#i like to draw girls with floaty hair
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Singing in the Rain
jason todd x f!reader
summary: you get caught in the rain after a date, and well, there's really only so much you can do to entertain yourselves until it stops pouring
tags: kissing, fingering, fluff
rating explicit (mdni) | wc: 1.6k
a/n: inspired by an ask from @orchidsangel. ro this prompt crawled inside my brain and would not let me know peace until i had written it
The restaurant Jason chose for your date night was excellent, as always. Good drinks, better food, and even better, close enough to Jason’s apartment to walk to. It had been a beautiful summer’s afternoon, and the two of you had decided to walk to dinner, anticipating a walk back in the cool night air, hands interlaced and bellies full.
“You know, this might just be my new favourite restaurant. Going to have to come down to this part of the city more often.” you sigh, satisfied.
“Oh?” and a cocked eyebrow shouldn’t look so adorable on a man of his size but it does. “Are you saying that a good restaurant is your only draw to this side of town?”
“Well,” you pretend to think it over, “there might just be this cute guy I know that lives only a few blocks away. Maybe I’ll have to give him a visit too. Only after I’ve eaten myself silly of course.”
“Yeah? Well I’ll just have to make sure the dessert I serve is worth your while.” He’s fully waggling his eyebrows, such an exaggerated leer on his face that you swat at his shoulder to try and get him to stop, but he just dances out of the way. He makes the most ridiculous faces, your Jason, when he’s trying to get you to laugh, and it works too.
You’re almost bent in half from the force of your giggles, Jason coming to a stop in the pool of light thrown by the streetlamp to watch you dissolve. The giggles pass eventually, but the smile never leaves your face. Loosening your arms from where they’d been clutching around your middle, you start to straighten up, drawn into Jason’s orbit. The look on his face has transformed into something soft and real, eyes bright and lips parted a hair. His lock of white hair has fallen into his eyes, but he’s so transfixed by you in your floaty dinner dress that he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s got his arms wrapped around your back, drawing you close, head turned up to his like a flower follows the sun. If this were a movie, this is the part where he’d kiss you senseless under the stars and street light.
What actually happens is the skies open up, buckets of water raining down on you in seconds. You give out a little shriek, surprised at the sudden cold interruption to your romantic evening. The two of you look up at the sky, as if your attention would change anything about the situation. Jason looks back down at you, mischievous grin catching your eye before his lips are on yours, warm and soft and slick with rain. He draws back far to soon, has you chasing after his lips for more.
“C’mon!” he yells, barely audible over the sound of the rain. “I think there’s a phone booth up ahead, we can wait out the worst of it there.” He grabs your hand and turns, careful not to run too fast to risk you tripping in your heels on the wet pavement.
The phone box is there, exactly where Jason said it was. It’s a tight fight. Jason’s a large man and the phone booth was only meant to hold one after all. You’re jammed into the corner, between the phone set and the side wall, Jason looming over you. His body swallows you up; if anyone were looking in from the outside, they wouldn’t be able to see you at all. He notices his hair dripping water into your face, slicks it back with one hand and leaning his elbow on top of the phone box, managing to take up even more space with that one movement.
“So Mr. Todd, do you corner girls in phone booths often?” the line’s only marginally better than ‘do you come here often’, but your goal here isn’t to be a wordsmith, it’s to tease him. And it works wonderfully.
“Only if they’re as pretty as you.” He leans down, presses a kiss to your forehead. “Only if they’re as clever as you.” A kiss, barely there, to the tip of your nose. “Only if they’re as maddening as you.” said, hovering right over your mouth.
You shiver, whether from the rain or his words or his proximity, you couldn’t say. All you know is that you need him closer. Finally, after what seems like two lifetimes, does he give you what you want. He kisses you, softly. Nips at the swell of your bottom lip before licking into the seam of your mouth. His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, keep you exactly where he wants you to be. Against the coolness of your rain chilled skin, his touch is like fire. You press your thighs together, overwhelmed with need but happy to carry on like this. The two of you get lost in the rhythm of lips and tongue, sweet and heady but tinged with desperation like you’ll never get this chance again. You shiver again, and Jason pulls back with concern, worried the rain has done you worse than expected.
“Doin’ alright darlin’?”
The chill from the rain has gone from your cheeks, chased away by the flush in them. Your pupils are blown wide, eyes glassy and dark for the man in front of you. Your chest is heaving, breath stolen away from you by all of those kisses. His hand goes to your side to steady you, brushing the side of your breast in the tight quarters. Jason doesn’t miss the way that glancing touch makes your body go taught, legs pressing even tighter together. He doesn’t miss the way that your sodden wrap dress clings to your body, nipples visible even through the built in bra. The rain is still drumming away, sound and sight isolating the two of you in your own little universe inside the phone booth.
“Or is there something I can help you out with?” his hand moves back up from your waist, cups your breast with a warmth you can feel even through the wet fabric. You nod, eagerly, and his thumb is brushing over your pebbled nipple with broad strokes. He kisses you, a distraction while his other hand starts playing with your neglected breast. If your panties weren’t already wet from the rain, they’d be soaked now. Jasons’ large hands feel so so good, cupping and teasing and cradling you, but you need more.
Pulling back for a second, you grab at one of his wrists. Trail his hand along your body, enjoy the anticipation and trail of blooming heat as his large palm settles between your legs to cup you.
“Need more. Please?” you asked through dewy lashes.
He inhales, sharply. “Okay, but you tell me to stop if you don’t like something, got it?” You kiss him in response. Jason promptly shoves his hand down the front of your panties, a little shocked by just how wet you are already.
“This all for me darlin’?” he grins, suddenly predatory. “Good.” And there’s a finger, thick and calloused and impossible hot sliding into you. It’s only one finger but the stretch is perfect, thicker and more satisfying than your own fingers, reaching so much deeper.
There’s a moment’s pause as you clench down at the sudden fullness, then the finger starts to thrust, curling inwards on every forward motion. Jason’s kissing at your jaw but you can barely concentrate over how good he feels inside of you. He’s got his thumb on your clit, alternating firm circles with light taps and its driving you crazy. You’re so wet now, you can just hear faint sopping sounds every time he drives his hand into you over the thrum of the rain.
A second finger prods at your entrance to test how ready you are, just as burning hot as the first one. It slides in with almost no resistance, pulling high breathy moans from you as he speeds up. He’s so thick, his two fingers splitting you open almost obscenely. On every thrust they curl into the soft spongy part of your walls that has you shuddering, pleasure sparking through you. The pressure on your clit never lets up, only varies, and the hand on your breast keeps kneading and teasing at your nipple. Your head falls back with a thunk, hitting the corner of the phone booth. There’s a high pitched whining sound that you vaguely recognize as coming from you, but you couldn’t stop it if you’d had the power to string together the thought to do so.
Jason is relentless, thrusting and grinding his hand into you, encouraging you to ride his fingers, driving your pleasure onward. The pressure in your belly is growing, muscles twitching and tightening. You scrabble to hold onto anything, knocking the phone off its hook to dangle on its cord, pleasure twisting and tightening where Jason keeps fucking into you.
When you come, it’s to ringing ears and legs unable to hold your weight up. Jason works a knee between your thighs and gets your hips to grinding against him to ride out the spasms of your orgasm. He pulls his hand out of your panties and waits until your soul has finally returned to your body before making eye contact and licking every last drop of you from his fingers. You shiver and twitch at the sight of his tongue curling around his knuckles to taste every sticky trace of you, grind your poor oversensitive clit into his thigh over and over.
Jason helps you to unsure feet, wobbling like a newborn doe in your high heels. He pulls your panties up into place and helps you right your dress. He’s just finished retying the bow for you when the sounds of the rain peter off. He glances out the glass door as you smooth your hands down the wet fabric of your skirt one more time.
“Rain’s letting up. Why don’t we run back to my place and have that dessert?” His grin is positively wolfish.
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#jason todd smut#jason todd imagine#jason todd fic#jason todd headcanon#red hood x reader#red hood x you#18+ mdni#sunnie writes 🌻
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I was thinkin about lifeguard Steve and the way the pool was on Jason's list of places Eddie might be and then this happened. Not sure when it takes place. Eddie's hair is around his shoulders so maybe s2-ish? Pop it into canon wherever you'd like my dears!
Steve's been a lifeguard at the pool for a few years now. Maybe trained for it when he was a freshman. And he.... idley knows that Eddie Munson deals in the small patch of woods behind the pool. Everyone knows that. Or at least, anyone who buys drugs.
Steve had gotten pot from him once. But not behind the pool. Didn't wanna risk getting caught and losing his job. Because yeah, the kids can get a bit roudy, but he genuinely likes being there to help people if, and when, they need it.
The thing is. He sees Eddie pop in sometimes. He wanders in. Looking skiddish when it's overly crowed. Steve watches him, every time he comes in. Not because he's suspicious, or thinks Eddie's gonna do anything. But because sometime he feels the way Eddie looks in crowds. And it makes him feel better to watch him. To look out for him. Even if Eddie doesn't know he's doing it.
And he sees Eddie look at him sometimes. Squinting through the sun and his bangs, his feet dangling in the water as he tries to cool off without getting all the way in the water. His hair is just above his shoulders. Getting longer every year.
Steve tries not to think about how much he wants to tuck it behind Eddie's ears for him, wonders if Eddie would follow him into the janitors closet at school if he asked. If he left a note in his locker. Wonders if he'd just think Steve wants weed from him. Like last time. And not that Steve wants him.
Because Steve can't want that. That's what everyone says. But he watches Eddie smile at a little girl in a bright pink floaty. Her mother smiling too when the little girl leans forward, makes bubbles with her mouth at Eddie. And Eddie wiggles his fingers back at her, nudges her floaty with his toe genlty, sends her spinning and giggling. And Eddie throws his head back and laughs and Steve wants.
Steve can see he's a good guy. But he sees how people look at him. How the other jocks talk about him. Call him names. Things they'd call Steve too if they knew what he was. So Steve keeps his mouth shut. And his eyes on Eddie Munson.
And then one day, the pool is crowded. Packed. All the kids and teens and parents shoved in like sardines and Steve watches Eddie hesitate at the gate. His eyes roaming over the crowd, teeth worrying into his lip, his hand falls away twice.
But he wipes at the sweat on his face and sets his shoulders. Shuffles into to the pool area and heads for his normal spot. The corner of the pool at the shallow end. He just likes to dip his feet in. That's all. Steve has never seen him actually in the water. Crowd or not.
There's a yell, Eddie's head snaps in that direction. Some asshole from the basketball team, Steve knows him, but not well. He yells at Eddie and Steve's hackles rise, he sits forward on his chair more. Watching as the boy and a few of his friends start moving towards Eddie. He sees Eddie bump into someone as he tries to move away from them.
A scream from the other end of the pool draws Steve's attention. For just a moment. It was just some kids. Splashing each other.
Steve moves his eyes back to where Eddie was. He's gone. Replaced with the group of laughing boys.
But Steve's observant. His eyes land on the mom and little girl Eddie had played with last time he was here. She's holding her daughter on her hip, her eyes worried, staring at the shallow end. Her eyes move up, like they're in slow motion, they meet Steve's, and she points, wordlessly, into the water. Her little girl is crying now. Maybe sensing the dread her mother is clearly feeling.
Steve moves fast after that. Blows his whistle and jumps down. Shouts for everyone to get out of the pool and dives in, slipping easily past the bodies climbing out.
Eddie's laying at the bottom of the pool. There's a small cloud of blood blooming through his hair, a red halo floating around his head. Steve groans, bubbles flowing from his nose, his stomach sinking as his fingers curl into Eddie's vest. He pulls the boy to his chest and hauls him up. Hefts him over his shoulder and lays him on his back on the concrete as gently as he can.
"Move back. Everyone get back." He says, automatically. The crowd does as they're told as Steve leans down, presses his head against Eddie's chest, he's not breathing.
"Shit." He whispers it, starts chest compressions and breaths air into Eddie's lungs.
It takes 6 breathes. 4 curses. And one,
"C'mon Eddie. Come back to me."
And Eddie coughs. Water spewing out of his mouth as his back arches off the ground. Steve holds his head, doesn't want him to fall back and hit it again.
"There we go. Hey you're okay. It's okay." Steve soothes, Eddie gabbing at his arms, still struggling, sucking in air harshly. Steve pulls him to his chest protectively. Eddie clings to him, his wet hair matted to his face as Steve's hand rests over it, he can feel blood on his fingers. Not a lot. But enough.
He looks up, into the crowd, finds the group of guys, they're smirking, don't even have the decency to look upset that they nearly killed someone.
"What the hell happened?" Steve asks, voice calm, and to those who know him best, that's not a good sign. Steve's eyes find the mom, the one who had laughed with Eddie instead of giving him a sideways wary look and pulling her kid away like the others.
"They threw him in." She said, her face pale, her daughter tucked up under her chin now. Steve feels Eddie shaking in his arms, his clothes still dripping water onto the hot concrete, and looks back to the boys.
"You're banned."
"Oh what? Seriously Harrington?"
"For life. Get out." They try to protest, stupid excuses dripping from their lips.
"Now! Go! Before I call the fucking cops!" Steve shouts, points over their heads at the gate.
"In fact. Everyone out! Pools closed!" No one else argues. Only the mother and her daughter linger as Steve moves his attention back to Eddie. He lets Eddie uncurl from his chest, finds big brown eyes looking at him.
"Thanks man." He breaths, his hand moving to his throat as he coughs again.
"Sure. Lemme get a look at your head too." Steve moves to his side, presses Eddie forward a bit, moves his fingers through his hair. Sucks in air through his teeth when he sees the small gash on his head.
"That bad?" Eddie asks, his hands trembling as they rest on his thighs.
"You might need a couple stitches." Steve says, moving a bit more of Eddie's hair, to see better, he tells himself, not so he can keep touching him.
"I can do it." The voice startles Steve. He looks up, the mother is looking down at them. A soft smile.
"If you have a first aid kit that is. Two stiches should do you fine. If you can hold her while I work?" She bounces the little girl on her hip a few times. She reaches out for Eddie and he laughs. Steve laughs too, but goes to grab the first aid kit.
He holds the little girl, Daisy, as her mom, Lilly, cleans the cut in Eddie's hair and gets the needle threaded.
"How do you know how to do that?" Steve asks, making a face at Daisy, sending her giggling again before looking back to her mom. Eddie has his fingers wrapped around Steve's ankle, his fingers tapping nervously.
"Oh my mama taught me. I helped patch up my brother and my daddy lots of times." She smiles at the memories, moves her hand to Eddie's shoulder.
"You ready hon? It's not gonna feel very nice." Eddie sniffles. Steve lowers himself and Daisy to the ground, presses his thigh into Eddie's and grabs his hand with his free one. Eddie looks at him, eyes wide. Steve nods. Eddie nods back.
"Ready."
She works fast. Gives him three instead of two just to be safe. Eddie had squeezed Steve's hand so hard he thought he might break it. But he hadn't made a sound. And when he let go, Steve missed his hand, clinging to him.
Lilly offers to give Eddie a ride home. Apparently they're neighbors. She lives a few trailers down from him and his uncle. He accepts, gratefully. "Thank you's" dripping freely from his mouth as he follows her out to her car. Steve a few paces behind them. Eddie stops before he gets in, looks at Steve, his face doing something funny.
And then he's jogging the few paces back to Steve and pulling him in for a hug.
"Seriously man. Thank you. Thought I was a gonner there for a minute." He breaths the words into Steve's shoulder, squeezes him tight. Lingers too long. Eddie pulls back and he's pink to the tips of his ears. He glances at Steve as he pulls away, grimaces, and mutters,
"Sorry." And ducks hurriedly into the car. They're gone before Steve can correct him. That he doesn't need to be sorry. That Steve understands. He's like that too.
~°~
They don't mention it again. Not at school. Not at the boathouse. Not in the upside down. Neither one of them says a thing about it.
Until Eddie wakes up in the hospital. He's covered in bandages and Steve Harrington is sitting in the chair next to his uncle looking concerned. The same look he'd had at the pool that day after he'd breathed life back into Eddie. His scars look healed. Ish. Lot of time must have passed.
After Wayne stops hugging him and Steve is settled close, his hand in Eddie's, squeezing tight. Eddie sighs around a smile and says,
"Saved me again didn't you?"
And Steve laughs, can't help it. But he cries too, and nods, and bites his lip as he leans closer to Eddie, like he needs to be closer, to be next to Eddie. And that's... something. Eddie tilts his head against his pillow, looks at Steve.
"Let's not make it a habit okay? I kind of hate doing it." Steve says, his head falling to rest against Eddie's hand.
"Sorry. Had to keep those bats away from Dusty. And hey,"
He wiggles his wrist so Steve's head jostles and lifts, his eyes on Eddie's face now, cheeks wet.
"I figured you'd come save me. Worked the last time." Eddie shrugs, grimaces at the pain in his body. Steve shakes his head, but his eyes are fond.
"Yeah well, I didn't have Lilly this time, so the stiches look like shit." He sniffles, and Eddie laughs, deep in his chest, immediately regrets it and grimaces. And that's apparently all Steve can take, he takes a watery breath and climbs up into the bed next to Eddie. It's a tight squeeze but neither of them care. Wayne laughs, pats Eddie's ankle and tells him he's gonna go get some food.
Steve nuzzles into his neck best he can without hitting any bandages, wraps his arms genlty across Eddie's stomach and holds him.
"Seriously man. Don't make me do it again. Please." Steve begs, rubs his wet cheek against Eddie's shoulder.
"But Steven," Eddie sighs, not able to keep from joking, the seriousness of it all about to choke him. Steve tilts his head, listening.
"How else am I supposed to get you to kiss me?" He whispers it, knows it's okay now, to say it to Steve, to feel that for Steve. Steve laughs into his shoulder, shakes his head.
"Just fucking ask me man." He sniffles, presses his forehead to Eddie's shoulder, hard, his fingers moving to tangle with Eddies.
"Hey Steve?" Eddie asks, his voice still a whisper.
"Yeah Eddie?" Steve whispers back. Eddie smiles, waits for Steve to get impatient. It doesn't take long. He pushes himself up onto his hand to look down at Eddie.
"What?" He asks, brow furrowed.
"Kiss me?" Eddie's own brow furrows even as Steve smiles down at him, closes the distance quickly, brushes his nose against Eddie's.
"Anytime you want." Steve breathes into his mouth. Eddie hums, moves his lips gently against Steve's and feels him sigh into it when he feels Eddie kissing him back.
They fall alseep next to each other. Wayne only waking them when the doctor is on his way in. Steve rolls out of the bed and sits in his chair. Keeping his eyes on Eddie.
And when Eddie glances at Steve, gives him a silly little smile, Steve thinks back to the pool, and the way Eddie would glance at him then, trying not to get caught while everyone else would leer openly at him. His heart flutters in his chest when Eddie crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue, so grateful to his past self for becoming a lifeguard.
He'd saved a few people over the years. But he's pretty sure he was sent there to save Eddie Munson. To keep him alive. Because as he sat there, watching Eddie joke with the nurses about how metal his scars would be, Steve was pretty sure Eddie Munson may have saved him too.
Or might save him later.
Or was saving him now.
Either way, the way Eddie's fingers find his on the hospital bed, twitching into his and making them both smile. Steve knows it was worth it, all of it, just to see that smile.
#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie blurb#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#my writing#mine#my fic#fates endless inkwell#fei
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Girl, You Really Got Me Goin’; Steve Harrington x reader
Part 1/6: Five times you and Steve get ✨ interrupted ✨ in public and one time you don’t (5+1)
You took a moment to do the same, admiring the way the soft strands of hair fell into his eyes from where your hands had raked through it, his sweater crumpled and dishevelled from you pulling at it, his pupils slightly blown and eyes glassy like he was high and fuck, he felt like he was.
You weren’t sure what brought you back to reality first - the cold press of the glass mirror against your back, the cool ceramic of the sink beneath you or the thump of the hand soap as it hit the ground.
Your legs were wrapped tightly around Steve’s waist, rough denim and the soft leather of his belt brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs driving you crazy.
His mouth was warm on your neck, his fingers pulling at the thin straps of your top until your shoulder was bare, open mouthed kisses pressed across the smooth curve and up your neck until you could feel him panting against your ear.
Your hand was fisted in the front of his sweater, knuckles white as you pulled him impossibly closer, wanting to feel every inch of his body up against yours.
Steve had one hand pressed to the mirror that hung on the wall behind you, caging you in as the other held you by the waist. His fingers teased at the hem of your shirt, fingertips gliding over your skin before an impatient moan from you sent his whole palm sliding straight under, fingers splayed against the curve of your ribs, thumb pushing at the lacy edge of your bra.
“You locked the door, right?” You breathed out, hands gripping his face to bring his mouth back up to yours. You felt him smile against your lips, your tongue tracing along the seam of his before sliding in. He cursed into your open mouth, the hand on your waist dropping to your hip and pulling until you were flush against him and you could feel the hard length of him pressing right where you needed him.
“Fuck. Yeah. I mean, I think so. Fuck,” He rambled unconvincingly into the line of your jaw, breaking the kiss just long enough to catch his breath.
“Steve!” You half-yelled, pushing at his chest until he took a step back, and you missed him and his touch and his heat instantly. “There are kids out there - our kids!”
Steve grinned wide at “our kids”, the idea that you’d also adopted Dustin and the rest of the rag-tag ensemble making his heart swell a little in his chest.
“Steve?” You repeated, exasperated, drawing his attention back as he blinked his eyes into focus. “For the love of God, can you go make sure the damn door is locked?”
“Right. Shit. Sorry. Got it.” He made for the door of the bathroom that separated you both from the chaos of the arcade outside, turning the old metal lock until it clicked into place before spinning back around to face you.
He stood for a minute, back leaning against the door as he took the sight of you in - propped up on the sink, all long legs and messy hair, flushed cheeks and kiss-bitten lips and eyes that always felt like they were looking straight into his fucking soul.
You took a moment to do the same, admiring the way the soft strands of hair fell into his eyes from where your hands had raked through it, his sweater crumpled and dishevelled from you pulling at it, his pupils slightly blown and eyes glassy like he was high and fuck, he felt like he was.
“Well, what are you waiting for, Harrington? Get back over here and finish what you started.”
You pressed both hands down onto the edge of the sink he had balanced you on, shifting your hips impatiently and he was back on you in seconds. He dropped slightly in front of you and you made an almost embarrassingly desperate noise as his knees bent and his hands slipped beneath the floaty cotton skirt that skimmed at your thighs until he reached the band of your underwear. He gripped the lace-trimmed elastic, standing back up straight as he did so until he was looking you in the eyes and slipping them down your thighs. When they passed your knees, he let go and the fabric dropped to your ankles, but you caught them around your foot. You slid that same leg back up his side until your knee nudged him in the ribs, your bottom lip pulled mischievously between your teeth and he reached down to take them from where they hung around your ankle.
“You’re so fucking good to me, you know that?” He drawled, leaning into you with one hand pressing back into the mirror beside your head like before, his voice thick and heavy like honey against your ear as he pushed the fabric into the back pocket of his jeans.
“Mhm,” Was all you could manage as you kept your bottom lip between your teeth, desperate to hide how it trembled with anticipation.
Your chest was heaving, the straps of your top now hanging loose from your shoulders and the soft swell of your breasts rose and fell with every breath. His gaze fixated on the sight for a moment before his hand slid up your waist and over your chest until he was palming you over the thin fabric. Your head fell back against the mirror with a groan, eyes falling shut as he dropped his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking until your skin felt like it was alight and your thighs tightened around his waist.
“Steve, baby, fuck…”
Your hands fell from where they been gripping at his shoulders and landed on his belt buckle, fumbling with the metal until it fell open and loose. You made quick work of the button and zipper, and when you reached beneath the denim and past the soft fabric of his boxers, Steve’s hand that was still bracing himself against the mirror curled into a fist as he cursed into your mouth.
You were barely touching him, the movement of your hand restricted by the tightness of his jeans but he still drove his hips forward into your grasp, the soft skin of your palm and the back and forth motion of your thumb causing his grip on you to tighten.
“Jesus Christ, fuck. Yeah, keep doing that. Please-”
“Get these off and I’ll do something even better,” You promised against his lips and he groaned, his tongue pushing deeper in your mouth - dirty and desperate and your head was spinning as you threaded your fingers back into his hair with a tug.
Steve managed to pull his hands from you from long enough to fumble with his jeans, but a sudden bang on the door made you both jump and you almost fell into the sink, head bumping off the mirror behind you.
“Ow!“ You yelped, and Steve snaked one arm around your waist to keep you upright.
“Steve! Dude, are you in there?”
Dustin.
“That little shit has impeccable timing.” Steve mumbled, eyes rolling before they fell closed in disappointment and his forehead came to rest against yours.
“You know,” Dustin all but sing-songed. “You and your little girlfriend aren’t as smooth as you think you are.”
Your eyes widened, hand clamped over your mouth to stop the audible sound of shame.
“Yeah, yeah, alright, Sherlock.” Steve called out to him, stepping back to help you hop down from the sink.
A moment later, there was a second pounding on the door followed by Lucas’s voice.
“We’re hungry. We wanna go for pizza. Let’s go, Harrington!”
“Alright alright, Jesus!”
Steve watched as you finished fixing your skirt and adjusting your straps, before straightening his sweater for him where it was twisted out of place.
You stepped towards him, one arm snaking underneath his and for a second he thought you were gonna pull him into a hug. Instead, you pushed your underwear that was hanging out of his back pocket deeper and out of sight. He grinned down at you, cursing under his breath as you leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his slightly parted lips.
“Let’s go, Harrington. Our kids are waiting.”
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fluff#stranger things
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I am always always thinking about different scenarios where Eddie could have gotten mixed up in The Mess (tm), and I just think that season 2 would have been great for that
tw: reference to kidnapping and child murder
Hawkins has always been a weird fuckin’ place, even before the Byers kid went missing last year. Eddie’s never really been able to put his finger on what it is, but he sees it on the periphery of everything Hawkins touches. It’s not something you can see if you look at it head on, like a migraine aura or one of those floaty things you get in your eyes sometimes.
A couple of days after Halloween, though, Eddie plummets headfirst into the weird that makes the town of Hawkins churn.
He’s skipping school, because O’Donnell has it out for him, swear to god, and he’s flying up a back road on the outskirts of town when the weird comes striding out of the woods to his right.
It’s a fucking kid, and he’s driving too fucking fast to be able to stop in time but he slams hard on the brakes of his van anyway. The back fishtails and the brakes screech and the air smells like burning rubber, but he comes to a halt, and he didn’t feel the sickening thump-thump that he’s been bracing for. His heart is in his fucking throat, his head pounding, hands sweating, and he is trembling from head to toe.
Eddie launches himself out of the driver’s seat. The kid - the girl, middle school aged, curly hair that falls just to her ears, flannel and jeans - is standing there with her hand out toward the van. She’s posed like a comic book superhero, feet planted, shoulders back, and… her nose is bleeding. The van’s grille is dented like… Eddie can’t even bring himself to think about it. It’s like she stopped the fuckin’ thing with her mind ro some shit.
He definitely needs to cool it on the weed.
Eddie scrambles for something to say, but all he can come up with is a choked out, “Holy shit, kid.”
And that’s how he ends up with ‘Jane’ in the passenger seat of his van. That’s not her real name. Eddie’s not sure how he knows it but he knows it. She says she’s going to see her mother, and Eddie’s not good with silence so he tries to ask her questions, make conversation. She does what she can, but her grasp of language isn’t… great, and Eddie finds himself trying to fill in the blanks and coming up short.
He thinks she must be a runaway who's finally grown tired of not being home. She’s clean, though, and she looks fed, but she looks like she doesn’t sleep all that much, and Eddie wonders what it was about her home life that made her run in the first place. And the further and further they get outside of Hawkins, the more he wonders how she ended up in his little town anyway.
“Hey, kid, uh,” Eddie begins, unsure how to even say what he’s thinking. “You’re not, like, a kidnapping victim or anything, are you? You didn’t escape from, like…” At the word escape, Jane draws in an anxious breath.
Eddie hears about it in the news sometimes, about kids that are snatched and murdered and the awful, awful things people do to them. He remembers Adam Walsh in eighty one.
“Kid, are you safe?”
“I am safe,” says the girl, but she doesn’t seem so sure.
When they pull up in front of the little house, the last name Ives painted in swooping curls on the mailbox, Eddie puts the van in park and shuts it off.
“I should probably, uh, talk to an adult,” he says. “This is very weird, Jane, and I just want to make sure, uh…”
He doesn’t know what he wants to make sure. Make sure he’s not dropping this kid off into a death trap? Make sure there’s an actual human person behind the door of this house, and that that person isn’t some weirdo who wants to hurt the kid he almost ran over with his van? If she’s just a runaway, though, pulling up at home alongside an eighteen year old boy with long hair that smells like weed will just get the cops called on him.
“No,” Jane says when Eddie unbuckles his seatbelt. “It is okay. You do not have to come with me. Thank you for the ride.”
It might be the most she’s said at one time, the whole way over here. The urgency in her voice just makes Eddie even more anxious to leave her.
“I really, really should. There’s some sketchy people out there, okay? I just need to make sure this is someplace safe for you.”
Why the fuck does he even care? She’s just some weird kid that he almost hit with his van on the outskirts of his very weird town. He might as well just drop her here and go, get the hell out of dodge and away from whatever brand of weird he’s just stumbled his way into.
But if he sees this kid’s face on the news in two days, Eddie will never fucking forgive himself.
“Wait here, then,” Jane says. “And once I go inside, you can go. This is a safe place. My mother is inside. Please.”
“Fine. Fine. Go ahead, then.”
She goes. She’s walking slow up to the house, like she’s nervous too, and it makes Eddie all the more uneasy about letting her walk away.
She knocks (at her own house?) and then there’s a woman behind the door. There’s no recognition in the woman’s expression, and she closes the door in Jane’s face again. And just as Eddie is about to get out of the van and go up there, Jane puts her arm out toward the door, just like she’d done with his van, and the door swings inward.
What. The fuck.
He must be hallucinating. Right? The woman who answered the door before must have just opened it back up again. Right? Because that’s not possible. Magic isn’t real. This is real life. …Right?
Eddie sits there, trying to make sense of what he’s just seen, but he convinces himself he must have just been seeing things wrong. It must have been someone inside the house opening the door for Jane.
And if that's not the case? If this kid has magic fucking powers, if she can stop Eddie's van and open up the front door of a house she is clearly not welcome in, why shouldn't he want to fucking hightail it in the other direction? He's no hero. This isn't a Hellfire campaign. Maybe Jane isn't the one that's in danger, here. Maybe Jane is the dangerous one.
Eddie goes, but after about five minutes his paranoia and worry for this little kid gets the better of him, and he turns around.
He’s just gonna drive past, just circle the block to see if everything looks okay. One more time won’t hurt. Maybe he got a fucked up bag of weed, making him more paranoid than usual, but Hawkins is a weird goddamn place, and this doesn’t seem like your usual run of the mill kind of weird. It feels a little dark, a little sinister.
That girl had a bloody nose when Eddie got out of his van. The grille did not look like that this morning when he left the trailer. (Did it?) The way she talks, the body language, the way she really stood there and faced down Eddie’s van with her hand out like she knew she would be able to stop it. It’s weird. And if nothing else, now Eddie’s a little bit fucking curious, okay?
So he circles the block where the Ives house sits, and as he drives past, the fucking lights in the front room are flickering.
So he sits. And he waits. And it’s dark outside by the time the front door swings open again and fucking Jane comes striding out clutching a wad of cash in her fist. What the fuck. She spots Eddie and glares at him, but then she wrenches open the passenger side door and gets in.
“Drive,” she says, and Eddie does. “We’re going to Chicago.”
#this got a little long??#sorry??#i've been thinking about this concept all week tho#eddie#el hopper#bee's blurbs#eddie and el would end up being besties much to hoppers absolute horror
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Popsicle - E.M. Drabble
18+ minors DNI
Warnings: Steve and Eddie are kind of douchey (Just a little bit), talk of oral sex (both f and m receiving), premature ejaculation, cumming without touching, graphic depiction of reader blowing a popsicle.
A/N: I'm really trying to write more lately. I'm really struggling tho. Like my mental health is so bad right now. I've cried twice today, and Eddie makes my brain happy so were rolling with it...
Full disclosure: You're not sober. Maybe that's why Eddie looked so good lounging on Steve's couch. His jacket slung to the side, shoes by the entryway, he looked so good like this. So casual. Especially when he too was not sober. But you were on the come down. The floaty feeling fading to a sleepy, calmer feeling.
And now you were lounging across a separate chair listening on and off to conversation. Robin flopped across you a while ago and now you were subject to the comfort of her weight on top of you as you rub her back.
"Hey," Steve calls, rousing you both a enough for Robin to turn he face on to the other side. Cheek plastered against a new breast now.
"Wassup?" Robin hums as you brush more hair out of her face. But when you look at Steve, he's staring at you. And so is Eddie.
"Answer honestly, have you given head?" It makes you sigh and roll your eyes.
"Why?"
"There's a follow up question."
"What's the follow up question?"
"It depends on you answer here."
"Are you going to use it for nefarious acts later?"
"No, no I'm not. Well maybe when I go on my next date?" Steve questions. "You always say a quality of a good lover is curiosity."
"What?" Eddie hums. "What does that mean?"
"Yes, I've given head." You reply and both of them swivel back to you.
"I don't believe that," Eddie scoffs you adjust beneath Robin, propping yourself up.
"What's the next question?"
"Have you gotten head?" You pass them both an amused grin. Like that was funny.
"You're definitely gonna be up to nefarious purposes later." Then bite your lip and nod lazily.
"Would you say your experiences of getting head are better or worse than giving?" You shrug.
"When I have to say I prefer giving rather than receive it's because the bar is on the floor. But I've got a wicked mouth." Eddie's eyes fly wide.
You were the perk when it came to chilling at Steve's when his parents weren't home. He'd had a long-fledged crush on you. The cheerleader. The pretty girl who was all sugar and cinnamon spice. You were too sweet, too innocent to be as 'wicked' as you claimed.
"How do you know you're not just... underwhelming too."
"Do you cum when you get head?" You reply with a glance.
"Yeah, usually."
"Our point is girls tend to not be great at head either."
"Oh boohoo," you hum to Eddie, finally irritated with him. "You get a bad blowjob?" He rolls his eyes back at you.
"There's no such thing as a bad blowjob. But there's a difference between a blowjob and a great blowjob. Just because you have shitty taste in men doesn't mean I'm criminal for thinking 'blowjob' is better than 'no blowjob'."
"Yeah, but how's your head game?" Eddie grins maliciously at you.
"Better than yours."
"Wanna test that theory?" You hum back.
The room stills at the request, gets stuffy with excitement. Eddie just lifts his eyebrows and grins. "I did just say there's only one option with that question."
"Sit tight," you taunt him and tap Robin's arm. She whines and rolls deeper into the couch to allow you to exit.
"Holy shit," Eddie breathes and fixes Steve with a shocked look. "There's no way, right?"
"Where are you going?" Steve calls only to have to reappear from his kitchen with a popsicle moments later. It makes Eddie deflate greatly.
"Well, this is far less exciting than what I had in mind," Eddie snorts. You hold it out to him. He frowns and reaches out for it. And then you're kneeling in front of him and using a scrunchy to draw your hair back. "What?" He squeaks.
"I don't do half ass. Hold it for men, pup."
"How?" He prompts.
"Hold it like it's your dick, come on." He watches as you wiggle into position so unabashedly and thinks he might actually love you.
"Alright, I'll bite."
So, he leans back, propping the popsicle between to his widening legs. He finds your rolling eyes are far cuter when you're on your knees. And then you're pushing forward, lapping slowly from base to tip. Eddie's breath hitches when you drag your tongue across his knuckles on the way.
You reach to the side as your rising to position and it takes him a second realize your dragging his hand to cup the back of your head. "Oh, shit," Steve breathes and Eddie shoots him a wild look and then drops his gaze to where your lips are brushing his knuckles... all the way around his index and thumb. He doesn't have to see to know you've already dragged the end into the back of your throat.
Your eyes are on him as you hold the popsicle there for longer than he's ever seen someone hold it. You're pulling off him - the popsicle, you're pulling off the popsicle. But fuck the way you're maintaining that stare and Eddie let's his eyes roll up as pleads for his erection to sink away.
He adjusts, trying to use his hand to block the very obvious sight in his suddenly-too-tight jeans.
Eddie tests the hand in your hair, tightening at the root before applying pressure. "Fuck," he mutters when you automatically cave to it. And then he's gently pulling you on and off the popsicle. Your face softened in relief; your eyes fluttering shut like you'd been waiting all day for this very thing.
Eddie can't believe it. Can't believe that you, someone with such a stellar and well-read reputation likes blowjobs. Everytime he's going to rub one out, this is exactly what he's going to think of. The way the melted popsicle is dripping down your throat, spit and juice is all over Eddie's jeans as you slurp.
Your hands smooth over his thighs and he shivers. Your mouth stained red, juice dripping down your face. "Fuck." He can practically feel your mouth on his cock already and can't help it. You start moaning and it's too late. "OH FUCK!" He jerks you right off and the popsicle tumbles to the floor as he grabs his crotch and holds it through the orgasm bulldozing him.
"Did you just cum, Eddie?" You grin up at him, like the fucking minx you are.
"Oh god, I'm leaving." With a groan Robin hauls herself towards Steve's kitchen.
"See," you offer. "Didn't even touch your dick." Eddie glowers down at you. He bets that if Harrington wasn't in the room, you'd be more than happy to clean him up with the bright-eyed enjoyment on your face. What right did you have looking like you just had the best time making him cream his jeans.
"Go wipe your face," he groans. You preen at that comment he sees with the way you shiver and then you climb to your feet.
"Did I win?" You ask Steve as you pass him on the way to the kitchen to grab a rag.
"Yeah, I, uh, think so," Steve mutters quietly, passing Eddie an awkward glance. Eddie watches you step back in a moment later, pride etched into your face. He's shell shocked still.
"You okay?" You murmur as you approach, wiping your face in the process.
"Yeah," Eddie sighs, mortification setting in at the fact that you had witnessed such a sight. How embaressing.
Your demenor has gone back to your normal mother-henning and your right back to standing in front of him. "You sure, Eddie?" There's no hint of teasing in your voice as you brush a hand over his shoulder. He sends you a weak glare. He wasn't a child, even if he felt like it.
"I'm fine." It has you passing him an amused smile.
"Let's go clean up our mess then, hm?" And you hold out a hand for him.
#eddie munson x you#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#stranger things#eddie munson fics#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson smut
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le-june-aire 6, phantom girl! definitely one of my wilder changes... i hope u like my thoughts on her
ghost! alien! ghost alien! i wanted to make her look like a ghost alien!
her whacky eyes and teeth i pushed all the way into nightmare before christmas ish territory, because i think it's a fun way to make her look ghostly without doing anything any more literal (i can't give her jacob marley chains, or make her translucent...i COULD have given her a little...tail...leg..thing..like danny phantom...but i didn't)
i played around with those little hair clips she has sometimes, and i made them into horns to push her away from being a Differently Colored In Human. the crazy eyes are very busy, so i wanted to keep her face as simple as possible, making it all one flat shape. also, i think i'm cute and i made her face look a bit like the iconography of the phantom's mask. because phantom.
normal hair would look a little weird to me attached to all that i changed for the face and head, so i gave her that floaty smoke to imply her hair instead.
the pzh middle-of-body stripes stay, because i like them, and a simple implication of that little bar logo she has sometimes tops it off. also borrowed from pzh is that full-body white cape, which just makes the coolest poses. combined with my cartoony ways, it makes her into a very pose-able little ghosty, which is so much fun to draw. the hair acting more like smoke than hair complements that, i hope!
overall, i just wanted to make her look like a ghost alien you guys. but i also wanted to make her look friendly and cute, because...tinya is pretty friendly and cute! those two goals are very fun to try and find a compromise for, and this is definitely one of my fave legionnaire designs
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(Credits to the artist if you find them please tell me)
Marionetta
Albedo and YN are both non human creatures, albedo being an Homonculus and You being doll bringed to life (you can take Gowther from 7deadly sins as an example) you are an experiment by Lisa and Jean who desperately wanted a child , since you're seen as abnormal you where gifted an electro vision , you have ashy blond hair and deep green eyes
He was really curious
Maybe a bit too curious
The Homonculus had already tried everything to get his shy doll to reveal his body so he could understand how your body would function
So now it was time for his final subtle try , as he thought. In fact he was never really subtle especially since the little klee would tell you everything finding it funny to play the matchmaker between her two best friend in the world. So you played the game and finally caved in .
Albedo had invited you and klee to a pond in this hot summer day to play in the water and swim . But klee had told you everything! So to tease a bit the scientists you decided that the best thing to do would be to wear your swimsuit AND a shirt
Giving the blond an adorable pouting face not understanding why his plan would always fail
Albedo: ...you should take off your shirt its gonna get wet
Yn: shouldn't you swim too ?
You knew his reason but it was so funny to tease him
Albedo: ..no , i-i want to draw this tree first !
Yn: then we can draw with you in the meanwhile
Albedo: b-but kle-
Klee: he ! Don't worry I got my floaties that mommy gave me ! So I can swim alone like a big girl !
The alchemist was defeated and his despair he took you by the shirt only being a centimeter or two more than you
Albedo: y-youre driving me crazy !! Come on let me see how your body work !!
He was softly shaking you while you ended up laughing and hugged him
Yn: aaaah you're too funny ! You could've just ask you know ? I am more than happy to steal your attention
The poor blue eyed scientists was completely red ashamed of his kid like behavior
Albedo: noooo it's not funnyyyy
Yn: what do you want to know about my body ?
Albedo: ..can I do a full check up of your physical reaction , heat , and sensitivity please ?
Yn: sure have fun !
And as you where taking off your shirt he seemed to gain some red , since when did his interest in your body function made him so ...clumsy ? Anyways he needed to focus ! So he did ...half did . As he was checking your working reflex his hand wandered on your thighs curious if they where as sensitive and..giving a look to your red face made him abruptly stop
Albedo: l-lets end the experiment here for today ..i-i don't want to overheat my subject
The poor boy was caught off gard by this new reaction so much that after that he ran away so read that some monstad people started rumors about the strange behavior of their hermit
#gay#mlm relationship#x male reader#male insert#reader insert#albedo#male reader x albedo#reader x albedo#genshin fanfic#genshin impact#fluff
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mysterion design >:D
notes under the cut
-i'm imagining for this au everyone's middle school aged, so still like, kids, just a bit older
-ignore the fact that i fucked up the colors on all the text i SHOULD have had the colors shift between lines it helps legibility but i didn't fsr??? i'll figure that out in later art dw
-GOD THESE COLORS TOOK FOREVER the og colors are SUPER desaturated and also more on the pink side of purple but I prefer to use saturated colors and wanted to go more towards the blue side of purple (than the colors are closer to complimentary colors between mysterion and kenny)
-ended up going with a very soft look (rounded edges and ovals and softer lines) i was thinkng off of the batman inspo actually and thinking about that scene in the lego batman movie where the brick notes batmans design isn't very hero looking, i mean it is by western standards but like when i think of a good hero and symbol of justice and hope i think of twintaild magical girls with ultra frilly skirts and cute mascots and sparkles and stars everywhere but like.. i'm biased.... anyway I chose the softer lines to make him feel softer and instead relied any edgy vibes on the colors and body language rather than the shapes (i mean i still used triangles but yeah)
-I ended up not going with brown boots cause i didn't want to have to tie in another color, and i had the epic idea of the little question mark symbols on the soles of the shoes and the m logo on the ... toungue i think it's called?
-so I originally wasn't gonna show his hair but I thought it would help to balance the colors more as the white shorts felt too bright
-i didn't plan to post this or else i would've tried to better phrase all the writing lmao
-i went with rounded feet to make him feel like, floaty?
-one smaller challenge was keeping a short stature for kenny while still making him look like, menancing and powerful, another reason why i went with the graceful floaty feet, I also had the shorts flair out with that triangle shape like they do to emphasize and blend together the general shape of the body
-miiight have accidentally made him more androgynous~ my ass spent years studying and learning how to make characters appear masculine than said 'yeah no thankyou everyone is going to be at least a LITTLE bit pretty <3'
-ah look how nice and not over crowded the doodles are... yeah say goodbye to empty space cause Cartman/theCoon's completely lacks it. I like drawing fluffy animal ears and found the need to label all the drawings "furry" or "menance" so yeah
-i'm that one bitch that says fuck canon even canon doesn't give a shit bout canon so why should i? and never draws kenny with blue eyes, always either light brown or preferrable purple. mostly cause i feel blue + blonde is too basic and I find that the purple makes for a nicer contrast and overall pallete. Cause brown kinda just blends in, cause then his entire color scheme is all within the same hue range, but purple sticks out better + leaning into the magenta side of it looks great with orange
-petition for the southpark fan wiki to acknowledge how fuckign similar Mysterion and the mysterious mare do well are
-funfacts!! considered having the buckles be silver instead of gold (changed to balance with the blonde hair and tie back in the orange/yellow hues) considered having the inside of the cape be a lighter shade of purple either pulling in more pink or blue tinted shades, changed cause it made the overall color scheme to bright
-in case you were wondering 90% of my art has the same stupid level of thought put into it as posts i do add notes onto, I just figured most people don't want a ramble about shape launguage and colors on their silly blorbo fanart posts lmao. but if you find any of this interesting or heck if you ever have a ramble about your own art my inbox is always open~ i love getting to discuss drawing :D
#[redacted] is south park btw but i'm not giving up on the [redacted] bit so pretend you don't know this#yes this means there exists a southpark fanfic where two characters get married in hell#south park#kenny mccormick#mysterion#kyukyudraws#should i tag this tfbw? probably#sp tfbw
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A fun collab I did with my friend @minart-was-taken !
Both of us made pinterest boards for ourselves, then swapped the boards and sketched a character each based on the themes we saw. Mina sketched the green haired elf wine aunt person while I sketched the little floaty space girl. It was very fun and different from how I'm used to drawing, I'd love to do something like this again :')
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while spring is making promises outside — a flower shop AU featuring my OC Jo. Chapter 8/9. Some chapters a little NSFW.
Catch up at the link!
In July, she finds an apartment with Lena, Evie's friend. It's tiny but it's got hardwood floors and it's full of light. The walls are begging to be decorated. With entirely removable installations, of course.
Move-in day somehow turns into a gathering, with Clara and the boyfriend who's no longer a face on the screen bringing beer and a rug for the floor, and Frankie with a cooler and Tupperware for the fridge that still needs to be plugged in, and her and Bill and Joe with the boxes. There aren't many of them, which she feels something about, and maybe the next thing is hope. Fran stops by later with the baby, toddling around the plush flowers and birds of the carpet's design.
A while after they've all left, and Lena's gone to meet a classmate for coffee — in Clara's absence Jo feels obligated to raise an affectionate eyebrow — Joe comes back with a clean shirt and a bunch of dusk-colored roses in his hand.
"You need a record player," he says, switching on the radio.
She makes a face. "Don't tell me you're secretly a snob." They've gotten in play-fights over his cassettes before, the ones he still insists taking with him in the truck on long rides to events. It is possibly very annoying that the truck, old enough to still have a cassette deck, justifies him in this regard.
"I got a friend who fixes 'em up."
"Can you get me a discount?"
"You think I'd make my girl pay for her own gift?"
Her heart jumps at that, without warning. "I'm your girl?" It sounds ridiculous when she says it like that, when she doubts what's standing there in front of her putting flowers in a jar.
"You want me to prove it?"
She exhales, rolls her head back all exaggerated, and he laughs.
"You like it when I say that?"
"Stop," she laughs.
Faintly on the radio behind him there's a shimmering bassline, a drawn-out vocal. "Dance with me?" She doesn't move. "C'mon, gotta practice for the big to-do."
It's not for a couple more weeks, Bill and Fran's wedding. Joe's tux hangs in his closet, under the plastic, and her dress is still back at her old room.
"I'm proud of you," she says, nuzzling up under his chin. The words are so quiet, and only for him. He kisses her hairline in agreement.
They sway for a few moments, letting the second stretch. His voice is warm against her ear. "Ma says I'm bringing you to dinner next week or I'm not invited." She freezes a little, and he only holds her tighter. "Hey, she'll love you. I showed my sisters some of your stuff and they're fighting over who gets to hire you first." She's still trying to straighten her shoulders. "Listen," he says, "they'll love you." Because I love you. "You're my girl."
The wedding spills over with joy. The arrangements are huge, orange and red and pink, and beautiful against the ivory. Fran has a crown of roses, and a little matching headband for her daughter. Everything is summer. There's fans everywhere for the heat, cold lemonade at the VFW hall for the reception. Jo hand-lettered the signs, with line drawings of the flowers. She can't hide her smile when she overhears the compliments.
Frankie sidles up somewhere between the hors d'oeuvres and the dancing and squeezes her hand. "We did good," she says.
"Hey, I'm not the genius visionary."
Frankie rolls her eyes, but it's full of affection. "Talent can only get you so far." She's smiling, blonde curls escaping her messy bun. Her voice goes soft after a minute, and low. "It was never about charity, you know that right?"
Jo's surprised to hear the tightness in her own voice. "Yeah."
Bill gets in his I told ya so's about 47 times while they're dancing. Her dress is stuck to the small of her back, the floaty chiffon printed with watercolor flowers, and her hair curls around her ears. Joe tells her she's beautiful; she's happy just to feel like a person, someone here in their body, taking up space.
At some point they all kick off their shoes on the floor. It's all the old hits, the ones that get the grandparents dancing and the ones that make the twenty-somethings reminisce. Somewhere between Frankie Valli and Edwin McCain, he pulls her even closer. She's pressed against his chest, the dress shirt he's pushed up to his elbows.
"I think I love you," she murmurs, quiet enough for only him to hear. It still shakes a little, bare. She can feel the way his hold goes even more tender around her.
"That's good," he says. "Because I'm building you a desk."
"You're what?"
"You'll see it when you're over this weekend." They're not so much dancing anymore as him pulling her along, still caught on what he'd said. He kisses her, when he doesn't hear her say anything. Her nose brushes against the medallion half-hidden under his shirt. "And I love you too." The song ends, but they don't break apart. "You think I woulda hung around that much if I didn't?"
#shoshi writes#jo's tag#while spring is making promises outside#almost theeeere#that moment when you're formatting and joe gets in another line#what is in the lemonade at this wedding that we're being so clear with our feelings#shoshi's au problem
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drowning
— herrscher of sentience x fu hua
genre : smut
kinks : vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, sex toys, threesome, oral sex, blow jobs, overstimulation, edging
wordcount : 4,308
summary : "I heard MANTISes in their prime could take many Herrschers at once, old timer."
or, Hua gets sandwiched by two Sentis.
Sweat and slick.
She tastes salt on her lips, searing hot and almost uncomfortably sharp as Senti expertly works her fingers into her again. It’s too hot in the room, and the windows have long fogged over from the feverish temperature.
But Senti still won’t stop.
She mouths along Hua’s pelvis, grazing her teeth over her jutting hip bone and the flesh of her thighs, teasingly soft, almost too gentle when she crooks her fingers up, and hits her sweet spot without warning.
“Xiǎo shí,” she gasps, fingers scrambling over the curve of her shoulders, the warm hands cradling her wrist. Her thoughts scramble with every pump of her fingers inside, and whatever she was about to say is lost in the haze of pleasure. “Oh God. Oh, my God.”
Senti leans up and swallows her moans with her lips, in between the shallow hickeys her clone leaves over the length of Hua’s neck. She’s everywhere, all at once: playing with her breasts, caressing her hips, deep inside her. She feels as if spiraling out of control, falling madly without escape from the two bodies trapping her in between.
“Please,” she manages to mumble after they part. Through half-lidded eyes, she sees Senti watching her, a smirk dripping from her lips. So close, she can see her reflection in her scarlet irises, all messed up and flushed, tears staining her shivering skin. She looks pitiful, really, but Senti cups her cheek – no, it’s the other one – no –
A flash of electricity passes through her skin. Hua squeezes her hand and throws her head back, crying, trembling as Senti flicks her clit with her thumb, circling the nub as Hua instinctively chased that approaching high end, rocking her hips with against those slender fingers. She feels so warm and languid, floaty; detached from reality.
“Old timer . . .” She looks up. Someone kisses her. She doesn’t know which one. But the taste of mint and candy lingers, the taste of salt. Senti’s clone’s eyes are red and sinful, and she raises their entwined hands to press a kiss against Hua’s knuckles.
What a charming, devilish smile.
A kiss against her inner thigh. Hua mewls when she feels a warm tongue lap against her clit, even as Senti pushes her fingers harder in. It’s an erotic sight, her between her legs, that hint of a smile, and her own juices staining her lips whenever she pulls away to suck possessive marks all over her thighs.
She’s near. She’s been so near for so long. It’s almost unbearable, but Senti always likes to take her time with these kinds of things. Drawing her in, and pulling away, uncharacteristically patient in watching Hua fall apart beneath her hands.
“Xiǎo shí,” she whines again, hooking her legs over her neck. “Please. Please, please, please.”
“Please what?” The clone clips her chin in her fingers and kisses her, for once finally stopping her assault on Hua’s breasts. But it doesn’t last, and Hua finds herself holding onto her clothes, panting and sobbing into her neck as Senti crooks her fingers just right. Hua can’t help but squeeze her thighs around her neck, desperately grinding her core against Senti’s face.
Fingers on her hair, combing gently. She sobs. “Please. I’m close, xiǎo shí. God, I’m –”
Lightheaded. She feels so lightheaded. Hua chokes on a groan as Senti sucks on her clit, arching her back as the girl coaxes her up the incline. It feels frazzling. Too much. Her toes curl, and she tugs on the clone’s shirt and returns her kisses like she will never breathe again. She tastes just the same as the real one, and her lips are just as warm and soft as Senti’s lips. She says something, something lascivious; there’s a smirk on her lips, but Hua can’t focus anymore.
Sparks fly. The pressure between her legs hits a peak, and everything dissolves into pleasure.
She finds herself clinging tightly onto the clone’s clothes, trembling as the world comes into focus around her. Words in her ear, some comforting nonsense that glide along her skin like the soft kisses pressed over her thighs and stomach. It feels almost ticklish.
The clone cups her cheek, and for a breathless moment, rests her thumb on her lips, and does nothing more. Her eyes are sharp and intense, redder than the burning sun, dazzling like a bejeweled kaleidoscope, stealing her breath with every warm exhale tickling her cheeks.
She leans forward, and kisses her lips.
Just like Senti. She really tastes just like the original. Hua sighs into the kiss, melting into her arms as she parts her lips to let her in.
She is so sweet today. The one that takes her slowly, gently, fingers fluttering over her body like fragile glass. Her kiss is soft and slow, heady, like slow-falling honey treading through her veins. And sweet.
She tastes so sweet. Too sweet. Hua leans in again, and tastes her candy on her tongue.
“Senti . . .” she murmurs, and nuzzles her cheek against her palm.
“Hey! Don’t forget about me!”
A sharp sting of pain on her thighs. Hua jumps in surprise, but it’s only her Xiǎo Shí, pouting up at her from between her legs. She looks a bit funny like that, with her cheeks puffed up and her head poking out from between her legs. Cute. Cute. Cute. Hua breathes out a tired laugh, and cups her cheeks in her hands.
“It’s impossible to forget about you, xiǎo shí.”
But her Xiǎo Shí isn’t so satisfied with just this. She surges forward, forcing Hua to bend into half between the two of them as she captures her lips for a breathtaking kiss. Her thighs ache, and the scratch of Senti’s jeans against her raw skin. Her zipper catches, and Hua groans against her lips as she is hoisted up against the clone’s chest.
Senti nips at her lip, and smiles smugly down at her. Her cheeks are flushed.
“Love you,” she mumbles.
Hua laughs breathlessly, and tugs her down for another kiss. “I love you, too.”
With one smooth motion, Xiǎo Shí has already seated herself between her thighs again. Her clone keeps Hua’s legs up, hooked underneath her elbows. It’s an embarrassing, terrible position, and Senti uses the opportunity to stare at her puffy hole, thumbs caressing the curve of her ass.
“Senti!” she protests. “Stop staring at –!”
She leans in, and licks a stripe up her cunt. The pleasure sears painfully; she jerks up, gasping, but the clone behind her stills her with her hands gripping her legs up, laying her bare to Senti’s wandering tongue.
“Wait, wait, wait,” she pants, whimpering when Senti mouths at her oversensitive clit, shooting painful waves of pleasure through her skin. “Xiǎo shí!”
“She said wait,” the clone says, staring disapprovingly at Senti.
Senti pulls away from between her legs to scowl at her clone. Her lips sparkle with Hua’s slick and cum, and she flushes red at the sight. “I’m not dumb, you know.”
The clone makes an annoyed noise at the back of her throat. “Doesn’t seem like it.”
Aren’t they . . . the same person? Why are they fighting now?
Hua groans in embarrassment as the two bicker around her. She’s still splayed open, thighs trembling, and the slightest breeze tickles the wetness staining her thighs until she feels cold and hot and needy for Senti’s touch. It’s almost painful, being presented like this to Senti, but willfully ignored in favor of arguing with herself.
“You . . . two . . .” she grits out. “Can you . . . please stop?”
They stop, and they stare at her. She has to fight the urge to shrink at the weight of their stares, dragging over her exposed, flushed skin and the humiliating position she’s still in. Then, as if coming to a silent agreement, the two meet eyes, and Hua shivers at that wicked smile on Senti’s lips.
“Sorry.” The clone nips at her neck, mouthing over where her pulse trembles. A pathetic whimper leaves her lips as Senti descends back to her place again, but the clone distracts her with her nimble fingers, rubbing her thumb against her nipples and skillfully playing with her breasts until she feels melted under her touch. “I’ll make it up to you, old timer.”
Between her legs, Senti is gentler this time. She laps at her folds, taking care not to touch her clit; Hua suppresses a sigh, though her talented tongue coaxes it out of her lips anyway as she licks up Hua's cum from her cunt.
The pleasure is mellow, crashing over her veins like molten lava. Senti isn't trying to bring her to climax again, but between her tongue and her clone’s hands playing with her breasts, whispering praises and ghosting kisses against her ear, Hua finds herself squirming within minutes, helplessly grinding her hips against her tongue.
“There you go,” the clone murmurs. Hua squeezes her eyes close, blindly pulling at Senti’s hair as she gently leads her to another climax. “You’re doing so good.”
She crashes into shore like soft ocean foam, pleasantly drifting in a warm sea of pleasure. Senti gently draws her climax out, moaning in delight against her entrance, and the vibrations send a pleasant-painful thrum of spark through her.
Warm.
She falls back to kisses, butterfly-soft kisses peppered all over her body. Her cheeks, her shoulders, her stomach, her thighs. It’s soft, and warm – they’re both soft, and warm, and the attention is enough to make her feel drowsy and comfortable. She can almost fall asleep like this, she thinks, cradled in between them, coddled in their embraces.
But it doesn’t last as long as she would have liked it to. The clone lets her legs down, and she feels Senti lean forward. The bed creaks, their weight dips down.
“You okay?” she asks, and her eyes are so brilliantly, prettily red. Hua can lose herself in those eyes, watching the sunbeams throw reflected crimson fractals over the gold of her pupils. She yawns something like a yes, a soft nod, and Senti grins wickedly at her. “Good. ‘Cuz I’m not done yet, old timer.”
Oh.
She’s not done yet, and Hua learns what this means in five seconds.
An impish smile, the dimples on her cheeks show, and Hua finds herself blinking up at her, on her knees, a brightly-colored dildo rubbing against her cheek twice. The rug burns against her knees.
“Looks like we're outta lube,” Senti says, and smiles down at her. “Welp. Guess you gotta do something ‘bout this, huh?”
And then Senti pats the tip of the dildo against her lips, and
Oh.
Lost, Hua obediently opens up her mouth and lets her slip the toy deeper in, until it hits the back of her throat, and she recoils instinctively. Senti makes a noise in surprise, lips parted, and Hua burns in shame.
“Old timer?” she asks, tucking her hair behind her ear as she leans down. The dildo brushes past Hua’s cheek, slick with her saliva, and it feels even more embarrassing when she feels Senti’s clone drape herself over her back as well. “Are you okay? Was that too much?”
She . . . doesn’t know. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what’s okay or what’s too much, and she can’t even bring herself to look at Senti in the eyes. Both of them. Hua groans.
She’s never done this before! How is she supposed to know . . .
“Old timer, hey, we don’t have to –“
“I’m fine,” she groans out, covering her face in her hands. Hands swarm over her body, caressing her shoulder, patting her hair, and the comfort makes everything feel even more embarrassing. Somehow. She doesn’t know. God. She doesn’t know what to do. “I’m fine.”
Quiet. Hua withers underneath the silence.
“I’m really fine,” she insists. “I was just. Surprised.”
The hand falls from her shoulder to her waist, squeezing comfortingly. Senti cups her chin, forcing Hua to look at her. It’s embarrassing. She doesn’t want to.
But she does, anyway.
“Are you sure sure?”
She pauses. Senti’s brows are furrowed in concern, eyes seeking hers, and it makes her heart warm.
“Yeah,” she says.
She kind of. Really wants to try it out. She just doesn’t know what to do.
But Senti still seems hesitant as she exchanges gazes with herself, and gets back to her feet. Like this, in this angle, the toy feels too daunting again.
The clone holds her hand and squeezes tight. Hua barely manages to hide her smile.
“Old timer . . .” Senti trails off. “Are you really sure –“
But Hua is already opening her mouth again, taking in the dildo as far as she can before she feels the need to gag. It’s fine, she thinks; a bit on the bigger side that she has to stretch her lips wide open, but if she takes it slow, maybe she can take it all the way in.
There’s . . . really no need to, though. Just a thought.
Just a thought.
Senti sucks in a breath, and Hua looks up.
Oh.
She’s red, all over. Her half-lidded eyes, her cheeks, down to her unbuttoned collar and the fluttering heartbeat against her neck. Her wrist hides her lower face, and it’s a shame, she thinks, because that expression in her eyes is so magnetic and enticing. Something near arousal, something gentler. Something like awe, something harsher. Her left hand cups Hua’s cheek, almost reverently, and her breaths rasp against her skin, shaky with the undertone of deep groans as Hua slowly bobs her head and licks all over the silicone toy.
It tastes like plastic. Nothing special, really. Her jaw aches within minutes, and it’s really not something Hua would like in her tongue for long. But
Something about that expression on Senti’s face. Something about it. God. God.
She looks so sexy.
She wants to see that face on her more. It suits her so much. She wants to see her pleased like this all the time.
Hua rubs her thighs pitifully, suppressing a whine as she holds onto Senti’s hips, and takes in the dildo deeper down. She seizes up, choking over the length of the toy as it slides down her throat, and it’s painful, actually. She wants to pull away and throw up, eyes tearing at the sensation of suffocating, but
God. That look on Senti’s face. Hua can’t look away.
“Old timer . . .” she croaks out, hand falling to pat her hair. Her lips are red and swollen from being bitten, and the way she swallows a moan, shakily rutting her hips against Hua’s mouth like she can’t help herself; Hua whimpers – tries. She can feel her saliva drip down her chin, but she pays it no heed as she finally reaches the end of the toy, nose bumping against her pelvis. “God. You’re so perfect like that.”
Too much. She likes the praise a bit too much.
But she barely manages to maintain that for a few seconds before she’s pulling away, coughing and dry-heaving on the carpet. Her throat feels sore, painful, and distantly, she feels Senti patting her back, murmuring comforting words. She’s not sure which one. Or both. It’s too warm.
“Old timer, are you okay?”
“Obviously not! You should have stopped her from going further!”
Oh. They’re arguing again.
“I can . . . still . . .” Her words end in a coughing fit. It doesn’t help her case at all.
Senti raises a brow and smiles at her, brushing her bangs aside to kiss her brow. “What? You liked it that much? Gotta say, I didn’t expect that from you, old timer.”
“No, I –” She coughs again. It’s a bit painful. She’s really not used to it.
But the memory of Senti looking down at her like that,
She squeezes her thighs shut to try to alleviate some of the ache. It doesn’t really work as well as Senti’s fingers and tongue on her.
A glass of water appears before her. Hua blinks at it, and follows the arm to meet Senti’s eyes. No, her clone. She thinks. She’s really not sure which one is real anymore.
“Is this real water?” she asks hoarsely, gratefully taking the glass and downing it in one motion. It’s refreshing, just the right temperature that her throat isn’t so agitated, and she sighs in relief.
“It’s real if you want it to be,” Senti says, and snorts to herself. Her clone settles behind Hua and leans against her, wrapping her arms around her waist. Her hair tickles, and Hua shivers at the warm breath of air caressing the back of her ear, nipping at the sensitive lobe.
“Old timer,” she mumbles, and trails a path of kisses over her shoulder, up to her nape. Hua bites her lip.
She tips her head, breath stuttering with every fluttered kiss pressed against her skin. A scrape of teeth, a mild burst of pain, and the ache that lingers afterward; Hua breathes out, and pats the clone’s hand, nuzzling her cheek against hers. “Thank you for the water, xiǎo shí.”
The frown on Senti’s lips deepen. Hua peers at the girl behind her, but finds nothing but wide eyes innocently blinking back at her.
“What?” she pouts.
. . . Cute. Hua kind of feels guilty calling her a clone when she acts so real.
Senti huffs. “Brat.”
Offended, the clone scowls at Senti. “You’re the brat, brat.”
Oh. They’re fighting again.
Really . . . How did Hua get stuck in this situation again? She sighs.
The ache between her legs throbs uncomfortably, a sinking heat trapped beneath her skin, insistently knocking just beneath the surface of calm. She shifts in the clone’s hold, and bites back a moan when her core grinds against her thigh.
The two look at her.
Ah. Guess she wasn’t as quiet as she thought.
Those red, red lips crook into a lopsided smile. It never really bodes for Hua when she smiles like that, she thinks. Or maybe, it bodes too well for her. She can’t decide. The sway of her hair against her bare skin is hypnotizing as she leans in near, near enough that Hua can almost taste the mint on her lips.
She swallows, harsh.
They work almost frighteningly in sync when it comes to Hua, she notices. Senti ruffles her hair as she stands, her strap bobbing, and Hua flushes at the hint of shine on the surface.
She sucked on that. Her. Sucked. On that.
She almost can’t believe she did that.
The clone helps her stand up, and deftly fastens a strap over her hips, before opening a bottle of lube, and pouring it all over the dildo.
“Oh, whoops,” Senti says, and her clone snorts. “Guess we had lube, after all.”
God. This woman will be the death of her.
But she doesn’t understand why she’s wearing a strap, too, until the clone falls back on the bed. It bounces her up, down, up, and she laughs with abandon, grey hair flying over the sheets like feathers over canvass,
“Old timer,” she breaths like a melody, and opens her legs invitingly. The teasing hint is there, lingering beneath the blatant lust in her voice. Her thighs are already drenched. “I’m waiting.”
Oh.
Oh.
Senti rests a palm on the small of her back, gently pushing her on top of her clone. The bed is so soft, sinking beneath her weight as she traps the girl between her arms, and meets gazes with her.
“C’mon,” she says, and helps Hua position the dildo between her thighs. Hua holds her breath, watching, and really. The sight of the dildo, so stupidly big against her shiny lips is so erotic she could keep staring at it.
She presses in slowly, watching her face for any signs of discomfort. But she’s already so wet that it slides in without effort.
“Good girl Hua,” she hears her say. Hua groans and hides her face in her collar.
She feels the girl sneak her hands to her ass, pinching her flesh before parting her cheeks for Senti. She squeaks in embarrassment, squirms, but there’s not much she can do when Senti rests a hand on her hip, and teases the cockhead against her lips.
Senti curses. “That’s so hot.”
“Senti!” she yelps, burning red the longer Senti keeps staring at her. She feels so exposed, presented like a piece of meat underneath her worshipping eyes, but Hua would never admit that maybe she likes it. Senti is always so gentle with her. Usually.
She is always so gentle when it comes to worshipping her body.
Hua bites back a groan as the toy sinks into her pulsing walls, easily bottoming out with how wet and stretched out she is. It’s almost embarrassing.
But Senti pulls out halfway and still, just like that. Just enough to make her feel full, not enough to keep her on the edge of pleasure. She looks back, about to beg, but Senti only smiles, and rests her hand against Hua’s back.
“Well?” she asks. “What are you waiting for?”
Oh.
It’s really almost embarrassing.
Obedient, Hua raises herself on her elbows, and avoids Senti’s gaze as she rocks herself against the dildo, fucking herself on Senti’s cock, and fucking into her clone’s waiting cunt. It should be easy, but she finds herself losing rhythm ever other thrust. Her limbs feel too weak. It feels too good.
Senti sighs and grips her hips, before pulling out and slamming into her. Hua whimpers, but she can’t deny it feels too good when Senti does it again, again – her repeated climaxes within the past hour doesn’t help, and she finds herself barreling into another orgasm within seconds.
She feels as if underwater, muted by her heart hammering in her chest. The world feels as if hazy: the warmth of Senti's skin against her, the pleasure numbing her legs — distantly, she hears Senti murmuring something against her ear, but even if she strains to hear it, she can barely muster enough energy to understand.
Her cunt clenches around the toy inside her. It's painful and nice; she feels full. Too full.
Senti pulls out, and thrusts back in.
Hua whimpers against her clone's neck, gasping as she feels her raise her hips, pushing the toy deeper into Hua's core again.
“Xiǎo shí —” Another thrust. She barely manages to grit back . . . something. She isn't sure if she wants to cry or moan. Both. Both. Her limbs feel like jelly. “Oh, God. Wait, xiǎo shí, I — I just —”
“But I didn't come yet, old timer," she hears. Fingers on her waist, overlapping the ones on her hips. She feels Senti pull her ass back up, and roughly thrust back into her, forcing her to fuck the girl beneath her. It hurts so good.
“Right,” Senti says, and laughs. “You're not gonna leave her hanging, right, old timer?”
But she can't answer. Hua can barely stop the groans coming from her lips, helplessly bounced back-and-forth between the two girls as they use her like their own, personal toy. She buries her face in Senti’s clone’s neck, and chokes on her cry when Senti leans down, and flicks her overstimulated clit.
She finds purchase in the sheets, holding on for what remains of her sanity as the girl beneath her grows desperate, grinding up against her strap with every thrust Senti makes. Her hips ache between the two of them, forced to take the pleasure even as it spikes to another painful high.
Senti cries out. One of them does. She doesn’t know. Hua shakily raises her head and watches Senti’s clone fuck herself on her toy, and she’s so pretty, like this. Teary eyes, red flush, swollen lips parted in broken moans. Her nails on Hua’s back scrape against skin; it stings then grows numb, and Hua leans down to swallow her sounds with her lips, fingers searching down to play with her clit. The clone cries out, shivers.
“Xiǎo shí,” she mumbles between gasps. Senti parts her hair to the side, and it’s awkward and it actually hurts her waist to twist like this, but Hua manages to kiss her lips, too. She tastes like sweat, the faint sweetness of wine candy and dessert. She loves this girl so much. “Love you. God. I love you.”
Senti smiles against her shoulder.
Her clone comes first. A sharp gasp, and then she’s holding onto Hua with a vice grip, nails digging into her back, thighs shaking; Senti is always so pretty when she comes. Hua kisses her collarbone, the tremble of her heartbeat against her neck. She would watch her come undone, but Senti doesn’t stop thrusting into her until she’s coming, too, vision blanking as the pleasure washes everything away.
It’s warm when she comes to, laid in between Senti’s arms and nuzzling against her chest. The clone is nowhere to be found, and Hua finds herself mourning the warmth of her skin while she was held by the two of them.
“Old timer? You good?”
“Hm?” Drowsy, Hua looks up at Senti and smiles lazily at her concerned look. She raises her hand, and cups her cheek, pinching it. “Yeah. I’m good. Don’t worry.”
Senti sighs in relief, before shaking her hand off with a pout. “Ugh. Here I am worrying for you, and the first thing you do is pinch me?”
“Sorry,” she mumbles, and yawns, snuggling back against her chest. Senti eagerly welcomes her with a hand against the back of her head, combing her hair. Her fingers catch on tangled strands, and when Hua hisses in pain, Senti immediately gives it up. “You’re just . . .”
“What?”
Cute. Really cute. But Hua only lets out a short laugh, and kisses her chest. “Nothing. Love you, xiǎo shí.”
Her voice softens to a whisper, bashful, almost-sweet, like candy and dreams. “Mm. Go to sleep, old timer. I’m here.”
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pandora
okay i started this BEFORE pinhead was officially announced as new dbd killer but we can still say it's a celebration of sorts. also my new icon hello.
#kirsty cotton#hellraiser#lament configuration#horror#horror movie fanart#horror films#horror art#hellraiser films#my art#artists on tumblr#i like to draw girls with floaty hair
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“Let the Trials begin....”
Lunise Guardian of the Isle
Very spooky gurl
#ninjago#ninjago oc#heart of the oni universe#the heirs#isle of the ancients#lunise#ghost girl#when theo be like oooh pretty#nicki be like draw luniseeee#and i was uggg thatll be hard thoooo#i would have to do floaty hair....#.....#ok ill do it#4 hours later
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Squeak
Summary: Kate learns a thing or two about taking control
Paring: Kate Bishop x Reader x Wanda Maximoff
Genre: Plot..um? with some allusion to smutty things?
Warnings: playing with headspaces and a few slightly sexual acts?
*if i missed something let me know*
A/N: a quick fun training session (; where mayyybbe the toy gets a new name?
***MINORS DNI** **18+**
Training Grounds Master List
“You have to let that go, Stray.” The irritation is dripping from Wanda’s voice, her accent coming thick. She’s sitting across the room from you as you kneel at Kate’s side. You’re dressed in your prettiest lilac lingerie, and your brain is already a little foggy. “The world can’t always hand you a perfect situation to help you along. The toy is already so floaty, aren’t you Little One?”
Her voice strikes your bones and it makes you whine loudly, swaying some in your spot trying to not lean forward and nuzzle Kate’s thigh. “Yes Mommy” Your voice is soft and your eyes are barely focused.
A finger under your chin drags your attention to cloudy dark cobalt eyes, tapping along your jaw. You tuck your head, trying to nip at the fingers. A quick but harsh slap stings your left cheek and the shock almost clears your head, “Don’t be a brat, princess.” Her nails are scratching at your pulse point now, drawing an appreciative hum from your throat.
Her fingers trail along your neck, playing around with pressure some, before running through your hair. Slow and soft making your eyes slip closed, leaning farther into her touch. The hand in your hair stutters some, and you can feel the anxiety radiating off your girlfriend as the hand tightens.
A sharp snap causes her hand to relax, resuming her shaky movements once more. “You shouldn’t have a need to be rough all the time. You already have her where you want her, the princess doesn’t need much more than this.”
When her hand leaves your hair, you immediately feel cold and the whimper escaping from your lips is pathetic. You don’t see the look of panic on Kate’s face or the reprimanding look on Wanda’s, but you know that the archer doesn’t put her hand back in your hair and it makes the fog in your head thicken. Whining as you hear the two start up in a conversation, something about the dinner.
What feels like an hour goes by and your thighs are trembling trying to hold the perfect position. Kate’s eyes are flickering between your shaking form and Wanda’s bored eyes, the witch just looking expectedly at the younger woman. The archer sighs, closing her eyes for a second to compose herself. She feels the magic float across her face before she hears the voice in her head, “Calm down, nothing is going to go wrong. Just let it come naturally. We have precautions, there’s no fear here.”
The ocean blue eyes snap open, determination clear within them, as she spreads her legs. The archer snaps her fingers and points at the spot in between her thighs, “Come here, baby girl.” You move quickly, shuffling to kneel prettily for her. Her hand comes to pet your hair, and your head finally rests on her thigh. She lets you have a moment to nuzzle into the soft skin there, mouthing at it some. The sigh hits your ears as she slips two fingers into your mouth, instantly you start sucking. “Such a good girl” Her voice is breathy, light but it’s somehow firm. The fuzzy feeling in your brain makes you melt into her leg as you obediently suck.
Her eyes are trained on you, running her thumb along your jaw as it works to take her fingers consistently. Your body keeps readjusting, trying to get comfortable on the floor, even though you barely mentally register the pain. There’s a slight panic that spreads across the archer’s face, immediately wanting to end the training to get you comfortable. A quiet noise from across the room calms her, and her gaze flicks to where Wanda is giving her a small encouraging smile.
She abruptly pulls her fingers from your mouth, a miserable whine follows as you lazily try to reach them. Kate shushes you, wiping the drool onto her thigh. Patting the wet spot, “C’mere pretty girl.”
Your body moves quickly, clumsily climbing into her lap. Her hand lands on your inner thigh, letting her nails dig into the tender skin. The pain is barely noticeable but the motion makes your head swirl, and you wiggle some in her lap. The deep chuckle that falls from her lips makes you squirm more and she leans forward, teeth nipping at the spot where your neck and shoulder meet. “Stop moving and sit still for me, baby.” Your body stills mostly, but the twitching still is obvious.
A frustrated noise comes from deep in Kate’s throat, and she bites down hard on your neck. Her jaw works to keep a nice grip as you twist at the unexpected pain. The brunette lets your neck go, “Sit still, you brat.” Her voice is sharp and firm. She has one arm wrapped around your waist and the other is now gripping your thigh tightly. The teeth against your neck resumes nibbling, leaving marks across your neck and collarbone.
The feeling of your girlfriend’s teeth on your skin makes you move around even more as your body starts reacting to it, and Wanda can tell the young archer is getting frustrated. Even worse is the witch is watching your mind start to clear, slowly lifting out of the foggy mindset. Sighing she clears her throat, watching as you two separate slowly. Kate guides your head to rest on her shoulder as she tangles her fingers tightly in your hair, her attention shifting to Wanda.
The Sokovian is slow with her response, watching the scene in front of her. She takes note of your eyes, almost completely clear and beginning to focus. Kate is tense and the uneasiness is coming off her body in waves. The older woman knows she needs to do something so that you don’t slip completely out of your fuzzy mindset, knowing it’ll only result in a drop.
“Little one, what do you need?” Wanda’s voice is smooth, using the deeper register of her voice, letting her accent run thick. She chuckles darkly watching a shiver run through your body as you hide your face even more in Kate’s neck, a miserable whimper leaving your lips. “You know maybe what you need to hear is a pretty name? Mommy knows how much that gets your dumb little brain all fuzzy.”
Your mind was clearing but the tone the witch uses as she speaks to you drags you back into the fog, settling you into a content warmth. You wiggle in Kate’s lap, wanting something to suck on and you begin mouthing at her neck. The firm grip in your hair drags you out from her neck, a whine tumbling from your lips as you desperately try to get back to your spot. ‘Nuh uh you’re my chew toy, not the other way around.”
Wanda’s eyes light up when she hears Kate’s possessive title for you, watching with proud eyes as she sees your entire body go slack for a minute. Swaying in the lap you’re desperately trying to sit pretty, but Wanda can see past that. The witch sees the thick smog in your eyes cloud and your jaw flops open, begging to be filled.
Before the older woman can even say anything the archer’s rough calloused fingers slide past your teeth, her nails clicking against your teeth. The pride is obvious on Wanda’s face as she silently watches, a wide smile spreading across her face as she watches Kate’s confidence bubble to the surface. “So that’s all you needed huh? You just want to be Puppy’s little Chew Toy?”
Your jaw started to hurt the longer you sucked your girlfriend’s fingers, but you couldn’t stop. The floaty feeling in your brain was entirely too strong now, and you couldn’t stop your hips that were now moving. Kate’s moving your body around, a pathetic whimper tumbling from your lips as she slips her fingers out to grip your hips. Your head is moving back and forth, a dazed look in your barely open eyes, as you try to find something to mouth at but your back is now flush against the archer’s chest. Her teeth meet the thin skin along your shoulder, biting harshly, drawing a low moan from your lips.
The sharp nips definitely pierce your skin a few different times as she travels up to your neck, your head falls back lazily to lean against her shoulder. “Let’s show Mommy just how loud you’ll squeak, shall we little Chew Toy?”
Tag list: @simplysimping999 @8bitscarlet @simpfornatasharomanoff @yourtaletotell @theperfectlovestory @widowbitessting @katebishop-ladyarrow @caroldantops
#kitmoas writes#k: TGU drabble#k: training grounds#kate bishop#marvel fanfiction#wanda maximoff#marvel wlw#kate bishop x you#kate bishop x female reader#kate bishop x reader#kate bishop x y/n#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff x you
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monochromatic deep end
#cartoon#art#drawing#night#pool#water#perspective#anime#manga#stars#deep end#i like to think they are trans#also i still love floaty hair#and girls#moon#moonlight#reflection#black and white#noir#digital art
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Can I request Eli Jang with a fem partner that is really insecure?
Sure. I'll make it really lovely and wholesome for you. I'm not too familiar with Eli Jang, though his arc was one it my favorites. <3 enjoy🌼💕
｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍈｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡ 🍐｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍈｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍐｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡
𝗘𝗹𝗶 𝗝𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗻 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝘀/𝗼
webtoon lookism: Eli Jang
warnings: low self esteem and mention of light bullying
｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍈｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡ 🍐｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍈｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍐｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡
Eli Jang's aura feels like this song when talking about insecurities:
🍈 Eli Jang is confident in himself. He's sure he's a good dad and he looks absolutely stunning, as many girls tell him as well. You get insecure sometimes because your boyfriend is too perfect. So many girls swarm around him and they all make themselves look like goddesses, to impress him.
🍈 Eli Jang doesn't realize what's going on with you, but he notices your mood and how you avoid going outside with him. He'll ask you calmly what's up while he's feeding his baby daughter. As described in the blog where I talked about songs, he's really gentle and loving about insecurities.
🍈 He listens while you explain your problems only briefly. The idea you disliking yourself aches in his heart and he wants to make you feel so highly. In his eyes you're one of the most beautiful things in life. Yenna, you and only skies share the same color for him, you're all his life, his precious love. He tells you how much he loves you.
🍈 "I don't date you for your looks, princess. You're the most beautiful girl I ever came across, besides Yenna. You matter the most, no girl with long hair or bright eyes. I love you, okay?" His voice talks to you silently, smiling softly and caressing your rosy cheek with his cold fingers.
🍈 He kisses your ear and after he put Yenna to bed, he draws a bath for you, invites you to some alone time. He pulls the clothes your skin is covered in from your body and sits behind you in the hot bath. He feels secure and safe. His smile is still on his soft lips, making you feel better. "Relax a little." He whispers in your ear, pressing your back against his chest. The hot water and his warm body let you feel floaty.
🍈 He starts kissing your neck, telling you compliments and appreciating every inch he can see and reach with his hands.
🍈 He takes your hands into his: "Look, only your hands are this pointy and cute. They're made for my hands. So soft, lovely." He mumbles. Eli has such an incredibly sweet heart, his presence gives you butterflies. You haven't had a evening like this in a long time. It cheers you up, makes you happy, you feel loved and appreciated.
🍈 After a long bath, you both jump into comfortable clothing and head into the bed. You choose a movie, a kids movie you loved when you were little. It was a perfect recharge for your self esteem, the night seems endless. After the third movie he finds you sleeping in his arms, drooling on his sleeve. He chuckles.
🍈 "Dear, how could you think someone else is better?" He says silently, before he turns the TV off and dragging the blanket over your shoulders.
🍈 Eli Jang, he's one of the softest and most gentle people there are, he'll bring you to love yourself, he'll show you what adoration is, how delightful you are. He appreciates everything of you. Even your madness, even your rage, or whatever there sleeps inside of you. It makes you, you, and he's in love with you. Once he falls in love it's hard to drag him out of his deep feelings.
｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍈｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡ 🍐｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍈｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍐｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡
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