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wynnyfryd · 6 months

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Trailer park Steve AU part 10

part 1 | part 9 | ao3

cw: recreational drinking

When they get to Eddie’s trailer, Steve’s mom is sitting on the couch, eyes unblinking as she watches the TV.

There’s just static on the screen.

“Steve?” she slurs when she finally realizes they’re there. Sways a little when she stands. There’s a dreamy quality to her voice, a blank look on her tired face: agreeable but distant, a smudge of campfire smoke curling far over the trees.

Double-dosed her pills again. Jesus Christ.

“Oh, Stevie, baby, it was just awful.” She reaches out for him, and he wishes he could find comfort in the way she cups his elbows with delicate hands. Wishes he could lean into her touch and offer comfort in return, but her tone is so dull and mild that bile rises in his throat. Chemical calm bullshit, and Steve has had enough.

“Ma, just…” he sighs, shrugging her off. Scrubs a hand over his face. Too young and too old for this. “Just go home, okay?” The street is quiet again, all the neighbors tucked back in their houses now that the show has run its course. He doesn’t think anyone will notice her stumbling across the road. “Get some rest. I’ll be over in a bit.”

“Sure, baby.” He leads her to the door, and she turns there on the threshold, eyes glassy and unfocused; looks through him like he’s a ghost. Then her gaze shifts around the room — the hats, the mugs, the clutter; the lived-in explosion of color that Steve’s annoyed he likes so much — like she’s just seeing it all for the first time, and absently, she murmurs, “This place is dreadful, isn’t it?”

“Mom.”

“Hmm?” she asks, but she’s already drifting out the door.

Steve’s face is on fire. He stands there for a moment, just staring dumbly out into the dark. What the hell is wrong with her??

Behind him, Eddie snorts. "Oh, she’s on the good shit, huh?”

Steve whips his head around. Eddie’s eyes are full of mirth, his dimple peeking out, and it startles a laugh out of Steve. He thinks maybe he’d take offense if he weren't so busy being mortified.

But also, like.

It is a little funny.

Or maybe it’s so unfunny that it circles back around.

“Jesus, man,” he huffs, “Sorry. I don’t— I don’t know why she…”

“S’fine,” Eddie says with a casual flick of his wrist. Seems like he means it. He rocks back on his heels, hands in his back pockets, just sort of eyeing Steve up. Assessing. Running his tongue over his lips. They're big, for a guy's. “…You want a beer?”

“Fuck.” That sounds so nice. “Yeah. Please.”

“Have a seat.”

Steve takes the offer when Eddie nods at the couch, too tired to do the whole song and dance of ‘oh heavens no, I couldn’t possibly impose.’ Who’s got the energy for that?

The couch is old. His skull thuds against the un-cushioned back when he sinks down into it, but he’s too tired to care. Worn out as the lumpy springs under his ass, the frayed fabric beneath his arm. A wave of exhaustion rattles his bones, reverberates in his teeth. He thinks he could sleep for sixteen years.

Eddie clears his throat when he comes back with the beers, a sudden cautiousness about him as he hands Steve an unopened can like Steve might claw him in return.

"Sit down," Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm not gonna bite."

Eddie makes a strangled noise. The springs bounce as he plops onto the seat beside Steve, sitting sideways with one leg up on the couch between them, his arm resting on the back. "So, ah...." He gives a wavering chuckle; pulls a lock of hair across his face to hide himself. "Is this the part where I formally apologize for trying to knife you?"

Ugh. No the fuck it isn't. Steve’s too drained for it, absolutely at capacity for more serious shit this evening, thanks; and besides that, it was...

Whatever. It's old news.

Instead of giving a real answer he reaches into his pocket, snicks his own knife open and pretends to brandish it at Eddie, asking, "Eye for an eye?"

Eddie's eyes go huge. "Dude, what the fuck??"

"Just fucking with you," Steve laughs, lifting the can up to his mouth. "But there; now we're even. Shoulda seen your face."

“Ah—!” Eddie’s jaw drops in offense. “Ex-cuse you!”

God, of course he’s more dramatic than all the kids combined.

Steve jabs the knife into his beer, pops the top and starts to chug, throat working as he gulps the whole thing down in four big sips. It tastes like frothy, bitter piss, but it's cold and it soothes the scratch in his throat.

Eddie lets out a low whistle. "Well, goddamn, Harrington."

"Is that supposed to impress me?" "You're not?"

Steve grins and wipes his mouth.

—

They get drunk pretty fast (Eddie refused to be upstaged in his own house, so one shot-gunned beer became two became four), and somewhere along the line the conversations get weird; hilarious and dumb. Saying shit just to say it, chipping away at the ice wall between them with bare fingernails.

Eddie hollers some shit like: "What are you even talking about?" and his arms fling out wide, almost spilling his beer. "The deep sea is so much scarier than the mountains!"

"Are you joking?" Steve throws back. "The mountains have, like, giant cats and shit! Birds of prey with wingspans the size of your van."

"Yeah, and the deep sea has eldritch monsters that live in volcano vents and hunt with no eyes and eat their young for fun or whatever the fuck. You ever heard of an anglerfish? Or a phantom anglerfish? Tell me that shit isn't right out of a Lovecraft story."

"A what story?"

"How am I the one who hasn’t graduated yet?"

Then later:

“Dude, Batman? Seriously?”

“He’s the world’s greatest detective!”

“He’s a greasy little weirdo. You only like him because of your whole…” Steve gestures at his tattoos.

“Whatever, Spiderfan.”

And later still:

"Okay, okay, okay. Fuck, marry, kill... Shit. Y’know this would really be easier in a town where so many people hadn’t died."

Steve grimaces at himself; expects Eddie to call him out. It’s too insensitive, too soon.

Eddie just cracks a grin and suggests, "Fuck, marry, revive?"

—

They talk for a long time. Eddie's kind of charming when he's not being a dick. A nice smile, deep laugh lines. Steve can almost see why the kids are so obsessed with him. He's never met someone so animated; feels like he's talking to a Saturday morning cartoon. The conversation mellows out after a while, and he doesn't realize he's dozed off until Eddie shakes him awake.

"Hey, man," he says, voice just above a whisper. "I'm going to bed. You're welcome to crash on the couch, but, uh,” he scratches the back of his neck, “I mean, your back is probably gonna hate you for it."

Steve rubs his fists against his eyelids and blinks himself awake. Feels jittery and weird, yanked out of the start of a bad dream. When he looks up he sees that he’s got his shoes up on the couch; and there’s dried drool on his chin, and all at once he feels embarrassed, off-balance and panicked like he missed the last step down a steep flight of stairs. Of course he's overstayed his welcome. He's being fucking rude. "My bad," he mutters as he jumps up off the couch. Stands up way too fast, makes his vision tilt and swirl. "I'll get out of your hair."

Eddie reaches for his arm. "Dude,” he says, “you're fine. You can stay if you want.”

Steve moves out of his hold. “Nah, get some sleep; I’ll see ya around.”

Eddie frowns at him, a little furrow between his brows, and somehow Steve feels like he’s in the wrong, like Eddie isn’t the one who just kicked him out.

Like maybe Steve’s just running away for a second time in one night. Always back and away, this guy.

Who's the fucking coward now?

—

part 11

y'all know the drill, tagging whoever commented on yesterday's installment provided your tumblr settings let me <;3 @thealwithnoname @violetsteve @manda-panda-monium @stuftzombie @bronwenmarie @aliea82 @slowandsteddie @acedorerryn @anne-bennett-cosplayer @ahsokatanoss @steveshairspray @hallucinatedjosten @estrellami-1 @ppunkpuppyy @stevesbipanic @silver-snaffles @yourmom-isgay @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @zombiecreatures @im-a-disgrace-to-humanity @faery-god @hotluncheddie @runninriot @a-little-unsteddie @teatimeeverybody @newtstabber @pearynice @hellion-child @cuips-not-cute @steddieas-shegoes @steves-strapcollection @loguine-linguine @griefabyss69

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #tw: alcohol #tw: drinking

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toji-girl · 25 days

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tags: repost + drunk! fem reader + alcohol + age gap + Toji is soft and sweet but also possessive and jealous + you feel him up + he carries you + slightly suggestive + self-ship piece made for everyone to enjoy + lmk any missing tag please!

Three missed calls and one unheard voicemail.

Saturday 2:30 am, September 2nd; Hey…I called you two times, first one rang a few times then went straight to voicemail, and the second call the same thing happened, now this is the third and final time I have attempted to reach out before I come out looking. Where are you? Don’t make me ask again princess.

You stared down at your phone screen with a scoff at your boyfriend’s behavior. Dating an older man is not for the weak or the people who get annoyed easily. It was Friday night and you left his place after staying there all week.

So weren’t you entitled to go out and have some fun? You did ask if he wanted to go but said something along the lines of my back hurts not tonight doll but apparently not enough for him to come out and look for you.

It wasn’t as if you were going out with a bunch of your guy friends, sure there’d be a few but mostly it was just you and your girlfriends wanting a night out, and being twenty-eight it only made sense, right?

You stood in front of the mirror in your best friend’s bedroom flanked by your group of friends. Aya stood behind you and cupped your breasts when you took a picture. “Send that to gramps, he’d lose it.”

Cackles could be heard from your close knit of women who leaned in and made pouty faces taking another one to send to Toji who was currently at his house waiting for you to call him so he can come and pick you up.

It was after the fourth bar everyone decided to stop by Aya’s apartment since it was the closest one at the time and you were beyond tipsy sending him random messages throughout the evening. “He’s not that old.” You shot back.

“Old enough to be your dad! His son is close to our age! Have you thought about a little son vs. dad duo? I wonder who’s better at eating pussy?” She teased and changed into yet another outfit before going back out again.

Your face scrunched up as you threw a balled-up dress at her head. “You’re disgusting, and I can promise you that it’s Toji. That man had me crying last night just from - ”

You stopped mid sentence feeling your face flush, your inebriated brain played the memories of just that; the way he had your legs thrown over his shoulders as he made out with your pussy slowly fingerfucking you until you squirted.

Em who you also haven known since preschool snatched your phone from your hand to open the text thread between you and Toji. “Just from what? Maybe an older dude is the way to go, they can dick you down good.”

She sighed wistfully already like she didn’t have a boyfriend. “Do not look through our messages because you will be disappointed in me, I’m dirty.” You squealed trying to reach for your phone only to get smacked on the hand.

“Oh my god! You sent him a picture of your whole pussy?" She shrieked shoving your phone back in your chest with a loud cackle as the other girls joined in falling on Aya's bed with more laughter.

They all sat up and looked at you like you were their momma bird and they were waiting to be fed. "You are dirty, do you like it when daddy spanks you?" Aya asked in a deep tone trying her best to mock Toji.

You picked up a small plushie and threw it at her head feeling your cheeks flame to a level of uncomfortable warmth. "Stop! You guys are making me want to go back to his house and get fucked dumb and I did yes, he loves it and I love showing it off to him." You huffed.

With everyone ready you and everyone else linked arms and squeezed through the front door of the apartment and down the street not having a single clue that Toji was already two steps behind you, after the first time you didn't answer this was the only way to check on you and make sure nothing was going down.

He couldn't help but click his tongue a little as you swayed and clung to Aya who wasn't much better than you as everyone got shoved through the line and into the doors. It was a split-second decision he made to follow after, one he wouldn't regret one bit.

Toji was sure he would never fall in love again after his first marriage, the idea of his heart being shattered again wasn't something he wanted to go through with which is why he was here at almost three in the morning stalking you making sure you were okay and stayed safe; his pretty little girlfriend who keeps gushing about him.

It wasn't hard not to hear you giggle and talk about how much you love your boyfriend who does everything for you and how could you really not? Thankfully you were drunk enough that you didn't notice him standing in the corner dressed darkly with a hat covering most of his face.

"I think you should just move in with him but then we'd never see you again, what about our weekly date nights? You've been putting it off since you met gramps." Aya pouted as you and her danced close to the edge of the bar keeping your eyes on your friends and drinks.

You glared at Aya and let her tug you closer indulging in one of her favorite love languages. "Stop calling him that. He's barely in his forties and treats me so well, I do love him Aya, I really do." You admitted wishing you were in his arms peppering his face with kisses.

Aya handed you your drink with a shit-eating grin. "I just love teasing you is all, and I know older men are all that and a bag of chips but babe...you have to remember that he is way older than you with a kid younger than us, I think maybe your daddy issues are showing."

"How about you butt out of my relationship." You hissed feeling the fun bubbly feeling of being drunk turn into something else; a hot red rage that took a hold of you like a vice. You stumbled back away from her and broke away from your group of friends for a breath of air.

When you came back inside you still didn't see Toji who now moved after hearing your conversation with Aya and knew you were going to cry about it to him later which he'd happily lap up and soothe away any thoughts that would even begin to push him out of your life.

The booze in your veins pumped along with the blasting music as you nursed another drink while trying your best to pull out your phone to text Toji.

[You - 3:26 am]

srry im drink plz pick me up

Toji who was a mere few feet from you when he felt his phone vibrate which he quickly slid from his pocket to read your message clicking his tongue again as he looked over at you and his heart melted. You looked sad and defeated which is not a good thing paired with the alcohol you drank.

You hunched over the oak bar and sighed when you felt a pair of hands on your upper back, you didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. "What's the matter with my princess?" He asked.

Toji grasped your shoulders and pulled you back a little into his chest, the back of your head rested on his abs as he tilted your head up to look at him, unshed tears swam in your eyes. "How'd you get here so quickly?" You asked slurring your words together with a giggle.

He bent down to press a soft chaste kiss to your forehead before collecting you in his arms letting you hang off his left one almost as if you were a doll, his hand pulled your dress down before patting your ass with a heavy sigh looking for your friends to update them on you.

"I'm taking her back to my place, and I'm sure she will call you in the morning," Toji told your group of friends who only nodded in response watching you hang off of him, your head hung low. "Byeeeee!!" You squealed when he made his way to the exit.

Once he got you both outside he sat you down on your feet holding your upper arms. "Can you walk to the car? It's down the street." He asked immediately getting his answer when you stumbled back again, thankfully you were close enough he was able to wrap one large arm around your waist keeping you upright.

Toji used his strength and sobriety to his advantage to hoist you up again tossing you over his shoulder carefully, one hand rested on your ass to make sure it didn't bunch up. "Mhm! Toji!" You screamed reaching your hands down to squeeze and slap his ass hearing him grunt and huff your name.

"Making sure my princess gets home. Stop." His hand came down with a little force on your backside to catch your attention when you tried to interrupt him with a string of unintelligible noises.

You hung from his shoulder like a lifeless rag doll until he finally made it to his car and unlocked it with the key in his pocket. When he sat you down again your hands reached up to grab his pecs with a grin. "Love you and your big 'ole tits. Wanna bite 'em." You squealed.

He couldn't help but roll his eyes a little at you but still let you get your way as you used the extra height from your high heels to motorboat him with a loud laugh. "Me and my big tits love you too, now get in the car so I can get you into bed." He ordered with a grunt.

Ten minutes later you found yourself settled into Toji's bed watching him as he cleaned your face with a washrag before he took off your fake eyelashes the best he could. "What's the point of these? They look like fuckin' spiders." He said and tucked you in earning a giggle.

Toji never got his answer seeing that you were asleep, your hand curled into his shirt still. His mind wandered about your conversation with Aya earlier and knew that you two would need to have one of your own.

#tw: alcohol #Toji x reader #Toji Fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x you

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ricky-mortis · 2 months

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Some pose practice with my favorite spy

#ignore the bottom one #I had a weird horizontal space on the bottom that I didn’t know how to fill #so that was what I chose to do #I am fully aware I could’ve cropped it out #but it’s too late for that #I love him though #I just realized I’ve been doing a lot of very static poses recently #something I def need to get better at #and thus #practice #agent curt mega #Curt mega #spies are forever #tin can bros #tw: guns #tw: alcohol #tw: banana #my art #:)

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lizleeships · 1 year

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...Sam thinks he's done so well

Inspired by a variety of texts posts by the excellent @spn-lesbian , I also call this one "Cas is surrounded by drunken, winchestrian idiots"

(Don't repost please; reblogging is fine!)

-->If you like my work, consider leaving me a tip or joining my Patreon!

BONUS panel, featuring mega-props to Eileen for holding up a teetering, tanked yeti-man:

#destiel #destiel fanart #destiel comics #destiel crack #tw: alcohol #long post

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k-atsukibakugou · 3 months

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the bathrooms at house parties are really only used for one thing

pairing: katsuki bakugou x f!reader w/c: 4.0k warning/s: fem!reader (has a pussy, wearing makeup + skirt), established relationship, toxic relationship, cheating, alcohol mention (tipsy sex), blood/biting/marking/cutting mention, unprotected sex, degradation/name calling (not really but just in case), hair pulling, fingering (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving)

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

18+ MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

“you know you're a terrible friend, right?” your voice was already broken, growing more and more uneven the more your chest heaved against his, your words nearly silent against the blond’s skin, painted lips planting a kiss on his before travelling down his jaw and neck to the collar of his shirt. your airy voice was just loud enough to be heard over the heavy bass music shaking the wooden door, near deafening on the other side of it, the party in full swing, whooping and cheering, and a near constant clink of beer bottles tapping together breaking through the music occasionally, the celebrations downstairs continuing as if the two of you had never been there at all.

“i am, huh? what about you? abandoning the party you set up, just for a quick fuck?” katsuki was too breathless for his mean tone to carry any of the usual bite, the words only coming across as a hushed, panted attempt at his typical bullying. it made you return an equally breathless giggle at him, pulling back from kissing his neck to stare up into his carmine eyes studying you with half-lidded, smoky eyes; your dark eyeliner smudged around them just the way he liked. leaning back on the sink to rest your back against the small mirror behind you, your eyes sparkled staring into his, mischief and lust swimming around the depths of your pupils. he couldn’t wait to have them rolling into the back of your head, exactly like they did every time you met like this, rushing, locked in cramped, darkened rooms whenever you both had a free moment, not a second thought for the time or place, only thinking of feeling one another.

even here, your game of kings cup and bursts of dancing cut short when your eyes met his ruby red ones across the hall the moment he walked through the door, only breaking the intense contact to answer a heavy tap on your shoulder; the birthday boy tilting your chin up for your punishment drink, the cup half full of random splashes of everyone's alcohol; your’s and eijiro’s hard lemonade, ochako’s gin and tonic, momo’s prosecco and jirou’s fruity vodka, and you thought you could taste juuuust taste the beer denki dug out too. eijiro flashed his sharp white teeth down at you in a lopsided grin when you dipped your head back further and opened your mouth, your eyes locked up into his scarlet ones as you tried your hardest not to choke on the gross mixture of the drinks, cheering with high fives, whistling and whooping with everyone when you swallowed it with a sour face, missing the way katsuki’s scarlet eyes tracked a stray droplet of the liquid down your jaw, to your neck, to your chest before it disappeared into your neckline.

while you were celebrating, receiving a boyish slap on the back from hanta, katsuki was still surveying you, only pulled from his focus on you by his friends shoving him in greeting, dragging the fashionably late blond into the kitchen, denki passing him a can while mina handed him a fresh cup, pressuring him to catch up before you could even get in a greeting. katsuki had already downed half the cup by the time the redhead let go of your jaw to greet his final friend to arrive. you wiped your chin, catching any last stray drops from the foul drink with your finger, sucking into your mouth, your heart jumping to your throat catching his gaze once more, cherry red eyes locking to your lips over the rim of the plastic cup, stormy pupils glued to your dark lips wrapped around your finger.

not even an hour after he showed up, here you were: your skirt hiked up around your hips and your hair mussed while your heartbeat thrummed under the skin of your throat against his soft lips, the centre of them stained red from whatever he was drinking before pulling you in here, the empty cup abandoned on the edge of your sink beside your own, both of you preoccupied with exploring hands under shirts, lips and teeth clashing, both of you trying to take everything you needed from each other; desperate to feel his hot skin against yours already, one kiss from him already getting your breath hitching in the back of your throat, your blood burning hot with need.

“oh please, you know that is nowhere near what you’re doing, this has to be some kind of record, you couldn’t even wait, what? a week?” you teased, catching the way his eyes flashed a shade darker in the mirror ahead of you when he spun you around, a threatening squeeze of his rounded fingernails into the fat of your hips and the sharp point of his canines serving as a warning to shut your mouth before he’d do it for you. you were right, he knew it, but he also knew you weren’t much better, maybe even worse, parading around in the shortest skirt he knew you owned; he could picture you clear as day digging through all of them for this one, picking it for the way it hugged your figure, for the ease katsuki would hike it high on your hips to leave your thighs on display, so little of the fabric covering you he hardly even needed to tug at it to admire the curve of your ass. biting your lip, you submitted to his threats, not having the time you typically would to play with him, to mock his obsession with you, your addiction to each other, instead settling in more against the sink, pushing your ass back against him, “you got a condom, ‘ki?

“i’ll pull out,” his warm breath and soft lips on the side your neck reminded you of every time you’d ended up exactly like this, katsuki always determined to kiss you anywhere he could reach in the time you had, but never leaving any evidence, the same couldn’t be said for your lipstick marring his jaw, clearly this rule was being thrown to the wind tonight, dull fingertips digging into your clothed tits as his teeth latched onto your neck, finally laying his claim on your skin after nearly a year of this, letting his fingertips leave ten cute bruises on your skin beneath his hands, ignoring the way you tried to push him away from you (with next to no effort, not really wanting him to stop), whispering sternly to him, “oi.”

“shut up, no one out there is sober enough to notice.” his lips didn’t move far from the side of your throat while he gruffly responded in your ear, sliding your shirt up your stomach to expose your tits to him, hot fingertips toying with your hard nipples as his mouth moved, stormy garnet eyes watching you shiver at his unusually bold behaviour before he moved back up toward your face, nipping hard beneath your ear to force a gasp from you, “‘n i know you need it, sweetheart, need it rougher than what he gives you, i could cut you and you’d thank me. or don’t you remember when you were on your back, voice all high, beggin’ me to fuck you like a bitch in heat? use me, katsuki, that sound familiar?”

you flushed hot hearing him mock your high-pitched moaning, your mouth snapping shut, not wanting to admit you thought of it constantly, replaying his growls and deep groans in your mind when you needed to cum. when you stayed quiet, not admitting anything, he continued, one thick hand travelling up your bare navel to your chest to settle at your neck, holding your jaw like the redhead had earlier, keeping your face forward for him to stare down in the mirror, “next time you tease me like that, you’ll have handprints to try n’ explain to him.”

it wasn’t so much a threat, as it was a promise, no venom coating the words, only desperation underlying his arrogance, damn near begging you to give him a reason to make you his. you melted more into his touch hearing his voice dropping at the mention of his handprints littering your skin, giving up trying to dissect his tone, instead just revelling in his rough, impatient hands roaming your body, slipping between your thighs to stroke the slippery, sensitive skin there, the very tips of his fingers tugging at the tiny amount of fabric there. katsuki’s frenzied touches to your pussy sent electricity through your nerves, the feel of his warm hands on your more addicting than any other date could ever hope to be, his eyes far more captivating, always keeping your gaze locked on his in the mirror, your eyelashes fluttering to break the intense contact the moment his fingers sunk into your dripping cunt with a low groan.

“see, baby? you still need me, you always will.” you were too distracted to respond, to try and argue despite how wet you got looking at him, focusing on keeping your sounds of pleasure as soft as you could, making sure the music remained the most prominent sound in the house. katsuki had already let go of your face, but hypnotised by his sculpted form, you kept staring forward at his reflection, his free hand now pressing on the small of your back to keep you arched in front of him, keeping your needy cunt on display (katsuki addicted to how your body reacted to him, it didn’t tease or mock him, it never lied about how much it needed him). your pussy was the star of the show, evident by the way he toyed with you; plunging and curling his fingers deep inside you until you keened, only pulling them back to rub your clit, taking his time to warm you up, hardly needing to when you fucked him only five days ago in an unused supply closet, shelves covered in a thin layer of dust disturbed only by his handprints and your ass.

you got lost staring at him, your heart racing anytime his strong hands were on you, thinking about what he was saying with his hand around your neck; he was right of course, katsuki had always been the only one to satiate you, to scratch the itch deep inside you that no nice guy you’ve ever dated would be able to, the kind of itch only he could relieve, a frenzied fuck that had you both out and done in under thirty minutes, half of that time spent toying with each other, instead of making love for hours into the night. his thick fingers, sharp teeth, venomous words and stormy glare doing more to you than all the others before him combined, locking knowing eyes with him across a room getting you closer to cumming than some of their cocks.

“quit thinkin’ so loud.”

his words brought you back down to earth, back to focusing entirely on his body heat on your skin, one of his hands squeezing your hip so tight you were worried he’d keep his promise and leave a dark mark on your skin for days to come. attentive eyes were locked on your reflection, he waited until your mouth dropped open to spit back some bratty retort at him, certain it would’ve been dripping with attitude if he didn’t sink himself into you, cutting you off; barking out a laugh at the way your eyebrows furrowed and you immediately bit down on your bottom lip to stay quiet, he thought you looked like your eyes were about to cross like some lewd manga kaminari and sero would froth over. not even giving you a moment to adjust to him, not like you really needed it with how effortlessly he got you wet, katsuki started fucking you urgently, his hips slamming into your ass over and over again, almost as if he was suddenly aware of the time constraint you were on, someone sure to notice the pair of you missing soon enough.

hard porcelain dug into your hips, your hands gripping the edge of the sink doing little to hold your body up against the strength of katsuki’s hips pumping behind you, no concern for the way he kept pushing you forward, your head nearly bumping the mirror if not for him gripping the hair at the back of your head.

“nothin’ to say now, huh, baby? you know i’m right, he doesn’t fucking compare to how i fuck you, or you wouldn’t keep crawlin’ back.”

katsuki’s arrogance was well-deserved, even if you wouldn’t say it aloud, the barely-there brush of his calloused fingertips over your clit had you hissing, your hips bucking into his touch, demanding more. he’ll give it to you, finally giving up the cat and mouse once he was satisfied with how you sought after him, circling two fingers around your swollen clit, lust-filled eyes flashing at the surprised moan that escaped you, your palm not fast enough to cover your mouth to muffle it. your shining eyes rolled at his cockiness, now stuck back in your skull at his ministrations, drawing you closer and closer to your end while you desperately nodded your head as much as you could in his grip at his words rather than squealing out a “yes, yes, yes katsuki!” like you wanted to.

katsuki kept a tight hold on your hair, his grip close to your skull, keeping your head up while the rest of your body slumped over the sink, your chest nearly touching the mirror with how deep your back arched, only getting deeper the more you slid against the slippery porcelain of the sink. your body was entirely supported by his hand, and the sink at your hips, your arms and legs weaker and weaker the longer he fucked you, the fat of your ass rippling with every slap of his hips against them, every thrust back inside you forcing another gasp and whine from your throat, muffled as much as you could with your hand, “you’re really about to cum?”

his voice was back to being mean, low and mocking, nearly black eyes watching your face contort with his words, his rough tone like a lightning strike straight to your cunt, your muscle squeezing around his cock enough to have him following you soon after. you couldn’t even nod if you tried, the only motor skills your brain was concerned with being your hand, buried under your skirt, circling your swollen clit until you were trembling, thighs tense and your knees shaky. still with a vice-like hold over your mouth, your eyebrows furrowed in the centre, your eyes squeezing shut, your tits bouncing against the mirror.

usually he’d be watching your face in the reflection, or the way your tits were spilling out more and more with every rut of his hips, instead, his eyes were glued to the way your cunt and thighs glistened in the dim yellow-y tinted light, admiring the white ring of your cream around his cock. the sight of your cunt so wrecked had his hips stuttering in your beating cunt, having only just enough composure left to pull out of your heavenly pussy, leaving you shaking and slumped over the sink without his strength to hold you upright.

your body felt like unset jelly, your head swimming with pleasure, your body still recovering from waves of aftershocks that had you whimpering when he was muttering to you again, pulling you off the sink with strong hands, “c’mere, baby.”

delirious, you blindly let him guide you to your knees in front of him, his leaking, hard cock level with your glassy eyes, wide and cockdrunk staring up into his. without another thought, you sat up straighter on your knees, reaching a hand out to stroke his cock, wet with your cum, your eyes flicking down when you licked your lips before staring back up at him through your eyelashes, parting your glossy lips to take him eagerly into your mouth, any remaining lipstick you might’ve had after kissing him now smearing down his cock.

“shit,” he hissed when you sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth, your tongue swirling slowly with your hand wrapping around the rest of his hard length, slowly taking in more of him until your lips met your hand, whimpering around him at the taste of yourself on his skin. his hand shot to the edge of the sink when his head bumped the back of your throat, gripping the edge warmed by your skin until his knuckles were turning white. his head fell back to stare at the ceiling with bitten lips, sure if he kept looking down at your pretty face he’d cum down your throat far too fast, garnet eyes flicking down to you when you whined around him, eyebrows squeezed together, your tongue gliding over his skin clouding his mind. katsuki swore again under his breath, squeezing the sink impossibly harder, grounding himself when he pulled out of your mouth, the soft pop sound drowning out your sound of disapproval.

“stick your tongue out.” you obeyed his gruff demand, at the stage of your encounter where you were too dumb to argue anymore, your games at the very back of your mind, resigned to listening, obeying. katsuki’s eyes looked darker, menacing to the untrained eye, but you knew the black was swimming with pleasure, your kneeling form reflected in his endless pupils. his eyelashes cast shadows over his face, kissing the tops of his cheeks, the light hitting the tops of your cheekbones when you tilted your head up toward him, your mouth falling open in front of him while he jerked his wrist over his length; only thrice more until his cum was spilling from the tip to your eagerly awaiting tongue. your lips shined under the light, saliva, your own cum, and now his reflecting under the downlight; your eyes shining with something else katsuki could’t place, the sparkle swiftly replaced with your usual fucked out expression, your mouth closing around the tip of his cock, your tongue flicking over the head to savour the last of his salty taste.

about to take him further into your mouth, desperate to make him shake like he always did when you pressed your tongue to the vein running along his cock– your eyes go wide staring up at him, a gentle, irregular knock echoing in the small room, your heartbeat spiking at the dull sound, jumping away from the blond at the noise, like a child caught in the cookie jar. you sobered up immediately at the noise, your mind suddenly clear and your blood cold, your body lost in anxiety instead of the intoxicating air surrounding katsuki.

katsuki returns a fist of his own on the wall, a louder slam of his hand on the wall than the soft rap of knuckles on the door, yanking his pants back up his hips with his other hand, belt between his fingers when you scramble to your feet, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, “occupied, fuck off.”

whoever interrupted you was sent stumbling down the hallway at his brash response, searching for another bathroom while you both tried to recover from the sudden adrenaline surge, katsuki sliding his belt back into place while you sucked in a deep breath, letting it out in a soft laugh before turning around to face the mirror. the silver surface reflecting back your smeared makeup, looking just as debauched as you felt. with another slow, deep breath, you wiped a thumb under your plump bottom lip to clean any remnants of lipstick, cleaning yourself up as best as you could, trying to ignore katsuki shifting from foot to foot behind you while you tugged your skirt, straightening it against your thighs, trying your best to not to look like you were just fucked stupid in the upstairs bathroom of eijiro’s birthday party. katsuki looked perfectly dishevelled, his hair spiked around his head like usual, his belt done back up loosely around his hips, the accessory serving no real purpose other than to watch the way your mouth watered when he tugged it free from the loops. shaking your head, you dropped the thought of his thick fingers around the leather, instead leaning closer to the mirror when you smacked your lips together, your thoughts of him interrupted by katsuki's gravelly voice, “you should head down first.”

your gaze flicked back over to his, he looked as if nothing had changed between his arrival and now, minus his stained, swollen lips, the same couldn’t be said about you, reaching under the sink to search for your lipstick, hoping the cute tone could save you. rubbing the colour onto your lips with your ring finger, you admired the same colour still on katsuki’s jaw, running your fingers over your hair when you were satisfied, you hummed in agreement, “yeah, i’ll go get the cake ready, you’ll come down in two?”

you did a quick twirl, waiting for his approval on your state, his eyes raking over you to make sure your skirt was over your ass, your shirt back in place, and your face clean of lipstick, spit and cum.

“i look alright?”“wouldn’t fuck you if you didn’t, sweetheart.” you rolled your eyes at his teasing, like a switch for his cockiness was flicked back to on, a proud smirk painted on his face, carmine eyes already feeling like he was trying to see through your clothes to the skin beneath, a signature expression around you. he doesn’t move when you shove his shoulder, your uneven movements barely even disturbing a hair on his head when you stumble past him to exit the cramped bathroom, alcohol and adrenaline swimming in your veins making each step downstairs wobbly.

with a lasting stare down at you, mostly watching the way your hips move from side to side, vermillion eyes locked onto a single wet spot on your skirt, the patch easily explained away if anyone could see straight enough to ask you about it, he could already hear your sweet voice now excusing it, “the sink splashed back at me!”, or “ugh, i knocked my drink over when i was fixing my lipstick.”, sure your friends would believe either excuse without a second thought before realising the truth of the spot. katsuki only turns back around to face the mirror when he can’t see you anymore, roughly rubbing at the blooms of colour on the underside of his jaw. he does little more than smudge the pigment around, the colour now covering his fingers and in patchy lines than in the clean kiss marks they were when you’d first locked the door. satisfied he was as clean as he was going to get it, he turned back around, swinging open the door to follow you out.

hearing your laughter in the living room, katsuki makes his way down, sauntering down the stairs far slower than you had, turning left at the end where you swivelled right, circling around to the kitchen from behind, second nature to him at this point to cover his tracks without even needing to think about it. rounding the corner into the kitchen, katsuki’s eyes found you again, drawn to you, a need panging deep in his stomach watching your skirt swish around your thighs as you twirled around in the kitchen, spinning a final time to walk a cake over to eijiro, his name messily written in red icing underneath too many burning candles. you placed it at the head of the table, gently setting it down in front of him, the birthday boy drunk and oblivious to where you and his best friend had disappeared to for the last twenty minutes, even more oblivious to the evidence still on your skirt and low on your throat when he smiled sweetly up at you.

“happy birthday, baby, make a wish!” you plant a kiss on your boyfriends cheek, transferring your fresh lipstick in a perfect kiss stain, identical to the ones katsuki just finished ruining, eijiro slurring back his affection with a bright, lovestruck smile, “i’ve got everythin’ i need with you, baby.”

© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost or recommend my work on other platforms or translate my works, i do not give permission for my works to be bound and sold. 18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact.

#dividers by me #k-atsukibakugou #tw: alcohol #tw: cheating #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #「kat <3」#「mercury writes」

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allelitewrestlings · 7 days

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#adam page #hangman page #hangman adam page #wrestlingedit #aewedit #pre aew #premiere wrestling xperience #ours: gifs #maker: s #*#event: pwx battlefield x #tw: alcohol

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konigsblog · 5 months

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cw: drug use (weed)

soap who enjoys a blowjob a little too much... 🍃

the pair of you, drunk and high with your eyes pink and halfway closed while you practically swallow his hard cock greedily. johnny's thick tip weeps into your mouth, coating your pink, warm tongue in a thick layer of his bitter seed while you continue bobbing your head on his veiny dick, popping off with a loud ‘pop’.

the room is filled with smoke while he takes hits from a bong, gasping and throwing his head back. sweating, his white shirt becomes transparent and sticks to his muscular, scarred body. one large hand loosely guiding your head up and down, a white sticky ring around his fat girth.

it's so messy and sloppy -- but he can't break eye contact from those pretty glistening eyes, not from his pretty girlfriend. so eager to please him, sucking down on his throbbing, hard size! “god’!, bonnie..--” he starts before his breath hitches in his throat, choking on his words and bucking into your mouth needily and suddenly when you fondle his balls tauntingly.

“feels...s..so good, god--” he chokes, gasping at the little kitten licks on his sensitive tip. he stinks of marijuana and vodka, the strong smell of weed and alcohol assaulting your nostrils, all while you drunkenly suck him off. you're just as needy as eachother, he's too desperate for relief that he doesn't even notice how you rub back and forth against his boot, coating him in your slick and sweet cum with twitching thighs.

definitely came all over your tits, then fucked them like the disgusting, drunk, high mess he is.

#orla speaks #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap cod #tw: weed #tw: alcohol #call of duty modern warfare #cod smut #cod #call of duty #cod x reader

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attapullman · 2 months

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The Perfect Pink | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: While bartending for Rolling Acres Retirement's Valentine's Party, you encounter a pink-cheeked man and his cherry-loving cousins.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: all fluff with alcohol mentions

A Note From Mo: Here is my Pink Lady fic for @thedroneranger's Pick Your Poison event to go with this gorg moodboard! As a part-time mixologist and full-time Bob Floyd lover, this was such a fun concept to play around with and has inspired me to come up with more pink drinks. I've never been a Valentine's girly, but I fully believe this pink-cheeked WSO could convince me otherwise. To everyone who reads this, I love you bunches and bunches, all 365 days in the year!

It’s so pink. Horrendously. Abysmally. Pepto-bismally. PINK.

When you agreed to tend the bar in a pinch, a few bundles of carnations and candy pink paper hearts were your guess for the evening’s decorations. But when you showed up to Rolling Acres Retirement's Valentine’s Party holding a crate of soda water and a handful of shakers, your senses flatlined with the amount of pink covering every surface.

Petal pink tablecloths straightened over round tables; a small bouquet of magenta carnations attached to each folding chair and incensing the recreation hall of the retirement home. Heart-covered paper plates and folded napkins set up at each place setting, glittering confetti sprinkled around the tableware. The ceiling isn’t even a reprieve, a rainbow of fuchsia and rose and flamingo and blush balloons filling up every available inch of space.

Suzette on the front desk had complimented your dusky pink sweater - an appropriate choice for the holiday - but set against this backdrop you feel like another decoration. An oversized bauble that also makes cocktails and pours cheap wine.

And now, standing behind this makeshift card-table-turned-bar covered in bubblegum crepe paper, your brain might explode in a cloud of hot pink smoke. Counting out pours and trying not to slice yourself making garnishes is a struggle keeping up with all these orders. While the average age of the party goer may be eighty, they drink more than the 21st birthday bash you bartended last weekend. You’ve been here all of an hour and Mrs. Moscovitz has already downed three fuschia cosmopolitans.

While disappointed you don’t have more romantic Valentine’s Day plans - though, when have you ever had a date on this too pink day? - it’s fun to see who’s turned up to celebrate. White-haired couples are swaying on the makeshift dance floor, every shade of pink and red in their attire. Bridge groups and knitting circles are excitedly chatting at their respective tables, gossiping over who is in attendance and with whom. Even the staff have wide grins splitting their faces, enjoying the festivities that break up the bleak winter. It’s the least you can do to spend the holiday providing beverages for this crowd.

The best part is the families. While romantic love is thick in the air, so is platonic love. Family members of all ages have come out to spend the holiday with the residents. Mr. Gordon’s daughter and her family have driven hours to catch up over pot roast and sparkling cider while his grandson plays trucks over a pile of chocolates he snuck from Suzette.

Orders have slowed down and your eyes keep glancing over to Ms. Floyd’s table. The entire clan has showed up for dinner, dancing, and to take home a batch of her homemade snickerdoodles. Multiple relatives are taking up two entire heart-sprinkled tables. Your focus is mainly on the second table for too far from you, where the grandkids have been relegated to play cards and swap candy hearts to pass the time.

“Why don’t you go ask the pink lady for more cherries.” God, he’s cute. The only guy in this place near your age and his attention is stolen by a pair of toddler girls obsessed with the cherries in their Shirley temples.

You divert your eyes quickly when you realize he’s talking about you and your pink sweater. The girls giggle shyly, the high pitched squeals of glee as they convince him to go up instead. Fiddling with shakers, wiping down the counter, you try to stay busy as you physically feel him approach the converted bar and your trembling hands.

“Hi!” His smile is thin and nervous and his cheeks are pink, blushing from his little cousins and their antics. Also because you’re much prettier up close and he’s wearing a shirt he’d never normally be caught in if his grandma hadn’t picked it out.

He’s much cuter at this distance as well. Sandy hair combed neatly, one small strand slipping out behind his ear. Friendly cerulean eyes framed by golden wire spectacles, similar to the ones several of the ex-military men at Rolling Acres are sporting. His thin lips falter slightly as he takes in how well the pink of your sweater compliments your skin. God, he wishes he wasn’t wearing this shirt.

You spring into service mode and grab a fresh cocktail shaker. “What can I do you for?”

“I’m technically up here for some cherries.” You dutifully nod, hoping to hide the fact you’ve been watching him converse with the toddler girls in their matching baby pink dresses most of the night. You make a small dish of cherries up and push it toward him, shaking your head when he attempts to pay. “The thirty-eight cents of cherries is a small expense for a night those two will talk about for weeks. They’re on the house.”

He grabs the dish with a smile, but realizes he now has no excuse to stay by the bar. And while he loves his cousins, he’s on leave for a few more weeks and you’re really pretty. A few extra minutes wouldn’t hurt. He extends his hand with a timid smile. “I’m Bob.”

You reach out and shake his hand back as you introduce yourself, hoping the condensation coating your fingers isn’t too noticeable. He immediately commits your name to memory, happy to replace “The Pink Lady” with a name as fitting to you as yours.

He moves out of the way as a woman in a magenta scarf orders a round for her bingo group. Bob watches as you whir into action, pouring liquors and counting off ounces. The delicate way you garnish each drink so the owner feels special. Your gracious smile when a tip is stuffed into the heart-shaped velvet box provided to you for tips.

When the line at the bar dies down, he sidles back up to your makeshift station. Bob notices the way you eye the decorations warily, still adjusting to the deafening pink of it all. He drums lightly on the blushing pink tablecloth, catching your wide-eyed attention. “Everything all right?”

“Uh, this place is too…pink?” you laugh, gesturing to the overabundance of rosy hues surrounding you. For possibly the first time all night, Bob realizes that while you were the only pink thing that had his attention, it is suffocating in the recreation hall.

“Yes, yes it is,” he chuckles right back, eyes soaking in the offending decorations. There’s a comfortable air between the two of you, and he decides to push his luck for more time with The Pink Lady.

Bob clears his throat, pulse thrumming through his body. Tonight is his one and only chance to land a date with the pretty bartender.

“So, to go with the theme, what is the pinkest drink you can make me?” He wiggles his eyebrows, his best attempt at flirting. A hint of a giggle escapes as you purse your lips, contemplating his challenge.

“I can make you a pink lady.”

He narrows his eyes. “Is that a real drink, or have you named it after yourself?”

“It’s real, I promise.” You’re all smiles at his attention as you combine the gin, applejack, and grenadine with a splash of lemon juice. He really could watch you work for hours.

As you reach for the last ingredient, his eyes bug out. “Is that an egg?” He’s a Navy man, his normal bar only has cocktails with two ingredients. Since when did eggs go in cocktails?

“When you dry shake an egg white it creates this nice foam, adds to the drink.” While he wants to come across as open-minded and cultured, he’s hesitant. “If you don’t like it, I’ll make you something else.”

He’s bewitched as you pour the perfectly pink drink into a plastic coup, the creamy white foam rising to top it off. A cherry balances the rim, one that won’t be stolen by his mischievous cousins. As he looks between the freshly poured drink and you, he swears your cheeks are the same happy pink.

You push the drink toward him, excited to share something new with a customer. Always a gamble as a bartender, but worth it when you expand someone’s palate. He gives you a tentative smile, unsure if he’s going to like it, but he really wants to impress you. In return, you give him an encouraging nod, completely unsure of how this will go. He takes a sip, the frothy mixture coating his tongue.

As far as he’s concerned, the drink is named after you. Not too sweet, not too tart, a divinely balanced combination of flavors in a perfect pink concoction. Bob is convinced you would taste just as good, especially with a cherry. The thought makes his brain blank.

“Do you like it?” Your hopeful eyes are endearing. He wants to brush the strand of hair from your cheek and assure you that he likes it, that he’d like anything you made him because you made it. But you’re practically strangers so he stumbles over his words as he promises it’s delicious.

The bowl of cherries for his cousins still in his hand, Bob stands to the side of the bar and sips his tartly sweet drink, casually keeping up conversation with you as you serve other patrons. You’re glad for the company, enjoying the way he asks about your technique and mutters out the few things he knows about wine from conversations with his aunt. Despite the fact you’re working, it’s the best Valentine’s Day you’ve had in years with this bespectacled man watching you tend bar.

He’s just so cute, blushing his own special pink hue when your eyes connect while you shake up a few martinis.

“Uncle Bob!” There is no mistaking who is calling him over. Two identical heads pouting as they motion him over. His time with you is up. He gives you a sweet smile, trying to memorize every inch of your face, before motioning his hand filled with cherries in their direction. You bittersweetly grin right back, smile lingering as you start on Mr. Nickerson’s two merlots as you watch his broad shoulders walk away.

Oh, how you wish he would come back.

Because it’s a retirement home and not a frat house, by ten the party is wrapping up. You’ve exchanged shy glances with Bob a handful of times, but his family has taken up most of his attention with Navy questions and inquiring when he’s going to visit next. He barely registers the event is over before he’s rummaging through his mom’s handbag with his last attempt at salvaging the night.

You’re cleaning up your supplies when the Floyd clan walks past, all waving good night to you and the staff, thanking you all for a great Valentine’s night. The girls thank you for their cherries, a stem hanging from one’s lip.

Staggering at the end of the crowd is Bob, his cheeks flushed and palms tingling. He stands in front of your table, rocking on his heels, working up his courage. You give him a warm smile, thanking him for his company, and he completely melts. As he holds up his occupied hand, he hopes this works.

“Forgot to slip this in earlier.” His smile is tense as he jams a few dollars through the absurdly small hole in your improvised tip box. You thank him before both blurting out awkward goodbyes. As he catches up with his family, a pang rings through your chest. Disappointed he’s gone, never to be seen again.

Bob Floyd, a Valentine’s mirage you will remember fondly.

Once all your things are packed, you square things up with Suzette with your pay for the event and a promise to stop by to visit the residents later in the month. You schlep everything to the car, a mixture of emotions painting your face in the rearview mirror as you make your way back home. The weight of defeat keeping you from bringing anything inside except for that damn tip box you’re hoping will cover groceries for the week.

You pry open the velvet lid and are met with the best surprise.

There, at the bottom of your substitute tip jar, underneath all the singles the elderly stiffed you with, was a scrap of cheap rosy pink napkin. You unfurl it to see neat chicken scratch handwriting, the pen poking through the fabric in spots as he worked to write out his message with a phone number beneath.

I’m here until the 27th. Drinks on me? - Bob

Now that you think about it, maybe you do like pink.

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