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#Rated E
starchaserdreams · 8 months
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I just remembered those commercials that said "Rated E for Everyone"
AO3 it's more like "Rated E for Everyone Better Take a Good Look at The Tags"
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wynnyfryd · 4 months
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Trailer park Steve AU part 31
part 1 | part 30 | ao3
updating the rating to E. cw: recreational drug use/marijuana, foreplay, mild-to-moderate spit kink
“I feel like a water bottle,” Steve slurs. At some point he wiggled his way between Eddie’s legs to get a better look at his tattoos — starting at his ankles and working his way up, pointing at each piece and asking, "What's this? And what's that?"
Eddie explained each one in turn: the quotes, the lyrics, the silly art. "This one's the Elvish word for friend. That one's from an Iron Maiden song. Oh, the asterisk? It's supposed to be an asshole. No, I'm serious! That's how Vonnegut drew them in his books."
Now Steve’s lying flat on his back between Eddie’s splayed thighs, eyelids heavy, body warm. 'Go Your Own Way' plays softly on the stereo, and Eddie continues his tattoo tour, the fingers of his free hand weaving patterns through Steve's hair — lazy, twirling zig-zags that send skitters of sensation across his scalp and down his spine.
Steve feels like he could die right now. Happy. Held. Content.
Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.
“This is fucking awesome,” he hums.
“Good,” Eddie grins at him, “I’m glad.” He scratches lightly at his scalp. “What were you, uh— what were you saying about a water bottle?”
Oh, right. Steve lifts a hand; pantomimes tilting a bottle back and forth. “Like, uh….. Sssloshy.”
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie snorts. “You’re so high.”
“Mmmmhm.”
“And you look like you’re jerking off a ghost."
“I’ll jerk off your ghost,” Steve mutters petulantly.
"I’m sure my ghost would love that.”
Eddie reaches for the joint and takes another drag, and Steve tilts his neck, arching up to look at him. Bites his lip at the pretty picture Eddie makes: the sharp shadows and delicate lines, the shape of his full lips exhaling rings of smoke. Big for a guy's. He remembers thinking that a couple weeks ago. That they were big. That they looked soft.
And now he thinks: Kissable.
Steve licks his lips. “What about your, uh- not ghost?”
Eddie laughs like he’s watching a newborn puppy try to walk. “You want to touch my dick so bad.”
“S’probably a good dick,” Steve shrugs, unashamed.
He probably should be — ashamed. Guilty for the feelings stirring deep inside his chest; feelings weed brings to the surface, sends southbound, turns to need. He can imagine how the good, god-fearing Catholics who raised him would react if they could see him now, how they'd foam and froth and rage, red-faced and covered in spittle as they shouted that he's condemning himself to Hell.
But the thing is, he's already in Hell. He's been here since July.
And anyway, Hell's kinda nice. Gentle and warm, surprisingly kind. Hell smells like leather and tobacco, like weed and aftershave, and it sounds like Lindsey Buckingham, and it likes to braid Steve's hair.
Hell has endless, inky eyes and probably kisses him with tongue.
Heat spreads through him like molten honey at the thought, spilling hot over the edges, curling in his core, and Steve turns his head to the side and drags his mouth over a tattoo on Eddie’s inner thigh — a cartoon cloud over a curled-up snoozing fox. He noses at the edge of Eddie's shorts; pushes them up.
Goosebumps pebble under the warm press of his lips. "What's this one?" Steve whispers, nudging the fabric further up.
Eddie’s laugh is quiet and strained. "Something I don't want to discuss with your mouth this close to my dick. Stevie," he warns, but it's breathless, full of want. There's a wet spot on his shorts.
Steve pushes onto his belly, blows hot breath over the spot, liquid fire coursing through him at he stares at the bulge in Eddie’s shorts. Blistering heat, the sweetness dense, rich and thick on his tongue; in his veins. He mouths at the crease of Eddie's thigh. Eddie smells so good, like skin and sweat and boy, and Steve wants this. Wants it so badly he feels the ache inside his teeth. I dreamed the goddess poured ambrosia...
Steve feels it drip from head to toe.
"Steve." Eddie's voice is sharp this time, commanding and firm as he fists a hand in Steve's hair — not hurting him; not letting him move. Keeping him from putting his mouth just where he wants.
Steve makes a desperate sound and rocks his hips against the bed.
"Steve, stop," Eddie scolds. Pulls his hair a little harder, like he’s tugging on a leash.
"Eddie, please.” Steve’s eyes roll back, and he shifts his hips again. Just once; just a bit. Not nearly hard enough.
"No. Behave. Be good."
Steve freezes — tenses every muscle, holds himself so still, his face flushing with shame, because he didn’t mean to not be good. Didn’t mean to do anything bad. He blinks at Eddie with watery eyes and says he’s sorry, his voice cracking around the word.
"God," Eddie groans. His fist tightens in Steve’s hair, and his hips twitch off the bed, the curve of his cock brushing the tip of Steve's nose. Fuck. "Holy shit. Roll over."
"What?"
"On your back, like you were before." He’s panting when he says it, and Steve does as he's told; flips over onto his back, face bracketed by Eddie's thighs, the tent in his own shorts embarrassingly big. Obvious.
"Good,” Eddie exhales. “That’s- Jesus. Yeah, that’s good." He sinks back against the wall with a winded sigh.
And then he doesn't say anything else.
Doesn’t even move, just slouches down to catch his breath.
Steve kind of wants to cry; feels chastised and stupid, because of course Eddie doesn't want this. He already said he didn't, didn't he? Not tonight, anyway. And now Steve’s ruined things by being high and dumb and selfish, getting himself worked up over nothing and making it Eddie’s problem, and he'll probably spend the rest of this night miserable and blue-balled because he's a horny idiot, but that's—
It’s fine, if Eddie wants to cool things off; if he doesn't want to— he's allowed to not want—
"Here's what's about to happen.”
Steve snaps his head up to listen. Twists his neck around, sees Eddie lounging against the wall like a bored king on a throne, one ringed hand cupping himself loosely through his shorts. He squeezes once, takes another deep breath; lets it out long and controlled. Steve’s gonna fucking drool. "You’re gonna touch yourself for me.”
Steve moans. Guttural and loud, the sound punched out of his lungs, because Eddie’s voice comes out like gravel — husky, deep, the words authoritative and slow; like Steve needs to be punished; like Eddie’s merciful.
“You’re going to touch yourself exactly how I tell you to, and only how I tell you to. If I say stop, you stop. If I say faster, you speed up. If it's too much—" His hand moves to Steve’s cheek, slapping lightly against the bone. “—you tap out, or you tell me.”
Steve nods his head, entranced. Eddie’s thumb moves to his mouth. “And if you’re very, very good…” He tugs his bottom lip; presses in; lets him suck. “…then I’ll let you watch me come. How does that sound?”
Steve whines; hollows his cheeks, sucking harder, flicking his tongue. Eddie’s thighs clamp down around him, and when he pulls his hand away the spit clings to his thumb, a delicate string connecting them before it breaks. “Asked you a question, sweetheart.” He smears the spit over Steve’s chin. “Does that sound good?”
Steve nearly swallows his tongue.
part 32
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
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steddieunderdogfics · 26 days
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Boltedfruit's "Simple Biology" is another favorite steddie omegaverse fic of mine and it has the cutest premise of Steve and Eddie raising a flour sack baby together for heath class and falling in love over it.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/50188126/chapters/126752176
Simple Biology by boltedfruit
@boltedfruit
Rating: Explicit
28,467 words, 8/8 chapters
Archive Warning: No Warnings
Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Eddie Munson, Omega Steve Harrington, Alternate Universe - College/University, flour bag baby, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Rituals, Intersex Omegas, Vaginal Sex, Knotting, Light Angst, Fluff and Smut, Breeding Kink, Falling In Love, Scenting, Scent Kink, Scent Marking, more tags to be added with each chapter, growling/purring/trilling, Dominance, lightly - Freeform, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Are Best Friends, also roommates, Steve Harrington-centric, Protective Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Is a Mess, Period-Typical Sexism, Virgin Eddie Munson, Alpha/Omega
Summary:
Steve's first real college assignment is to take care of a flour bag baby. With his class partner Eddie Munson, who happens to be an alpha. - Then Eddie snaps his jaw at the other alpha, the sound of teeth hitting teeth ringing between Steve’s ears. And from his vantage point, he swears he sees Eddie’s eyes flash red. The other alpha's hands slowly unwind from Eddie’s vest. Eddie bears down until the other cowers. It's subtle. A tilt of his head in deference. Eddie’s won. Steve’s mouth waters.
Thanks for the rec!
This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is omegaverse.
Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!
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pocketwei · 3 months
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EXPLICIT // dofcora🦩❤️‍🔥 -> full under the cut
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private penance in the night
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brainrotexe · 3 months
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Wriolette/Neuvithesley | ao3 fanfic | smut | 2.3k 🔞
Intoxicated by brainrotexe
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rockingrobin69 · 5 months
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Erm, hello there, may I perhaps have a trick, with some treat vibes?? Pretty please???
Hello my love! Here's some soft smut for you, rated E.
Most Favourite
“I’m not asking for much,” Draco said, reasonably, “only to be your favourite person in the whole entire world. That’s it.”
Harry, still laughing, wiping his face on his sleeve: “Oh, that’s it.”
“Yes! You don’t even have to love me or anything. You don’t need to make any romantic grand gestures or, or, keep finding new ways to please me, or—although this feels fairly nice.”
To the stubble-rough kisses Harry couldn’t help but pepper on his soft inner thigh. “Fairly nice?”
“Fine, it feels fucking fantastic, happy?”
The grin on his face was starting to ache in the corners. “Delirious,” Harry said, and settled himself between Draco’s legs, mouthing the gap under his briefs. “C’mon, baby, help me get these off.”
Draco was mumbling something about getting off, but he did lift his sweet arse so that Harry could pull the boxers down, kissing the soft, fuzzy skin he was baring. To the perfect arch of Draco’s foot, curling with ticklish pleasure; back up to nuzzle behind his knee, to lather his thigh with warm licks and to bite the supple, fleshy part of it till Draco squealed.
“Oi! Brute. You didn’t answer my question.”
“There was a question there?” grinning into blond pubic hair. “Sweetheart, you’re gorgeous.”
An indignant shriek. “You know that wasn’t it!”
“My love,” sprinkling adoring kisses on the base of Draco’s cock, “my sincerest apologies, but I’m a little bit busy, see,” and the sharp breathing and the stirring interest and the lovely pink on Draco’s cheeks when he looked up assured him Draco supported the endeavour. Still, and only savouring it a little: “Would you like me to stop?”
Draco had the cutest pout. “No?” he said. “No. Just—I know it’s terribly childish but I need, ah,” voice melting when Harry traced a wet finger down his crack and round and round his hole.
“You need?” a little cruelly, making up for it with a generous lave of his cock, which had conveniently, fantastically, started to drip.
“Harry,” more a moan than a demand now. “Don’t—ah—change the subject. I—hngh,” trembling under his hands, the dearest and most beautiful little menace Harry’d ever seen. “More!”
“More?” incredulously, enamoured, “oh, no. I think you might need more.”
Squirming and convoluting, entangling himself in the sheets, already so frantic and truly, Harry’s barely even done anything. Apart from teasing him and teasing him and maybe sucking with a little more vigour now, tongue slipping on the vein on the underside of Draco’s perfect cock, and the finger Harry didn’t realise had gone a full knuckle in kept going in circles and, huh, Harry still had his clothes on? Hot, but unnecessary.
With only one hand, and a smidge of his concentration, Harry managed to rid himself of the shirt, and halfway done with the jeans (“Ah, ah, Ha-rry, fuck, ah, gods”) and fuck, if his boxers just, down to the knees right that will do, and in desperation and with the scorching heat of Draco all around him he nearly missed the wail, which would have been a real shame. Every minute of this was a miracle, and—the look on Draco’s face. “What is it?” with a sudden pang of dread. “Darling?”
“I just,” Harry didn’t know if this was good-sobbing or bad-sobbing, but his heart clenched anyway, “I need to know it’s possible. I know you have so many, ah, fuck, there are much better people in your life and, and, Harry, I can’t think when you’re doing that!”
“Doing—” he realised his finger was still moving. Made it stop. “Draco, if what’s possible?”
“If I could ever be your…” desolately looking away, and Harry’s chest was a riot and nothing made sense besides—
“Favourite?” blinking at the contorted face, at this ridiculous, ridiculous man, “you want to know if you can be my favourite? Bloody—absolute ninny, of course you already are?”
“Am what?”
Harry shook his head, words failing him for a moment, then leaned down to pet Draco’s cheek. “A wanker,” he laughed, and kissed his cheek. “A git,” kissed the other one. “An absolute twat,” the tip of his nose. “And my absolute favourite person. You berk.”
Draco laugh-sobbed, eyes big and grey. “Really?”
“Really,” unable to look at him, trailing kisses down his neck, his shoulder, his sides.
“And you couldn’t bloody say so when I practically went and made a gigantic arse of my—argh!” when Draco’s cock was back where it belonged. “Merlin! Give a man a warning, will you?”
Harry shrugged and resumed his very important mission of sucking another confession out of Draco. Maybe if he made him see stars Draco would admit that Harry’s his favourite, too.  
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onirislanding · 4 days
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Shed His Grace
Written for the @steddiemicrofic bonus round ‘birthday’ + 290 words. Happy Birthday, @steddieas-shegoes! Thank you for everything you do and have a wonderful day!
Rated E. This fic is an outtake from the All I’m Saying Pretty Baby series :)
--
It’s overcast, unseasonably cool. Sitting out on top of Eddie’s van in the hot sun would have sucked, but Steve would have done it, because Eddie wants to watch the fireworks, apart from the crowds.
“Last thing I need is a bunch of patriotic, Happy Birthday America bullshit, honey,” he’d said.
They’ve got a cooler of beer and soda, and put away thick ham sandwiches earlier. Steve takes a bite out of a just-ripe peach, juice escaping past his lower lip. Eddie darts toward that rivulet, licks it up with a pointed, precise tongue. Steve doesn’t catch on that Eddie’s going for his neck until it’s too late.
“Ptaw!” Eddie exclaims, face screwed up in disgust. Steve passes over his open beer. 
“Bug spray, remember?” Steve says. Eddie rolls his eyes and swigs the beer, spits a mouthful over the side. “You have to be good til we get home.”
Telling Eddie to be good: sometimes it makes him docile and whiny in the hottest way, but other times it’s like throwing down a gauntlet to be more wicked. Going on Eddie’s expression, things are about to swing wicked.
“You didn’t spray it down your pants, right?” he says. 
“As a matter of fact, I did not,” Steve replies smoothly. There’s a buzz in the distance, crickets heralding the sun’s farewell. The fireworks should start soon. 
Eddie pounces on Steve’s shorts, undoes the button and pulls out his cock. A long lick up the underside and Steve’s halfway to hard, is making calculations about getting his mouth on Eddie in return without either of them eating shit off the side of the van.
“Fuck,” he says as Eddie goes down. “Happy Birthday, America.” 
Eddie laughs around him, and doesn’t stop.
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Until the storm comes
Written for @steddiemicrofic, July 2023
prompt: pool | 442 words
Rated: E
Tags/cw: D/S dynamics; sub!Steve; dom!Eddie; Eddie is a bit mean, I guess (they're both really into it though)
Beware: smut under the cut (heh, that rhymes)
The late July night is thick and syrupy with heat. Even with the windows open, it pools sluggishly in the bedroom, not even the slightest breeze stirring the curtains. The first telltale signs of the coming thunderstorm rumble in the distance, the taste of ozone heavy in the air, a promise of relief.
Desire pools in Eddie’s abdomen, warm and slow. Like the storm, it has been building for hours, has become this thick and palpable thing that hangs in the room like something solid. It wants to break loose, but he won’t let it. Not yet. Not when waiting is so sweet, not when the sight in front of him is delicious like this. 
Steve’s arms are crossed on the headboard, forehead resting on top of them, that pretty hair ruined and tousled, sticking to his neck in wet, dark strands. He is propped up on his knees, back in an obscene arch, that glorious ass on perfect display. His thighs are shaking with exertion and he keeps making these high, nasal whining sounds from deep in his throat while Eddie slowly moves his fingers inside of him. Languid curling motions and stretches, a slow glide of in and out and in again. His hips are twitching in small, barely there spasms, longing to move, to seek release, but he doesn’t. Because Eddie hasn’t told him to move, has he? 
“Such a good boy.” 
Eddie’s voice drips heavy and sweet like honey, like the air, like the weight of their desire. He bends down and drags his tongue over the bright red handprint on Steve’s right thigh, evidence of his sole attempt at misbehavior earlier. Steve shivers when he blows lightly on the spot, and blood pools below the surface of his skin, coloring the fresh bruise pink and pretty. Eddie curls his fingers inside of him and a wrecked little sound tumbles from Steve’s lips. 
“What do you need, sweet thing?” 
“Eddie, please!” Steve’s voice is hoarse with need. “It's too much, I need to move, I-"
Eddie tuts sharply, hand tightening over the bruise, and Steve falls silent. A bead of sweat trickles down his back, pools at the base of his spine. Eddie leans in and kisses it away. 
"Oh, baby. But you're so pretty like this, and I've only just started. You can go a bit longer for me, can't you?"
Steve bites back a sob but nods shakily against the pillow of his arms. 
"Words, love?" 
"Yes, sir." 
God, he is perfect, isn't he? Eddie will make his reward so, so sweet when he finally lets him have it. 
Maybe he'll wait until the storm comes.
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supercanaries · 6 months
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Ship: Dabi Hawks 🦅🐍 Rating: 🔞 Tags: A / B / O, Omega Hawks, Alpha Dabi Notes: For Kinktober 2023 from the firecanaries kinktober list. Might be developped from drabble to full fic in the future ✨.
˜
Not a single coherent thought is going on in Hawks’s brain anymore, nothing but the wonderful feeling of being filled by his alpha. 
Touya’s perfectly swollen dick stretches him oh so well Hawks cannot bring his eyes to focus. He’s a squirming mess underneath Touya’s sweaty flesh, sunk in the sticky sheets with his legs up and wrapped around the villain’s torso, his sight blurred and his lips unable to form any words that aren’t curses or a relentless stream of yesyesyes whenever Touya hits that spot, the thin rim that separates his alpha from his womb deep inside.
“You take me so, so well, fuck,” Touya’s mouth hisses straight in his ear, his tongue coming out to play with his earring between kisses, “so tight, so wet, all for me.”
Every bit of Hawks feels like he’s gonna go insane at any moment. His omega purrs stronger at every thrust of Touya inside him, his animal instincts from his mutation growing more impatient at every slap of Touya’s fat, full balls against his ass, his sanity burning as if Touya was setting it on fire himself. 
So when Touya pulls his face back from his neck and slides his tongue inside Hawks’ mouth, he just whines and babbles against him, pleading, not sure what for.
His legs startle around Touya and he only realizes he has his nails sinking deep in the burnt and sane skin of his back when Touya chuckles against his mouth.
“You’re so wild today,” he says between kisses, full of himself as a consequence, his eyes a blurred blue mess in Hawks’s wet eyesight, “What’s gotten into you, pretty bird?”
Hawks wishes he had any type of answer, but instead all he has is moaning moremorepleasemore straight into Touya’s mouth as he squirms from below, trying to roll his hips to meet his thrusts. 
Touya doesn’t seem to mind, though. He tries to keep control – it’s clear, and manages quite well considering just how desperately he’s fucking into Hawks like his life depends on it, but Hawks doesn’t miss the way his hands slip from the mattress twice or three times, of the way his knees seem less secure on the bed than they were minutes ago.
His fingers grab the sheets and he grunts over Hawks’s face, drops of sweat coming off his face and straight onto Hawks’s cheeks until Touya’s practically fuming all over, smoke coming out of his body, and Hawks can smell the burn from the sheets at the side of his head. 
“Fuck, wanna come inside you so, so badly,” Touya curses between gritted teeth, slapping Hawks’ asscheeks with his hips. Hawks whines in spite of the slick flowing out of his body and slipping between thrusts to pool on the bed beneath his ass. Touya reaches to kiss his mouth, caressing Hawks’s tongue with his own. “I know, I know, I’m not going to,” he breathes over his mouth and fucks into Hawks like he’s really going to instead, “but I want to so bad.”
Yeah, Hawks wants that too.
He wants to feel Touya deep inside his womb, wants his knot so badly he might cry over it. He wants to be stretched by him just once, wants their bond to be physical again, like the time Touya claimed his gland and branded him his. He wants Touya to spill inside of him, fill him with his pups so that he can carry them for his beloved alpha. That’s definitely not going to happen, possibly ever. 
His legs tighten around Touya’s back and waist, as he tries to pull him closer, as if the villain wasn’t already inside him and couldn’t possibly get any closer. But Touya gets it anyway. He bends down to kiss Hawks’ mouth messily, tongues wrapping together in a clumsy dance, heads tilting frantically and almost never creating the right angle. But they’re both too gone to care. 
“‘m close,” Touya whispers inside his mouth.
“Yesyes,” Hawks practically pleads back against his tongue, reaching with his hands through Touya’s white hair, pulling him closer, devouring his mouth sloppily, rolling his hips to meet his thrusts. Fuck, nothing feels better than pleasing his alpha. Hawks throbs and leaks just from the thought of Touya coming because of him.
“Gonna pull out,” Touya kisses him, “in a moment.”
He kisses him again.
Hawks’ omega screams no in his brain, in his heart, in his soul.
He wants to be filled so badly, he can feel the tears form at the corner of his eyes. The strangled cry that comes out of his throat proves it too. 
He’s wanted it before, sure, but this time it feels different. This time his toes curl at his feet, his thighs start trembling and the mess of what remains of his wings quivers in anticipation. His lower belly feels warm, itchy and pulsing, and his face is practically on fire. Not even Touya’s boot on his cheek felt that way. He knows something is up. He can tell his body is responding differently, but fuck it if he knows what it is and if he’s going to let it stop him from making his alpha come.
“Hawks,” Touya says over his mouth, not kissing back when Hawks’s reaches for his lips with his own. His tone is suddenly serious. 
“What?” Hawks only realizes his eyes were closed when he opens them.
Cerulean eyes are staring back at him strangely.
Hawks isn’t sure he’s ever seen this specific look in Touya’s eyes.
They’ve fucked plenty when Hawks was under cover, and he knows they took it where they shouldn’t have. He knows because he has a mark to prove it. Because Dabi became his alpha and because Touya still is. But he’s never seen Touya give him such a look. His eyes look bigger in the dim light of Hawks’s room. His gaze is softer and genuinely surprised. Hawks didn’t think anything could surprise Touya anymore. 
It’s beautiful, the way his lips are slightly parted in shock. His eyebrows are arched upwards comically. It almost looks like someone else’s face but it’s still his alpha.
“Why did ya stop?” Hawks lazily rolls his hips.
He can feel Touya throb at the motion. He has to be so, so close.
“Baby bird, I don’t think you realize.” His lips twitch in a grin. It’s sly, maybe proud, but it’s not malicious. “You’re locking me.”
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sunborn-tenacity · 2 months
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Pre-timeskip. Exams are approaching quickly. Since you’ve been extremely focused on studying for your exams and working on the rest of your projects and assignments lately, you’ve been forgetting to eat more often than not. Bela takes note and decides something must be done about that.
Part 2 of Side Stories Within MOA!Universe
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atthepotters · 1 month
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Copy shop chick
She tidied up the till at the copy shop and then looked up. Harry appeared in front of her and smiled.
“Hello,” she said.
He placed a hand on the till and looked at her. “I have a complicated print job, can you help me?”
Her eyes danced to the computer screen and back. “Sorry, I have a meeting in five minutes.” She glanced back at the screen. “... With you apparently.”
He grinned at her, looking rather proud of himself.
She clicked open the appointment to see the details. “Half an hour. Aren’t we ambitious?”
Full oneshot on AO3
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whimsicalmeerkat · 5 months
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I think I know a secret - teen wolf
On AO3
“Oh man, bobbing for apples. I bet you killed at that game, what with the fangs and all,” Stiles exclaims, pulling Derek from his thoughts. “You could clean up at that.”
Stiles learns something unexpected about Derek during the fall festival.
Written for the @sterekposevents Fall In Love With Sterek event.
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bunny-hoodlum · 26 days
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be the end of me - chapter nine
Think I might finally be all angst-ed out for the time being 🥲
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steddieunderdogfics · 26 days
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for omegaverse weekend: i'd build a home with you by blipblot it was just posted but already an instant favorite for me so sweet and soft
I'd Build A Home With You by blipblot
Rating: Explicit
15,401 words, 1/1 chapters
Archive Warning: No Warnings
Tags: Omega Verse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Eddie Munson, Omega Steve Harrington, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington, Virgin Eddie Munson, Nesting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Knotting, Intersex Omega Anatomy, boys being silly while having sex, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining
Summary:
“But if there’s no kids to pick up and no more Hellfire, then what are you doing in here?” Eddie frowns, dropping the hair away from his mouth. “Not that there’s anything wrong with just chilling in your nest but like you were saying it’s not exactly easy to get into the school without an excuse, right?” Steve’s expression grows more and more tense the longer Eddie speaks and he tapers off into silence as he notices Steve’s discomfort. There’s an awkward silence before Steve shifts uncomfortably and makes a vague motion with his hands. “My heat, man,” he finally gets out. “I’m about to go into heat.” --- Or Eddie finds Steve's nest hidden away in the bowels of the school and offers to help him out
Thanks for the rec!
This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is omegaverse.
Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!
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dnffics-archive · 2 months
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touching you—so I don't forget you're here
by lonelybug
Rated E, 9 chapters, 60.8k words
Tags: Friends with Benefits, Mutual Pining, Slowburn
Summary:
George can’t find anyone who satisfies him in bed—and yet Dream doesn’t expect him to ask him for help. Or for his entire world to be turned upside down by casually hooking up with the person he’s been in love with for the past five years.
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brainrotexe · 4 months
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Wriothesley x Gn!Reader (Smut) 🔞
600 words
Tags: ⛓ pwp, free use mentions, rope bondage, rough sex, marks, bruises, biting, wriothesley's a bit possessive of you, light BDSM, mentions of you/others (the whole prison is [consensually] passing you around... but wrio wants you all to himself)
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Wriothesley x Reader:
Routinely fucking an inmate was not on the list of things Wriothesley expected to do as the duke. But it was inevitable.
You practically begged for it.
Apparently, when you were in the overworld, you were used to a certain level of sexual activity. An extremely high level, from what Wriothesley had observed. You never seemed to tire, always wanted more, willing to fuck anyone. And even if it was a bad idea….
Wriothesley gave you what you asked for.
He pushed into your tight walls, into that familiar soft heat, his tie having been stuffed in your mouth to keep you quiet. You talked excessively during sex, even when it wasn’t necessary, dirty phrases and pet names on your lips that made Wriothesley’s cheeks too hot to handle. It was easier to fuck you without thinking too hard about it if you stayed quiet.
Besides, you liked being tied up. Really liked it.
You were staring into Wriothesley’s eyes now, arms restrained behind your back in thin red rope, bites and bruises along your skin from all the prisoners you’d begged to fuck you far rougher than most would. Some of them belonged to Wriothesley, the ones around your neck, visible for all to see – know that the duke had gotten hold of you first, even if they all had a taste, too.
Most nights you two fucked alone. But sometimes you let the others line up, laid flat over a table, waiting as they came one by one and fucked you, filled your wet hole with cum, left you a dripping, mindless mess.
Wriothesley would scoop you up after and drag you to the showers, clean you off, make you suck him off as thanks for the aftercare.
It was depraved. Far from anything Wriothesley had thought of doing before. But you made it so easy to not feel guilty about it. You were so enthusiastic and willing that Wriothesley just wanted to use you, fuck you into the mattress, have you all to himself and claim you, rub the other guys’ scents off.
Sometimes it didn’t even feel like you were a criminal. How could someone like you be so submissive? So easy to make undone? So pliant and soft, devoid of the harsh traits one would expect?
Soft. You were so soft. Even now, beneath Wriothesley, you were soft and sweet and dripping wet, filled by Wriothesley’s dick, the lewdest sound as your bodies slapped together.
You moaned – loudly – as you always did, vocal encouragement that went a long way in making Wriothesley want rounds two and three. Maybe Wriothesley was the one who couldn’t get enough. You offered and… Wriothesley would take. He’d always take. Any time of day he’d drop everything and take you.
He kissed you on your sloppy, bruised lips, tugged hard on the back of your hair. Your eyes were filled with tears, another sign of your clear enjoyment as Wriothesley bit down on your exposed neck. Another bruise, another ring of his teeth, a mark of his.
“Yes!” you managed to cry out, even through the makeshift gag in your mouth, you couldn’t help it, begged for more, “Please, sir.”
Wriothesley growled, felt the request deep in his stomach, slammed into your warm hole. Listened to the slap, the squelch. Felt the way you hugged around him, clamped down when Wriothesley pressed your thighs up higher.
Was it healthy to want someone this viscerally? To have such carnal hunger for a single human being?
What would he do when your sentence was over?
He didn’t want to think about it.
***
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