#I’ll start by smudging my eyeliner

[its-spooky-bitch]

I want to embrace my goth/alternative side more!

[tiannasfanfic]

Physical Affection

Eddie Munson x Reader (Fluff)

Summary: You aren’t a very physically affectionate person…until you are.

A/N: Gender neutral Reader, they/them pronouns used, no Y/N. Not proofread.

CW: None, just pure fluff.

You weren’t an affectionate person.

Well, that’s unfair to say. You could be, just on your own terms. All of your friends knew this and none of them minded, but those times when you were randomly affectionate, it always caught them off guard.

If you ruffle Dustin’s hair, for instance, it’ll suddenly make the otherwise chatty boy speechless. Fixing Steve’s shirt by tucking in the tag for him made the former ladies man blush. That time you helped Robin fix her smudged eyeliner left the poor girl stuttering.

While everyone noticed you were a little more affectionate with Eddie, that was to be expected since he was your partner. But, despite that, they couldn’t help but wonder how things were going with you two. By all appearances, everything seemed fine, but they knew Eddie was typically way more affectionate in relationships than this. He was always all over his partners, no matter if they were one night flings or serious relationships. But with you, he had scaled way back. The only time they’d ever seen you two be affectionate for longer than a brief moment were at parties when Eddie would keep one arm around you protectively at all times. You never seemed to mind though, leaning into his embrace to wedge yourself even closer to him.

It wasn’t until one night at The Hideout that they started figuring out you might be way more physically affectionate than they thought.

The guys were out having a Boys Night when you came rushing into the bar and directly over to their table. Everyone was concerned since Boys Night never gets interrupted unless it’s an emergency.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Eddie asked, jumping to his feet. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. “I just need you to give me a hug is all.”

Gareth, Grant and Jeff all froze in shock, then exchanged surprised glances.

Did they hear you just right? Did you seriously just ask for a hug? Surly they were hearing things. A combination of the drinks and loud music coming from the jukebox messing up what your words sounded like. That made way more sense than you asking for a hug.

But a warm smile came to Eddie’s face in response, and he stepped closer to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. Your arms slipped around his waist as you buried your face into his chest, and you held onto him tightly.

The guys watched for several long moments, gawking as Eddie started to slowly run one hand up and down your back. He softly kissed the side of your head and they could hear him muttering something to you, but they couldn’t make out what. Your body just seemed to melt in his embrace, the tension in your shoulders visibly relaxing as you pressed yourself into the hug.

“What the-“ Gareth started to say, but the words died on his tongue at the glare Eddie’s suddenly shot at him.

Eventually, you pulled back from him just enough for the two of you to exchange a soft kiss.

“All better now, sweetheart?” they heard EddIe ask you.

“Kinda,” you said, nodding. “Do you think I could wait on you at the trailer?”

“Of course,” he replied, then kissed the end of your nose. “You have a key, my house is your house. Make yourself at home, I’ll be there here in a couple of hours.”

After sharing another tender kiss, you finally pulled yourself from Eddie’s arms. You gave the guys a wave and then left The Hideout.

The guys all stared at Eddie as he returned to his seat and took a drink of his beer.

“What?” he asked, finally noticing their looks.

“What the hell was that all about?” Jeff asked.

“Yeah, they never, ever ask to be touched,” Gareth said. “What gives?”

“Nothing,” Eddie said, then sat his bottle down to point at each of them. “And you’d all better just forget you ever saw that.”

The tone of his voice was serious, making them all blink.

“The shit?” Grant asked. “Why?”

“Why? I’ll tell you why,” Eddie leaned forward, a very serious look on his face. “They’ve started sitting on my lap and cuddling every time we’re watching a movie. Completely on their own!”

The guys stared at him in shock.

“Oh wow,” Gareth finally said. “That’s big.”

Eddie nodded rapidly, his curls flying.

“Yeah!” he said. “Huge! So if any of you meathead’s say anything to them and mess this up for me, I swear to God…”

[creamflix]

ino takuma x female reader; established relationship. pure fluff. sassy takuma who loves you very much. mentions of makeup #boyfriendmaterial men !! — masterlist here ☆

you always looked forward to date nights with takuma. the rush of excitement as you darted to the door to greet him never got old. but tonight, your enthusiasm was cut short when he took one long look at you and raised an eyebrow.

"you’re going out dressed like that?"

your smile faltered, jaw dropping slightly. “excuse me?”

“no, no, don’t get me wrong,” he started, waving his hands defensively, though his lips quirked up in a knowing grin. “the outfit’s fine — hot, even. but babe...” he leaned in closer, squinting at your face like a detective examining evidence.

“did you forget to blend your foundation on your jawline?” he asked, his tone so genuinely curious that you almost didn’t catch the teasing lilt.

“what?” you gasped, turning to the mirror by the door to inspect yourself. “no, i didn’t — wait, oh my god.” there it was, a clear streak of unblended foundation making your skin look mismatched.

takuma chuckled softly, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks as he inspected further. “and your eyeliner... it’s a biiitt uneven. left wing’s flying to heaven, but the right one’s still boarding.”

“takumaaa!” you groaned, smacking his arm lightly as heat rushed to your face.

“relax, sweetheart,” he said, his voice soft but playful. “’m just sayin', you were in a rush, weren’t you? your blush is doing all the work, but your brows look like they clocked out early.”

“okay, okay, i get it!” you huffed, crossing your arms. “are you done teasing me, or do you have more notes?”

“one more thing.” his thumb gently brushed the corner of your lips.

“your lipstick’s smudged a little. probably from when you bit your lip while waiting for me.”

your glare softened at that, his observant nature making it impossible to stay annoyed. “ugh, fine. are we going or what?”

“not yet,” he declared, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward your room. “we’re fixing this. no way i’m letting you go out with makeup that doesn’t match your gorgeous self.”

“seriously?” you asked, half-annoyed, half-amused.

“yes ma’m. sit,” he instructed, pointing to the chair in front of your vanity. “truustt me, you’ll thank me later.”

“oh, so you’re a makeup artist now?” you teased, but you complied, sitting down and watching as he rummaged through your products.

“not professionally, but i’ve picked up a thing or two.” he shot you a wink before grabbing a beauty blender.

“blend, don’t swipe,” he muttered to himself as he fixed the foundation on your jawline. “and here... let me even out the blush. this one’s too strong.”

you couldn’t help but stare at him in awe as he worked with surprising precision. “how do you even know all this?”

“you,” he said simply, glancing at you with a soft smile.

“i pay attention. you’re always talking about makeup techniques, so i figured i should learn a little.”

your heart melted at that, but the real kicker came when he grabbed your eyeliner.

“okay, hold still. i’m fixing this wing.” he leaned in close, tongue peeking out in concentration as he carefully redid the uneven liner. “aaaand there. perfect.”

you blinked at him, stunned. “you’re... really good at this.”

“of course i am.” he smirked, pulling out a matching eyeliner and applying it to his own eyes. “gotta match my girl, right?”

“takuuuu,” you giggled, your tone dripping with affection.

“what? now we both look hot,” he said with a shrug, admiring his handiwork in the mirror. “ready to go now?”

you stood up, pulling him into a tight hug. “i guess i’ll forgive you for the ‘dressed like that’ comment.”

“hey, it was constructive criticism,” he teased, kissing your forehead. “now, let’s go turn heads. especially mine.”

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[peachsukii]

— blast off!

✮ summary. reupload/re-write! your favorite metal band is in town, the same one you used to listen to with bakugo back in high school, and you decide to go to the show together! after a long week, a night out in Shibuya is exactly what you need. ✮ content. fem!reader. no quirks mentioned/modern college au. brief violence, mentions of alcohol, friends to lovers, mutual pining, protective bakugo, fluff, first kisses. ✮ notes. ty so much to @tartagliove for beta'ing for meee! <3

✮ word count. 1.7k 『 k.bakugo masterlist ⨯ crossposted to ao3 』

“How long's it take for ya to get ready?!” Bakugo shouts from your living room, impatiently tapping his foot while sitting on the couch waiting for you to finish touching up your makeup in the bathroom.

“Just a sec!” You call back, leaning over the sink to smudge the corner of your eyeliner just the way you like it.

“Y’don’t even need any damn makeup!” He retorts, a backhanded compliment to get your ass moving. “And it'll just—” His words die in his throat as you emerge from the hallway and make your way into the living room. The outfit perfectly compliments the occasion, one of your favorite metal bands that you two would listen to back in high school. It wasn’t too over the top, at least you didn’t think so. An all black ensemble: a thin long sleeve mesh top under your band t-shirt, tucked lazily into a pleather mini-skirt and a pair of tinted sheer tights hugging your legs. You catch him staring as you’re clipping in a pair of earrings. 

“What? Too much?”

He scoffs, sneakily checking you out a second time. “You look fine. If some slimy fucker creeps on you, I’ll punch his lights out.”

You can’t help but snort as his comment, shaking your head with a playful eyeroll. Bakugo isn’t as dressed up as you are, donning a simple gray t-shirt, a pair of black skinny jeans with rips in the thighs and black boots. A stack of his favorite bracelets hang on his wrist and a pair of black studs adorn his ears.

“Figure out where you wanna eat?” You ask before scurrying to the hallway closet to look for your favorite pair of boots.

“The curry place by the station. We can hop on the train into the city afterwards.”

Shoes in hand, you skip back to the living room and plop next to him on the couch.

“Those things could squash a damn kid,” Bakugo jokes, pointing to the platforms of your boots as you’re lacing them on your feet.

“Shut up! They're my favorites.”

“And you’re still shorter than me with those fuckers on.”

You punch him in the arm, maybe a little too hard, in jest. “I don’t need to be your height to kick your ass!”

“Ow, shit! Watch it, those hands are fuckin’ deadly!” He scolds, rubbing the reddening mark on his bicep.

“My bad,” you chuckle and pat him on the shoulder as an apology. “Come on, let’s get outta here.”

—

“Hand it over,” Bakugo orders as you pick up the check from the table, flexing his palm toward you.

“Kats, I told you—” you start to remind him until he cuts you off mid-explanation.

“Oh I heard ya, doesn’t change shit. Give it.” He snatches the paper and booklet with one hand while fishing his wallet out of his pocket with the other. “Stop bein’ a brat and let me pay for your stupid dinner.”

Bakugo consistently paid whenever the two of you would go out. It didn’t matter what it was; coffee before work, snacks from the convenience store, lunch outings, dinners in the city, he’d shove you aside and take your card. The few times you did get to pay for him, he immediately sent you the money back. It’s been a consistent staple in your friendship since senior year of high school.

“I’m not being a brat! I was just trying to treat you to dinner for once."

Bakugo rolls his eyes. "Yeah, whatever."

—

The two of you arrive at the venue an hour before the show starts, giving you enough time to get inside, grab drinks and find a perfect spot as planned. The bar is relatively empty when you walk in.

“Are you at least gonna let me buy you a drink?” You tease, elbowing Bakugo in the arm.

He sighs dramatically, the tell-tale sign that he’s no longer going to fight you on it. “You’re lucky I’m feelin’ generous.”

Beers in hand, you both head to the general admission area and situate yourselves near the back. Not too squished between loads of people, but enough to see the stage comfortably.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” you beam, leaning against him as a token of gratitude. "Didn't think you'd come, honestly. It's way past your bedtime, old man."

He throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you into his chest with a huff. “Would'a been mad if ya didn’t ask me to come with ya. We always had it on repeat through study sessions and sparring matches.”

The lights begin to dim and the crowd cheers as the band takes the stage. Bakugo lets you take a step back and shift next to him, but keeps his arm around your shoulders. The two of you cheer together and hold up your beers for the band as they set up for their first song. As the show progresses, Bakugo loves watching you throw your hands up and yell along with the crowd, having the time of your life and not letting anyone get in your way. It’s infectious, his grin not wavering the entire show. Before you knew it, the night was coming to an end.

“We have one more song for the night!” The lead singer announces into the mic as he swings an acoustic guitar over his shoulder. “It’s a special one. If you know the words, don't be afraid to sing along. Thanks for coming out!”

The song they begin to play is one of their slower numbers, one that you know Bakugo adored, even if he never vocalized it. You watch as his eyes light up under the spotlights, taking in the moment as the notes fill the air. You loop your arm with his, rocking back and forth in unison with the rest of the crowd. Bakugo removes his arm from yours to spin you around, pulling you close and holding you to his chest. He gently sways back and forth, the sound of his heartbeat thrumming under your cheek with the subtle vibrations of him humming to the song added to the rhythm. Your eyes flutter closed, absorbing every ounce of love in this moment. Everyone else fades away, this rare moment lost to time and space, reserved just for the two of you. The song comes to an end, your reality slowly restoring to normal when Bakugo loosens his hold around you.

“I didn’t think they were gonna play that tonight,” you say, smiling up at him. “Guess we gotta buy t-shirts now!”

Bakugo laughs, shaking his head. “Matching ones?”

“It’s either that or we buy one and I constantly steal it from you.”

'We?' He cracks a smile at the suggestion.

“You steal my shit all the time, ya brat,” Bakugo teases, pinching your cheek. “I’ll buy two. Which one do y’want?”

“You pick! I’m gonna run to the bathroom before we head out,” you say as you pat him on the shoulder before skipping off to the opposite side of the venue. He heads over to the merch table to stand in line for your t-shirts, but it doesn't take long to get through the line. It feels like an eternity since you wandered off once Bakugo's standing off to the side waiting for you, growing anxious that something happened. He meanders over toward the bathrooms, the t-shirts he bought for you both draped over one of his shoulders. He’s poking around, searching for you in the crowd as he finally spots you in the sea of others. You’re talking with some guy that he doesn’t recognize, and the creep is inching his way into your personal bubble, annoyance written all over your face. Bakugo stomps forward and catches the last part of his lame excuse of a pickup line.

“C’mon doll, you’re fine as hell. Don't you—"

"Beat it, jackass. She's not interested," Bakugo interrupts, stepping to your side.

The guy scoffs and takes a step back from you. "And who the hell are you?"

Bakugo doesn't hesitate when he answers confidently. "Her boyfriend. Now fuck off."

Your cheeks flare at his comment. Did he mean that, or was that just to get this guy off your back? You turn to leave when the guy slaps your ass - hard - making you jump with disgust. Everything turns red in an instant.

"Have fun with this loser, babe,” he mocks with a shit eating grin plastered across his face.

Bakugo doesn't even have time to react himself before your fist crashes into this guy's jaw, clocking him so hard that he stumbles to the floor in shock. The commotion causes one of the security guards to scurry in your direction, beckoning for you to come over to him.

"Fuck, we gotta go!" you yell, interlocking your fingers with Bakugo's as you weave through the crowd and dart away from the guard before getting caught. The two of you manage to escape, bolting out of the venue's exit door and into the busy Shibuya streets. You don't stop running until you round a corner and duck into an alleyway, hiding from any potential security that could've tailed you. Out of breath, you lean on to the wall and wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand.

"Shit, sorry Kats, didn't mean to thrash you around like that."

Bakugo takes a second before deciding to box you up against the wall with his frame, catching you off guard.

"I'm not complain'. I won't lie, it was kinda hot watchin' you punch that asshole."

A genuine laugh bubbles in your throat. "He deserved it. But boyfriend, huh?" you joke, smirking and pulling at the collar of his t-shirt.

"I bought matching band shirts with ya, who the fuck else would I do that shit with?" Bakugo snickers as he's shutting his eyes, lowering his face to level with your own before your lips meet. The kiss is impulsive, but feels oh so right. You pull him back in for another right after, longer and sweeter than the first, enough to show that he earned the boyfriend title.

This isn't where you thought the night would end, but you're over the moon.

✮ network. @pixelcafe-network ✮ bkg & all tags. @slayfics @maddietries @starieqq 

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[stardustloserdoll]

hii can you do friends to lovers with johnnie x youtuber!reader? and the reader is like friends with jake and thats how they met? love your work btw <3

tyyy 🩷

you know i’ll keep you in my locket

“y/n you made it! come, i want you to meet someone!” jake quickly grabbed my hand, dragging me through the crowd pulling me in many directions. until he stopped in his tracks, “ah there he is.” jake spoke turning back giving me a smile. “johnnieee.” jake sang pulling me next to him with a big smile on his face.

“what.” the guy johnnie said looking up from his drink to look at jake. “this is y/n! remember i told you all about them?” johnnie nodded his head sending a smile towards me “yeah you yapped a bunch about them.” johnnie replied, making me laugh. “you know me, the yap king. anyways, y/n! this is johnnie.”

i smiled waving at johnnie “hey, nice to meet you. jakes also told me a lot about you. i like your shirt by the way.” johnnies eyes lit up “you like this band?” i nodded my head “i love them! i have all of their cds and posters all over my room.” i laughed putting my hands in my pockets. jake watching us with a big smile on his face.

“oh yeah johnnie! y/n is also a youtuber! i think you guys should do a collab together. it should be fun.” jake said wrapping his arms around our shoulders. “im down.” i smiled looking over to johnnie. “yeah me too.”

ever since that day, johnnie and i have been inseparable. every time i saw him, the bigger my crush on him got. i always got nervous and stuttered around him, probably making it obvious i liked him. i don’t know if i’ll ever tell him how i feel..

"hi everyone, today i have a special guest joining me…johnnie!" i smiled pulling him in frame "hi."

"johnnies going to attempt to do my makeup. i glanced at johnnie sending him a reassuring smile."i know he'll do great."

johnnie started applying the foundation onto my face, patting it down softly. "how about we tell them how we met." i said moving some hair out of my face.

"ooh you're right!" johnnie smiled moving onto the eyeshadow and mascara, "alright so we met at a party, and jake introduced us to each other. jake told me a lot about y/n, but i never got to meet y/n, but i'm glad i finally did."

"aww, johnnie." johnnie smiled tapping my knee signaling he was done. “how’s it looking.” i smiled. "it looks. pretty good actually. i made a mess though." he laughed cleaning where the mascara smudged. "i bet it looks great. now, the hardest part. the eyeliner." i said lifting it up to him. "oh god, if you look like a clown by the end of this im so sorry." johnnie held my face gently as he began applying the eyeliner.

"anyways,” johnnie said resuming “back to the story. it was an instant connection, we liked a lot of the same things, especially our humor. since then, we’ve literally been hang out like..everyday. i'd have to say my favorite person ever is y/n, sorry jake."

"you heard him jake. IM his favorite." i smiled sticking my tongue out. "okay, i think i did pretty good." johnnie said leaning back making sure the wings were sharp. "im really excited to see the finishing product." i said clapping my hands. johnnie set the eyeliner down and told me to open my eyes. "guys look at the matching necklaces johnnie and i got."

"we have pictures of each other in them." johnnie smiled opening the heart locket. "he looks so cute in this picture." i laughed raising it up to the camera. "y/n looks so pretty here." johnnie smiled looking into my eyes, glancing down at my lips.

“why are you looking at me like that.” i laughed pinching his cheek. “what do you mean!” johnnie yelled lifting his arms up. “you’re looking at me like you wanna kiss me.” johnnie turned away, mumbling something under his breath. “what was that johnnie?” he shook his head mumbling a ‘nothing.’ “wait i forgot the lipstick.” johnnie reached over and grabbed the lipstick, carefully applying it.

"okay y/n, are you ready to see your final look." i nodded my head and raised the mirror. “johnnie.” i gasped. “I TOLD YOU IT WAS BAD!” i shook my head. “NO ITS SO GOOD! you have a magic hand.” i smiled setting down the mirror. johnnie smirked at my comment making me hit his shoulder softly.

“okay guys, that’s the end of the video. thank you so much for watching! make sure to like and subscribe, andddd if you want more of johnnie i will have his channel linked down below. say bye johnnie!” i wrapped my arm around his shoulder waving. “baaaiii!”

“i had so much fun johnnie.” i grinned setting my hands on my lap. “me too, i always have fun with you y/n.” johnnie smiled as he played with the necklace. “uh y/n. can i ask you something.” i nodded my head “yeah of course.”

“well,” johnnie hesitated “um i’ve really enjoyed spending time with you lately, and we’ve gotten really close. the more i spend time with you, the more i start to fall even more in love with you.” i blushed placing my hands on top of his. “i feel the same way. ever since i met you i instantly fell for you. i love everything about you johnnie.”

johnnies eyes widened at that, a faint blush spreading on his pale cheeks. “well, what do you say we make it official?” i asked holding his hand. “id love to.”

[jsfix]

Come right on me (I mean camaraderie!) - Dick Grayson

Pairing: Dick Grayson x F!Reader

Summary: You and your teammate, Dick, hook up at a gala.

Warnings: MDNI, f!reader but there’s no descriptions, r wears makeup , P in V (unprotected. don’t do that), fingering (r receiving), praise, light breeding kink, seemingly unrequited feelings, talks about cumming in you but that does not happen, kinda exhibitionsistic? pet names (pretty girl, baby)

WC: 1,582

AN: Yes he has his wallet on him during a gala at his own house. Don’t ask me why, ask him 🤷🏻‍♀️ as always any and all feedback is appreciated!! fellow floridians pls stay safe 🙏🏻

~

You try to quiet down your moans but you’re mostly unsuccessful even as Dick puts his hand over your mouth and shushes you. 

“You gotta stay quiet, pretty girl. Don’t want anyone hearing you, do you?” He asks sardonically. 

Bruce Wayne was throwing another gala, this time at Wayne Manor. Deciding he didn’t want to suffer through the event alone, Dick had invited some of the Titans, which in turn made the rest of the bats ask if their friends/teammates could also come and so the hall was filled with almost as many heroes as there were civilians. 

As you’d never been to a gala, you decided to ask Steph and Cass for advice on what to wear and how to do your hair and makeup. It turned into a full blown makeover. You felt confident; your makeup, courtesy of Steph, was flawless, and the dress they helped you pick out paired well with your complexion. You thought you looked gorgeous and, evidently, you weren’t the only one. 

You and Dick had known each other for a long time. You’d always had a crush on him, even when he was Robin, and when you saw him become Nightwing and grow into his own, your feelings only became stronger. There was always this energy between you two. Your teammates had pointed it out but you were too shy to bring it up, too scared of changing your dynamic. Despite this, you couldn’t resist him when you ran into each other in the hallway on the way to the ballroom, his eyes raking up and down your figure before pulling you into the nearby bathroom and setting you on the counter. 

“Dick!” Your muffled moan filled the room.

“Baby,” he shushed you again, “We’re so close to the party. Can’t have you moaning so loud for me. Maybe I should stop?” He asks as he curls his fingers inside of you, hitting your g-spot while his thumb rubs your clit. You shake your head, whimpering against his hand. If he stopped, you think you might actually cry. 

“I’ll stay quiet,” You told him once he removed his hand from your mouth. “Promise.”

“Oh, you promise?” He asked with a smirk, adding another finger as they slammed back into your pussy. You tried to muffle your moaned yes by biting your lip. 

“We’ll see if you can keep that promise while you’re bouncing on my cock.” He kissed you as he pulled his fingers out of your pussy. Your kisses grew hotter as you moved from his mouth down to his neck, mindful of where you sucked on his skin, not wanting to leave visible marks. Your hands slid down his body, feeling his hot skin even through his buttoned shirt. They found his belt, swiftly unblocking and unbuttoning before sliding in to cup at his length. You felt more than heard his reaction, his chest jumping as his breath hitched from the sensation. You smiled against his collarbone. For all that you loved his teasing you really wanted to see him lose control; make him moan and whimper and tell him he had to be quiet, all while working him harder. 

Before you could try that though, he turned you around and bent you over the counter. His lips found your neck as he pushed his pants down and started grinding his length against you. 

“God, look at you,” he put his hand under chin to face your reflection. “Beautiful.”

His praise brought heat to your cheeks as you made eye contact with your reflection. You looked like a mess, truly; your once perfect hair now ruffled, your lipstick and your eyeliner smudged. Worth it, though. 

“Dick,” you moaned softly, and you could see approval in his eyes. There was also a spark of something else, something he usually got during training or an actual fight. “I need you.”

He left one last kiss to your neck before pulling away. He pulled his wallet from his pants and, after rummaging through it, let out a quiet fuck. 

“What?” You asked him. 

“I don’t have a condom.” He ran his hand through his hair. 

Now. You recognize what you say next is slightly dumb. You also have no regrets. Because Dick Grayson had finally kissed you, finally touched you, after you’d wanted and waited for something like this to happen. So, yeah. No regrets. 

“That’s okay.” His eyes snapped up to meet yours. 

“What?”

“It’s okay. We can do it without a condom,” You say, now feeling awkward in your still bent-over position. “If you want to, obviously. You can just pull out.” 

“Seriously?” He said, astonished. He moved back toward his previous position, standing behind you, looking at you through the mirror. 

“Yeah.” You breathed out. “Just, pull out.” 

“I’ll pull out.” He said. Then he started touching you again, slower this time, a little softer. 

“Dick, please.” Your begging brought a smirk to his face. His hands trailed from your hips, down to your thighs, then up to your heat, spreading your wetness from your hole to your clit. 

“So needy,” he said softly, moving to press a kiss against your neck, “so desperate.” His fingers started moving faster against your clit as he started grinding against you. “Remember to stay quiet, baby.”

His hands pulled away from you to grab his dick, moving it along your slit to lube himself up some more before pressing the head against your pussy. You squirmed as he asked you ready? and when you moaned out a needy yes is when he finally pushed into you. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling almost completely out of you before pushing back in, “you’re so tight.” He squeezed your hips in an attempt to ground himself before he thrusted his hips again. 

“So warm. You feel so good. Can’t believe you’re letting me fuck you raw.” His pace quickened as he watched his dick slide in and out of your pussy. 

“Dick-” You moaned aloud. 

“What did I say about being loud?” His eyes connected now with yours in the mirror as he picked up his pace. 

“Can’t help it.” You whimpered, “feels too good.” He adopted a smile as your words hit him. 

“I know, pretty girl,” he cooed, “maybe this’ll help.” He said before shoving his fingers into your mouth. 

You could taste yourself on his fingers and you moaned as you stared at him through the mirror. He bent down, chest against your back to drive his hips into yours harder. 

“Fuck I know. Feels so good, baby. Can feel all of you. So fucking wet.” His eyes moved back down to watch as his dick slid in and out of you. “So pretty. Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He was babbling now, encouraged by your moans that were not at all muffled by his fingers. You both gave up on that, too caught up in the feeling of one another. 

“God, you’re squeezing my dick so hard. So desperate for me. Wanting me to fuck you without a condom.” He groaned. “Bet you’d let me come in you.” You let out a moan, pussy clenching hard on his length. His hips stuttered at the feeling. 

“Fuck, you would, wouldn’t you?” He laughed breathlessly as he started thrusting again, his free hand now moving to rub at your clit. “You’d let me come in you. Knock you up?” 

Of all the times you’d dreamt of being with him, you’d never imagined this. 

“Yes, Dick,” You whimpered, as he pulled his finger out of your mouth, both at his words and the tightening you felt as you came close to cumming. “Fuck, yes!” 

Feeling your walls tightening around him, he applied more pressure to your clit, coaxing your orgasm out of you. He let out a moan as he pulled out of you, jerking his cock in his fist before cumming over your slit. He rested his head against your neck as you panted, his chest pressing against your back grounding you. 

“You alright?” He pressed a kiss against your shoulder, moving to grab a hand towel when you nodded. He ran it under warm water, wringing it out before cleaning you up. He paused when you let out a hiss. 

“Sorry.” You stood up as he finished, now facing him, “Just.. you’re big.” He chuckled as your face warmed. His hand came up to fix the straps of your dress, then smooth down the fabric where it crumpled. You looked at each other, both of you trying to find words to say, wanting to talk about what just happened. Dick’s phone went off before either of you had the chance to speak up.

“It’s Wally,” he said, reading the notification on his phone, “he’s asking where we are.” 

“Okay.” You said before gesturing to your appearance, “I just need to clean myself up. I’ll meet you there?” His shoulders fell slightly before he nodded. He opened the bathroom door and checked the hallway before waving you out. You parted ways; him going to the ballroom and you going back to Steph’s room. You stayed there longer than you needed to, thinking of your time in the bathroom and what it meant now for you and Dick. 

When you finally entered the ballroom, the first time that night, no one seemed suspicious. You were seemingly in the clear. You just hoped that no one had been in that hallway. And that the Supers had stayed in Metropolis tonight.

~ 

AN: I’ve had this in my drafts for a while (it’s actually been in my drafts since August 27 I checked) but I never knew what to write for it but now that I’ve started writing smut I finally finished this so. Here it is lol. I did have this idea come to me in the middle of writing my kinktober week 2 fic lol anyway

[houseofripley]

Save A Horse Ride A Cowgirl

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, Cunnilingus, Strap-On, Riding, Orgasm Denial, Fingering (for like 2 seconds. don’t blink), Light Degradation, Spanking, Backshots, Lil bit of a mommy kink.

WORD COUNT: 2,736

A/N: -panting and out of breath- honey! it took me 800 hours but your oneshot is finished!

seriously tho sorry for the mid! writers block was beating my ass during this for no reason

Survivor Series, the day the wrestling community waited months for. You were sat at the edge of the bed in your hotel room, staring into the loud TV, waiting for your girlfriend to make her appearance for her match against Zoey Stark. 

You were supposed to be there but of course Rhea’s magment had fucked up their dates, leaving you without a pass to the event.

It killed both of you knowing you wouldn’t be backstage to cheer on Rhea. 

Anytime a pay-per-view even came around you’d clear your entire schedule just to support and help Rhea prepare. She took such good care of you it was the least you could do. Although you couldn’t physically be at the arena you still flew out to Chicago to at least be able to spend a little bit of time with Rhea.

You were pulled away from your train of thought as Rhea’s music soon started blaring through the stadium, “And her opponent, representing The Judgment Day, she is the women's world champion, Rhea Ripley!” The announcer yelled out as Rhea made her entrance, wearing what was possibly the sexiest gear she has ever worn.

“Holy shit-” You mumbled to yourself, leaning forward trying to get a closer look. Rhea looked insane. Her hair was in a faux mohawk, stripes of eyeliner ran over her eyes in a lighting strike pattern, black lipstick was smudged onto her right cheek. 

Rhea’s eyes never broke contact with the camera lens as she made her way down the ramp, she knew you'd be right on the receiving end of her gaze.

Once Rhea made her way into the ring you were able to catch a good glimpse at her gear. She sported a black vest over a black and white plunge top that was split down the middle, her shorts following the same theme while her boots displayed a cow print. But the bread and butter of this outfit was the black assless chaps. 

This outfit had to have been the reason Rhea was so protective over her suitcase these past few days. 

You sat eagerly watching the match, which was short yet action packed. Rhea had thrown Zoey around like she was nothing the entire match, your mind couldn't help but wonder what it’d look like if Rhea had manhandled you in the same way.

Rhea had retained her title with ease, barely breaking a sweat during the length of her match. You were quick to pick up your phone and congratulate her,

Y: YOU DID IT LOVEEEE!!!! and you looked good as hell while doing it….

Rhea replied about ten minutes later with a full body mirror selfie to show off her look, this time with an addition of a black cowboy hat and her hair out of the faux mohawk.

R: thank you baby, my hair wouldn’t fit in my hat so we had to ditch that plan :/ 

Y:  god damn! ditch wrestling and become a cowboy! 

Y: it’s so unfair i don’t get to see you like that rn urghhh

R: i know baby, i promise i’ll make it up to you tonight. look, i gotta go do a few things, i’ll see you in an hour or two okay?

Y: you better…now shoo and don’t keep me waiting for you all night

You huffed as you dropped your phone down onto your lap. The wait for Rhea had officially begun. 

There was one match left before the main war games match. Knowing Rhea would make an appearance in that last match you decided to rile her up a bit beforehand. 

You made your way to your suitcase and began searching for the new lingerie set you had bought just days ago while Rhea was training. You pulled out a bra made of intricate lacing along with the matching crotchless panties and garter belt. 

Once you had slipped into the lace you stationed yourself in front of the mirror. You used your free hand to grope your breast as you snapped a photo and sent it to Rhea.

Y: excited to see mami on my screen.

R: naughty girl…

R: are you really trying to get yourself into trouble right now?

Y: well i just figured since mami sent me such a sexy pic earlier i’d return the favor. i can send another one if you'd like…

You didn’t give Rhea the opportunity to reply before you snapped another picture, this time slightly rotating to your side to catch the curvature of your ass.

Seen at 9:36 pm.

You stared at your phone waiting for her reply but attention was pulled away as you heard The Judgment Day being announced, Rhea was nowhere to be seen as they made their entrance. You pouted as you laid down in the bed, your knees slightly spread as you watched in anticipation for Rhea’s appearance.

After a long match, intense and still no reply Rhea finally arrived at the end of the match, she came barreling down the ramp, this time wearing her cowboy hat with Priest’s MITB briefcase clenched in her hands.

You quickly took the opportunity to send Rhea a picture of your hand resting in between your thighs as she paraded on the screen in front of you. 

Y: just remembered a quote, something about save a horse, ride a cowgirl…

Another waiting game began. As much as you loved seeing Rhea clearly flustered on the screen you couldn’t wait for her to get to the locker room and see the message you left for her.

After a failed cash-in and two surprise returns from Randy Orton and CM Punk the main event finally came to a close, meaning Rhea was finally able to return to her phone. You picked up your phone to view your previous message exchanges with Rhea.

A text bubble appeared, indicating Rhea was on the other side drafting up her response. You chewed down on your cheek eagerly watching your phone. 

The text bubble disappeared.

Seen at 10:24pm.

You whined to yourself, a wetness growing between your legs. You attempted to make multiple calls to Rhea, only for each and every one of them to be ignored. You slumped into the bed, giving up on making contact with the woman.

Just moments later a banner popped up at the top of your phone,

R: face down ass up. you have two minutes.

Rhea had finally given you the attention you were craving. You needed her touch badly, so you gladly obeyed her demands getting into position in the center of the bed. Your face sunk into your pillow while your bare cunt peeked through the gap of your crotchless panties as you took in the sensation of the crisp hotel air that kissed your wetness.

You soon heard the quiet unlatching of the door followed by shuffling fabric. You peeked over to see Rhea, in that damn cowboy hat, discarding her streetwear to reveal the gear you’d been fawning over all night.

Rhea’s gaze was fixed on your arching back as she crept her way towards you. 

“Such a little slut for me,” Rhea husked, her weight sinking onto the bed as you waved your ass in the air. She took a moment to admire the sight of your wet cunt glistening in the dimmed light. 

“Just the thought of Mami has you all worked up.” Rhea relished, her hands skimming over the delicate skin of your ass before dropping a slap down onto you, causing a muffled yelp to leave your mouth.

Rhea moved her pointer finger to your heat and began to trace the skin around your wetness. Her finger took its time inching towards your hole before being pushed into you at a painfully slow pace, making you whine out into your pillow“Mami, please.” 

“What a needy girl.” Rhea taunted, watching you squirm against her finger, “Such a wreck already...” She hummed in response to your whining when she pulled her finger out of you. 

Both Rhea’s hands took ahold of your ass cheeks giving them a squeeze before she brought her face just centimeters from your aching heat. Shivers snuck up your spine as her heavy breaths brushed against your wetness. Her lips wrapped around you, her tongue beginning to draw circles perimitering your clit.

Rhea then pulled back and spat onto your cunt causing a high pitched ‘fuck’ to leave your mouth. She hummed to herself in satisfaction while she took you back into her mouth. Her hands still clenched to your ass as she began devouring you, acting as if she was having her final meal. 

All you could do was cling to the bedsheets and cry out into your pillow as Rhea took as much of you as she could in her mouth, her tongue piercing reaching brand new places. Due to your current position the tip of Rhea’s nose was repeatedly brushing against your entrance, adding fuel to the fire that was burning inside you.

“Gonna cum, Mami!” You pulled your head up from your pillow and moaned out. 

You could feel Rhea scoff against you before prying herself off your cunt, “No you’re not,” She groused, withdrawing all touch from you. “Such a spoiled girl, thinking you get to cum after teasing me when I’m working.”

“Please Mami! I’ll do anything- Just touch me, let me cum.” You pleaded, turning your head to look back at her with scrunched brows.

“You can beg all you want…but we both know that you won't cum until I say so.” Rhea’s tone was smug as she stood up from the bed. “Now…stay there and don’t even think about moving.” She growled on, making her way into the bathroom before closing the door behind her. 

You humphed to yourself, letting your head fall down to your pillow. It took everything in you to restrain your hands from touching yourself, but you knew if Rhea ever caught you pleasuring yourself she would push you to your breaking point. 

Several minutes had passed, your orgasm that was once near had seemingly wandered off. Your eyes were focused on the bathroom door as the knob rotated and Rhea emerged. Her shorts had disappeared and been replaced with a black strap-on…yet her chaps were still on. The sight alone had you arching your back as she lurched towards you.

“Look at you…all ready for Mami’s cock.” She murmured, crawling up behind you. She spat onto the silicon and slowly began jerking herself off, spreading her saliva over the toy before prodding at your slick coated entrance.

“Mami-” You purred out as the tip of Rhea’s toy pressed into your needy hole. Your walls were soon engulfing the entirety of her length. 

You had little to no time to adjust to her girth before she started ripping into you, leaving you at a loss for words. One of her hands was clamped to your hip while the other delivered a sharp slap to your ass before grabbing a fistful of your hair. “This is what you wanted isn’t it-” She groaned out while your cunt pulsed around her toy. “Sending me pictures of you whoring around the room, you were just begging to be ruined.”

The only sounds leaving your mouth were jumbled vowels mixed in with moans, she had you completely unable to form a sentence. You were powerless as Rhea pulled you up by your arms, bringing your back to press against her chest. 

You threw your head back against her shoulder as her hand trailed down to your clit, massaging quick circles against your swollen bud while continuing her merciless strokes.

“Don’t even think about it.” She whispered as you squirmed against her, letting out constant whines. Her free hand reached to wrap around your throat as you began rolling your hips back against Rhea. “Already fucking yourself against Mami’s cock?” She harshly questioned, her fingers adding more pressure against your clit, forcing a scream to come from your mouth.

“Such a slut.” Rhea lowly stated, letting go of the hold she had on you before pushing you back down to the bed. Her thrusts came to a halt as you rocked yourself on her cock. Her hand dropped a bitter spank on your skin, signaling for you to quicken your pace.

Rhea allowed you to fuck yourself on her strap while she caught her breath and admired the view she had of you. But your motions were abruptly cut off by Rhea’s hands firmly gripping your hips. You whimpered as she pulled herself out of you, leaving you empty.

Rhea flipped you onto your back before pulling you to sit upright. “You wanna ride Mami’s cock don’t you,” Her hoarse voice spoke, her hand moving to place her hat onto your head. You nodded, looking up to her with needy eyes while shifting to sit on your knees. “Use your words, princess.” She warned as her fingers gripped your jaw, taking control over you.

“Please, I've been waiting all night, Mami.” You swallowed, your breath shaking in anticipation as your hips wiggled with excitement.

“That’s it, good girl.” She hummed in approval, dropping the grip she had on your jaw. She brought herself to the head of the bed, resting her back on the headboard. You crawled up to her lap and situated your entrance to hover over Rhea’s tip. 

Your hands clutched Rhea’s shoulders as you began sinking yourself onto her length while moaning her name. As your hips started gradually bouncing, Rhea’s hands found themselves resting against your waist.

Meanwhile the pairs of your lips collided into a sloppy kiss. You whined into Rhea’s mouth, the piercing on her tongue brushing against your lip as her hands trailed to cup your breasts. Your eyes were glued shut as swayed yourself up and down Rhea’s length.

The overwhelming sense of pleasure was already washing over you. The combination of Rhea’s lips wandering to your neck, her digits toying with your nipples, and her cock being swallowed by your insides had your stomach contracting. 

Your pace picked up in speed as you tightened yourself around Rhea’s girth. As you focused on the movements in your hips Rhea’s attention was centered around your neck and collarbones, working on scattering reddish-purple marks against your skin. 

“Please-Can’t hold on any longer.” You pleaded with the woman through whimpers, your nails beginning to sink deeper into her shoulders. 

Rhea pulled herself from your neck, her hands moved to force your hips all the way to the base of her length. “Just one more minute, can you do that for me?” She questioned, her hands guiding you to rock back and forth.

“Y-Yes Mami,” You whimpered out at the sensation of your clit rocking against the leather band at the base of Rhea’s strap.

As the end of the excruciating sixty seconds neared your motions got sloppier with each motion. Rhea was sure guests in the other rooms  could hear your moans but you didn’t care, your mind was only focusing on not cumming at the exact moment.

“Open your eyes, pretty girl.” Rhea’s accent was thick as she spoke. “I want you to look at me while you cum all over my cock.” She added on while her fingers softly danced around your jawline.

Your eyes darted open once you heard Rhea finally give you permission to release yourself. Your vision was blurred by tears as you stared into Rhea’s oceanic blues. “Fuck-Oh! Mami!” You had barely managed to choke out, just seconds away from your climax. 

“C’mon,” Was the last thing you hear Rhea egg on before your orgasm flooded over you, leaving you crying out moans. Rhea’s hands moved to stabilize your twitching and shaking lower half. Quiet praises left your girlfriend's mouth as she helped you come down from your high. Your swollen lips placed a gentle peck against Rhea’s cheek as insignificant tears fell from your eyes.

“You okay, Princess? I didn’t hurt you did I?” Rhea’s gaze softened while her hands hurried to cup your face. 

You shook your head, giving her a weak smile, “Mm-mm, just felt really good…” You quietly replied as your arms wrapped behind Rhea’s neck. You gave Rhea a gentle smooch as she carefully pulled you off her length, the once black strap was now covered with scattered strings of whiteness.

“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up, pretty girl.”

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 23

part 1 | part 22 | ao3

cw: alcohol, recreational drinking

Steve fusses with his hair in the side mirror again, tugging awkwardly at his borrowed clothes. He feels stupid, standing here fidgeting in the parking lot like some kind of nervous freshman, but half of Hawkins seems to be here tonight and Robin’s got him dressed like a loser — worn green flannel and a ripped black tee with a faded picture of The Smiths. Jesus. “Did you really have to dress me like this?” 

“What? You look cute!” 

“I look like I raided Jonathan Byers’ closet.”

“No, you look like someone a certain neighbor is going to be drooling over all night.” Steve’s grateful for the dark then; for the blush it hides on his cheeks. “It’s not my fault you don't know how to make a deal; if you wanted to borrow a specific shirt, you should have said so before we shook on it.”

“Besides,” she ignores him when he rolls his eyes at her, “you wouldn’t even let me smudge eyeliner on your lower lash line like I wanted to, so I really don't feel like you’ve earned complaining privileges.” 

“I’ll complain if I fucking want to,” he grumbles under his breath. He runs a hand through his hair one more time, then forces himself to look away from the mirror. Rolls his shoulders back and down. “He’s not even here, anyway.”

“Ah-ha! So you did check.” She links their arms together, starts dragging Steve across the uneven gravel, her ankles wobbling in her low-heeled boots. “‘Just looking for a good parking spot,’ my ass. God, I’m always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct. I should really play the lottery next time I visit my grandparents..."

“Uh huh.” He’s not sure what luck and correctness have to do with each other, but sure.

She stumbles over a rock; pushes into his side, grinning, “I’m serious! I’ll play the lottery, and I’ll win big, and then you’ll see. Might even split my winnings with you if you’re nice to me.” 

“I’m literally so nice to you all the time, but okay. Can’t wait to take half your earnings when you get ten bucks off a scratcher.” 

“Hey, five bucks is five bucks! That’s like an hour and a half of our lives.”

Jesus Christ. “That’s just depressing.”

They walk arm and arm down the narrow footpath to the party — ferns brushing their calves, dry dirt beneath their shoes kicking up tiny clouds of dust — and as the path opens up Steve sees the place is packed. More packed than the overstuffed parking lot let on. There are people scattered over the picnic grounds in groups of fours and fives, a full dance floor under the main pavilion; a DJ set up at the front with food and drink stands to the side; a giant bowl of spiked punch; a tower of solo cups; a couple of coolers filled with beer.

In the surrounding grass he sees more tables, more people. A couple of guys he remembers from swim team rally around an arm wrestling match; another group plays beer pong on a brown fold-up table that they definitely stole from someone’s church. There's a circle of burnouts playing hacky sack behind a tree.

The bonfire burns brightly on the hillside in the distance, and beyond that he spots the faint glow of trail lights leading up to a bridge under the falls. 

Part of him wants to follow the trail. Shake Robin off, pretend like he’s going to take a leak. Find a nice rocky overhang to camp under for a while.

Listen to river sounds. Gentle slosh; cricket buzz.

Maybe he gets drunk up there alone. Maybe he just enjoys the solitude; lies on a rock on his belly by the icy river’s edge, swirls his hand in frigid water and doesn't dream of dark brown curls.

“Steve?” Robin nudges him. “You good?”

Another, much less annoying part of him reminds him that he’s Steve Goddamn Harrington. He knows how to have a good time at a party.

Who cares if he feels too old to be here, or if it’s weird to see so many faces that used to call him Captain or King? Who cares that he's one smudge of eyeliner away from looking like a full-blown new wave art freak?

He’s not about to slink off to do depressed weirdo wallflower shit when the DJ’s playing Wham!

“Yeah.” He squeezes her shoulder. “You want a drink?” 

“Yes, please.” 

—

The drinks are strong.

Steve’s pretty sure the punch bowl is a lot more hunch than punch, but there’s still no sign of Vickie, and Robin’s getting that sad little stress wrinkle between her brows about it, so Steve says bottoms up and starts chugging. 

They wince their way through two cups each. Robin plugs her nose on the second one like she’s about to do a high dive, and Steve laughs and takes her hand, leading her into the crowd just as Take on Me comes on. The lights all blur together as they shimmy and shake and twirl, moving like a couple of dorks, but Steve’s having a great time. Bobbing his head to the beat; a big, dumb grin on his face as he moves his hips. Robin shouts “Watch this!” over the music, and the next thing he knows they’re competing to see who can bust the worst dance move. 

He brings out all the big guns, the full-groan dad maneuvers.

The sprinkler, the lawn mower, the fucking disco finger. 

Robin answers with a sloppy attempt at the robot, so he makes up a new move he calls be kind, rewind, and she laughs like a horse and pretends to walk down a flight of stairs.

She’s crouched into a goofy lunge, two steps into the ascent back up, when the song fades out and a ballad takes over. The crowd presses in to slow dance; Robin steps on someone's toes.

“Hey, watch it!” the person hisses.

Robin startles hard; knocks herself off-balance when she tries to stand up straight, babbling, "Oh, my god, I'm so sorry! Are you- are you okay? I'm such a klutz, oh, my god, I'm—"

Steve snatches her up under the armpits; puts her back on her feet. Then he looks up and realizes who exactly she just stepped on. 

Well, shit.

—

part 24

tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot

[3minsover]

late night:early start

City commuter Steve has to get the first train at 5:30am, already suited and preened for the day even at the early hour. He ends up in the same carriage as a clearly tired, scruffy-looking guy who lays his guitar case down across two seats about three rows away from Steve before slumping into one himself, one that faces Steve.

Despite the guy’s bedraggled appearance, and the smudges of eyeliner that are still clinging to his waterline, Steve is entranced. He can’t help but follow the long line of the guy’s arms under the sleeves of his jacket, down to the flex and curl of his fingers as they drum out a rhythm on the little table in front of him. The man seems to sense Steve’s curious eyes on him and glances up, meeting Steve’s gaze with wide, bleary brown eyes and a half-smile. He scratches at the skin behind his ear, just beneath where a mess of curls is twisted into a lazy bun.

“Late night?” Steve finds himself asking unprompted. He’s not one to talk to strangers, but there’s something compelling, intriguing about the inked etchings peaking out of the guy’s sleeve cuffs, the silver stud in his nose, the heavy boots at the end of long, stretched out legs. He’s so very different from the crisp and fresh-pressed suits at the firm, and even though it isn’t even 6am yet, Steve suddenly feels wide awake.

“Uh, yeah,” the guy answers sheepishly, his voice rough with evident disuse - or overuse. perhaps both. “Would you believe I missed the last train yesterday night?”

“Ah, trains are tricky like that. You don’t live around here then?” It’s a presumptuous question, but one that Steve’s instincts tell him to ask.

“I look like that much of a city rat, huh?” The man chuckles, and Steve’s heartbeat ticks up.

“Hah- You don’t- You don’t look like a lot of the people I see around town, is all I’m saying. and that’s not a bad thing, if I’m being totally honest.” Steve can feel his cheeks heating, and for a moment the rumble of the train is the only sound.

“Okay, good. I’ll take that,” the guy says, brows pinching a little. “You uh, you goin’ into the city then I'm guessing?”

“Yeah, it’s a shitty gig having to come all this way, but at least I haven’t had to sell my kidney to cover rent.”

“I don’t think they’d take my kidney if I offered,” the guy smiles, and Steve barks out a laugh that’s too loud for the empty carriage and the earliness. The guy shifts in his seat, and Steve instinctively leans forward, wanting really to move the few rows forward until he’s close enough to see the early morning light dance and glint in those big, dark eyes.

“That have anything to do with while you were stranded?” Steve asks, gesturing to the guitar case.

“Yup. got me in all kinds of trouble, she has. Gig finished late, couldn’t get a cab, welcome to hotel train-station-waiting-room.”

Steve manages to chuckle more softly this time, his gaze catching on the twitch of the guy’s lips as he stifles a yawn.

“Hey, if you wanted to- You could take a nap, I’ll watch your stuff. Make sure no one steals it, or whatever.”

The man blinks at him in surprise, lashes fluttering where his lids are heavy.

“That’d- Shit, that’d be awesome, man. Do you mind?”

“Not at all. Let me just-” And so Steve’s more daring thoughts win out. He plucks up his briefcase from the seat next to him and hurries the short distance to the cluster of seats on the opposite side of the aisle from his new charge. “There. Now I got a clear line of sight.”

“I’ve never felt safer,” the guy jokes, and pulls the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head, tucking his chin into his shoulder and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, shit sorry, um. When should I wake you?”

“Whenever you’re getting off, big boy,” the guy shoots back without raising his head, and Steve can just about make out the curve of his lips and the dimple that sits in the corner of his cheek. He can feel his own cheeks warming at the guy’s words, and Steve’s glad there’s no one around to see. He lets himself watch this pretty stranger under the pretence that he’s keeping an eye on his guitar, and the hour and a half slides by almost unnoticed.

The carriage is a little busier but still quiet when Steve’s stop rolls around. The man hasn’t moved since he nodded off, and it almost breaks Steve’s heart to wake him. Carefully, Steve stands and leans down, wrapping his fingers around the man’s shoulder and shaking lightly.

“Hey, buddy, I gotta get off.”

The guy’s eyes blink open, wide and unfocused and so lovely, before they swivel up to meet Steve’s own. His chin tips upward and his lips curve in a smile, and something in Steve begs closer closer closer, but instead he just clears his throat and rights himself.

“Thank you, dude. Even that was way better than a wooden goddamn bench.” The guy bends his arms and stretches, and Steve doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“I’m- I’m steve, by the way,” he announces suddenly, making a step towards the carriage doors, despite how reluctant he is to move away from his stranger.

“Hey, Steve,” the guy replies, hauling himself upright - how coincidental that they’re off at the same, second-to-last stop. The train draws to a halt, and the guy stumbles forward just a fraction, still off-balance with new consciousness. Suddenly, they’re face to face. Or more they’re nose to chin, because this man has a good four inches on Steve. It’s all Steve can do not to lean up and kiss his pretty lips right here and now. “Name’s Eddie.”

And it feels right. It fits.

Steve doesn’t know how or why, but everything about this man fits; feels right.

“Good to meet you, Eddie,” Steve says, a little breathless. “Hey, if you’re ever down my way again, how about I give you a better place to sleep than a waiting room bench.” And Steve knows it’s a bit of a pretentious thing to do, but he slips a business card out of his wallet and tucks it into the breast pocket of Eddie’s jacket. He pats it once and pivots away, can’t bear the thought that he’s misread the electricity between them. He rushes through the doors and slips into the stream of morning bodies, leaving the perfect newness of his pretty stranger back in that carriage. but that evening, Steve’s phone buzzes with a text from an unsaved number.

It simply reads:

thanks again for being my lookout. if the offer’s still on the table, how about friday night?

[ouchmyheart22]

Hii pretty please something with buggy flirting w reader either with or without a body and at first it's just some off handed comment but reader thinks he's so hot so they get a little 😳👉👈 so he flirts with her more and more and gets increasingly suggestive just to see her squirm<3

Absolutely my love - hope this is what you wanted <3

Request for Buggy x Reader (OPLA Buggy the Clown)

Word Count: 1.7K

Warning: mentions of sex.

He leaned against his chair with such ease and nonchalance, his legs spread wide, one hand on his thigh, the other gripping the whiskey glass. His chin was darkened by stubble, his red lipstick was faded, smudging the crystal glass in his gloved hand.

You tried to focus on pouring the next customers drink but it was no use, your eyes kept trailing towards the corner of the bar, where Buggy and his crew had settled for the night.

Settled, they were anything but settled. Rowdy and increasingly loud, your boss seemed to tolerate the pirates for the business.

You hadn’t even spoke to him. Cabaji had ordered a bottle of whiskey for the captain, while Buggy had made himself comfortable at the head of the table. Perfectly in your eyeline, which you couldn’t tell was a good thing or bad thing.

He shrugged off his coat, revealing his toned arms, veins prominent in his forearms, a hazy blue colour under the fluorescents of the bar.. Definitely a bad thing you decided.

You turned away from the Buggy pirates, in an attempt to distract yourself. You tried to focus on drying the glass in your hands, ignoring the sound of laughter from behind you.

They were all intimidating, sure, they were pirates after all, but there was something about the captain that made your mouth dry, your muscles tense up. His air of confidence and familiarity, as he walked into the bar for the first time, commanding the space. Power.

You wondered what is felt like to have that power.

‘A pint of Red Herring and another bottle of Davy Jones whiskey sweetheart’

You’d been listening to his voice all night. Telling stories to his crew about a straw hat pirates and his friends, how he had successfully infiltrated their crew, and defeated Arlong single handed.

It was a husky tone, mischievous and teasing, he seemed to always be biting back a laugh.

You almost dropped the beer glass in your hands as you turned to him, your eyes wide and innocent.

His palms were flush against the bar, his arms stretched, flexing as he bent them to rest on the counter.

Your mouth opened and closed, suddenly full of sand as your tongue refused to form any words.

He grinned, his red lipstick stretching up his cheeks with amusement.

‘Well hello there Bambi’ the words tumbled from his lips before he even thought.

You blinked, not doing much for the impression.

God Buggy thought, you were a nice change. Young and beautiful, radiating the type of innocence someone at sea had long lost. Your doe eyes were big and expressive, he relished the feeling of your gaze on him. Your lips rested in a little pout, pink and plush as you nodded at him in response.

Buggy started to grind his teeth. Your bottom lip would be better suited between his teeth he thought.

You smiled, polite and shy, clearly too nervous to reply to the captain. For fear your voice would betray you, and come out stuttering and broken.

He leaned further onto the bar as you pulled the tap for the red ale, filling a pint for him.

He watched your small hands, grip the beer tap with ease, your fingers wrapped around the handle. God he wondered what those fingers would feel like wrapped around his-‘

‘I’ll just go take the whiskey from the back’

You finally spoke, your voice sickly sweet to him. It was soft, patient even, though he assumed you must have a lot of patience to be dealing with drunkards all day long.

He nodded, grinning at you, his eyes darkened.

‘I’m sure you love taking things from the back sweets’

Your entire face seemed to fill with colour, your cheeks volcanic hot as you stared at the clown. Had you heard that right? Did he actually just say that ? To you?

He laughed, jutting his chin towards to door wordlessly. As if to say go on, go ahead. You give a small nod, fiddling with your hands as you pushing open the storage room with your shoulder.

A breath escapes you, one you didn't know you had been holding.

God you must have looked so dumb. So naive. What must he be thinking of you? He wasn't thinking of you probably, had probably forgotten what you'd looked like by now.

You cursed yourself as you slid open the glass cabinet that held the top shelf spirits, ironically on the bottom shelf, gripping the Davy Jones bottle carefully.

Turning back towards the door, you allowed yourself a deep breath. Your hands were shaking with anxiety, aching from the adrenaline rush. God you were so reactive, too reactive for your liking. Letting on just how inexperienced you were.

If any other man had spoken to you like that you probably would have rolled your eyes, mentally gagging. But it seemed the attention the clown was giving you was making you squirm.

Gripping the door handle, you held the whiskey close to your chest, easing the blush that had spread down your neck. You allowed another deep breath before you pulled the door open with a small tug.

He had appeared at the door like a shadow, blocking the light from the bar outside the small storage room. His hat allowed a small bit of light to peak over the brim, but his entire form was now darkened, his eyes fell on you expectedly.

You resisted the urge to gulp.

‘Need a hand princess?’

He had popped his right hand off, floating towards you, he wigged his finger in front of your nose.

‘I-I got it’ you answered, weakly holding up the whiskey. You looked at the hand, and then at Buggy, who winked, clicking his tongue for emphasis.

He hummed, taking the bottle from your hand with his detached glove. It attached itself back to his forearm with a satisfying thunk.

Licking his lips, he replied.

‘I just got a craving for something sweet’ he decided

You blinked. Catching yourself with wide eyes again, you forced your eyes shut for a second, playing with your apron you responded.

‘Um.. okay' that was all you could get out at first, before your forced your customer service training to kick in 'What would you like?’

His eyes darkened, his chin dropping to stair at you better. He was an attractive man, even with the makeup, even in the dim lighting, even with the nose.

‘I’d like you. On the rocks. With a lemon slice’ his voice was teasing and rough, an interesting combination that sounded so perfect in your ears.

‘But I’ll settle for a cocktail sweetheart’ he finished, his wolfish grin subdued by a satisfied smirk.

You nodded, weakly, you felt like your body was rusted, in desperate need of oiling.

‘Any preference?’ You didn’t stutter this time but your voice was still smaller than usual. You cringed, you sounded pathetic.

‘I’m sure you’d know what I like sweets’ he shrugged, he cocked his head to the side, looking you up and down ‘You seem very attentive’

You nodded.

That was all you seemed to be able to do around him. He seemed amused, highly satisfied he had mustered such a reaction. Like a cat playing with a mouse he'd caught, dragging you back by your tail each time you slipped away.

He turned to allow you to pass him, though remained in the doorway so you could not avoid his gaze.

As you stepped out of the supply cupboard he bent down, his long blue hair swinging from his hat, a smile plastered on his red lips.

‘Not too sweet though, I don’t want to ruin my appetite’

He chomped down on his teeth, making a satisfying click sound, allowing his eyes to trail down your figure again. His eyes seemed to burn holes into your back as you cross the bar, away from him to start the drink.

By the time he had sauntered back to sit in front of you, your hands had stopped shaking and you were cutting lemon.

He watches you make the cocktail like a lion, watching an injured gazelle stumble, his eyes trained on your every move. You meet his eyes once, they're sea green, bold and piercing. He chuckles as you jerk your head back towards the glass.

‘Pretty’ he comments, his gloved hands are spread out on the counter, so much bigger than your own. You've never liked feeling small, but suddenly you feel just fine about it.

‘Hmm?’ Your head pops up from the cocktail glass, the small shot glass still in your hand. Did he just call you-

His lips turn up again, satisfied with your reaction. He holds your gaze, though you desperately hope the clown breaks the eye contact first. Though that seemed unlikely

‘The cocktail’ he allows his gaze to fall to the pink, frothing liquid below you.

Of course he meant the cocktail.

You place the tall tulip glass in front of him, placing the small red flower as garnish, you finally allow your shoulders to loosen.

He looks to you. Then looks at the cocktail. Then back to you.

This time, you are very aware you are holding your breath. Your hands are clasped behind your back, in an attempt to stretch your shoulders.

He takes a long sip, his eyes never leaving yours.

This feels too intimate for the setting, especially when you see Buggy swallow and his adams apple bobs. You think you might go insane, you want to scream at the clown.

‘Taste okay?’ you manage, forcing a small smile as he rests the glass on the counter.

He shrugs, crossing his arms, leaning closer to your side of the bar.

You look disappointed, like a kicked puppy, but only for a second, as you put on a brave face and open your mouth to offer him an alternative.

Buggy grins, wider than he has the whole night. Watching you squirm has certainly granted him with great entertainment, the best show he's watched in a long time.

He grabs the pint and the whiskey bottle, cackling as he turns away from the bar, leaving you bright red and shifting on your feet.

'You look like you'd taste a lot better sweetheart'

[cherrybomblust]

Simon Riley X Goth!reader

What’s a deal?

Notes~ haven’t wrote smut in a while, probably is going to be bad bUT GOD I needa write for this man. Also not proofread so my apologies.

Tags-Simon x f!reader, NSFW, unprotected sex, piv, rouuughh sex, possessive! Simon, facefuck, deep throating bro is needy!, cum kissing, degradation, praise, kinda sub Simon, hair pulling, slight choking,clothing kink, fishnet tights kink, MEN WEARING EYELINER KINK,Orgasm denial, running makeup kink, Creampie, Unmasked! Simon= established relationship. Mommy used once as a joke:p

“Please please please” you beg, gripping your eyeliner pen for dear life. All he does is rolls his eyes, shaking his head, with a small smirk on his soft lips. “ I’ll do anything for you please, you know you’ll look so fucking good” you continue, pouting like a child, near about to throw a tantrum over this man not letting you paint his lids. “Anything you want” . You continue on, not giving up, no matter how many times he shakes his head and calls it ridiculous. You NEED this. “We got a deal?” You say with a cheeky little smile on your face.

“Fine but as you said anything I want. A deal for a deal doll” he says with a gruff tone, slightly cranking his head back as you squeal. Without a single second of hesitation you’re pushing his head back against the cushion, sitting down onto his lap and telling him to stay calm, not blink and don’t dare move. “Alright goth mommy” he replies back with, earning a grimace from you.

You start by creating small wings, then smudging under his eye, creating a smokiness that make his eyes pop. Blending up into his thick eyebrows, taking note of the small scar that creates a slit. Fuck he’s hot. Is all you can think.

You start to notice the way his eyes follow you, dart between your lips, your eyes, then down to your tits. As always. I mean could you blame him? Wearing the lowest cut top you owned, your pink bra with black skulls peaking out. His favourite. He noticed this as you pushed yourself forward to grab your brushes from the table, your cleavage just directly eye to eye with him. “Such a pretty girl” he whispers to “himself”, of course you heard it, he wanted you to.

You sit back down onto his lap, instantly feeling the hardness of his cock through his utility pants, glad he feels the exact same way as you. from the minute you started adorning his eyes with black, you felt that hotness in your lower tummy, the slick that began to form making your Panties stick to your skin. You wanted him in every shape and form, that’ll never change.

The next thing you know you’re on your knees, with his thick cock down your throat. spit dripping down your chin, to your chest and down your tits. His veiny hands wrapped within your locks as he guides you up and down, making sure to hold you down so he can feel the way your throat tries to accommodate to his size. His deep groans, quite but effective, you feel yourself drip every single time he lets one out.

“Such a good girl, letting me train this throat” he says as he picks up the pace, loving the choked moans that leave you. “Don’t ya wish this was your little cunt getting fucked”. You wanted to scream yes but with your mouth being occupied, you quickly nod your head as you pull up Taking a gulp of air before back down. Your doe eyes staring back up into his, the eyeliner is really doing something to you.

The aching in your cunt was becoming too much to handle, second by second it was turning into pure agony, your cunt clenched around nothing and your clit throbbed. You quickly ran your hand down your tummy, slipping underneath your skirt and fishnets, fortunately no panties. You couldn’t help but let out the most slutty choked whine as your fingers came into contact with your swollen bud, circling the sweet bundle of nerves. His sultry words and grunts spurring you on.

“Use your fingers ya slut, can’t even resist from touching yourself. Dirty girl” Simon watches as your eyes squeeze shut as you fuck your fingers, your eyeliner running down your cheeks and your black lipstick smudged.

As Simon continued to have his way with your throat, you feel the heat rising, that familiar sensation bubbling in your gut. You need it, you yearn for it. Pathetically grinding away at your own hand, chasing that high, loving the way your throat is aching from being pounded into. Simons grunts now turning into soft whines, he always gets so subby when he’s about to cum. “Please please take me please pretty girl” he spurs on and on until he’s finishing down your throat, the warm saltiness over riding your senses. You feel the soft twitches of his final release before he lets you go, keeping a hand entwined in your hair to bring your lips to his. His tongue ramming down your already abused throat, like he’s craving to taste himself, softly moaning into your mouth.

You continue to pump your fingers into yourself, the unholy sounds of squelching fill the room mixed with your sweet sounds. God you’re so close, right there. Right there.

And that’s ripped from you as Simon’s hand meets your wrist, pulling your hand from your swollen cunt, you whine at the empty feeling. At the feeling of your high slowly dying out like a candle being blown out and the ache replacing that euphoric feeling.

“You’re cumming on my cock doll” he growls, pulling you up from the floor, your knees aching and red. Within a second you’re bent over the back of the couch, your skirt adorned with crosses pulled down and your fishnet tights ripped just enough to create a hole between your thighs. “Fucking look at ya, such a little slag for Me, not even wearing any panties. Just begging to be pounded hm?” Before you can reply, the wind is knocked from your lungs and your mouth falls agape. His cock filling you up, hitting that gooey spot inside that has your knees bending. You can’t even stop the filthy sounds that leave your lips, you sound like a right cock drunk whore.

“That’s it, open up for me, let me take what I own” he growls, slightly out of breath as he pounds you into the couch. Sure there’s gonna be a dent of you in it. You feel his hand wrap around your throat, pulling you against his back, hitting you deeper than imaginable. You’re made for him, nobody else will ever be able to make you feel this way. “You’re mine, ya hear that slut. Nobodies taking you away from me” all you can do is reply in a high pitched whine. The coil in your stomach finally tightening up again, it’s only a matter of time until it’s unraveling.

Just as if he reads your mind, his other hand coming down to rub small circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves “cum on your cock doll, this is yours, you own me” and that’s all it takes. His sinful words, his thick cock pumping you, fingers pressing on your clit. you feel like you’re on fire, like this is your heaven, where you belong. Your legs shake, pathetic whines turn into screams as you dig your fingernails into the cushions under you.

You feel Simon’s hand grip your throat as his hips stutter, a raspy whine leaving his throat as he bottoms out and fills your pussy full of his cum. You let your head fall forward as exhaustion consumes you, your legs feel like jelly and your puffy cunt already aches. “Such a good little cumslut ay” he hums as he rubs your back, chuckling at the sight of you folded over the back of your couch. All fucked out, cum dripping down your tights.

“A deals a deal doll face”

[llxferim]

a/n: first post! i have a lot of ideas rn so i’ll prolly post ton of fics and then make a small masterlist! please excuse my english, its not my first language😭. (this is not proofread) (this fic is actual shit😃)

pairing: Klaus Hargreeves x reader

Summary: after a long day with Diego, you go back to the Hargreeves mansion, only to find Klaus passed out drunk. you help him get cleaned up, as always.

Genre: fluff/comfort (maybe angst?)

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, Klaus is drunk or high or both, idk, gender neutral reader, no y/n used, he/they Klaus.

Word Count: 1.2k

You and Diego had been out looking for the Two people who kidnapped Klaus and murdered Patch to no avail. you gave up and returned to the mansion since it was getting dark. Diego dropped you off at the house, but he said he would keep looking for a little while and drove off.

you were worried about Klaus, getting kidnapped and tortured isn’t easy to deal with, even for him. everyone thinks since he is so unserious all the time, these things don’t bother him, but you were the closest thing to him growing up, and he is as emotional as a little kid.

you didn’t even have a chance to talk to him when he escaped the kidnappers, since Diego dragged you away right when he got back.

you open the front door to the Hargreeves mansion. it was dark and quiet, as always. so you thought everybody else was out doing god knows what.

you take off your coat, leaving the warmth behind with it and started walking to the bathroom to wash up and finally get some rest.

you were just about to open the door when your foot hit something- no someone, you look down to check, and there he was, with his smudged eyeliner and wet hair. “Klaus!?”

you crouched to his eye level, getting the hair out of his face “heyy it’s my favorite personn!” he slurred, you could hear how drunk he was. “How long have you been here? are you okay? where are the-“ you start panicking before a hand comes up to your mouth, silencing you. “too loud” he whispers.

“you reek of alcohol, Klaus. how much did you drink?” you say getting their hand off your mouth but forgetting to let go. “about.. 4” he blurts out “Four what, Klaus?” “bottles..” he says.

“fucking hell… come on” you say as you pinch the bridge of your nose. you put their left arm over your shoulders for support and pull him to his feet. “where are we going?” he groaned, the last thing he wanted right now was to walk. “we..” you let out a breath, he definitely wasn't lightweight. “..are going to clean you up”

“call out when you’re done” you say as you close the bathroom door behind you and sit down in the same spot Klaus was sitting minutes ago.

taking care of him after they relapsed or got too drunk wasn’t new to you. the others eventually got tired of him coming back to the house barely alive every night, that they stopped caring.

you never did though, you always took care of him, no matter how many times he came back high. you supported him when he was trying to stay clean, and comforted him when he relapsed. it was tiring, yes, but you cared about him, a lot.

you remember the day Reggie brought you from your parents, you were just 10 years old and scared shitless, your parents had just sold you to a strange man.

when you first arrived at the Umbrella Academy, everyone ignored you, they all had jobs to do.

but Klaus, with his big stupid smile, came up to you, and put his arm over your shoulder. “wanna see my room?”. it wasn’t really a question since he immediately started dragging you upstairs, supposedly to their room.

when Reggie forced you to practice your powers every night instead of sleeping, Klaus was the one that helped you. he slipped a sleeping pill in Reggie’s Coffee, giving you time to escape with him. after that, where there was Klaus, so were you.

after you all grew up, you and Klaus still stayed in touch but not as much as you did when you were kids, but, Reginald’s death brought you all back together.

“can you walk?” you asked Klaus, who was now dressed and clean, but still a little wobbly. “i think so” he replied but almost fell after taking the very first step. “okay, no i can’t walk” he groaned as he leaned onto you for support. “yeah, thought so. you’re like a toddler taking his first steps.” you chuckled. then, you feel a little pinch on your shoulder “hey! what was that for?” you protest “my misery is not funny!” they teased, trying his best to look angry. “oh, shut up” you muttered and pushed them a little with your hip.

You helped Klaus to his room, the door creaking open as you both stepped inside. The room, dimly lit by a bedside lamp, was a mess of discarded clothes and scattered posters that were supposed to be hanging on the wall.

Klaus staggered slightly, but you guided him to his bed, where he collapsed with a groan of relief. “oh, my sweet bed, how i have missed you” You sat down next to him, the weight of the day settling on your shoulders.

“are the others here?” you asked, your worry not quite fading. “no idea” Klaus replied, his voice muffled. “you didn’t even check if they were here? they could have helped you, you know” you said, frustration seeping into your voice. You still couldn’t shake the worry that something terrible might have happened.

“i’m fine aren’t i? you got here on time.” he sat up to face you. “Well, what if I hadn’t?” you countered. “You’re not immortal, Klaus! What would I have done if something happened to you?” hiding your face with your hands out of frustration.

Klaus’s eyes softened, and he reached out, gently pulling your hands away. “Hey, hey, I’m fine, okay? I’m sorry, I should have at least called someone. But I swear, I’m fine.” they tried to calm you down, if anyone, he was the one that could.

You felt your eyes tearing up. “Shit—” you tried to laugh it off and wipe away the tears, when suddenly you felt a pair of lips against yours. The kiss was soft and tentative at first, as if Klaus was unsure whether it was the right thing to do. But the warmth of his touch and the sincerity behind it made your heart race.

You hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the suddenness, but soon you melted into the kiss, your lips responding to his with equal tenderness. The world outside seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you.

then you pulled away, Klaus looked at your puzzled face “i’m, uh i’m sorry-“

But you cut him off with a reassuring smile. “No—no, don’t apologize.” You chuckled softly, your eyes sparkling with affection. “As much as I want to enjoy this moment, Klaus, you’re still drunk.”

Before you could say more, he suddenly pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you with warmth. The faint smell of alcohol lingered, but you didn’t mind.

“You still reek of alcohol, you know,” you teased, a playful grin on your face.

“Shut up,” Klaus murmured, his voice muffled against your shoulder. “We’re having a moment here.”

[hannahssimblr]

We surface eventually, and clamber down the back stairs and out into sharp morning light, squinting against the sun. I feel like a vampire. My friends’ faces are gaunt and drawn, eyes still black. They look like they’ve been dead for a week. 

Except Jen, sober Jen, who smiles sleepily and stretches her arms, breath condensing in the cold air. “God, that was mad,” she says. “What time is it?”

“Eight,” I say. Being out in the daylight like this is always weird, with families walking around, people going to work, while we are like creatures who have dug our way out of the earth, lurching toward home amongst the living. My mouth is so dry, and my jaw hurts. I foresee an afternoon spent throwing up, head in the toilet bowl, groaning as Jonas hammers on the door, appealing to my sense of humanity by reminding me there’s only one bathroom in the apartment.   

“Oh, well, I should probably pack my bags and stuff.” Jen says.

I rub my eyes. “Oh, your flight.”

“Oh, Jen,” Dalia says with a big sad face, “I wish you could stay,” they hug, and rock each other side to side. “Please, come back and visit. This was so fun.”

“I swear!” Jen says. “I love you guys. Come see me in Dublin!”

“Don’t make them go there,” I say, to which she laughs. “Actually, yeah. Never mind. I’ll come back here! And for longer!”

“Please!” Elias and Dalia cry in unison, and then we leave, trudging toward the train station. 

She snoozes on my shoulder on the U-Bahn, while Jonas and I, wired, wide awake, stare at our reflections in the window all the way back to Kreutzberg. 

I lie on my bed, eyes on the cracks on the ceiling, while Jen shoves things into her suitcase. She’s cleaned off all her makeup, leaving black smudged wiped crumpled on the surrounding floor. 

“This was so fun,” she’s saying. “I had such a good time. I mean, last night was amazing. Did you see I kissed that girl with the fan?”

“The fan?”

“Yeah, she was carrying this weird, lacy fan. Anyway, she was dead pretty. I wish I’d gotten her number.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I tried, but she didn’t speak English. There was no point.”

“So you didn’t speak before you starting kissing her.”

“No, we didn’t need to. I just met her eyes across the dancefloor and we both knew.”

“Ah, nice.”

The mattress shifts under her weight, and her face slides into my vision, pink cheeked, with eyeliner still smudged in the spaces between her lashes. “You’re coming down.”

“Yep.”

“Poor Judie. Rough day ahead.”

“Honestly, it’ll probably be a few days. A week, even.”

“Oof. Do you do this a lot?”

“Too much, probably.”

“Oh well,” she plonks back down to the rug and continues shoving things into her case. “At least I know you’re having fun over here. I’d be worried you’re suffering.”

“Do you worry about that?”

“Kind of.”

I laugh gently. “No, Jenny. I’m not suffering. Things are good.”

She struggles with the zip, and it rasps lowly against the bulk. “I was worried I wouldn’t like your friends, you know. I’m glad I met them, because they’re amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I wish they were my friends. Jonas is adorable. Elias too, so fun, and Dalia is probably the coolest girl I ever met in my life. I never got to ask her what part of America she comes from.”

“Pittsburgh.”

“I dunno where that is.”

“Nowhere close to where I grew up.”

“You sound different when you talk to her.”

Turning my head is an effort, and the room lurches a little. Later, I’ll probably be so dizzy that standing up feels like getting off the waltzers. “How so?”

“Your accent gets more American. Did you know that?”

“No.”

“Well, it does. I suppose when you’re talking to someone from the states you kind of copy what they’re doing, or something. It’s just funny, because you weren’t like that at home.”

“With dad?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s not like I really talk to him, is it?”

She pauses thoughtfully. “Well, I’ve heard you say ‘okay’ to him a few times.”

“Hm,” I say. “Well, maybe I’ll lose my Irish accent while I’m here.”

“Would you like to?”

I shrug. “Sure.”

I shut my eyes in the hopes it will stave off the wave of dizziness that comes over me. My temples throb gently with the onset of a headache. I half listen as Jen goes on about how great my friends are, Jonas, Elias, Dalia. Perhaps she’s hoping I won’t notice who she has left out, but she is wrong. 

“What did you think of Astrid?” I say, and she pauses, just for a beat, before answering with enormous enthusiasm. 

“Oh, she’s gorgeous. You were right. Even better in person than in the pictures.”

“Yeah.” I roll on my side. “She’s incredible looking, I know, but… like, did you like her?”

“Of course I did.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s so nice.”

I hesitate. Astrid isn’t that nice. At least it’s not a word I would use to describe her ahead of something like intelligent, confident, shrewd. Out of all the traits she has that I admire, I couldn’t say her niceness is something that sticks out. It’s not important to me, and I require it from her. Nice isn’t untrue, exactly, but it's not a real answer.

“Your opinion is really important to me,” I say, and she busies herself in her backpack, double checking for her phone charger and passport. 

“No, I mean it,” she says distractedly. “She seems to care a lot about you, and that’s the main thing, you know what I mean?”

On my elbow now, I look at her, pulling things out of her bag and shoving them back in, and my anxiety rises. I wanted our dinner to go a little better, sure, and they could have hit it off more than they did, but Astrid is Astrid. She’s a tough nut to crack at the first meeting. It takes a while for her to warm up, to get comfortable. She takes some getting used to. 

“I know things were a bit awkward there, when we were talking about school, and she didn’t have anything to say and all that.”

She waves this off. ‘No, it’s fine. She didn’t have to say anything. I was more worried about whether we were annoying her by talking about it so much.”

“I doubt it.”

“It’s alright, like, she doesn’t need to have the same humour as me.”

I frown. “Well, you and I have the same humour. In fact, we’re so alike that I thought you’d get along with her.”

“We got along.”

“But you weren’t bowled over.”

She sighs, “Jude, don’t make me talk myself into an awkward position.”

“I’m not doing that. I’m just wondering what you thought.”

“Yeah, but it’s like you’re not accepting my answer.”

“You haven’t answered.”

“I have. I said she’s nice.”

“Yeah, but like, ‘nice’ is a non-answer.”

“She’s not what I expected, right? But there’s nothing wrong with that. I just always thought you’d prefer to go out with a girl that laughed at the same things as you, or was silly and goofy, or, I don’t know, less… severe. I’ll meet Astrid again, and I’m sure I’ll be bowled over. We just didn’t have a lot of time to get to know each other. It was only a few hours, and, I dunno, Jonas was there too, and I was talking to him, mostly.”

“I–” I decide to ignore the first part about the girls I supposedly like. “Well, I hope so. I’d be pretty sad if my girlfriend and my best friend didn’t get along.”

“Everyone is friendly here.”

“Right.”

“I can tell you don’t believe me.”

I sigh reluctantly, and fall back onto the bed. My headache makes my brain slosh against the inside of my skull. “Jenny, I do. I believe you,” I say. “And I’m glad you like her. It’d be really fucking shit for me if you didn’t.”

“Well, I do.”

“I’m glad.”

“Good.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[x-on-the-calendar-business]

ryan ross iceberg explained (masterpost and tier 1)

tier 2, tier 3, tier 4, tier 5, tier 6, tier 7, tier 8

if somehow you have no idea how icebergs work/what they are, then i’ll give a tldr: it comes from the saying “it’s just the tip of the iceberg,” so basically, the entries at the top of the iceberg are the stuff the average person would know, and as you go deeper, the content becomes more obscure. for example, if you’re a more casual panic! fan, then a lot of the entries in the sky tier are more likely to be things you would know, whereas you’re probably only going to know the stuff at the very bottom if you’re an insane person (me).

i got most of the entries from this iceberg from a couple of others that i found on twitter, here and here [i]. i combined them, shifted some stuff around, and added some things to make this one. of course, a special thanks to the twitter users areyouIlooking and checkyesjuul for making the ones i used to create this one.

i also want to give a special shoutout to the tumblr blogs @pathetic-at-the-disco and @prettyoddfever because i got so much info from them for this iceberg and they are just incredible sources of information for panic! fans.

finally, i'm really hoping everything on this iceberg is correct; of course, i did my research and there was a lot of it i already knew. however, i was not actually there for presplit panic! so i can't speak off of firsthand accounts for a lot of things. with that being said, if something is wrong, or if there is something you think should be added, please feel free to let me know, and i will go back and edit the post.

enough introduction, let’s get started.

the sky (tier 1):

guitarist of panic!:

what he is most well known for. ryan was the original guitarist of panic! and one of the true founding members. he departed the band in 2009 with former bassist jon walker, which we’ll come back to later.

rosevest:

this refers to an iconic piece of clothing that ryan wore while they were touring their debut album, a fever you can’t sweat out. he wears it in live in denver as well.

(side note: the post i got this pic from is a very interesting look at their outfits from that tour so i would recommend checking it out here!) [ii]

good at makeup:

during the fever era, ryan was really well known for doing makeup looks, some elaborate. i’m inserting some examples here, but i’m also going to link a post that showcases more pics of the makeup looks he did. there are more that he did than just the ones shown in that post or here (like the god awful blue eyeshadow he did on that red carpet), and there were a lot of times he just did the classic black smudged eyeliner.

and the tumblr post as promised: the makeup styles ryan ross wore in summer 2006 [iii]

ryden:

oh boy, where do we even start with this one. there are actually going to be quite a bit of ryden references in this, but at the end i’ll link a masterpost for further reading (although most of it will be covered here). but to be keep it short and simple, ryden is the ship name for ryan ross and brendon urie. it was arguably one of the biggest ships in early 2000s bandom, as evidenced by the litany of fics written with them as a pairing. this ship (unfortunately) still lives on in people’s hearts today even though ryan and brendon don’t speak anymore.

also, i know it would seem to make more sense if their ship name was ryDON not ryDEN because of how brendon’s name is spelled, but the ship name comes from the mashing of their nicknames ryro and bden (which still doesn’t make any sense but i digress).

unfortunately, all of the ryden content on this iceberg will probably be long because i am a former rydennie (yes u can make fun of me for it go ahead) so i have a lot of knowledge on that ship. but trust me i know that ryden was not real.

“creative differences:”

this entry refers to the july 6th, 2009 split where ryan and jon left the band. the most cited reason for the split was musical differences, as stated in these interviews with brendon and spencer [iv]. however, most people believe the band actually split due to personal reasons since they basically all stopped speaking afterwards, and because of some comments jon made [v]. in fact, one MTV interview specifically singled out ryan and brendon as not getting along, but it has since been deleted [vi].

cheez wiz:

this references a clip from the pretty. odd. short-film called american valley [vii]. the video went viral circa 2015/2016 and became a huge meme in the bandom community, especially in the crankthatfrank yeemo fanbase (that sentence wasn’t in the bible). if you were a panic! fan during that time, you know the cheez wiz jokes were inescapable.

milk fic:

“ryan was kneeling in the bathtub…”

this is also unfortunate. to be blunt, this is a ryden fic in which brendon gives ryan an enema with milk. it catalyzed a trend of other shocking fics within the bandom sphere, such as the comb fic. it’s just cringy. sadly, it became so iconic that brendon knows about it and even made a vine referencing it [viii].

i would link it but i’m not going to because the author, druscila, is a pedophile. so there’s that.

onceler jokes:

i’m going to put a picture of the onceler, who is from the lorax, and ryan side by side. and that should explain this.

now let’s move on to the next tier.

tier 2

references:

[i] https://twitter.com/areyouiooking/status/1366887508441718790?s=46&t=srOJ3YueMMsx9_sm96odQQ, https://twitter.com/checkyesjuul/status/1368794897499615233?s=46&t=srOJ3YueMMsx9_sm96odQQ

[ii] https://prettyoddfever.tumblr.com/post/628882839458512896/panic-at-the-discos-2006-summer-tour-costumes

[iii] https://prettyoddfever.tumblr.com/post/629161631117656064/the-makeup-styles-ryan-ross-wore-in-summer-2006

[iv] https://patd.livejournal.com/2943372.html, https://patd.livejournal.com/2928377.html#cutid1

[v] https://oneweekoneband.tumblr.com/post/131968366779/jon-walker-and-ryan-ross-from-a-2009-interview-in

[vi] https://whisperdlullaby.livejournal.com/9051.html

[vii] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bBot_X9pquo

[viii] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dyWlisnfrm0

[currentfications]

Ocean Eyes | Part 5

Pairing: Bada Lee x Producer!Reader

Synopsis: Friends visited you at your side hustle

Warning: Swearing, Alcohol, Flirting, Suggestive?

AN: I’m finally no longer (as) sick~ Please enjoy this chapter written definitely not when I’m delirious. Thank you all again for reading ^_^

Previous | Next

You pulled up to the club right around dusk, eyeing the still-empty streets. Soon the place would be crawling with party goers and drunken crowd, but for the time being, a moment of calm before the storm. “Thank you for coming on such short notice,” the manager of the AMON welcomed you in warmly. “We didn’t even know who was able to fill in until you called. I was worried I’ll have to let my nephew sub in…” the man in suit and sleeked back hair trailed off as he darted his eyes towards one of the bartender, who looked suspiciously like he’s been drinking the stock.

You chuckled, “thanks for giving me the stage, I’ve been cooped up the the studio for too long - it’s good to get some fresh air.” Tying your hair up into a low pony tail, you unpacked your mixer and hooked your equipment onto the speakers skilfully while the manager frantically updated their DJ roster of the night on their social media. Noticing the frantic scramble, you squatted down to the manager beneath and sighed, “relax mate, it’s a Friday night.” You’re not sure if he’s just naturally skittish or was it because of the last minute changes. Nevertheless, you comforted the man who looks like he’s on the brink of tears, “I got the jams, you got the juice. It’ll be lit.”

Turning a few dials, you started the night off with some 90’s R&B, the swinging jams served as your inauguration into South Korean music scene. You took a quick selfie to commemorate the moment, tagging the anxiety ridden manager behind you and the club with in a short caption.

“Any drinks?” The manager quickly stopped by for one last check before the rush begun.

You nodded, “do you have Maraschino cherries? Two jars of those.” He gave you a funny look for the unconventional request, but needed the sugar - plus it’s not like you were going to accept alcohol or opened drinks from strangers in an unfamiliar setting. You thanked him as you accepted the two jars, checking that the seal was intact before popping a couple into your mouth.

Throughout the next few hours, you subtly increased the amount of bass and energy to your song mixes as more patrons flooded in. A few regulars have noticed that you’re not the intended DJ of the night, but we’re all pleasantly surprised by your set list, thoroughly enjoying themselves as the music and booze flows through them.

“Y/N I LOVE YOUUUUU!!” An excited scream pierced through the roaring party-goers, you lifted your protective ear muffs to see Latrice and a few other familiar faces in the crowd. You excitedly waved back, texting her the time for when your set finishes. She nodded and flashed two thumbs up at you, before turning and leading a small horde behind her towards the bar. You squinted to get a better look at the group, but the flashing lights (and your lack of glasses) proved the task to be difficult.

You tucked a lose strand of blue hair behind your ears, returning your focus to the last hour of your set. Feeding off the crowd’s energy and getting a grasp of the general population’s music taste, the drunken party-goers were all a little disappointed when you eventually handed over to the next DJ.

Leaving the bulk of your equipment on the stage, you pulled off your bulky sweatpants, leaving a minidress behind (a very handy life hack you learned from Ling: spaghetti strapped minidresses works great under sweatpants as a tank-top-when-working and skimpy-when-partying combo). Quickly reapplying a deep marron lipstick and smudging your eyeliner, you hopped off the stage to join the girls.

“Hey mama,” you tapped your best friend at her shoulder, “thank you for coming.”

Latrice snickered and handed you a drink, “of course I had to be here for your DJ virginity in Korea! It’s monumental.” The brunette paused for a moment and waited for you to take a few more sips before opening her mouth again, “there are a few others here, be nice.”

You nodded, curious to know who tagged along. Squinting at the faces, you started to regret that whole ‘you don’t need to see music to hear music’ logic you had when you decided to not put your contacts in earlier today.

Ling, ever the party animal, was the first to jumped into your arms. “God you look a-mazing,” she chirped, “that was a such a good set!”

You spotted the rest of the Jam Republic members and waved at them over the loud music, before landing your eyes on an all too familiar dancer.

“Hey lovely,” you greeted, leaning towards her over the thumping beat. “New hair colour?” Noticing her now grey streaks, you instinctively reached out to ruffle her hair a little. She’s dressed in her usual street wear attire, an oversized hoodie and a light washed jeans effortlessly bringing out her undeniable charisma.

Bada nodded, her mouth gaping slightly open noticing what you were wearing up close. Ling’s words don’t even begin to justify the sight of you. The little laced minidress hugged your figure, a few dozens of inked work decorating your legs and thighs; as you towered over her, she accidentally glanced down your bosom before quickly looked away, finding interest in the bottom of her drink.

Flirting in a loud environment is generally not your thing, but as you were about to attempt, another dancer caught your eyes and your face dropped. Bada chuckled as Latrice immediately stepped between you and the Mannequeen member.

“We are going dancing,” Latrice lead you away by the shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in forever since they handed you the keys,” the brunette complained as she pulled you towards the dance floor.

“And who’s fault was it?” You taunted, glaring at the direction of said fault, earning an eye roll from your friend.

“I said to be nice, didn’t I?” Latrice snickered, reminding you to act civil.

You rolled your eyes right back at her, mirroring the childish behaviour. “I was wondering why you needed me to be nice with Kirsten and Ling.”

Latrice laughed and finished her drink, you quickly finishing up yours to join her dancing. You’re of course no match to the professional dancer, however as a frequent member to the Latin clubs and an occasional Barcadi dancer, you can still hold your own in a club setting (and especially when substances are involved).

Tonight was an eventful night for Bada, as she watched your set for the first time, gawked at you in that skimpy little dress, and now shocked by the way you’re shaking ass and grinding up against Latrice. A odd feeling stirred up in her, and she couldn’t quite distinct if it was intoxication or jealousy.

Noticing the tall dancer’s lingering stare, Redlic inched closer towards the choreographer and proposed a strategy. “I say we both go get our girl back,” the shorter dancer suggested, her eyeing the brunette with the wide smile.

“I’m in,” Bada nodded with resolve, not liking the sinking feeling in her guts.

Taking a deep breath, Redlic took the lead and swooped in for the Queenslander. “Baby can we have this dance?” The platinum blonde dancer poured, batting her eyelashes at a beaming Latrice.

You feigned gagged at the sight, gently shoving Latrice towards her date, jokingly mouthing ‘traitor’ as they walked away.

“Can I have this dance?” Bada asked from behind you.

A smile tugged on the corner on your lips as you turned around, “collaborators, you two.”

Bada mockingly acted shock as she told you “Your accusation would have repercussions,” before challenging you to a dance off.

You took her hands and placed them around your neck before you lean forward to whisper in her ears, “challenge accepted.” You looked down at her in the flashing club lightning, and you could’ve swear you saw her flushing red. Chuckling at the effect you had on the famous choreographer, you teasingly wiggled your hips at her to the best of the music.

She bit her flushed lips unconsciously, gulping hard as she look at at you through her long lashes. When you did that little twerk, the devil on Bada’s shoulder won and she gently tugged on the nape of your hair with a firm grip. Your eyes widen in surprise as a mischievous smile took over Bada’s plump lips.

Bada’s face was inches away from your neck, and you can feel her warm breath on you as her breathing quickened. You locked gaze with the dancer as you wrapped your arms around her back. For a moment there the pounding music faded away, as you two contemplated if it was the lust or alcohol pulsing through your veins.

The tightening of her grip around your neck was a sign for you - as your grip on her hips was for her. You closed the distance between the two of you, and your lips met in a flurry of drunken daze and thirst-filled trance. Her lips supple as yours soft, you both eagerly indulged in the heated kiss. You felt a smirk forming on her lips before she muttered, “toilet?”

Tag list: @bada-lee-ily @lil-elliesgf @rubywonu @wiselight

[hypnoneghoul]

okay i know this is not a pairing you write/draw normally

but like… pretty mountain in… idk… rain‘s pretty clothes? hed look so pretty right? those long legs in tight pants or even short skirts… mountain is circling my brain since yesterday. some eyeshadow and eyeliner to make his eyes pop… yknow?

ohhh I for sure love me some good mountrain from time to time. also tagging @forlorn-crows cause i know u love them always heheh

760 words, feminization but not forced, babygirl mountain and sir rain, blow job but fade to black?

He couldn’t stop staring. Never could, Mountain too captivating of a sight, the heat in Rain’s gut made only hotter by the fact that clothes hugging the earth ghoul’s body were his. Mountain knew exactly what he was doing, having a specific goal in mind. Each and every one of his packmates had their own way of taking someone out of their head and this time he craved Rain’s personal brand. And after all these years together, he knew exactly what buttons to push.

Mountain had taken a long shower, shaving nearly his whole body, covering himself in a floral scented lotion, making his skin soft and shimmering. He’d used a dark eyeliner on the lashlines of his eyes, adding a bit of black but sparkly eyeshadow to blend it out, and topping it with a mascara. The one he’d known would leave pretty streaks on his cheeks when he’d start crying. He’d finished the look with a deep red lipstick, one that smudges. 

Like that—body wrapped in a fluffy robe, hiding the lingerie he’d also put on—he’d slinked into Rain’s bedroom, diving into his closet for one specific dress. Once he got it and put it on, Mountain laid himself out on the water ghoul’s bed, knowing that he should walk into it just–

“Mounty? What– Oh,” Rain stumbled over his words, taking in the image of the ghoul all dolled up and waiting for him. He cleared his throat, getting over the initial surprise, and went right to it. “I see my good girl has decided to pay me a visit, hm?”

Mountain didn’t speak, only blushing at Rain’s words even though he had expected them. Wanted them. 

“Yeah, she has,” the water ghoul smirked, stalking closer. “What do you need from me today, sweet girl?”

“Wanna– I wanna suck your cock,” the earth ghoul mumbled, shy all of a sudden. His eyes flashed, as if remembering something. “S– sir.”

“Good girl,” Rain praised and crawled over him on the bed, trapping Mountain’s much bigger form under him. It was truly amazing how Rain could make him feel so small and delicate. The water ghoul leaned down to drag his nose up Mountain’s neck, inhaling deeply his sweet scent.

“You’ll get it, baby,” he whispered into his ear before pulling away. “All dolled up and pretty for me. I bet you’re hiding something real nice under that dress of mine, too, yeah?”

Mountain nodded, swallowing thickly. He looked up at Rain through his lashes, accentuated by the mascara, and the water ghoul felt his rapidly chubbing up cock kick. He placed a hand just over the other’s knee and started slowly dragging it upwards, smirking at him shivering.

Soon enough he found delicate lace stretching over Mountain’s cock, damp already. “There it is. I’ll play with it later, but first…”

Rain straightened up, smiling at the earth ghoul’s blissed out expression, his pretty face, eyes as big as ever with the makeup, and his lips, all red and full. Rain opened his pants, just enough to pull out his dick, sighing as he loosely wrapped his hand around it. As soon as Mountain saw it, he started salivating, needing the water ghoul to shove his perfect cock into his mouth and down his throat.

Yet all Rain did was stroke himself slowly, up and down, twisting his hand at the head and letting out a soft sigh fall from his lips.

Mountain was hungry. “Sir, please.”

“Don’t you worry, babygirl. Just getting it all nice and hard for you.” With that he scooted forward, coming to straddle the earth ghoul’s chest instead of his legs. Mountain went cross eyed, not being able to look away from the cock just in front of his face, yet so far.

Rain cupped his cheek, thumb gently running over his cheekbone and Mountain barely managed to not lean into the touch with a purr. Instead, he let his tongue loll out of his mouth as both an invitation and a plea.

The water ghoul obliged, closing that last tiny bit of distance and laying the head of his cock on Mountain’s pink tongue. He moaned immediately when the taste of Rain’s pre hit him, eyes squeezing shut as he struggled against his need to swallow the whole shaft down right away.

“There we go, my good girl, so patient,” Rain cooed over him, running his fingers through the shiny auburn strands. “You’ve earned it, you can choke on it if you so wish.”

And, oh, did Mountain wish.