#but actually i kind of. really love it + dig it + want to keep going

[caffeinatedopossum]

I've always really wanted to make music (almost all of the 250 notes on my phone are lyrics I've been compiling for months and there were hundreds more on my other phones that are lost forever now) but I've been so scared and idk why. I should just do it because I think I'll regret not doing it but there's so many things I'm scared of.

I feel overwhelmed when people talk about making music and it sounds so hard and like their process is so intense and requires so much knowledge and equipment and and *insert x thing they need here* and I'm over here, recording a bit of audio on my phone and trying my best with pre-made instrument loopers on a free app. Idk, it's like somehow people convinced it can't be easy or I'm doing it wrong and I honestly still don't know if they were right or not

[wordsgood]

wdnftp bg3 ficlet (jat!tav)

The transition between home and here is a blur in her memories. Most of what’s left is the blaze of magic she summoned, a shield of icy air that hardened into spikes as she and Loreleaf grabbed each other and held on for dear life. The magic sang in her blood like plucked harp strings, sharper than a dagger’s edge, growing louder and louder — but not in the way that meant it was getting stronger, the way she was familiar with. The timbre of it, the rush of it in her blood, the colors — everything sharpened and rose and began to whine. The shield held through it all until it didn’t. The moment Jat saw the sky change colors between bits of the vessel that had scooped them up, the magic screamed in her ears like glass being shattered, or like the scrape of a blade against a blade, and the shield exploded away. The sudden, wrenching silence hurt more than anything. More than anything else that has ever hurt her, the silence hurt — it should have killed her, she thinks sometimes. She’s grateful it didn’t, mostly, but living with the silence isn’t much of a runner-up prize. She still talks to it, although it doesn’t talk back. She can’t bring herself to give a shit about any of the gods here, so who else is she going to pray to? The mysterious dream visitor who looks so much like Doli Lin, whose voice matches his, with twice the real Doli Lin’s confidence and half his comfort? Nah. He’s no god, and he hasn’t earned Jat’s prayers. What else is left but the hollow where her magic used to be? A little shrine in her chest, hollow, without so much as her heart to fill it with.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

soon it'll be dawn again

transcript under the cut ⏬

page 01

Fig: no way? - you're still up?

Riz: Wh– yes?

Riz: Why'd I not be.

page 02

Fig: I me~~ean - that took.

Fig: whole day.

Riz: Yeah?

Fig: 'm beat.

Riz: you should sleep.

page 03

Fig: nah. my guy's still up

Fig: I wanna hang out.

page 04

Riz: That's really nice.

Fig: Hah! - Nobody ever expects an Archdevil rockstar to be nice.

Riz: … yeah. - 's just budget work tho. (the stuff I'm working on) - I've heard it's boring.

page 05

Fig: yeah, but you do it…

Riz: It keeps things going, right? - Nothing happens if nobody sits down and - does the thing.

Fig: That's right… - though. Yeah.

page 06

Fig: sometimes it's someone else who - doesn't want the same thing to happen.

Riz: … - mm.

page 07

Riz (off screen): …It took me a long time to get that not everyone likes doing what I do. - 's probably because you guys are so nice– - or. - kind.

Riz (off screen): to anyone too, not just. - the people you /love/.

page 08

Riz: that's not how it is elsewhere. - The world's– not. hostile. - but 's not like it's kind.

Riz: So I'm doing as much as I can now… 

page 09

Fig: Hey.

Riz: ?

Fig: Go dig some dirt with me.

page 10

Riz: [blank speech bubble] - oh you meant like - actual dirt. (not incriminating information)

Fig: o yea.

Fig: there's clay in the backyard soil. - sometimes when I'm sun deficient or something I go touch dirt for a bit.

page 11

Fig: here u go

page 12

Riz: uh

Fig: now we make a thing! - 'm pretty good at freehanding a bowl.

Fig: I'll show u

page 13

Fig: just– yep, flatten that out as evenly as u can, then–! - actually ur nails'd be so good at cutting out the strip. [larger than usual space] wait. - wait. wait u can carve patterns with them! we HAVE to try

Riz: uh - What. do I carve?

Fig: anything!!!

page 14

Fig: and– yep just seal the inside uh. seam?

Fig: yep that works - okay time's up! all contestant hands up

Riz: [blank speech bubble] - okay - wh. what's next?

Fig: haha - watch this.

(sound effect text): FWOO—MP

page 15

Riz: WH– DON'T JUST DO THAT???

Fig: Now it's fired!

Riz: THAT WAS NOT SAFE

Fig: (actually it's just dry. if u add water rn it'll dissolve)

Fig: ok catch!

Riz: [blank speech bubble] - careful!!

Fig: dw no need haha

page 16

Riz (thought bubble): oh - it's warm…

Fig: now I want you to throw this.

page 17

Fig: u gotta do it - c'mon

page 18

Riz: wh– - It's like 3AM right now

Fig: oh it's not /fired/ fired it's not gonna make a loud noise

Riz: And then just? leave a pile out here?

Fig: pour water over it & it'll be gone I told u

Riz: but

page 19

Fig (off screen): RIz.

page 20

Fig: I've done all this before.

Fig: Can you trust that at least?

page 21

Riz: no, I– - I do. - I trust you.

page 23

Riz: okay what happens now

(sound effect text): glob

page 24

Fig: we do it again!

page 25

Riz: wh. [larger than usual space] What do you mean. (this clay's too wet also)

Fig: see! you're already learning

Fig: [blank speech bubble] - there are flows that are futile to fight. - The world changes.

Fig: Things change.

page 26

Fig: I've learned my lessons with "forevers". - But - as an artist

Fig: I can give you one thing: - You can always do it again.

page 27

Fig: most of everything depends on the rest of the world, - but this. - making new. - that's yours as long as you want it.

page 28

Fig: So?

page 29

Riz: Yeah. - Yeah! - let's make another one.

[ao3commentoftheday]

my biggest obstacle as a writer is that i desperately want to be a popular and well-known fic author, but my main fic inspiration comes from characters most fans don’t want to read fic for, or ideas that go against popular fanon/characterization and so are doomed from the start. i end up feeling paralyzed and like i can’t write the unpopular ideas I want to write, because i hate knowing i could have done better by writing something with broader appeal. but whenever i try to write solely for numbers i lose motivation while the halfway through the fic. so i end up unable to write anything and feeling miserable because of it.

i want to see my unpopular ideas come to life, but i don’t want to see my fics crash and burn and keep missing the chance to create fic that people really love. so most times, i don’t write anything, but i hate that i’m so hamstrung by my own anxieties. i so desperately wish i could create one of those extremely well-known long fics that most people love and always rec everywhere, but i feel like i’m completely incapable of that. i know i should be writing for myself, but i’m greedy and want results and for people to like my fic, however unlikely that is. wanting to write my ideas but knowing i’ll limit my audience if i do is something that’s constantly on my mind. do you have any advice for me?

My biggest question after reading your ask is simply: why?

You're very clear about wanting to be a popular writer. You want to write a fic that lots of people talk about, and you want people to know who you are. Have you examined that desire at all?

You say that the things you actually want to write are not the things that will make you a popular author. That means you have a choice:

write things you don't care about with no guarantee of becoming that Big Name Fan or

write things you love and enjoy spending time writing and know that BNF status will probably never happen.

Writing fanfic is really not a great way to try to become popular. It's an even worse way to try to become "famous" in any kind of way. So dig into what it is that you hope to get from the "broader audience" that you could appeal to by writing something you don't really like.

Are you trying to get a feeling of being liked? Respected? Looked up to? Do you want to be someone other fans look to for advice or for setting the tone of the fandom? Do you want love? Power? Some kind of community connection? Recognition of the effort you put into your works?

Some of those things likely will require you to pretend to be someone you're not. You might even manage to write that one big fic that gets thousands of comments and tons of people talking about it on tumblr (or wherever else you care about, social media-wise).

Others you can probably still get by writing your "unpopular" ideas but seeking out your fellow fans. It will take more legwork to find them and you'll need to be willing to be the first one to reach out for a conversation, but it can definitely be done.

I'll leave it up to you to decide what you actually want, anon. But take your time and scrape off the top layer of shiny thoughts about popularity first. Then you'll be able to see what's underneath.

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

He’s staring at him.

Steve Harrington is staring at Eddie Munson.

The thing is, people don’t just stare at Eddie. Not for any reason that means anything good for Eddie. So when, completely unprompted, the fucking King of Hawkins High walks up to Eddie and says, “I need to talk to you,” Eddie thinks he’s entirely justified in the squeak he lets out.

“You? Talk? To me?” Wow. Great job, brain.

“Please,” Harrington whispers, and Eddie thinks desperately this must be some kind of joke, except he’s good at reading people, and he knows the desperation in Harrington’s eyes.

“Okay,” he says, stammers. “Um. There- there’s, behind the school, a, uh-”

“Table,” Harrington nods. “That works. Just…” he sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. “Leave the lunchbox at home.”

Eddie’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Then what the fuck do you want with me, dude?”

“I can’t explain. Not here, not now. Just. Please. After school, okay?”

Eddie looks at him. Really looks, studies his face, understands the lines by his eyes, the tightness of his mouth. His heart thumps as he realizes. He’s scared. “Okay,” he says, and means it.

Eddie’s a man of his word, so after school he makes his way to the table, pausing when it comes into view. Harrington’s already there, sitting with his head in his hands. Eddie calls out from a couple of paces away. “You sure you don’t want anything from the lunchbox?”

Harrington jumps, hands up, eyes round. Relaxes a little when he sees Eddie. “No. I- I’m good. I can’t, actually.”

Eddie frowns. “What, like, a sports thing? No one’s gotta know, dude, I’ve never been busted, I can keep a secret.”

Steve gives him a half-smile. “No. It’s- it’s not a sports thing. Just… sit down? And promise to listen?”

“Okay,” Eddie says, because he knows how comforting it can be to just have someone there, and he’s not a dick; clearly Harrington’s going through something. Though why he approached Eddie, of all people, he doesn’t know.

“Okay,” Harrington repeats back, taking a breath before starting. “If I were to tell you I’m from the future, a future in which we know each other, how would you ask me to prove it?”

Eddie blinks. He was ready for a lot of things, but not time travel. “Um. I dunno, man, I haven’t really thought about it.”

He takes another deep breath. “Can I try?”

“To- to prove you’re from the future?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie laughs, a little hysterically. “Man, where the fuck do I get the strain you’re on?”

He blinks. “What?”

Eddie gestures at him. “Come on, man, you have to admit you’re not really making sense here.”

Harrington sighs. Takes another breath. Says, “You live with your uncle Wayne. Your father taught you to hot wire cars when you were nine. You listen to Dio and Metallica and Ozzy Osbourne but your favorite song is I Will Always Love You, by Dolly Parton, because it was your mom’s favorite. The guitar pick you wear around your neck was hers. She taught you guitar. You love The Hobbit. Stop me when I’ve said enough.”

Eddie’s never been more scared in his life. “Listen, man, I dunno where you heard all that-”

“Eddie,” he says, implores, and digs something out of his pocket. Opens his hand to reveal a ring.

A ring Eddie already has on his finger.

“What the fuck,” Eddie whispers. Grabs for the ring before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea. Examines it, sees the dent from where his finger had gotten smashed in a door.

His hands start shaking.

“I’m from 1987,” Steve Harrington says, sure as anything. “And I’m trying to stop something terrible.”

“And what would that be?” Eddie asks, feeling strangely detached from the whole thing.

“Your death,” Steve Harrington says, still sure as anything.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect

[gojorgeous]

how do the jjk men treat you when ur on ur period? suguru specifically hehe <3

✰ JJK MEN: WHEN YOU'RE ON YOUR PERIOD ✰

pairing(s): gojo, geto, nanami, choso x afab!reader content: (MDNI 18+ only), nsfw-ish/suggestive, periods, period blood, period products, pet names, lots of fluff! a/n: i hope you like anon!! you have great timing cause i’m getting my period and i also have a uti pray for me besties i need help and antibiotics. left out toji and sukuna cause…. nah LMAO. enjoy, and remember ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!

✰ GOJO:

Lowkey loves when you’re on your period, but is just barely smart enough to never tell you that. 

His favorite part is that you always want more cuddles, which means more cuddles for him. 

Thinks period products are really amusing– loves playing with your hot water bottle cause it’s squishy. Finds those ones that look like stuffed animals at the store and brings home like five of them for you. 

Will definitely buy you pads/tampons but not without the obligatory “what size is your pussy” text. Won’t buy them until you respond with “extra super pretty” and then sends back this emoji -> 😋.

Highkey likes period sex. Knows it can relieve your cramps and will use that as an excuse at every opportunity if you’ll let him. 

Is always on some cheesy ass shit murmuring in your ear about how doing it on your period “bonds your souls”, too. 

Constantly offers to get you pregnant so you can avoid your period for the next nine months… he’s only half joking.

Will actually skip work to stay home and cuddle with you if you give him even the slightest inclination that you don’t want him to go. 

Watches movies with you and has gotten surprisingly good at rubbing little circles on your tummy that help with cramps.

 Keeps the house stocked with candy, but, then again… it’s always stocked with candy.

“Babe. Look what I just found at the store.”  You watch with furrowed brows as he sets the bags on your floor. You’re curled on the couch, a blanket tucked up around your neck. He’d made sure to roll you like a burrito before he’d left.  He pulls out… a cow? It looks like a stuffed animal, but when he shakes it you hear something sloshing around inside. You raise a brow. “Ummmm–”  “It’s one of those hot water bottle thingies! For your cramps!” He tosses the poor cow on the floor and digs around in the bag again. “Oh my god, they had so many. I got the cow, the dolphin–” He tosses a dolphin out of the bag, followed by a puppy, a raccoon, and a cat. “Do you want me to put one in the microwave for you?”  He looks far too excited to turn down, even though you just heated up your old hot water bottle minutes ago. You smile and nod. “Yeah, baby. Thanks.” 

✰ GETO:

Mans TAKES CARE of you. Like… fully. 

Is really sympathetic and gentle when your cramps are killing you– brushing your hair back, rubbing circles on your tummy, letting you put his warm hands wherever it hurts. 

Runs you a warm bath and climbs right in with you. Makes you lean back against him while he gives you a massage and works out all the knots in your neck and shoulders. 

Buys you period products before your period starts if he remembers. If he doesn’t he’s happy to run down to the store. Doesn’t need to ask which ones you like– he already knows.

Wraps you up in the comfiest blankets and cuddles with you wherever you ask. Gives the best cuddles, too. Rubs your back in a way that has you falling asleep in seconds.

Makes sure you take your meds on time and brings you a glass of water. 

Secretly loves period sex. Will never push you for it, but gets super horny at just the thought. Loves the sight of your blood on his dick. Makes him feel possessive of you in a way that’s kind of scary. 

“Sugu…” you whine. Your cramps are bad. You’ve been curled in a ball all morning, even with all the meds Suguru has been giving you. “It hurts so bad.”  You feel him shifting behind you and then his hands gently prying you to lie on your back. You whimper, the pain spiking again as soon you roll out of the fetal position. His face appears above you, a couple stray strands of black hair tickling your cheeks. His smile is soft, but full of sympathy as he settles over you.  “I’m sorry, baby. I wish I could make it go away…”  He moves down your body, settling between your thighs and resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. You sigh when you feel his fingers skate over your tummy, rubbing little circles into the skin that somehow work wonders for the pain. You sigh with relief, a bit of the tension ebbing away. “That feels nice…”  Your body relaxes a bit, finally getting a break from the incessant pain. Suguru only smiles, looking up at you through hooded eyes when he presses a kiss just below your belly button. You don’t fail to notice the way his thumb is sliding under the fabric of your panties.  “I can think of something that would feel even nicer…” 

✰ NANAMI:

Prepares for your period. 

Has your cycle marked down on his calendar so he always knows when you’re starting. 

Stops by the store a couple of days ahead of time to buy pads/tampons/meds and your favorite snacks. 

Runs a bath for you every night and fills it with all of your favorite soaps and scents. 

Cooks. Mans knows how to cook and does extra of it when you’re on your period. Will make you nutritious meals and urge you to drink water, but always brings you something sweet if you’re craving it. 

Heats up your hot water bottle every thirty minutes without you ever having to ask. 

Lays out a fresh change of clothes for you whenever you’re in the shower. 

Cuddles you whenever you want, but only after he’s tended to all of your other needs (meds, food, water, etc.). 

Will have sex if you want, but will never push you for it. If you just want the relief from your cramps, he’ll just use his fingers to get you off and then pull you back into his arms.

“Time for your bath, sweetheart.”  You nearly grumble in protest, but how can you do such a thing when he takes such good care of you? Still, you don’t want to move. Just existing hurts, much less walking to the bathroom.  Despite your resistance to saying it aloud, Nanami still seems to understand what you’re thinking. No more than a second later he’s scooping you into his arms and carrying you to the bathroom.  “You know you’ll feel better after, love.”  You nod weakly against his chest. “Will you get in with me?”  He pauses. He’s got dinner to make and he wanted to change the sheets for you… One nuzzle of your face into his neck has him throwing all those plans out the window.  “Of course, princess. I’ll get in with you.” 

✰ CHOSO:

Is new to this stuff so he lowkey freaks out. 

Worries that you’re actually in danger cause… there’s blood??? 

Chills out eventually, but is still irrationally convinced that you’re injured. 

When i tell you this man is at your BECK AND CALL, I mean it. He will do every little thing you ask. Fetches water, food, snacks– whatever you need. 

Mans is panicked when he can’t find the candy bar you want at the grocery store. 

Happily buys period products for you but has to facetime you cause the poor baby is overwhelmed and confused by all the options. 

Is kind of attached to you like glue. Thinks you’re somehow more breakable in this state will hold you in his arms permanently apart from when you need to bathe, eat, or use the bathroom. 

Actually freaks when you have a bout of cramps that makes you hiss in pain. Cannot believe you have to do this every month and hates feeling so useless in taking the pain away. Eagerly learns that he can put his warm hands on your tummy and it helps.

Is actually amazed when you tell him that sex helps with the cramps. Worries about hurting you, but is completely down. Mans is definitely not afraid of a little blood lmao.

“Baby… there are so many…”  You can’t help but stifle a laugh looking at your boyfriend’s stressed expression through your phone screen. He’d run down to the store to get you some more pads– you just hadn’t anticipated how overwhelming the experience would be for him.  “I know, Cho. I’m sorry. Here– back up so I can see the whole aisle.”  He does as you ask, flipping the camera around so you can see what he’s looking at. You have to bite your lip this time to keep the laugh in. You’ve never realized just how many options there really are. “The ones toward the bottom right, baby. With the pink box.”  The camera shakes a little as he follows your directions, arm sticking out like he’s playing pin the tail on the donkey.  “These?” His hand hovers over a box that is pink but not the pink you need.  “Down a couple racks.”  Finally, his hands close around the right box. “Thank you, baby. I didn’t think about how confusing this would be for you…”  The camera flips again and you grin at the soft soft smile on his lips. “Don’t apologize. Want me to grab some candy, too?”

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @enchantedsylveon, @httpstoyosi, @bbyxxm, @6kabuki, @myriliy, @complexivelovely

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

[valsdelulucorner]

Grim Head Cannons <3

This is strictly platonic because grim is, well he's a cat

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

Grim loves to sit and lay across your shoulders and neck, weather he is just tired or just wants to hear better, he loves just resting on your shoulders. He can't hear the conversation properly? He's on your shoulders. He's tired and doesn't want to walk/float anymore? He's laying across your shoulders while he rests his face into the side of your neck. If you have long hair he'll use that to cover himself. If he gets threatened or annoyed by another student. He's standing on the back of your neck and leaning against the top of his head, hiding being you while he screeches things back. He gets scared? He's digging his claws into your shoulders while he hides behind you. Practically for anything, he would use it as a excuse to get on top of your shoulders.

After getting to know you more and spending basically all of his time with you, he starts to grow protective of his henchman. You are one of the first people to actually show him kindness and not call him names, the first person to actually hug him and care for him. He likes it, he doesn't want to loose something so precious to him. If he gets jealous when you talk to or hang out with the twst guys, he will just climb onto your shoulders and add himself into the conversation, acting like nothing is happening while he stares daggers into your companion. Your his henchmen, not theirs!

Ok hear me out, whenever Grims emotions get really strong, the fire in his ears start to grow and spread. Its difficult to actually get him to a point where his emotions get so out of control but when you do, keep a fire extinguisher or a fire blanket near by, though a fire blanket is preferred. Be careful when approaching before wrapping him in the blanket, just hold him in said blanket like a baby for a while before he calms down. He'll act like nothing happened but in reality, he's thankful to you, maybe a little annoyed at you if you use the fire extinguisher on him

He grooms you like a cat sometimes when your chilling with him, hear me out. If you guys are in bed ready for sleep or just laying with on a couch, he will start to lick and arrange your hair. If you have short hair, he will probably use his tounge because its easier for him. If you have long hair, he found out the hard way that grooming long hair is extremely difficult so he Justs uses his little paws instead. If you try and lick him back he will smack you with his paw before laying on you in the most annoying, inconvenient way

If you have a bag of marshmallows and a hungry grim, be prepared to make some home made roast marshmallows. I like the idea you introduce him to roasted marshmallows, he though marshmallows were mid but once you showed him the world of toasted marshmallows, he cant eat them without toasting them a little bit

If you come to twst as a chef or a Taylour, grim better be prepared to be either your little helper or your little test subject. If your a chef (and if Crowley actually gives you food for once) he will happily try and eat whatever you give him. I feel like he would love your food but like it abit on the burnt side, he eats rocks for heavens sake so i feel like he would like stuff more on the crunchy side. If your a clothing Taylour, he will begrudgingly agree to let you take measurements and use him to make little dresses, hats, ties, whatever you want. As long as you give him some tuna afterwards, he'll complain less

If you get gravely injured after a overblot or almost die during a fight, he would genuinely be so concerned and scared about loosing his henchman, you mean alot to him so seeing you bleeding and unconscious scares him. Once your allowed to go back to Ramshackle, he will honestly do his best to not cause trouble for you while you recover. If you have a broken arm, you are absolutely not allowed to hold anything around him, he will either carry them for you or make the first years carry your stuff instead. If you have a broken leg and need crutches, he will either sit on your shoulder and make sure no one gets close to you or he will walk along beside you and make sure you are not pushing yourself to far. He gets so protective of you while your recovering, he will make sure anyone that comes to help you keeps their distance, constant glares coming from him. He seems pissy but he is deathly afraid for you

Oh my lord, he will be absolutely heartbroken if you find a way back to your own world, your his best friend. If you manage to leave, I don't think he will be the same again. In a few years he will be alright but initially when you do leave, he is absolutely depressed. If he is willing to do absolutely anything to keep you here in twisted wonderland, he will break your mirror and blame it on one of the side characters, being there to comfort you while Crowley tries to find another way to send you home. Don't worry about why the mirrors are starting to break, grim is always there to comfort his Human

He likes to cuddle with you at night, he is basically a cat. He will either rest on your chest, will let you hold him in your arms while you lay in your side, rest underneath your armpit or curl up next to your neck. I love the head cannon that Grim is able to purr. When he is relaxed and cuddled up into your side, he will purr softly while he's dead asleep next to you. Dont mention this to him or he will try and stop it, he's a little embarrassed

he calls you "Human" "His Henchman"

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

I love this little trouble maker, sorry if i did write him abit out of character.

Who should i do next?

[moonstruckme]

Hi 🥺 can I pretty please ask for a fic with emt!marauders treating and helping reader get through getting stitches? Maybe having a huge fear of needles and they always make her so faint and nauseous so the boys fix up their clumsy girl and coach her through getting them because it’s just the absolute worst time ever?

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting! These always get so long because I get wrapped up in the semantics haha. I don’t think this is an accurate reflection of how things work for paramedics, but for the purposes of fiction we’re gonna ignore that :3

Cw: needles, hospital, mention of nausea

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words

James is murmuring what you imagine to be placations into the side of your head, so quietly you can’t make them out, and you’re doing your best to keep your hand completely still as a nurse cleans the cut on your palm. 

Sirius is watching you from beside the small bed with tension written all over him. He’s digging his fingernails into his biceps and looking like he might actually jump the nurse if she makes a wrong move. 

“Where’s Remus?” he asks, not for the first time. 

“He’s just finishing up with another patient,” she answers again. “He’ll be here shortly.” 

As eager as you are to see your boyfriend, dread curls like vines around your ribcage. James, sensing this, presses his lips to your temple. 

Ordinarily, paramedics don’t handle stitches, but at your request and after some sweet-talking on James’ part, the director agreed to let Remus see to you. What was staunchly not allowed, however, was for anyone not currently on shift to step in, so your remaining two boyfriends are stuck providing emotional support. James seems to be taking this better, whereas Sirius has been antsy and overprotective since you’d arrived. 

A fraction of the tautness in his biceps dissipates when a familiar set of quick footsteps draws closer on the tiled floor outside your curtain. The nurse is the only one who doesn’t seem to notice, the three of you perking up like meerkats the moment before Remus pulls back the curtain, stepping inside. 

“Hi,” he says, a small, automatic smile curving his lips at the sight of all of you. 

The nurse finishes with perfect timing, tossing the wipe into the trash as she starts to leave. You and Remus both thank her, and once the curtain closes the four of you in together everything feels suddenly more right. You hear James sigh softly.

Remus gets closer than he was willing with a colleague present, wrapping a kind hand around your elbow and soothing upward from there. “Hi, darling,” he says again, softer now. “They tell me you’ve had a kitchen accident.” 

“Totally intentional,” James jokes. “We all just really missed you, needed an excuse to visit.” 

You try to laugh for his sake, and though it’s not fully felt it still helps to loosen the knot of unease in your chest. 

Remus smiles gently. His thumb strokes up and down the back of your arm. “How are you doing?” he asks you. 

You do your best to smile back at him, though from Sirius’ expression it must not be very good. “Honestly? I already feel kind of nauseous.” 

“That’s okay,” he promises, and you can tell he’s making his voice extra low and smooth on purpose. Any other time you might laugh at him for it, but actually it’s quite helpful. “It makes sense to be a bit nervous, yeah? But you won’t feel anything, and so long as you don’t look at it while I’m working I think we’ll be all right.” 

Remus looks you in the eyes for a moment longer to make sure you understand. His eyes are the color of tea steeped just the way you like it, warm and honey-sweet. And maybe you’re feeling vulnerable and mushy, but you think you fall a little more in love with him. 

You nod, letting him take your injured hand. 

“I have to numb it,” he warns you, “and that will likely be the hardest part, but once it’s done things will go fairly easily. Okay?” 

You press your lips together, nodding again not because you want to but because you know you don’t have much choice. James readjusts his hold on you, gripping you tightly with one arm around your shoulders and the other folding your head into his chest. You suspect it’s partly to keep you from moving and partly because he knows you need it, but it feels as though he’s just doing his best to give you a continual hug. You appreciate the effort. 

You follow the movement of Remus’ hand as he picks up a syringe from the tray the nurse had brought in. There’s that odd tingly feeling of the blood draining from your face, the awful queasiness in your stomach. 

“Don’t look,” Sirius tells you, voice just as caring as it is tense. You can tell he’s trying to calm himself for your sake, even if he’s not very good at it. You’ve heard from James and Remus that he’s cool as a cucumber when he works with other patients, but when it’s you or someone he cares about he can’t help getting a bit rattled. “You’re okay, baby, just close your eyes. Think of something else.” 

You can manage the first but not the second. When you feel Remus shifting his hold on your hand your breaths shallow. 

“Quick poke,” he murmurs, and your grip on James tightens as his does on you. 

Though you think you’re prepared for it, a mortifying pained sound rises in your throat at the sting. Both James and Sirius coo sympathetically, but then it’s done, and Remus is murmuring praises while James presses kiss after kiss into your hair. 

You open your eyes to find Sirius has moved closer. He passes you a vomit bag, and you take it thankfully, trying to breathe through the closure in your throat. 

“You’ve got it,” he tells you, brows knit together by both sympathy and concern. “You’re okay, it’s already over with.” 

“I don’t really feel like I’m completely out of the woods,” you try to joke. The truth to it tightens something in you nonetheless. 

“You won’t even feel the rest,” James assures you, still with his lips stuck to you like it’s his job. He smells nice, his eucalyptus shampoo cutting through the icky hospital scent. “You’ll hardly know it’s happening, lovie, we’ll just talk about other things and be out of here before you know it.” 

“I really don’t want to faint,” you say. “I feel like today has been bad enough without fainting.” 

“I’m inclined to agree,” says Remus. You’ve been avoiding looking at him, wary of catching sight of another needle or worsening your nausea by seeing your cut, but his gloved hands are empty. He cradles your injured hand in one, the other drawing a tranquilizing path up and down the side of your thigh. “You won’t faint, sweetheart. We’ll do our best to keep you distracted, and if you need to take breaks we can do that. It’s whatever you need.” 

You blow out a long breath, nodding. Remus gives you a small smile. 

“I only ask that you don’t hold any of this against me,” he teases. “I’m going to require lots of assurance that you’re not upset when I get home.” 

James coos, sounding like he’s considering pulling Remus into your hug as well. 

“No, I know this is all my own fault,” you admit. Sirius huffs his agreement. “I could never hold my clumsiness against you.” 

“I appreciate that.” Remus sends Sirius an intrigued look. “Though maybe I’ll have to make it up to you by cooking, since it seems like you could be barred from the kitchen for some time. Can you feel that?” 

You blink at him. “Feel what?” 

“Good.” 

Remus starts messing with things on the tray again, and both James and Sirius seem to come to attention, James putting his arm around your head again while Sirius pulls up a chair by the bed. 

“The medicine’s working,” Remus tells you, “so I’m going to go ahead and get started, okay? Just try and relax for me, sweetheart.” 

Your eyes go automatically to what he’s doing, but Sirius says sharply, “Hey.” 

That gets your attention, and he gives you an apologetic look, gentling his tone as he takes your good hand. 

“Just look at me,” he tells you. You don’t know if he knows it, but his thumb is tracing a line below your thumb that’s exactly where your cut is on your other palm. “Are you okay to talk, pretty girl?” 

You hum. It comes out high-pitched and shakier than you would’ve expected. 

“Why don’t you tell us about that book you want Remus to read?” 

For a moment, surprise eclipses your anxiety. “You really wanna hear about that?” 

Sirius grins. “No, but you’ve got a captive audience. If I were you I’d seize my chance.” 

You start to smile back at him, but then there’s an odd tugging sensation on your hand. Sirius notices the change, moving to block your view with his hand before you can look towards Remus’ work. Still, your stomach rolls uneasily. Your head feels unnaturally light. 

Sirius says your name firmly. “Tell us about the book, baby.” 

“It’s…” You fight to solidify your thoughts. “It’s a true story.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I thought it was fiction, but it’s not.” Another tug, and you whimper. “Sorry, I don’t feel well.” 

“You’re doing great,” James says, and Sirius takes the bag from you, opening it up in case you need it. “Just stay relaxed, we’ve got you.” 

“What’s the true story?” Sirius asks, trying to get you back on task. “What’s it about?” 

“This guy,” you answer. “He’s from Syria, but he lives in New Orleans and he’s there when Hurricane Katrina hits. I’m not that far in, but so far it’s about, like—” you swallow “—how he’s discriminated against even when he’s helping people.” 

Though you try to stop it, a tear skids down your cheek. Sirius wipes it away gently. “Yeah?” he asks you. “Are you liking it so far?” 

You nod, feeling more in your own body as you try to focus on the conversation. Even the panic is a bit of a relief, better than the strange weightlessness of your head when you’re on the brink of passing out. 

“I don’t think I would have picked it up if I’d known it was nonfiction,” you tell Sirius. He smiles wryly, which looks like it takes effort. “I usually only read fiction, but this was done really well.” 

“I think you’re right,” he replies. “Remus absolutely should read that.” 

“Not you?” James teases. 

Sirius shoots a mean look over your head, though you can tell he’s relieved at the familiar banter. “Are you volunteering?” he asks James. “No? Didn’t think so.” 

“Surely there’s a movie version we can watch instead. Lovie, do you know?” 

“I haven’t heard of one,” you admit, “but the book’s a bit older, so maybe the movie came out before I’d heard about it.” 

“We’ll have to look it up,” Sirius decides. “If it’s really that good, there’ll be a movie.” 

That’s something you could argue about forever, and he knows it, but just then you hear something snip and Remus says, “There.” 

“There?” you echo. 

Sirius looses a breath, and James hugs you tightly. “You’re all done, angel,” he says brightly. 

“Oh.” You feel, perhaps, not as relieved as you ought to, and Sirius chuckles at your confusion, taking your face between his hands and planting a kiss between your brows. 

“You really are done,” he promises you. “You killed it, babe.” 

James loosens his grip on you and Sirius moves his hand, letting you turn your head to see Remus securing a bandage over your palm. He looks up at you when he pulls off his gloves, pride and fondness mingled in his expression. His eyes narrow at the look on your face. 

“Hug?” he guesses, and you nod as you sit forward, wrapping your hands around his shoulders. 

It’s the closure you need, relief dissolving the tension in your muscles and gut as Remus’ thumb strokes your nape reassuringly. “Thanks,” you mumble into his shoulder. 

“You did it, darling,” he tells you. “Nothing to thank me for.” 

“Before I bled all over our counter, I was cutting tomatoes for pasta tonight,” you say. “I’ll finish it up when I get home so I can thank you with dinner.” 

Sirius scoffs loudly. “Yeah, fat chance. You’re not going near another knife for the rest of your life.” 

You roll your eyes as you pull away from Remus, but he raises an eyebrow at you, smiling faintly. “I’m with him on this one,” he says. “At least a temporary kitchen ban is in order.” 

You groan, leaning sideways until your shoulder rests on James’ chest. He wraps his arms around you automatically. “You guys are so lame,” you gripe. 

“Don’t worry, lovie,” says James, kissing the side of your nose lightly. “I’ll finish your pasta when we get home. Everybody wins.”

[aidaronan]

The years go by. The retail jobs that Steve thinks are temporary keep piling up, but he has no idea what else to do with his life so he just keeps on keeping on.

Until a large tree falls on the lawn of the little house he managed to buy and he gets the quote on removal and the number literally hurts his soul.

He buys a small chainsaw instead. Over the course of a few weeks, he gets most of the branches cut up. He collects some large rocks from down by the quarry and digs out a fire pit in his backyard. On his days off, his friends come over and they sit out back and have a few beers. The pile of wood dwindles. The giant trunk is another story though. His chainsaw isn't big enough for it. Burning it would take forever, and Steve's terrified he'd disappoint Smoky the Bear. He's at a loss.

Until he sees another giant trunk in someone's yard carved into a bear.

He knows what to do then. Not a bear, but something else. Through trial and error, the trunk becomes the rough shape of a woman, the remnants of the branches like a crown on her head. It's not as amazing as the bear he saw, but it's his. He finds he loves the smell of sawdust and the feeling of creating something.

Just like that, Steve realizes what he wants to do. It takes several months and a lot of yard sales, but he scrounges up the tools he needs to start woodworking. He learns to measure twice and cut once. He makes tables and chairs and carves them with art and designs that get better and better the more he learns. Shockingly, people actually buy his pieces.

Even more shocking comes the realization that he's making enough money to do it full time. He puts in his two weeks notice at Melvald's and hands in his assistant manager badge.

He's not sure he's happy, but he is content. It feels good to work hard and actually have things to show for it. It also feels good to work muscles he hasn't used since high school. He carries on for a few years like that, creating and learning and creating some more. Then Eddie Munson blows back into town. Invited back so Hawkins can have their most famous alumnus sing the national anthem at homecoming. Steve's honestly surprised he shows at all. "Can't believe you didn't tell them kiss your hairy ass," Steve says. Because of course Eddie ends up around his fire pit, sipping on Steve's cheap beer like he doesn't have three Grammy awards on his mantel. The years fall away with each drink, reminding Steve of just how much it had hurt when Eddie left. He'd wanted Eddie so bad back then, more than he'd ever wanted anyone. He can feel the echoes of that deep ache across time.

"Pfft. Don't you know all famous people wax our asses now? All the rage in LA." Eddie cuts a look at him and smirks when Steve rolls his eyes, grateful for the lighthearted moment to snap him out of his maudlin nostalgia. "Really though I thought about it, but then I thought it would be way funnier to donate a metric fuckton of money to Hawkins High with the stipulation that it go to the theater and band programs. Kind of bummed they couldn't honor my other request though."

"Which was?"

"My old Hellfire throne. I miss her, but apparently she's not around anymore. Something about water damage."

"Oh yeah. Water main busted a few years back and flooded the theater. I remember that." "Yeah. Had to settle for the promise they'd make a game lounge and stock it with all the supplies a budding young nerd needs."

"That's really nice, Eds."

Eddie shrugs. "I've been known to be nice on occasion. You'll come to homecoming, right? Moral support?"

Steve hasn't been to homecoming in years because he sees the other people who stayed in town all the time, and he has no interest in seeing the people who didn't. He can only answer the same questions so many times. Oh, I'm doing woodwork now. Yep, I still live right here. Nope, still not married, no kids.

He goes though, and he answers the uncomfortable questions. Because Eddie asked him to. Because no matter how long it's been, Steve can't deny that some part of him still...

He says goodbye after, and Eddie leaves again, and Steve tries not to think about that too much in the following days.

He's halfway into the project before he realizes what he's building. He'd seen Eddie's throne quite a few times back when. What he doesn't have memories of, he makes up. He adds his own touches too, making it a throne fit for a rock star, a nerd, a friend.

He carves ornate patterns, he creates scenes of dragons being beaten back by a man with a guitar, crowds of people that could be knights or concertgoers.

It's his favorite piece he's ever done, and his hands are shaking when he dials Eddie's number. He gets an answering machine and stumbles through a message.

"I made you something. I guess it's kind of silly, but it's here in Hawkins if you want it. Or I'm sure you can afford the shipping if you don't want to come. Just, I made you a chair. It's more of a... Well, you'll see. Unless you don't want to... It's Steve by the way." He hangs up before he can embarrass himself even more.

Eddie doesn't call him back. One day passes and then another. Steve tries not to let it get to him. He works on orders and new projects. He enjoys his little backyard oasis. He rents a few movies and thinks they're okay.

He's debarking some wood in his driveway when the rental car pulls up, Eddie stepping out in ripped jeans and an old Metallica tee. "Hi again, Stevie."

"Oh." Steve clears his throat. "The thing's in the garage. I'll..."

Eddie doesn't say anything for a long time, circling the throne, running his tattooed fingers over each little detail.

"You made this whole thing?"

"I did."

"For me?" Eddie looks at him then, one hand still touching the wood like he doesn't want to let go. Even under the harsh lights of the garage, his eyes are such a warm shade of brown that Steve forgets to breathe.

He nods. "For you."

"Why?"

There are a hundred answers Steve could give, but he spent so long not knowing who he was or who he wanted to be. Too long. "Because you'll always be the one that got away. Because some part of me will always want to make you smile no matter how long it's been."

Eddie falls into the throne like he just got the wind knocked out of him.

"You don't have to respond to that," Steve says. "You can just say thank you and take the chair."

"I can." Eddie blows out a breath. "But that would be incredibly stupid considering half my early ballads are about you."

"What?" Unfair. Steve doesn't have a chair to fall into.

"Oh sure, I changed the hes to shes for a while there because..." Eddie waves his hand. "But they're about you, Steve. God, I should've asked you out. I just thought..."

Hearing those words is a lot like seeing that carved bear all over again, something clicking into place that wasn't quite right before.

"Go out with me now then," Steve says. "Or stay in. I've got a frozen lasagna and I rented Contact."

"Steve Harrington? Asking Eddie 'the Freak' Munson on a date? Did hell freeze over?"

"Pfft." Steve takes a step closer toward what he wants most. "Hell froze over in 1986, Eddie. You were there."

Five months and a lot of long distance phone bills later, Steve opens Harrington Woodworking in Los Angeles. That same day, Eddie takes photos for Rolling Stone posing in an ornate throne in his living room. He tells the reporter exactly who made it and what he means. At concerts, he starts singing those ballads the way he always wanted to. More often than not, Steve stands in the wings singing along.

[feelbokkie]

the one where minho gets you exactly what you want

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: fluff

pov: 2nd person

description: it's impossible to tell minho no. espceially when you tell him you don't want anything for your birthday.

pairing: boyfriend!minho x reader

warnings: none

word count: 1,207

©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

"Hang on--wait a second--Minho!" You call out as the bag you are looking at is suddenly yanked from your hands.

Minho ignores you, as he continues to make his way to the checkout counter. He walks quickly, not quite running or speed walking. You know his pace, this is the fastest you've ever seen him move when he isn't dancing. And yet, he moves swiftly like he's on the stage.

He's already halfway to the checkout counter when you manage to catch up to him. Somehow, one of his steps is two of yours and you're having trouble catching up to him. His eyes keep facing forward, focusing on his end goal. Maybe you're imagining it, but you think he is moving even faster.

The two of you finally reach the front of the store. One other person

"W...what are you doing?" You try to catch your breath from the unexpected jog you just took.

"Buying your birthday presents," Minho responds nonchalantly, finally turning to you.

"I said I didn't want or need anything for my birthday though." You remind him softly.

It's true, Minho has been asking you what you want for your birthday for weeks, and each time, you've told him 'nothing.' You didn't think much of it when he invited you out to lunch. You thought he would settle with just paying for your meal and drop the subject of getting you a gift altogether. So when he suggested going to the mall afterward, it completely slipped your mind.

"Uh huh," He turns forward again, checking to see if the customer who was ahead of you is still finishing his transaction.

"You paid for lunch already. And I don't need anything--" You try to pull the small brown backpack out of his arms to no avail.

"But you want this, right?" He questions, still not looking at you.

"That's not the point--"

Minho cuts you off by walking up to the counter and setting his things down in front of the cashier. You watch in amazement as you realize that all of the things that Minho is buying are things that you were contemplating buying yourself but changed your mind last minute.

"Did you two find everything okay?" The cashier asks cheerfully.

"Actually--"

"We found everything okay," Minho cuts you off. You watch as he pulls his wallet out of his pocket.

Minho makes polite conversation with the cashier as he rings up the items. He's wearing a pair of blue jeans and a black polo shirt that you got him. You can't remember if it was for Christmas or his birthday. His face is covered up with a mask and his hair so he's unrecognizable at first. You know it can't be comfortable. You know how he feels about his hair being in his eyes and how the strings of the face mask always dig into his skin. He's wearing it more for your privacy than his. He doesn't mind running into fans but he knows how some of them can be so he's dressed as inconspicuous as possible.

"When did you grab all of those?" You question as you watch the cashier continuing to bag everything.

"I can be sneaky too." He pats the top of your head without breaking his concentration.

"You don't have to get me anything for my birthday. I already know that you love me." You mumble as he slides his wallet, getting ready to pay.

"You should let people do nice things for you every once in a while. Not everything has a double meaning. I'm buying them for you because you want them and I love you and it's your birthday. I'm not trying to convince you of anything. You deserve nice things so let me give them to you." He hums softly.

You clench your fists, knowing he's right. But you really don't need anything for your birthday. Spending time with him is enough. All the little things he does for you are enough.

Your eyes glance over to the cash register and zero in on the balance.

$358.60

"Hey, Lee Minho!" You quickly grab his wrist to stop him from paying.

Minho turns to you and blinks a few times. You stare at him with pleading eyes, trying to convince him to stop.

"Eh erm," He grunts before taping his card to the card reader, your grip having no obvious effect on him.

Ding

You sigh as you release his arm, defeated. Minho thanks the cashier and takes the back from him. He throws his left arm around your shoulder and leads you out of the store. You can practically imagine the smirk on his face underneath his mask.

"You're going to use the things I got you right? And they'll make you happy?" He asks quietly.

"Yeah," You mumble.

"Then I don't mind spending that much on you. I would spend more but I know that it would make you uncomfortable. But I also want to spoil you because you deserve it." He says loudly as you exit the store. It's not crowded out, there's less of a worry.

"I already feel spoiled dating you so I really don't need much else from you,"

You're not sure how you got lucky to have a boyfriend like Minho. Who, while being a bit more on the quiet side, is the most attentive and caring person you've been around. He always seems to pick up on your moods before it even registers in your brain. And he tends to do little acts of service for you like cook you food for work or pick up a copy of a book that you mentioned being curious about once. He's already given you so much, there genuinely wasn't anything else you could think of to ask from him.

He stops walking, forcing you to slightly jerk back. He holds up the shopping bag in front of you, "Just take this. You can think of me whenever you use the backpack then. Put a little Leebit on it and my photocard or something. That way I'm always with you. You can even use that picture of me with the prop gun so it wards off other guys. And when you tell them that it's a picture of your boyfriend, they'll just think you're a delusional fan and back off. Now say thank you and give me a kiss."

"You're ridiculous," You laugh, taking the back from him.

"What was that?" He teases, pulling down his mask to reveal his infamous mischievous smirk. He stares you down and taps on his lips to give you a hint.

"Thank you, Minho. I love you," You give in, the heat in your body rushing to your cheeks.

"You're forgetting something,"

"Ah, you're a brat," You gently press your lips to his. Only momentarily in case someone spots you.

"No, that's you. Now let's go home and rest, I ran today and I'm tired."

"Yes, yes, I saw. Surprised your old body can move that fast still."

"You want to talk about old? You're the one who aged today."

"Don't start with me."

"Hehe," He giggles, pulling his mask up and dropping his arm to lace your fingers together. "Happy birthday, jagia."

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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[tangerinesteve]

thinking about ace/demi Eddie being terrified to be with Steve. Like he sees the way Steve looks at him. Knows how he feels about Steve. Can't believe Steve might feel the same. So he tries to keep things friendly, backs off on the flirting.

But one day Steve actually asks him out. Like on a fucking actual real date. And Eddie wants to say yes. His whole being shaking with want. But he can't speak. Just shakes his head. And Steve backtracks, is all,

"oh. Yeah. No. That's- that's okay. Sorry if i- did i read this wrong? I thought-" and he looks so confused, sad eyes on Eddie, his hands fidgeting together in front of him. And Eddie can't fucking take it. He's like,

"You didn't read it wrong. I just... i can't... give you what you want. I don't like sex. Or like... i dont want it? Or might want it later, but not right now? I don't know. It's confusing. And hard to explain. I just-" he cuts off, his breath shaking in his chest and Steve's just looking at him, his face open and he's just listening, nods a little, encouraging Eddie to keep going. Eddie sighs, drops his head into his hands and mumbles.

"I just want you to be happy Steve. And i know you like sex. I'm sure its great. For you. But i don't... i don't care about it. I don't need it or really want it? I just... i like you so much Steve. And I'd genuinely love nothing more than to go out with you. And- and be with you. But just... not like that. At least not... not for awhile. Maybe not...ever." and Eddie's crying softly now, wipes at his face and looks up at Steve and see him looking back with the softest fucking look. He looks so fucking fond, and now Eddie's confused. His brow furrowed. And Steve scoots closer, reaches for Eddie's face and just cradles it and says,

"I just wanna be with you too Eddie. I don't need sex. That's not- i mean it's nice, really nice, sometimes. But i think... maybe it'd be nice to be with someone and not have it be about that? Is that- is that okay?" Steve moves his thumbs ovwr Eddie's cheeks, wiping the tears away.

"Steve. I might never want it. That's- that's a lot to ask i can't-"

"You're not asking. I'm offering." Steve licks his lips, takes a deep breath.

"I don't wanna be with you for sex. I like you Eddie. You're ridiculous, and smart, and kind, and so fucking weird. And you make me smile. You make me happy." Steve shrugs,

"That's why i wanna be with you. Cuz i like you. And i think you like me. So I'd like- I'd like to try. If you want?" His hand is on Eddie's thigh now. Eddie's heart is pounding. And Steve's still looking at him with that soft look. Eddie nods.

"Okay. Yeah. I wanna try. I want to." Eddie lays his hand over Steve's, he's shaking. Steve smiles at him, soft and sweet.

"Is kissing okay Eds? Cuz i really wanna kiss you right now." His smile grows as he talks, he looks giddy now, smiling like he can't help it. Eddie bites his lip, teeth digging into the bottom one as he smiles around them. He nods again.

"Yeah. Yeah kissing's okay." Eddie's says, breathless. Steve nods, his smile fading as he leans closer, his eyes on Eddie's mouth. Eddie closes his eyes when Steve's nose brushes his cheek, lets Steve lead.

It's just a soft press of lips, and then another. And then one more as Steve tilts his head the other way and slots their lips back together. His fingers curling into the hair at the nape of Eddie neck, not pulling, just resting there, holding Eddie close, like he's something precious. Like he's worth waiting for. Like he's happy just to have him, however he can.

Eddie smiles into the kiss. Feels Steve smile too, their teeth clicking as Steve keeps kissing him through their smiles, and eventual laughter. Steve kisses over his cheeks, and his nose, and his eyes, kisses all over his face until Eddie's laughing into his shoulder and Steve just holds him, laughing too, his hands moving over Eddie's back softly, holding him close as they settle together on the couch.

"I just want you, Eddie. Just you." Steve whispers, kisses Eddie's shoulder before Eddie pulls back and looks at him, tears in his eyes again.

"I want you too." Eddie shrugs, sniffles, wipes his face with the back of his hand. Steve smiles, bright and sweet, and tackles Eddie back onto the couch, settling on top of him and kissing him again and again and again.

[lilac-5ky]

Holed Up (Husband!Toji x Fem!Reader)

mini kinktober tribute: stuck in a wall/hole

plot: you should've known that asking Toji to help you out of a hole would lead him inside another—or that time you got stuck in the dog house and he bailed on you for KFC.

tags: MDNI, stuck in a wall/hole, pet play (kinda), breeding, doggy style, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), spanking, pet names (bitch, baby), established relationship, crack plot, unsolicited kfc orders, i promise toji loves reader, he's just joking guys.

wc: 2.2k

Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist | AO3

“Whatcha doing?”

Sarcasm rolls from your husband’s tongue as he stares down at you. Back arched, knees bent, and head encased by wooden planks. Not the most flattering position to be found in, especially with how the light autumn breeze blows at your dress and parts its layers, opening a window to the pink panties of your choice.

His question feels excessive. He knows exactly what you are doing. It was only this morning that you asked him to dig poor ol’ Mister Stinky’s remains from the dog house and he claimed he’d rather buy his son a replacement. No arguing there, but should Megumi see what became of his favored stuffed animal—fuzzy entrails gutted out of the frog’s shredded belly in a path initiating from his bedroom—he’ll be having nightmares for weeks to come.

Besides, you doubt synthetic is the kind of fiber your vet prescribed for your puppy's diet.

“What you should’ve done instead.” You finally spit out, contempt over what Toji’s long fingers could’ve accomplished without him needing to stick half his body into a hole like your, admittedly, dumbass self did.

“For thirty minutes straight? Damn, seems I overestimated ya.”

Even though your view of him is limited to a pair of overworn black slippers, you can vividly picture his scarred lips pulling over his teeth in another of his complacent smirks that scream I told you so.

“Don’t have anything better to do than time me?”

“Nah,” Toji drawls. “Grew tired of waiting on ya, so I thought I’d come see how it’s going.”

“It’s going great!” You lie through your teeth. Anyone with a functioning pair of eyes could see how non-great this is going. “Anything else you need?”

“Well it is noon.” He points out.

“And?”

“And my darling wife’s out ‘ere, rolling in the mud when she should be having lunch with me.”

A snort flares in your nostrils. He is unbelievable.

“What a cute way of letting me know you’re hungry, Toji. You know, if you’d actually helped, I would’ve had the time to set the table and give Mister Stinky a proper burial, but I can’t do both at the same time, can I?”

“Mhm, so how ‘bout we help each other?” He suggests, undeterred. “I get your ass out, and you cook us somethin’ tasty real quick.”

“Wh-who said I was stuck? I can get out whenever I want.”

“Really, huh? What keeps ya from getting out this instant, then?”

“I don’t want to.” You answer wryly. “I like it here. It’s quiet, and I could use some time for myself.”

“In the dog house.” His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. He’s not buying an ounce of what you’re selling. “C’mon, don’t be stubborn. You’ll end up reeking of dung if ya stay here a minute longer. Lemme give ya a hand.”

You know that accepting his help comes at the exorbitant price of utter humiliation, but he’s got a point. Last night’s downpour emanates strongly from the saturated wood, a dizzying smell that turns overwhelming when combined with the strong odor of what you sincerely hope is not piss. Your knees are on the verge of collapsing, and there’s more dirt in your nails than if you dug a grave barehanded. Right now, a day in the bathtub seems like a panacea for your every issue.

Almost.

Kissing your teeth, you resign with a long-drawn sigh that’s barely audible over the rumble in your stomach. You shouldn’t have skipped breakfast.

A moment passes before you hear the crunch of leaves as they rustle beneath his feet; see a second pair of knees take place between your own. Then it’s two hands gripping at your hips, and eventually, a face—your husband’s handsome face that beams with a smug smile and eyes of mischief.

“Lookin’ good, sweetheart.” He greets, though you doubt he sees your face with all the hair that’s curtaining over your eyes while you hang upside down.

“What are you doing, Toji?” You recycle his question in an aggravated tone that fizzles out the second you feel his thumb press against your panties and tug the fabric to the side.

“Nothin’. Just curbing my hunger.” His finger teasingly glides across your nether lips and lands at your clit, while a palm large enough to envelope both your ass and cunt kneads at the tender flesh he’s offered. “Fridge’s empty, so.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“‘m not laughing, but c’mon. You hafta admit it’s pretty damn funny.” Warm air wafts from Toji’s mouth as he inches closer to your thighs. “Y’always whine when I fuck you from behind, but now? Look at you. Bent on all four like a real bitch.”

“T-Toji!”

Your breath hitches in your throat as he slides two fingers in your hole, languidly scissoring them in and out until there’s enough slick to lather your clit with. He circles around the nub while his fingers prod deeper inside, the icy touch of his wedding band clashing with the heat that sparks through your body when he bottoms out. A smothered moan gains echo as it bounces off the walls and into his ears.

“Such a well-trained pup,” Toji praises, retrieving his palm to lick his fingers. “Might win yourself a collar at this rate.”

You bite back your tongue before it can react to his backhanded comment, reminding yourself that you’re still outside, right where your neighbors can peek over the white picket fence for a quick hello and catch you slutting yourself out on your husband’s fingers.

“Can’t we continue this inside? Mrs. Honda is right next door, and M-Megumi—” You stutter when his palm returns to your body, its twin joining in spreading your cheeks further apart.

“Kid’s at school for another hour,” Toji mumbles, his hot tongue parting your folds with a long stroke that has your knees buckling. “So fuckin’ good,” he groans, his nose buried between your two holes while he lazily laps at your juices. “That sweet cunt is the reason why I married ya.”

You keen to his touch, hips bucking into his mouth, and walls clenching for more. “Only reason?”

“Nah. Consider that tight little ass as the second.”

His fingers burrow into the supple skin to squeeze at it, only lifting to deliver playful smacks that cause your ass to jiggle against his face. He growls into your pussy, mouthing all sorts of filth that gets drowned by your moans. It feels so good when he eats you out—it always does—but the probability of being caught in such a compromising position adds to the excitement.

The hand that’s trapped with you inside your pet’s house scratches at the wood, while the other rakes at the soil for grounding. Your orgasm creeps up on you, turning your vision blurry and tinting the darkness of space with colored specks. You are so close; all he needs to do is keep swirling at your clit, swallowing the entire bundle of nerves in his mouth, and sucking hard until—

“Ah, right.” He stops, words slurring from the threads of saliva that link his mouth with your cunt. “You said ya wanted time with yourself.”

Anger washes over you in place of the orgasm you were robbed of, the pleasurable fireworks traded for the obnoxious red alarm that goes off in your brain. “Toji, I swear to God, if you don’t fuck me right fucking now, the only lunch you’ll be seeing is KFC buckets for the rest of your life!”

A low chuckle falls flat from his lips. “Three. I love that snappy mouth ‘f yours.”

In an attempt to meet his eyes, you duck between your legs. Your hair mops the floor as you watch him pull down his pants and boxers, the last thing you see before blood shoots up in your head being the hard cock that dangles out of reach. The heat in your stomach stirs at the sight, anticipation building rapidly when you feel him run the reddened tip between your puffy folds.

“Sure you don’t want it here?” Toji taps his cock against your ass hole and your entire body jolts in response, a loud Toji amusing rather than deterring him. “A’right, a’right! Gotcha the first time.”

His profound dream of burying himself nine inches deep into your ass crumbles as he aligns his cock with the entrance of your pussy. You brace yourself, patiently awaiting that initial sting that never goes away; no matter how many times he fucks you or how diligently he preps you, the thickness of his girth always threatens to split you in half.

But now he’s stalling, a complacent smile sitting on his lips while he contemplates your silence. “Bet you’re red as a beet in there, aren’t ya?”

He plunges himself inside before you are given the chance to either prove or disprove him, a silent scream punched from your throat as his cock rams straight into your g-spot. He huffs a deep breath, barely keeping a groan bottled, when he feels your walls tighten around him. It’s suffocating. Wet, and tight—a little similar to what being stuck in that small space feels like for you, but infinitely more pleasurable for him.

"Mm, such a sloppy little cunt. Got yourself stuck in there for this, didn't ya?"

His fingers latch onto your hips, bruising you as his nails dig meanly into your skin. He drags his cock halfway out of your cunt only to snap his hips back in, picking up a pace that ramps up over time. His quick thrusts fuck you further into that hole, your tits bouncing and slapping against the hard wooden planks while your dress rides higher to expose your back.

Toji bends your body into an arch, a heavy palm situated on your stomach until you’re able to hold the position on your own.

“Like it when your husband fucks ya like a bitch?” He grunts, catching the hand that’s squirming on the grass beside him and twisting it behind your back. “Pounded in broad daylight f'everyone to see how dumb you get over my dick, huh?"

Your whimpers don’t go unnoticed by him. He laughs at the high pitch your voice has assumed, babbling his name an incomprehensible amount of times that exceeds the frequency with which his swollen cock head kisses your pulsing core. You can't think enough to reply, and you can't bring yourself to ask him to stop.

He smacks your ass loud enough for you to whine, alerting every last neighbor in the block to what is happening in their quaint suburban neighborhood. “Answer me.”

“Yes, Toji—fuck, love how big it feels.” Your thoughts stem from your pussy without being filtered by your brain. All your body knows is how badly it needs to be pushed over the edge, disregarding the scornful looks you’ll definitely be receiving at the next neighborhood watch assembly.

“That’s not what I asked.” Toji smacks your ass again, softer this time—or so it feels because of your numbing skin. “I asked, Who owns this pussy, mm?”

“That’s not what you asked at all!” Your talking back earns you a third spank. You realize you’ve got no agency of your own.

“Won’t ask again. Who. Owns. This. Pussy?” He punctuates each word with a thrust sharper than the one before, his cock twitching when he hears you screaming your answer at the top of your lungs.

“You do, T-Toji. My pussy is yours—ngh!”

“And who’s bitch are you, baby?”

“Your bitch!” You answer willingly, your mind clouded, and your logic dulled. “Fuck, Toji, you know I’m all yours.”

“Damn right, y’are.” He hums in response, hunching over your body to rub tight circles around your clit, jerking the nub up and down, round and round.

You’re almost there, and when he asks you whether you wanna be bred like one, the tension in your gut finally snaps, eyes involuntary crossing as white waves of pleasure overtake you.

He fucks you through your high at an animalistic pace, the thought of filling your belly with a baby that’s half his and half yours flooding his brain before your answer registers, his cum spilling deep within your pussy with a few sloppy pumps that squelch to the sound of your mixed fluids.

His moans mingle with yours, the rough sound of his voice raising goosebumps from where he kisses your back to the resounding ringing in your ears. He wraps his arms around you almost tenderly, peppering your back with kisses that almost convince you he’ll finally pull you out of that miserable hell hole but that’s not his intention. It never was.

A final smack meets with your ass right before he rolls his pants back up and walks toward the house, undisturbed by the screams that follow close on his trail.

“You said you’d get me out of here!” Your fist hits the ground, finges clenching around a tuft of grass blades that you violently root out.

“And you said you can get out whenever ya want. That you needed time for yourself, ‘member?”

“I didn’t mean that!” You object, your tone too squeaky to be taken seriously. “Toji, you’d better help me or else—”

“Or else what? KFC until I die?” He snorts. “Relax, I’ll come back before Megumi gets ‘ere.” You hear his phone buzzing as he—presumably—punches something in his search bar. Hot wings don’t sound too bad; he whispers for himself to hear, speaking up only when he asks you if you want him to order you a twister wrap or something before he closes his order.

a/n: the episode excited me too much, apologies. i was gonna post this later asdfghjkl but toji is back and we cum.

[oliver-quick-ens-my-pulse]

A Bad Idea

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader

Summary - Request by anon for "Would you please write a scenario where Ominis has a secret crush on female MC and accidentally drinks a lust potion. Horny Ominis ensues 😏

Word Count - 2,018

Warnings - 18+ smut, slight degradation, oral sex

A/N - I know this isn't exactly 'accidental' but it's hard coming up with so many reasons for different stories as to why they took the potion

"Sebastian, I've told you this is such a ridiculous idea."

"Come on, admit it, you're just scared." Sebastian teased his friend before placing a mug in his hand. "We're not the only ones doing it! There are guys from other houses doing it as well. Of course, Garreth is doing it since it's his idea. Come on, bottoms up."

Ominis sighed deeply before feeling Sebastian tip his mug from the bottom and forced him to drink the concoction. Garreth had some grand idea to create a lust potion and force it upon an entire group of them. He saw it as some kind of challenge to see how long the lads could stand it before taking care of business.

Ominis wanted no part of it, but somehow Sebastian had talked him into it. He thought that he may have an advantage since he had one less sense that could lead him down the road of temptation.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," the blond coughed at the taste of the potion before jabbing the mug into Sebastian's hands.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other things to do with my day."

Omins made a move to turn away and exit the common room, but Sebastian put a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Actually, my friend, I believe Y/N was coming up to see you." Sebastian's tone was smug and Ominis knew right away he had been set up for his own embarrassment.

He could already feel the tips of his ears getting hot just thinking about you. He had trusted Sebastian to keep his feelings safe and clearly, he had no such plan of doing that.

"You bastard. At least get out, spare me from having you as a witness to me making a fool of myself." He crossed his arms just as you came bounding into the room, calling his name.

Sebastian muttered a half-hearted goodbye before slipping past the two of you and right out the door. You gave him an odd look as he started laughing on his way out before you moved to stand in front of Ominis.

"Is something going? I feel like there's something I'm missing here. Sebastian told me you needed my help with something." When you said that Ominis immediately had thoughts he could not control. He imagined the smooth skin of your thighs as he spread them apart, digging into them with his fingers. He imagined your breathy voice telling him you need him and the moans that followed when he obliged.

He shifted nervously before taking a seat on the couch nearest to you both. He did his best to sit near to the edge, hoping to keep some distance between you both.

"Well, I'm afraid Sebastian is mistaken. I would love for you to keep me company though." He flashed you a smile and tried to steady his breathing. He knew he was playing a dangerous game with himself. He could feel his cock stiffening beneath his robes. Every word you spoke. Every waft of your scent that drifted his way; it all just fueled his fantasies. He was somewhat surprised at how fast the potion had an effect on him.

You eyed him suspiciously before taking a seat beside him as you usually would. Your hip and leg were pressed up against him as you sat near him, leaning over to examine him. He used every ounce of willpower he had to contain a moan from the subtle contact.

"Ominis is something wrong? You look as if you're about to explode. You can talk to me even if you don't think I can help."

He turned towards you, placing an unsuspecting hand on your thigh. He thought that maybe if he just tip-toed around the line and kept close to you like normal it would be enough to quench the ache he was feeling between his legs.

"It's really nothing. You know how Sebastian is. He's just been stirring trouble up all day and I'm fed up with him," he huffed. His anger and annoyance were very real at that moment. You reciprocated his affections by leaning your head against his shoulders with a sigh, "I'm sorry that you had to be his victim for today."

You were extremely aware of his hand that wasn't too far away from your own heat. You had mastered keeping a straight face when he reached out for you, but internally you were on fire thinking about what would happen if his fingers were to slip beneath the fabric.

You put your own hand on his knee as you sat with him in comfortable silence. You had just closed your eyes when you noticed his fingers tapping impatiently against you. His own leg had begun a steady rhythm up and down as well. You took notice of how unlike him this was before determining how to respond. You glided your hand up his leg in a calming gesture, but you froze when you heard a groan fall from his mouth. Your breathing was becoming harder to control as you realized what exactly your hand had stumbled upon.

He was painfully hard inside of his trousers. You had inadvertently just given him one big stroke. To his credit, his cock felt much bigger and thicker than you would have guessed. Certainly different from how you had always pictured it.

"O-Ominis," you stuttered, "I — I didn't mean to —"

When you tried to pull your hand away he clamped his free hand over the top of yours. He lulled his head towards you and you could see how flushed he'd become. You could see the detail in his eyes and the way his glossy pupils had become enlarged.

"Please," his voice was low and filled with arousal. The sound went straight to your core.

"I — Sebastian...Garreth made this stupid potion and I —"

"Oh." you cut him off before he could finish. You had heard Garreth talking about his experiments earlier in the day and thought them to be completely insane. Why would all the boys just want to make themselves incredibly horny to be around one another for the rest of the day? "I heard about that. I just didn't think...I didn't think you would be one of the people to take it."

You gave his cock a squeeze, running your hand down the length once more and he thrust his hips towards your touch. He felt like he was in heaven like this must be a dream, it couldn't be real. "But I...I don't mind helping you out." You gingerly took his hand that was on your thigh and guided it to the thin cotton of your undergarments, shamelessly letting him feel the wetness that had leaked through the material.

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm not sure...not sure I can let you do this. I don't feel like myself and I might be a little rough." His brain was screaming at him as he tried to give you an escape. He was practically drooling when he felt your slick with his fingers, pressing firmly against your heat, but he didn't want you to feel obligated to help him with his predicament.

You spared a brief glance at the common room entrance before you moved off of the couch and onto your knees on the floor. You situated yourself between his legs, carefully pushing them open further.

Small whimpers escaped his mouth as he felt the heat of your body between his legs. Although the initial loss of contact had him frustrated, he was now in disbelief at what it seemed you were about to do. You raised your hands to unfasten the top of his pants while you gazed up at him.

He placed a hand over yours, to give you one more chance, "Y/N," his voice was gravelly, "I'm telling you I can't think straight. I can't be delicate with your pretty mouth. I need it too fucking badly." His voice had evolved into nearly a growl, but you brushed his hand away and prompted him to lift himself up and let you pull down his trousers.

You took his underwear down with them and his cock sprang up in front of you. His head was dripping and you looked at it in awe of the size and all the beauty marks that were placed so perfectly.

He dragged his hand up your arm and then up the back of your neck, grabbing at the hair that was at the base of your skull. He pulled you forward, pressing your cheek up against his length.

He gave you enough leeway to adjust yourself and swirl your tongue over his wet tip. He tugged harder at your head, forcing your mouth over him and causing you to gag slightly from the sudden intrusion.

"Agh, Y/N, you feel so fuckin' good. More, please. I won't ask twice."

You steadied braced your hands against his thighs and made sure to look up at him. His lustful expression was all the motivation you needed. You stuck your tongue out against his cock and slowly stretched your mouth over it to take as much as possible.

Tears pricked at your eyes when he undulated his hips and forced as much as possible down your throat. "Your mouth is so perfect and tight, please, I'm not going to last very long." You began bobbing your head up and down, trying to take more with each attempt, but he was so thick. Even the added help from his pre-cum wasn't enough to make it all possible. You dug your nails into his thighs and he lost himself in your touch.

He started fucking your mouth relentlessly, getting off to the sound of your muffled choking and thinking about how soaked you probably were from doing something so lewd. And in the middle of the common room no less. "Nngh, what would Sebastian think if he walked in on you right now? F-fuck d'you think he and Garreth would try to get in line for you? After seeing you're such a slut?"

Filthy moans rolled off his lips, a light sheen of sweat making his pale skin glow as he assaulted your mouth and talked down to you.

"It's too bad because you're mine. They can watch all they want, but — agh — Y/N, your slutty mouth is mine. I'm so close, I'm close — "

He forced the full length of his cock into your mouth and let out a guttural cry. You had no choice but to swallow his hot seed as it fell down the back of your throat.

"Yes, swallow it, all of it," he panted and he released some of the tight grip he had on you. He instead rested his palm against your hair, stroking you softly. Once you're sure he's been sucked dry you take him out of your mouth and rest your head against his leg, struggling to catch your breath.

You're somewhat thankful he can't see the drool that's run down your chin and over the top of your blouse. "Oh, Y/N," he sounded more like himself now, not plagued only with thoughts of defiling you. He moved to tuck himself back into his pants before leaning forward to pull you back up to seat you on the couch.

"That's not exactly how I wanted this to happen for the first time, but you felt so good. You were amazing." He cupped your face and used a thumb to swipe across your lips, "Are you alright?"

You nodded as you curled against his chest, "Yes, Sebastian was right to come and get me for this task don't you think?" You laughed softly together as he wrapped an arm around you.

"Yes, I — I would not have sought out anyone except you. I hope you know I want more from you than that." He tilted his head so you could see the sincerity on his face, "I like you quite a lot. Perhaps we can make other plans together that don't just include these activities."

[ajokeformur-ray]

The breeze seems to whisper 'I love you' // Astarion x gn!reader / Tav

This is my first Astarion fic so I really hope I bring him justice; he deserves that and everything else which is good in life. It took me three days in total to fall head over heels for him, and this piece is dedicated to @ace-tarion for being such a sweetheart in this, as in everything. I love you, dude!❤️

I haven't played BG3, I know maybe 80% of the plot (tadpoles in brain = bad = travel to Baldur's Gate), I've watched a ton of Astarion clips, so apologies for any inaccuracies or inconsistencies. I'm just here for Astarion (though I'd love to play BG3, I don't have any technology capable of running it💔).

Content: You/Tav x Astarion (established relationship), canonical past for Astarion is hinted at and laced within narrative, cuddles, animals referred to as 'snacks' within mentions of Astarion (only a mention; no actual description of animal-feeding/mentions of anything pertaining to animals being fed on).

Summary: Night-time falls, your heart sinks into your stomach as surely as your body sinks into your bedroll, and you want cuddles from Astarion.

Word count: 1, 624.

I am accepting requests for Astarion ❤️ no smut and no pregnancy/birth/kids!!

You lay on the cold, hard ground. The earth is unforgiving, soaking up the day's sweat without offering any kind of reprieve. Stones and hard clumps of dirt dig into your back through the bedroll, the wind is slightly too cold and it penetrates your thin blanket, haphazardly thrown over you in an attempt to ward off the elements.

Everyone has a tent, except you, and you make it a point to lay as close to the fire as you can on the nights Astarion is out hunting; it wouldn't do to help yourself to his tent. He keeps his tent away from the others, though still adhering to the semi-circle layout chosen by the others around the campfire. He would not mind you letting yourself in to his tent, he would likely welcome returning to you there, and yet you cannot justify it even to yourself.

After two hundred years of shit, pure shit, he deserves every ounce of privacy and the security of knowing his tent is his own.

You sit up just enough to shuffle yourself closer to the fire, curling inwards as a shiver wracks your body. It isn't cold, necessarily, but your temperature is not conducive to a restful sleep. You lay on your back, gazing up at the stars which punctuate the sky, breaking up the inky black and blues with pinpricks of white, yellow, and some dull spots of grey from the stars which died many eons ago and are now fading from the sky.

You promise yourself you'll try to remember their placement in the sky.

Despite the best of intentions, you know that you won't.

Your vision goes blurry at the edges as you continue staring up at the night sky, looking for any constellations you recognise by way of finding yourself a bedtime story to recount as you try to fall asleep. The leaves on the trees sway gently in the breeze, and your mind wanders, as it so often does, to Astarion. Your sweet vampire, who simultaneously breaks your heart and put it back together in the same moment every time you uncover more of who he is, more of his past.

Oh, but you love him.

Of its own accord does your body take a long, deep breath in, your heart sinking into your stomach as surely as your body melts into the bedroll. All of your thoughts of Astarion and all of your feelings for him are safe inside yourself, and they serve you now in warming you from the inside out.

Your eyes slide closed, and if you press your forehead closer into your blanket, you can almost tell yourself that you can feel Astarion lying down beside you, you can smell bergamot and feel his silver hair tickle your cheeks, you can feel his fingers intertwined with yours, your legs tangled together, his crimson eyes upon your face so intently fixed like he's scared to blink in case you disappear before his eyes, leaving him clutching only the cold night air, his equally cold body pressed against every line of yours...

You smile to yourself and burrow deeper into your blanket, feeling sleepier, warmer and closer to your rest by the second. Thoughts of Astarion flood your mind and you curl up tighter, as if to keep all these thoughts right where they are. You know if you open your eyes that you'll be alone; you know not where Astarion is this night, but you know he is trying to sate his hunger with the snacks which live in the forest.

So you keep your eyes shut.

As you allow yourself to slip further into your threshold consciousness, you wonder what Astarion would say to you if he returned at this very moment...

"Hello, sweet. Gods, you are beautiful."

You smile again and squeeze your blanket ever tighter to you. Yes, he would probably say something like -

Wait.

Wait.

Was that - ?

With great caution do you open your eyes, ready to slam them shut again once you see that Astarion isn't there, that he didn't just speak to you. But instead of the cold hard truth slamming into you, flowers bloom in your heart because Astarion is here, looming over you, his silver curls seeming to be glowing in the soft moonlight. His crimson eyes seem black, his charming smirk soft at the edges as he gazes down at you with obvious fondness, vulnerable such as it is.

Of all the stars above me, this one's the prettiest, you think to yourself, and you open your eyes wider to better enjoy the view.

Astarion's smirk melts until it becomes a smile as he kneels down beside you, one of his arms reaching out to brush a leaf away from your face. His fingers ghost across your skin, and you shiver. "Thank you, darling. I know I'm beautiful. Not enough people mention it." His joke fades into vulnerability, as it so often does around you.

But it is no matter. You always meet him where he is, and right now it is no exception.

You smile at Astarion, all of the love for him shining in your eyes until they look like molten galaxies, and he swears he feels his heart, which stopped working centuries ago, skip a beat. You are unguarded where you lay in your threshold consciousness, not embarrassed to have spoke aloud your thoughts, and Astarion wonders if the old saying, that love makes fools of people, is true. You lay at the foot of a vampire, at the foot of a predator, smiling at him, physically and emotionally vulnerable, completely unguarded. Most others at the camp are asleep, Astarion can hear, and yet here you are...

Wait. Why are you awake?

"Darling," Astarion's voice is a hush and you strain your ears to be able to hear him. He bends closer to you to accommodate, anticipating your needs before you fully register them yourself, "Why aren't you sleeping? No harm shall befall you when I'm here." Long ago, he had sought your protection, but now he wanted you both to be safe. If this is how the mighty fall, then Astarion must admit that he is happy he lost his balance. He quite likes the view from down here.

You shake your head and shuffle closer still, unable to get close enough to your most beloved vampire. "Can't sleep without you." I just want to be held.

Oh, help him, but this is devastating in its simplicity. His undead heart bleeds and words have brought Astarion to the point where they run dry. Instead, he stands, and reaches a hand out to you. The message is clear - he wants you to accompany him to his tent, he wants to carve a piece of heaven out with you amongst all the chaos unleashed, he wants to hold and to be held.

Astarion just wants you, and who are you to deny him?

One of your hands slips into his while the other pulls the blanket away from you and Astarion's smile widens as he effortlessly pulls you up to stand beside him. You bend to scoop up your bedroll, and follow Astarion into your tent. The door flap flutters in the wind as Astarion releases it, and it settles in place like a butterfly finding a flower.

You find yourselves easily, your bedroll dumped next to Astarion's, pushed up close until his bedroll becomes a double. It's a well established routine for the two of you, with you spending more nights here than you don't. You never enter his tent if he isn't here, and you certainly never come in without his permission. One day, Astarion will find the words to convey his appreciation for your concern, but until then, he will remind you at every chance he finds that you are always welcome. He finds it greatly ironic that you seek permission to enter space and he, a vampire, does not. He knows he is welcome, wanted, cherished, loved.

It took some work for the both of you to get here, but his months with you are the counterweight to the hell he escaped from.

He'll never be able to thank you enough, he has no idea what he is doing, but perhaps this is a start.

Somehow, through the fuzziness of denied sleep, you end up back in bed, your blanket around you and Astarion's still chest under your head. He lays beneath you like he is patiently waiting for you to make yourself comfortable, and you take the opportunity to wind both of your arms around his waist and squeeze, pulling yourself up just enough to be able to bury your face in his neck. One of your legs slips between his, anchoring the two of you together.

Slowly, like he's afraid to move too quickly in case you disappear within his grasp and leave Astarion holding nothing but the cold empty night air, his hands settle upon your back and a sigh which seems to come from deep within him spells peace for the both of you. "This is nice," Astarion's voice rumbles through your ear and you press yourself ever closer to him, unable to get close enough. Your arms constrict around him again and you feel yourself smile as all those sleepy dreams you were having earlier are now here, beneath you, wrapped around you. As you hold on tighter, so too does Astarion, until the two of you are so completely intertwined that the elements cannot reach you. He has no body temperature and yet you are the comfiest and the warmest you have ever been.

Safe.

This time, Astarion doesn't tell you that you accidentally spoke your thoughts aloud.

[cevansbrat0007]

What's Eating You, Mr. Barber?

Summary: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to check out Ari Levinson's reaction to the same prompt.

Warnings: Mature Themes, References to Smut, Andrew Barber Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, TikTok Hijinks, Bickering, Manhandling, Ass Slapping, Daddy Kink, Allusions to Oral Sex, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt brought to you courtesy of a Reader Request. This fic features Andrew Barber from my Growing Pains Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It’s hard for you to put into words just how much you love playing pranks on your unsuspecting husband. And after downloading TikTok, you’d discovered that the app was home to an online treasure trove of practical jokes designed to make your loved one’s head spin. While it had taken a few days for you to settle on the right prank, you were pretty confident that the one you’d chosen would earn you a fun reaction from Andy without you having to risk your ass in the process. 

You find yourself grinning as you take your time prepping dinner, humming a little tune as you peel and press even more fresh garlic for your homemade tomato sauce. Tonight’s family dinner of spaghetti and meatballs promised to be very interesting. Which was why you’d also taken the liberty of setting up two hidden cameras – one in the dining room and one right here in your kitchen. 

As of now, you had no plans to post this on your channel. But you also didn’t want to miss a minute of your man’s reaction. Until then all you had to do was play it cool for a couple more hours.

Later that Evening…

“Baby Girl, are you sure you don’t need any help?” Your husband asks after watching you make what easily had to be your third trip from the kitchen into the dining room. 

Any other night you would’ve said yes, but not this one. Tonight you were flying solo. The cameras were already on and recording – you’d taken care of that before you’d started setting the table – and so far Andy hadn’t noticed a thing.

Hopefully you’d be able to keep it that way until it was time for the big reveal. 

“No thanks, Big Man. This Mama only has to make one more trip and then we’ll be ready to eat.”  You tell him before sitting two plates on the table in front of your two youngest children. You were down a kid tonight thanks to your oldest, Bianca, being away at a sleepover.  

Andy nods before leaning over to adjust the small hand towel you’d previously tucked into the front of your three-year-old son’s t-shirt. Not that it really mattered all that much since you were positive he’d be swimming in sauce before the meal was over. But what kind of mother would you be if you didn’t at least try?

Biting your lip in anticipation, you scamper back into the kitchen to grab dinner for you and your husband. Andy’s plate was piled high with a generous serving of spaghetti and meatballs. Meanwhile, you give yourself hardly any. 

And therein was the so-called prank. Earlier this week, you’d spent the better part of several hours gleefully watching as dozens of girlfriends and wives proceeded to serve their man impressive looking portions before sitting next to them with virtually empty plates for themselves. Many of the reactions had ranged from hilarious to heartwarming, with only a few dickish exceptions. 

Glancing over your shoulder to ensure you weren’t being watched, you pick up various pans and quietly place them in your oven and out of sight. For this to actually work, Andy would have to believe that there wasn’t enough for seconds or leftovers. Once that’s done, you square your shoulders and confidently march back into the dining room with dishes in hand. 

“I’m back.” You announce, placing a piping hot plate in front of Andy before taking your own seat at the table. “I tried something different with my sauce this time, so everybody dig in and tell me what you think.” 

Andy absentmindedly rubs his palms together as he stares down at the fragrant heap of spaghetti before him. Silently, you will him to look over at what you’d served yourself, but you force yourself to remain quiet so as not to give yourself away. 

“This smells amazing, sweetheart.” Your husband tells you, reaching for a piece of garlic bread. “I’ve been excited for this meal since you told me you texted me at 10:00am.”

“Glad to hear it, Daddy” You pick up the little bowl of parmesan you’d set out and hand it to your middle daughter, Katrina. “What does everybody else think?”

You take a brief glance around the table while you wait for feedback. And although you make a point of not looking at your husband, it’s impossible to miss the way he’s now staring at your nearly empty plate.

“Ooh.” You inwardly squeal, stopping just short of clapping your hands. “It’s starting!” 

“What’s up with this?” His tone is rife with confusion, which only grows when you decide to ignore him in favor of dipping a small piece of bread into some sauce. “Hey – stop!”

“What?” When you finally deign to return his gaze. You have to choke back a laugh as you watch a bewildered Andy comically gesture between your two plates.

“What the fu–fudge,” he swiftly corrects, “is going on with your plate?”

“What do you mean?” You aim to keep your tone light and breezy.

Your husband lets out a frustrated sigh. “Where’s the rest of your food?” He jabs at your plate with his fork, holding up the half of a meatball you’d allowed yourself.

“This was all that was left.” You tell him with a shrug.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His confusion continues to mount even as pauses long enough to grab a napkin to wipe at his son’s increasingly messy fingers. “There was plenty of spaghetti left on the stove.” While he’s occupied you quickly check on little Rory, who appears to be faring slightly better.

“Not really.” 

“Baby…” Andy pins you with a knowing look, one that you readily return.

“What? I…” You trail off, pretending to think. “After I realized BiBi wouldn’t be here tonight, I made some adjustments to the recipe. Turns out I didn’t make enough, so…” Another shrug. “This was all there was after I made everyone else’s plates.” 

Andy is uncharacteristically quiet as leans back in his chair. Meanwhile, your children are busy staring at you, each of them sporting tiny, furrowed brows. Pursing your lips, you set your fork down on your plate and reach for your drink. 

“You can have some of mine, Mama.” KitCat offers before sweetly pushing her plate towards you. The unexpected gesture touches your heart in more ways than one. Not to be outdone, your three-year-old twins also follow suit. 

“That’s okay, babies. I’m perfectly fine.” You reassure them, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Besides, this is all I need and –”

“Thanks kiddos.” Your husband kindly interrupts as he places his napkin on the table. “That was very sweet of you, wanting to take care of your Mama like that.” His brilliant blue eyes beam with pride as he speaks. “But Daddy’s got this one.” 

You’re momentarily taken aback when he stands, picking up his plate as he does. And you’re even more surprised when he motions for you to do the same.

“Can I see you in the kitchen for a moment?”

“Andrew, sweetheart, it’s okay. I promise.”

“Now, please.” It’s an order, that much you know. But at least your handsome ogre has enough sense to take on the word “please” at the end of it.      

“Fine.” You huff before standing and following him out of the room, although not before encouraging your children to keep eating while you’re gone. Just because it was Friday doesn’t mean it was time to dispense their normal bedtime routines.

You were only playing a prank, not embracing total anarchy. 

Once in the kitchen, you each take up residence in opposing corners. But of course, you’re careful enough to avoid blocking the view of the camera. 

“Baby Girl.” Andy exhales, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Do you really mean to tell me that there’s no food left? You really made all that pasta and there’s nothing?”

“Yes, Andrew.” You lie without missing a beat. “I already told you. I trimmed down the recipe because –”

“Because Bianca is gone. Yes, I heard you.” He sets his dish down on the counter, openly scrutinizing it. 

“So then what’s the problem?” You rest your back against your pantry while you wait for him to respond. 

“The problem – my problem –” Andy is quick to amend, shaking his head. “– is that you expect me to sit back and watch you starve while everyone else eats. And I don’t like it.” He scrubs a weary hand over his beard. “Hand me your plate, beautiful.”

“Why?” It’s impossible to keep the suspicion out of your voice. 

“Because I don’t need all of this.” He grunts, taking the plate out of your hands when you don’t comply fast enough. “In fact, I don’t need any of it. You eat and I’ll order myself a pizza after we put the kids down.”

“Andy!” You scoff, which comes out on the heels of a laugh. 

“What?” The man is clearly confused by your dismissal of his offer. “I am capable of handling myself, okay? My hands work just fine.” He grates out, making a show of holding up a large, lightly calloused palm.

“But I…I made that plate for you.” You were seconds away from caving and you both knew it. 

“And I’m telling you, my wonderful wife, that I want you to have it.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to –” You begin, wrapping your arms around yourself. It was time to fess up.

“Fine.” Andy breathes, taking a second to roll his broad shoulders. “Then we’ll split it.” He reaches for your hand, pulling you into his warm embrace so that he can whisper in your ear. “And then, after we put the kids down, we’ll order ourselves a pizza. Maybe open up a bottle of wine while we wait.”

“Yeah?” You murmur, relaxing as you bury your face in his chest. 

God, he always smelled so good.  

“Mhm.” He continues, nuzzling his nose against your curls. “And then, once we’re all giggly and buzzed, I’ll convince you to let me make love to you in front of the fireplace. We can even set up a booby trap so that we pretend like the children don’t exist.”

“Wow.” You can’t stop the giggle that bubbles its way past your lps. “Andy Bear, that sounds amazing. But I’m afraid I can’t.”

“Why the fuck not?” He rumbles as his brawny arms tighten around your smaller frame. You were pushing your District Attorney beyond his breaking point.

“Because.” Squirming out of his hold, you dance your way towards the oven in preparation for the big reveal. Hopefully your husband would be a good sport about all of this.

“Because?” 

“Because…” You draw out the word, even as you go to open the oven to show him what’s inside. “There’s actually plenty of dinner leftover. See?” You throw your arms wide, but force yourself to stop just short of adding spirit fingers because you suspected he wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Baby, I swear…” Andy sighs, his hands slowly sinking into the pockets of his charcoal-colored slacks as he rocks back on his heels. Most likely to keep himself from strangling you, his lovely wife. “Why–what would possess you to lie about something like this?”

“First off, sweetheart, it’s called a prank.” You bridge the gap between your bodies so that you can wrap your arms around his trim waist. “And secondly, I saw it on TikTok. Ever heard of it?” 

He glares down at you, which has you instinctively clenching your thighs together. That’s part of the reason you loved riling up your Big Man.

Being a brat got your motor running. 

“I take it you have.” You stand on your tiptoes to kiss away his frown. “Well, I fell down the rabbit hole the other day while the kids were napping. There’s this whole, like, subsection that’s just pranks. And the latest one involved these women pranking their guys by serving them a huge plate of food, and then pretending like there’s nothing left for them to eat. The reactions were super entertaining, so I figured I’d test it out, you know? Just for fun.”

You grace him with your most dazzling smile, but unfortunately, he’s still having none of it. His frown only deepens as he tilts his face up towards the ceiling in an effort to summon all of his remaining patience. 

“Are you mad?” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip while you wait for his answer.

“Yep.”

“C’mon, Andy Bear!” You pout before placing your hands on his biceps to give him a light shake.”Where’s your sense of humor?”

“Pretty sure I lost it the day you decided torturing me was your new favorite pastime.” He grumbles, although there doesn’t appear to be any heat in his words. “In fact, I have a feeling you just gave me several new grays.”

“Oh, don’t you dare blame me for those.” You tell him, playfully rolling your eyes at his dramatics. “I’ll have you know that you came home with those. I spotted ‘em the moment you walked through the door.” Your sassy response earns you a sharp crack to your ass, making you wince.

“Ow!” 

“Brat.” He grouses, even as he presses a sweet kiss to your nose. 

“Guilty as charged.” You hum, weaving your arms around his neck. “Besides, I had a feeling you wouldn’t let me starve.”

“Not sure it’s even possible to fail that challenge, Baby Girl. I mean, you’re my wife. My partner in crime. Did you really expect me to just let you go hungry?”

“You’d be surprised.” You mutter, making a mental note to show him a few videos featuring some of the men who’d actually failed the test. “But thankfully you didn’t. And neither did the kiddos. Which is why I will graciously allow you all to sleep inside tonight.”

You let out a tiny yelp when Andy suddenly grabs your ass with both hands, squeezing hard as he lifts you up. Unsure of what else to do, you immediately lock your legs around his waist. Right now you were just going along for the ride.  

“Now is that any way to talk to Daddy?” Andy lovingly captures your mouth, lightly stroking his along the seam of your lips. “Especially after you played such a mean trick?” His once clouded blue eyes are now filled with mischief. 

“Oh, I’m not sorry. But if it helps, I am willing to delete the video.” Your husband’s eyes go wide, letting you know that he hadn’t even considered the prospect of being recorded. So you keep talking, hoping to distract him. “And I still wanna get you drunk and take advantage of you after we put the children down for the night.” You run your fingers through his neatly coiffed hair, lightly scratching at his scalp with your nail.

“I don’t know if I should trust you.” He eyes you warily, making clear that he still hasn’t quite recovered from your earlier betrayal. 

“What if…” You lean in close, lightly nipping at his earlobe. “I could find it in my heart to apologize between then and now? How does that sound, Big Man?”

“I mean I might be interested.” Andy shrugs, gently setting you on the counter before bracing his muscled arms on either side of you. “Out of curiosity, just what kind of apology are we talking about?” He gazes at you with lust-filled eyes, eagerly anticipating your response.

“The kind that’s best offered while on my knees, wearing nothing but a flimsy pair of thigh highs and garters.” You know you’ve got him when you hear him groan low in his throat.  

“Fucky, baby.” Your husband hisses, burying his face in the valley between your breasts as his imagination suddenly kicks into overdrive. “Can you be sorry enough to wear the heels too? You know the ones I’m talking about.”

Oh. You knew exactly which ones he was talking about.

“I think so.” You murmur, stroking a tender hand along his back as he struggles to regain his composure.   

“Then we’ve got ourselves a deal.” He grips your hips before kindly helping you down. “Now let’s go get those kids fed and off to bed.” Andy grabs your hand, tugging you behind him as you head back to the dining room to see about your babies. 

“Slow down, Andrew.” You laugh as your legs scramble to keep up. 

“No can do, Baby Girl.” He grunts, picking up his pace. “Daddy’s really looking forward to that apology. So be sure to eat up because…” He trails off when he comes face-to-face with his sauce covered little ones. “...You’re gonna need all of your strength.”

“You can count on it.”

END

[shawnxstyles]

naked

DATE: JANUARY 8, 2023

summary: nathan drake was a tease to say the least. you couldn’t focus on work or chores with his constant sex appeal surrounding you. but a completely naked and nonchalant nathan drake, was an even bigger one.

request: please read the request as an additional summary!

words: 3.2k

warnings: SMUT (implied consent, praise kink, playful spanking and exhibitionism if you squint, dirty talk [slight degradation kink], kind of breeding kink, and unprotected sex) language, and very fluffy at the end :)

note: first nathan fic… this was supposed to be just smut, but i made the ending really fluffy and cute 😌 (the amount of times i’ve watched this gif is unholy)

—

Nathan Drake would be the death of you.

He was charming, with a hint of cockiness to always keep you on your toes. His smile lit up every room he waltzed in, which you hated to admit made your heart flutter.

During the many dangerous attempts at trying to find the forbidden gold, you two really connected. For the first few missions, you were always on high-alert as your trust balanced on a fine line. He could’ve ditched you at any minute and left you stranded to fend for yourself. But Nathan wasn’t like that. He stuck by your side and saved your life more than you could ever thank him enough for.

Yes, he’s lied and undergone deception, but it was all for the greater good. You were his greater good. If he never finds the gold, he knows that he hit the jackpot with you. Even if you didn’t know it.

Taking that next step in your relationship was the best idea you both have ever had. You loved Nathan for all that he was— except for one thing; a teaser. Nathan Drake was the biggest teaser ever.

A shirtless Nate strides around arrogantly nearly every day, making you swallow thickly when you gaze at his body a little too long. Sometimes, he’ll flex on purpose while you’re trying to focus on work. Or he’ll be handsy while doing day-to-day chores.

Nate loved that he had such a grasp on you. Today, he used that to his advantage.

He steps out of the steaming shower, barely dried with a towel around his waist. He doesn’t try to secure it as he walks out into the lounge area where you’re reading on the couch with a mug in hand.

You take a glimpse at him when he comes into frame and nearly choke on your coffee. You’ve seen his body countless times, but the sight will never fail to amaze you. Water droplets drip over his chiseled abs, sinking down his V-line and absorbing in his towel. He licks his bottom lip in amusement at your stare, waltzing past you and into the kitchen.

You roll your eyes and resume back to your reading that was nowhere near as interesting as Nathan’s body. You bet you could study an entire course about his structure, and you would excel with an A+. But that would be cheating because you knew his body like the back of your hand.

You knew that he loved to have his back scratched, nails digging into his skin until crescent moon marks appeared. He loved when you moaned his name, specifically screaming it. And Nathan loved when you fawned over his body. His body full of muscle was a temple you worshiped when he had his way with you. You loved praising him because everything you said was true.

Your mind flashes back to last night and all the previous nights where he fucked you into oblivion. You wished it was always that easy to have sex with him, but he always had to make it difficult to get what you wanted.

Typical Nathan.

Once your coffee jolts your system awake, you decide to do a bit of cleaning to get your mind out of the gutter. You call Nathan over to help you with the dishwasher, hoping he’s clothed. When he comes back into the kitchen, however, he’s still not dressed, even though it’s been hours since he took a shower. Actually, he’s less dressed than earlier. He’s wearing nothing but his birthday suit when he smiles at you softly, charm and fake-innocence floating around him.

Bastard.

You try not to avert your eyes down to his prominent member, knowing it will inflate his already massive ego if you stutter your words.

“I need you to help me with the dishes,” You state curtly, jaw slacking while you glare directly into his brown orbs. They’re filled with mischief and lust, positive he’s at least semi-hard. “You wash.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Nathan’s cheeks crinkle into a toothy smile, walking over to you. His hands cradle your face before he gives you a tender kiss on your forehead. Your clit throbs in time with the rapid beating of your heart. Arousal drips subtly from your cunt and into your panties.

He knows how much you love forehead kisses. God damn him.

He gets started on the dishes, handing you the cleaned items quickly. You bend down to slot them into their places in the washer, falling behind his quick pace. Once he finishes, he smirks at your position; bent over and vulnerable in a thin pair of cotton shorts. His cock pulsates at the view of your curves as you focus on the task in front of you. It was almost too easy.

“Need help, baby?” Nathan’s hands slide over your waist as his body hovers behind you. You inhale sharply at the feeling of him so close to you, causing you to freeze in place. He drags his palms to your hips, caressing the clothed skin teasingly. His thumbs are rubbing the top of your ass, wishing he would spread you open already. You bit your tongue before deciding that you can play this game too.

“I’m good,” After slotting a plate, you raise up and grab another. You purposely lean back into him, causing your ass to grind against his bare cock. Nathan is thick and solid, at his full size now that he’s fully hard. You try not to be affected by the tiny touch. He quietly hisses under his breath and you smirk as you move yourself in triumph. His fingers never leave your hips.

“You’re paying for that,” He squeezes your supple curves warningly and then lightly slaps your ass before waltzing away. You gasp, nearly dropping the plate. The dishes are disorganized and dislocated when you finish, too distracted by the Greek God strolling around the house.

—

Nathan didn’t stop there. He continued to help with house chores while being completely naked. He got handsy and he teased you to the brim. If you tried to reach for something up high, he would lift you by your hips and then slide his hands up your body when bringing you down. His minimal actions made you weak, but left you wanting more every time he walked away.

You took a deep breath before joining your zoom meeting. Even when Nathan was intervening in your thoughts, you still had work to do.

Nathan glances at your crinkled eyebrows as you concentrate on your computer screen. A monotone voice gives instructions while you nod along to his words. Nate loved watching you work. Your hard working ethic, determination, and intelligence were some of his favorite qualities about you. The head of his cock ticks when you bite your lip subconsciously in solid focus.

It was also one of his turn-ons.

He strides over to you as you type swiftly on your keyboard. When you notice him, you roll your eyes at his nude appearance, continuing to type away. He sits beside you, glaring.

“What do you want, Nate?” You ask through clenched teeth. You can’t help but peer down at his struggling member, rosy head with dabbles of pre-cum leaking from it. If he wasn’t such a tease, you would get on your knees and suck him dry.

“Nothing. You know, I love watching you work. You look so sophisticated and smart,” Nathan compliments as his hand wanders toward your thighs. He massages them, your breath getting caught in your throat. Nate knew you loved being complimented, but especially when it had to do with your intelligence. He is ticking every box today.

He slides his fingers up until they’re touching your aching, clothed cunt. Your clit pulses sporadically, legs tensing when his fingers brush over it.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Nathan taunts with a devilish smile. Nate’s thumb pets your clit through your shorts, making you moan softly. You disregard your zoom meeting, your camera and microphone already off. Spreading your legs wider, he doesn’t speed up or stop, continuing to torture you by giving you little to nothing. “Are you all wet?”

You answer in a shuddery moan, focusing on the small touch. You’ve been so horny all day, even this is getting you off. Fists balling on the keyboard, his fingers brush the folds of your cunt, still covered by your shorts and panties. You gasp when he presses two fingers where your hole is as you clench around nothing but your own walls. Sliding your shorts down, he reveals your soaked panties, tsking at the sight. He yanks them down and off your legs. Being the dirty man he is, Nathan spits into his hand and wraps the fabric around his cock, stroking deliberately. Your own hand shoots straight to your clit and fondles it, desperate to be touched by him.

“Y/N, are you there? The meeting is over,” Your boss informs with a clipped tone. Your eyes drift to the forgotten screen, widening when you remember you’re still in the call.

“Don’t stop,” Nate demands through gritted teeth, powerful eyes piercing yours. Trembling, you continue to rub your clit as you unmute yourself.

“Y-yeah. Sorry, goodbye now,” You sputter out before slamming the laptop closed. Nathan groans while stroking his cock with your wet panties, making you clench around nothing.

“Rubbing yourself while working. Naughty girl,” Nathan tsks, dropping the underwear and lifting you up with a smirk. You both stand face to face with each other, aroused and desperate, yet neither will beg for it.

Caressing your face with his rough hands, Nathan pulls you in for a kiss. His tongue roams your mouth and his lips ignite a fire through your body. Your hands lock on his hips and squeeze his ass teasingly. He growls in your mouth, almost biting your tongue. Your fingers crawl up the nape of his neck, tugging at the short hair. Grunting, he slaps your ass playfully in return before breaking the kiss. You lift up your tank top and toss it across the room, abandoning it. He spins you around and bends you over so your rear is right against his front. You catch yourself with your hands planted on the ground, feet steadying you.

His bare length slots between your cheeks, soaked in your arousal. Nathan rocks back and forth without sliding in, so you push back against him in a silent plea.

“Fucking drenched,” He hisses, grabbing a handful of your soft skin until he’s holding your hips sturdy. “Didn’t know you were such a whore.”

“You’ve been—fuck— teasing me all day,” You moan as he ruts his cock against your fluttering folds. “Walking around naked? Who does that?”

“That’s not a nice way to talk to the person who’s determining if you’re coming tonight,” Nathan slaps your ass a little harsher this time, making you yelp and grind against him harder.

“Nate, please just fuck me already,” You plead as the blood begins to rush to your head.

“That’s more like it,” He spreads your cheeks and slams into you. Your arms almost collapse under the pressure, too weak for his brutal thrusts. His balls slap against your ass while he pounds mercilessly deeper and harder.

Rough, calloused hands grip your hips, forcing you to take all of his length. You can feel the ridges of his cock in your cunt as he hits new angles you’ve never experienced before. Wails and moans echo throughout the house as your limbs tremble with pleasure. Your vision becomes starry and your head starts to pound from being practically upside down. When the weakness of your arms causes you to crumble beneath your weight, Nathan sweeps you up before you could fall.

The blood rush melts away as his face comes into clear view. With ease, he rests you on the dining table near your forgotten laptop. His muscles bulk and flex with intensity as sweat begins to form on his skin. His chiseled core contracts with each impel, making you wetter and wetter. He thrusts back into you without warning, causing you to shriek.

“God, you’re so hot,” You whimper while squeezing his thick biceps, nails stabbing his flesh. Gutturally moaning, he seizes more brutal ruts into you, making your eyes roll back. He leans down to mark up your neck in tattooed kisses.

“What about me is so hot?” Nathan huffs mockingly into your neck, his warm and gravelly voice melting you entirely. He loved being praised, and seeing him so affected only spurred you to do it more.

“Y-your muscles. You’re so strong,” Pathetic moans pepper out of your throat, dry and squeaky from screaming. He growls, plunging savagely rough into your cunt at the compliment. Arousal surrounds his cock when you clench snuggly around him, milking him deliciously.

“Such a dirty girl. My dirty girl,” Nathan grunts while your breathing heaves. “Come now.”

Your pussy tightens around his length, unable to control the rapid bliss that hits you hard the second he permits. Your jaw drops in ecstasy, eyes screwed shut in undeniable pleasure.

“Look at me. Wanna see your gorgeous face.”

You attempt to open your eyes as your orgasm releases from you in silent cries. Core contracting and nails scratching, your back aches into his torso while he nibbles into your neck. White liquid pours out, legs shaking as you fall from the high. His pace slows as you feel the twitch of his cock inside your walls.

“Come in me. Please, baby,” Your croaked voice pleads him to the finish line.

“Mm, need me to fill you up? Need to be nice and full of my cum?” His hands spread your legs wider, rutting deep and slow into you when you moan in affirmation. His shaft spasms and his balls tense before he releases ropes of cum into your cunt. You whimper at the sensation, closing your eyes in euphoria. He pulls in and out, pushing all of his sperm far inside to make sure it’s all tucked in.

Nathan stares up at you as your hands slide up to his neck. A weary, blissed-out smile reflects on both of your faces as you lean in for a kiss. Your teeth clink from uncontrollable, cheeky smiles and your fingers intertwine in his chestnut hair.

“You were a bit of a tease today,” You bit your lip, pulling away, but keeping him close enough where you can feel his warm, heaving breath on your skin.

“You love it though,” An inviting smirk danced on his lips while a tinge of pink decorated his cheeks. He lowers his forehead to rest on yours, noses brushing cutely.

“Sadly, I do, Nathan Drake,” You hold back a goofy grin. “Sadly, I do.”

“Well, I hope you don’t say it like that at the wedding,” He chuckles and you gasp, swatting his chest playfully. You don’t want to act so surprised, but your eyes are shot wide.

“Do not mention wedding stuff! It’s only been… seven months!” With a pointed finger to his buff chest, he laughs it off with his hands raised defensively.

“But you’ve known me for ten!”

You were one hundred percent serious when you said you loved Nathan, you really did. But you never thought about a commitment until him. Not a serious one, that is. Although you two had a rocky start, he changed how you viewed the concept of relationships entirely. Your guard was constantly up, a barrier you created over the course of your life after being disappointed again and again. Nathan and you traveled various distances and battled challenges most people in their life will never face.

But he showed you that it was okay to live and to love because the risk of the fall doesn’t always end badly.

It wasn’t even directed toward you, just typical Nate inspiration, but that was a key quote you will forever remember. It was from your second (failed) mission together, when you were ‘stranded’ and waiting for Sully to ‘rescue’ you both (he just needed to bring the boat around). He opened up to you, like it was second nature to him. You envied how easy it seemed to pour your heart into a stranger who could possibly abandon you. But Nathan always had faith. And maybe his faith in you was right.

Maybe Nathan was the one who you’d say I do to.

You didn’t doubt him. You doubted you.

“I wouldn’t say it like that,” You whisper against his swollen lips, face blank with a million thoughts soaring behind your eyes.

“What?” His forehead crinkles in mild confusion while his hand caresses your jaw delicately. Curiosity and a hint of hope float within his irises, but it could just be your imagination.

“I would… be happy to say I do. I wouldn’t hesitate to say it. Well, I might, but only because I’d be nervous,” You heart thudded against your ribs and your palms began to feel clammy. You laugh awkwardly, anxiety infecting your body. “Why am I nervous now? I’m just imagining it— and now I’m rambling about nothing—”

“It’s not nothing, Y/N. I’ve imagined it, too,” Nate reassures with soft touches on your cheek, smoothing your hair over. “I pictured you in a long, white dress with an open back. Long, laced sleeves because I know you’d find that classic and elegant. You wouldn’t have a long train because you wouldn’t want to trip over it. I imagined that day to feel greater than any gold.”

Water glossed over your eyes as you fought back tears until you were swallowing thickly. You hadn’t expected him to have it all planned out. But again, Nathan always plans ahead. He’s always two steps in front of the average person. Another thing you loved about him.

You envisioned his description, finding only near-perfection in the way he thinks.

“Are you joking? Because I will find some creative ways to kill you—”

“I’ve never been more serious. Y/N, I knew from the first day we met that we had something. Whether we were partners, best friends, or dating, we were meant to be together. Don’t you think?” Both of his thumbs rub gentle circles across your supple cheeks, warm from the immense love circulated around you.

“I didn’t at first. Not like you did,” You smiled, remembering the awkward first encounter when Sully introduced you both. You were young and mischievous, and Nathan was also young, but also very trusting, which challenged your judgment. You didn’t even know of his existence a year ago, but ten months later and you feel like you’ve known him a lifetime. That’s got to count for something, right? “but now I understand that you’re right. We were destined to meet— Did you hear what I just said? Your sappy shit is influencing me!”

His beautiful, hearty laughter breaks the tension and pulls at your heartstrings when his skin crinkles to adjust to his expression.

“But you love me and my sappy shit, right?” He pecks your forehead, making you melt into a puddle right in the palm of his hand.

“Sadly, I do, Nathan Drake. Sadly, I do.”

—

hot??? cute??? hopefully :D