#i have to calm the fires but there's not much else in this shitty room

[iavenjqasdf]

I feel like the quality of my posts is inverse to how well I'm actually doing most of the time

#posting be kind be gentle be well while having panic attacks near daily #anhedonic for months now i think #all sense of time gone mostly just boredom punctuated by agony #i have to calm the fires but there's not much else in this shitty room #just a malfunctioning stove and food i don't wanna eat #this too is eury

[futterurl]

Owe It To You

Josh Futturman x fem!reader

WARNINGS: smut (mdni!), oral(f!recieving), fingering, clit play, female anatomy on reader

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you were tired, to say the least.

going back in time, checking on the future to the same, demented outcome, really took a toll on you guys. it always seemed as if every effort and alternative path taken for the future didn’t matter.

you were lost in thought as tiger and wolf fought with each other, it was the same empty argument: wolf didn’t listen, tiger wanted control. it was draining to hear.

you all were in Joosh’s super house, taking a peek at how fucked up you all made this future. you left the living room in frustration, heading up to Joosh’s room.

you crashed onto the bed, covering your face with a pillow, letting out a low groan. you were tired of all the fighting, all the time travel, everything. you needed a break.

you heard a knock on the door, followed by a calming voice asking, “hey, you okay?”

you lifted the pillow from your face, seeing josh, peaking the door open, worry etched on his eyebrows. he knew how much of a toll this was starting to take on you, you guys were best friends, after all.

“yeah, just…tired, is all.” you half mumbled into the pillow, just loud enough so he could barely hear.

he leaned off the door and sat on the bed that you lay on. he scratched your head.

“something’s telling me there’s more to it than that.” he inquired.

“i don’t know…i guess i’m just tired of all this shit.” you began. “we try so hard to perfect the future, but are met with the same outcome. i’ve been trying to think left and right of new ideas…nothing’s working.”

he understood that this was only the tip of the iceberg, regarding your feelings for all this. when you got roped up into this mess, you left more behind than him. you left behind an internship you had busted your ass off for, and two other jobs, which you probably got fired from, due to your absence.

you had two different jobs just to meet ends meet, in your shitty apartment. sure, they were crappy, dead-end jobs, but they helped you get ends meet. you were somehow able to balance those along with your internship which you fought so hard to get.

all down the drain.

in a way, it was relieving, not having to juggle all of this, living every day as a drained, sleep deprived zombie.

unfortunately, this scenario was just like everything else in your life: there was no way out.

“i know, i know…i really am sorry you got dragged into this. it’s all my fault.” josh sighed.

it had just been a fun night of you guys playing video games, finally beating this one you guys had been playing for…forever. once you guys were just hanging out and talking about it, in a flash of light, wolf and tiger had appeared, needing the people who beat the game’s help. immediately. you both were there, so they needed the both of you.

“it’s not your fault, josh…we did it together, we gotta get through this together.” it really wasn’t his fault. you didn’t want him to think that.

“no, it is. i’m constantly getting you roped into all the shit that happens in my life, and you’ve been working your ass off to fix this timeline. you deserve better.” josh stroked your hair.

you sat up. “it’s okay, josh. there’s nobody i’d rather fix the timeline with.”

“still, it’s not fair. all of this isn’t fair. let me…let me make it up to you.” he seemed a bit nervous and started hesitating on his words.

you started to feel a little hot. “how would you go about ‘making it up to me’, josh?”

you did not expect what he did next.

josh was this awkward gamer nerd who had never felt the touch of a woman before. he’d always been so out of place and nervous talking to anyone, which made it so weird to hear what he said next.

“let…let me make you feel good.” his hand laying on the bed crept closer to your thigh, covered by your pants.

you started to get a little nervous yet excited. you had never seen him be this bold before.

“you’ve been so stressed by everything in life, and i mean everything. a-and you never have anyone help you out with anything. i want to help you…feel good, like stress relief.” his pinkie played with the fabric of your pants.

you couldn’t believe this was real right now. josh, the one you had known for years, barely having the balls to talk to girls besides you, doing this. your mine was racing.

he noticed how quiet you were being. “o-of course you don’t have to let me do it if you don’t want to! it was just an idea, it was stupid, i don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anythi-”

he was cut off by you kissing him, hand holding his jawline. he melted into the kiss.

as you pulled away, you smiled. “i…i think i do want this. please, josh. make me feel good.”

“okay…okay..” he started to trail off with his words as his thumb ran back and forth on your cheek. “before i do this, i just wanna let you know that if you’re uncomfortable, please tell me, and we’ll be done. won’t have to speak of it ever again. promise.”

he was very sweet. sure, he was awkward, but he put your comfort and pleasure first. it made you feel happy and safe.

he went back to softly kissing you as his hand went slightly under your shirt and rubbed your waist, just above your pants. soft, delicate touches.

as he unbuttoned your pants, he tapped your hips twice, signaling for you to lift them up. as you did, he tugged your pants down at an agonizingly slow pace. he was such a fucking tease.

his eyes became infatuated with your lace underwear you were wearing. the way it clung to your hips was driving him mad. he hoped you couldn’t tell how crazy you were making him. he toyed with the fabric as you smiled.

“as much as i love these,” he snapped them on your hips. “i’m gonna have to take them off. is that okay with you?”

you felt so safe, knowing how tender he was being. he didn’t want to fuck this up. you lifted your hips. “that’s more than okay with me, josh.” you played with a handful of his hair.

he dragged your panties down your legs, exposing your glistening cunt to him. he audibly gasped, he couldn’t believe he was doing this to you. sure, he always thought you were sweet, and even fantasized about doing things like this to you, but he didn’t think it’d ever happen.

he was lost in thought, staring at your cunt. you started to get insecure, closing your legs. “josh, stop staring.” you pleaded.

he shook his head. “sorry, you’re just…so beautiful. i can’t believe it.” he thumbed little circles on your inner thigh.

“can i…feel you? down there, i mean?” he asked. god, he was so awkward it was funny.

you nodded your head. “yeah. please.”

his fingers started inching closer and closer to where you needed them most. suddenly, he ran one through your slit, barely touching your clit. you shuddered. that felt good.

“fuck…you’re so wet. you’re so hot.” he ran his finger slowly around your clit, seeing if he’d get any reactions from you. you silently gasped.

“that..that felt really good. please keep doing that.” you felt so good right now. no guy had ever focused on making you feel good before. this was new. you liked it.

“god, please moan for me. love the little noises y’make.” josh was rubbing your clit a bit faster, making you let out a quiet moan.

“f..fuck. feels good. really good.” feeling that little area constantly stimulated was the ticket. you hadn’t felt this good in a long time.

“can i…can i put a finger in?” he asked, slowing down his aggression on your clit.

you furiously nodded your head, your pussy clamping down on nothing. wanting to be filled. by him.

“please, please josh.” you said, getting lost in the pleasure. you let out a grunt as he slowly inserted a finger inside you.

“fuck, it’s only one finger but you’re so tight, fuck.” he started to ramble as he moved his finger in your wetness. you squirmed a bit. it felt so good, his thick finger getting lost in you.

“m’ gonna put another one im, ‘kay?” he asked, prodding another finger to your tight hole. you nodded, to which he slowly put it in. you groaned at the tight stretch.

“you good?” he asked. he wanted this to be good for you. the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

“yeah, was just..new, was all. please keep going. feels good.” you went on.

he did just that. he curled his fingers inside you, pumping them at a quick pace. that, with stimulation he was putting from his thumb to your clit, was making you moan left and right. you felt something stirring inside you.

“god, you’re so cute like this…should’ve done this sooner.” he gushed, turning you on even more.

“fuck, m’close.” you panted.

as soon as the feeling met you, it left as he pulled his fingers out of you.

you looked up at him, confused. “why’d you do that?” you asked.

he started to sink down. “as much as i was getting into that, i wanna see you cum on my tongue.” he kissed your thighs.

you felt the wetness pool inside you even more once he said that. god, you couldn’t get that image out of your head now.

“please, fuck, josh. make me cum on your tongue.” you pleaded as he slowly trailed to your inner thighs, giving them a lot of attention. you had taken him for the thigh guy, but not to this extent.

“since you asked so nicely…” he lowered his head, taking a long lick to your cunt, you releasing a pornographic moan.

“fuck…feels s’good josh…oh my god.” you had never felt this type of pleasure anywhere, and here he was, giving it to you like his life depended on it.

he gave a light kiss to your clit before lightly tracing his tongue over it, testing the waters. once he heard you becoming a moaning mess, he licked it with more vigor, wanting to pull these moans out of you.

the stimulation felt like no other, him focusing on making out with your clit and entrance. he pulled your thighs closer to his face as he licked at more of your slick.

you pulled at his hair, letting out breathy moans. he groaned at this. hard. right into your cunt, which felt so fucking good. you could feel your back arch off the bed as he lapped into your juices, him tonguing your clit. your nails scratched at his scalp as that familiar pit in your stomach came back.

“josh…so close…holy shit.” you moaned as his tongue swirled around you.

“please, come on my face. please.” he pleaded. the vibrations his voice sent to your core sending you even closer. “wanna make you feel better than you ever have. come on my tongue.”

one final stroke of his tongue lead you to your peak, your thighs tightening around his face. you let out incoherent babbles as you came on him. he continued to lick you as you rode out your high.

once you calmed down, you looked down at him, catching your breath. he had slick all over his face and wore a dopey smile. “are you okay?” he asked.

“never better.” you replied. “that felt so fucking good josh. thank you. so much.” you caressed his cheek.

“i hope it’s not too weird to tell you i enjoyed that.” he had a slight tint of red on his cheeks.

“oh! not at all. it was amazing. i can’t thank you enough.” you smiled, laying onto the pillow.

“no, i can’t thank you enough. you always stay by my side and always fix my messes. this is the least that i could do.” he said as he handed you a glass of water that was sitting on the nightstand, which you took.

“i’ll always be here for you, if you ever wanna do shit like this again, or even something soothing like a massage.” he added.

you put the glass of water down, hugging him. “you’re so sweet, josh. i appreciate it so much. you’re such a good person, i really hope you know that.”

“anything else you need?” he asked.

“take a nap with me for awhile?” you asked. you had gotten very sleepy.

“of course.” he get under the covers, cuddling you and stroking your hair. “i’ll do anything for you, i hope you know that.”

you nuzzled into his chest, getting comfortable. “you too, joshy.” you mumbled as you started to fall into a deep sleep.

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a/n: hi guys first(ish) post. hope u enjoyed :p pls send requests as well! i’m so bad at ideas

#josh futturman smut #josh futturman #josh futturman x reader #future man #future man smut

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Just some Dom Frank smut that I've had in my wips for ages 😊

Frank Castle x female reader (with some Billy Russo x reader at the very beginning)

You've got a friends-with-benefits thing going on with Billy and realise you have a little kink which he's not really into, but he has a solution...

Warnings: choking kink, praise, pet names, p in v sex, teasing, begging. Please reblog if you enjoyed so that others may do the same! Please! Thank you 😊

Billy is fucking you hard, driving himself deeper and deeper with every punishing, sinful thrust of his hips, making you lose yourself almost completely. He brings his hand up to caress the side of your face and you arch into his touch as he skims it down the side of your neck to your chest where he pinches and teases your nipples. He grins wickedly, diving down mouthing and grazing his teeth over the plush skin of your tits as you moan. You grasp for his wrist, dragging his hand back up to your neck, whimpering as you can feel your peak drawing ever closer when his fingertips brush over your throat.

But Billy gently draws his hand away. "Scotch." He says. His safeword.

Your eyes widen as the word hits your ears and you try to calm your breathing as you both slow down and come to a stop.

"Oh Billy, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay, kitten." He replies, carefully pulling out and laying down beside you. "I guess we never covered that particular area." He smiles but you still feel awful for trying to get him to do something to you that he isn't entirely comfortable with.

"I- I didn't really know I liked it, until just then… but I'm still sorry, I should have asked you first regardless."

“It's alright, don't worry about it. But hey, I'm glad you've discovered a new kink!" You share a smile as he cuddles you into his arms and kisses you sweetly.

You and Billy had been friends with benefits for a few months now. You were both currently single and relished the opportunity to cut almost completely loose with each other. You found each other attractive, had a lot of fun, and most importantly it was a much-needed tension release after a stressful work day where you just wanted someone else to take control and make you feel good.

Later on that evening he came to you with an unexpected proposal.

"I feel so shitty about leaving you hanging like that before, so I was wondering if you might be cool with me setting you up with a good friend of mine. I think he'd be able to give you what you need, maybe a little bit more than I can?”

You look up from your phone, rapt and curious at the suggestion. "Billy, are you for real? You'd really do that for me?"

He looks surprised that you'd think he wouldn't. "’course I will baby, I just want to see you happy! If you like I'll tell him all your preferences. He'll only go as hard as you want, and you can play here at my place if it makes you feel safer. I'd be there in the next room if you needed me, but Frank's a good guy, he'll take good care of you I promise."

You sit up straighter at the mention of Frank's name. "Wait, it's Frank? You mean your marine buddy Frank?! I didn't know he was into–"

Billy chuckles. "Yeah, not many do. But you like him,” Billy smirks as he teases you, “don't you?"

You give him a sly smile back, he's not wrong. "Well, from what I've seen…" you murmur, thinking about the few times you'd briefly met, once when you went to meet Billy at the gym and Frank came striding out of the showers, shirtless. And then there was the size of his hands…

Billy laughs even louder seeing a dreamy expression cross over your features. "Alright now kitten, don't get all fired up just yet. I'll go see him tomorrow and we'll talk it over okay? See what he says."

You leap into Billy's arms. "You are much too good to me Russo! You know that?"

He nods and kisses the top of your head, still amused. "Yeah, I know."

Frank was apparently very eager to help you out and so Billy arranged a little introductory session for you both at his on the Friday night. Billy had clued you in on what Frank was into as you'd wanted to know, even though this was primarily for your benefit.

"-and you call him 'Sir', yeah?"

You nod. You were melting already.

"Hey girl, think you got a lil bit of drool hanging out the corner of your mouth there…" Billy laughs and you give him a playful punch.

"Shut up! I'm just… a little excited."

"Oh, you should be, baby." You can't help notice Billy's slightly wistful look as he says it. "You're in good hands."

When Friday evening arrives Billy lets you get settled in and informs you that Frank's waiting in his bedroom whenever you're ready. You're slightly nervous but when you open the door and see his large form sitting on the side of the bed suddenly all you feel is a buzz.

"Hey princess, how're you doin'?" He asks in a low drawl along with a smile that makes you want to bark. He looks so damn fine you want to squeal.

Instead you greet him politely, reining in your giddiness and desire. "I'm good thank you, Sir."

Frank grins, a slight chuckle bursting past his lips in a way you found cute. "Did Bill tell you to say that sweetheart? Y'know he's just messin' with you? You can call me Frank if you want."

You return his smile, nodding. "Yes, Sir."

Frank makes a satisfied sound and laughs again, softer this time, his deep brown penetrating gaze making you feel weak at the knees. "Mm, alright. C'mon over here, let me see ya."

Just this simple request has your body feeling like it's ablaze. He stands up as you slowly walk over to him, his eyes running over you like warm honey, taking in the way your soft cotton summer dress hugs your curves, the hem ending just above your mid thigh.

“You're a very beautiful woman.” He says with a note of sincerity and awe, bringing his hand up to gently trace the side of your jaw. You feel the heat flush up into your face.

"What's your safeword honey?"

"Cloud." You reply hazily. You're practically purring already as his fingers graze over your rapidly heating skin.

Frank nods. "That's good, mine's 'bullet'. “How're you feelin' sweetheart?'' he asks, "Think you wanna play some?"

You start to lean into his touch as his thumb strokes across the small smile on your soft lips. "Yeah." You respond, and Frank grunts his approval as you start to lick and suck on his thumb as he gently slides it between your lips.

"Such a good girl. Damn. Bill told me you were needin' a little somethin' extra. S'that right?" he gently probes, and you feel your entire body start to tingle with the anticipation of what he's going to do with you next.

You take the digit deeper into your mouth as he guides you down to kneel in front of him, swirling your tongue around it and hollowing your cheeks to suck just a little while you look up at him with wide eyes.

"Yeah, we're gonna get on real well. How ‘bout we see what else that pretty mouth of yours can do, huh?"

He slowly palms over the noticeable bulge at the crotch of his jeans and you can feel the saliva filling your mouth, dripping out of the corner as he presses his thumb down against your tongue. Yes sir, please sir you think as you nod slowly as he removes it and unbuckles his belt. The clinking sound of it being undone has you soaking into your silky underwear already. This is what you need. Just him to keep telling you what to do, to take complete control of your body and mind and make you feel like nothing else matters.

As he pulls his cock out in front of your face you can't stop your eyes widening and the eager moan that escapes you. He's big, long and thick, and as he strokes himself to full hardness you shift about on your knees, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you catch sight of a drop of precum leaking from his tip.

"Look at you, so damn perfect an' all ready f'me.”

You push up onto your knees, keeping your hands to yourself until he tells you otherwise, your mouth open and tongue out flat and wide as you wait for him to give you what you're craving. Instruction.

“Yeah, that's right. You know what to do princess."

His cock is mere inches from your mouth, just out of reach. He finally moves forward to rub the head of it over your waiting tongue, moaning as the addictive musky taste of him spreads across it. You slide your mouth on, stretching your lips over the fat head of his dick, closing your eyes as you slowly begin to suck on it.

"Ah-ah sweetheart, look at me. Eyes on me." He corrects, watching you take a little more of him in, beginning to move back and forth and shallowly fuck your mouth as you obey and look back up at him. He groans letting his head fall back as you lap your tongue along the bulging vein on the underside.

"Oh yeah, that's real good baby. Gonna give you some more just like you want, huh?"

You moan your agreement around his impressive girth as you pull back and ready yourself to swallow him deeper. He's gentle at first, he pushing his fingers through your hair, cradling the back of your head lightly as you take him in as far as you can, gagging slightly until you can figure out how to breathe. Your eyes start to water as you gaze up at him. He's telling you that you look so damn pretty, and you feel the wetness between your thighs increase ten fold as his big hand and thick fingers wrap around your throat to guide you.

"Oh- fuck- attagirl, there we go, fuck that's it."

You think he's gonna finish off in your mouth the way he's groaning and grunting fucking your mouth, obviously enjoying the way you're taking him and letting him use you. But you're silently begging him with your eyes not to, because you're throbbing, aching for him to get inside of you, to be able to feel that massive dick fucking you until you can't think thoughts.

Thankfully he slows his movements, pulling out his dick and wiping your messy spit covered chin with his thumb. He lifts you up to your feet and gently pushes you back on the bed where you land with a soft bounce. As you struggle to regain your breath he's chuckling at your gawking stare as he strips out of his clothes revealing his muscular chest, defined rows of abs and thick thighs that you dream of being suffocated between.

"Hope you weren't thinkin’ I was neglectin' that pretty little pussy of yours..."

Of course he knows what you're thinking but you still shake your head. "No sir." you mewl, your body aflame from the way his eyes rove over you. Frank prowls up your body, his hand slipping up under the hem of your dress and gently cupping your mound, middle fingers stroking so teasingly up over your folds through your damp underwear. You yelp as he takes his hand away only to slap your cunt hard, the pleasurable pain jolting through your whole body like an electric shock.

"Don't lie to me."

"N-no sir!" You whimper as he rubs you again through the flimsy fabric, grinning as he feels the fresh flood of your arousal soak his fingers.

"Well shit. Look at that baby. You like sucking cock that much?"

"I like sucking your cock, sir." You pant, trying to grind yourself against his hand for some immediate relief. He lifts it away, slapping your pussy lightly again making you cry out in frustration.

"Gimme a colour sweetheart."

Billy had said that you would be in good hands. You were gonna have to get him a present or something for this.

'G-green!"

"That's a good girl." He smirks, curling his fingers over the waistband of your panties, peeling them down your ass away from your soaking core, and inching them ever so slowly down your trembling thighs.

"Heard you don't like bein' teased, princess…"

Your mind reels wondering where he's going with this, your breath shallow and fast as he bares you to him, tossing your ruined underwear across the bedroom. He kneels on the bed at your feet,

"On your hands and knees f'me."

He commands and you obey. It's that simple. He takes his time appraising you, his fingers drifting over your ass cheeks and carefully rucking up the hem of your dress to your waist.

"Cute." He remarks, noting how your breathing changes as he moves up behind you, his hand resting on your hip. You gasp you feel the firm head of his cock run between the folds of your puffy, sopping cunt. He rubs it up and down the length of your slit, over and over so slowly, and every time you think he's going to sink right in and fill you full he doesn't. You want nothing else so badly but to push back into him, to have him thrust inside and probably split you in half but he hasn't said that you're allowed to.

You want to scream.

"Doin' real good for me, such a good girl."

You shiver at the praise, but you need more, he has to understand how much you need him.

"Yeah, you want me to give you some more don't you? I know, I know sweetheart." He says soothingly while pushing his cock forward between your legs and bumping the head up against your clit. When he draws away yet again you can't stand the tease anymore and you break.

"Fuck, please!" you whine.

Frank smacks his hand down on your ass cheek and you cry out, heat blooming out over your skin as he runs his palm over the stinging spot.

"Please what?" He asks you so casually, as if he's completely ignorant to the fact you're almost dripping wet down the inside of your thighs.

"Please, sir… I-I need it, n-need your cock so bad, please!" You try, staring straight ahead as you dip your back, making your hips tilt up hoping he'll see just how ready you are for more. You breathe out a shaky whimper of relief as you feel the warmth and pressure of his giant hand grip around the back of your neck holding you still as he takes his cock in hand and slides it close to where you're aching for him to shove it. But he doesn't, and he so clearly knows what it's doing to you.

You want this teasing, this cruel punishment and yet can't stop your pathetic sobs of desperation, can't stop the tears from rolling down your flushed cheeks as you plead with him repeatedly.

"Shh-shh c'mon pretty girl, you know I got you." He says shushing you gently. "Deep breaths f'me hm? You good?"

You manage to drag in a shuddering lungful of air so you can tell him you want this, you want him to keep going, keep making you feel.

His fingers grip the back of your neck tighter when he hears your confirmation to continue and finally– he gives you what you need, forcing the thick head of his cock into your needy pussy. You moan and mewl as he stretches you open, despite how wet and ready you thought you were it's still a tight fit and he pauses for a few seconds, feeling you contract around his tip.

"S'that what you need huh? Feel good?"

You groan as he holds himself still, only the first couple of inches of him inside you. Then he moves, so slow that the tears return, running down the drying tracks on your skin as he thrusts gently back and forth, only fucking you with the very tip of his cock. Pushing in and popping out, so painfully slowly, in and out, again and again.

"Mm, that's all you deserve for now baby. That's all you're gettin' till you play nice."

The next time he pulls out he smacks his hard length down against your ass, thrusting himself between the cleft of your cheeks for a while leaving you completely empty. You do nothing, say nothing, just moan and let him use your body until he wants to reward you. And reward you he does…

You inhale sharply as you feel the sudden loss of contact, but then he buries his face in your cunt and starts licking and fucking you with his tongue. He grips firmly around your thighs, pulling you back, flush with his hot mouth as he works you up until your legs are shaking. You gasp as the coil deep inside tightens as he keeps it up, reacting to the increasing pitch and volume of your moans. You're gonna come any second and you know he's not told you that you can, that you're allowed to. You don't know what to do, the feeling is welling up from deep inside, it's getting closer and he won't let up, craning his neck to flick your clit with the tip of his tongue and delve his tongue into the steady stream of slick arousal leaking out of you.

Fuck, god… please, just a little more, so close, it feels so fucking good- almost… there–

Frank stops, pulls away.

You're shaking, crying, your cunt is throbbing.

He stopped.

Suddenly you don't know which way is up, whimpering as he spears you with his cock, sliding all the way into you until you can feel his hip bones hard up against your ass. You twitch and pulse around him at the sensation.

Fuck it's so good it's so good, you babble as he drags you up off your hands, his arms binding you to his warm chest as he starts to rut you hard and fast, his beautiful fat cock dragging so deep against your soft inner walls. Frank claps a hand over your breast, squeezing and fondling then tugging and pinching hard at your nipple while his other massive paw slides upwards to your neck, and you whimper and whine as it easily circles your entire throat. You lean into it, showing him that this is what you wanted, what you were being a good girl for. He holds you firmly while his hips thrash, fucking you so hard you can't speak, can't think about anything else but how perfect it feels, how you want nothing else but for him to fill you up, use you how he pleases.

He tightens his grip and growls as your pussy squeezes around him in response.

"Yeah," he rasps into the side of your neck, his skin smacking against your ass every time he thrusts up into you. You can feel his heavy balls almost brushing your clit. "Good girl… c'mon and let me hear you."

Every time he buries himself inside a pitiful little whimper falls from your open mouth. You wonder if Billy is listening next door, maybe getting off on the sound of the two of you fucking.

Frank's tightening, vice-like grip snaps you back to the moment and you're aching for him and starting to get a little lightheaded which makes everything feel so much more intense.

“Fraaank…” you pant.

"You close sweetheart? Goddamn, I know it, can feel you flutterin' honey, feels so good."

He's relentless in the way that he fucks you, but it's not without tenderness and sensuality. His lips kiss the sweaty skin of your shoulder as he holds you upright, your back flush against his broad chest, his hand still around your neck and one splayed over your stomach as he starts to ram his cock repeatedly right into that perfect spot.

“C'mon sweetheart, I got you,” he grunts, "go on, go off for me baby...”

When his hand slides down lower and you feel the electric sensation of the rough pads of his fingertips start rubbing over your slick clit, there's no going back. You're a hot, whimpering mess ready to fall over the edge.

He half-whispers, voice low and gruff by your ear. “Fuck that's it, fuck, yeah…”

He slams up into you as your body finally quakes around him and you let go completely with an uninhibited moan of pleasure, feeling the rolling fire of your orgasm exploding out in powerful waves through every nerve. You're barely aware of anything after that, only half registering the deep groan of satisfaction from Frank as he finishes inside you with several slow, deep rolls of his hips.

Everything feels warm and gooey, sounds are muted and distant for a while until you hear him again as you slowly come to, blinking your heavy eyelids open to his concerned voice.

“Hey, hey… you okay sweetheart?”

You gradually become aware that you're being held, warm and grounded. Frank's propped up on the mound of pillows at the headboard and you're laying against his broad chest as he trails his fingertips gently up and down the outside of your arm.

“Not too much?” He asks, angling his head to make eye contact with you.

You reach up your hand around the back of his head, leaning up as you pull him down to kiss him for the first time. It's a sweet kiss, relaxed and easy considering all that you've just done together. He's got the cutest smile you've ever seen on his face after you break away, this big unit of a man is maybe even blushing slightly.

“No this was perfect, thank you so much Frank, I couldn't really ask for more.” He hands you a glass of water and you kinda do wish you could indulge yourself a little more and lie in his arms for longer, but you're aware that Billy's just outside and you both should probably get cleaned up anyway. As you carefully push yourself up you can't help notice Frank seems almost reluctant to break up your little post coital moment.

“Y'know, anytime you need a little somethin’, you just let me know, hm?” Frank offers, and you know you'll definitely be taking him up on that. You slip out of bed and he's right there making sure you don't fall over your own wobbly legs on the way to the ensuite to shower.

“You comin' with me, big guy?” you ask him with a raised brow and a soft smile, glad when he returns it and shadows you, turning on the hot spray of the shower and helping you wash.

When you emerge Frank heads into the kitchen to pour you all a drink and you go to find Billy. He's in his office with his headphones on and gives you a smirk when he sees your blissed out expression, taking the headset off and putting it on the desk.

“Looks like you might've had some fun. Frankie, did you treat her right?!” he shouts through to the kitchen, and you can't help the huge grin that splits your face.

“Yeah he most definitely did.” You reply, your fingers playing with a pen on the edge of his desk. “I was thinking that maybe, we could all have some fun together next time..?”

“Oh we're already planning a next time are we?” Billy teases, and you smack him on the arm, shushing him as Frank appears in the doorway to hand you both a glass of bourbon each.

“You can count me in.” Frank responds before taking a sip and Billy grins.

You couldn't wait.

#frank castle x female reader #dom!frank castle #frank castle smut

[cupid-styles]

Is this too many? 🥺 -🐶

(Not for one blurb [that’d be impressive], I’d take any of these. But 11 and 18 had my eyes bugging out. 5, 24, 35, & 38 feel very ymls coded but idk—you’re the word wizard here)

5. “I can’t pull out when you wrap your legs around me like that.”

11. “You talk too much.  How about we use your mouth for something else?”

18. “I’m gonna stop if you don’t cum.”

23. “Don’t stop.  Even if I beg you to.”

24. “I never knew you liked being spanked.”

28. “I love that we both already finished and your legs are still shaking.”

29. “First one to cum loses.”

35. “Ooh, you’re not wearing any underwear.  Trying to tell me something?”

38. “Quit eyefucking me and get over here so you can actually fuck me!”

39. “What the fuck?  Do that again.  I liked it.”

42. “Ever heard of an Australian kiss?”  “No.  What’s that?”  “It’s like a French kiss, but down under.” (“We are down under, aren’t we?”)

anything for you bestie boo!!! I was able to get a few in there for you <3333

part of the ymls universe

masterlist | talk to me

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. . .

Harry is driving Y/N insane today.

It's not even really his fault. Clementine is being especially fussy and only calms down when he's holding her, which in turn, makes Y/N feel like a shitty mom, even if it's only barely been three months since she was born. Her breasts are sore from pumping milk, she's tired, and, if she's being completely honest, she's annoyed that despite the lack of sleep the both of them have been getting, Harry still manages to look so good.

When he's finally able to get Clementine down for a nap, he traipses to the living room to find Y/N sitting there alone, stewing in her own annoyance.

"There you are," he says, lifting a hand to run it through his messy hair. His sweatshirt rises up a bit, revealing an inkling of the laurels tattooed on his hips, and it only makes the pit of vexation grow deep in her chest. "Hungry? I was thinking of making a panini for lunch."

She shrugs.

"What's the matter?" he pushes, his bottom lip pouting out slightly. She wants to roll her eyes at him but resists the urge, attempting to soothe her irritation by telling herself that he's just trying to help.

"If you're not in the mood for a panini, I can always—"

"You talk too much," Y/N grumbles, glaring at him with fire in her eyes, "How about we use your mouth for something else?"

His eyes widen. "Is that why you're pissy today? You just need an orgasm?"

She's slightly surprised by his equally feisty response, but she doesn't blame him for it. He walks towards her, towering over her as he stands above her form, and takes her chin into his palm.

"You know you can always just ask." he murmurs, thumbing over her cheek. She narrows her eyes at him.

"Just do something." she mutters reluctantly, and it makes him smirk. Without a word, he removes his grasp from her face.

"All fours." he instructs. It sends a shiver down her spine but she obeys instantly, flipping onto her hands and knees. She feels the couch dip from behind her and she assumes it's from the weight of his body. Her suspicions are proven correct when he palms over the thick of her ass, though her bottom half is still covered by thin sleep shorts.

He doesn't warn her before he yanks them down to her knees, a mouthy chuckle leaving his lips at the sight of her bare bum.

"Ooh, you're not even wearing underwear. Trying to tell me something?"

She rolls her eyes at his teasing and pushes back against his hand, wordlessly begging him to do something. He snorts.

"Brat," he mumbles. It's not a moment longer before his palm smacks down against her ass cheek, making her gasp. He's never spanked her before — not because she doesn't like it, but because their sexual encounters have never gotten that rough. It leaves her skin stinging and her core throbbing.

"I never knew you liked getting spanked." he says all too casually. Despite not facing him, she can feel him analyzing her. Her eyes flutter shut when he runs a finger between her lips, collecting the wetness that's already pooling. "Guess I should've known, though. So desperate after being rude to me all day."

She huffs into the pillow and it makes him snicker.

This time, he issues a second slap to the crease just above her thigh. The force pushes her forward just slightly, her eyes rolling back from the sting of pain as she buries her nose into the throw pillow. It smells like him, and it makes a zap of electricity sizzle down her spine.

"'s good," she slurs, swallowing wetly, "Feels good."

Harry hums as he wraps an arm around her waist and pushes her up onto her knees. A delayed yelp sounds from her mouth as he pulls her into his lap, glancing down to find his hard length throbbing underneath his sweatpants. He haphazardly reaches beneath the soft fabric and pulls himself out, pumping once before smearing the pre-cum over her pussy. She shudders from the dirty act.

"Want you inside," she says, biting down on her bottom lip.

"Yeah?" he mocks, pushing the tip of his cock inside. Her head dips back and she whimpers. "Let's play a game. First one to cum loses. Got it?"

"O-okay—"

But when he slams into a second later, a shattered moan escaping her throat, she already knows there's no way she's winning this game.

#bestie asks #writing #🐶 anon #ymls concept

[galkyrie]

First Kiss

Jason had thought about kissing Tim before. Early in the morning, when the pre-dawn sky was signaling their time in the shadows was up for the night, he thought about it. Sometimes, Tim'd look at him a little too long or his lips would quirk into a little too lopsided of a grin- the real one, the one reserved for his friends- and he'd think about it.

Moments like now, when the only clear way out of the unbelievably shitty situation they were in was certain death. Sacrifice, for the greater good.

Watching Tim fight against unbeatable odds, the downturn of his lips broadcasting he'd come to a similar conclusion about the way out of this? He wanted to throw his helmet off and kiss him for the first time. For the last time.

Jason loved this city. So fervently that it once felt like there was no room for anything else. He could do good here, still- had been doing good. Making his second lease on life really count.

He lived for this city.

But-

He'd die for Tim. If it was gonna be one of them- and nobody else was even close enough to the breach to be a factor, too busy trying not to be overrun- it should be him. It seemed fitting to have to do this in an old cathedral.

"Babybird," the endearment sounded off coming out of the helmet, far too monotone for the affection it carried when it left his lips. "I'm trustin' you to take care of my turf-" he kept himself calm as he spoke, ducking when Tim signaled and launched himself into the air from his shoulders, tossing disks in a rapid-fire spin.

"Shouldn't be too hard for ya- seein' as you live there already-" Bruce was fighting his way up to their position by the breach, Jason noted- probably having done the same math they had regarding their odds. He wasn't going to make it down the pews to the chancel in time to take either of their places, not at this rate.

"Hood, you don't-" Tim started to argue, landing in a roll before stabbing at one of the invading creature's joints with his bo and twisting until he heard a crack. Jason'd usually compliment the fancy footwork, but there wasn't time. Wasn't time to argue, either.

"You don't see any better option-"

"It doesn't have to be you-"

"It can't be you." His tone left zero room to argue. He- for all the good he did- Tim was better. Balancing the work in the light of day and in the dark- knew himself well enough to be able to walk up to his own line and work with people who crossed it without losing himself. He was Bruce if the man could truly wrestle the darkness and win. He wasn't an echo screaming out in that dark.

"Tim," the man's fighting was taking on a frantic edge- this argument was going to be meaningless if Tim got sloppy and got himself killed. "Take care of them for me, promise?"

"I," Tim spun again, driving his staff through a mechanical lens and activating the stun function with all that built up momentum, "I will." It was almost too quiet to hear. "I'll take care of them all." He promised, flicking his wrist and setting the ring of planted disks around them to ignite.

It bought them a moment in the onslaught- apparently all that Tim needed, because he was pressed up close and flying through the steps to unlock his hood before Jason could process the explosions around them.

Lips pressed to his, slightly chapped from the frigid winter air. It was everything he could've asked for in that moment, months of working cases together, sharing late-night meals, trading lingering glances clicked into focus.

He didn't dwell on how many of those moments- how many idle daydreams would've been able to come true, if only he'd done this when they'd had time-

Tim had done everything he could to buy them this much. It wouldn't do to use it to despair.

He kissed him back, guns dropping in favor of gripping his waist to savor the moment.

"I love you," Tim declared, resolute when he broke the kiss. "Remember that," he added, and Jason felt the blade slice through his hand.

Tim didn't hold back, using every bit of force to drive the knife through his hand and into the altar behind them.

Jason screamed, the pain spiking along his nerves a pale imitation of the wrenching feeling as he watched Tim bolt for the breach and leap into it. The tear in the universe shuddered, and Jason got a grip on the bloody hilt of his own blade and yanked hard. He wrenched himself free, heedless of the pain in his desperation to get to the breach before it-

Energy burst through the breach, hurling him back with the force of it. Bruce raced forward, catching his body as it was thrown back before he could make impact with the cold stone wall. Jason couldn't hear anything, eyes glued to where the tear folded in on itself, the only indication that he was still yelling the burn in his throat as the breach vanished, taking Tim with it.

#starting the year off with angst #jaytim #galkyrie writes #prompt response

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 43 - The Proposition

Astarion makes a proposition.

Warning: that shitty feeling when you're demisexual (with purity culture trauma) and someone you thought of as a friend propositions you with sex and you realize, in a survival situation, your choices are sex, or losing this friend and possible support. There's a happy ending eventually, but both of these people have serious issues.

On AO3.

“That went well,” Astarion says. He sits nearby on the unshattered stairs leading to the front door, hair dripping from the quick wash he’d given himself.

The air stinks of smoke and char and some nauseating, roast meat reek you refuse to think about. Everybody calmed down (Karlach) and most got their wounds treated. Shadowheart had conjured up a rain to put out a fire (with a fucking arrow in her hand), leaving the tollhouse a fire-gutted wreck. Fucker ain’t structurally sound in the slightest; you’ll ask Gale to thunderwave it before y’all leave to make sure no unsuspecting travelers try to take shelter and get crushed when the roof finally caves in.

Literally everybody got hurt except you. Lae’zel tore ligaments in her knee. Gale’s hands and half his face are mildly burned. Shadowheart actually got hit in the face with shrapnel in addition to the aforementioned arrow-through-the-hand. And Wyll is gashed down his side to his ribs.

Karlach is still burning too hot to be near anybody—she sits over in the road with her teddy bear.

And Astarion, who doesn’t need to breathe, inhaled smoke right after Harvey Dent gashed his head. You gave him a healing potion to help his lungs—he don’t need air to live, but he does need it to talk—because Shadowheart is triaging the magic she got left.

“They’re dead and we’re not, darling, and that is what matters,” Astarion says. He wipes his blades down again, having already inspected his bow (and found no damage).

He’s right. Y’all did what y’all had to. Karlach don’t got hunters on her tail no more, and none of the injuries are more than y’all’s resources can handle.

Except you are completely fine and none of the others are.

Astarion finishes up and slips his daggers back into the sheathes on his belt.

“We’re probably staying here for the night, huh?” you say.

“I can’t imagine the others will want to go far.” He looks to the rotting carcasses. “But I also don’t anticipate anyone, even the gith, wanting to linger amongst all this.”

You nod. You can help set up camp. That can be your contribution; you should really ask Gale for cooking lessons. Nobody fucks with the camp cook.

“Well, my dear,” Astarion says. “Shall we see what items might be left in that ruin? I’m rather sure I saw a basement.”

Bringing back presents also boosts morale.

“We probably shouldn’t go alone,” you say, and completely miss his smile turn sour. “Hey Karlach! You wanna see if they got shit in the basement?”

In the road, Karlach perks up. Woman has such golden retriever vibes.

***

Karlach ends up taking an ax to the charred hatch cover that does, indeed, lead to a basement. And then to the big doors Astarion can’t jimmy open—you let him search the ripe body y’all find down there. Must’ve been the toll collector. You got a sneaking feeling it wasn’t them dead gnolls outside that got him. Might be the way his gut is cleaved damn near in two, like some Harvey Dent motherfucker and his overcompensation sword nailed the guy.

Most of the boxes in that first room are empty, save some salvageable rags, which you stuff into your bag like there’s gonna be a shortage (you got maybe six or seven days until shark week, you suspect). Find a couple of broken weapons, a pair of frayed sandals, and not much else. But as you start into the second room, stepping over splintered wood, Astarion grabs your elbow.

“Careful darling,” he says. “There are traps about. Stay next to me, hmm?”

Circular grates dot the floor. A lot of them.

“Can you disarm these?” you say.

“Oh, I got it,” Karlach says, flexing her biceps unnecessarily (but not unappreciated). She skirts the first one, hefts up a heavy looking jar that comes up to your ribcage, and sets it over the grate. “There. Fucker can’t spew if it’s blocked, yeah?”

“Indeed,” Astarion says. “Why don’t you be a dear and go handle the others?”

“Aww, what’s a matter, Fangs?” she says, and if he were a cat, his ears would be plastered to his skull. “Can’t do a bit of heavy lifting?”

“I’d rather not dirty my hands, if it’s all the same to you,” he says, despite the fact that 1. he's wearing gloves and 2. he's still got dried blood crusted in the creases down the front of his armor.

Karlach looks at him for a second, and the both of them make weird facial expressions. Then she grins. And there’s something odd in that grin. And in the way she glances over to you.

“Gotcha,” she says. And saunters off to find more huge-ass pottery.

You start rummaging through the first box you see. Old clothes. Not moldy or covered in mildew or crusted bodily fluids, so into the pack they go. Move on to the next.

It’s quiet as you work. Karlach shuffles over to the corner, secures that vent, and starts rummaging herself.

Two boxes later and Astarion sighs. You look up, find him about where you left him, but leaning on a shelf with an arched brow.

He…hasn’t been looting?

“You alright?” you say. He don’t look injured. His arms are folded and you catch the barest flicker as he apparently resists the urge to roll his eyes.

Then he pastes on the smarm again. “I just wanted to take a moment to congratulate you. That was quite the plan, back there. Very effective.”

“Uh huh.”

He’s angling for something. And he seems to know that you know, and he leans into it. “Are all your plans going to be so vicious?”

“I’m not…it’s not on purpose. I’m not trying to cause…mayhem.”

“And yet you’re rather good at it.”

It’s still not a comfortable thought, that part of you. It’s keeping your ass alive, but if (when) you get home, you ain’t sure you’ll be able to cram it back into the box you took it out of.

“I don’t know how to fight and I can’t use magic,” you say. “If you don’t hit hard and hit first, you give them a chance to hit back and you get your ass handed to you. We cannot afford that.”

But no disgust wrinkles his face. No frown draws his brows together the way most people in this situation would.

“You know, my dear, some people might call that cowardice,” he says.

This time you get to roll your eyes. “Bet you those people die young.”

He barks out a laugh. Doesn’t seem to mean to, but his eyes are wide and sparkling in the dim torchlight. Karlach pauses her rummaging, and then begins again in earnest.

“I like you,” Astarion says. “It’s refreshing to talk to someone with a modicum of sense, for a change.”

Insulting the entire rest of the group. There’s a tactic that should work to do…whatever he’s trying to do here.

“Neat,” you drawl, using that extra second to try to get a fucking read on him.

“Honestly,” he says, and his voice drops. “I’m beginning to like the whole package. And you clearly like me, too, so…?”

You stare. After a moment, you realize he’s waiting for a response and you’re just standing there. You should probably put on a facial expression. You’re doing the blank face thing again and that tends to piss people off (you look like an idiot, you stupid girl, ohh I’m a stoic Indian hey-ya-huh-huh). You should really stop. You should stop right now.

You can’t stop.

“…so?” you finally manage.

“Come now,” Astarion says, expression dripping smarm. “Don’t be coy. Your body’s already given you away.”

What in the fuck is he talking about? What is this? The man flirts literally more than he breathes. He’s fucking with you, somehow, trying to get a reaction. You’re just not sure which one.

But his eyes widen in what really looks like a genuine smile. No malicious smirk, no smug, just…a man smiling at you.

“I could feel it, you know. As I was getting…” He steps towards you and you ain’t sure when he got that close. His gloved fingertips brush down your neck where he bit you, so featherlight, you ain’t even sure he actually touches you. “Getting lost in your neck. Your little shakes of excitement. You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

He is entirely too close. You can smell iron on his breath. That strange, almost electric charge that hugs his skin crackles against yours.

“Um,” you say.

He was this close when he bit you. His soft lips on your neck. His fucking tongue. And the noises he made slurping on your wrist. You ain’t never heard those kinds of noises outta someone before.

It’s his spit. It’s that memory effected by his goddamn vampire spit. Of course you had a physical reaction. That was normal.

But you barely know the man and having a chemically induced reaction like that don’t mean you want what you think he’s alluding to.

“I…I was trying to help, is all,” you say.

Thank fuck he steps back. Only to throw out his arms to show himself off. “And look how well it’s worked. I’ve never felt better, all thanks to you. So let me repay you for your noble sacrifice.”

Is it just you, or does his voice take on Wyll’s cadence over that last bit? (Yes, much better. Analyze that and not the situation unfolding here. So much better.)

But then he leans in again, lids all heavy.

“We could take an evening to ourselves,” he says, voice low and…and melty. “Get away from camp—get some privacy. I know somewhere quiet. Somewhere…intimate. Somewhere we can indulge in each other.”

He waits. You stare. Cause it sounds like he’s suggesting…?

He sighs. “And I do mean sex, to be clear.”

…no. No. He’s not. He can’t be. It ain’t the first time somebody joked like that with you (against you, using you as a prop to make their buddies laugh). But he don’t got no audience to play to. And he ain’t never took the joking this far. The others wouldn’t find that funny, would they? You want to look over to Karlach—suspiciously loud in her searching—but don’t think you can break his eye contact.

“You really don’t owe me for that,” you say. “I’d do it for anybody.”

He lets out that soft, high giggle. “But you didn’t do it for just anyone, darling. You did it for me. And that’s hardly the only reason. It’s more of an excuse, if anything. Assuming…you want that too, of course?”

Your chance to get the fuck out of this. But then he tilts his head down and what you suspect might be actual lust (might have been this whole time, oh god, you didn’t see, you never see until it’s too late, until it’s printed on a big, plastic sign some high school kid twirls over his head outside a roadside sandwich shop).

“But we both know you do,” he purrs.

Oh god. Oh sweet jesus.

You been friendly. You shoulda known better. People—men especially—always take it wrong. Why do they always take it wrong. Why is he targeting you for—

Oh.

Yes. That makes sense, don’t it.

A pile of lovers. That’s what he’d told Shadowheart he had. Man likes sex. Nothing wrong with that, but now he’s stuck out here with all y’all and who is the easiest target? Who has no backup? It’s the same reason he picked you to bite in the first place. You look as you do, so he probably pegged you from day one as the most desperate. The easiest prey. He wants a quick, no-strings lay, and who better than the fat girl with no connections to anybody?

You can say no. Logically, you know this. You don’t think he’s the type to hurt you for refusing (none of them ever seem like they would in all those crime stories, do they?). And Karlach stands right there. You’ve refused people before (it’s all you ever done).

But that was back home. You had a stable job and a couple of hundred bucks in a savings account and your own, one-bedroom apartment. You could stand on your own, two feet back then. Back there. If anybody tried to give you shit, you could call dad’s side or Sasha (who carried a baseball bat in the trunk of her car).

Here?

You’ll die without Gale’s blood potion—and it needs all of them to make. You can’t even ask for help without the dirt potion. You got a brainworm, and your best chance of not turning into a space monster is a band of people you keep leading into danger while you sit your fat ass in the background and take not a single fucking scratch.

What happens when you make a bad call? What happens when they get sick of covering for you? Coddling you? You are wholly dependent on their good will for food and a…and a fucking allowance.

You been trying not to think of that for a week. Of just how defenseless you are. How you worked so hard, and yet you are right back where you started, poor and helpless and vulnerable and staring down the barrel of fucking someone you don’t know.

Except you ain’t some twenty-year-old kid this time. Now you know what’s happening to you. Your body is on the market, and there’s no Sasha to swoop in with her pickup truck and whisk you away into the night.

“You’re…you’re not joking?” you rasp, throat drier than a salt flat.

Astarion blinks. “Darling, I would never about this.”

He wants to fuck you. Whatever reasoning (easiest prey, the lamed deer) he actually wants to fuck you.

You can’t feel your hands.

You’re not…possessive of your “virginity.” It ain’t some commodity (Mother). You know, intellectually, it’s an activity just like any other: riding in a hot air balloon, scuba diving, eating one of them lollipops with a bug inside (crickets actually don’t taste too bad, once you get over the leg barbs dragging on your tongue). You ain’t opposed to trying sex sometime.

It’s just…you barely know this man. You barely know any of them.

God, you’re being fucking precious. It’s just sex. People have sex all the time. They been having sex they weren’t enthusiastic about for thousands and thousands of years and they all survived just fine. This ain’t no different. And you can use this, right? Forge a…a…

(Relationship, and your stomach clenches.)

An alliance with him. That’s just good interpersonal insurance, right? He’s damn good with those knives. He’s even pretty—not that that part really matters to you; it’s the same category as “his shirt is white” and “his hair is white” and “his face is symmetrical and he’s got fangs.” Just an observation.

He watches you. Waiting. He expects an answer. He expects a yes. Possibly a gushing “oh me oh my, lowering yourself to offer me??”

It probably won’t be bad? Somebody with a pile of lovers in the city has to know what he’s doing? Orgasms feel great and other people really like sex. It’s just an activity. You were probably gonna do it at some point, anyway. This is just sooner than you anticipated. It probably won’t even last all that long, right?

It’s the smart move.

“I, um, yeah,” you say and now you can’t feel your face.

“Wonderful,” Astarion says, lighting up. “Once we have a chance, I promise you a night of passion you’ll never forget.”

You certainly won’t be forgetting your first time, you’re sure.

You can’t throw up on then man’s shoes. That would be the height of rudeness. God, you’re such a mess. Your body is wigging out for no reason. It’s not that big of a deal; there’s no reason you should be this light-headed.

“Oi! You two!” Karlach pops her head out of an aisle. “Think I found a secret door!”

Oh thank fuck. You want to hug Karlach. Swoon into her arms. Except she’s still on fire and you just told Astarion you’d have sex with him.

Astarion lifts his eyebrows and makes an intrigued noise. He starts past you, but pauses and leans in to whisper, “See you later, lover.”

Your heart lurches. It’s not a good feeling. The pit in your stomach only grows when Karlach—behind Astarion’s back—catches your eye and gives you a grin and two thumbs up.

She knows. Oh sweet christ.

You smile back and hope it doesn’t look as weak as it feels.

***

Notes:

Next chapter will contain trigger warnings. Saturday's update: Dance with the Devil in the Pale Moonlight

#feeding alligators fic #these two shitheads #astarion fic #bg3 fic #astarion x tav #tavstarion #purity culture trauma #demisexual trauma #demisezual tav #plus size tav #the sadness arc #angst with a happy ending

[kazimakuwabara]

My Sweater Now

Summary: He didn't want the sweater, until he did. (Aka I'm thinking about old Kuwabara knitting again)

***

“Lift up them arms, shorty.”

For the life of him, Hiei wasn’t sure why he listened to those words, but the next thing he knew, he had his arms lifted above his head, and a sweater being shoved down atop him.

“What the fuck?” Hiei managed, as he helped push the rest of the sweater’s neck over his head. 

He glanced down at an indigo colored sweater that had been forced over his head, and then back to the man who had somehow gotten it on him with a few shitty words.

Kuwabara laughed at Hiei’s expression, calmed, and then laughed again when he dared to crack an eye open.

“Dude, calm down! Your gaze could kill!”

“I wish!” Hiei seethed.

“You do not!” Kuwabara snorted bending to roll down the neck of the sweater. Kuwabara grinned, deep lines digging into the groove of his face as he tried to adjust the sweater around HIei, “Well… It’s a bit big isn’t it?”

“A bit big for what?” Hiei asked looking down at the sweater. It went past his knees.

“As a sweater... for you,” Kuwabara sighed, righting himself, and tilting his head to the side. He frowned as he stared at it.

“...Why the fuck did you make this?” Hiei growled, holding his arms from his body, and staring at the sleeves that were six inches too long on each arm, “And whose measurements did you use?”

“It’s my first sweater, so I took a guess. So sue me,” Kuwabara dismissed, pulling his glasses from his pocket. He slipped them on the brim of his nose, regarded Hiei again, and then burst into a loud laugh again, “Oh no. This is really too much, isn’t it? Well… fuck!”

Kuwabara sat down on his couch, still looking at Hiei with amusement.

“Why is this on me? Why did you make it? Just… Why?” Hiei huffed, twisting as he tried to look at himself in every angle of the new garment.

“I’ve been knitting; it keeps my hands nimble,” Kuwabara answered holding up his index finger. As he continued to list, he held up another finger, “Kurama is constantly complaining how underdressed you are in the winter, and I thought fuck it. Why not?”

Kuwabara caught one of Hiei’s long sleeves, and taking pity on Hiei began to roll it up to his elbow. With affection, he added, “I dunno… I wanted to do something for you, and I thought this would be an easy and nice gesture.”

“...You thought knitting a sweater would be easy?” Hiei snorted. He rolled his eyes but offered out his other sleeve to Kuwabara so he could roll it up too.

“I’m ambitious,” Kuwabara admitted, grinning to himself. “I just wanted you to keep warm.”

“As I constantly must remind you fools, I’m a fire demon!” Hiei sighed. “I can warm myself!”

“You shouldn’t expend your energy all the time!” Kuwabara tutted. “At our age, you should be careful.”

“Kuwabara, you’re fifty-five, and I’m one hundred and eleven. We’re still spry!” Hiei snorted glaring down at the sweater. “This is a fucking dress!”

Kuwabara didn’t answer, but smiled at Hiei softly, his head cocked to his side. He wondered absently if Hiei understood what Kuwabara’s age even meant. Not wanting to drag the mood down, Kuwabara offered, “I could make Yukina one in pink. You can match.”

“Don’t you dare. She’ll wear it and make me wear this!” Hiei huffed.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll make you something else. I can give this to someone else, or use it myself. It’s too big anyway,” Kuwabara offered, holding out his hands.

Hiei flitted away from him then, disappearing and then reappearing across the room. Hiei had rolled the sleeves back down and was squatting like an angry frog inside the overabundance of knitted material. With his eyes narrowed he snapped, “No. Fuck you, it’s mine now.”

Kuwabara laughed with disbelief, “You don’t have to pretend to like it-”

“Since when am I that charitable!? It’s warm. …It’s mine!” Hiei tutted.

Kuwabara grinned wider, the smile lines of his face settling in his skin even deeper. Crow’s feet crinkled around his eyes as he grinned at Hiei, and shook his head, “Fine Hiei, it’s yours. But if you want me to take it back, and try to knit you something that’ll fit, I don’t mind-”

“Fuck off. It’s mine.”

Kuwbara laughed as Hiei settled into it.

Hiei couldn’t quite fathom what compelled him to let Kuwabara put it on him, but Hiei damn sure wasn’t going to let Kuwabara take it off him now.

#kazi fanfic #bitter sweet #hiei #kazuma kuwabara #yyh #kuwabara

[insertsickusername13]

haven't reread this or edited it. idc. it's cute. enjoy.

word count: 3k

warnings: child abuse (rich's whole situation with his dad---it's not bad, and it's only mentioned in one paragraph, but it's there enough that it's worth mentioning)

Jake was standing in the center of the crowded hallway leaning heavily on his cane. Freshmen and seniors alike twisted and stumbled out of the way as they rushed down to lunch. His feet were shoulder width apart and his chin held high, much like a rock in the center of a rushing river.

Rich was hyper-aware of Jake from the second he slipped out of pre-calc, his attention (much like everyone else’s) immediately drawn to him. Tall. Confident. He stood like he belonged to the extent those who had to dodge out of his way were convinced they were the ones in the wrong, not him.

“And they say Christine’s dramatic,” Rich greeted. He sidestepped out of the current of students into the safety of Jake’s shadow. Jake’s gaze flickered from somewhere in the distance down to Rich and immediately his expression morphed from one of deep concentration to rosy excitement. Then, as if realizing himself, Jake pressed his lips together and snuffed out his happiness like a flame (not the first fire Jake had put out, both metaphorically and literally).

“We need to talk,” he said simply, tone barren and controlled. Rich masked the instinctive panic that promptly flooded the room at those words behind an amused quirked eyebrow.

“Intense opening line,” he commented, “8/10. Delivery could’ve been better.”

Jake’s purposeful intensity faltered just long enough for him to duck his head to hide his summertime smile. Rich, despite already sorting through all the worst-case scenarios—death, hatred, squips and secrets—did a small, mental fist pump. Having the newfound freedom to think his own thoughts without anyone there to criticize him besides his own subconscious meant spending an increasing amount of time dedicating himself to seeing Jake smile, watching him laugh, and feeling no shame at the way life seemed to return to every previously colorless corner of the room, the way his heart so hard he was convinced it was a destructive force rather than a romantic one.

“Shut up, I’m being serious.”

It’d been a minute, at least, and the halls were slowly emptying out of bystanders. Rich shifted back slightly, now free to be farther away from Jake without being trampled. Self-preservation kept him from creeping closer even as he shivered at the cold that slithered into the room at Jake’s distance.

Rich tried to keep his voice from trembling as he got out, “Okay, then. Talk to me.”

Jake shook his head and Rich frowned.

Rich felt dread, yes. Though it couldn’t have been past noon, a bluish-black dusk almost the same color as a bruise was swimming in his vision and dragging its sharp nails over every inch of exposed skin. Rich was restless in his desperation to get as far from this conversation as possible, a feeling so overwhelming he had to consciously talk himself down from an anxiety attack.

But where Rich’s anxiety manifested itself in his fidgeting fingers and tapping foot—something that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him, even a relatively calm Rich was a jittery Rich—Jake looked like he’d just watched tragedy strike an entire nation.

“Not here,” he muttered, so quiet Rich was convinced he didn’t want him to hear. “…Library? Or—”

“Library works,” Rich smiled, “We can watch horny freshmen make out in the back while we… break up? Platonically? I don’t know what you’re planning on.”

Jake didn’t seem to find Rich’s facetiousness amusing. He looked down at his shoes, seemingly deeply entertained by the intricacies of his poorly tied laces.

“Perfect,” he whispered, his voice taking on a customer-service tone he adopted when he knew his natural voice would be on the verge of breaking. Rich couldn’t even find it in him to summon another shitty joke.

Jake led Rich to the library briskly, ignoring the cafeteria completely while Rich cast a longing glance back at his lunch table, where all his friends were laughing without a care in the world.

Jake was facing straight ahead and a step ahead of Rich—his face was out of view, but Rich could hear the faint sound of him reciting a speech to himself, rehearsing whatever he was going to say to Rich in a moment. Rich strained to hear every—any—word, but all he got were empty shells of sorry and we can fix it.

“Okay,” Jake said as he pulled out Rich’s chair and sat across from him, his cane leaning against the table. They were sat in the back of the library by a window. Jake dropped his backpack on the ground next to him and unzipped it, pulling out a binder Rich had never seen before. Strange, considering Rich had sat through every pre-test, stress-induced haze while Jake paced the living room, reciting definitions from flashcards and making Rich read aloud passages from binders that only slightly resembled the one on the table between them.

Rich let out a tiny sigh of relief that he hoped wasn’t noticeable. So it was just a test or presentation—something important enough to Jake’s final grade that he was freaking out enough that he’d totally missed the mini-mental breakdown he’d caused Rich.

Jake took a deep breath. Rich leaned back, prepared and patient to listen as Jake first apologized for bothering him, then made Rich quickly skim the source material before quizzing him on every possible question or logic fallacy that would most surely never show up on a test intended for high schoolers. Rich wasn’t bothered when Jake’s expression changed from nervous to one of pure determination and cynical analysis—he was well accustomed to this version of Jake, one who compartmentalized until all the dark and scary feelings were just files to be sorted rather than genuine emotions to be processed. He’d get through it eventually, but only after he’d solved whatever problem he was facing.

“Physics?” Rich guessed. Jake looked up from his papers, barely aware of what Rich had said, his focus completely and utterly on the task at hand.

“What?”

“Physics? Is that what we’re studying?”

Another moment of awkward silence before Jake finally seemed to understand.

“Oh,” he said, “No. No, worse. Here.”

He passed Rich a paper—a timeline, starting December 3rd. Rich didn’t get the chance to read a single word before Jake shoved another paper into his hand, this one a calendar for this month—April. Then a list. A picture. A color-coded set of notes. A survey? Rich scrambled to organize himself as Jake shoved yet another paper into his hand, this one a printed-out, annotated article from one sketchy health website or another.

“Do you want a chance to review the material before I start, or can I just jump right in?”

Rich looked up helplessly from the April calendar and squeaked, “Huh?”

Jake studied him for a moment, gaze a stormy mix of expectancy and determination. Then, having come to a conclusion Rich wasn’t privy to, he said, “We’re going to start on page one.”

Rich blinked at him.

“Timeline,” Jake clarified, “The first paper I handed to you.”

Rich struggled through the pile of papers until he pulled the timeline out. He displayed it to Jake proudly only to be met with a nervous smile that quickly faded into a grimace.

“Alright,” Jake said, his voice quivering in a similar fashion to a guitar string—musically, beautifully. He clenched his paper to the point it crinkled. “As you can see, it starts December 3rd, the day I first visited you in the hospital, and ends yesterday.”

Rich’s eyes flit from the beginning to the end of the timeline to confirm Jake’s words. He nodded, unsure as to why Jake’s tidbit about the hospital was necessary.

“So upon first contact post-fire, we ignored the topic of the fire and simply discussed the play and Jeremy, correct?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Good. And you didn’t apologize until the 8th, the next date marked on the timeline.”

Rich found the 8th, labeled ‘THE APOLOGY’ in all caps. Rich searched the words for a hidden meaning, praying it’d also be the birthday of some American president or treaty signing.

“I was, at first, resistant, but by the 11th I had come to forgive you. I visited again and we discussed possible steps forward.”

Unsurprisingly, the 11th was the next marked date. Rich swallowed a confused sob.

“Yeah, I know,” Rich said, the words tumbling out of his throat like his body was trying to purge him of a poison, “What the fuck?”

Jake continued without so much as looking up.

“On the 20th, you were released from the hospital. You, your brother, and I all spent Christmas at my apartment—purchased before the timeline began—over the 25th and into the 26th. Does that sound right to you?”

“Yes. Still kind of dark times, though, so if we could skip to—”

“You moved in on January 5th.”

Rich’s memory of that day lived serenely in the back of his mind to be summoned with perfect clarity whenever he felt unworthy or scared. It had been impulsive and dangerous—Rich had called Jake in the middle of the night, bruised and scared and exhausted. He’d come home from a six-hour shift on the verge of collapse, his burns itching and screaming, the lingering memory of the squip spouting deprecations at the way he winced with every step. He was unlucky enough to find his father still conscious in the living room, anger emanating off of him in waves of violence that manifested in thrown dishes and kicked over trashcans because where the fuck have you been?! You think you have any right to parade around with your rich friends while your family is stuck here?! You should’ve been—

The list was long. You should’ve been cleaning the dishes, making dinner, doing the laundry. He made it worse by crying.

He stayed kneeling in the kitchen long after his father passed out on the couch and, with shaking hands, because he didn’t want to cry anymore—he really, really didn’t want to cry—he called Jake.

Jake offered every cliche affirmation and more. You’re enough, you’re more than enough, I love you, you deserve better, you’re beautiful, you’re smart, I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you.

All the while, Jake was texting Michael. He still had his casts on—he couldn’t drive, and Michael told Rich later that he’d never seen someone manage to sound so panicked over text.

Less than twenty minutes later, Michael had snuck in the window. He cleaned the broken dishes, set the trashcan upright, and picked Rich up off the floor and dragged him kicking and screaming out of his father’s house.

“No, no, no, I can’t leave, he needs me, he needs me—”

Upon collapsing into Jake’s arms ten minutes later, Rich realized he needed to be loved a lot more than his dad needed him. He didn't go back.

“Yeah,” Rich breathed, “I remember.”

“January 15th: The first incident happens.”

“Incident?” Rich asked blankly, his mind still replaying the car ride from his father’s to Jake’s house.

“Yes. Any urges to kiss you or—or more, will be referred to using the term ‘incident,’ whereas more innocent urges—possibly wanting to go out on a date, or hold your hand, things along those lines—will be referred to using ‘episodes.’”

“Mhm,” Rich confirmed mindlessly. Jake’s words drifted up and around him much water falling off his face and body rather than sinking into his skin. It took Jake’s heavy gaze—staring expectantly, his lips parted, forming questions Rich couldn’t hear.

Wait. What?

“Go back,” Rich rushed out, back straightening. Hope hadn’t sunk in yet—he wasn’t quite there. Only confusion. “What the hell?”

Jake nodded once. He’d been expecting this reaction.

“Beginning January 7th, I developed a crush on you.”

Instead of turning to Jake, Rich turned to the papers for confirmation. He scoured the timeline for the words crush or love. All he got were incident #4 (#7, #9, #54, #78) and episode #7 (#15, #29, #156).

Shaky, he rushed to the next paper. A list of twenty entitled Modes for Moving On. The article from Healthline or Web MD: Psychologists Estimate Crushes become a True Love After Four Months.

“I’m sorry,” Jake whispered, his voice so simply scared Rich was convinced he must be hiding from a monster under the bed or the boogyman—a childish fear. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You—” Rich started. He distantly heard Jake make a strangled sound but was too lost in flashes of the past three and a half months. Jake, flinching away when Rich got too close—Rich blaming it on the fire. Jake going out with three different girls in a week with no sign of stopping until Brooke slapped him and told him to stop playing with people’s feelings. The way he’d listened to Brooke but had been staring at Rich the whole time, his shoulders hunched over as he tried to curl in on himself.

“I… I don’t understand,” Rich whispered, though of course, by now, understanding was settling in his spine and gripping his nervous system like it was the only thing tethering him to reality. Jake liked him. Jake liked him.

“I’m trying to fix it. That’s the point. The article—”

Jake was in such a blind rush to show Rich that he practically fell from his chair, kicking it back with a ferocity as he stood and winced, his legs unprepared for the sudden weight on them.

“Fuck—the article, four months, right? And—” he hastily re-situated his chair and stumbled over to Rich, his hands clumsily shuffling through the papers until he managed to shove the Healthline/Web MD article in Rich’s face.

“See! Four months! I’ve still got two weeks, right? I’m not in love with you. I’ve got—I’ve got a plan. I looked up a bunch of stuff on the internet on how to move on, and it all told me to like, avoid you and stuff, but I can’t do that, so instead I’m ‘loving myself’ and ‘working through lingering feelings’—just a bunch of weird self-care stuff, but I’m fucking desperate, I’ll—”

He straightened suddenly, struck with the realization he’d just been so close to the source of all his problems. His expression singed and pride marred, he backed up a step, posture erect and his faked smile tight. He shook out his hands and turned to the sky for a quick moment. When he finally spoke again, it was in the same presenter’s tone he’d been offering since the beginning. In control; calm. His acting was worse than it had been in the play. Rich could hear every bit of panic running under his tone.

“Following the ten-step plan outlined on page seven, these feelings should be resolved by the 13th, with two days of cushion time in case one or two steps are thwarted or interfered with. I thought it right to make you aware of, of my intentions. I do think it would be best if I—”

Rich did the only thing he could think of to stop Jake from talking. He threw the nearest highlighter at Jake’s face.

For a moment afterward, there was only silence. Jake’s eyes were crossed to try and see where he’d been hit, right below the nose, and Rich was so mortified by his own unfounded actions to even begin to apologize.

“…You could’ve just said you don’t feel the same,” Jake finally murmured. He looked like he was physically fighting melancholia from his face and trying to stuff it into one of his file cabinets. He failed, and he had to turn away so Rich couldn’t see. He appeared to be blinking back tears.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking dramatic.”

Jake pouted. Rich laughed delightedly and got up to take Jake’s hands in his own. Jake stayed staring at the floor.

“Next time, just tell me how you’re feeling, yeah? Would’ve saved a lot of trees.”

Jake sniffled.

“I like you," Rich grinned, "If you somehow missed that. For a lot more than four months, too.”

Finally, Jake looked at Rich, his expression open and hopeful, a smile comparable to everything springtime and flowery blooming on his face.

“Really?” he whispered.

“Yes, really.”

“Oh. Oh my god.”

“Yeah.”

Unable to stop himself any longer, Rich got up on his tippy toes, smiling softly, in an attempt to kiss Jake for the first time. His crush liked him back—

Jake jerked away, eyes wide and mortified.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god, that was so fucking embarrassing. Oh my god. I literally told you when I fell in love with you. Oh my god. We’re not even dating.”

Rich tried to suppress his smile—just for Jake’s dignity—but a small laugh escaped him before he could stop himself. Jake’s face went from a rosy red to the color of wine. Rich wanted to kiss it off him.

“No, stop it," Jake said, "don’t say anything. This didn’t happen. Oh my god. Get out! Now!”

“What?” Rich said, his amusement so complete in essence he was sure Jake could feel it like a slap across the face, “Why?”

“Because!!!” Jake screeched, “I need to destroy all the evidence! Then I’m just going to ask you out like a normal person, Jesus fuck. No. I’m just going to ask Chloe to kill me. She’ll be glad to. Goodbye.”

Jake spun back to the table and, without organizing them in the slightest (something so un-Jake-like Rich seriously considered the possibility that this whole thing had been orchestrated by a clone), shoved the papers back into his backpack, uncaring that half of them were ripped or crinkled. When he turned back to Rich, it was like nothing had ever happened. He looked like he had that morning: happy in a Jake way. Almost like a golden retriever, ready to do whatever necessary to make the people around him smile. In control. Suave and nonchalant; a flirt.

Jake conjured a look of confusion onto his face.

“Dude, what the fuck, you didn’t tell me you were French.”

“What?! Dude—” Rich giggled into his hand, so delighted by the entire affair he couldn’t even really be confused by Jake’s sudden assumption that Rich was French, of all things, “—I’m not fucking French.”

“Really?” He squinted at Rich, “Because I could’ve sworn Eiffel for you.”

He flashed Rich a grin and a peace sign before swooping down like he was going to kiss Rich. He stopped last second, less than an inch away, and carefully cupped Rich’s jaw. Rich watched as the confident exterior Jake had managed to summon last second slipped into a pure, childish excitement. His breath caught for a moment, so utterly elated at the idea that he was this close to kissing Rich—

Rich tried to close the gap. Jake’s fingers dug into Rich’s jaw, something that could’ve quite possibly been considered violent had it come from anyone else, but Jake seemed so set on making sure Rich wasn’t hurt that the show of strength came off as affectionate rather than scary. Rich frowned.

“When you tell people how we got together,” Jake seethed. Though his humor had darkened into a bad boy character that suspiciously resembled the love interest of a romance movie he and Jake had watched together a week ago, it was offset by the fact Rich had seen the utter awe on his face a moment earlier. “You tell them about this, yeah? That—” with his free hand, he motioned vaguely to the table behind them. “—that never happened. I fed you a nice pickup line and you liked it. Understood?”

“Perfectly,” Rich said, his voice so quiet and seductive Jake was forced to pull away before he did something he’d regret.

Then, the second they arrived at their lunch table, “Jenna motherfucking Rolan, you will not believe what just happened—”

#jake dillinger #rich goranski #bmc #be more chill musical #richjake #romanceeee #sparkly star fanfic #it's like. so cute i'm not even judging it like i usually judge my writing #that right there? i'm sharing it for the concept #idc if it reads horribly it's ADORABLE #and something jake would do idc what u say #this reminds me actually one day i plan on drawing richjake fanart and posting it #and it's gonna be SO SO BAD #but i'm going to say i spent forever on it and worked so hard so any of my friends here are forced to pretend they like it #even tho it prolly took like two minutes #i'll do it on april first too #hashtag u got pranked bitch

[sunshinediaz]

wip wednesday (on a thursday!)

forgot i can literally do whatever i want so here's a snippet from a long way from your heart which is not published but, uh, soon?

Chim hums, contemplative and quiet, and drinks more of his champagne. Eddie leaves him to it and continues to watch Buck as he makes an absolute fool of himself, attempting to swing Athena and Chris and Maddie all around in a messy circle.  It’s endearing, terribly so. Eddie’s heart warms, and beats and beats, and swells, encompassing his whole chest till there’s no room left for anything else. He’s been in love before—once, with Shannon—and it was all-consuming and mind-numbing, rich and decadent and intense in the way it ate the both of them up, but it’s different this time. Calmer, safer, secure and lingering like fingers of sunshine through wide-open windows.  They were fire, both he and Shannon. They raged and smoldered until they burned one another up, taking from each other but never giving in return. It’s part of the reason why Eddie felt the need to enlist the second time, part of the reason why Shannon left when Eddie was home for good and never returned even after things with her mother were settled.  Everything Eddie loves about the world, Shannon loved, too. They were the same in the way you’re only the same with few people in this life—the way you don’t have to finish your thought because you know they’re already thinking it, as well. Thick as thieves and the best of friends, but not the greatest teammates.  He loved Shannon, and he always will, but it hurt. In the end, when he was burned and she was charred, both beyond recognition and so far away from the kids they were when they fell in love, and neither one of them could help the other, it hurt. He grieved her before she died, and long after she passed, too, because he was never able to cool her fire.  He’s sure she felt the same way and realized it before he did, especially when Frank had him work through their conversation at the restaurant when she asked for a divorce. He sobbed, ugly and messy and red-faced in his kitchen while Chris was at school, and laughed so hard his stomach hurt after. She was always quicker on the uptake than him.  When he thinks of her now, he doesn’t hurt. His memories are fond and bittersweet, yellow at the corners like a faded photograph, and he shares as much as he can with his son. He can’t quite remember the shade of her eyes anymore, but Chris has her lopsided grin and sometimes his skin still tingles when he remembers her, a physical reminder of her burning love.  Buck isn’t fire. He’s water—he’s floods of crooked smiles, rushes of caresses on sore muscles, flows of laughter even when Eddie’s not being very funny at all. He’s warm showers after a bad day and thick blankets in the morning when the sun’s shining through the curtains and listening to the rain fall outside during the night. He’s calm. He’s peace and he’s trust and he’s faith. He’s shitty attitudes and bad times and tears and cold feet on Eddie’s back in the middle of the night just because he can. He’s acceptance and stability and promise and magical and a brightness so vivid, so blinding it lights up Eddie’s entire world, and he doesn’t burn. He doesn’t hurt.   Loving Buck is so easy because it doesn’t hurt. 

something something i like to explore the particular brand of queerness i've slapped on eddie by delving into the complexity of his emotions for his wife and the simplicity of his emotions for buck because nothing is strict black and white and eddie's working it out in his brain, okayyy??

anyway <3

#wip wednesday #it's not wednesday but that's what i'm tagging it as #buddie #buddie fic

[sgtbradfords]

"Don't close your eyes. Please don't close your eyes!"

Warning: Major Character Death

"I'm tired." she mumbled softly.

Tim ran a bloody hand over her hair, pushing the errant locks behind her ear. "I know you are, baby." he choked back the lump that had formed in his throat. "But you have to stay awake Lucy, I need you to stay awake.

She savored his touch, the lashes of her eyes brushing against her cheek as she closed them with a forlorn smile. "Say that again."

"Say what?"

Tim laid on the ground beside her, his head only a few inches away from her own as the duty belt around his hips pushed uncomfortably into his stomach. His forearms were peppered with various scratches and gashes from the broken pieces of glass that covered the hot asphalt, leaving trails of blood to form its own paths.

But Tim didn't care about any of the discomfort, he wasn't going anywhere.

Opening her eyes, a rouge tear made its way down the side of her face and into her hair. "Baby," Lucy's solemn brown eyes met his panicked blue. She had always admired the shade, how sometimes they could be as calm as the ocean while other times they raged like a summer storm passing through. But today, those same eyes that frequented her dreams were a shade she had not seen in quite some time. The warmth that she could stare at for hours on end was replaced with sorrow, telling her what she already knew.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't," his voice cracked in anguish, from the turmoil he was feeling inside. "Don't apologize. I'm not going to let you die on some shitty street Lucy."

It wasn't supposed to end this way.

They were supposed to address the elephant that broke them apart.

They were supposed to get married and have a kid or two that would become Kojo's best friend.

They were supposed to have promotions, grow old, retire.

They were supposed to tell the grandkids about their second first date.

They were supposed to get their happily ever after.

Funny how life works out, is it not? One minute you're in the shop, in pursuit of a wanted suspect and the next, your laying on your back with the one ton vehicle on top of you.

The Los Angeles Fire Department had been on scene since before Tim had arrived, stabilizing the shop and placing cribbing underneath the roof and struts into the back end. But something short of a miracle, there was nothing else that could be done. If they were to move the vehicle off of Lucy, she would bleed out in an instant.

"You should- you should know better, than to make promises you can't keep, Tim." her breaths were ragged, a copper taste filled her mouth which caused a wet, sticky trail to run freely from the corner of her mouth with every spoken word as Tim carried on the plea, "Then how about I promise to tell you just how much I love you, for the rest of our lives?"

"That sounds- nice." she agreed with a whisper. "What- what does it look like?"

"The rest of our lives?"

Impatiently, Lucy nodded her head. He didn't need to know about the figure that loomed behind him.

"It happens after a rough shift. We were both ready to go to our homes, take a shower and sleep. But home isn't a place, is it?" she gave him a bloody smile. "We would talk, again, figure out how to balance my weird hours with maintaining a relationship instead of just assuming it can't be done. Three months later, I would ask you in the conference room to spend the rest of your life with me."

Lucy watched as a rouge tear glided down the slope of his face. Without thought she raised a hand, using the pad of her thumb to wipe it away.

"Only three months? That- that seems, kind of fast." Tim grabbed that same hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips as his kiss lingered. "Don't you think we've waited long enough?"

Three years was too long when everything was so right.

"We get married a year later. It's small, at a place we both fell in love with, a couple hours north of the city. Almost two years later, you think you have a bad case of food poisoning."

"But- but it's not." she smiled knowingly as a chill washes over her.

"No," he smiles back. "No it's not. She's fiery and independent and has my eyes and your dimples, and I swear Lucy, she causes me more stress than the job ever has."

"She-she's," Lucy wets her lips as Tim finishes her thought, "She's perfect."

Her voice cracks as she nods. "Tim? Take care, Ta-Tamara. Promise?"

"You're not leaving us Lucy." he pressed his lips against her knuckles once more.

"Promise me Tim."

The tears fell freely from Tim's eyes as he whispered, "I promise."

"I lo-ve," her body trembles as her vision begins to fade.

"I love you too, baby." his free hand lands on top of the one he held, holding the limb with both hands. "I love you." he repeated the affirmation like a prayer as he watched her breaths fade.

Sometimes the greatest things we experience in life, are never meant to last forever.

#thanks for the ask! #em answers #fanfic #chenford fic #chenford fanfic #asks #anon

[theladyofdeath]

I don’t know if you still want fluffy prompts, but the fluffiest Fensterin ever where they’ve both had shit days and they just cuddle on the couch for a movie night to cheer up

I love u. Enjoy the fluff.

Warnings: language, liquor, mentions of sex.

Ships that we wish could have been: Fenrys x Asterin

Fenrys stormed through the door fired up, pissed off, wanting to throw a punch but thinking better of it, which is why he came straight home instead of joining his work friends at the bar.

If he came home with a black eye, his girlfriend would have his ass.

Again.

Working in customer service was a shit show. After all these years, Fenrys could not believe he went to university for five years just to end up managing a clothing store that middle-aged, bitchy women shopped in for their husbands that made triple digits a year while they sat at home all day in the pool sipping gin. Not that he would hate that life. He wondered if after they got married, Asterin would let him be a stay at home dog-dad, so that he could day drink in a pool all day and call it classy.

Not that he ever would. He would spend one day at home alone and his ADHD would have him ready to combust. No, he liked being a working man....just not when he spends hours on end getting belittled by people that don't even know him.

Bitter. He was bitter.

Yet, the second he crossed the threshold into he and Asterin's house, he stilled. Soft music played from the living room and he instantly knew what that meant: her day had been shit, too.

Asterin was a pure soul. She was more in tune with herself than anyone Fenrys had ever known. Every morning, she awoke and did yoga and meditated before doing anything else. It was how she started off each day.

She only did it at night when she needed to recall her calm.

After slipping off his shoes, Fenrys came around the corner of the living room on silent feet and saw her sitting in the middle of the rug, legs crossed, back straight, eyes closed. Her palms rested facing up on her knees and she was taking deep breaths in and out, in and out, in and out.

She looked so peaceful that he smiled to himself before slowly backing up and walking into the kitchen. While Asterin meditated and channeled her inner self, Fenrys had other ways of winding down after a shitty day.

He grabbed his good whiskey out of the cabinet above the stove and took a shot before mixing another with a glass of Coke. It didn't burn going down. No, this heavenly shit felt like water going down. It was dangerous, but oh so good.

In the living room, the relaxing music came to a stop, the river - or rainforest or whatever it had been - sounds slowly trickled into nothingness and then he heard Asterin sigh. When she came around the corner of the kitchen, she yelped, jumping back, upon the sight of Fenrys leaning back against the island, drinking from his glass.

He grinned. "Hi."

"You scared me!" she said, hand over her chest, and Fenrys felt like he had just reversed every second of meditation she had just endured. "When did you get home? I didn't hear you come in."

"I've only been here for about five minutes." He nodded to the living room. "I didn't want to interrupt. Bad day?"

She snorted. "Let's just say that I thought about setting the office on fire at least twenty times an hour." She gestured to his glass. "You?"

"I hate karens," he replied, simply. "My day was filled with them."

Asterin laughed quietly as she approached him and wrapped her arms around his middle. "Well, you have tomorrow off, so drink as much of that as you'd like," she said, and leaned up on her toes to press her mouth softly to his.

Fenrys hummed in agreement. "Wanna order take-out and watch a movie?"

Her eyes lit up. "I'm surprised you even have to ask."

Fenrys ordered from The Starlight Diner because they delivered, and thirty minutes later they had their food and the opening credits of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows up. Part two, of course, considering part one put Fenrys to sleep every damn time. With a full glass in front of him, Fenrys pressed play and leaned back against the couch, putting his arm around his girlfriend, his future wife, and eating his sandwich and fries.

Halfway through the movie, when his second glass was empty, it all became background noise as he laid Asterin down and worshiped her, slowly. Her cries of pleasure were all he needed to meditate on.

As the rolling credits came, they laid together gloriously nude on the couch wrapped in a heap of blankets. Asterin's cheek was against his chest and she was sleeping, soundly. He didn't want to wake her, didn't want to move an inch. So he played the movie again until he fell asleep with her, feeling perfectly calm.

#fensterin #fenrys moonbeam #asterin blackbeak #ships that could have been #tog #throne of glass #kingdom of ash #koa #sjm #fanfic #fanfiction #drabble #oneshot #short #prompts #asks #from the drafts #tara answers prompts #theregalwarrior #modern au

[mr-stingkey]

long ass personal post incoming!

okay so as you might have guessed i'm a traumatized little baby. fortunately between therapy, medication, and time passing i feel like i've pretty well "gotten over" most of the traumatic events of my life. like i still get triggered occasionally but i don't feel like my trauma controls my life nearly as much as it did before.

well! there is one notable exception. so, when i was a kid, i went to the same summer camp 9 weeks over the span of 10 years. i loved it. i got super close to people my age which was super hard for me anywhere else as a shy, autistic, gender nonconforming little weirdo. i loved being outside and getting way more exercise than i would otherwise. being away from my parents. camp activities. as i got older, being recognized as a camper who keeps coming back. i loved camp stuff in general. so what else would i have done besides begin working there as an adult?

it was hard. bad pay for doing childcare nearly 24 hours a day 5-6 days a week. few breaks. just exhausting and stressful. but i still loved a lot of it despite all of that. i loved getting close to the other staff, helping campers find joy in all the parts of camp i loved as a kid. but my third summer all the stress and exhaustion started getting to me. on top of that, i was depressed. i was working harder and getting fewer breaks than ever before because my bosses saw me as dependable. and i was. i did what i was asked without complaining, at least not to my bosses. at the same time, i also became less of a stellar employee. i made bad decisions. when i was questioned about some of these decisions, i told the truth. (i know now i should've lied. i am pro lying to your employer. fuck work.) i was subsequently fired the last day i was thinking about working anyway.

boom - trauma. i was told and believed i was part of a family, and i was just as quickly kicked out of that family without a second thought.

when i got home and what had happened truly hit me, i took down all the camp stuff that had decorated my room, put it in boxes, and hid it under my bed. (it's still under my bed.)

i was extremely angry at the man who fired me. i had been going to camp for years before he had even heard of it, much less began working there, and he had the audacity to fire me for things other counselors were doing as well. after this happened, i understood why people murder their bosses after they get fired. but i wanted desperately to work at camp the next year, even if it meant i had to work under him. the next summer, i asked to work again and was rejected. i didn't try that hard to convince him to let me come back, though. i was terrified of him. i was miserable all summer - even more depressed than last year. awful summer. i also got broken up with, which made everything worse, but that's another topic entirely.

this summer rolls around. i'm medicated now. i feel much better about life. i'm not employed (sigh), but i have other things keeping me busy - namely grad school right now. wednesday afternoon, i dropped my cousin off at camp. i wanted him to experience some of the joy i had when i was his age. and he did. today i went to pick him up. i regret that. i should've just kept studying for the test i have today. wednesday i was fine - i was there only briefly. today i stayed long enough to get triggered. on the 20 minute drive there, i remembered how shitty my last year was and how awful i felt because of the actions of my bosses and myself (though more so my bosses, obviously) and got extremely angry. when i got there, i calmed down - i enjoyed seeing some of the people i met during my time at camp. the longer i was there, though, i became tense and nauseous. i wanted to leave early. i should have - my parents were also there to pick my cousin up and drove in a separate car. (i assumed i was picking him up, not them.)

anyway. now i feel like shit. i shouldn't have gone there. that wound is very obviously not healed, and i just ripped it open again. i would be okay with never going to camp again. the 13 years of mostly positive memories are tainted and may always be. i think i just need to think about camp as little as possible, at least for a while. and especially keep those boxes under my bed.

#stingkey says

[haikyuu-boys-headcanons]

𝙷𝙰𝙸𝙺𝚈𝚄𝚄 𝙱𝙾𝚈𝚂 - 𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚂𝙴𝚇 𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚂

hehe, i’m back at it again with one of these long ass posts but this idea’s literally been in my head all day long so here you go !! obvious nsfw warning :)

tw: this whole post is just nsfw and embarrassing to read so read at your own risk >:)

𝙳𝙰𝙸𝙲𝙷𝙸 » during a super intense and loud session, his voice cracked as he asked you “does that feel goOD- good baby?” to this day, he still prays that you couldn’t hear him over the sound of your own moans

𝚂𝚄𝙶𝙰𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙰 » you were riding him and he went to slap your ass, but something went wrong either because you were riding too quickly or he was shaking too much, boy ended up slapping himself in the balls. you’ve never heard that boy scream that loud in your life

𝙰𝚂𝙰𝙷𝙸 » literally pulled out in the middle of sex to get up and rush to the corner of his room to flip around his childhood teddy bears. your just laying there with your tiddies and coochie out waiting for asahi to shield the eyes of mr. wiggles

𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙺𝙰 » you two were having pretty intense shower sex until tanaka did the number one thing your not supposed to do during shower sex; this muthafucker slipped while holding you. long story short, y’all were okay but just ended up having nasty shower floor sex??

𝙽𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚈𝙰 » this tiny ass 5′2 man was unconsciously humping your leg while you were both asleep?? his presumably pleasurable wet dream had turned into a sudden nightmare when you literally had to KICK him off you to stop the humping. bad nishinoya, bad!

𝙺𝙰𝙶𝙴𝚈𝙰𝙼𝙰 » came WAYYY too early inside you, but he was too embarrassed to say anything so he just... kept going. sadly, no one had warned kageyama of the intense effects of overstimulation. he was shaking and whimpering so badly behind you to the point where you had to ask him to pull out and bring him a glass of water to calm down

𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙰 » the first time you squirted on him, he just blatantly asked you these exact few words that left you feeling mortified: “did you just piss on me?” nuh uh hinata, this water fountain ain’t yours to drown in anymore >:( 

𝚃𝚂𝚄𝙺𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙼𝙰 » kei was hitting it from the back pretty hard this time, so hard that you were suddenly... on an angle? suddenly, now you two were much closer to the floor than before. the bed ended up collapsing, yes literally collapsing due to kei’s powerful thrusts. worst part is, nobody got to finish since kei dragged you to ikea to grumpily buy a new bedframe. but hey, he bought you ikea meatballs; that shit hits so different

𝚈𝙰𝙼𝙰𝙶𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙸 » one super duper intense night, he passed out the SECOND he came. no matter how much you flicked the temple of his forehead, yamaguchi was dead asleep. you had to literally slap him awake to get him to clean up, you ain’t risking a ranky stanky UTI puthy in the morning

𝙾𝙸𝙺𝙰𝚆𝙰 » kept calling himself a sex machine during the act. i don’t know if it was due to the 6 tequila shots he had beforehand or just his inner ego revealing, whatever it was it was about to make your pussy close

𝙸𝚆𝙰𝚉𝚄𝙼𝙸 » this one time, he kept going in at a weird angle which caused you to repeatedly queef for 7 minutes straight. every time you told him to pull out and go in properly, he laughed and kept going in at that one weird angle!! was your embarrassment a turn on for him?? maybe!! but were you mortified? absolutely!!

𝙼𝙰𝚃𝚃𝚂𝚄𝙽 » i’m sorry to have to be the one to announce this, but this man had the worst case of full blown bush you’ve ever seen. like, he didn’t even try to manscape or anything at all. you ended up begging him to trim just a tiny bit because you weren’t gonna risk choking on a pube whilst your going down on him

𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙸 » rubbed your left labia thinking it was your clit. and he kept doing that. the whole. fucking. time. even when you subtly moved his fingers towards your clit, he just kept going back to the left lip.

𝙺𝚄𝙽𝙸𝙼𝙸 » had the most dry and dull dirty talk you’ve ever heard. like, it’s not even dirty talk at this point; it’s just clean talk. there’s no passion when he talks! he uses the same tone he would use for anyone else at any other moment. to paint the picture, imagine riding kunimi and he’s just there with a furrowed expression like “yup, that feels really good”

𝙺𝚈𝙾𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙸 » tried to pull one of those unexpected anal scenes that he saw from a porno, without telling you beforehand. life lesson here; if you party at shit's house, don't be surprised if shit's at the party

𝙺𝚄𝚁𝙾𝙾 » you two were looking to get a little more kinky in terms of BDSM, so kuroo watched like 30 tutorials on youtube on how to safely tie you up so you won’t fall or anything. this bitch ended up tying rope knots that were practically impossible to undo, which resulted in you hanging from the ceiling for approximately 2 hours pussy-ass naked while kuroo tried to cut you down with a kitchen knife

𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙼𝙰 » wanted to spice things up with some dirty talk, like the real nasty talk they use in pornos but not the normal pornos; the shitty company ones with horrific acting. he really ended up announcing that he was going to “fuck your fucking fanny off, you twat”

𝙻𝙴𝚅 » got super excited while he was opening the lube since he hadn’t gotten to fuck you in a WHILE, which resulted the lube leaked everywhere and a giant 6′5 man slipping and hitting his head on the bed frame. worst part is; he had to go to the ER with a hard on that refused to go away

𝙱𝙾𝙺𝚄𝚃𝙾 » speaking of boners that wouldn’t go away, let’s not forget that one time bokuto took two viagras when you texted him to come over for a special occasion. he horribly misinterpreted the ‘special occasion’ text, because he showed up to your house with a huge buldge in his pants as your parents stand before him holding anniversary cards, completely horrified

𝙰𝙺𝙰𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸 » wanted to make valentines day sex as romantic as he could, so he did the classic lighting candles and giving roses. everything was beautiful, until he accidently knocked one of the bigger candles over during missionary. this not only caused a huge ass fire in your bedroom, but he came right as the fire began to spread. boy was debating on whether his orgasm was to die for or not

𝙺𝙾𝙽𝙾𝙷𝙰 » had a nose bleed when he was going down on you and you both were immediately horrified, you thinking it was your period and him thinking he just ate coochie blood. yet as you went to go clean up, you realized his face had much more blood on it than your coochie did. to this day, he still blames it on your period 

𝚄𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙹𝙸𝙼𝙰 » threw you onto the bed and your head went through the wall. he didn’t even bother to ask you if you were okay, he just sighed and went “well, now i have to make a call to the construction guy. excuse me” and he left you and your concussed ass head sit there once again, pussy ass naked

𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙾𝚄 » during a blowjob, he held your head down right as he was coming causing the cum to shoot up your throat and somehow pour out of your nose. by the time he pulled out, he could barely breath from laughing at you. sure, the classic ‘milk shooting out of nose’ thing was funny at first until you got a sinus infection and had to breath out of your mouth for the next three days

𝚂𝙴𝙼𝙸 » always insists having sex in the most inconvenient places?? like he would pull you to side while grocery shopping and start grinding up against you as you pick which brand of cheese would be better??

𝙶𝙾𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙺𝙸 » he kept getting frustrated that his bangs were clouding his field of vision, so he irritably grabbed a hair tie and frantically tied up the sides of his bangs while he was fucking you. you immediately burst out laughing since he looked exactly like boo from monsters inc. 

𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚄𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙼𝙰 » got so drunk that he ended up fucking the couch. like he was just there on top of you, and his dick was just sliding between the folds of the leather couch. you decided to let him finish like that

𝚂𝙰𝙺𝚄𝚂𝙰 » had a really bad reaction to one of the products he used while shaving and ended up getting super irritated down there so he kept having to pull out in-between thrusts to itch his crotch. to make things worse, you joking suggested that he looked like he had syphilis and he got so disgusted at the idea of that thought that he literally had to pull out and take a breather 

𝙾𝚂𝙰𝙼𝚄 » drizzled ‘warm’ chocolate down your chest and was about to seductively lick it off until you screamed in pain and horror as the chocolate was literally burning your skin off. osamu panicked, obviously not knowing what to do if chocolate was burning his partners skin off so he just... frantically licked it off. you still had to go to the ER afterwards to get treated for mild burns

𝙰𝚂𝚃𝚄𝙼𝚄 » didn’t know what a hymen was until the first time he tried to have sex with you. no matter how much he tried to shove his schlong in, it really just wasn’t working + “yer puss is broken”

𝚂𝚄𝙽𝙰 » pinched your nipples so fucking hard to the point where you started crying. he thoughts these were tears of pleasure until you literally had to kick him off you. but hey, he gave you ice for your sore nipples and mcdonalds! what more could a girl possibly want :)

uh the end lol

also, this idea was inspired by the first haikyuu headcanon i ever read, “awkward sex moments” by @bbytetsu <3

#haikyuu hcs #haikyuu #tsukishima x reader #oikawa x reader #sugawara x reader #atsumu x rea #suna x reader #tendou x reader #ushijima x reader #haikyuu smut #kuroo x reader #kenma x reader #semi x reader #yamaguchi x reader #daichi x reader #iwazumi x reader #terushima x reader #sakusa x reader #kageyama x reader #sakusa smut #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #mattsun x reader #nishinoya x reader

[erodasfishtacos]

It’s Just Me (mini blurb)

if you enjoyed this fic - PLEASE reblog, rec, like, and come chat with me about the fic!

if you like my work and can donate as i do this for free - please consider donating to my ko-fi.

———————

It was a terrible twos kind of day. The kind of day when YN can’t tote Ivy along to a charity organization brunch because she would meltdown.

Harry had her in his office with him, she was sitting on a blanket Harry had laid out, and was quietly playing with her stuffed animals (mostly seals.)

Occasionally, she would babble to herself and get pissed of at her inatimate playmates, ending in her tossing it to the side.

He caught himself just staring at her, smiling as he watches the little human he and his soulmate created right in front of him.

When his phone rings, he automatically picks it up, professionally stating, “Styles.”

“Hi, this is Dan from Payroll,” The guys voice was already shaking and Harry knew he was about to get really pissed off.

“How can I help you?” He asks in a tone that’s was definitely did not sound like he wanted to provide any assistance.

There is a pregnant pause before Dan nearly stutters, “Er, I accidentally missed reviewing the marketing departments hours and they did not receive their last paycheck.”

Harry takes a very deep breathe because he wants to do what he normally would - scream through the phone at this idiot.

However, he can’t because his curly haired little baby is playing with her toys in the middle of the office with a smile.

“Please come up to my office,” Harry replies curtly before hanging up.

He gets up, goes over to his daughter, and squats in front of her, “Ivy, baby.”

She looks up at him with a toothy grin before reaching over to hand him a stuffed seal, “Play, daddy.”

Harry thumbs over a stray curl on her forehead, “Daddy can’t, my love. I need y’to go with Granny Dor for a little.”

Ivy had been very clinging to both YN and Harry recently. She had a fit when YN dropped her off, despite how happy she was to see her dad.

Her brows furrow, lips purse, and Harry has to laugh because she looks like a carbon copy of him with the sour face.

“Oh, no mean looks t’daddy,” He hums with his own frown, “S’just for a moment, m’dove.”

“No.”

“Ivy, y’need to listen.”

And Harry knows it coming, she sucks in a huge breathe and then just lets out a scream in protest of him.

“Ivy Elizabeth Styles, y’do not scream. Y’know better. Are we going to have to take a timeout or are you going to go sit nice with Dor?” Harry’s voice is still softer than he’d use with any of him employees but extremely firm to her.

“No timeout, daddy,” She mumbles, her volume decreasing significantly as she lowers her gaze from her father’s.

“Alright, then c’mon. Thank you for listening,” Harry praises, gathering up her toys for her and leading her into his waiting room where Dorothy is typing away on her computer.

“Dor, Dan is coming up and I need to have a private meaning. Will y’watch her for a little?”

Ivy is already clambering up into her lap, into the warmth of her arms, and nuzzling in - because Granny Dor spoiled her silly.

Harry rolls his eyes, muttering, “And you and YN say I spoil her too much. Bloody ridiculous.”

Dorothy just shoos him away, readjusting Ivy’s bow, and combing through her hair softly to simmer her down a little.

Dan trails in solemnly soon after to face his inevitable doom.

He sees his boss’ daughter perched on the secretary’s lap and he wonders how such a sweet little thing could be created from the demon of a man.

As Harry and Dan meet, Ivy gets wriggly and squirms off of Dorothy’s lap.

“Stay close,” She murmurs to the toddler as she picks up her phone to answer a call for Harry.

Of course, Ivy doesn’t listen, and she noticed that the door to her father’s office is cracked open just the littlest bit.

It’s enough for her to slip through the space between the heavy doors and toddles on, she’s blocked by the leather couches so Harry can’t see her.

“I have givin’ you so many fuckin’ chances!” Harry seethes angrily at his employee. His tone was more like a growl than anything else.

Ivy pauses, eyes widening in fear as she hears her dad speak in a frightening manner she’s never heard before.

“I…There was a coding error that I had been distracted with, it won’t happen again,” Dan insists, knowing he had actually committed a fireable offense.

“You are absolutely correct because you’re fucking fired,” Harry replies, no wavering in his raspy register.

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” Dan explodes, “It’s unfucking fair treatment! It was one mistake, you fuckin’ asshole!”

There’s a moment of silence.

“I can fuckin’ show you unfair treatment. Get the fuck out of my office and learn how to do your goddamn job,” Harry retorts, his voice rising as well.

Ivy is stuck in her spot, frozen in surprise at hearing the arguing and how mad her father sounded, voice echoing through the room.

“You listen to me-“

“Get the fuck out of my office!” Harry booms furiously, this employee managing to get a rise out of him.

“I was ju-“

Both the men pause when they hear a wail from behind the sofa and the sound of Ivy plopping herself on the ground.

Harry instantly is out from behind his desk and going to round the sofa in a flash with a rose of panic in his chest.

His heart drops when he sees his baby looking up at him with fear in her watery eyes and she’s literally shaking.

“Oh, baby. Did y’hear daddy bein’ loud?” Harry murmurs in his sweetest, comforting voice - uncaring of his employee hearing him.

Harry expects her to nod sadly and ask for a cuddle but she instead wriggles backwards when he goes to reach for her - out of his reach.

“Ivy, little dove, s’just y’daddy,” He tries again, sitting down in front of her - doesn’t even look up as Dan leaves quietly.

She’s scared though and has had never felt worse in his life as his daughter backs away from him until she’s getting to her wobbly feet.

He tries again, reaching his arms out, “Ivy Elizabeth, s’just daddy. M’sorry I scared you, bub.”

Ivy doesn’t budge, crying loudly with her face pinched up as hot tears run down her soft chubby cheeks.

Dorothy appears with a worried look, “I apologize, I thought she was by the table.”

“S’not your fault I’m a shitty father,” Harry mutters, standing back up and roughly brushing off his trousers.

“Oh Harry, she’s just a little frightened,” Dorothy hums, picking the girl up when she toddles quickly over to her.

Her dad trails over, “Ivy, m’love. Can you look at daddy?”

She refuses, digging her face into the woman’s shoulder, curls bouncing fiercely as she clings onto her.

Harry loved to be feared. Not like this though. Not by the child he’d literally jump in front of a train for without a second thought.

He would rather have her screaming, pitching fits, throwing toys rather than this. She was so scared that she wouldn’t even look at him.

“Let me take her on a little stroll, okay? See if I can calm her down a bit.”

—

Harry waits patiently for Dorothy to arrive back but he automatically hears his daughter’s steady stream of sniffles and whimpers.

He goes out to the waiting room to see her reentering the room, she sighs, “I think it’s time to call mummy.”

Harry had no idea how he was going to explain this to his wife. He was I trouble and he knew he deserved it.

“Hey H, is the bab okay?” YN greets warmly, chattering in the background.

“Er, she’s okay, just upset. Ivy accidentally walked in on me flipping out and firing an employee. Now she’s scared. Dor tried to calm her down and she doesn’t want to be near me right now.”

YN’s next words were calm, Harry however did not miss the sharp edge when she replies, “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Then she hangs up on him.

Which she really never does unless she is really really upset.

—

When YN arrives, Ivy is sat on Dorothy’s lap with puffy eyes and her thumb tucked between her full lips, popping it out when she sees her mother.

“Mumma!” Ivy shrieks, tears beginning streaming down her face as she impatiently waits for her to cross the room and gives her a soft kiss to the forehead.

“Hi baby, give mummy one minute and then we’ll leave okay?” YN murmurs soothingly, thumbing of some of the tears.

Ivy nods but is standing next the secretary’s desk, waiting patiently with her thumb going right back between her lips again.

Harry’s sitting at his large oak table, looking like a guilty puppy as his wife comes in with a disapproving look on her face.

“Baby, m’sorr-“

“What the fuck, Harry? Why is our daughter out there terrified right now?” YN demands, crossing her arms to prove her anger.

“Some fuckin’ idiot messed somethin’ up and Ivy walked in while I cursed him out and fired him. She was hiding behind the couch. It was an accident,” He defends, bristling a bit.

“Even if the door was shut, she would have still heard you. You knew better than to act like that around our daughter.”

“I had to fire him,” Harry makes the lame excuse because he knows he’s in the wrong and he’s not always great at admitting he is.

“You were supposed to have Ivy for two hours and this happens. I have her all day everyday and I’ve need had an issue with controlling myself in front of others!” YN yells (quietly) at him.

“What the fuck is tha’ supposed to mean? Y’calling me a bad father? Y’have her all day with her because I work so that you can stay at home with her.”

YN rolls her eyes, “Well thank god for that, she’d be cursing and screaming at people all day everyday if she was with you all the time.”

Harry is thoroughly pissed at his wife and she is equally just as furious with him - it doesn’t happen often but when it does it’s bad.

“Y’got some fuckin’ nerve. Our baby is polite, well-mannered because of me too! Not just you, fuckin’ claiming all her good qualities,” He replies with a snarl.

“Don’t talk to me that way,” YN bites back, “I’m not one of your employees. Neither is Ivy despite you talking like that in front of her.”

Now she was just trying to push his buttons and it was well onto it’s way of working.

“Y’bein’ fuckin’ ridiculous! It was a accident and you’re acting like I did it on purpose! Fuckin’ hell!” He raises his voice in frustration.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are raising your voice at me but I’m leaving,” YN tells him, giving him one final glare before storming out of the office.

“Fuck!” He grunts, smacking cup of pens from his desk before slamming his fist on the desk.

—

Ivy was waiting patiently, whimpering when she sees her mum, and gesturing to be picked up, “It’s past your nap time, Vee.”

“Nap,” She lisps sadly, instantly curling into then familiarness that is her mother. Eyes instantly fluttering shut.

“Thank you, Dor,” YN whispers, blowing her a kiss, before trekking out of the office with the exhausted little girl.

—

Harry can’t handle the rest of the day, wants to go home, and make amends with his wife which leads him to heading out only an hour after them.

He finds YN in the den with the baby monitor propped on the coffee table, she’s watching a horror movie with a smoothie in hand.

“Hi, m’heart,” Harry murmurs cautiously, loosening up his tie until it falls limp around his neck.

She glances over at him, sarcasm lacing her tone,“So you do know how to talk without yelling at me, hmm?”

His face falls, frowning, “Hey, lovie - don’t be like tha’. Y’gonna let me apologize?”

“Come scratch my back and I’ll hear you out,” She hums, keeping a serious face.

“Y’drive a hard bargain, m’heart. Show me y’tits,” Harry begins to smile, striding over and getting her no time before he’s pulling off her shirt and sports bra.

He sits down then gently lays her down on her tummy and she rests her head in his lap, cheek pressed against his thigh.

“I shouldn’t have done that, I wasn’t thinkin’. Now I’m worried she’s gonna hate me forever,” Harry mumbles, using his blunt nails to trace up and down her back.

“You’re her favorite person. She’ll always love you more than anything,” YN tells him seriously, arching when he scratches an extra itchy spot.

“I hope so. I love her more than anythin’. A little mixture of how much we love each other. How much we worked to get her,” He sighs softly.

—

YN dozed off and Harry tucks a blanket around her bare chest.

When the baby monitor alerts that Ivy had woke up after quite a long nap, he takes a deep breath before walking up the staircase to his fate.

He’s preparing himself for her to scream and cry when she sees her monster of a father because he’d scared her so horribly.

But his mini just widens her green eyes and he looks at his world with bated breath, waiting for the scream or tears.

Instead, she just dimples happily at her father, and squeals with excitement, “Daddy! Hi Daddy, miss you!”

And just like that….

They’re best friends again.

—-

Enjoy! Come talk to me!! 💕❣️💕❣️💕❣️

#harry styles #ceo!harry #harry styles writing #update #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #ceo!harry blurb #ceo harry masterlist #ceo!harry masterlist #harry styles imagine #harry styles huband #husband!harry #dad harry #dad!harry #dad harry styles #harry styles husband #Harry styles fluff

[soulwillower]

housesitting •  richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: no

had this in my drafts and figured i’d finish it and post it, sorry for being away, but idk if i’ll keep writing! hope you enjoy, i’ll prob still come back and update/post fics on this account on occasion. love u guys lots and i hope you’re all doing okay <3333

warnings: drinking, unprotected sex, oral (fem and male receiving), light deepthroating/face fucking, praise kink, degradation, use of the words slut, whore, etc, suuuper unedited

(losers + reader are 21+.)

4.7k words

♡

the moment you stepped back into your flat, dropping your bag heavily on the ground with a sigh, you finally felt like you could breathe. 

today and yesterday had been a nightmare - you and your roommate bill had gone home, planning to stay for a week with family and friends back home. 

you'd spent the first night out with old friends at the bar enjoying yourselves and  you'd even gone home with a handsome boy you'd had a crush on in high school. but just as he was about to go down on you, after you'd gone down on him despite how terrible his b.o. was, he said he wouldn’t because it was 'gross.' 

you hate to admit but you were slightly tipsy and horny, so you still stayed for ten minutes of awful, boring missionary before he fell asleep. then when you'd left in the uber, a voice message from your boss threatened to fire you if you didn't come in and finish a project - so you had to scramble for a flight home, leaving bill back with your friends in maine for a few days, and now you're just ready for a shower, a nicely packed bowl, and a large dinner. 

because good god, that was an awful trip. 

"hello?" you call, rubbing your eyes as you walk towards your kitchen, wondering if your roommate's best friend was still here - he was supposed to stay and take care of the apartment while you were away. 

but instead, your eyes landed on a complete mess in the kitchen; solo cups everywhere, trash, empty chip bags, furniture moved and counters sticky from spilt beer. 

"what the fuck?" you project, eyes landing on the figure who walks into the kitchen, towel hanging low on his hips as water drips from wet, shaggy curls of hair. you meet the bright eyes of richie tozier, your roommate’s best friend. 

he looks like a deer in headlights, his glasses slightly fogged as he blinks his eyes owlishly and you swear his eye lashes tangle together as he blinks. "oh, hey y/n, why are you here?" 

and honestly, richie has always made your fingers tingle and your abdomen clench when he so much as looks at you, despite bill’s groaning and glaring when you refer to him as ‘hot friend number one.’ (he had a lot of hot friends). 

but you’re wound up, stressed, frustrated, and exhausted so all you can do is look from the boy to the mess and then back, stunned, "this is my apartment." 

he chuckles, wiping a drip of water off of his chest. you have to fight to look away, feeling burning from irritation and also something else as your chest heaves. you're just so tired, and this boy who you don't know very well has trashed your place and maybe even had a party and you just want to smoke and go to bed and- 

"say, what are you doing back so soon, toots? thought i had the place to myself for the next five days." he says too casually, grinning like he's catching up with an old friend. his hand runs through his wet hair, droplets rolling down his bare skin and causing you to fight the urge to keep your eyes on his face.

you shake your head. "richie, why does my kitchen look like a scene from dexter?" you say, trying to keep yourself calm. 

he tilts his head in an irksome, handsome way that makes you want to scream, "pretty sure dexter was....murdering murderers, not slamming smirnoff at three am."  "clean it up! what gives you the nerve to have a party in someone else's fucking apartment? while they're gone?!" you yell, throwing your hands in the air. richie shrugs uncomfortably and you're briefly in shock at how much faith richie is putting in the small tuck he's made with the towel, barely keeping up on in his waist. he laughs somewhat nervously, "sheesh, doll, it would've been cleaned by sunday, you just surprised me and almost gave me a heart attack while i was in the shower. bill told me we could throw at your place as long as we were responsible." he sounds pretty genuine, but you're just so tightly wound and frustrated.

"well this," you gesture to your place, "is not responsible." you glare, "i'm going to shower. i've had a long fucking day, and when i get out the place better be fucking spotless and you better be gone. i'm not asking." you snap. 

he grins as you push past him, turning to watch you storm towards the bathroom with an apologetic grimace on his face. 

- 

you took as long as you could in the shower, savoring every warm drop until you stepped out of your bathroom, expecting to see an empty apartment. 

"what are you staring at?" the boy with the curls mutters as he fixes the wine glass he'd placed on the counter. you're pretty speechless as you look around, wondering how richie had managed to get your place more clean and inviting than how you'd left it. dishes are all clean, put away, the counters spotless; the oven is set with a timer for two hours, and the smell of lasagna invites your nose with a rumble of your stomach. two glasses of wine are poured, sitting at the counter as richie chews on his lip anxiously, hair glinting in the dark mood lighting from the lamp near the window. 

"i felt bad. you seem like you had a long day and i didn't mean to make it worse." he admits. 

you step forward, suddenly feeling hot as you watch him, his jaw clenched slightly and sharper than you remember it. he's actually really fucking beautiful, you realize. 

"you didn't have to do all this." you say, biting your lip as you take the wine glass from his hand. 

"i know." he says with a cocky smirk. your face feels hot as you watch him slide out the stools by your breakfast bar, sitting down and sipping on his own wine. 

with a smile, you sit next to him. he was always the friend of bills that made you the most flustered - he's a tall, loud, garish bartender who spends most his time doing stand up at the clubs on the weekends even though he studied applied mathematics in school. he's the kind of boy that everybody has a crush on, because he's got that dorky yet beautiful sculpt; dark, curly locks, pale skin with a splattering of bright freckles. his eyes pierce yours whenever you're in the same room and his grin makes your stomach flip on it's head. 

"so, why'd you come back early?" richie asks as he takes a sip, eyes staring at you brightly from behind the rim of the glass. you huff a small bitter laugh, "my boss told me i had to come back because we're understaffed. told me the extra hours are 'building charater' or something. but i was having a shitty trip anyways, so i may as well just volunteer my time." 

he laughs, muttering, "good girl. doin' the lords work." you almost laugh but his words have heat sent straight between your legs and you can't tind words, suddenly in a state of shock. oh, god, this wine is getting to you.

richie's always been so hot, you're not surprised that one casual phrase had you so frantic like this. you blink, richie muttering, "y/n?" gently. 

you shake your head, snapping to look at him, "y-yeah? sorry, i just- what did you say?" you're embarrassed. you're embarrassed because richie didn't even mean it like that and you didn't expect to like being called that by him and you're embarrassed because he knows now, god look at his smirk, you're done for. 

"i asked why your trip was shit." he says simply, smirk on his face causing your face to heat up even more. you sigh, eyeing him, "i tried to enjoy myself and then i have the worst hookup experience of my life. then i came back to a messy apartment." you admit, shaking your head as richie pours you both another glass of wine, "the worst? that's a shame. what'd he do, throw up on you?" 

you laugh, "no, nothing like that. he was a minute man, and he refused to..." you shake your head, wondering why you're admitting this to a guy you barely know. you've never hung out one-on-one before with him.  "-he made me do all the work. and then he fell asleep. the worst part is, i've liked him since high school." you admit, dropping your face into your hands as richie lets out a chuckle. 

richie's shaking his head, "see, those types are the ones who just shouldn't be allowed in the gene pool. lazy. missin' out on all the fun, especially with a gal like you." he says with a wink. you laugh, face feeling hot. "i'm no fun." you say bashfully. 

richie raises his brows with a grin, his smile making you melt, heat pooling in between your legs from the way he runs his fingers across the rim of his glass. "i highly doubt that, doll." 

his eyes dip down in a not-so-subtle way as he takes in your body, biting his lip and making you clear your throat with a heated face. "sorry you had to put up with a guy who couldn't fuck you the right way. and that your boss also fucked you. and that i ruined your night." 

you shake your head, "i just had so much pent up stress from the last few days." he's eyeing you, and you wonder if he wants to fuck you as bad as you want to be fucked right now. would bill kill you? yeah, he would, but richie is so damn fine and you were left so high and dry last night that you’re just about ready to jump onto his lap. 

as if reading your mind, richie hums, "bill's still in maine, yeah?" he asks casually, eyes fluttering to the timer on the oven that ready an hour. 

you nod, "yeah, he's actually hanging out with the guy i hooked up with tonight." you say with a light huff. richie groans a laugh, "no fuckin' way. i promise, not all of bill's friends are bad at sex." richie says with a grin, and you laugh. "you sure about that?" 

he hums, eyeing you but not responding. 

“guess i’ll just have to find out.” you say boldly, butterflies fluttering in your chest when richie shoots you a deep look, slicking his lips through a smile. he hums, "so i don't get it, what was so bad about it?" 

you sigh, "he wouldn't go down on me. said he was 'too tired' and ‘too much work’ then he wanted to lay down so i rode him for, like, five minutes and then he fell asleep." 

richie's laughing, and you swat his arm as your face burns, "it's not funny! it's humiliating, richie." 

he snorts, standing up to place your empty glasses in the sink, recycling the empty bottle. "sorry, doll. that's just shit. he should've at least had the decency to make you cum." 

you almost choke on your spit at his bluntness, face blossoming and thighs tingling. "y-yeah." 

"anyways, i can get going, if you'd like. guess i’m done being the house sitter. the lasagna will be done in an hour or so." he says with a nod, eyes staring at yours fiercely. you hum, standing up as richie walks closer. "or you could stay." you say, looking up at him from where he stands in front of you. 

"you lonely or somethin', doll?" he rumbles lowly, lifting a brow. biting your lip, you swallow, "something like that." you say, lifting a challenging brow. 

“so if it was stan here, or mike...” he starts, walking towards you until he’s close enough that you’re afraid he can hear your heart thump, “you’d want them to stay?” 

you swallow dryly, “if bill lived with someone else, would you want to stay?” his smirk makes you clench your thighs. his long fingers raise and curl around your jaw, tilting your head back before tucking hair behind your ear. you swallow roughly, his hands are so big. his rings that he wears are thick and ice cold and feel so good against your warm face. 

your heart pounds as he smirks, eyes challenging you. the waiting is killing you.

"you've got a pretty mouth." he whispers, sending shocks all around your body. "y-you've got a pretty everything." you stutter out, feeling extremely flustered and suddenly shy. "thanks, honey." he says with a laugh, making you feel even more bashful.  

"y'know..." he drawls, hand settled on your neck, caressing your jaw, "i've wanted you since i first saw you." 

you can't help the whimper as it falls from your lips. it's a small, shy noise of need and it makes richie beam a beautiful, sexy grin that has your knees weak. "please..." you whimper, eyes staring at his, the suspense making you anxious with need. 

"please what?" he asks quietly, clearly loving the tense air. you almost roll your eyes, "kiss me." you say, rushed. 

he pulls away slightly, giving you a stern look. “please.” he says, smirk creeping onto his face. you burn in slight humiliation because he knows what he’s doing. 

“please kiss me, richie.” you finally say, swallowing.

"good girl." he says with a smirk and you feel like you're burning up under his gaze. but then he’s leaning in and his lips are on yours and wow, richie is a good kisser. he’s pulling you towards him tightly, hungrily; his teeth bite gently at your lower lip as his tongue swipes your own, pulling you into him. he was needy in the way he kissed you, a dominance in him that you're not surprised to find. you craved it, you craved him; and then he's pushing you back, up onto the stool as he moves between your legs. 

his mouth is then marking your neck, claiming you, and you love it, the feeling of his teeth against your warm skin, the sweetness of his smile against you.

his hands brush up your thighs and past the hem of your shorts, legs spread so he’s pressed flush against you, his bulge so close to where you want him. "richie," you let out a mangled whimper, hair knotting in his soft curls. he laughs, lips finding your ear, "always wondered how you'd sound when i had you like this," he says quietly, "can't wait to hear what pretty noises you make when i'm inside you." 

his fingers find the damp seat of your panties, dancing across it and making your legs shake with anticipation and neediness. you’re already a soaked, mewling mess as you grasp for him, hungry and needy and you want him closer, closer. 

he pulls you off the stool, then, and you both stare at each other for a moment. he almost dies at the state of you; already fucked-out, hair mussed up and still wet, your eyes lidded and your lips kiss-swollen. 

you can’t believe your eyes, richie’s curly hair fluffy from being freshly washed, the taste of wine on his lips, the freckles, the collarbone peeking from his collar, the smirk that could melt black ice. he looks like he could tear you apart. you hope he will. 

“you’re hot.” you blurt. 

he rushes at you again, melding your lips together with a searing hot kiss as he shoves you backwards towards the bedrooms. 

"bill told me to stay away from you," richie says as he walks you down the hall, your feet nearly stumbling and shaky as you walk backwards, lips seeking his every moment, "he said i'd ruin you." he adds. 

you lift a brow, too flustered to say anything as you stare up at richie, inhaling sharply as his hand trails down to cup your ass lightly, still walking backwards. "he knows how pretty i think you are. how hot, how... perfect." he whispers into the skin of your neck, raising goosebumps. "but i want to fuck you so well you forget your name. i don't care about what bill wants." 

you look at him, desperate and needy. "i don't give a fuck what bill says. i want you, please." you say, pawing richie and kissing him needily. richie’s leaving dark love bites on the column of your neck and you know it's wrong, and you shouldn't, but you let him kick open the door into bill's room, guiding you to bill’s bed instead of yours. “please, wan’ you so bad,” you pant, the needy throbbing getting unbearable, desperate for some release. 

“how bad, pretty girl?” he asks, smoothing down your hair. biting your lip, you sit on the bed, eyes level with the zipper of his pants. the sight of you staring up at him from below his hard, clothed cock makes his pants feel even tighter and he hums, "you sure?" 

you nod enthusiastically, "wanna make you feel good, please." he lets out a soft noise as your hands go to pull down his fly, “filthy girl." he says lowly, making heat drip from your core. you shift, trying to relieve some pressure. you feel hot when you realize you want him to degrade you, that you love it. “god, say that again.” you moan, mouthing around his bulge. his hands come to caress your face, watching you, 

"you like being my little whore, huh? so good just for me. bet you’ve thought of my cock in your mouth before, haven’t you?" 

you nod, biting your lip. he grins and you’re moving to pull him out of his pants, trying to conceal your shocked face as you take in his size. your cheeks heat up, hand grazing his length and meeting his own hand as he pumps himself a few times, lining his tip up to your lips. 

“open.” he says simply and you comply willingly, laying your tongue out. he’s teasing his cock on your tongue and you’re whining, desperate to feel him in your mouth, to make him feel good. 

“just wait until i say so, baby.” he says, slapping your tongue lightly with his cock and making you shift on your legs, dripping wet.

he groans, one hand coming to hold your head softly, making you tingle. you watch as he stares at you, lips parted and eyes blown wide. his cock is glistening with precum as it lays on your tongue. “suck my cock pretty girl.” he mutters, caressing your cheek. so you close your lips, slowly sucking on his tip before taking a bit more, moving your head slowly. 

you lick a stripe up the base of his cock and up to his tip, swirling your tongue. he groans in relief and pleasure as you take as much of him into your mouth as possible slowly, bobbing your head and taking as much in as you can. he’s bigger than anyone you’ve been with before, and the need to feel him inside you and to make him fall apart has you taking him as deep as you can.

you take him deeper, your eyes clouding with tears as you try not to gag and he hums, hands pulling your hair from your eyes - you can tell he’s straining not to buck his hips as you bob up and down on him.

“god, you feel so good, y/n.” he groans. you pull back, sucking on his tip as you swirl your tongue, catching your breath. his hands fall to your head and he gently, slowly thrusts his hips slightly. you gag, mouth wet as he pulls out of your mouth and wipes the trails of spit from your lips. “do it again, please.” you gasp, and he grins. “such a  slut.” 

he guides your face back to him, “tap me three times if it’s too much.” you take him in again, holding as long as you can and loving the way he’s thrusting into your mouth. he groans, both hands on your head, his chest rising and falling shakily.

"god, that’s so perfect. my good little toy.” he rumbles and your chest flutters. you feel him twitch and you sense he may be close, so you start to bob your head again.

he stops you, "no, pretty girl. i'm going to cum inside of you, okay?" you swallow, mouth dry, "okay." please. 

he sinks to his knees, gently pushing you so you're laying down on the bed again, pulling your legs so they hang off the side of the mattress. he's pulling your shorts off, your underwear following as he spreads your legs wider, kissing your thighs. “look at that pretty pussy. soaked, all for me.”

you're breathing shakily as one finger rises to gently rub your slit, making you moan softly. his touch is feathery-light, teasing you and making you whine, moving your hips. "shhh." he says softly, bringing his tongue to lick up your slit. you moan out, relieved to have some sort of satisfaction. richie's hand moves up to push up your top, thumbing your nipples as he starts to suck your clit. he pins your hips down, "be a good slut and stay still for me." he says, burying his face as your toes start to curl in pleasure, the burning sensation of pleasure increasing. 

he rubs circles into your hips with one hand as he slides two fingers into your heat, making you whimper, his fingers start to pick up pace as he continues to circle your clit with his tongue. his long fingers curl up inside of you, still pushing into you fast and rough, hitting your g-spot. you moan, “richie, harder, please.”

he hums, lifting his head as you gasp for breath, "since you asked so nicely, doin' everything i say." his fingers are moving again, faster than before. his tongue runs over your clit, practically moaning into your heat, fingers moving faster. you moan unabashedly, feeling yourself clench and knowing you're about to cum. your legs wrap around his shoulders as your hips move slightly, 

“cum on my tongue like a good little slut, okay baby?” he says gently. you moan, eyes shutting as you see stars. you're hitting your high and then richie's watching you, praising you as you fall apart, letting out soft whimpers. 

then you're sitting up as he rises from his knees, licking his lips. pulling him into a searing kiss, he crawls on top of you, rutting into you a few times before pulling back. 

he's pulling himself out of his pants and you swallow around your words, resisting the shocked face that threatens to creep on to you when you see how big he is. you moan as you watch him pump himself, pulling off his shirt as you pull off your own. 

he grins as he looks at you, "so good for me, my little slut. you want me to fuck you now?" he asks and you eagerly pull yourself up to your elbows, "yes, please, rich, fuck me." 

he hums, pushing his cock against your slit, the tip rubbing your sensitive clit and making you moan sharply. he continues to tease you, one hand on his cock and the other holding your waist. "use me, please." you whisper in his ear, hand holding him to you from the back of his neck. 

he lets out a sharp breath, hand snaking to your neck and pushing you back onto the mattress. "you want me to use you?" he asks, thrusting against you slowly, teasing your slit. "like my little plaything?" 

"yes, god, richie, please-" but then he's sliding into you all at once, his large cock stretching you as he moves his hips, sheathing into you. you feel so full that all you can do is gasp, richie kissing your forehead as his hand rests on your throat. "gonna fuck you on bill's bed, okay? and you're gonna be good for me, right? my good little cockslut." 

you nod yes, "so good for you." you say, and he smiles. he starts to pull out, easing back in and starting a shallow rhythm, getting you used to his size. you're euphoric as he starts to languidly pump into you, one hand on your neck and the other on your chest, palming your tit. 

he starts thrusting into you, picking up speed - rough and fast. his hips buck up against you, pulling back fully before filling you up. his thumb gently grazes your sensitive clit and you grip his bare back, raking your nails down in pleasure. "do you walk around thinking of how it'd feel to get fucked by me, baby?" he whispers in your ear as he pounds you into the mattress. you moan, "yes, r-rich, i've wanted you for s-so long," you trail off into a moan. "feels so good." you mutter, panting, words babbling from your mouth incoherently. 

you barely have a warning before you cum a second time, clenching so hard that richie's hips sstutter, his moan ringing with your own. he looks down at you, thumb trailing into your open mouth, you eagerly sucking on it like a lollipop. "god, you're so tight, doll. such a good little whore for me. i bet you'd let me do anything to you, anywhere." 

your legs are shaking as he keeps thrusting you through your orgasm, feeling sensitive and euphoric. he smirks, "yeah? bet you'd let me fuck you anywhere, just my little fuck toy. so perfect for me." 

you nod, kissing him needily, tears from oversensitivity pricking your eyes. "want you filling me up richie, feels so good." 

"anywhere?" he asks, eyebrows knit in pleasure as he fucks into you. he's so possesive, it makes your face warm. you nod, "anywhere." 

he's smirking, and you know he's thinking about how shocked bill would be if he found out. it makes it that much hotter as you turn and see the picture of bill and richie on the wall near the door. 

then richie pulls out of you and you're being flipped onto your knees, richie's large hand pushing your face towards the soft sheets. you can't help the moans that escape you as he spits onto your dripping cunt, fingers playing with your used pussy as you moan, sensitive and still desperate. "pretty baby, all fucked out. can you take one more?" he asks, hands roaming your ass. you nod, yelping gently when a hand smacks down on your ass. 

"can you take one more?" he asks. "yes!" you moan into the mattress with need. he mutters, "good girl." as he pushes into you, the new angle making you moan loudly. with every thrust, he pushes you down on the mattress, making you grip against the edge of it with pleasure. one of his hands drops down to rub your clit, and you buck needily against his touch. after only a few minutes, the combination of the snap of his hips, the few slaps on your ass, and his hands on your clit push you over the edge, clenching around his cock as you whimper. your legs barely stay up after you cum, and his arm wraps around you to hold you as he pounds into you, chasing his own high. 

"yes, my pretty girl, so good." he praises again, hips speeding up. you think he's close because his breathing is faster, hands gripping your hips hard as he kisses down your spine, "take it." he whispers onto your back as he finally cums, pulling out and finishing on your ass and lower back, moaning lightly. 

you can't believe what just happened as richie disappears, returning at the speed of light with a damp washcloth to clean you off. you blush at how sweet the gesture is before he falls next to you on the bed, sighing. "i'll be honest, i didn't expect that." 

you laugh, "neither did i. i thought i was coming home to an empty apartment and some microwave ramen." 

he's staring at you, a smirk on his face, “i'd apologize again but holy fuck, you look so pretty when you cum.” you don't know what to say, feeling hot as you roll your eyes with a grin. he laughs and kisses you, “you’re cute, you know.” 

"says you." you mutter against his lips. you thank god bill won't be back soon as you watch his best friend rise, naked, from beside you and grab a spare hoodie and gym shorts from bill's closet, throwing them on before handing you his own shirt to wear.

"so, lasagna?" he asks, glasses askew slightly. you laugh as you stand on shaky legs, "it's the least you could do." you joke. 

tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier  @sft-core @clownsloveyou  @moon-shine-baby  @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @chl0bee  @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters  @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie  @decafcoffeew @etaerealboy

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #losers club smut #losers x reader