#i read stuff ugh its so wonderful

[gobstoppr]

hey guys am i allowed to say on main that i dont like metadad . am i gonna get beaten up for saying this.

guys i think we all took the term found family too literally and now everythings flattened into a boring nuclear family. guys can we stop. hello . is anybody there

[seventh-district]

not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go

(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)

[yunogf]

.

[kinyeee]

There was a time in my live, when I would come across posts about how some person LOVE their idols. I thought there is no way they really love, love this person, they don't even met once and they don't about their existence. How can you love someone you don't really know personally?

Then I got into KP fandom and "met" Bible... Now I can say I do love him a lot even though we never met, I've never seen him with my own eyes. There was never any actor, idol any famous human being I could say I have a crush on. Until now.

Like what the heck. How can I feel so strong emotions towards someone I didn't met? Is this an empaths thing? Am I projecting my own fantasies about them?

Recently this feelings are messing with my head and I don't know if this is normal. I haven't felt this sort of connection with any known person I liked and was a fan of.

[madaracore]

[pizzapizzadickz]

.

[mydarlingdyke]

melt

a dbf!abby x fem reader drabble

WARNING: SMUT!! minors dni or I'll grab ur feet from under the bed while u sleep

summer hit like a tidal wave. the drops of sweat running down your chest and the scorching sunlight bleeding through the window was enough to drive anyone crazy. your solution? making freezing cold lemonade first thing in the morning. you'd taken a sip from it just to taste it; was it too sweet? maybe you messed up the amount of sugar... but then again, you preferred slightly-too-sweet over slightly-too-sour.

that wasn't your dad's opinion though, after he took a sip of it before running to get his keys. an emergency meeting at his workplace, something about an unplanned financial situation. that's the reason why you were left all on your own for the remaining of the afternoon... and you decided to put your time to good use.

loud music was playing from the portable speaker you set on the coffee table while your figure was splayed out on the couch, only in your underwear, reading some sort of magazine your mother kept in her room. the shorts and t-shirt you were sleeping in prior to that were on the floor and the AC was turned on, easing off the vapor that seemed to envelop the house. a particular song came up, and soon enough you were dancing around the living room, with hops and twirls and funky dance steps that would surely scare off anyone at a club. but it didn't matter, you were alone right? no one was there to burst your little bubble of delicious freedom.

or so you thought.

ding-dong, the doorbell rang.

you froze in place, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

"y/n? you there?"

oh shit. shit shit shit shit.

abby anderson, your dad's best friend. and did I mention next door neighbor? her voice was distinct, you knew it from all the times your mind would replay its timbre and raspiness after hearing her say anything. it was almost entrancing, the soft and yet deep way she spoke... but this was no time to daydream.

in the blink of a eye you were scrambling across the room, looking desperately for your pajamas. fuck, where are my shorts? you kneeled down to find them under the couch.

"be right there!"

you yelled out, acknowledging her presence at the door. you threw your clothes over you in a haste, smoothing your hair down and panting a couple times before you opened the door to reveal the tall, burly woman in front of you. a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, with her hair tied back in that familiar braid. you sometimes wondered what would be like to run your fingers through it, to braid it for her. or to tug on it while she's-

"everything okay?" her words took you out of your daze. you must've been staring because the way she eyed you up and down with that little smirk on her face... ugh! so hot and she doesn't even know it.

"uh, yeah! I'm fine, thank you ms. anderson." you chirped, breath still staggered from the short but tiring race you had just seconds ago. "did the music bother you?"

the sincere and sweet tone you spoke in made abby chuckle softly. such a pretty girl, worried she upset her friendly hot neighbor, looking up at her with guilt painted over her features. she decided to put those worries to rest.

"not at all! I just..." the woman says as she looks back at your driveway. "I saw your dad's car wasn't here, and I came by to drop of some stuff he asked me to get."

"oh!" you slightly perked up. "then please, come in..."

you gestured for her to walk inside, and so she did. the chilly air of the AC greeted her in a matter of seconds. she tried not to stare at the way your hard nipples were visible through the flimsy material of your tee. were you even wearing a bra?

it was simple, really. abby knew she had a thing for you the second you and your family moved into the cul-de-sac. with your beautiful hair and your sunny disposition. yet as she developed a close bond with your father she couldn't help but feel a little guilty. it was weird to have a thing for your best friend's daughter. she'd constantly battle the urges that suddenly bloomed in her chest when you were around.

but how could she? you were so pretty, so stunning, so sweet... whatever word she used to describe you, the feeling was the same.

that same feeling was present now, as she placed the bag of unknown contents on the kitchen counter. you were curious enough to try and get a peek: seemed like things you'd buy at a hardware store. then you remembered the loud clanking and whirring of metal machines in your garage this week, and it all made sense.

you moved away to stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. it wasn't the first time abby dropped by, but never without your dad in the house. and especially not when you were this... flushed from the heat. yeah, the heat. must be the heat.

"so!" you quickly tried to make the awkwardness dissipate in your body. "you can, um, take a seat..."

your still shaky voice sounded sweet as you gestured towards the living room, the comfy red couch on immediate line of sight. once abby silently took up your offer and plopped on the soft cushions, it almost looked like she belonged in that space. the golden sun rays hitting her equally golden hair, making all of her freckles and sunkissed marks on her skin glow. she sat comfortably, a muscular arm draped over the top cushions; if you didn't know her you'd say she's acting all smug and overconfident like she owns the place. but the truth is she's been there so many times before, laughing and sharing with your parents about her life and experiences over a glass of wine on the weekends... she might as well own it.

"want something to drink? water, juice..." you were being a bad host, you had to change that. "I made lemonade this morning."

she just looked you up and down with a gentle smile. "lemonade sounds great."

your waddle to the kitchen was rushed, almost tripping over your slides. unsure hands and self-conscious fingers reached for a glass in a cupboard that was a little too high up. you felt her eyes on you. don't look stupid, don't look stupid. you stretched as far as you could to finally grab the frosted glass cup, pretending like the burn wasn't a little too intense for your limbs.

abby kept a steady eye on you, noticing how your shorts rode up your thighs. she felt like a vulgar man gawking at you, but that didn't stop her from taking every detail of your back bending over the fridge as you pulled out the jar with that sweet, lemony drink. how you poured ice into the glass and how you served it with such softness. this feels wrong.

and it definitely was.

you came back to her with your lips pressed into an awkward smile, putting down the chilled glass on the coffee table in front of you. and you stood there. why were you just standing there? she patted the empty spot next to her on the couch, and you obliged without hesitation.

she nodded softly before she spoke. "thanks, princess." the nickname made butterflies spring out of your belly, feeling that familiar shiver down your spine whenever you were around her.

you tried not to stare as she brought the glass to her lips, watching her throat bob gently while she almost drank the whole thing in one sitting. she stopped halfway through, letting out a satisfied ahhh sound.

"really good, just what I needed."

you blinked. "really? don't think it's too sweet?"

abby shrugged with a smirk. "it's sweet, but I like that."

a small silence fell between the both of you, only two seconds long until she broke it. almost as if she hesitated to continue.

"like you."

did the room suddenly get warmer? despite the AC blasting cool air into every corner of it? that's what you thought at least, because it seemed that your flesh was melting off of your face; cheeks red and chest tight. you were suffocating.

it was evident to the blonde sitting next to you too. she could practically see your skin melting into the couch, your clothes slowly engulfed by flames. god, how she wanted your clothes to suddenly combust. but she knew, unfortunately, that they wouldn't. at least not without her acting on it.

one hand on your thigh later, it's like your clothes were never there to begin with.

"tell me you want this." abby whispered between heated kisses, on your lips and neck and jaw. every single touch feeling it scorch your skin. a desperate set of lips snaked down your neck to your shoulder, nipping and sucking at the skin for far too long, leaving a red mark.

with quivering lips you answered a simple "yes, please", and that was enough to drive the woman mad.

you saw it in the way her beautiful blue eyes darkened, her gaze heavy on your features and down to every detail of your body. what a sight to behold. no barrier of fabric was left between you two, sweaty and hot bodies sticking together like glue. a rough hand went to your core, soothing circles around your already dripping core. slipping a finger, then two— until the stretch was stirring your insides with every push of her palm against your clit.

"atta girl, that's it... doing so good." she would coo into your ear, pressing a fluttering kiss right below your earlobe as you orgasmed for the first time under her touch. it came in one intense, magnificent wave that crashed over you mercilessly, and then the soothing ripples of the aftershock took place.

she took her digits out, coated in your slick and staring at them with an unreadable— yet undeniably aroused— expression. you whined at the emptiness, finally realizing they should stay inside you forever.

"c'mon, sit on the armrest." she commanded with a gentle voice. your body moved on its own, still sore from the pleasure you just experienced. once seated, she propped your legs open and positioned herself between them. "gonna give me one more, 'kay princess?"

and then you swore you were actually melting this time. because the way her head dove between your thighs, and her tongue moved so deliciously over your folds, tasting you like you could somehow soothe the aching heat of the summer— it made your legs sticky, your brow dewy and your lips parched. moan after moan, plead after plead, she was relentless against your cunt, slurping up every bit of liquid she could from that sacred spot on your body, leaving you dry.

your second orgasm soon approached, yet this time the wave was refreshing. like salt water spraying on your face in a beach day, like a cold shower in the middle of july, like a gulp of delicious sweet lemonade dripping down your chin.

you were in a daze, limbs buttery and fucked out— too fucked out to hear keys jingling on the other side of the front door. was this all a dream? or was it the heat?

yeah, the heat. must be the heat.

[virgincels]

ASKING FOR IT !

ft. og4 leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. p in v, smut, cheating (not on reader), ooc leon sorry, he’s mean, negging, misogyny, reference to past rape/non-con, unresolved trauma, suicidal thoughts duhhh, he calls reader ugly a lot, leon subs for his gf but doms reader, non-con to consensual sex, manipulation, some .. uh waterboarding? he dunks your head in water, opioid addiction but it’s minor LMFAOO

note. haii… um feedback whether it’s good or bad appreciated really forced myself to write this so im like ack. hating everything i write but! ignore typos :3 it’s not as fleshed out as i wanted .. soooo it reads pretty jolty but yah 😭 and the smut is like not. IDK I’m ugh not into it just couldn’t bring myself to extend stuff that I really wanted to develop n he’s ooc. BUT!! again ignore typos or I’ll cry n feedback/constructive criticism appreciated <3

Leon has a girlfriend. He can never hold down a girl, his ability to scare women away is preternatural, so it’s a big deal. And she’s fucking hot. Not like model hot, but pornstar hot. She’s got tits so firm they might as well be bulletproof. Bottle blonde with eyes that swallow up her whole face. Her stomach doesn’t crease when she sits. It’s the type of beauty that takes its form in slashes of red lace and nylon. Not many women are out of his league, but she is.

They have hot sex like attractive people tend to do, and it goes something along the lines of this.

He goes:

Is that dick good, baby? You like it? Right there, baby?

And she goes:

Fuck, yes, baby! Harder, deeper— Oh, right there!

And then she doesn’t cum.

So there’s that, but he’s working on it.

Leon doesn’t take well to tips on how to fuck. Reading advice columns in the Men’s Health magazine leaves a funny taste in his mouth. It might be the blood from the castrated image of his masculinity. Who knows.

He struggles with that sort of thing. A nice face does nothing for a man who doesn’t actually like anything about himself. Leon’s still that wimpy self-hating loser he was all those years ago. In all fairness to God, there are a few added tweaks here and there. Some bug fixes. Now he’s drunk and shallow too! Misanthropic when he’s at his very best.

As a kid, mom told Leon to be a nice boy so he was a nice boy. Not because he was ever a particularly nice boy, but for her sake. So instead of acting out he would go and crush ants beneath his thumb in the front yard because there is this mean part of Leon that splinters inside of him like cooked bones.

Life to Leon is being fucked into apologising for being alive so it’s no wonder he’s still harbouring the insecurities of a boy he isn't.

When he was eighteen it was by ugly old men who abhorred him for being the embodiment of whatever it was they were hiding from their wives. His legs looked nice thrown over a pair of big shoulders. They were so thin back then, model-type shit. All of those men mildly resembled his dad, but that’s something he wouldn’t quite like to crack down on yet. Leon’s being open enough as it is.

When he was twenty-one it was his headache of a first girlfriend. It was the bullet wound in his shoulder. When he was twenty-two it was being passed around boot camp like a dirty needle. When he was twenty-seven it was Luis who was nothing and everything in between. It was a picture book princess like Ashley. The scar on his shoulder. Stigmata. Glory Be. Whatever.

(And Jack, it was always Jack. Pale all over like a healed scar.)

What Leon is trying to get across, he’s not quite sure. Maybe that he's nice in theory and the reality is he’s a self-confessed charlatan of niceness. Or that he can’t fuck. He can’t fuck because he is deeply traumatised. Yeah. Maybe that’s what he’s trying to say. It’s an excuse, sure, doesn’t make it the truth though. Leon can’t fuck ‘cause he’s useless at most things that don’t include guns. He can’t fuck ‘cause he was unattractive as a teenager and that solidified the way he feels about himself now.

Leon’s got one thing going for him - he fingers her pussy till his fingers prune. Eats her out till he gets lockjaw.

“Oh, you’re so good at that,” she says, kissing his slicked-up lips.

Then her eyes flit to his hard dick and she gives him that strange half-smile. One that seems to say: Not with that. His dick. Obviously.

His shit is big enough, it’s long enough— It’s enough. And it’s pretty. Could put a bow on to make it real cute. Could manufacture a dildo inspired by it. So Leon cannot for the life of him wrap his head around her problem. It’s not his dicks fault her pussy is fucking broken. Her broken pussy doesn’t get to make his dick sad. Doesn’t get to lay devastating blows on his gone-with-the-wind ego.

Another thing is, her sister is an ugly bitch. That upsets Leon and his dick in tow. You’re a student, taking a break for some reason Leon has not bothered to fathom. He couldn’t care less. Go do it someplace else. In this house, you’re nothing more than a cockblock. Leon could forgive you for being a cockblock if you weren’t ugly. Or vice versa.

It would be okay if Leon wasn’t stuck at home with you for hours at a time. Work fucked up his back, so he’s staying here in his girlfriend’s apartment eating her food, running her taps, fucking her badly and shitting on her sister.

You’re sat on the other end of the table with a soggy bowl of cereal while he nurses a juice box like a real man. What do ugly little things like you think about anyway?

When Leon was ugly he thought about forcing his dick into the cute girl next door between his more regular thoughts of what to eat for dinner and whether he stocked up on toilet paper or not.

When he was ugly, his day was made simply by a pretty girl looking in his general direction. So Leon makes sure to look in yours. Y’know, to fuel your perverted wet dreams. Your rape fantasies. What freaks think about when they’re near hot guys. Well, it’s strange actually. You tend to totally ignore him. When the two of you make brief eye contact, you don’t flounder or duck or bow your head like you’re shy— You just move on with your life. That bothers him. Leon’s hot now. He’s not the type of man you just brush over like that. He’s the type you gawk at in broad daylight, he’s the sort of guy you see in soft porn magazines.

“Good morning,” his girlfriend greets, “have a good sleep, sweetie?” She bumps your hip when you stand up to hug her.

She’s wearing stockings today. Oh, he loves stockings. He loves pencil skirts. He loves— He loves office wear. He wants to be put over her lap and spanked raw perhaps.

“Yeah, it’d be nice if your boyfriend stopped moaning like a girl though.” It’s said into her ear, but Leon hears it.

“I’m going now, honey,” his girlfriend tells him.

Like a good boy, Leon stands to bid her goodbye. Her blouse is sheer, shows off her black bra and he eyes it with distaste.

“What’s wrong, Leon?”

He doesn’t speak. Just glares at her perfect set of tits like a baby weaned off milk.

“I can’t take them off,” she snorts.

Leon wishes she could. Hang ‘em up in the closet and pop them back on when it’s time to play. Tits are for the bedroom. Otherwise, they’re too much of a distraction. Instead, he settles on slipping his hand up her skirt to check if she’s wearing panties. (There’s no panty line showing through her pencil skirt and that’s always a bad sign.) She shoos him away.

So Leon leans in for a kiss, and she says, “Nuh-uh, honey, you’ll ruin my makeup.” Then she gives in ‘cause Leon can be kinda cute when he tries hard enough. “Just one, okay?”

“Yeah.” Leon nods. Her kisses are analgesic. Which is unfortunate considering he has an opioid addiction. Almost an addiction.

“One,” she counts, Leon kisses her again, “two, three, four.”

She’s teasing him now.

“Okay, well, keep an eye on her, Leon.”

“I’m not twelve,” you say, exiting the kitchen to spare yourself the sight of him groping your older sister.

Yeah, and Leon’s not a bang nanny.

He wipes the red from his lips, takes his juice box from the table where you’re no longer and decides jerking off in the shower will make him feel better. Leon does. He finishes. Watches his seed wash down the drain and wonders if that was wasteful. A short intermission is taken, then he jerks off in front of her full-body mirror. His biceps flex and his abs tighten, and he looks fucking good.

Why isn’t she cumming? What’s wrong with her? Is she getting too old? Is menopause hitting already? She’s only thirty-something. It can’t be that, and she asked Leon to pick up tampons last week— Unless they were for you.

Nobody in this house tells Leon anything. Another shower is what he needs. No, he needs a smoke. Leon doesn’t smoke. He does the next best thing, rests idly against the railings of her balcony, observing the ballet of D.C. life. Man, he could throw himself over right now. Splat against the asphalt and that would be it. It’d all be over. Hauling his weight over would be no problem. Catastrophizing to pass the time. Men used to do this for a living in Ancient Greece. What happened to philosophising? Leon could be a philosopher, all they did was spout nonsense and he is good at that. Not at fucking, however.

Beer. Yeah. Beer. That’s what he needs. Leon ransacks the fridge to no avail. Health-conscious living is the reason for misery, he believes. See, very insightful, modern-day Socrates right here. Lean proteins, vegan substitutes, low-fat yoghurt— It’s so girly it makes him sick.

“She’s still on a health kick,” you say from behind him, “I thought it was a New Years thing, but she’s still, like, super into it.”

Why are you talking to him? Leon blinks at you owlishly. “Right,” he says.

You give him a funny look, turning back to the counter to use the coffee machine. Don’t you want him? You’re not shy. Why aren’t you shy? Shouldn’t you be shy? Ugly Leon was mute around girls whether they were short, fat, ugly or pretty. Shit, he is clucking for a beer.

“There's Chardonnay under the sink.” Well, that’s unhelpful.

“Yeah, I don’t- I don’t drink that.” He would like to finish his sentence off with ‘girly shit’ but you seem like the type to find that offensive.

“Figured.” The coffee machine whirs. A lobotomised silence ensues. “Good talk.”

You’re so ugly you’re asking for it. Perfect subject for the ‘I can’t make my girlfriend cum, is her pussy broken?’ experiment. Ugly girls don’t count as a fuck, right? Not when they’re sent to the very back of your mind after said fuck. He wonders how many girls counted the uglier him as an official lay.

You’re on your tummy reading a book. The Beautiful and Damned. Leon had no idea they wrote a book about him. The door creaking exposes his creeping against his will.

“Do you need something?” you ask without batting an eye.

The swell of your ass is nice. “Uh, yeah, I do.”

Rolling over and sitting up to face him, you tilt your head to the side. “Go on.”

“I want to have sex with you.” Woah. Okay. That’s a genie he can’t put back in the bottle. Fuck, why does he do this stupid shit? Leon should just kill himself. All roads lead to suicide. Every sign points towards suicide and he is still holding on for dear life.

Think about Sherry. Sherry won’t care, kids hit sixteen and don’t give a fuck about much, he reasons with the voice in his head. How about Claire? Oh, she’ll think good fucking riddance. Redfield? No way. You are truly out of options, Kennedy.

“I’m sorry?”

Oh, god no, Leon’s the one that should be sorry. “You heard me.” The apology comes out incredibly wrong. “I’m helping you out.”

“Helping me out with what? I’m sorry, Leon, I didn’t… I didn’t think I— I don’t know what made you think I wanted this from you, but I don’t like you—“

You don’t like him? Why not? He’d like a list of reasons with a page-long explanation. What’s not to like? The hair. It’s the hair. Blond is too girly. That’s what it is.

“—I mean, you’re with my sister, did you really think I would say yes? I’m sorry, I’m just a little confused, where is this coming from? Gosh, I really… I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m helping you out,” Leon repeats, using his hands to gesture at your face, at your body. “No one else is gonna do it.” This apology has gone way out of bounds. A simple sorry would have sufficed.

“What..?” Something doleful crosses your face, then it twists unpleasantly. “You think I want to have sex with you… ‘cause I’m not cute? Like, you think I’m…”

Ugly, yes. He does. Only a little. Can you turn over? He wants to make you cum. “You’re a virgin, yeah?”

“Oh my god, there’s, like, something wrong with you!” You stand to your full height in a pitiful attempt to appear frightening. That face is enough to scare a man away already. “Get out— And I am so telling her when she gets back home, I told her I didn’t like you, I told her and now you just-“

Leon grabs you by the jaw, squeezes you so tight it clicks. “Okay, sweetheart, here’s how this is going to go,” he starts, taking both your wrists in a single hand, “we’re going to start over, and you’re going to be a good little girl and apologise to me like you really mean it.”

“Apologise for what?” It comes out muffled through your forced pout so he chooses to ignore you.

“I don’t know what you fuckin’ said.” Leon should just end it here, he should let go of you and check into the nearest asylum. He’s hot. Leon is box blond. He’s tall enough to dwarf most girls. His face is nice. His body is nicer. So he doesn’t know what his problem is. Once pinned down, you shrink away from him, expression so sour your skin looks ready to melt off your skull.

And then he fucks you till you stop screaming. He leaves you in a withered heap, heads back to his room to take a well-deserved nap, hides his face in the pillows. They smell like her. He should think about killing himself some more. That gun looks awfully shiny. Nth time could be the charm.

She gets home in the evening, drops her bag on the floor to alert him of her entrance.

“I missed you.” Leon noses at her neck.

“You were sleeping.” She ruffles his hair like he’s a child.

“I still missed you.”

“Even when you’re sleeping?”

In the least creepy way possible, he wants to wear her skin as a suit, and she thinks his body doesn’t yearn for her at every sleeping second?

“The most when I’m sleeping, have bad dreams without you,” Leon mumbles groggily.

“How cute,” she muses, “good day?”

“Great day.” Leon nods. “Real productive.”

“Oh yeah? What’d you get up to?” A singular red nail strokes along his spine.

“Thought about you,” he answers, leaving out the part where he spent half of his time jerking off. Oh, and the part where he fucked her sister into submission. He raped you. He did. Leon doesn’t like that word. Far too harsh.

“Now, don’t push it, mister.” When she smiles there’s a lack of wrinkles— Not even smile lines, it’s artificial almost.

Leon’s good at pushing buttons. He should get paid for it. “It’s true, if you said jump I’d ask how high.”

“You’re so funny, Leon.” She kisses his head and laughs all prim and proper.

“Serious, babe, I’m super partial to jumping,” he says to hear her laugh again. He’s more partial to suicide. It’s great. A one-way ticket off of God’s green inferno. Who would he even be without suicide ideation?

“Alright, but I’d like you all in one piece.” She kisses his cheek. “No jumping, okay, honey?” She kisses his neck and his collarbones and his Adam’s apple and he’s unable to breathe.

“Okay,” Leon says. He gets it now. She’s mommying him. Maybe this is what Leon needs. To play house. A daddy to fuck his throat and a mommy to sit on his dick and tell him that he’s a good boy and he’s needed and he won’t have to think if he has a mommy and daddy to do that for him.

Can he backtrack on the rape thing? Trust Leon to take a good thing and ruin it in the worst way possible. If he kissed you he could’ve wormed his way out of it. Told her it was the medication he’s on, that he had a mental breakdown, a midlife crisis.

At dinner, your silence slips under the radar like cumstains on motel bedsheets. You pick at your food, and when Leon’s knee brushes yours under the table, you excuse yourself. Sometimes he thinks that he is a bad person, this can be backed up by many things. Violating you might outweigh saving the world.

In bed, he thinks about changing, about calling his therapist in the morning, he might take a leap off that balcony, cleaning up his act sounds terribly hard. Leon does this all with his head tucked into the hollow of his girlfriend’s neck. The thinking has killed his boner and now he can’t get it up. So he pretends to fall asleep. It’s an unconvincing performance ‘cause the moment she swipes a hand over his ass he lets out a disgruntled noise. Leon clenches so quickly his stomach caves in.

“You don’t like that, honey?”

He shakes his head, overgrown bangs falling in his eyes. Leon has a nice ass. It’s no wonder she wants to touch it, leg presses have done him wonders, but still, it’s off-limits. She can’t sweet talk her way into this anytime soon.

“Why, Leon?” She’s cupping his ass like he’s a girl. Leon’s not a girl. “You’d look so cute.”

“No,” he whines, and it sounds kind of sexy. He gets it. He can see the appeal.

“I think you just need some encouragement, baby.” She’s taking him apart like a gun. Folding him like laundry. Milks his prostate so well he sleeps like a baby. Not even a shadow of an orgasm to be seen from her side.

She leaves early the next morning and he’s left alone to ruminate. What he finds out today is that you’re pretty diligent at sucking dick when forced.

Leon thinks he would like to break you in a way that only he can fix.

He pushes your head down on his dick till your lips are stretched so far they split at the corners, you gag wetly each time the fat tip knocks the back of your throat, heavy balls slapping against your chin.

“Aww, look at you,” Leon coos, “little girl taking big things.”

Fat tears well in your eyes, a faint tremor betrays your effort to hold them back, a single blink and they roll down your cheeks like dewdrops. It might be the dick lodged in your throat, pulsing under your tongue— Yeah, no, it’s his dick in your mouth. That’s why you're upset. No other reason for it. Leon finds you a little ungrateful. A lot of women would pay for this, to drain his balls. Hell, your sister loves to do it.

“One at a time, sweetheart,” he says as he guides you to his balls, “can’t have you choking, can we?” You look up at him blankly. Leon thought he was funny and that’s all that matters. “Go on, spit on ‘em, get me nice and wet.” The drool pooling beneath your tongue drizzles his balls in clear strings, his drippy tip bumps the bridge of your nose, rests comfy on your brow ridge.

You’re struggling real bad. He’ll take it as a compliment. The thing is, you refuse to just lick them, pulling off each ball with a wet pop! and a dry cough. Leon starts to zone out so he shoves you off and quite pathetically, you fall flat on your back.

“You didn’t shave,” Leon notes in distaste, he was going to do you a favour too.

“No— Not for you.” You squirm like a fish on the docks when he hovers over you.

“Not for me, right.”

“Anyone but you.”

“You're not gonna do it for anyone, sweetheart, know why?” Leon clicks his tongue when you dodge his kiss, twisting your neck to keep a distance.

“Why?”

“No one else wants you,” he states, “you’re lucky that I want you.”

“Well, that’s not true.” You’re stubborn amongst all your other undesirable traits.

Leon scoffs. “What, so you ever had a boyfriend?” He runs his index finger along your slit. Bone dry. Serious? He assumes you’re still sore from yesterday.

“That’s none of your fucking business.”

“Don’t get mad at me, honey, I’m just helping you out.” Leon spits on your pussy, then on his thick cock for good measure, jerks his shaft and presses a thumb to his tip to guide it into you. Your lips fold inwards around him as he breaches your tiny hole. There’s too much resistance for it to be a smooth sailing journey, and you’re new to cock, cunt pushing him out as your body tenses. “I’m being nice to you, so you should say thank you.”

“Oh, god,” you mutter, brows knit in what might be pain or pleasure.

“Yeah, that’s what you’re calling me now?” The look you give him is priceless, small hands settling on his chest as you push at him weakly. “No, baby, you don’t get to do that.” Leon bottoms out, he rolls his hips forward to grind the head of his dick into your cervix, the fleshly opening moulds to his tip and you cry out. He can never tell if you’re enjoying it.

Leon sticks his fingers in your mouth to coat them in spit, you retch and he rubs figure eights on your clit, only then does your cunt loosen up its hold on him. It’s a quick process, the quicker he rubs you raw, the wetter you get, biting down on your tongue to keep quiet, but low groans slip past your cracked lips.

“Oh, there we go, baby, that’s it,” Leon coos, his cock slicked up by your wet pussy, sliding in and out with ease. His hips snap forward, forcing himself deeper into your messy little pussy, so wet you’re dripping down his balls, wetness stuck to your inner thighs.

“Fuck— I can’t, I can’t do it, ‘s too big,” you whimper, a hand slipping between your bodies to lay on your stomach. What you don’t understand is that he is big, yeah, but your pussy just needs to be broken in. Like a new pair of shoes.

“You’re doing it, baby,” Leon says, ‘cause you are doing it. You’re taking it. Body going rigid with each brutal thrust into your sopping wet hole. Whether you can take it or not isn’t for you to decide anyway. “I’m going to stuff your little pussy full,” he tells you.

“No,” you choke out, scratching at his chest, nails too blunt to do any sort of damage. Thank fuck. His girlfriend would go nuts.

It’s a satisfying victory, he covers your mouth to concentrate all his energy into this creampie, fills you to the brim, seed thick enough to stick to your insides. The original aim of his ‘experiment’ is forgotten, Leon doesn’t care if you cum or cry or pass out on his dick.

“I’m tellin’ her when she comes home.” Your threat is weak. He feared the consequences of yesterday, but you said nothing.

“You’re not telling her, you like me too much,” Leon decides, “I know you do, baby.”

“I don’t like you at all.” Your bottom lip trembles, fists balled up by your sides. The contempt only turns him on.

“No, but I think you know I’m right, don’t you?” No one else wants you, and you know that. Leon knows you know that. He’s the only one that is ever going to fuck you.

“Right about what? You’re a fucking psycho— I could get you locked up, I should get you locked up.”

“You should, so what're you waiting for?” If you did report him, Leon would just kill himself, going to prison sounds like a bore. “I think, sweetheart, that secretly, you really like it when I rape you.”

And your silence proves him right.

That report never comes. Duh. You love his dick. You like being roughed up. You know you’re deserving of it. Jesus Christ, Leon needs to call his shrink. Honestly, being around you is hard. It’s like his guilty conscience has developed a human body, shambling around the apartment in the shape of a malformed ghost girl, reminding him of the shit he’s said and done to you. You’re spinning in his necrosed brain like one of those music box ballerinas.

“Leon, be a doll and do me up,” his girlfriend is facing away from him, the smooth skin of her back and shoulders bared to him.

Leon only hears the ‘do me’ part, kissing the nape of her neck, reaching round to grab at her fat tits. “I love you…”

“I love you too, baby, but what do you think you’re doing?”

Leon makes a motion with his fingers, she sees it in the mirror.

“What is that, sign language?”

“No, I want to finger you.”

“Oh, well, that’s lovely, baby, but it’s not the time for that. I asked you to zip me up, Leon.” He zips her up while wondering how she can be so unaffected by him being so stupid.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” You knock on the door, you keep hiding your face from him today. His girlfriend said it’s ‘cause you have makeup on. Apparently that changes things. It’s sort of cute. Like, are you shy? You should be shy.

“Oh, no one likes cliffhangers, honey,” she says, forcing you to swap out some open-toe sandals for a pair of her heels. “Okay, Leon, I’ve left your dinner in the fridge, yes?”

Yes, mommy. “Yeah, babe.”

“And there’s snacks in the cupboard now, oh, and don’t use the tap water, it tastes strange so I stocked up— Leon, will you stop doing that with your jaw?”

Sorry, mommy. “Sorry, babe.”

“He’s totally fucking gurning,” you inform her in a way that screams playground snitch. He’ll choke you out for that.

“Gurning, what’s that?” His girlfriend asks cluelessly. This bitch is in her early thirties, Leon has no idea why she acts fifty. Whatever, it’s hot, he gets a girl with all the traits of an older lady without the sagging.

“Like, y’know, ‘cause he’s on meds.” What a little shit. Is this you getting back at him? Some petty fucking act of revenge? Getting his medication taken away from him by his health freak girlfriend?

“Medication? I didn’t know about this, Leon.” She looks at him like he’s killed her mother. Or raped her sister. If only she knew.

“Yeah, for my back, my back hurts, babe— Th-That’s why I’m on leave. My back hurts.” What a compelling act. Totally not a dude that’s two minutes away from injecting black tar heroin.

“Who prescribed them, a doctor or a vet?” You cock your head to the side. Fine. You fucking got him.

“Same thing.” Leon shrugs.

She makes him empty the bedside desk of pills. “Leon, good boys don’t do this. We don’t take drugs in this household, let me take them off your hands.”

“They’re- Babe, they’re not drugs, they’re for my back— I hurt my back.” Granted, his back stopped aching a few days back, he’s just taking advantage of the break. Also, he’s not a child.

“Your back, honey, I know it hurts.” She waves him off. “We can fix it, huh? I can book you in for acupuncture or cupping— Oh, what about a chiropractor?”

“Fine,” Leon says, voice cracking, watching in devastation as she takes his pills in a black garbage bag.

“Bye, Leon, see you later, honey.” She blows him a kiss and he catches it. He has to catch it.

“Yeah, bye, Leon!” You wave at him, looking happier than you have in days.

The door opens an hour later and Leon takes his hand out of his pants. You stand in front of him with red eyes and messy makeup. Leon, being the gentleman he is, takes you into his arms and rubs your back to soothe you as he tells you, more than a little cruel, I fucking told you so.

At least now you know that some guys aren’t as nice as Leon. Some men will spit in your face without considering how tight your pussy is, they won’t even think about how good your tits look in that push-up bra. See? That’s what the real world is like.

The bath fills as he bends you over the sofa. You’re prettier from behind, dress hiked up, soaked panties around your ankles. His hand smooths down the front of your stomach to cup your puffy cunt, prodding at your swollen clit. You shaved. Funny. Thought you were going to get a dick that wasn’t his.

Leon kneels, he spreads your ass cheeks to lick into your pussy from behind, tongue lapping up the beads of arousal that dribble down the seam of your cunt like sticky honey. He laps at your hole and you arch your back to push into him, his tongue fucking your pussy so well, sloppy sounds fill his ears.

“Been wanting to do this,” Leon says into your cunt, tongue making its way back up the centrefold of your fat pussy, he blows spit bubbles on your clit and then he nips at it until you cry out, startled by the jolt of pain. His dick kicks in his sweats. You taste good to make up for that face of yours.

You cream in his mouth so sweetly, toes curling against the wooden floor. Leon wipes his mouth on his forearm, then he wraps it around your neck, pulling your body flush to his. In his chest, his heart flutters when you press a delicate kiss to his bicep. He feels it and you can’t unfeel that.

“I’m sorry, Leon,” you get out through shaky moans as he sandwiches his shaft between your chubby pussy lips, bumping the tip into your clit as his hips move back and forth. “I’m sorry… Didn’t know-“

“It’s okay, baby.” He kisses behind your ear. “It’s alright ‘cause you know now, huh?”

“Yeah,” you agree tearfully, tilting your head so it rests on his broad chest, he gives your pout some wet kisses.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, hm, baby?” Leon nudges you with his nose.

Your idea of cleaning up might be far from what Leon’s is. He doesn’t think you were expecting something so extreme. But it’s for thinking you’re worth something— For thinking that anyone else would do as little as touch you. It’s to wash off that pitiful attempt at makeup.

He bends you in half over the tub. Your tits hang low enough to be squashed against the edge painfully as Leon dunks your head into lukewarm water. Holy shit. Tomorrow will be the day he overdoses. Why is he doing this?

A strangled noise passes your lips as he lets up, and you re-emerge, Leon wipes a hand over your face to rid you of the streaky mascara and sticky gloss.

“There we go, sweetheart, nice and clean.” He presses the tip into your leaking cunt, it catches on your hole, and you flail, water spilling over the edge, surface tension broken as it ripples.

Honest to god, Leon hasn’t fucked a pussy tighter than yours, and when he holds you beneath the surface? Man, you might deglove his dick. He works his cock into you, and when he’s balls deep in your sloppy cunt, Leon allows you to lift your head to which you pant and gasp and cough. All the shit a drowning person does when they’re tossed a lifesaver.

Your body sags, hanging limp with only Leon to hold you up as he roughly fucks in and out of your poor hole, heavy balls slapping against your skin.

“I love you, Leon,” you tell him, rubbing at your stinging nose with your fist, pussy tightening when he pinches your throbbing clit.

“Aw, do you, baby? You love me?” Leon laughs, the mean smile on his face hidden in your shoulder, “That’s so cute.” He rocks back and forth, shallow thrusts that are more for him than they are for you, rabbiting his dick into your squelching pussy until his balls pulse and his shaft twitches inside of you. “Real— Real fuckin’ cute,” he grits out as he buries himself to the hilt, shooting his load in your willing little pussy.

“I think so,” you whimper, thighs trembling as the knot in your stomach snaps and you coat his cock in your slick. Hey, his dick isn't a problem then.

Leon thinks about calling his shrink. The bad shit he does won’t fix itself like he wants. “Clean up,” he tells you, looking at the wet ground. The soaked rug. Your face.

“What… Leon, where are you going?” You use your palms to mop the excess water from your face. “Seriously, Leon? I just… I told you that…”

He has things to do - Leon’s going to call his shrink and very promptly throw himself over the balcony when she doesn’t answer his call.

[supernovafics]

Hi! I recently found your "I'll be there for you" universe and I love it.

I was wondering if you'd want to do a sick fic where reader gets a sudden fever/body aches/chills/so on and tries to shrug it off as no big deal even though it absolutely is and Steve, the ultimate caretaker he is, forgets all about his plans for the evening to stay in and take care of them. Thank you, have a great week!

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.7k words

warnings: explicit language, descriptions of sickness/being sick, brief mentions of parental neglect, mentions of weed, overall very soft and wholesome and cozy<3

summary: in which you and steve are sick on christmas 

author's note: thank u for the request !! when i started this series one of the first ideas i had was something where reader and steve are sick during the holidays so this request fit with that perfectly<33 i couldn't really figure out how to end this so it kinda just ends lmao

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1985

“This is your fault,” You told Steve as you sniffled.

“I know, I know,” He responded— he had been hearing your grumbling from the moment you woke up, so he was pretty much used to it by now. He walked over to where you were sitting on the couch and held out a capful of cough syrup for you to grab. “Here. Take this.” 

“Thank you,” You mumbled as you drank the medicine and then immediately went to grab your glass of water sitting on the coffee table because of how strong and bitter the cherry flavoring was. “Ugh.”

You now fully regretted that moment a few nights ago where you and Steve sat out on the fire escape and smoked weed in the freezing weather; an idea that had fully been Steve’s. It was fun in the moment, even though you could barely remember most of the conversation the two of you had, but a hint of a cold started building from the second you woke up that next morning and now it was at its worst. You currently had a stuffy nose and a horrible cough that gave you the shittiest headache. And after hours of laying in your bed and falling in and out of sleep, you finally decided to go out into the living room and complain to your best friend about how much you blamed him for your current sickness. 

“Can you pass me the blanket, please?” You asked, pointing to the one that was laying on the back of one of the dining table chairs; it was barely five feet away but you didn’t have it in you to move out of the comfortable position you found yourself in on the couch. 

“You become such a baby when you’re sick,” Steve told you with a roll of his eyes that you knew wasn’t serious as he handed you the knitted throw blanket, which you immediately wrapped around yourself after putting your water back down.

“Oh, whatever. I swear you’re always worse than me,” You said with your own eye roll; if he was closer to you, you would’ve given his arm a light smack. Your gaze moved upward, taking note of the time on the clock that hung on the wall above the television; it was a small round red clock that Steve had thrifted a few months ago. “Anyway, when are you heading to the Wheeler’s Christmas Eve party? Make sure you have fun for the both of us, and bring me back some of those gingerbread cookies that Karen makes.”

Steve sat next to you on the couch. “I’m not gonna go to the party.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in both surprise and confusion when you heard him say that because he loved going to that holiday party just as much as you did. All of the kids would be there as well as Robin and Eddie, and always at some point during the night, you all would end up migrating downstairs to the basement away from the real adults. The kids and Eddie would start playing D&D as you, Robin, and Steve sat on the sidelines watching the madness unfold. And then eventually the three of you would simply start playing random card games with Nancy and Jonathan. 

“I won’t be mad if you go. Jokingly, yes— I’ll probably pretend to be mad at you for going for the next few days. But, I’m not actually,” You told him and then sniffled again because you couldn’t help it.

“No, it’s okay,” He said as he leaned back on the couch. “I don’t wanna go without you.”

“You sure?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay, well, in that case,” You scooted closer to him on the couch and leaned your head on his shoulder. It was a position that never failed to comfort you, and you especially needed that in this moment where your body was telling you that you needed to sleep and the cough syrup you just took was making it easier to do so. “Thank you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You weren’t entirely sure how or when you ended up in your bed, but you were happy about it. It was now dark outside and the digital clock sitting on your nightstand told you that the time was only nine o’clock. 

You turned on your side and saw Steve next to you— head against one of your pillows, eyes shut, and lips slightly parted. It was a nice surprise seeing him asleep next to you, but you also knew that he probably shouldn’t be. 

You reached out and lightly poked his cheek a few times. His eyes slowly opened just for a second before closing again and he let out a soft, “Hm?”

“You’re gonna get sick too if you sleep here,” You told him. 

“I wanna stay close just in case you need something.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. “And you wonder why I act like a baby when I’m sick. It’s because you treat me like one.” 

“Well, someone has to.” Steve shrugged through his half-asleep daze and you knew exactly what he meant by his words. 

When you were younger, before you met him, you had gotten so used to taking care of yourself because your parents weren’t the type to do much; your dad was always on some sort of business trip and your mom was always busy working at her office. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time either of them gave you medicine or soup or even worried about you at all when you got sick. However, the day your parents met Steve’s on that cruise and it was discovered that you all lived in towns that were only twenty minutes away from one another, things changed— you and Steve started taking care of each other. 

In tenth grade when you got the flu, he spent his lunchtime every day that week driving to your house to check on you. And even though he hated school, he’d still go to yours and pick up your assignments from one of your friends, and he’d help you do most of them so you didn’t fall behind too much; most of it was wrong, but it was the thought that counted. And when he got sick last Summer, you spent every night at his house until he felt better. It was slightly funny because those four days led you to getting sick the next week, and it felt like that same thing was about to happen in this instance. 

“You saying that just reminded me that I need to call my mom and tell her that I can’t come to the Christmas brunch thing she set up with my Aunt and cousin,” You shifted a bit and pulled the blanket higher over you. “Now, I’m actually glad that I’m sick.” 

“I already called and told her while you were sleeping, but she didn’t really believe me, so yeah you should probably call her too,” Steve said, which made you laugh a bit.

“That’s actually not surprising. I’ll call in the morning,” You said and then yawned. “You don’t have to go to your parent’s tomorrow, right?”

“Nope, they’re in California for this business thing my dad has to be at.”

“Nice,” You responded with a small nod. “For some reason, I can’t remember the last time it was just you and me during Christmas.”

“Ninth grade,” Steve said with a small sleepy smile on his face and his eyes opened again. “My parents were out of town, and then yours had to leave too to do something last second. We had the great idea to set up the tent I got in sixth grade and camp out in my backyard.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said, laughing at the memory. “We got way too cold around one in the morning and decided to just sleep in front of the fireplace in the living room.” 

“I wish this place had a fireplace.”

“We can sleep in front of the radiator?”

Steve thought about your suggestion for a second before shaking his head. “Not the same.”

“Okay, that’s true,” You said with a quick nod before reaching beneath the blanket and lightly poking his t-shirt covered side. “Hey, do you remember what I got you that year?”

Steve immediately let out a laugh. “Yes, and I actually still have that Mickey Mouse poster.” 

You turned away from him then and covered your face with your hands. “Oh, God. No, you don’t. You’re kidding.”

“Yes, I do,” Steve said and you could practically hear the smile in his voice. “It’s rolled up in my closet. I would go grab it, but I’m too tired to move right now.”

You remembered exactly how excited you had been to give him that poster, which was supposed to be a really cool picture of one of his favorite basketball players, and the guy that you bought it from at the flea market even told you that it was signed. But when Steve pulled it out of the plastic and unrolled it in his living room on Christmas, instead of it being anywhere close to a photo of any basketball player, it was a picture of Mickey Mouse on a train.

“I’m still so embarrassed and mad that the sales guy at that flea market tricked me,” You said and sighed. You were still a little upset with yourself that you didn’t make him open up the poster and show it to you before you bought it, but he said that was “against the rules” since it was sealed in the plastic, and that reasoning had somewhat made sense to you. “And it’s not like I could try to return it or yell at him because the flea market was only here for a weekend.”

“Now that you’ve brought it up, I think we should hang the poster up in the living room. Maybe where the dining table is?” 

You turned to face Steve again. “I will never allow that to happen.”

“I guess I’ll just have to put it up when you fall asleep,” He said, and you ignored his overdramatic wince when you playfully punched his arm. “Do you remember what I got you for Christmas that year?” 

“Of course,” You nodded. You still had that silver bracelet he got you, and you were a thousand percent certain that you would keep it forever, even though now it just sat in your jewelry box because the clasp broke sometime last year. “I still can’t figure out how to fix that damn clasp.”

“I could just get you another one.”

“Not the same,” You told him with a quick shake of your head. “One day I’ll figure out how to fix it.”

“Okay,” He said and then brought up a different time that the two of you decided to try camping in his backyard, which was in the Summer and on a very warm night, but you and him still didn’t fully spend the night outside because there were too many bugs. 

You laughed at the memory as Steve talked about it now because it just reminded you that you and him were probably the least “outdoorsy” people ever, but somehow that never stopped either of you from trying to be. 

That was how the rest of the night went; reminiscing about more random stuff— memories from various moments of your friendship that always made you smile or laugh or even feel a little bit embarrassed— until both of you fell asleep again. And it wasn’t the biggest surprise when Steve woke up in the morning sniffling.

“I told you this would happen,” You said to him as you walked back to your bed, cough syrup in hand because you knew that he’d be needing it. You were actually feeling the tiniest bit better; still pretty bad but not as horrible as yesterday.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” He grumbled as he rubbed the tiredness out of his eyes and then sneezed.

“Here. Take this,” You said with a small smile, mimicking the same words he had said to you yesterday. 

“Our roles changed way too fast,” Steve said before drinking the capful of cough syrup. “I was supposed to be taking care of you, and now you’re the one taking care of me.”

“We’ll take shifts on who gets to be the more helpless one,” You told him amusingly. “Right now it’s your turn. Do you want some water?”

He nodded and you went to the kitchen to grab a bottle and then handed it over to him before you settled back in the bed. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A handful of hours passed, all of which marked the most boring Christmas you’d probably ever had; but you’d take this silence and sickness over a tense brunch with your mom any day.

You were reading a book and Steve was still asleep next to you, turned on his side and blanket covering his head. A knock on the front door pulled your focus away from the page you were in the middle of reading.

You really didn’t feel like getting out of bed to answer it, but you also didn’t want to wake Steve and make him go do it, so with a sigh, you closed your book and placed it on the nightstand and then walked out of your bedroom. You headed to the couch first to grab the knitted throw blanket and wrap it around your shoulders so that it covered your bare legs, and then you proceeded to answer the door. 

Miss Johnson, the sweet older woman that lived a few doors down, stood in front of you with a red and green plaid patterned tin of what you assumed were the Christmas cookies that she told you about the first time you met. When you and Steve moved into the building, she introduced herself on that first day and gave you a welcome basket of muffins that were probably the best muffins that both you and Steve had ever had, and she also mentioned that for the holidays she gave out cookies to people in the building.  

She smiled at you for a brief second before a surprised look crossed her face. “Hi– Oh, you look terrible. What happened?”

Somehow the brutal honesty actually felt more sweet and worried than rude; and it warmed your heart and simultaneously hurt it so fucking bad that she was the only older adult in your life that actually seemed to care. 

You let out a small cough. “Me and Steve are sick right now. Just a cold.”

“Oh no, that stinks,” She said with a frown, and then held the tin out toward you. “Here take these cookies and I’ll be right back. Let me go make you both some soup.”

You grabbed the tin and smiled at her. “Thank you so much for the cookies, but you don’t have to make us soup.” 

In all honesty, you would’ve loved soup at that moment because you and Steve hadn’t eaten all day aside from the two slices of buttered toast that he made around noon, since neither of you could really be bothered to make anything else. But, Miss Johnson had already made the cookies for you two, so you felt bad about her also doing this for you and Steve. 

She shook her head at you. “No, no, it’s not a problem at all. I know I already have all of the ingredients, so it’ll just take me fifteen minutes, twenty tops.”

You were about to assure her again that she really didn’t have to do that, but she was already walking away and heading back down the hall before any word could leave your mouth. 

There was something about the gesture that felt way too sweet and nice, and it made you wish that you had someone like her in your life when you were younger. And then that thought made you feel so fucking grateful that for the past almost ten years, you had Steve. 

You placed the cookie tin on the kitchen counter and then tightened your blanket around you. You could see from the large window that led out to the fire escape that the sun was beginning to set, and as you got closer and peaked below at the street, you saw that some snow still lingered on the ground from when it came down a few days ago; the same night that you and Steve sat out on the fire escape.

The sudden sound of Steve saying, “Please don’t go out there. I don’t wanna repeat this sick cycle,” made you turn around and look at your best friend. He had slipped on a hoodie, which was yours (although back in high school it technically had been his), and his hair was the messiest you’d seen it in a while, and that let you know exactly how bad he was probably feeling right then. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going out there without an actual jacket anytime soon.”

“Okay, good,” He yawned and then smiled when he saw what was on the counter. “Miss Johnson brought the cookies?”

“Yes,” You said, walking back to the kitchen and watching as Steve opened up the tin. There were at least a dozen cookies in it; a mixture of Christmas trees, Santa Clauses, and snowflakes. “She also went to go make us soup since we’re sick.”

“She’s way too nice to us,” Steve said and grabbed one of the Santa Claus cookies.

“I agree,” You told him, deciding to grab a snowflake cookie for yourself. “Meanwhile, we’re horrible people and didn’t even think about getting her something for Christmas. Once we’re better we have to get her something.”

“Yeah. We can get her a nice sweater or cardigan,” Steve said, and you nodded at that suggestion; whenever either of you saw Miss Johnson she was almost always wearing some sort of fun and colorful cardigan so that idea felt right. He took another bite of the cookie in his hand and then looked at you. “Will this ruin our appetite?”

“Considering the fact that we’ve barely had anything to eat today since we’ve felt so shitty, I don’t think that there’s really an appetite to ruin.”

“Very true.”

The two of you migrated to the couch, bringing the cookie tin along with you, and mindlessly watched the Charlie Brown Christmas special that played on television as you ate some more cookies. 

When there was another knock on the door twenty minutes later, right as the Charlie Brown episode ended, you looked at Steve and pulled your legs off his lap. “Your turn to get it.” 

He nodded and got up, running a quick hand through his hair, which didn’t really do much to tame it, before opening the door. 

“Hi, Miss Johnson,” Steve said, and even though he was facing away from you, you could hear the smile in his voice. He received a smile back as she handed him a full tupperware of soup. “Thank you. You really didn’t have to make this for us.”

“It’s really no problem. I hope you two feel better soon,” She responded. “And also here are some tea bags. You guys should be drinking that too.” 

You watched as she put a few in Steve’s free hand. Neither you nor him really liked tea, but you weren’t about to tell Miss Johnson that when she was being so damn nice and thoughtful. 

“Thank you so much,” You said from the couch and smiled at her. “Also, we’ve already tried some of the cookies and they’re amazing.”

“Just wait until you try the chocolates I make for Valentine’s Day,” She said and you smiled even wider at that. 

“Can’t wait.”

She said her final goodbyes and headed back down the hall to her apartment after telling you both that you could knock on her door if you needed anything; more soup, medicine, etc. And that offer, which sounded completely genuine, only further confirmed the fact that you and Steve definitely needed to get her a gift as soon as possible. 

Steve pulled two bowls out of one of the cabinets and split the soup, which you then learned was chicken noodle, evenly in both of them and then handed one over to you. 

“Thanks,” You said as he also gave you a spoon and then sat down on the couch again. 

He took control of the TV remote and you didn’t argue when he stopped on a channel that was playing a James Bond movie. After finishing your soup, you maneuvered around so that you were laying down and your head was in his lap and you fell asleep just like that. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Another set of hours passed, although you were unaware of exactly how many. You were woken up by the feeling of Steve softly stroking your ear; which he knew would always either annoy you or make you laugh because of how much it tickled— most of the time it was both. This time was no different. 

You were laughing as you shooed his hand away. “Stop that.”

“I needed to wake you up.”

You looked up at him and rubbed your eyes. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten.”

You nodded at his answer and then suddenly realized through your half asleep daze why he decided to wake you right then. “Oh, we have to open the presents.”

From that very first Christmas you spent together, it was agreed upon that you would do your gift exchange at night— once you both were done being stuck all day with your parents and other family members that you never saw any other time of the year. 

You’d sneak off to his house once those family members were gone and your parents were asleep, or he’d come to yours, and then you’d exchange gifts and almost always end up talking about nothing until the morning. 

You sat up. “I’m just now realizing that we could’ve done it earlier today.”

“Yeah, but that would’ve broken the tradition,” Steve said and you agreed with that, there was something about always doing the gift exchange at night that felt like the only way to do it at this point.

You went into your bedroom and grabbed Steve’s present that you had stashed away in your closet. When you left your room, you saw that he was already sitting next to the small Christmas tree that sat lit up in the corner close by the window and he was holding what you rightly assumed was your gift from him. 

The tree was so small that it didn’t make sense to put gifts under it, so that was why you kept the one you got for Steve in your room and he had yours in his. The only things that did sit next to the tree and slightly under it were the little presents that you both got for Harold the Hamster. 

“Merry Christmas, Stevie,” You said, sitting down next to him and giving him his gift. He let out a laugh when he noticed that the green wrapping paper had pictures of polar bears wearing Santa hats on it— when you had seen it weeks ago at the store, you thought it was adorably funny and knew you had to get it.

He handed over the gift he got you and the sight of his messy wrapping job made you smile. “Merry Christmas.” 

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A happy yelp emitted from your lips when you saw the vinyl of The Breakfast Club soundtrack. It was quite literally the perfect gift— you had held the tape of the movie that you rented from Steve’s Family Video hostage for a month straight when they first got it in, and sometimes you’d watch the movie just to hear the songs.

“After how many times you watched the movie this year, this felt very fitting,” Steve told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the red bow that was placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at him and smiled. “I hope you’re prepared to hear this at least three times a week for the next few months.” 

He laughed a bit. “I knew you were going to say that, and I’ve already accepted the fact that I will have to hear Don’t You Forget About Me on an endless loop for a while.” 

“Good,” You said, still smiling, and then you bumped your knee with his. “Open yours.”

Steve finally started opening your gift for him, tearing the wrapping paper off to reveal a shoebox, which had a new pair of white Nikes inside. They were the same as the pair he already had that had the red “swoosh” on the side, but that pair was now a lot less white since he had them since Sophomore year of high school and he’d wear them almost religiously. 

“It’s time to retire the ones you’ve had for the past three years,” You said as he pulled out one of the sneakers. “Oh, also, there’s a note at the bottom of the box.” 

Steve put the one sneaker down and then grabbed the small notecard with your handwriting on it that was buried underneath the other one. “‘This is long overdue. You probably should’ve gotten rid of your last pair after the basketball season ended Senior year. And speaking of basketball, after your many years of begging and pleading I will finally grant your wish and play basketball with you. You’re welcome. Shit, I already regret writing this.’” He looked at you, a smile growing on his face. “You’re serious?” 

“Sadly, yes,” You answered, and when he smiled wider, you said, “It’s only gonna happen one time and just for a couple of hours, and if I break my leg or arm or anything else during this, I will sue you, Harrington.” 

You had two left feet when it came to any sort of sport— in a way, it was funny how clumsy you’d get whenever you had to play anything— and Steve knew that, but for perhaps the entirety of your friendship he still always tried to convince you to play basketball with him, and you always said no because why would you ever do something that you knew would only lead to embarrassment? Even if it was just with your best friend. He’d seen more than enough of your accidental embarrassing moments, and in your mind there was no need for him to also see one that could easily be avoided. 

But, you knew that finally doing this would make him happy, and that made your imminent embarrassment feel somewhat worth it.

“You’re not gonna break anything, but if you do, I’ll completely understand if you decide to sue me,” Steve said and you could hear the joking undertones in his voice. “So, when can we play?”

“You can choose the day, but please wait until we’re not sick and when it’s not freezing cold outside.” 

He nodded at that. “Okay, deal.”

“What did you get Harold?” You asked as you picked up the present next to the tree that Steve had wrapped.

“A new wheel,” He answered and that made you laugh.

“I also got him a new wheel.”

It actually wasn’t entirely surprising that you and Steve had the same gift idea. You two loved Harold with your entire hearts, but at least twice a week he’d wake one or both of you up at three in the morning by running on the current wheel he had, which was the squeakiest thing in the world.

Steve looked over at where Harold’s cage sat on the coffee table in the living room area. “Maybe he’ll like having two.” 

“Yeah,” You nodded. “Maybe he’ll designate one for daytime running and the other for nighttime running.”

Steve smiled at your joking statement. “Exactly.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[geckoomoria]

Best friends older brother! Anakin x reader Drabble

fluff with some kissing, touching and stuff like that😇

( i have no idea who came up with the bsf anakin idea i read it somewhere , so plspls let me know and ill give credit !!)

also GB/N stands for girl bsf name.

-------------------------★-----------------------

Friday August 15th

approx 9:25pm

“ANI IF YOU DONT PLACE EM RIGHT , THEYLL BE RUINED” you whine as your (secret) boyfriend wasn’t putting his back into making the dessert you two planned for the movie night as much as you were.

Anakin places cookie blobs on the tray and you shape them to look like actual cookies

“How the fuck do you place it wrong, its just putting them on the tray ” he replies countering your complaint about his skills at baking.

“ugh you don- back up back up, i’ll do it myself. You just sit there and look pretty” you huff and push him to sit on the stool that overlooks the kitchen table.

“see now THAT i can do just perfectly” Anakin winks and lets out a chuckle at his own comment as he sits down on the stool.

as the two of you stay in the kitchen , placing the tray of cookies into the oven , a call comes from your home phone.

You pick up the phone but dont answer , looking at the name you hesitate to answer. The ringing echos for a few minutes, “whats wrong? who is it?” Anakin asks curiously.

“its uh- its GB/N” , He stares at you softly understanding your hesitation. “what do i tell her if she asks where i am?”

he comes up with the excuse of “just say your busy thats all” , nodding at his idea you answer the phone.

“Hey whats up?” , “ah nothing much , just wanted to see if your free. are you?”. “not tonight sorry GB/N, got tons of homework.”

Anakin smirks at your excuse of doing “so much homework”. Suddenly an idea springs into his head, he makes his way behind you and starts cleaning up the baking supplies, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

“ah its alright , we’ll go out another night. Man how is everyone busy but me!? even Anakin went out at 5 and still isn’t back!”

“Anakin still isn’t back and he left at 5? i wonder where he could be” you say trying to make it sound like you dont have a clue where he could be.

This was his moment.

Anakins arm snakes around your waist and travels your whole body , the sudden touch makes you gasp but right away you shut up to avoid suspicions.

“what happened?? why’d you gasp?” she asks on the other side of the phone. You clear your throat and let him continue with his little ruse.

“uh- umm nothing , sorry thought i saw a spider. it was just a piece of lint” you say sounding unsure but you could care less anyways. Anakin was distracting you too much.

His deep chuckle is heard prominently from your other ear as he rests his head on that shoulder.

“ew , but yeah Anakin’s still not back! he said he had some important business to attend to but that just makes him sound like a serial killer” she replies.

Absolutely none of her words registered properly into your head because Anakin kept going on with his little game. His giant arms travelled down to your thighs and just teasing your inner thighs as he takes his thumbs and gently grazes it back and forth.

His lips kiss your neck from behind , slow and one kiss at a time, making you yearn for more on the inside.

“i- i uh wouldn- wouldnt worry much abo- about him. He’s a ye-year old-older thannn uss so he-hes doing teenage boy th-things” you stumble on your words barley able to form a proper sentence. How could you? you were so drunk on Anakin. You needed him more than anything but you couldn’t blow your cover, not this early to your GB/N.

“are you sure your okay?” you sound really out of it” she questions your odd behaviour, concerned about what’s possibly going on , on the other side of the phone.

Anakin takes his sisters suspicions as a loud ringing bell that tells him to continue. His arms move from your upper thighs to inside your shirt. His hands move to your bra and fiddle with the outline of it

“ye-yeah , im uh perfect-ly fine” You gulp half way through what you could finish of that sentence.

“are you absolutely sure cau- i think im not feeling well. ill talk to you tomorrow after i get some sleep?”

You cut her off because you genuinely cant deal with the embarrassment of trying not to make it sound like your enjoying your boyfriend who happens to be her older brother straight up groping you right now

“yeah yeah sounds good , get some rest N/N. love you” , “yeah goodnight , Love you too”.

The call ends and you immediately (attempt to) smack Anakin on the head

“Ani! what the hell was that for. were you trying to get us in trouble ??” you scold the brown haired male for his antics. “At this point i dont care if the world knew we’re together, God i cant stop myself from being near you N/N”

“you dont mean that Anakin” you weakly say as you turn around and look down from his gaze.

Even though you two always liked it each other secretly and then finally fessed up not that long ago. You still had doubts about your relationship and Anakin has tried everything he could to prove himself. Its not that you dont trust him, its that you feel unsure about the whole sneaking around thing.

He pushes your chin up with two fingers “of course i do. i always have meant it” he sternly claims as he presses his forehead against yours.

the two of you stay quiet for a moment.

“Maybe soon okay? i just need to figure out how to tell her” you propose meekly to Anakin hoping he’ll be okay with it, “whenever your ready baby.” he replies with ease.

You couldn’t believe your dating the most perfect man of all time. The man only poets write about , the man women fawn over and men get intimidated of. The man of your dreams is holding you in his arms reassuring you of anything you want.

its a dream come true.

You pull back from the forehead touching and lean in for a deep kiss with him. Nothing could pull you two apart, not now and not ever.

Ding!

well except for the oven and the cookies you two made.

-------------------------★-----------------------

why was this acc so long omg.

i hope u liked ittt my babes💕

PLEADE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD LEAVE THINGS JN MY LITTLE QUESTION BOX ANYTHING I NEED SOME SORT OF NOTICE THAT YOUR THERE.

also follow meee , i followw backk🥲

[patentedsun]

You guys I'm actually crying over chapter 204.5 (which is technically an ad for a certain company we're all boycotting btw) but ignoring the actual ad THE STORYLINE WAS SO??? GOOD???? the Natsu characterization in this was INCREDIBLE (be prepared for intense 100yq hatred) and it portrayed exactly why I fell in love with nalu in the first place....

Summary and analysis below (doesn't incl all the pages btw!!)

We start off with Lucy finding Natsu and Happy at her place, as always.

this is followed by him being like "do you think we'll peek or something" which... 100yq natsu would have... that IMPOSTER...

Anyways while she's taking a bath, Natsu and Happy are browsing around Lucy's room and find a book that stands out. (Btw right next to this book is her diary, 100yq natsu would've gone straight for that). However they end up accidentally destroying it and start panicking. They ask Lucy if they can "borrow it" and Lucy panics at first, saying it's precious and not to touch it, but relents when they say they found it "interesting".

fast forward, we see them worn out after trying and failing to find a replacement copy. ONCE AGAIN, they're doing this because it's something precious to LUCY. Not because they care about reading, or because the book has any value to them, but because they understand it's important to HER. Natsu (and Happy) going the extra mile for things that are important to Lucy is SUCH AN IMPORTANT PART of their entire dynamic.

continuing, Lucy walks into the guild and asks how they're finding the book, they say it's interesting. Lucy gets SUPER EXCITED ABOUT THIS and starts talking non stop ab the book. Happy asks her why this book is so important to her and...

Y I K E S.

So yeah, they ultimately decide that lying isn't it and they should apologize upfront.

this is so beautiful to me, idk like the imagery of them bowing so sincerely is so.... and like wow MASHIMA seems like natsu IS capable of acknowledging his own wrongdoings and offering genuine apologies. I'm not even talking ab the whole post tartaros situation no, I'm talking about fucking 100yq, where natsu actually physically hurts Lucy and doesn't apologize for it (AND IN FACT ITS PLAYED FOR A GAG)(IMPOSTER!!! NOT MY NATSU!!!)

Soooo Lucy doesn't take it well and runs away.

the fact that they didn't stop their search here. the fact that they EXPANDED it to other towns to try and find her the book THIS IS JUST <3333

Anyways, Lucy returns and reveals dozens of copies of the book...

My heart actually broke for her here because as someone who ig creates stuff as well, it really can be painful to have no audience interaction. And to have a book you wrote bomb like that...ouch... and of course she would've been excited, her best friends told her they found it interesting!!! my HEART. OUCH. and the sheer guilt on Natsu and Happy's faces here 😭 Once again, 100yq would've played this off for a gag...

And they all start bawling (and the ad comes in so I will stop there) but YEAH. THIS WAS SO BEAUTIFUL??? The way she's regretful too, the way they're still trying to apologize and make her feel better I'm :(. This is what makes nalu work and it feels like mashima is forgetting that ab his own work... they're both genuinely good and kind to each other... like not to get sidetracked but there has always been goofy fanservice moments but there were also so many wonderful, emotional, complex scenes with them with depth and maturity and I just feel like that's lacking now. So reading this was like getting punched in the face srsly because wow... THIS is the natsu I know and love ugh .....

[kazehita]

hi! i noticed your recent post recommending the fic natural satellite and i think i've noticed other isat fics around your blog too. because of that, i was wondering if you had a list of recommended isat fics! i will admit i am not someone who just peruses around on ao3 but i love reading about these characters so if you have any recs, i would greatly appreciate them! thanks and i hope you have a lovely day :3

I love ALL isat fic - each and every one is so special and wonderful - but if I listed the whole archive that wouldn't really help huh... So! Im going to list just some off the top of my head., this is in no way definitive. Isat spoilers ahead - get all the way through the game and the secret before proceeding.

Big recommendation list below:

Additionally, mind the tags for each fic - I wont be specifying the content warnings here.

(don't just read the complete ones!!! Incomplete fic is just as delightful I promise :3)

Complete: Bloom - Level99Eevee Most people know it, it sits at the top of the tag! It's my every wish fulfilled for post-cannon moments.

Memories of defeat - dirtbagtrashcat Stuff in and immediately after the loops, fantastic extrapolations!!!! Very much Loop <33 I find this very grounded and realistic!!!!

Emotion Sickness - dirtbagtrashcat Post cannon fun/trauma with siffrin and the gang.

Memories of Touch - dirtbagtrashcat look i just really like their work sjkdjkfjkasdf its all good go through their profile. This is Isa thoughts.

And if I were not myself, would this be easier? - rabbit_soup Post-game! I love how they flesh out the world.

The Understudy - kittyorange Suuuuch a loop fic I love it to bits. Post cannon loop and the gang stuff.

Star-Speckled Skin - Lora_Blackmane Funn angsty moment, title is very descriptive. Lives in my head rent free.

Clinging to dying embers - Coffeewolf67 Odile's perspective of sif using the dagger. appropriate content warnings apply :)

between the end and a new start - glowingjellyfishtreelights SICKFICCC I had a very funny experience with this one where due to memory mishaps I got to read it for the first time twice! Absolute banger.

What's in a name? - Raaj Explores siffrins love of plays. I have to regularly reread this for my brain to function.

Starstruck - Dusk_Illusionist Isa yearns. The fic. It rocks.

Saturn Devouring His Son (Time Choking on Stone Choking on Blood)- BasilPaste Post cannon moment... I like it...

(Why) you can't let them know by Mayasynth sasasap fic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i like it. i hold it. i like it. UGH theres more but I have already listed so many.. my other favorites... im so sorry.,.. i love you guys too... Incomplete:

How To Rest by rabbit_soup Sequel to "And if i were not myself, would this be easier?" Loop is here and I love violence.

TRY IT AGAIN, CHEATER! by discatded "[Loop returns to their own universe after everything. It's hard.]" - from the summary. Love it love it. I will never get enough of this premise.

To Extend our Reach to the Stars Above by Cinnamin_Is_a_Star "Sif if he was team rocket" and is so fun. Very excited to see this one pan out!

until we move on. by Anonymous (also known as lozy) LOOP MY BELOVED..! loop returns to their universe and promptly looses it like the universe intended. Cant get enough of it.

Natural Satellite by dirtbagtrashcat If a single fic makes me the Most insane its natural satellite if I'm honest.... like bro... It just gets right to me...

Sunder by Miranda_tries_their_best Post-cannon Loop fic!! They travel on their own for a bit (but not forever), and I love it dearly.

Face the Light by Kaimiiru Post-game, I hold it close to my heart.... Ah... It's so dear to me.

These next two are sloop so if that's not your thing you have been warned :]

raconte-moi qu’on puisse crier tout bas by bibliomaniac I'm holding this high above my head so everyone can see it the characterization is off the charts.

To Cut You Open With a Knife and Find Your Sacred Heart by Hexea_Art Changeling Loop fic!! What a fun concept. I am excited to see where it goes. yay! AGAIN... THERE ARE SO MANY I LOVE SO MUCH but im forcing myself not to look through the tag else I'd add everything. Honestly, I do recommend just launching right on into the ao3 tag for ISAT even if you aren't super familiar with ao3. Just be sure to filter out anything you don't want to see!

Consider this a good starting point ^^

[teenandbeyond]

Yautja x Fem.Reader

Edit: I see someone wants a part two, if ya'll get this to 200 notes by next Saturday, I'll totally do it. I'll give ya a little extra if you make it to any number higher than that, even by one. *genuinely intrigued about how this'll go* Edit 2: Here it is babes, Part 2, Part 3

I hear people are looking for this so, here. Also, this is my shitty attempt at a dark fic, because I wanna try one--even though it's faaaar from my regular style, I'm far from a darkfic writer, but I like challenges-- and it seems many people have been craving a dark fic of Yautja more than not, so I'll hopefully help y'all out (I wrote this when I was sleepy so idk how it was). *puts all smutty writing experience into this*

Want more from me? Ask or check out my Masterlist!

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Breed (Predator)

Warning(s): Probably the smuttiest smut I've ever smutted, noncon details, breeding, rough, unprotected, a creamy little pie, size difference, triggers (so do not read if they apply to you), this turned long asf.

You survive with a Predator who killed all of your friends...but it seems the Yautja have taken an interest in you and don't plan to let you leave...

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You groan out, tossing your head to the side.

What makes you realize you aren't in your bed is a few things.

There's an echo.

It feels like you're laying on a hard table.

Your wrists are bound to your chest.

Your ankles are weighed down by something heavy, which after moving around your toes you realize are cuffs connected by a chain, where most of the weight came from.

And most importantly, you can't see, you noticed as your lashes fluttered against a cloth.

"Where am I?"

"Above earth," an amused, disembodied voice responds.

A familiar voice, one of your friends.

"Ester...? I thought you died..."

"What you didn't see didn't happen."

"Hey, can you take this stuff off me?" you grunted as moved to shift your arms to no avail.

"Why would I do that? I put you there."

Your brows furrowed, "What?"

"You see. That whole thing was a setup, I was working with them this whole time."

"But why? They killed your friends! Our friends!"

She chuckled, "Oh, that's what you believed. I was just doing my job to survive. To find them the perfect specimen."

You grunted as you struggled and failed to loosen your restraints.

"You see, they've been for years, creating more advanced creatures to hunt. They've already tried to with another species, Xenomorphs--the ones that spit acid. But they wondered if they could try such a thing with humans..."

Your blood ran cold, "Please don't tell me..."

"They realized they could, they hunted for the perfect human, one who possessed certain genes that had a high percentage of handling a Yautja seed. And when one wanted to kill me after hunting all my allies a few years ago, I offered to do anything. Now I've found you."

"So-ugh--then what? They're just gonna let you go?"

"Well, my part of the deal is finished. There's no other use for me."

"Exactly, idiot," you muttered.

Suddenly you heard a loud thumping sound.

"Ah, here they come."

You moan in despair as you try to move, the cold metal biting against your ankles, "This is hopeless."

"Here's the human you left with, she's perfect, she's worthy of you due to her survival."

Yes, you remember.

Suddenly you found yourself helpless, the two...Xenomorphs you supposed, had terrorized your college class during your international trip to the Daintree Rainforest.

The other creature--the...Yautja had killed a few security guards and three of your friends. As you grew to understand this Predator, you realized it only killed something that seemed to be a challenge, everyone that was killed by it had a weapon at some point.

But you, you're a tough one. You survived, and the Yautja gave you weapons to aid it, you managed to kill a Xenomorph on your own.

You had enough education about tribal tradition to know when it smeared some of its excruciatingly burning blood on you, it found you worthy in a sense.

Or he, since as far as you know most creatures bred with the opposite sex.

"I can leave now, right? If you want I can tell you where I can be dropped off," Ester happily spoke up.

You heard a familiar sound slice through the air, his weapon.

"W-wait...what are you doing? I did what you--what you asked...No! No! No-!"

You heard a body thump and a strong smell of blood fill the air, you knew the smell with little effort after the last two days.

There was some shuffling, you guessed she was being dragged away to be dumped by another one of them.

Then the thumping footsteps started up again, getting closer. Until he stood next to your... examination table.

You tried to shift away, not being able to do much but hold yourself up and not fall halfway off the edge. Only for your arms to get tugged and move you back to the more comfortable position.

"Please...I can't--I can't provide you with anything."

You jumped as you felt a nail trail down your jaw before a scaly hand--that was still surprisingly smoother than you expected--gripped your chin, twisting your head left and right.

You couldn't help the shiver that ran down your spine.

A thumb brushed against the acid mark he gave you on your cheek.

The only sound you heard was a sharp grunt, in disapproval or satisfaction, you didn't know.

His thumb dragged across your lips before his hand went lower...

You stiffened when the wandering hand paused, before yelping at the sound of a blade moving through the air.

He slowly sliced through your long-sleeved shirt and bra, your breath hitched as you felt the cold metal graze your skin. If there was any more pressure, he would've sliced you open.

You let out a breathless sigh as the restricting bra released you. You hated bras sometimes.

You could feel him move and tried to shift away, only for him to catch you by your neck and slide you back into the position you were in.

With a quivering lip, you felt curious hands explore your breasts.

"Please, just let me go..."

You bit your lip at an experimental squeeze.

You couldn't seriously be reacting to this? Could you?

But when you felt something brush against your sensitive bud...

Your breathing skipped.

Another pause, before it was tested again.

Your hands tightened into fists.

Then without warning, he relentlessly rolled the hardened bud between his fingers.

With a whine, you tried to move away, only for his grip on your neck to tighten.

You tried to keep as much self-control as you could, but that changed a few minutes later when his hand moved, your stomach jumping as it came and went and stiffening as the hand stopped at the band of your pants.

"Please...don't..." you desperately pleaded.

There are a few seconds of dragging his thumb back and forth against your hip, as if deciding, but ultimately tearing it all off in one motion.

You squealed at suddenly being exposed, trying to clench your thighs together.

He denied you of this, effortlessly opening your thighs to expose for him to fully see.

You decided to be defiant as you felt him shift onto the table.

"This is--isn't going to work. Humans and Aliens aren't going to be able to--do this," you tried to move your legs, the heavy chain helping you none, "I'm not even remotely aroused--"

He interrupted you as you felt him lean closer to your wetness, feeling his breath hit the sensitive area.

The clicking sound he made almost sounded amused, before making you gasp as he rubbed a curious finger against you.

"Mm--stop--you--you can't--!"

Shuddering as a finger slid into you, you attempted to wriggle out of his hold. Only for his grip to tighten a little more, at this point, he was definitely warning you.

You felt embarrassed by the light squelching sound you heard. At least you didn't have to see.

Then two more were added.

"I can't--that's too much!" you cried out.

But when his wrist brushed against your cilt, your body completely surrendered.

He realized how greatly that affected you and decided to continue learning.

With a shaky breath, you desperately tried to hold back. Tried to deny your body's pleasure with your mind.

You clenched your thighs together at an attempt to stop his hand, but all it seemed to do was piss him off and force your legs apart, his originally slow and curious pace becoming rougher.

You bit your lip hard, keeping in any sounds.

But in the end, your body betrayed you, and with a long whine and bucking hips, you released.

He pulled his hand away and for a moment you thought he was done for now.

Until you felt something rubbing against you, something you could tell already wouldn't fit.

"That's not gonna--!"

You whimpered as he effortlessly slid in with a gravelly groan, the stretch stung.

"It's not gunna--It's not gunna...Take it out...."

Your head thumped back onto the table.

Without a break in movement, he kept moving, the chain connecting your ankles lightly clinking.

You let out a little sob as you bit your lip, you didn't know if it was from the violation or the pleasure, possibly both.

Every time he thrust forward, you could feel the stretch.

"It's gunna...gunna..."

He slid his hand up your throat just enough to push down the lip your teeth dug into with an index finger.

He wanted to hear you.

But with defiance, you swallowed every sound you made.

Until the speed changed, the cold metal rubbing against your back from the table, a stark contrast to the heat you felt.

Finally, he started getting little sounds out of you, whimpers, pleads.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you empty, before easily moving the weighted chain that felt like a ton to you and flipping you over on your knees.

You winced as your face smacked into the table. Your arms still bound in front of you.

You groaned into the metal as he completely filled you again.

As he moved, you felt more force behind each thrust.

"I can't--It's too--too much-ah!"

He slammed harder, which made you try to cushion your face.

Your heard a few sharp grunts, yet not of effort, which didn't surprise you. You were probably a warm-up.

Your body gently quivered from the force.

And the chains loudly clinked in time with him.

"I--Mm--hah--Lemme..."

Combing his fingers into your hair, he tugged you back, landing seated in his lap.

He sat motionless for a few seconds, a throaty groan was let out.

You made one last attempt to wriggle away.

And you think that made him completely snap from annoyance.

And you knew this because when he moved again, it was like he'd decided to completely destroy you.

With roughness you never experienced before, a deepness you never felt, a speed you didn't know was possible, he pounded into you at least a few times before your skin even slapped against his again.

And it seemed he was satisfied, every sound you hid before was milked out until you couldn't even process where you were anymore.

All you could feel was him, the pleasure, that stretch, all you could hear was the squelching of your wetness.

Your mouth couldn't even close anymore, completely drunk off him.

Your thighs shook terribly, barely able to handle him.

And you wouldn't even be surprised if he still went easy on you.

You were close.

When he tightened his grip, cutting off your breathing that was it.

Your hips bucked wildly as you released for the second time, a long moan ripping out of you.

Clenching around him so deliciously made him follow after. Filling you to the brim, and dripping down his length.

You sighed, as you began to settle only to whimper when you realized...

He wasn't done yet.

[st0nesnglitter]

Hey, I just read your “truth or dare” smut with Sirius and loved it, that is pure art. I was wondering if you could write another smut with Sirius being very dominant and having a size kink and lots of degradation, if you feel comfortable, of course. Thanksss

SIZE KINK!!!!!! Ugh I’m a whore for size kinks

A/N: this is absolutely not my best work, my writing is a little rusty. But at least it’s meaty so hopefully you’ll like some part!

Word count: 3.7k

Ever since the night of the game Sirius had become more affectionate. You discussed what your friendship meant to each other and agreed to take it slow, not labeling it and letting it grow in its own pace.

But with the addition of a sexual relationship on top of friendship he has been paying you a lot more attention, being more touchy and you feared that the rest of the group had caught on. So in your mind, to try and lure off any suspicions, you had to be more flirty to the other Marauders. And as a similar night as the night of truth or dare was beginning to form you opted to sit next to Remus instead of Sirius.

“Wait, so are you meant to drink if you have done it or if you haven’t?” Lily slurred before reaching over to Peter to grab the joint floating around.

“If you have done it,” James explained, again, “but I think we should just say stuff, we don’t have to have done it to say it, y’know?”

“Okay does everyone get it?” Remus asked, ever the organizer, “drink if you’ve done it, say anything you can think of”.

The game started rather slow, people getting up to fetch things and to refill cups, but as the game progressed and the questions got juicier the players got more stagnant.

“Okay, never have I ever… slept with more than three people in a week?” Morcas asked, slowly scanning the crowd.

You didn’t really expect anyone to drink but as your eyes fell on Sirius you saw him take a sip. A pit formed in your stomach as you thought about the question. You knew he had a salacious history, certainly more extensive than yours, but you didn’t really want to think of it. The confidence you’ve built up during your sexual escapades with Sirius slowly crumbled as your thoughts ran away from you.

“I’ve got one! Never have I ever had a threesome?” Marlene asked with a wicked smile.

Lily raised her cup to her lips, as did James and they shared a giggle. The attention was directed toward them as people exclaimed and tried to get some more details as Sirius took another drink. You saw it, eyes slowly meeting his and you saw his eyebrow move towards each other in silent questioning.

You felt yourself shrink, averting your eyes and trying to focus on the ruckus that James created around the threesome. In the chaos the game kind of slipped everyones minds and sub-groups started to form around the room. You decided to top off your drink by the table where Remus stood, slightly leaning, mixing his own drink.

“Hey darling” Remus handed you some lemon juice for your drink.

“Hi Remmy” you mumbled and taste tested your little creation, scrunching your nose at the foul taste.

Remus chuckled at your reaction, “not tasty?”

You shook your head and looked up at him. In your peripheral vision you saw Sirius looking toward you. The pit in your stomach from earlier returned, and defiance grew in your body. If Sirius was so flirty and promiscuous, you could be too. Your hand found its way to Remus’ forearm, letting your fingers trace upwards.

“I just can’t get the mix right, your always turn out so tasty” you said, words slightly slurred from equal parts attempted sultriness and equal part intoxication.

Rem chuckled and turned around so he could get a fresh cup and started mixing a new drink. As he worked Lily and Marlene came up to the table.

”Surprised to see you over here” Marlene snickered and reached for a candy from the big bowl.

Your brows furrowed and looked up with a tilted head, obviously confused.

“What do you mean?” You said as Remus handed you your new drink. With just a glance down you knew that it was better than the one you’d mix.

“Just figured you’d be over by Sirius” she replied with a slight twinkle.

As the words reached your inebriated mind your face heated up to a couple thousand degrees. The worry of not having been slick was confirmed and you took a breath to conjure up a plan before replying with a smile.

“Oh no, not when Remmy looks this good” you murmured, sliding your hand over the lycanthropes bicep.

He looked down at you with a smirk and leaned over to place a kiss on your head.

“Well I’m flattered, darling”.

Marlene and Lily shared a look before walking away, mumbling to themselves about whatever. Remus turned to you again and smiled.

“So have you and Sirius stopped fucking or what?”

The question came at you like a couple hundred bees and you have to take second to realize he actually said that.

“Oh come on sweetheart, Sirius and I know everything about each other, you had to know he told me, right?” He said and his smile fell slightly.

“I-I just thought we were, y’know, secret” you mumbled and took a sip for courage. Remus let out a chuckle.

“You wanna be secret? Cause it’s pretty obvious, for everyone” he said over his cup and let his eyes sweep over the room as to prove his point. You let your gaze follow his before taking a step closer.

“Well, that’s kinda why I’ve been around you tonight” you started, quickly taking another swig, “ wanted to throw people off the scent”.

Remus’ face cracked up into a bright smile and let out a chuckle.

“Or are you tryna get him jealous?”

The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind before. He got you jealous during the game, why not retaliate?

“Want my help sweetheart?” Remus asked with a smirk, seeing your thought process like a movie outside your head.

You threw a glance over at Sirius who sat over by James, who had put up cups for a beer-pong tournament. Siri was so pretty from the side, cheekbones sculpted by some divine creature, lips slipping into such an easy smile so it was practically impossible not to smile back.

“Yes please” you almost begged him.

The rest of the night you and Remus circulated the rest of the group, like a moon to a planet, always keeping an eye out for Sirius. The beer-pong had started and with Lily and James teamed up it was quite impossible for the rest of the duos, but as they were down to the last cups Dorcas called out.

“Hey, Beauty and the Beast we need another team!”

You looked over and saw her stand next to Sirius but without any opponents on the other side. You glanced over at Remus as he rolled up his sleeves.

“Let’s go”.

You had Remus behind you, trying out your throw. With four misses in a row, and with Dorcas and Sirius leading with two cups, you tried to gather yourself. Playing with Gryffindors meant that every game is practically life or death.

“Oh come on! Just throw it!” Sirius exclaimed.

Your eyes shot up, a surprised look drawn over your whole face. His eyes had a very intriguing twinkle and he smiled in a way that made your stomach turn. So you threw it. And you made a perfect shot.

Remus let out a celebratory shout and wrapped his arms around your waist, hoisting you up slightly. You laughed and let yourself celebrate with him, lifting your arms into the air. But as Remus put you down you looked over at your opponents. As your eyes landed Sirius you saw that the twinkle had disappeared, which scared you. The second thing you noticed was that his smile had not disappeared, which scared you even more.

“Please, you’re still down a cup” Dorcas said with an eye-roll, “now stop dry humping and let’s get on with it”.

The rest of the game Remus’ left hand was always found on your person, on your shoulder, resting on your waist, guiding your own hand to make a perfect throw. And with the cloud of intoxication getting thicker as the night progressed the game got stretched out, by bathroom breaks, cup refilling and joint rolling. In the end you were tied with a single cup each and Sirius had one throw left. He looked up at you and winked before throwing the ball, making it in.

Dorcas threw herself over Sirius and whooped loudly, “ha! Suck it!”

“Better luck next time” Remus mumbled and walked over to Marlene who had the joint at this time.

Sirius sauntered over to you with two cups in his hands, “can we have a little chat?” He said through gritted teeth.

You followed him, sharing a mischievous look with Remus, before you were out of sight and earshot of the rest. He led you down a dark hall with a fast pace, gracefully not spilling your drinks. And just as you were about ask where you were going a big door appeared right by Sirius’ side. He opened the door and threw a quick, cold glance at you.

“In you go” he said and waited for you to move.

You took a few hesitant steps inside and heard him slam the door shut behind you, causing you to turn to him. He didn’t look angry, he looked peeved.

“You looked really pretty tonight” he said and handed over a glass to you.

The words confused you but you accepted the glass and looked up to him. His eyes had an intensity to them you didn’t expect after a night of drinking and it made you slightly uneasy, as if he had some sort of masterplan.

“Thank you, Siri” you mumbled, “that’s really ni-“.

“Which is one of the reasons why I’m so pissed you decided to waste it on Moony” he cut you off.

“Not because you’d ever do something with him,” he walked toward the middle of the room with slow, deliberate steps. but because you thought you could make me jealous”.

A smile crept over your face and you locked eyes with him over the brim of your cup as you took a sip. The drink was strong, one of Sirius’ drinks signature, but it still felt refreshing.

“I’d say you are a little jealous” you suggested lowly.

As those words registered in Sirius head he whipped around and looked at you again. Then he walked up and took the glass from you, placing it somewhere behind him.

“You think you’re so cute, huh?” He practically growled, “going around groping my best friend in front of me?”

His hands came up to your face, slowly pushing your stray hairs aside with care. You glanced to his lips, hopeful, but he just shook his head.

“Nuh uh, you’ve spent this whole night trying to prove some stupid point” his breath fanned over your face as he spoke, “all for what?”

You assumed it to be rhetorical question but after a beat of silence he still looked down on you expectantly, his big hand wrapping around your face and pushing your cheeks into a small pout.

“All for what?” He repeated.

“I-i uhm, I wanted to make you jealous, o-or maybe just to get your attention” you stumbled out, his lips forming into a sly smirk.

“Well isn’t that cute” he hummed, “do you like having my attention?”

You nodded and let your hands fall onto the waist of the slacks he was wearing, trying to ground yourself by grabbing onto something.

“And you’d do anything I ask, right?”

The hand not pressed into your cheek met yours by his waist, darting past them to unbuckle his belt as you nodded a second time.

“I want you to get on your knees, darling”

Your body acted even before you really understood what he was saying, sinking slowly down onto the hardwood floor. Your hands traced his thigh as you sank, making Sirius throw his head back momentarily.

When you were situated below him he took a few steps back, inspecting you like a work of art. The act was degrading in way that made your skin crawl with excitement. His eyes fell down onto you with a newfound darkness and his already tall body towered over you like never before. Your mouth fell open by itself and he chuckled, walking back up to your small frame.

“You have such good natural instincts, love” he remarked as his hand tilted your chin upwards, “what do you want?”

“I want to..” your words died down as your confidence diminished, but as you saw Sirius’ gaze you knew he wouldn’t let you get away with it.

“I want to suck your dick” you mumbled and he patted your cheek lightly in approval.

“Well what kind of monster would I be if I didn’t let you do just that”

Since his belt already was unbuckled he could just reach down and unzip his trousers, letting them pool by his ankles. You got a great view of his not so unimpressive bulge from where you were sitting and felt yourself leaning forward. With an approving smile from Sirius you let your hands slide upwards again and you delicately wrapped your fingers around the outline. As you let your hands massage him a small, wet spot formed on his dark grey boxers.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty” he groaned, tangling his hand in your hair as he pulled his underwear down.

His beautiful, pink cock sprung out, bobbing in the air as he stepped out of his boxers. He gave himself a few slow strokes as he took in your blown out eyes and flushed cheeks. He grabs his dick as you let your tongue lull out, his smile turning almost sinister as he slaps his tip down onto the pink muscle repeatedly. Without warning he thrusts forward into your warmth, pulling a loud gag from you as he groans. Sirius sets a slow pace after your initial shock dies down, savoring the feeling of your wet mouth.

“This is really what you should be doing” he murmurs, disguising a particularly shrill moan, “not dicking around with my best mate”.

In an attempt to show your obedience you try to nod but the movement makes his length shoot right down into your throat. You pull away as tears well up in your eyes and coughs escape you.

“Fuck m’sorry” you mumbled with an apologetic look over your face.

“Gods, you’re gonna make me cum way too quickly” he groans as he leans his forearms onto the wall behind you, making his cock bob against your face. You licked the thick vein displayed over you and saw Sirius’ face scrunch together tightly

“Nuh uh” he murmured and hooked his hands under your armpits to yank you up from the floor, “I just can’t wait anymore, I gotta have you”.

In a fit of passion he pulled you as close as humanly possible, the kiss being all teeth clashing and tongue wrestling. As he kept pushing you up against the wall he unbuttoned his shirt, dark fabric slipping off of his lean shoulders.

“You know you’re really too dressed for my taste” he said, mumbled by your lips.

When you got back to earth from the kiss a pang of confidence flooded your body and you felt your arms push him away before really realizing.

“Sit down” you ordered with more dominance than you’ve ever had in your voice.

The raven haired man smirked as he sat down on the comfy bed the Room of Requirement housed, legs spread and leaning on his arms, accentuating his lean muscles.

You started to unbutton your slacks, fumbling slightly with the zipper, working for it to look seductive. Pulling them down slowly over your hips you slowly turned around to give him a view of your bum. You noticed, to your delight, when you faced him again his right hand had migrated to his cock, keeping a steady pace as he watched you intently. You stepped out of your trousers and kicked them away as you got to work to pull your shirt over your head in one swift motion, leaving you in black underwear.

“C’mon love, get over here” Sirius muttered out almost so quietly that you didn’t hear him. You sauntered over to him and straddled his hips, careful so you didn’t crush his member. As your lips reconnected you pulled his open shirt off of him, tracing the panes of muscle over this back before your hands got back to his hair. With his hands on your hips he guided your movements, making you grind down into his thigh. When it hit a particularly good spot you whimpered into his mouth and it opened up into a grin.

“This feel good huh?”

You could only nod as you steadied yourself with your hands on his shoulders and focused solely on hitting that spot over and over.

“Feel better than my cock?” He asked and you forced your eyes open to meet his as you shook your head. He chuckled and kissed your jawline.

With one swift motion he flipped the two of you over, ripping your panties with minimal effort.

“Hey!” You shrieked, looking at the fabric in his hand.

“Oh get over it, you’ve already soiled them” he smirked, feeling the wetness that resided in the clothing.

You felt your face heat up, diverting your eyes.

“Aw poor baby, are you embarrassed?” Sirius turned your head back to him with two fingers, making you look at him.

“Embarrassed that you’re so desperate to get fucked?” He asked with eye-contact that burned.

You nodded again and felt some tingling in your stomach at his words. He smiled at you, slightly sweeter than you expected in this situation, and held up his hand to your mouth. When your eyes flitted up to his in confusion he sighed.

“Spit.”

The simply word made wetness pool between your thighs and you complied quickly, to Sirius’ content. He used the saliva as lubricant over his dick before dragging a finger between your slit. He chuckled again and placed a kiss on your hip.

“My filthy girl, getting this turned on from a little degradation hm?”

The heat residing over your cheeks ignited once again and you opened your mouth to say something but could not think of anything in your defense.

“That’s fine” he mumbled as he lined himself up against you, “I’ll give you anything you want”.

He pushed in slowly, both for your comfort but also for his enjoyment. Seeing your face contort, right on the edge between pain and pleasure, and hands flexing as you tried to figure out what to do with them. He set a slow pace, intent in making sure you felt every inch of him.

“Such a little cockslut” he moaned out, feeling you squeeze him at the words, “fuck, getting tight at my words huh?”

In the cloud of pleasure where you were in made his words float together, your jaw falling slack as he increased his force. He took a hold of your hair and tighten his fist slightly to get your attention.

“Feel so fuckin’ good sweetheart” Sirius groaned out.

His cock hit you right where you needed and your hands went to his biceps, gripping onto them to ground yourself, but just as you grabbed on he moved his right arm. His fingers found your clit and he began to carefully rub circles over it, feeling you clench around him again.

“Gods if you keep doin’ that you’re gonna make me cum” you slurred out, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.

“That’s kinda the point darling” he chuckled.

As his gaze fell down where the two of you connected he saw as he thrusted in a little bump formed in your stomach. He slowed down to watch it closely and moaned loudly.

“My cock is basically splitting you in half” he said, more to himself. The words made you flex around him and his hand went to grab your face.

“Bloody hell, don’t do that!” He reprimanded, wrapping an arm around your waist and hoisted you up slightly before flipping back over so you straddled his lap.

“If you’re gonna be a tease you’re gonna have to do the work.”

You whined at his words but started to grind against him immediately, not wanting to lose the momentum you’d already built up. From this new angle he prodded even deeper inside of you, so deep it almost hurt, and your head fell back feeling all those explosions of pleasure.

“Can’t even hold your head up” Sirius stated, hand coming up behind your back and cradling your head, “just a little toy fo’ me huh?”

His words barely registered at this point, you were too wrapped up in your impending orgasm that you only noticed his voice, tone indicating that he said something mean.

“Please Siri” you mumbled, legs slowing down slightly at the effort of riding him.

“Please what?” He grinned, eyes watching your face intently.

“I jus’ need a little help, need your help to cum” you opened your eyes properly and gave him a pleading look. His face softened and gave you a soft kiss before planting his feet on the floor to thrust up into you. He let his hands wander down to your hips and he started helping you go up and down.

“Fuck that feels so good” you moaned, letting your hand play with your clit to get you closer, “‘m about to cum Siri”.

His determination grew as he heard those words, increasing his pace to watch your face fall into bliss. When you toppled over the hill of your orgasm your legs buckled underneath you, Sirius keeping strong hands over your hips to fuck you through your climax.

As the mist of white pleasure started to clear out from your head you let out a breath you didn’t knew you held in. Sirius’ eyes were impossibly dark, making you nervous.

“How about we flip you around and let the real fun begin?”

[candiid-caniine]

Hey! Long time no see, i know i said id send you a fantasy i thought you'd like but now ive forgotten almost all of it, oop!

Life happened, and uh, i saw that you mentioned your libido being a bit low, which definitely is my case too (im recovering from depression, now that im okay id love to get my FULL libido back, or at least a good percentage of it) do you have any tips on that?

Also any recs of blogs writing in the same vibe as you? (same-ish kinks would be nice but im specifically looking for queer inclusive stuff!) it makes me 10x hornier than the regular video/photo porn!

Hope you're well, you pathetic little thing!

💫

hi friend!! ugh i feel you. sorry i haven't got any advice on regaining ur libido...we just let mine wax and wane as it will, though denial has been a big help in keeping it steady!

i've heard good things abt ginseng and some other herbs. obvs use at your own risk, mind that some herbal treatments can cross-interact with certain medications, remember that pre-packaged supplement pills are often unregulated and may contain toxins, and be aware that some herbal remedies work better on pw certain anatomy than others, and finally that many herbal remedies considered to increase libido are largely untested on trans folx!

finally, sorry it's taken so long to answer this ask...i'm autistic and have been cataloguing lol. i present to you a list of other blog recs under the cut, organized by general vibe! i've tried to primarily include blogs that do their own posts rather than those who primarily reblog :)

note that my headings may provide some context as to what to expect, but you read at your own risk and each blog will typically have its own trigger warnings addressed in the header/pinned. additionally, i've not tagged some of the ppl below because they prefer that "Men DNI" blogs not interact, and idk if "no cis men" qualifies ahah!

all blogs below are queer- and/or trans-inclusive, if not exclusive! there is no detrans/misgendering, at least I don't think - i don't tend to follow those blogs.

hard kinks (blood, knives, etc; includes primarily-cnc blogs):

@puppy-mommy , who also does general t4t kink content, but does state untagged hard kinks!

@visciousest is someone whose blog i scroll when i'm in a Certain Mood ahah,, i won't elaborate

@hell-hound-bites: just. fuck. would drool on his knife blade.

@snuff-fag: its username should give you fair warning as to how wild its content tends to get, so please browse responsibly.

@condor-bait is taking a break right now, and all my love is with him as he takes care of himself. he made me feel so valid and so fuckable as a young trans person learning to love myself in a new way, and i've always been too shy to tell him how much his content meant to me one-on-one (yes, despite its often-extreme themes!), and he deserves as much time as he needs to heal!

@unwillingfvckpuppy for mostly cnc and medical kinks! if you like his style, but not so much their harder content, he also has a more-tame main blog--i just mainly follow/scroll this one!

@vampvictim: top-tier cnc/intox stuff, plus some great knife/bloodplay :)

@cryptidtid is wonderful and holy shit i follow a lot of hard kink blogs lol. incredible

@cnc-pet: i have been following her for a long ass fucking time lol. they post a lot of really good cnc and stories, but you'll also find a lot of aftercare tips and advice on her blog! i really admire blogs who try to balance horny content with best practices

@dollobotomy

general kinky content:

@excessively-queer . just plain old good shit :) there's a good amt of edging and degradation.

@clouded-king was honestly one of my earlier introductions to the queer/t4t kink community on here and how fucking euphoric it can be :) he posts some hard kinks, but generally it's a balance of a lot of different kinks so read his pinned at your leisure!

@ / cottontailx : just good kinky nsft posts :)

@ / digitalpenetration: often specifically t4t which i love!!

@femmelovefemme can step on me :)

@bigothteddies: could not build this section w/o mentioning him :) they had a big influence on my fantasies for a long time!

@hazelj-xoxo: bigtime want her to cuck me. have followed her across multiple blog deletions lol

@transpidered is forever an icon!

@subspaceemo

@writefinch for great stories and text posts

edging and denial, specifically:

@6irlpet is 1 of my go-to hands-down-pants scroll sessions :)

@droolkink is my inspiration!

@flustersluts does exactly what the name implies lol. a good helping of other kink content too :)

@puppycvnt is a 10/10!

@barkwoofbarkwoofbark: we r denial friends imo!!

@strawbrrysub

@blyssful-abyss

@urhighnessbitch is a big fav <3

non-detrans genderplay:

@butchviolence does amazing butch supremacy stuff and i,,, fucking hell. even just seeing their username puts me in a Particular state of mind ahah. they also post hard kinks so be aware as you proceed!

@mtfdomme: i literally just reblogged from her today lol. tbh i want to be their little stupid pupthing. it's not all transfem supremacy undertones/overtones, but that's what i mainly follow her for, plus just general t4t goodness! also, their general personality? and the way she shuts down people who disrespect their boundaries? huge inspiration for me!

@cuntboydestroyer: take me to the animal shelter and neuter me. good lord.

@the-kind-of-dame is the main inspiration for my recent genderplay post lol

@terfbreaking-tgirl (be warned of dykebreaking if that's an issue for you)

@barbarian-lesbian is my other inspiration for the recent genderplay post

@superiorineveryway

weird asf (/complimentary; my favorite type of shit. robots, ND-focused posts, etc):

@specksizedgoddess has introduced me to things i didn't know, like...existed, and that's saying a lot as one of my special interests is kink! never knew how down bad i was to be a tiny buggirl, nor how much i wanted to be someone's stupid little robot... BIG tw tho: there is snuff and gore content here, so proceed with caution if you don't wanna see that!

@sapphling fucked me up real good with some bird!sub bondage posts awhile back lol

@nobelisha: found them through their ghost cnc post so that's why they're in this category ahah! they don't have a pinned so proceed w awareness :)

@devout-cleric: hierophilia/religion kink, and i'm something of an acolyte of hers :) if you've read this far down you may as well know i'm her Little Lamb anon lol

piss/omo:

@latenightomo

@pissheartmybeloved - their URL makes me crack up every time, plus good content!

@hold-it-a-little-longer - good scenarios/imagines!

@ohmyrashi - (i think) my original intro to omo!

monsterfucking/terato:

@septimus-moonlight was my first real introduction to trans-positive terato and i've never settled for half-fun cis-oriented terato ever since :) mind tags!

@eggedbellies as well!

@bredpun doesn't appear to be active lately but still good for a scroll!

@steamandcream

@of-mutts-and-men

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 2

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 2.8K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

I had a real rough time figuring out the proper voice for Pedro's dialogue and I hope I did him justice. Either way, the support I received for part 1 is astounding and completely unexpected! Thank you all for reading and let me know what you think :) I plan to continue until the story wraps up, but I don't know how many parts that will be. I hope to post every couple days, but with my work schedule it may be less speedy. Here we go!

You walk in the door, unclipping Skip's leash, slipping off your shoes, and dropping your keys on the countertop before flopping onto the couch and unlocking your phone. No. Fucking. Way. 

Pedro Pascal (pascalispunk) replied to your message. 

You dissected each letter of the username, assuming it couldn't possibly be THE Pedro Pascal… but it was. It really, really was. You clicked the message, holding your breath.

Pedro Pascal replied to you: "Hey, you don't need to thank me. I didn't say anything that wasn't true. That guy was out of line. You deserve happiness and I'm sorry for the harsh words you've been hearing. I appreciate you sharing your vulnerability with the world and hope that you will continue to be your genuine self and ignore the comments trying to make you be someone else. Don't listen to those people."

You stared in disbelief at his words, once again wondering why he would ever be so kind to someone he doesn't even know. Someone so childish and stupid to write a song about a man she doesn't know. I can't imagine he'd think these things if he knew it was about him…

You: "Thank you Mr. Pascal. I'm a big fan of yours and hearing that you're in my corner has me completely at a loss. I can't imagine why you would risk damaging your image by defending a girl…" No… don't say girl, it makes you sound like a child. You want this guy to like you! You backspace with a slight feeling of ridiculousness over the whole scenario. Ugh it's all wrong… calm down... calm down… it's just a conversation. He doesn't know you. He doesn't like you. Don't make it weird like you always do.

You try again.

You: "Thank you Mr. Pascal. I really admire your work and for you to say such kind things to me… to think that you're in my corner, has me completely at a loss for words. I don't know what I did to deserve this treatment when you don't even know me, especially when coming to my defense could potentially harm your image… but thank you."

He read it almost immediately. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you felt like you could throw up from the anxiety and adrenaline. After a few seconds, those stress-inducing dot-dot-dots appeared to show you he was typing.

He's actually replying to me?? Again? Doesn't he have better things to do? 

Your mind wandered to what he might be doing while he's messaging you. Sitting at his home, relaxing, taking the time to reply to you? Why? Maybe he's on a plane or waiting for something and killing time. Maybe he's- *ping*

Pedro Pascal replied to your message:

"Please, you can call me Pedro.. and as far as defending you, it doesn't matter to me that we don't know each other personally. You seem like a woman with a good heart, and all you did was share your true self. Nobody deserves to be talked poorly about for something harmless that they feel. If something like that hurts my image… then my true self wasn't being represented. I think we all just want to be seen, and I hope that you will feel comfortable to be yourself and show yourself more."

You don't know when you started crying, but you hiccupped with the overwhelming wave of emotions. He sees me.. you had just scrolled to the bottom of the long reply, when you noticed the "..." of typing again. He has more to say?!

Pedro Pascal: "As far as the subject of your song.. whether you choose to reveal that to him, or the world, you deserve love and respect. Being vulnerable and putting yourself out there is a terrifying thing to do, and I myself tend to close myself off from relationships to avoid that potential for getting hurt. But if that's what you want, you've already taken a big step and you should go for it. I hope that whoever he is gives you the respect and love you deserve."

Holy crap…

He doesn't… he doesn't know it's him right?? No. There's no way. He's just being nice… he's too nice. He's too genuine..??

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, doing a little dance in the air, pondering what to say. How much can I share with this man? Between this crush and his kind words, it's feeling tricky to hold back from spilling too much information.

You: "Thank you Pedro. You're too kind and I can't properly explain how much I really appreciate it. I'm having trouble coming to terms with all the sudden attention, and finding it hard to ground myself. But your words are helping me a lot. I - "

You hesitated over your next words, wondering if you should open up or just leave it. Don't be weird… don't scare him away like you always have with everyone else. As much as you think of disclosing your hesitation and lack of experience with relationships, as well as your reasons for trepidation, you decide to spare him of your self-hatred. Instead, you delete that last letter and hit send. 

Then you send another message, like he did. "And as far as the guy… I know I don't know him personally, we've never met, but I can already tell he would treat me right. I just hope maybe someday he will love me back."

Immediately after sending it you regretted it. That felt way too open and vulnerable. What are you thinking!?! Shit… what if he sees through you!?

You hold your finger down on the message, ready to hit unsend before he sees it. But it's too late. He's already replying.

Pedro: "He would be stupid not to love you back."

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

You: "Thank you, Pedro. 🥺" Play it cool… Play it cool…

Pedro: "Of course, sweetheart. Feel free to message me if anyone else gives you trouble or you just want to chat. I enjoyed talking with you."

???!!!!!?????!!!!! SweetheartSweetheartSweetheart

You grabbed your nearest pillow and screamed into it. "SKIPPPPPEERRRRRRR!!!!!! I JUST HAD A CONVERSATION WITH PEDRO AND IT WAS MAGICAL AND AAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!" You squealed.

Skipper lifted his head at you and sighed before setting his head back down. He was no stranger to your shenanigans. Napping after a good walk was a better use of his energy than to deal with your drama. He closed his little brown eyes again.

You lay back on the couch, kicking your feet and squeezing your pillow to your body.

Fuck, this is going to hit me like a truck if it goes sour. If he even realizes it's about him, probably. Crap… what am I going to do?

The next day, you woke up and checked your emails before work. Thankfully nobody at your workplace has seemed to place your singing voice to your speaking voice, or pieced together the fact that several people know you have a crush on a certain celebrity and are a musician. Thank goodness. That’s the last thing you need.

You closed your eyes for a few minutes, trying to calm your breathing, your nerves, and your heart rate, before relaxing and shaking out your body. Finally, you decided to get ready for bed and see what tomorrow brings.

Your emails come in, one by one, with one intriguing email at the top, from a well known pop-culture show called The Jazz & Ally-Kat Show. They want to do an interview with you, live, as soon as possible. 

Great. They probably just want to see what I look like or have me spill my guts about my crush. You roll your eyes, and you can’t help but feel like the Mandalorian with his lack of face reveals. If only you had a cute little space baby to accompany you. I guess Skip is my own precious cargo in a way, you think, while looking at your still sleeping pup. You're being silly… Not everything needs to relate back to Pedro, you think with a sigh to yourself. 

Yet despite your anxiety, you agreed to their interview, with the exception that it was done as a podcast style interview, where simply your voices are featured. Surprisingly, they agreed. I guess everyone likes some drama, and what better way to get views than by having a little mystery.

The interview was scheduled for three days from then, and in the meantime you focused on work and your album, which was mostly finished after years of writing songs. All it needed was some editing.

As the days went by, you wanted desperately to message Pedro again. You wanted to tell him your feelings. Have him confess that he loves you too. Ask him about his family, his friends, his favorite things. Meet him, kiss him, fall in love, and finally be happy. But ultimately you knew that was silly. You had one little conversation, and although it was nice, you still didn't know each other. There was no way he loved you back. Yet…? you asked yourself, hopeful, almost asking for permission to let yourself try and earn his love. 

Despite Instagram drawing you in like a magnet, you held back from messaging him. You didn't want to come on too strong. You messaged him first last time. He doesn't know you. Literally… he doesn't even know your real name, or what you look like. But maybe that's a good thing…

_____The day of the interview:_____

You woke up around 9:30 in the morning; nervous, slightly nauseated, restless, and jittery. Why did I agree to this??! 

You decided to pass on the coffee this morning, figuring it would make things worse, and instead decided to take Skipper for a walk. After some fresh air followed by a refreshing shower, you looked at the clock. 11:30 AM. With the interview at 1PM, you still had some time to kill and sat down at the piano, letting your mind wander to Pedro while you plunked chords out with nimble fingers. I wonder if Pedro has ever wanted to learn any instruments… I could teach him, you daydream.

Your hands dance across the piano while he reads through a script in the other room, eyebrows furrowed as he highlights another line. You look up over the grand piano and see his soft brown curls blowing under the fan haphazardly. The sun is shining in through the window, which Skip bathes under, and reflects a golden brown undertone with gray streaks in Pedro's hair. He really is beautiful, you think. His tongue swipes across his lips as he makes notes and erases, before finally feeling your eyes on him. He glances up from the script, giving you a soft smile and a wink; with those chocolate brown eyes that frequently cause you to lose your train of thought. Your eyes drift down to the keys again, feeling a soft blush creep over your cheeks. 

"That music sounds beautiful, baby.." he says softly while padding up to you behind the piano. He places his large hands on your shoulders, sweeping them down over both your arms before settling on your hands, still resting over the black and white keys. You look over your shoulder and he leans in, closing his eyes as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. Just like that scene in Narcos… you think. Yikes, I really am obsessed… anyway… you think back to your daydream…

He sits down at the chair next to your piano bench, kissing your lips again gently, then the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and your jaw. Your stomach gives a wave of butterflies and you lean in more to kiss him deeper, tugging on his hair while his hands find the small of your back, gently running his palms up your spine. A chill overcomes you and he-

~Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.~

Fuck. You snap out of your fantasy and turn off the alarm you set to go off ten minutes before the interview. At least I gave myself time to use the restroom and wash my face, you think, hoping to clear your head a bit now that you're slightly frazzled.

Unfortunately the feeling that replaced it was nerves as you sat down at your desk, typing into your keyboard, turning on your mic, and hoping that Skipper doesn't throw a fit over the wind or something while you're on this call.

Jazz: "Hi there listeners! We're joined by the artist of the moment, our favorite lovesick lady, the singer responsible for "Imaginary Love!"

Both women on the other end of the call applaud.

Well… not sure I like being called a lovesick lady but what else did I expect, really?

You: "Thank you guys for having me, I appreciate you wanting to get to know me better."

Despite the rough start, the ladies turned out to be really respectful and fun. You think that if the circumstances were different, you could actually be friends with them. You discuss casual things like your dog, your favorite activities and favorite pop culture topics (careful to avoid mentioning Pedro or any other actor that could be perceived as your lyrical subject), and they even mention celebrity crushes they've had growing up. 

At the mention of their celebrity crushes, you can feel the interview funnel into a dangerous alley with little to no escape. Jazz was the first to broach the subject. "So… we've just discussed our celebrity crushes, and I think I speak for all of us here when I say we're all very curious to know who-"

-an air horn blares-

What the hell is that? You wonder, both thankful for the interruption, yet startled by the disruption.

They both chime in: "Viewers!!! Do you all know what that sound is!?! We have reached 1 million listeners!!!!"

To say you were astounded is an understatement.

You: "You're kidding!? 1 million people are listening to us right now?"

Ally: "You bet they are! And listeners… I don't know about you guys… but I can't help but wonder if our celebrity heartthrob is one of those million?"

They turn their attention to you again. "What do you think? Think he's listening?"

You're thankful for the lack of a camera, because you can't help but blush at the thought. You'd be lying if you hadn't already considered (hoped) that he was listening too. 

Jazz: "So as we were saying… I think we all are in agreement that we want to know who he is. You sound like a nice enough girl, so what's holding you back? You've made it. You can contact him now and he'll probably reply."

I already have… you thought with a smirk.

Jazz continues: "Which brings me to the next point... I know you've had a lot of attention lately. You were signed to a record company, you were contacted by us, you've been mentioned by a few talk shows and celebrities. Pedro Pascal even publicly defended you. The radio has been playing your song nonstop and people can't get enough. What do you think of all this attention?"

You: "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit surprised and maybe a little scared," you answered with a nervous laugh. "But I am so thankful for the kind words that I receive and I love hearing from people who can relate to my music."

Ally: "You've certainly received your fair share of criticism too. It sounds like you received that before your song was ever published as well."

You: "I have, and it's been challenging to try and not let it get me down. But I'm trying my best, and the positives seem to be greatly outweighing the negatives," you state, your mind thinking of Pedro and how his messages were really the only positive you needed to get you through the dark storm of criticism.

Ally: "I guess what I'm wondering is.. among all these people contacting you.. has he?"

You try to play dumb: "Has who?"

Both interviewers laugh before Ally continues. "Nice try. You know who we're trying to find out about. Has he, the man of your dreams and star of your lyrics, contacted you at all? Will we see a romance blooming?"

Your stomach flipped. You were not expecting this question. Should you tell the truth??? It's not like they could know who has contacted you, short of hacking your account. You have had a lot of people contact you, after all.

You take a deep breath before answering. "I uh… I have received a lot of messages, some of them from celebrities."

They reply, and you can practically feel them leaning in. "Yeeeeaaaah?????"

You consider your next move, your heart really working overtime since this whole thing started. Finally you decide your answer.

"Yes. We've talked."

Looking for Track 1? Read it here!

Next chapter: Here!

~Thanks for reading! Stay ~tuned~ for more!

Taglist: Let me know if you want in :)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02