#under your spell fest

[underyourspellfest]

We are excited to announce a new sapphic Harry Potter fest : Under Your Spell!

This is an anonymous fest that aims to highlight sapphic characters and ships in the Harry Potter universe as well as the music of queer women and other trans folks!

Song suggestions open : June 3rd Claiming opens : July 1st Works due : October 13th Posting begins : October 20th

Full information can be found on our GUIDELINES page! Stay tuned for more!

[lovebugism]

hi!! could I possibly request something with Eddie or Steve with their chronically ill gf? I have POTS and although I don't full on faint, I get super fainty often and can lose my vision a little sometimes from that, and I think it would be cute to see how either boys would be with a partner like that (IF NOT THAT'S TOTALLY OKAY, THIS IS A VERY SELF INDULGENT REQUEST)

i tried to make this more general since i don't personally have pots, but it ended up being very self-indulgent bc i do get fainting spells quite often so enjoy hahah :D — the one where eddie munson is a very panicky caregiver (established relationship, hurt/comfort | 1.2k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

The hottest day of the season weighs heavily upon you. The golden hour sunlight and sticky summer air seep into your bones, sucking all the energy from your already tired body. You feel a bit like a vampire now — a withering thing wasting away in the center of Eddie Munson’s bed, with nothing but a clicking fan beside you blowing hot air around the room.

Eddie seems largely unfazed by the summer weather despite his metalhead qualities, which should otherwise clash with the heat. 

He’s shed his leather jacket for the first time all year. The thrifted t-shirt he wears below it leaves his pale, tattoed arms on display. You can see the tendons in them pulsing every time he strums lazily at his acoustic guitar. His wild curls, more untamed than usual in such humidity, are pulled out of his face with one of your hair ties. A few stubborn strands stick to his face still — now a darker shade of brown, going damp from the sweat beading on his jaw and forehead.

You watch him tilt his head back to shake his bangs from his eyes, then smile to yourself when the attempt proves fruitless. His hair’s grown much too long now — enough to be perpetually frustrating. Not that Eddie cares to acknowledge it, anyway.

“I think it’s time for a haircut, Eds,” you try to tease, though the words come out strangely heavy on your tongue. They sound lightyears away as they spill from your mouth, and the thought alone makes you dizzy. Dizzier.

Eddie’s face, glimmering and softly flushed, screws in a boyish pout. “Don’t say that. You know I hate that word.”

“Look at your bangs, Eds! They’re way too long—”

The mattress squeaks softly under your weight when you go to reach for him. You’re barely able to sit upright without your head spinning. It’s like you blink once, and suddenly you’re underwater — vision blurry, ears ringing, the world swimming with various indistinct shapes. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and sit back again.

It takes Eddie a moment too long to notice.

“No, they’re not— See?” He pauses his strumming to muss at his curls. His ringed fingers tousle his already frizzy bangs to get them out of his eyes. He smiles all cheeky at you then, as he glances at you over his shoulder. His smile ebbs at the twisted look on your face. “Hey… You okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer immediately, though the pinched look to your features never wavers. 

“Okay. Yeah,” Eddie nods. “But… Are you?”

You squeeze your eyes shut until it hurts — until blue and white stars start to twinkle in the nothingness. But even in the quote-unquote nothingness, you can still feel the world spinning around you. It’s like you’re on a sailboat in the middle of the ocean, swaying in time with the rocky tides even though you’re sitting still. The notion makes your swimmy head spin. 

“Yeah,” you repeat, pitched higher this time as you dig your palms into your eye sockets. A feeble attempt to ease the dizziness. “I just— I just got a little dizzy all of a sudden. But I’m fine.”

Eddie starts reeling immediately. “Shit. Are you… Are you gonna pass out?” he stammers and rises suddenly from the bed. He leaves his guitar at his feet as he rushes to you. The mattress bounces under you and makes you feel sicker. His panicking makes you feel sicker, too.

“I don’t think so,” you answer, voice quiet and faraway.

“You don’t think so?” Eddie echoes as he looms at your side. 

You can’t see him, but you know he’s there. You can feel his shadow and the heat radiating from his lanky form. His ringed hands sit awkwardly out in front of him, aching to comfort you but frightened of making it worse. 

“Do you— Do you want me to do something? Do you need me to get you anything? Like… Like a glass of water or—”

“Eds. I’m fine,” you interject a bit too firmly for your poorly state. “It’ll pass, just… Just sit down.”

“I can’t,” he squirms. “You’re makin’ me nervous, babe.”

“Standing on top of me isn’t helping, Eds.”

The boy sits gingerly at your side, then. He doesn’t move a muscle as he waits for you to tell him what to do. Obedient but hardly patient. He tries not to fidget too much, lest he add to your unease, but he buzzes with worry in the meantime. He watches with his heart in his throat as you finally take your hands from your face.

His wide, chocolate eyes dart over your pallid features. “You okay?” he whispers.

“Mhm,” you hum in the affirmative, though you haven’t yet tried to open your eyes. 

The mattress feels less like a wobbling water bed now, but you’re still scared of what the world will look like — if everything will be slightly askew or flipped upside down entirely.

“Can you try to look at me?” the boy presses gently.

You peek one eye open and turn your chin to look at him. The subtle movement ends up being an obvious mistake. “Fuck,” you curse in a quiet murmur, shutting your eyes when the world goes staticky again.

“Don’t move so fast, babe. You’ll pass out,” Eddie chuckles despite the panicked ache in his chest. 

He moves slowly so as not to jostle you too much — lifting his arm to rest over your shoulder and pulling you very carefully to his chest. His free hand covers your eyes and rests over your temple. He squishes his cheek against your hair.

The humidity doesn’t often allow for such contact, but the heat isn’t nearly as strong as Eddie Munson’s love for you. He holds you close in spite of the slightly agonizing way your skin sticks together, fully content to melt with you completely.

“‘M not gonna pass out,” you murmur, words sitting heavy in your mouth.

“Yeah,” Eddie scoffs. “‘Cause slurring your words like you’re drunk all of a sudden is real convincing, sweetheart.”

“M fine,” you insist anyway.

“Yeah?”

“Well, the world’s not spinning anymore, at least.”

“Good,” Eddie hums, smacking a chaste kiss to your head. “Lay down for me, alright? I wanna get you some water. And maybe something salty. That shit’s supposed to help, isn’t it?”

You whine in protest when he starts to move. Less because of how faint you are, and more because of how little you want him to leave. 

“No. Later. Don’t move,” you grouse.

“I gotta make sure you’re alright, babe,” the boy laughs through the warmth blooming in his chest, a sparkling sort of pride perhaps, as you curl further into his side.

“I’m fine right now,” you mumble tiredly. “But if you stop holdin’ me like this, I won’t be.”

“Ah, right…” Eddie sighs in defeat. “Guess I’m stuck here then, huh?”

You nod slowly, cheek rubbing along the cotton fabric of his shirt. “Mhm.”

He smiles softly to himself, wider than he usually allows, ‘cause there’s nothing metal about being a lovesick puppy. But, in truth, he’s happy to be stuck here with you — even with your swimmy head and humid air and clicking desk fan that’s hardly working now. The circumstances a mildly inconvenient, sure, but he’d take a billion inconvenient circumstances if it meant getting to be with you.

Lovesick puppy, indeed.

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Lovestruck

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Word Count: 1026

Summary: Steve has been holding in his feelings for a while now and finally decides he is ready to express them.

Warnings: Soft smut, unprotected sex, kissing, hand job, oral (fem), Steve with a beard (yes it’s a warning), using “accidental I love you’s during sex & sleepy domestic sex prompts.”

A/N 1: Thank you to my beta readers @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @pigwidgeonxo 💜 (any mistakes in spelling & grammar are my own. I wrote this on my phone)

A/N 2: divider by @whimsicalrogers & header by me.

A/N 3: This is for @mercurial-chuckles for their Smutty September Fest.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. It has been stolen if you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

Steve was usually up at the break of dawn to get his morning run done. He decides to stay in bed this morning as he holds your naked form close to his chest. Your soft snores fill his ears as he lightly chuckles to himself. His hand caresses your arm as he takes in your soft scent of vanilla and lilac. The scent soothes him as he relaxes in bed with you, contemplating how to express his new emotion, love. He has known for months that he loves you but has never expressed it because he was afraid it was too soon in your relationship. When was the right time to express it? As you try to cuddle closer he determines that today would be it. 

He moves his head to the side and kisses your forehead gently. You let out a soft whine and start to stir from your sleep. Your hand lightly drags across his stomach causing him to groan from his cock growing hard. Only your gentle touch could make him feel this turned on and needy for more. His lips kiss you again and he feels you start to stretch your limbs. Your right hand disappears under the blankets and softly strokes his length. Your lips kiss his chest as your hand strokes Steve up and down, drawing out his quiet groans. 

“Good morning, Steve,” you sleepily whisper as you slowly stroke his cock the way he likes. 

“Mor-morning love. Fuck, don’t stop.” Steve lets out a deep groan as your hand tightens around him as you work his cock faster. 

Steve’s hand moves to your breasts and lightly rolls your nipple between his fingers. You end up gasping out from the pleasure it brings you. He is trying his best to focus on you and not what that hand of yours is doing. If you keep stroking him the way you are, Steve knows he will cum before he even gets started. He gently rolls you to your back, your hand letting go of him, while he moves down your body kissing his way to where your pussy is. He softly pushes your legs apart and licks a stripe up your pussy then tenderly kisses your clit. You try to close your thighs around his head but his hands keep you wide open. Steve starts to eat you like a man starved. His tongue dives between your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit and all you can do is moan while he takes you apart. 

Your fingers find purchase in his hair as you feel his beard giving you the best burn while he takes you higher and higher. The knot in your stomach starts to form as you moan his name over and over again until finally, you fall off that ledge. Your arousal soaks his beard and all he can do is groan against you. Steve finally slows down as you start to twitch from being overstimulated. He makes his way back up your body, licking your arousal from his face. Steve situates himself between your legs as you stare up at him sleepily. He leans down and kisses your lips, his tongue and yours caressing one another in a dance for dominance. Your legs wrap around his waist as his cock rubs against your wet pussy. Together you grind against one another until finally Steve’s tip catches on your entrance. Pulling slightly back from the kiss Steve smiles down at you.

“God, I love you, sweetheart. With all my heart and everything that I am. There’s no one else I want to spend my life with.”

Your eyes shine bright up at his blue ones. Did you hear him right in your sleepy state? Did he just confess his love? 

“Did you just say you loved me?” You asked.

He smiles down at you. “I did. I know it took some time but I mean it. I’m so in love with you, sweetheart.”

Your lips crashed against his again as tears welled up in your eyes. “I love you too, Stevie. Make love to me.”

With your answer, Steve pushes his cock into your wet pussy. The feel of his long, thick cock stretching you always takes your breath away. As he bottoms out you moan his name. Pulling his hips back to retreat to just the tip he gives you a hard thrust. Together you both make love to one another. Every thrust, every roll of your hips has you both groaning into the heavens above. There was no rush, just two bodies becoming one in the moment. 

Steve kisses your neck and whispers, “I love you,” into your ear.

Your fingers scratch down his back as he finds that special spot inside you. It nearly has you choking on a gasp and Steve knows you are close by your walls clenching around his manhood. 

“I love you too, Stevie,” you gasp out your reply. 

Steve speeds up his thrusts, skin starting to slap against skin, as he pounds into you. You can do nothing but hold on to him, your heels digging into his back as he takes you apart again. The knot forming in your stomach instantly breaks like a dam and you cum hard for him. Thrusting faster into you Steve chases his end and cums deep inside you. 

You both lay all tangled up together in bed and chuckle. 

“I can’t believe you said you loved me finally during sex Steve.”

He blushes at you, trying to hide his face in your neck. “I meant what I said. I love you so much that I want to wake up every morning and go to sleep every night telling you how much I love you.” 

“I want that too Steve. How about we get cleaned up and make breakfast.” 

“I would love that sweetheart. But first I’m going to take you in the shower again. I want to hear how much you love me while I take you apart.”

You squealed in delight as Steve chased you into the shower. It would be an amazing day now that you know how he felt.

taglist 2024

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@fictional-affairs

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@thefallenbibliophilequote

@what-is-your-plan-today

@wolfsmom1

@allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover

@felicitylemon

@teenytinybumblebeee

@oceanwaterfall

@josiewinters1999

@mercurial-chuckles

@thezombieprostitute

[darlingshane]

better than indica

Sam Rossi x GN!Reader

Summary: Sam needs a distraction from his pain, and you're happy to help him out.

Content/Warnings: 18+. Explicit, Smut, BJ, Come Swallowing, Drug Mention, Pet names.

Word Count: 1k // AO3 Link.

A/N: This was written for Naughty or Nice Prompt fest @bernthirst-events. Prompt: Giving Sam Rossi head.

A shiver runs down your spine as you rid your body of clothes in the dim light room of the motel. Though the heat is on, the blistering cold from a winter night clings to your skin even after closing the door. It’s Sam stare that thrills you to be fair. He's lying on his back, head propped on a pillow. His shirt is off, the honey soft glow of the lamp highlights the curves of his torso, warms up his bare skin. His jeans are still on, belt buckled low down his waist. You can see the defined lines of Adonis belt that trail down his lower abdomen, ending somewhere underneath the denim.

Sam was half asleep when you entered the room and now, his eyes are wide open, holding his breath, watching you carefully remove every layer of fabric away from your body until there's nothing left but your underwear. Even though your back is turned to him, you can feel the fire of his browns tenderly caressing and warming every inch of your back.

When you turn around, his eyes have shut down, but you know he’s fully awake by the way the denim fabric bulges below the silver buckle. That’s all it takes to make him hard these days. Just a gaze. Just some exposed skin. And you're no better. You're just as easily turned on by laying eyes on him. Exactly like this moment right here as you slowly crawl onto the mattress from the way down, you can feel that tingle between your legs of being so close to him. His scent is soft but blissfully intoxicating. The tip of your nose grazes his beard as you get into position on all fours, hovering over his body.

“I know you’re awake, honey,” you whisper oh so dangerously close to his lips. “Saw you watching me.”

The corners of his lips draw a bashful grin as his eyes flick open.

“I didn't mean to stare–” one of his hands finds your arm. Your skin sticks out as he gently draws circles with his thumb along your forearm.

“It’s okay, baby. I like it when you look at me.” You plant a soft kiss on his mouth and tug his belt. “Why are these still on?”

“I was too tired to take them off. You know how it goes.”

“Yeah? Bum leg giving you a hard time tonight again?” Your fingers dance slowly along the line of his waistband. “Do you need a little distraction?”

“Need a big distraction.”

“Okay, lemme take care of you.”

Glancing down, you unbuckle his belt and open his fly. Then you find his stare as your hand slips under the elastic of his underwear. You bite your lip watching his expression turn as you gently place your palm over his mild erection and massage it ever so carefully until it starts to swell harder. You curl your fingers a little stronger each time, filling your fist with his firm length. Your head bows to capture his mouth, and he feeds you the sweetest moan as you pump him a little rougher, making him spill a few early drops all over your fingers. You use those to up the rhythm and let his head spin away from the pain. Once he’s completely surrendered to your touch, you pull away from his kiss, scooting back to kneel between his legs. You peel his jeans along with his boxers further down to uncover the erect monument you've built at his center.

Licking your lips, you glance at his eyes to see him fully immersed in a lust spell as you bow down to take him in your mouth. Without breaking eye contact, you stick your tongue out and as the tip grazes the underside of his cock it jolts on reflex against your lips. You trace the hard edge of his length all the way up, and then repeat the same motion but firmly pressing the plane of your tongue over his hardness, leaving a trail of spit. You wrap one hand at the base and keep him up as your lips sensually suck on the tip, collecting his arousal. Taking him further into your mouth, you seal your lips tightly around him as your head bobs up and down, gradually faster. Sam can't help but submit to the pleasure you provide. The grunts buried deep in his throat tell you how much he's enjoying you eating his cock. He would shove it down your throat if he had the strength to hold your head and thrust into you, but right now he can barely lift his hips. It's easy to see how he aches more by the way he curses under his breath or how his fingers struggle to grip at your hair.

You got him. Through and through, you take it further and viciously suck every inch of his cock, pushing him further into that sweet undoing.

“Oh, fuck, that’s good, sweetheart…” his voice comes out ragged. “Yeah, just like that. Keep… going…”

You hum around his firmness, keeping a steady pace and granting him that big relief he needs.

Sam can barely keep his eyes open, but he forces them to stay wide so he can see your perfect lips curled around him, taking him full into the depth of your mouth. He can feel your tongue, the pressure of your lips, and his head touching the back of your throat when you go further down.

When he reaches the edge, you move your free hand to grab his balls and give him that ultimate push that has his cock spill everything inside your mouth. A deep grunt bounces off the walls as you squeeze him tightly in your fist for a couple of seconds. His whole body shivers beneath you, taken mindlessly to that plane where there’s no pain, just sheer pleasure, as you drink every last drop.

Drawing a breath, you let him go and lean back and lick your lips watching him gasping for air. His chest rises and falls. His stomach hollows as you place your palm there to capture the heat emanating from his torso.

“C’mere. You always take such good care of me, baby,” he breathlessly tucks an arm around you and pulls you down to his side. “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“Yeah? Did it make you feel better?”

“Much better, sweetheart.”

“Better than indica?”

“Definitely better than indica.”

“I doubt that,” you scoff, and Sam laughs softly, holding you closer to him. “But I’ll take it.”

[dramioneasks]

HP FESTS: DramioneFanfictionForum (Part 6)

Deflower Draco 2024:

Off To The Races by anna_h_ofeliya - E, 8 chapters - Upon returning to Hogwarts for the eighth year, Hermione learns that some Slytherin students covertly slip out after dark to fly around the Whomping Willow, seeking to reignite the thrill of danger.

Where the Foxglove Grows by eggmett - E, WIP - My eyes move over each offering, passing from one face to the next. Some of them are familiar. But the last, the twenty-eighth face, causes my heart to skip. A gasp sticks in my throat as I struggle to maintain my composure. Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy is virgin number twenty-eight. [Draco x Hermione x Voldemort] [Warnings: Rape/Non-Con]

Like Warm Apple Pie by undercoverdrxco - E, 2 chapters - Draco, Theo, and Blaise are two months from leaving Hogwarts as virgins. That just won’t do. A bet is placed and targets are made… Draco is decidedly going to ‘woo’ Hermione Granger. - An ‘American Pie’ inspired story in which Hermione is swotty and talks a lot, Draco is an awkward virgin, and Theo and Blaise are rightful morons while ALSO being total virgins -

Draco, Are You Coming? by EternalOphelia - E, WIP - 8th year. Draco is a virgin and keen to not be after living 100-years-worth of adult lives during the war—he just wants to be, without expectation. While Draco has had experiences with girls, he’s behind his classmates/housemates since he had more pressing things on his mind, mainly staying alive. When his well-meaning friends (Blaise and Theo) try to help him by sicking an all too willing Pansy on him, Draco is unable and unwilling to sleep with her; humiliated, he leaves a naked Pansy on his bed. Days later, when Hermione Granger becomes involved and steps in on Draco's behalf, he begins to see her differently.

Disturbingly Capable by Zeebee3 - E, one-shot - She considers his hair again, giving him the taste of a pause, then meets his eye; holds it. “Fuck you.” It’s the first thing she’s said to him in a year that isn’t a spell, and it feels good that it’s still some form of a curse. Seeing him misunderstand it feels even better. He sighs, like he’d expected insolence. “You always were a stubborn little thing. This is your last chance, Granger. Tell me, or—” She interrupts him because she can, and even with years of war between them, he still lets her. “I’m sorry if that wasn’t clear,” she says, tone indicating she’s not sorry a bit. “For a moment, I’d forgotten how stupid you are. Let me spell it out for you: I choose option two. I’ll fuck you.” His shock freezes him for a breath, and then his brows twitch together. “What?” he says. --- Or, Draco barters with his virginity and Hermione is happy to unburden him of it for the promise of being released from Malfoy Manor.

Belong To Me by WillowingScribe - E, one-shot - On one of her rounds as prefect Hermione finds Draco Malfoy in front of the Mirror of Erised talking to none other than... her? ___ “Stop it! Stop lying! You wouldn’t want me even if none of this had happened. You wouldn’t want me even if I wasn’t Draco Malfoy.” And then he said something that shocked her enough that the Invisibility Cloak slipped from her fingers and pooled onto the floor. “As if, Granger. Find somebody else to deflower.”

Mine by Forgive_Me_Severus - E, WIP - Bitten by a werewolf while on the run, Hermione Granger has had to navigate transforming under the Moon, being Alpha to five other Wolves of Hogwarts, and every aspect in between the same way she always had before: through research. But when Draco Malfoy reappears at Hogwarts as part of his probation, nothing she's studied could prepare her for what would happen next.

Cake By The Ocean by The_Taco_Dragon - E, WIP - An arranged marriage that he hates. A Bachelor Party he never wanted. Champagne eyes that make him weak.

Breaking Draco by So_scarlett_maroon - E, WIP - "Apparently, those beasts from the other houses can't go even a month without touching themselves." Hermione heard the voices and realized she'd forgotten to cast her usual noise-blocking spell. She lifted her wand to do just that when the words she'd just heard hit her. Another voice spoke now. "Surely it's just the muggle-borns, right? Purebloods are taught from birth not to defile themselves with masturbation." "Nope," the first voice resumed. "MacMillian was there, Weasley too. They both seemed to think that going a whole month without coming was some monumental task. Weaklings. Try going 18 years, mate." Hermione was struggling not to laugh. She couldn't believe there were men at Hogwarts who were not only virgins but they'd never gotten off. "Draco, did you really join their little competition, though?" Hermione had to cover her mouth to stifle her gasp. "Of course I did, Theo. I will win easily and show them all how little control they have. Unlike all the other so-called 'men' in this school, Slytherin's know how to keep it in their pants."

The Stroke of Midnight by charingfae - E, WIP - Problem number one. He’s in love with Hermione Granger. Problem number two. He’s a twenty-four-year-old virgin. Problem number three. He can’t do anything about problems number one or two thanks to an irreversible, accidental chastity vow made during a drunken escapade in fifth year. -- Draco laughed—a real, deep, belly laugh—even as his heart twinged with longing. He wanted her to like him, to be with him, to love him. He wanted to tell her that he loved her hair, especially when it grew large enough to have its own postal code. He wanted to tell her that her laugh altered his brain chemistry, and that being the one to make her laugh made his stupid life worth living. Instead, he said— “Try the beetroot.”

Seven Minutes in Heaven by allofthelights11, AutumnWeen - M, 2 chapters - Draco's house arrest was finally over with the conclusion of his N.E.W.T.s, but the challenge he would face next was even more daunting: Hermione Granger wanted him. She had no idea he was a virgin. or The time Draco fainted at a house party.

Measure of a Flan by allofthelights11, winterwells - not rated, one-shot - In which Draco desperately wants to surprise Hermione by making her grandmother's iconic flan on a special holiday weekend away.

Malfoy Rites of Passage by allofthelights11 - E, one-shot - In which, thanks to Malfoy Manor being crammed with nosy portraits with entirely too many opinions on the prostate, Draco and Hermione retreat to the rose gardens to do a little fooling around. Deflower Draco 2024

I Love A Wedding by aCanadianMuggle - M, one-shot - Malfoy Manor has decided that the heir should be wed. Cue a line of possible suitors taken to the Manor quite against their will, an unspeakable visitor and a quite ingenious solution to all of Draco's problems.

Aeterna Amantes by SyrenGrey - E, WIP - Draco Malfoy must have been around sixteen years old when the painting was commissioned–and what a pity, too, as the young Malfoy stood holding a pale, bone-ivory mask in one hand while a black cloak dangled from his other arm. He was as thin as a skeleton, the area around his eyes gaunt and hollow, perfectly suiting the title of Death Eater which he’d accepted in his nascent, sixteenth year. This was how Hermione remembered him. Maybe not so thin, and not as pale as this portrait conveyed, but standing tall, despite the resignation buried within his silver eyes. She had very few fond memories of the spoiled bully, but it didn’t take much for Hermione to feel pity for any creature–and Draco Malfoy, heir to hatefulness and bigotry–boy who never stood a chance–was worthy of pity. It was impossible to know what exactly had happened to him. Even six years after the Battle of Hogwarts, his body was never found.

Keep Your Wand Up by malfoyesque (PearlBracelet) - E, 3 chapters - A prank looms on the horizon, one that will destroy Draco's already shredded reputation. The jokes already exist about him lowering his wand, and about whether or not he'll ever be able to get it up again. And if the entire school were to just so happen to find out he was still a virgin– Yeah. You see the problem. But he soon finds out that he's not the only one. And that might be the thing that saves him.

More Than a Mask by vannminner - E, WIP - Amidst the masquerade, masks are shed, passion blooms and Draco's cock is warmed by the one witch he's wanted to take his v card since fourth year.

Partners by EscapeInMyBookshelf - E, one-shot - Auror partners Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger have had a long day in the field and come back to the Ministry to deal with paperwork. She volunteers to help him with his workload.

Heads of Seduction by MarinaJune - E, 2 chapters - A pair of knickers and a pot full of mystery tea–what do these have in common? Draco is about to find out, along with just how much the newly-appointed Head Boy and Head Girl have changed since they all last walked Hogwarts. The swottiest Gryffindor and most stoic Slytherin have more to share than just class notes with him, as long as he leaves all expectations at the door. [Draco x Hermione x Blaise]

The Countdown by westxnorthwest - E, WIP - Malfoy, D. L. Determined match: Granger, H. J. Appointment: 5 June 2003, 10:00 AM - When the Wizarding Marriage Law passes, Draco and Hermione learn they have six months to consummate their marriage, and a year to produce an heir. What could go wrong?

A Traditional Malfoy Marriage Ceremony by Storycat9 - E, WIP - Draco and Hermione thought a quick Ministry elopement would help them avoid stuffy Pureblood weddings (and Lucius's schemes to break them up.) But Malfoy magic wants something a little more traditional. Newlyweds must learn to be flexible, right?

A Long Hard Wait by Iceemist - E, one-shot - Five times Draco nearly had sex, and the one time he actually did.

Purity by Storycat9 - E, one-shot - Draco comes back to Hogwarts to take his N.E.W.T.s, but he seems to have left some things out of his study guide.

This fest is ongoing.

[ijustwanttoreadfanfiction]

Friendly Sex - Chapter 1 - The Party

Eddie Munson X AFAB!Reader

Your 6 year long unrequited crush on Steve Harrington is starting to wear thin, and after discovering Eddie Munson feels the same way about Chrissy Cunningham you decide to make a pact. After all, what's the harm in a little casual sex between friends?

  A/N: Story opens April 1986. Slight AU, all the events of seasons 1, 2 and 3 happened, except Hopper didn't get transported to Russia, the gate was closed and Joyce, Hopper, Jonathan, Will and Jane all move to California as one big happy family. Jonathan and Nancy break up (necessary for plot, apologies to any shippers). Nancy and Steve are together. Reader is 18 and in final year at Hawkin's High School, alongside Robin and Eddie etc. Reader works at Family Video with Robin & Steve. Vecna storyline is not a thing, strange things will not be happening. This has been festering in my brain and I don't know what to do with it, so, tada!

Warnings: NSFW. SMUT, (MDI) 18+ only, drugs, sex, alcohol, underage drinking, public sex, dirty talk, name calling in sex (consensual), explicit language, adult themes, there will be angst, it will get messy.

More warnings to be added.

Revised edition.

************************************************************************

  It was Robin’s idea to go to the party, one of those let’s have a party for the sake of having a party, parties, the all American standard, under-age keg fest.

It was an unwelcome change from your regularly scheduled Saturday night plans of doing nothing.

But argue as you might, Robin had made it clear you were going, even if she had to drag you.

"I'm tired of watching your ass wallow in self-pity." She said in true blunt Robin fashion, pulling outfit after outfit out of your closet, throwing them haphazardly in your general direction.

"I thought you loved watching my ass." You bite back, holding up a rust-coloured corduroy mini skirt to your hips.

"Ha, ha. I'm serious though dude, this whole moping Minnie routine is getting old, you just need to get out there and get yourself laid." She groans, pushing past you, flopping face first onto your bed in frustration.

"The skirt looks good, you should wear it with your tan knee highs." She adds, laying on her front to look at you.

"I'm working on it Rob." You grumble, fishing your boots out from under a pile of clothes. "It's not easy to let go of a 6 year crush you know."

"Well maybe if you had made a move 6 years ago, we wouldn't be in this mess." She huffs in exaggeration.

"Gee, you're right, let me just hop in my time machine, go back and tell my 12-year-old self to man up and ask out Steve Harrington. Huzzah!" You quip dryly, yanking the zipper of your boots up none too gently.

  "Honestly Harrington has a lot to answer for, it's like the women of Hawkin's see him and suddenly all rational thought disappears." Robin laughs.

"It's the hair." You agree, fluffing up your own in the mirror. "And only the great Robin Buckley, lesbian superheroine, is immune to its hypnotic powers."

"Then I must use my powers for good!" She declares in a manly tone, hauling herself off the bed to wrap her arms around your shoulders. "My mission, gentle citizen, is to break the spell cast over you." She places a wet kiss on your cheek casting an appraising eye over your finished ensemble. "Very hot."

  ***

  It's not that you disliked parties, after all it was a time honoured tradition to go to some random person's house whilst their parents where out of town and get absolutely wasted, chintzy picture perfect living rooms suddenly overrun with overactive hormones, sweaty bodies and dubious punch bowls, however after the initial buzz wore off you usually found yourself longing for the quiet solitude of your bedroom. Of course, when you express this to Robin, after half an hour of being there, she merely rolls her eyes in disgust, thrusting another cup of mystery alcohol in your hand, ushering you back into the throng of young adults.

"Would you stop?" She implores, holding your left shoulder with her free hand. "Your problem is you think too much. So, give those little grey cells a break by killing some of them off." She lifts her own drink in a mock toast, nodding at you to do the same.

"You are a terrible friend." You relent with a laugh, toasting quickly and taking a gulp, face scrunched up in distaste as the alcohol burns your throat.

"The very worst." She says with an evil grin, which fades somewhat as she focuses on something behind you. You turn towards the source, and despite knowing what you would see, your stomach still swoops uncomfortably at the sight of Steve or more precisely Steve with his arm wrapped around Nancy Wheeler looking incredibly loved up. "Shit." Robin declares.

"Shit." You agree flatly. 

  You move to go back towards the kitchen, but Robin takes your hand, holding you in place, Steve having already spotted you both, his own hand thrown up in greeting, weaving through the crowd with Nancy in tow.

"Fancy seeing you fine ladies here." Steve grins broadly, leaning in to give each of you a one-armed hug, your skin burning from his touch.

"Fancy that." Robin agrees sheepishly, you get a grim sense of satisfaction at the uncomfortable look on her face.

Nancy, who had been hanging off of Steve's free arm for the majority, leans forward to speak to you over the pounding music. "I love your skirt Y/n." She smiles sweetly; and you feel the rather irrational urge to stick pins in her bright blue eyes.

"Thanks Nancy." You call back, trying to return her smile. "I- uh -I like your bracelet." You say, noticing a golden glimmer on her wrist, plastering on the enthusiasm.

Nancy, being an actual angel, flushes with pleasure at your compliment. "Steve bought it for me." She sighs, toying with the gold bangle,

and you try not to urge as they share a sickening saccharine look.

"Of course he did." You mutter grudgingly to yourself, desperately wanting to escape.

"What did you say Y/n?" Steve asks absent-mindedly, still gazing at Nancy.

"I'm gonna grab another drink." You say in a clearer voice, not that it mattered, because at that moment Steve seemed to find a very interesting spot on Nancy's neck that required the immediate attention of his mouth. Grimacing you slip past them, purposely ignoring Robin's pleading calls for a top up and/or a sick bucket.

  Reaching the kitchen, you chug a cup of punch straight off, before refilling it to the brim, whilst you knew alcohol wouldn't solve your problems it could certainly try and soothe the jealous beast currently roaring in your head at the human octopus that was Stancy.

Deciding the garden was the best place to avoid a front row seat to the lovefest, you steer your body around bumping and grinding couples, careful not to spill a drop of your precious emotional medicine. The backyard to your pleasant surprise is empty, the party having not yet spilled out, and the chilly night air was a welcome contrast to the stale humidity inside. You wander out onto the pristine lawn, and find yourself releasing a breath you didn't realize you had been holding, ears ringing slightly as they adjusted to the now muffled thumping bass.

"Well, well, well what brings you out here Sweetheart?"

You groan heavily at the teasing drawl behind you.

"I was trying to get some peace and quiet, but that's not likely to happen with you around, is it Munson?" You sigh, turning to face Eddie Munson who was perched on a swing set to the far right, slightly obscured in semi-darkness, but a Cheshire cat grin clearly plastered on his face.

"Ouch, you wound me." He says, placing a dramatic hand over his heart, still grinning away like an idiot. "Seriously though, I wouldn't have pegged you for this kinda gig." He gestures with his head back towards the party.

"It was Robin's idea." You mutter darkly, glaring towards the shut French doors.

"Well, if looks could kill, I'm guessing you'll have a best friend vacancy by this time tomorrow." He laughs again, which irritates you further. 

  "What are you doing here?" You deflect back, hiccupping slightly as you drink some more punch. "Place is like jock city in there, hardly your regular stomping ground either."

He nudges a battered black tin lunch-box with his foot, slightly tucked under the swing. "You know me sweetheart, got a business to run, empires to build, horizons to expand." He says with the usual Eddie flair.

"Dealing drugs to inebriated teens, I should've guessed." You say wryly, rolling your eyes.

"You make it sound so dirty." He mocks you, irritating smirk still fixed.  "And you've never complained before." He reminds you pointedly.

Whilst far from being a hardcore user, you were a semi- frequent customer of Eddie's when it came to weed, finding him to be discreet, reliable and most importantly for your minimum wage ass, cheap.

"Well maybe I'm in the mood to complain tonight," You mutter suddenly feeling bitter about the way the night had gone downhill so quickly, scuffing your boot into the neatly trimmed grass.

Eddie leans down to extract something from his tin.

"Joint for your thoughts?" He offers, holding out a perfectly rolled spliff, quickly adding. "No charge." You mull it over for all of 2 seconds, concluding your jealous inner demon will not be calmed by alcohol alone. 

  "'Atta girl!" He calls happily as you stomp over to squeeze beside him, he pats your knee in encouragement, then lights up, graciously passing you the joint for the first drag which you take gratefully.

You both sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, offering the smoke back and forth. You could tell straight away that the weed was a much higher quality than you could ever normally afford and therefore hoped its soothing effects would kick in a lot quicker.

"Soooo," Eddie gently ventures after a few more minutes, "you wanna walk about it?" 

"What's there to talk about, I'm in love with a guy who is in love with someone else." You shrug on a heavy exhale.

Eddie whistles between his teeth, regarding you carefully as you take another hit.

"Ah, that old cliche huh?" He nudges you lightly, taking the joint back for his turn.

Now Eddie had said it, you couldn't help but laugh in agreement.

"I guess it is pretty clichéd." 

"Yup no points for originality this time princess. So, who's Captain Oblivious?" He asks, offering you another hit, shaking your head you opt to take a swig of alcohol, mentally bracing yourself for Eddie's inevitable teasing.

"Steve Harrington." You sigh glumly into your cup.

Eddie let out a muttered "Damn." 

"The former King of Hawkin's High himself. I don't envy you there babe."

  You snatch the joint back from his ringed fingertips, fed up with his teasing. "Don't take the piss Eddie, I'm not in the mood." You mumble defensively, leaning forward so as not to see the smirk on his face.

"Hey." He says in a surprisingly genuine tone, his hand rubbing your back, making you turn to look at him. "I'm not ragging on you sweetheart. Harrington is a nice enough guy now he's not hanging out with the douchebag brigade. I can see why you'd like him."

You lean back and Eddie slips his arm around your shoulders. 

"Well, I'm glad you can see it, he doesn't even know I exist, at least not in the way I want him to." You sigh, resting your head on his arm, seeing off the last of your drink and feeling distinctly sorry for yourself. 

You both lapse into silence again, the swing swaying gently beneath you as you burn through more of the joint , somewhere inside the house voices were shouting "Keg! Keg! Keg!"

  After a few moments, Eddie shifts slightly, arm wrapping more securely around you.

"Can I tell you something?" He asks, sounding nervous.

"I mean I just bared my soul to you, so I guess it's only fair." You murmur, glancing up at him.

He breathes a heavy sigh, right leg jiggling.

"I have been head over heels in love with Chrissy Cunningham since middle school." He confesses with a wince.

You wanted to say something encouraging, maybe even profound, or at the very least offer some words of comfort, so you felt a little guilty when you couldn't suppress the giggle that passed your lips.

"Chrissy Cunningham?!" You exclaim, staring at him wide-eyed "Cheerleader extraordinaire, Chrissy Cunningham?"

He looks at you, lips pressed tight as though he was trying to hold back his own laughter. 

"Yep." Letting the 'p' pop. "Ever since she shook her pom-poms in the talent show."

You were barely holding it together, attempting to keep your voice level as you spoke. 

"Wait, wait. So not only are we both in love with two very attractive people who are waaaay out of our league, these people are also in long term committed relationships with two other very attractive people." 

Your statement hung in the air for a second, both of you then erupting into fits of laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation.

  Eddie chuckled throatily around the stub of the joint, almost burnt out. "Oh man, we are pathetic." Shaking his head.

You jam your elbow lightly into his ribs. "Hey, speak for yourself!" You jokingly admonish. 

"What, you think you have a chance?" He snorts incredulously.

You pretend to weigh up your options.

"If Nancy Wheeler gets hit by a bus, sure I'll shoot my shot… after an extended mourning period of course." You say.

"Of course." Eddie agrees, both of you collapsing into fits of uncontrollable giggles once more, fuelled on by excessive alcohol and weed.

  "So, what do you think you need to do to get over little old Stevie?" Eddie asks you somewhat more seriously, stamping the remainder of the joint out under his sneakers, leaning back against the swing, taking you under his arm again.

You shrug, settling comfortably against him, staring up at the night sky, your own arm wrapping lightly about his waist. "Robin says I just need to get laid." You sigh flatly.

"I mean it's not the worst suggestion in the world." He says reasonably. 

"Yeah, but c'mon Munson, guys aren't exactly queued around the block waiting to give me a service." You say, gesturing to the empty garden, Eddie pulling a face at your phrasing.

"Maybe that's because you've spent the past however many years with your Harrington blinkers on." He suggests, and it hits a nerve within you, quite often you wondered if you had missed opportunities with other guys because of your Harrington fixation. Your first and thus far only proper relationship, at 16 ,was doomed to fail from the start as Bobby Cooper just couldn't live up to the standards you had set in your daydreams of Steve.

"Well, what about you and your Chrissy conundrum? Your on-tap supply of groupies not helping to ease the pain?" You bite back, on the defensive.

Rather than get shitty with you, Eddie just gives you the classic Munson smirk.  

"You think I’m good enough to have groupies?" He teases, squeezing your side, with a saucy eyebrow raise.

You pinch him back playfully. "I've seen you play Eddie; you know you're good." You admit with a smile.

He heaves a dramatic sigh, hand to his brow like some wretchedly poor southern belle.

"And yet, the tour bus-"

"Your van?" You chip in snidely.

"-my van" He ruefully concedes "is decidedly empty, even with the new air freshener."

"It's a crying shame, Eds." You laugh, patting his cheek.

  He places an affectionate kiss on your head, cuddling you closer against the chilly breeze, it feels nice to be held, and even nicer to talk to someone so openly, other than Robin of course.

You lapse into comfortable silence once more, the strains of some Blondie song thumping from inside, the party was kicking up a gear but you found yourself lost in thought.

You had always had a soft spot for Eddie, conversation flowed easily enough, and you appreciated his dry sense of humour, both of you were regular outcasts in comparison to rest of the high school cliques, and you had found yourselves in detention together more times than you cared to count; you had a bad habit of disagreeing with your English teacher. And if you were being honest, he was actually really kind of pretty when you took the time to really look at him, chocolate brown eyes, full lips, awesome hair.

You hadn't realised you had been staring at him until he cleared his throat, you pulled away from his arms sheepishly, cheeks aflame from the embarrassment of being caught out, but feeling sure Eddie had been staring at you for the same amount of time.

"Uh- sweetheart, and by all means please let me know if I have completely misread some signals here, but I think I may have found the solution to both our problems." It surprised you to hear a note of uncertainty in his voice, particularly as Eddie was normally shockingly cavalier to a fault, it made you turn back to face him.

"Go on…" You encouraged him, finding your mouth oddly dry.

  He took a deep breath, leaning closer, his arm snaking about your waist, warm fingertips tracing absentmindedly across the inch of exposed skin between your skirt and top, goose pimples erupting that made a shiver run up your spine.

"You need to get laid." He stated. "I need to get laid. We both have stuff we need to get out of our systems. You're a stand-up girl," he gave you a courteous nod. "...and I think I'm correct in saying you find me tolerable at the very least." The uncertainty was back, steeling yourself you placed a hand on his denim clad knee giving him a squeeze. 

"More than tolerable Eds." You offer a smile.

"Thanks sweetheart." He mutters blushing. "So, uh anyway, what I'm trying to say here is… in a pretty roundabout way and you can of course say no-"

"Eddie"

"Sorry, rambling, what I'm trying to say is we could… help each other out?" He was staring at you, pleading with you to chime in.

"You mean sex?" You ask slowly, noticing his blush creep up to his ears.

"Uh, y-yeah that thing." He stammers. "If you wanted to, with me, we could have sex as friends every now and then, friendly sex."

  You glanced at your wristwatch, 26 minutes ago you came out into the garden of some unknown person seeking a quiet place to drown your Steve induced sorrows, and now you were sitting next to Eddie Munson, seriously considering his offer of 'friendly sex'. Maybe Robin's kiss from earlier really had broken a spell, you laughed aloud at the thought, mirth quickly turning to frantic apologies at the look of horror on Eddie's face, forgetting that he was not privy to your inner monologue.

"Oh my god Eddie, no I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you!' You cried, cringing at your own social ineptitude.

"Hey, it's ok honey, I told you, it's cool if you don't want to-" His tone was calm, patting your side, making to stand and walk away with what little dignity he had left.

"NO! Don't go, I do want to!" You let out a shout, grasping his arm to pull him back down, your face burning in mortification that you essentially just begged Eddie to fuck you. 

"Alright sweetheart, calm down I'm not going anywhere, no need to shout." He soothed; devil- may-care smirk back in place, holding you firmly about the waist again. You tried to turn away at his teasing, but Eddie cupped your cheek, the numerous rings on his fingers cool against your prickling skin.

"I'm going to kiss you now." His voice low and surprisingly authoritative. "Ok?" He asks, inching closer to your lips. Unsure if you had the nerve to speak, you merely nod. "Use your words princess, I need you to tell me that it's ok for me to kiss you." He teased; lips just shy of brushing against yours.

"I-it's ok, kiss me, please." You whisper, hands fisted in his jacket, pulling him in to close the final gap.

Eddie surged forward with an urgency that made you gasp, kissing you hard, your teeth clacking together painfully but you didn't care, adrenaline coursing through your veins like rocket fuel. You quickly found the right rhythm for each other kissing back with equal enthusiasm, his grip tightened moving you to straddle his lap, with you kneeling. He kneaded your ass, grinding you down, you gasped feeling the hard outline of his dick, taking full advantage of your open mouth, his tongue slipping in to meet with yours. Releasing his jacket, you tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging harder than intended as Eddie nipped at your bottom lip, but he hardly seemed to care judging by the groan that escaped his throat. You smirked, tucking the knowledge away for later use, Eddie also appeared to be mentally cataloguing your reactions, like the way your hips rocked involuntarily as he sucked your neck just below your right ear, and how your breath hitched whilst he felt you up under your shirt, brushing the underside of your breast.

So lost in each other you didn't notice the sudden increase in noise coming from the party, signalling that someone had opened the screen door, it was the violent retching sound of vomiting that had you jumping apart as though you had been electrocuted, scrambling off Eddie's lap. You grimaced in disgust, Chance from the High School basketball team spewing chunks over the once pristine lawn, to the jeers of others inside.

  "Hey…" Eddie spoke breathlessly, pulling your attention back to him, his lips kiss bitten, pupils blown wide. "You uh, want to get out of here?"

Grinning you snatched up his hand pulling him none too gently in the direction of the back gate, the sound of Chance's digestive pyrotechnics mercifully fading away, Eddie now pulling you along in the opposite direction to the house.

My van is this way."

Your heels clacked against the concrete, the pair of you moving at a light jog, keen to pick where you left off, both breathless as you came up on Eddie's van.

"Your chariot milady." He gestured proudly to the beat up vehicle like it was Cinderella's magical pumpkin carriage.

"Eddie, calling me milady is a total turn off." You teased, nose wrinkling.

  He pulled you to him, spinning you so your back was pressed against the passenger side door, 

"Oh well in that case, I best stick to sweetheart, huh sweetheart?" Caging you, his smile almost predatory as he set to work sucking what would no doubt be a prize-winning hickey just above your throat.

You grabbed the scruff of his neck when the skin got too sensitive, pulling his lips back to yours, both of you fighting for dominance in the kiss, thoroughly making out. Eddie palmed your tits, as you reached down trailing a teasing hand along the bulge in his jeans, he broke the kiss huffing out a low "Shit…."

Feeling bold, you flashed him a mischievous grin, unbuckling his belt, your hand slipping inside the tight denim stroking his cock properly, he was fully hard, your thumb swiping a thick bead of pre-cum around the mushroomy head.

"You keep doing that sweetheart and I’ll have no choice but to fuck you right here in the street." Eddie panted against your neck, his words going straight to your cunt.  

"Promises, promises." You said with a purr, jerking him slowly.

He laughed breathlessly. "Fucking tease." His hands quickly hitching up your skirt, hips pressing you closer to the van, slipping your panties to the side, you gasped as he trailed a finger through your wetness up to your clit and back down again.

  "Jesus baby, you're soaked. All this for me?" He asks incredulously, kissing you deeply again, two fingers moving slowly pumping in and out of your cunt as his thumb plays with your clit. The pair of you working each other, quiet moans slipping past swollen lips 

"Eddie." You whined softly, there was a tiny voice in the back of your mind which was terrified about getting caught in such a compromising position, but a much louder voice was screaming, begging to let Eddie have his way with you in the street where anyone could see.

"What is it princess?" He murmured, biting at your lower lip.

"I want -" You hiccupped on a moan, all four of his fingers now working over your swollen clit, spreading the slick from your cunt, you could only hold his cock, brain not functioning enough under his ministrations.

Grinning, taunting you openly he nipped at the sweet spot under your ear, whispering "Use your words baby."

"Oh my god." You whimpered. The screaming in your brain reaching a fever pitch; you wanted him to fuck you, right now, you didn't care if you got caught. "Eddie, do it, fuck me, fuck me right here." You say frantically, his movements stilling in shock. 

"You sure sweetheart? I-I can wait, we don't have to do anything you don't wanna-" He cut off, watching as though in a trance, you turned yourself around, pushing your ass out toward him, in the dim streetlight your pussy glistened with wetness all swollen and pretty.

  "Ho-ly fuck." He breathed out in awe, fishing hurriedly for a condom in his jacket pocket. You were breathing hard against the passenger window, watching Eddie's reflection, staring, cheeks flushed with excitement and lust as he yanked his jeans and boxers down enough to free his length, panting as he rolled the condom on. Coming up behind you, he crowded you against the van once again, his body covering your back, feeling his cock line up with your entrance; shivering at the slow press and delicious stinging sensation as he worked his way in.

"Christ you're so fucking tight baby." He hissed, balls flush to your ass as he bottomed out, one hand coming up to play with your tits, the other bracing against the van as he started to thrust.

"Eddie…fuck." You choked out, rubbing at your sopping clit, you were already so close, bouncing your hips back against him as he thrust harder.

"Oh my fucking god, you're perfect, so fucking tight and perfect. I can feel you dripping on my balls." He groaned, grabbing your hair, turning your head to capture your lips in a frantic kiss, you keened into his mouth. He was pulling your top up, freeing your breasts, pinching at your puckered nipples, his other arm wrapping tight  around your middle, holding you steady, pounding deeper.

  It was lewd, it was indecent, it was sinful and you had never felt so alive.

  "Eds, Eddie, I'm - fuck I'm fucking close, please." You begged, pleading, hovering over the edge, heat swimming deep in your belly.

"Oh shit, yes, such a good girl." You could hear he was close, the words passing through gritted teeth. "Taking this cock so well. You wanna cum baby?"

"Yes." You whined desperately, the coil within you tightening. "Please, I wanna cum so bad, fuck me harder." 

You didn't know where the words were coming from, had never felt this pent up, never craved sex this way before.

Eddie's balls were slapping against you in a faster rhythm, the sound penetrating the otherwise still night air.

"Fucking hell baby, yes take it, so fucking good - shit - that's it fucking cum for me sweetheart. Cum-on-my-cock-you-little-fucking-slut." He punctuated each word with brutal thrusts and at the word slut you felt the dam break, wave after wave of throbbing pleasure seized your body, head thrown back in a wordless cry, spasming around his dick.

"Shit,shit,shit,fuck,fuck." Eddie was chanting in a low whine, hips stilling against you, even with the condom on you could feel the pulse of him cumming.

  You both stayed perfectly still for a moment, your shared heavy breathing the only sound now.

"That was… holy fuck that was…" Eddie muttered leaning heavily against your shoulder, you clung onto the side mirror for support, legs feeling like jelly.

"Uh huh." You agreed breathlessly, you felt his hand on your back rubbing soothingly, unable to stop yourself from hissing as he pulled out, gently righting your panties for you and pressing a fleeting kiss to the back of your neck.

It was a remarkably sweet gesture, particularly in stark contrast to your position moments before, you tugged your top down, and skirt back up leaning against the van with a heavy exhale. Eddie had tucked himself away, and was now busy tying the condom off, stepping into the road to drop it unceremoniously down a gap in a drain cover, your face scrunched in distaste at the action.

"Giving the swimmers a new lease of life." He said winking impishly.

"I'm sure the sewer rats will be ever so pleased." You deadpanned.

  You were unsure what the plan was now, should you go your separate ways, you back to the party, him to - well wherever Eddie spent Saturday nights?

Returning to the party felt like a hellish idea, not just because you probably looked like you had just had sex, which you had, but you'd also have to face Steve and Nancy and whilst you now seemingly had the option of sex on tap, emotionally your heart still very much belonged to Harrington. Also you had the beginnings of a headache no doubt from the toxic punch.

"Uh- sweetheart you in there?" Eddie asked you, waving his hand in front of you, evidently you had zoned out.

"Huh?"

"I was talking about milkshakes." 

'Milkshakes?" You repeatedly blankly.

"Yeah, ya know, you take the milk, you take the shake you take them both and then you have the facts of life." He said moving past you, opening the passenger door.

You just stared vacantly.

"Oh my god I fucked the intelligence out of you." He giggled, ducking to one side as you tried to punch him in the arm, catching your hand he pulled you to him.

"Sweetheart I would very much like it if you would accompany me to a diner where we can have milkshakes and discuss the intimate details of our little arrangement." He clarified, gesturing for you to get into the van.

"Details?" You ask cluelessly, clambering into the seat, maybe he had fucked you dumb.

"Details." Eddie cooed, tapping you on the nose and strapping you in like a child, before handing you his drug box and slamming the door.

You were unsure whether to be amused or concerned at how he skipped to his own driver's side, lighting a cigarette. 

"Eddie, what exactly are we doing?" You ask, completely exasperated. He revved the engine, jamming the play button on the car radio, head banging along to Ace of Spades - Motorhead for a few moments.

"EDDIE!" You yell over the music impatiently.

"You and I are making a pact princess" Flashing you a huge grin before peeling down the street.

[drarryspecificrecs]

2023.11 ~ Top 5 longest fics posted on AO3

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►Alternate universes never seem as real as our own. Draco felt no differently. He never questioned whether, in a far-off knot of space, he started hating Harry Potter at eleven and never stopped. All he knew was that here and now, it was unthinkable not to love him. /// This is Draco’s story from eleven to seventeen, should the flap of a butterfly’s wing change fate just enough to coax him down a different path.

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►A process is recursive when it defines or contains itself; e.g., the Fibonacci sequence, which determines the next number as the sum of the previous two. But not all recursive processes are mathematical. Recursion can happen in a temporal context when, for instance, the powerful magical force that is true love drags you back in time so it can create itself, endangering the fate of the Wizarding World—not to mention the very fabric of space and time—along the way.

3. Christmas Courting by Kai_Embers [M, 87k]

►‘Christmas Courting’ or ‘Yuletide Courting’ is an ancient ritual that many Pure-blood wizards - and all members of the Sacred 28 - go through when choosing their intended. [...] Draco has no family, limited prospects and a legacy he needs to live up to, so on the 1st of December his name is published on the Christmas Courting list with Blaise backing him through the process as suiters vie for his hand. The Malfoy name is still worth something in the right circles.

4. Strand's Seven Stars by @shewhomustnotbenamed [E, 83k]

►Draco seeks out the help of a detective who is known for his discretion. Despite rocky introductions, Draco and the detective, Harry Potter, become friends as Draco is forced to share very personal information that reveals more about himself than he would have ever admitted to under any other circumstance. Fortunately, Harry is not only understanding of Draco's sexual preferences but encourages him to keep doing what he loves--perhaps with Harry himself.

5. give me touch (‘cause I’ve been missing it) by yaz113 [E, 65k]

►Harry Potter is living the life he'd always dreamed about, happily married to his childhood sweetheart, Ginny Potter née Weasley and playing as the star seeker of the Montrose Magpies. One minor quidditch accident and one trip to the medical center later, Harry finds himself under the spell of Team Healer Draco Malfoy, inadvertently putting his dream life at risk.

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 10k

※ Word count: 10k ~ 40k

change on the fly by @legen-wait-for-it-drarry [T, 30k]

the earth from a distance by @andthepeople [E, 15k]

The end is renown by @onehundredflamingos [E, 21k]

Falling For U by mik_exe [T, 13k]

The Hierophant by @hsvh-hp [M, 29k]

I Remember You... But It Wasn't Really You by @nakyrah [M, 32k]

Obliviate by ScarletTokugawa [T, 12k]

People You Know by Zoythren [M, 30k]

Rush by @mono-chromia [E, 10k]

Starting Over by Justlikewriting [M, 19k]

—

Ongoing Fest/Exchange

※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.

Harry/Draco Career Fair 2023 | @hd-fan-fair​

HD Sudsfest Lite 2023 | @hdsudsfest

HP No Nut November 2023 | @knot-your-mothers-mods

Sugarfest | @hpsugarfest

Shadows and Spells

[devirnis]

Fuck It Friday 🔥

Hi! Feels like it's been a minute. Work and life have been kinda crazy, but rest assured I’ve been typing away in the background

In the spirit of fuck it, I'm going to share some small snippets from each of the fics I'm working on for Five Alarm Fest - these are all coming to you soon! (The week of July 15)

Under the cut to save your dash, a selection of bucktommy & buddie fics for your sampling pleasure

kiss the cook (bucktommy, coda/missing scene)

Tommy is standing in the hallway, and the sight of him settles the nervous energy thrumming through Buck’s body. He’s dressed in dark jeans and yet another henley. Buck briefly wonders if the man owns any other types of shirts, but then he gets a good look at the way the top two buttons of the shirt are undone and how the fabric stretches over Tommy’s wide shoulders and abruptly decides he loves henleys; Tommy should only ever wear henleys from now on. “Hey,” Tommy says back, with a matching smile. His eyes trail up and down Buck’s body and Buck can’t help but preen. He steps aside to allow Tommy to come inside. “Wow, it smells great in here.” “Thank god,” Buck mutters under his breath. At Tommy’s questioning eyebrow, Buck hastily corrects, “Uh, I mean thank you. I almost burned my apartment down the last time I tried to make this.”

powerful with a little bit of tender (bucktommy, after a dry spell)

Eventually, Tommy decides it’s time to take over. He tightens his grip in Evan’s hair and starts moving him up and down his length, thrusting gently into Evan’s mouth at the same time. Groaning deeply, Evan’s eyes flutter as he allows himself to be used. He squirms around a bit on his knees, his own cock hard and red, and Tommy swears quietly at the sight. Tommy’s no stranger to getting off on pleasuring his partner, but with Evan it’s something else entirely. The longer he sucks Tommy’s cock, the more desperate and turned on he gets, like he’s the one getting sucked off. It’s incredible. Tommy never wants to come; he wants to stay right on the edge and drink in every detail. But he also knows that once he gets one orgasm under his belt, he’ll be able to focus on tormenting Evan all the more.

melting on my lips (buddie, new experience/new kink)

[Buck] draws a small heart with the sauce around each of Eddie’s nipples. Eddie flinches slightly at the slimy feeling on his skin, and can’t help but roll his eyes. Buck’s not finished, though; the next shape he creates is a thick arrow, painting Eddie’s stomach and pointing to his (admittedly hard) dick. “Really?” Eddie asks. Ignoring him, Buck situates himself between Eddie’s open legs. He drops down onto his elbows and starts mouthing at the chocolate arrow, laving his tongue over the contours of Eddie’s body.

let me desecrate you (bucktommy, at the firehourse)

“Tommy.” Buck gives him his most serious expression. “I want you to fuck me on his desk.” Eyes flashing with heat, Tommy slides his hands from Buck’s wrists, up his arms to toy with the collar of his shirt. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you where anyone could walk in and see you? You’re that much of a cockslut that you’ll let me bend you over the desk and take you right here?” A shudder runs through Buck’s body, and his grip tightens on Tommy’s waist involuntarily. Tommy’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. “Okay,” Tommy says, voice slightly husky. “We’re talking about that later.”

drown in my mind (buddie, creator's choice)

Sure enough, he finds Eddie inside, his back to Buck as he viciously scrubs at a spot on the counter with a microfibre towel. A fond smile curls up the corners of Buck’s mouth. And then the scent hits him. Sickly sweet, like honey and cough syrup. Normally it’s a scent that has Buck’s heart soaring, but the smell combined with the fact that it seems like Eddie’s stress-cleaned the entire house while Buck was on his 48-hour shift has guilt churning violently in his stomach. Eddie’s in heat. Eddie’s in heat, and Buck wasn’t here.

tagged by @jeeyuns @tizniz @bidisasterevankinard

tagging @bigfootsmom @princessfbi @homerforsure @spaceprincessem @sibylsleaves @eddiebabygirldiaz @honestlydarkprincess @giddyupbuck @bvckandeddie @monsterrae1 @lonelychicago @freewayshark @shitouttabuck @exhuastedpigeon @queerdiazs @lemonzestywrites @rainbow-nerdss @underwaterninja13 @father-salmon @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @watchyourbuck @smallandalmosthonest @glorious-spoon @middyblue @alchemistc @diazheartsbuckley @daffi-990 💜

[ja3hwa]

DAY 10 : Threesome/Ritual - W.S

「Title」 : Crave Sex Like It's Air

「Word count」 : 1.08k

-> Genre: Smut, Fantasy Au, Supernatural

Paring: (Wooyoung & San) WooSan x Reader

[Warnings] : Demons. Mentions of ritualistic summonings. Incubus (Sex Demons) Warlocks Yeosang. Old Ruins/Symbols for Spell Casting. Threesome. Making out, Marking, Hints of Double penetration. Unprotected sex (Don't do that). Anal (don't do that without prep) Demon Wooyoung and San. Dirty Talk. Let me know If I missed anything.

February Filth Fest Event Day Calendar

You had written the symbols on the floorboards with a small piece of chalk. Just like your friend said. Desperation had consumed your being. Worry filling your soul. It had been days since you'd seen your lovers. You became scared they were lost in the under realms. So you went to someone who knew a summoning spell. Yeosang, a powerful warlock, and also a close friend of your boyfriends. He had gifted it to you. So you sat on the floor, rings and ruins around you. You started the chant, slowly, and clearly. The floor started to rumble, while the chalk lines start to light up.

Once the last word is said, the glowing and the energy ebbs away. Did it work? You look around and see nothing different. Frustration grows in your chest as you look over the runes again on the ground. Then a soft hand catches you off guard, caressing your face. Lifting it up to have a look at you, a sigh of relief washes over you.

An incubus stands in front of you, his eyes, purple and skin that shimmers like a pearl. His hair, dark that falls over his face but you can see the grin wide across it. A light chuckles comes from across the room and you whip your head to see another, laying around on your bed rubbing his neck like he just experienced whiplash. His taller and more human figure made your heart jump. But his eyes still glisten that demon purple that made you fall in love all over again each time you see them.

"I was getting worried." You finally spoke, choking slightly as tears began to overwhelm you. Wooyoung's hand what still held under your chin, rubs over your cheek slightly, making you feel a familiar calmness. You missed them so much, more than you thought you did.

"We were okay. We had to stay down there longer than we thought." San's voice whispered behind you, his hot breath pooling against your ear making you jump slightly. Wooyoung then dropped his fingers from your chin, walking over aimlessly to the table with the old witchy books and candles on it.

"Besides it's not really like there is phone reception in hell." He was cheeky so you knew he meant nothing by the sly comment. San turned your body slowly, his hands raking over your hips. He didn't waste time, kissing you passionately. Something you had been missing since they left. Wooyoung just watched silently, enjoying the view of his two lovers making out feverishly.

"A little desperate are we?" San mumbles into the kiss, feeling you bite his bottom lip while chasing him as he tries to pull away. You huff out a breath through your nose in response continuing your assault on him. It's been far too long without them and you weren't about to waste any time. Wooyoung moved quickly pulling you by your hips to spin you around away from San. You let out a groan from his actions but quickly swallowed any whiny remarks when his lips latched onto your neck, sucking a harsh mark onto the skin. San towers over your body, pushing himself flush against you so you could feel his bulge against your ass. His teeth pull against the lobe of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. All the while Wooyoung litters your neck in bright hickeys.

"And here I thought Woo and I were supposed to be the sex demons." San's low voice growled in your ear. Wooyoung made quick with his hands as he stripped your lower half of your pants and underwear.

"Maybe you two have just rubbed off on me." You choke suddenly feeling Wooyoung's cold fingers slide up your wet folds. Strange how, for a demon, he always seems to have cold hands. San pushed you slightly into Wooyoung's grasp, your head now leaning against the redhead's shoulder. He used his free hand to wrap around your waist holding you steady while he pumped his fingers deep inside you.

"W-Woo…" You became so focused on Wooyoung that you hadn't noticed San stripping behind you. Giving Wooyoung a little show first, He spat on his hand so he could lube his cock up, pumping it a few times. Wooyoung groans watching this unfold in front of him.

"Here. Give them to me." San gripped both your shoulders, pulling your body fully away from Wooyoung, making his fingers fall out of your greedy hole. You cried at the loss of contact but San was quick to pick you up, wrapping your legs around his hips so his cock could sink into you in one go.

"Fuck I missed your pussy so much, baby. You know how hard it is being away from our little sex toy?" San groans in your ear, walking over to the wall so he could start fucking you against it. "Our kind needs sex like oxygen. We need it every day. And going a day without you is like being left for dead under the ocean." His thrusts were erratic making you moan loudly. Your fingers find the ends of his pitch hair, tugging harshly on the strands making him groan in response.

"Woo and I can only fuck so much before we are left craving you." Hearing your lover confess about fucking one another while being away from you sparks fantasies in your mind. San on top of Woo, gifting him all the pleasure he could desire. But yet it wouldn't be the same without you in the middle of it.

"Let's Just say we also missed you a lot." Wooyoung's voice made you open your eyes that you didn't realize were shut. His large hands grip your ass, turning you so instead of San pounding into you while using the wall as a stabilizer, it was now Wooyoung body keeping you in place. "Take a deep breath." his words made you gulp, shakily taking the breath he ordered while he sinks his cock in your tight ass. You felt so full, pain and pleasure mixing together. You couldn't help but question if you liked the pain or the pleasure more, but at this point, you couldn't care less. You were just happy to have your boys back. And also very happy to have them deep inside you.

-

Ateez Masterlist

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© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

-

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

[nightimedreamersworld]

Six Sentence Sunday

Thank you for the tags @larkral ❤️ can't wait for your Simon's two mum's AU!

Today I offer you: some more from my Naked!Baz fic. I had a few people speculating about the spell's effect, so here's a snippet that gives some of it away:

“Fine,” I grumble. I pull my shirt off, then throw it at him.  Baz takes one look at it, then at me. I start turning around as he lifts it over his head, but not a second passes before he’s cursing.  My head snaps toward him again. He’s looking down at his still very naked, very furred chest.  “Nothing?” I croak.  Baz shakes his head, slowly.  Well, shit. Fuck.  This is the truth I’ve always been after, innit? All these years, chasing Baz around campus, into the woods and down to the Catacombs, I’ve been looking for proof of this.  He’s a vampire. He’s admitted so, fucking finally. 

So why hasn’t it worked?

(I know, realistically, that Baz probably doesn't have that much hair on his chest. But also Simon is thinking relatively here, and he has no other reference, so.....)

Anyway, tags under the cut:

@erotic-grope-fest @rimeswithpurple @artsyunderstudy @bookish-bogwitch @cutestkilla @iamamythologicalcreature @hushed-chorus @captain-aralias @valeffelees @facewithoutheart @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @best--dress @aristocratic-otter @blackberrysummerblog @supercutedinosaurs @alexalexinii @emeryhall @letraspal @stitchyqueer @confused-bi-queer @run-for-chamo-miles @whatevertheweather @thewholelemon @youarenevertooold @prettygoododds @shrekgogurt @shemakesmeforget @mooncello @forabeatofadrum @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @whogaveyoupermission @j-nipper-95 and anyone else who'd like to join! Have a good Sunday ❤️

[underyourspellfest]

prompting for under your spell fest is now open!

We have a prompting form here and a list of already submitted prompts here!

Please make sure to check that your song has not already been prompted - while we are allowing three uses of each song, we are only allowing one prompt for each just to keep things open to people who want to self prompt.

Don't forget to check the rules before submitting and happy prompting!

[lovebugism]

What about Eddie with shy!reader who still gets shy & flustered when he compliments/praises her even after being together for months now 🥺

hi love! this is such a sweet lil scenario! thanks sm for your request!! — the one where eddie is super good at making you feel pretty (but only because you make it so easy)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

“Does this look okay?” you ask for the hundredth time. Maybe millionth.

Eddie doesn’t shrug you off, though. He never does — not even when you’ve repeated the same question to him a thousand times.

The boy eyes your outfit like he’s really analyzing it, just like you wanted him to. In its fourth iteration, it looks only slightly different than the one before it, but he’ll take any opportunity to look at you that comes his way.

Most of the time, you can’t stand it when he stares at you for too long. Now he can do it all he wants because you’re asking him to. He feels a little like the luckiest guy on the planet.

“The skirt’s really pretty,” Eddie affirms with a nod. He’d argue that you’ve looked pretty in everything you’ve shown him, but he knows that’s not the answer you’re looking for. “I think I like it better than the jeans, actually.”

Even though you could wear almost anything and drive him insane, nothing beats seeing you in skirts. Something about your legs has always worked him wild — maybe because you keep them covered so often. 

It isn’t every day he gets to see you in these shorter bottoms. Those are only reserved for real special occasions. And, for some strange reason, you’ve decided that’s what Steve’s party is.

You look over your shoulder at the boy sprawled out on the edge of your bed. His wild hair and all black get-up looks much more jarring than usual against your baby pink comforter.

He’s dreadfully out of place in your girlish bedroom. You never want him to leave.

“You think so?” you wonder aloud, toying nervously with the hem of your white skater skirt. It’s not super short, stopping just below mid-thigh, but you’re nervous that it might be anyway.

Eddie scoffs like the answer’s obvious. “Totally. You look killer, babe. I’m gonna have to walk behind you all night to keep everyone from staring at you.”

Your nose scrunches at the crude compliment. Sometimes you wonder if Eddie thinks you’re prettier than you really are — like one of those funky carnival mirrors, but with the opposite effect. 

He’s under some sort of spell, you figure. He must be. 

You don’t deserve to be loved on as much as he loves on you.

“I’m being serious, Eds,” you argue halfheartedly as you turn back to the mirror. You tug at the bottom of your snug crop top when a sliver of your stomach starts to show.

The bed squeaks under his weight when he rises from his lounged position. He laughs and it sounds like sunshine. “I am being serious. You look amazing.”

“You always think I look amazing,” you murmur, flashing him a weak glare from beneath your lashes through the mirror. You’re not as annoyed as you seem. Embarrassed and a little undeserving, sure — but not annoyed.

“How’s that my fault?” Eddie scoffs with a chuckle. His chunky sneakers thud, thud, thud against your carpeted floor as he walks over to you. “If you didn’t look so pretty all the time, I wouldn’t have to compliment you, so… Checkmate.”

“Stop it…” you protest, mousy and only half-joking.

Eddie’s almost certain that none of his words ever get through to you. Every time he tells you something nice, you think he’s joking. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s never been serious about anything in his life — other than you, of course — or if you don’t think you’re worthy of praise.

Maybe it’s a healthy mixture of both. 

It breaks his heart all the same.

Your back meets his chest when he stands behind you. His deep, musky cologne engulfs you like a fuzzy blanket. His ringed fingers are warm as they splay along your hips.

Even when he’s barely touching you, he makes you feel so held. 

“I mean it,” Eddie assures. His voice is soft, quiet, and serious — a stern sort of coo. His button-eyed gaze pierces your own as he stares at you in the mirror. He squeezes softly at your sides. “You look really pretty, babe. I think you should go with this one.”

Grateful that the attention is less on you and more on your outfit, you get less sheepish. “You don’t think it’s too much for a party?”

“No,” he answers with a curt shake of his wild head. “’S perfect. Honestly.”

You huff and lean back against him — not relaxed, exactly, just wanting to feel more of him. Eddie’s chin rests on your shoulder as your arms cross over your stomach. You look almost like you’re hugging yourself.

“Do you think they’ll like me?” you wonder, so quietly it sounds like a bunch of mumbles.

Eddie’s practically developed super-hearing after being with you for so long. 

He scoffs in response. “They’re gonna love you,” he promises, brows raised beneath his frizzy bangs. A pink smile tugs at his mouth. “Like, seriously. They’re gonna be obsessed with you. Henderson, especially. Him and Robin are gonna talk your ear off the whole night.”

You’re smiling before you realize it.

You love that he can imagine you so perfectly meshing with all the people he cares about. Your heart swells at the thought. You love fitting into his world.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods with a scrunched nose. “And then I’m gonna have to share you with them and… You know what? Maybe this is a terrible idea.”

You exhale sharply through your nose in place of a laugh. You purse your lips to the side when you feel like you’re smiling too big. It takes over your whole mouth anyway.

Eddie watches your gaze duck towards the floor where his dirty sneakers stand alongside your shiny Mary Janes. He smiles at you like he’s just heard his favorite song on the radio — like he’s watching happiness incarnate and holding her in his hands.

“There it is,” he singsongs quietly. “I’ve been waiting to see you smile all night.”

Your face heats like a stove eye. You think you might actually burn him if he touched your cheeks just now.

“Stop,” you whine as if he’s hurt you in some way. You writhe in his arms to escape his grip, but he only holds you tighter.

“Sorry, babe,” Eddie apologizes, mostly insincere. He tucks his face into your shoulder and mumbles his words there. “You can’t escape me.”

He sprinkles tiny kisses on your neck. You raise your shoulders, not because you want him to stop, but because the softness of his touch tickles you there. You’d rather feel his lips against your own, anyway.

“You’re such a sap,” you tease as your head turns to peer up at him. The words leave your mouth so softly you might as well be telling him ‘I love you.’ In some ways, you are.

“I mean it, though,” he confesses. He seals his promise with a barely-there peck to the tip of your nose. His lips just barely brush your skin before he’s pulling away again. “You look pretty. Beautiful, even.”

You trap your smile between your teeth as you twist in his hold. Your arms stay pressed between your bodies while his arms embrace you wholly. “Beautiful, huh?” you echo with a sarcastic lilt.

“Uh-huh. Beautiful with a capital B.”

Despite how desperately you want to look away from his intent gaze — so full of love that they’re twinkling with it — you force yourself to keep his stare. “Well, I think you’re Beautiful with a capital B, too, Eds…”

Eddie beams at you, taking your compliment in stride. You wish you could do that, too.

“Thank you, baby,” he hums before smacking a kiss to your waiting mouth. He tastes like nicotine and spearmint and strawberry chapstick.

It’s over far quicker than you’d like it to be. He doesn’t seem as grieved by it as you do.

“Alright, babe. Let’s go,” he announces with a boyish grin when he parts from you. You smile as he heads out of your bedroom, picking up the purse on your desk as he goes. He knew you’d forget it otherwise. 

His voice comes muffled from the hallway, “Your chariot awaits!” 

[vagabond-umlaut]

ramé 5.0

love.

a word everyone spells as l-o-v-e, except one certain young sorcerer – to whom it appears h-a-p-p-y, to whom it appears h-a-v-o-c – to whom it appears the shape of the letters of your name.

you, on the other hand, forget how to spell when the same word is before you – a fact which, your admirer reckons, would have been a major problem were he not he – that is, were he not the one and only 'gojo satoru'.

and thus begins, the plan.

and thus begins, the six steps to catch one's crush's eye — by the six eyes.

|5/6| splurge on gifts.

[READ 1.0 HERE AND 2.0 HERE AND 3.0 HERE AND 4.0 HERE!]

▸ student!gojo satoru x student!reader; fem!reader; classic example of 'if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain' chapter - grab an umbrella, folks! 🥰 [this is simply a soft romantic(??) angst fest before the happy ending next chapter, ppl! 😊]

▸ find other parts of 'ramé' and other [stand-alone] fics set in the same universe as this work here! anyways, image, divider & characters ain't mine. pls don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

"and what can this be?"

the silver of the bracelet glints, the tiny sapphires in its rim adding a sparkling effect as you show it to gojo. the boy drags his gaze from it to you, lips pressing into a line as he takes in the way you're looking at him.

two months back, if someone even merely insinuated at the fact you might be growing distant from him, he wouldn't have thought once before retaliating with a mean word or hit.

and, to be just, why on earth would he not?

yes, the 'date' he had proposed to take you on post mission remained just a proposal - many thanks to the old geezers and their knack for providing severely understated mission details [bitter sarcasm wholly intended] - but that didn't drive a wedge between you both; quite the opposite, in fact.

two months back, he found you sobbing at his bedside in the school infirmary, lips pressing kisses to his bruised knuckles time and again, while you kept mumbling on how you should've been more wary and cognizant of your surroundings, how he shouldn't have switched his infinity off to guard you from the caving roof and how you would buy him a milion sweets if he promised to not be reckless, but wouldn't hesitate to kill him with your CT if he broke the promise even once.

lovingly overprotective in an irresistibly cute way - that's exactly how you grew to be around gojo in the days he was healing, in the latter's eyes. suguru and shoko's comments too grew less teasing and more encouraging with time then - something which made him think, the feelings in his being might not be as one-sided as he tends to believe at times.

something which made him think, there might not be a day he has to imagine without your radiant grin directed at him, for him, because of him.

yet, now... as he regards you with utmost attention...

the sorcerer can't help but deem the unimaginable to have occurred.

face grim, eyes dull, lips puckered into a scowl, every fucking time you've come across him since your return to school from your home...

it doesn't really take a genius to gather you don't really want to be in his vicinity - a realisation which leads to your best friend of a decade and a few years to shower a torrent of gifts on you.

under the impression, that's what will return your keen undivided gaze to him - an impression, he watches, being tainted wrong with every other second that passes under the fading daylight.

you return the bracelet to its box and place it in the bag, one the boy knows contains the other gifts he had left at your doorstep or sent via shoko or haibara to you, the past month - and one you intend to give him back - 'cause for what else could you have asked to meet him at the training grounds this evening, carrying the bag, if not this?

wishing, not for the first time, for his six eyes to be able to glean your current state of mind, he asks, scooting slowly, deliberately to your seated form on the bench, "did you not like it, shor-"

"please don't call me that."

the grin slowly unfurling on gojo's lips stutters, then vanishes in the heat of the fury of your eyes. he watches your gaze roam over his face once before skittering away. your voice grows a mild tremor, "please don't call me that. i don't want to hear that nickname ever again."

the soda can nearly slips from between his fingers onto the grass below before he grasps it again, firmer this time, and tosses it upside down to empty it into his mouth. it's a brand you had introduced him to, gojo reminisces, on a day just like this... grins and squeals as you jumped in front of the vending machine, so, so joyed that it had your favourite drink.

soon after, it became the white-haired boy's favourite drink too - but no longer now. not when the fruity tang of the liquid, which endeared it to you as you claimed, tastes like the metallic clang of blood to him.

now, many might call gojo overdramatic here - you've asked him not to call you that countless times now, for fuck's sake - but many don't know you the way your friend does. in horrifying contrast to before, a note of revulsion exists in your words.

undisguised disgust paired with loathing.

sharp enough to pierce infinity, past skin, muscles, ribs and layers of tissues and chains, into that stupid organ strumming melancholic rhythms now, your name bleeding raw from its walls.

superfluous, some might scoff - but they'll have never known there's a dark side to love, the one gojo's traversing now. though... the young sorcerer muses, finishing the drink and sending it into the trash can with a flick of his cursed energy, they'll never have known you. they'll never have known the degree to which the boy adores you, either.

a strong whoosh of wind hits the two of you, carrying the smell of wet earth with it. a sign of the arrival of your favourite season, your friend absently notes as he looks back at you.

the tip of your nose appears flushed red.

"and may i know why?"

shock brims your gaze at the soft question. gojo watches you cough up a strained chuckle. "i knew you to be more assertive. demanding. never thought you could request for an explanation... what changed, 'to-" you still for a beat, then continue, burning another bridge, same as the boy feared an instant too early, "i mean, gojo-senpai?"

"you're the best person to answer that," the mentioned person replies with lips forming a gentle curve. yes, the limitless user's always been one hell of a self-assured person - it comes free with the package of receiving god-like treatment by most from before you can crawl - but there exist times when all that - the fight, the zeal, the energy - every one of those just ebbs away from his body, rendering him the hapless spectator, and victim, to the car crash.

except a car crash might hurt less than the careless sneer you shoot his way, coupled with an eye roll. you never gave him such a look in the past, before you went back home for the vacation. just what-

"i think you know why i called you here, yeah?" you ask, picking the bag up and pushing it towards him. the things inside it rattle; the boy wonders if you even went through those two books he sent you. they were from the series you had babbled, ranted and gushed to him on for hours on end on numerous occasions, once upon a time.

gojo nods briefly, though doesn't spare it even a glance. it doesn't go past your notice, he notes, given the way your eyes jump from him to his gifts, then to your fiddling fingers. "well, that's one box ticked off," you say, "and as for the other-"

"i know that too; you need not say every fucking thing out loud," your senpai cuts you off with a mirthless inflection to his tone, eyes falling down onto his sneakers. it was a gift from you on his last-

bloody hell, why does everything have to be a sore reminder of you?

"not saying it out loud doesn't make it any less real," your quiet voice tears through his thought, and he looks up. hoping, desperately so, a tender smile is waiting on your features, reserved for him - only to see every hope of his get dashed into the dirt by your frown.

his best friend was right. gojo's pathetically down for you.

a thunder rumbles in the distance.

you continue, "but since you've asked me not to, i guess i won't. that's the least i can do-"

"but what went wrong?" the question hurtles past the confines of his mouth into the stormy air. and, for once, gojo decides not to conceal the moisture in his eyes behind his shades. removing the eyewear, he moves to sit right beside you, approaching to take your hand in his.

you jerk away from him.

as if you were fire and he, water.

as if you were sun and he, non-luminous scarred moon threatening to eclipse your joy.

the white-haired boy retracts his hand away. you glance at him once before averting your gaze away. he watches you clench your hands in a tight fist. "nothing was wrong, senpai," you mumble; gojo bites his lower lip to keep it from wobbling, "but there's always something tiny wrong in everything going right, ya know? i just feel we outgrew our phase of being friends."

the growl of thunder sounds closer this time. a drop of water lands on his thigh - the sorcerer doesn't bother to know if it is his eyes or those clouds above which finally welled over. voice thickening and breaking, a scoff leaves him, "you know, as well as me, that's the lamest excuse ever. and you called us being friends, right?" you take a moment then nod weakly. a pained sigh leaves him, "then what happened to being open with each other, hm? i thought we kept no secrets from each other."

the boy watches you keep your gaze stubbornly trained on the grass beneath. something within him breaks.

"c'mon, don't play dumb," gojo urges, plopping down onto the object of your attention, just so he can have a better view of your face. you face away with a frown. he prompts you again, hints of helplessness sneaking in between his words, "c'mon, shortie. don't look away with the shitty reason of us outgrowing our phase of friendship. we were - no, are the closest. you know, right? that you can tell me any-"

"not everything's meant to remain the same always, senpai!" the loud exclamation leaves your mouth. gojo stills and so do you. his eyes fall on the way you wring your hands once before stuffing them into your hoodie's pockets.

it isn't oversized on you, the realisation clicks into place in his mind.

you let out an exhale through your mouth, then pin him down with eyes teeming with what seems like weary distaste.

"can you please get up? you're creating an unnecessary scene right now."

if your words weren't enough, it's the way you utter them that leaves cracks and fissures in him. one more blow, and the boy's sure he'll be blown away into smithereens - an outcome he's trying to avoid [but knows, can't; every piece of armour he dons turns flimsy before you].

"is it 'cause you tended to my injuries then?" he asks. your lips strain into a line. casting him a sideways glance, you shake your head, "i'm many things but a liar ain't in the list, senpai. when i cared for you, it was from my heart. when i no longer wanna associate with you-"

a dark shadow falls over your features. rising from the bench, you shift your gaze skywards and back on him, "it'll rain pretty soon. you should get back inside."

there's something between summer evenings and you and him, gojo muses as he peers up at you.

it was a summer evening when you first came to visit the boy at this school.

it is a summer evening when you're turning your back on him in this same old school.

with the glaring exception of there being the warmth of your form beside him then versus the gnawing chill you're leaving behind now.

"you never completed your sentence," gojo points out, whispering.

[too loud and the sorcerer fears, the last interaction between the two of you will end as a horrid yelling match. besides, you like things with happy endings, don't you? he'll be sure to give you your happy ending as the last gift.]

you send a restrained twitch of lips his way. "i remember being asked not to say every fucking thing out loud, senpai."

a shaky smile is the only thing he finds he can muster in return, at the moment.

"suguru said you're leaving for your home tonight again," the student says, getting up from the ground and moving closer to, yet too far a distance from you. "don't drive with the windows down, okay? the weather's bad, you might catch a cold."

a muscle in your jaw twitches. the valley between your brows furrows.

gojo lets his smile widen a bit. so shallow. so hollow.

"don't worry," he says, "i'm taking this as seriously as you want me to. it's just that..." trailing off, the boy takes a step away. your feet move an inch towards him before you immediately withdraw them. a small mimicry of a laugh leaving him, gojo fixates his gaze on the iridescent colour of your irises.

"i've always seen you as someone way more than a mere childhood friend, y'know? and no matter what you say or do, i can never and will never stop seeing you the same way. i love you that much, short- oh! sorry, i'm not supposed to call you that, am i?."

a beat passes, then another, and another.

your response comes out as a garbled mess of letters and tears. "you're the worst person ever, 'toru. i hate you."

and with that and not another glance wasted anywhere, you whirl on your feet and dash back to the school.

leaving behind the echo of your words ringing in gojo's ears, louder than the thunder of the lightning crashing on a tree a little away.

▸ it's good to be back in the writing game, y'all! 😇😇

▸ series: we're the summer to our winter rain

▸ masterlist

[taranzas-biggest-fan]

What does/would Zerpy think about any of Kirby’s friends, but especially Gooey? And have xey heard of Elfilis?

"Dont get me started on this guy... he's arrogant and egotistical, so fake. His spell casting is wasteful and inefficient, its like he taught himself. And that stupid ship of his that he holds so dearly! That junk can't even travel universes, what good is it? Dimensional travel is childs play. And then there's his aggressive branding... I've never met someone so in love with themselves. He puts that blue and gold pattern on everything he touches. What a piece of work he is, his only silver lining is he knows how to stand up for himself I suppose, don't tell him I said that."

"Gooey is... I don't trust it. It may be tame, but I would rather keep my distance from such a thing."

"As for Elfilis, yes, I'm aware of them. It's a shame they lost that immense power, if they are able to regain it, I'd love to consider them my equal someday."

Zerpy has a bit of a rivalry with Magolor, but I mean can you blame xem? There's only enough room in a universe for one spellcasting tech alien kitty.

Man, sorry for the yap fest, I spent a while trying to figure out how I'd answer this one. I hope it clears up your question! As to not make this post too too long, I'll include under the cut some more of Zerpy's thoughts I had planned out on other characters but didn't see fitting in the main post, as well as the some of the people who's Magolors you can see above :)

@kirbyoctournament

As for some of those Magos:

@isaackkkbunn

@ant-bunny

@moonverc3x

@autismagolor

@kirby-polis

[drewsbuzzcut]

Absolutely need a Lyla and Jeremy blurb of him going shopping with her for sundresses

Warnings: smuttish

“I like this one,” Jeremy says, pointing to a pale yellow sundress on one of the many racks.

“It is cute,” Lyla agrees, pushing her back further into his chest and enjoying the warmth he emanates.

“I also liked that white one and that pink one over there,” the goalie points out, his eyes locking on the specific articles of clothing.

Lyla hides her knowing smirk behind her small hand. Jeremy is so predictable. He picked out dresses that are strapless, short, and breezy. He loves when she shows as much skin as possible, because he just cannot stand to not have his hands on her.

Lyla casts a questioning glare at her boyfriend, waiting to see how long it takes for him to realize that she knows what he’s doing. He avoids her gaze, his cheeks heating up and a flush spreading down his neck.

“Any particular reason why you picked those?” The girl teases, turning around and looping her arms around his neck.

She leans up on her tiptoes in order to places kisses on his neck.

“Nope,” he murmurs, eyes falling closed as her lips peck at his skin.

Lyla’s seduction is no joke. Whenever Jeremy has the pleasure of her being all over him -which is almost always- he quickly falls under spell.

“Sure,” she jests, reluctantly pulling away.

His hand trails up her neck, though, gripping it and pulling her mouth to his. He inhales each one of her breathy moans, making the girl dizzy with lust. Her minds goes to them having an all out fuck fest, but her thoughts are interrupted by Jeremy’s words.

“I love that I can just pull the top down and suck your nipples into my mouth, and the way I can bunch up your dress and have the perfect view of your pussy,” he leans down and whispers in her ear, breathe hot and needy. She feels her body tingle and her spark of need turns into a full blown fire. He punctuates his words with a firm kiss below her ear and Lyla drags him out of the store and into his car.

[demonbunny5]

The Marvelization of dialogue is a blight on all forms of media and writers need to learn when to let a character shut the fuck up.

Wizard of Legend 2's demo just came out with the steam next fest and the game is constant fucking noise with NPCs making the most surface level quips about every little thing you do in the game.

Grab a pick up? Better make a quip about it!

Smash a breakable object? Quip!

Do literally fucking nothing for a bit? Oh you know that deserves a quip!

Annoyance is magnified because the first game was fucking stellar and managed to weave a compelling world with very little dialogue at all. There's juuuust enough sprinkled around to give you a picture of a wider world without being heavy handed or in your face. Case in point: The opening of the game/tutorial is a modern day setting in a museum with an exhibit on the titular wizard of legend. Your character gets sucked into the past by a weird artifact, and when you eventually beat the game (which will probably take a while because the game is hard as balls) you get sent back to your own time. All the museum displays on the wizard of legend's favorite spells/robes/relics/etc. turn out to be the build you had on your winning run.

It's a cute framing device, but it also feels like the tip of a much bigger iceberg for worldbuilding. Part of the tutorial is museum docents handing out demo arcana to let visitors experience what it's like to be a wizard. NPC parents with their kids say they love to come to the museum to get a chance to shoot fireballs. Some of the visitors are in wizard robes, but they explicitly refer to them as "costumes." All of the exhibits imply that the events of the game happened in the distant past. Are there still wizards around today? Did my character come to the museum because he's an actual student of magic, or was he just the equivalent of a wizard fanboy? There are electric lights and camera phones, are those magic or just regular technology? So many questions, so much potential room to explore in a sequel! I was excited to learn more about the world, and instead I get some dickhead doing let's play commentary over my runs.

Also doesn't help that the first game had beautiful pixel art and the new one looks like it's trying to ape Hades' aesthetic as hard as possible. It's infuriating because the core gameplay is still in there! It's still just as fun, and putting together a sick arcana combo is just as satisfying. But it's all drowned under ten layers of bullshit made to dress it up like something else. Even the fucking wizard selection at the start of a run seems like it was ripped out of Rogue Legacy. Really feels like they had an incredible first attempt and then immediately lost all confidence and just started shoving whatever they saw someone else do into their game. Granted it's a demo and early access, but so far it leaves a really bad taste in my mouth.

Anyways Wizard of Legend 1 is one of the best roguelites ever and you should go play it.