#you got a peek at some in the first set but i cleaned them up and finally finished the second set >:3

[good-beanswrites]

I wanted to bring up a silly ship idea. Just for fun.

03, 06, 09, 10

Was this before Kotoko attacked them? After? I dunno.

Thoughts?

YES the cringefail 20yo polycule 👏👏👏 Thank you for the request! I've seen a lot about the individual pairs, so it was really fun to think about all their dynamics together! I have a set of hcs that could work in the current canon Milgram, and then a normal au set because it's so fun thinking about them :3

Milgram-focused

The I’m-a-loner-who’s-doing-it-for-justice-don’t-TOUCH-me pair finally meet their match when confronted with the I-loved-someone-so-much-and-don’t-plan-on-stopping pair. They all go into the relationship with grand ideas of love: they think it’s all heroic acts of saving, massive gestures or love, and dramatic confessions. Over time, they realize the real heroism/romance is in the little things. 

Mahiru has her hands full with three people who neglect themselves for the sake of their work/interests, but she always loves feeding them and helping give them what they need. In turn, they can give her more affection and attention than she could ever ask for. They make sure someone is always around to spend time with her.

Each of the three is a perfect match for dealing with John’s reveal. Mahiru is calming and helps tone down Mikoto’s initial stress. Fuuta is honest and will help Mikoto finally confront his own situation and move forward. And since Kotoko can match his strength, Mikoto doesn’t need to be afraid of accidentally hurting anyone. Mikoto becomes less stressed with the overall situation as well as more accepting of himself/John.

I always love the idea that Fuuta is secretly starstruck by Kotoko and John’s strength. He’ll never admit how much he admires their ability to stand up and fight. He feels really safe around them. He’s glad to have the opportunity to fight for someone else, too – he likes to be Mahiru’s self-proclaimed protector and hero. (Even though most of the time she can stand up for herself, she still likes letting him take care of her.)

Kotoko’s experiences let her hold solid conversations with everyone. She’s similar enough to Fuuta where they share some interests (social issues, schooling, etc.) She understands hard work and burnout to earn Mikoto’s respect. She understands physical strength to earn John’s. She has a lot of people-knowledge, so she can gossip and talk about Tokyo life to Mahiru (Mappi’s doing most of the ‘gossiping,’ but Kotoko has solid additions). She's a good listener and has a good memory, so everyone feels heard by her.

They start to rub off on each other. Mahiru and Mikoto learn to be a bit tougher in standing up for herself. Fuuta, John, and Kotoko learn to take a breath before jumping right to violence. They stay very much who they are, but pick up on just a few habits that make their lives easier.

Their styles also influence one another: Fuuta gets pointers from all three about piercing his ears (though it takes him a long time to get up the nerve to do it). Mahiru helps the others dress more trendy and boost their confidence, and they teach her to worry less about her appearance and relax more. 

If they get together T1, Kotoko is shocked by the T1 verdicts. She might pull away from everyone in initial horror, but after developing a relationship ahead of time, she doesn’t follow through with her attacks. If not, then maybe in T3 when Kotoko is suffering from her guilty verdict, Mahiru and Mikoto are able to bridge the gap and develop a friendship, leading to more. Fuuta would take longer to come around, but I think seeing Kotoko got through the same pain as him, his hero instincts would kick in and he’d gradually help. 

Normal-au

Mahiru once again tries out her lovers’ interests, and gets a bunch of new hobbies. Fuuta teaches her to game, she works out with Kotoko, and she tries out photography with Mikoto. She becomes close with Fuuta’s beautician sister, and enjoys bonding over fashion and hair. She helps redye Mikoto’s hair, and give the other two pointers on style now and then. When going to nicer events, she and Mikoto have to step in and stop the others from their sneaker/hoodie combos. As the only one with a license, she’s the designated driver at all events, but doesn’t mind. 

Fuuta uses his tech skills to set up social media accounts for the others. He helps Mahiru network her flower shop, fighting anyone who leaves a bad comment/review. He helps set up a complex online portfolio for Mikoto. He and Kotoko still have a passion for justice, and he becomes the tech brains behind her vigilante operations (very Ron Stoppable - Kim Possible) It’s not necessarily healthy growth, but they’re happy with it lmao

Mikoto is the only full-time worker, the others are all still in university, and he makes sure to keep them all on track. He knows the most efficient tricks and cheats about getting papers done, pulling all-nighters, and cramming before an exam. The others have learned to spot when he’s burning himself out for others, and will stop him when he tries to take on too much. They’ll take care of him and force him to rest. While he can still get into a bit of trouble, John learns to call them first and get some help. 

Kotoko has trained herself to find people and information easily to catch criminals, but she finds use for it in much more mundane ways – she tracks down clients for Mahiru, snoops around Mikoto’s company to make sure he’s being treated right, and keeps an eye out for the people Fuuta is calling out and/or hanging out with. She goes on runs with Mahiru, and bike rides with Mikoto. Fuuta tags along sometimes to strengthen his legs for soccer. 

There’s definitely potential for them all to have their murders pre- or mid- relationship, and they help one another improve themselves and heal. I’m also a sucker for the relationship itself to cause them to change their ways and narrowly avoid the murder in the first place. (For the latter, Mahiru would ironically be the last to join the relationship, since she’d still be with her bf until the other three inspire her to break it off with him gently.)

#milgram #fuuta kajiyama #mahiru shiina #mikoto kayano #john milgram #kotoko yuzuriha #you got a peek at some in the first set but i cleaned them up and finally finished the second set >:3 #thank you for waiting asdfdsf these were really fun to think about :D #im loving the image of the four workout buddies asdfdsf #and id imagine their home is filled with photos as mikoto and mappi take a bunch of everyone :') #even in milgram i can see them snapping lots of shots #i know its harder to swing a post-attack relationship but i do think its possible given how intense everything is #just as prisoners were friends one day in t1 and enemies the next in t2 i think things can change fast #and yeah... im so sappy over them all picturing these massive gestures of love: #beating someone up to protect their lover - gifting them something elaborate - saving them from a burning building - planning an exotic dat #and instead they find that preparing a meal after a long day means the world to them #getting up early to workout and keep them company is huge #remembering little details about them and their interests changes their lives #<333 #OUGH now i just want them to be happy ;---; #headcanon time milgram

[l0serloki]

omg i just got to know u write for jjk too!! I originaly was following you because of your valorant stuff and i love your writing style and those cute gifs you add at the start of every post <3

If its not alot can you please make some short drabbles/headcannons for the jjk men (gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna, choso, megumi) where its late at night you are all cuddled up and you hear something from downstairs, the man get all protective thinking its an intruder and go check it out. ( you can make it an actual intruder and add a lil fight scene or make it a racoon or a stray cat and make it cute its upto u)

Im sorry if i sound wierd english is not my first language 😅

Intruder Alert

(Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Todo, Sukuna, Choso, Megumi)

A/N : UMMM first off I read Toji as Todo soo.. sorry about that one. Second off thank you so much for the request!! I kinda made these more cracked out than I expected them to be.. I hope you still enjoy and I can always do more if you want.

CW : intruders (duh), casual murder (geto), gojo being an ominous being, Sukuna being on top of you as you wake up

masterlist

Gojo : 

    Your body was cuddled against your boyfriend as you tried to sleep. As quickly as sleep came, it left. There was a sudden noise downstairs that made you jump.

“What was that?!” Gojo turned to you, scratching at his face. 

“I don’t know. It sounded like something downstairs.” You whisper out and the blue eyed freak groaned.

“Don’t worry babe. I’ll go check it out. There’s no need to be scared.” Gojo grabbed at your hand pulling you out of the warm sheets.

“If you’re going to check it out, why are you taking me along with you?” You deadpanned as he corralled you down the stairs. 

“Because babe if I die then you need to avenge me.” Gojo whispered out as he peeked around the corner. His eyes surveyed the kitchen as he crept in.

“Coast is clear- HOLY SHIT!” Gojo fell back, crawling to your feet. You watched as a raccoon jumped down from the counter, scurrying back outside from the open porch door. 

“Satoru, why did you leave the backdoor open..?” You rolled your eyes as you helped the ‘strongest’ man to his feet.

“I thought you did.” He grinned as he got up and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. 

“Why am I with you?” You chided and he just pouted.

“So mean..”

Geto : 

   “There’s a noise Sugu..” You whisper out as you adjust in his arms. Your eyes stare up at him as he scrolls through the TV.

“It’s probably nothing Y/N. Don’t worry.” He rubbed at your head as he continued to mindlessly stare. You heard steps creeping as you continued to lay there. You couldn’t help but feel anxious and definitely with the warrant out for your boyfriends head.

“Suguru, someone is in the house.” You plead. He only rolls his eyes as he shuffles around in bed. 

“You’re fine-” His eyes widen as the door slams open, a tall man standing in the wake.

“Geto Suguru, it’s nice to finally meet you.” His grin is wicked and you crawl closer to Suguru out of fear.

“It’s not smart breaking into my house, you know.” He grabs at your form and pulls you up. Curses forming behind the estranged man as Geto frowns. 

“Personal preference really. I don’t get why people consider you that strong.” The man shrugs as he gets closer and you flinch as a punch flies past your face. One of his many curses attach to the mans fist. 

“Pathetic. At least I know I need to replace the lock.” Geto rolls his eyes as the man screams in agony, his head exploding from the pressure of the curse.

“Are you okay darling?” Geto bends down to run his hand across your cheek, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to your warnings before. I’ll be more observant for you.” He leaves another peck as he sets you down against the plush pillows of the bed. 

“Give me a moment to clean up and we can cuddle, okay?” 

You only nod as you shake from the violent attack. You knew you were always safe with him but that didn’t make you worry any less. But at the end of the day, you still had him.

“Okay.” You lean in to give him one more kiss as he goes to clean up the ‘leftovers’.

Nanami : 

  You were cradled in Nanami’s arms as you heard rustling around. Nanami gripped tighter at you as the noises became louder. 

“Kento..” You mumbled out. His soft snores filled the room as you tried to wake him up. You squirmed around in his arms trying to get his attention. A scream left your lips as a harsh knock on the bedroom door filled the silence.

Nanami whipped straight up, gripping at his cleaver that sat on the bedside table. 

“Y/N what’s wrong?” He placed a quick kiss against your forehead as another knock sounded at the door. You gave him a scared look and he squeezed your hand.

“Nanami, are you there? I just got done giving Megumi his gift so if you could open up..!” Gojo’s voice filled the silence and you let out a giant sigh. Of course it was Gojo.

“Gojo, what are you thinking sneaking into peoples houses at 3 am. Regardless of time there is a thing called privacy.” Nanami swung the door open, berating the special grade as he started to push him out. Gojo gave you a thumbs up as he sat the gift bag on the chair and continued to struggle against the blondes hold.

“Try the lemon flavor Y/N! I think you will like it!” Gojo calls out as Nanami shuts the door on his face and sighs. He comes back over to the bed, his face worn down as he falls into his pillow. You couldn’t help but laugh at the buffoonery that unfolded.

“Ken are you okay?” You rubbed at his back. He only groaned as he peeked up from the comfort of the bed.

“Can we pretend that never happened?” 

Todo : 

Todo’s face was buried against your chest as he snored. You ran your fingers through his hair as you continued to mindlessly scroll through your phone. You heard noises creaking against the floorboards which attracted your attention.

“What the hell?” You pushed the large man off your chest and stood up to go check out the noise. 

“Huh..? Y/N..” Todo’s hand yanked you back towards the bed, his eyes pleading for you to continue cradling him. 

“There’s someone there Aoi. You have to let me check.” You push his hands away much to his dismay and move to leave the bedroom. His body moves quicker than yours, ripping away at the door.

“Is someone there!?” 

There was a scuttle from a thief grabbing at some of your belongings, his hands flying up as Todo stomped through the hall.

“How dare you ruin my time with Y/N?! I am disgusted!” Todo grabs the thief by his shirt and tears open the window. 

“Todo, the vase!” You screech as your vase teeters and he throws the man out the window, grabbing the nice china in time.

“Stupid. Now let’s go back to the bedroom.” He dusts himself off as he grabs you with one arm and makes his way back into the room.

“Maybe we should check the door..” You gasp against his tight hold as you try to process what just happened.

“The door should try and check me!” He gloats as he places you gently on the bed, still worked up from having his precious time taken from him.

Sukuna : 

    Your body slid in the sheets as you felt hands gripping at your face. Your eyes slowly opened and adjusted to see the beast on top of you. 

“What-” You struggled to speak as his hand pushed your cheeks together.

“Such pretty lips. All for me?” He grinned as you smacked his chest. Sadly this was a recurring theme with the two of you. Whenever Yuji lost control you always somehow had Sukuna trailing close behind you. And although you weren’t particularly happy waking up to such intrusions, you didn’t mind it either.

“Cmon.” Your voice is garbled as he pets your skin and grins.

“No scream for the intruder? I’m disappointed.” He slaps your cheek lightly, not enough to harm you but just enough to wake you up.

“You’re a piece of shit.” You roll your eyes as he chuckles and pulls you flush against him.

“You like it.”

Choso : 

“Baby.. there’s something outside.” Your eyes barely peek above his arm as you hear the scratching at the window. Choso just groaned and pulled you tighter into his embrace.

“It’s okay. Just sleep..” His voice was hoarse as he patted your head. You couldn’t help but still feel anxious, tugging at him to wake up.

“Please..” You jolted as another harsh slap hit the window. Choso sat up and made an annoyed face.

“Who would be stupid enough to come here?” He stomped out of the bed and over to the window. He ripped at the curtains and opened the window. 

“You think it’s funny-” Choso starts only to get backhanded by the tree arm that had apparently been smacking the window. Your eyes widened as he wiped at his face, turning to see you laughing hysterically. He let out a small laugh as he rolled his eyes.

“Glad to see you’re not worried anymore.” He slides back into bed, pulling you flush against him. 

“Baby you didn’t close the window.”

“Really..”

Megumi : 

  Your body rested against Megumi’s as you both cuddled against the sheets. It was a cold night and the heater was all but broken. One of your hands rubbed at the fur of the black dog coating you like a blanket while the other rubbed through your boyfriend's hair.

There was a ruckus from downstairs, your body jolting at the sudden noise. The dog seemed to notice as well, sitting up and growling, ready to protect you and Megumi.

“There’s something..” You pushed against your boyfriend and he slowly wiped the sleep out of his eyes. You arms circled around him as his shinigami jumped down from the floor and went to go sniff out said intruder.

“If someones there we will know. Don’t worry.” Megumi stretched as he tried to get into action. He jostled himself out of the comfy position and opened the door. 

“Really.” His voice was deadpan as the dog came back into the room and jumped on you, unfazed. You were confused - there had to be someone if Megumi was talking.

“Hello dearest son! I brought sweets! Oh and hello Y/N!” Gojo gives a wave as he holds a giant bag out.

“Get out.” Megumi rolls his eyes as he pushes the bag away and shuffles the sorcerer back through the house. You could only chuckle at the interaction and hope that Megumi would tell him to knock next time.

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader fluff #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto x reader #geto x reader fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x reader fluff #nanami kento #todo x reader #todo aoi #todo jjk #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna x reader #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #choso x reader fluff #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi x reader fluff #jjk headcanons #jjk imagines

[miguelhugger2099]

OMG HIIIII I HAVE A REQUESTTTTT

I LOVE UR STORIES

So imagine Fem reader just going through her closet throwing out old things along with miguel and she finds an old shoebox of hers opens it and its her retired vibrator and pink dildo that she hasn’t used since she started dating Miguel and she’s looking at him awkwardly since she said that she totally threw them away so miguel gets back at her by taking the toys and making her use them

ANYWHO BYYEE THANKKZZZ

Pretty in Pink

me when you appear in my inbox, throw a smut prompt in my face and dip: ∑(; °Д°) i genuinely had fun with this request i made him speak more spanish than usual idk why lol but as always, if you don't like it, i'd be more than happy to make another one <3

Miguel x Reader, Smut, Word Count: 2,777

You stare up into your messy closet; old clothes, old photos and yearbooks and maybe some plastic shopping bags you forgot about were all scattered inside. Hands on your hips, you blink at the cluttered mess while Miguel is behind you and crosses his arms with an unamused look. “You really let it get this bad?” He asks, looking down at you. Miguel had called to say he wanted to see you but you told him it was cleaning day for you and you decided to deep clean. He assured you he still wanted to come over and even help you but when he arrived he wasn’t expecting to see how even the smallest places needed organizing. Life got in the way, you told him. You shrug and let out a deep sigh. “Just help me.” You grunt with a roll of your eyes and go on your tiptoes to reach the top shelf in your closet. There was a big heavy box filled with god-knows-what and you huffed as you slammed it down on your bed. Miguel takes a peek through it while your hands empty out the contents. A two year old angel halloween costume, childhood belongings for sentimental value and a local shopping bag that held your graduation gown. “How do you even still have these?” Miguel scoffs a laugh while he digs through with you, picking up a stack of old movie tickets you used to collect. You snatch the wad of crumbled tickets back with a pout on your face. “They have sentimental value.” Miguel chuckles and teasingly pinches the tip of your nose. “I know but stop being a hoarder. C’mon. Pick what you wanna keep and pick what you don’t. I’ll get a trash bag for the stuff you don’t want.” Miguel then steps out of the room, leaving you alone to set up two piles. You huffed out a big sigh and got to work. Carefully, you picked things one by one to decide if you really needed it.

Some old shirts that didn't fit you were tossed in the don't want pile and the cute headband you thought you lost was placed in the keep pile. Any other things like some old bags or trinkets you grew out of were placed in a different pile on the floor for trash. When the top shelf was fairly cleaned out, Miguel came back with two large black trash bags and began helping you stuff the things away for donation, trash or something along those lines. You then sat on your knees to start on the floor area of the closet, picking out shoes that were too small now and tossing them to Miguel. You reached for a small shoe box in the corner and opened it up to see if any shoes inside were still usable. You didn’t expect to see a matching set of your old baby pink vibrator and hot pink dildo catching dust inside. You gagged on your own spit in surprise, feeling the color drain from your face. You were sure you threw it out. You didn’t need them anymore, not since your first time with Miguel just a little over a year and a half ago. “What’s that?” You hear Miguel peek over you, curious since you stopped handing him things. You slam the shoebox shut. “Nothing!” But he had already seen it. “It’s nothing–haha.” You strained, standing up to open the trash bag Miguel brought to throw it in there but he stops your wrist. With his other hand he takes the box and you screech, trying to take it back. He lifts it open and inside are the familiar toys he’d seen before.

He remembered assuring you that you didn’t need them anymore–not with him around. So he made you promise something to him that day. He made you promise to throw it away after you both had sex; that while you had him, no flimsy toy could ever satisfy you like he could. You kept most of that promise. You really hadn’t picked them up since, you just forgot to actually throw them out. “I thought I told you to trash these.” He glared down at you. You pause reaching for the box, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as you try to excuse yourself. “I-I did—I was!” You stutter and feel yourself get smaller and panic when he cocks an eyebrow up. “I haven’t used them!” “At all?” “At all.” You grip around his forearm, hoping he wouldn’t be pissed you broke your promise. He glances back down into the box, the sight of it pissing him off. “Sit.” And so you sat on your bed, looking up at Miguel. Miguel picks up the small baby pink bullet vibrator in his hand. He turns it around to find the button and playfully clicks through the different settings. The buzz of the bullet makes your face burn, slightly angry and embarrassed how he’s just fucking around. “Okay, I get it! I’m sorry–just throw it out.” You groan and reach for it again but he snaps his head to glare down at you and you freeze. His eyes narrowed. “How’d you like it?” He asks, turning to face you, your eyes meeting his stomach before you look up.

“Huh?” You ask. He presses through the settings again as if guessing. “Did you like it slow?” He clicks to the first vibration. “Or maybe fast?” He hums as he clicks to the fifth vibration. He guesses you like it faster. You’re stumped. You weren’t sure where he was going with this. You don’t think he’s angry but he’s quiet–there’s something about him that’s changing the shift in your conversation. You cross your legs together when you hear the small buzz increasing. “Fast,” You mutter. “Start at one or two then to three or four.” You look away from him playing with your old toys, your heart speeding up at the sight of the two things that gave you pleasure these past few years. Miguel tosses the box on the bed. You yelp when Miguel pushes you down onto the bed, his knee already forcing your legs apart. You gape up at him, open mouthed in shock when the look on his face is more sinister, head full of ideas of what he’s planning to do. It makes you gulp nervously. “How ‘bout I try them out? You let me know if they’re just as good as me, yeah?”

“Huh?” You squeak out and before you know it, Miguel crashes his lips onto yours. Your eyes flutter close and your hands find purchase in his hair, a dance the two of you knew like the back of your hand. His tongue easily slips through to the inside of your mouth, entangling itself with your own tongue. You moan and roll your eyes back, kissing his back with equal fervor. You buck your hips up to grind yourself on his knee, you can already feel yourself getting wet. He helps alleviate that pressure by rubbing his knee to your aching pussy and you sigh in relief. His left hand holds your waist then moves up your body to cup a tit in his hand that makes you moan his name between kisses. Miguel then slides that hand under your shirt, lifting it up to show your bra. His kisses don't relent up, instead pushing your bra up to reveal your breasts to him and freeing them from confinement. He massages your breast in one hand and ghosts his thumb over your nipple, feeling it harden from the soft touch. Miguel moves his hand to tug your pants down and you lift your hips up to help him rip them off. He clicks the button of the vibrator and ever so gently presses it against your clothed cunt, the small wet patch making it easier to feel through the fabric. You jolt from the buzz, gasping and holding onto Miguel’s wrist. He rips your hand off and collects both of them to pin them above your head. Just one hand from him is enough to render you helpless. He then pushes your panties aside to slip the vibrator right on your clit. You choked on a gasp and tried to pry your hands away from him but he wouldn’t lend up. Your hips squirmed around to try and get away from the sudden stimulation. “I bet you missed this feeling, huh? Is it better than my cock?” He hums against your neck. You shake your head, your face burning up with desire. “N-no…” You whined, nothing was as good as Miguel but he tsks under his breath.

“No? But look at you making a mess on it already. I barely even started.” He whispers, leaning up to bite your earlobe and you moan. His voice had gotten deeper, more husky–just how you liked it. He rubs it gently, applying pressure a few times to find the spot that hits your nerves. You moaned his name when he found the exact point and he began circling around your swollen nub. His action made you jump from pleasure, the shock of it hitting your chest and down to your pussy. “Un poco de vibración y ya estás mojadita en mi mano.” He murmurs, clicking the bullet to a faster pace. You writhe and struggle between deciding to close or open your legs. Miguel struggles to keep the small bullet in his hand, the toy being incredibly tiny compared to his large fingers especially when it was wet from your cunt. Growing frustrated, Miguel pulls the vibrator off your clit making you whimper. He lugs your nimble body up and he moves to lay back against the headboard laying you to rest against his chest. You can feel his strained cock behind you but you barely have time to properly register it before he places your familiar hot pink dildo in front of you. “Muestrame cómo lo usaste antes.” He brushes his lips behind your ear. He helps you hold onto the base of it and you weakly look up at him with a lustful and dazed hum. “Miggy…” You whimper.

“Hazlo.” He growls as he places the silicon tip at your weeping entrance. He rubs the girth of it between your folds to lube it up, especially at its tip. He then lets go of your hand to move up to your breast and starts fondling the round flesh in his palm, using his fingers to roll and flick the nub. It sparks pleasure to your stomach and you bite your lip. You take a firm grip around the dildo and slide it inside your folds, your pussy sucking up the toy into its walls slowly. You moan and lean your head on Miguel’s shoulder. He leans down to nibble on your neck, his canines catching your flesh in between them as he suckles gently while playing with your perky tits. Miguel’s left hand holds the baby pink vibrator and he sets it at its lowest setting before placing it over your clit again. You gasp and arch your back off of Miguel’s chest, bucking your hips to meet the vibrator which makes you also shove the dildo further inside your cunt. “Hnngh! Mig–uel!” You mewled, closing your eyes as you submit to ecstasy. Miguel chuckles, kissing your jaw. “Que te pasa? I’m barely doing a thing. That’s all you, mami.” He rubs the toy around your swollen clit while you pump the dildo in and out of you. Your hips thrust in time with your hand with the vibrator slipping and even smearing your juices from around your labia. Miguel turns up the speed of the buzzing and you let out a high-pitched moan. “No–no, please–” You squeal. “Wait–wait…” You pleaded and grabbed his wrist but Miguel didn't budge. “I thought you liked it fast.” He teased.

“‘s..’s too much…” You mutter, slowing down the dildo into soft long strokes, fucking it up into yourself to hit that sweet spot Miguel always hits. Even with a toy, you’re thinking of him. Miguel pulls on your hardened nipple and you cry out, clenching on the dildo. “Too much?” He scoffs. “You’ve taken a lot more, nena. C’mon, make it faster just how you like it, yeah?” He mutters, moving your hand off the silicon to replace it with his. With your hand now free, you reach up and behind you to grab onto Miguel’s locks. Miguel then pumps the dildo deeper inside you causing you to scream and pull on his hair, bucking your hips against the toy. “Miggy, Miggy–!” You whined, looking down at the sight of his hands using the pretty pink set of adult toys filling and playing with your wet pussy. “Oh, fuck…” You groan, thrusting yourself wildly onto the silicon. “More…” He smirks. “There she is.” He groans and clicks the vibrator to a higher setting, the buzz becoming louder as it surrounds your sensitive clit and folds, the dildo pounding into your cunt at a fast yet hard pace. It was like Miguel was fucking you with his cock himself. “Is it better than me, mami? Did you miss stuffing these inside you?” He murmurs against your ear as he continues to thrust it inside you, slipping the vibrator in circles and pressing it against your puffy entrance.

You shake your head while sweat beads down your forehead. “No…” You whined. Miguel doesn’t believe you. “No? Should I stop?” He slowed his hand down and was about to turn off the buzzing bullet when you squealed and grabbed his wrist tightly to stop him. “Don’t stop.” You pleaded, panting since you finally got the chance to regulate your breathing. Miguel tuts in disapproval. “It’s only good when you do it…” You murmured and his smirk grew back on his lips. “Oh yeah?” He kisses your cheek, slowly starting up his pace again, staring at the way your slick glistens against the hot pink color. You relax on his back again, stuttering your hips as they thrust up. “Mhm..” You moan and gasp when he pounds the toy into you, its soft balls slapping against you. In the middle of fucking you with your own toy, Miguel’s hand gets drenched with the overwhelming amount of juices that you leaked out of your wet pussy. He resists the urge to rip the dildo out from you and dive between your legs for a taste. He settles for licking his chapped lips instead and fucks it into you faster. Your body begins sweating profusely, squirming about as you try to reach your high as fast as you could. Miguel presses the vibrator at a faster pace and you screech, your nails digging into his skin. Your face scrunches up in pleasure and your breathing becomes uneven, panting heavy breaths as your mind gets clouded with the goal of cumming.

“Already close, mama? Go ahead.” He urged you further to your release. He watched as he hands made quick work to fuck and please you, bewitched with how perky your nipples got and how your body bounced and grinded on some plastic dick. “Miguel, harder…” You whined, spreading your legs further apart. With a kiss to your neck, he thrusts the dildo into you and clicks the vibrator to its highest setting, shocking your nerves and getting the breath knocked out of you as it makes you see stars. You screech out a high pitched moan, stilling and shaking your legs while your pussy clamps on the toy and drenches it in your cum. Miguel slips it out with a wet shlick and sets the vibrator to a lower setting to ease out your orgasm. With now one hand free, he wraps his arm around you and cups your left breast, giving it a small squeeze before pushing your bra back down over them. He kisses along your neck and jaw, murmuring praises to you. “Así es, hiciste bien…” He whispers as you slowly come out from the haze. You pant softly and twitch when the vibrator buzzes on your now sensitive clit. Miguel turns it off quickly and sets it to the side with the dildo and rubs your inner thighs comfortingly. You hum and lean back against him, catching your breath as your cheeks slowly stop burning as well. “Do you still wanna keep them?” He kisses along your neck, feeling your blood pump through your veins. You gaze over at the box and to the abandoned toys to the side. “Maybe the vibrator. The dildo wasn’t big enough.”

A/N: how r we feeling ? ┗(･ω･;)┛

#nonie requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut

[asuyaka]

Heyy, idk if u're still taking requests or not but if u're not just ignore this!

TikTok really came to drag me down the Satosugu hole by the foot this week goddamn. Anyways, I'd like to request my favorite sad gay boys with a m!reader who's a effeminate soft boy and is usually pretty quiet and cooperative but the second someone says something remotely negative about the two m!reader is already throwing hands and burying the offender's head onto the ground. Bonus point if he's from the Zen'in clan!

No one's ever calling Geto's bangs 'weird' with m!reader around lol.

- '🌈' Anon.

★ - yes! reqs are open !! when the first (yippie!!) one piece one shot comes out s'when reqs are gunna close briefly cause 've got other things m'needa work on! (❁´◡`❁)

☆ - Satosugu x M! Zen'in clan reader!

Lulling chirping sounds sounded through the second-year classroom as the sun began to rise. The sound of sweeping and the screech of desks moving across the table sounded through your ears.

With a gentle hand, you plucked the dead leaves off the bouquet of flowers that usually resided on the window sill next to your seat; plucking off the leaves as well and shaking it so the petals could become more pronounced.

After cutting the stem so water could flow through them, you placed the flowers in their vase and put them in their designated position, a pleased smile on your face when you realized that was the last thing you needed to do for cleaning duty, even though it wasn't your turn.

The door slid open behind you as a tired-looking Yaga walked into class. His eyes widened for a bit when they saw you before his expression turned sour. "Good morning, [Name]. I thought Satoru had cleaning duty for today?"

You bowed politely in greeting. "He asked me to do it because he had to get limited edition crepes today."

Yaga sets his things on the table with an annoyed mumble. "Thank you, please make sure he gets to class on time."

You nodded as you left the classroom. The sun shone down on your face through the windows as you made your way to Suguru's and Satoru's dorms.

You pass by Shoko in the kitchen who was hunched over the counter making a cup of coffee. "Want a cup?" She asks, biting and finishing the remaining pocky in her mouth.

'If Suguru woke up a few minutes ago, he'd want some. Maybe Satoru would like some hot chocolate too.' You thought briefly before turning your attention back to the brunette. "Yes, please. One hot chocolate and black coffee."

Shoko grins at that instantly recognizing the order. "You've got it Mister Zen'in."

You wave goodbye and continue your journey. Suguru's dorm isn't that far from the kitchen so you got there in a short amount of time. You knocked, politely waiting for an answer.

"[Name]-chan? If it's you, you can come in!" Satoru's voice answered.

You open the door to see two bags of delivered crepes beside Satoru, who is painting Suguru's nails black. "See? Got some for you guys 'cause I'm such a nice person!"

Suguru rolls his eyes. "You only got them because you remembered flunking on cleaning duty."

You take a seat beside them, staring at Suguru's black nails. "Yaga says I should make sure you two get to class on time."

Satoru snorts, the tiniest bit of blue peeking out from his glasses. "Yeah, and when have we ever listened to what Yaga says?"

"You don't. Maybe Suguru, but I actually enjoy not getting punched in the head every time you do something stupid." You interject, causing Satoru to gasp loudly.

"Suguru! Do you hear this? I do everything I can to make sure you two are well fed and all I get in return is bullying!" Satoru whines as he sets the nail polish aside to let Suguru's nails dry and picks up the bags with a bright smile on his face.

Shoko kicks the door open with two mugs in her hand. "Here you go losers. Zen'in blink twice if they're forcing you to be here."

Suguru and Satoru stare at you expectingly, an exaggerated gasp when they see your eyes close twice.

Shoko giggles, patting the top of your head affectionately. "Yeah, I'd be scared if I was forced to hang out with them too."

She walks out of the room with a reminder that class starts in a few hours. Satoru brought out the crepes and immediately started eating them as he read the Digimon manga, periodically sipping his extra-sweet cocoa.

"[Name], why didn't you get a drink?" Suguru asks, picking up a crepe carefully so the paint doesn't smudge.

You shrug. "The place I normally get my drinks at is too far to walk in the morning."

Satoru looks at you blankly as he stuffs his face with more food. "I could've teleported, dummy. C'mon, road trip time!" He exclaims as he grabs you and Suguru.

"Satoru, no— you haven't even mastered it yet—"

You feel reality split and your stomach churns uncomfortably for a brief second before everything stills again. The sound of cars blaring runs through your ears as a familiar sidewalk reflects through your eyes. "See? easy!"

"[Name]? Are you okay?" Suguru asks, squatting in front of you with worry all over his face.

Taking a minute to breathe, you feel everything finally settle. You have no idea how Satoru can do that without throwing up. "Yes, I am... okay. Just a little disoriented."

Suguru shoots a glare at the albino who rubs your back apologetically. "Well, my apology is your drink! So come on, I wanna get back to the crepes before Shoko's fat ass eats them."

"Shoko doesn't even like the crepes you order. It's always too much sugar." Suguru defends, slapping Satoru upside the head as the three of you walk into the shop.

It's a small cafe situated inside a bookstore with soft Lofi music playing in the background. The three of you get in line. It's short, most likely due to how early it was but that only meant you could get back to the dorms on time.

You hear snickering behind you but pay no mind. After all, it was a public place, and whatever affairs other people had wasn't your business.

Then, you hear something about how a guy has his nails painted. In the corner of your eye, you can see them pointing at Suguru.

Either Suguru and Satoru notice and they don't care, or they don't notice. Either way, you weren't going to let them poke fun at your friend (boyfriend?) and get away with it.

"Is something the matter?"

They stare at you, visibly sizing you up. "Wondering why your friend has nail polish on, isn't that only for chicks?"

Satoru taps you on your shoulder. "Take it outside, don't want you to beat their ass and get banned, yanno?"

You acknowledge him but keep a sharp gaze on the two of them. "Giving gendered terms to inanimate objects is an extremely stupid thing to do. It is not on you, so why should you care what he has on?"

The implication of calling them stupid seemed to hit a nerve because a vein pops in their forehead and their fists clench. "Cause it's fucking gay. What? You like taking it up the ass too?"

"If a fight is what you want, then that is fine with me. Do not let your petty ideals and quite frankly shitty opinions mess up my morning."

They keep talking as you make your way outside. The instant the door chimes close, a loud groan rips through one of their mouths.

They hold onto their nose, now streaming blood and broken. "Dude, what the fuck?!"

"You wanted a fight, did you not? Now, I am quite busy at the moment so if that is all, then I bid you a good rest of your day."

As you were about to walk back into the store, Suguru and Satoru came out with your drink in hand. "Yo! Here, got the kind you like cause I loveee you so much!" Satoru kisses your cheek and hands you your order, especially as you like it.

"Thank you, Satoru. Would you like to go back to the dorms now?"

Suguru stuffs a cake pop in your mouth, handing Satoru one and eating one as well. "Thanks for... that, by the way."

"It's no problem. You are my... partner, after all."

Satoru grins as he latches onto the two of you again. "Teleportation time, let's go!"

"Satoru, no—"

#writin' shit. #ANSWERED LETTERS — 012 #★: anon! #jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo x male reader #x male reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satosugu x male reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #geto x male reader #suguru x male reader #satoru x male reader #male reader

[faeriekit]

Salt Mirror

phic phight fill with two prompts; for @echoghost1 and @fuyuthefoxwriter

(Sister fics are Snow Day, Snowdrift Sanctuary, and Frozen Out)

********

The first thing Danny noticed was the teeth. 

Or. Well. The first thing Frostbite noticed were the teeth. What Danny noticed was that suddenly he was being offered bigger and bigger bones with his meal, which were very much not typical human-appropriate food. 

“You break them,” Frostbite showed him, pinning the bone between two sharp canines and biting down. The bone broke clean in two. Hot-dog style. “Then you are free to eat the marrow inside.”

Danny stared. “I don’t… I don't think my teeth do that.”

“Try it,” his guardian encouraged. 

…Well. He hoped Far Frozen had as good a dentistry practice as they did medicine. Danny shoved the bone between his canine teeth, and clamped down—

—And the bone broke clean through. 

Huh. That was…new. 

Well. Marrow tasted good, anyway, and scooping the butter-soft marrow out with a spoon was easy. Danny might have clunked the wooden spoon against his teeth a couple times (man, was he clumsy today) but he was very happy with the results. 

The next day Frostbite offered him an arm-length rib bone, Danny didn’t even hesitate to chomp down. 

He ate through four ribs before he felt full. He was happy. 

*

The second thing Danny noticed was how pale he got. 

Like. As in ‘his arm matched the snow-white fur of his tundra-proof coat’ level pale. ‘White as a glacier and just as blue’ level pale. Like. There was no red left in his skin. 

He pressed his thumb to his palm. It went yellow, and then flushed back to white as his blood went back in. 

…Spooky. Uh. Danny blinked loudly. Maybe he was…sick…?

There wasn’t a mirror in their cave dwelling, and nothing was shiny enough to reflect in— everything that wasn’t medical was cast iron, or not quite mirror smooth, like Frostbite’s round cooking knives. 

Danny needed a mirror. 

He bundled up and walked through fresh snow drifts to the closest medical facility: an ice cave across from Ledyanoy and Avalanche’s home, carved into one of several dozen pillars of ice embedded into the floating island. Danny knew that there was a mirror there, since Frostbite went in for mirror therapy every time his ice-carved arm began to itch psychosomatically. 

He darted inside. Pritla was the only one in there, so they ignored him in their quest for additional data. Great. All Danny needed was the mirror set up in the corner, ready and waiting to be rolled into place for Frostbite’s next session. 

Danny peeked at his reflection. He looked…wow. 

For one, Danny looked spooky as hell. The blue went all around his eyes, now— no whites to be seen, creating an uneasy, inhuman look. He was pale. He was very pale. He looked like the printer had run out of any colors that might have given him some sort of standing to wander reality with. 

The insides of his lips were blue. The wet inner linings around his eyes were blue. 

…What. 

And. Speaking of…lips…his gums were a deep, sapphire blue, as was his tongue. None of that was as important as his huge freaking fangs, though!

Like! Huge! Not yeti huge, of course, but still!! Danny had no idea how they weren’t sticking straight out of his mouth when he closed it. Big, pearly fangs. 

What the heck was happening to him? 

*

“I think you’re turning into a Yeti,” Tundra decided primly, and flung himself at Arctic without any further thought. The teenage Yeti— still taller than Danny by two heads and a half— squawked, barely seeing the projectile cub in time to dodge appropriately. 

“No,” said Danny. It was more outright denial than certainty. He wrapped his coat tighter around himself. 

Avalanche, who was the closest to adulthood out of all of them, watched the two wrestle balefully. Tundra was barely out of cub age, and Arctic wasn’t much better than Sidney Poindexter when it came to having his crap together, so it was kind of like watching two frogs mud-wrestle in knee-high snow. 

“I mean,” said Avalanche, mostly bored by the spectacle of Arctic getting his butt whipped by what amounted to a kid, “I’m pretty sure it’s normal for human-born ghosts to adapt to their Obsessions after they form. You have to change a little to match your environment. And we have a lot of snow.” 

“So much!” Tundra howled from where he was perched on top of Arctic. His victory lasted as long as it took for Arctic to get his legs underneath himself, push himself to standing, and launch Tundra into a snow drift with a surprised squeal. 

Arctic shook himself off. His fur fluffed up with the effort, which made him look larger in size than usual. “I think that if you were turning into a yeti, Frostbite would have noticed. Or said something. Or done something.”

Avalanche shook her head, gamely ignoring how Tundra had turned from a fallen-in-the-snow position to a crouching-and-ready-to-pounce position. Danny had seen this a million times now; either Arctic would notice (he wouldn’t) and dodge, or he’d once again fall victim to Tundra’s childish enthusiasm. 

Danny and Avalanche largely had no comment on Tundra’s second leap of faith, nor for their mutual struggle for pubescent dominance that ensued. 

There were other questions to ask. 

*

“Am I turning into a yeti?” Phantom asked. 

Frostbite looked down. 

The half-ghost looked nervous— picking at his lip until green beaded under his teeth, his hands in the sleeves of his coat. 

“No,” Frostbite confirmed. He didn’t smile, as it would have seemed condescending in the face of Phantom’s genuine worry. It was better to keep calm. “Why are you worried about turning into a yeti?” 

Phantom stared up at him, eyes deep and luminous. Frostbite had seen similar coloration on deep-sea creatures, long-travelled things desperate for any sort of light. The sight was compelling, yes, but could not substitute for a verbal answer. 

“...Because I’m changing colors and now I have sharp teeth and I think I’m growing claws,” Phantom pointed out. All of these things were true. They were very good, sturdy teeth, and very good, sturdy claws, which was a good sign; anything otherwise would have indicated a lack of support on Frostbite’s end. 

“It is a very normal thing to want to explore other forms of expression at your age,” Frostbite pointed out. He threaded his paws through Phantom’s pale hair, and found, to his pride, little buds of ice horns. “And I am very flattered that you think so highly of us that you are interested in mimicking some of our more obvious traits; that being said, if it distresses you, you are always free to change back.” 

Phantom’s face turned…lost. “Oh.” 

Frostbite continued petting. More explanation would come, or it wouldn’t— but in the meantime, the human tinge returned to his charge’s cheeks, flush with red blood, and the bud horns collapsed where they grew. His charge’s hair turned dark once more, his teeth flat and human. 

Phantom’s eyes were always blue. The human color was not as deep, but was just as nice. Now, there were tears in them. 

“What is wrong, little one?” Frostbite rumbled, concerned. Phantom took his paw and pressed his face to it in search of tactile comfort. 

“I didn’t know why I was changing,” Phantom admitted, sniffing. His voice was wet and raw. “I was scared I couldn’t go back. Humans don’t just…change like that, 'cause we're made of matter. I was scared…”

Frostbite rumbled wordlessly. His charge had adapted very well to a non-human environment, but there were knowledge gaps that would have come naturally to any Realms-Borne being; most intuitively was knowledge of the self, as well as the rigidity (and fluidity) of one’s own manner of expression. 

Changing without realization would be distressing. Frostbite still remembered what it felt like to wake up some mornings and realize that his arm was gone. 

“You are alright,” Frostbite reaffirmed. “It it healthy to change, and it is a good time to find out how you will want to present yourself. That being said, there is no rush.”

Frostbite paused. 

“There is one rush. If you intend to partake in eating marrow with our dinner tonight, you may want to manifest your teeth again—”

Phantom laughed, little cub’s fangs poking out between his teeth. All would be well; but first, there was dinner to be had, and a good night’s sleep to be found.

#phic phight #phic phight 2024 #phic phight 24 #i cannot remember what tags I have been using and it's kind of distressing ngl #danny phantom #far frozen #Frostbite #Danny Fenton #Yeti!OCs #'what do yeti teenagers do' idk babysit n roam around n hit each other probably #Danny's having an identity crisis which is p fair for cross-species adoption after your parents rejected you for expressing inherent traits #faer fic

[bandgie]

Hiya I just read some of your work and I love it, do you think you could do a Yandre perv Seungmin, only if you can. Have a good day 🥰

a/n: thank you so much! and yes on it!

synopsis: You start to notice little things when Seungmin first moves in with you. Maybe your underwear goes missing and you swear he's starting to use your perfume. Weird, but not necessarily bad. Well, not yet anyway, you still haven't found the camera he's set up.

warnings: nasty Seungmin lol

872 words

Your eyes scanned the floor of your bedroom, confused. You swear you left your clothes out on the bed when you got out of the shower, but it was missing. More specifically, your underwear. Maybe I didn't pull them out, you think.

Even then, this isn't the first time it's happened. You've noticed a huge decrease in the amount of panties you own. Things tend to go missing in the house, that's always been a thing. But why your thongs?

You change into your shirt, wrapping a towel over your middle and lower section before leaving the room.

"Seungmin?"

He hears you call him from behind his bedroom door. Your pretty black undies are pressed against his nose. Granted, they're clean, so the smell isn't as strong. But it does the job. The faint scent of your smell is enough to get him hard, tugging pitifully at his cock.

He shoves the underwear underneath his pillow and sits up. Seungmin shoves his dick in his sweatpants, ignoring how uncomfortable it is to feel the sensitive skin rub against the fabric. He only pokes his head out when he answers. 

No bra, as usual. Your hardened nipples peek through the thin shirt which is slightly wet from your dripping hair. You smell nice, and judging from the towel around your waist, you just took a shower. 

"What's up?" 

You shift weight from one leg to the other, "Weird question, but have you seen my clothes around? I can't find anything to wear."

That's because I have most of them, he thinks to himself. "Uh no? Do you need some pajamas?"

Nodding, you answer. "Please. Just some bottoms."

Seungmin complies and closes the door, telling you that he just needs a minute. Which is half true, it won't take a long time to cum now. Not with the image of you naked in the shower, letting the soap and water drip down your body.

He drops back down on the end and grabs your underwear. He inhales your panties deeply, poking his tongue out to taste just a smidge of you. Seungmin much prefers when they're used. The smell is strong that way, and they're sometimes even warm. He didn't have time to dig through your dirty clothes this time.

Seungmin tears his jogger off and trails the panties down his body until it catches onto his hard cock. He wraps it around his length and slowly pumps himself. Quickly, he reaches for his phone and open his most used app. He's connected the feed to the hidden camera in your room. 

It's wrong of him, so horribly criminal of him to use your obliviousness like this. 

Even then, he can't help the twinge of excitement that courses through him as he views you through his screen. You're in your room, towel abandoned onto your bed. He watches as you continue to look for your undergarments. 

You bend and kneel, giving Seungmin a perfect view of your pussy. It's not aroused, not dripping the slick as it normally would when you played with yourself late into the late. In a way, Seungmin finds it better like this. 

Your complete blindness to what Seungmin's doing turns him on more. Here he is jerking himself off and getting your panties soaked with precum while you remain unknowing. 

Seungmin finds himself bringing the phone to his lips, tongue peeking out to lick the digital version of you. Fuck, he wishes it was you. Your pretty cunt drooling as he'd eat you out. How you'd pull him closer by the hair, suffocating him in you. 

The thought being Seungmin closer to the edge. Maybe you'd let him put his cock in. He would stretch you out so nicely, your perfect walls hugging him. Seungmin can't imagine how warm you'd be, how beautiful your moans would sound. 

The dildo you fuck yourself on isn't enough, it can't be. Whenever he watches you through the phone, he can see how restless you get. There you were, doing all the work just to cum. You'd rather lie down and take it, at the will of the person fucking you.

Maybe Seungmin should play with you while you sleep. Cum inside you so you'd wake up feeling satisfied, complete. It's always been a dream of his. To imagine you waking up to the drag of his cock. Shh, he'd say. It's just a dream.

He's cumming before he knows it. Thinking of perverted thoughts about you always makes him finish.

He's thankful your underwear catches most of the spurts, the rest dripping down his balls. Seungmin stares are your pixelated pussy, watching how you wrap the towel back around your waist once you give up looking for something to wear.

It's then that he remembers how he promised you some bottoms.

Looking through his drawers, Seungmin finds a pair of sweatpants that are too small for him. He takes your cum stained underwear and uses his finger to collect small amounts of the white substance. He smears it into the joggers, making sure to blend it perfectly into the crotch area.

Seungmin only finds it fair to have you walk around with his cum on you. He always does it with yours.

a/n: perv? yes. yandere? maybe not so much. seungmin strikes me as the yandere type to think about you and only you all the time, not necessarily action based hope you liked it! edit: part two here

#smut #skz #skz smut #skz changbin #stray kids #skz hyunjin #skz lee know #skz imagines #skz felix #skz seungmin #skz binnie #skz bang chan #skz in #kim seungmin #seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin smut #seungmin skz #seungmin x you #stray kids smut #skz asks

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 6

Part 5

Come for the sugar daddy fantasy stay for my everybody-loves-steve agenda

Eddie insisted on helping Steve with his suit the night of the soiree. Steve allowed him into his apartment for the first time, after some extensive cleaning. Eddie was already dressed in his suit, red, no shirt underneath. He took the garment bag from Eddie, kissed his lips, and then went to his bedroom. Eddie got a glimpse of his nest before the door was shut.

"Uhh? Baby?"

"No peeking", Steve said from behind the door.

"Babyyyy", Eddie whined, pressing his face to the wood.

Steve grinned to himself as he listened, getting dressed on his own anyway. "I don't want to be late. And if I let you 'help' that's exactly what will happen."

It wasn't just what Eddie would do. It was what Steve would let him get away with. It would be very easy to let Eddie in and then tumble in his nest. The thought of letting Eddie's scent mix in... Steve wondered if he could get away with sneaking a piece of his clothing away. But Eddie had promised him a fun night out and said he'd be meeting his bandmates as well.

He finished getting dressed and came out. Eddie stumbled, being nearly glued to the door. Steve almost made a joke about falling for him.

"You gonna be this attached to me all night?", he asked instead.

Eddie righted himself and stood up straight. "If I let you out of my sight, the wolves will descend on you Lil Red."

Steve put his hands on Eddie's chest and leaned in. "Good thing I've got a big, strong woodsman to keep me safe~"

Since it was a band event, Eddie had a personal driver this time. That meant he could sit in the backseat and play with Steve the whole way. Eddie's hand was firm on Steve's thigh while the other held his hip. He'd wanted to bury them in Steve's tresses but one firm tap and reprimand 'don't touch the hair' and here they were.

Eddie was nibbling on Steve's neck, wishing he could put something more permanent on him. Let others know who he belonged to. When they arrived, Steve took a moment to get himself together. Eddie thought he looked just as radiant now as he did with sex-tousled hair but he liked seeing his baby primp too.

Eddie led him, arm in arm, into a nightclub. The music was energetic but didn't really seem to fit with Eddie's usual metal scene. Steve had done some research on the band, listened to a few songs, learned the other members names too. So even through the blaring music, he was able to understand when Eddie brought them over to a reserved table where the rest of them awaited.

"So this is the guy?", Jeff asked.

"This must be the guy", Gareth nodded.

"Can't be anyone else but the guy", Grant raised his glass to Steve.

Steve smiled at Eddie. "You've been telling them about me?"

"You're a secret I don't wanna keep, babydoll", Eddie smiled back.

"DJ here is mixing a set around one of our albums", Jeff said. "Kind of a little promotion for us. And when we share the video, he'll get a bump too."

"I thought this was a little out of the box for your sound", Steve said.

"You listen to our music?", Eddie asked.

Steve shrugged, playing it off. "I've dabbled." He leaned into Eddie's space to take a sip from the drink in his hand. "What about you? Do you dabble in this?"

"Not quite my scene, no. I'm an appreciator of most genres though."

"Can we finally break the silence on Eddie's jazz phase?", Gareth said.

"What's wrong with jazz?", Steve asked.

"Music was fine", Grant clarified, "He just got super pretentious about the different subgenres."

"He was insufferable", Gareth added.

"What about you guys, then?", Steve pointed the question to them. "Are you into this kind of music?"

"It's something to dance to", Jeff replied.

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Care to dance?", Steve asked.

Jeff gave a look to Eddie, asking permission. Amused, Steve also looked to Eddie for his response. Eddie's arm had been wrapped rather possessively around him for most of the night, so he could feel how antsy Steve was getting. Eddie gave his hip a pat.

"Go have fun."

Steve kissed his cheek and then went down to the dance floor with Jeff. He loved to move and he'd been itching to dance all night, but Eddie didn't seem like a dancer, at least not to this kind of music. And he wasn't about to just go out and dance with someone random in the club. Jeff was the perfect partner, knowing when to be close and when to give him space.

He felt a finger tap his shoulder and when he turned, Grant was there. Following the beat of the music, Steve gave him his attention. He was able to catch Eddie's eyes just once and saw the hunger in his eyes. When Gareth came to dance, he was a little more hesitant to touch Steve until Steve himself pulled Gareth's hands to him.

The way they all touched him was polite but there was an underlying desire. They were showing appreciation, but they weren't going to challenge the pseudo-claim Eddie had on him. He caught Eddie's gaze again and it was darker this time. He began to walk off the dance floor, ignoring a few calls from voices he didn't recognize.

Steve returned to Eddie and straddled his lap. "Sure I can't tempt you to dance?"

"There's not a thing you can't tempt me into, sweetheart. But you'll have to give me something dance-able. Liked seein' you have fun though. My boys take care of you?"

"Mhm, they were very gentlemanly." Steve's hand dipped under Eddie's suit jacket, needing skin to skin contact.

"Music to my ears", Eddie said against Steve's lips before meeting them. He growled against his mouth as he was able to detect the scents of his friends on him. Steve was pack. Steve was his.

Eddie practically dragged him out of the club and back into the car. The door was barely closed before Steve was in his lap again. He was writhing, probably very close to ruining the nice suit pants.

"Come with me", Eddie breathed.

"Yes, Daddy", Steve moaned into his ear.

"No I mean, on tour. Come with me on tour baby."

Steve paused in his humping to look in Eddie's eyes. "You want me along for the ride?"

Eddie nodded, eyes wide and big as if there was ever a chance that Steve would say no. But he also couldn't just say yes.

"For how long?"

Eddie licked his lips. "Two months."

"My job..."

"I'll take care of anything you need", Eddie said quickly.

"My apartment-"

"I'll handle it, baby. Just please say you'll come."

Steve's head tilted to the side. Robin's words echoed in his head. Wasn't this the scenario he'd been running from? An alpha having control over his life? If for even a moment, Eddie changed his mind about him, he'd be out a job and a home. Steve looked back down at him and that was his undoing.

"I'll need a new suitcase, and wardrobe, and-"

"Done, done, and whatever else you can think of, it's done." Eddie kissed him in elation, much sweeter than anything else they'd done all night.

-------------------------

Steve at least tried to sell the whole 'can I bounce for two months and come back later' at his job but obviously that didn't fly. It was fine. It wasn't really the work or even the miniscule paycheck he was attached to. It was simply the comfort of doing the same thing in the same place every day. He could fill out applications on the road and get the same job anywhere.

True to his word, Eddie took him out shopping just a couple of days later.

"I meant to tell you", Eddie said as they walked through the mall. He was dressed very casually in jeans and a t-shirt under a vest with the band's logo on the back. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail and he kept his shades on inside. "That lunch meeting with sushi? Went pretty good. Your advice worked."

"You sound surprised", Steve teased. He was wearing a green sweater and light jeans.

"Not surprised, beautiful. Just in awe." Eddie put an arm around him as he led him into the first store.

Just like at the tailor's Eddie let Steve loose, letting him pick and choose what he wanted. After the third store, Steve was looking at him hesitantly.

"You're really going to spoil me. Going to turn me into a brat and anything."

"What? You? My sweet angel babydoll? Never", Eddie smirked. "You're acting like no one's ever lavished you like this."

Steve shrugged. "Well, not like this but-", then he thought better of it. "Never mind."

"I don't think so, baby. I think I deserve at least one story of past-Steve. You got to google search my life story."

"How do you know I didn't ask Jeeves?"

Eddie put a hand to his heart, then took his hat off like a sign of respect. "RIP to a real one. But you're not gonna distract me, Stevie. I feel like you've been keeping something from me. Not something big, just something you don't think I should know."

Breaking his gaze from Eddie's, Steve spied a restaurant inside the mall. "Let's eat."

Eddie had them get a booth in the back, figuring Steve would want some modicum of privacy for this. He wasn't expecting a bombshell, but he figured it must mean something to Steve.

"So, when you met me, you probably thought I was this... downtrodden, poor omega with nowhere to go." That rainy night seemed so long ago.

"That's not what I thought at all", Eddie said with a shake of his head. "Honestly thought you were waiting for someone. Made no sense to me that you were all alone."

Steve smiled. "Well, I wasn't always alone. Not physically, at least. My parents are Layton and Francesca Harrington. They've got a hand in a lot of things but most of our money comes from apple orchards of all things."

"So you're the heir to a vast apple fortune", Eddie surmised.

"Was the heir to a vast fortune."

"Is there a story behind that?", Eddie asked, watching Steve pick at his food.

"Not an original one", Steve said with a chuckle. "They paraded the alpha sons of their associates. I was also paraded. I was offered a life where all I had to do was look nice and speak little and eventually bring up the next generation of whatever old money family my parents chose for me... It was suffocating."

Eddie's leg stuck out from under the table and rubbed against his. "You got your own place. And your own job. You got out. Why would you keep this from me though? Doesn't sound particularly scandalous."

"I don't know", Steve shook his head. "Maybe I didn't want you to think I was a gold digger, or maybe I didn't want you to think I had super high expectations, or-it just felt like I shouldn't tell you. I'm tired of carrying my parents around."

"They're really that loaded?"

"Didn't you hear me say 'old money'?"

"Is there some scorned ex-fiance I should be worried about?"

"Hmmmnope."

"You sure about that, sweetness?"

"I'm sure. None of them are looking for me. And none of them hold a candle to you."

Eddie could understand wanting to leave the past in the past. After eating, they continued their shopping spree. Eddie paused at a costume shop that showed a few of the outfits on mannequins in the window. Steve followed his line of sight and grinned.

"Gimme your card."

"Sure, what for?", Eddie asked as he handed it over to Steve.

"For a surprise. Go get a pretzel. I'll text you when I'm ready." He kissed Eddie's cheek and then went into the costume shop.

Whipped like cream, Eddie did in fact go get a pretzel, fantasizing about all the little outfits Steve could be buying right now. When they met up, he wasn't allowed to peek. So while he knew there must be a costume of some kind in Steve's wardrobe now, he was oblivious to the lingerie he'd bought as well.

Part 7

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie  @sllooney  @starman-jpg  @oxidantdreamboat  @xxbottlecapx  @chaosgremlinmunson @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast  @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds  @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord  @beckkthewreck @greatwerewolfbeliever @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi @abstractnaturaldisaster @ellietheasexylibrarian @eyesofshinigami @dragonmama76 @marklee-blackmore

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o #corroded coffin #everybody loves steve

[deathbecomesthem]

Roomies 3

Eddie Munson x Best friend!reader | ~2.3K

One & Two

Summary: It’s the perfect solution. You need a place to stay, he needs someone to help with the rent.

In this chapter, expect lots of talk about sexual stuff, but no actual smut. Have you ever unwittingly picked out a super sexy movie to watch with a friend you're attracted to and regretted it? There are spoilers for the film Basic Instinct, but that film is probably older than most of the folks in this fandom.

---

Eddie doesn’t close cupboard doors. Not completely, anyway. There are times when you walk into the kitchen and find at least 5 separate cupboard doors slightly ajar. You think he doesn’t realize he’s doing it - either that or it’s a fully conscious decision. There can’t be an in between scenario. Every time you enter the kitchen, you absentmindedly make your rounds, closing each door until you hear them click into place.

Eddie thinks you’re playing a cruel joke on him, because he has yet to make it through an entire day without stumbling across at least one pair of lace underwear hanging in your shared bathroom. Red, yellow, black, and purple so far. His curiosity gets to him every time he sees a pair, and runs the fabric between his fingers. One morning he couldn’t stop himself, he pulled the black pair hanging from the hook on the back of the door and dropped his boxers. He expected the material to be scratchy against his sensitive skin, but was pleasantly surprised at how gently held he felt. He groaned when he felt his cock stirring against the lace, and quickly took them off to put them back where he found them. He had to get to work, he didn’t have time for this kind of self discovery.

“What are you up to tomorrow night?” Eddie’s asking the question before he’s even fully stepped foot into the living room where you’re sitting cross legged on the couch eating a bowl of grape nuts. His nose crinkles when he peeks into the bowl and sees the brown cereal. “You might as well just eat the gravel from the parking lot.”

“Fuck off,” you say around a mouthful, “sorry it’s not Fruity Pebbles or whatever.” You scramble to not spill your bowl when Eddie plops himself down right next to you. He’s staring at you, waiting for an answer, “I was planning on staying in and watching a movie. Why? You’re working, right?”

Eddie pinches the spoon out of your hand and scoops a small bite of Grape Nuts into his mouth. He wrinkles his nose again, “Nah, Joey needs some extra cash, so I told him he could take this Friday.”

“God, stop stealing my food, you dick. You don’t even like it.” You reach for the spoon, and he giggles and holds it away from you, “Come on, Ed. Knock it off.” You put the bowl on the coffee table, and straddle his lap to reach the utensil. He puts one of his hands on your hip to try to hold you in place. He’s still giggling, but you see his smile falter when he sees that he’s eye level with your tits. No bra, just a black tank top. You slump down onto his knees and he hands the spoon back over to you, and the hand on your back falls away. He’s doing that thing he does, he’s got a piece of hair pulled over his mouth. Shy. 

Eddie clears his throat as you sit back in your own seat and pick up the bowl like nothing just happened. “So, how about you and me tomorrow night? Hang out with your good buddy like we used to do before I started having to clean your hair out of the shower drain?”

“Pffft,” you stir your spoon around the now mushy cereal and set it back down on the table without taking a bite, “I’m sure your hair never ends up all over the bathroom.” You pinch a curl between your fingers and give it a little tug. “But, yes please. Movie night with me?”

Eddie’s eyes are soft when he really smiles, and right now you feel yourself wanting to fall into them. Not for the first time, you think of how easy it would be to get lost in them if you’d allow yourself to do that. They sparkle. From this angle, you can see thin amber colored lines that  you’ve never noticed before now. How much more could you find if you could both stay in this moment?

You break contact and drop your hand from his hair. You didn’t realize your fingertips were dancing along the edges of his curls. It’s your turn to clear your throat. You stand and walk to the kitchen to rinse out your bowl. 

“Well, Angel,” Eddie’s voice carries through the doorway while you’re at the sink, “it’s a date. You, me, Family Video, and burgers from Hank’s.”

A date. You smile at the thought and call back, “sounds good, lover boy. Better bring me some chocolates.”

—

“Jesus, Eddie. Where’s the fire?” You’re clutching the “oh shit” bar as he cranks the wheel into an empty spot in front of the video store. “I swear to god, one of these days you’re gonna give me a stroke.”

“Relax. I’m not the one that’s gotten into multiple accidents in the last year.” Eddie snarks back. He cranks the emergency break and hops out of the van before you can respond. He’s right, but you’re more unlucky than a bad driver. 

It feels good to be with Eddie like this, it’s been a long time. Somehow, over the last few months you’ve been spending less and less time together, and the new living arrangement has put a weird kind of pressure on your otherwise happy and close friendship. There’s tension - you know what kind of tension it is, but you haven’t been able to actively acknowledge it yet. You haven’t even admitted to yourself that you’re finding excuses to be in the hallway when Eddie’s walking from the bathroom to his room after a shower. Wet curls brushing against pale skin. Black ink and shiny rivulets of water. 

Eddie’s voice snaps you out of your private reverie, “what are we thinking? Do not say When Harry Met Sally, I can’t take it again.” You giggle and Eddie shoots you a warning look. It’s your favorite movie. The last time you watched it, he joined you. He cried like a baby.

“No, I’m in the mood for something different. Let’s walk the route.” You hook your arm in his elbow and steer the both of you to the corner just inside the entrance. You’ll do the route - new releases, thrillers, and comedies - starting with A and going all the way through Z of each section before making a final decision. This is how things are done, it’s how the two of you have always done it. You both point out movies along the way you’d be willing to watch, and make a mental list. You’ll consider each option at the end. 

“Come on, Eddie, it looks cute,” you’re pleading your case for Bennie & Joon, but you already know it’s going to fail. Eddie’s toe is tapping impatiently and his eyes barely glance at the movie cover.

“You’re just horny for Depp, don’t deny it.” Eddie reaches out and picks up the plastic VHS case at his side. His number one choice, and you know exactly why he wants to see it, “What about this one? You like thrillers.”

You grab the box out of his hand and look at the girl on the cover of Basic Instinct. “Oh, I do like thrillers. Especially when they’re starring a hot blonde.” You cock your head to the side and hope he goes shy on you about it. He chooses indignancy. 

“Oh, come on. If it’s hot, that’s just a bonus. We could go with Sliver, but it’s got the same issue. I can’t help it if Hollywood only casts hot blondes in thrillers.” Eddie’s standing with his hands on hips and a bitchy look on his face, and it makes you giggle to see. You can’t help it, you want to give him what he wants, even if it means you watch a trashy movie with a hot chick in it.

“You win this round, Munson. But you owe me a milkshake.” 

Eddie does a little fist pump in triumph, and grabs the box from your hand. He’s at the counter in a flash, grabbing a box of Whoppers on his way. Your favorite. 

—

Eddie regrets his film choice very early on, but he’s not ready to admit it. He should have let you get your way, because the tone of Basic Instinct raises the heat between the already blazing temperature. Benny and Joon wouldn’t have opened with a sex scene that made Eddie half hard, at the very least. The graphic violence did nothing to stop the way his mind began to play a vision of you on top of him, his mouth reaching out to your nipple in the same way the doomed man did with that faceless femme fatale on the screen.

“Well, at least he got off,” you reach for the popcorn bowl on Eddie’s lap and grab a handful. Somehow, you seem completely unaffected by the scene that just played out in front of the both of you, “can you imagine coming like that while there’s an ice pick in your eye?”

Eddie shifts uncomfortably and huffs a short laugh. He moves the popcorn bowl to the coffee table. It’s self preservation, he can’t deal with you reaching your hand that close to his dick, even if the bowl is doing a decent job of hiding his erection. Except, you take that move as a signal to scoot closer and rest your head on his shoulder. A familiar position that you’ve taken countless times before, but tonight Eddie is very aware of the body heat your cheek is radiating through his lightweight cotton shirt.

To your eyes, the film is well acted. Beautiful people lying, killing, fucking - an absolute romp. The sex scenes stir your guts, you take short mental snapshots to store away for later. You hide your smile from Eddie, but you’re keenly aware that his entire body is tense. Every muscle is tight, but you’re too good of a friend to point out the way he has to wiggle his hips every so often to hide the tightness in the seat of his pants. You try not to make mental notes about the scenes that make his breath hitch, but your stupid brain can’t stop itself. 

“Oh my god, it’s the therapist?” Eddie sits up straighter at the twist in the story, forgetting about the weight of you at his side. You slide down, and reach out to pull the blanket at your feet over your body. “I knew there was something about her.”

Eddie turns to look at you, the blue glow of the television illuminates one side of his face while the other - the side closest to you - is still hidden in shadow. Poor boy. You frown sympathetically, and cup his cheek with your hand. He’s perplexed by your reaction, but you shake your head and snuggle back into him. This time, you rest your head on his chest, you want to hear the way his breathing and the way his heart beats from here out.

—

“How the fuck did you know?” Eddie’s head is in his hands, thinking about where he lost his footing in the story. “You fucking knew it was Catherine the whole time.”

“Oh, Eddie,” you giggle and run your fingers through his soft curls. You can feel his head push back into your touch a little, it’s subtle but true. “That’s the whole point. You were thinking with your dick, just like Nick.” Eddie turns his face to you. He looks sheepish, but he’s smiling. You kiss his cheek before picking up the bowl of popcorn. It’s empty but for a few kernels and butter stains.

“Well, can you blame me?” He’s following behind you, watching the way your hips sway a little under the black sweatpants. He can’t stop thinking about the way they’d feel under his grip. 

“No, I can’t,” you giggle as you turn back, the fat of your ass pushed against the edge of the counter. Eddie’s closer than you expected, close enough to have to reach around you to place the empty cans of beer on the counter behind your back. “We saw Christine through Nick’s eyes, and he was totally clouded by his feelings for her.”

Eddie’s looking at your lips while you talk, and the words start to slip from your mind. You have more to say, something about an oversexualized femme fatale. Something about noir using the trope over and over again, and how Eddie knows that and still missed it because Sharon Stone made his dick hard. None of that matters, not when he’s looking at your lips like that. Not when he’s looking at you like he wants to swallow you whole. And his arms are bracketing your sides, his hands are resting on the counter. 

“Well, what can I say -” Eddie’s voice is low and he’s close enough for you to feel the heat of his words fanning against your lips. You think, kiss me now, you fool. Instead he closes his eyes and turns his head to the side to shake away the sudden animal instinct that nearly took over his ability to reason. “- you’ve always been smarter than me.” A kiss on the cheek and a whispered goodnight, and you’re left standing there watching him walk out of the kitchen and down the hallway to his room.

You yank open the junk drawer and fish around for the AA battery pack. You grab 4 before slamming it closed and heading back to your own room. It’s precautionary, you can’t have that little Pocket Rocket dying on you, not tonight. Not when you’re sure you can picture exactly what Eddie’s doing on the other side of your bedroom wall. Is it just your imagination, or do you hear the rhythmic sounds of bed springs faintly vibrating along with the rhythm of your own pleasure.

All doubt is gone when the sound of a moan through the paper thin wall, and decide that tonight you won’t bite down on your pillow while your own hips lift up off your mattress trying to ride an imaginary lover through your pleasure.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction

[poppy-in-the-woods]

Sneak Peek

Plot: Inspired by this post. Set during the lockdown, Noah's been ignoring you, and you're gonna make him pay.

Pairing: Noah x Female Reader

Word Count: 1534

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tags: smut, teasing, sexting, oral (male receiving), double penetration, anal sex, somewhat public sex/exhibitionism.

Author's note: Some of you said you wanted a story about that idea, and before I knew what was happening, my fingers were furiously typing, and this is the result. Hope you enjoy it!

2020, the year the world came to a halt. You and your boyfriend, Noah, were trapped inside your shared apartment, and it was beginning to get kind of boring. There’s only so much stuff you can do inside before it gets repetitive. Even sex had started to get kind of predictable and uninteresting.

Lately, he had taken to streaming on Twitch, so that night, while he was streaming, you were on the living room, browsing the web on your laptop, desperately searching for a way to spice up your bedroom life. Then you found an article that seemed helpful and elaborated a plan.

Step one: buying some new risqué lingerie.

Step two: acquiring a new toy.

Step three: wait until they arrive and put on a show for him while he’s streaming.

Step four: success?

You managed to keep the packages a secret from him after they arrived, even when you had to thoroughly clean and disinfect the items, and wait a week after that so you could use them.

That evening he wasn’t looking at you. He hadn’t been looking at you for a while now, but you were going to make sure he’d look.

Noah had been streaming for half and hour now when he got the first text from you. Glancing at the screen he saw what you had written:

Babe [19:40]: I’m horny, come here.

He trailed off what he was saying while typing a response.

You [19:41]: I can’t, I’m streaming.

You didn’t stop at that, though, and he had to pause while going back and forth with you for a couple more messages.

Babe [19:43]: ☹ Pretty please? ☹

You [19:43]: I can’t right now.

Babe [19:45]: Your loss then.

He didn’t receive another message for ten minutes. The next one was a picture of your cleavage in a sexy red bra he was sure he hadn’t seen before. He smiled and pressed his lips together, but didn’t respond. He continued the stream as if nothing happened, though the picture was still on the back of his mind, like a splinter.

“No reply, bitch? Then it’s game on”, you said to yourself.

You snapped a few pictures in quick succession: a full body shot that showed your new lingerie set, one without the bra and completely nude.

You sent them, but he didn’t respond, and he didn’t even open the last message. Time to bring out the big guns.

Noah shifted uncomfortably on his chair. The increasingly sexy pictures you were sending were starting to make concentrating on the conversation pretty difficult. He didn’t open the last message, imagining what you would send next. He understood himself well enough to know that if he opened it, he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself, and he couldn’t leave his friends hanging now that the Mario Kart game was on, could he? No, sir, he was a man of his word and he was committed to finish.

But when his phone started buzzing insistently, he lost on purpose to look at it.

The nude picture wasn’t the worst (or was it the best?) you had for him in store.

Babe [20:23]: Wanna see my new boyfriend? Since you don’t pay any attention to me anymore, I had to get him.

The next message was a picture of a pretty realistic dildo, with a water bottle next to it, just for scale. Noah was a big guy, but that thing seemed bigger.

Babe [20:25]: How shall I name him? Noah II?

Next picture was the dildo, nested between your breasts, your tongue darting out to lick the tip.

He covered his mouth, stifling the unholy sound that was threatening to come out of his lips, shifting again on his chair. You surely had caught his attention, and he was starting to get hard. A new subscription popped in, distracting him. He lifted his eyes from the phone to look at it. The robotic voice read it before he could stop it:

UnsatisfiedGirlfriend06: Look at your phone, you coward.

And then, right after, a donation of ten dollars:

UnsatisfiedGirlfriend06: I dare you to ignore that. I double dare you. Bitch.

He looked at his phone. A new message had arrived. It was a video this time. No sound, just a close-up of your glistening pussy being penetrated by the dildo, going in and out, in and out, your fingers caressing your clit. Noah’s cock twitched in his pants, fully hard now. A new message popped in:

Babe [20:33]: Think you would be able to fill another hole? Or should I get another replacement for you?

He furiously typed a reply. If you wanted to play, he was going to play.

Your phone dinged.

Prettyface [20:35]: Replacement? Ha! You wish. Come here right now, and don’t forget to bring your new friend with you.

You looked at your laptop, with Twitch open on his streaming. It was still going on.

You [20:36]: But you’re still on streaming.

Prettyface [20:37]: Who’s the coward now?

You bit your lip hesitantly, looking at your laptop again. The camera showed that the door was not inside the frame, you just had to be sneaky and nobody would know you were there.

Noah didn’t turn around when he felt the door opening, but he backed his chair up a bit, opening some space under the desk. You crawled up to him, getting in that space. He pretended to drop his phone.

“Just a second, guys”, he said. Bending over, he put his face mere inches to yours. “You’ve been a very naughty girl”, he whispered. “To make up for it, you’re gonna suck me off while riding your new toy. And don’t you dare touch yourself or make a sound. Understood?” You eagerly nodded. “Good.”

He straightened himself, phone in hand, and left in on the desk. He lowered the seat and shifted once more, facilitating you pulling his pants and underwear down. His cock was already leaking some pre-cum, angry that it had been teased for so long.

You positioned yourself, guiding the toy back in your cunt, and once it was fully inside you, you took your boyfriend’s cock in your mouth, watching intently at how he reacted. Noah pressed his lips together, muffling a moan.

You kept sucking him, bouncing on the toy, using a hand to stimulate the rest of his shaft, and the other on his thigh to steady yourself. Thank god for microphones that filtered the unwanted noise, because even you were being quiet, there were still some sounds you couldn’t avoid producing, like the wet sound of your mouth over him, or the faint slaps every time you snapped your hips.

He abruptly closed the stream when he was about to cum. One of his hands flew to your head, keeping you in place while he came down your throat with a loud moan he was unable to suppress.

“Happy now?” he asked, still panting.

“Not yet. This was only a sneak peek”, you said, smiling. “I also bought a harness”, you informed him.

“What?” he said, confused.

“For Noah II. You always say you wished you had another cock to fuck my ass at the same time. Now you have it”, you explained.

He reopened the stream, acting like his Internet connection failed. He apologized to his friends, but said he was tired and was going to leave it there for the day.

He took your hand, helping you up and led you to the bedroom, where he proceeded to fuck you nice and hard doggy style, just like you wanted. Having him filling you up like that, in two holes at the same time, was a weird, albeit exciting, new feeling. Not so long after, your orgasm hit you harder than a demolition ball, leaving you exhausted. Noah still thrust a bit more, until he reached the climax too. You collapsed on the bed as soon as he was out of you.

“Okay, Noah II can stay”, he said, his breathing still shallow, his chest still rising rapidly, while lying next to you. “But don’t you ever dare to pull a stunt like that on me again.”

“Don’t ignore me for days at a time, and I won’t feel the need to”, you pointed out.

“Yeah, you’re right. This is pretty much my fault. I am sorry, babe, but I see you now”, he promised you.

“You better see me after what we just did”, you joked. You could almost still feel him inside you, like the ghost of a sensation.

“What about we shower, we clean everything, put on new sheets and go to bed early?” he suggested. “I want us to cuddle for a bit before sleeping.”

“Deal.”

“By the way, you looked so beautiful while I was fucking you, but next time I want to see your face, ok? The dildo goes in your ass, that way I can be on top” he whispered into your ear, once you were under the sheets again and his arm was around your rib cage, hand possessively grabbing one of your boobs.

“Missionary+!” you joked. “Fine by me, you know I love to see your pretty face while you come.”

“Same, babe, same.”

#poppy writes #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fic #noah sebastian

[bangaveragewhitewine]

Pinch Me

After your first date with a familiar face from home, waking up next to Steve feels like something out of a dream. 

or

This is a follow on from Clean Slate but can be read as standalone fic. 

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings/Content: Both you and Steve are in your late-twenties and were in school together; you met again on a blind date almost ten years later. This is an 18+ fic; oral (reader receiving), penetrative sex. Spoiler but use of ‘good girl’ in a sexy content. Steve Harrington being a smooth mf comes with it's own warning.

I have tried to leave physical descriptions as neutral and inclusive as possible! Some mentions of anxiety and insecurity. Plenty of kissing to make up for that! 

Author’s Note: Clean Slate was intended to be a one off fic but here we are! This is my first attempt at smut in a fic, so hopefully it’s not horrendous! Thank you for reading, enjoy!

Thank you to my lovely @specialagentmonkey for beta reading for me💖

Once again, this is an 18+ fic. Please do not do any AI fuckery with my work or repost on other sites.

(divider by me)

Ever since you were little, your bed had been one of your favourite places. Soft sheets, books on the bedside table and a perfectly curated stack of pillows all topped off with the quilt you had made with your grandma before her arthritis got too bad. 

In your mom’s photo albums there was more than one snapshot of you as a sleepy toddler with a wild bed head peeking up from your pillow on Christmas morning. Another few of you reading Nancy Drew in a pillow nest with a gap toothed smile. 

By now, you had made your own little nest out in the big bad world now; a surprisingly roomy studio with big windows and noisy neighbours on one side. You had bought new sheets and a duvet printed with dusty pink roses on porcelain white cotton, curated a new stack of pillows and added too many decorative cushions on top of the same quilt that had made the move with you to Indianapolis and on to Chicago. There were still books on your bedside,  a little dish for your jewellery to sit in while you slept, and an accumulation of lip balms, pillow mist and a candle or two to set the mood. 

After long shifts and bad dates, your bed was still your haven. When you were particularly anxious, you could still hear the shrill of your old alarm blaring in your ears; the sound of that clock that had dragged you from sweet dreams in your beloved bed on chilly winter mornings. Some mornings, as you rode the subway to work, you swore you could hear your bed’s own siren song calling you to get off at the next stop, come home to read and nap the day away. 

The sanctuary was for you alone, save for an occasional sleepover with your best friend Annie. Your dates were never invited to stay and make themselves comfortable. But this morning, waking up with Steve Harrington in your bed? That was new. 

It was safe to say that your blind date went well. Really well. 

You had resolutely avoided talking about school, only mentioning people each other might have remembered in the context of a story about your lives outside Hawkins. Steve was still in touch with a lot of people from home. You recognised some of their names; Robin who grew up a street away from you, Eddie Munson who you knew from art class and the occasional house party in your youth, even Nancy Wheeler. The way he lit up with so much fondness for ‘his kids’ who weren’t kids anymore made your face ache from smiling.

And Steve had listened, wanted to hear how you had liked Indianapolis for college (he had spent some time there too before making the move to Chicago with Robin after Eddie had sussed the place out and found an apartment near his own for them that they still shared). He had asked about your job, your life in the city, and took a real interest in you. 

His attention had stayed on you, never straying to see who else was around or looking for an escape route. His honeyed gaze had stayed focused, watching how you used your hands when you spoke and dipped occasionally to look at your lips. Steve’s hand had stayed close by when his fingers weren’t outright intertwined with yours. He did this thing with his thumb, stroking it across the bone of your wrist, and a few times he had squeezed your hand while you spoke as if to say ‘go on, I’m listening’ - it was so centering for your often anxious mind.

You had a few more drinks, picked a few songs on the jukebox, kept talking and talking until you were sitting close enough to hear Steve’s stomach growl, making his cheeks flush pink. 

“I know a pizza spot close by if you’re hungry?” you suggested. 

“DiFontaines?” Steve smiled a little, nodding at your suggestion. “Yeah I love it. Let’s go.”

Neither of you wanted to end the night yet, say goodbye. So you didn’t. Instead you headed hand in hand into the warm night air, nicely buzzed and in search of hot pizza and crispy cold sodas. 

The sun had dipped in the sky, taking the worst of the heat with it, but the night stayed humid and sticky. Despite the warmth, Steve held your hand and between stories, as you walked down the next block, he lifted his arm to twirl you when you passed a bar blaring Achy Breaky Heart onto the street; Billy Ray’s crooning was eclipsed by your laughter. 

“You’re such a dork,” you giggled, pushing him gently before Steve quickly hugged you against his side again. Never had you felt so comfortable on a first date - but this wasn’t just any blind first date. 

“Dork?! You been talkin’ to Robin?” Steve smiled down at you, sparking heat in your belly. 

“Guess your reputation precedes you, Harrington.” With a burst of bravery, owing it to your younger self, you bounced up on your toes to peck his cheek before taking off a few steps ahead, turning to grin back at him as he jogged to catch up before you swerved into the pizza place. 

You joined the line of late night pizza lovers and Steve had slipped an arm around you, leaned his chin on your head as your heart pounded hard. “So, what’re we getting?” he asked.

The familiarity of it all made you feel fuzzy around the edges, his thumb stroking your shoulder, the heat of him pressed against your side. 

“It’s probably sacrilegious but the New York style slice, veggie or… artichoke.” Feeling brave again you cover his hand with yours and squeezed. “You?”

“Okay so we’re both sinners then.” He hummed, considering his options. “You’re vegetarian right?”

“Yeah, I try to be.” You liked how he had remembered a tiny detail from a story told hours ago.

“Okay. Four cheese then.”

“You sure?” Your interest piqued. 

“Yeah, ‘course. You might not want a goodnight kiss if I have pepperoni breath.”

You swear your jaw dropped as Steve schooled his smile, watching the group of tipsy tourists ahead of you order their slices before his eyes darted back to you. 

Steve was more timid, his voice quieter as he filled the silence between you when you had been too stunned to answer. “It’s also totally fine if you don’t want to kiss me, sweetheart. I know I can lay it on ki-“ 

Instead you rocked up to close the gap between you, ignoring the pinch of your sandals to lay a kiss onto his lips. Steve was quick to cup your cheek, keeping you there to kiss you back just as sweetly. 

His nose has nudged against yours before he let you go, gazing into each other’s eyes until your attention was pulled to ‘order or get out’. His arm had stayed around you as you placed your orders, splitting a third classic deep dish slice between you so you wouldn't be run out of town with torches and pitchforks. 

Full of pizza and soda and bravery, you had taken Steve’s hand again and strolled through the sticky Chicago night, steering him toward your apartment with the guise of proving that the same pink scrunchie you wore in high school was in fact on your bedside table. You both knew what you were really suggesting. 

Part of you niggled away, expecting him to make a polite excuse to head home instead. But Steve only had eyes for you and sealed the deal with another kiss. You lost yourselves in each other, feeling younger together, and made out with Steve’s back against the shutters of somewhere long closed for the night as he squeezed your hips and you toyed with the ends of his hair. It was with regret that he had to tear himself away from your lips to hail a cab for you both, where you did your best to behave on the way to your apartment.

As you lay in bed that next morning, watching how Steve’s chest rose and fell with breath, how soft he looked in sleep, you felt warm and happy. His golden glow was just as dazzling in the morning light.  

Your night together had been unrushed. Steve hadn’t just hit it and quit it with you. No, instead you had kissed and kissed, making out and letting your hands roam like two teenagers except there was no hurry; no seven minute deadline or someone pounding on a guest room door to see if it was occupied. The rumours in school had been true; Steve Harrington was an amazing kisser. You had listened to a friend of a friend rave about his soft lips after a lucky spin the bottle in junior year; now you had tasted him for yourself, you understood why she had brought it up so much. But Steve was in your bed now, not hers, you thought smugly. 

On the way from the couch to your bed, he had unzipped your dress and you made sure his powdery blue shirt wouldn’t be too creased in the morning, draping it over the back of a chair instead of leaving it balled up on the ground. 

Steve had made sure you knew how beautiful he thought you were, kissed you everywhere before taking his time with you and spent an age between your legs as he worked you open for him. Lying there the next morning, you could feel your face heat up when you remembered how his touch set you on fire. The pleasant all over ache weighed you down into your mattress. 

With a messy bed-head, Steve woke a little after you and saw you smiling dreamily to yourself. He reached out to pull you closer, tucking his face into your neck. 

“Mornin’.” His voice was gravelly and deep. 

“Morning.” You brush his hair back gently and dot a kiss to his forehead before stroking your fingers over his shoulders soothingly, dragging them down his arm.  

“S’nice,” he said, lips moving against your neck before he pressed a few kisses there. 

Lying face to face on your pillow, your fingers played with the fine gold chain that settled around his throat, dipping lower into the thick hair on his chest. 

“I had a really good time last night.” Steve’s fingers walk up your arm, before twirling your hair around one carefully. 

When you look up at him, he’s got this little smile on his face. He inches closer, letting his gaze drop to your own smiling mouth before you share a slow morning kiss. 

“Me too,” you whisper, settling your hand on the side of his neck before returning his kiss again. Your fingers skate across and behind the lobe of his ear, the underside of his jaw and the shade of stubble there. 

With his large soft hands, he drags you closer still, pressing you right up against him. The t-shirt you had pulled on after the sweat on your body had started to cool last night was rucked up over your hip as Steve’s thumb strokes the dip there. 

You sigh into his mouth, feeling warm all over despite the chill of your box fan to cool the room down. This morning you're warmed by the heat and glow that radiates from Steve Harrington, hotter than the sun itself. 

“You’re really beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips, shifting his weight so you’re on your back again with one of his thighs slotted between yours. Steve brushes your hair back, fanning it out over the pillow before dipping down to kiss you again. He leaves you breathless before his lips trail lower to your jaw and neck. 

It’s an intimacy you hadn’t had with anyone in a long time, feeling safe enough with Steve to let yourself be loved on like this. You will yourself to be present with him, bask in his glow as it warms you, but barbs of anxiety have crept in to distract you.

Last night was amazing, slow and syrupy and tender. If that had been the last time you ever saw Steve Harrington you could have probably died happy - happier than before anyway. But instead he stayed, and as he kisses you again (morning breath ignored and forgotten). Steve didn’t care that you had faded into the background of your shared high school halls, he had loved how you had the bravery to break out of Hawkins and be you now. 

Steve notices you tensing up and peels himself back, thumbing your cheek again as he says your name. “Do you want me to stop?” he asks, concern in his eyes. It makes your heart ache. 

You shake your head and cover the hand on your cheek. “No. Never.” You pull him to you again and relish the weight of him on top, your hands over his shoulders. “I’m getting in my head. You’re straight out of a dream, Steve. I feel like asking you to pinch me.”

You feel a little embarrassed about being quite so honest with him like this, but he oozes a magnetism and calmness that makes you want to tell him everything. But you don’t want to scare him away, be left waiting for another call that’s not coming, or hear him say ‘that was fun but I’m not looking for anything serious right now’. 

He smiles and leans his weight on one strong arm so he’s not totally crushing you. “I can, if you want. But I promise I’m real. And I’m just some guy.” 

You laugh. “Some guy? Nah Steve, I think you might be some sort of apparition. Or like, a Greek god.” You squeeze his bicep for emphasis. “Definitely dreaming.”

Steve rolls his eyes, playful, and pinches your cheek lightly. “See? Silly.” He presses a kiss to where he pinched before going in for another on your smiling mouth. Steve was not shy or stingy with his kisses, you had learned. You liked that a lot. 

“I think you’re pretty amazing, y’know. If you’re not sick of me yet, would you wanna go for breakfast with me?” Steve kneels up between your thighs, the sheets pooling around his hips. Your eyes go right to the white Calvin’s pulled tight over the thickness of him. Your eyes rake up over his body until you’re caught staring, ogling, and Steve smiles when you pull a pillow over your face. You certainly hadn’t been so shy last night; he laughs and lifts it away to gaze down at you, hoping you will say yes. 

“C’mere. Then you can take me for breakfast.” You coax him back down, hooking one leg over his hip. “Prove to me again that you’re not just in my imagination?”

Steve grins and rolls himself down over you. “You been imagining me like this? Scandalous,” he teases before resuming his kisses from earlier, which you are eager to return. Your bodies move together, hips tilting toward each other seeking out that pressure that makes your tummy sizzle. As Steve’s hands slip under your sized-up sleep shirt again, your own dips down to cup him through his underwear. His breath hitches, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Baby…” 

Baby. 

You smile and repeat the movement firmer this time before beginning to coax him to hardness, breaking your hold on him only to help him remove your tshirt. It’s lost to the floor along with Steve’s briefs. His breath is hot against your mouth as your bodies press together. The feeling of Steve’s hands on your breasts draws out a whine that’s swallowed by another kiss; his hands are so big and they feel like they are everywhere, like Steve is everywhere. His mouth and hands trail lower, spreading you out for him on your dusty rose bedsheets. He cups you there, thumb swiping in a delicious rhythm that has you gasping against his shoulder. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, kissing the tops of your breasts. “Let me hear those pretty noises again, baby. Please?” 

You whimper as his fingers ease you open, so gentle like the polite ‘please’. Steve had proven he was a talker already last night, his words making you feel hot all over as he had pushed so carefully inside, turning tipsy giggles into needy gasps. You felt the same heat engulf you now as he lay wet kisses to your tummy, your hips, pausing only so that he could lie comfortably between your thighs after shouldering his way between them. 

He’s looking up at you, his cheek against the meat of your thigh. Lips curve into a smile when you meet his gaze, and he closes his eyes when you stroke his hair back. One of his hands takes yours and rests together on your belly as he dips to kiss you where you need him, humming against you when you gasp his name. 

Your eyes drop closed, fireworks bursting behind them as he makes you feel so good. The once or twice any other man had done this was lacklustre in skill and enthusiasm, which Steve possessed in every cell of his being. When you chance looking at him you spot his hips shifting against the mattress, chasing relief for his own ache which makes you moan louder. His whispered “good girl” sends your eyes rolling back into your skull. 

Steve brings you to your peak quicker than anyone ever had before. Mindful that you might be a little tender from the night before as he presses one long and thick finger inside before a second joins it a few moments later, gentle but with a purpose of making you forget your own name. His shoulder presses firm against your thigh, spreading you wider as his fingers pump steadily, keeping the pace and press against the spot inside you that makes you feel fit to explode. 

You squeeze his arm while your capacity for coherent speech vanishes, focusing only on the swirl and suck of his mouth and the crook and curl of his fingers. It’s so sudden, and you swear you’ve never made a noise so loud as you moan for him, trembling all over. He whispers his praise against your thigh before bringing his mouth back to where you’re weeping for him and doesn’t stop until your thighs are crushing his ears, muffling your voice. 

Chest heaving, you feel him move up to check on you. He brings you close, holding you as you glow with him and presses feathery kisses to your hairline. “You still with me? Not still dreaming about me?” 

“Mm, think I died,” you manage, peeking up at him with teary eyes. Another tender kiss to the dopey smile on your lips. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, sweetheart.” 

His grin is deservedly cocky, earning himself the warm grasp of your hand around his length. The prettiest frown graces his face as you squeeze and slowly pump your hand, your lips moving to his neck. 

Steve’s gaze moves from your face, dragging down your body to where your hand holds him. His size makes your hand look small and you feel the kick of his arousal on your palm. You manage to swing one wobbly leg over him, sitting on the breadth of his thighs with new confidence as he holds you steady. 

You lean across him, earning kisses to your chest as you fish for a condom to rip open and roll on to him before lowering yourself down into his lap. 

Sinking your teeth into the fat of your lower lip at the stretch of him, Steve huffs out a breathy swear against your chest. His hands settle on your hip and thigh, grounding and never rushing as you breathe into the feeling of him inside you before beginning to move. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs, watching you in awe. “So pretty f’me.”

That spurs you on, chasing the tingle deep in your abdomen. Your fingers lace with Steve’s on your thigh, the other hand braced against the wall behind his shoulder. 

His head leans back by your hand, turning to kiss your wrist as you move in his lap. You curl your arm around him, bringing each other close as his hips hitch up to meet you. 

“So good, baby,” he murmurs, kissing you again as his breath comes quicker now. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

Gasping his name, you hold him tight to you as you move together. He can’t take his eyes off of you, “Good girl, so gorgeous.” 

Messy kisses broken by gasps and Steve’s praise are traded back and forth. His hands feel huge where they hold you at your waist. 

The cord of pleasure deep in your pelvis winds tighter. Steve’s jaw twitches as he holds on to you, and you kiss the tense muscle before whispering, “You make me feel so good.” The sound he makes is almost a whimper and he squeezes the meat of your ass. Your hips continue their rise and roll, you feel like every cell of your body is aflame. 

Steve watches you, praising words fanning the fire low in your belly. The burn in your thighs makes you pause and he takes the chance to kiss you stupid again. 

“Feel good? Yeah?” When you nod, feeling spaced out, he pecks your swollen lips and whispers, “Let me take care of you, sweetheart.” You wonder if he lets anyone take care of him, return his generosity and affections. 

He is so gentle as he holds you to his chest and slouches lower on the bed. You close your eyes at the feeling of being held like this, cheek to his broad shoulder. His feet are flat and firm on the bed and the experimental thrust up into you makes you sigh his name. Steve sweeps your hair to one side so that he can kiss your neck again, checking in with you before continuing. 

His name echoes on your bedroom walls as he grazes the elusive spot inside of you; the way you press right against his pelvis gives a rub of friction that makes lightning zing through your limbs. “That’s it. Huh? Right there?” His voice is tight as he drives up into you again, faster now with the new angle. 

You can hardly summon the sense to make a sentence, babbling now with how good he’s making you feel, the occasional broken curse or plea. After last night and this morning, the neighbours won’t be happy or forget Steve’s name anytime soon - not that you give a fuck. 

You kiss him again, though now you’re both so far gone it’s messy and needy, hot breaths against each other’s cheeks. The lick of his tongue against yours makes you shiver. You feel ready to burst, pleasure building as his hips drive up hard into you

With the feeling of him so deep inside of you, you fall over the edge again. The feeling of your orgasm, clenching and fluttering and soaking, drags him with you, groaning against your neck when his hips slam and stutter still. His arms are tight around you, both heaving deep breaths together. 

Steve eases you both down onto your sides, tangled together. You feel dazed and heavy but the stroke of Steve’s fingers on your hip, his hot breath on your collarbone grounds you until the sounds of Chicago on a Saturday morning remind you that this wasn’t a dream. 

“You okay? That.. Jesus…” Steve’s voice is breathy, but you hear his smile. 

“Yeah. I’m…amazing.”

“Yeah, you are.” 

There’s comfortable silence as you both come back to earth. 

After a few moments Steve dots kisses to your cheeks, forehead and nose before he eases out of you to bin the full condom. Soon you’re back in bed with him, held safe in his arms. His cheeks are pink and you want to squeeze them. 

“You’re so gorgeous, Steve.” Your fingers brush over the moles dotted along his cheekbone, and he catches your hand to kiss your fingers sweetly in distraction. “Hey. Look at me, Harrington.”

“Back to Harrington?” he teases, looking into your eyes with faux intensity to make you giggle. “M’lookin’.”

“Steve. Steven.” You match his teasing with pretend-seriousness.

“Not Steven. Please, baby.” His mouth turns down, exaggerating his unhappiness with you, but the stroke of his fingers on your hip say otherwise.

“Ms O’Donnell called you Steven.”

“Please don’t bring O’Donnell up while my dick is still out.”

You both dissolve into giggles, pressing your face against the chain on his chest. “Shut up, she had that much of an effect on you?! Calling you Steven gets you all worked up? Okay perv, good to know.”

“You’re sick in the head.” His voice is shaky with laughter against your hair. “S’a good thing you’re cute.”

“Mhm. Definitely a sicko. Two cute sickos.” You take his face in your hands again. “You’re a great date Steve Harrington.”

He smiles, but it falls a little - you just about catch it. It makes your heart hurt. Your inability to just say that you don’t want this to be a one time thing makes you want to pull your own hair out. 

“I do my best. I had so much fun with you. I’m just kinda… sick of first dates though. Yknow?” 

“I do know. But that’s not how last night felt.” 

There’s a flash of recognition in his eyes as he nods. 

“Definitely helped that we had a bit of a head start on the ‘where are you from?’ shit..” There’s a twinkle of playfulness in his heart wrenching sincerity. 

“I hate that part.” You look into his eyes. It makes your chest flutter, how he looks at you.

“I know we didn’t know each other all that well in school..”

“Since kindergarten.” Your shrug is tiny, you smile playfully as he groans. 

“Since kindergarten. Shit. What’ve I been doing all this time…” he asks the ceiling.

“Same as me. Getting out of Hawkins. Going on crappy dates...” 

“Mm, true. Growing up, I guess.” He’s quiet for a moment, “Last night wasn’t crappy. Best date I’ve been on in a long long time.”

“Me too. I think I’ll let you take me out again, if you want to…” you say, whispering bravely as you act all playful despite your hammering heart. 

The smile on Steve’s face makes the butterflies in your stomach swoop again. You weren’t the only one who felt so dimmed by dating around, having your heart broken. There’s a beat of silence, charged electric as Steve looks at your lips and you touch his chain again. 

“You like pancakes, or waffles?” Steve’s eyes twinkle. 

You squeeze the bulk of his bicep. “French toast.”

His head tips back in laugh, showing off his delicious throat. “Oh she’s fancy?”

“She is.” 

He leans in to kiss you in more time. “I can do fancy, baby.” 

“You’ve done fancy twice. Fancy is hungry, Steve.”

Your laughter echoes in the golden morning light that fills your room as his fingers skate over your ribs, finding the ticklish spots before he hauls you as close as possible again. 

Steve’s nose presses against your cheek, smooching one more kiss there before sitting up to find his pants. As you stargaze at the constellation on his broad back, you think this might just be the start of something really amazing.

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[angellayercake]

face down in décolletage - chapter 1

Papa Emeritus IV x Fem Reader | NSFW | AO3

Disclaimer: Copia talking about being face down in tits has all the feminism leaving my body. I am sorry but he can leer at my boobs any day and I would thank him. So TW for Copia being a fucking perv and kind of degrading but if you are into that we are golden!

For @ghostchems for being feral with me 💜💜 love you!

With a dramatic puff you try to blow the hair sticking to your face away. It was so damn hot today you would rather be anywhere but at work but here you are. Another day, another show. You glance down at your clipboard, Ghost. You think you have heard of them, some kind of religious band from a church. When you had first started working at the venue you used to enjoy excitedly researching all the bands that passed through but now you just looked forward to getting through the night. As you scan down your clipboard you notice your top has ridden down again. You glance around quickly and yank it back up hoping that none of the guys noticed the blue frills of your bra peeking out the top. 

Maybe if you had got up earlier you would have had time to pick a different outfit or even check the weather forecast but as you had rolled out of bed and straight into the only clean clothes you had left you were stuck wearing your most revealing vest top with your most ridiculous push up bra. You had to live with the consequences of your lack of organisation combined with the stifling heat wave that had you sweating in even the little you were wearing. You just had to deal with it. 

The sounds of the buses pulling in draws your attention from your wardrobe woes and back to the job at hand, which for you is making sure the band stay happy for the duration of their stay at the venue. Their rider had been prepared and set up for them and you would be on hand to help them with anything else they needed. You hoped these guys weren’t dicks, there had been a run of assholes recently that had the stupidest demands but that was the job. You watch them pile out onto the forecourt all dressed in black and wearing helmets? Masks? You can’t quite see but they all huddle together just off to the side not approaching the manager who had stepped up to greet them.

A commotion from the bus draws everyone's eyes from the group of strangely dressed musicians and you see the frontman of this band for the first time. He was wearing a burgundy tracksuit, a fake designer shirt and leather brogues. And he had just dropped an armful of juice boxes as he tripped out the bus. He knelt down scrambling to pick them all up, fumbling with the broken packaging until one of the masked people must have taken pity on him, letting him pile them up in their arms. He looks up only now taking notice of all the eyes trained on him. As he straightens up he offers an awkward wave and a forced smile until the venue manager steps forward and introduces themselves. 

After a brief conversation you notice them making their way down the line of staff, which although not unheard of was unusual. The band manager would usually meet with venue staff not the talent but he must have insisted on being introduced to everyone. He shakes people's hands and gestures to the musicians behind him. You glance down at your clipboard as you wait your turn. Papa Emeritus IV and the eight Nameless Ghouls. He was the frontman and leader of the band and the Nameless Ghouls were instrumentalists. Your attention snaps back up when they reach the person beside you and you get your first proper look at him.

He’s not much taller than you and it’s hard to see much of his body under the baggy tracksuit but his face. He was oddly handsome, perfectly proportioned with strong features and carefully slicked back salt and pepper hair. The face paint he wore only accentuated his unusual mismatched eyes. But as he approaches you notice his gaze doesn’t land anywhere near your face. No he is looking directly at your boobs, with his mouth hanging open no less. You know they are very visible today but this middle aged man is gawping at you like a teenager seeing a porn mag for the first time. You clear your throat offering him your hand and he looks up at your face at last. Realising he had been caught a fetching blush grows across his cheeks that you find slightly adorable in spite of his leering. He takes your hand but as you attempt to shake it he tries to bring it up to his face. The back of your hand ends up squashed against his nose and you can feel his lip paint smudging on you. He drops your hand so quickly the momentum swings it away from you and his face is almost as red as his tracksuit when he moves on. What an odd man.  

You don’t see him much for the rest of the day, you are kept so busy keeping the ‘Nameless Ghouls’ in line. They are a fun bunch, quite mischievous but polite in spite of it all. The few times you do see him you can feel his eyes all over you and you find your annoyance building. What was with this guy? You had since discovered that he was the leader of not only this very satanic rock band but also the associated religious organisation, he was well into his fifties and while he was attractive you had to admit he was really quite odd. You shrug it off though. There was only an hour left until the show and although your manager would help you if you complained, something, you weren’t sure what, was stopping you. 

By the time the supporting act had finished it was all hands on deck to get the transition completed smoothly. Your arms are full of the discarded outfits of the supporting band so you can get them to the laundry when you pass by his dressing room but you are so consumed with your thoughts you fail to notice when the door opens and he steps out in front of you. You collide into him with a bump dropping everything that was piled in your arms at his feet.  

‘Papa Emeritus! I’m so sorry.’ It is not lost on you that you are now taking your turn to fumble around on the floor in front of him or that where he is standing above you gives him a perfect view down your top. Your arms full once again you kneel slowly, noticing all the differences about him as you go. The scuffed brogues are gone, replaced with perfectly shined expensive looking boots. His slim calves were covered in tight denim which clung all the way up his legs. His thighs were covered in ripped fabric that did nothing to hide the shape of them. It’s lucky your hands are full because just as he seemed unable to not look at your tits you might not be able to resist running your hands up his thighs and... Your mouth goes dry when you notice the lace up fly on his trousers but you stop that thought short. 

His jacket, while interesting, as distressed as his trousers with dramatic gold detailing and epaulettes, it's his face that captures your attention. He reaches down helping you back to your feet and as you stand you just stare taking in all the details of his stark black and white face paint. He is transformed, not just in how he looks although his painted face and sharp clothes differ so much from earlier. No, his whole demeanour has shifted. His nervous smile is replaced by an easy confident smirk when you meet his eyes, clearly having noticed your appraisal of him. 

‘You better be coming to watch the show cara mia.’ he says as he begins to walk away from you. Occasionally you do find time to catch the performances more often you are busy all evening but the way he says it feels like an order more than a request

‘I will try after I have finished my …’ he spins back round fixing you with a demanding look. 

‘No you will. I am not asking.’ He steps towards you, close to boxing you in against the closed door of his dressing room. ‘Your job is to make me happy, no? And what will make me happy is you watching the show from the side where I tell you.’ His proximity and commanding tone broker no argument so you just nod in agreement but he doesn’t give you room, just raises his eyebrows as if to communicate he is still waiting.  

‘Yes Papa.’ you breath hoping that was the answer he was waiting for. 

‘Bene, I will look for you cara, do not disappoint me.’ Only then does he stalk off with only a few minutes to spare. 

With the threat of his disappointment hanging over you you rush through the last of your tasks before making your way to the stage. He is waiting to the side as the last checks are completed. You don’t approach him as he seems to be deep in his preparations but he spots you as he paces, nodding and pointing to an out of the way area where you still have a good view. You can hear the crowd cheering in anticipation and in only a few minutes the lights go down and the music starts to swell. He has kept up his pacing back and forth, occasionally jogging on the spot as he waits for his cue. Your attention is drawn to the stage as the pyrotechnics soar and the guitars kick in and then running up to the centre of the stage in the midst of it all is him.

The show could only be described as mesmerising. Both Papa and the Ghouls had the crowd in the palm of their hand as they performed song after song. The costume changes and confetti, the smoke and the sparks, you couldn’t look away. You almost wished you were down in the audience so you could experience it properly. However there was one particular benefit to your position and that was having a clear view of Papa’s wardrobe. Everytime he hurried back for a new outfit or prop you received a smile or a wink and as time went on more and more heated looks. You weren’t entirely sure why he had wanted you there but you got the feeling you would enjoy whatever it was. 

He had announced their last song to cries of despair from the crowd but that only seemed to spur them on giving a rousing performance and he left the stage to a roar of appreciation. The ghouls continued playing as he ducked into the wardrobe for the last time, shrugging off the black jacket he was currently wearing in exchange for a dazzling blue sequined one. It reflected the light even in the dark corner of the stage you were both in. Instead of running back on stage though, this time he approached you.

‘Now there is something I need your help with cara mia, please follow me.’ He takes your hand and pulls you with him towards the narrow backstage corridor.  It is very rarely used now but it was originally for performers to get from one side of the stage to the other with no hindrance but what he could need your help with here you had no idea. About halfway down he stops suddenly manoeuvring you between him and the wall in the narrow corridor

‘You hear them all screaming for me cara mia?’ He asks with a smirk. He knows full well you can hear the screaming that's why you have your ear protectors slung around your neck. His arm rests on the wall above your head bringing him so close you can feel the heat radiating off of him, and smell the spicy scent of his cologne and his exertion. He’s taller than earlier, his fancy boots giving him a boost so although he is far from towering over you, this close you need to make an effort to look up at him as you speak. 

‘You must be happy, knowing that all those thousands of people enjoyed your show.’ It is quite obvious where this conversation is headed but you are curious to see how exactly he plans to proposition you when the memory of him fumbling his juice boxes is so fresh in your memory.

‘Si that should make me happy but really there is only one person I want to hear screaming tonight.’ His piercing mismatched eyes burn into yours and you know he is talking about you. You almost can’t breathe from the intensity and you wonder how this could be the same man as earlier. The only real similarity is the way his eyes trail down from your face all the way to your cleavage. Forcing yourself to finally take a deep breath you watch his eyes follow the rise and fall of your chest and you feel an unexpected heat rising within you. You weren’t a stranger to men staring at your boobs, it kind of came with the territory and usually someone staring this blatantly would earn a slap, but you enjoyed his eyes on you and it only made you want more, as it had all day. He leans in until he is close enough to whisper directly in your ear. 

‘Would you like this? A little after party just for us?’ His voice is low and seductive and you are only really able to hear him because he is so close you are almost touching. ‘For me to give you your own private performance, show you all my best moves then make you scream for me?’ Without saying much of anything at all he paints such a vivid picture and you want all of it. You could feel his painted lips brushing your ear ever so slightly as you leaned in and you knew what your answer was going to be. 

‘I … yes. Please.’ You feel his mouth pull into a grin as he steps even closer, his body flush with yours. You expect him to move to do something but he just continues to look at you, eyes burning into your already flushed and overheated skin. The leer he is giving you as he looks down your top shouldn’t be making you feel this way and yet you find yourself somehow desperate for the touches that look threatens. 

‘Thank you, cara,’ he pinches your chin tilting it up to just the right angle so that he can slot his mouth against yours, except he doesn’t. No he locks you in with his gaze, keeping you hypnotised and still as he ghosts his lips across your cheek and down your neck and as his lips finally make contact at the juncture of your neck and collar bone do you realise that he was just positioning you to get unhindered access to your chest. But as he settles his hands on your waist and begins to gently suck your sensitive skin you can’t even bring yourself to be annoyed. 

You lean your head back against the wall behind you and let your eyes drop closed so you can just concentrate on the feeling of his mouth on you. He nibbles along your collarbone soothing the marks with his tongue as he goes before dipping lower. He moans as his lips meet the curve of your breast and he stops, sucking a deep mark right in the centre before sinking his teeth into your soft flesh. It’s not deep and he doesn’t seem intent on inflicting pain on you, just feeling your body give way to him. You find your fingers woven in his hair not sure whether your intention was to push him away or pull him further in but you do neither and just let him take what he wishes. As he finishes marking you he licks a trail following the curve down into your cleavage and back up to the other side, peppering kisses everywhere he can reach. 

‘Mmmm,’ he moans as if he was eating his favourite meal. ‘So good cara mia, so perfect.’ He slides his hands up from your waist until they are cupping your breasts, spreading them apart so there is just enough room to bury his face between them. His moans are muffled in his new position but that doesn’t stop you noticing him getting louder. His hands start a slow massaging squeeze that has you moaning, turning into a whine when he stops, hooking his fingers into the top of your bra and pulling back to look at you. The heat and his touches have turned your brain to mush so it takes you a moment to realise he is asking you a question and a moment longer to register what it is. 

‘May I?’ he asks, starting to pull at your already revealing neckline. You can feel his knuckles brushing your nipples and you can only imagine how much better it will feel if you allow him full access. He is watching you intently so he catches your slight nod and slowly reveals them to his hungry eyes letting your top and bra bunch up just underneath like he doesn’t have the patience to wait to remove them properly. You watch his eyes light up as he sees your pierced nipples, the small gems glinting as you move even in the harsh light of the corridor. 

‘Così bella mia cara,’ he whispers as he ghosts his mouth over you, the tip of his tongue flicking at one nipple then the other. He grins up at you as you gasp, his teasing touch feeling almost too much already. You think back to a moment ago when you compared him to all the other men that you caught gawping at your cleavage. You had been so wrong. Never had you had such attention lavished on you, turning you to putty in his hands just from this. He sealed his lips around a nipple, sucking it into his mouth and toying with the piercing with his tongue and the other he rolled between his fingers twisting and pulling and pinching. Your fingers tighten in his hair, encouraging him closer. He pulls off your nipple with a pop, kissing and licking across until his whole face is between them finally relinquishing your other nipple so he can push them together while shaking his head back and forth. 

‘Papa?,’ another voice intrudes into your consciousness and you all of a sudden remember where you are and who you are with and the thousands of people waiting for an encore. You try to jump away from him but you are so securely pinned between him and the wall. He pulls away just as the footsteps get closer tucking you back into your top. His face paints are surprisingly intact although there are grey smudges all over you there is no hiding what was being done to you. ‘Papa,’ the stage assistant says as they round the corner and find you. ‘They are all still here calling for more.’

‘Excuse my cara. I am needed,’ he winks at you, gesturing for the assistant to go on ahead. He steps towards you pining you back in place tilting your chin up to force you to look at him once again. ‘But if you want to continue this, be in my dressing room at the end of the show.’ He turns on his heel heading in the same direction only to pause before he rounds the corner. ‘And I want you undressed.’ You are surprised your knees hadn’t buckled yet you were so worked up, the possibilities of what would happen if you followed his instructions buzzing in your mind. 

The crescendo of screams as he walks back on the stage breaks you from your reverie, and forces you into action. You don’t even need to think, the decision already made by your racing heart and your wet pussy. You push off the wall knowing you only have three songs to follow his instructions but you don’t need to rush just yet as you can still hear him addressing the crowd. Exiting the corridor on the other side of the stage you listen for a moment. He hushes their screams so he can banter with them for a moment.

‘I was already at the after show party,’ He says gesturing behind him to the fictional afterparty. You laugh to yourself starting to head towards the dressing room so you can get ready for what you are sure is going to be a memorable night. But the next words out of his mouth freeze you on the spot. ‘You know I had my face down in some decolletage and someone said that they are still all here.’ A laugh barks out of you in disbelief. That smug sexy bastard! 

#papa emeritus iv x reader #copia x reader #the band ghost fic #the band ghost fanfiction #my writing

[sits-bound]

Bound: All the Young Dudes by MsKingBean89

Well THIS took a long time.

I started typesetting it months ago. It's so long with a lot of chapters, and a lot of details. At first I split it into three volumes, but one would have been way longer than the others, so I resplit it into four, which I like, but just made it take that much longer.

Compared to the typesetting, binding it was a breeze. I purposely did not put any color on the inside so that I could just print it out on my laser printer. I put that thing through a workout! I had to stop and let it rest quite a bit. Poor buddy. Everything went smoothly with the folding and the punching and the sewing. I had fun making the end papers.

So lovely and clean and straight!

And then.

Then.

See, I was going to sand the edges instead of putting it through the guillotine. I even bought a power hand sander a few weeks ago. I was going to embrace the sawtooth, just sand the top and bottom a bit.

But for SOME reason I decided to trim the edges and, well, that was a big mistake.

Nothing ended up square. Everything shifted while cutting. The best I can say is that no text got cut off in the making of these binds.

As I was creating the cases, I realized that the boards (which I also cut with the guillotine) were not square either. It was all such a mess. But in the end, the text blocks fit within their cases, just not squarely. So looking at the outside of the set, you'd never know they're all cattywampus inside.

Moony says they look fine.

Oh, lovely!

Well, let's take a peek at the inside, shall we? I'm going to put them under a cut because it's a horror show.

Well, the endpapers are cute.

Oh that's not so bad!

OH GOD

Moony does not like this, though.

What's a "square"?

So, there you have it. Sigh.

Fonts: Chapters and titles: Krifon Body: Miller Display

This was supposed to be a gift for a friend, but I'm going to make a paperback version next and let her decide which one she wants.

#fanbinding #ficbinding #bookbinding #sits bound #all the young dudes #wolfstar #marauders

[gojo-mochi]

hey hey! could I request for the kinktober event vampire!mihawk or demon!crocodile? also, can you put some smut and some extra spices? Like maybe mihawk getting completly adicted on readers blood? tx dear, hope ya have a good day!!

CW: Fem!reader with dress. Blood drinking (ofc), Mention of weed usage, cockwarming, fingering, p/v cowgirl position, Mihawk calls you a bitch once, overstimulation. Vampire powers. Hints of Yandere!Mihawk. 

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! Hope you enjoy it! From my kinktober event! 

Word Count: 3.7k 

You decided that you had enough of the sweaty dancing bodies on the first floor of the mansion. Bumping and pushing your way into the crowd, almost elbowing a guy in the stomach for not getting the hint that you did not want him to grind on you. Sweat dripped down your cheek as you eventually made it to the stairwell. Exploring the second floor only to find that most of the room was already occupied from the noises you were hearing. Sounds like most of them were having a good time as well. Sighing, you took your weary leg up another flight of stairs, up to the third floor of the mansion.

Finding this floor to be relatively empty, only a couple of stoners laze around the hallway or some of the open rooms you peeked in. The heavy smoke wafting through the air was enough for you to be feeling woozy, stumbling your way further down the floor and finding an empty hallway leading to a grand set of double doors. You push on it and shuffle your way in, taking in a deep breath of clean air. Enjoying how you could breathe easily without coughing your lungs out now. You rub your eyes as you take a clear look at the room you were in, lines of shelves filled with various books enter your vision.

Of course, the weird old creepy mansion has a grand library in it. It was eerily quiet in the library, you half-expected some old decrepit librarian lady to come and shush you as you shut the door behind you, the hinges creaking loudly. A sign that no one has used this place in a long while, if the small coating of dust bunnies on the bookshelves weren’t evidence enough. Still, it was better than the other hallway, a little bit of dust never hurt anyone anyway. You decided to stay here for a while, eyeing the titles of books as you walk further into the library.

“Science, History, Math too? Was the owner a teacher or something?” You ponder your thoughts out loud as you read some of the titles that caught your eye. “The Adventure of the long-nosed Liar, 101 ways to scam someone, How to Cook Oden, Finding the One Piece in your life….”  None of these really interested you, your eyes were so focused on scanning the Shelves that you didn’t realize that there was someone else in the library with you. Someone who has been watching you the entire time, from the moment you stepped into the library, his piercing golden eyes were trained on you. 

Mihawk would usually just use his power to convince anyone who finds the library to leave immediately, he wasn't about to let anyone ruin his safe haven. Annoyed that he got tricked by a certain red-haired- drunk into even coming to this party. However, when you came in, he was taken aback by your mouth-watering scent. So he stayed back, carefully watching your every move like a hawk. You were dressed as a murder victim or that’s what he believed at least, a white collared dress splatter in fake blood. He knew it was fake from the awful chemical smell that was coming from it. It was a simple costume for someone who also didn’t really want to attend this party either. 

Mihawk licks his lips as he thought about painting your dress with real blood instead, covering that awful synthetic smell with your sweet honeyed aroma instead. The fake blood was too lightly colored anyway, real blood would be a nice richer color, like the color of his favorite bottle of wine. These thoughts swirl in his head as he continues to observe your actions, scrunching up his nose as you come across some vampire themed novels. How ironic he thought silently, seeing you picked a book called “Marked by the Vampire '', raising an eyebrow in curiosity when your heartbeat quickens a bit when you skimmed through the book.

The book you just picked up just so happened to be a raunchy and steamy romance novel, one of those that the ladies in book clubs will absolutely fawn and gossip over for days. You landed on a page right in the middle of a sex scene. The poor innocent village girl who was taken captive by the dark and broody vampire was now being pinned underneath him, your eyes glued to the pages as you read on; “His fangs grazed her neck, not yet puncturing in, just a light tease. His hands groped down on her body, feeling her terrified nerves with every single moment he made. She gasps out as one of his hands roam under her dress, pulling it up and-”

“You seem quite captivated by this book, it must be an interesting read.” A rich and mysterious voice spoke out from behind you. You drop the book instantly, turning back to come face to face with a tall dark-haired stranger. He was dressed like some sort of slutty vampire? If you had to take a guess, that is, considering that he was wearing a high-collared dark cape, a brimmed feather hat, and those fancy high-waisted pants. But no shirt, so you were free to ogle at his extremely toned abs and his also very muscular arms when he bends down to pick up the fallen book.

Muscles and ogling aside, how long has he been here for anyway? Were you just too absorbed into reading to notice someone come in? The door’s hinges should have alerted you with how loud they creaked earlier. Or was he in here the whole time and you just never noticed? It gave you a dreadful feeling in the pits of your stomach. You were alone, far away from the rest of the party, with a stranger who looked like he could pick you up by the throat with one hand. You nervously start to shift away a bit from him, only for him to stop you with one glance down of his golden eyes. 

His calloused hands held the book open, right on the page where you left it. “Planning on leaving so soon? It looked like you were enjoying this book, apologize if I startled you.” His eyes switched back to the book and its pages, you could see the small movement of his pupils as he browsed over the text. “Very interesting read, I can see why you were so engrossed in it.” His facial expression was neutral but his tone gave away his thoughts on it, it had a teasing lilt to it and something else you couldn’t put your finger on. 

You chuckled out shakily, shrugging your shoulders back in reply. “I just didn’t notice you came in here that’s all. Or were you here before me? Anyway, I was just bored and the book looked like it was fun but that doesnt mean I was that into it!” A delicate blush rushes up to your face as you try to defend yourself, being caught reading something smutty and enjoying it by a handsome guy. Mihawk’s eyes narrowed upon seeing your blush, he could practically hear the rush of blood in your veins at this point. He chuckles out himself, “No need to be ashamed now, my dear. Everyone has needs, don’t they? I know I certainly do. Ah, How about this then? Since we both don’t seem to be fond of the party, why don't we find something fun to do here.” 

You noticed that he didn’t answer your questions but your mind was getting fuzzier by the minute, was the weed hitting out this late or something. Mihawk took a couple of steps towards you, his free cupping your cheek gently, running a thumb over your skin. “We can even recreate some of the scenes in this book, if you so like, my dear.” His eyes seemed to bore right into your soul, your body froze up, but your skin felt like it was gonna melt from how fast it was heating up. Mihawk throws the book behind him, leaning his head down to your neck. 

His hand on your cheek, forcibly tilting your head back so he could have more access to your pretty little neck. He wasn’t planning on drinking anyone's blood at this party, thinking that no one’s who would go to a party like this would have blood worth drinking. But you prove him wrong, still he wasn’t one to keep a victim or drain them completely. He finds it bothersome to have someone around all the time and getting rid of a body was equally bothersome as well. He would just do his standard routine of mind control and taking some blood and leave you somewhere else on the floor.

Erasing your memories of him and having you believe that you just got blacked out drunk. Clean, simple and cut, no need for anything fancy or extra work. Simple… that what he thought this was going to be, until he finally got a taste of your blood. His fangs sink in so easily, like slicing into a cake, the first savor of your sweet crimson nectar on his tongue had Mihawk moaning shamelessly. Sinking his fangs in even deeper than he usually does. His tongue flicked rapidly to lap up every single drop. 

Mihawk then lets go of you with another debauched groan coming from his throat. Your blood dripped down the side of his face and chin. The spell on your mind gradually loses its powers, your eyes blink reality back into existence slowly. Mihawk was wiping away your blood with a handkerchief when your mind snapped back together, you stumbled backwards and fell ungracefully on your ass. Scrambling away from your attacker, holding the two bleeding holes in your neck with a shaky hand. 

Mihawk was in shock, he never lost control like this before, but you… you were different from all the others he ever drank from. Comparing their blood to yours would be like comparing pig swill to a bottle of Domaine de la Romanée-Conti Grand Cru 1945. He couldn't let you get away so easily, but he wasn't going to resort to savagery. No, he had other ways to get you to submit, it should be easy, after all, he could smell your arousal leaking down on your panties…

He finished wiping away at his face, pocketing his handkerchief away and bending down on one knee and reaching out a hand to you. “Apologies once more, my dear. This has never happened… happened to me before.” It sounded like he was apologizing for cumming too early, not for freaking biting your neck! You glare at the hand he was offering to you, but you still stopped your escape plan for now. “I don’t know if a simple apology is gonna cut it for trying to kill me, you know.” You hiss out at him, swatting away his hand when it comes closer like a cat. 

Mihawk’s eyes widened by a fraction for a small second. “I wasn’t trying to kill you, my dear. I just wanted a taste but it seems that your blood was far more appetizing than I thought. Still, I would never kill you.” ‘You’re far too special for that.. And I have other things in mind for you…’ Mihawk levels his facial expression to look more docile, reaching out his hand once again. “I propose a deal, you let me drink some of your blood and I’ll make this night into an unforgettable experience for you.” He even gave you a small smile at the end, the slight quirk of his lips was enough to make you clench your thighs together.

Damn him and his handsome face…”What do you mean by ‘unforgettable experience’ exactly?” This time as Mihawk’s hand comes towards you, you decide to take it, his other hand swooping down to the small of your back to help lift you back up to your feet. He angles his head a bit towards you as he answers; “You know, my dear. I can tell how wet you got from earlier. My senses tell me that you crave in a different way. I can help take care of that for you, in simple exchange. A treat for a treat, shall we say? No tricks here.” 

His smooth sultry travels to your ear all the way down to your core. Could you really trust a stranger, lest alone a Vampire, to keep his word? You’re weren’t exactly sure but you when are you ever going to get the chance to fuck a vampire? You could just blame your poor choices on the copious amount of second-hand weed you inhaled on this floor. You licked your lips, looking back up at the vampire. “Could I at least get your name first?” You asked shyly, feeling more anxious and embarrassed that he could tell how aroused you were by him. 

Mihawk dips his head down to scrape his fangs over the pulse point of your neck. “Call me Mihawk, and you, my dear?” His hands grope at your sides, making you squeak out your name quietly. Mihawk runs his fangs over your neck once more, whispering your name over the bare skin. Then he pulls away from you, his pupils blown wide and lightly grabbing at your wrist as he leads you further in the library to a small corner with a couch in it. 

He sits down on it first, spreading his thigh out wide as he tugs on your wrist to make you come in between them. His hands back on your side as he purrs out; “I should warm up my meal first, right?” “You know, I really don't appreciate being called tha-ohhHah!” Your complaints got whisked away as Mihawk’s fingers went under your dress and palmed at your panties. His fingers pressing down heavily on the wet spot in the middle. 

His fingers pulled your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to the cold air and his strangely cold fingers as well. As he runs his fingers over your slick folds, your arousal drips down on his hand. He plunges in his digits into you, easily finding that spot that made your knees buckle. Your own hands grab onto Mihwak’s shoulder for balance, as he starts to find a good pace in and out of your pussy. The squelching noises echoed loudly in the eerily quiet library, your cries bouncing off the walls and back to you. “Mmff-fuc-fuck!” Mihwak kept going at an unrelenting pace, bullying your cute pussy, his wrist slapping sharply against your clit, your slick completely covering his hand at this point but he didn’t seem to care. In fact, as you try to focus your bleary eyes on his face, he was wearing a deadpan expression, his face unchanging even as your moans and knees get weaker and weaker when you start reaching your peak. 

Your fingers clawing deep into his shoulders, the coil in your stomach finally snapping and you gush out on his hand, soaking his sleeves even. “Mm-uwaahhh…ahh-ah?! Mi-Mihawk! Wait-please-ahhH-fuck!” Your body bends over, throwing your arms around Mihawk’s neck and shoulders and squeezing tight as your knees lose all of its strength. Mihawk kept on bullying your abused pussy with his fingers even through your orgasm, going at a faster pace than before. A second orgasm was already building up, Mihawk’s other hand holding you up from behind so you wouldn't fully fall over. 

“Fuck-fuck-fuck!” A colorful string of curses escapes your mouth as Mihawk forces another orgasm from you. This time Mihawk lets you collapse onto his lap, his non-stained hand massaging your back as you calm down. He softly put your thighs over his so you were spread open on his lap. His golden eyes scans your face as he unbuckles his pants and free his thick cock, rubbing the tip on your leaking folds, tilting his head in question. “Ready?” His low timbre voice was even, giving away no indication of how feral he felt inside. 

You pout at his tone, huffing out a whine; “Can you at least pretend to like this?” You murmured, hands coming up to cup his face, thumb tracing over his smooth skin, no sign of aging or wrinkles anywhere to be seen. Mihawk’s self composure almost breaks at your tender touch, he was trying his best not to give away his inner thoughts. On how he absolutely wanted to ruin you, corrupt you, take you away from the outside world and lock you in his castle with him forever. But he couldn’t risk scaring you off, he wasn’t one for the chase, he preferred to keep things neat and tidy. 

He breathes out, almost sounding annoyed, making you cringe inside. Your hands began to pull away only for Mihawk to grab them and put them back on his face. “Forgive me, my dear, I am just not used to…” He trails off, his eyes looking away from you and for a split second you could see the raging emotions he was hiding underneath. Feeling a bit bolder now that you know the kind of effect you had on him, you take action and lower your hips down, sinking his cock in you. Your previous orgasm made it easy for the first half of the stretch but he was far more lengthy than you thought. 

Mihawk groans out, feeling your tight walls squeeze him, it was like heaven on earth to him, your pulsing heat shook him to his core. Seeing you struggle to take him fully, he gets even more riled up, watching your cute scrunched up face and pussy swallowing up half of his cock. Your hushed pleas for help, as you continue to struggle. He places his lips back on the bite mark he made, pressing open mouth kisses on the wound, as his hand strokes at your swollen clit, the other one on your hip gently guiding you down. “I-I don’t think it's going to fit.” You whine, jutting your bottom lips as your pussy gets stretched out even more. 

“Don’t worry, my dear, it will fit.” ‘You were made for me after all…’ Everything about you drove Mihawk crazy and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared of this foreign feeling. He just thought that your blood was the only thing special about you, but he was wrong. You sink down slowly, taking in every inch of Mihawk, his thick throbbing vein dragging along your warm walls. As you finally bottom out on his cock, Mihawk sinks in his fangs, letting out a feral moan, almost to the point of whimpering. 

He greedily gulped down your crimson saccharine nectar, you tried to alleviate the pain by moving your hips but Mihawk stopped you. His thumb was still lazily rubbing small patterns on your clit so you weren’t completely without pleasure. He lets go of your neck only so he could speak, his voice raspy and laced with heavy desire. “Don’t move too much, just sit here and let me take my fill, and th-then I’ll give you everything, my dear.” You wanted to protest but you felt you would be punished badly if you disobeyed so you stayed as still as you could. With Mihawk’s cock buried deep inside of you, his thumb only gives you enough pleasure to distract you from the stinging pain of having your blood sucked from you. 

Mihawk slowed down his feeding, opting to lap sweetly at the blood, enjoying your small squirms and needy pants. He wanted to savor your taste, drinking too quickly would ruin his meal. He already made up his mind that he was going to kidnap you but that doesn't mean he couldn't have his fun with you right now. So it was, Mihawk kept you on his lap for what felt like hours, nipping at your neck when you tried to move too much or whine too loudly for his liking. Your mind starts blanking at some point, perhaps due to the bloodlost or from the constant edging, you had enough and didn't care about the punishment right now. 

You rutted your hips forward, hands clawing at Mihawk’s open chest pitifully. Mihawk would punish you like normal, but after drinking so much of your blood, he was drunk on it. Giving your neck one last long lick and pressing his bloodied lips on yours, into a searing hot kiss. “Can’t fucking wait anymore, can you?” He thrusts up his hips, ramming his cock straight into your cervix. Bouncing his thighs in a ruthless rhythm, his hands pressing down on your hips so you felt every inch of his length in you, with no room to wiggle or move out. 

“Panting like a fucking bitch in heat, haahh..” Mihawk grunted out, spreading out one hand to rub at your clit. “Is this what you wanted huh? Plap Plap…Plap! He stutters his hips once letting his cock almost slip out, only to slam it back in forcefully once more. Your eyes roll backwards, a whole new galaxy of stars appears in your vision. Your stomach tightens and snaps, releasing and gushing all over Mihawk’s thighs and lap. He presses his forehead against yours, running the bridge of his nose over yours for a bit. 

A hand off your hip and now running through your hair, calming you down, and honestly he needed to calm down as well before his own coil would snap, his cock still sitting heavily in your core. His thighs trembling with need and desire but Mihawk was determined not to cum just yet; “Hmmmm.. Was that good enough for you? Going to finally be good now?” He sighs out, his voice quivers just a bit, if you were more clear-headed you would have caught that but you just loll your head down on his shoulder as your hole clenches and unclench on his cock, trying to adjust once more.

He softly pats your head, bringing up his other hand and summoning a book to his hand. He settles back on the couch, bringing you with and secretly making sure you’re comfortable. “Now behave while I read alright? If you interrupt me again, your next punishment will be much harsher…”

#one piece smut #one piece x reader #mihawk x reader #mihawk smut #₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ softy writes #kinktober 2023

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Treat You 5

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, violence, abuse, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (Tall!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

When you go home, your father is still angry. You barely get past him to lock yourself in your room before he’s hollering and crashing around again. You clean up the mess he left of your things but find much of it unsalvagable. You don’t have much as it is. Just books, really.

You huff as you lay on your bed and mope. Your laptop is broken. You don’t know what to do about that. If you lose your job because of it, you can’t imagine your father would be any kinder.

You wallow in self-pity, flinching every time your father bangs or shouts. He doesn’t stop until well after midnight. Your stomach hurts as it shrivels hungrily. Even if you could leave your room, it’s not like there’s much to eat.

You get about an hour’s sleep before you relent and give in to another day. You fish your library card out of your drawer and leave the broken laptop behind. You could see if you could sell it for parts.

You emerge from your room cautiously. You tiptoe down to the front room and peek inside. Your father isn’t there but several empties remain in his stead. You gather the empty bottle and carefully take them into the kitchen and arrange them in a box. It’s not much over a dollar’s worth for the dozen.

You leave the box by the front door and go back down the hall. You dip into the bathroom and clean up in the sink, brushing your teeth quickly as your ears prick at every noise. You finish up and carry your shoes from your room to the door.

You hook your bag across your body, another bag in your hand. You take the box of beer bottles with you into the hall and ease the door shut. You lock it and set off towards the rear entrance of the building. Your skin sets on fire as you approach the recycling bins and sift through them.

It’s embarrassing but you have no other way to pay for the computer time at the library. You fill the bag with empties, spilling stale dregs on yourself here and there, then sling the strap over your shoulder before reclaiming the clanging box of bottles. You set off, keeping your head down as your muscles burn from the extra weight.

You wait an hour outside the beer store for opening time. You carry in your haul and get your change. Three bucks and some change. That’s about two hours of PC time. You want to cry but you hold it back. You’ll just have to get lots of work done.

At the library, you hand over all but seventy-five cents to sit at one of the computers. You’re dizzy from the long walk and your lack of breakfast. Before you log in and start the time, you go out to the water fountain in the lobby and take a long drink. You feel a bit better even if your stomach only screams louder with hunger.

You type in your library card number and the code they wrote down and start the session. You sign in to the transcription portal and start the first job that comes up. If you can keep on track, you can get almost fifty dollars added to your next pay out.

🪻

On Friday, you’re back at the library. You’ve collected enough empties through the week to get between two to three hours at a PC each day. You even managed to find a few dimes on the couch while your dad wasn’t looking.

Your session times out at two and you pack up. Yesterday you accidentally fell asleep on one of the chairs in the mystery section. The librarian gave you a warning but otherwise let you be.

You hike your bag up and wander the aisles. You know you’re supposed to be meeting Peter. You’ve been dreading it but you didn't have a way or the nerve to cancel on him. Deep down you have to admit you’re excited to try a video game. The closest you ever got were the educational spelling and math games in grade school.

You make yourself leave the library and walk down to the cafe. You stand outside as you find the door locked. Your heart drops. It’s closed.

You hang your head and take a step back. Oh, it must’ve been a joke after all. Why would he want you around? He just had you walk all the way down here as a prank. Just like grade school when those girls invited you to that sleepover and drew all over your face.

You wince and turn away, arms crossed as your shoulders slump. You can’t believe you fell for it. You’re so stupid.

“Hey,” a voice calls and you look up to see Peter waving his hand as he runs across the street. You gape at him in surprise, “hey, uh, sorry, I think–” He hops up on the curb and checks his watch. It’s fancy, one of those digital fitness ones. “I’m on time.”

“I thought…” you look back at the cafe, “you were working?”

“Supposed to but owner didn’t show up. Or the keyholder so… no shift.”

“Oh, I thought…”

“You thought what?” His forehead wrinkles, “that I ditched you? Nope. I didn’t have any way to contact you so I just figured I’d come back and meet you like we planned. Video games are still on.”

“Right,” you nod glumly, “it’s okay if you changed your mind.”

“Do you think I’m lying?” He challenges, not harshly, rather sounding hurt.

You shake your head, “I’m not… I don’t think that but I don’t know.”

“Do you still want to come?” He asks uneasily, “I kinda… kinda been looking forward to this but I wouldn’t want you to feel forced.”

“I…” you blink and rub your neck, “I do.” You raise your head resolutely, neck still slightly bent to look him in the eye, “I just…” you bite your lip and shrug, “I guess I’m not good with people so…” you sway back and forth nervously, “I’m scared.”

“Scared? Don’t be. I’ll be right there with you,” he assures and his whole face brightens as he smiles. “If anyone gives you a hard time, you tell me, alright?”

“Okay,” your murmur.

“Well, let’s go,” he says, “Aunt May gave me the car so we can stop and grab snacks.”

“Oh, that’s… cool.”

“Promise I won’t speed,” he chuckles, “precious cargo and all.”

#peter parker #dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #peter parker x reader #drabble #treat you #series #au #the club #spider-man #marvel #mcu #avengers

[natalievoncatte]

Lena was in the dark in more ways than one.

The lights in her penthouse were all dark save one, a night light in her en suite to ensure that she didn’t take a fall if she got up. Swirling the edge of a migraine, she’s grown tired of an again-delayed product launch and the hoary halls of power and their patriarchs. Few things frustrated her more than the spiteful condescension of old men clinging to a world with all the success of a man trying to gather all the sand in a desert through chapped fingers.

Few things annoyed her more.

One of those things, she could give no name. Since Lena had realized Kara’s identity, things had been tense between them. Mostly in a pleasant way; they had been feeling out this new normal, Kara tentatively broaching this or that topic to add to brunch chats and lunchtime gossip.

“Oh,” she’d say, “that last alien hit pretty hard,” as if being knocked clean through a fertilizer plant by a blow to the head were part of her commute.

To Lena it was all new, but there was something else with it. Something neither of them dared to name, some friable, delicate new shape that they could only feel by its edges. It began with Kara bombarding Lena with friendship. Fresh breakfasts hand-delivered at hypersonic speeds. Daily lunches. For the last month, Kara had spent every weekend at Lena’s, or vice versa.

Lena’s penthouse had a guest bedroom. Kara’s place had a bed and a sofa. Comfy, but it was no bed. That was how the dance began. The first steps were hesitant, the dancers circling each other without breaking the barrier. A token argument about who gets the bed, only for them both to share it. And once they’d shared it at Kara’s place, it made no sense for Lena to confine a living space heater to the guest room.

They didn’t discuss, or analyze, or talk it out. No boundaries were ever set, and so the dance continued. What started as two people curled up in a big king bed on opposite sides became the pair of them entangling during the night, then skipping the pretext and curling up with each other before the lights went out.

It was driving Lena insane. Kara never pushed, not really, and yet it just seemed to happen. It was as if her best friend was daring her to take the initiative. The morning when Lena awoke to find Kara’s arm protectively curled about her waist, her thumb hooked on the waistband of Lena’s lounge pants, she’d almost turned over and said something.

The excuse she made was that Kara needed her sleep after the pummeling she’d taken that afternoon. That Lena enjoyed how Kara grazed the pad of her thumb over Lena’s hip bone was incidental.

Lying in the dark, Lena knew that Kara had arrived by the sound of the balcony door opening and didn’t bother to call out to her. Still dressed in her suit, Kara peeked into the bedroom, her movements tentative, somehow almost birdlike.

She came back a moment later with a cool, damp cloth for Lena’s forehead and a few murmured questions, before excusing herself.

“Darling, you can stay,” Lena sighed. “I want you to.”

“Okay,” Kara whispered back, lightly seeping stray curls from Lena’s eyes. “I need to change. No peeking.”

And why would you be worried I’ll peek? Lena thought. A platonic Best Friend isn’t going to peek. Best friends don’t do that, just like they don’t nuzzle into each other on the couch. If Lena were Kara’s best friend, then Lena wouldn’t be looking so much, so openly. Admiring Kara’s smile and her biceps and the way her abdominal muscles strained those button-downs.

She wouldn’t be thinking so much about the touches, the way she’d sat in Kara’s lap for hours at a time or how Kara had carried her to bed or how Supergirl had lingered to cradle her post-rescue, well past the point of safety.

Lena wasn’t aware she was peeking until she’s already started. Kara’s suit had taken care of itself; it was her work clothes she needed to discard. When Lena turned over, there was the broad expanse of Kara’s beautifully muscled back, flexing deliciously as she pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms.

Because Kara kept multiple sets of PJs at Lena’s place.

In Lena’s bedroom.

Because this wasn’t the first time this had happened.

Lena turned back, knowing with certainty that Kara knew. She must have heard the creaking of the mattress and the soft whisper of skin on silk sheets and the rapidity if Lena’s traitorous heart.

When Kara climbed in with Lena, the world shrank around the pair of them. Kara swept immediately to the boundary tonight, gathering Lena in her arms, hands finding spots just on this side of chaste, and their bodies molded together.

Lena was finally able to get some sleep.

When she awoke, later, Kara stirred with her.

“Zhao,” Kara muttered.

Lena froze, blinking in the dark. That wasn’t a nonsense word; it was Kryptonian.

“Come back. Zhao,” Kara muttered, as Lena stirred. She didn’t seem to be properly waking.

A nickname?

Lena couldn’t remember when she’d started calling Kara Darling, though she increasingly wished she had.

Dear diary, it was on this day at this date that I admitted my feelings to myself before wrapping them in cardboard and then in concrete and then in steel before shoving them somewhere deep down.

Kara, for her part, had tried a few pet names but most were one offs, never quite fitting. She’d even called Lena “buddy” once before Lena had cut that shit off with an arched brow.

Lena stilled. She could deny Kara nothing, and so drifted off to sleep.

By some quirk of fate, they woke almost at the same time. Lena was still groggy and bleary-eyed when Kara’s sky-blues flitted open, bringing more light than the sun itself. She shifted in the bed without letting Lena go and began to murmur something in Kryptonian, cutting herself off as that last sharp, buzzing word tumbled from her lips.

The only world froze. Kara stared at Lena with wide eyes, and the sudden tension between them made both women go rigid, neither willing to move, to break it.

“You called me that in your sleep,” Lena finally whispered. “Zhao. What does it mean?”

Kara was unusually pale.

“Oh, it’s sort of a term of endearment in Kryptonian. It means, um, ah…”

Lena sighed, cracking a soft smile. “Kara, I’m not fluent by any measure, but I know enough Kryptonian to know what Zhao means.”

“Oh,” Kara whispered, barely more than a short and sharp exhale.

“Even if I didn’t,” Lena whispered, locking eyes with her. “Your hand is literally on my ass right now.”

“Oh. Um. Golly. I’m sorry, I…”

Kara started to pull back. Lena gently took hold of Kara’s wrist and held her hand there. Her heart fluttered not only at the strength in Kara’s forearm but how those steel cable muscles went slack beneath her touch.

Lena swiveled her hips.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Kara whispered.

“Oh, trust me, I’ve got that covered,” said Lena.

Kara shivered. “No, I mean… I don’t know what to…” She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing.

Lena pressed in closer, until the space between them was more a theoretical concept than an actuality.

“Just say what you want to say.”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Lena snorted a laugh, briefly ashamed at her inner dork, and afraid that Kara would take offense.

“Kara, you’ve been sleeping over every weekend with your hand in my pants for months. Yes, I will be your girlfriend.”

Kara grinned, starting to sit up.

“Come on, zhao,” said Kara.

Giving their partner a nickname/having their partner give them a nickname.

#prompt #supergirl fanfiction #supercorp #supercorp fanfic #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #ficlet #these are turning into random vignettes from their life together #waff #pointless waff #fluff #fluff with just the tiniest taste of angst #a little angst in the fluff is like salt in the pasta water #a little angst… as a treat

[marlynnofmany]

An Impressive Number of Arms

“Hello!” I said, holding up the clear travel crate. “Here are your small hopping animals!” I really wanted to say frogs, but they weren’t from Earth, and neither were the people I was handing them off to.

“Excellent,” said the one-armed alien. She stood more solidly on that single leg than I ever would, regarding me with one large eye. It was weird to see her mouth instead of a breathing mask. The air on her ship was unbearably damp by my standards, and I couldn’t wait to get back on the shuttle.

The other Solo spoke up from behind her, a greenish-blue to her purple-blue. “Do you have the crawling animals too?”

“Yes, sorry,” I said. “Mur is bringing those.” I called back into the open hatch of the shuttle, “Need a hand, Mur?”

“Just double-checking the seal,” my coworker called back. “And why would I need a hand when I have tentacles? Absurd human phrasing.”

I turned back to the clients, setting the crate on a table. “He’ll be right out.”

Before I could get the payment tablet or strike up some small talk, an authority figure walked into the docking bay. Well, hopped. But she made it look regal. And the other two immediately folded in half to bow. I did the same briefly, hoping it was the right amount of deference.

“Are the creatures lively?” she demanded.

“Oh yes,” I said, waving a hand at the crate while keeping my other arm at my side. It wouldn’t do to emphasize my abundance of limbs.

The boss turned her one eye on the purple underling. “Open the lid and check.”

I blurted out, “It’s clear. You can see them.”

That just earned me a glare. “False sides can be faked.”

Yeah, okay. Guess we’re doing this. I shrugged, hoping it looked polite, and stepped back for the purple one to unfasten all the safety catches. Maybe the frogs will behave themselves.

Of course they didn’t. The first one leapt right at my face, and I caught it in midair. Others were springing everywhere with excited little peeps. The purple one shut the lid hastily, but it was much too late.

“Hm. Good,” the boss said. She turned on her heel and bounded toward the door. “Make sure you clean up thoroughly.”

I’d like to say I was flabbergasted at that, but I’d been working with people of one sort or another for long enough to know better. The customer is often an idiot, and you’re obliged to pretend they’re not.

“I got one!” said the green guy. “Open the lid again!”

“The others will get out!” objected the purple one, trying to slap her hand over another tiny frog-thing.

“Who designed this crate?” the green one lamented.

“Here, I can do it,” I said. “I’ve had practice.” The frog I’d caught was small enough to hold in one hand without worrying that I’d squish it, so my other was free to slide the lid back an inch, covering the rest of the opening with my forearm. I dumped the frog in and closed it, then held my hands out for the next one.

The Solos were grateful. We did our best to catch the many little beasties that were spreading across the docking bay. I caught twice as many as they did, and put them all back one at a time.

The green guy shook his head. “That two-armed advantage,” he grumbled.

“We appreciate your help,” said the purple one, giving him a sharp look.

“No problem,” I said. “I’m happy to put my arms to use.” It was only showing off a little to catch two different frogs at once. “I think we’ve got most of them, just missing the ones that have gone into hiding.”

“Hiding inside our shuttle?” asked Mur’s voice.

I looked up to see him posing in the entrance with a frog wrapped in almost every tentacle. He towed the snail crate behind him on a glider pad. The seals looked fine.

I cocked a hip. “Nobody likes a show-off, Mur.”

His grin made him look like a cartoonishly proud squid.

The Solos fell over themselves thanking him. I put my two frogs away, then took his one at a time while the Solos peeked into corners and crevices in search of strays. Eventually they were all back in the crate, none the worse for all the excitement.

I didn’t know if they were destined to be food, royal pets, or something else, but they were healthy and accounted for on my watch, dagnabbit. I even got out the medical scanner to count how many were in the crate, because there was no way they’d hold still long enough to do it the old-fashioned way.

“Yes, that’s all of them!” I declared. The Solos looked visibly relieved. “Good job, team!”

“You’re welcome,” Mur said with false humility.

“Yeah yeah,” I said. “You and your more-arms-than-the-rest-of-us-combined. What took you so long to come out, anyway?”

“Oh, that.” Mur leaned in with a tentacle shielding his mouth from lip-reading on any cameras that might be in place. “Whoever made the snail crate did a bad job. The lid popped open in transit.”

“What?” I asked while the two Solos looked appropriately alarmed.

“Not to worry. I got them all.” He looked exceptionally smug, waving his tentacles gently.

I just shook my head and took out the payment tablet.

“Don’t tell the boss,” said the purple one as she took it. She had to set it on the table so she could use her single hand to tap in the information.

“Not a word,” I promised.

“I will only brag to trusted ears,” Mur said. With a glance at me, he added. “I think now is a fine time for a round of that card-flipping game that you lost so badly at last time. I’m on a roll.”

I pointed a finger at him while I accepted the tablet back with the other hand. “Oh, you are on. There’s no way I’m going to let you be this smug twice in one day.”

He grinned some more. I was pretty sure he was definitely going to be that smug again, but I’d give it my best shot. On the behalf of people with only two arms everywhere.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come!

#my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #and so are the aliens #haso #hfy #eiad #writeblr #aliens #science fiction