shit.” Remus moans, “F-fuck, yeah. You… you sure? You sure you want that?” 

Sirius nods, because if Remus fingering him is this good, then he really wants to find out about the rest of it. 

“Yeah, please.” Sirius said, “Really, really, please, Moonybaby. Oh, fuck- you’re so- you’re so good at- uh.” 

“Fucking- okay, yeah.” Remus chokes out, pulling his hand away from Sirius.  

He can’t help but whine about it, feeling so cold and empty. He reaches out to cling to Remus, but all he gets are glorious, sweaty, scarred thighs. 

He lifts his head when he hears a wet sound, and watches Remus smear some lube over himself, quite entranced by it. He watches the slick glide of Remus’ wonderful hands and wishes it was himself between those magical fingers. 

Remus comes closer, and Sirius immediately grabs for him. His arms sling around Remus’ neck, fingers sifting in through hair and clawing at his back. 

“Oh, Moony.” Sirius moans, kissing him as much as Remus will let him, “Please. Oh, you’re so… oh, R-Remus.”

“Bloody hell, Sirius.” Remus grunts, pressing in as close as he can. His whole body shivers as he slowly sinks down, Sirius whining helplessly in his ear. He can’t help it, it feels so fucking good, just like he thought. “Oh, fuck, you’re so- so hot. So fucking… oh, fuck.”

Sirius can’t stop kissing, everywhere. Anywhere his lips can reach he’s attaching himself to Remus. It really is quite delightful, getting fucked by his sex god best friend. 

He thinks about recommending it to James, but thankfully James is a committed man. Then perhaps Peter, but- no, they’ve already kissed, they’ve done enough. Besides, Sirius is apparently homophobic about that so he probably shouldn’t suggest it. 

Maybe he’ll just tell everyone Remus is really bad, so no one else goes and fucks him- yeah, that sounds good. No one else gets to have him, only Sirius. 

He’s probably a really bad friend for that, but, well, he doesn’t really care right now because Remus is just making him feel so, so good. Like, really lucky. 

☆ ★ ☆

Sirius is clinging to Remus like he’s his life line. It’s probably the best feeling in the world. And yes, that includes the feeling of been balls deep inside Sirius. 

Both are fucking amazing, but being clung too by Sirius beats it by just a smidgen. 

He’s shaking, actually, so much to the point that Remus had thought he’d done something wrong. But no, Sirius has assured him it’s purely because he just feels fucking amazing. That Remus is doing a bang on job. 

Really, Remus isn’t sure why Sirius keeps saying such things. Like, sure, now it’s fine because Remus has found a rhythm and gotten more comfortable doing this, but he was so awkward those first few thrusts. They were miscalculated, and kinda desperate, and just not very good, he could tell. But still, Sirius had said it’s the best feeling ever. 

Remus doesn’t know what to do with himself. So he just lets his body do whatever the hell it needs. And what it needs is to make Sirius finish, and apparently, to say dumb shit he’s going to regret later. 

“You’re so… so fucking pretty, baby.” He mutters, kissing Sirius between each few words, “So good, so gorgeous. Feels so good- so good. Oh you’re just so good, so-“

Remus reels back, because Sirius is thrashing almost violently, and is getting louder and- Remus looks down to find white smeared all over Sirius’ stomach. 

Sirius doesn’t give Remus time to process that before he’s pulling him down into a deep kiss and thrusting his own hips up to meet Remus’. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.” Sirius is muttering on repeat, smattering kisses everywhere on Remus’ face as he chases his own. “Oh, so- so good, Moonshine. You’re so good, too good to me.” 

Remus presses their foreheads together as he cums and kisses Sirius midway through. When he pulls away, Sirius is dazed. 

He has a faraway, dreamy look in his eyes and a relaxed smile on his lips. His cheeks are bright pink, a stark contrast to his pale complexion, and his skin shimmers with sweat. 

Oh, he really is just so fucking pretty. 

“Fuck.” Remus grunts, shifting until he’s laying down beside Sirius, both on their backs, shoulders overlapped. 

Sirius whines as Remus slips away, and shivers slightly. Remus grabs his jumper off the pillow and lays it over Sirius’ chest like a blanket. 

“Hmm.” He hums, and closes his eyes. 

Remus cleans them both up, reaching the end of the box of tissues on Sirius’ bedside. But they’re clean, so it’s fine. 

They lie there in silence for a while. Remus feels the moment Sirius comes too again, stiffening beside him. It’s awkward, tense. Slowly, Sirius shucks Remus’ jumper off his chest and they both lie there, completely naked, staring at the roof. 

They hear James and Peter come into the room, “Told you.” 

“Don’t believe you.” James muttered back, “Pads, mate, you in here?”

“James, they’re probably having a meaningful conversation.” Peter huffs, “Look at the curtains.” 

“Well, I want to see him.”

“You can later.” Peter offers, “Sirius, if you want James to come in, say something back.”

“Don’t come in!” Sirius shouts, and silence lingers outside. 

“See, he doesn’t want you too.” Peter says after a while, “Completely silent.” 

“The charm must still be on.” Remus muttered. 

“Oh.” Sirius nodded. 

“Fine.” James groaned, “Come to my bed later, Sirius. I’m going to sleep.”

Sirius and Remus lie there for a while, listening to James and Peter get ready for bed. Honestly, Remus is glad Peter didn’t say anything to James about them having sex. 

Or, well, he doesn’t think he said anything. 

Not that he’d be mad if James found out Remus is gay. He’s pretty sure James already knows. But, he’s sure Sirius would want to tell him about that. Sirius would probably have some strange things to say about it, so, it’s best if Sirius is the one to lay it all out there. 

Once the room goes silent again, and the lights are all turned out, they dare a glance over at each other. Just as quickly, they look away. 

Remus starts to feel a little guilty. He knows how he feels about Sirius, and Sirius clearly hadn’t felt the same way. At least not prior to now. So, he decides to bite the fucking bullet, despite his own judgments, and confessess. 

“I liked that.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Sirius nodded, eyes fixed on the roof, “Felt good. You made me cum really hard.”

Merlin, he really doesn’t make anything easy for Remus, does he? 

“Yeah.” Remus nods, “But like… I liked it in a gay way.”

Sirius tenses beside him again. 

“Erm, cause I’m gay.” Remus fills in, refusing to look anywhere but the stupid poster of a half naked motorbike girl on Sirius’ ceiling. “And I like you.”

“You… like me?” Sirius mumbles. 

“Yeah.” Remus breathes, “A lot… I think you’re… brilliant. You’re really, really, fucking brilliant. And also really good at sex.”

Sirius swallowed, “So, do you think I’m pretty?”

“Yeah.” Remus nodded, “I said it, before.” 

“I thought you might have just been doing sex talk.” 

“Oh…” Remus swallows, “Were you just doing sex talk?”

“No.” Sirius shakes his head, “I just… no, it was all honest. But, girls often make up sex talk, so-“

“I’m not a girl.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Sirius swallowed, “So you… you fancy me, for real?”

“Yeah.” Remus nods, “A lot.”

“Oh.” 

Remus chewed on his lip. 

“Excuse me.” Sirius muttered, and then climbed out of bed. 

He didn’t even stop to put trousers on or anything. Remus listened as he walked over and pulled back the curtains of James’ bed. 

“Oh, Sirius, hey, I- Merlin! Where are your clothes?”

“Over there. Remus and I had sex.” 

There was silence for a while before James said back, “What?”

“Remus and I had sex.” 

“When?” James asked, fucking gobsmacked. 

“Just then.” Sirius said, “Before you came into the room.” 

“Wh- why?”

“It was your idea!” He said defensively, “You said I should just fuck Remus, so I did. I fucked Remus- or, rather, he fucked me.” 

“And you just decided to come tell me this, still very naked?”

“Yeah.” Sirius said, “I think I can still feel his cum inside-“

“Bloody hell, Sirius. You know he can- just, get in.”

“Do you want me to put clothes on?” 

“Merlin, I don’t care, just…”

“He’s gay, you know?” Remus heard Sirius shuffle into the bed, “Said he likes me.” 

“Wow, really?” James gasped, “I had no fucking idea. It’s not like he stares at you longingly or anything.” 

“Oh…” Sirius mumbled, “I think I’m homophobic, by the way.” 

“Sorry?”

“Yeah, he said he kissed Pete and that made me feel kind of nauseous.” 

There was another long stretch of silence, and then from his own bed, Peter muttered, “You owe me twenty gallons, James.” 

“Fuck.” James muttered, drawing the curtains around them, “Look, Sirius, you’re not homophobic.”

“Erm, yes I am.” Sirius said in defence, “Why else would I get mad about Remus getting involved with other blokes?”

“Oh, Sirius.” James sighed, and cast a silencing charm around them. 

☆ ★ ☆

Remus is startled awake by the curtains swishing back. Not that he slept very deeply, just a little nap. He’s still in Sirius’ bed. He was too anxious to move. 

Now that he sees Sirius standing there, still very naked, he feels like he should have left. 

Sirius lifts up the corner of his blanket and slides under, closing the curtain around them before casting another silencing charm. 

He tugs at the sheet and gestures for Remus to get under. And then they both lie there again, shoulder to shoulder, staring at the roof. 

“You okay?” Remus asks after a long silence. He feels so awkward about it. 

“Yep.” Sirius nods, “Just… trying to figure out the least scary way to ask you to be my boyfriend.”

Remus’ heart falls out from under him, “What?”

“Oh.” Sirius mutters, “I guess I just did, didn’t I?”

“Are you serious?” Remus gasps, turning to look at him. 

Sirius smirks and turns his head slowly to look back at Remus. 

“Don’t answer that.” He mutters, “I’m…”

“Yeah.” Sirius nods, genuinity behind his pretty, pale eyes, “Erm, yeah, James told me I’m gay.”

“What?” Remus gaped, “What do you mean he told you you were gay?”

Sirius shrugged, “Like, I’ve been gay this whole time, and I really like you. I just didn’t know it, is all. I thought I was homophobic, can you believe that? James just made me realise I was jealous.”

“Jealous… of Peter?” 

“Yes. Never look at him again, please.” Sirius said sternly. 

Remus furrowed his brow, looking at Sirius in shock. 

Sirius broke into a grin, “I’m kidding. But really, I did get jealous. I’m jealous about you a lot. It’s why I get so angry at you sometimes.”

“Oh.” Remus swallowed, “That…”

“Yeah.” Sirius smiled, laughing at himself softly, “It’s stupid. I’m stupid.”

“You’re not.” Remus corrects, “You’re really smart. You’re the smartest person I know. Sometimes this stuff is just really hard, I get it. I know.” 

He blushes, and it’s fucking adorable. It’s always adorable. 

“You’re so sweet, Moony.” Sirius hums, kissing Remus’ shoulder, “So, will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Be mine?” He asks. 

“Oh…” Remus’ heart is racing. It’s going so fast, beating so hard he can feel it in his throat, “Yes. Fuck, yes please.” 

Sirius breaks out into the most brilliant smile before rolling over and wrapping himself around Remus, “Yay.” 

Remus hugs him back, entangling their legs together and hoping they never have to untangle, “You really mean it?”

“Yeah.” Sirius hums, pressing his lips to Remus’ skin a few times, “Oh, I was so crazy for not knowing it, Moonshine. I’m mental about you.” 

Remus feels extatic, “I’m mental about you too, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, I really like that.” Sirius mused, “I really like you.”

Remus chuckled, “Okay, sweetheart.” 

Sirius hums, content, snuggling closer into Remus’ side, “God, imagine my mother now. Not just shagging an unregistered werewolf bloke, but now he’s my boyfriend?”

“She’d have a heart attack.” 

“Good.” Sirius smiled, “Oh, I love when everything just comes together like this. James is so exited. He owes Pete a lot of money, they’ve been betting on us for ages.” 

Remus snorts, “I think Pete’s been cheating then. He’s known I’m into you for ages.”

Sirius snorts, “Of course he is.” He lifts his head to kiss Remus sweetly, “Let me take you out on a date, Moonybaby?”

Remus melted, sighing against Sirius’ lips, “Yeah, please.” 

“Oh, I’m gonna woo you so hard, you won’t even know what hit you.” Sirius smiled, “And then we’re gonna shag so much again, because I didn’t know shagging was actually fun.”

Remus snorts and kissed Sirius some more, “I did, I was just waiting for you to prove it.” 

The way that Sirius swooned made Remus feel like he was on top of the fucking world. 

⋅⋆ ☼ ☆ ☾ ☆ ☼ ⋆⋅

HAPPY HORNY SATURDAY! i hope you enjoyed this one, it was very fun to write. just a silly little bit of smut because why the hell not, i say?!

don't forget to reblog and commentary is ALWAYS welcome here. thankies!

Since you guys were interested I’m just tagging you here :)) hope you enjoyed!! <3 @stranger200-blog @addsalwayssick

[missjomarch]

Josephine - Luke Hughes

A/N: This is the longest thing I have ever written. Like actually. I heard the song Josephine by Pony Bradshaw and my brain was begging me to do something creative with it, so I wrote this. But I'm on my period so it turned very sad and angsty quickly. So now you all get to suffer along with me! With that said please please read the warnings and if at any point you feel uncomfortable click away.

Word Count: 3.7k 😳

Warnings: Grief and angst with no real happy ending or comfort. Cursing, crying, mentions of blood and pain. A half second on 18+ content but no explicit details.

(Portions in italics are flash backs. Enjoy, lovelies. 🫶)

Luke Hughes sat sprawled in one of the cushioned armchairs spaced across the rooftop bar the New Jersey Devils currently resided on. His view of the New York skyline was fuzzy, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the beer in his left hand or the smoke from the joint in his right. The one thing he was sure of was that he didn’t want to be here, and he damn sure didn’t want to be sober. Luke could feel the pitying looks from his brother and captain all the way across the bar, but at least they hadn’t made any comments tonight. 

The team had won the game earlier in the day by a large margin and Luke wasn’t beating himself up over minuscule mistakes like he used to. No, that wasn’t the issue. In fact, Luke was playing some of the best hockey he had in years. His on-ice performance was probably the only reason he was even still on the team, considering that he had been skipping most morning skates and all public appearances for the past few weeks. 

He had seen the therapist the team provided and taken the weeks off that the trainers had suggested, so he isn’t sure why they insist on continually doing mental checkups on him. It was irritating. Especially when he didn’t give them the answers they wanted, so they sent Jack to pester him instead. All it did was remind him of you. 

“Luke.” 

His head snapped towards where you sat in the passenger seat of his car, eyes shining and a soft smile on your lips. 

“The light has been green for like 30 seconds, babe. What’s going on in that pretty head, hm?” 

Luke always swore that your sweet voice could melt 20 feet of snow in the dead of winter. It was like coming home from a long day to a warm house. It was one of his favorite things about you. So, because he knew you’d ask the question again, he simply shrugged his shoulders in response. He fully planned to keep his troubles to himself in an attempt not to worry you, but then your manicured hand was running through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Tell me about it, Lu. What’s wrong?” 

With your use of the nickname, he was gone. Suddenly all the world’s problems were spilling from his lips, and he couldn’t stop them even if he wanted to. You tended to have that effect on people. You were just so damn easy to talk to. And the best part? You almost always knew how to make it better. A quick kiss and a Band-Aid, and Luke was back on his way with a smile. 

“Luke,” you mumbled, “Luke…” 

“Luke.” 

Jack stood in front of his brother, shaking his shoulder to break him from his trance. 

“You okay?” Jack questioned, not missing the shine in Luke’s eyes as they were torn from the skyline view. He watched as Luke took a deep drag from the joint in his hand, exhaling the smoke as he attempted to clear the lump from his throat. 

“Fine, Jack.” 

“Bullshit,” Jack couldn’t help the scoff he let out, “Get up, we’re going home.” 

Luke didn’t have it in him to argue. Not that he would have, anyway. He never wanted to leave the house in the first place, especially after the situation Jack got him into the last time they had gone out. 2 months ago, his brother had dragged him to this same rooftop bar insisting that it’d be good for him to get out there again. It took all of 30 minutes before Jack was pushing Luke in the direction of a random girl. “A good fuck will fix you right up”, Jack had claimed. 

“Luuuuke,” the girl below him moaned as he kissed down her neck. He didn’t know her name, didn’t particularly care to either. He was a bit too busy resenting his brother for setting him up with this random girl in the first place. 

He tried to ignore the hot anger flowing through him, tried to focus on the heavy breathing of the blonde and the way her nails were raking down his back. Luke’s hands dipped under her shirt, quickly finding her bra and giving it a harsh tug downwards. His fingers fumbled deftly until they gripped her tits, drawing a sharp gasp from the girl. 

“Oh! Lu, please,” she whined. When he didn’t respond, she went to pull his face to hers. But Luke had froze, brain short circuiting at the nickname he hadn’t heard in over 8 months. 

His throat was burning. His breath turned ragged as he yanked his hands from beneath her shirt. He stared at her with wild eyes, chest heaving. 

“Get out,” he ground out. His heart was pounding. What was wrong with him? 

“Are you okay?” The blond started back at him with a horrified expression, and Luke had to bite his tongue to keep from spitting out any malicious words. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Leave, please.” He begged, unable to look her in the face.

“Luke, I don’t understand,” she tried to reason, “Luke…” 

“Luke.” 

Jack was looking at him expectantly from the driver’s side of his sleek BMW as he navigated the late-night New Jersey traffic. Luke blinked slowly, trying to clear the bitter memory from his foggy mind. 

“Sorry, what’d you say?” Luke questioned, choosing to ignore the concern blaring in his brother’s eyes. Jack seemingly decided to let it be, instead jumping back into whatever he originally asked. 

“I was asking if you thought the stadium series would be a good time to introduce Sydney to mom and dad? I know it’s only been a few months, but I don’t know when they’ll be in town again.” 

Luke nodded, “Are you just going to do it at dinner? Or the hotel?” 

Jack hesitated, clearly contemplating the options before lighting up, “What if I brought her to the family skate? She’s been wanting to learn anyways! It be just like when you brought jo-” Jack choked on his words, immediately recognizing his mistake. He turned towards his brother, attempting to get a read on his face in the dim light of the passing streetlamps. But Luke had already shut down, face turned to stare blankly out the window. 

Jack reached over to give a comforting squeezing to Luke’s left shoulder, “Luke.” 

“LUKE!” you squealed as your hands white knuckled his sweatshirt. He giggled at your skating stance before pulling you to his chest. 

“You alright there, Bambi?” He smirked down at you as you sent him a glare. 

“I’m new to this, asshole. It’s not my fault my teacher is no good,” you threw back at him. It was your turn to smirk as Luke’s mouth hung open in mock offense. 

“I’ll have you know that I’ve taught hundreds of kids across the state of New Jersey how to properly skate.” 

“Those poor kids,” you quickly retorted, sticking your tongue out as he scowled at you. However, that scowl quickly faded into a look of mischief and your face dropped as his arms loosened around you.

“Fine. Suit yourself, Bambi.” Luke let you go, giving you the lightest of shoves backwards. Then you were stranded. Forced to watch as your boyfriend skated backwards away from you, leaving you wide eyed and terrified as you froze on the ice. Your fear quickly turned to anger, and Luke marked the shift in your demeanor with a laugh. 

“Luke Warren Hughes, you come back here and get me right now.” 

“Nope. Come and get me, baby.” Luke winked at you as he skated past, only serving to further frustrate you. You’d never admit that his plan was working, but the anger was motivating. You let out a strangled groan before starting to shuffle forward, sliding your skates like Luke taught you. You were doing well for a while, slowly making your way towards where Luke was taunting you from the boards behind the net. That was until two kids flew past you, knocking you off balance and sending you scrambling to regain it. 

“Luke! Luke, Luke, Luke,” you called, too focused on your slipping feet to notice if your boyfriend was coming to your aid. Then you lost balance completely, tumbling down towards the ice. You closed your eyes as you avoided flinging your arms out to catch yourself, still heeding Luke’s warnings even as he got you in this mess in the first place. You prepared yourself for the cold hard burn of your backside hitting the ice, but it never came. Instead you landed in a pair of unfamiliar arms, barely recognizing that you weren’t on the ground before being hauled to a standing position. You carefully turned around and were met with Jack’s smiling face. 

“Knight in shining armor, at your service,” Jack grinned, adding a small salute for effect. You rolled your eyes, scanning the ice for Luke. 

“How long have you been following behind me?” 

“Ever since Luke pretended to leave you stranded. He planned the whole thing, I was behind you the entire time to save you from your inevitable demise,” Jack poked you, smile growing impossibly wider at the annoyed look gracing your face. 

“Big words for someone who never went to college,” you shot at him, needing anything to level the playing field between you. It was then that Luke finally returned, skating to a smooth stop to your left. 

“What’d I miss?” 

“Your girlfriend was insulting my intelligence after I graciously saved her precious be-hind,” Jack spoke, adding a bit more than his usual sassiness into the bit. Luke turned to tsk at you. 

“Now, now baby. We can’t make fun of people just because they’re less fortunate than us. It’s not Jacky’s fault he’s stupid,” Luke joked, loving the way your eyes lit up when you realized that he was joining your side. Jack, however, stood slack jawed across from you. 

“Now what the hell, Luke? I went along with your little plan, and this is how you repay me?” You and Luke just blinked at him, silly little grins sitting on your face. “Go to hell, both of you,” Jack scoffed before skating off. Once he was gone, you turned towards your boyfriend. Your pout returned, but it was quickly kissed away. 

“I promised you I’d never let you fall, baby. I just never said it’d be me who caught you.” 

You scowled, “you’re such a smart ass.” 

“Love you too, Princess,” Luke grinned. You begrudgingly allowed him to pull you into his chest, the warmth he radiated melting the glare right off your face. 

You turned your head to press a kiss into his jacket-clad chest, right over his heart. A warm smile graced your lips, “I love you, Lukey.” 

“Lukey!”

John Marino stood before him on the ice, stick poised to do the defensive drill coach had instructed them on. 

“You’re out of it today, kid. Are we going to do this drill or not?” 

“Yeah, my bad. Let’s go,” Luke nodded his head, once again trying to shake the thoughts of you from his mind. He had just barely cleared his vision before the puck was dropped, and John was racing towards him. Practice continued like that, Luke losing focus periodically until one of his teammates pulled him back into the moment. 

When he trudged into the locker room an hour later, he was more than ready to go home. These were usually the days he would most appreciate having you to come home to. Leaving a hard practice and coming home to fall asleep in your arms was the best feeling. He tried not to think too much about the gaping hole that memory left in his chest as he untied his skates. 

Once he was dressed in his sweats he rushed from the locker room, hoping to escape the arena before anyone could question his mental wellbeing. Luke made it to the car without any hounding from the guys or trainers, but he had to wait for what felt like an eternity before Jack finally made his way into the parking garage. 

“What the hell took you so long?” Luke questioned, hopping into the passenger seat as Jack unlocked the car doors. 

“Coach wanted to talk to me for a second. You could’ve gotten the keys from my bag, yknow.”

“Yeah, but then I would’ve been tempted to leave you here,” Luke smirked at his brother. 

Jack only rolled his eyes, all too familiar with Luke’s teasing. His mind swirled with the reminders his coach had left him with after their brief post-practice discussion. Coach was getting extremely concerned about Luke and the lack of focus he displayed at practice and games. Jack was also concerned, and so was most of the team. He knew he should bring it up, but the joy in Luke’s eyes was so rare these days that Jack couldn’t bring himself to disturb it. He just wanted to support his brother the best he could, but Luke wouldn’t open up to him. Or anyone, for that matter. Not his mom, not Quinn, not even his old teammates from Michigan. Luke wouldn’t talk to anyone about you.  So Jack took what Luke gave him. Watching late night hockey, Door Dashing dinner, or playing video games for hours on end. Anything to keep his brother occupied, and make him realize that he wasn’t alone. 

Luke finally made his way into his room at 11 pm later that night, feeling relatively okay after eating dinner and watching a Canucks game with Jack. He had felt so unlike himself lately that any small reprieve from reality was a welcomed gift. He also knew that it helped Jack worry about him just a little bit less. 

Luke had just turned out his bathroom light after brushing his teeth when his door creaked open, revealing Jack standing in the doorway. It wasn’t unusual for Jack to check on him before bed, but it had recently become more frequent. 

“You good to leave for practice at 8 tomorrow?” Jack questioned. 

Luke nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be up.” 

“Better be. I’m not in the mood to drag your ass out of bed in the morning.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but the wary look on Jack’s face made him hold his tongue on the snarky response he was about to shoot back. 

“Promise, I’ll be good to go at 8.”       

Jack deemed that a good enough answer, and went to shut the door.

“Alright. Night, Luke.” 

“Luke…” you shakily whispered on the phone. Your voice was wobbly and high pitched, the tears streaming down your face evident in your tone. 

“Baby?” Luke spoke into the phone, “What’s wrong?” 

It was an hour and a half until puck drop, and you should’ve been on your way to the stadium by now. Luke’s furrowed brows caught the attention of Jack in the next stall over, stopping his movements from where he was lacing up his skates. 

“I was on my way to the arena, and I…” a broken sob escaped your mouth, startling Luke as he tried to fathom what could’ve possibly happened after he left the house. 

 “Someone hit me.” 

Luke jumped to his feet, “What do you mean hit you? What happened?” 

“I don’t know. Someone ran a red light or something and they hit my car. I think I spun into a pole,” your breath was growing ragged as you recited the wreck. 

“Are you okay? Where are you? I’m coming to get you,” Luke rushed out as he began grabbing his clothes back out of his bag. Half the locker room was staring now, all with varying looks of concern. 

“I don’t know what to do. I’m bleeding,” you squeaked. “Lukey, there’s so much blood.”              

This sent Luke into a panic. He was stripping his gear as fast as humanly possible while simultaneously yelling at Jack to give him to car keys. Jack’s concerns fell on deaf ears as Luke undressed, and he finally decided that following Luke was the safest option. 

“No. You’re okay, baby. I just need you to tell me where you are, okay? I’ll be there so soon, just tell me where,” Luke begged. He knew logically that the cops would arrive before he could, but he needed to be there with you. 

“Don’t know. But my head hurts so bad,” you whimpered out. Luke tried to ignore the way he could hear your voice weakening as you spoke. 

“Just stay on the phone with me, love. I’m on my way to come get you, yeah?”

Luke tried to reassure you as he shoved his feet into his shoes and rushed from the locker room. Jack was hot on his tail, car keys in hand. 

“ ‘m sorry, Lu,” your whisper was barely heard by Luke as he sprinted down the hallways of Prudential Center. 

“For what, love?” 

“I wanted to be at your game tonight,” you mumbled. 

“It’s fine, baby. There’ll be a million more games for you to come to, yeah?” 

Luke attempted to comfort you as he searched for your location, plugging it into the GPS as Jack pulled out of the parking garage. Luke could only hope the pregame traffic wouldn’t get in the way. 

“Mhmm. Lukey?” 

“Yeah, baby?” 

Your voice was barely a whisper, “I love you.” 

Luke swore he could feel his heart shatter at the crack in your voice. There were tears streaming from his face as he pushed Jack to drive faster. 

“I love you too, princess. So much. Jacky and I are going to be there so soon. I just need you to hang on for a few minutes. Can you do that for me?” 

Luke’s voice was frantic and only grew more so when he heard your phone tumbling out of your hand. 

“Baby? You’ve gotta stay awake, okay?” Luke pleaded, as tears streamed down his face. His hands shook where he held the phone to his ear. 

“Baby? Please tell me you’re okay. I just need you to say something.” 

Luke’s begging continued until the line went dead. 

“Fuck,” Luke muttered, sobs beginning to wrack his body. Jack looked at him frantically as he continued to navigate the streets of New Jersey. 

“Luke? What the hell happened?” Jack kept spitting questions, but he might as well have been talking to a brick wall. “Snap out of it, Luke.” 

“Luke.” 

Luke awoke to Jack shaking him violently, and he tasted the salty tears streaming down his face before he felt them. ‘No. Not again,’  Luke thought. He shot up in bed, sending Jack scrambling backwards to avoid knocking heads. Luke’s head whipped back and forth wildly as his eyes searched the room. ‘Please, please, please,’ he begged the universe. He ignored the way his brain reminded him of the truth, ignored his brother’s pitying look, ignored the cold bed beside him where you should’ve been. It was if the whole world was pointing and laughing at his grieving heart. ‘Look at this idiot,’ they all seemed to say, ‘He still thinks he can save her.’ 

“Fuck,” Luke exhaled, finally giving up his futile attempts at disproving what he knew was his reality. 

Jack stared as his younger brother lost himself to grief once again. Watching as Luke’s hands disappeared into his curls, head bowed as sob after sob wracked his body. Jack felt helpless knowing he couldn’t take this pain from his little brother. All he could do was hold him and promise to be there through it all. 

“I can’t keep doing this,” Luke whispered into Jack’s shoulder. “Every time I wake up, I lose her all over again, and I can’t do it anymore.” 

Jack hesitates, unsure exactly what to say in this situation. You were always the one with the best advice, the one who could handle anything. 

“We’re going to get you through this, okay? You’re not alone in fighting this,” Jack paused, contemplating how to suggest his next thought. “I know you think you’re fine, but I really think you need help Luke. She would want you to get help.” 

Luke nodded, knowing his brother was right. You would hate to see him like this. Ever the caretaker, you had always been the first person to chastise him for not taking proper care of his mental health during hockey season. If you saw him like this, you’d pull him into your arms and then absolutely rip him a new one until he promised to take care of himself. 

“I know,” Luke mumbled, “I’ll start seeing a therapist. I think I need to step away from hockey for a bit too. It’s not fair to the guys that my mental health is affecting the team performance.” 

“I think that’s smart,” Jack agreed. “The guys might not understand what you’re going through, but they know it’s not your fault Luke. They want you to get better too.” 

Luke could only nod, trying to accept Jack’s words as the truth and fight the part of his brain that was saying this was all his fault. Luke was so tired, but he wasn’t willing to go back to sleep when he knew memories of you was what awaited him. 

“I’ll call the trainers tomorrow. I don’t really want to go back to sleep, can we watch a movie or something?” 

“Of course,” Jack agreed, despite the exhaustion weighing him down. “I’ll even let you pick.” 

A slow, knowing grin spread across Luke’s features, “Even Secretariat?” 

Jack’s sigh could be heard all the way in New York, but he smiled nonetheless. Just happy to see that Luke was making small steps towards returning to himself. 

“Even Secretariat.” 

So that’s how Luke and Jack spent their evening, watching movies and eating obscene amounts of popcorn. Luke had smiled to himself for most of the night, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. He knew the process would be slow and that he might never truly get back to ‘normal’. But admitting his pain and asking for help, that was enough for now. 

[jaywritessometimes]

Nat x Inexperienced!Reader

nsfw!! 18+

It was well into the soccer season. You'd been to more of Nat's games than you could count. So when you asked to miss just this one, Nat had no issue with it. You had a lot of work to get done anyways.

You're sat watching the tv while working on some projects for work. You tapped away on that laptop for hours on end, binge watching whatever they latest show was. You were so focused on your laptop, that you hardly noticed when Nat walked down the stairs.

She took her spot next to you on the couch. You only noticed her once she had sat down. You takes your hands through your hair, and expelled the breath in your lungs.

"Hey, what's up? I know that sigh." She questioned.

"Just this work thing, the guys haven't touched the thing, and the deadline is in 2 days. So on top of my own work, I have to finish and supervise the work of 2 complete morons." You blurt. "I'm sorry, I didn't even ask about your game. How was it?"

Nat looks over to you, that goofy grin on her face. "The game was good, we lost. I guess that's what happens when our good luck charm doesn't show." She's joking, but you can't help but feel a little guilty for having to miss her game.

"I'm sorry babe, I wish i could have been there."

You save your files, and shit your laptop. You'd take a break for a little while. The laptop is shoved aside as you crawl into Nat's lap. You sling your arms around the back of her neck, your fingers playing with the hair on the nape of her neck.

She smiles at you before leaning in. This was always how it started. She started slow, and you followed her lead. After all- you were new to this, and she knew a great deal more about these things than you did. As the kiss went on, you became more desperate.

You'd never been with anybody this way before, but Nat made you feel things you'd never felt before. You were worked up from just a little kissing. You attempt to change the direction of the kiss, from soft sweet kisses, to hungrier and dirtier ones.

She smirks as you take charge, eventually moving on from her mouth, and down her chin and neck. You kiss around for a while, not even noticing your hips, which began to buck themselves into Nat's lap.

She giggles when she notices it. "All worked up just from some kissing baby? What's gotten into you?" She jests.

You whine into her neck, your face heating up with embarrassment. You reluctantly move yourself off her lap, and onto the floor between her legs.

"Hey, you didn't have to move, it was fine, I was just teasing." She says.

You look up at her through hooded eyes, and start to remove her shorts. You tug them all the way down, leaving her on her underwear (i'm sorry i refuse to call them panties).

"Can I?" You ask, knowing that question never fails to get you going, and hoping it does the same for her.

All she does is nod weakly, along with a little whisper that's released from her throat when your fingers reach the band and brush her sensitive stomach. Your fingers play with the little ribbon on the front of them, while your mouth goes to work on her thighs. You had no idea what you were doing, you just tried your best to copy the things she had done to you.

Your mouth leaves wet open mouthed kisses along her inner thighs, and as you move up towards where she wants you, she begins to squirm. You grin to yourself in triumph. She eventually gets impatient, and removes her underwear herself.

Your jaw drops at the sight. She was soaked. All because of you.

You dive in (literally) like it's your last meal. Nat's hands instantly go to your hair, guiding you. You start with little strokes of your tongue, avoiding her clit, wanting to tease her just a little longer. She tasted heavenly. You'd tasted her before, from her own fingers, but this was so much better.

Eventually, you get bored with the teasing, and give her the pressure she had been desiring from you. Your tongue moves in an 8 motion, just like she did to you. She obviously liked it, considering the response you received. She grabbed your hair and brought you closer to her, your scalp tingling, but only intensifying your pleasure.

"God- Fuck y/n that's so good. Just like how I do it." She let out between moans and whines. Her eyes barley left yours, only to shut or roll back.

You had always found her voice attractive. But right now? You could come just from her voice praising you between the sounds she made because of you.

"Rub your clit baby, I want you to come with me. God yah just like that. Do the same to yourslef, come on baby."

You rubbed yourself in the same pattern as your tongue moved. You could tell she was getting close. You moved your tongue down to tease her entrance. She let out a nearly pathetic moan when you tested her entrance with your tongue.

"Oh my god. You're doing so good. You're doing such a good job babe, I'm almost there. Come with me baby. Come on, keep rubbing your clit like that, yah. Fuck-"

Her entrance spasamed around your touch, the same way yours did around her fingers when you were on the edge. You brought your uncocuppied hand to her clit, and began to apply pressure again. That was all it took.

Her legs shook as her orgasm crashed over her. Yours did as well, and you struggles to keep your hands and tongue working, but you were determined to help her ride out her high as you did your own.

Your movements got sloppy, but they did the job. Nat looked down at you from her place on the couch, her bangs stuck to her forehead with sweat, and a post orgasm glow making her appear like a goddess.

You grinned up at her, not able to say much of anything, your heads still in the clouds.

"Oh babe, you have got to do that more often. That was amazing." She praised.

You let your head rest against her thigh as she stroked your her with her fingers. You wished you could stay like that forever.

[xox-little-troublemaker-xox]

Did you miss us?

Pairings: Wanda x reader , Natasha x reader , yelena x reader

Words: 1,319

Warnings: 18+ Dark Themes, blood,knife kink ,magic use, restraints,Cheating, slight CNC, Use of Toys, Mommy/Daddy Kink, Orgasm Control?, Strap On Sex, Oral (R,W,N receiving) Semi public Sex, Kidnapping? Language Warning , Dom! WandaNat, Sub! Reader …… if missed any let me know

This is my first ever time writing a fic so I’m sorry if bad or terribly written I also terrible at proof reading so I’m sorry for any spelling mistake or grammatical errors forgive me please . Also would like to give thanks and credit to @yelenasdiary for helping with this

I woke up from a cozy nap on the sofa with my beautiful girlfriend Yelena , her arms wrapped round my waist she was still peacefully sleeping . So I carefully wiggled out of her grasp and replaced myself with pillow so I wouldn’t disturb her sleep and decided I would go out on nightly walk while she sleeps I went up stairs and got dressed and headed for the front door.

The crisp cold weather hit me like a slap in the face as I made my way to forest. Walking in the dark gloomy woods during winter sounded like great Idea till I found myself being thrown on the ground head hitting one the massive tree roots. I got up trying to see what just happened with throbbing pain coursing through my veins up to point of impact of my head vision slightly blurred. For as far as my fuzzy head could see there was nothing so I tried walking back to try get some help so I could get to a hospital. each step I took I could hear the echoing sound of another this caused panic to hit me like a brick and trying to move as quick as possible but also as quite as possible so I could to not alert the other person in the forest of my where bouts.

I got to point where I could see specks of light and roads poking through the trees, I got excited and celebrated in my head that I was so close to safety. just as I was about to get through the last of the trees , I was grabbed by my legs and dragged back. I must have hit my head again because when I opened my eyes, I was tied to a tree blood slightly pouring out over the ropes I could hear the sound of crackling fire behind me. I turned my head as far as I could to see a roaring bright orange fire inching towards me that's when it hit the smell of petrol around me it was extremely potent right where the ropes were tied round me. As much as it hurt me, I moved as much as I could to try and escape but the more I moved the more friction I was creating between the tree and the rope.

The rope set on fire due to the friction I was creating which burned some of the rope causing it to rip a part and me being able to slowly wriggle my way out the ropes and fall to floor due to my body being so weak from exhaustion and blood loss. As I was getting up from the ground I got lifted up and thrown back into the the tree. The weird thing is I couldn’t see no one anywhere that’s when I realised the red that was swirling round my waist “ Wanda” I tried to scream with most the energy I had left in my body that’s when I heard two faint sadistic laughs in the distance heading towards me I couldn’t figure out who the second person was till a familiar knife came flying towards my head it just skimmed the side of my face that’s when I look and realised it’s one Natasha signature knives .

That’s when the pair came into my eye view. I was bought to the floor still being restricted by Wanda magic. After sitting there unable to move while they talked for what felt like forever they approached me Natasha spoke first “hi y/n my love” said in a sickly sweet tone Wanda spoke next “we missed you” Natasha approaches me bringing a knife to my throat and whispers in my ear and says “did you miss us kotenok” I’d be lying if I said that didn’t send heat straight to my core . She licked and nibbled my ear and my face Betrayed me it’s was flushed bright red I could feel the smirk plastered on her face . She began kissing my neck and said “tell me you don’t want us and I will stop” when I didn’t respond she bit my neck slightly causing me to moan and scream “ YES PLEASE DON’T STOP” that’s when I found my self flipped on to my back my clothes magicked of by Wanda and Natasha eating me out as If I was her last meal I could see Wanda slowly massaging her clit to the display in front of her seeing her like that turned me on more .

In between moans I begged for Natasha to keep going and Wanda to come over “ Wanda please” but my pls fell on deaf ears “that’s not my name kotenok” I knew what she wanted to hear and it wasn’t till Natasha sucked my clit harshly that I ended up giving in “ MOMMY PLEASE” this was like music to Wanda ears because that’s when she sat her self on my face and said “ you don’t get to cum till I do “ I begin bucking my hips against Natasha face and she can tell I’m getting close so she stops completely and the whine I let out into Wanda pussy earned me a slapped to the thigh from Natasha “ mommy said no cumming till she does so none of that get back to work” she said as i now feel her on my thigh she started riding my thigh spreading her wetness. I was going whine again till I felt her shove 2 fingers into my tight hole causing me to flex my thigh arch my back and moan send vibrations through Wanda which ended in Natasha to moan as well and Wanda to cum on my tongue “OH GOOD FUCKING GIRL” Wanda screamed.

Wanda climbed off my face only to magic her favourite vibe to and strap it against my clit. Natasha got off my thigh and took Wanda original space on my face. With Natasha on my face I couldn’t see what wanda was doing , she hadn’t turned the vibe on so I was suspicious to what she was going to do was I just going to be left on the edge?! Of the blissful finish line I was waiting to go over . I had all these silent questions till I felt something poking at my entrance then entering me. I knew just by the feeling it was Wandas favourite strap, she ended up bottoming me out which caused me to moan loud sending vibrations into Natasha. When she felt I had enough time to adjust she turned the vibe on and began to thrust into me at an unforgiving peace I didn’t take me long to be right at the edge again moaning away into Natasha pussy causing her to fall over the edge.

Natasha climbed of me and began using her knife to lighting carve the initials N and W into my stomach this turned me on so much more adding to my arousal . With the vibrations and wanda brutal peace I was getting lost in pleasure and they both could tell I was close with the arching my back they simultaneously said “ cum for us pretty girl” and with that I let go. After I had cummed Wanda used her magic to clean us all up and clothe us all. I tried to get up but my legs were like jelly Natasha saw this and laughed “mommy fuck you that good?” She said with smirk plastered on her face . I eye rolled her at that comment and with full attitude said “whatever” that was a mistake on my part because I was then thrown over her shoulder and she spanked me and said “what was that slut had something to say” I stayed quiet after that I knew better then to speak up again.

@whorecollector69 here’s your fic

[goshdarnitjay]

i hate them so much *spoken affectionately*

The first and third one are absolutely, ridiculously accurate. and you know what? the puppy werewolf kinda makes me sad, because hunters would be hunting it :((( i need to protecc

[darthxdaddi]

Anakin LOVES to make you squirt with his dick. Like, he'll probe at your g-spot perfect with the fat head of his cock until eventually his sex is surround by the warm substance of your squirt. Then he'll fuck you, no, jackhammer into your cunt so he can make sure that your piss sprays and not trickles! he loves loves LOVEEES the mess. He thinks it's gross yet sexy that you are covered in your own fluids ♥️

[pariskim]

the long awaited unasked for joyce kelly coming out fic ❤️ lmk your thoughts thank uuu

[happy-hermit]

HIII I’m back with another little thing for the Desert Alien Scar au :) This is Xisuma and Scar’s first meeting — X rescues a young Scar from his dying planet. Hope you like it!!!

( @stiffyck )

=============================

The planet below him was dying, barely visible beneath the storm of sand and lightning. Xisuma stood alone in the viewing dock of his ship, a lone mourner at a quiet funeral. All the inhabitants had already evacuated, the emergency rocket's energy signatures gone from his radar. It was an empty world, and still Xisuma stood and waited.

Planets died all the time. Knowing that didn’t make it any easier to watch.

The monitor on his right beeped and trilled as it kept on with the readings, an alert popping up detailing the severity of the most recent earthquake. A separate window was tracking the storms. At the bottom was a rough estimate of how long it would be until the end. Only a few hours, now.

Xisuma fidgeted with the fabric of his gloves, flexing his hands as he stared out the window. There was nothing he could do but be a witness. Even he couldn’t save a planet.

A shrill tone from the monitor pulled him abruptly out of his musings, and his head snapped towards it, eyes narrowing slightly behind his helmet. A red light was blinking in the corner, small and steady. Xisuma’s heart tripped over itself and quickened, legs already carrying him towards the screen for a better look, hands outstretched to type commands.

A distress signal, coming from an empty planet on the brink of destruction. There was a large chance that it was just a malfunction, a product of the machinery short-circuiting in the chaos. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But something was telling him that wasn’t right.

His fingers flew across the keyboard as his eyes flickered across the screen. An image of the planet below popped up, spinning and zooming in until the location of the distress signal was displayed, a single red dot blinking in and out. With a flick of his hand, the coordinates copied itself onto the monitor on his wrist. Already halfway out the door, he opened communications.

“I’m taking the LifeBoat,” he said without preamble, cutting off chatter from the rest of the crew. “We received a distress signal, I’m going down to check it out.”

“It’s probably a blank, X,” said a crew member, voice solemn. “Are you sure?”

Xisuma clenched his jaw. “I’m going.”

He closed communications with a firm click of a button, the door to the departure bay sliding open before him. With practiced motions, Xisuma climbed into the cockpit of the LifeBoat, a smaller vessel designed for quick landings and takeoffs. Used for riskier rescues.

“LifeBoat 1, departing,” Xisuma said, opening comms again.

“…Cleared, Captain,” a voice responded. “Be careful. Come back alive.”

“Haven’t had an issue yet, my friend,” Xisuma responded, flicking a few switches and adjusting the controls. “I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“I’ll hold you to it, sir.”

With a few loud clicking noises and a fair bit of shaking, the LifeBoat separated from the main ship. Coordinates displayed on the navigation system, Xisuma took the controls.

———————————————————

The landing would not win any awards for smoothness, but he had at least managed not to die on impact. It would likely take off again, according to diagnostics, though exiting through the storm would prove to be a challenge. A challenge for future him, though.

The evacuation center rose tall above him as he trudged through the sand and wind, all the escape rockets missing from their ports. Something in his stomach twisted slightly. It looked more haunted than anything had the right to be.

The door creaked horribly on its hinges as he pulled on it, grains of sand grinding in the mechanism and jamming it up. He opened it just enough to slip in, and the sudden absence of wind and sound made his fast heartbeat all the more apparent. He wiped at his helmet visor with gloved hands, brushing off the sand and dust blocking his vision as he walked further into the building. It was a huge space, empty and echoing. Every footstep bounced back at him louder.

Across the large room, something shuffled quietly. Xisuma froze, head swiveling. He heard it again.

“Hello?” he called tentatively, making his way closer.

A shadow in the corner — moved. Tucked into itself. The howling of the wind battered against the walls. On a nearby desk, a light was blinking. The distress signal.

“I’m here to help,” Xisuma continued, making his way closer. “I got your signal.”

The light of his helmet fell upon the figure, and Xisuma stopped short.

It was a child.

Not particularly young, but not yet reaching adulthood. His scales were still a lighter color, indicating that they were still soft, and his tail was curled in front of him protectively, shoulders hunched and knees bent. He was staring up at him with wide green eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly. Xisuma felt his heart squeeze painfully.

“It’s alright,” he said, palms raised in a calming gesture. “I’m going to get you out of here. Are you hurt?”

The kid didn’t respond, still staring at him with those same terrified eyes, lost to his own panic. He was shaking. So was the ground.

Xisuma knelt down, swallowing hard when the kid pressed himself harder into the corner, curling even further over his stomach. There was a scan on the screen inside his helmet, telling him that the air was barely breathable. The kid was scared. Xisuma took the helmet off.

“You sent a distress signal,” he said, urgent and gentle. The child blinked, and Xisuma let his voice soften even further. “I’m here to help.”

There was the slightest bit of hope in those wide eyes, and Xisuma wanted to see it grow, possibly more than anything in the universe.

“Let me help,” he said, begged, and then he waited.

The kid’s breathing stuttered, and slowly he uncurled from his hunched position, revealing what he’d been trying to hide. In his lap was a small creature, with large ears and narrowed eyes and three pairs of legs.

“Can she come?” The kid asked, in a voice young and wavering.

He was hugging her to his chest like she was the last thing he had in the world. She probably was.

“Of course,” Xisuma said, steadfastly ignoring the slight lump in his throat. Not very professional of him, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care. “Let’s all get out of here, yeah?”

The planet was breaking apart around them, crumbling and cracking and raging.

Xisuma put his hand out, and in the bravest act that he had ever witnessed, the kid took it.

[ahalliance]

WIP Game

Rules: In a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet and tell us about it!

(tagged by @echotunes :])

oh lord . here are both old (1 year+) and decently recent ones :

cataracts

c(l)ockduo

desert duo (the fic)

gomens

gomens 2

jmart

last life impulse

marty mcfly trans

purgatory 2

qantoine blorbo guy return

qetoiles blurb

qfrench backstory

silver and vex blue

to love is to be changed

i had an era of titling stuff ‘blegh’ or with single letters but i have left that era ! so joy semi comprehensive titles be upon you . technically this isn’t all of my wips either but the rest are probably abandoned/don’t rly inspire much from me anymore

so yeah feel free to send me an ask if you’re curious about a certain title and wanna know more !

taglist: @misotofu @bewaretheidesofmarchyall @bananasofthorns @lunarblazes @creetchure

no pressure to participate + mutuals who write and who i haven’t tagged for whatever reason, pls feel free to join in as well !!

[hungharrington]

a little less conversation, a little more action, please

[rings bell frantically] CALLING ALL PPL WHO HAD BAD SEX EXPERIENCES!!! if that’s you, this is for u :D ! this has been in the drafts 4 months and i’m excited to set it free! enjoy! 8k words, fem!reader, oral (f receiving) MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+

You think you might be the only person your age in the whole of Hawkins who doesn’t seem to get the hype.

Couples have been caught all over in the act. At the drive-in cinema, in the back of the cinema, hell, even beneath the bleachers at school — tongues down each other's throats and pants around their ankles, so caught up in each other that they don’t care about consequences. That it’s that good, that it’s worth the risk. 

Sex. 

You just don’t get it.

Once upon a time, one boyfriend ago, before you’d ever experienced it, there had been an inkling of eagerness within you. Curiosity twined in with piqued interest, you wondered eagerly about when you’d find someone who’d show you all about why sex got its reputation. 

And then you had it— with Samuel Cosgrove in his twin bed when his parents were out of town, 3 weeks into dating him. Your expectations crumbled. 

You decided quickly that everyone must be lying if that was what you were supposed to be looking forward to. It wasn’t… sexy. You didn’t feel sexy having it either.

It only left you feeling somewhat awkward and a bit foolish, with Samuel trying to ruck your shirt up even though you had asked to keep it on. Embarrassment crept in easily at how you seemed to be half a step behind him the whole time, not quite warmed up, not quite sure if this was the mood, not quite ready to take all your clothes off. 

The springs on his bed were loud and squeaked with every shift of weight. The whole thing sort of hurt more than anything.

You chalked it up to the first time, dredging together your hopes even as they rapidly deflated inside you, cemented by Samuel’s sloppy kiss that missed your mouth and landed wetly on the corner of your lips when he finished. 

His sweat stuck to your skin and you didn’t feel sexy, or good, or relieved or anything else the dozen Cosmo magazines under your bed promised you would. 

Next time, you said to yourself. You had even confided in your close friend, admitting to the underwhelming experience, and asked quite plainly when it ‘got good’. 

“The first time always sucks!” She’d assured you, her voice a hushed whisper over the diner table.“Trust me, the first, like, three times totally suck.” 

You didn’t mean to but, subconsciously, three became the number to reach— get through the first three terrible times, and… all would be peachy in paradise. 

And so when the next time was… underwhelming, you weren’t exactly surprised. Worse, was how it wasn’t anything Samuel did but what he said that stuck with you long after he’d drifted off on your sheets. Lying in the cradle of your hips, Samuel had traced his hand up your legs and then frowned, yanking his hand back. You had startled, propping up quickly to ask him what it was. 

“You’re spiky,” he said, chuckling in a mean way. You could feel your chest ache pathetically at his words and you instinctively tried to curl your legs in, wanting to hide them away. So what if they were? It was the middle of winter and he’d surprised you, showing up at your window to sneak in. 

When the fourth time happened and disappointment weighed heavy on you again, you deduced the truth. Sex was some big scam- some stupid joke that everyone was in on and just pretending to enjoy. 

It was easier to blame sex if only so you didn’t blame yourself. But… it niggles in the back of your brain, a line-up of indisputable facts that all point to the same thing. That, maybe sex isn’t the problem — but you are. 

And, look, it’s not really a problem when you’re not dating or seeing anyone.

… Enter Steve Harrington.

Admittedly, Steve was not someone you thought you would ever date. Or maybe it was the other way around, that you thought that Steve would ever date you.

His reputation as a bit of a player was as far from something you were interested in, especially considering your feelings towards sex, but… he had sort of proven you wrong every chance possible.

One month of dates and it’s been no more than holding hands and kisses on cheeks. You’ve kissed him properly, of course, once or twice, but lest you give him the wrong idea, they hadn’t been much more than a quick kiss. Steve still seemed to glow afterward, no matter what. 

It made you feel good. Safe. Warmed you to know he was happy with whatever affection you felt ready to bestow, and never pushed for more. 

You could tell he wanted it. It was hidden in the flex of his fingers and even the not-so-subtle adjusting of his pants when he’d invited you over for a dip in his pool. You’d shown up in your bathing suit— and it was the most amount of skin Steve had ever seen from you and it did not go underappreciated. He had been touchy, hands skirting up your sides, but still respectful. 

And strangely enough, you find yourself… wanting it too. 

Wanting for his touch, thinking about letting your own hands wander across his skin to find what makes him sigh, makes him groan in pleasure, what might make him whine. It surprises you, the ferocity of your eagerness, how it presses your thighs together tightly and licks pure arousal up your spine — even when Steve’s not even trying. 

(He was, you just didn’t know it. Steve knows exactly when girls seem to be looking at his arms and he’s unashamed to say he will flex his muscles and pretend he hasn’t. Robin has caught him doing this several times.) 

And today has been nothing short of wonderful. 

A balmy Saturday which you found yourself swept up in Steve’s company over at his house, laziness fuelled by the golden sun rays of the day. 

You weren’t even doing anything in particular, just enjoying being near each other. You had stretched out on a pool lounger with a book in your hand for the most part and it was with giddy delight that Steve seemed more than chuffed to just lay beside you, sizzling in the sun and then occasionally cooling off in the pool. 

Which is a spectacle all in itself. 

The sight of his chest gives you one or two steamy ideas, especially as it drips with water when he pushes up on the edge of the pool. His biceps bulge deliciously as you peer over the edge of your book, not as subtlety as you might think. You honestly don’t even mind if he catches you staring, not when this is your view. 

Your eyes trace the sparkling drops of water as they roll down his chest tantalizingly slow, through the chest hair between his pecs, down, down, trailing down his happy trail— fuck, okay, he totally caught you staring. 

Your eyes dart back up to his face to find Steve’s already looking at you, his eyes holding a playful mirth to them. His smile looks just a little bit cheeky. Bastard. 

Water splatters on the tiles where he walks as he pads over to collect his towel bunched on the end of the lounger beside your own.

“Good book?” He asks sweetly.

He says it as he scrubs the towel over his face, drying it off and then starting on his hair— he gives it a quick rub over rapidly so that when he pulls the towel away, his hair is sticking up in every direction. He holds the towel to his chest and gives his head a quick shake, like a dog, shaking out the extra water.

When he looks up at you again, beginning to towel dry his bare chest, you realise you haven’t even attempted to answer his question. 

“Book.” You echo. Steve chuckles a little bit and it kickstarts your embarrassment, finally remembering to say something else. You hold the book up to gesture with it, “Yes! It’s good, it’s…” 

Steve’s resumed drying himself and you find your words leaving you as the towel drags down his tummy, leading your eyes with it. Your mouth feels suspiciously dry. Want. You want him.

“It’s…?” 

He’s teasing you again. You startle, wondering if he’s purposefully trying to put on a sensual towel-drying show for you. You’re surprised to find you’re actually glad that he is. 

It feels like another subtle way to affirm all his affections for you without all of the touchiness you’ve yet to reach with him — come and get me, it’s like he’s saying, if you want. 

You snap your book shut. “It’s too hot to be reading, I think.” 

Steve frowns in his worry and steps forward, closer to you. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead lightly. “You feelin’ too warm? Y’gotta careful being out here too long if you aren’t gonna swim.” 

He sounds on the concerned side but there’s a touch of cheek in his voice too, like he knows why you haven’t turned the page for the last 5 minutes. It stokes the firey feeling that’s beginning to burn in your gut. A smile curls at your lips and you huff a little laugh, leaning back and batting his hand away from your forehead. 

“Yes, mom.” You jest, hand falling back onto the lounger. You lean back onto it to get a better view of him. “I’m not too hot.” 

Steve grins. “Oh, I would say the opposite. You are, in fact,” He leans in closer, one hand coming up to push some hair behind your ear. His hand lingers, fingertips on the edge of your jaw. “Very hot.” 

You couldn’t stop your reaction if you tried— which you do try, some sputtering cough with a duck of your head as you feel your body flush hotly at his words. His forwardness is something you’re still getting used to.

Just as you’re about to stumble through a poorly constructed sentence, Steve saves you— reaching over to grab his rumpled t-shirt and pulling it over his head. A small, disappointed, part of you wilts. You catch yourself from being so obvious, scooping up your bookmark and stuffing it in a random page. 

Steve offers his hand out for you to take. “C’mon, we both need some water I think.” 

You ponder if there’s a second meaning to his words as you trail along beside him, letting him lead you back through the sliding glass doors that open to the kitchen with your intertwined hands. Steve gives your hand a quick squeeze before he drops it to open the fridge, peering inside. You lean back against the counter, arms folding loosely over your front and allow yourself to look at him. 

Your boyfriend. It sounds even a bit strange in your head and you know if you tried to say it aloud, it would get caught on the way out, tripping over your teeth. Calling him your boyfriend cements all those expectations you worry so much about… even though, not-so-secretly, you revel in the fact thats he’s your boyfriend. 

“Thinking hard over there, I can see,” Steve comments teasingly and you blink, realising he’s already looking at you. He must have asked you a question and you missed it. 

“What?” 

Steve laughs a bit, pink lips pulled into a slight smirk. He shakes the bottle in his hands a little bit, bringing your attention to it. “Did you want to try some of this? I think it’s sparkling and…” 

He trails off, pulling the bottle closer to his face to scan over the front of it. You can’t help but think the furrow in his brows as he reads is adorable. He hums, obviously not finding what he’s after, and flips the bottle over. 

“…raspberry flavour?” He finishes, looking up at you, brows raised. He gives a little shrug. “That sound nice?” 

You think about it for a moment and then shake your head. Steve laughs in agreement and places ii back in the fridge, some mumble about his mom leaving it here the last time she visited home. He turns back to the fridge still rummaging. “Okay, anything in particular you want?” 

You are thirsty but… your stomach swoops as you realise it’s for something else altogether. If you want it though, you’ll have to ask. 

“Maybe, a kiss?” 

Steve freezes for an instant, then he whips around like he’s not entirely sure he’s heard correctly. The fridge door clatters loudly and he quickly grabs it, stopping the rattling bottles and looking mighty flushed when he shoots you a grin. 

“A kiss?” He checks. He lets go of the fridge doors to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, too aware of his own unsubtle eagerness. “I heard that right, didn’t I?” 

A nervous chuckle scrapes out your throat but you nod. You uncross your arms but can’t settle them, crossing them again nervously as Steve comes closer. His brown eyes scan your face intently, searching to make sure he’s getting every signal right. 

When you smile assuredly, Steve sighs in relief and his shoulders drop an inch. He smiles too, his hand reaching up to hold your faces cupping your cheek. His strokes across your cheekbone as he talks. “Oh, thank god. I was beginning to think, maybe, you just weren’t into kissing me.” 

Then he leans in— and you hold your breath without meaning to. 

The thing is, Steve is a good kisser. A very very good kisser and even your strange gaspy noise as you try to remember to breathe is not enough to ruin the kiss. His plush lips capture yours and have you feeling as hot as the day, a heat blooming in your chest and spreading like wildfire. Your fingers flex at your sides. 

You push up on your toes without even thinking, to steal more of his touch, and when Steve breaks the kiss, you’re embarrassed to find yourself chasing his lips. You clear your throat and avert your eyes, sinking back down— embarrassed at showing how much you’d melted under a single kiss. 

You just don’t realise how it looks to Steve. 

“You do… right?” 

Your head pops up, eyes widening as you try to comprehend his question. 

“Like… kissing you?” You ask meekly, more embarrassed that he’s asking for confirmation. Embarrassed that you’d somehow been overly eager and also convinced him of the opposite in one kiss. God, maybe there is something wrong with you. 

“Yeah.” Steve nods, pulling back a little further from you— like he needs physical space in case you say something absurd like ‘no.’ 

Your hands react faster than your mind, reaching to grab his shoulders to stop him from putting space between you. 

“Yes!” You say loudly. You try to rein in your embarrassment for his sake, swallowing your nerves which feel thick and swollen in your throat. “Yes, I like kissing you. It’s just, I’m… I’m worried.” 

How do you say this? How can you explain that you’ve been so afraid of your kisses going a few steps further because then- then when things get heated and Steve’s expecting things, you have to explain that — that what? 

That you’re not really sure if you even like sex, or maybe that it just doesn’t seem to work for you or — or that there’s probably just something wrong with you that means you can’t figure out how the hell to relax and enjoy sex- and that it’s not his fault but probably totally yours but— 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Steve cuts into your spiralling thoughts, having seen the dilemma spilled across your face. “Stop thinking what you’re thinking and just, like, take a breather.” 

He places his hand on his chest and mimes a deep inhale. You copy him without thinking, chest rising and falling in sync with his, unable to look at him for a moment. When you find the courage to dredge your eyes up to his face, his eyes are soft and his brows have knitted together in concern. 

“Good.” He praises, hand falling off his chest to rub gently at your arm. “Okay, now instead of doing all that worrying up there just… tell me what’s worrying you. Please?” 

Part of you want to huff and hide, to make him really pry so you know that he means it. It’s dramatic, you know — especially because he’s being so good at communicating. He’s asked outright. You try to put the words in the correct order. 

“Just… we haven’t— I haven’t kissed you a lot because I’m worried about what it might lead to.” You say quietly, eyes back to avoiding his gaze. You stare at his chest, the tuft of chest hair peeking out, and do your best to swallow the knot in your throat. 

“And I— I don’t want to disappoint you,” you admit, frustrated at how a familiar sting burns at the back of your eyes. “But I- just, in the times I’ve gone that far and— and slept with someone, I didn’t… I just didn’t like it. I didn’t enjoy it.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut tight, proclamation out in the open, and try to take a deep breath— just like Steve had instructed mere moments ago. Courage gathered, you open your eyes and peer up at him again. 

“Oh,” Steve breathes. You can nearly see the cogs turning in his head, his eyebrows twitching as he takes in what you’ve said and what it means for the two of you. “Oh, well that’s okay. I mean, if you didn’t want to I would never—“ 

“—That’s not the thing.” You interrupt. “I want to. I do. I just…” Your voice trails off, taking on a  trembling whisper as you say the thing you’ve yet to say aloud yet, for fear of speaking it into existence. You can’t quite look at him, eyes focused on the kitchen tiles instead. 

“I think it’s me. I think— I’m worried there’s something wrong with me.” 

Your words hang in the air for a moment and Steve feels his worry shift into something deeper, something closer to devastation, as he realises how deeply you believe what you’ve said. 

You genuinely think there is— even thinking it makes him want to scoff aloud. He forces himself to focus on consoling you here and now, instead of riling himself up with thoughts of whatever— whoever lead you to your immense self-doubt. 

“Well, there’s not,” Steve says plainly. Like there’s no room for discussion— his hand drifting down your arm to gather your hands in his own. They get swallowed, his hands huge when compared to your own. 

“There’s nothing wrong— you- you could never disappoint me in that way.” 

Your eyes lift from the ground to his face, desperate to see if you can see the truth in his words. He can tell- fuck, he can already read you so well. 

“Honest,” He insists, giving your hands a quick squeeze. “I promise you, okay? I- if I was disappointed over something like that it would be- that would be such a dick move.” 

“Well, you wouldn’t be the first.” You mutter bitterly. 

The words slip out without entirely meaning to; you aren’t trying to start a pity party but how are you supposed to explain why you think the way you do? How can you explain why you’re so worried about taking it further? Deep down, you know he deserves to know. 

Steve’s eyes widen for a moment, your words sinking in and cutting as they go. He doesn’t want to think about you sleeping with other people, for all the jealous reasons, but mainly because everything he’s learned today is that nobody has taken proper care of you. 

It twists his heart thinking of some fucking idiot not taking his time with you, not getting you comfortable— so that you get to this point, embarrassed, avoiding his eyes, and so entirely convinced that you’re the problem. 

“Look,” Steve says softly. His hands squeeze yours again and he tries to think of how best to say this. “If we never sleep together, I don’t care.” 

That catches your attention, your head jerking up to look at him — what? That has never even been an option with dating someone. Not in your mind, at least. You find yourself reeling, fumbling for words but Steve just keeps talking. 

“If you don’t wanna, I don’t wanna,” Steve shrugs, like that’s all there is to it.

“There’s nothing wrong if it’s not really your thing.” Another squeeze to your hands. You look up at him, aware you must look a picture of bewildered — there were a thousand ways you imagined this conversation going and this was not one of them. 

A smile pulls on his lips as he chuckles a bit, eyes falling to your conjoined hands. “Hell, for all we know I’d add to your disappointing experiences.” 

You laugh quietly but it’s saturated in fondness. He’s taking jabs at himself to make you feel better. 

“Hardly likely, considering the rumours I’ve heard about you,” You murmur lowly. You find it in yourself to squeeze his hands back, peering back up at him. Steve’s brows rise and he grins. 

“Oh? And just what rumours are we talking about?” He teases. 

“Shut up,” You say, no heat behind it in the slightest. Your chest is starting to feel lighter and lighter as the reality of his words sink in. “You know what they say about you.” 

Steve grins wider. “That I slept with Mrs. Click just to pass her class?” 

“What?” You wrinkle your nose at the horrid picture of your old English teacher with your boyfriend. “No! Did people really say that about you?” 

Steve’s grin fades, edging towards jaded. He gives a soft sigh, tilting his head back an inch. “People say everything and it all means nothing unless it’s coming from the right person.” 

He wriggles a hand free from your unaware tightening holding to brush his knuckles against your cheek tenderly. A piece of hair flops over his forehead, curling back upwards, and the buzz of cicadas fills the empty noise around you.

“So, I don’t know if some asshole told you or you just think that you’re wrong, but…” Steve inhales, his eyes darting between yours. 

The brown in them is intense, holding you fixed beneath his heavy gaze. “If— just you said you want to so, we can try and- and we can go slow and I’ll stop the moment you want to, okay? For whatever reason.” 

You feel a strange bubble of hope churn in your gut. It feels too good to be true. 

“…You’re sure?” 

“M’sure,” Steve nods. “Even for something as small as you don’t like the way my dick looks or—“ 

A laugh startles out of you and you shake your head. “I meant more about stopping but good to know anyways.” You pause a moment. “…Should I be worried?” 

You’re teasing. Steve delights in it, his own voice slipping that little bit lower— his knuckles on your cheek swiping across, down your jaw, til he lingers near your neck. 

“Why don’t you find out?” 

The hunger in your tummy returns with a new heat, rivalling the day. You suddenly feel nervous again, a roll of nerves turning over, but this time it feels far closer to anticipation. The kiss you’ve been yearning to give him, hot and messy, burns up inside you and when you rise on your toes, Steve meets you in the middle. 

Your lower back presses against the counter as Steve leans into you, his mouth slotted against yours. One kiss snowballs into another, and another, the fervency growing as you let yourself give into your desire. Your hands on his shoulders shift, trailing down to feel up the chest you’ve been gawking at all day.

Steve lets out a quiet grunt as your nails dig in and his other hand finds your waist, tugging you to press against his body — his other hand slides into your hair, clutching the strands loosely. You sigh into his mouth, nerves still alight beneath your skin but the way they buzz makes you feel good. Steve makes you feel good. 

Right as his hand scrapes along your lower back, heading lower, you’re both startled by the loud beep! that sounds in the kitchen. At the same time you peer around him, Steve turns and gives a sheepish chuckle, seeing the fridge door still ajar from when he’d been fishing around inside. 

He steps away from you, pushing the doors closed gently. Turning back, your chest swells with pride seeing the effect you’re already having on him; red lips, shiny with spit and a faint ruby colour in the apples of his cheeks. Steve smiles, boyish and charming. 

“Do you wanna keep—“ 

“—yes.”

You’re not going to squander this chance, not going to waste the days' chemistry when there’s still that tiny worry niggling in the back of your brain that today is all a fluke. That Steve’s words might just be an offer, something else that wouldn’t be a first for you. 

Steve grins. He holds out his hand and you intertwine yours with him, letting him lead you. Your stomach swoops as he takes you out the kitchen and heads for the stairs, checking back on you with a quick glimpse. You do your best to show him your excitement instead of your nerves. You’re not sure you succeed. 

Squeezing his hand does the trick for a final reassurance. Steve resumes leading you up the stairs, taking a familiar turn towards his bedroom, beginning to talk softly as he does. 

“Remember, anytime, anything you don’t like, just say the word.” 

You both pause, standing in his room and you swallow the doubts that try to claw back up your throat. Giving a sly glance at him, you smile coyly and wiggle your hand out from his. Trailing backwards to his bed, you pretend to think about it, til your thighs hit the edge of the bed. 

“Hmm… well,” You begin, a touch of sultriness dipping into your voice. “I don’t like… that you’re still wearing your shirt.” 

Before you, Steve huffs a silent laugh, that handsome smile gracing his lips as he ducks his head. He doesn’t disappoint though, his arms reaching up behind his head to shuck his shirt off in one fluid motion.

He chucks it aside thoughtlessly and where it lands doesn’t even matter — your eyes are fixed on his chest. His bare chest that you’ve been given permission to properly ogle at. You swear you feel your mouth salivate a bit. 

“Should've known this would go first, considering the way you were drooling outside,” Steve remarks cockily, folding his arms loosely. It makes his biceps bulge and you swallow again, this time nothing to do with nerves. 

“I wasn’t drooling,” You defend weakly, beginning to fidget with the hem of your own shirt. “I was admiring, okay? There’s a difference.” 

Steve saunters over slowly as you talk, steps slow and measured. He’s smirking by the time he’s before you, so close you can feel the heat of him. “Uh huh. Totally, sweetheart, I believe you. Need help with this?” 

His hand has reached out, fingers pinching the same hem you’re fiddling with. You nod slowly, “Yes, please.” 

Steve’s smirk fades into something sweeter and he grabs the hem with two hands, beginning to ruck it up gently, his eyes locked on yours — you raise your arms when it starts to get caught, holding your gaze to his until the fabric intersects. Your arms drop and you push away the urge to wrap them around your middle. 

Steve drops your shirt much more gently than his own but his eyes are still entirely on you. There’s a shine of awe in them now, flicking up at down the newly exposed skin. 

The intensity of his gaze makes you want to shy away but you chose bravery instead, reaching out to grab his side. Steve jumps, barely an inch, and before you even get a chance to question, he’s smiling. “Y’got cold hands, honey.” 

He draws them up to his mouth, laying soft kisses across your knuckles. Heat flushes through you and you melt beneath it, lowering yourself back on the bed. Steve follows eagerly, still kissing at your hands. He kneels between your legs and when he finally drops your hands from his, it’s to reach out and cup your jaw. 

“Keep breathing,” He murmurs quietly, eyes dancing in amusement. You hadn’t even realise you had been holding your breath. You realise it in one big exhale and this time, when you reach for him, you actually succeed in tugging him closer. You tumble backward into his sheets and Steve comes with you, his forearms planted on either side of you and his body pressed up against yours. 

“I don’t like…” You say, continuing the bit from earlier, your voice quiet and still tinged with a poorly hidden nervousness. “That you keep waiting to kiss me.” 

Steve’s brows hike up an inch but his smile hides his surprise easily, his entire face glowing a bit brighter. He looks fucking gorgeous bathed in the buttery sunlight, even though it’s just beginning to fade towards darkness behind the curtains. 

You stare unabashedly up at him, marvelling at his features that are etched in with adoration for you. You follow down the strong line of his nose, along the soft arches in his eyebrows, the faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that he has from smiling. 

You study the swell of his cupids bow perched above his pink lips and each of the moles dotted all over your favourite face— and think to yourself it’s not fucking fair that he looks like this. Like he’s been carved from marble and cast in gold. 

Thank God he’s yours. 

He doesn’t disappoint you — his lips finding yours and kissing you deeply, his chest brushing your own. Your entire body seems to sigh at the touch, tingling with anticipation — you’ve been overdue for all these kisses for far too long and it seems once you’ve gotten started, it feels impossible to stop.

You kiss needily, your hands moving off his midriff to drift up to his jawline. You cradle it gently, your lips a little less gentle- you try to remember how to do this, how to nip at his lips teasingly, how to soothe them with your tongue. 

Slowly, Steve’s body weight lowers onto you as he focuses more and more on figuring out what you seem to like. Time melts like candle wax and you feel as goopy as it too, all warm and pliable, softened by his kisses. Heat begins to simmer in your gut. You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing when Steve pulls away, his mouth cherry red and his face flushed. 

His fingers slip beneath the strap of your bra, toying with it but nothing more. He checks over your face as he asks, “Wanna take this off?” 

You nod, breathlessly. Up til now, it’s been easy to turn off your brain and let all your thoughts revolve around getting kissed absolutely stupid by Steve. 

But as his hands work deftly beneath you, unclipping the strap of your bra and beginning to tug it down, you feel the first worry creep in — this is usually when your panties follow, then his boxers, and then the expectations. Even with all your enjoyment, you know that if he tries now, you won’t be ready. 

Frustration bubbles up in your chest, mingling with your insecurity and you squirm a bit, trying to think of how to tell Steve without disappointing him. 

You’re so sick of disappointing people for something you can’t seem to help. 

Steve notices your squirming. His head shoots up to meet your gaze, a furrow back in his brow. “Hey, hey, what’s goin’ on?” 

“I…” Words die on your tongue easily, a war happening inside your throat as you debate what to say. You like him— you really like him and don’t want this to end and… he told you he wants you to tell the truth. 

“I don’t… I’m not—“ Your whisper climbs in volume alongside your frustration. “Steve, this isn’t working.” 

The wrinkle between his brow deepens and it’s not a comforting sight. Steve shifts a bit, his hand moving from the straps of your bra up to your face. He pushes back a few stray locks of hair, eyes sincere. 

“Not working?” He murmurs, “Baby, we’ve only just started.” 

You blink up at him once, twice. Your mouth opens and then closes again. 

You know that but you also know how this goes. Well, you think you know— so why do you suddenly feel so foolish? 

“Oh.” You say shyly. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and try to ignore feeling like you’ve just ruined the mood. 

Steve takes it all in his stride, nothing but a twitch in his furrows brows as he takes in your embarrassed expression. He leans down, and kisses your neck, then your collarbone. His lips trail down, down, slow and sensual. Your bra scraps down your arms, tossed aside absentmindedly.

“Sweet girl,” he whispers into your skin. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Sorry?” You echo, a bit breathier as Steve's kisses scrape down your breast. Your nipples peak to attention.

“Mhm,” he hums, his lips wrapping around your nipple and sucking— his hands paw greedily at your back which arches eagerly into his kisses. Steve drags his mouth off, beginning to mouth softly down your breast til his plush lips kiss at your sternum. 

“M’sorry that nobody has ever taken care of you before.”

You squirm beneath him at his words, a warm flush washing through your body as desire spins up inside you. Steve continues as if he hasn’t turned your whole view inside-out— his hand shifting up to thumb at your nipple as he takes your nipple back between his lips. 

“Steve…” you sigh out. 

He’s kneading your body in just the right way, the sensitivity of your chest fuelling the pool of heat growing deep in your stomach. You feel your thighs clench together, hips shifting up instinctively. You haven’t been touched like this before and fuck, it’s a lot. 

“I know, honey.” He says lowly, voice muffled against your skin. He suckles at your nipple and just nips at it, a flash of teeth, enough to make you arch further. Your eyes slip shut and you push your chest further out. 

To your disappointment, Steve pulls back instead. Your eyes open, neck craning to look at him, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths.

“Y’tell me if there’s anything you don’t like, alright?” 

Somehow, the heat in your gut flares that much hotter — knowing that there’s love behind every motion. You scramble for threads of courage and hold them tightly. Then you bend your legs until you can slide them around his waist, ankles crossing and tugging him closer. His cock, straining in his pants, presses flush against your core, and at the same time you inhale, Steve stutters out a groan. 

“I’ll tell you.” You say, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to hold back your grin. It melts away as Steve shifts against you purposefully, one of his hands dropping to hold your hip. The hard length of him grinds against your cunt, catching the angle of your clit in a way that makes you mewl beneath him. 

Steve kisses your breast again but your hands are already reaching for him— fingers cupping his jaw to tug him up. Your lips capture his and this time, when he rolls his hips into yours, the soft noise you make is swallowed in his kiss. It’s fervent, your kisses gaining speed and mess. You tighten your ankles and experiment with your grind and are rewarded with a jagged moan from Steve. 

Faintly, you consider how it makes a little more sense now. That all those desperate motions of making out, rutting against each other, hot open-mouth kisses— fuck, if it was always like this, you get it. You feel like you’re on fire. 

A breeze flutters the curtains across the room, the only indication of time outside your little bubble. It’s far too easy to get lost in the motions— building up your lust until you’re sure the cotton between your legs is soaked through. It feels silly but god, even though you knew this was one of the things making all those past times so terrible, you had just assumed that’s how it would always be. 

The stickiness feels vulgar, your cunt pulsating with heat like you’ve never felt before. It just makes it all feel better though— the warm, hard heat of Steve’s cock, fitting snug between your folds. 

A pause in the makeout to catch your breath. You’re huffing wildly and Steve takes the moment of his undistracted attention to focus on the shorts you’re wearing. He doesn’t ask verbally this time but as he hooks his fingers beneath the waistband, his eyes flash up to yours in question. 

You wiggle your hips and Steve takes his cue, the fabric scraping against your skin as it slides down, down, down. To your surprise, Steve goes with them. He gets halfway down the bed, his head aligned with your belly, hands kneading at the flesh of your boobs before he halts. 

“I wanna try something,” He says, looking up at you. He dots a quick kiss onto your skin as he does, not breaking eye contact. “And I think you’re gonna really love it.” 

He drags out the word really, his voice low enough that it rumbles, nearly a purr. 

“It involves a little bit of this.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss into your navel. He kisses nice and slow, the plushness of his lips scraping across the stretch of skin. 

You shiver a little, feeling how your thighs part instinctively and Steve smiles wickedly, seeing the motion. 

“A little—“ He travels further down, his hands sliding to hold the outside of your thighs. He grips the skin and urges it to spread wider— then takes a greedy fat lick along your inner thigh. “—of this.” 

You squirm. It’s unnerving in the best way, having someone so dedicated to making you feel good— but Steve’s face betrays no hint of insincerity. In fact, if you had to guess, you’d say he even looks excited. 

His large tan hands cover your hips, slender fingers curved atop your thighs to keep them pried open. You’re expecting the next question to be getting the final scrap of clothing off you— a mixture of nerves and excitement at the vulnerability that comes with taking them off. 

He doesn’t though. Drawing a line with the tip of his nose, he nuzzles down from the inside of your knee to your thigh, the warmth of his breath fanning across sensitive skin. He kisses your cunt, once, soft. You twitch, a sweet noise pushing past your lips. 

Steve does it again. This time, his lips part and you feel his tongue press through the soaked cotton of your panties — he kisses again, harder, moving over your clit with his tongue. This time you moan and feel your hips tip up to chase his mouth, surprising yourself. 

Fuck, when have you ever been this wet before? The cotton between your legs is sticky and it only gets messier with Steve’s every lick. The duvet crinkles beneath you as you sigh and sink into it, the low throb of pleasure curling up in your gut. 

“Steve,” you sigh his name like it’s a prayer. 

He hums against your core, his fingers gliding beneath the elastic of your panties but not pulling them down just yet. His hot mouth drops lower, his nose pressing into you at the perfect angle. Your breathy exhale is lilted with moans. 

“See?” He murmurs, so low you nearly don’t hear him. 

“S’Nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Y’just needed…“ His fingers grip your panties and begin to pull and you aid him quickly with a lift of your hips. “…someone to take a little more care with you.” 

Any fear of vulnerability is whirled far away; you need his mouth back on you, like, yesterday. Especially when Steve groans. Like the sight of your glistening cunt is enough to make his cock ache. Your tummy heats further at the thought. 

His hands re-situate, soothing up to your tummy before sliding back down to grasp the tops of your thighs again. He pulls them open wider. 

Pure fire streaks through your nerves, a sweltering pleasurable burn twisting in your gut as Steve’s tongue licks through your folds in one bold stroke. Your hips try to twitch forward but his hands are already there, holding them down. 

There’s one more pause, one soft curse of adoration, as his nose nuzzles along the soft skin of your inner thigh. You feel unbearably warm in his sheets, heat pulsating and dancing beneath your skin. 

“Steve,” you whisper his name again, urging him gently. “Please.” 

“I got you,” He murmurs in response.  “You don’t gotta say please with me,” He hums lowly, then kisses right on your clit, languid and warm, his tongue swirling around it deftly. You cry out softly. 

He drags his mouth off you and if you looked down, you’d see the soft sheen of your slick on his rosy lips. “I wanna give you everything you want.” 

You gasp as he finally puts his mouth on you properly, pleasure dribbling through your core as he suckles on your clit. He’s killer with his tongue, twisting it and flattening it against your bud in a way that has you squirming. The sheets scrunch in your frenzied grip. 

For the first time, you understand why pornos even sound like that— taking a moment to realise the whiney gaspy noise you’re hearing is coming from you. 

“Oh god,” You whine prettily. “That’s— uh— fuck, that’s really good.” 

Between your thighs, you hear and feel the moan Steve gives back. Your thighs are twitching, torn between trying to keep them apart or warm your boyfriend's ears. Your hips are moving, subtle grinds up into Steve’s face and he takes it all appreciatively. He sucks and slurps, tongue dragging down your folds to toy at your clenching hole— making you squeal. 

“Fuck,” he rasps, pulling back for a moment. His voice is doused in arousal. “You’re so wet.” 

Heat plumes low in your tummy as he dives back in, a groan echoing from his throat. The coil in your gut tightens, winding tighter and tighter. Your chest heaves as your voice melts away until everything you say is a whimpery little “yes, yes, yes,” and Steve’s name. 

His huge hands are still pressing your thighs apart but one shifts suddenly, barely noticeable in your mounting euphoria, until it’s tapping at your hand fisted in the sheets. 

You lift your head, confused, and peer down at him. 

It’s a mistake. His hand is resting on the bed in front of your own, propped up and fingers spread. It's clear he wants to hold your hand. Chest heaving and still lightly moaning, your eyes dart from his hand to his face — and that’s the mistake. 

He’s fucking beautiful. Hair mussed, rosy-cheeked, and dark-eyed, Steve can only hold eye contact for a moment before his eyelids slip shut as he moans against your cunt. Fire blooms under your skin, coil turned tighter and together. He wants to hold your hand. Your fingers just manage to tangle with Steve’s, holding tight, as you tip over the edge with a cry. 

It’s intense — jagged waves of pleasure that ride through every nerve in your body and have you nearly overwhelmed with how fucking good it feels. Incoherent babbling whines pour from your mouth. Your thighs lock up, beating Steve’s strong hold now that he’s down to just one hand, and close around his head. He moans in response, his tongue never letting up, licking and sucking at your cunt fervently. 

And he holds your hand the whole way through. 

You feel thoroughly flattened by the time your orgasm tapers off, your legs relaxing and flopping tiredly against the bed. Vaguely, you’re aware you should apologise for likely cutting off his oxygen flow for a good couple of seconds there but you’re too out of breath yourself to do so. 

Your chest rises and falls and a sweet contentment settles into your skin. You feel happy, loved. Without meaning to, an awed laugh titters out of you. 

Then another, and another. You can’t seem to stop laughing, a gleeful silly joy as you release his hand to bury your face in your own. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. Then, slightly louder. “Holy shit, Steve.” 

You hear him laugh and the sheets crinkle — and then he’s in your field of vision, hovering over you with an adoring grin on his face. His lips are still so pink and there’s a shine on his chin. He wipes it away absentmindedly, focused on you. 

“I take it you enjoyed yourself?” He says, genuine and not at all cocky. He settles down, one arm on either side of your chest. One of his hands sweeps over your face sweetly. 

You nod, tucking your bottom lip behind your teeth to constrain your grin. 

“Uh huh,” you say, voice all gooey. “I didn’t—“ 

You pause. “I thought— and then you— and Oh my Goddd.” You cover your face with your hands again, groaning exaggeratedly as you try to roll over and melt away into his bed sheets. 

“See? I told you it wasn’t you,” Steve says, peppering little kisses where he can reach. He kisses your shoulder, along the side of your face. He coaxes you out gently, pressing your shoulder to roll you onto your back. You face him properly.

“There is nothing wrong with you.” He reminds you. You’ve never been so happy to be wrong. You nod, hair scrunching against the pillow behind you. 

“Okay,” You say, with a small smile, finally believing it. “There’s nothing wrong with me.” 

Steve’s stare is glowing with fondness and the next moment, he’s lurching forward to press his mouth to yours. You kiss back greedily and lazily all at once.

He pulls back and you hate how the thought comes to you, unbidden; the smallest wrinkle creasing between your brows. 

“But,” You begin, voice small. “That wasn’t sex though.” 

Steve’s head tilts an inch, like an adorably confused puppy. “What do you mean? That was sex.” 

“What? That was— that was like second base.”

Steve huffs a laugh, though not directed at you. His gaze shifts above your head as he chooses his words. “Uhh, sure, if we were still in high school. But even then, that’s still sex. We just had some sex.” 

Stating it so plainly, you can’t help how it makes you giggle a bit. Steve rolls his eyes, even though you can tell he’s entirely endeared. 

“We just had sex,” You repeat his words, eyes bright and grin growing. “And I really enjoyed it.” 

Steve laughs loudly and steals a quick kiss from you. Holding up his hand, he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Just had sex high-five?” He jokes. 

You slap your hand against his anyways, twisting your fingers to hold onto his hand as you let them fall to the bed. Steve beams, cuddling in closer, the tip of his nose nuzzling against your own. 

Turns out, you might be starting to get the whole big deal around sex after all. 

[resident-gay-bitch]

Single teen dad steve who’s kid comes out as trans kinda young and fuck it’s the late 80’s early 90’s - post upside down - and he’s freaking out because he just wants the best for his little kid. She- he has always been Steve’s biggest priority and he loves his kid no matter what and he’s gonna embrace the hell out of it, but he has worries about it all because he’s in small town Hawkins and people here get beat up for being rumoured to be gay, what the hell is gonna happen to his kid??

But mainly, he has no idea how to help. He doesn’t know anything about it. Robin assists where she can but she’s just as in the dark about it as Steve.

Then comes one night, Axl (they’re trying out new names each month and this month Axl is obsessed with Gunners so it’s only appropriate) is having a panic attack over his dysphoria and Steve is trying his best to help. He can’t bind, doesn’t know how to do it on his own without it hurting really bad, and Steve is trying to help but Axl won’t let anyone see any part of him without a shirt and so it’s hard. They tried to figure out how to do it on Steve’s bare chest but it’s not really the same. Eventually Axl cries himself to sleep about it with Steve sitting on the end of his bed because Axl didn’t want to even be touched after a while.

And Steve doesn’t sleep that night, he stays up half the night trying to bind his own chest correctly, then he tapes balloons and stuffed toys to the front of this big bear they have and tries to bind on that. But nothings working, and he can’t help but feel like he’s failed his kid. He debated calling Robin up to see if she’d come over and he could try binding her chest to figure it out, he knows she’ll say yes because she cares about Axl so much and also won’t care if Steve sees her bare chest as he has before, but she’s out of state for work for a whole other week. He just cries until it’s time to get up for work and school.

Axl is wearing a baggy shirt under an even baggier hoodie, even though it’s the middle of summer. Steve wants to tell him to take it off, to make sure he doesn’t faint today, but he knows that’s only gonna make things worse - everyone at school still thinks he’s a girl. He makes sure to pack ice packs in Axl’s lunch bag and extra ice in his water bottle.

He goes to work and thinks about it all day, then he gets home to find a note on the counter from Axl, saying he’s popped across the street to study with Melody for a while. They’ve been friends since they were little, and she’s the only one from school who knows so far. Steve’s glad Axl’s doing something to distract himself rather than rotting away in bed and making himself feel more sick about it.

Halfway through cooking himself dinner (and by cooking he means microwaving whatever the fuck he can find in the fridge) he gets a knock on the door. It’s Eddie. Of course it’s Eddie. They had plans to catch up for a beer down the pub tonight, since they hadn’t seen eachother in a while now. Steve had been so distracted today he completely forgot.

Steve apologises to Eddie and tells him he’s just been so stressed today and he couldn’t talk to Robin about it and everything is just so complicated, he just breaks down and cries right then and there in his doorway.

And Eddie, being the kind soul that he always has been, pulls Steve into a hug and lets him cry about it.

They sit down at the table together and crack open a couple of beers and eat the microwaved leftovers. And they chat and Steve forgets about everything for a little while. Eddie does that to him; makes Steve forget everything else in the world doesn’t exist besides Eddie.

He’s tried to snuff his stupid feelings for Eddie out for years, since 1986. It hasn’t worked. But Eddie’s been between relationships, and Steve’s had Axl to worry about so trying to have anything serious has been so hard and pointless. No one wants an instant pre-teen, and especially not Eddie who has expressed he doesn’t want kids several times. It’s pointless.

So very pointless.

But Steve wants him anyway.

Eddie asks about Axl, as he always does. He cares about Steve’s kid the way he cares about Dustin, sort of. They get along, but Eddie kinda gets awkward around him for some reason and Axl gets very flustered around Eddie. Steve found it adorable when he was little, Eddie with his long hair and tattoos, he always through it was cool. And as Axl got older, the more he’d avoid Eddie in hopes of not fanboying over Eddie’s band, or tattoos, or his guitar.

But they don’t really see eachother much these days, so now that Axl’s fourteen and too cool to ask questions when Steve brings Eddie up, who knows what they’d be like around eachother?

Eddie’s asking questions, completely oblivious as he asks how “she’s going” and if “she’s surviving her first year of highschool” and blah blah blah, and Steve knows it’s because he doesn’t know. But it messes with his head anyway, because that’s his boy their talking about, not his girl, and it’s been bothering him all day and Steve just-

He crumbles. He opens up to Eddie and tells him everything on his mind right now. How Axl is really a boy, and how they’re trying out new names, and how Steve feels like he’s failing his kid because he doesn’t know how to help him bind, or feel safe, or come out at school, or what to do to get him on testosterone or if that’s even an option and-

Eddie places his hand on Steve’s and smiles so softly, “You’re struggling to bind?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah, it’s like- his chest… he- he’s doesn’t-“

“Yeah, I- I know, Steve.” Eddie nods, “Would Axl be okay with me knowing this? Or, like, not?”

“I don’t know.” Steve so sobs, “I shouldn’t have said anything without his permission, but I just trusted you and I needed to talk to- to someone. And I’m…”

“Okay.” Eddie cleared his throat, “okay, will Axl be home tonight?”

“Yeah.” Steve sniffled and checked his watch, “It’s almost curfew.”

“Okay. Have you got any bandages? Or what have you been using?”

“Yeah, bandages… cloth.” Steve rubbed his nose.

“That’s okay, uhm, how about you go get those for me?”

Steve, confused but too mentally tired to think much of it, goes and does just that. He brings back the rolls of bandages and cloth they were using and dumps them on the table in front of Eddie. Eddie smiles and moves the cloth aside, looking at the strip of bandages.

“The wider ones are better. These are a little thin, but… does he use a sports bra most days?”

Steve nods.

“Okay, I suggest getting some wider bandages. But I can make these work.” Eddie grins.

“What?” Steve grumbles.

“Come here.” Eddie shuffles his chair over to Steve, “Arms up, not up in the air but like, out so I can get around.”

Steve follows his command yet again, and watches with confused eyes as Eddie begins to wrap the bandage around Steve’s chest, talking him through the process; where to place his hands for best compression, and insisting it can’t be too tight or it will hurt.

“It probably won’t be perfectly flat, they never are, but it will be better.” Eddie smiled, “Surgery is always an option, but they won’t let him get that until he’s like, eighteen.”

“How do you-“

“Hey, dad, sorry I’m late, I have a math test tomorrow and we-“ Axl chattered, walking through and shutting the door, “… uhm, hi Eddie.”

“Hi!” Eddie grinned and waved at Axl before looking back at Steve’s chest and fastening the bandage together with the clip at Steve’s side.

“What are you doing?”

Steve felt his heart drop, “I’m- I’m sorry, kid, I shouldn’t have told him but- I was just, I needed someone to talk to, and- It’s not and excuse-“

“No, it’s not.” Axl dumped his bag down on the kitchen counter and walked over, “You should ask before assuming.”

“I know.” Steve furrowed his brow, “I don’t usually-“

“But it’s okay because it’s just Eddie.” Axl shrugged and leant down to look at the bandges wrapped tight around Steve’s chest, “I figured you’d already told all of your friends.”

“Nope.” Eddie shook his head and smiled, “He certainly did not. Cool name, by the way- Guns and Roses?”

“Yeah.” Axl nodded.

“Sick.” Eddie grinned.

“Did you do this?” Axl pointed to the bandages.

“Wait, you’re not upset with me?” Steve asked.

“No, I know you’re not just gonna out me to some cunt who’s gonna beat me up-“

“Language.” Steve pressed.

“Besides, Eddie’s gay and a self proclaimed Freak, out of most of your friends he’s the least likely to judge.”

“Right you are, little gremlin.” Eddie smiled up at him.

“I’m still sorry.” Steve murmured.

“Don’t be.” Axl playfully punched his arm.

“Also, to answer your question,” Eddie continued, “Yes, this is how you bind. I can show you how to do it, if you like? I suggest bigger bandages but this can work for now.”

“Yes please.” Axl nodded, and Eddie immediately started to unwound the bindings on Steve’s chest.

He re-tied it, talking step by step to Axl, and then he got Axl to bind Steve’s chest himself, Eddie talking him through the process.

Then, Eddie got Axl to do it on himself, over his baggy jumpers, because it’s a little different doing it on someone else. Steve sat at the table and watched in awe as Eddie animatedly talked Axl through the process, and Axl couldn’t wipe his smile off his face.

The moment it was done he raced off to his room to do it properly. Eddie went and got them another beer.

“Thank you.” Steve smiled at him, “So much.”

“No problem, Steve-o.” Eddie grinned, “I have not done that in a while, it was kinda fun.”

“What do you mean?” Steve furrowed his brow, and Eddie shrugged and pulled up his shirt.

The first thing Steve noticed was the added ink Eddie had gotten since ‘86. The second thing he noticed was the bat bites scattered over his skin. And the third… two scars stretching along his chest.

Steve remembered being back there, crying and trying to add compression on all of Eddie’s scars. He remembered finding bandages already wrapped around Eddie’s chest, under his clothes, but he thought nothing of it, figured Eddie had cut his chest open or something. Not… this.

Eddie blushed and lowered his shirt, shrugging up at Steve.

“Oh my god.” Steve muttered, and Eddie just stared at him, “Holy shit, you’re like Axl?!”

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded, and then a couple of seconds later Axl was body slamming into the back of Eddie and wrapping himself around him.

“I didn’t think anyone was like me here.” Axl mumbled, obviously trying to not cry, “I always thought you’d be the coolest out of dad’s friends.”

Eddie snickered and gave Axl a hug back, “How’d you go, did you get it?”

“I think so.” He said, stepping back and showing off to them. It’s the first time Steve had seen him wear anything less than a baggy shirt. He was dressed in a cropped muscle tee, and he looked so confident.

Steve started to cry.

“Hey! Look at you, it looks so good, kid.” Eddie grinned, “If you want I can show you how to draw facial hair on to look realistic.”

“Fuck yeah.” Axl grinned, “I want a moustache.”

Eddie snickered and looked back at Steve, his face dropped when he saw him crying, “Hey, Stevie-“

“Thank you.” Steve sobbed and buried his head in his hands, “Holy fuck, thank you so much.”

Eddie smiled softly, “It’s no issues, of course. Anything to help a fellow freak like me, huh?” He smiled up at Axl, “I should be thanking you, it feels nice to have another person like me around again.”

“Do you know more people like us?”

Eddie nodded, “You know my friend Gareth? Yeah, he’s like us, and a two more people but they’re not in town.”

“Oh my god, really?!” Axl grinned, “This is so awesome, can I please come to one of your gigs or something?”

“I thought you were too cool for that stuff?” Steve snickered.

Axl flipped him off, “I just wanna meet him… as a guy.”

Eddie leant out and ruffled Axl’s hair, “Yeah, kid, whenever you like- though, a band practice would be more ideal for a fourteen year old.”

Axl frowned dramatically and went to get himself a drink.

“Seriously, Eddie, thank you.” Steve murmured, “I haven’t seen him that happy in… not in years. He’s just a kid, he’s meant to be that happy every day.”

Eddie nodded, “I know how he feels. I knew I was different really young too, and when I was about twelve I told my mum and she told me to never tell anyone. And then she died, when I was sixteen, and I ended up telling dad for some- I don’t even know why, he beat the shit out of me and I ran away. Like, away away, up to Indi. Wayne found me then, when my dad told him what happened, and bought me home and let me be Eddie.” He shrugged, “I remember the first time I tried binding with duct tape, Wayne found me crying in front of the mirror about it and he came in with bandages and helped me figure it out. I went on testosterone when I turned eighteen, so.”

Steve smiled, “I’m sorry you went through that, Eddie.”

“I’m sorry you’ve been going through this clueless. Wayne had no idea either, he’s got a book on how to look after trans kids now, but he didn’t back then, I can tell you that.” Eddie laughed, “Thanks for being his dad, and like, being a good one.”

“He’s my kid, I can’t just… of course, I love him.”

Eddie smiled, “You don’t know how rare that is for people like Axl and I.”

“I don’t understand why.”

“Me either.” Eddie hummed, “You’re a really good dad, Steve. A really good guy.”

“I’m just doing what I’m supposed to do.”

“Yeah, but you care. More than most people do. You care so much.” Eddie gently took Steve’s hand into his own, “I’m sure you already know but being Axl’s dad isn’t gonna be easy, especially not in fucking Hawkins, but so long as you just stick around and… care, then things are gonna be a whole lot easier for him. It means so much to him, and me, even.”

Steve smiled at him and squeezed Eddie’s hands as a thank you, “Can you stick around too?” He asked, “Help Axl in the places I cant?”

Eddie grinned, “Yeah, of course I can, Stevie.”

“Thank you.” Steve sighed, rubbing his temples, “You have no idea how grateful I am that you’re in my life.”

There was a moment of silence before Eddie whispered, “You have no idea how grateful I am that you’re in mine.”

They looked at eachother, and Steve felt his heart in his throat.

“Okay…” Axl murmured, rolling back over to the table, “You guys are clearly having a moment so I’m gonna stop eavesdropping.”

“Hey!” Steve scoffed, “You little shit.”

Axl chuckled and scruffed Steve’s hair, “Thanks dad, I love you too. You’re my best friend.”

Steve absolutely blossomed at that, he’d never been so happy to hear those words. He used to hear them all the time, when Axl was really little. But then he became a preteen and being friends with your dad suddenly stopped being cool. He’s ecstatic right now.

“Thanks Eddie.” Axl smiled at him, giving Eddie a fist bump as he passed, “Can we like… talk sometime? I just wanna-“

“Know if someone’s gone through all the crazy shit as you?” Eddie offered and Eddie nodded, “How about we get some lunch this weekend, huh? Then hang out at the music store?”

“Sounds good.” Axl grinned and continued to walk past, “I’ll let you guys get back to your moment.”

“Moment?” Steve asked, red in the face, watching Axl walk down the hallway to his room, “There’s no moment, what moment?!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Axl shouted back and walked into his room.

“Axl!” Steve shouted out.

“Axl!” Eddie shouted too, “What fucking moment do you mean?”

Axl poked his head back out the door, “You were having a nice moment about friendship and being a good dad and blah blah blah!” Axl shouted and Steve and Eddie both relaxed, “I just shouldn’t be evesdropping of course.”

“Okay.” Steve nodded and looked back to Eddie, watched the sparkle in his eyes dance as he shifted to look back at Steve. And he melted at the sight.

“Also, this would be a great time to do something about that crush you’ve had on Eddie for years, dad!”

And with that, Axl’s door was slammed shut.

Steve and Eddie were staring at eachother. Eddie was slowly turning more and more red.

“You have a crush on me?”

Steve’s lack of an answer probably was a dead giveaway, but he hoped Eddie was oblivious.

“Oh.” Eddie muttered, and clearly he’s not oblivious, “You have a crush on me- god, I sound fifteen. Wow, you are into me- Steve- you- okay.” Eddie cleared his throat and fixed his posture, “Do- wow, huh, uh… do- do you wanna- do you wanna go out with me? Okay, there, I did it.”

“You’re asking me out?” Steve asked, a little gobsmacked.

“Yeah.” Eddie bit at his nails as he looked at Steve nervously.

“Yes.” Steve swallowed, “Yeah, I- yeah… can- does tomorrow work? Seven?”

“Seven.” Eddie smiled, his shoulders relaxing, “Yeah, a date at seven.”

“Okay.” Steve smiled too, “Wait, is this just… I just need to know if this is a date or like, with the intention of something more serious.”

“Uh…” Eddie swallowed, “Considering I’ve been into you for years now, I’d prefer something a little more permanent. But-“

“You don’t care I’ve got a kid?”

“No, I-“ Eddie ducked his head, blushing, “To be honest I’ve kinda always been jealous he wasn’t our kid.”

“Holy shit.” Steve muttered, “I thought you didn’t want kids?!”

“Yeah.” Eddie shrugged, “I don’t know, you make all my wires cross, Steve. I’ve pictured a whole ass future with you.”

And Steve can’t wait to make that future come true.

And Axl grows up with a second dad who helps him through his transition too, has a little more intel. And Steve loves watching them as they chat about their shared experiences being trans, and cries when Axl comes out and shows off his excessive leg hair one afternoon, and when Eddie starts compulsively making fun of his voice cracks at age seventeen, and when Eddie’s sitting there and talking him through the procedure he’ll endure for his first surgery and- Steve’s just overwhelmed with love for them both.

And then he and Eddie adopt a little girl and Steve’s just so in awe of how Eddie is with the baby, and how Axl instantly takes to the protective big brother role. And just picture it, okay!? Just picture Steve and Eddie having a family together, okay?!

[missjomarch]

Plz write me the fluffiest Nico you can!

✨ imagine ✨ like sick cuddles or sleepy morning smooches and falling back to sleep 🥰

No because I was so sick last weekend and my own personal Nico Hischier definitely would've fixed me right up. Using my favorite ladylooch trademark Nico nickname (sweets) in honor of you requesting this.

You felt fine when you left for work this morning, but as the day progressed the pounding in your head and the aches in your body only got worse. All it took was one look from your boss and you were being sent home to rest.

The drive to the house was only 10 minutes, but you honestly weren't sure you'd make it. You were completely out of it. It hadn't even occurred to you that you should probably text Nico, your boyfriend, that you had left work early and were headed home.

You left all of your work things in the car, barely managing to drag your own self up the stairs to the front door. When you opened the door, Nico was folding laundry on the couch. The domesticity of the action would've warmed your heart had you not been actively fighting a wave of nausea. His head whipped in your direction, clearly not expecting anyone to be entering his house unannounced at this time of day.

Confusion washed over his features when his eyes found you standing in the door way, and he picked up his phone to check the time. When he confirmed that 5 o'clock hadn't magically arrived without his notice, he returned his gaze to you.

"Babe? What're you doing home so early?" He's making his way towards you as he's speaking. You take two steps forward before deciding that it might be best to just let him come to you. A look of concern is growing on his face as he nears you, but he chooses not to mention your pallid complexion. Instead he wraps you in his arms, placing soft kisses to your hairline.

"Work sent me home, don't feel good," You manage to mumble.

"What's wrong, baby?" His chest rumbles as he speaks, lulling you momentarily. You close your eyes against the spinning room, willing the nausea to stop. Bad idea. Suddenly your yanking out of Nico's hold and sprinting to the half bath down the hallway.

You barely make it to the toilet before you're emptying your stomach. Apparently Nico wasn't far behind you because you can soon feel his hands pulling your hair back.

"Let it out, baby," he soothes, hand rubbing comforting circles on your back. When you're done, Nico leaves your side for a moment only to return with a cold washcloth. You take it from him and press it to your face, the coolness alleviating some of your discomfort.

"Sorry," you mumble, not exactly sure what you're apologizing for. You just know you don't love the idea of your boyfriend watching you hurl your guts up.

Nico shakes his head, "don't apologize. If I knew you didn't feel good I would've picked you up from work."

"I just thought I had a headache."

"Do you feel better now?" Nico's hand returned to tracing shapes on your back.

"Nope." Your stomach was still churning, your head was still pounding, and you still felt like you were on the verge of puking. You felt Nico place a soft kiss to the top of your head before watching him leave the bathroom again, mumbling that he'd be back in 2 minutes. Halfway through those two minutes you were vomiting again, and Nico came rushing back to the bathroom.

"Breathe, sweets." Nico coaxed as you gasped.

"Okay, now I feel a bit better." You sighed once you were done.

"Let's go lay down, yeah?" You nodded, wanting nothing more than to pass out in Nico's hold. He helped you get cleaned up before carrying you to your shared bedroom. He had already moved a plastic trashcan beside the bed and a new washcloth and water bottle were waiting on the nightstand.

Nico was sat against the headboard with you between his legs. The position kept you mostly upright in an attempt to keep the sickness at bay. Nico's right arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand ran through your hair.

"Thank you," you whispered, "I know this is gross." You could hear Nico's scoff lightly at your comment.

"You, my love, could never be gross. I just want to make you feel better." Your heart warmed at his genuine disheartened tone, clearly upset he couldn't magically cure your illness. Though you had no doubt he'd be the first to attempt it if he had the means.

"I love you, Hisch." The sentiment is mumbled, but Nico hears it loud and clear.

"I love you more, sweets. Get some rest."

[heyitsjaysblog]

Lips and Hands That Soothe.

Words: 3926 | Rated: M | Female! Reader Insert  x Astarion (Y/N, E/C, H/C, H/T)

Synopsis: You are absolutely exhausted after the battle between Myrkul’s Chosen, Ketheric Thorm. You and your companions finally begin the trek to Baldur’s Gate. While on your way to the city, many of your fellow travelers take note of your pained state. Astarion devises a plan to grant you some relief. 

Warnings: Act 2 Spoilers! Swearing, mentions of blood, blood/bite kink, heavy petting, fingering?!

A/N: Grad school is kicking my ass!!!!! So, I apologize for not writing as much! I deadass started this like a few months ago and just finished it. I have, however, planned more to add to my fic series, along with a couple of ideas for more reader inserts! I am planning on doing a few for Halsin next, along with one intended for Gale, so I am also open to more ideas if anyone wishes to read more from me. I hope you all enjoy, it and that this isn’t terribly out of character! I was partially inspired by being super sore after the gym & work one day, and thought to myself: what would a massage from Astarion be like??? 

Gonna go repent after writing this too LMFAO.

***Also, a key just in case: 

Y/N: Your name 

E/C: eye color

H/C: hair color

H/T: hair texture

- - -

You are completely, and utterly exhausted. 

By the Gods, if you had just a moment to rest your eyes or a place to drape your weary bones, you would be the happiest woman in all of Faerûn.

And yet, you are still walking. Or in your case, stumbling. Merely moments away before taking a severe tumble toward the ground, which may just grant you the respite you are so desperately aching for. 

You and your misfit group of companions have come quite a long way from the Illithid wreckage off of the Sword Coast. It’s a mystery to you that you’ve all even managed to get this far, and you’re sure that the sentiment is shared. The whole reason you have been walking, or stumbling for this long, is due to the fact that you all recently bested the Chosen of the Lord of Bones, Myrkul. Fighting Ketheric Thorm was a feat that you truly did not think you would be able to succeed in overcoming. Your comrades were sure at one point that you were done for. However, with their support, as well as Dame Aylin’s, you were able to see another day. 

Another long and tiring day. 

You find yourself walking the rubbled path to Baldur’s Gate, now clear of the Absolute’s forces. While you all surely rested the night of the battle, your muscles still ached. Not even Shadowheart’s healing spells have managed to fully soothe the gnawing pain you suffered from being thrown around. Granted, you weren’t the only one winded and wounded, but your companions were slowly starting to realize that they may need to set up camp much sooner than they anticipated.

As you continued to trail rather behind them all, the pace of the group slowly began to halt. 

“...Why are we slowing down?” you ask, as your eyes dart towards each of your companions.

“Solider…” Karlach begins to speak.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like you’ve seen better days,” she adds, her brows arching into a concerned expression. 

“What?- No, I’m fine…I could just use a small break, is all,” you explain, dismissing her claims. However, you are far from fine. Not far from your side, Astarion quickly scans your face, fairly aware that you’ve lied through your teeth. If anything, he’s gotten to know you rather well over the past couple of weeks with the amount of time you’ve both shared. 

And he was certain that you were moments away from passing out. 

“Darling, I think she’s right.” he adds, as a look of apprehension surfaces on his face. 

“Perhaps it’s for the best that we find somewhere to set up camp…” he suggests, as some of your companions nod in agreement. 

“I wholeheartedly agree.” Gale chimes in, now utilizing his quarterstaff to keep himself upright. 

“In fact, I think we may have some Waterdhavian cheese, baguettes, and cured ham within our camp supply pack…perhaps I can quickly prepare something for us all.” he adds, with a reassuring smile. 

With a heavy sigh, you agree with them all as you allow yourself to be navigated to a nearby clearing, immediately finding a fallen tree trunk to collapse upon. 

- - -

After completing a rather savory meal prepared by Gale, you found yourself sitting on top of your bedroll, which was situated right before the campfire. Your (e/c) eyes indolently studied the dancing flames, as you rested your chin within the palms of your hands. Before you begin to doze off, your ears detect approaching footsteps before a figure takes its place beside you. A pallid hand swiftly runs through your (h/c) hair, slightly surprising you before you sit upright.

Astarion blinks before snickering a bit to himself at your reaction. 

“Apologies, my dear- did I startle you?” he asks, as you begin to rub at your eyes. 

“It’s alright…I think I was beginning to fall asleep.” you explain, taking his cold hand into yours. As you run your fingers over his pale knuckles, Astarion continues to look over your face, taking into account the deep dark circles under your eyes.

“...How are you feeling?” he asks, wondering if your state has improved even slightly from earlier. 

You raise your shoulders to shrug, before offering a response.

“A little better. Just still feeling sore…it’s like my muscles are crying out for help.” you explain, as you look into his vermillion eyes. They appeared to burn even more red than usual, which typically tends to happen when Astarion has yet to feed. In fact, you can’t recall the last time he had even done so. Normally he would hunt, in addition to drinking from you, however, you can’t think back to the last time you spared some of your blood for your vampiric lover. While you have been so fixated on your aches and pains, it seems as though Astarion had his share as well, judging from the small, purplish-green bruise nestled underneath his eye.

“...What about you? When’s the last time you’ve fed?” you inquire, causing Astarion to wave off your insinuation. 

“You don’t need to worry about that, my dear. I’m sure I can procure… something later from the woods.” he attempts to assure you. 

“Besides, I don’t think I could bring myself to drink from you in your state. If anything, you need rest.” he adds, causing you to roll your eyes. 

You were fine! 

A long and good night’s rest should nurse you back to health in no time. 

“I told you all, I’m okay!” you exclaim, attempting to raise yourself to your feet as proof, only to immediately make contact with the ground once more. You let out a groan in response, laying flat on your back from your failed attempt.

Astarion raises his hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter, as you playfully nudge him with your foot to get him to stop laughing. 

“You poor, poor thing,” he says as he helps you sit back upright, causing you to grunt from the movement. 

In doing so, Astarion’s eyes light up as an idea comes to him. 

“In fact, I think I have something in mind that can potentially grant you some…relief,” he says.

As your mind cycles through a myriad of different things he could be alluding to, your brow quirks up in curiosity.

“And that is…?” you respond with a confused expression.

“A massage, of course. I’m known to give rather good ones…or so I’ve been told,” he says with a playful smirk.

“Perhaps I can come to your tent in a bit, and help rid you of some of the tension you have built up.” Astarion suggests, prompting warmth to begin to generate within your cheeks. 

“Hm…I can’t say I’m in the state to turn down a massage…” you drum your fingers across your chin, playfully considering the offer, despite already having your mind made up. 

“Come to my tent in 10 minutes.” you eventually state, causing Astarion’s toothy smile to surface. He swiftly stands, before dramatically offering out his hand to help you up. You roll your eyes in response as a small smile surfaces on your face. Taking his hands, he pulls you up from your seat, causing another groan to escape your lips. 

“Go get comfortable, my sweet. I’ll come find you shortly.” he assures you as you part ways, seeming rather excited as he walks back to his tent. 

You giggle a bit to yourself as you watch him stride off before walking towards your tent in the opposite direction, picking up a lone lantern as you continue to make your way there. As you reach your quarters, you open up the flap before immediately lowering yourself down to the ground inside, bringing the enclosed lantern in with you. Upon setting the lantern down on a nearby leather chest, you release a deep sigh before beginning to remove your armor. Your arms are unreasonably heavy, making this an even more difficult task. As you undo each layer, you become more and more aware of some of the bruises you suffered from the day before, attempting to carefully maneuver the rest of your clothing without accidentally disrupting one. Once you get fully unclothed, you sigh to yourself as you lift one of the cushions in your tent to retrieve a loose-fitting linen camisole with its matching pair of shorts. You once again lift your arms to pull your nightwear over your limbs and onto your body. Once you accomplish this task, you sprawl your body out onto the scattered cushions on the ground of your tent, finally bringing your eyelids to a close. 

It isn’t too long before you detect the sound of what appears to be someone beginning to undo the flap of your tent. As your body shoots upright, you recognize the pale, slender fingers undoing the ties of your tent’s entrance. The flap falls, revealing Astarion, with a wooden crate that appears to contain a myriad of different glass bottles. 

“May I come in?” he inquires, with his distinctive smirk. 

“You may,” you respond, with a quirked brow as you watch him lower his head before stepping into the tent. He then proceeds to set down the crate and remove his leather boots, before sealing the flap once more.

“I thought with the tadpole you no longer needed to be invited in?” you teased, as you watched him situate himself on the cushions alongside you, prompting him to snicker a bit at your joke. Your eyes once again scan the crate that he brought inside. It appeared to be filled with glass bottles that seemed to store different creams, emulsions, and expensive-looking oils. 

“What in the hells…is all of that?” you whisper to yourself as your eyes flit between each bottle, a smile growing on your face as you stare in disbelief. 

Astarion blinks as he studies your face, wondering why his collection of products seems to be startling you. 

“Well…you seemed interested in receiving a massage, and I found it only fair to give you a proper one,” he says with a grin. 

“I see…” you respond, as you watch him crack his fingers, causing you to giggle a bit at how seriously he’s taking this process. 

Astarion’s gaze meets yours before his brows pinch together in frustration. 

“Well…?” he inquires, before continuing his thought. 

“Don’t just sit there ogling me. Come here, and get comfortable!” he says, patting the cushion before him as he urges you to find a place in front of where he kneeled.

You roll your eyes with a small smile before crawling over to him and turning so that your back faces him. You sigh a bit as you let your shoulders fall, attempting to obey his command and “relax”. Attempting to further ease your comfort, you fold your legs as you situate yourself within the cushion.

Your gaze faces forward, yet you are tempted to turn around and watch what Astarion is concocting once you hear the movement of glass shifting behind you. Letting the biting curiosity take hold of you, you start to turn your body backward before Astarion realizes that you’re watching his every move. He tuts, before taking his cold hands and gently turning your head forward once more, causing you to laugh. 

“No. Peeking.” he states firmly, before continuing with what he was doing originally. 

“Just…close your eyes, or something-” he suggests as he unscrews a glass bottle of oil before letting the liquid fill his palms. As you hear him rub his hands together, you jump a bit as you feel cold, slender fingers make contact with your skin. Ever-so-slightly, Astarion takes his pointer fingers to move your (h/t) hair out of the way, before beginning to gently massage your neck. You sigh a bit, focusing on the flickering flame in your lantern, as you close your eyes. You then shift your posture to move further back into him. His hands glide across your skin before deeply digging into your shoulder blades, causing you to hum in contentment. 

That…actually feels good, you thought to yourself. While you’ve come accustomed to how skilled Astarion is with his hands, you could have never imagined one of his massages feeling like this.

As he continues to work, he directs most of his motion into the center of your neck, right in between your shoulder blades. You stir a bit, as he hits a part of your body that houses a very distinct knot. 

Lowering his mouth to your ear, his soft lips brush against it before he speaks in a low whisper. 

“Do you feel tension here?” he inquires, causing an electric ripple to run through your core at the sound of his voice. 

“M-mhm…” you swallow, somewhat startled by the sensation of his words practically reverberating through you. 

As he pulls away, he slowly begins to work at the knot, carefully making sure to make firm, yet articulate motions to help alleviate the pressure. You let out a breathy sigh, further relaxing into his touch. You take notice of the oil that he applied to his hands, which seemed to be growing warmer and warmer as he used it to massage you. An odd feeling, as both his naturally cold touch, and the warming effect of the oil work together to coax the tenseness of your muscles. The aroma of the oil fills the tent, giving off the scent of spiced citrus. There were notes of sweet almond, cinnamon, and clove, but more specifically, something that you’ve come to grow very familiar with. A scent that smelled so comforting, and distinct. Your nostrils twitch as you attempt to determine the scent.

 It could only be that of…

“This oil you're using…is that bergamot?” you ask, causing Astarion to halt his work. 

If you knew that would be the case, you wouldn’t have spoken at all.

Astarion chuckles a bit to himself, somewhat shocked at the fact that you were able to recognize it so easily. 

“You are correct, my sweet,” he affirms your suspicion, before resuming the massage, beginning to move further down your back. 

“A rather impressive guess.” he commends you, causing you to smile to yourself. 

“It wasn’t so difficult to assume…the smell reminds me of you,” you say with a soft smile, as a rosy tint settles into your cheeks. Once again, however, you jump a bit as you suddenly feel Astarion’s lips brush past your ear. 

“May I go lower?” he asks, as he gently tugs at the straps of your linen camisole. Your eyes flutter open slightly, as they meet his finger lifting the string of fabric. You offer an eager, yet shy nod, prompting Astarion to smirk in response. 

“Excellent.” he says in a low voice, pushing the strings of the camisole down past your shoulders, which causes the fabric to fall down your frame and gather at your waist. The cool air causes your nipples to erect, and once again, Astarion’s hands make contact with your body. As your eyes flutter closed, Astarion’s hands glide further down your back, while he cautiously moves around the bruised patches of skin that he comes across. His fingers lightly trace down your spine, before his hands settle on delicate, unbruised skin. He then carefully kneads into your back, causing your posture to shift. As he continues to carry on, a moan builds in within you, forcing itself out of your lips. 

Somewhat embarrassed, you raise a hand to your mouth, which causes Astarion to chuckle a bit at your reaction. 

“Careful, my love…you may wake our companions.” he jokingly warns, although, he truthfully did not care if others heard.

Suddenly, his hands glide upward across your skin, before slyly making contact with your breasts. With a firm, yet gentle touch, Astarion’s pale hands begin to cup your breasts, causing the tint in your cheeks to grow darker. He begins to massage them, softly brushing the pads of his thumbs over your erect nipples. Another moan spills out of your mouth as Astarion brings his body close to yours. Your arousal builds, causing a pleasurable burn to begin to develop in between your thighs. As he continues to tenderly massage your breasts, you throw your head back into his chest, shifting in your seated position, before Astarion lowers his lips down to the exposed flesh of your neck. He then gingerly peppers your neck with soft kisses, before moving to suck at the skin, intending to leave a hickey to match the other bruised patches of skin you possess. 

Becoming rather amused with all of the squirming and moaning you seemed to be doing, Astarion couldn’t help but pull away, only to take you into his arms and gently pull you back into his lap. A light squeal erupts from your lips before you relax into his hold. You suddenly become very aware of a growing bulge in Astarion’s trousers as it rubs against your sex, causing another ripple of arousal to echo through your core. 

Astarion continues to explore your body as his hands glide down your side, moving toward your stomach until he eventually meets the waistband of your shorts. At this point, your clit is practically thumping in concordance with your heartbeat. 

Pressing his lips towards your ear, he whispers, “Shall I go lower…?”

Your breath hitches before your eyes flicker open. 

“Astarion…you don’t have to-” you start to speak.

“You’re absolutely right. I don’t have to,” he interrupts your thought, using his free hand to guide your chin, as your gaze met his.

“I want to,” he assures you, as his scarlet pupils lock onto your (e/c) eyes. 

A smirk tugs on his lips before he moves his face closer to yours to press a soft kiss onto your lips. You lift a hand to his cheek, desiring to deepen the kiss as long as you can. While doing so, your other free hand takes grasp of his hand, maneuvering it towards your shorts. Astarion smiles into your kiss, reacting to your forwardness. As he pulls his face away, his hands slowly creep into your shorts, and the pads of his fingertips finally make contact with your clit. A soft moan escapes your lips as you turn, positioning yourself so that your back once again relaxes into his chest. As he holds you, his one hand further rubs down the folds of your labia, while the other once again returns to cup and massage one of your breasts. Astarion traces one of his fingers around your entrance, sighing as his finger is coated with your slick arousal. In doing so, he rhythmically rubs two fingers against the inside of your folds, causing you to moan once again. As he continues to go back and forth, occasionally circling your clit with his fingertips, your body twitches as you begin to grind against the friction as well. The feeling was driving you mad, and if anything, you could think of only one more thing that would further send you over the edge.

As your body arches against his, you tilt your head slightly to the side, exposing your neck. With a free hand, you attempt to reach back, trying to guide his face towards your neck once more. 

“Bite me.” you say, as his eyes widen a bit by the proposal. 

His gaze quickly meets yours, looking for confirmation, only to be met with another eager nod. As you confirm your request, Astarion lowers his head towards your neck, planting a delicate kiss at the crook. He takes his other hand and cradles your head. As he teases your entrance, Astarion fangs graze against the sensitive flesh of your neck before piercing the skin, all the while dipping two of his fingers into your body. Your body arches once again, biting your lower lip as you stifle a deep moan. Blood starts to stream down your neck, past your collarbone, and drips down your chest. As your blood coats his tongue, he can’t help but moan into your neck as well, causing a flutter of arousal to echo through your core once more. Sweat beads on your forehead, as you clamp your eyes shut in pleasure. His fingers work in and out as he steadily fingerfucks you with little to no resistance. You shudder from the sensation, growing wetter and wetter from feeling filled by him, and him alone.

Astarion continues to suck at your neck, simultaneously thrusting his fingers with ease. He could practically feel your heartbeat thumping against him, and as the pace slows, he pulls his fangs out from your neck. He drags his tongue along the bitemark, attempting to quickly cleanse the wound. As he finishes drinking from you, his hands shift from cradling your head to directing attention back to your clit. With the combination of circular motions, thrusting, and rubbing against that one particular spot, you were only but moments away from cumming. 

“A-Astarion…I-I’m-” you begin to stammer, before reaching climax, and practically gasping for air as you feel a complete release come over you. 

“That’s it, my love…” he coaxes you with a low tone as you coat his fingers and hand as you orgasm. Your body practically goes limp as you recline further against him, and he can’t help but snicker at your ecstatic expression. Bringing his fingers to his blood-stained mouth, he sucks on the two that were just previously inside of you, wanting to taste your arousal. Astarion moans a bit as he shuts his eyes, taking in the flavors of you, before he licks away the remaining blood from his lips.

As you enter a state of blissful stupor from your orgasm, you slip out from his lap before falling back onto the cushions of your tent and wiping away the sweat from your forehead. A contented sigh escapes your lips. 

Astarion’s brow quirks in curiosity, as he was very interested to know what you were thinking.

“Well…how do you feel now?” he inquires as he takes a nearby rag to pick up any of the blood that may have dripped down his chin. The purplish-green bruise that once sat on top of his cheek now seemed to have faded away upon him feeding from you.

With your eyes still shut as you lay on your back, still basking in the aftereffects of your orgasm, a rather goofy-looking smile surfaces on your face. Truth be told, a massage and an orgasm were almost exactly what you needed to temporarily forget about all of the bodily pain you were experiencing from your previous battle. 

“That was…” you begin, before pressing a hand over your bare chest. 

“I feel fucking amazing.” you finish your thought with a laugh, slightly opening your eyes to meet your lover’s once again. 

Astarion chuckles a bit at your response. His eyes look you over and a pleased expression forms on his face. 

“Well, my dear, I’m glad I could be of service,” he says with a smirk before an inquisitive expression takes over. 

“Y’know, truth be told, perhaps I missed my calling as a masseur…” his voice trails off as he briefly ponders the thought. 

You giggle a bit, before turning to face him. 

“Well…now it’s your turn.” you announce, as Astarion’s eyes widen in anticipation, once again being caught off guard by your forward demeanor.

Abruptly, you take the frilled collar of his white shirt into your hands, pulling him down towards the cushions with you. 

You desperately wanted to return the favor.

[naruto--imagines]

Can you do hcs for shikamaru and kiba with a celebrity s/o(acting, singing, whatever)? Like how the act on the red carpet, at award shows, everyday life etc? Thanks so much 💕

Shikamaru

The two of you meet at the bar where you did open mic. He was in the corner with a chess board enjoying the ambient music that was provided, and your lyrics happened to get his attention.

Very few people could actually pull off writing in Iambic Pentameter, at first he thought that maybe someone else wrote your songs for you

Somehow you ended up talking with his friends (Ino probably roped you into it) and he realized that you were more intelligent than he originally gave you credit for.

The two of you meet up for coffee after that, and it was all history from there. Shikamaru was there to support you through all the stages of you becoming a celebrity, he even took it upon himself to learn about the music industry and represent you as your agent ("It'd be a drag to have some outside person do it. This way you don't have to worry about ulterior motives")

The one thing that he desperately hates about your job is red carpet events. ("They're such a drag, we should just stay home" 'I've been nominated for an award, we can't stay home,')

At the event he is quiet, he follows your lead and tries to stay out of the lime light as much as he can. He tries to fly under the radar (occasionally he has to step in when reporters get a bit to pushy)

At home he spends a lot of time in his office [going over deals, reviewing contracts, filling out charity paper work, looking into brand deals, the works. By the end of the work day he is completely over looking at paperwork and dealing with people.

It's around this time that he'll stop into your recording studio and listen to whatever project you're working on

Your melody's aways manage to sooth him, you've always worries that it was boring listening to you work shop the same bars over and over (he assures you it isn't) he usually ends up being in such a state of relaxation that he ends up dozing off [which is totally not the reason behind you buying that super comfy couch]

Kiba

Kiba and you met through your college's jazz concert class. He needed the elective, you were pursuing a career in music education.

For an extra credit assignment, you were asked to create and perform as a band. You and Kiba decided to work together (along with a few others from class).

While the class required you to perform as a jazz band, the four of you found that you worked well together and decided to make your band work more official.

During the first few years of the new band, you worked as a teacher, and Kiba worked for his family's vet office. You would play small venues every other weekend (mainly playing covers of bands you were aspiring to be). On weekends when you weren't playing, you were working on songwriting.

One of the nights you stayed late at Kiba's place, you were so close to getting your new song to sound how you wanted it, the two of you took a break for dinner and began talking, the next thing you knew he was taking you out officially.

You two have been together ever since.

Your band slowly grew in popularity, eventually getting to the point where you all left your typical jobs and were able to focus full-time on creating music and performing shows (you even managed to pull out a headliner tour)

Eventually, you found yourselves at a few award events here and there. Kiba relished these events, they always stressed you out a bit. Being the figurehead of the band usually meant you were the one participating in the interviews and speaking on behalf of your bandmates.

The day after these events were always filled with Kiba boating about you on the internet

"Look at how good my partner looks!" Always accompanied by pictures of the two of you from the event

"And my friends look alright" Accompanied by unflattering pictures of your bandmates.

As soon as you could, Kiba insisted that the two of you purchase a house. One that had enough space for you to have a studio and plenty more space for a dog (or two, or three... or five).

You did end up adopting quite a few dogs [ and then running a nonprofit foster and rehab for abused animals] despite his aggressive exterior, Kiba was the bleeding heart of your relationship.

[goshdarnitjay]

*throws more art at you and runs off*

props to you if you know and watch bluey, I guess since I'm Australian, it is required for me to like bluey other wise I'll lose my passport lol. (jokes aside its truly a great show that I put on on a rainy day)

that baby kate werewolf is giving me all kinds of feels. kinda makes me imagine yelena and kate with a baby who is also a werewolf. that'd be so adorable.

also the frisbee to the face!!! 😭😭🤣💚💜 i've never watched bluey but i know it exists and has a positive influence.

that final meme is absolutely incredible. and so, so, so fricking accurate!!!