#like adonis statues

[thefailureartist]

Hearing the McElroy brothers talk about how ~tall~ (5'10) Travis and Griffin apparently are only to find out that that's just 1.77 meters is hilarious.

[bitchfitch]

Thing I want to draw when i have the time and hand mobility:

a short comic of Adonis and Ione at the grocery store. Ione is carrying the basket which seems to mostly have meat candy and booze in it.

Adonis picks something up off the shelf.

I: Oh wait. Check to make sure it's not sugar free, i can't have a lot of types of artificial sweeteners.

A: How do I check?

I: It's usually written on the box? Look for something that says 'sugar free' or 'artificially sweetened.'

Adonis holds the box up and examines it closely before looking back up at her.

A: I can't read.

I: Ah.

[considerad]

shaved my legs so I'm a different person now

[leeloooonfire]

Steve Harrington only wears a bra.

Well, not, only, he's also wearing bright orange swim shorts and a cap backward, too.

The top part, however? Hairy man boobs are prettily covered by a black lace bra with a sparkling strass stone in the middle.

Eddie might be a teeny tiny bit drunk (2 beers after months of abstinence and medication does that to a man), but not drunk enought to imagine Steve Harrington in a bra.

'Uh-', he says eloquently and tries not to stare too much at the other man sitting on what must be Buckley's bed. 'Am I interrupting something?'

Steve, face almost as pink as Erica's favourite shoes, opens his mouth to reply, but Robin, sitting crosslegged in front of him, is faster, 'Oh its just you. Close the door, Eds.'

Eddie isn't sure if she means 'close the door and leave, never talk to us about whatever weird kinky little thing we're doing right now' or 'come in, close the door and shut up'. He hesitates for a moment, studying Steve's pretty flushed face and Robin’s wiggling eyebrows before stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

His hand is still on the door knob when he turns and finds Robin leaning against Steve’s hairy chest, one of her arms behind his back. She's fumbling with something, frustrated noises escape her closed lips while Steve simply sits still - like a statue. An Adonis statue wearing a bra.

'Fuck', Robin groans loudly, her forehead knocking against Steve's clavicle, his hand patting her head in condolence.

'Not to be judgmental', Eddie starts slowly as he leans against the book case right next to the door, 'But what are you guys doing?'

(Eddie thought Robin's a friend of Dorothy, so why is Steve fucking Harrington sitting dolled up in a delicate bra on her bed and they look like they're ready to make out?!)

When both Steve and Robin send him evil twin looks, he holds both his hands up in surrender, 'Like I said, not gonna judge you, whatever floats your boat or whatever, but what, exactly, is it that you're trying to do here?'

'Practice', Robin grumbles against Steve's chest, tugging behind his back again.

Steve grins, a bit lopsided and goofy, 'She's trying to open the bra with one hand.'

'It's just so much easier on myself,' she says, and now that Eddie knows what's happening, he can make out her hand tugging and fumbling with the hooks behind Steve's back.

'Ah,' Eddie says, again, rather eloquently. 'I should probably leave you to it, then.'

Before he can turn and go, however, Steve says, 'I heard that you're pretty good with your hands, Munson. Bet you can get it off me in no time.'

'Pfff- ' Robin makes, rolling her eyes, 'I wouldn't be so sure he's ever had a bra in his hands.'

And while Robin has flocked him as a raging homosexual as it seems, Eddie heard the rumours about him too: fingers dancing over his guitar, rolling the perfect joints, Eddie the freak Munson knows how to work his fingers. he doesn't hate this rumour at all. It's kind of nice - for his ego and all.

Yes, he hasn't opened a bra before, but he's met this hot goth dude in a corset before, and that's basically a bra with dozens of hooks. He is fairly sure he can open it with one hand and without looking. What he probably shouldn't do is coming too close to Steve Harrington, the man he's had a crush on since they survived the Upside Down together. Not with his naked skin and hairy chest and dark brown nipple peaking through the black lace of the undergarment.

But both Robin and Steve stare at him and Eddie doesn't run anymore - a challenge is a challenge.

'No problem,' he says far more confident than he actually feels and steps closer, one knee on the bed before Robin's even all out of the way.

'No looking,' she says as if she's explaining the rules to a game, 'chest to chest or face in his neck, but you can only use one hand and your eyes have to stay either closed or on him. Seriously no peeking.'

She shuffles out the way to make room for Eddie between Steve's long, also very naked, legs and Eddie swallows quietly before leaning closer.

Steve smells like sunscreen and grass, a bit like the pineapple they ate earlier before the kids left, and sweat. He smells devine and before Eddie can think clearly, he presses his face into Steve's neck. He feels Steve shudder when his damp lips accidentally meet his sun kissed skin and Eddie feels like he's going crazy. What is he doing? Why is he doing it? Even the slightest touch sends shockwaves through his body. God, he's gone so bad for Steve Harrington.

'Ready?' Robin asks, apparently unaware of Eddie's dilemma or the way Steve's pulse is fluttering like a hummingbird right against Eddie's nose. 'Go!'

He sneaks his right arm around Steve, who jumps slightly the moment Eddie's fingertips brush against his shoulder blades. To keep him still, Eddie's left hand reaches for Steve's waist almost automatically. He doesn't try to focus too much on the way goosebumps spread under his fingers and the way Steve literally whines into Eddie's ear. His right hand follows the scratchy lace, nails lightly scratching Steve's skin, until he finds the hooks.

Thumb under the fabric and pointer and middle finger pressing against it, he feels the first hook opening after less than a heartbeat. For a moment, Eddie doesn't want to open the other two and therefore lose any reason to be so close to Steve.

Steve, who has his nose pressed against Eddie's hair and hand curled into Eddie's shirt, slightly tugging as if .... Well, as if to ask for permission to take it off. Eddie doesn't even know when he had the time to grab for the shirt in the first place.

Eddie moves his hand and the second hook opens. He turns his face, brings a bit more space between them to look at Steve. His cheeks are scarlet, lips shiney with spit and when he opens his eyes after mere seconds of Eddie staring at him, he can see that Steve's pupils are dilated, eyes dark with want.

The last hook springs free and without turning his eyes away, Eddie gently brushes the strap off Steve's broad shoulder. Steve quietly whimpers and pushes harder against Eddie's shirt as if to tear it off his body.

'Eddie', he whispers, licking his lips and Eddie just wants everything Steve is ready to offer.

'Ohhh okay, I think I'll leave you two alone', he hears the slightly panicked voice of Robin and then a door opening and closing.

And Eddie leans in...

[topzsun]

BUTTERFLY EFFECT

── ♡ TOBIO KAGEYAMA

❝ very few can proudly say there are happy with the choices they made that led them to this point. ❞

Your mother always used to say that life revolved around a series of small decisions that escalated into greater things. Your father would argue life is all about coincidences and accidents. You didn’t particularly care for what life is, you just wished you could have a family dinner without meaningless philosophical debates disturbing the table.

Unfortunately, these arguments will resurface in your mind when you are older, standing like a statue as Miwa Kageyama introduced you to her younger brother, the Adonis of Schweiden Adlers, Tobio Kageyama. You try to ponder what decisions and coincidences had led you to pursue hairdressing and have Miwa as your mentor.

“You’ll be attempting your cut on him. It’s a small trim, so there isn’t anything to worry about,” The latter part of her statement seemed to be spoken more towards her sibling, who to his credit, didn’t look too phased about who exactly was going to be holding the scissors to his head. She had whispered to you beforehand that Tobio could have cared less if a monkey was cutting his hair, as long as his hair was “short”. You don’t think it eased your nerves much.

He takes a seat and you drape the gown over his form, fingers trembling as you fasten the velcro. This action that you have done a thousand times before suddenly feels scandalous when it comes to the raven-haired man.

“So did you just want to trim your bangs, and clean up the sides?” You ask. He nods, and you take a quick breath before beginning. Unlike your other clients, the younger Kageyama sits still and silent, his gaze focused on the mirror as you carefully snip at split ends and unwanted hair. The snapping of your scissors is all that fills the empty salon, and you are vaguely aware even Miwa has left for her office, likely having more important things to do than watch your painstaking trimming process.

The moment you finished couldn’t have come sooner, and you step aside to let him have a full view of the finished product.

“Is it alright? Anything you need me to fix up?” You ask cautiously, breath halted as he leans closer to the mirror, lightly brushing his slender fingers against his hand. The lack of change in his expression only worsens your anxiety, until he leans back and simply nods.

“It’s good. Thank you,” For the first time since he arrived, he looks a little shy as you smile widely, and go to unfasten his gown. Within that moment, Miwa walks in from the back room, walking over to appraise your craftsmanship.

“It’s perfect, exactly how I usually cut it,” She compliments, and she turns to her brother with a faint teasing smile on her lips. “Looks like you know who to ask for when I’m too busy.”

You could faint when he simply tilts his head in agreement.

“Congratulations on your match,” You speak through pursed lips, focused on fixing up the back of his hair that has grown over the weeks he had been preoccupied with training. “It was super intense just watching it from the TV. That last rally had me on the edge of my couch.”

“Thanks,” Tobio responds, “It went on longer than I expected it to.”

Over the past year that you have uprooted Miwa from her spot as Tobio’s hairdresser, the excitement of seeing your celebrity crush had dulled, along with your initial nerves. You never would have expected you’d be able to make such casual conversation with the volleyball player while doing something as mundane as cutting hair. With your growing extroversion, Tobio had also begun giving more lengthy responses to your attempts at conversation, and you realise he’s not nearly as intimidating as he seemed on the court and in the media. He was just blunt, almost to a fault, and it reminded you of how Miwa had been when you first began apprenticing under her. The two apples didn’t fall far away from each other.

“You’re playing against MSBY Black Jackals next, right?” You hum, taking a spray bottle as you begin moving on to the next section of hair. “They say that new wing spiker is debuting that match. They called him… Ninja Shoyo I believe?”

While you were positioned behind him, your eyes lifted to the reflection of the mirror, giving you pause when you saw a smug smile stretched across the man’s lips. You think it's criminal how attractive he looks, even if it’s just his competitive side sparking up. You’d like to see that expression on him more.

“Yeah, and we’re going to win,” He says it like a promise, and you whistle lowly, unable to bite back your smile.

“Well, when you say it like that, I’ve got no choice but to root for you, huh?” Your aching shoulders sag in relief when you finish up his trim, Tobio being your last appointment for the day. You remove the gown from around his shoulders with a dramatic flair. “I’ll make sure to tune in.”

There is a sudden lull in conversation where Tobio’s usual “Thanks, see you” would be. You almost call his name in worry when he doesn’t move from the revolving seat until he beats you to the punch.

“You should watch the match in person,” He states resolutely, and you’re taken aback by his sudden proposition. You break into a nervous chuckle, despite how his stare is set firmly on you, and you try to distract yourself by sweeping up the stray hairs on the wooden floor.

“I would, but I’m sure tickets are already sold out by now, no?” You keep your gaze on the floor, your grip around the broom tightening.

“Don’t worry about it,” He counters immediately. “I’ll send you one.”

You lift your head, midnight eyes refusing to leave your figure. Does he even realise the effect he has on you?

“Okay, then I definitely can’t say no,” You offer him a strained smile and you watch him perk up almost instantly.

“Right, uh, that’s good,” As if finally gaining awareness of where he is, he shifts his weight on his other foot. “I’ll see you then.”

He leaves like he entered, in a whirlwind, and even busying yourself with the menial task of cleaning barely distracts you from Tobio, his eyes, and the excitement in them when you had said yes. Amidst your flustered musing, Miwa takes it as her cue to stroll back into the studio, and you’re filled with uncertainty when you find the corner of her lips quirked upwards slyly.

“Lucky you, huh? He must have really wanted you to watch him play,” What she says next makes your heart drop to your stomach. “He doesn’t even invite me to his matches.”

Tobio Kageyama will be the death of you.

[themodernwitchsguide]

altars for greek heroes

ACHILLES: hero of the Trojan war, son of nereid Thetis

Colors: gold/bronze, red for Trojan War. blue, white for his mother Thetis

Offerings: yarrow, gold/silver, shells, gull feathers, olive, laurel, gemstones

Crystals: aquamarine, sodalite, jaspers (red, yellow, ocean especially)

*to honor Achilles you must also honor Patroclus*

PATROCLUS: hero of the Trojan war, son of King Peleus

Colors: gold/bronze, red for war. purple for royal birth

Offerings: incense/fire, oil, olive, laurel, gemstones, gold/silver

Crystals: agates (moss, tree especially), amethyst, lepidolite, rose quartz, citrine

ADONIS: lover of Aphrodite, became god of rebirth and beauty

Colors: pink, purple, red for beauty and association with Aphrodite

Offerings: fast growing plants (lettuce, fennel, barley, wheat), anemone and other flowers, dead plants, cake, honey

Crystals: flower agate, rose quartz, amethyst, rutilated quartz, jaspers (specifically rainforest or other green ones)

ARIADNE: helped Theseus to defeat the Minotaur, later married Dionysus and became goddess of labyrinths

Colors: gold for noble birth. purple for association with Dionysus

Offerings: grapes, puzzle toys, spools of thread or fabric art, wine, herbal tea, saffron

Crystals: grape agate, celestite, star jasper, pyrite, amethyst, scolectite, selenite

ASCLEPIUS: god of healing, son of Apollo

Colors: yellow, white for association with Apollo. red, pink, orange for healing

Offerings: snake skin, clay/bronze humanoid figurines, cypress, pine, olive trees, medicinal herbs

Crystals: quartz, rhodonite, amethyst, fluorite, selenite, citrine

ATALANTA: one of the Argonauts, devotee of Artemis, killed the Calydonian boar

Colors: brown, green for the hunt. white, blue, grey for association with Artemis

Offerings: pork, boar hide, apples, laurel, forgeables, lion/bear imagery

Crystals: jaspers, moss/tree agate, petrified wood, amethyst, rose quartz, selenite

CASTOR AND POLLUX: Pollux was a son of Zeus who shared his immortality Castor, they were turned into the Gemini constellation, saviors of seafarers

Colors: purple for noble birth. white and grey for association with zeus. black for the night sky

Offerings: shells, laurel, olive, meat, wine, two things conjoined (like two cherries or two grapes on a vine)

Crystals: star and ocean jaspers, sodalite, aquamarine, obsidian, hematite

HERAKLES: went mad and killed his wife and kids, did 12 labors as penance, god of strength and heroes

Colors: red, gold for strength and heroes

Offerings: hellebore, olive, laurel, meat, alcohol, yarrow

Crystals: bloodstone, carnelian, garnet, red jasper, smokey quartz, pyrite

HYACINTHUS: Spartan prince and lover of Apollo, became god of vegetation

Colors: pink, yellow, green for vegetation. yellow/gold for association with apollo

Offerings: iris (they were called hyacinths by the Greeks) and other flowers, grain, yarrow, clove

Crystals: tree/moss/flower agate, jaspers (especially bumblebee), citrine, carnelian, pyrite, honey calcite, amber

ODYSSEUS: clever hero of Homer's "The Odyssey," favored by Athena

Colors: gold, purple for royal status. grey, white for wisdom

Offerings: owl feathers, shells, boat imagery, poetry/speeches, laurel, olive, cypress

Crystals: jaspers, obsidian, quartz, aquamarine, turquoise, sodalite, bloodstone

ORION: lover of Artemis, was turned into a constellation after death. Sirius is his dog and Scorpius the scorpion that slayed him

Colors: black, white for night. brown, green for the hunt

Offerings: forageables, apples, hides/leather, mugwort, cypress, moon shaped items

Crystals: star jasper, bloodstone, selenite, celestite, howlite

ORPHEUS: son of Apollo, famed musician and poet of the Argonauts, travelled to Haides to try to save his wife Eurydice

Colors: yellow, gold, white for Apollo. black for the Underworld

Offerings: music (especially lyre), poetry, hymns, honey, laurel, wine, meats

Crystals: aventurine, obsidian, black tourmaline, smokey quartz, selenite, yellow jasper, honey calcite

PERSEUS: son of Zeus, slayer of Medusa, has a constellation

Colors: gold and red for hero status. white, grey, blue for association with Zeus

Offerings: meat, laurel, snake shed, alcohol, fruit, honey, milk (to honor his mother Danae)

Crystals: jaspers (red, star especially), bloodstone, serpentine, quartz, obsidian

THESEUS: slayer of the Minotaur, united Attica, completed six trials for the entrances to the Underworld that he passed on the way to Athens

Colors: blues for ocean, being a son of Poseidon (in some stories)

Offerings: ship imagery, meat, olive, yarrow, gold

Crystals: pyrite, sodalite, lapis lazuli, coral, blue aventurine, aquamarine

[texas-writes]

Special Girl

Cw: pining, mentions of masturbation, piv sex, protected sex, oral (m&f receiving), fingering

The sound of your front door opening and closing was normal, someone was always on the move, but your interest was piqued when you heard your brother laughing, indicating he probably had a friend over, and you prayed it wasn’t who you thought it was

Your brother’s best friend growing up was Leon Kennedy. He was just a year older than you, and you’d always had a huge crush on him. Actually, crush was a weak word for this.

You were

hand-in-your-panties-like-your-life-depended-on-it obsessed with him.

You were a slut for him and he was none the wiser.

You sat and thought for a moment before making up your mind. Timing it perfectly, you crossed the hall to the bathroom as your brother came up the stairs with his friend, letting you see who it was.

Fuck, it was Leon.

He seemed much more handsome than he was the last time you had seen him. Maybe it was because it was summer, but his skin was tanner and his hair was more blond than usual. He was Adonis in the flesh, everything you could ever want.

You spend a few moments pretending to use the bathroom, flushing the toilet and washing your hands to make it convincing. Then you duck back across the hall and into your room.

It’s begun to get dark and you're laying on your bed wrapped in just a blanket reading National Geographic. You’d gotten accepted to Penn State for anthropology, and you wanted to spend your summer preparing for when school started up. Your walls were covered in clippings from previous issues, the city of Petra, the carved churches of Lalibela, ancient statues, any picture that interested you honestly. You loved to look around your room at them all while you thought.

You’re pondering what all you’re going to take to your dorm when you hear the garage door rumble open. Your father was home, which meant it was almost dinner time.

A groan escapes your lips as you roll off the bed and shuffle to your closet to find clothes. You clutch your blanket around your shoulders like a cloak as you dig around, pulling out an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of basketball shorts. Not exactly the best dinner outfit, but decent. You knew if you looked too nice your brother would pick on you for being a try-hard later.

When you go downstairs to help your mother set the table, you're more than surprised to see Leon doing it already.

“Oh Leon, you didn’t have to do that,” you say, reaching out a hand for the remaining silverware.

“Oh, hello,” he mumbles. “Your mom said I could stay for dinner, so it’s the least I can do.”

“Honey, you can get the plates. You know, Leon goes to Penn State too? Glad to know I’ll have someone to look out for you.”

Your cheeks turn pink at your mother’s words, and you're grateful that your back is turned. Look out for you.

“So uh, how do you like it?”

“S’alright, I guess. Better than being sent to Harvard, like my old man wanted. He wanted me to be a lawyer.”

“That’s good. Are you going for criminology like you wanted?”

“Yeah. I’m really glad to have done it. It was nice, standing up to him for once.”

“Yeah…”

After dinner’s been served and you’re just sitting there, poking at your plate, halfheartedly pretending to listen to your brother ramble about the upcoming soccer season, you can finally say you’re bored. Your father replies to whatever it was David had just said when you feel a foot brush against yours.

At first, you thought it was an accident, but when it happens again, you look up, meeting Leon’s eyes as he chews before looking back down at your plate. A few moments pass without another brush, so you cautiously stretch your leg out and bump your foot against his. Leon doesn't react to your touch, he just keeps eating.

Maybe it was an honest mistake. You mentally berate yourself for thinking he would touch you on purpose. You jump slightly when you feel his foot on your calf, gently stroking it.

“You alright, y/n,” Leon questions, looking as innocent as possible while he torments you, unbeknownst to your family.

“Yeah, just a chill, that’s all.”

“Oh, okay,” he shrugs, turning his attention back to David and your father.

Your cheeks burn and you take a couple more feeble bites before asking to be excused.

You laid awake that night, wondering what the fuck that was all about. God, you really needed to piss.

You rolled out of bed and pulled on your fluffy robe before heading to the bathroom.

When you step out of the bathroom, you bump into someone.

“Sorry David, didn’t see you.”

“And where are you going, pretty girl?”

Fuck. Nobody told you Leon was spending the night.

“J-just back to bed.”

“Why d’ya sound so nervous, hm,” he questions, backing you into the bathroom and closing the door.

“You scared me, that’s all.” Your robe was riding up and the counter was so, so cold against your bare ass.

“Just like you were chilly at dinner, right,” he questions, you can hear the grin in his voice as he lowers his head beside your ear, lifting your chin with his finger.

“Leon…”

“What, baby? Say the word and I’ll stop.”

“Please, don’t,” you whisper

He leans away and takes a step back.

“No, wait- that’s not what I meant, Leon please.”

“Ah, so you do want me then?”

You nod.

“That isn’t enough, sweetheart I want you to say it.”

“Leon, that’s not fair, please. Need you.”

He chuckles to himself and returns to his original position, lips brushing against your neck as he speaks.

“You need me, hm?”

You nod again, slightly aware of how pathetic you’re being, but too caught up in Leon’s affection to care.

“What does my pretty girl want, hm? How bad do you need me,” he whispers, brushing his fingers up your thigh and under your robe.

“Nothing on under there. Was that intentional or did I just catch you at a good time?”

“I never wear anything to bed,” you murmur, bringing your hand up to rest in his hair, giving it a slight tug as his lips abuse the tender flesh of your shoulder, teeth grazing against your collarbone as he groans.

“Go wait for me in your room. I’m gonna make sure we won’t be bothered.”

You nod softly and poke your head out of the bathroom, making sure no one's watching as you scurry across the hall into your room while Leon hangs back.

After what felt like eternity, Leon comes into your room, easing the door shut behind him and sliding the lock into place. Your nerves are absolutely shot, and you shiver as you watch Leon come towards you, the way his tight shirt hugged his broad shoulders and slim waist, accentuating his silhouette.

“Is everyone asleep,” you question, pushing yourself up in the bed, tugging your robe tighter around yourself.

“Yeah,” he hums, sliding into your bed beside you, taking a swatch of your pink satin sheets between his fingers and feeling it. “Nice sheets, I see why you sleep naked.”

You giggle and rest your head on his shoulder. You had been awkward around Leon for as long as you could remember, In middle school, watching him from across the cafeteria as he flipped through an X-Men comic and filled out the mail-in sheet on the back, or in high school when he shrugged at every girl that tried to ask him out and you had been so sure he’d give you the same answer, so you’d never bothered.

Despite being dismissive most of the time, he was there when it mattered, like your junior year, when you had snuck out and gone to a local college party and gotten absolutely smashed. Leon had been there too and followed you around all night, shielding you from grabbing hands and switching your drinks out for water as the night wore on before driving you home and helping you sneak back into your window. Or when he’d come hiking with your family and you’d gotten water intoxication and he’d carried you back to the car to cool you off and taken you to get some extra salty fries while your family finished their hike.

But things were different now, you were both adults, and you knew that he wanted you as he tilted your chin up and pressed his lips to yours softly while his free hand went up to caress your cheek. His hands were calloused from his frequent visits to the gym, but they felt so good as they roamed your features, tracing the curve of your lips. The bridge of your nose, the arch of your brow. You wanted nothing more than to feel his hands all over your body.

“Leon,” you whine, tugging at the hem of his shirt, trying to get him to take it off. He finally takes the hint and pulls his shirt off and drops it on the floor. You yelp as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his lap.

“Shh, we still gotta be quiet, baby. Can’t get caught can we, then I can’t come visit anymore, hm?”

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you whisper, leaning in and kissing along his jaw.

“Mh, feels good,” he mumbles, exposing his neck to you as you trail kisses all across his throat, grazing your teeth along his Adam’s apple, making his breath hitch.

When you pull away your robe is barely covering enough of you to be considered decent. Leon looks up to meet your eyes, groaning when you untie your robe and let it slide down your shoulders, exposing your shoulders and the tops of your breasts. He allows his gaze to drop back to the soft plain of your tummy, the curve of your hips and the way the blanket wrapped around your hips pools between your legs just enough to cover the one thing he needs the most.

You can feel him, straining against his shorts as you cautiously lower yourself to brush your pussy along his sensitive bulge.

“You should take these off Lee,” you hum, tugging at the waistband of his shorts.

He nods and lifts his hips, allowing you to pull them down so he can kick them off. He groans as his cock springs free from the confines of his pants, standing at attention, so close to your entrance he can feel the warmth coming from you.

You shrug your robe the rest of the way off and drop it down with Leon’s clothes, moving from his lap, kneeling beside him and resting your head on his thigh and kissing it softly once before licking along the underside of his cock, making him grip at the sheets.

You tease him relentlessly, kissing and licking at the tip of his cock, your warm breath fanning against his skin. He lets out a deep groan when you finally take him in, tongue swirling around him as you take him deeper into your mouth. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as he tangles his fingers into your hair and guides you to take him into your throat.

“You’re such a good girl,” he whispers. “You’re taking me so well, fuck,” he moans bringing his other hand to caress your cheek.

Leon studies the way your body moves as you pleasure him, the arch of your back, the curve of your ass, the way you look up at him as you moan around him.

“M’gonna cum, fuck. You gonna let me cum in your mouth?”

You nod weakly as you take Leon deeper into your throat, pressing your nose against his tummy as he finishes. You lap at his tip, making sure you don't miss anything as you pull away, swallowing thickly and gasping softly as Leon pushes your hair out of your face and smoothing it down.

“You did so good for me,” he praises, stroking your cheek and motioning for you to lay back. “Let me return the favor, hm?”

“Please,” you whine, laying back on your bed, watching intently as Leon takes his place between your legs, right where you’ve always wanted him, tips of his fingers lazily trailing along your thigh while he looks up at you.

He teases your entrance before easing two of his fingers into you, making you whimper.

“I don’t normally do this, but you’re my special girl,” he whispers, ducking his head between your thighs and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. “But you have to be quiet, okay?”

“I’m your special girl,” you question, a warm blush spreading across your cheeks as he rests his head on your thigh, his hair tickling the tender flesh there.

“Always have been. Why do you think I look after you like I do? You promise you’re gonna be quiet?”

You nod and give him a gentle smile, laying back into the pillows and running your fingers through his silky hair. He curls his fingers into you, testing the honesty of your statement, pleased when you only let out a soft whimper and lock your ankles around his shoulders.

Leon takes your encouragement and buries his face between your thighs, tongue lathing against you as his fingers continue their steady rhythm inside you. Your soft moans and the way you tug at his hair are more than enough to drive him insane, urging him to focus his attention on your clit to draw more out of you, his fingers lazily curling into your sweet spot as he grinds his hips into the mattress, looking for a little relief of his own.

“Leon, ah- ‘m so close.”

You can feel him grin against you as he nudges his nose against your clit before taking it back between his lips, making you shove your fist in your mouth as he draws an orgasam out of you. He chuckles and just keeps eating you, not caring about the way your legs shake around him, or your heels digging into his back, or the way you’re dangerously close to ripping out a chunk of his sandy blond hair. No, all he cares about are those cute little noises you’re making, accented only by the occasional whine when he brushes his fingers against that spot inside you.

Finally he pulls away, tongue darting out to lick his lips as he crawls his way up to you, his fingers still buried to the hilt in your dripping cunt.

“How was that? Hm? Anyone ever done that for you before?”

You shake your head and he grins, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself and it’s one of the hottest things you think you’ve ever experienced.

“You think you’re ready for me, baby?”

“Yeah… I can take it.”

“We’ll see,” he teases, pulling his fingers out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, and brings them to his mouth, sucking all of you off of them. “You know baby, you’re just so damn good, don’t want to waste it.”

You reach up and wrap an arm around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss, teasing your tongue against his lip, smiling against him when he allows the intrusion. He pulls away and you reach for him, but he doesn’t yield to your grabbing hands, reminding you that he’s just been a willing participant in your arms until now.

“You have a condom?”

“I’m on birth control.” That’s what guys really wanted to hear, right?

“Not good enough.” Oh. He actually wanted one.

“Top drawer of the nightstand, not sure they’ll fit though.”

“You flatter me. Ah, here.” He rifles through the drawer until he finds one, tearing the little foil packet open with his teeth, hissing softly as he rolls it on.

He’s back on top of you as soon as he’s got it in place, grinding his hips against yours and pulling your legs around his waist.

“See, now you can keep those pretty legs of yours around me as long as you want and we don’t have to worry.”

You giggle and reach between your bodies, taking him into your hand and giving him a couple of strokes before lining him up with your entrance. He eases himself into you until he bottoms out, using one hand to lace his fingers with yours while the other grips at your headboard.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Didn’t know what I was missing until now.”

He starts out with a slow pace, taking the time to pull almost completely out of you before sliding back in, relishing in the way you push your hips up to meet his. Taking it slow was almost unbearable, but you were his special girl after all, and he wanted you to know he’d look after you however you wanted, even if it meant torturing himself to get you used to him.

After a small eternity you tell him to speed up and he doesn't need to be told twice. His thrusts become short and deep, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the stuffy silence of your room as he keeps his lips on yours swallowing down the moans that tumble from your lips. He takes his hand from yours to knead at your breast, enjoying the way they bounce every time his hips slam into yours. He knows you’re close by the way you tighten around him, so he opts to lean back and grab your hips, digging his fingertips into the supple flesh there, setting a punishing pace as his own hips stutter and he lets out a whine as he cums, lazily thrusting to carry you through before pulling out and falling beside you, pulling the condom off and knotting it, dropping it into the trash can beside your bed.

“So,” he questions, propping himself up on his elbow. “How was that?”

You’re still laying there trying to catch your breath, so you just let out a choked sound of agreeance.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just-”

“Just what?”

“A lot of things. Good things. But-”

“Start small then.”

“None of my other boyfriends would kiss me after I sucked them off.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Sorry,” you laugh nervously, sure you’d already screwed it up.

“Don’t be. I’m not opposed to it. In fact I’d quite like to be your boyfriend, but what else.”

“And then you ate me out, and-”

“Go on.”

“I’ve never cum like that in my life.”

“Those other guys were missing out then,” he replies, wrapping his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the back of your head.

That’s what you always liked about Leon. No matter how much you could try to stroke his ego, he always took it humbly. You wiggle yourself around to face him and press a kiss to the tip of his freckled nose

“Hey, baby, I don’t want to just run out on you and ruin a good thing, but I gotta go back soon,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours before slipping out of your bed and getting dressed. You watch with a twinge in your chest as he makes his way towards the door.

“I understand. Are you gonna come see me again?”

“You know it baby,” he grins, opening the door and slipping out before easing it shut behind him.

[heartfullofleeches]

My brain is rotting over Bully Wasp Darling and Adonis though. Feisty asshole who uses everyone around them like a doormat and the creepy weirdo butterfly who wants to be the next and only person to be crushed under their heels. Despite how gross he is, Darling's probably low-key jealous of Adonis' pretty boy status and picks on him every chance they get - mostly unaware of the boner Adonis is hiding as they tell him to go do a backflip off a bridge

"You're a disgusting, perverted freak, Adonis. The only reason people stuck around you is because you're a push over with a pretty face."

"..y-you think I'm pretty?...."

Im still writing the piss thing, but I just love their dynamic and sub yans as a whole.

[arlerts-angel]

a/n: based on these headcanons from the lovely @arlertwitch 💕

cw: toxic ex!armin x fem!reader, oral (f!receiving), penetrative sex (piv), slight breeding kink, (baby trapping? status undetermined) pet names (angel, baby, mommy)... armin talks about ur 😻 like it's a person

taglist: @callm3senpaii @arlertwitch @dilfkentolover @ringsofsaturnnnn @sleazymac-n-cheesy @cythrnn @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this

about a month ago, you ended your relationship with armin. it wasn't an easy breakup; he was reluctant to end things with you and he has made that evident.

you get about 10 texts a day from him.

"do you miss me? i miss you every day."

"i still love you. i know you still love me. you'll come back to me."

"no one will ever love you the way i do, angel."

"i'm so lonely without you. i need you like the air i breathe."

you've debated on blocking his number, but part of you wasn't ready to let go of him. you've been feeling extra lonely lately, so casual conversations with your ex brought a little bit of comfort.

"just come over, angel. i know you miss me too. we're both lonely... let me make you feel good. just one last time?"

you knew better than to go crawling back to him, but the truth is you missed him too... or maybe you missed the comfort, the familiarity of being with him. regardless, he won you over for the evening.

it wasn't long before he had your legs spread out on his bed, head between your legs, making you moan about how much you missed him and how good he makes you feel while he licks stripes up and down your clit.

"taste so good baby, no one else has tasted you right? i'm the only one? tell me i'm the only one, angel."

"fuck—! no one else, armin, only you—!"

he pumps his fingers in and out and rubs your clit with his thumb so he watch you unfold on his fingers. the knot in your stomach snaps as you climax.

he hurries himself inside you, desperate to feel you again; to feel the pussy so perfectly molded to fit his cock.

"mmm so perfect, i know she missed me. poor thing. so wet for me." he purrs, bottoming out. he thrusts deep into you, your clit brushing against his adonis belt.

"i missed this pussy so much, feels so good, so perfect..." he breathes. "gonna cum inside you, angel... need to cum inside you. won't let you leave again, okay? gonna make you a mommy so we can be a happy family. you ready? gonna take all my cum—ah—just like that. missed filling you up, angel."

he leaves his cock nestled inside you and nuzzles into your neck. "so, you're gonna stay right? don't leave me again, angel. i can't live without you."

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

Greek mythology has evolved over the course of hundreds of years, and with all those… retellings now, it’s gotten me thinking about just how many people have been spreading false details of myths through word of mouth to the point of becoming the most common interpretation, when if you were to look back in history, a great number of them were only recently made up, barely a a few centuries prior. Example of this is King Midas and his turning his daughter into a gold statue. I remember this part having been included all throughout my childhood, only to find out it was never part of the original myth but a recent addition in a book from 1852. (suddenly, the daughter being aptly named “Marigold” makes a lot more sense.) My ask is: which commonly told misconception of this type regarding any Greek myth is most infuriating to you and why?

oh my god misinformation can be INFURIATING smh

Let's start off with the Apollo misinformation.

"He raped Persephone/is a serial rapist!"

First of all, no he did not. LO, toss yourself into an eternal blaze and incinerate.

and secondly- he's not a serial rapist. There's only two accounts of rape, specifically Dryope and Creusa, but that depends on interpretation and the source so if you want to discard it, you can. No one can tell you you can't.

"UwU Apollo's love life is terrible!"

do i even need to say anything?

"Athena hates women!"

hell to the fuck no. the evidence people use for this is the Medusa Myth: Ovid's Version, and CONVIENTLY IGNORE THE ONES WHERE SHE HELPS WOMEN ESCAPE BEING RAPED!! AND THAT OVID IS THE ONLY ONE WHO DOES THIS!!

Even with the ones where she punishes the victim, the older versions do not have that! She made Nicymene her eternal owl companion, for heaven's sake!

"Hermes/Dionysus/Hephaestus is the only unproblematic god! UwU"

uh... *waves Leuconoe/Choine/Philonis around* no matter which version you go with, Hermes/Mercury does rape her...

...and in the Dionysica Dionysus rapes like two women...

...and Hephaestus tried to rape Athena... (oh wow, would you look at that...it's like Athena would have *gasp* sympathy for assault survivors...)

...See the double standards? :/ Ignores Roman/late Greek literature when it's convenient, and then exaggerates it to suit their own needs.

"Demeter is a terrible mom!"

GET OUT OF MY HOUSE NO ONE DISRESPECTS THE QUEEN

"Hades only kidnapped Persephone because Zeus told him too!"

Hades is his own man and wasn't being held at gunpoint to abduct her. He did so on his own merits. From a literal perspective, what was stopping him from just. you know. talking to her. kidnapping was not necessary.

(yes, yes, i know about the symbolic perspective, hence my use of 'literal'.)

"But Hades and Persephone are the only ones who don't cheat!!"

uh, nope. Hi Adonis, Minthe, how're you doing?

"But Adonis was more of a son to Persephone!!"

uh, NO. Even the ancients saw them as a couple!!

"Artemis is a girlboss who hates her brother!"

*kicks open door* OUT!

"Orion's the only man Artemis ever loved!"

how dare you disrespect my boy in this way Apollo was the first man she ever loved and no one will be able to replace him how dare you-

-and how dare you disrespect Hippolytus in this way he did not die in the name of all aroace people to be disrespected like this smh

"Zeus's only quality is how he fucks around!"

look, I've joked about this before but I know that's not all there is too him and that it has a symbolic representation.

Sure would be nice if people focused on that more :)

also anything that villainizes Aphrodite or Hera. god forbid women do anything.

"Clytemnestra is a girlboss who did no wrong!"

OH MY GOD THE DOUBLE STANDARDS.

funny how people fawn over Cassandra one moment and then COMPLETELY FORGET HER EXISTENCE to becry the woman who murdered her!

AND ALSO GO OUT OF THEIR WAY TO HATE APOLLO FOR CURSING HER WHEN THEIR STORY IS LITERAL ABOUT A WOMAN'S AUTONOMY BEING RESPECTED!!

AND GUESS WHAT!! APOLLO AVENGES HER DEATH!!

anything that is "UwU Achilles!" omg i am sick of it.

that bitch had everything coming. he deserved everything he got. Tenes, Troilus, and Hemithea did NOT deserve what he did to them! APOLLO AND PARIS HAD EVERY RIGHT TO TAKE HIM DOWN!

i'm probably forgetting some but here's the one that popped into my head :)

[biteofcherry]

Sentence Prompt: I'm so proud of you for using your safe-word.

AU: Ruby Gardens

I'm not in the BDSM world but stories where the Dom almost immediately praises their Sub for using the colors/safe-words really make me feel more inclined. I hope that makes sense.

More precious than rubies

Dom!Steve Rogers x plus size reader

warnings: none really; BDSM setting; Dom/sub dynamic; safe, sane and consensual; safewording; aftercare; communication;

Your heart was still pounding like crazy, even though Steve's hand provided that warmth of support as it rested on the small of your back.

You felt cold and shaky. And it had nothing to do with the fact you were naked. It was the wave of cold sweat that turned your skin clammy; anxiety filling your stomach with acidic dread.

"Is it okay if I hold you, or do you prefer me to step back?" Steve's calm, but worried tone reached you through the haze of chaos that was still messing with your brain.

You blinked a few times, trying to find his face in the blur of colors and focus on it.

Steve had a beautiful face. Chiseled like a perfect statue of Adonis. Nah, no Davids nor Adonises or other heroes could compare to how handsome you found him.

But mostly it was his eyes - so blue and so full of emotion - that held you captive.

"Hold me, please," you managed to croak out.

Steve didn't hesitate, instantly pulling you off the bench and lifting you up into his arms. Your dynamic has been developing for a few months now, but you were still stunned with how easily he could pick you up and carry you. As if you were light as a feather, though the scale showed something completely different.

"Sorry for all of that," you sighed once he settled you two down on a small chaise.

Steve adjusted you in his lap, so that you were more comfortable. He ran a finger along your cheek, before tucking it below your chin and tilting your head so your gaze met his eyes.

There was a slight frown marring his gorgeous face, but it wasn't annoyance. More likely worry.

"Never apologize for using your safeword," Steve said. "Whatever happened that made you do it, it was significant and heavy for you."

The scene wasn't hard. You doubted Steve even got you into half of what he planned on doing to you after you negotiated the general scenario for the evening.

Being under his care usually made you feel so safe and taken care of, that sometimes you considered revisiting some of your softer limits with Steve to see if maybe he'd like to explore some of them. Because with him you were willing to maybe poke at them and check them out.

But the blindfold, while not a limit, made you anxious.

At first you thought it's because it's a step of sensory deprivation and you had very little experience in that. Then your other senses started heightening, hearing most of all.

Instead of focusing on the sounds of Steve moving, or what implements he could be preparing to use, your attention went to the sounds a little further out.

To the laughter. Some other club members, who probably were just engaged in some conversation, or were watching a brat get disciplined. But your brain instantly screamed at you with horrified humiliation - that they were laughing at you.

At how you looked. How pathetic and ungraceful, and comically ugly you had to look there. Especially right next to Steve.

"I'm so proud of you for using your safeword," he assured you. "Not only because it let me know that you were in serious discomfort, which is something I as a Dom should look out for and react in time."

"But because it means you were taking care of yourself."

Steve's eyes softened as you stared at him a little confused. He changed his hold on you slightly, now running his fingers along your naked body in a warming caress.

"Upon feeling distressed, you didn't withdraw, didn't dissociate, you didn't grit your teeth to push through it. You safworded. You set a boundary and demanded it being recognized."

"You put yourself and your well-being first.

It stunned you. You didn't think of it the way he saw it, but now you started to understand why Steve said he was proud of you.

Not only in the BDSM aspect, but for your personal healing.

And Steve supported that more than anything else.

[yuna542]

[1]<-

[2]

›Bad Idea‹

Pairing: Hong Woojin × Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Enemies with benefits to Lovers

Warnings: 18+, explicit Smut, under 18 DNI!, suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names, hate sex, ANGST, fingering, bruises

Word Count: 6.1k

Note: Part 2… God I have so many ideas for Storys yet so little time to actually write them. But good news: I‘m soon on vacation, that means I‘ll have a lot time for writing. Hope you like this part. There will be big drama soon~ Much love

Summary: As Gunwoo‘s little sister he wanted you to finally meet his best friend. Unfortunately you don't get along. He gets on your nerves, you fight all the time and yet you can't stop messing with each other. One evening you get into a dangerous situation and end up bruised and bloody at his apartment. And you suddenly have to ask yourself: Why do you feel so attracted to that idiot?

Chapter 3:

The Mistake

Waiting, you stared at him when he made no move to turn around.

"Do you want me to change in front of you?" you asked accusingly, and that's when he seemed to remember his manners. With a wry grin, he ran a hand through his hair.

"Well, I wouldn't mind."

Stunned, you grabbed a pillow from the sofa and threw it at him to hide how your face flushed with redness. But he caught it and laughed derisively.

"Okay calm down! I'm going to take a shower too. Can you watch the ramen? It just needs a few more minutes."

Then he disappeared into the bathroom as well, and you heard the water being turned on.

After slipping into his clothes, which were of course too big for you, you had to admit that they didn't look as bad as you thought.

But you definitely wouldn't tell him that.

You continued to prepare the ramen, filling it into two bowls that you placed on the living room table, and just as you were tasting it, Woojin came out of the bathroom.

You nearly choked on a noodle at the unannounced sight of his wet adonis-like torso. He had a towel wrapped around his hips, surrounded by refreshing steam and you were sure it only took a gust of wind to loosen it. The mere thought made your whole head glow and you tried not to let on how hot you thought his entire appearance was. It was wrong to think such things and you were disgusted by your own mind. It was Woojin after all. A dickhead and an idiot with no manners or empathy.

He rubbed his hair dry with a towel and as he did so, his biceps stood out and his abs tightened. You felt reminded of history class because he looked like one of those ancient statues carved out of marble depicting naked bodies of the gods.

The bruises and red marks all over his ribs and stomach already looked nasty, and you scrunched your nose as he came closer.

"Does it hurt a lot?" you asked, pointing to one of the biggest bruises that was just below his chest.

He looked down at himself, threw away the towel in his hand, and shook his head. Casually, he dropped down on the sofa next to you and grabbed one of the bowls and chopsticks.

"It's no big deal," he dismissed it, lying.

In fact, every breath hurt like hell and he feared that a rib or two had been broken, but he would never have admitted that in his life. Not in front of you. You stared at him in disbelief for a while and before you could stretch out your finger, he caught your hand and looked at you with a warning tone:

„Don’t you dare!“, he said and you snorted amused. So you had your answer that he was just playing the hero. But you left it at that, because his tight grip on your hand was already messing up your insides again. With one last warning look, he let go of your hand and tried to look unbothered.

As you continued to eye him concerned, he shook his head like a wet dog, and when you nudged him in annoyance at the drops of water hitting you, he just grinned broadly.

"Bon appétit!" he said enthusiastically, and so you ate in silence.

The fact that he was wearing only a towel played with your mind and you tried not to stare at his body all the time, although that was getting increasingly difficult.

It wasn't long before your bowls were empty.

Woojin took them to the kitchen and when he returned, you nibbled your lower lip uneasily. He looked at you unobtrusively.

It was strange to see you sitting cross-legged, in his clothes on his couch and despite everything you looked like a princess. A sight he never imagined to see.

"Ah shit," you cursed and groaned in pain as you put too much strain on your hand.

Silently, he sat down next to you again and grabbed your hand as if it was natural. He turned it and looked at your scraped knuckles in the light. With a furrowed brow, you watched as he palpated your wrist and pulled your hand away with a hiss as a sharp pain shot through your arm.

"Ouch! Be careful, dickhead! What are you doing?" you whimpered, and he glared at you again.

"Stop bitching around! I'm trying to help so Gunwoo doesn't rip my head off. Luckily you just bruised it because you snapped your wrist when you punched him."

Questioningly, you looked at his hands, which he demonstratively clenched into fists.

"You see that? Your wrist must always be tense when you punch, otherwise you can break your hand," he explained and you made a fist as well.

"Like this?" you asked curiously, holding it out to him.

Carefully he enclosed it with his strong fingers and straightened your wrist. His skin was warm on yours and you resisted the urge to grab his hand at the last moment.

"Almost. That's it. You have to keep it straight and tense as you punches," he said, smiling delightedly. It was clear how much fun he was having teaching you some of his passion.

You caught yourself smiling pleasantly as well, as you watched the enthusiastic gleam in his eyes while he spoke. He continued to hold your hand and that's when your eyes met.

As you gazed at each other in silence, the air became electrically charged and something in your stomach fluttered uneasily.

"Do you want me to take a look at that? That looks pretty bad," he said then, pointing to the wound on your eyebrow.

Before you could even answer, he already fetched a first aid kit, which he probably needed often, and spread it out in front of you.

"Can you put some clothes on first?" you asked before he could come closer, fearing you would lose your mind if he touched you like that too. You waved your hand in front of his chest, while you tried to avoid eye contact:

„That is irritating...“

He himself seemed to have completely forgotten that he was half naked and took a pair of boxershorts from the pile of clothes and slipped into them without further ado.

„Oh really? I thought you could handle a real man“, he provoked and was obviously proud of his stupid saying. You just crossed your arms and looked up to him with raised eyebrows.

„I could if there was one here.“

Offended, he mumbled something unintelligible, which certainly was an insult and rummaged in the pile of clothes. Then he put on a black shirt with the typical 'Metallica' lettering printed on it, before he sat down in front of you again and leaned your head on the chin to the side to have a better view of the cut on your eyebrow.

With skillful moves, he prepared disinfection, a wound ointment and a plaster. It was obvious that he was skilled at this. You already knew the procedure from Gunwoo as well.

You had treated him and his best friend countless times when they came home after training or a fight. Not only boxers knew quickly about such things, but also their environment.

"Now that hurts a little bit. I'm counting to three. One..."

And already he pressed the swab with the disinfectant on the spot and you squeaked loudly in pain. It was obviously the revenge for your mean comment.

Angrily, you punched him in the shoulder. This time your wrist was tense, yet it seemed to have no effect on him.

"What the hell! You said on the count of three!" you snapped at him, squinting your eyes as your entire head seemed to be on fire. God you hated him so much.

"It must come unexpectedly. It’s better," he replied, clearly amused, and dabbed the ointment on your wound with such gentleness as you were not used to from him.

Expertly, he stuck a plaster above your eyebrow and looked at his work with satisfaction.

"Voilà!" he presented it with both hands and smiled.

"Now it's your turn!" you said then and he nodded curtly.

"Okay. But please don't make it worse than it is," he replied teasingly and you gave him an annoyed look. As you set to work dabbing the wounds, you asked in passing:

"Why did you help me?"

"You're my best friend's sister. So you're my responsibility, too."

Your eyes met for a moment and there was that crackling energy again, making your skin tingle. Quickly you averted your eyes and pressed the swab with disinfectant on his wound to stop whatever was happening. It was almost panic as you avoided his gaze. He twitched slightly, but didn't make a sound.

"I mean how did you find me?"

The question had been burning on your tongue ever since he had suddenly appeared and beaten the assholes to a mush.

"I stayed at the party to keep an eye on you. Then when you left, I followed you."

Briefly, you paused and looked at him suspiciously.

"That's kind of creepy..."

He leaned against the back of the sofa with one arm and tilted his head a little.

"Oh well, you're lucky I was there."

He was right about that. Without him, something really bad would have happened. You didn't even want to imagine how it would have turned out if he hadn't shown up like a knight in shining armour.

But then something occurred to you.

"You've been watching me? The whole time?" you asked, thinking about your little makeout session with the guy. Had he seen all of that?

"It wasn't my idea... Gunwoo wanted me to watch you."

That made more sense. Your brother had told him to do it. Woojin probably didn't care at all what happened to you. You breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't bring up making out. He probably hadn't even noticed.

You nodded slowly and began spreading the cream on his wounds.

"Thanks anyway."

He watched as your eyes wandered intently over his face, trying to get every detail. How your eyebrows lifted slightly when you spoke or how you nibbled on your lower lip when you were thinking or concentrating.

Your slender fingers felt comfortable against his skin and he secretly wished you would never stop touching him.

"There is one thing that does interest me..."

"Huh?"

"Why did you just leave the poor guy? Was he that bad?" he asked, and immediately your heart flipped over and heat shot into your cheeks. Embarrassed, you cleared your throat and tried to avoid his gaze.

So he had seen it after all and couldn't just let it go.

And the worst part was that he clearly enjoyed the way shame turned your cheeks red and you uncomfortably brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"No... he... I was... that's not the..."

You cursed yourself for only stammering coming out of your mouth, but Woojin had caught you off guard. Why were you so uncomfortable talking to him about it, and why didn't he stop looking at you so piercingly? Under no circumstances would you have told him the truth. That you had been thinking about him while someone else was all over you. You hated the fact yourself and still blamed it on the alcohol.

The corners of his mouth twitched knowingly and only now did you notice how close his lips hovered in front of yours. You had been so focused on treating his wound that you hadn't noticed how close your faces were in front of each other.

If you wanted to, you just had to lean forward a little and you could touch his lips with yours.

"So?" he asked teasingly, his voice getting a lot deeper.

His shimmering eyes made you all jittery and when he put his hand on your hip, your breathing only faltered.

"He just wasn't my type," you tried to end the subject, spreading the last of the ointment on his cheek.

"What's your type?" he continued to ask, and you hated his handsome face, prominent jawline and those engaging eyes for making you a flustered mess.

"Why do you want to know?" you mumbled, putting the ointment down and freezing as he lifted your chin with his index finger so you had to look him in the eye.

"Just out of curiosity."

Was he flirting with you? No he couldn't be. He was just messing with you and would laugh at you at any moment for taking it from him. After all, he didn't even like you and you didn't like him, so what was all this about?

"I can tell you what's not my type..."

"I'm listening."

His eyes were luminous in the dim light of his apartment. Your voice was low, but soft as velvet.

"Guys who are cheeky and ruthless. Act stupid all the time. Who don't know when to shut up. Who prefer to solve their problems with their fists rather than their mind. And think with their dick rather than their brain."

"Then I'm your walking nightmare."

You snorted in amusement and there your noses brushed against each other. The brief contact was enough to make everything go crazy in your head.

"And you? What kind of girls are you into?" you asked, just to say something.

Maybe to stop what was about to happen. He put his hand gently against your cheek and you could feel his warm breath brush against your lips as he spoke. You were both fighting an internal battle, wanting to break away from each other and put as much distance between you as necessary. However, your bodies did not obey.

"Until now, I thought I knew."

The rasp in his voice gave you goosebumps. Everything in you screamed to flee, to push him away and never speak a word to him again. But the heat rushed in your ears and your body no longer listened to you.

"What do you mea..." you were interrupted when his lips collided with yours and he pulled you stormily closer.

The defiant voice in your head grew quieter and the kiss was chaotic, emotional. Just as you knew Woojin and sensual at the same time.

His tongue slid over your lower lip and as soon as you opened your lips a little, your tongues fought for dominance. His hands slid to your hips, reaching for you, and you buried your fingers in the fabric of his shirt at his chest. Soon the whole thing was just a mess of tongues, teeth, groping and greedy touches.

All the tension between you, the anger and adrenaline of tonight unloaded between you and he tasted so addictive you never wanted to taste anything else. You didn't know if it was minutes, maybe hours, when you broke away from each other, panting.

Only then did you remember what was actually happening.

"What the... How," you stammered and ran your hands through your hair, overwhelmed. You couldn't bear to look each other in the eye for even a second, afraid of what else you would conjure up.

"I'm sorry. That was stupid," he muttered, and then you dared to look at him again. His lips lured seductively.

It all didn't matter now anyway, did it?

"Yes. It was."

He took a rasping breath as you grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and roughly pulled him closer again.

"Do it again!" you murmured, and he didn't need to be told twice. Relieved, his hands flew to your hips and your lips crashed together again. He pulled you onto his lap and you buried your fingers in his hair as you licked incessantly into each other's mouths.

The kiss was heated and more passionate than anything you had ever experienced. Like a fire it burned everything to ashes and his hands explored your body everywhere the fabric revealed a strip of skin.

"Shit you taste like candy," he murmured between kisses to your lips, spreading them along your jawline. A sigh escaped you as he grazed the sensitive spot behind your ear and you unconsciously rolled your hips against him.

He turned you on in a way that made your heart pound and your head spin. Briefly he paused and looked at the strangulation marks on your neck left by the gorilla.

Carefully he stroked the reddened areas and you thought you felt relief only from his touch.

Then he gently brushed his lips over them, caressing your skin as if he could heal it like that, and you laid your head back with your eyes closed while he worked his magic all over your neck. It was unreal how he melted your whole body just with that.

He ran his hands under your shirt and stroked your belly, your sides, up to your back. Gradually you couldn't stand it anymore. Your core pulsed excitedly and you wanted everything from him at once.

"Stop teasing!" you gasped as he sank his teeth into your neck. He lifted his gaze and looked like a puppy with those shiny eyes and excited smile.

"I can't help it. You're too cute, the way you're so desperately grinding on me."

Startled, you only now noticed how you rolled your hips against his middle. Your body had taken on a life of its own, desperately trying to create more friction to soothe the immense desire in your lower belly.

"Are you blushing?" he teased, squeezing your hips.

"Are you shy after all?"

Annoyed by his jokes and arrogance, you unceremoniously pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it aside. You could play this game, too. He should realize that he wasn't in control.

Surprised, he raised his eyebrows and his gaze was immediately glued to your naked body. He stared at your perfect breasts that he had imagined so many times when you came rushing into Gunwoo's room in those short pajama shirts that were way too small for you to yell at them to turn down the music.

"Fuck... Your tits are really perfect," escaped him and he immediately grabbed your breasts with both hands, cupped them and groped them while he spread kisses on your collarbone again.

"Do you think about my tits often?" you asked provocatively, gasping as soon as he sucked your skin and kneaded the soft flesh of your tits in his hands. The heat flowed together in a river between your legs and you could feel his hardened length through the fabric of his boxers.

"No wonder when you dress so slutty...you always run around in those short clothes at home when I'm there," he shot back less eloquent, completely distracted by your curves and soft skin. Soon his mouth closed around your nipple and he also worked your soft skin on your breasts as if he couldn't get enough.

You pushed him back roughly on his chest until he hit the back of the sofa and looked up at you with a mischievous expression on his face.

"You're insulting me while you're groping me all desperate?" you asked incredulously, taking advantage of the moment to take a breath.

"I thought you couldn't stand me?"

He pressed your hips harder against his in response, so that his hard dick pressed right up against your needy cunt. It was a little scary how big he felt through the fabric.

"I can't stand you. But I still think you're hot. Stop with the sass mouth. I know you want me!" he replied sharply and you laughed in amusement.

"You have a really overrated self-esteem."

Nevertheless, with greedy fingers you finally ripped his shirt off his body and stroked his bruises with care. His abs felt hard under your fingers and you sucked in a sharp breath as he began to rub your hips against his hard length.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, placing kisses all over your chest, nibbling on your neck. You threw your head back, growing,

"Fuck, If i didn't I wouldn't be half-naked on you."

Satisfied, he grabbed your ass and stood up with you as if you weighed no more than a feather. You held onto his neck and so he carried you to his room.

Red LED lights bathed the small room in an spicy atmosphere and in the corner of the room was a bed on which he placed you. He stepped between your legs and climbed over you until he was looking down on you.

He enjoyed the sight of your exposed body beneath him and before he could gape any further, you pulled him down to you and kissed him again.

At the same time he helped you get rid of the sweatpants and couldn’t stop touching your skin everywhere. You could feel his dick pressed against your thigh through his underwear, and your cunt tingled excitedly as his hands traveled agonizingly slowly down your belly.

"You want me to touch you, don't you?" he whispered in your ear, his fingers playing across the surface of your underwear and making you very, very aware of how wet they were.

"You are so arrogant. It's disgusting you know?" you said with a razor sharp tone that made his eyebrows twitch. It was the typical expression you always saw when you got on his nerves and managed to make him angry.

You tried not to look particularly impressed as he brushed his hand over your inner thigh, and yet as soon as he stroked your covered middle, you exhaled loudly.

"Uhh... Do you think you can resist much longer? Just admit you want me," he purred and god he had no idea how much you wanted to tear the last shred of fabric from his trained body, so that he would fuck you senseless. But instead you stubbornly withstood his gaze and let your fingers wander in circles over his chest.

"Do you really think you can satisfy me? You seem to have quite a bit to compensate for.... ah"

A short cry, more like a surprised moan escaped you as he slipped his hand unannounced into your panties and sank two fingers inside you.

Smugly, he began pumping them into your wet cunt while your mouth was open and you clung tensely to his upper arm, which he used to support himself next to your head. He looked down at you with a dangerous grin, like a predator eyeing its prey, and you could no longer hide what his touches were doing to you.

His thumb began to massage your clit at the same time and the heat in your lower abdomen clenched into a coil of pure fire. Whatever he did with his fingers made you drift off completely into the fog of ecstasy and the sinful moan he tore from you was like a reward for him.

"That sounds so much better... If I had known your moans sounded so pretty, I would have shut you up by doing this much sooner."

His words made the anger rise in you again. Why could you absolutely dislike each other, and yet it was the hottest thing you had ever experienced?

He sped up the motions of his fingers and the room was filled with the wet sounds and your moans as he memorized every expression on your face. You were beautiful the way you looked at him out of those angry big eyes, but couldn't hide the way your high rolled relentlessly closer.

"Don't you dare stop!" you gasped breathlessly, and he just laughed softly as your fingernails dug into his arm and he felt your cunt clench around his fingers.

"Don't worry. I want to see your face when you come around my fingers," he breathed against your ear and sucked on your neck, working his way back down and wrapping his lips around your nipple. He bit into it lightly while you were already starting to see stars.

His long fingers and mouth on your heated skin was enough to drive you over the top.

Trembling, you buried your hands in his hair and tugged on his strands overwhelmed as the world around you faded into white while you moaned his name as you came.

He savored your high to the last second and then he pulled his fingers out of your panties. While your chest rose and fell frantically and you tried to get back in touch with reality, he slipped his fingers into his mouth and licked your juices off of them.

Then he leaned down to you again and kissed you. With the kiss you slowly drifted back to reality. He had given you the best orgasm of your life only with his fingers. You could only imagine what it would be like to feel his dick.

The kiss was messy and hurried, tongues exploring every corner they could find and gradually swayed into sensuality. He grinded his hard dick against your inner thigh and you could clearly feel how impatient he was getting.

You felt how you became addicted to more, which is why you ran your fingers down his stomach. Even though you saw him half naked every day at training, it was something else to feel his muscles. Firm and seductive pressed against your soft body.

Almost playfully, you let your fingers wander over his waistband of boxers, sliding them in a bit as he greedily licked into your mouth and kneaded your breast with one hand.

He exhaled rattling as you rubbed your covered pussy right against his dick and he felt the soaked fabric even through his underwear. Your body was like a drug he would probably never get off of again.

His dick was so hard it was already painful and you smiled as he broke the kiss, breathlessly almost begging:

"Can I fuck you?"

"Just shut the fuck up and do it already!" you replied and it was as if you had given the starting signal for a boxing match. He tore off his underwear and got rid of your panties in record speed.

When his cock jumped free and bounced heavily against his belly, you couldn't suppress a surprised gasp.

He was indeed big... Very big.

When he noticed your gaze, he smiled with satisfaction and lined himself up with you.

"Still think I need to compensate for something?" he asked mockingly and you could feel his tip already at your entrance.

"Do you want to talk or fuck me?" you shot back as your cunt was already pulsing impatiently and you wanted to finally feel him. Even if it would hurt.

"You're so incredibly annoying..." he grumbled, and held your hips in place, so that you couldn't move back from his massive cock. Before you could retort anything snarky, he pushed in one unbroken movement inside of you and your entire body came alive with electric pleasure that has you gasping as he held you there, with his hands firmly on your hips to stop you from wiggling away. As he draws back and pushes back in so hard your vision splits with stars and heat explodes beneath your skin.

It hurt as he stretched you out and you could only see through the tears how much he enjoyed your fucked out face as he proved to you that he wasn't just talking stupid. You clawed at his back and your gasps quickly turned to pornographic moans. The pain was flooded and washed away by the arousal the more he stretched you out.

His thrusts hit something inside of you that made you soon choke on your moans, because you were still so tangled up from his fingers teasing you that you were close again already, and you knew exactly that he's never going to let you live this down.

Woojin was a professional athlete, you knew that. But now you realised behind closed doors, under the sheets, he was an olypian.

He set a fast pace, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, deeper inside of you every time. The world around you blurred in arousal and you wrapped your legs around his hips as he seemed to hit deeper with every thrust. His bed squeaked dangerously and banged loudly against the wall. Woojin's neighbors would probably barely be able to sleep a second, but you couldn't care less.

"You feel incredible," he gasped, intercepting your whimpers with intense kisses, and you felt yourself falling apart at any moment. When he perceived that your body was tensing, he intertwined his fingers with yours and pressed your hand into the mattress beside your head.

"Woojin... fuck... I'm gonna..."

You didn't remember how to form words or put them in proper order, but he understood you even without words. He read your reactions and your body like a book.

"It's okay, dollface! Come around my cock!"

At that moment, something exploded in your head and your orgasm gripped you with such force that you moaned his name loudly and your walls almost crushed him. It was like your body was burning and your brain was turning to mush. If you died now, you would be beyond pissed because you were with Woojin, but at least you had the best sex of your whole life.

"Fuck... oh fuck," he moaned, and a low growl escaped him as he too was on the verge.

"Come inside me! I'm on the pill!" you gasped and he moaned at your words.

„Shit... You're naughty."

He only thrusted into you hard one more time until he too came and shot his load deep inside you. After a few sloppy thrusts, he collapsed on top of you breathing heavily and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

So you slowly calmed down, listening to each other's heartbeat, and you stroked him dizzy over the back. It took quite a while for both of you to gradually drift back out of the thick fog of fuzzy state.

Neither dared to say a word for fear of what would happen. Silently you traced the lines of his marine tattoo and he grumbled comfortably, making your body vibrate.

"What did we do...", you whispered after a while and that's when he lifted his head, took another deep breath of your scent to store it in his mind and then rolled off you onto his back.

Suddenly everything was like before, only the heavy smell of sex in the air was new. You swallow at the awkward aftermath because you didn't think this far. You never even thought this was a possibility in any universe.

You both stared at the ceiling, trying to understand what had just happened. You pulled the blanket around your body and rolled onto your side, with your back to him.

What was that fluttering in your stomach? Why couldn't you bear to look at him?

Restlessly, you nibbled on your bottom lip and closed your eyes. Hopefully you would just wake up in your bed and all this had never happened. It would just be a dream, that you could be ashamed of, but nobody would ever know about it. Especially Woojin would never know. You had a feeling that everything he did would now somehow remind you of sex with him.

"Still hate me?" he asked into the silence and you replied:

"Definitely"

"Just as much?"

"Maybe a little less"

You raised your eyebrows in surprise when he actually laughed. You stared at the opposite wall until the corners of your mouth went up as well and you giggled too. The whole situation was too surreal to be true.

First your mortal enemy saved you from thugs and then fucked you senseless.

That's when you turned around and looked at him. He ran his hand through his thick curls and when your eyes met, you grinned like idiots. Never in your life had you expected this situation.

He also rolled onto his side until your faces hovered close to each other.

"That was a mistake," you mumbled after a while and he nodded.

"Yes... Gunwoo must never know about this."

For the first time, you fully agreed with him, and the mere thought of your brother getting to know even a glint of it gave you goosebumps. Still, you couldn't stop looking dreamily at the other and admiring each other's features. Were his cheekbones always this sharp?

"Then let's not regret it until tomorrow..." he then murmured and that was okay with you. Silently you nodded and that's when he reached out and pulled you closer by your hips under the covers.

You snuggled against his chest and he put his big arms around your body, squeezing your ass teasingly.

Just for tonight.

That's what you kept saying to each other in your mind. It was just for tonight and tomorrow all this had never happened.

After all, the whole thing had nothing to mean.

So it was okay when your lips lay on each other again and your hands wandered over each other's bodies. Just for tonight. You delayed the morning as long as possible, until you fell asleep snuggled close to him, relaxed and secure.

And with a smile on your lips.

-

The next morning, when Woojin woke up, you were gone. So were your things, and he looked in his closet for safety. Only when he saw that his clothes were indeed missing, he believed that he had not imagined the whole thing.

While eating breakfast, he glanced at his phone and spotted a message from you:

"If you tell anyone about this, you're dead."

Despite the threat, he smiled slightly and looked at the sofa where the first aid kit still lay.

You had disappeared in the early morning. It would be too strange to look him in the eyes in the morning. You didn't know what you would say and you would have liked to leave the country, never to see him again.

The worst thing was that you just couldn't stop thinking about last night. On the bus you unconsciously smelled his shirt you were wearing again and you would have loved to punch yourself.

Quietly, you unlocked your front door and were about to sneak into your room, but Gunwoo was already awake and packing his training bag. When he heard the door, he turned to you and froze when he saw the wound on your temple.

Then his gaze traveled down your body and only when he had silently looked at your torn dress in your hands as well, did he ask:

"What happened?"

You couldn't say anything. You just stood there and suddenly everything fell away from you. The attack, the beating, the feeling of the gorilla's hand around your neck, and finally the bruises in your palms from the rope.

It all came back with such force that you trembled and tears welled up in your eyes.

Immediately, your brother came up to you worriedly and wrapped you in his arms. You let everything you held in your hands fall and buried your face against his chest, while your body was shaken by heartbreaking sobs. The hopelessness and fear you had felt reverberated within you, but Gunwoo's smell and warmth softened the helpless feeling.

He was the only one you could admit your weaknesses to, and your heart instantly lightened as he stroked your hair and just held you close.

"It's all right. I'm here," he murmured reassuringly and as soon as you caught your breath, you sat down at the kitchen table where his boxing gloves were.

Then you told him everything. Well, almost everything.

You left out the thing about Woojin and the sex. After all, that had never happened.

Gunwoo's face darkened with every word and his knuckles stood out white, so tightly did he clench his hands into fists. After you finished, you restlessly played with one of his bandages lying on the table.

"Are you mad?" you asked quietly, and that was the first time he really looked at you.

"God no! I'm just glad you're okay. I should have taken better care of you..."

He blamed himself. You quickly shook your head and reached for his hand across the table.

"No it wasn't your fault. Besides, Woojin was there to save me after all."

He nodded, but his jaw twitched tensely. Then he stood up and hugged you so tightly that you could barely breathe. But that was okay.

As he continued packing his things, you took your first real look around the kitchen. The cabinet under the sink was open and there were pipes and towels everywhere.

"What happened here?"

Gunwoo zipped up his bag and slipped into his jacket to leave for training.

"A pipe broke... I've already called a plumber and Mom really wanted to fix it herself. Could you help out at the café today?"

"Sure. Then I'll bring you pastries to training this afternoon."

Gunwoo's eyes sparkled with delight and he nodded vehemently.

"That sounds good. I'll see you later then."

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you tousled his hair in revenge before he disappeared through the door.

Shortly after, you fell back into bed and slept for another hour before heading to the café.

-> [3]

—

© Sky-yuna — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

Taglist (open):

@marked-unknown @littlebaby-bunbun @officialshania @choisoorin @fanaticnae @lola2004sworld @penny44224 @artisticbirb @amnmich @tasteskz-sworld

[ofthecaravel]

do you think its expensive for greta van fleet to have that marble statue of adonis on loan from the met for that long? like i know they need a drummer but

[fayes-fics]

hello!! can I please get a drabble that takes place in the 70s with artist boho slut benedict x reader? thank you 🙈

Kinktober: Benedict + Chem / High Sex

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Paring: Benedict Bridgeton x fem!reader, Modern 1970s AU

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, use of recreational drugs, sexual acts while high/under the influence, 69 position, oral sex (m to f, f to m) blowjob and cunnilingus, facesitting, vaginal fingering, deepthroat.

Author’s note: hi Nonny. Well, this request immediately made me think of boho hippy artist Ben selling his art at a music festival and voila, a whole AU was born for me. Honestly, this universe was so fun I might write more in the future 😁 Anyway, I hope you enjoy! 🧡

You have a cock in your mouth when the drug kicks in. A corkscrew of colour swimming before your eyes has you pausing to make a noise of surprise, not just because of the fantastic suction around your clit.

“Holy shit….” you mumble, pulling up to take a breather.

“It kicked in, huh?” Benedict smirks as you look down between your legs to his handsome face.

“Yeah… fuckkkkk,” you stutter, unmoored.

This wasn't how you envisioned this music festival going, but damn, if you aren't having the time of your life.

Just an hour ago, you arrived as the sun set, still yet to find your friends, when you stumbled upon a stall selling captivating artwork. You felt utterly compelled to purchase a piece, even before you saw the beautiful, square-jawed, blue-eyed, topless man selling it.

Daisy chains looped into his wavy chestnut locks, flared jeans hanging dangerously low over an Adonis belt—a Grecian statue made flesh. By the time he informed you that he was indeed the artist and, after a few drinks, offered you a tab of something to “start your festival right”, you were already his.

And so here you now, in the back of his VW bus, windows concealed by vibrant tie-dyed fabrics, chemicals coursing in your bloodstream as you bring each other pleasure. Sitting naked upon his face, draped over his warm body, his cock in your mouth. A circuit of decadent, lush delight. And now….

Now, every feeling is heightened.

You dive back onto him with something approaching ferocity, savouring his silken but steely cock passing through your lips, each contour sparking synesthesia behind your eyelids. When his tongue ploughs deep into your pussy it ripples up your insides into your belly, settling as a fire behind your ribs. And when he sucks your clit, it’s as if you can trace the signal racing to your brain from those millions of afferent nerve endings.

Strains of music from the distant soundstage seep through the popped skylight above as his long, artistic fingers swirl patterns on the notches of your spine. His sinewy arms wrapped tight around your hips, encouraging you to use his face and tongue as if he were a vessel built purely for your enjoyment.

And fuck if he isn't—he tastes, embodies, and imbues hedonism. His skin is smooth and smells of citrus, earthy bark and charcoal. His cock is perfect, a delight that fills your mouth and makes your bones liquefy at the idea he might fuck you.

You spiral your tongue around his head in a tempo to match the tattoo his drums over your clit, all your concentration pinpointed on these mirrored movements, sinful unhurried sensualism. Luxuriating as if you have hours to spend together, with no destination in mind other than a memorable experience. 

When he buries two fingers inside you, your cry muffled around his cock, you can feel his smirk in the stubble abraiding your labia. Well, if he wants to notch things a little higher….

Mind looping with rainbows, you take a deep breath and sink until his cock is in your throat. The feral sound he makes hot against your clit like another drug you could get addicted to. He groans your praises, a hand straying into your hair to hold your head down, his plush lips snagging your engorged pearl as you hold still, images of colourful dancing bears before your eyes, each bearing his face contorted with ecstasy. Something about him makes you want to be the best he has ever had. Make him not want to leave your side; make him not want to get dressed ever again; just spend eternity entwined in your body.

You pull up, and then after a few deep sucking draws that have him groaning and begging, you sink down again, fighting the need to breathe, captivated by each novel new image your mind supplies. All the while, he tries to match you, lashing your clit, fingers drumming your g spot as the other wraps your ponytail around his fist. When you whimper around him, his sac tightens against your nose.

“Fuck, I'm going to come,” he growls in warning, yet still you stay, knowing what is coming and craving it.

A pulse runs the length of his cock, and then you feel it, a thick salty rope shooting right into your throast that tastes like victory and desire. You suck and swallow all you can as you pull up, needing to breathe, and as he sings your praises, you nuzzle him, licking him clean as if it was the tastiest treat in the world.

“Your turn,” his warning glittering and smokey with promise. 

It's then you experience your first orgasm high on drugs. Your body on fire as he expertly suckles, swirls, and even bites your swollen, soaked flesh, fingers buried deep in your leaking pussy, like he lives only for your nectar and rapture.

“You taste like heaven,” he groans, as you keep kissing his cock while it softens, something for you to wrap your lips around, to muffle your screams as he pushes you towards heights you have never scaled. Hyperaware of everything: sounds, smells, his touch, the sight of him pinned under you, so very eager to please. You reach out and grab his hand, lacing your fingers together tightly just as you tumble over the edge. 

Fireworks, lightning, strobe lights, all multicoloured, going off in your mind as you float high above as if an untethered balloon, at once a million miles away and yet also rooted so deep in your body, feeling everything in every nerve, every cell, every synapse fire. 

He moves behind you as you collapse to one side, breathlessly panting, mind adrift, curling up almost foetal, overloaded by everything. Wrapping his warm body like a protective shell around you, his nose buried in your hair, his arms caging you, his legs bracketing yours.

“That was transcendent. Truly magical,” he murmurs, dazed, and you have to agree.

No taglist as these drabbles are short

[otteranha]

This fandom needs that ole’ ran-outside-in-a-towel-and-accidentally-locked-myself-out-naked trope. Like… freshman year for the Party, pre-Spring break. There's construction being done on the room they normally hold Hellfire and the school won't give them an alternative spot. Dustin, Lucas & Mike convince Steve to let them have Hellfire at his house. Steve isn’t thrilled but he agrees.

Eddie isn’t thrilled either and he shows up early that afternoon to set up and get any gloves-off cruelty between him and Steve out of the way before the kids get there. Only to find that no one is answering the door. What gives, right?- if Harrington set this whole thing up to leave them all out in the cold, man fuck that. He goes around the back of the house, over the fence into the yard and finds Steve—

Steve was about to take a shower when he noticed the hot water wasn’t working. Calling the repairman would mean he’d have to talk to his dad, and he really wanted the hot water now and to talk to his dad never, so he grabbed a towel real quick and checked the water heater in the basement. No problem there. So he just popped out to check the water heater in the pool shed, because maybe it’s not just the house. And he didn’t put clothes on first because he thought he’d only be out there for a second. Except the door swung shut. And locked. His mom moves the hide-a-key periodically for “security purposes” and he has no idea where the damn thing is this month.

Not to worry. Steve's been sneaking out of his house since he was a whippersnapper. He can just climb in his bedroom window. Except he's been home alone for almost a month and hasn't needed to leave his window unlocked since he can come and go as he please. In other news the roof is covered in wet leaves and is much slipperier than usual. Fortunately he doesn't fall that far, nothing hurt but his pride (ok, and his ass will probably be black and blue for a while). Unfortunately when he fell the towel got snagged on the drain pipe and is now stuck on the roof. He'll have to climb back up and get it, then try to find some way back inside before the kids get there. But he needs a second- ok? So he flops back on one of the pool chairs, an arm draped over his eyes, nursing his injured dignity while he regroups.

And that's the scene Eddie Munson stumbles upon. Steve Harrington, sprawled out in all his glory like the goddamn Barberini faun. So a second boy takes a tumble on the Harrington property that afternoon, as the sight causes Eddie to lose his grip and his focus, and instead of vaulting the gate he topples forward over it and face plants on the cement pool deck.

"Shit!" "Fuck!"

"Sonofa- !"

"Holy shit man!" And so forth in that manner as Steve squawks in shock and covers himself. Then it registers who exactly the trespasser is and he abandons modesty and leaps, outraged, to his feet.

Eddie finds that in the face-plant he has bitten a noticeable bit off the tip of his tongue. Now he's standing, staring at a nude Steve Harrington, drooling blood all over his patio. If there's a classical statue of an Adonis posed with hands on hips looking wildly annoyed Eddie doesn't know of it. Any witty remark he could make about late September not being an ideal time for sunbathing au naturale is obstructed by his poor, bitten tongue, so Eddie has to settle for mere communication as he tries to ask Steve what the actual fuck he's doing?

"Came out to check the water heater and the door blew shut," Steve says sheepishly.

"Tho ou theck the plumbinth naketh?" Eddie raises an eyebrow.

Steve points to the roof. "I tried to get in through my window and slipped. Towel's stuck on the roof." A look of panic flashes into his eyes, "Wait- if you're here- what time is it? Oh shit, are the kids on the way?"

Eddie shakes his head. "I came by eahly tho thet uth." He holds up one finger, gesturing Steve to wait, then plucks a safety pin from his vest and kneels to examine the patio door. It takes him only a few minutes to finagle it open and he turns sliding the door wide with a flourish. "Entrez-vous," he asks gallantly, but it comes out "Enthreth-vouth?" and Steve just gives him a confused look as he stalks past into the house.

Instead of dashing up the stairs to dress Steve points Eddie toward the kitchen, while he snags a towel from the powder room in passing- not quite large enough, but better than nothing. Steve gestures Eddie to sit while he hands him a wet paper towel and wraps an ice pack in a clean dish towel. Eddie tends to his bloody mouth, though without the distraction it's an ordeal to keep his eyes from wandering over Steve's physique. Not good. It's not the locker room, no herd to hide amongst, no plausible deniability that he wasn't staring at anyone in particular. Because Steve Harrington is a Rodin, a Donatello, a goddamn Michelangelo. Steve Harrington is killing him. Killing him.

"You can set everything up in the dining room. I'll be upstairs," says the Rodin, the Donatello, the goddamn Michelangelo. "And keep icing that mouth. Last thing I need is for Mike Wheeler to decide he's leading this dog and pony show because you can't do your little incantations or whatever."

He turns and bounds for the stairs. Eddie watches him go. And yeah, that towel does not wrap all the way around. Not even close.

[violetsaffron5]

NSFW Gojo Week (4)

Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists

Pairing: Gojo x f!Reader

As the executive assistant, it's your job to make sure the company anniversary event goes on without a hitch. Your boss, however, has another idea for your talents.

cw: possessive gojo, power dynamic, boss x employee/ceo x assistant, edging, degradation, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, hate sex (kinda)

words: 2.2k

Masterlist • Day 3 • Day 5

Sometimes you hate your boss. You really, really do.

He loves to hear the sound of his own voice, loves to tease and poke fun at you any chance he gets. He’s also impatient, rash, has no regard for others and the authority they hold.

And sometimes he’s just plain mean.

But god, if he isn’t fucking sexy.

White hair tousled just right, crystalline eyes that shine bright with frosted lashes. When he smiles, his eyes crinkle slightly in the corner adding to his perfection. An absolute Adonis if you’ve ever seen one.

Sometimes you forget how much you hate him. Especially when he hands you his black credit card telling you to find the perfect dress for your company's upcoming fiftieth-anniversary event.

Everyone in the company attends these events and as the CEO’s personal assistant, your attendance is required. You need to radiate elegance, beauty, and grace to fit in with the elite echelon that will also be present.

It’s important that those with status and power within the company look their best. The men will be in hand-crafted, tailored suits, and the woman in luxury designer gowns.

You know when Gojo tells you to pick something out for the event that he expects you to choose something classy, yet sexy. It’ll show skin, but not too much.

He says it’s because he doesn’t appreciate the way other men leer at you. Part of you has always wondered if it’s something else.

When it comes to Satoru Gojo, there are two things you’re sure of:

First, he doesn’t have a partner. Being one of Tokyo's most eligible bachelors, a playboy like him doesn’t seem to be interested in settling down.

Second, you don’t miss the looks he gives you every day in the office.

You notice the way he watches you at your desk, just outside his office, from time to time, chewing on your pen as you listen intently to whoever is on the other line trying to schedule a meeting with him. You’ve also noticed the way he focuses on your lips as you talk, sitting across his desk squeezing your thighs together, squirming under his intense gaze. And you can feel the hole he’s burning into your ass when you walk away, hips swaying back to your own space.

On the night of the anniversary event you wear a black, floor-length dress with two slits up to your thighs, pinches at your waist perfectly, and shows off your bust. You haven’t seen Gojo yet, but you’re sure he’ll appear at any moment.

All of the board members, higher-ups, and competitors are here tonight to celebrate the company's accomplishments throughout the years. In the little circle you stand in talking with several of them, you recognize one in particular who has come to see Gojo several times over the years.

Naoya Zenin, with his bleach-blonde hair and designer tux, hands you a drink with a Cheshire grin while looking you up and down, “You know, you look great for your age. You should wear things that accentuate your womanly features more often.”

You tilt your head to the side and blink several times at his backhanded compliment before gaining your composure and accepting his drink. You would love nothing more than to give him a taste of his own medicine right now, but anything you say or do would reflect poorly on the business, and now isn’t the time for that.

Before Naoya has a chance to insult you again, a large hand snakes around your waist, pulling you into him.

“What’s going on here?” Gojo’s tone is icy, accusatory, but for what, you’re not sure.

“Oh nothing much,” Naoya says eyes flickering between the two of you, “Just chatting with your personal assistant.”

You glare at him while Gojo grabs the drink Naoya gave you from your hand, sniffing it quickly before handing it back to his competitor.

“Those of us presenting awards tonight aren’t allowed to drink until after the ceremony. There’s still plenty of work that needs to be done before we can relax.”

Gojo swiftly presses the drink back into Naoya’s hand causing it to spill all over his suit, causing the man to roll his eyes and grumble before walking away.

Turning to Gojo, you smile meekly while adjusting his tie. As expected, he looks better than ever in his fitted black suit, “Thanks for getting me out of that situation. That guy’s an asshole.”

He’s watching you with an expression you can’t read, but he does nod slowly in acknowledgment, “I need your help getting some last-minute changes organized before the announcements and awards are presented.”

Things like this aren’t uncommon, having to change the presentation or make other small things so everything runs smoothly at these events, so you studiously walk with Gojo to the elevator, making your way to his office on the top floor.

He keeps his arm locked around your waist in the elevator, and all it takes is one look. One simple look of you looking up to meet his azure gaze, eyes staring at your lips before closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours.

It doesn’t take long until you’re laying on your boss's desk, legs spread wide, cunt on full display as curls two fingers, hitting your sweet spot.

“G-Gojo, please,” You’re begging for the release he’s denied you of several times already, before feeling a hard smack to your ass, causing you to yelp and arch your back from the sting.

“I’ve already told you. When we fuck, call me Satoru.”

Tears are forming in the corner of your eyes, hips thrusting up to meet his hand, searching for anything to press against your aching clit as you whine, “Sa-Satoru, please, please!”

The top of your dress has been pulled down, breasts exposed, and bouncing with every thrust. The hem has been lifted over your hips, bunched up at your waist. But aside from his tie having been loosened and a few of the top buttons undone, he’s still totally clothed.

“Please what, baby?” He cocks his head to the side, a saccharine grin plastered on his face.

Your brain is mush at this point, but you don’t care. Rutting your hips up, he chuckles, letting his thumb slowly graze over your clit, just long enough to tease before moving it away.

“I need - fuck - I need to cum, please.”

He quirks an eyebrow before cooing, “You need to cum?”

A soft whine leaves your lips as you shake your head yes.

Satoru snickers rubbing his thumb over your neglected clit in small tight circles, “See, I don’t really think you do. You need water for hydration, air to breathe. But you don’t need to cum.”

Your legs tremble and twitch, the thread that’s formed in your belly threatening to snap at any moment. And he knows, which is why he removes his thumb from your clit at the last possible second.

Tears well in the corner of your eye as you gasp out several obscenities at the loss of stimulation, unsure of what you even said when your back arches off the desk.

“It would have been better to say you deserve to cum. But even then, that begs the question.”

You look at him with furrowed brows and decide you really do fucking hate him. You knew you did, but you’re always blinded when he’s nice and generous to you.

Even though he had the face of an angel, he’s actually the devil and you should have known as soon as he kissed you, this is how your time together was going to go.

“Do you deserve to cum?” He asks seriously, pumping his fingers in and out of your core.

“Y-yes.”

His eyes widen as he laughs - laughs - at your answer.

“Really? Do you really think so? With the way you smile at Nanami and Suguru, and laugh at their jokes in the break room? That I wouldn’t see you were giving that pathetic, fucking Zenin bastard ‘fuck me’ eyes when he handed you that cocktail?”

You huff at his words, sucking in a sharp breath between your teeth, “Is your ego really so fragile you think I’d flirt with any of them over you?”

He increases his pace at your remark, rubbing his long fingers along the spot on the inside that has you seeing stars, legs trembling once again from having been denied your release only seconds or minutes prior, you’re not sure.

“Ask nicely.”

“What?”

He glares at you, “Ask nicely and I’ll think about letting you cum.”

“Please, please, please, I’ll do anything!” You whine, so pathetic, so pretty with the thought of your release being within reach, “Please fuck me, please let me cum.”

“Fine. You’re so fuckin’ needy.” He breathes, withdrawing his hand from your core, you whimper at the loss of being filled as he works to undo his belt, the prongs clinking against the buckle as his slacks fall to the floor.

You sit up on your elbows, watching his cock spring free as soon as he releases it from the confine of his briefs. You snake your lip between your teeth at the sight, looking up to meet his cocky grin as he pumps himself a few times.

Of course, he has a dick just as pretty as his face, huge, and the tip perfectly pink.

Satoru hovers over you, the blunt tip of his cock slipping past your entrance as you inhale sharply from being stretched. He goes slower than you expect, savoring every moment of entering you for the first time. His large hands grip your waist so tight there’s sure to be bruises later, in an effort to stop himself from bottoming out immediately.

“Baby, you’re so wet,” He mutters, slowly moving his hips, letting you adjust to the feeling of being filled by him. So different from his attitude just moments before when he was hellbent on edging you within an inch of your life.

He rocks his hips, gently, shallowly a few times before sliding all the way out and slamming back in; moaning, throwing his head back as lewd squelching echoes in the room.

“Look at you,” Satoru coos, “Such a cockslut. Letting her boss fuck her brains out.” You clench around him automatically at his words, and he hisses, leaning over you. “Ha - you like that?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You moan out as he increases his pace, watching as your tits bounce in time with his thrusts.

Grabbing your legs, he throws them over his shoulder, leaning down and crashing his lips with yours, literally folding you in half. You cry out in pleasure at just how deep he’s able to go, allowing him to slip his tongue past your lips.

Just like you’ve always imagined, his lips are soft and full against yours; his kisses are needy and hurried, like if he doesn’t do this now, he may never get the chance again.

“Don’t cum.” He demands as you clench around him, heat in your core building and building once again.

Your eyes widen at his request, nails digging into the nape of his neck and tugging his hair, “What? Why?”

His long arms reach across the desk, hands gripping the mahogany so hard on the other side his knuckles are white, snapping his hips into yours as he fucks you faster, harder, and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as you whine and moan against him trying your hardest to hold back your impending orgasm.

Removing your legs from his shoulders, he easily lifts you from the desk, kissing feverishly as he walks you over to the full-length windows in his office.

You gasp, as your back hits the cool window, your back and ass on full display for all of Tokyo - of course, they won't be able to actually see it, considering you’re on the top floor of one of the tallest buildings in the city.

“You’re coming with me on all my business trips from now on,” He sighs as you kiss along his neck jaw, nipping at his earlobe while he pistons his hips into yours, “Been wanting to do this for so long.”

He’s fucking you within an inch of your life, and unable to hold back any further, shattering around him as your mouth falls slack, vision going white from the intensity.

“Shhh, baby,” He coos, “We gotta get back s-soon.”

His hips falter and stutter against yours, feeling just how hard you’re gripping around him, sloppily kissing into you as he lets out a low groan, finding his own release not long after you.

You’re still against the window, panting as he continues fucking you through his release, coming down from your high. Both of your fluids dripping obscenely onto the floor below.

As you work on catching your breath, Satoru helps you stand on shaky legs, lazily kissing your lips as you hold onto his arms and shoulder for support. Leaning against the window, you wipe his sweat-covered bangs off his forehead before removing the lipstick stains littering his jaw and neck with your thumb.

Just as the two of you finish adjusting your clothes, someone rasps on his office before opening it.

Satoru is quick to cage you in against the window, hiding your face from whoever just entered.

Nanami, judging by the sound of his voice, “Gojo. The awards are about to start.” “Uh, yeah. We’ll - I’ll be down in a minute.”