#The Silver Tongued Devil and I

[bobdylan-n-jonimitchell]

Kris Kristofferson “The Taker” featuring Joan Baez—The Silver Tongued Devil and I, July 1971.

[sixersigned]

@riiese SAID: "i do not wish to start here, but, truly, where else may I go?" (Ingvar, modern/gf verse, modified from here!)

Stanford had never seen anything like this before.

Gravity Falls is still so full of secrets, and doesn't he know it, first journal in hand and with three more left to come. These woods were alit with wonder, and this is, quite frankly, not an exception. The roads across the mountains were beaten and treacherous, a trainwreck waiting to happen. He'd heard legends about this before, some divine intervention saving townies and out-of-towners from certain death. A towering figure you'd be shocked to discover is nowhere to be found. At least people like Steve made themselves known—this one, however, is an enigma for the books! A little more introverted than the rest of the town's quirky residents.

Honestly, the author knew more about that than anything else. Sometimes solitude was better. People might misunderstand, or use you, and Stanford had never been fond of the idea of either. This is especially true for his newest acquaintance.

“ S'pose that's the mystery, “ he responds in defeat, a sombre look on his face. He glances around momentarily, as if searching for something, but his eyes never quite find it. “ How long has it been like this for you? “

[psilocybinaut]

Feeling a lot of fomo rn

I guess just feeling a lot

[unreadpoppy]

now that i'm actually playing the game, I feel like rewriting the whole damn fanfic

[peachdues]

That tengen picture unleashed something inside me-

His fingers knuckle deep inside while he listens to your symphony of moans..

After he's done he licks them clean but he isn't done, nights still young after all

bestie, we are on the same page. And because I’m feeling a certain type of way, enjoy this scene from Tengen’s upcoming installment of Tell Me to Stop

VIOLENT DELIGHTS — NSFW SNEEK PEEK

bodyguard!Tengen x Assassin!Reader • enemies to lovers AU

A/N: giggling and kicking my feet rn.

CW: explicit sexual content • MDNI • fingering • edging • Tengen referring to Reader as a villain (affectionate) • rough sex • alley sex

“You’re a bastard.” But the ferocity of your insult is weakened by the way your back arches against the rugged stone of the alley wall; how you widen your thighs, a soft moan vibrating on your lips as Uzui sinks another finger into your wet heat.

The silver-haired asssassin only smirks as he leans in, close enough that the slightest movement would mean his lips would brush against yours.

He stills, leaving less than a millimeter between your mouths.

“But I am yours,” his breath is sweet and warm as it fans over your face. “And I’ll make you mine, even if I die trying.”

It is difficult to focus on anything but the hand between your thighs, pushed down the front of your trousers that he’d hastily untied when he’d cornered you in this dark alleyway.

Thick. The Sound Assassin’s fingers are so gods’ damned thick. He’d had you whimpering from just one, sliding in and out of your honeyed warmth with ease, your damn body betraying your desperate hunger for his.

The presence of the second finger stroking along your inner walls with each languid push of his hand has you gritting your teeth as the pleasure he bestows becomes edged by the faintest hint of discomfort.

It is maddening, how easily your body gives into his cursed touch. So much so that it sinks into your skin, ignites an itch that grows more incessant with each heaving breath.

You seek to take out some of your frustrations on his mouth. You stretch up on your toes, biting back a whimper at the way the tension in your legs and the new arch in your body pushes those wretched fingers deeper into your body.

Your hand seizes the nape of his neck and tries to jerk him down toward you.

Uzui tenses for a moment, his eyes widening before his mouth settles into a smirk, and he pulls back.

Those damnable magenta eyes flash with amusement at your responding snarl as you try and pull him down again, all to no avail.

“If it’s my lips you desire, then you’ll have to beg for them, sweet devil.”

The rough cobblestone of the wall scrapes against your back as you push harder into him. Your fingers twist harshly in his hair and you yank his head forward. “Kiss me, you damn brute —“

Your legs spasm as Uzui crooks his fingers inside you until he’s pressing directly on that rough patch of flesh deep inside your innermost wall — the one that had made you sob as he’d bullied it with the thick head of his cock weeks ago, when you’d thrown him down and taken him under the stars.

“Ah ah,” Uzui tuts, and the smug set of his mouth threatens to boil your blood. “Beg nicely.”

The slow, torturous massage of his fingers against that damn spot forces a trickle of drool from the corner of your mouth. Your tongue grows far too swollen, you head far too fogged, to even try and form the request he seeks.

Uzui, it seems, does not care that his hand is fucking you into a dumb stupor.

“Is your pride so great that you cannot muster a simple ‘please?’” He jeers, his eyes flashing with both lust and challenge.

He smirks, revealing a row of pearly white teeth as your thighs begin to quiver around his hand, your inner walls fluttering around each measured stroke of his fingers.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re about to come, aren’t you?” And his grin widens at the way you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, desperate to hold in the soft, breathy moans he knows you want to make. “Yeah, you are.“

His fingers wrench cruelly out from between your legs, leaving you with nothing but the ache of a rapidly fading high. But before you can howl you protest, before you can curse his name and his mother for the insult of his birth, Uzui flips you around and slams you into the alley wall.

His hand forces space between your groin and the stone, and without warning, he plunges his fingers right back into your soaking heat, clenching heat.

The moan rumbling in your throat feels distant and foreign as your eyes roll back. Uzui resumes his messy, hurried movements as though he hadn’t broken pace to begin with, and soon, your legs are vibrating where they’re pressed against the wall.

A sharp prodding against your backside brings you back down to earth long enough to realize Uzui is grinding wantonly against you, the rotation of his hips matching each thrust of his fingers.

There is no where for you to go; no where to escape. Not when your front is mashed against the alley wall, pinned in place by the heavy, suffocating mass of the Sound Assasin at your back.

Uzui’s teeth catch the lobe of your ear. “I know you, my darling nemesis. I know your body better than my own.”

The rational part of you screams to bite back; to fight, to show him exactly how he doesn’t know you at all, and how he’s an idiot for believing otherwise. But then, Uzui adds a third finger inside you, and the resulting stretch and burn between your legs is nearly as great as it had been when you’d first impaled yourself on his cock, all those weeks ago.

It was a sensation you’d been chasing ever since, only to be bitterly disappointed upon realization that no tavern boy, no cocky palace sentinel, could ever compare to the sheer mass of the King’s closest guard.

Resigned, you brace one palm flat against the stone wall, willing the bite of the rock against your skin to keep you grounded even as the silver-haired guard’s fingers threaten to send you free falling from some internal ledge. The other grasps wildly behind you in search of him, clutching at his hip and pulling him closer.

Uzui groans his approval into the side of your head, and he allows his great weight to smother you against the wall as he leans forward.

“Do you think I could have forgotten how it feels to have you climax around me?” His thumb swirls that bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs as his fingers continue to pump steadily in and out of you. “Do you truly think I don’t spend my nights imagining you, perched atop me, using my cock the way you desire? That the memory of your face screwed up in pleasure — the feeling of your divine cunt wrapped around me — doesn’t haunt my every waking thought?”

He plunges his fingers inside you, all the way to his third knuckle. “You must answer for the torture you’ve inflicted, you cruel, wicked creature.”

You cry out right as Uzui strokes that inner spot once more, your hips twisting and grinding desperately against his hand as the thumb working your bead increases its pressure.

The bulge pressed right against your ass is rock-hard, and the thought of what lies beneath his trousers makes your mouth water.

The coil in your gut begins to tighten once more, this time more quickly than it had when you’d been facing him. Its pull is stronger, and the way his thick fingers keep grazing that sweet spot on your innermost wall all but guarantees you’ll be turned to liquid right there in that seedy alleyway.

You need his lips — otherwise, your screams will alert everyone within a fifty-meter vicinity of exactly how capable the Sound Assassin was of breaking you.

You try and warn him. “Uzui —“

“All you have to do, my sweetest torment, is beg.”

Your walls pulse violently around his fingers, a warning that you are mere seconds away from succumbing to brutal pleasure. Your hips begin moving on their own, grinding and checking desperately into his hand as the rough stone wall bites and scrapes against your exposed hips.

The need for him — for his lips — burns hot in your blood. It is maddening, this desire for his intimacy, and yet, try as you might, you cannot squash it.

You need it — need his kiss, need him to consume you whole.

“T-Tengen.” It slips out before you can stop it, your mouth forming the syllables with a startling ease.

Behind you, the Sound Assassin freezes, his hand stilling its maddening exploration of your core.

Never before had you called him by his given name; normally, you were in the habit of calling him every derogatory insult under the sun. At best, you’d called him Uzui.

Though you are turned away from him, you can feel the shift in him; the dark lust that settles over him, clouds whatever common sense he claimed to possess, replacing it with base need.

“That counts,” he growls in reply, and then the hand between your thighs resumes its task with more vigor than before, which the other snares in your hair and wrenches your head back.

The strain in your throat amplifies as Uzui roughly claims your mouth with his. He does not bother to wait for your permission before deepening the kiss; instead, he only tightens in hold in your hair, forcing you to gasp into him. The moment your lips part, his tongue sweeps past, branding you with each lick at the roof of your mouth.

You suppose it’s a good thing Uzui has smothered your moans with his feverish lips and demanding tongue. For the second his hand pulls away from between your legs, right as you’re on the precipice of cumming to pull that thick, monstrous length of his free from his trousers, you surely would’ve cried out in protest.

And that wicked mouth of his also manages to swallow the scream of pleasure that follows as Uzui enters you in a single, deep plunge, as well as your subsequent groan as you climax around him, just as he begins roughly fucking you against the alley wall.

[misaerabl]

Idle Hands Are The Devil's Workshop

perfect little housewife? think again

Mechanic Vi X Housewife Reader SUMMARY: Left waiting for your husband yet again, an unexpected visitor changes everything. Vi, the captivating mechanic with a silver tongue and lingering gaze, sees right through your facade of loyalty and perfection. What begins as harmless banter becomes an irresistible game of tension, desire, and forbidden indulgence. Will you resist, or give in to the fire she's ignited within you? WARNINGS: r is married to a man so... cheating, poorly written accent, fingering (r!receiving), oral sex (r!recieving) A/N: guys I was highkey kicking and giggling while i was writing this (yes i am aware the cover pic is shit, i got frustrated while browsing on pinterest cuz it isn't giving me what i wanted)

MINORS AND MEN DNI / word count: 4k

The rhythmic hum of the air conditioner filled the otherwise quiet room as you perched on the edge of the couch, nervously glancing at Vi—the mechanic your husband had called for his car. She leaned back, relaxed and confident, in her worn denim overalls, the grease stains on her hands a stark contrast to her teasing smirk. You weren't sure why your pulse raced every time her sharp blue eyes flicked your way.

Your husband had called to say he’d be back soon and insisted that Vi wait before touching the car. "Don’t meddle with anything," he had said firmly, a phrase that echoed in your mind like a reprimand. So instead, here you were, trying to make small talk with the stranger who seemed more comfortable in your living room than you were.

"Can I get you something to drink?" you offered after a beat of awkward silence.

"Sure, darlin'," Vi said, flashing a grin. "Whatever you're havin'."

You returned with two glasses of water, placing hers on the coffee table. As you bent slightly, her voice cut through the quiet like a whip.

"Oh, I'm likin' the view," she said casually.

"What?" you asked, standing back up, oblivious.

"Nothin', darlin’," she replied with a wink, leaning back further into the couch. Her gaze lingered, warm and unrelenting, and you felt the heat creep up your neck.

Fate—or clumsiness—decided to intervene just then as the glass in your hand slipped, shattering the quiet with a soft thud on the carpet. You knelt down quickly to pick it up, hoping to salvage some dignity, but the red-haired girl let out a low whistle.

"You sure you're not doin' that on purpose, dear?" she asked, voice dripping with amusement.

"Doing what?" you shot back, glancing up at her through your lashes.

"Dunno, darlin’. Just look at you, bendin' down like that," she teased, her smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Her eyes seemed darker now, the playful edge to her tone setting your nerves alight.

Her next words were softer, but they hit you squarely in the chest. "Pardon me for starin', hard not to look when you're this gorgeous."

"I—" you stammered, words caught somewhere between your throat and your racing thoughts.

"Look at you, gettin' all tongue-tied for me," she murmured, her smirk widening. "You're cute, y'know that?"

Something shifted inside you then, something you hadn't realized you'd been missing. The warmth in her gaze, the way her words wrapped around you like a soft blanket, made your chest tighten. You straightened up, suddenly feeling bold.

"Why?" you asked coyly, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You like starin' at me like this?"

Her chuckle was low and intimate, her eyes meeting yours without hesitation. "Yeah, I do. You got a problem with it?"

You shook your head, your voice softer now. "No... it's nice to be appreciated for once."

Vi leaned forward slightly, her forearms resting on her knees as she studied you. "Yeah? I bet it's tough, ain't it?" Her tone was casual, but her eyes spoke of something deeper, sharper. "He just doesn’t seem to… appreciate you enough… is that it?"

You hesitated, your throat dry as her words hung heavy in the air. "He's... busy," you managed to say, though the truth felt flimsy even to your ears.

Her smirk deepened, her gaze unwavering. "Busy at work?" she asked, though the way she said it made the word "work" sound like a flimsy excuse. "Or... with someone else?"

The suggestion made your stomach twist uncomfortably, and you quickly shook your head. "W-with work," you replied, clinging to the belief—or maybe the illusion—you’d told yourself so many times.

Vi’s eyes softened, though the teasing lilt in her voice remained. "You really believe that, don’t you, darlin’?" There was something both infuriating and comforting about the way she saw through you so effortlessly, her words brushing against truths you weren’t ready to face.

You didn’t reply, your silence speaking louder than words. She leaned back against the couch again, her smirk fading into something softer, though her eyes never left yours.

"Well," she said finally, her voice low and warm, "if he’s too busy to notice what he’s got, maybe he doesn’t deserve it."

You felt your cheeks burn under her gaze, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to bask in the attention. It wasn’t just the way she looked at you, but the way she saw you, as though every part of you was worthy of being noticed.

Vi grinned, shaking her head slowly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I’ve got a pretty good idea what he’d rather be busy with," she said, her gaze fixed on you.

Your brow furrowed. "And what is that?"

Her eyes traveled over you, slow and deliberate, before her smirk deepened. "I’ll tell you what he’s not busy with..." she teased, leaning forward slightly. "He’s not busy with you, that’s for damn sure."

You opened your mouth to protest, but her words lingered in the air, heavy and unsettling.

"A pretty thing like you," The mechanic continued, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe it. "And he’s out there, ‘busy with work,’ instead of spendin’ time with you?"

"Th-that’s not true," you stammered, though your voice wavered. "H-he tries."

Vi tilted her head, studying you again, her sharp gaze cutting through every excuse you had. "Does he? Really?" she drawled, her voice dripping with skepticism. "He tries so hard, but not hard enough to be here with you now, huh?"

You hesitated, clutching the fabric of your skirt. "He… he provides for me. That’s enough."

Her smirk faded slightly, her expression softening. For a moment, there was something unreadable in her eyes—pity, perhaps, or understanding. "That all you want? Just to be provided for?"

"What else can a girl ask for?" you said quietly, your voice brittle.

She leaned back, her mouth hanging open just enough to make you squirm under her gaze. Then she closed it, a small shake of her head punctuating her disbelief. "You’re okay with just bein’ a housewife? Not even a little lonely?"

You swallowed hard, her words striking a chord you didn’t want to acknowledge. "Well… I do get a bit lonely," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Vi’s eyes softened, though her teasing tone remained. "That’s what I thought," she said, nodding slowly. "A gorgeous thing like you, cooped up in this house all day… while your husband’s off workin’. And when he does come home, he doesn’t even notice you, huh?"

You looked away, feeling the heat creep up your neck again. "He notices me," you said, though even you didn’t believe it. "He loves me. At the end of the day, it’s our bed he comes home to."

The red-haired girl’s smirk returned, wider than before. "That so?" she asked, her voice low, almost mocking. "You really believe that even when he leaves you here all alone for hours? Neglects you like this?"

Her words stung, and you sank back into the couch, shifting uncomfortably under her gaze. Violet watched you intently, the corner of her mouth twitching as if she knew exactly what you were thinking.

"Somethin’ wrong, darlin’?" she asked, her voice dripping with false innocence.

"N-no, I’m fine," you muttered, glancing at the clock. "I’m sorry he’s taking so long. He should’ve been back by now."

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her grin playful but edged with something more dangerous. "A little late?" she teased. "Darlin’, he’s half an hour late. And he’s left me all alone here with you… a pretty little thing like you."

You tensed, unsure how to respond, and she chuckled, lounging back against the sofa. "I’m startin’ to think he’s doin’ this on purpose. Maybe he wants us to… get to know each other better."

"He wouldn’t do that," you said, your voice firmer this time.

Vi’s smirk widened as she leaned her head against the couch, her sharp green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe not. Or maybe…" she drawled, her voice dropping lower, "it’s fate. The universe, or God, or whatever… givin’ us this little moment together."

You frowned, your curiosity piqued despite yourself. "What are you talking about?"

Her gaze flicked over you again, her smirk softening into something more deliberate. "Maybe it’s a sign. You, me, all alone in this house..." She shrugged, her grin widening. "Seems like we’re meant to have a little fun."

"Fun?" you asked, your heart racing as her words lingered in the air between you. "What kind of fun?"

Vi leaned forward slightly, her smirk never faltering. "The kind that makes you forget all about that lonely bed of yours," she said, her voice smooth as honey. "The kind of fun that might remind you what it feels like to be really noticed."

Your breath hitched, her words settling in your chest like a spark. She didn’t press further, didn’t push. She just watched you, her smirk fading into a soft, knowing smile as if she were giving you a choice. One that was entirely up to you.

It would be a complete and total lie to say you weren’t interested in her offer. The way she spoke, the smooth, teasing lilt of her voice—it sent a shiver down your spine, leaving you dizzy. God, the way her eyes lingered on you, unapologetic and hungry. It wasn’t just flattering; it made you feel seen. Desired in a way you hadn’t felt in years. But you were supposed to be a good, loyal wife… right?

You shifted uncomfortably, your hands twisting in your lap as you tried to steady yourself. "I—I don’t think this is appropriate," you stammered, but even as the words left your mouth, you knew how hollow they sounded.

The mechanic chuckled, leaning back casually, her arm draped along the back of the couch. "Appropriate?" she repeated, her tone mocking but not unkind. "Darlin’, if anyone’s being inappropriate, it’s your husband leavin’ you all alone with someone like me."

You glanced toward the clock again, your heart racing. Thirty-five minutes. It shouldn’t be taking him this long. Should it?

She tilted her head, her sharp gaze catching your hesitation. "You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to," she said, her voice softening, though the teasing grin still lingered. "But I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t enjoyin’ your company."

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, you looked at her—really looked at her. The way she lounged so confidently, her fingers tracing patterns along the edge of the couch as if she owned the place. The faint grease stains on her hands, the sleeves of her jumpsuit pushed up to reveal big, toned arms. She caught your gaze and smirked, her eyes dancing with amusement.

"You’re thinkin’ about it, aren’t you?" she asked, her voice low, pulling you back into the moment.

"I—no, I’m not," you said quickly, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.

She laughed softly, leaning forward again, her elbows resting on her knees as she fixed you with a knowing stare. "You’re cute when you lie," she murmured. "But darlin’, you don’t have to. Not with me."

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, the sincerity in her voice cutting through the tension in the room. You felt your resolve wavering, the weight of loneliness and neglect creeping in like a tide you couldn’t hold back. How long had it been since someone looked at you the way Violet was looking at you now? Since someone made you feel like you mattered?

"I’m married," you said, more to remind yourself than her.

Vi’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it softened into something almost... tender. "I know, darlin’," she said simply. "But I also know what it feels like to be married to someone who forgets what they’ve got."

Her words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken truths weaving between them. She didn’t move closer, didn’t push further. She just sat there, waiting. Letting you decide.

And God, you didn’t know what you were going to choose.

You gave in. The nagging voice in the back of your mind that whispered about loyalty, about your vows, was drowned out by the roar of your own desire. You crawled over to her, moving slowly, deliberately, until you were perched on your knees before her. Violet's eyes darted to your chest as your body leaned forward, her gaze warm and unapologetically lingering.

One hand propped you up on the couch cushion, your weight balanced just inches from her, while the other rested on the back of the sofa, grazing the fabric near her shoulder. The air between you felt electric, charged with tension as your faces hovered centimeters apart.

Her lips curled into that familiar smirk, but there was something more in her expression now-triumph. She had won. She had you, and she knew it.

Her voice came soft, low, dripping with satisfaction. "I knew you couldn't resist me, darlin'."

You swallowed hard, your breath shaky as her words rolled over you like velvet. Your eyes locked on hers, wide and unsure, but your body betrayed your hesitation, leaning just a little closer. Close enough to feel her breath brush against your skin.

"You're gorgeous, you know that?" Vi whispered, her hand moving to brush a strand of hair from your face. Her touch was featherlight but set your skin aflame. "Shouldn't have to go a day without hearin' that."

"Vi," you murmured, her name falling from your lips as if it had been waiting there all along.

"Shh," she hushed softly, her other hand finding its way to your waist, pulling you just a fraction closer. Her grip was firm but not forceful, grounding you in the moment. "I'll take good care of you, sweetheart. Better than he ever could."

And then her lips brushed against yours, hesitant at first, testing the waters. But when you didn't pull away-when you leaned into her instead-the kiss deepened. It was slow and deliberate, her lips moving with a confidence that left you breathless.

You melted into her, every touch, every sound pulling you further away from the guilt and into something that felt forbidden but intoxicatingly right. For once, you felt like you were wanted, craved, adored.

You both pulled away, breathless, your chest rising and falling as if you’d just run a marathon. Your body felt weightless, every nerve tingling as though set alight. It was just a kiss. Just a kiss, you reminded yourself—but it didn’t feel that way.

You were a married woman, bound by vows and promises, so why was your heart racing, your thoughts spiraling over her? Over this mechanic—this maddeningly gorgeous, confident mechanic—who saw you in a way that no one else had in years. She didn’t just look at you; she saw you. And right now, you felt like the most desirable woman alive.

There was no holding back now—no reason, no restraint. The moment hung heavy between you both before you closed the distance again, surprising her as your lips sought hers with a newfound hunger. It was almost instinctual, a craving buried deep and left unsatisfied for far too long.

She let out a quiet, pleased sound against your mouth, her hands steadying you as if she’d expected this all along. The kiss was different this time—more urgent, more desperate, like years of longing spilling out in one electric moment. You hadn’t felt this alive in what felt like forever, and every brush of her lips against yours left you trembling, wanting more.

The mechanic pulled back just slightly, her hands framing your face with a touch that felt both possessive and gentle. Her thumb brushed over your kiss-swollen lips, lingering as her eyes searched yours. “You sure you want this?” she murmured, her voice thick with a teasing edge that only made your stomach churn with frustration.

Why would she ask that? After everything she’d said and done, after the way she made you feel like the most irresistible woman alive, she had the nerve to ask if you wanted this? A flicker of indignation burned through you, and without a word, you closed the gap again, your lips crashing onto hers with renewed fervor.

Her breath hitched at the sudden intensity, a soft gasp escaping before she melted into you completely. That was your answer—clear, undeniable. You wanted this. More than anything, more than you’d let yourself admit until now.

Pulling back just enough to catch your breath, you bit your lip, gazing at her with a look that could only be described as desperate—a silent plea for more. That infuriatingly perfect smirk spread across her face, the kind that made your knees weak and your thoughts hazy.

She leaned in, her hand sliding up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head slightly to expose the delicate curve of your neck. Her lips brushed against your skin, planting soft, deliberate kisses along your jawline. Each touch sent shivers down your spine. Slowly, she trailed down your neck, her warm breath teasing you, before moving lower, grazing the sensitive skin of your collarbone with her lips.

Her actions were enough to make your panties soaked. God. The thought slipped unbidden into your mind as a soft moan escaped your lips, your head falling back instinctively to grant her more access. Her lips explored your skin with a hunger that sent fire coursing through your veins. Had your husband ever made you feel like this? Ever? The answer burned in your chest, but the question lingered, impossible to ignore.

Soon, she had you pinned beneath her on the very couch you and your husband had chosen together. The memory flickered in your mind—how the two of you had argued over it. He’d hated the design, but you had loved it. In the end, he’d relented, though grudgingly, only giving in after you’d caught him at that diner near his office. The image was still vivid: him laughing with his secretary while you stood there, clutching the lunch you’d made for him, your heart sinking. He had claimed it was nothing, but the bitterness lingered, just like the victory of getting this couch—a small, hollow consolation. 

Arching your back slightly off the couch, you gave her access to the zipper of your dress. Your eyes met, and a small, knowing smile passed between you. What. The. Fuck. This was really happening. The remorse, the regret, the doubt—they all dissolved into nothing the moment her fingers found the zipper and slowly pulled it down, the sound punctuating the charged silence between you.

You guided the straps of your dress down your shoulders, allowing it to slip lower, revealing more of your skin with each movement. Her eyes never left you, a hungry gleam in them as she took in the sight. A slow, appreciative smile spread across her face as she licked her lips. “Darlin’, you’re absolutely stunning,” she murmured, her voice low and taunting. “Your damn husband should’ve known better than to let someone like you slip through his fingers.”

With deliberate slowness, she eased your dress off, her lips trailing kisses across your skin as it slipped lower. Each kiss ignited a fire within you, her touch sending shivers down your spine. When the fabric reached your waist, she paused, looking up at you with an almost questioning gaze, as if silently asking for permission. You met her eyes, your breath catching, and nodded, the silent agreement hanging between you both.

That was all it took for Vi. She had you—completely, undeniably. There was no turning back now.

In one swift motion, your panties were at your knees, and Vi could barely mutter a breathless “God.” The red-haired girl was completely captivated by you, her gaze hungry and full of admiration. You felt like royalty—like a goddess—under the way she looked at you. In that moment, the sting of neglect from your husband felt like a distant memory, replaced by the undeniable warmth of being truly seen, appreciated. How could he have ever been so blind to you? Vi, in this moment, made you feel like you were everything.

“I��m gonna make you feel so good”

And she was right. 

Both of your clothes were discarded on the floor, her overalls, your dress. Her face was between your thighs, her tongue relishing you. You tried to keep quiet, you really did—after all, the neighbors weren’t used to such a scene, considering how ‘busy’ your husband always is and how rarely (or lets face it, never) the two of you do this. Oh god they’re gonna be so suspicious if they hear your pornographic moans. 

“Don’t-” Your moan cut off your own sentence. “God d-don’t stop���” 

You could feel her smile as she continued to absolutely ravish you. 

And if this couldn’t get any better, she started to pump her fingers inside you making you scream in pleasure. She could see the desperation in your eyes—this beautiful, neglected woman, left wanting by a husband who clearly didn’t understand the treasure he had. Well, if he couldn’t see your worth, Vi would. She’d remind you of every inch of it, make you feel it down to your bones, until there wasn’t a doubt left in your mind.

She made her way back up, her lips trailing gentle, featherlight kisses along your neck, each touch igniting a fire beneath your skin as her hand circled your clit.  

Your fingers threaded through her red hair, gripping softly as she moved, each motion sending sparks through your veins, leaving you utterly breathless, pulling her closer as if you could meld your bodies together. Every nerve ending was alight, your skin flushed and tingling. Vi's ministrations were relentless, building you higher and higher.

"Please," you whimpered, not even sure what you were begging for. More? Release? For this moment to never end?

She captured your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans as her fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot. Your hips bucked against her hand, chasing that exquisite friction.

Her fingers pumped harder, hitting you in that spot that made your body quiver. “He doesn’t fucking deserve you…” she whispered, her words sent a shiver down your spine, intensifying the pleasure coursing through your body. You arched into her touch, desperate for more.

Vi's fingers continued their relentless assault on your most sensitive areas, her touch electric and all-consuming. Her lips trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, occasionally nipping at the soft flesh, leaving a trail of reddening marks in her wake."That's it, baby," she purred against your skin, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "Let me hear how good I make you feel."

Her thumb circled your clit with increasing pressure, matching the rhythm of her pumping fingers. The lewd, wet sounds of her ministrations filled the room, mixing with your breathless moans and whimpers.

Vi's free hand cupped your breast, kneading the soft flesh before pinching and rolling your hardened nipple between her fingers. The dual sensation sent jolts of pleasure straight to your core, your walls clenching around her fingers. "Fuck, you're so wet," Vi groaned, her own arousal evident in her husky voice. "So fucking beautiful like this, spread out for me, taking my fingers so well."

Your hips bucked wildly against her hand, chasing that elusive peak. Vi's movements became more focused, more intense, driving you closer and closer to the edge. "Come on, sweetheart,"

Vi's intense gaze locked with yours, her blue eyes dark with desire as she continued her sensual assault on your body. Her fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot with each thrust, while her thumb worked your clit in tight, rapid circles. 

"That's it, gorgeous," she purred, her voice low and husky. "Let go for me. Show me how good I make you feel."

Your body tensed, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Vi leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "Come for me, darlin’. Let the whole neighborhood hear how well I fuck you."

With those words, you shattered. A loud, keening moan tearing from your throat as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your pussy clenched rhythmically around Vi's fingers, your thighs trembling as she worked you through your intense orgasm.

Vi didn't let up, her fingers still pumping inside you, prolonging your pleasure."That's it, fuck... you're so goddamn beautiful when you come," she groaned, her own breathing ragged with arousal.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you, Vi slowly withdrew her fingers, bringing them to her lips.

The air was still heavy, saturated with the heat Vi had left in her wake. Your body trembled, your skin still buzzing, every nerve alive as though she had reached into you and pulled something free—something long buried, something you didn’t realize you’d missed so desperately.

Vi’s breath was warm against your ear, her voice soft but dripping with intent. “You feel that, darlin’?” she murmured, lips brushing the sensitive skin of your ear. “You ever felt anything like that before?”

Your chest rose and fell unevenly, her words slipping through the cracks in your resolve. “N-no,” you stammered, the confession barely audible. “Never.”

The corner of her mouth curved into a knowing smirk, one that sent another shiver down your spine. “Didn’t think so,” she teased, brushing her fingers through your hair. Her touch was so tender, so deliberate. “Bet your husband’s never made you feel this good. Not once.”

Your breath hitched as she tilted your chin up, forcing your gaze into hers. The look she gave you was dark and unwavering—desire, devotion, and something that promised this wasn’t a mistake. “I’ll show you, sweetheart. I’ll do anything to make you feel like this again.”

And you believed her. You believed every word.

A hard knock at the door shattered the moment like glass. You froze, muscles locking, the haze of Vi’s touch snapping into panic.

“Why the hell is the door locked?!” your husband’s voice barked from the other side.

Vi pulled back quickly, the teasing fire in her eyes replaced by sharp urgency. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath, her body already moving as her gaze swept the room. You scrambled up, heart pounding as adrenaline coursed through you, twisting into something nauseating.

Your dress was crumpled on the floor. You grabbed it with shaking hands, tugging it over your head as Vi threw her overalls back on in a rush, the straps haphazardly fastened across her shoulders.

“He’s going to know.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, barely louder than a whisper. Your fingers fumbled with the zipper at the back of your dress, your pulse deafening in your ears.

Vi’s hands found your shoulders for just a moment, grounding you. “He won’t,” she said firmly, her voice low but steady. “Just breathe, alright?”

The banging on the door grew louder, rattling the frame. “Open the damn door!”

You shot Vi a panicked glance, but she was already stepping back, smoothing her hair with practiced nonchalance. Her overalls weren’t perfect—one strap still hung loose—but somehow she managed to look calm, like she belonged here, like nothing at all had happened.

You forced your trembling hands to undo the lock and cracked the door open, just enough to meet your husband’s glare. He pushed the door the rest of the way with a frustrated hand, his eyes narrowing as they landed on you—then on Vi.

His expression twisted, confusion flickering behind the anger. “Why the hell was the door locked?”

Vi leaned casually against the arm of the couch, one hand tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Sorry about that,” she said smoothly, her tone as unbothered as ever. “Guess I must’ve bumped the lock while we were talkin’ repairs. Didn’t even notice.”

Your husband’s gaze lingered on her, suspicion flickering briefly before shifting back to you. You stood there, fingers gripping the skirt of your dress, willing yourself to look anywhere but guilty. The tension was thick, suffocating, but Vi held steady, her presence unshakable, like she owned the room.

After what felt like an eternity, your husband let out a small huff, shaking his head. “Well? Did you get it figured out?”

Vi’s lips curved into a small, polite smile. “Just about. Should have everything up and running again soon.”

He muttered something under his breath before turning back to you. “We’ll talk later,” he said, his voice clipped as he walked off, leaving the door ajar behind him.

The moment he disappeared down the hall, you exhaled shakily, your chest tight as you turned back to Vi. She was still leaning casually against the couch, one brow quirked, her lips tugged into a smirk.

“Told ya,” she murmured, her voice soft as she pushed herself off the couch and crossed to stand in front of you. Her fingers brushed your arm, just enough to send that familiar spark through you. “You’re alright, darlin’. Promise.”

But even as her words tried to steady you, the memory of her voice echoed louder in your head: I’ll do anything to make you feel like this again.

[scarletlizzard]

Inked Desires - Part 2

Read Part 1 right here

Summary: After your one night stand with a stranger turns into a regular hookup, feelings begin to develop between you and Natasha. A night out at the bar with your friends has her begging wanting more with you.

Pairing: gp!Natasha x fem!Reader

Tags MINORS DNI: natasha has a dick, buff out this world & covered with tats and piercings, little bit of yearning and pining, mentions of alcohol, smut, blowjob, unprotected sex, breeding, begging, miscommunication

Masterlist

A/N: Part 1 blew up like crazy! I never ever thought I would EVER get that many notes. Especially for, essentially, a smut piece I wasn't used to writing. After being asked a few times, I agreed to make a part 2, buuut I've been in a (bad) writing rut lately. So I wanna shout out the person who gave me so many good ideas and an actual plot to work with. Y'all can thank just her for there actually being a part 2 cause there almost wasn't one 🙏 Thanks for helping, kisses for your big brilliant brain.

Hopefully, she and y'all like it? It's a bit longer. Let me know what you think, please, and thank you thank you so much for reading 💞

That being said, there will be a part 3 😄

"Split? Like down the middle?" Kate asks with a look of shock on her face. You walk in step beside her along the concrete path on campus.

"Right down the middle," you laugh and adjust the bag on your shoulder, thinking back to just a few days ago when Natashas skillful tongue worked its magic on your body. Your cheeks heat up at the memory.

That first night you met, Natasha had given you a kiss goodbye and gave you her number before you took a very drunk Kate Bishop home. Since then you had seen the redhead multiple times over the course of the last few weeks. Neither of you seemed to be able to keep your hands off of each other. Each time you met it was for sex, and even the time she had taken you to dinner it ended with you getting fucked into her mattress again.

You knew the basics about each other, where you lived, eachothers jobs... the more you thought about it the more it upset you. The physical level the two of you were on was heavenly, but really, well, you barely knew her.

Kates voice interrupts your thoughts as you enter the English building, and you stop walking as she does.

"What was that?" You ask, looking to the smirk plastered on her face with curiosity.

"I said, speak of the devil," she chuckles and nods her head in the direction of a very tall Natasha striding your way. "See you in there," Kate says and walks into the classroom, leaving you in the hallway.

You want to drown in the sight of her, wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt with old, dirty vans on her feet. You smile, trying not to drool at the way you can see the pops of color show from underneath her shirt or the way the sleeves seem too tight against her biceps as she grips the strap of her backpack.

"Hey there..." Natasha greets you with a smile, head pointing down as she stills before you. "Been a few days, haven't heard from you," she adds, her eyes baring into yours. You want to slap yourself for not replying to her text by the almost hurt look in her eyes.

"Well it hasn't even been a week, you miss me already?" You ask her with a little tilt of your head up at her, biting your lip as you see a blush spread across her cheeks. Her hand moves to the side of her neck, scratching at the ink awkwardly.

"No, no. Wait, I mean -" She lets out a sigh and shakes her head as you giggle at her. It was interesting, the difference in her appearance verses this nervous demeanor. "Maybe I did?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, the silver ring lifting higher.

"I might have missed you too," you shrug casually and watch as her face eases back into a smile. "I'm sorry I haven't texted, I've just been so busy with school and work." You point to the classroom next to you that Kate had entered. She follows the direction and nods.

"No worries, you're a busy lady. I actually took Mr. Furys class last year. Maybe I could take you for a coffee and give you some tips? Or maybe just um, talk?" Natasha asks, her tone quiet as she looks down to you.

You smile at the sincerity in her eyes. "I'm free after this class?" You take a step back, towards the room and match the wide smile on her lips.

"Sounds perfect," Natasha nods, and you can't ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest. Instead of taking another step away you walk forward, leaning up on your tip toes to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

Natasha can feel the burn on her cheeks, the affect you had on her drove her wild. You lean back and smile at her flustered state, leaving her alone in the now empty hallway.

An hour and a half later, you emerge from the classroom, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around at the sight of Natasha sitting on the floor. She had a book in her hand, closing it the moment she saw you and Kate walking towards her.

"Have you been sitting there this whole time?" You ask and tilt your head, watching the way her muscles flex as she runs a hand through her auburn hair.

"Uh, maybe?" A small blush hints on her cheeks, and she smiles at you and your friend. "I'm Natasha, by the way," she says and holds out her hand in front of Kate.

Kate chuckles at the formality, and you hit her arm, giving her a look. She shakes Natashas hand, "Kate... nice to finally meet you," She smiles back and looks next to her at you. "I'll see you tomorrow night, you should invite your friend."

You roll your eyes at Kates tease but nod and tell her you'll see her later.

"Coffee?" Natasha asks, and the ridiculous grin on her face is enough for you to agree to just about anything.

As you walk side by side, you can't help but admire her gentle personality. This woman, covered in tattoos and piercings with an intimidating gaze, was the complete opposite. She spoke to you about her schedule and that she was in school for sports medicine with a glint in her eyes.

"Like physical therapy?" You ask her curiously. You watched the way her face lit up at your interest, and she beamed down to you.

"Yeah, exactly that. If all else fails, I'll just be a personal trainer," she lets out a small chuckle, and you take the second she holds the door open for you to admire her toned body.

"How do I sign up? I need a good workout partner," you say with a flirtatious tone, brushing against her as you walk inside. You relish the blush on her cheeks and the small smirk on her lips as the smell of fresh coffee hits you.

"Didn't get a good enough workout last week?" Natasha replies.

"Oh, I had a great workout... but if I had a personal trainer, I'm sure I could get a good workout in at least a few times a week. Isn't that recommended?" You look up to her, seeing her neck redden and her eyes darken.

"I would definitely recommend that," Natasha mumbles as the two of you walk up to the counter.

As Natasha orders, you can't help but notice the change in her posture and attitude. Suddenly, she was standing straight, an impassive and series look on her face. Her tone was low as she talked to the woman at the counter. Natasha turns to you and nods for you to order. You do, and as she hands the woman her card, you smile up at her.

"Thank you for getting this for me," you say gratefully, watching her melt under your gaze. The smile was back, and her eyes came to life again. It seemed she had a soft spot for you.

"Of course, it's my treat," she says and walks you to a small table in the corner.

From there, you spend the entire rest of the evening actually talking and getting to know Natasha. As you already knew, she works out religiously, and you told her how lucky you felt that she had skipped her workout today just to sit down with you. She got her first tattoo at 18 and loved it, so she just never stopped getting them. The first piercing she got was on her eyebrow, and the same there, she just kept going.

It felt as if you were sitting in front of a whole new person than the one you met just weeks ago. The one who pile drived you into the mattress at a party and left you weak in the legs and sore the next day. Natasha was kind and sweet, funny, and surprisingly shy. Any time you made an attempt to flirt or give an innuendo, she would chuckle shyly and blush the slightest.

There were a few times you even had to squeeze your thighs as you thought back to that night. Any time her tongue would wet her lower lip or her eyes would travel to your neck. She loved your neck, you noticed. Every time you had hooked up her lips would go straight for the skin there, nipping at the few small freckles that adorned the area.

"That's a long time to be friends with someone," Natasha states as you finish telling her about yours and Kates relationship. Best friends since the fourth grade, completely inseparable.

"It's nice to have someone so close, who knows me so well. Especially since I'm an only child," you reply and watch her brow lift.

"Oh really? I have a sister, Yelena. She bugs the hell out of me, but I love her to death. She goes to the college just a couple of hours from here. Actually," Natasha looks at her phone, checking the time. "I'm supposed to meet her soon... she came home for the weekend."

You nod slowly and look around, realizing everyone had left and the two baristas were cleaning up. As the two of you stand, Natasha suddenly towering over at you, you feel a little disappointment in your chest. You were having more fun with her than you thought, and you found yourself not wanting to part.

"Hey, Kate and I are going to this bar tomorrow night. A few of our friends are getting together. Joes?" You say to her, smiling to yourself as she once again holds the door open for you.

"Yeah, I've been there a few times before," Natasha says with a grin, standing outside the coffee shop with you.

"If you want, maybe you and Yelena can meet us? You don't have to, of course, but..." You trail off.

"I will definitely be there. Text me a time?" She asks, and you nod happily. Natasha leans down, and you think for a second she's going to kiss you, but her lips land on the soft skin of your cheek. You put your hand on her arm as she does, feeling the tattooed skin burn underneath your touch.

****

Joes Bar is crowded, but that's to be expected on a Saturday night near a college campus. A local alternative band plays loudly on the small stage on one side of the room, and you find yourself on the opposite side sitting at the bar. Kate is nearby talking to friends and a few strangers, but you only had one person in mind.

You glance at your phone again, seeing no notifications. With a sigh, you finish your second drink, ordering a third as you contemplated the possibility she wasn't going to show up. This is why you didn't do this type of thing. You don't hook up with hot strangers. You don't get coffee with gorgeous, sweet women. You stayed to yourself, guarded your heart, and let yourself be safe from any type of rejection or heartbreak.

But God Natasha was worth breaking your rules.

You found your way back to reality as the bartender handed you a drink and said thank you before grabbing it and removing yourself from the bar stool. As you turn, you bump into someone, almost spilling your drink on them.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry!" You apologize, shaking the liquor off your hand as you had spilled a little on yourself.

"It's okay, I was just trying to squeeze in next to you," the woman says, and in your tipsy state, you raise an eyebrow. She seemed about your age, dirty blonde hair, and a familiar grin on her lips. You definitely hadn't seen her in here before.

"I was just getting up, actually. You can have my seat. Is that an accent I hear?" You ask curiously, moving out of the way so she could take your place.

"Yeah, I still have a bit of an accent, I was born in Russia. Lived there for a while," she says and nods. She then orders two drinks before turning back to you.

"Wow, you're a long way from there. You go to school here?" You ask her and sip your drink, feeling Kate stand behind you.

"No, but my sister does, though," the blonde smiles and grabs the two bottles of beer from the bartender. She looks at you and extends her arm towards Kate to hand her a bottle. You give her a confused look.

It's only then you realize, as an inked hand reaches over you to take the beer, that it's not Kate standing there, but Natasha. You turn instantly and look up, a habit your neck was quickly getting used to doing.

"Well, well, look who showed up," you say and take your bottom lip between your teeth. Natasha smiles at your words, noticing the way you take in her appearance.

If it was possible, Natasha looked hotter than ever. She wore a black t shirt underneath a leather jacket. Her flaming hair was behind her in a braid with a few loose strands framing her face.

"I see you've met my sister, Yelena," Natasha chuckles and nods in the direction of the blonde woman.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. Natty here hasn't been able to shut up abou-" Yelena is cut off by Natasha flicking the bottle cap at her face, a stern expression on the older woman's face.

You smile at the siblings' banter, watching Yelena laugh and shrug innocently. Whether it be the alcohol flowing in your bloodstream or the way Natasha looked at you, you slide your hand into hers. She tenses at first, not used to the public display of affection from you, but quickly relaxes as you intertwine your fingers with hers.

"Come on, come meet everyone," you say and tug on her hand in the direction of Kate.

You find them huddled around a pool table, watching as Kate lines up the pool tip to the cue ball with one eye closed. Carol stands leaning against her own stick, shaking her head and putting out the cigarette she smokes into the ashtray on the edge of the table.

"Anyday, Bishop..." Carol groans, earning a laugh from the group.

"Seriously, how long are you going to take?" Peter chimes in.

Kate ignores them and continues to stare intensely at the 8 ball. Her arm begins to pull back to take the shot, but as Yelena comes into focus on the opposite side of the table, Kate is finally distracted by the beautiful blonde. The cue ball misses her target completely, rolling across the table and sinking into the pocket.

"Scratch!" Carol cheers and high fives Monica. Kate looked up at Yelena, her lips parted as if she was going to speak, but no words came out. Carol then steps up to the table and sinks the 8 ball, ending the game with a dramatic bow.

You smile at the group, raising an eyebrow at the silent state of your best friend. "Guys, this is Natasha and her sister Yelena," you say, receiving waves and friendly greetings from everyone. You introduce them to the Romanoffs a little more before they rack up for another game.

"You any good?" Carol nods to Natasha, who gives a humble shrug.

"I'm decent," she replies with a smirk on her face as she brings the bottle to her lips. Carol hands the pool stick over before going to get drinks for the group.

"Hope you're good, Romanoff. We still haven't beat Y/N," Peter says begrudgingly. You only hum in response as Kate hands you her stick, positioning yourself across the table.

"Is that so?" Natasha watches with playful eyes as you skillfully break, the balls rolling in different directions along the table and a few of them sinking into the pockets.

When you lean up, you smile and reach your hand up to pat her cheek. "Good thing you didn't bet anything," you chuckle.

After a few back and forth turns, Carol returns with shots, to which you all cheer and take at the same time. The alcohol was definitely settling its way into your system now, and you were hot to the touch each time Natasha had to lean down to take her shot. Between the focused look on her face and the way the pool stick slid between her fingers, it was enough for you to want her right there.

You step forward next to her, looking at the direction of the shot she was trying to take. "That's a tough one, baby," you say to her, the term of endearment catching Natasha off guard.

Her body visibly tenses as she looks to you with a visceral reaction and swallows hard. You feign an innocent smile, taking a mental note to call her that again just to see her reaction. Natasha misses the shot and curses under her breath.

"That's not fair," she says and shakes her head as she stands tall. The red head removes her jacket, finding that the room was getting hotter.

You shrug and easily pocket two more balls on your turn. When you look to Kate to make a comment about the shot, you realize she's strayed from the group, chatting up Yelena. With your friends being in their own worlds at the moment, you decide to have a little fun with Natasha.

"You're not so bad, you know. The others have a hard time keeping up with me," you smile as she leans down, and your hand rests on her back, rubbing over her shirt.

"Y/n," Natasha mumbles, the blush on her cheeks evident she enjoyed your touch.

"Yes, Nat?" You pur, watching the muscles flex understand the fabric. Knowing you had this type of effect on her gave you a sense of power that only made you hungry for more. Your hand slithers underneath the bottom of her shirt, nails scratching at her back. She misses. You smile.

"You're a cheater, you know that?" Natasha says in a playful tone, her body naturally leaning towards you.

Your hands rest on her stomach, "I don't know what you're talking about." You lean up and plant a soft kiss on her lips, smirking as she leans down and melts against your mouth. "I'm just having fun," you whisper.

At that, you step away from her, crossing over to the opposite side of the table. You lean down more than you need to, and you don't miss the way Natashas eyes dart back and forth from your breasts to your neck. She finishes another bottle, and you can tell you've stressed her out by the way her hand grips the glass.

You continue to do the same thing for the remainder of the game, teasing her with every shot she took and making sure to bend in front of her any chance you could. It came down to the 8 ball, and you had to admit, you were dragging the game on longer than you needed to.

"Last one," you sigh and put your hand on the back of her neck as she leans down. Your fingers squeeze gently as she clears her throat, trying to ignore the shivers that run down her spine every time you touch her. You lean down with her, your lips brushing against her ear. "Good luck, baby," you whisper and kiss her cheek.

Her neck gets red at your words, and her grip on the stick only tightens. You think it'll snap in half with how hard she holds it. Natasha quickly shoots and misses, causing you to raise an eyebrow with just how quick she took the shot. Instead of stepping back, she continues to stand pressed against the table. "All yours," she mumbles and holds her hand out to the table, shifting uncomfortably as she stands.

You line up the shot and sink the black ball easily, looking up at her with a wide smile. She only gives you a small smile back with a nod. "Aren't you going to give me a victory kiss?" You ask as you step back to her.

Natasha hesitates for a moment but finally turns to face you. Your hands move up to wrap around her neck, your body pressing against her front as she leans in. Before your lips can touch your eyes, widen the slightest. You now realize the reason for the sudden uncomfortable physical shift she had taken when you felt her bulge pressing hard against you.

"Oh... was I teasing you too much?" You ask with a smirk on your lips. She rolls her eyes and moves to pull away, but you don't let her. "What was it?" You ask her.

"What was what?" She replies, her hands moving to your waist. You press your body further into her and relish the hiss that leaves her mouth.

You search her eyes, thinking to the moment her demeanor had changed. Suddenly, there was that power-hungry feeling again when you realized the reasoning. The fact that you could get her hot and bothered by a simple word leaving your lips, by your voice alone, and the thought of you driving someone like her mad. Natasha was weak in the knees for you, and she struggled internally with the way you made her feel. She wasn't used to it.

"Why don't you let me help you take care of your little problem... baby, " you whisper to her, feeling her shoulders tense above you. "Come on." You slide back and take her hand in yours, leading her away from the pool table and towards the bathroom.

As soon as both of you are inside and you lock the door, the two of you are on top of each other just like the first night you met her. Natasha kisses you feverishly, like she'd never been kissed before, with your back hard against the door. You welcomed her tongue into your mouth, moaning as the two halves wrap around your own.

With one hand, you hold onto the front of her shirt, gripping tightly, with the other you slide it in between your bodies, letting yourself grope the hard bulge in her jeans. Natasha lets a hint of a whimper leave her lips, one you hadn't heard since the first time with her, and you smirk into the kiss.

"What's the matter, baby? Do you need some help?" You ask innocently, lips ghosting hers. She breathes heavily and nods as your hands move to undo her belt.

"Sweetheart... please," she says, and you decide in that moment that you need her to say that again. Just the idea that this strong, formidable woman could so easily melt in your presence made you thrilled.

Her hands rest on either side above your head, pressed flat against the door as you slide her pants down. You can see the precum dampening a spot on her underwear, and you feel yourself get wet at the sight of it. She needed you, bad.

"Please, what?" You ask, your hand moves to grab her through her boxers, and you stroke her length through the thin fabric.

"Fu-fuck," she barely breathes out, eyes searching yours. Natasha hadn't begged a day in her life, but she would happily beg for you. She was at the point right now that she was willing to get down on her knees and beg for you. You made her desperate.

"Please touch me, please. You feel how hard I am for you? Just -" You squeezing a little harder makes her gasp before continuing. "I need you to touch me. Please, sweetheart... please, " she begs. You smile at her words, enjoying the way her body melts at your touch and the way she begs for you.

At her words you slide down her boxers, and her cock twitches at the feeling of finally being released. She lets out a sigh of relief as your delicate fingers wrap around her. "Is this what you wanted?" You hum, beginning to move your hand up and down. Natasha nods, chest beginning to rise and fall rapidly at your movements.

When you stop, she looks at you with a disoriented look, eyebrows lifting as she watches you drop to your knees. You take her cock in your hand, letting your other rest on her thick, toned thigh. From here you can see her happy trail peaking from underneath her shirt, making your panties wetter. The way she looks down at you with a breathless expression and parted lips makes you want to live your life on your knees for her. Your lips kiss along the side of her length, teasing slowly with your tongue licking up it. Natasha groans with pleasure at the feeling and her hips instinctively buck towards you.

You give in, not wanting to tease her anymore tonight, and take her cock into your mouth. The moan that leaves her mouth is outright sinful, and her fist hits the door with a thud as you begin to bob your head. Your cheeks hollow out when you begin moving faster, taking as much of her as you could. When the tip hits the back of your throat your eyes sting, tears threatening to leave your ducts. Natasha pants heavily above you, savoring the moment of you on your knees for her, sucking her off.

"Look at you, such a pretty girl with my cock in your mouth- fuck," Natasha speaks low to you, her eyes dark as she watches her cock disappear against your lips. Your fingers on her thigh dig in, your nails digging into her skin to leave crescent shaped marks, at her words. "All night you've been teasing me... this is the only way to shut you up, isn't it?" She says and you moan against her, the vibrations sending her close to the edge.

Her breathing gets heavier and you can tell she's about to cum, but before she can you quickly remove your mouth, your saliva coating her as you release with a pop. You stand, not ignoring the frustrated look on her face.

"Baby, I think you're confused," you say, your hands moving to the top of your dress. "You're not in charge right now," You let out a small laugh and pull down on the fabric, letting your breasts spill out. Natashas face reddens in response, and she immediately moves to kiss your chest. You can feel the marks she leaves as her lips trail across your breasts, her skillful tongue pleasuring your sensitive nipples.

Natashas' large hands move to the bottom of your dress as her kisses begin to litter up your neck. You let her move the material above and over your hips, but stop her as she reaches your panties. "I wanna hear you," you mumble out. She lets out a huff and pulls away from your neck.

"Y/n... please." Natasha says. You only continue to look at her with innocent eyes. The fact that she would beg for you - is begging for you, made you feel instant gratification.

"Please, pretty girl? Please let me make you feel good. I want to fuck you, want to make you feel good so bad..." She begs, and you let her slide your panties down your legs. Natasha slides her tip between your closed thighs, her cock now being coated from the wetness that spread between your legs.

She slips in between your folds, waiting for your words. Her fingers dig into your hips. "You drive me so fucking insane," Natasha whispers as her head ducks to your neck again. "I could cum from just looking at you. Just hearing you say my name. You know how much control you have over me?" Her hips continue rocking against you, your thighs squeezing her hard cock. She begins to pant again, her neck red and hot to the touch as you wrap your arms around it, interlocking your fingers behind her head.

"Please," Natasha whimpers, and the sound is enough to make you moan. You needed to feel her inside you immediately, hear more of those moans leave her lips.

"Show me how bad you want me, how insane I make you feel," you finally say and lean forward to bite her lower lip. She wastes no time lifting you up, helping you wrap your legs around her hips. Your back presses against the door again and with one hand she guides her cock inside of your warm velvet walls, easily ,with how wet you were for her.

Natasha begins to thrust up into you, a feeling you had become accustomed to these past few weeks, although you weren't sure you'd ever get used to her size. She groans against your chest, nipping at the skin. The small bathroom fills with the sounds of her pounding into you, both of you moaning practically in sync with every thrust.

"So good, pretty girl, feel so good wrapped around my cock. I love fucking this pretty pussy," she breathes heavy against your skin as she speaks. You hold on tightly to her, only breathless moans escape your lips in response.

Suddenly, from the outside, someone bangs on the door, Natasha doesn't halt her descent on you. "Can you hurry the fuck up in there?" A stranger yells from the other side. Your eyes widen, a little bit of adrenaline rushing into your chest as she continues fucking into you.

Natasha smiles, now at your flustered state. "Occupied," is all she replies before her thrust picks up the pace. "You better keep quiet, sweetheart. You don't want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me, letting me fuck you in the bathroom."

You squeeze your eyes closed as she fucks herself into you, trying your best to keep quiet. Each thrust was now hitting that special spot inside of you and drawing you closer to an orgasm. The feeling of her muscles flexing around you only intensified that feeling.

"Fuck I-I can't I'm-" Natasha stutters out as she groans into your neck, feeling your hot cunt tighten around her cock.

"Me too, Nat," you moan along with her, and your legs squeeze around her waist. "Let go, baby... wanna feel you fill me up." You watch her face twist in pleasure at your words, and the fact that it was enough to make her cum only added to your ego in the moment. Natasha grunts against your skin as she does just what you say, filling you up completely.

The sensation alone is enough to make you follow right behind her, the burn in your lower stomach blazing as you scream out her name.

"That's it, sweetheart, that's it... such a good girl for me," she coos as you fall apart in her arms, kissing your face as you breathe heavily. Your head falls against her shoulder, face panting in the crook of her neck as she holds you tightly, letting you come down off your high.

After a few moments she pulls out slowly, and you can feel the mixture of both your arousal dripping down your thighs. Natasha carries you to the sink, letting you rest on the hard surface while she pulls her pants back up and you fix the top of your dress.

"Hi," she says with a smile. You giggle, remembering she said the same thing afterward on the first night at her party.

"Hi," is all you reply, grabbing her shirt in your hand and pulling her closer to kiss you again.

****

"They have eight legs and eight eyes. How are they not scary?" Peter drunkenly speaks to Monica, who sits next to him with an amused look.

After your time in the bathroom with Natasha, the two of you had rejoined the group, and over the course of two hours, you had become increasingly wasted with the rest of your friends. As Yelena joined in on the topic of spiders, you feel Natasha rest her head back against your front.

She sat slouched back in one of the chairs that scattered near the table while you stood behind her, hands stroking her neck and massaging her shoulders. You can't help but smile down at her.

"You're so cute," you giggle and watch her brow raise. Your finger traces the dark lines on her neck.

"Anything but cute," Natasha groans, with a playful smirk on her face. "Why do you say that?"

"You're different than you look, you know? Why are you so nervous around me?" Your words slur, and she chuckles at your drunken state with a shrug, looking at the beer bottle she held in her hand.

"Must be the alcohol?" She says. You shake your head and poke her nose.

"You were drinking when I first met you, and you weren't like this," you point out and watch her swallow. You decide to move in front of her, settling yourself between her muscled thighs. As you stand in front of her, she sits up straighter, the two of you now practically the same height.

You take her hand in yours, playing with her fingers. She smiles a little as she looks at your intertwined hands.

"Maybe I was drinking that night to get enough courage to talk to you... and maybe I- maybe I'm drinking tonight to get enough courage to say I want more with you. More than... the hookups," she says and finally looks back up at you. Your heart races in your chest at her words, panic written on your face as you freeze in front of her.

That was exactly what you wanted. More of her, more of this beautiful person who was even more beautiful inside. To get to know what makes her really tick, what makes her happy, how her day was, how she likes her coffee. She wanted more, too, so why were you not speaking out loud?

"What?" Is all that comes out of your mouth.

Natashas face falls completely, misinterpreting your flustered state for a sign of rejection. She had hoped this wouldn't happen. Part of her wondered if this had just been a hook up, but the other part of her desperately hoped it wasn't.

Before the words could leave your parted lips, Kate calls over to you, taking the attention of both you and Natasha.

"Y/N, you ready to go? You can stay if you want, I'm gonna take Pete home, though," she nods to the direction of where he sat drunk rambling to Yelena.

"No, not -"

"Actually, Yelena and I have a lot to do tomorrow. We should head out too," Natasha interrupts you and stands, her hand moving to your lower back as you stare up at her with a pout.

"Are you sure?" You ask her, your hand reaching out to her side. She tenses under your grasp.

"Yeah, I'll text you later," She smiles at you, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes this time.

You nod anyways and smile back, leaning up to kiss her lips softly. "Thank you for tonight.. Hopefully, we can do it again soon?"

And while you were talking about hanging out with her, Natasha assumes you were talking about her fucking you.

"Yeah, soon," she lets out a breath and grabs her jacket, not taking a second look back at you as her and Yelena exit the bar.

***

A smile fills your face as your head hits the pillow, the soft comforter pulled over you as you lie on your warm bed and mull over tonights events. You wondered why Natasha had left in such a hurry before you could say anything, but you decided not to think too hard on it. She probably did have to go. It was early in the morning by the time you left, and besides, you would hear from her later.

Every morning, she texted you a quick and sweet text, telling you to have a good day.

Your chest swelled at the thought of it, how sweet it was that such a small, simple thing could brighten your entire day. What you assumed would happen tomorrow is that the two of you would talk about wanting more and how desperately you agreed with her about it.

But when the late morning came and the sunshine streamed through the windows, no text came with it.

[vampiredaisiesss]

touch me — d.w. x reader

synopsis - you run your knuckles through the stubble littering his cheeks. your fingers travel upwards, thumb tracing his crow's feet. the lines on his face have deepened as he's grown older as has his hair gotten lighter. you find him all the more beautiful like this.

trigger warning - older dean winchester (early 40s) with younger reader (early 20s)

He thinks about time, about how it marks you, about how each silver strand falling to the floor is another reminder of all the years between the two of you.

The harsh glare of the bathroom light is unforgiving, casting every line on his face into sharp focus. Dean watches your reflection in the mirror. The gentle snip-snip echoes off the tile walls as you work the scissor over his hair, your lip caught between your teeth.

Steam still clings to the bathroom mirror from your shower, making the edges of your reflection soft, dream-like. Your tank top's damp where his hair falls against it, and there's something so domestic about this moment it makes his chest ache.

You hum "Hey Jude" while you work, because of course you know that's what Mary sang when she cut his hair. Of course you know that's what he sometimes hummed in his sleep whenever he'd have a nightmare.

"You're thinking too loud, again," you murmur, running your fingers through the short hairs at his nape.

"I've got shirts older than you," he says finally, the words tasting bitter on tongue.

You laugh out loud, and it sounds like every good thing he probably doesn't deserve. "And they're all flannel, and they all smell like gunpowder and cheap liquor that you probably spilled on them two decades ago, but never got dry-cleaned, and I love them." Your smile turns soft at the edges. "Just like I love the man wearing them."

"Kid—" he starts, but you cut him off.

"Don't 'kid' me, Dean Winchester. Not when you're balls deep inside me every night." You pause for just enough time to fix him a determined stare, and he offers you a small smile.

"You think I don't know who I'm choosing? You think I haven't counted every scar, every gray hair, every year you spent saving the world before I was old enough to know it needed saving?"

The scissor is forgotten on the countertop as you run your knuckles through the stubble littering his cheeks. Your fingers travel upwards, thumb tracing his crow's feet. The lines on his face have deepened as he's grown older as has his hair gotten lighter.

You find him all the more beautiful like this.

Dean's throat tightens. You're stripping him bare with your touch. "Exactly. You could have anyone. Someone who—"

He swallows hard, but he's smiling now. His chest feels heavier with something else. "When you say it like that, sounds like I should be in a museum, not your bed."

"Someone who what? Someone who hasn't survived forty years in hell? Someone who doesn't wake up reaching for a weapon? Someone who doesn't understand why I keep rock salt by the bed and devil's traps under the rugs?" You shake her head. "I don't want easy, Dean. I want you."

"There," you say finally, brushing loose hair from his neck. Your lips find that sensitive spot behind his ear, and he can feel you smile against his skin.

"Please," You chuckle. Your hands slide back into his hair, resuming cutting. "Museums are for looking, not touching. "And I'm very..." snip "...very..." snip "...fond of touching you."

"Touch me," he says, and it comes out like a prayer he never learned properly – rough and wanting and holy all at once. It curls around your heart in the shape of Dean's hand.

He reaches up, catches your hand before you can move away.

You touch him like you're reading braille, like every freckle on his body has a story to tell. Your lips trace constellations across the map of blue veins over his body. And when you finally put your lips on the scar along the side of his hip — the first ever souvenir he collected on his skin — you feel the smallest tremor in his breath. It’s so faint, but unmistakable, and for a moment, you could almost swear you made Dean Winchester mewl.

And you do.

[ogeneraloito]

"dipper has been treating this important scientific document as his own personal diary" says stanford "i prefer dreams with my muse and one of my favorite constellations is a literal triangle with a bow tie. does that seem familiar" pines

"the devil has a silver tongue"

[heartkaji]

WINBRE BOYS + THIRSTY TWEETS !

inc : sakura haruka, suo hayato , ren kaji, togame jo contains explicit language + celeb au

SAKURA HARUKA !

“ume’s left ballsack says : do you think sakura’s pubes are white or black or are they divided into both like his hair ?”

kill sakura now.

he’s a red cheeked mess of sweat & nervous system shivers. he’s practically hyperventilating as you laugh beside him, melting into a puddle of molten blush cheeks & ultraviolet bone. he shakes at a frequency not unlike ultrasound.

“oh my fucking god sakura—well ? what do you have to say to the fans ?”

you elbow the quivering boy. if you were any less of the devil you are you’d forcefully refuse the question or at least answer it in his place—you did know the truth firsthand after all. but you’re the serpent in the garden & seeing sakura squirm is like an apple down your throat. sakura is still blinking eyes & flushing nose & palms bleeding sweat bullets so you’ve had to grab the phone from his hands in fear it might fall from the way they quake & quiver.

“ what the fuck kind of question is this ? where are your parents ? guardians—?”

“baby, that question could apply to you too.”

“shut up !”

SUO HAYATO !

“slut4suo69 says : i need to know what’s under suo’s eyepatch. is he blind ? does he have some cool sexy scar ? does he have no eye at all ? not that i care. i’d fuck the shit out of his empty eye socket — three holes are better than two !”

“oh.”

you burst out laughing. this is the first time you’ve seen dagger mouthed suo hayato speechless. his mouth is hung agape as he seizes the phone from your hands & reads the tweet over & over again as if it’ll cause the digital ink to melt off & fly away. each time he reads his mouth gets drier & you swear you can see blisters bruling on his tongue.

“this is the most vulgar thing i’ve ever seen.”

“so true ! now answer it.”

you tuck your hair & dip your head over suo’s shoulders to get one last look at the tweet before facing the camera.

“though i can’t match your freak with the whole eye fucking thing, i too, slut4suo69, would absolutely love to know what’s under my boyfriend’s eyepatch.” you bat your lashes at the bedazzled brunette & loop an arm around his elbow. “the fans & i wanna know, suo. do tell.”

“i’m pretty sure i’ve told you this before, angel—“

“aht aht ! no thousand year old dragon bullshit, hayato. we promised to answer all the questions truthfully, remember ?”

suo heaves a sigh, breath heavy & chest tight as you rest your head on his arm. his thumb traces lazy swirls & zig zags over your knuckles.

“i see. if the fans wanna know, who am i to refuse, hm?”

REN KAJI !

“isagi solos your fave says : i need kaji to suck me the way he sucks his lollipops. hear me out y’all—his tongue swirling over your clit, teeth grazing your folds as he—“

“aight that’s enough,”

you giggle as kaji pulls out the phone between your palms. you reach over his lap for it, pathetic attempts to grab the device from his hands while kaji raises it higher & higher. his palm burns against your stomach to keep you away.

“i fucking hate the internet, bro. don’t y’all have hobbies ? friends ? occupations ?”

you’re giggling & snorting as kaji cusses out the camera. “and i swear, word to my mother that whoever wrote this is is like, twelve. what in the wattpad is this ?”

kaji pulls out the cherry red sucker resting in his cheek. “this shit don’t even taste sweet anymore, man.” he flings the candy angrily into a silver can sitting across the set.

you bury your head in the sleeve of his jacket, a red nosed, puffy faced mess of sweltering eyes & plum heavy cheeks. your snorts are muffled in the linen of his sleeves. “heaven knows i love my fans but fuck, i cannot wait for some of you to rot in hell.”

“god ren,” you clap your hands in between teary eyed giggles. “i’m trying to breathe baby please stop..!”

“fuck no. you horny bitches need to be euthanized. eradicated. like hello ? is this what our lord and savior jesus christ died for ? are these the kind of sins he repeatedly has to forgive ? he’s better than me for real cuz i can’t take this anymore.”

kaji walks off the set but you’re too busy wiping tears & sniffling nose to follow. “somebody ! tell him to come back..!”

TOGAME JO !

“kubzscouts is my wifey says : fellas is it gay to want togame jo to slide into you slowly, teasing your entrance with light strokes as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear like ‘you can take it baby, that’s a good girl’ as his big fat coochie crusher69 slips into—jo i don’t want to read this anymore.”

you look up at him with pretty peach painted lips bent into a pout. his palm stops teasing at your thigh momentarily before picking up again, “m’ not quite sure i want you to read it either, pretty.”

you report the account without even waiting for togame’s approval. he cracks a smile when he notices your cherry drenched cheeks & red dyed ears.

“someone seems jealous.”

“and i know that someone isn’t me jo, so which of your other a-b-c-d looking ass bitches are you talking about ?”

togame whistles playfully, palms trailing further up your thigh. his touch is a ghost burying your nerves in sap & soil. you pretend your skin doesn’t ache from the way he draws hearts on your knee.

“now, now. i think we both know i’m a loyal man, yeah ?”

“who’s we ? kubzscouts over here is describing bedroom you with awful precision.”

he lets out a boyish laugh. “she missed a few things, though. don’t i always kiss it first ?”

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload

[beyourselfchulanmaria]

Loving Her Was Easier (Than Anything I'll Ever Do Again) · Kris Kristofferson

I have seen the morning burning golden on the mountain in the skies Aching with the feeling of the freedom of an eagle when she flies Turning on the world the way she smiled upon my soul as I lay dying Healing as the colors in the sunshine and the shadows of her eyes

Waking in the morning to the feeling of her fingers on my skin Wiping out the traces of the people and the places that I've been Teaching me that yesterday was something that I never thought of trying Talking of tomorrow and the money, love, and time we had to spend

Loving her was easier than anything I'll ever do again

Coming close together with a feeling that I've never known before in my time She ain't ashamed to be a woman nor afraid to be a friend I don't know the answer to the easy way she opened every door in my mind But dreaming was as easy as believing it was never gonna end

And loving her was easier than anything I'll ever do again

Mmm, mmm Ah

RIP

[sixersigned]

@bllcphr / cont!

It all makes so much sense now. Stanford doesn't know how he hadn't seen it before. No, that's a lie; he KNOWS why. Fiddleford saw straight through his muse's nonsense, and there Ford was, defending every lick of it. Why? All in the name of his damned ego, HIMSELF, and because for a moment he clung to the idea that he might have BELONGED somewhere. That's such a stupid notion now. It had been looking him right in the face; he was just too selfish to take it... and now he's built the devil's playground.

“ I didn't... “ the man stammers for words, too distraught to find them, and too angry to look Bill in the eye. And then he does, and it all comes seething, “ Party? THAT'S what we're calling this?! This is... “

He pauses, brows lifting in incredulous disgust. This is all a game. It's always been a game. AND HE JUST LOST.

“ This is MADNESS! If I had known—! “ he stops. Even though he wanted the glory, to hold the mantle of genius for centuries to come. He put all of his blood, sweat and tears into this as if his life had depended on it— “ I would have NEVER built the portal in the first place! You LIED to me, Bill! You TOLD me...! “

[hawkinsbnbg]

Silver fox Steve meets fox hunter Eddie.

When Steve accepted the teaching position at IU, he didn't expect to stumble upon Eddie Munson–an enigma—who loved metal, who wore leathers with chains and rings, who always stood out with that wild mane, those attractive tattoos and devil-may-care attitude, and who had been trying to get into his pants for months now.

“Is this still a violation to the college’s policies, Professor?” Hot lips planted by his ears, strong hands held him down, stopped him from getting away.

“N– No,” Steve gasped and rolled his eyes back as Eddie hit that spot again. They had been at it for over an hour now, and Steve only had himself to blame for being weak-willed.

He had half a mind to worry about what his colleagues might say tomorrow about having seen him slink away with one of the graduates. But his head was rendered blank when those long calloused fingers wrapped around his neglected cock and started jerking it.

“Am I still too young for you, Professor?”

“Ye– Oh, god–” Steve writhed and slobbered as his sweet spots were battered again.

“Just Eddie is fine,” the younger man nipped the tip of his ear teasingly before setting up a brutal pace.

Steve couldn't even talk, he just fisted the sheet beneath him, overwhelmed and overstimulated. He was kind of appalled and thrilled by it all. Because sex had never felt so good to him before.

“Am I good enough for you, Professor?” Eddie asked, voice husky and gravelly with lust.

Steve dropped his mouth open to maybe form a proper word or breathe, he didn't know. His brain was too fucked out to remember why he had kept turning Eddie away in the first place.

The guy clearly knew how to plow. Fucking Christ.

He nodded blindly, moaning and losing his mind as Eddie hammered into his prostate as if wanting to knock his soul away.

He came with Eddie’s name on his tongue, twitching and clenching around the thick cock that pulsed inside him. He milked it for what it was worth, and lamented inwardly Eddie had filled the condom and not him.

Once the post-coital high finally passed, the clarity of the situation dawned on him. Steve didn't regret it, but he was mildly disappointed this was just a one-time thing.

Because of all people, he knew Eddie’s kind the best. Always curious, always eager to take on challenges. And who else was better to conquer than Professor Harrington who was known for being a rule stickler?

Except, tonight was the first time he let himself be swayed by those charming smiles and big impish eyes. Maybe it was old ages having mellowed him, or maybe it was loneliness wearing his guard down.

Either way, someone brilliant like Eddie would never stick around for a boring old man like Steve. Which was completely understandable. But it didn't hurt less to think he was just another pitstop in Eddie’s life. Easy to forget, easy to leave behind.

“Hope you haven’t gotten tired of me yet, Mr. Harrington,” Eddie returned from the bathroom with a washcloth in hands, looking far too chirpy in only a pair of black boxers and not at all as drained as Steve felt.

God, what a time to be reminded that he was too old for this.

Sitting against the headboard, Steve said nothing and just watched Eddie climb on the bed and kneel over to him. When he intended to take the washcloth, Eddie just grabbed his hand to kiss the back of it instead.

“Allow me to take care of my date,” the younger man said cheekily before proceeding to wipe him down with practiced ease.

“Your date, huh?” Steve snorted, laughing at himself for being so pathetic to perk up at that.

“Yeah, my date,” Eddie smiled softly, tone still light-hearted but eyes intense when they met his own. “We’re kinda doing it backward here but I can fix that.”

Jesus. Steve didn't think he knew what he was getting himself into. And still, he couldn't help but listen to his stupid heart, the one that was telling him to give Eddie a chance.

“How?”

“I know this place has really good tacos,” Eddie rested a hand on his bare thigh and stroked it slowly. “They also serve quite decent drinks and mean buffalo wings.”

“What if I say no?” Steve raised his eyebrow.

“Well, in that case,” Eddie deflated, looking like a kicked puppy as he braved on. “I’ll respect your decision and get out of your hair soon.”

Steve sighed, wishing pretty boys with big eyes weren't his weakness.

“Listen carefully,” he leveled Eddie with a serious look. “If you’re just looking for someone to fool around with, then I’m not the right person for you. But if you want to try for a real relationship, then we can do it together. And I’ll expect you to be fully committed. No polygamy or anything alike.”

Eddie grinned at him, dimpled and bright, before cupping his cheek and kissing the side of his mouth.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been committed to you since the first time we met. Been yours even before you noticed me.”

The fact that Steve could tell it was true made his heart flutter in his chest.

“Well then, Mr. Munson, I have no problem with you fixing our date tonight,” he turned his head slightly to press a chaste kiss on Eddie’s lips.

“So polite,” Eddie chuckled and kissed him again, but it was deeper and more tender this time.

Although Steve still couldn't quite believe Eddie would stick around, he decided to take the leap of faith anyway.

And many years later, when he glanced up from his newspaper to see Eddie showing him another new sweater for their dog, he knew he had made the right choice that night.

[katethetank]

Ok I’ve never written anything before, and I’m obsessed with Steddie content. So without further adieu, here’s a modern day Steddie story where Eddie comes to terms with the hard truth that his husband’s snuggles might be more popular than his world famous band. This kind of got away from me and ended up way longer than I thought it would. Oops.

Content warnings: idk, TikTok I guess?! It’s fluffy and sweet, illusions to smut at the end

Eddie Munson was a notoriously private person. Corroded Coffin was the biggest metal/alt band in the world, and despite the fame, he managed to keep his personal life just that - personal.

There of course had been rumors over the last few years of who he was married to. Among the chunky metal rings that always adorned his fingers, fans couldn’t help but notice the simple silver band on his left ring finger. Paparazzi would occasionally catch him out in public with various women, leading his fans to speculate wildly who his mystery wife was.

But as soon as the rumors got started, they were quickly shut down. He was photographed once stumbling out of a club in New York with SNL star Robin Buckley on his arm. Social media went absolutely rabid and Robin made sure to clear things up the following Saturday on Weekend Update, announcing that she was in fact, a raging lesbian.

Not too long after that, Eddie was photographed clinking wine glasses with accomplished journalist Nancy Wheeler at a romantic rooftop restaurant in LA. When rumors started swirling around them of a secret affair, Nancy’s husband (and Rolling Stone photographer) Jonathan Byers put a stop to it by posting a picture of all three of them on his socials explaining that they were long time friends and out celebrating Nancy’s nomination for a Pulitzer.

Again the rumor mill started churning when Eddie was spotted giving a piggyback ride to pro skateboarder Max Mayfield after one of her competitions. Accusations of him “robbing the cradle” had her immediately posting a video on TikTok telling everyone off, fake gagging, and saying that Eddie was like her big brother. She then pulled Eddie into the frame asking, “Would you losers seriously believe I’d be into this ugly mug?” before promptly shoving his face away. Eddie was only a little offended.

Max’s video kind of blew up though, with everyone demanding more of Eddie’s presence on the app. Reluctantly he started his own account, his first video of him backstage at his sold out Madison Square Garden show, simply flashing the devil horns, sticking out his tongue, and greeting, “Hey assholes!”

It effectively broke the internet.

He was verified within a matter of hours, and had millions of followers within the first day.

Now all he had to do was figure out what the hell he was going to post. He didn’t want to share too much of his private life, but scrolling through the comments, he could see how much his fans truly loved seeing just that brief candid moment from him. So he started sharing bits and pieces behind the scenes at his shows, shots of the guys hanging out on the tour bus, and one lazy morning, a glimpse of his sleep-rumpled self in bed and his birds nest of bed head.

The comments on that last one exploded.

Everyone wanted to know who he was sharing that bed with, asking for a peek at his wife, if she was also famous. Who was he married to for god’s sake?!

He refused to take the bait.

One afternoon he set up his living room for a TikTok live, planning on just strumming his guitar, answering questions about the new album that was coming out, maybe taking some requests for songs to play. While he was glancing at the comments and plucking away at his acoustic, he didn’t hear the front door open, or the footsteps coming towards the room. He startled when he heard, “Babe, I’m home! I got you some more Honeycombs!”

Eddie froze. And the comments went absolutely fucking wild.

“Wait, was that a dude?!”

“Did some guy just call him babe???”

“SPOUSE REVEAL?!?!”

“OMG IS HE GAY???? I LOVE THIS FOR US!!”

“Oh I am so invested in this! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈”

“Honeycombs?! Really?!”

Eddie scrambled to set his guitar down, quickly thanked everyone for tuning in, and cut off the live stream.

Steve stepped into the room with a questioning look on his face. “Babe?… what’s wrong?”

Eddie glanced at him sheepishly mumbling, “We may have just spilled the beans on a live stream.”

“You were doing a live stream? What happened? And wait, what beans?”

Sighing heavily and running a hand through his hair, Eddie stood up and walked over to Steve, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I was doing a TikTok live, playing some songs and talking about the new record. I didn’t hear you come in, and when you shouted that you were home, it was apparently loud enough for everyone to hear. So I shut it down fast before the comments got even more out of control. I didn’t know what to say!”

Steve leaned in and gave Eddie a peck on the nose, hugged him tight, and asked, “Well… how bad were the comments? Do you think people are gonna freak out?”

“Freak out? In a good way, maybe. They all seemed pretty surprised to hear a guy’s voice and were asking for a spouse reveal.”

Steve furrowed his brows and thought about it for a few moments. “What if we did?”

“Did what?”

“A spouse reveal. I gotta admit, it’s been pretty annoying having everyone assume you’re sleeping with our friends! I don’t really like the idea of being in the public eye, but what if we just did a quick video or something to put the rumors to bed for good?”

Admittedly it was a pretty good idea. Eddie liked being able to share parts of his life with his fans, and Steve was the biggest part of his life. It would be nice to show him off for a moment and finally tell the world who put that ring on his finger.

“Yeah. Yeah, ok! Let’s do it!”

Eddie grabbed his phone, opened TikTok, and got comfy on the couch. Steve sat down next to him, cuddled into his side. He started the video with the camera just on himself, took a deep breath, and hit record.

“Hey guys! Sorry to dip out of my live stream so suddenly. I was a little thrown off with that interruption, but thought it would be best to come on here and clear the air. Yes, I’m married. Yes, my spouse is a man. Yes, my favorite cereal is Honeycombs, don’t come at me for that! And this is Steve.”

He tilted his phone so both his and Steve’s faces were in the frame. Steve smiled brightly and did a little finger wave. “Hey everybody!”

Eddie giggled and turned to kiss Steve on the cheek. Even after years of being together, Eddie’s affections still made him blush. Steve turned at looked at Eddie with stars in his eyes and whispered, “I love you babe.”

“I love you too sweetheart.”

They shared a brief kiss before Eddie ended the video and immediately posted it.

He effectively broke the internet again.

Millions of likes and comments flooded in, a huge wave of love and support from his fans. And of course, more questions.

“Shut up, they are so fucking cute I’m gonna puke”

“I’m so sad that the married rumors are true, but omg his husband is crazy hot! Good for him!”

“His name is Steve?! Why is that so adorable?!”

“Find yourself a man who looks at you like Steve looks at Eddie!”

“Who is this Steve?! TELL! ME! EVERYTHING!”

“We demand more Steve!”

“Ok I need more details immediately”

The demand for more Steve content did not stop. Eddie still wanted to keep his private life as private as possible, but Steve had no problem with popping up in a few videos here and there. Rolling his eyes in the background at Eddie’s antics, hands on his hips while scolding the band for being late to an interview, painting Eddie’s nails backstage before a show. Just little glimpses of Steve being Steve. His fans ate that shit up.

One night Eddie was left to his own devices while Steve was out having a “girls night” with Robin, Nancy, Max, and El. Why he wasn’t invited too he will never know. Not that he was jealous or anything. Totally not jealous. He decided to set up another TikTok live while he screwed around on his guitar. About an hour in, the front door flew open and in stumbled a very flushed, very giggly, very drunk Steve.

“BABE! I SAW ARIANA GRANDE TONIGHT!”

Eddie started laughing as Steve made his way into the living room, glancing at how the comments went absolutely apeshit again.

“Stevie, sweetheart, sit down before you hurt yourself.”

Steve took the guitar out of Eddie’s hands and plopped down in his lap. “Babe, seriously! I saw Ariana Grande! Me and the girls went to some club and Nancy got us into the VIP section, and there she was! Just! Sitting there looking all cool and famous! Babe, it was awesome!”

Chuckling, Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve, kissed him on his temple, and pointed at his phone set up on a tripod. “Stevie, you interrupted my live stream again. Say hi to everyone!”

Steve turned his head towards the phone, eyebrows raising up, and smiled dopily. “Oh! Hi guys! Did you hear?? I saw Ariana Grande!” He then quickly snapped his drunken gaze back towards Eddie. “OH MY GOD! Babe! Do you think she’s on here?! Can you message her?!” He turned back to the phone shouting, “Ariana! I’m Steve! We should hang out! Eddie, tell her we should hang out!”

Eddie started cackling and patted Steve’s head like a puppy. “Ok big boy, you’ve clearly had enough. Sorry guys, I’m gonna have to cut the stream short and put this one to bed. And uh, yeah. Ariana Grande, if you’re into hanging out with preppy former jocks who like to snuggle while they’re wasted, let me know I guess. Goodnight!”

Eddie looked down at Steve, who had tucked himself into Eddie’s chest while he was talking, and gave a little kiss on his head before ending the live stream.

“Hmmm… sleepy.”

“I know you’re sleepy sweetheart, let’s get you into jammies and tuck you in.”

The next morning Eddie awoke to a hungover Steve groaning into his neck, and a message on TikTok from none other than Ariana Grande.

“What the fuck?!”

“Hng… too loud.”

“Sweetheart. Stevie. Wake up!”

“No.” Steve pulled the covers over his face.

“Honey, seriously, you need to wake up. You’ve gotta see this.”

“Eds, I don’t wanna see shit, I wanna sleep.”

“Stevie, do you remember coming home last night and telling everyone on TikTok that you want to hang out with Ariana Grande?”

Steve flipped the covers back off and gave him an incredulous look. “I did not.”

“Yeah princess, you did. You stumbled in talking about how you saw her at a club and wanted to hang out with her. And guess the fuck what.”

“…….what?”

Eddie turned his phone for Steve to see the message.

“What the?… ‘Hey Eddie! I caught your livestream last night and my answer is yes! Steve seems like an absolute doll, I’d love to hang out with him’”

Steve looked at him with wide eyes and just stared for few beats.

“SHE WANTS TO HANG OUT WITH ME?!”

His volume made both men wince, Steve immediately grabbing his throbbing head and groaning.

“Yes, sweetheart, apparently babbling drunk gay men are her thing. So, when should I tell her you’re free?”

The following Wednesday, Steve was a nervous wreck. He had cleaned the house from top to bottom, prepped a gorgeous charcuterie board, had wine chilling in the fridge, and checked his hair about 30 times.

“Stevie, darling, sweetheart. You’ve got to calm down.”

“Calm down? CALM DOWN?! Eddie, Ariana fucking Grande is coming to our house! How is this even happening? What if we don’t have anything in common? What if she thinks I’m an awkward idiot? I don’t wanna screw this up!”

Eddie wrapped Steve up in his arms and gave him a tight squeeze. “You won’t screw anything up. Everyone loves you Stevie. Just be you, and she’ll love you too. And if you’re freaking out, I’m a phone call away, alright? I should only be at the studio for a few hours and then I’ll be home before you know it. You two will have a great time! Ok?!”

Steve let out a long suffering sigh. “Ok.”

The doorbell rang and Eddie took his hand, walking with Steve to go greet their guest of honor. As soon as the door opened, Ariana Grande herself was standing there with a huge smile on her face. “Steve! Oh my god, it’s so nice to meet you!” She immediately gave Steve a hug and barley even acknowledged Eddie standing there.

“Ok. Well. I guess I’m not needed here. Have fun you two! Don’t do anything I would do!” Steve laughed and gave him a quick peck before leading his guest into the house.

After a few hours of polishing some tracks on the new album, Eddie headed back home. He hadn’t heard from Steve the whole time he was out, and hoped that everything went smoothly with his new friend. Or whatever the hell this was.

Opening his front door, he was greeted with the sounds of giggles, clinking glass, and… are they watching Twilight?!

He pulled out his phone and started recording as he walked into the living room. “Here I am, coming home after hours of slaving away on our new album to find THIS.” He flipped the camera around to a view of Steve and apparently his new best friend, snuggled under a blanket, wine glasses in hand, a few empty bottles on the table, surrounded by a mess of crumbs, giggling at blue-tinted vampires playing baseball.

He flipped the camera back to himself, sulking “I think I’ve been replaced.”

Internet: broken.

“Did they just become best friends?!”

“Awwwww I want Steve Snuggles!”

“Living for this!!!!”

“#stevesnuggles”

“Wait, did he make her a charcuterie board??”

In the weeks that followed, #stevesnuggles took over social media. Everyone and their mother was gushing about Eddie’s adorable husband, wanting to see more of him, and his snuggles. Eddie couldn’t blame them, really. The man is adorable. But he still wanted to keep sort of a lid on their private life, so he limited most of his posts to just Corroded Coffin content. Anticipation for the new album was amping up, a tour was being planned, and the buzz was buzzing.

Unfortunately with all of the work leading up to the release, Eddie wasn’t getting enough of his daily allotment of Steve Time. He was looking forward to the weekend when his schedule was clear so he could finally have some quality time with his husband and soak up all of those famous snuggles.

Life had other plans, though. Friday afternoon he got a text from Steve saying that it was his turn to host girls night. Again, why was Eddie not invited to these things?? Not that he was jealous. Of course not. That would be crazy. He resigned himself to the fact that tonight, he’d have to share his husband.

When he stepped into their home, he immediately recognized the honking laughter of a tipsy Robin, Nancy’s adorable giggle, but there were several other voices he couldn’t decipher. Thinking ahead, he once again pulled out his phone and started recording.

“HONEY, I’M HO- the fuck?!”

It took him a moment to register what he was seeing. He flipped the camera around to focus on the absurd cuddle puddle on the floor. In a pile of what must have been every blanket and pillow in the house, was the obvious collection of Steve, Nancy, Robin, and apparently now Ariana. But then…

“Sweetheart, why are Rhianna and Taylor Swift on our living room floor?”

Steve just looked up at him pie-eyed and sweetly stated, “Girls night!” to which the bizzare collection of women shouted, “Hi Eddie!”

How many times can you break the internet before it stays broken?

“WHAT. THE FUCK.”

“Ummmmm best girls night ever?”

“How do I get an invite??”

“So Steve is just a magnet for powerful women then. Got it.”

“#STEVESNUGGLES OMG!!!”

Steve snuggles indeed. Eddie was so used to being in the limelight, it was a strange adjustment to have his once under the radar husband be in such high demand. Every time he posted a TikTok of the band, the comments were flooded with requests for more Steve. He did sometimes cave and give the people what they wanted. Quick videos of Steve cooking them dinner while dancing to his god forsaken pop music, sneak peeks of some of their new songs with Steve singing along, and ok, one thirst trap of him working out in their home gym. Eddie was a just a man after all, and his husband was hot.

The album was finally released and sales were through the roof. Corroded Coffin had never sold so many copies before and someone from the label insisted that their TikTok presence had everything to do with it. Was it actually them, or the love for Steve? Who’s to say. Either way, their concerts across the country were sold out in a matter of minutes and the band couldn’t wait to kick off their next tour.

The first show was in LA and Eddie had planned to do a quick TikTok before they took the stage. He started in the hallway backstage, welcoming everyone to the start of the tour, and made his way into the green room. “Alright everyone, let’s check in quick with the band and make sure these dickheads are ready to go! BOYS! ARE WE - Steve?! What the hell?”

He flipped the camera around to the view of Steve happily scrolling on his phone on one of the couches. With Dua Lipa cuddled up on one side of him and Lady goddamn Gaga on the other. What the fuck is his life?

“Babe! Hi! The girls were in town and came by to check out the show!”

“I’m sorry… THE GIRLS?! How do you even know them?!”

Steve raised an eyebrow at him like he was an idiot and said, “Lipa was on SNL and she had Robin get us connected. And Jon did a photo shoot with Stef and…basically the same thing.”

Stef?! Who the fuck is Stef? Wait right… Lada Gaga is a stage name.

Eddie flipped the camera back on himself and just. Stared. “I…I don’t know what the fuck is happening.”

Queue the comments.

“Ok is he like best friends with EVERY icon?!”

“Steve IS the icon! 💅”

“What’s a girl gotta do to get some #stevesnuggles in here?!”

“Omfg Eddie’s never gonna get his own #stevesnuggles now is he?”

“SHARE THE WEALTH”

“I can’t believe this app is free”

From there on the tour went off without a hitch and fans in every city were rabid for the new album. And of course Steve. Goddamnit. He’d occasionally see people in the crowd with “#stevesnuggles” t-shirts, or hear chants of “We want Steve!” Yeah, Eddie gets it. He wants Steve too. For himself.

Eddie took to posting a lot of videos from backstage with the band, sound checks, screwing around with the crew. And of course to appease the masses, some of Steve in his element. Putting on Gareth’s eyeliner, helping Jeff pick out his stage clothes, and rubbing Eddie’s shoulders after a grueling show. Just Steve mother henning everyone.

When they made it to New York, they had an appearance on SNL a few days before their concert. They got to catch up with Robin, meet the cast, and get a feel for what went into producing the show. Eddie hadn’t heard who the host was, not that it probably mattered much since they’d only see them at the end-of-show sign off.

He was in the middle of doing a livestream behind the scenes, walking the legendary halls of Studio 8H when he popped into his dressing room to show off the digs. “And here we have my office for the night…. Uh. Stevie? What? The fuck?” He turned the camera around to see Steve snuggled up with… goddamn Beyoncé.

“Hey babe! Did you meet Bee yet? She’s hosting tonight!”

No the fuck he didn’t meet “Bee!” And sorry, his husband is already on a nickname basis with this Queen?! Who the hell did he marry??

Goodbye internet.

“HOLY. SHIT.”

“Seriously, gay men have all the luck.”

“Two absolute queens, omg”

“BEYONCÉ GETS #STEVESNUGGLES OMG!!!”

“Eddie, your husband belongs to Bee now, my condolences”

“Don’t tell Jay Z”

The show went well even though Eddie was visibly shook by his husband’s new friend. Seriously, what is his life?! How much further was this going to go? He was relieved when the tour finally ended and they could go back to their bubble of domestic bliss. That is, until the next girls night probably!

Once they were back home and settled into their routine, he realized he needed to make some more content now that things have calmed down. Privacy was always important to him, but after a night of taking his husband apart over and over, he smirked and had an idea.

Quietly grabbing his phone off the nightstand, he started recording. Steve with his chaotic sex hair, neck covered in hickies, and curled up sound asleep on Eddie’s chest. A chest that was decorated in tattoos and nipple piercings, as well as fresh scratch marks. Eddie smirked at the camera, winked and whispered “hashtag Steve snuggles.”

RIP internet.

[the-flaneur]

Hi can I request from lab 2, a boiling flask with a sticker on it and in it nitrogen, sulphur, gallium , rubidium,silver, tin and antimony with lemon juice and fruit as catalyst with Sebastian Vettel pls!!!!!

partners in crime (sv5)

pairing: rbr!sebastian vettel x rbr driver!reader

nitrogen "the problem is, if i kissed you, i don't think i'd be able to stop." + gallium "are you trying to flirt with me?" "is it working?" + rubidium "you’re starting another cult. you bitch" + silver "i don’t want to be able to walk tomorrow.” + tin "i know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that" + antimony "after all this time and you still can't look me in the eye" & lemon juice driver!reader + fruit married couple/established relationship

warnings: seb is a bit mean to reader, hints of misogyny at red bull and 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut ft. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), angry sex, makeup sex, size kink, rough sex

wc: 3300

a/n: this was definitely a plentiful mix of chemicals (but couldn't manage to fit sulphur in T_T), but i still hope anon enjoys :P

[masterlist] [requests]

the roar of the engines echoed through the pit lane as you stepped out of your comforting blue and red racing suit, sweat-dampened hair clinging to flushed cheeks. you had followed this routine to perfection before, as a once promising young driver in the red bull junior program. but life had taken an unexpected turn - marrying your childhood sweetheart sebastian vettel had come at the expense of the seat which was once yours, falling through after intense media backlash and a lack of sponsors.

until today - mark had fallen ill at the last minute - red bull had no other choice but to throw open the door for you to reclaim your place. your heart had raced with a mix of excitement and trepidation at christian’s phone call. this was a chance to prove yourself all over again, to show everyone what you were capable of.

following the free practice session, you strode confidently through the bustling paddock, the flashing cameras and eager reporters and fans swarmed around you like a whirlwind. despite the chaos, you held your head high, a dazzling smile plastered across your face as you basked in the spotlight.

"y/n, how does it feel to be back in the hot seat?" a journalist called out, their microphone thrust forward, "and tell us what this means for your relationship with sebastian - you are both finally racing against each other…”

you laughed affectionately, slinging an arm around sebastian, who had sidled up beside you, "we of course work well together with each other and the team…" you replied, resting a hand on his arm affectionately.

"but well we all cant be the red bull golden boy,” you smirked playfully at your comment, while sebastian stuck out his tongue at you. "your wife’s got to keep you humble, huh" you retorted, poking him in the chest, "can't let that ego of yours get too big now, can we?"

he chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "with you around, i doubt that's possible." his gaze drifted to the throng of fans still calling out your name, snapping photos and waving eagerly. "they really love you, don't they? my little celebrity."

with a blush creeping up your neck, you waved at the adoring crowd, their enthusiasm infectious. you preened under the attention, reveling in the admiration. being in the limelight, having people look up to you... it was exhilarating. addictive, almost. you knew sebastian understood that pull all too well.

"you’re starting another cult. you bitch," sebastian teased fondly.

you laughed, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him close. "guilty as charged," you purred, your lips brushing against his ear. "but you know you love it. being married to the most popular driver on the grid has its perks, doesn't it?"

“don’t let lewis here you say that,” sebastian muttered gravely, “speak of the devil…”

you both turned to see lewis approaching, his signature grin wide and charming as ever. he waved at the gathered crowd before zeroing in on you and sebastian. "well well well, if it isn't the couple of f1," lewis drawled, pulling you into a friendly hug, before shaking hands with sebastian. "good to see you back in the game, y/n. those red bull boys must be thrilled to have you filling in."

sebastian rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "careful what you say, lewis. y/n might start a bidding war at mercedes."

lewis winked at you conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. "oh, i think she'd be worth every penny. just imagine the sparks flying between us on track... the whole world would be talking about the 'hamilton-y/n show'."

you giggled, batting your eyelashes coyly at the suggestion "are you trying to flirt with me? maybe we should stage a mock battle during qualifying to give the fans a real spectacle." lewis grinned, “is it working?” sebastian groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose as the two of you bickered.

leaving lewis chuckling to himself, you and sebastian made your way back towards the garage, the sound of busy team members growing louder with each step. the air was thick with the scent of gasoline and rubber, mingling with the hum of anticipation that always seemed to permeate the atmosphere in the hours leading up to a race.

you glanced around at the garage, soaking in your place at the helm of the team, finally, just finally able to put yourself out there and onto the track. "all this time waiting for a chance to get back behind the wheel, and now i get to share it with you," you murmured to sebastian.

our heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline surging through your veins. this was it. the moment you'd been longing for. sebastian led you over to the sleek car, its livery gleaming in the bright lights. he placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "you've got this, babe. just like old times."

leaning in, you wanted to give sebastian a kiss, but you teasingly pulled away as he leant back towards you, “hey!” he called out indignantly, trying to wrap his arms around your waist. 

"the problem is, if i kissed you, i don't think i'd be able to stop. and as much as christian loves you, i dont think he wants his star driver fucking his wife against their multimillion dollar cars,” you giggled, as sebastian pinned you against your car.

“we’ll do it after the race then,” he eagerly asserts, planting one last kiss on your forehead before heading into his car.

as the lights went out, you felt a surge of energy coursing through your body. the rush of adrenaline was intoxicating, the roar of the engines drowning out everything else. this was what you lived for - the thrill of competition, the challenge of pushing yourself to the limit. 

and you had finally, finally reclaimed that chance for yourself.

sebastian pulled alongside you as you navigated the first lap, exchanging a glance filled with competitive fire. the two of you had always pushed each other to be better, both on and off the track. and now, with the entire world watching, the stakes were higher than ever. as the laps ticked by, you found yourself locked in a fierce battle with him, the two of you trading places and fighting for every inch of track. the tension between you was palpable, an bubbling undercurrent that threatened to boil over at any moment.

your earpiece crackled to life, the voice of the engineer piercing through the din of the engine and the crowd. "y/n, horner wants you to back off on sebastian," he urged. "we don't want to risk damaging the car or jeopardising our chances at either championship." but even as the words registered, you couldn't bring yourself to let up on your lead. the urge to win, to prove yourself superior to both your husband and the team, was too strong. you ignored the warning, focusing instead on maintaining your narrow lead.

as if fate itself had intervened, sebastian's car suddenly locked up, causing him to clip the barrier and sending him careening into the wall. the crowd gasped in shock, watching sebastian climb out of the smoking wreck of his redbull, your car sailing off into the distance.

you hurriedly asked your engineer if your husband was ok, frantically trying to peer into the mirrors to see if you could see any sign of him walking out of the wreckage. you breathed a heavy sigh of release when he reported that sebastian was in fact ok, and heading back to the garage, but urged you to continue on and win the race.

you were now desperate to win, lewis’ mclaren approaching faster than you hoped from behind. you needed to do it. for yourself. for sebastian. but fuck redbull, you cheerfully giggled, clenching your hands harder against the wheel.

you were going to win it.

your heart raced as you crossed the line, the checkered flag waving triumphantly above you. you had done it. finally. you had become a grand prix winner. the first woman to win a grand prix in formula 1 history. the elation was overwhelming, a rush of power and dominance that left you breathless, as you sat in the car, your head in your gloved hands. 

with the roaring crowd, you leapt into the arms of the mechanics, your name finally being shouted across parc ferme, the joyous sound ringing in your ears as hands slapped against your back in glee. 

but sebastian wasn’t there among the team's well-wishers. only as you finally stepped on top of the winner’s podium besides lewis and fernando, your heart pounding in your chest, did you catch his eye from below, a tight smile plastered on his face.

after the ceremony, you found yourself alone in your- well mark’s driver’s room, the bustle of activity fading into the background. the ache in your muscles from the physical exertion of the race mixed with a different kind of tension, one that seemed to vibrate through every cell of your being. the tension between you and sebastian was palpable, the usual banter and playful jabs were absent, replaced by a heavy silence that hung in the air like a challenge. you could sense the unspoken words, the simmering resentment, but you refused to back down.

sebastian stood in the doorway, his usually confident and loving stride tempered by a hint of frustration. "congratulations," he said, his tone measured. 

you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down, "what’s with the attitude? i drove my ass off out there. you know as well as i do that i earned this win." his eyes narrowed, the air between you growing thicker with unspoken hostility. "maybe so, but we're teammates today. we're supposed to support each other, not sabotage each other's chances. i’m in it to win the title this year, you’re not,"

“say that to my fucking face vettel. just try me,” you snarled, pulling your husband into the room. sebastian stumbled forwards, catching himself against the bed. his eyes widened in surprise at your sudden aggression, but a smirk soon curled his lips. "oh, so now you want to play rough?" he taunted, straightening up and closing the distance between you.

before you could react, he grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "after all this time, and you still can't look me in the eye. you think you can handle me, babe?" his thumb brushed against your lower lip, sending a shiver down your spine despite the anger burning within you.

without breaking eye contact, he leaned in, his hot breath washing over your face. "because i'm more than happy to show you exactly what happens when you cross me.” with a growl, you wrenched free from sebastian's grasp, spinning around to face him fully. your chest heaved with pent-up fury, the fabric of your racing suit straining against your breasts. "you think you're so much better than me, don't you?" you spat, hands clenched into fists at your sides.

sebastian chuckled darkly, the sound sending a chill down your spine. "better? no, i just know how to handle a brat like you." he took another step closer, his presence dominating the small space. "you want to play dirty? fine. let's see who comes out on top." in a flash, he pinned you against the wall, his body caging yours in. you struggled against him, but his grip was unyielding. "you're mine, y/n," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. 

"i don't want to be able to walk tomorrow. bet you can’t do it," you hissed, grinding your hips against sebastian's thigh in defiance. the friction sent sparks of pleasure through your core, despite the anger fueling your actions.

sebastian's eyes flashed with desire at your boldness, his grip tightening on your wrists. "is that so?" he purred, leaning in to nip at your earlobe. with a wicked grin, sebastian released your wrists, only to grab a fistful of your racing suit and yank it down, exposing your bare skin to the cool air of the garage. he muttered dirty things, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip before dipping lower to cup your sex through the damp fabric of your underwear.

you bit back a moan, your body betraying your resolve as his touch ignited a flame of lust within you. "fuck, sebastian," you breathed, arching into his palm. "you always knew how to push my buttons." he chuckled, the sound husky with arousal. "that's because i know you, darling. i know exactly what gets you going." with a swift motion, he tore your panties aside, his middle finger plunging deep into your slick channel without preamble.

"ah, fuck yes," you groaned, your inner walls clenching around sebastian's invading digit. the sudden intrusion sent a jolt of pleasure through your core, making your knees buckle slightly. sebastian's grip on your hips steadied you, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing firm circles around the sensitive nub.

"you're so wet for me already," he praised, pumping his finger in and out of your dripping pussy. "i bet you've been thinking about this all day, haven't you? wondering what i'd do if you beat me." his words struck a chord, and you nodded frantically, unable to deny the truth. "yes, goddammit! i wanted to win, but...but i also wanted you to punish me for it."

sebastian's grin was pure sin as he added a second finger, stretching and filling you further.

"punish you?" he repeated, his voice low and husky with desire. "oh, i intend to, darling. but first..." withdrawing his fingers from your soaked cunt, he brought them to his mouth, licking them clean with relish. "mmm, you taste even better than i imagined."

your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and arousal as you watched him savor your essence. when he finished, he grasped the hem of your suit and pulled it down further, exposing your pert nipples to the chilly air. they pebbled instantly, begging for attention.

"beautiful," sebastian murmured, cupping your breasts and rolling the hardened tips between his thumbs and forefingers. "just like i remember." he leaned in, capturing one nipple between his lips and suckling firmly, sending shocks of pleasure straight to your throbbing clit.

moaning, you threaded your fingers through sebastian's hair, holding him close as he lavished attention on your breasts. the dual sensations of his tongue and fingers working in tandem had you teetering on the edge of climax, your body trembling with need.

but sebastian wasn't done yet. with a final, possessive kiss to your nipple, he released it and straightened up, a wicked glint in his eye. "time to put your money where your mouth is, darling," he purred, reaching for the zipper of his own racing suit.

you watched, breathless, as he revealed his chiseled physique inch by delicious inch. his cock sprang free, hard and thick and beautifully erect, the tip glistening with pre-cum. your mouth watered at the sight, and you licked your lips unconsciously.

sebastian's eyes followed the movement of your tongue, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "look what you do to me, sweetheart," he said, his voice heavy with lust. "you have no idea how long i've fantasized about bending you over and taking you right here, in front of everyone."

with that, he stepped forward, pressing you harder against the wall. his hand slid down to grip your throat, applying just enough pressure to assert dominance while still allowing you to breathe. "tell me you want it," he commanded, his cock brushing against your stomach, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. "tell me you need me inside you, claiming you as mine."

the roughness of his touch, combined with the raw desire etched on his face, left you weak in the knees. you nodded frantically, desperate for release. "yes, goddamn it!" you choked out, your voice strained from both his grip on your throat and the intensity of your arousal. "i want it, i need it. please, sebastian, fuck me!"

emboldened by your submission, he released your neck and spun you around, pinning you face-first against the cold metal of the bed. you felt the press of his muscular body against your back as he reached around to spread your thighs apart, baring your dripping sex to his hungry gaze. "mmm, look at you," he groaned, his fingers trailing through your slick folds. "so ready for me. you're going to feel every inch of my cock, darling."

you whimpered, pushing your hips back in an attempt to impale yourself on his thick member. sebastian chuckled darkly, enjoying your desperation. "patience, sweetheart," he cooed, his breath hot against your ear. with deliberate slowness, he pushed forward, the broad head of his dick parting your slick folds. you cried out at the sensation, your walls clenching reflexively around the intrusion. sebastian paused, giving you time to adjust, before gradually sinking deeper, inch by glorious inch.

"fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his pace increasing as he filled you completely. once he was buried to the hilt, he stilled, letting you acclimate to the feeling of being so thoroughly stuffed.

you panted heavily, your mind reeling from the sheer size of sebastian's cock inside you. it stretched you to the limit, the slight discomfort only adding to the intense pleasure coursing through your veins.

after a moment, sebastian began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained nestled within your entrance before surging back in, driving deep once more. the rhythm was relentless, each powerful thrust sending shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through your core. "take it, darling," he growled, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. "take every fucking inch of my cock."

you could only moan in response, lost to the primal sensations consuming you. the slap of flesh against flesh echoed through the room, punctuating the obscene sounds of your bodies coming together in carnal union.

"i know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.” he smirked, the bench creaking beneath your combined weight, the metal frame straining against the force of his thrusts. you braced yourself against the surface, your fingers digging into the cold steel as he drove you closer to the brink of climax with every stroke.

suddenly, he shifted his angle, hitting that sweet spot deep within your pussy that made stars explode behind your eyelids. "sebastian!" you wailed, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. your inner muscles spasmed wildly, milking his cock as waves of intense pleasure washed through you.

through it all, sebastian didn't relent, continuing to rut into you with abandon, chasing his own release. "fuck, i'm gonna cum," he snarled, his movements becoming erratic as he neared the edge.

with a final, brutal thrust, sebastian pushed himself fully inside you, his cock pulsing as he spilled his hot seed deep into your fluttering channel. you could feel each thick spurt painting your insides, marking you as his. "fuuuck, take it all," he groaned, grinding against your ass as he emptied the last drops of his essence into your well-used pussy. the sensation of his warm cum filling you, combined with the aftershocks of your own intense orgasm, left you boneless and trembling.

“ughhhh still fuck you seb, you could’ve at least cut your wife some slack for racing you. after all, who else was going to,” you huff, trying to tug back on your racing suit, fingers brushing against your now soaked mound, as sebastian smirked behind you.

“i know you love me, my partner in crime,” he teased, sweeping you into a hug, as you grinned back.

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[zablife]

Silver Fox

Tommy Shelby x female reader

A/N: Something I penned to rid myself of writer's block! A fun bit of smut inspired by Tommy's new look for the upcoming film. 🔞

The man across the room looked familiar, the proud posture and energetic gait the same as you remembered from years ago. However, the locks of silver hair that fell across his forehead were decidedly changed. The last time you saw Thomas Shelby, it was nothing more than salt and pepper. Had it really been such a long time? you wondered.

As you contemplated the years since you'd had him in your bed, he materialized before you with two glasses of champagne. "Care to have a drink with an old friend?" he asked with a smirk.

"Is that what we are?" you asked coyly, hand outstretched to receive the crystal flute he extended like a peace offering.

"I hope so," he winked, raising his glass toward you.

"To old friends, then," you agreed with a smile. It was all too easy to be swept along by his charm, especially as the fizzy bubbles on your tongue went to your head. Soon you found yourself nodding enthusiastically at his invitation to take the party somewhere more private.

As he placed a large hand to the small of your back, you fooled yourself into believing he was only after a bit of political advice. In his early days in Parliament, he often sought your council in addition to Ada's.

However, the moment the door to his hotel room closed, neither of you could pretend any longer. As he pressed you against the back of the door for a smoldering kiss, the spark reignited between you grew to a blazing inferno.

"I missed you, Tommy," you mumbled against his plush lips, hand sliding down the front of his neatly pressed trousers.

"I've missed you too, darling," he whispered, nimble fingers unbuttoning your blouse to reveal your heaving chest.

Your hands traveled up his neck and laced into the silky strands of hair you'd been admiring, a chuckle leaving your lips.

Raising his head from your bosom with an amused look and quirked brow, he asked, "Something funny?"

"Thomas Shelby is a mortal man after all," you exclaimed, fingers carding through his thick head of hair and holding the graying ends to the light. Something about him had always seemed infallible and eternal, but he was now wearing the proof of his age.

The man once known as the Devil of Small Heath chuckled in reply. "Just an ordinary man," he admitted with paradoxical smugness, teeth grazing over a pert nipple.

You gasped as he began to suck, fingers tightening in his hair to hold him in place. "Nothing about you has ever been ordinary," you mused, the ache between your thighs growing as you recalled his skill in the bedroom.

As though reading your mind, his long fingers ventured beneath your skirt to brush against your clothed core. Inhaling sharply at the wetness collecting on the front of your underwear, he lifted his head back to your full lips intent on hearing every sound when he pulled the delicate fabric aside to trace his fingertip around your clit.

You grazed the tip of your nose against his playfully as you wondered, "Think you've still got it?"

He nodded against your soft skin in reply, too consumed by you to speak.

"Then fuck me like you used to," you begged wantonly in his ear.

"Mmmm, you're as naughty as I remember," his deep voice rumbled against your chest in approval. Fingers plunging into your waiting heat, he smirked as your hands came unclasped and fell to his shoulders. As he stroked your g-spot, you grappled for purchase at the intense sensation. You'd never been able to stave off your first orgasm long this way. He knew from the numerous times he'd made you cum while his colleagues waited behind his office door.

Eyes drifting to the mirror in the corner, you watched his muscular arm tense beneath the white cotton shirt as he pleasured you. He might have been a bit older, but his body still looked like that of a younger man and you couldn't wait to tear the fabric from his body to see every chiseled line. With that thought, you rocked your hips into the palm of his hand, eager to release the coil pulling taught in your abdomen.

Sensing you were close from the way your cunt began to throb around his digits, Tommy dropped to his knees before you and slid a hand behind your ass. Pulling you closer to his eager mouth, he lapped at your little bud to keep you on edge.

This was also something you remember about him, the teasing which could go on for hours. There was no way you were lasting that long now. You swung a leg over his shoulder, hand flying to his head to silently urge him for more.

"Going to be greedy, are we?" he hummed, holding you away from him with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Please...need you, Tommy," you panted, so close to release you could feel your clit throbbing.

"Since you asked so nicely," he agreed, fingers scissoring inside you to produce a loud squelching that made you shiver from the obscene sound. His mouth soon joined, pillowy lips closing over your clit as he began to suck.

That was all it took to release a crashing wave of tingly warmth throughout your entire body. Head thrown back in ecstasy, you felt your body quake in little spasms as he continued to fuck you through it.

"That's it, good girl," he praised in a low voice dripping with need.

You looked down between your legs to find him placing a chaste kiss to your mound. Little glimmers of light winked back at you from his crown of silver hair, though you couldn't be sure if it was the delicious haze of pleasure still sparkling in your vision.

Sweeping the fringe from his face to watch him pepper your thighs and belly with kisses, you tried to calm your breathing for round two. "You haven't changed a bit," you huffed out with a laugh.

"I've only gotten better with age, love," he assured you with a cocky grin.

"Show me," you challenged, though you didn't doubt it at all.