#not having a good time and bottling it in just makes me want to explode | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lady-lostmind · 2 months

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I had the absolute pleasure of getting to write a fic based on this amazing art by @ahhrenata for @strangerthingsreversebigbang! Link to art post Thank you @oh-stars for betaing this! Read the fic on ao3 or under the cut!

Eddie rolls over with a groan. He feels awful. He can’t breath out of his nose, there’s so much pressure in his head he feels like it might explode and his throat feels like he swallowed a cup of razors. He lets out a truly pathetic whimper, the sound catching in his throat as it turns into a cough. He stretches his arm out, feeling around for Steve and is met with cold, empty sheets. He whines again and finally pries his eyes open.

“Stevie?”

He hears Steve pad down the hall and then he’s opening the door to their room, a soft smile on his face as he peers down at Eddie on the bed. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

Eddie sniffles loudly. “I don’t feel good.”

Steve sighs and leans against the door frame. “I told you not to go out in the cold with Dustin the other night. You didn’t even have a coat.”

Eddie groans again and flops over, reaching his hand out to Steve. “Come cuddle with me.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. “You’re whiny when you’re sick.”

But he pushes off the doorframe and crawls onto the bed, dropping down next to Eddie and letting him wrap his limbs around his body and press his face against Steve’s chest.

Eddie snuggles in and hums, ready to fall back asleep for forever, or until he can actually breathe again. Whichever comes first.

Steve’s hand lands on his forehead, pushing his bangs out of the way. “Baby, you’re hot.”

Eddie lets out a little chuckle, his voice low and raspy from the pain in his throat. “I’m flattered, sweetheart. But I don’t think I’m really up for anything sexy right now, Stevie.”

Steve swats his arm. “I wasn’t coming onto you, asshole. You have a fever.”

Steve pulls away, like he’s going to get back up and Eddie holds on tighter to him, another whine slipping out of his lips.

Steve rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to go get you some stuff.”

Eddie’s hand flops onto the bed as Steve gets up and disappears from the room. Eddie rolls back over, pulling the blankets up and burrowing under them to fall back asleep.

–

Eddie wakes up to Steve nudging him gently, holding out a little cup of red liquid. Eddie’s face scrunches up in disgust and he shakes his head with a groan, trying to hide under the covers again. “I hate that shit.”

Steve rolls his eyes and tugs the blanket back. “Eds, you gotta take this. It’ll bring your fever down. Come on.”

Eddie groans again, but pulls himself up to sit and takes the little shot of medicine with a grimace.

Steve chuckles beside him. “I’ve seen you drink jager straight from the bottle and you’re making that face over cherry cough medicine?”

Eddie shoots him a cocky grin. “Jager is good though. That shit tastes like pennies.”

Steve shakes his head, pulling the covers back up around Eddie’s chin. “There’s tissues and water next to you on the table. You want me to drag the TV in here?”

Eddie shakes his head, already settling back into the pillows and drifting off. He reaches out a hand to tug at Steve’s wrist.

Steve sighs, climbing under the blankets with him and pulling him close. “You’re gonna get me sick.”

Eddie grins and plants a wet kiss to the back of Steve’s hand before he falls asleep again.

–

The next time Eddie resurfaces it’s to Steve’s fingers trailing softly through his hair. He sniffs, whining when it makes the pressure in his head spike.

“Made you some soup, baby. You hungry?”

Eddie nods and forces himself to sit up, smiling at Steve when he hands him a bowl of chicken noodle. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Steve leans over and presses a kiss to Eddie’s temple. “You sure you don’t want the TV in here? We could watch some movies.”

Eddie shrugs. “I’ll probably just fall asleep five minutes in. But you can bring it in if you’re bored.”

Steve shakes his head and grabs a book off his side table, wiggling it in the air. “I’m good.”

Eddie’s eyes lock on the book and his jaw drops open. “Are you finally reading The Lord of the Rings?”

Steve flashes him a big grin and nods. “They’re confusing though. How do you keep track of all these crazy names?”

Eddie chuckles. “You get used to it after a while.” He sets his empty bowl aside and lays back down, peering up at Steve with big, pleading eyes. “Will you read to me?”

Steve’s face scrunches up. “I’m not very good.”

Eddie scoots in closer, plopping his head onto Steve’s lap. “I just want to hear your voice.”

Steve’s hand finds its way back into Eddie’s curls again. “Do you want me to start over?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I’ve read them like ten times. You can start where you left off.”

Steve nods and opens the book, clearing his throat. “‘I wish it need not have happened in my time,’ said Frodo.”

Eddie lets the familiar words wash over him. Steve’s voice making him feel safe and warm, the fingers in his hair soothing him to sleep.

–

Eddie wakes up again, his throat burning and raw. He’s alone in the bed again and it’s dark. The blankets tucked in tight around him, making him over heated, his hair plastered to his forehead. He sits up, reaching for a tissue as a harsh cough racks his body. He groans, wincing as he wipes his mouth.

Eddie hates being sick. And yeah. He knows nobody likes being sick. Obviously. But he can’t stand it. It makes him feel trapped in his own body. Trapped in his bed. He doesn’t like to sit still for so long. To feel like he can’t do anything.

The door creaks open, a sliver of light peeking through before it disappears again, Steve’s body blocking it out as he leans in, a sad little smile on his face. “You okay, baby? Heard you coughing.”

Eddie lets out a pathetic whine, falling against the pillows again, somehow still exhausted even though he slept through most of the day already. “No.”

Steve pushes the door open the rest of the way, comes up to him and puts his hand on his forehead before making a little tsk noise, and brushing his hair out of his face. “I’m going to get you another dose of medicine.”

Eddie groans, grabbing Steve’s wrist and shaking his head.

Steve chuckles, bending down to press a kiss to Eddie’s temple. “What if I bring you a popsicle to chase it with? Make your throat feel a little better.”

Eddie’s eyes flick up to Steve’s, his eyebrows shooting up. “Not sure your popsicle is going to help my throat much but–”

Steve rolls his eyes with a smile, tugging his arm back and shaking his head. “Would you stop? You’re awful.” He heads back to the door, turning back with his hands on his hips. “Orange or cherry?”

Eddie whines. “No grape?”

Steve chuckles. “You and Dustin ate all the grape, baby.”

Eddie huffs out a breath. “Orange then.”

Eddie grins as Steve leaves the room. He really hates being sick. But he doesn’t mind this whole Steve-taking-care-of-him thing. That part’s pretty nice. He can’t really remember the last time someone did this for him. Thinks it must have been his mom, when he was still little. Remembers curling up with her on the couch, her humming softly as he fell asleep.

He doesn’t have a lot of good memories with her. Mostly screaming matches with his dad, and her disappearing for weeks at a time. But there were a few times when things were good. When he felt loved. When he really felt like he understood what it was like to be wanted. And then he’d gone to live with Wayne. And he did his best. And Eddie knows he loves him. Knows he would do anything for him. But he’s a grumpy old man who never thought he’d be raising a kid. His version of taking care of Eddie when he was sick was buying some soup and leaving it on the counter for Eddie to make while he was at work. And that was fine. Eddie is grateful for everything Wayne has done for him. It just wasn’t exactly a lovey household. Not that it wasn’t full of love. They just…didn’t really show it. But he feels the love in everything Steve does. Sees it in the way Steve’s eyes light up when they look at him. In the way his hands always linger. No matter where they touch. Like he never wants to be more than a breath away from him. Like he wants nothing more than to bring him a stupid orange popsicle when his throat hurts to make him feel better.

Eddie smirks as Steve comes back into the room, cough medicine in one hand, popsicle in the other.

–

Eddie feels a little better when he wakes up the next morning. Late morning. The room bright with the sun peeking in through the blinds. He’s still sick. Still can’t really breathe normally. His throat is still protesting every time he tries to swallow. But he feels a little less dead. And he didn’t wake up drenched in sweat this time so, hopefully that means his fever is gone. Thanks to Steve’s stupid medicine. Not that he’d ever admit that to him.

Steve comes in with a plate piled high with toast, and a mug of tea that Eddie is sure has way too much honey in it, for his throat.

Eddie takes the offered breakfast with a sleepy smile. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Steve presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “You’re welcome, baby. You feeling better?”

Eddie shrugs, stuffing half a piece of toast in his mouth. Steve climbs onto the bed with him, grabbing Eddie’s book from the table on his side of the bed, settling back against the pillows.

Eddie perks up, shifting so he can watch the way Steve’s mouth wraps around the words Eddie knows by heart. They’re some of his favorite configurations of words in the world, and Steve somehow makes him love them even more. He loves the slight hesitancy he has as he stumbles over the names, the pauses he adds in strange spots when he’s clearly trying to piece parts of the story together. He can tell he’s really trying to get it. Trying to understand why Eddie loves this so much. Trying to understand Eddie more. Which he’s pretty sure no one else has done before.

Everyone else just takes him at face value. The loud, over the top, obnoxious behavior, his weird obsessions and interests. People either look at him and want nothing to do with him, or they look at him in awe, like he’s something shiny, something to distract them from whatever bullshit is going on in their own lives. But he’s never had someone look at him like he’s something to be treasured. To dive into and see all the sides of. Until Steve.

Steve, who he knows hates half of the stuff Eddie is into but still asks questions. Who knows Eddie’s favorite songs and books and movies. Who knows he prefers grape popsicles. Who looks at him in that awestruck way even when he’s quiet. When he’s just existing in their space, not putting on a front or a show. Steve still sees him, even then.

Eddie leans forward and presses his lips to Steve’s, cutting him off mid sentence.

Steve huffs out a laugh against Eddie’s lips before pushing him back. “Is my reading that bad?”

Eddie shakes his head and takes another bite of toast, getting crumbs all over the bed as he scooches closer to Steve who lifts his arm to tuck Eddie into his side.

–

By day four Eddie is still feeling pretty bad, and worn out, but also bored. He still doesn’t have the energy to leave their bed much but he also can’t stand just laying around anymore.

He shuffles his way out to the living room, ignoring Steve’s squawk of protest as he spots him from where he’s doing dishes in the kitchen. Eddie makes it halfway to the coffee table before Steve is there, a hand towel slung over his shoulder as he tries to push Eddie back down the hall.

“What are you doing? Go back to bed.”

Eddie groans and gestures to his stack of notebooks on the table. “I’m bored, Steve. I want to work on my campaign.”

Steve nudges him back again, a crease forming between his brows. “I’ll bring them to you. Go lay down.”

Eddie lets out an annoyed whine but turns and heads back down the hall, collapsing on the bed where he immediately lets out a sigh of relief, the pressure that was building in his head from being vertical backs off as soon as he hits the pillows. Because Steve was right, of course. He should have just asked him to grab his stuff for him.

Steve comes in a few minutes later with all of Eddie’s notebooks and campaign books piled high in his arms. He dumps them on the bed and disappears again, coming back with a stack of Eddie’s tapes and his walkman, adding them to the mess on the bed and perching on the edge.

Eddie grins at him. “You’re the best, you know that?”

Steve shrugs, a little blush flashing on his cheeks. He reaches out and squeezes Eddie’s knee. “Just know you like to listen to music while you work. I’ll bring you some dinner in a little bit, okay?”

Eddie watches as he gets up to go, smirk firmly in place as he pulls his notebooks closer to him and flips the top one open, trying to jump back into the story he was forming.

–

Eddie stares down at his notebook, sniffing loudly and tossing a crumpled up tissue onto the floor next to the bed. He taps his pen on the page, trying to will the scene to write itself. A cough works its way up the back of his throat and sticks there, making him hack over and over until he’s pulling in a wheezing breath and falling back against the pillows.

“Fuck me.” He groans out, shoving his notebook away with a huff. He hates being sick. Can’t even manage to focus on his campaign for more than fifteen minutes before he’s coughing and exhausted and–

Steve pushes the door open with his hip, a steaming bowl of soup in his hands and a bright smile that reaches his eyes on his face.

Eddie sighs, pulling himself up to sit against the headboard and lets Steve fuss over pillow placements as he hands over the soup. He stares up at Steve, his chest full of adoration for this wonderful man who works himself into a tizzy because Eddie didn’t make sure he was properly supported by his pillows. Because how is his gorgeous man even real? How did Eddie get so lucky?

Eddie sets his soup on the side table as Steve leans over him, trying to manhandle Eddie into a position he deems acceptable and Eddie grabs his face, pulling him into a soft kiss, smiling against Steve’s mouth when he feels him melt a little into the touch.

Steve pulls back with a chuckle, pushing against Eddie’s shoulder. “It’s like you’re trying to get me sick, Eds.” Eddie lets out a laugh and sniffs, trying not to be an oozing, gross mess with Steve so up close and personal. “Sorry. I just can’t help myself when you’re being so sweet.”

Steve’s face blooms red and he ducks his head with a little shake before standing and grabbing Eddie’s soup off the table again, pushing it back into Eddie’s hands. “Eat your soup, baby.”

Eddie gives him a little two finger salute and nods, dimple popping on his check. “Yes, sir.”

Steve rolls his eyes as Eddie takes a big spoonful, making an obnoxiously loud slurp just to see the way Steve’s face scrunches in disgust.

–

Eddie wakes up in the middle of the night, coughing and wheezing, trying to catch his breath and be quiet so he doesn’t wake up–

Steve’s hand lands on his back, rubbing gently.

Eddie groans, looking guiltily over at Steve. “Sorry I woke–” His voice catches on another cough, sending him into another fit.

Steve sits up, hand still on Eddie’s back, the other coming up to sweep the hair away from his face. “It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”

Eddie nods, sucking in a deep breath and trying to ignore the tickle in the back of his throat threatening another cough. Steve gets up and heads out of the room, coming back with a glass of water that he hands to Eddie before sliding back into bed, his hand finding its way back to its spot on Eddie’s back. Eddie takes a couple of small sips before setting the glass aside and laying back down, Steve scooches in close, pressing their foreheads together, one hand still on Eddie’s back, the other working its way to tangle in his hair.

Eddie hums reaching up to cup Steve’s face, feeling content as his eyes slip closed.

–

The next morning Eddie wakes up feeling much better. He’s still a little stuffy, but his throat doesn’t hurt anymore and his head feels a little clearer. Like the sick haze is starting to dissipate. He stretches, letting out a satisfied groan and slips up to jump in the shower.

The hot water does wonders for him and by the time he steps out of the bathroom, rubbing his drenched hair with a towel, he feels almost human again.

He glances over at Steve, still fast asleep in the bed. Eddie’s brow scrunches together and he looks at the clock. 11:15am.

Huh. Steve never sleeps in this late. He gets up obnoxiously early to work out before he gets moving for the day. Eddie climbs back into the bed and presses soft kisses along Steve’s jaw, smiling when his sleepy eyes peek open at him.

“You slept in.” Eddie traces his fingers along Steve’s arm.

Steve lets out a little whimper, pressing his face into the pillows.

Eddie pushes some hair out of Steve’s face, his fingers grazing his forehead which is blazing.

Eddie curses under his breath, planting his hand more firmly on Steve’s skin. “Oh no, sweetheart.”

Steve peers up at him with big, sad puppy eyes, his voice strained and nasally. “I’m sick, Eds.”

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fanfic #stranger things reverse big bang #strbb #steddie fluff #ahhrenata #lady lostmind

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princessbrunette · 1 month

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omggg i adore kitty!reader so much shes so !! me !!! how do u think jayj would put her in her place … i feel like whenever shes having her mini tantrums people get equally as frustrated bc she gets feisty but jj has like .. magic on him or something 💭

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you’d been in a bad mood since coming home from work. bartending wasn’t for the weak, especially when the locals constantly harassed you and berated your drink pouring skills �� which was mostly put down to being a woman. by the time you get back to jj’s empty house, the blonde sat on his messy porch with a bottle of beer when you got back — you had quite the attitude.

“if it ain’t my favourite bartender. how’s m’girl, come over here.” he opens his arms and you storm right past making his brows shoot up, lips pressed together as he adjusts his cap. “alrighty, guess someone’s in a mood.” he pushes up onto his feet, swaggering in through the open door.

“‘somethin’ happen? what’s up?” he calls after you, spotting you in the kitchen angrily opening and closing cupboard doors as you try to make yourself something to eat.

“where is my plate?” you demand, clearly frustrated. he blinks, thinking back to your special plate that you always ate off. some cutesy antique thing you found at a yard sale, a beloved item of yours. he silently winces, eyeing it sat in the sink, soaking in bubbles.

“yeah uh, so basically i ate my lunch off it ‘cus i forgot to do the dishes, uh — again. that’s my bad. i got paper plates you can use? great thing about those is that when you’re done with ‘em you don’t gotta wash ‘em. you just throw ‘em away. makes me wonder why we even buy regular plates in the first pl—”

“no i don’t want a paper plate jj j want my plate! i just want to eat my food and— and you’re here just— just—” you explode, still refusing to offer him even a glance as you continue hunting for something to eat your leftovers off.

“hey, hey— put them claws away kittycat. no need for that. c’mon pretty girl where’s that smile?”

you spin around, fists balled at your side, tears of anger in your eyes.

“dont tell me to smile! go away!” you yell before turning away with a loud huff. jj drops his head down, tongue in his cheek as he nods, thinking for a moment before approaching slowly.

“easy, alright? you’re not gonna take that tone with me, mama i’m on your side.” as he speaks, you feel the warmth of his front press to your back, an arm cautiously sliding around your waist to keep you stable. his other arm snakes around your neck, pulling you into a light headlock, just enough pressure to ground you. he lowers his head to talk into your ear as you stare directly at the cabinet, already melting a little against him. “you wanna talk ‘bout your day? y’already know i’m all ears baby. but you gotta watch that attitude, yeah? you’re home now, i’m here. just… dial it back.”

there’s some silence, and you nod — releasing a shaky breath as you feel some of the grossness from your day leave your body. “uh-huh, that’s all you needed wasn’t it babydoll? needed to be told. that’s okay, i get it.” he kisses your temple before removing his arm from your neck, using both hands to squeeze your waist and turn you around.

the gaze he receives from you is nothing short of guilty, doll-like eyes blinking up at him slowly as you take deep breaths. “now what you’re gonna do, is sit that cute lil ass down and let me fix you up a plate. you’re gonna eat that shit, then, you’re gonna talk to me about your day,” he walks you backwards until your legs hit the chair at the table and you drop down to sit in it. he leans forward, hands cupping your cheeks. “and after that, oh i’mma fuck the shit out of you. like, you’re not even gonna remember what day of the week it is— let alone what shitty customers ran their mouth at you today. that sound good?”

“yes, jj.” you respond, pupils pretty much taking up your whole eye like an entertained kitten.

“thats what i like to hear, ma’am. alright, wait there. i got you.”

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#anon #kitty!reader #jj maybank prompt

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leqonsluv3r · 23 days

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valentine’s day

—leon finally starts to heal after he meets you in a grocery store, a blurb

masterlist taglist

an: i’ve had this idea in my head since i went to the LANY concert a month ago and heard this song live. i have not been the same person since, this drabble/blurb is dedicated to this song and leon. it’s a lot longer then i intended and i apologize lol

leon wasn’t one to heal easy.

not from his past, not from the missions when he saw more gore and blood then he wanted to. not when he had gagged every time he saw blood from that point foreword.

he was still healing when he walked into a grocery store about four months after his last mission. he was still healing when he grabbed one of those stupid baskets to carry your groceries in through the store.

he grabbed a couple bottles of alcohol, some snacks and some soap. essentials, things he needs. because sleeping without alcohol now is…it’s a lot harder then it used to be. just nightmares and images of bloodshed — he just says fuck it. he gets what he needs, what he wants and he goes up to the front of the store to pay.

what he doesn’t understand, when he sees you for the first time, is why your working in a grocery store of all places. your too beautiful for that, you should be doing something better, something worthy of your time. he doesn’t know a single thing about you yet and he’s willing to draw that conclusion.

you smile kindly at people from behind your register, your voice is kind and sweet. it draws something within him like a magnet, his heart is pounding, he’s going to explode or something. he used to be so good at talking to women but it’s declined as the years have gone by. he’s gotten tired, he just didn’t care like he used to.

he awkwardly sits his basket down on the conveyor belt of the register, you catch his eye and smile a little and it fucking does something to him. he knows he’s screwed beyond relief at that point. he smiles back, or tries to. he’s out of practice on that to, can’t remember the last time he’s smiled.

“this all for you?” you say softly, your eyes scanning over the bottles of alcohol, the snacks and the bottle of soap. he nods and chuckles a little, low and deep, just like his voice. “yeah, that’s all…” he grabs his wallet out of his back pocket of his jeans.

he wish he could say something better, something more positive and just something to grab your attention. he searches his brain as you tell him the total and he hands you the card. but he doesn’t have to say anything, you speak first.

“leon? that’s…you have a nice name.” you say and it snaps him out of his brain, he blinks those devastating blue eyes. ones that were once full of life, he nods. “my mom gave it to me.” he jokes lamely, or at least he thinks it’s lame until he hears your small little giggle.

he feels his heart beat with more confidence and energy now, like his one effort at making you smile is good enough. making you laugh is worth enough. you hand him his card back and put the receipt in the shopping bag, telling him to have a great day. not a nice day like you did with the others, but a great day. like you could tell he needed to hear that.

he walks out of the grocery store with the biggest, stupidest smile on his face. one that he has been a stranger to for months. he has you to thank for that.

the weeks that followed he came back to the grocery store, once maybe sometimes three times a week if he wasn’t sent off on a mission. he almost can’t help himself, he likes talking to you when your there.

you make him feel something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. it’s almost ridiculous, but he can’t help himself, it’s like an addiction. but it doesn’t involve him waking up with a hangover.

he keeps coming, week after week and buying things from the grocery store just to talk to you, just to see your sweet face. just to give him some kind of ray of sunshine that casts his whole body in a warm glow. making his heart beat faster.

but today was different, he was going to ask you out today. he was going to do it, he couldn’t be scared anymore. he couldn’t let you pass by anymore like something rare and just ignore you.

you were something to him. even if you didn’t even know that yet.

he walked up, carrying the same five things he always grabbed. his heart was pounding wildly, he was so out of practice but he just had to get out there and do it. just give himself something, he would hope you would say yes.

he put the items on the conveyor belt and waited until it was his turn, you finished checking out the customer in front of him and then turned to look at him. “hi stranger, haven’t seen you in awhile.” you say with a small frown, it’s adorable, it makes his heart melt.

he chuckles and shakes his head, “didn’t know you missed me.” he muses as he watches you start scanning his stuff. slowly and methodically almost as if you wanted this interaction to last longer too.

you sigh and shake your head, “of course i did, your my favorite customer.” you say with a small smile, and if he wasn’t looking so intently at you, he wouldn’t have noticed the subtle blush on your cheeks.

“i better be. goodness knows i give you guys enough business.” he chuckles playfully and flashes you a grin, almost as bright as the sun. he didn’t know where he was willing this confidence from, maybe it’s because he needed you. he needed you to at least attempt to be with him. you were the first light he has had in his life in a long time.

you scan his last item and he realizes it’s now or never, “26.73” you say as you lay out your hand for the card so he can pay. he reaches into his wallet and gives it to you, your fingers brush against each other. he wills himself to do it, to just do it now.

“uhm, i actually…i have a question for you.” he says with a small tremble of his hands, keeping his eyes on you to gauge your reaction behind the register. you look back up at him, swiping his card. “yeah?” you say and he could swear there’s almost hopefulness in your voice.

he swallows all the nerves down and attempts to keep himself calm enough to get this out, he can’t screw this up. he cannot screw you up, he would never forgive himself if he did.

“do you want to go out with me? like on a date?” he says and it’s so weird, the words feel foreign as they slipped from his mouth. usually women used to flock to him, but they didn’t anymore. his confidence with women had slipped right along with him trying to be sober all the time.

you blinked at him, holding onto his card in your small but intricate fingers. you seem to be thinking it over, weighing your options. he feels like the rejection is going to slip out of your lips at any given moment and he’s preparing himself for it.

then eventually, you respond, “i’d love to.”

now, it’s his turn to gawk and blink at you, almost perplexed that you are actually saying yes, accepting him and accepting this date. he can’t help the smile on his face, it’s almost stupid. you hand him the card and his brain goes on autopilot. you hand him the bag of his stuff, he grabs it and goes to walk away.

until, “wait! you forgot your receipt!” you yell behind him, holding up a slip of paper and waving it. he turns around and walks back to the register, his brows furrowed. you never gave him a receipt, he grabs the slip of paper from your fingers. he reads it over with confusion until he sees your number at the bottom, your hand writing and scribbles drawn with a little heart next to it.

he smiles, another genuine one that only you could conjure onto his face. “text me, we can set up a date.” you say to him, nodding towards the receipt. you look just as giddy as he feels inside. he nods, “absolutely. will do.”

he texts you the minute he gets home. and you respond. the texts keep going between you two until you both eventually settle on a date to go out. your both feeling like love-struck teenagers, so entranced with each other it’s almost borderline disgusting.

the week after you set the date passes and neither of you can hardly wait. you both have your reasons for being nervous, you both have that joy when you see each other but it shines in a different way. especially when he picks you up for your guy’s date.

you look stunning. stunning doesn’t even begin to cover it for him. you look like if heaven was a person, like an angel. that’s good enough reason for him to not let his blue eyes break from you all night.

and they don’t, they don’t ever break. not one second, he keeps his gaze on you at dinner, when your both talking and flirting aimlessly with each other. to leon, it feels good to have that someone; even if they don’t know it yet. that lights up their world and just makes it so much better.

he doesn’t break his gaze when you two walk by the lake, showing him all the birds and where they nest when winter comes closer. he admires the way you talk about small things, things that other people wouldn’t normally talk about or care about for that matter. but you took time, every week, to come feed the ducks and birds at this lake.

and he doesn’t break his gaze when he walks you back to your place, low intimate whispers that turn into slow kisses and touches. it doesn’t turn frantic, it just stays slow and gentle. it’s loving and it almost wants to make leon cry, because you care so much, this kiss just proves it.

because for the first time in a long time, you make him feel cared for. you make him feel wanted and it’s so much to him that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

he wants you forever, he wants you as long as you let him have you. and he’s always going to take care of you, just like you’ve unknowingly taken care of him. taken the sadness away from him by just being in his life.

three months later, you and leon were dating.

you guys were the happiest people, it seemed you brought leon back from the edge. he opened up and you learned all you could about him. he got to learn more about you. and you both loved the idea of having that one confidant in each other.

the one you would have when you were sad, scared, angry, frustrated, etc. everything made sense with the two of you together. and you guys found that one piece that was missing within each of you. you guys were happy, leon was smiling a lot more then he usually did.

he didn’t drink his days away anymore, he didn’t come back from missions to an empty apartment and he didn’t have nightmares. it was still there but you dulled the ache, you filled that dark hole inside of him that had been gone for so long.

you made him happier, you made him recognize the man in the mirror again with your love. your love and everything about you made him better. he was better for you.

you had each other to soothe the gaps and ridges of your guys souls that were jagged. you had that thing that he was searching for, that he’d been missing for so long.

he loved you.

and nothing was ever going to change that.

an: i love you guys sm :,) thank you guys for reading my stuff and engaging. i was so worried when i started writing on tumblr that it wasn’t going to take. that no one would like my writing and i was wrong. you guys have given me so much support in liking my fics. it makes me so happy to have that support. it keeps me going. i love you all, i’ll be posting a one shot soon, keep up on my requests. pls reblog if you enjoyed, you guys know the drill. kisses, xx.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim (to join the taglist DM me or interact with my link at the beginning)

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arieslost · 2 months

Text

act up | op81

summary: you and oscar have been skirting around each other for ages. it ends tonight.

word count: 949

warnings: drinking (we’re back in the club!), suggestive comments/moments

masterlist — join my tag list here!

oscar couldn’t stop staring at you, and he had no one to blame but himself.

well, himself and the empty shot glass in his hand. he’d lost count of how many times he’d tipped the contents of the glass down his throat, and it’s like that saying— a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts. or however it goes. if oscar were to insert himself in that equation now, he’d be the drunk guy.

the drunk guy who wanted to do nothing but stare at the girl sitting on his lap: you. he couldn’t remember how you got there for the life of him, but hell, he wouldn’t be caught dead complaining about it. it felt good to let his inhibitions go and his anxiety with them, even if all he was doing was sitting there with his arm around your waist, hand resting on your thigh.

you’re waving down the bartender to pour the two of you another round of shots from where you both sit in a booth, and he uses the liquid courage to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“are you trying to make me act up tonight?” he murmurs in your ear.

you press your lips together, tilting your head towards him so you’re practically cheek to cheek. “maybe. got a problem with that?”

“nope.”

he’s surprised at himself for his lack of filter and complete honesty with you; normally he isn’t even able to look anywhere near you without feeling his face getting hot. the same could be said about you, honestly. the boldest you’ve ever been towards him is giving him a kiss on the cheek when he got a podium finish a month ago, and both of you were bright red afterwards even though you both loved it. it didn’t help that lando had, of course, been there to make fun.

“i’m sick of the two of you. oscar, mate, be a man and kiss her for real.” he’d said, laughing as the two of you somehow turned an even deeper shade of red and looked in opposite directions.

“shut up, lando, for fuck’s sake.” oscar grumbled, punching him in the shoulder a little harder than normal.

“ah,” lando had just laughed harder before setting his sights on you. “if he doesn’t grow a pair it’s gonna have to be you.”

“die,” you told him, not being dramatic about it at all.

“i love you guys too. but not as much as you love each other!” he called before being chased out of the room by oscar’s balaclava and your empty water bottle hurtling towards him.

neither of you could endure lando’s teasing sober, especially not oscar, who spent way more time with him. but here he is, so many shots in that he’s lost count, and you on his lap. he’s going to run with it for as long as possible.

the bartender brings over the shots you ordered, and you pick up both.

“don’t cut me off now, i’m almost drunk enough to ask you to come home with me,” oscar says, lips brushing your neck.

he smiles when he feels you shiver, dragging his hand a little further up your thigh. “save it for when we’re sober,” you giggle as his fingers play with the bottom of your shorts.

“i’m not brave enough to say this stuff to you when i’m sober,” he confesses with a sigh.

“you should be. you know i’ll say yes.” you down a shot, and then hold up the other. “you want this?”

he nods. clearly there’s some magic in the shots that finally allows him to be forward with you.

you lift yourself up, much to his dismay, but he relaxes when you simply turn to face him and straddle his hips. “come and get it, then,” you say with a playful smirk, before tipping back the shot and looking at him expectantly.

you don’t swallow. oscar feels like he’s about to explode. he doesn’t waste any time in leaning forward and firmly pressing his lips to yours, knowing that he would never be daring enough to do this sober, as much as he always wants to. your fingers slide into his hair, carding through the long strands like you’ve done it a thousand times. his hands find purchase on your back, pulling you forward, before they slide down to your hips and squeeze. your mouth opens in surprise, but he’s expecting it and opens his mouth as well, allowing the alcohol to pass from yours to his.

you part from each other for a moment, and oscar barely even registers the harsh burn of the alcohol when he swallows, too intent on kissing you until he can’t breathe.

“oscar,” you moan out against his lips, and fuck, you sound so hot that he can only moan back at you, hands traveling down to your ass and grasping it firmly.

you’re pressed so close to him that he can hear the hitch in your breathing when he does so. he moves his attention to your jaw, your neck, your collarbones, wanting to know what places draw out those beautiful sounds from your mouth.

“oscar,” you say again, sounding more insistent, and he reluctantly lets you pull away. “not here.”

you giggle when his eyes light up. “but somewhere else?”

“somewhere else, when we’re sober.”

oscar pouts. “i don’t know if i can do this when i’m sober.”

“then i guess it’s gonna have to be me,” you echo lando’s words from last month with raised brows.

“lando can kiss my ass,” oscar says with a newfound determination. “i will do this when i’m sober.”

you grin. “that’s what I’m hoping for.”

note: the beginning of this was actually written for a fun little passion project of mine and i wanted to turn it into something a bit more. i hope u all enjoyed!

since this is being posted on march 12 it is important for me to say that this is most specially dedicated to @venusacrossthestars. my entire op81 week event is, but three years ago on this day, we met through a discord server, and i am so grateful to still know you today and call you my best friend. i love you bestie <3

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @hauntedphotographybookstaco @bigheartsthings @northpizzasposts @notturlover @riv3rbank @gesfjjsl @oliveisunstable @lily1sposts @sadbut-true0 @lilcowboy0 @alltoowelltaylor @kimis-gloves @superheroreader @alexmarie29 @anedpev @lalalaphie @waitingforsmartpeople @arrowenchantress @zillygoose @its-cat-eyes @gxllumsriddles @fionaschicken @mrsgeorgerussell63 @bre013 @lizzypiastri @blldsnjs @samantha-chicago @homosexualjohnwayne @opheliabluewolff @catbat011 @drivelikeiido @what-is-happening-helpp @decafmickey @tania2748 @steviesscoops @annahowardsworld @nessacarty1 @tswizzleismother @anythingforourmoonsy @meko-mt @solonelystill @tomriddleswhorecruxes @sammykiszkalover @landosgirl

#blurb #op81 week #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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fluloa · 1 year

Text

SOAKED | jake sully x reader [mini series pt. 4]

only warning for u alien fuckers: it’s a bit filthy. mentally prepare yourself ig. TWO HANDS ON THE PHONE PEOPLE

You're sharpening your knife as you sit in the designated spot for your next lesson. You're dreading it, if you're honest with yourself. You have so many emotions bottled up, just waiting to explode and Jake's probably going to be the victim of it. The weather is a bit on the cold side, giving you gentle shivers and making goosebumps rise on your arms. Your stomach is full with a weird feeling, anticipation almost.

Jake's husked voice startles you, "Looks alright."

You sigh quietly. Speak of the devil. You don't look at him when he walks over to you, sits down beside you with his big body as he bends a leg up, leaning his arm over his knee. "It's tricky because you really gotta flick it at the tip," he ghosts a finger along the edge of your knife. "So that it's real sharp."

You flick it hard as he says, but he shakes his head, moving behind you. "Real tight grip here," he closes his hand over yours on the handle, shaking it a bit for exaggeration. You can feel the warm air of his breath, dipping down your neck and it's taunting you. "And— give me your other hand."

You don't give it to him. There's a second of silence before he takes your hand for himself, enveloping it with his own hand before he's lining it up at the thick girth of the knife's base, and striking it up, a nice shing sound coming out of it. He does it a few more times before he's letting your hands go, watching you do it by yourself.

"That's good. Keep it tight." His words of praise shamefully give you a rise, a cool shrivel slivering down your chest. You swear he's doing it on purpose, you swear.

While you flick at your knife with the silver sharpening tool, you look to the side, not directly looking at him but it's enough to grab his attention to your face. "Remember that hexapede I killed?" He hums in a curious tone, and you take it as a response to speak further. "Well, I tried looking for it, but it wasn't there. Some other animal must've snatched it up."

"Nah, I carried it back to the village," he announces.

"Right. When you left me?" you ask, tugging a sharper strike to your knife than the other strikes. Jake notices it. His jaw tenses, blinking to you with his eyes boring holes into your form.

"When I left you." He swallows, "Listen, I wanna apologise—"

"Oh, you want to apologise, Jake?" you laugh sarcastically, venom dripping from your words.

His jaw tenses, "I didn't want to leave you."

You snap your head back, a glare stung into your eyes. "But you did."

"You're making it out like it's a bad thing that I did."

You laugh dryly, chucking your knife onto the ground as you stand up. He immediately stands up with you, glowering over you. "You know that it is."

"Don't tell me what I know and don't know, girl." Jake warns, nose twitching. "I helped you, and then left. That simple."

"You can't tell me that you weren't just fucking me to help me. That's not how it works and if you say otherwise, you're lying," you snarl.

He's quiet for a second, searching back and forth between your eyes with his chest rising with a long breath in, "I don't—"

You give him a harsh shove to the chest, hissing out a groan of anger. His eyes blow out wide, then they relax into a dangerous squint. Your eyes widen. He reaches for you and grabs firmly at your wrist, his fingers clutched tight around your bone and your arm twitches with the sudden spring of pain. You attempt to slip your wrist out of his grasp, and when it doesn't work and he doesn't budge, you claw at his jaw recklessly. It's successful and he lets go of your wrist with a grunt.

He grabs your hair, fisting his fingers through your scalp before yanking it back. You swing your leg and kick him in the stomach, sending him back as you zoom past him.

He acts quick and grabs your tail, tugging you back towards him and for the millionth time this week, presses you against him. You stamp on his foot, digging your nails into the skin of his arm and he cries out, a half-hiss and half-groan. He flips you, finds the tree right beside you and pushes you flat against it. He takes both of your wrists into his hands as he shakes them angrily. You scramble and squirm in his grip. "I'll tell you what I know, girl, and you'll fucking listen."

You whine out a hiss, heart beating against your rib cage like it's about to pop out and splatter across the ground. He hisses back, edged fangs spiking out from his mouth and it makes your skin crawl in either a bad or a good way, you're not entirely sure.

"I know that you're the most beautiful person I've ever fuckin’ seen," he pants. "You don't know what you do to me, huh? Just your giggle makes my stomach drop. It annoys the shit out of me how you've got me drawn to you, it's damn stupid. I don't know what to do with myself anymore."

You try to wiggle your wrists out from his grip, but it proves to be helpless, a smug look flickering in his eyes that makes you want to clock him straight in the face. Jake picks your joined wrists up off the tree and slams them back onto the wood for a hard warning. "You— you think you're confused?" you sneer between huffed breaths. "Mr. I'mfuckingyoutohelpyouconcentratenotbecauseIwantto. Like that doesn't fuck with my feelings! By the way— it didn't help me focus, just like the last time, what a surprise."

His lips split into a snarl, an annoyed flick of his tail as he glares you down, his chest grumbling with a deep growl. You return him with the same feverous eyes, chest strong and upheld with no sense of backing down.

Then you catch it. The weakness of only a man; the millisecond of a pair of eyes dropped down to your heaving lips. Your eyelashes flutter, a new tension rushing in like a thick cloud of smoke. Your heads jut forward at the same time, teeth clashing in a rushed, wanted motion morphed into a messy kiss.

But it's different this time. It feels different, different than the first kiss he gave you the first time you were pushed up against a tree. You can't pinpoint it, but it's just different.

He lets your wrists go, grip fading to a none until your arms are flopping around his shoulders. His tongue slips with ease into the cavern of your mouth, as he uses a hand to cup the part of your neck just below your ear, bring your face even closer to his. You let your head tilt, allowing him a wider opening to your mouth that he groans lowly in thanks to.

He skims past your loincloth, palming your hot cunt and grinding the hard edge of his palm directly onto your clit. "This give you déjà vu from last time?"

You groan, back arching towards his head. "Shut up and put your fingers in me," you whine.

"I remember leaving with the biggest fuckin' boner. Seein' you all whiney and shit and like putty in my hands," he claims, seeming like he can just feel the pain from remembrance. "Good thing you can fix it for me this time."

He says this as he leisurely slides two fingers into your cunt, and you suck in a tight breath, the thick girth of them lengthening you out. "And just like that, sucking me allll the way in," he whispers in astonishment, just like the last time.

"Will you just shut up?" you groan, wheezing out a groan when his fingers curl into your walls. He strokes them in and out of you, slowly and steadily. He presses loosely at your clit, gentle circles on the sensitive bud.

Then he suddenly pulls his two fingers out, staring at the thin strings of your juices that stick to his finger pads, "Wet enough."

He kneels to the ground in a rush, taking you with him as he fumbles to untie your top. You drag your hands along his skin, touching every patch of hard bone and toned muscle you can manage. You're both kneeling in front of each other, grabbing at any clothing that gets in the way of each other's fingers. He pushes you back with a hand, laying you out in the grass as he scoops his hand down to your pussy, runs a thumb over your clit. Jake leans down, grabbing at the bone of your hips and jutting you closer to him.

Jake cooly wraps a hand around his cock, sighs as he starts to stroke the length in slow movements. He reaches out from behind him, and your stomach drops. He presents his tsaheylu to you with a sense of shyness, his head tilted down. You look between him and the glowy, spiky end of his platt.

Your silence speaks volumes to him, and just before he's going to say something to rub it off as a joke, you're reaching from behind you as well, body squirming in anticipation as you air your tsaheylu next to his. They twitch and fizzle, swaying so close and it's just that tiny bit of space that needs to be filled.

He looks to you, eyes softening in one last ask and you give him a reassuring, hasty nod. He readjusts his grip on his platt, leaning his tsaheylu just a little closer and they connect. A surge of electricity bolts through your body, biting in a gasp as your skin jitters. You feel it, you feel him, understand him. Understand everything.

Jake's blinking rapidly, as he leans over you just to nuzzle his face into your neck, his hot pants of breath pressing into your skin. He slurs over his words, "Oh my... fffuck, s' good, you're so good."

"Jake," you warn, voice wavering as you tremble underneath his warm body. "Need you ins— inside me. Right now, Jake, please."

He teases his cock at your entrance, letting out a shaky breath at your warm wetness trickling down his tip. You gasp when he slips it in with one thrust, bottoming out perfectly as he sits in snug. He breathes out a quiet laugh, "You're so... fuck, girl. So warm and— and ni—hice."

You dig your nails into his back, tail curling around his thigh. You feel everything he feels, connecting with him at such a level that all you can do is hold onto him, just needing to feel him, to hold him and kiss him and fuck him and do everything as long as it's him. You can only rasp one word out. "Jake."

He snaps his hips into you, starts at a pace that's brutal and uncalculated. His cock pushes into your tightness with ease, like it was made for him. You pull him in with each thrust he gives you, welcoming him in to the warmth of your femininity, your body that he's claimed as his.

Your pussy flutters around his girth with every single groan he lets slip from his throat, voice cracked and husky from the euphoria he's coated with. He lands a kiss to your neck, suckling at the skin before biting down, a sting that zips through your body all the way down to your cunt. You squeal, back snapping into an arch and he scoops an arm around it, giving him a better grip on your body to deepen his thrusts, to strive further up into your pussy.

He desperately grabs at your thighs, swings them up and over his shoulders as your feet dangle in the air. It opens up a whole new angle, and you scream out, his dick hitting steeper and stronger inside of you. Your hair is tangled from the ground, the skin of your back grinding against the dirt of it.

At the new found angle, he groans, head leaning up a little as his eyelids close halfway, his eyes bruised in a haze. He's completely lost in the way you squeeze around him, the way his cock feels sliding into your tight body. It's like a drug. A new found addiction.

"Shut up, hah— jus' fuck me," you babble, a moan ripping out of your chest when his hips thrust a sudden jolt into your pussy, brushing over your cervix.

"How funny," he pants out, smirking like a goddamn idiot and you frown.

"What?" you question, a quick moan breaking from you when a random wave of heat splashes through your stomach.

"Bet Selkath wishes he was wearing this necklace." He rasps, letting a harsh laugh fall from his mouth as he reaches up a hand and tugs on your ankles wrapped right around neck.

You make a weak hiss, turning into a groan when he lifts his body higher, angles his cock deeper up into your cunt. "If you don't shut up, maybe I'll let him."

Jake growls, eyes flicking wild, turning a dark and dangerous hue that you can tell is whipped with a color of jealousy, even betrayal. "You won't even be able to feel him graze your pussy once I'm done with you."

You feel a purr erupt from your chest, your inner woman squealing in delight because yes, she screams, he must breed you until all you can feel his body and only his and nothing else.

He brushes a hand over your cheek, face distorted in complete bliss and he stares deep into your face, tail swishing at the way your mouth agapes. His hands slip to your waist, thumbs digging into your stomach and he uses it as a leverage to bring you back harder onto his dick, lifting you up until you're practically leaning on his body to stay off the ground. He bends you to his will like you're a rubber band, like a toy.

"So warm," he coos, and you whine, digging your head into the grass laying beneath it. You don't want him saying that, don't want him climbing his stupid fingers into your heart and taking it any more than he already has. The feminine instinct fixed in the depths of you screams mate, mate, mate. Big, protective mate that needs to pound you into oblivion or you'll lose your mind. That along with the anger that burns inside you, like a match that's been lit way too many times and is about to snap underneath the pressure of his hands.

"Jake, just shut up," you snap, sentence ending on a hasty push when he smashes his lips onto yours, exploring your mouth with the thick flat of his tongue. He kisses you with a fever, an aching want with a grunt falling from his lips and straight onto the slick of your tongue. Jake crawls a hand up your body and to your head, fingers threading through your hair and he turns your head forcefully, allowing him to deepen the kiss and wrap his tongue tighter along yours.

"God, you're just fucking beautiful," he grunts, slapping your hips. "With this pretty fucking pussy, s' good for me and your little noises and— ssshhit, my girl. S' made for me, you're made for me."

My girl. It makes your stomach spin, makes you clench around his cock driving in and out of you and he groans, "You liked that, huh? My girl?"

You feel his pace inch a slower, and you're confused. His hand scrapes to one of your hands, slipping through the gaps of your fingers and he conjoins them together, pressing deep against the ground. His mouth breaks from yours, deep, panting breaths shaking out from his chest as he leans down to ravage your neck, licking and sucking at your skin like it's a ripe fruit.

You recognise the speed of his thrusts. Slow but strong, like he's trying to memorise each drag of his cock squeezing into your pussy, each squelch and pull of your walls gushing around his length. The rock of his hips is sweet, an act of something you can only describe as passion. You scratch out a whine. You squirm from underneath him, attempting to buck yourself up into him to speed it up, make him nail so hard into you that you see stars. But it doesn't work. He stays the same warm speed, slow rocks into your pussy as he lowly sighs with every calming push.

"No," you whimper, voice lower than a whisper, so quiet it could count as another breath. You huff out an angered patch of air out through your nose. You use both hands and push him, and he doesn't expect it because he tumbles back, flipping onto his back and hitting the trunk of the tree with a big thump. You ignore the cold air pushing on your wet cunt, the sudden loss of his cock deep inside of you making you shudder.

You crawl onto him, eyes wide with hunger and from what he can see, anger. Your tail flicks as you palm his shoulders, knees on each side of his legs as you air just above his dick. You grip at his tsaheylo and conjoin it to yours again, a flush rushing through you both. You catch the way his eyes flatten against his head for a second at your determined, heated gaze, now realising the rage you held. A woman who's not satisfied with her mate's fucking, there's nothing scarier. Especially after everything he's teased her for, everything he's done to her for the past week.

"Baby, you ain't gonna last two rocks with those little hips." Jake mutters, emphasising the words two rocks as he places his hands comfortable on your hips. You don't reply, instead lowering your body and inch by inch, sinking down onto his cock. He lengthens you up, and you feel so full and nice that you let out a sigh that screams finally, all the while hearing Jake take the biggest breath you've ever heard him take.

You're not wasting time as you start grinding against him, ears twitching, head falling back in utter bliss. Jake slips out a quiet laugh, and it sounds nervous. He watches as your breasts shift with each sway of your hips, and his cock twitches inside of you at the obscure scene. It's perfect, so, so perfect with the way his cock drags through you. But you need more.

You begin lifting yourself up, rocking right back down onto him, the motion of riding coming into play little by little. Jake's breath hitches, his hands twitching at your hips. Your cunt pulses around him, puffy folds tugging his dick so perfectly. He lets his head slump against the tree, the rise of his chest speeding up.

You lean forward, a sudden desperation taking over you, the anger flickering in your abdomen crackling to a fire. You grab at his hair, press your cheek against the top of his head as your hips move in an up and down circular motion. Jake chokes out a grunt, springing forward to kiss at your chest, shoving his face into your breasts as his tongue lolls out along your bare skin.

He pants, messy kisses along your chest as his mouth fans out hot breaths. "My g—"

"Shut. Up." You pull on his hair, forcing his head further back and moaning as you stride your body, moving his cock in so deep, then moving it just about out before you rock it back in. You shift a hand to grip at the tree for better stability, rising up before gravity whips you back down onto his dick. A whine leaves his lips, a literal whine. It's so, so quiet, but you hear it, and he knows it. He can tell by the way your ears flutter at his head. You puff out a laugh that's hilted with breath.

He leaves deep kisses along your chest, kissing at the plush fat of your tits and decorating the map of your torso with dark marks and tiny red hickeys. His tongue finds your nipple, swirling it around the hard bud and you move your hips faster, huffing out a moan as sweat beads neat at your forehead. The blunt of his nails dig deep into the skin of your hips, and starts to move your hips with his grip, sharpening your strokes into his dick and you hum an appreciated sigh.

You've left him stunned for words, mouth hung open as you grind your cunt deep along his cock, riding him like he's a goddamn stallion. You wrap your fingers around his leathered choker, leaning your head back and pulling him rough into an even rougher kiss. You can feel him pant into the kiss, his silent groans pressing on your tongue. His lips are wet and messed with saliva from previous times, all the while making them softer and easier to run your tongue over.

A broken moan escapes his mouth, muffled by your lips engulfed in his but it only whips the fire tangled inside your tummy, makes your body swing harder along his. You give him a sloppy kiss on the corner of his lips, before nibbling at the bottom centre of it, "Who's whining now?"

His hips jerk up into yours, a stutter of a motion and you can feel the vibration, the angry rumble of his chest and it only encourages you further to drive your hips harder. "Still you," he bites, but his pinched expression melts into a blissful one when you raise your waist higher, slamming back down onto him in one quick motion.

Anger fuels through your bones, all the way down your body to your toes that dig into the ground, dirt blotched on them from the constant movement and curl of them. Jake snaps his hips up into your sopping sex, gaining a low groan through his chest as he digs his messy head of hair into the tree against him.

Your body burns and shakes with every stride of your hips, sliding his cock into you with reckless rhythm. You're shivering with hot emotion, a blurred mixture of adore and vexation, and Jake can feel every single drop of it. You feel him shift underneath you, eyes squinting and his tail whacking the tree accidentally with a swift brush. He mumbles your name, the hoarse gruff of his voice sending a shivered bolt down your spine.

You already know he's preparing some rushed apology, some kind of reason as to why he's been throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes lately but you don't want to hear it. All your body and your being screams at you is to ride his cock and make him spill into you. Mark him as yours.

You want the release, can feel it burning up inside you and splintering at your fingertips, ready to explode into flames. Except this time it isn't him giving it to you, you're giving it to yourself, circling your hips around his cock like it's the last thing you're going to do.

And by Eywa, does Jake fucking love it. He's too focused in the way your perfect little cunt drives him, slipping his cock into your body like it's a piece of cake. He's entranced by the way your hips dance, the perky little bone of them sticking out against your skin each time you lean forward into his stomach. He's getting fucked dumb, and he can't even bring himself to give a shit. Never in his life has he ever met a girl that could ride like you. No, never in his life has a ever met a girl like you. And he doesn't think he ever will, not that he wants or needs to now. Your body is just too sickly sweet, and everything in his body screams at him to just keep his cock glued into you, fill you with his cum until all you can feel is it.

You feel it coming, feel the same mountain morphing as it soars above you. You use your hand to lean at his head, using it as your advantage to ride him rougher, dragging his cock firmer into your cunt. He lets you, now fucking up into you with matched energy and you're bouncing from the capacity. Sweat is slick on your skin, mending with his own and you just need to feel him, touch the soft skin he owns as you bounce on his length. Apparently Jake feels the same, as he pinches and grabs at any part of your body he can reach, mouth touching where his hands can't.

He drags out your name, desperation covering the word and filling in the air after with throaty groans. “Let me come in you, sweetheart. Come on, please. Need to, darlin’ please, need—“

“Yes,” you squeal, scratching at his skin while jutting your hips against him violently. “Pleasepleaseplease,” you beg, crave covering your voice in a high-pitched whine.

Then it hits you, like a bomb setting off, the fire in your belly exploding into millions of little red embers. The mountain erupts like a volcano, and you can feel every little piece cracking down into the ground and out your body. Jake yells out, croaking out a loud grunt as he spills into you, coating your walls with his sticky load. Your head’s spinning, eyes seeing a splash of colors and all you can do is rock in his arms, as you attempt to catch your running breath.

You’re trembling, quaking even as you lay still, Jake’s cock sitting limp in your body. The only thing you can focus on is your conjoined breaths, everything else seeming to hard to even look at. You don’t even realise you’re crying until the tears sink to your neck, and the sound of your quiet sniffles.

You don’t know how long it’s been until Jake begins to shift, and you pull enough strength to lean back. He looks to you, his face set into a hue of content, a small smug smile pulling at his lips. He reaches out to your face, wipes the tears on your face with his thumb lazily. “Holy shit,” he chuckles.

You let out a needed, soft laugh, and his smile widens at the noise of it, tail whisking up at your reaction. He pulls in a breath, chest rising up as he takes both his arms and cups your face. You lean into his warm touch, slumping your forehead against his.

“I see you,” he whispers gently, curling a few fingers around your neck.

“I see you.” You whisper back, mouth cracking into a giddy smile. And when you look into his eyes, you recognise the emotion behind them within a second; love.

wow. biggest chapter out of all of them and i can’t decide whether i like it or not

BIG SHOUTOUT TO @slxttedjakesullyenthusiast who helped me make this filthy fucking piece of whatever it is and if u don’t go follow her im kicking you in the pussy don’t test me

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 4 months

Text

❤️

You're tired of hearing about Eddie's crushes, hiding your feelings for him. Sick of feeling second best, you decide to move on.

Beer, a pool, and a very handsome Steve Harrington happens. Eddie isn't so thrilled about the Steve part.

Just a lil two parter to get back into writing

Part one

Eventual Eddie Munson x Reader

Steve Harrington x Reader

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work

❤️

It was a rainy Tuesday when Eddie broke your heart. Unknowingly, but it was broken all the same.

He had came to the Hellfire table in a suspiciously good mood. Beaming smile, eyes shining with happiness.

Turns out he had ran into Jessie who was his newest crush, she was the coolest, most badass babe on the planet according to Eddie.

This had been repeated constantly for the last few weeks and usually you were able to smile politely, pretend you weren't dying inside hearing him talk about his dream girl.

It had been this way for a year now, through multiple crushes, a few hook ups and one near potential girlfriend for Eddie, so you could push yourself to be happy for him one more time right?

No, today it was like your heart finally had enough, a deep ache was building inside you and felt like all the pain was exploding inside of you all at once.

Tears pool in your eyes and you catch the sympathetic look that Dustin throws in your direction. It's enough to sober you up instantly.

You didn't want to constantly pine over Eddie when he didn't want you, it was agony being so completely smitten with someone who noticed every woman but you.

It was like something in you just snapped and you had enough.

"Hey princess, you okay?" Eddie's voice breaks through your reverie and you startle a little as he peers at you intently with his big brown eyes.

His hand is on yours and your whole body feels alight at just his slightest touch, it was getting harder and harder to hide your feelings, Eddie could be extremely perceptive when he wanted to be.

You needed to get over how you felt about him and soon, because you were sick of the constant heartache, second guessing yourself and feeling second best to Eddie's crushes.

Moving on would be a good thing. You couldn't take it if Eddie ever found out how you felt about him, embarrassment burns inside of you just thinking about his reaction, and how awkward Hellfire would be due to his rejection.

No, it was best for everyone if you found a way to get over Eddie.

❤️

Normally you didn't go to parties, especially not parties on a school night. However, there was a small part of you that wanted a change, to have some fun and let loose.

One of Jason's friends was throwing a party at his house, there was beer kegs, wine coolers and the biggest pool you had ever seen in your life.

Eddie was at the party to do his usual dealings, he catches your eye and looks stunned for a brief second.

"What are you doing here sweetheart? Parties aren't usually your thing?" you shrug and grab a bottle of beer.

"Just wanted a change of scenery I guess" it's then you notice that Jessie was also at the party and Eddie had noticed judging by the way his eyes light up.

Your heart sinks and you're about to make an escape until Eddie tugs on your hand.

"Hey, maybe you should stick close to me incase one of Jason's dipshit friends tries anything" you smile, touched at his protectiveness but you know deep down he'd rather be talking to Jessie than trailing after you all night.

"It's okay. I saw Robin by the pool so I'll go and chat to her for a bit" he's about to say something else but Jessie comes over and takes up all of his attention.

Yup, it's definitely your time to leave. There's no way you wanted to be around for Eddie making googly eyes at Jessie.

❤️

Between the pounding music, Eddie and Jessie and the fact you've lost Robin in the crowd, it was safe to say that the first hour of the party was a bust.

By the second hour you had gotten involved in a game of beer pong with Robin, Steve, Vickie and a few others.

At first you were kinda wary hanging out with Steve but you soon found out that he had changed so much from the King Steve of a few years ago.

He's kind, funny and kind, genuinely a good guy and him and Robin are like two peas in a pod. Platonic besties with a capital P she tells you and Vickie.

It's nice hanging out with them because everytime you see Jessie and Eddie together it needled at the ache in your heart.

Eddie joins in at one point but seems tense.

"Why are hanging out with Harrington?'' he hisses under his breath and you scowl.

"He's really nice" Eddie scoffs at this.

"Preppy, rich, douchebag? he's seen dating total babes every few weeks." you stiffen.

"Of course so why would he be seen with me right?" you ask heatedly and his eyes widen.

"That's not what I meant... You're beautiful sweetheart..." yeah but just a friend you finish his sentence in your head.

"Just forget it Eddie, go back to Jessie" you hurry away from him and curse yourself for getting so upset.

Steve notices and asks if you want to hang out in the pool.

It's quieter outside than in the house, people are just lazing around lightly buzzed, lost in their own conversations.

Steve makes you laugh by jumping in the pool fully clothed, he lets out a yell when he hits the water.

"Fuck, its freezing" and you swear you hear Robin calling him a dingus. The thought makes you smile.

"So Munson huh?" Steve asks gently and your smile vanishes.

"Mmm, tonight was my big plan to get over him. Didn't work out so well" There's a brief moment of silence that's broken when Steve takes you by surprise and you're suddenly in the pool beside him, soaking wet and torn between laughter and exasperation.

"Steve!" you huff out and his answering smile tugs at your heart. There's also something you didn't expect, a spark.

He moves closer to you and it's like the two of you are magnets. Steve strokes your cheek and his lips meet yours.

It's nice, it's really really nice and you moan softly as Steve gently tugs at your lower lip, deepens the kiss and pulls you even closer.

Steve pulls away and you both exchange a secret, shy smile at the moment you had.

You kiss him again and this time it's a little more hot and heavy. Only this time when you come apart, you're not alone.

Eddie has just come outside. He's staring at you and Steve, his expression blank but you notice something stirring deep in his eyes, a flash of emotion that you can't place.

Then it's gone and he storms back inside..

🖤

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you

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its-time-to-write · 6 months

Note

hello! First thing first, I want to say how much of a good writer you are, I hope you know this 💕 second I have this idea of reader and Jamie dating, but nobody knows. One day reader is in the coaches room and starts yawning and Roy is like what's that 🤨 (something similar to that scene with beard after he gets back with jane) and reader answers with "you have been waking me up everyday at 4 am" or smt like that and this is how everyone finds out. I know you have already written something like this but I thought it was cute, so feel free to ignore

this was cute. you were right.

coffee at midnight

Neither you nor Jamie exactly decided to keep your relationship a secret.

“It’s not a secret, it’s private, babe,” Jamie insists. You just roll your eyes.

But like, it is private.

That means no instagram posts, no public dates, and no unasked opinions. It also means that Jamie gets a Polaroid camera (“so we don’t get hacked, babe,”), plans dates in his giant house, and keeps fans’ noses out of your relationship.

It also, also means that Roy Kent doesn’t know you’re in Jamie’s bed every morning when he knocks on the door loud enough to wake the dead.

You’re a week into these shenanigans, and you’re not sure how much longer you can handle it. You’ve barely been at Nelson Road for an hour, but you’ve yawned more than you’ve spoken. Jamie’s been sending you apologetic looks every time he passes you in the hall, but now the entire team is in the weight room as you bring the coaches their coffee.

You place Roy’s in front of him and he asks, “The fuck’s wrong with you?”

You glare. “Nothing. That’s rude to ask, anyway. I’m-” you pause to yawn- “fine.”

Ted looks between you and Roy. “Normally I’d side with the lady on this one, but you look dead on your feet. You been sleepin’ okay?”

“Yes,” you reply shortly. “I’ve been sleeping fine. I just don’t get a lot of it these days.”

“That sounds decidedly un-sexy,” Trent calls from his desk.

You snarl, “It isn’t,” then realize that Trent is undeserving of your anger. “I’m sorry. I’ve been getting like five hours of sleep every night this whole week. Me and my boyfriend just moved in together and we both talk like way too much. So we usually don’t fall asleep until late.”

The room fills with whistles and hoots from Ted, Beard, and Trent. Roy is stoic as always.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Ted grins. “What’s his name?”

You hesitate. You’re pretty sure Jamie would be okay if you told Ted, but you’re not sure you really want to. You let the silence stretch on for a beat too long, and Trent’s on you like a vulture.

“It’s someone here, isn’t it?” he asks.

“No,” you reply, but it’s not convincing. It’s hard for you to lie when you’re this tired.

Jamie and Sam choose this exact moment to come into the locker room to grab water bottles. Jamie glances at you and you make the mistake of glancing back. It’s just for a second but Trent catches it with his stupid eagle-eyes.

“Oh shit,” he says.

You round on him. Maybe he does deserve your anger. “Don’t say anything,” you warn.

He zips his lips as Roy says, “Why are you being so fucking weird? We know you’re fucking lying. Just say which of these little pricks you’re dating and get some sleep like a fucking normal adult.”

“I’d be able to get regular sleep, except you’ve been waking me up at fucking 4am!” you explode.

The room goes silent.

“Fuuuck,” Roy whispers. “Fucking Tartt? You’re dating- fuck, you moved in with fucking Tartt?”

“Yes,” you groan, “We’ve been together for six months and it’s probably the most serious relationship I’ve ever been in, and I know how it sounds but we really like each other. Higgins already knows because of HR shit but other than that, it’s been private.”

Ted and Beard have matching open-mouthed smiles. It would be a little scary if you hadn’t known them for as long as you have.

“That’s the most adorable shit I’ve ever heard in my whole life,” Beard says.

“Hold on,” Trent interjects, “does this mean you and Jamie have been staying up late every night talking?”

“Yes,” you reply primly. “And then this prick bangs on our door at fuck-thirty in the morning and I’m awake for the rest of the day.”

Roy says, “Right,” very slowly. “Is that fucking why he wasn’t wearing fucking trousers?”

All eyes turn to you.

“I’m not answering that,” you say. “In fact, I think I hear Higgins calling me. I have to leave right now.” You back out of the room and down the hall before anyone can say anything else.

The coaches’ office is silent for a moment before they all clamor out of their seats to chase you down the hall. They have so many questions but first, they’re going to yell at Higgins for keeping it a secret.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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ghouljams · 9 months

Note

not to be a slut but what if price tapped witch?

"Why don't we just wipe her and try again?" Gaz asks, already on his feet and moving towards you with an efficiency you haven't seen in years. You try not to be intimidated by the threat. Price wouldn't let anything happen to you, at least you don’t think he would. You trust him, and he must trust Gaz or he wouldn't have brought him. So you’re doing your best to trust Gaz as well.

"Not a good-" Price's words are cut short by Gaz's fingers pressing against your forehead with a soft tap before you can even think to swat his hand away. Price shoots to his feet almost as quickly as you feel the pierce of wild magic sliding through your brain. A jagged knife pushing home between the hemispheres of your brain, snapping synapses and tearing tissue. Your eyes go wide as agony sweeps over you.

"Price?" You don't know what you mean to say after that, or even what your intentions with it were in the first place. The sharp block of fae magic sits menacingly between your thoughts, pushing out everything else with increasingly painful precision. When you look at Price for help you taste blood, feel tears spill down your cheeks. Price's face contorts into something akin to panic as he reaches for you.

The two fae are snapped from your home, your wards identifying and expelling the threats as you stumble to your feet. You can't make your eyes focus on anything but the bright crimson blood that coats your fingertips as you draw them away from your lips. Your nose is bleeding.

Price pounds on the door, yelling for you. You do your best to ignore it and drag yourself to your kitchen, hands shaking and breaths shallow as you open your apothecary cabinet. You grab- no you- you can't remember what you're supposed to grab in this situation. The pain is starting to make it hard to think, and your vision won't clear enough to read the scrawled labels on the bottles in front of you.

"Let me in Sweetheart," Price calls through your door, "please let me in," his voice sounds as desperate as the bang of his fist against the wood, "I can fix this, please."

You can fix this too. You're sure you know how to fix this. You just cant- you can't recall it. You grip your head with a whine, dig your fingers against your hairline as pain shoots against the back of your eye. You need a proxy. You need something to take this pain so you can think about how to get the twisting knife out of your skull.

You try to open the large drawer in the middle of the cabinet and find it stuck. You jiggle the handle to try and coax it open, tugging blindly at the drawer. There’s poppets in there, raw materials, you’re sure- you’re sure if- fuck you’re not-

You press your shaking hands to your eyes, clawing at your head to try and release some of the pressure. It feels like your skull is about to explode. You try not to scream in pained frustration. Everything is too much. Too bright and searing. You’re losing parts of your brain as quickly as you can remember them. You feel like a cup being poured out, the profound loss of yourself a threatening undercurrent to the pain.

You need this -whatever it is- out of you. You try to remember your spells, your magic, the things your mother and grandmother have drilled into you since you were small. You don’t have time to think (couldn’t hope to anyway) you can only rely on the instinct that’s been nurtured in you.

You are raw unfiltered magic, built on generations of magical blood. It courses through your veins like a guiding compass and forces you forward, self preservation and adrenaline carrying you when your feet don't want to. The pounding. The pounding on the door. It's like a never ending drum beat, tattooing itself over your eardrums. There's someone very insistent at your door. A proxy, your ancestors whisper to you.

You rip the door open, grab the face of the man banging on it, and press. Press all the pain out of your body and into him, push the knife out of your skull and drive it as deep as you can into him until it doesn't hurt anymore, until you don't feel anything anymore. And he lets you. Whoever he is, he lets you pour the invading magic into him, his hand tight around your wrist as you do, holding you steady. He catches you around your waist when the adrenaline leaves you in a rush, and your legs can't support you anymore, holds you tight to his chest and murmurs soft kindnesses to you. You're not sure why when you've surely given him every painful reason to spit and curse at you.

"It's alright Sugar, it's- Christ what took you so long, I thought-" He presses his lips to your forehead, wiping away the last of whatever invading force was putting you through hell.

“Price I-” There’s another person here, you flinch away from his voice.

“Save it, you didn’t know.” Price, that’s a familiar name, cuts him off. Price crouches, adjusts his hold on you and slips an arm under your knees to lift you. “Witches are a rare breed,” He grunts, bouncing you a little in his hold to coax you to hang on, “and even if we didn’t mix like oil and water this one’s warded to hell and back.”

“Generational,” You mumble, trying to deepen your breathing, eyes squeezed shut against the sunlight.

“You comin’ back to me already, Sweetheart?” Price murmurs, there’s something rumbly and comforting in his chest. It makes you feel safe and held. You hum, not sure what he’s talking about. He smells good, cool like the winter breeze, after the horrible burning it’s a nice change. Price is mumbling something to himself, the rumbling starting to peter off as he does. That’s alright, it’s done its job leading you towards sleep. You’re jostled back to wakefulness with a few purposeful bounces. “You want me to put you to bed?” He asks softly, you think that’s a funny question considering he’s already trying to put you to sleep.

“Please.”

“Atta girl,” You feel when he passes through the threshold into your home. The wards raised and poised to attack the magic that had threatened their owner. You wish they wouldn’t bother you when you’re so worn out. That seems to work well enough for them to settle, humming in annoyance as Price carries you through the little archway separating the bedrooms from the main room of the house.

You’re set on a soft surface, your bed you think, and Price’s hands leave you to let you cuddle into your pillows. You open your eyes as he pulls the curtains over your window. The dim light makes you feel soft and selfish, reaching a hand toward him as he turns. He catches your fingers with his own, crouching to meet your eyes. He kisses the tips of your fingers, your knuckles, he looks… regretful. His brows are drawn and his smile doesn’t reach the soft look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” You wonder how many people have heard him say that, something soft and warm settles between your ribs. You pull at his grip, push your cheek against his rough palm. He lets out a pained noise and draws back, “I can’t, Gaz and I-”

“S’okay,” You sigh and close your eyes again, pulling a pillow under your aching head, you’re starting to feel a little more yourself, “I’ll be here.”

“I know,” His fingers brush your hair from your face, “I’ll be back.”

You smile when his fingers don’t leave, tracing your features lightly, reverently, “I know.”

#1fae1 #oc: Witch #fae!Price #fae!Gaz #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #john price x oc #x oc #cod x oc #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x oc #oh sorry did we forget that this is a horror #tw memory loss #tw head trauma #Gaz you are unfamiliar magic and wild magic already doesn't mix well with human magic #Price and Witch's magic has sort of reached an understanding #they're gentle with each other

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eustasskidagenda · 7 months

Text

Eustass Kid x Reader : releasing anger

Resume : Kid is almost always mad at something, but when his anger is about to turn in pure rage, he looks for you to release all his anger with brutal, rough sex. It always soothes his nerves. CW : MDNI, g/n reader, rough sex, size kink, usage of "slut", angry sex, dirty talk, cursing (well, as always with Kid…), penetration (reader receiving), unprotected sex, fluff at the end, let me know if I forgot something

WC : around 1,580 words

The door brutally slams against the wall as Kid enters in your bedroom. Anger is shining, almost glistening in his beautiful amber eyes, his hands are shaking from the rage barely contained. Well. Nothing new. Kid is like a broken glass, and it's impossible to get close to him if you're afraid of getting hurt. He's tough, rude, forged in iron, fire and impulsiveness. And, at the same time, he never really opens up and just explodes when he doesn't know anymore how to keep his emotions in a bottle. He believes that his responsibility as a captain is solely his. At times, this burden is too heavy, even for him. Today marks the end of his bottle-up.

"What's wrong?" you ask, curious to know what just causes his anger, but he doesn't answer. It's likely a random act, a small dissatisfaction, a word. However, the final blow to his weak nerves. "I want you to be naked and on all fours," he grunts, closing the door behind him and already unbuckling his belts. You notice the slight shaking in his movements, as the rage consumes his whole body. You close the book you were reading. "You don't wanna talk about what's happening?" His red hair falls off his forehead after he removes his goggles. "Don't make me wait." He growls with gritted teeth, but you can hear a slight pleading in his voice. No matter how cruel Kid can be with his enemies, he would never do anything without your consent. He desperately needs to slam into you right now, but you know he would never force you. Luckily, today is a good day. And you're kind of horny. So you just shrug. "Fine." You say as he removes his heavy red coat, and then his shirt. The rhythm of his heavy breathing causes his bare, toned chest to rise quickly. Quickly, you take off your clothes. It's not the moment for some teasing, he's already about to explode. When you finally remove your underwear, Kid glances at your naked body, his hard cock pressing against the fabric of his pants. "Ass up, chest down," he barks. You crawl onto the bed and position yourself in the desired position, mentally preparing yourself for what is about to happen. You know that you can handle the roughness of your dear captain. Kid and his large cock are both familiar to you. In a hurry, he pulls his pants and underwear down and climbs onto the bed. "You better hold onto those sheets tight, because I'm going to fucking ruin you." Kid voice is cold, rough and thick with anger and desire. His hard cock twitches in anticipation as he rubs the head against your entrance. "I can take it. Don't hold back," you assure firmly. Roughly, Kid presses your lower back, forcing you to arch your back even more. His calloused fingers are already glued to your hips and ass. And, with one powerful push, he slams into you, filling you up to the brim. Your body feels stretched beyond belief, and you grasp the bedsheets, swearing, and burying your face in the pillow. "Fuck," Kid groans, his hips starting to pump roughly against you. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, along with your moans and Kid's grunts. The way he plows into you is rough, feral, and unkind. Each thrust is filled with pure rage. "Fuck, you're so tight." His hips slam into yours in a rough rhythm as he snarls. Hands glued on your ass, Kid grip is tight, almost painful and you know you'll have bruises tomorrow. He brutally slaps your ass cheeks, probably leaving a red mark on your skin. "Mine", he growls, spanking your ass once more. "That ass is being fucked by me alone". His thickness is so exquisite, it makes you spasm down there. You crave for more. For his rough touch, the way he always leaves hickeys and smeared lipsticks on the nape of your neck. You're his and only his, and you have always shown with pride all the bites he leaves on your body. It's like war paints on yourskin, and Kid loves this view. In all aspects, he is a conqueror, particularly in love.

Each powerful stroke leaves a stinging sensation behind. He's shoving into you with even more force than before, making his pace merciless and almost animalistic. The pleasure is intense, almost overwhelming. In this position, the penetration is just so deep. Your back is arched as Kid's cock hits the deepest good spots of your shivering body. But you know he can be even rougher. "Harder, don't hold back, I can take it" you moan. The pleasure is way too good, you're not even thinking of using your safe word. Kid growls in answer. Without any more words, he begins to thrust into you with a force that makes the air rush out of your lungs. Your body jolts with each powerful stroke, and your screams echo through the room. "You like being fucked rough like that, slut?" He snarls, slapping your ass. Your own pleasure overwhelms you, and tears begin to prick at the corner of your eyes. You grab the bedsheets tightly, almost painfully, arching your back even better. You look so merciless, all sprawled, chest down on the mattress. The bed is loudly creaking and the headboard is slamming against the wall. Kid hands are probably leaving marks on your back and ass from his nails digging in. But you don't care, as long as he keeps fucking you like this.

And luckily, Kid's perfect view of his cock sliding in and out of your core is causing him to become even more lustful and rougher. His flesh hand leaves your ass and grabs your hair, holding onto a fistful, using it to guide his thrusts deeper into you. Your back is suddenly pressed against his chest covered in sweat, as he pulls violently on your hair. He bites your neck, leaving lipstick marks on your smooth skin everywhere. A shiver runs through your body as you feel Kid's hot breath against your ears. His pleasure grunts are nothing more than pure lustful melodies. So low, husky, feral, damn, his voice is always driving you crazy. Under his breath, he whispers your name, shoving his throbbing cock in and out of you, and brutally turning your head to kiss you with the hunger of a predator. At this moment, you can tell how much he loves you. By the way he leaves hickeys all along your neck, by the slight shudder in his voice as he repeats your name, the look he gives to you before pressing your head back against the pillow. Yes, Kid Love is fierce, but real.

The rage in his thrusts slowly fades away when you give yourself to him, replacing it with the same level of roughness, but with a subtle hint of tenderness. He caresses your back, your ass, and firmly gropes your cheeks. "Your ass is absolutely perfect," he praises, spreading your ass cheeks to witness even more how his cock is sliding in and out of your tight body. What a view. You feel his cock throbbing inside you, his ego fuelled by the way your body swallows his member. "You love taking my dick, don't you?" You mewl in response, almost reaching a climax. "You gonna take my cum, right?" You just scream a strangled yes, you just can't talk anymore. Your body almost burns as you brutally reach ecstasy, it's so great, so hot, so deep, and amazing. Your core tightens around the thick cock buried deep inside you, as you cum. Kid let out a low grunt of pure pleasure at the sensation. He cum inside you. Hard. With sloppy and rough thrusts. His seed is both hot and thick, and it fills you up.

You collapse flat on the bed while trying to catch your breath. Kid doesn't pull out, he lies against your back, balancing himself to not completely crush you under his heavy muscles. Proudly, he kisses your neck, runs his finger along your hips, and leaves a bite on your earlobe. His cock is slowly softening within you. He sighs and pulls out, leaving the welcoming warmth of your body. He remains silent at first, just as he always does. His seed is flowing between your thighs. But you're too exhausted to move anyway, your legs and arms are shaking, you're short of breath, and your whole body is sore and bruised from the strong holds of your lover.

He suddenly stands up and exits the room without any words, completely naked. Quickly, he returns with a wet cloth. Leaving a trail of kisses down your spine, he quietly cleans you up. You know he will never say something as soft and nice as 'thank you', but his actions show how thankful he is right now. You've always accepted him, even with all his rage. Sometimes, he just doesn't understand what he has done to deserve someone like you. "There you go. Wait for me. I'll be right back soon." He returns a few minutes later with a glass of water and a slice of the cake that Killer made earlier. You gladly eat it before lying on the bed, your head against Kid chest.

As he runs his finger through your hair, there's no more anger in his touch. He's snoring loudly in less than five minutes, and it's hard not to admire his beauty with that soft expression on his face.

And no one, but you, knows about it.

End talk : please save me, I love Kid soooo much, he's sooooo ugh, I just can't. And I had a lot of fun writing this scenario! As always, I apologize for the potential mistakes or weird sentences. My requests are also open if you want, please check out my pinned post !!

#eustass kid x reader #one piece headcanons #eustass kid #eustass kid headcanons #eustass kid imagine #eustass kid x y/n #eustass kid x you #kidd x reader #one piece smut #eustass captain kidd #eustass kid smut #eustass x reader

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paradubolical · 2 months

Text

it's that time again

here's how to make alcohol at home

recipe under the cut. it's long. I warned you.

FOREWARD:

I do not endorse regular substance abuse or at-home distillation without proper training. Don’t hit your kids. Don’t blow up your house. It’s okay to eat shit and die, like, once every three months, not every two weeks, not every weekend. If you’re doing that, there’s not much I can do to help or give in way of advice. But this recipe is not for you. And you should reconsider some stuff if you haven’t already.

That being said.

The following is my personal method for brewing beer, mead, wine, etc. I have utilized this method many times and it has worked wonderfully. I have achieved up to 15% proof. This means that the substance you create should be perfectly drinkable and safe if you follow the instructions and use your head. HOWEVER. You should be prepared to read this whole document before making anything. There are warnings and safety precautions you need to take, and I don’t want anyone to get botulism of some shit because of a shoddy recipe that doesn’t explain absolutely everything.

I also do not encourage the practice of distillation at home. This is not because it is illegal. For those unaware, distillation is the semi-complicated process of heating alcohol to produce hard liquors. While it may sound fun to make Smirnoff from home, there is a reason we do not. Alcohol is extremely flammable. You will set yourself or your valuables on fire.

Ingredients:

1 Packet ActiveDry Yeast

1 Cup Sugar or 1 Cup Sugar Equivalent*

⅔ Gallon Water

Supplies:

1 Gallon Container

1 Suitable Cork or Lid**

3-4 Ballons, Latex Gloves, or even condoms will do honestly***

IMPORTANT:

You must have a space prepared ahead of time to store the JFCB while it brews. Remember. It will stink like hell. Anyone who smells it will know it’s alcohol. Use your noggin okay

NOTES:

In simple terms, alcohol is created when yeast eats sugar. You can use pretty much anything sugary. Don’t use chocolate unless you want to die.

I like to use those strawberry-flavored grandma hard candies. The stuff they make is super fucking strong and tastes like god himself descended from the heavens to kick your ass. It makes what I like to call the JFCB. It’s high-proof enough to burn your throat. So, you know, try to moderate.

You need something to seal the container with once you’re done. Pick wisely.

***

It’s gotta be something that can form a seal around the lip of the container, but also expand like a balloon. These are some of the things I’ve found work best.

INSTRUCTIONS:

Creating the Base

Take your 1-Gallon Container and fill it with half the packet of ActiveDry yeast. You don’t need all of it. Trust me on this one.

Pour in your 1 Cup Sugar or Equivalent.

Pour in the ⅔ Gallon of Water.

Either whisk or mix vigorously. When it starts foaming, you’re done.

Stage 1

Put the Balloon/Latex/Condom over the lip of the container. Make sure it’s secure and extremely tight, but there’s plenty of room for air to fill.

Find your designated Place to Put It. This should be somewhere nobody’s gonna smell it, and also somewhere nobody’s gonna go for the next three odd months.

Set your shit down.

Wait 2-3 weeks.

Stage 2

After 2-3 weeks, the alcohol should stop emitting gas. At this point, it’s safe to cork. Don’t do it beforehand or the container will explode.

I like to put some hot glue or wax over the lip just to make sure it’s sealed extra well. I sometimes put tinfoil too. It doesn’t actually help anything, just looks fancy.

Find somewhere nice to store it. Make sure it’s right side up. Odds are you sealed it pretty poorly if it’s your first time, and you’re gonna be in deep shit if it starts to smell.

If it does, that means you corked it too early. Move it back to your Place to Put It for like a month. Recork it after that time’s up. It might be difficult, but you’re smart. You can do it. It should be good to go after that.

And there you have it. A nice bottle of…. Something?

Enjoy. Or just leave it to sit.

FAQ:

Q: I’m worried about getting botulism from this shit. Is it really safe?

A: Usually, people don’t get botulism. My rule of thumb is that if it smells like shit you should really just throw it away. If you’re really worried, I’d also recommend throwing it away. The paranoia’s not worth it.

Q: I’m a minor. Should I try this at home?

A: Probably not. I’m a minor too, so fuck’s to say what my opinion’s worth.

Q: I want to try vodka/scotch/whiskey. What should I do?

A: You should just not. Or buy it at the store. I don’t know man i’m not the all-seeing eye

Q: I’ve heard you need an airlock for this. Do you need an airlock for this?

A: Absolutely fucking not. They are feeding you airlock propaganda. You don’t need an airlock.

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madschiavelique · 3 months

Text

⟢﹒𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐡

⟢﹒ summary : your boyfriend’s too pretty for you to sit correctly at your friends’ party, thankfully his fingers are here to help you

⟢﹒ contents warnings : SMUT, afab reader, fingering, overstimulation, semi-public, praise, no use of y/n

⟢﹒ word count : 1,2k

⟢﹒ note : hehe this thought has been lingering in my silly brain for a bit, had exposed it to besties @sunflowersandsapphires and @gracethyomen and chose to write a lil something sooo here we are

"Frank...," a sigh laced with a moan left your lips, "please-"

Your sentence was interrupted as his fingers worked themselves into you to perfection, arching your back as your head rolled back on his shoulder.

Two - that's how many orgasms he'd managed to give you in record time with just the help of his fingers. While one hand was busy satisfying the warmth of your needy cunt, the other grasping the full flesh of your breast freed from your tank top pulled up over your chest, his lips were whispering the sweetest torments.

"I thought that's what you were craving," his lips stretched as his warm breath spread over the skin of your shoulder. "Ain't that what ya wanted sweetheart?" he questioned as he came to place a kiss behind your ear.

The overstimulation was beginning to permeate your whole body, everything tingled you, nearing the painful point. Your hips moved to lift you up so your body didn't feel like it was about to explode, but his hand let go of your nipple to hold you firmly in place by the hip.

Another complaint escaped your lips as your eyebrows tilted back begging for mercy. His nose pressed against your jaw, his low, warm sneer landing on the inflamed skin of your cheek.

"Couldn't even wait for us to be out of here, huh?" his hand moved your hips closer to his lap as a curve of his fingers inside you made you jolt.

Your thighs pressed together as if this gesture would stop Frank from continuing. Your teeth sank into the tender skin of your lip, trying in vain to hold back the sounds Frank was creating from your body.

You were at a party with friends, with enough guests that if you both slipped away no one would be looking for you. Good laughs, chatting about everything and nothing, and just what was shaping up to be an excellent evening.

But it was hard to stay put when your boyfriend was like this: his shirt sleeves rolled up, listening to other people's discussions with his arms folded, a grin on his face as he laughed at a friend's joke.

Every time he turned his back in your direction, you couldn't help watching him, noticing how the fabric of his shirt seemed to clench against his muscles. And the way his broad shoulders shrugged slightly as he answered questions from the guests.

And his fingers, curling around his beer, his digits brushing the mouth of the bottle as his lips placed a thirsty kiss on it.

No, you couldn't have waited, you couldn't have lasted for very long.

"Want me to stop?" he asked as his hand gripped your hip and slid down to your navel, pressing into the hollow.

Lightning flashed through your thighs, making them tremble as your whining became less muffled. He pressed against the spongy spot, making you see stars in a way that was as cruel as it was life-saving.

Your lower belly felt like a hot summer's day, and you struggled to hold on as one of your hands clutched the sheets of the bed you were sitting on and the other gripped Frank's thigh.

Your mind was all fuzzy, and yet wide awake: enough to tell you that you didn't want him to stop.

He was kissing the corner of your jaw, "My baby couldn't wait for me," he whispered, "M'gonna give her what she wants."

His hand moved up your belly, taking hold of one of your tits again and resuming the movements of his fingers within you in a slow, delicious rhythm.

But he stopped for a moment, tilting his head to one side and staring at the door facing you. Lost in the euphoria of your body's sensations and the sudden halt to his movements, you let out a moan, your lips forming in a small pout as you managed to breathe and realign your senses for that brief moment.

Gently, his lips brushed your lobe as he whispered "Gotta be real quiet for me little one, hm?"

It was when the shadow of your thought rose above the bright light of your pleasure for a moment that you realised: someone was close. The panic didn't even have time to grip your guts before Frank's fingers resumed their torment.

You leaned forward as you tried with all the composure you had left to be silent. But his hand on your breast climbed to your shoulder to pull you back against him until your back was against his chest.

"Seen Frank anywhere?"

Your eyes rested on the slit of light just below the door that contrasted with the half-light of the room, fearful of shadows on the other side.

But Frank's lips pulled you back to him as he kissed your neck, exhaling against your skin and letting the wetness of his kisses turn icy hot under his breath.

"Don't know," a second voice replied, "him and his girl haven't been down in a while."

His palm pressed against your clit and you took a jerky breath, Frank's hand immediately coming to rest over your mouth without ever stopping.

You felt yourself getting closer, felt the knot in your stomach tighten as the seconds ticked by, as Frank's fingers continued to build the ecstasy, as you felt yourself losing all control.

"Maybe they went to sleep, both seemed a bit tired."

Your heart pounded in your ears as the voices got closer. Tired wasn't really the term you would've used, pretending was more of the sort. It was important that it didn't look too obvious, that the way you were pulling Frank's hand towards the upstairs rooms didn't give the impression that you were in high school and taking your boyfriend back to your room away from the eyes of your parents.

You bit your cheek, trying to restrict the moans rising from your throat by any means possible, letting your body gently vibrate to his every move like a guitar string vibrating every time it was plucked and its music had to sound at all costs.

And you felt it rising to complete intensity, your back arching wildly but Frank's grip holding you in place as everything shattered. Waves of electricity were crashing in your body like the angriest waves an enraged sea could ever send. Your thighs were shaking so hard you thought that at any moment your body would burst into a thousand pieces of embers.

Your body jolted violently in silence as Frank continued his movements, slowing them down little by little as you were coming down from your high.

"Let them sleep, we'll see them in the morning."

When they were far away enough, Frank removed his hand from your mouth and simply let it slide until it gripped your jaw and turned you towards him softly.

You felt yourself floating, your eyes half-closed as your body slowly came down from its emotions. You still twitched a little as Frank smiled, clearly proud of the state he'd put you in. All dumb-fucked, just from his fingers : he could get drunk on that sight of you.

Then he came and kissed your temple gently, a low chuckle vibrating in his throat, "That's my girl."

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ttoddii · 3 months

Text

on my mind, in my heart

pairing(s): teacher! bada x student! f! reader

cw: fluff, written in bada's pov, a bit of cussing if you squint, bad grammar, lowercase intended.

summary: bada have a certain student on her mind that she can't seem to get rid of.

a/n: i hope you enjoy this. i get a big inspiration for this from the song used to me by luke chiang, it's a great song so i hope you guys could also check it out. also, i am very sorry if this is all over the place.

🌊: hey, don't stay up too late, i'll meet you up tomorrow at the class alright? at 8? take a good rest.

: alright! good night, bada.

i turn off my phone after texting one of my student. my eyes stare at the ceiling and my mind wandering off to a certain girl.

it's an understatement to say that i had been thinking about her, it's not just 'had been', it's rather like she's always on my mind, making her way running around my head, here and there, at every corner of my mind, she's there, smiling warmly at me. and god, her smile is the sweetest i had ever seen.

it was... a weird feeling.

no, not in a bad way. it was actually very comforting. she's my student, a very excellent student indeed, she would arrive earlier than anyone else, leave later than anyone could. and her dancing skill is exceptionally remarkable.

the way she would smile while dancing, the way her brow furrows when it's a hard move, the way she would bite her lip. it's just normal moves that everyone can do, and yet, i fall for that.

i hate to admit it. i really do. but i don't think of her as just a student.

at some point in my mind, i desperately want to tell her that i like her, not in a 'favorite student' kind of way of course. i want to tell her how much i want to take care of her, how i would let her be the only exception in my life, and fuck i'm busy as hell, but if she ask me to do something, i would gladly do it for her.

it's a fact that i would not mind if she take up my time.

to be totally honest, i even want her to be more reliable on me.

i want to be the one who she would think of when she need help, want to be the one who drive her back and forth while i let her choose the music to play in the car.

i want to be the first one she would think of whenever she has an inconvenient, even if it's just a small one.

i want to take up all the space in her mind.

i want to be able to take her out on cute dates, maybe a cute potery workshop where i could stand behind and guide her to make our own cups. or maybe it's just a cozy date at my house where she would cook the most amazing meal and i will hug her from behind, my face would be burry in the crook of her neck as i breath in her cologne.

i don't think i'm sane when i think of my student in that kind of way. but god, i can't stop my heart from skipping a beat whenever i'm with her, no less having physical contact to guide her in class. it got my heart beating all crazy and my mind go fuzzy.

being around her give me warmth.

i groan, my hands go up to rub my eyes. thinking about her make me feel like i'm a loser for bottling up my feelings.

and it's not a good thing too...

the way... i feel that my bottled up feelings just keep on shaking and stirring every time i see her...

it might explode one day....

and with that final thought. i go to sleep, my mind relax as i dream a nice dream, maybe a dream where it has her, because i'm sure i was smiling all the time when i sleep.

when i arrive at the dance studio, once again, there she stand, stretching, her face focusing at herself in the mirror.

"you know, you don't have to always be early. your teacher also get late sometimes too", i said, grabbing her attention away as she turn her head to look at me.

and she smile. the smile that can make my heart flutter.

"bada! you're early today too!", she exclaim, her voice ringing through my ears as i can't help but smile and nod at her. she's indeed a gift to me.

"indeed... also, can i talk to you about something? i need to tell you this, it's important to me." i said, remembering what i think about yesterday.

it's not like i can't keep the feelings to myself, but i really start to feel it kicking in my nerves. i can't live with myself knowing that i might potentially regret not doing something. so since it is a nice opportunity where there is just the two of us. i feel like i should just stir my bottle of emotion a bit more and let it explode in my heart.

i rather take a chance in which it could make me sad, knowing that i might still have a good chance of winning the bet.

"i had been keeping this bottled up for a while", i said, my figure slowly walking closer to her as her smile remain, she look confused, but of course the smile on her face make me feel like everything is okay right now.

i take on of her hand as i hold it tightly in mine, trying to make her feel as comfortable and secure as possible.

she tilt her head, clearly confuse at my words, but she nod lightly to signal for me to continue.

"it had been a while since someone made me feel this way,

i want to be the one you would call when you suddenly wake up at night,

i want to be the one you think of whenever you have an inconvenient,

i want to take you out on dates and show you the best version of me whenever i'm with you,

i want to take care of you.

so let's not complicate this, and i would go straight to the point.

you had been on my mind and in my heart.

will you be my girlfriend?"

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n #bada lee fluff #bada x reader #lee bada #swf2 x reader #⟢ tod's chaos

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creedslove · 3 months

Text

JOEL TAKING CARE OF YOU WHEN YOU HAVE PROBLEMS WITH YOUR MOM 🍓 - HEADCANONS

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: this is so personal it hurts, my relationship with my mother is terrible and today was one of the days she pushed me to the edge and I thought I was going to explode with negative feelings until I broke down and I sobbed. Also, just proving my point that my life problems would decrease by half if I were married to Joel Miller 😢

TW: Shitty mom

• Joel knows damn well the reason why people often tell mean mother-in-law jokes or why their reputation is so bad; and the truth is that it is not even because of the way your mom treats him, but because of how she treats you

• it just infuriates Joel at the same time it breaks his heart to see what she does to you; the way she's so manipulative and mean, the way she acts innocent after saying the worst things a mom could say to a daughter and pretend she didn't really mean that way, or you are overreacting

• and it absolutely shatters his heart to see that even after all the emotional pain she puts you through, he sees how you somehow look for her approval affection, no matter if he has already told you to ignore her, he knows it's deeper than that, it's just the result of a lifetime of emotional damage she's done

• being unable to help you more effectively, he does what he can: he holds you, he soothes you, dries your tears and reminds you you are more than what your mom says, he reminds you he knows you are telling the truth and that you aren't just overreacting, he knows that whenever she says "it wasn't that bad" it was indeed that bad and whenever she insists on saying that whatever traumatic experience she caused you she doesn't remember because it never happened, he is aware it left a deep scar on your mental health

• and even if Joel thinks this is not very effective at all, he has no idea of how precious and important this is to you, because it validates your feelings, it shows you you aren't alone, it shows that you are respected as an adult and overall as a person, it shows you that he loves you, the good kind of love, not the supposed kind of love that burns your mom insists on giving you

• Joel doesn't give a shit if your mom says she has anxiety or whatever other crap she uses as an excuse, no mental problem in the world gives anyone the right to treat another person, let alone a daughter, the way she treats you; it doesn't matter if she wants to pass as mentally unstable, he can see right through it, she is only unstable when it's convenient for her, so that leaves Joel with another adjective for her: cruel

• he knows your relationship with her has ups and downs, sometimes you are able to spend the whole day together shopping or just hanging out and having fun, but there are days she makes a living hell out of your mind

• and even if Joel isn't the most educated guy in psychology, he knew it wasn't healthy to bottle up these feelings like you often did, because sometimes you would explode

• and today was one of those days: something small suddenly became a huge thing and before you knew it, your mom was already screaming at you as if you were a child, making you feel worse and worse and all that rage you had bottled up exploded, because you were so tired of having to walk on eggshells, never knowing if you would have an easy day or if you'd have your mental health ruined again

• so when Joel got home from work, he immediately noticed something was off; you were sniffling and trying to hide your red puffy eyes, you were so sad and you'd completely lost your appetite and the moment he questioned you what had happened - having a pretty good idea of what you were going to say, you simply broke down and sobbed

• and at that moment he didn't think of anything else other than holding you into his arms, his body was so warm and comfortable and you felt relieved to have a grip on him, to feel his muscles, his beard, to smell his scent, everything reminding you of what a loving person really was

"shh it's okay darling, you'll be fine, you don't have to tell me what happened, it's gonna be okay, I'm here and I believe you"

• Joel whispered against your ear and simply didn't move until you broke the hug, seemingly to calm down for a while; and not only that, while you took the relaxing shower he suggested you to, he made you tea, because cooking might not be his strongest suit, but you take such good care of him, he wants to at least pay you back a small portion of it

• even after shower, he can tell the tears are easily going to spill at any minute, so he decides not to talk about it, instead, he suggests watching something to distract you, it doesn't matter to him if it's a movie, a tv show or that low quality soap opera you found on Netflix you swear you only watch it ironically but you got too invested in it, he just wants to see you smile for a bit

• cuddles all the way while you both watch tv, even if you're not paying attention because honestly why does he like to watch cars exploding so much? but the important thing is that you love Joel and you're so thankful for everything he does for you

• and to finally finish a terrible day, you both make love, not fucking, but making love. It's slow, gentle, sexy and intimate. Exactly what you needed, a full dose of Joel to make you feel better ❤️

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

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minnaci · 4 months

Text

POST-SHOW AFTERGLOW

contents: heartsteel!shieda kayn x afab gn!reader (reader's anatomy is described using the words "pussy", "cunt", "clit", and "cervix"), bottom!reader, use of insertive sex toys by reader, kayn walks in on reader masturbating, established relationship, bedsheet banter, fingering, penis-in-vagina sex, cervix mention, light dumbification, creampie, post-coital cockwarming

watching kayn perform live never fails to get you hot and bothered. luckily, kayn is always willing to take responsibility.

or, kayn fucks reader after a heartsteel concert. it's ridiculously good.

there's a wild sort of energy that ebbs and flows around kayn post-show. adrenaline— lightning in a bottle. he's on top of the world. he'd win any fight. he's ready for anything—

his train of thought comes to an abrupt end as he nudges open the door to your bedroom, and immediately, every cell in his body is subsumed by the low-burning embers of arousal.

he is not ready for this.

blankets lay crumpled around your spread legs. you're an angel, every curve caressed by soft light, and your eyes are squeezed shut as you fuck yourself on a thick dildo.

kayn recognizes that toy. it's the one that's the closest to his size and shape. you only use it when you're feeling particularly needy for him, or when you miss him. a soft, tender ache blooms in his chest.

"kayn," you whimper, sugar sweet. you don't seem to have noticed him, lost in your own world of pleasure. "kayn, please, please, i need you, please—"

your voice breaks on a sob, and kayn's mouth goes dry. his fingers curl with the need to take.

"what a nice surprise." kayn's smirk widens into a full, cocky grin when your eyes fly open and you squeak with surprise.

"kayn!" your hands scramble to pull the toy out, and kayn greedily watches as your pretty hole gapes ever so slightly, fluttering around air. another shot of heat, straight to his cock.

"oh, don't stop on my account," kayn says. "i'm just enjoying the show."

your resultant pout creases right between your eyebrows, and he lets loose a laugh, crossing the room in three eager, bounding steps to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. his tongue flickers out, and he licks into your mouth. he loves how you melt in his arms, how you always let him in so easily. you're so perfect for him. he's just about to crawl into bed and show you just how perfect he thinks you are when—

"shower first," you murmur against his lips, as if you hadn't been making a mess of the sheets for hours before he came home.

"but—" kayn knows exactly what you're about to say. he's got "dirty" clothes on, so he can't get on the bed, which is "clean". but can anyone really blame him when you look so tempting, so obscene, that his brain hurts from how hard his cock is?

"kayn—"

"hear me out." he presses a few sweet, pleading kisses to your cheeks, relishing in the way you melt under his easy affection.

"...fine."

"you're so beautiful, baby. look at you all fucked out. do you really expect me to make it a whole shower without jerking off? and if i jerk off, i'll cum, and there won't be anything left in the ol' sacks to fill you with."

you raise an eyebrow, clearly not impressed. damn it. looks like kayn has to bring out the big guns.

"...i'll wash the sheets after we're done," kayn adds. "so they'll be clean again."

"you really want me so bad you'd do laundry for me?" you swoon dramatically— a feat when you're already laying in bed. "is this what it means to be loved?"

"you're a menace," he says. it can't be legal for you to be both cute and devastatingly sexy at the same time. fuck, he loves you so much he swears he'll explode with it. his chest tightens. his fists clench. he can't stand it.

he pounces onto you, heart singing at the elated little yelp you let out as he presses a flurry of kisses to your face.

"i love you," kayn growls, incongruously aggressive for how sweet the words are. his fingers find their way between your thighs, rubbing where you want it the most. he dips inside, just a little, but you tense as if he's shoved all five (and a half!) inches inside of you at once.

"love you— love you too, kayn—"

fuck, he could listen to you saying his name just like that for years, and he'd never go soft.

"relax for me, baby." he stretches you in gentle, practised movements, head spinning as you obey, body going pliant under his covetous hands. you're so perfect for him, already soft and wet from your earlier stint with your toy. your lips find his weak spot— the tender patch of skin right between the junction of his neck and jaw— and he groans, feeling a little insane as you rock back against his fingers, dripping sweet and sticky like warm honey.

"i can't hold back much longer," he says, voice strangled.

"so don't." your breath catches as the tip of his finger brushes against your sweet spot, so he does it again, just to hear you gasp. he could get lost in this, this pleasure of playing your body like the finest of instruments, pulling sound after needy, dripping sound from your pretty mouth.

"kayn— kayn, please, stop teasing, don't hold back, please, i need you—" the sheer desperation in your voice makes kayn's blood sing with pleasure, and he gently removes his fingers from your aching hole, much to your chagrin. you line up the head of his cock with your entrance, shuddering as it pulses a thick glob of pre-cum over your skin. "inside, inside, please—"

there's nothing quite like the initial stretch of kayn's cock as he bullies his way inside of you. he's so thick, and the way he's got you folded makes him feel even bigger. your jaw hangs slack, every nerve trembling with anticipation.

the tip of his cock nudges inside, and you both let out twin moans. your cunt is hungry for it. desperate, even— your gaze goes hazy and unfocused as your pussy sucks softly at his tip.

"so fucking good," he groans. "how are you so fucking good every time?"

if you could speak, you'd say that you could ask him the same thing, but any semblance of coherent speech is knocked from the forefront of your mind as he eases deeper into you. every additional inch of his hot, throbbing cock only serves to make your mind go blank with pleasure. your eyes roll back, flutter shut.

"fuuuck, that's it, baby. feels good, doesn't it?" kayn shudders as he bottoms out. the very tip of his cock kisses a spot deep inside, so sensitive that it sends a thrill up your spine. "there it is— there's that weak spot. yeah, let me use it against you, baby. 'm gonna fuck all that resistance right out of your pretty hole..."

he rolls his hips once, twice, giving a few deep, experimental thrusts. true to his word, his cock massages over your sweet spot. you can't fight the onslaught of sensation, and even if you could, you wouldn't want to. it's so, so good— too good to resist, too good to fight. pleasure melts your brain, turning every coherent thought you might have had to gooey bliss.

your jaw hangs slack. your head spins. pleasure curls around your limbs, pulling you to new heights of mindless need.

"yeah, that's right. this is what you needed, isn't it?"

you don’t have to reply— the answer is written in the slight crossing of your eyes, the subtle trembling of your ribcage, the thin line of saliva that drips from the corner of your mouth. heat builds in your core, spreading like fire across your skin, and you let loose a long moan.

“kayn…” you struggle to make eye contact, lucidity slipping through your fingers with every devastating thrust.

“no thinking,” he says. his thumb finds your clit. the added stimulation makes it all too easy to obey. any semblance of logical thought dissipates into hazy pleasure. you wouldn’t be surprised if your brain was leaking straight out of your dripping cunt.

“no thinking,” you repeat dumbly, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. your fucked-out gaze meets his, and he curses under his breath, cock pulsing inside of you. through it all, he continues rubbing those maddening, mind-melting circles on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

heat envelopes you, swallows you whole and digests you, transforming you into a being of need and pleasure. your nerves sing with molten arousal. every touch, every breath, every heartbeat only sends you spiraling further and further into the depths of debauchery.

“that’s it, baby, let me make you feel good, yeah, yeah—” kayn babbles, his hips stuttering out of rhythm. it makes his cock slide in that much deeper, makes his thumb slip just right against the hood of your clit, and— and—

you fall apart on his cock with a wail, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure. it burns through you, sets the stars ablaze behind your eyelids. your sanity shatters as you all but convulse, gorging yourself on decadent sensation.

thick, creamy warmth floods your insides, and you practically purr at the way the tip of kayn’s cock kisses the sensitive mouth of your cervix. he’s still mumbling mindless praises against the soft skin of your neck even as he fucks you through both of your orgasms. his voice takes on an edge of wretched desperation. “so good, so good, it hurts, baby, hurts good, i— i— fuck…”

he collapses over you, sheathing himself balls-deep with a groan. the last dregs of his cum drool from his tip, dribbling over your sensitive walls. your pussy flutters around him in response, hungry for every last drop of him, and he nearly whimpers at the added sensation. pain and pleasure swirl around you in a heady cocktail of hormones as you come down from your highs together.

when kayn kisses you, it feels right— the natural product of the raw desire that connects you. his lips move against yours sweetly, softly, and he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. the afterglow is made for kissing, for heavy petting, for the cooling of sweat and softening of breaths.

"what was that all about?" kayn murmurs in the hazy quiet, pulling you closer to him. you grumble a bit as his soft cock shifts inside of you, threatening to fall out, and he makes a soothing little noise, ignoring the pricks of painful overstimulation and focusing on keeping you nice and warm and full.

"what was what all about?"

"don't play, baby. what had you so needy tonight?"

"...ah." your face heats up, and you bury your nose in his chest. still, it doesn't muffle your next words. "you looked really, really good on stage tonight. i couldn't stop looking at your stupid bulge through your stupid leather pants."

the honestly is unexpected enough to subvert kayn's knee-jerk instinct to be insufferable and smug. he gapes at you. "you're so fucking cute."

“mhm,” you hum in agreement. “and you’re beautiful. so we match.”

there’s a frazzled sort of silence as kayn short-circuits from the praise. for someone who presents with such an inflated ego, his reaction to genuine compliments is nothing short of charming.

"so... the sheets?" you break the silence, only half-joking.

kayn groans. “i’ll wash them tomorrow. let me enjoy this, baby.”

“i’m holding you to it.” you bury your face in his chest, heart melting a bit as his lips brush over the crown of your head. dirty sheets or not, there’s nowhere else you would rather be than here, limbs tangled with his, soaking in your shared pleasure.

tags: @enchantedforest-network @angelshub

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