#WIP (this shit ain’t never getting done)
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lesmeltingpot · 5 months ago
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New pfp for pride month gais
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zialltops · 11 months ago
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honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s
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Joel (41) / F!reader (25) | 4.7k | wip | explicit | 18+ minors dni | enemies to lovers | slow burn | au: no cordyceps outbreak
Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky attitude or her sinfully tight jeans.
a/n: hi guys!! I’m fresh off finishing east side of sorrow and couldn’t wait to hop into this work. I can not thank everyone enough for the fun we had with esos, but i am beyond stoked to meet this joel because i am ferallllll for him all dirty on a ranch with a cowboy hat on a horse ughhhh, give it to me already. anyways, let me know if you like it 🤍 thank you to @sawymredfox for letting me idea dump on you and give me all kinda of ideas! i love you to pieces! this ones for you my dear!
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A03 Link | Spotify Link | Masterlink
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Pt. 1: Oklahoma Smokeshow
Half a mile from the turnpike, two miles from home, along the winding and twisting asphalt of Cold Creek road, Joel Miller rasps his gloved hand against the steering wheel of the Rising Sun Ranch’s newly bought—second (maybe fifth?) hand old pickup truck. A beat up nineties chevy with rust on the floorboard and a new-car tree hanging from the rearview mirror. Beside him, his brother Tommy bounces his knee while he takes a long drag off his second cigarette since this drive started. The smoke plumes through the window, then back inside when the chill outside pushes the hot smoke back into the cab, whirling around Joel's senses like it belongs there. The smell is insufferable and makes Joel’s skin crawl, takes him to a time before ropers scars and belt buckles.
“Know that shit’s gon’ kill you, right?” He doesn’t need to look over at his brother's form beside him to know the younger man is anxious, like he usually is on long car rides. “You used to do it too, big brother.” Joel scuffs at him, keeps his one gloved hand on the wheel as he keeps on driving. He’s not wrong, if he wants to talk about the Joel of ten years ago, a distant, ragged and angry version of himself. “Don’t remind me.” He keeps his eyes fixed on the snow coated road ahead of him. He’s cautious at this time of the year, the winter storms usually leave them stranded on the ranch for a few weeks, but he’s lucky enough to have caught the dark clouds before they started to let down too much. The salt on the roads seem to do the trick for the time being, so long as he stays away from the embankment and keeps his eyes on the dimming road ahead.
It was mid day, but the sun sets early in the winter, so it hangs low in the sky amongst the cold abyss, like it’s desperately reaching out for the horizon—like it wants to run from this place too. He looks ahead and silently wishes to himself that he could follow those last rays of sunshine into tomorrow, like maybe he would find something there.
He shakes the thought and sets his mind back on track, why they were out here. “When we get back to the ranch, you need to find a way to apologize to Miss Lou. She really was just tryin’ to be helpful, Tommy. She ain’t wrong for that.” Louise had always been more than welcoming and kind to them, she’s saved their asses more than once and she feeds them more than she needs to, but his brother can never seem to let a good thing be, always biting the hand that attempted to feed him.
“Don’t like it when people go through my shit, man, you know that.” He’s nearly done with his cigarette, thank fuck because Joel wants to grab it from his hand himself and chuck it out the window. “She wasn’t goin’ through your stuff, dipshit, she was doin’ your laundry! Doesn’t give you any right to snap at someone like that. Especially a nice lady who’s husband give’s us a dollar in our pocket and a roof over our heads. Do you have any Idea where we’d be without that?”
It cuts deep because Tommy flicks his butt out the window and sinks down in his seat, he knows Joel is right because they are incredibly lucky to be where they are now. They would probably never find somewhere as appealing as their little shared hunting cabin a half mile from the main house. “Hank ain’t happy,” he adds, like Tommy doesn’t already know that after the argument that led to them leaving. “We wouldn’t be out in a goddamned snow storm for fuckin’ flowers if Hank was happy.”
Joel finally glances over, but when he does, it’s at the bouquet of flowers sitting beside him on the bench seat. “Doesn’t matter, you still need to apologize—to both of them. We wouldn’t have shit if it weren’t for them—“ they wouldn’t, they were on their last leg, hitchhiking across half the country when they found an ad outside of the feed store in Jackson looking for a ranch hand in exchange for room and board. Joel gave them two for the price of one and the rest was history. Tommy makes an annoyed sound and interrupts. “Joel, what's that?” Directly in front of them, on the side of the road caught in an embankment is a little blue car sunk all the way down to the lug nuts. It doesn’t look like the person lost control, but they just drove into the embankment.
This road isn’t frequented and the cell service is spotty, but the taillights on the car tell him there's someone inside. “I’m stoppin’ to help,'' Joel informs him, but Tommy shifts and rolls his eyes—he’s never been the humanitarian type. “Why? I’m sure they can pay for a tow truck. Besides, if they are stupid enough to get stuck in an embankment, they can suffer.” Usually, Joel would agree, but the closer they get to Christmas, the more that iced over heart of his starts to thaw out.
Joel stops the truck on the road and leaves it running while he looks over at his brother. “Ain’t leavin’ nobody stuck out here in this storm, even if they’re stupid. They won't make it through the night.” He shuts the door behind him and stuffs his hands into his pockets. An agitated gust of air leaves his lungs in the form of cloudy condensation amongst the snowfall. He walks up to the car, leaning down so he can glance inside without getting too close. Through the fogged window, he can make out the figure of a woman leaned against the steering wheel, her face casted by her hair hanging all around while she slumps her head against the wheel. Stupid—stupid girl. What the hell is she doing way out here?
He rasps against the window and she jolts just as Tommy comes up behind him, finally having left the comfort of the truck cab. “S’a girl, should have guessed.” Tommy interjects with a crude tone, thankfully before she rolls the window down. She looks a little scared and a lot embarrassed, her eyes are red like she’s been crying her heart out. It doesn’t make Joel sad, it makes him uncomfortable. Emotions make his skin crawl, make him uneasy. He doesn’t handle people crying well, he doesn’t know how to react to it, what he should say or do.
“You need someone to pull you out?” He asks, trying his best to sound mellow tempered and helpful. He’s not, but he won't be able to sleep tonight if he has to drive by the coroner unsticking her frozen body from the seats in the morning. “I’m so sorry—I was checking my phone because my mom texted me and I didn’t see the corner—“ stuck in the snow because she was on her fucking phone? “You hit a snow embankment because you were textin’? You dim or somethin’, girl?” She gives him a hard glance, eyebrows pulled together tightly. “I’m not dim, but I can tell you’re dense.”
Tommy scuffs from beside him and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ll grab the chain,” he tells his brother as he heads towards the truck. “I’m gonna pull you out, but after that you’re on your own, kid. This storm is just starin’, might be smart if you headed back to whatever city you blew in from.”
She’s the furthest thing from appreciative when Joel hooks a chain to the frame of her car and the hitch on the front of the old red chevy. When she gets out of the little blue car, Joel gets the full extent of how unprepared she is for a full on impending whiteout snowstorm. Her pants have rips and holes, like they are meant to be there, no way they are offering any kind of protection from the chill. Her boots have a three inch heel like she’s walking along some new york sidewalk with a tiny dog in her arms. She has a jacket, fur lining the hood and yet she’s still shaking like it all does nothing to protect her from the snow.
“Thank you for doing this, but I really could have called a tow truck or something. They probably would have been a lot nicer about it.” Her voice is dripping with disdain when he stands upright again. “You want nice, or you want to be dead? Because there ain’t no company sending a driver out here when were forecasted to get two feet overnight.”
She puts her hands on her hips in an attempted threatening manner, like that might scare Joel into an apology when she looks like an angry child who didn’t get their way. Joel hated people like this, too good for the world with their nose up in the air. He turns around to head back to the truck when he spots the piles of boxes in her back seat. Great—another fuckin’ know it all who think’s living out here is romantic and rustic. “You movin’ out here somewhere? You know there ain’t a mall for like, a hundred and fifty miles, right?”
She’s irritated now, with all the rude comments Joel is throwing her way—but he doesn’t care because the last thing this place needs is more city people thinking they can tame this untouched land. It shouldn’t bother him, because how long could she really last out here anyways? With those three inch heels and clothes fit for a concrete jungle, not muddy plains and cattle. She won't make it a month out here in the dead of winter.
“Just pull my car out, or leave me be, because the last thing I need right now is to get harassed by some old dumb fuck cowboy.” Dumb cowboy? Old? Like he’s the fucking moron out here in the middle of a blizzard in a car with bald ass tires and pants with holes in them. Maybe he should fucking leave, let her strand around trying to find a signal to call a tow company that wont come. “You know what?” Teach her a lesson, maybe then she’ll learn this place isn’t for people like her. With her done up hair and makeup—she’s pretty, unnaturally so—like she’s trying to damn hard to look that good—god damnit—“walk around in those stupid fucking shoes and see if you can find your own way out,” he leans down and undoes the hook under her car roughly. “Come on Tommy, were out of here.” She stomps her foot in the snow and starts to pace back to her car.
Joel makes his way back to the truck and unhooks the chain from the front. He’s had a long fucking day of taking care of his idiot bothers problems and he doesn’t have the patience to help some girl who doesn’t know what’s good for her.
“Hey, big brother.” It’s Tommy’s voice in his ears when he finally closes the door behind himself, huffing in discontent as he puts it in gear. “What.” He snaps, backing away from the stuck car and those sinfully tight jeans on that tight little—mother fucking son of a bitch, stop it!—he cant stand people like her, fucking with his head and getting under his skin. The type of girls who have looked him up and down and laughed in his face at the thought of someone like him being up to standard for someone like them. That snot nosed brat can sit in the snow, for all he cares.
“No need to get all hostile at me, man—I’m just checkin’ on ya. You’re all red and pissy, and nothin’ gets you all worked up like that.” He shrugs beside him with a cocky sort of snort. “I mean, unless—“ Joel jerks on the wheel and sneers over at his brother. “Drop it. Not another fucking word or I’ll leave you here too.”
Tommy’s jaw snaps shut and he looks out the passenger window, the radio playing quietly while the storm picks up, and the road carries on. Joel doesn’t think about what he’s done, only how his knee bounces and his hands flex the whole way back to the ranch. How his heart pounds and his blood rushes and it makes his head throb.
When they pull into the muddy drive, he shuts off the truck and turns towards his brother and the bouquet of flowers. “You really need to mean it when you talk to them, I’m serious. They are nice people who’ve looked out for us for two years. We owe them that, at least.” His little brother seems serious when he nods, so Joel passes him the flowers and heads inside. They have sacrificed so much to help Joel and Tommy. They’d been through dark winters with them, when they lost half the herd to the cold and Joel spent the night in the barn with what was left to make sure they all stayed upright and dry. They’ve all had empty bellies at night, didn’t have two nickels to rub together between the four of them and they’ve stood by each others sides through it. They’ve seen Tommy lose his shit a few times, too—so they know he’s capable of coming back from it. He just hopes this time wasn’t too far—Tommy had yelled at her for simply washing his clothes for him.
When the door to the big white farm house creaks open, Joel steps inside to the warm scent of roast in the oven and potatoes on the stove, Hank in his recliner with the newspaper in his hand and his reading glasses on while the game plays in the background. Hank was a large man, kind of chubby in the joyous kind of way, kind eyes and balding on the top. He laughs a lot, but he takes no shit while he’s at it.
“Kitchen,” Joel directs Tommy, who makes his way to the conjoining room where Louise was probably busy cooking dinner. Joel makes his way over to the couch across from Hank, who drops his paper and gives Joel a long look. “You talk to him?” He nods his head and glances down at his snowy boots. “He’s been real anxious all day. Storm comin’ in is messin’ with him and he knows it's no excuse to snap at anyone. He’s in there apologizin’.”
The older man nods at him and glances over his shoulder where Joel can barely see Tommy handing her the bouquet. “She was really shaken up over it, I hate seeing her so upset. She’s been excited all day and trying to make the house looks nice. I think it was just a misunderstanding, but don’t give him any excuse to yell at her like that.”
Joel twists his hands around and looks up at Hank who wears a solemn expression. “I know, I’m real sorry, Hank.”
The man across from him sigh, then offers a faint smile as he stands from his chair. “It’s alright. You boys are like family, families fight—it happens. Lets get some dinner, forget about all this mess, alright?” Joel is thankful for the reason to drop the conversation and stands with the older man as they head towards the kitchen. Louise and Tommy are talking quietly, smiling at each other until she reaches out and embraces him in a soft looking hug. It's an ease on Joel’s wound tight mind, thinking Tommy had finally thrown a wrench in the only good thing they’ve had in ten years.
Dinner is delicious, savory roast that he can dip soft bread in, let is soak up all the juice that he tries and fails to not get all over his beard. When his bowl is empty and his stomach feels distended, he leans back in his chair and sighs contently. “That was amazing, Miss Lou—I don’t know how you do it.” The smile she gives him isn’t like one of her usuals, it’s slightly saddened and disheartened when she looks across the table at him. For a moment, he worries that Tommy’s words are getting to her again. “Everythin’ okay?” He sits up a little in his chair.
“I'm a little worried. Our daughter was on her way home from college today, she’s finally graduated and she called me this morning to tell me she’d be home before supper, so I made her favorite.” She looks towards the window. “The storm is getting worse, I’m worried her little car wont make it,” Joel’s whole stomach lurches into his throat and he nearly throws up in his hands. “I told you we should have gotten her a truck, Hank, you know she’s not the best driver in snow.”
Fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck!—he’s such a fucking idiot. He knew she was coming home today, Lou has been talking about it for weeks, the impending return of the prodigy child, home with a degree to save the ranch—or whatever it is that she was doing. He’d heard them talk about her so many times, she was all brains and no know-how, Hank always talked about how clumsy and awkward she was, but how brilliant her mind was at the same time. He’d always questioned how uncoordinated she really was, based on the photos of her as a young woman roping in the rodeo. Fuck—he should have recognized her... “What’s her name again?” Tommy asks like he has no fucking clue Joel is losing his ever loving shit right now. They left her stranded on the side of the road in the middle of this damn snow storm. He hears Louise say her name but it doesn’t register because he feels like he’s on fire and drownings at the same time. “But everyone’s always called her Honey. Since she was a little little thing. She was always so ornery and stubborn until one day she got into a bee box and got covered in bee stings. Ever since that day she was so sweet, so we started calling her Honey.” Lou has this soft smile and all Joel can think about is how he’d told her to crawl back to whatever city she came from in her stupid fucking shoes. “She’s got a real mouth on her till something puts her straight.” Hank chuckles and Joel abruptly stands from his seat.
“I’m finished, I can go out and have a look incase she got stuck somewhere.” He slings on his jacket, but Tommy is still eating and doesn’t think much of it—dumb ass. “Are you sure? She’s probably fine, she knows better than to get caught out in these storms, she probably got a hotel in town.” Joel shakes his head at them and throws on his thick Carhartt jacket that Hank gave him his first winter here after watching him shiver in the fields. “I’m sure, it’s gettin’ bad, just gonna make sure she ain’t stuck somewhere.” Joel makes his way out the door quickly, grabbing the keys to the truck that they had given to him—“how are you supposed to manage a ranch if you don’t have a way to get around?”
He starts up the old chevy and it fires to life despite the snow coming down in heaps now. He’s worried about the road back to her car, about the probably eight inches lining the long driveway, but he throws it in four wheel drive and tries his damndest to get through it because despite all the things stacking up against him, his biggest worry is the police finding her frozen to death in the morning and her parents faces when they find out it was Joel who abandoned her there to die. God—he’s such a prick.
The road is slippery and tricky, a winding snow covered path along the hillside leading towards Jackson. It takes him twenty minutes in this blizzard to get there, all he can think about the entire time is the half freezing girl hiding in her car and the warm food in his belly that was meant for her. He stops the truck when he gets to the car, the lights are off and it looks abandoned—his gut lurches again, what if he’s already too late? Two hours have passed since he left her stranded and the sun has set now, real cold is creeping in.
He jumps out of the truck and walks up to the window. He can't see inside because the glass is fogged, so she has to be alive in there. He knocks on the window and the door jerks against the cold. “Hey,” he pulls the door open more, she’s sitting in the driver seat, pale and shaking with a small blanket pulled around her to keep in some warmth. The look she gives him could kill a man if he didn’t feel like he was already going to die the second she tells her parents that he left her there.
“Y-Your conscious f-finally get to y-you, asshole?” She’s absolutely shaking, her fingers look purple. “I’m so sorry—C’mon, it’s warm in the truck.” He reaches for her hand, but she snaps it away from him like he might burn her. “I c-can get o-out on my own.” She can and does, wobbles on her too tall heels and starts to head towards the running truck. Joel grabs the door for her and she sneers at him—yeah, yeah—he deserves that. He closes the door behind her and runs over to the other side. When he jumps in, she’s got her hands pressed against the heater while she relishes in the welcomed heat.
He pulls away from her trapped car, he’ll come back for it when the snow has cleared up a little bit, but for now—it’s too dangerous to try and yank it out just for it to get stuck in the road because it has no traction. It's ten agonizing minutes of silence while Joel taps his fingers against the steering wheel, trying his damndest to keep a close eye on the woman beside him. She’s warming herself up and thawing out that burning rage Joel knows is inside of her. When they get closer to the driveway, she starts to fire off. “You takin’ me to some backwoods shack to tie me up and keep me?” He scoffs and looks out the windshield, trying to keep the truck steady in the snow.
“If I was going to tie up and keep some girl, I’d make sure she was less bitchy.” She growls at him, growls lowly and it actually does the job, makes his skin prick in goosebumps while he drives. “Wouldn’t be so bitchy if you didn’t leave me on the side of the road. You know I could have died, right?” He is painfully, agonizingly aware of that fact. “I came back, didn’t I?” The driveway is in view, a long fenced path up to the old farm house. “How’d you know I was comin’ here?” Her voice is a tad quieter now, less abrasive on his ears.
“Cus’ I’m comin’ here too.” He says quietly, halfway hoping it won't reach her ears, but her mom was right—she is quick, smart too. “You’re Joel, aren’t you?” She laughs menacingly, crossing her arms across her body and her left leg over her right with a scoff. “You know, my parents said it was Tommy I wouldn’t like. Said you were this big southern gentlemen.” She laughs a little harder, looking over at Joel. “They were half worried they’d have to chase me out of your bed, that you were right up my alley. My daddy said you were the type to charm any woman’s pants off. Guess they don’t know you like they thought they do, huh? Under all that chivalrous facade is just another self centered, selfish cowboy.”
Joel shuts off the truck and glances over at her. “Look, I’m real sorry. First impressions aren’t my strong suit, got a thing for people who don’t belong out here. Didn’t know you were their kid. Would’ve pulled your car out if I’d known.” She opens the door of the cab and steps out into the snow. “So you’re only a good person when someone’s lookin’, I’ll keep that in mind, dickhead.”
She slams the door and storms off towards the house while Joel slumps against the wheel with his head in his hands. Fuck…if it’s not Tommy risking their welcome, their jobs, then it was him, making an absolute ass of himself in-front of the bosses daughter. The bosses fiery, too good—too good looking—
“Son of a bitch!”
He gets into the house ten minutes after she does, his hands stuffed in his pockets and half expecting her parents to kick him out right then and there. He pretty much told her to fuck off and left her to freeze to death. There’s no doubt in his mind that they would have found her dead in the morning, the temperature was below freezing already.
To his surprise, it's quiet when he gets inside. Hank and Louise are in the dining room with their daughter, laughing and smiling and surprised to see her, to see her with Joel. “And he just found you there?” She looks so…so..chipper standing there beside her dad with her arm on his shoulder while he sits at the table. “Yep, got my car stuck because I was texting, I know—not bright.” She sounds so fucking fake and dramatic in her tone, Joel’s hands flex and unflex. “And I couldn’t get out and find a signal because of my stupid fucking shoes. I probably would have died there if not for…good ol’ Joel.” She cocks her head with this shit eating grin on her face that makes Joel's gut clench up and his heart pound.
This fucking bitch—is she blackmailing him right now? In those stupid fucking pants and that top he’s finally getting a glimpse at—and then…shit…
Look at you…just—his brain is going haywire right now. He hates your fucking guts right about now but his brain makes other notes about your guts and its desire to be in them—and that tight ass shirt with your tits just pourin’ out of it—Jesus CHRIST, Joel, get it together here.
He shakes his head, bites the inside of his cheek and meets your eyes, everyone else is looking at you, but you’re looking at him, fully aware of the way his eyes just ate your body up for dessert until he was stuffed. “Real winner you guys have here, mom and dad…real winner.”
If there’s one thing Joel is certain of, it’s that he is in big, big fucking trouble.
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marvelous-slut · 1 year ago
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idk how i keep writing about our boy happy, like i have so many WIPs and two of them are chibs & juice, literally almost done and my brain said “but how about we write one for happy AND finish it all in one day.” like ?? idk guys he has a choke hold over me and i’m not even complaining i love his ass 🫶🏻 anyways here’s to my happy fans i hope y’all enjoy some smut. this also gets no title bc my brain ain’t working enough for that right now, so sorry xx
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SMUT! 18+ ONLY my friends, if you’re younger than 18 please exit left! lots of smut, didn’t proof read
“we’re gonna head to the porn studio boys, gotta talk some business with Luann.” jax says, hoping on his bike. tig stands with happy as he throws his hands up.
“come on man, we’re standing right here and you’re just gonna rub that in our faces.?” jax smirks and straps his helmet on.
“never said you guys couldn’t tag along, i know how much the two of you like pussy.” tig needs to hear no more as he walks over to his bike and hops on. happy decides to join them as he does in-fact love pussy and he definitely loves porn.
_________
immediately when entering Luann’s porn studio, tig is gone. he’s looking around the studio, he’s looking at the half naked women strutting around, he finally stops when he sees a girl on girl scene being filmed. not even a fire could take his eyes off this action. happy follows, looking around himself. he sees spots Luann speaking with a familiar face.
“holy shit.” he mutters out, he recognizes your face and body from anywhere. he’d never admit he had a favorite porn star, he did enjoy most of what he watched, but you in fact got him off quicker and made him harder than any other woman he’d watched on screen. he swears he’s seen every film you’ve had, girl on girl, straight, threesomes, but his favorites were your solos. he notices the tight royal blue dress hugging your body and he feels himself growing harder. once he sees you break away from Luann he decides to take his chances. he watches you wrap a bottle of water around his your lips, he comes over and grabs a bottle as well.
“hey.” he says, feeling like he can hardly speak, you turn around and smile at him.
“hey.” you say back to him, noticing the leather that matches your new business partners SAMCRO. he stares at you for a moment, unsure of what else to say, you decide to break the silence. “cat got your tongue?” you ask him, he puts a head on the back of his head.
“uh. no. you just look familiar.” he says, happy doesn’t usually feel nervous around anyone especially women but he felt like he was meeting a big time celebrity which he guessed that was somewhat accurate.
“which movies your favorite baby?” you ask, running a hand down his leather. he smirks, looking you up and down.
“i prefer the solos.” you smile at him, usually the answer you got from men was girl on girl. you grab his hand, leading him to the back room where you and your girls got ready. thankfully most of them were sniffing around the SAMCRO members, giving them a good time. once the two of you were in the room, you kiss him on the lips roughly.
he runs a hand up to your ass and grasps it, before you know it you feel your back against the wall. you pull away from the kiss to help him take off his kutte, as he’s doing this he also sheds the shirt he wore under. you notice all the tattoos and his muscular body, feeling your body heat up. you’d slept with plenty of men and women, you would think being on camera would take some embarrassment away from off camera sex, but not with this man. at this moment you realize you didn’t even get his name.
you pull him by the waist band of his jeans and drop to the floor to your knees, undoing his belt and letting his jeans fall to the ground. once his boxers come off, your eyes grow and a loud “wow” leaves your lips. he smirks at hearing this, he would never not feel proud hearing about how big his dick was but he was ecstatic to hear it come from his favorite porn stars lips. he feels himself twitch as you wrap your lips around him. he’s met with a hand wrapping around him as well, even tho you were some what of an expert at the matter, you weren’t about to embarrass yourself a choke on this man. he notices your hair getting in the way and decides to hold it up for you, his fist wrapping tightly around it. you pull him out of your mouth, running your tongue from the base to his head. he moans out at this action, he pulls your hair as a signal to come up to him.
before you know it, you’re laying out on the couch. happy lifts your dress up, revealing that you have no panties on underneath.
“shit girl. no panties?” he asks, you pull the top of your dress down, revealing your breast. you feel your nipples become hard from the cold air.
“makes it easier for moments like these.” he grins, pulling you to the edge of the couch, he slides himself into you without warning. you let out a moan, you were already soaking wet. usually it took a little lube for the shoots, but this man did something that no one else had done in a long time. he’s thrusting slowly, but steady.
“god damn.” he mutters out, running his hand to your breast. “pussy is even better in person than then on camera. you know how many times i’ve fantasied about this?” he hears you let out the oh so familiar moans that before he’d only heard in porn. you lift your head up and grin.
“is it all you ever dreamed of?” you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to your face, kissing him sloppily and wiping away his sweat with your hand. he can feel the tops of your nails sticking into his neck. “shit. even better than that.” he says, thrusting himself into you harder than before. your moans mimicked what he has heard many times before, but it seemed more enjoyable this time around, much more authentic.
you wiggle yourself out of the corner of the couch and manage to get him to lay on his back, happy was taken back. he was used to doggy style or being in control in missionary, he couldn’t even remember the last time a woman rode him. you ease down onto his cock, “fuck.” he let’s out, he can’t believe what’s happening, it still doesn’t feel real. he feels like a teenage boy again fucking someone for the first time. you grind yourself on him, taking his hands and placing them on your hips to help guide you.
“how many times have you thought of this baby?” you ask, he digs his nails into the side of your hips, making you gasp in pleasure.
“you don’t even know.” you feel pressure building inside of you, ready to explode. “you sure do know how to work a man’s fucking cock.” the words send you over the edge, happy feels you clenching around him.
“oh my god!” you scream out, he watches your face, although he remembers plenty of the orgasms you’d had in your movies, he’d never seen one like this before. you continue riding him, finishing off your orgasm. you feel him go to push you off so he can cum himself, but you hold him down with your hands still grinding onto him.
“oh now, don’t think you didn’t do all that work to not get to cum inside of me.” you say, moving your hands to his face.
“fuck!” he let’s out, he releases into you and enjoys every second of it. no second thoughts. once the both of you have finished, you hop off him and grab the closest towel that had your initials printed onto it, specially made for you of course as you were one of Luann’s biggest earners. you throw one to happy as well, he stands up, cleaning himself off. you throw on a bright pink robe, throw your hair up into a bun and walk over to him.
“you know, i never did catch your name.”
“happy.” he says, you chuckle for a second until you realize he’s being serious.
“cute, i like it. we should do this again happy.” you say, grabbing your water and taking off to the restroom. he finished cleaning himself off and gives himself a pat on the back, realizing now he can have the real deal instead of his screen.
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ladykailitha · 3 months ago
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WIP Wednesday Game
It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.
Here’s how it works:
In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames or specific AUs your WIPs; not titles, filenames (eg werewolf AU, unnamed mafia omegaverse, or Steve's Rizz vs Eddie's Zero Filter.)
Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!
After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write at least 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.
That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!
If you’re reading this, you’re invited!
If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.
My only problem is that I tend to file name what the title is so I can find it easier, so...here’s what they were called before I titled them.
“File” Names
Stripper AU
Olympic Swimmer AU
Sugar Daddy/Baby AU
Metal Band AU
Snippet
“Steve!” Dustin cried. “I tried to call you but your line was busy!”
Steve let out a long slow sigh. “Other people do call me, Dusty. Like the guy who’s paying for all this?”
Dustin huffed. “Well if you would just tell me who he is, maybe I would be more forgiving...”
“Ain’t gonna happen, Dusty,” Steve bit out. “I don’t want it getting back to my dad who it is. And before you tell me you’ll never tell. You’ll say something when you think no one is around and someone will hear you. Until my dad gives up his little Crusade, I ain’t gonna tell you shit.”
“Come on, Steve...” Dustin begged.
“I was going to take everyone to the arcade today but if you’re going to keep hounding me about it, maybe I won’t.”
The line went silent.
“I’m sorry, Steve,” Dustin murmured. “I just want to make sure he’s a good guy and not taking advantage you.”
Steve let out a breath through his nostrils and closed his eyes tightly. “He isn’t even in Hawkins right now and I don’t know when he’ll be back, okay?” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Okay.”
Then he held the phone away from his ear.
Wait for it.
Wait…for…it.
“You want to take everyone to the arcade?!” Dustin screamed.
****
Look there was a spicier snippet I could have done but this one was more fun.
It's that great and wonderful time of the week again! WIP Wednesday!
The game runs from 8am-11pm EST.
Send in as many asks as you want as often as you want.
@mira-jadeamethyst @zerokrox-blog @forgottenkanji @w1ll0wtr33 @thesecondfate
@acingthecounts @beelze-the-bubkiss @just-a-tiny-void @kultiras @niniel-karenine
@dreamercec
Come join my writing discord server where I answer fanfic questions, author questions, or just chat about whatever. I love hanging out with you guys.
I do have to step out for a little bit for my son's back to school night, but don't let that deter you.
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britcision · 1 year ago
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Listen I can’t finish it tonight but I’m real real close but next week is gonna be buuuuuuusy so chapter 15 is right on the line of done and we’ll see if I get it up before next Wednesday 👀
If I do, we may not have a WIP Wednesday next week so again, we shall see
This week, have second place from the poll, Waylon and Danny!
————————
I’ll Take The Highway part vi
Waylon sat back in his seat, back scraping against the wall of the booth as he surveyed the kid in front of him.
Little squirt was tougher ‘n he looked, that much was definitely true. Harley had given him the short run down on their way to the milkshake bar, all the powers she knew he had.
And that he’d been hunted by his folks for a while. Waylon knew how that kinda shit could mess ya up.
He appreciated the heads up too, cuz this kinda shit coming up outta nowhere? Also pretty damn rough. He’d wondered if the kid just wanted to come along for another fight.
If he just wanted another chance to say he’d looked Killer Croc in the eye.
But there was no real bravado there, not even when he challenged Waylon to a rematch. Shit, the kid treated him more normal than most of his henchmen had ever managed to.
Made sense, knowing he was part a ghost an’ fought ghost rogues, but it left Waylon wondering. Apparently he was getting his answer.
Same damn question he’d asked himself a thousand times, ‘specially around the kind of young vigilantes who’d taken a turn to the bad.
Didn’t mean he had a good answer.
He regarded the kid for a long minute, watching the fidgeting, the sudden shyness from a boy who’d literally tackled him from behind on a whim.
This wasn’t just an idle question. Something made him sure of that, and he’d never been involved in all that much of the really weird shit. You heard stories, especially in Arkham.
So he decided to give the kid the best answer he had.
“Cuz I was the worst version of myself. I let myself be the monster they thought I was, got pretty good at it. But it never made me happy.” He paused, mulling it over.
Chuckled softly and looked down into his half drunk milkshake. It was kinda funny how obvious it seemed, in hindsight.
“Shit, there was never even anythin’ I wanted. Not like Penguin, Freeze, or the others. People treated me like a monster so I tried to be one, cuz why the hell not? Couldn’t be worse, could it?”
His gaze shifted back to Danny’s face, watching the kid’s expression. No judgement, which was nice. But he did look confused.
“So you just… got sick of it?” Danny asked, his brows furrowed as he played with his fingers.
Waylon chuckled and shook his head.
“Kinda. Spent a while thinkin’ if people couldn’t treat me with respect, fear’d do. But it ain’t the same. An’ I never had the drive or creative cruelty to stand out in Gotham.”
Danny looked a little incredulous at that, eyebrows rising, but he caught himself before commenting. Snickered and shook his head.
“Yeah, I guess being in a city that’s used to people like Scarecrow and the Joker puts “big and green” into perspective,” he agreed dryly, and Waylon laughed.
It felt good to laugh.
“Oh yeah. City’s got more than its share of low level thugs anyway. I spent a while as extra muscle for the big boys, but I ain’t the takin’ orders sort,” he explained with a modest shrug.
Danny grinned, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward.
“What, a shy and retiring guy like you?” He asked, clearly teasing, and Waylon waved a hand dismissively.
“I’m lucky it was Gotham,” he added after a moment, reflection sobering his mood. “Got sent t’ Arkham. Met Harley. An’ the Bat’s not all that bad. He tried gettin’ me outta the life a couple times.”
Danny cocked his head, a slight frown returning to his face. Following Waylon’s lead.
“How did Batman try and get you out?” There was a little too much intensity for it to be a casual question, and Waylon noted it. Not that he’d figure it out on his own.
Just tryin’ to make sure he didn’t damage the kid.
“Oh, there were a couple ways. Got me moved down to Florida once. Out in the green, away from people. I figured bein’ a wild animal might be more my speed, but it wasn’t. An’ it got messy when I left. Like that whatever he tried, really. There’s lines you can’t uncross.”
Lines like being a cannibal.
Not that he was sobbin’ on a preacher’s shoulder about it. Most of the people he’d eaten were assholes who’d deserved it, and it’d been a preference not a need.
For all people loved to go on about him eatin’ kids and babies, he’d never actually done it. A guy had to have standards.
Made it easy to stop, once he was in a better head space. He and Harley had talked a lotta old shit out.
Kid didn’t need to know those grisly details though, at least not from his own mouth. Watching Danny a moment longer, Waylon came to a decision.
“Look, kid. There’s a lotta reasons people go bad. Some of ‘em can’t be helped. But if they’re not gettin’ anything out of it, if there’s no goal? The appeal runs out. And sometimes all it takes is someone willin’ to reach down an’ haul yer back up to the light.”
He wouldn’t ask if that was the case with whoever the kid wanted to help. Everyone heard stories, ‘specially about heroes meeting their evil selves.
The fear looked personal, but the asking coulda been for anyone. Waylon was in no rush to judge.
Danny mulled over his words for a while, lips moving soundlessly as he frowned down at the table. This time when he looked up, there was a peace in his eyes.
He’d come to a decision. Good for him.
“Thanks, Waylon. You seem like a pretty great guy to me,” he said simply, and Waylon definitely did not feel a lump in his throat.
“This is after years o’ Harley workin’ on me,” he grumbled gruffly. Shaking his head, he slurped down the last of his milkshake quickly.
Nothing like brain freeze to explain being a little misty eyed.
——————
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pizzaqueen · 11 months ago
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#23 for the spotify wrapped fic thingy!! 👀
23 was Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Peace by Cheap Trick
I feel like I’m cheating a little, here, because this is a snippet from a WIP (called Ain’t Even Done With the Night where Steve and Eddie go to a concert somewhere and then Steve wants to pick up a couple of girls when they go to a bar after and Eddie goes along with it because he just does—nothing really happens between them and the girls btw!!) that just happens to have this song on the ‘soundtrack’.
But I do think it fits the song? And I did write it just for this, so hopefully that counts!!!
“So…” Steve shifts, making the ancient mattress dip as he moves; the springs creak, echoed moments later through the wall from the bed in the adjoining room. Those springs are probably squeaking for a different reason though. “Are you going to see that chick again?”
Eddie glances over at Steve. There’s something guarded in the tone of his voice, and his face doesn’t give anything away either. “Maybe.”
“Cool.” Steve nods, pressing his lips together. “I mean, she gave you her address, and we’re not that far away, so it would be easy.”
“Yeah, she said we could be penpals.”
Steve huffs. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
“It would just be as friends,” Eddie says, cautiously, wondering at the bitterness in Steve’s voice. Or maybe he’s imagining it.
“Sure.”
“No, really.” Eddie’s brow furrows. “I’m not interested in her. She wasn’t interested in me.” He pauses, then adds, “Except as a friend.”
“Then why…” Steve shakes his head. “Why did you agree to go back to their place?”
“Because you wanted to.”
Steve blinks. “You’re saying you just went along with it because I wanted to?”
“Yeah. I didn’t want to ruin your night.” Eddie lets his head tip back, thunking against the wall. “Which I guess I did, anyway.”
“Dude. I told you—” A muscle in Steve’s jaw ticks. “Look, if I cared more about getting laid than I cared about you, I wouldn’t be here. I’d be back there with her.”
“Aww, shucks.” The beat of Eddie’s heart belies his teasing tone, and he’s glad Steve can’t hear it.
“I mean it. You don’t know…” Steve toys with the comforter. “You don’t know how much you…” He sighs, shaking his head.
“Steve?”
“Nothing, man.” Steve runs a hand over his face. Silence stretches out, punctuated by the continued creaks from the other room, now accompanied by grunts and moans, and the buzzing of the bare bulb, the traffic outside. “Look, I’m glad you’re feeling better and…” He sighs again. “We should probably get some sleep if we want to get back early.”
Eddie doesn’t say anything, just watches as Steve slips down, rolling over so his back is toward Eddie. There’s a churning in his stomach and, before he knows what he’s doing, he’s saying, “I wasn’t sick.”
“What?” Steve glances over his shoulder.
“I didn’t feel sick, back at the apartment.”
More creaks as Steve pushes himself up, sitting beside Eddie again. “Then what…”
“I just…” This is it, Munson. Now or never. Eddie draws in a deep breath and says, “I couldn’t be there, knowing you were with her.” He looks at Steve. “You know?”
“Did you like her?”
Eddie sighs. “Steve.”
Steve gives a little shakes of his head.
“C’mon, man,” Eddie says, hating the pleading tone in his voice, “don’t make me say it.”
There’s a sharp inhale of breath and then a soft, “Oh,” and Eddie’s chest goes tight and his stomach drops.
“Yeah…” The noise from the next room over stops; a door opens and closes down the hall. “Do you want me to get another room?” Eddie tries to keep his tone light, but he’s pretty sure he fails. Spectacularly.
“No.” Steve’s voice is certain, brooks no arguments, and when Eddie looks at him, he doesn’t see disgust or pity or anything except… Oh. Oh shit. “No,” Steve repeats, hand darting across the worn comforter, stopping short of grabbing Eddie’s, “I want you to stay,” and it’s all Eddie needs to hear.
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coins-that-never-land · 10 months ago
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So I know it’s not WIP Wednesday, and I usually tend to save my WIPs until they’re done, but I figured just this once I’d start switching it up a bit!
For the few of you that already know, this is a snippet of my rock band hangster au!!
For those of you that don’t: it’s basically what it implies!
“Ya don’t like havin’ people’s eyes on ya?”
Hangman seemed unbothered as he looked up from the menu, focused purely on him.
If he was honest -
“I don’t dislike it,” he countered, trying to glance around surreptitiously at his surroundings without seeming as if he was bothered. Because he absolutely was a bit surprised. “I’m not usually being watched while I eat, anyways.”
A quiet huff from across the table drew his attention back to Seresin, who was holding up a glass of water with the most self-assured expression that he’d ever seen.
“Well. Gotta get used to it then, Roo.”
…What?
“‘Roo’?”
Jake’s affirming hum was swallowed by the drink that he was taking, before he set the glass back down on the table.
He hadn’t even touched his drink.
He should have.
Frankly, his whole throat was sandpaper. Maybe he had some new disease.
Because he didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, other than -
“Yeah. We’re callin’ ya ‘Rooster.’ Took ya long enough to get off the fuckin’ perch and sing for us.”
He was too busy staring at the pleased smirk on Jake’s face, but felt his mind turn the cobwebs from his brain.
“Roosters aren’t songbirds,” he found himself saying instead.
“No, but they ain’t too good at doin’ what they should, either. Ya ever see ‘em? Territorial, stubborn shits.”
Lord.
Hangman was the one…giving him a nickname?
Why?
And -
“So why - ”
“Ya know why,” Seresin’s smile was a little softer. It had to be, he swore that he wasn’t imagining it. “If ya want the spot, it’s yours, Roo. We ain’t considerin’ anyone else.”
He…Jake had to be joking.
“What about the others?” His throat was still dry, even though he’d taken a drink of water. He was starting to think he needed something stronger than that. “Tash said - ”
“Other people auditioned, yeah. But we ain’t gonna use ‘em, not ‘less ya say no. It’s yours first, if ya want it.”
…The frontman position for Aviator Silencers?
He would be an idiot to say no.
(Even this - whatever the hell conversation that he was having with Jake Seresin - wasn’t quite charged with the weird ass rivalry that they used to have. At least, not the kind that had to be spitting insults every five minutes.)
(Jake was still getting on his nerves, but…in a manner that he could almost appreciate. So it would be fine.)
“Yes,” he nodded, head moving so aggressively on his neck that he thought he’d give himself a concussion. “I’d be honored.”
Another small snort, before Seresin was waving the waiter back over.
“A bottle of,” Jake trailed off, raising an eyebrow at him.
…Oh.
“White?”
Seresin had nodded before he could second-guess himself, which sent a small wave of relief through him at having understood the question correctly without verbalizing it.
“Bottle of your finest white, please, m’dear. Don’t matter which.”
“Of course, Mr. Seresin. I’ll be right back.”
But the smile on Jake’s face - the one that seemed almost giddy - was focused on him again, and his breath caught automatically.
He couldn’t help it.
It wasn’t as if he was blind.
Jake Seresin - Hangman, lead guitarist of Aviator Silencers - was, and always had been, exceptionally beautiful.
Somehow, the time away, combined with stardom, had only been kind to the guy.
(Not that he planned on verbalizing any of that himself. He wasn’t blind, but he wasn’t an idiot, either.)
(They had never gotten along, but again - not blind.)
And when the waiter returned, handing Hangman the entire uncorked bottle of Sauvignon Blanc that - while he couldn’t read the date - appeared to have been stored precisely for quite some time…
Yeah.
Jesus.
He didn’t even want to know what that must have cost as Jake poured them both a glass before picking his own glass up.
“To you, Roo, for havin’ enough common sense to accept an offer from us,” the fucker’s toast started.
It needed some work.
(Seresin’s shit-eating grin hadn’t abated any, either, so it was a guarantee that he was well aware of that fact.)
He rolled his eyes, only slightly exasperated, and ignored the way Hangman clinked his glass without any hesitation.
“Well, darlin’,” ah, yep, and there came the tease. “Guess we’re eatin’ fish tonight, with your drink choice. Ain’t exactly my idea of a good first date, but I could be convinced.”
A salacious wink followed the vomit-inducing statement, and he was certain that he would have genuinely thrown up if he felt even slightly more at ease.
As it was, his stomach was still knotted.
He hadn’t exactly expected the pet name, even though he knew full well that it was just a joke.
Jake Seresin, in his time on stage, had gained something of a reputation for picking partners of a male variety - and a good many of them, too.
But those were just rumors, and he knew Seresin like he knew the back of his own hand.
That man was certainly playing up his reputation for laughs, regardless of whether or not there was any truth to it.
Instead, he forced himself to breathe, a slightly choked exhale that he hoped came off as mere excitement for his new job than anything.
“Please,” he returned. “As if you’d bring anyone here.”
A light in Seresin’s eyes told him there was another tease, so he cut it off at the pass.
“And if you have, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Jealous, Roo?” No. “Don’t be. You’re here, ain’t’cha?”
Couldn’t fault that brilliant logic.
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1lostsoul0fishbowl · 1 year ago
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I really wanted to have a WIP ready for Hellcheer anniversary week, but all I’ve got is a half finished outline that taunts me from my notes folder every time I open it up (to feverishly succumb to another bout of Eleverson brainrot). As an apology offering I present a piece I wrote last September called Right Side Up, which takes place about three days after Eddie escaped the Upside Down (because of course he did) and Vecna was defeated (because of course he was).
Chrissy wakes up.
For a moment, she doesn’t know where she is; she’s curled in an unfamiliar chair, covered in a slightly scratchy blanket, and somebody nearby is quietly crying like a child, soft little brokenhearted whimpers they’re clearly trying to suppress but which will not be held back.
Then she hears Wayne Munson’s quiet, disbelieving voice gasping “Eddie?” and everything comes flooding back. They’re in Eddie’s hospital room, Wayne sleeping on a little cot the nurses rolled in for him, Chrissy in a squeaky vinyl recliner tucked into the corner. They hadn’t left him alone for a second, though it had been almost two and a half days since his surgery and he’d been unconscious the entire time. Now it’s the middle of the night and her neck aches from sleeping in the chair but none of that matters one bit, because Eddie finally, finally woke up.
“Eddie, my boy.” Enough dim light spills in from the hallway that Chrissy can see Wayne get up from the cot and hurry over to sit on the bed next to Eddie, carefully gathering his weeping nephew into his arms. “Thank the lord. Oh, my boy.”
“W-Wayne?” Eddie buries his face in his uncle’s chest, his next words coming out muffled, but in the quiet of the room Chrissy can still make them out. “I m-missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, son. I was so worried about you.”
“Am I… am I…” Eddie falters. He sounds so weak. Breathless. “Arrested?”
“No. Don’t you worry about that,” Wayne soothes, his hand stroking through Eddie’s hair. “Some fella named Owens took care of all that, you don’t have to worry ‘bout police anymore.”
“I didn’t…” Chrissy can see Eddie’s eyes, huge and luminous with tears, pleading, fixed on his uncle’s face. “Didn’t k-k… I didn’t k-k-kill…”
Wayne flings his arms around Eddie again, nearly crushing the boy in his embrace. “I know that, baby, dontcha think I know that? I know you wouldn’t hurt anyone. Never thought for one second that any of that shit was true about you. I know you ain’t never hurt anyone.”
Eddie makes a sound, halfway between a sigh and a sob, of pure relief. “Didn’t k-k-kidnap… she needed… she needed…”
“Easy now, darlin’, take it easy, now. Everythin’s alright, we know you ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”
For a moment, the silence is only broken by Eddie’s quiet sniffling and the starchy scritch of Wayne’s hand rubbing his back through his thin blue gown. Then Wayne speaks again, and Chrissy is surprised to hear a hint of laughter in his voice.
“As if I’d believe you’d do anything to hurt Chrissy Cunningham.”
Eddie groans. “Don’ make fun o’ me.”
“How many songs you write about that girl? Reckon you’re up to twenty, now?”
Chrissy just barely manages to stop herself from sitting bolt upright. Songs? Eddie’s written songs about her?! When could he possibly have done that?
“Stop it.” A pained grunt, as if it hurt when he shifted in the bed. “You heard… if… if she’s okay?”
Wayne laughs outright now, softly, but undeniable. “You’n ask her yourself in the mornin’, son, she’s sleepin’ right over yonder.”
“Wayne.” Eddie’s voice trembles. “Please stop.” A pained moan escapes him. “‘S’not funny.”
“I’m serious.”
“Don’t… don’t make fun…” A sob catches in his throat. “Please.”
“Ed, I swear, I ain’t makin’ fun of you. Chrissy is fine, and I swear to you she ain’t left this room since you got here. Damn near sick over you. She’ll be so happy to see you awake. I promise I ain’t lyin’.”
“No,” Eddie moans. “No. Not for me. M-mother won’t… let… let her…” His breath hitches. “Wayne?”
“Yeah?”
“Hurts.”
“What hurts, baby?”
“Here.”
“Lemme get the nurse. You had surgery, son, patchin’ up holes in your guts. They’n give you somethin’ for the pain.” He presses the call button, then resumes gently rubbing his nephew’s back. Chrissy can hear Eddie’s uneven breaths, too fast and too shallow, even with his face pressed into Wayne’s shoulder.
Neither of them speak again until a nurse has come in, injected the pain medicine and flushed it through with saline, and checked Eddie’s temperature and vital signs. She wishes them both a good night and reminds them not to hesitate to ring again if there’s anything they need. Chrissy smiles to herself, thankful for the nurse’s kindness.
“Was she…” Eddie’s voice is hesitant. “Chrissy… she’s really okay?”
“She’s fine, son. She’s just worried about you,” Wayne replies, but to Chrissy’s surprise, Eddie starts to cry again. “I was scared,” he sobs. “She needed… me to b-be brave… and I, and I w-w-wasn’t.”
“That ain’t how she tells it.” Wayne’s voice is so loving, so comfortingly warm. “She tol’ me you saved her life. Says you’re her hero. How d’you like that?”
“Sh-she did?”
“Now why’s that so hard to believe?”
Eddie sniffles. “You know why.”
Chrissy doesn’t know why, and she wants to. After how close they’ve grown over the last week, after everything they’ve been through together, why would Eddie think she’d have anything but wonderful things to say about him?
“Well, I can’t make you believe me.” Wayne gently eases Eddie back against the pillows as he speaks. “But that’s what she said. An’ she sat here holdin’ your hand n’lookin’ at you like you done hung the moon just for her.” He pulls the blanket up to Eddie’s chin. “An’ if I thought you’d be awake for more’n five more minutes I’d go get her up so’s she could tell you herself.”
“‘S’a nice story,” Eddie murmurs. “I like her.”
“I know you do, son.”
“She’s… en… enchanting.”
Chrissy feels her cheeks flush warm, her eyes fill with tears. Enchanting? None of her cheerleader friends ever called her anything besides ‘nice’ or ‘pretty’, empty clichés they all tossed meaninglessly at each other, and her ex hadn’t even bothered with that for longer than she cared to remember. It was so like Eddie to give her the best compliment she’d ever heard, when he didn’t even realize she’d heard it.
Wayne is chuckling again. “You be sure to tell her that in the morning.”
“Don’ laugh. She… Chrissy.” Eddie’s words are definitely slurred now; the pain medicine is rapidly making him drowsy. “Chrissy. She’s ‘mazing. Think I… love her.”
“I know you do, son,” Wayne repeats, barely louder than a whisper. He leans forward to smooth Eddie’s hair back from his face and gently kiss his forehead.
“You too,” Eddie murmurs. “Wayne. Love… Wayne.”
“I know, darlin’. I love you, too. Go to sleep, now.”
“You… stay?”
“Course I’ll stay. Got a bed for me right there. I won’t leave you.”
“‘Kay.” Eddie sighs deeply, then his breathing slows and Chrissy can tell he’s asleep.
Wayne stays seated at the side of his bed for a few more minutes before getting up. He stretches a little, his back cracking, then stoops to kiss his nephew’s forehead again before climbing back into his cot. In less than two minutes he’s softly snoring.
She slides from the recliner, slowly so it doesn’t squeak, and tiptoes across the room to Eddie’s bed. She slips in carefully next to him, making sure to avoid the iv line, and snuggles close, resting her head against his shoulder and one hand on his chest, right over his heart. His eyes don’t open, but his breath hitches and she can see his eyelashes flutter a bit. A moment later, his hand slides slowly up to cover hers.
Chrissy smiles, turning her hand to lace their fingers together. Eddie hums a small, contented sounding sigh from the back of his throat. His breathing deepens, slowing into the rhythm of sleep again, and moments later she follows him down.
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peaches2217 · 10 months ago
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how would the bros' royal lovers feel about their post-partum bodies? of course, we all know they'd find peach/peas to still be beautiful no matter what, but would there be a level of self-consciousness there? this is the most wholesome stuff and you're giving me fictional baby fever, too!
Anon, I am so glad you asked! (And welcome to the club! 🥳)
TW: Body dysmorphia and related topics
Peasley doesn’t care. He knows he’s hot shit, no matter what he looks like. He’d dramatically strip naked for Luigi and say some shit like “Behold! This is the body which grew and nurtured our child, divinity itself!” and Luigi would be like “Hell yeah :D ” If anything, Luigi might end up worrying about his own appearance, since he’s normally so well-groomed; he’d lament that his hair and mustache look untidy because he’s just too tired from late nights with the baby to put as much thought as normal into his appearance, and Peasley would assure him that he’s just as handsome now as always.
“I don’t look quite the same as I did this time last year either, you know,” says the guy who, objectively speaking, looks way worse for the wear, “yet I’m still the physical embodiment of perfection. You’re no different, my love.” Luigi is one of the few people Peasley thinks of more highly than himself; there’s very little room for bodily insecurity. 😂
Peach is another story. I headcanon that she has insecurities regarding her body image, though it’s less to do with maintaining a certain physique and more to do with wanting to be healthy and physically capable (y’know that long-ass fic I keep talking about that I’ve got in the works? That’ll be one of the topics it touches on!). She does get self-conscious about her body sometimes during pregnancy, but it’s easily rectified with love and reassurances! Postpartum… not so much.
For whatever reason, the last month of her pregnancy takes a lot out of her, more so than expected, and it takes a few months to really gain her strength and energy back. She spends several weeks more or less confined to her chambers because she’s so frail, and when she tries to go for walks to get some fresh air and exercise, she gets winded and has to go back inside in like half an hour’s time. And by Toadessa’s assessment, there’s nothing they can really do to expedite the healing process — she’s doing everything right and is perfectly healthy otherwise. Some people just take longer to bounce back, and that process is complicated by the energy and resources needed to care for a newborn. The best she can do is rest.
And her frustration with her slow healing process ends up manifesting as frustration with her body as a whole. Like most people postpartum, she’s dealing with extra weight and stretched and sagging skin, and that coupled with the exhaustion of a new parent makes her feel like she’s some sluggish, disgusting creature that’s loathsome to even look at. She keeps expecting to see some sign of it reflected in Mario’s face, a look of pity or maybe even disgust that confirms her suspicions.
It should go without saying that that never happens. Mario knows how she feels, because this has happened before in another context (enter my long-ass wip!), and he knows “You’re still beautiful and perfect and I love you and (respectfully) want you to suffocate me between your thighs” ain’t gonna cut it when she feels so intensely about her body. So what’s a guy to do? Well, he knows it’s less about her physique and more about her vitality, so he helps her in regaining it.
He finds energizing exercises that are postpartum friendly for her to try and then does them with her, or he’ll join her for her walks, or anything else that will naturally build her back up, because she’s much less apt to get discouraged and call it quits when he’s there. It doesn’t matter how much physical activity actually gets done or if they spend more time taking breaks than actually moving. He gets her laughing and talking and thinking about things other than how inadequate she feels, and he makes sure she only pushes herself as far as she can reasonably go, and by the time Peach willfully puts an end to their routines, she already feels a thousand times better. When she feeds and rocks their baby, she spends less time staring in disdain at her figure and questioning how well she can raise a child if she can’t even take care of herself and more time reveling in the joys of motherhood, feeling on top of the world once more, and it’s a welcome change for all involved.
But above all, Mario makes it clear that, whether she becomes the buffest MILF on the planet or whether she wakes up tomorrow and decides she’s perfectly happy with where she’s at right now, he’s going to think she’s beautiful. He doesn’t care what she looks like so long as she’s happy with herself.
“You think my stomach’s finally getting a little flatter?” she asks one night, contentedly flustered beneath his touch.
“I think you look more confident than you ever have,” he tells her.
“You’re dodging the question, Mario.”
“Nope!” He kisses the tip of her nose. “Just focusing on what really matters.”
With time, Peach comes to agree with his sentiment.
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1lostone · 10 months ago
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Author interview
@myulalie tagged me and I’m pretty excited to do this.
1. How many works do you have on ao3:
219 I think a good bit of those are probably podfic, but I’m not mad about it. 
2. What's my total ao3 wc:
2,277,720. This is due to my need to write ridiculous wordmonsters.  
3. What are my top 5 fics by kudos:
Some of these are pretty old. Maybe I’m past my prime. :D 
Hey There Little Red (Teen Wolf)
Love The One You’re With (Star Trek AOS)
Nowhere Man (Teen Wolf) 
Five Times Stiles Needed A Crash Course On Wolfy Behavior And The One Time He Figured Shit Out. (Teen Wolf)
What The Moon Showed Me (Teen Wolf)
4. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
Yes, always!  But sometimes it takes me awhile to remember. I tend to save them up and do a whole group at once. 
5. What fic has the angstiest ending?
Um. I’m not sure. Probably Little Lion Man- but it’s more ambiguous than angsty.  Still, my friend said she wanted to slap the green off Spock's cheeks, so ...
6. What fic has the happiest ending?
Weirdly, I think it’s It ain't easy to get to heaven (When you're goin' down) - the one I wrote about Aaron and Jesus from TWD.  I made them work for their happy ending. 
7. Do you write crossovers?
Sure. I write just about anything. 
8. Have you received hate on ao3?
Of course. Who hasn’t. 
9. Do you write smut?
Yep.
10. Have you had a fic get stolen?
YES AND I HATE IT A LOT.
11. Have you had a fic get translated?
Yes! 
12. Have you co-written a fic?
Sort of. The intentions were good and we decided it was best if we just stick to our own lanes :D 
13. What's your fav ship?
Lord.  I dip between ships like crazy. I don’t know if I have a favorite per se. 
14. What's a WIP you want to finish but never will?
SPICE. (I WILL FINISH I WILL!) 
15. What are my writing strengths?
Honestly, I’ve been so burnt out on writing lately I don’t know. I think I can tell a good story, and I’m good at resolving angst.  I think that's why I'm clinging to podficcing- I can still be a part of fandom, but idk. I need my writing mojo back.
16. What are my writing weaknesses?
It can take me 809012 words to describe a sneeze. I can also take myself too seriously. 
17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages on ao3?
I have done it, but only with much help and handholding from people who actually speak that language. My 10 years of French 30 years ago would only annoy a native speaker. 
18. What's the first fandom you wrote for?
X-Files and CSI. I can’t remember which was first, it was a whole hot minute ago. 
19. What fandom/ship have you not written but want to?
UM. There are so many.  I’ve been in the Good Omens fandom since the book came out IN THE NINETIES but have never been brave enough to write anything. Maybe I can this year. . . 
20. What's your fav fic you've written?
Hmm.  It’s hard to pick one. Probably a tossup between Weep, Little Lionman, and in the bed where you lie. 
I’m always hesitant to tag people, but if any mutuals do this, tag me so I know you took it on! 
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queenofbaws · 1 year ago
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ahhhhHHHHHH it's been a hot minute since i've stopped and done one of these, but i figured now's the time, huh??? a quick little update here on my end: i'm hoping to be finishing of mummy men & bathtub soup, my conrad manofmedan-centric ghost hunting fic, in the coming weeks, so everything else is likely to be running a little slower for the immediate future. it's one of a handful of wips i'm REALLY trying to wrap up before the guilt eats me alive, telltale heart style, M O S T L Y because i have so much stuff planned for the creepiverse that i'm just...bursting at the seams to get some sort of momentum going there, haha!!!
my weekends have also been a bit more chaotic than usual lately, between health crap and family crap, so once more, if you've sent me a flash fiction prompt recently that i haven't gotten to, i promise you'll see it filled one of these days 😭 just waiting for things to calm down a bit.
BUT HEY with all that in mind, i'm throwing a chunkier sneak-peek of like wringing blood from a stone here under the cut! never fear: i'm way too deep into hackett hyperfixation to NOT be working on it in the background, but until conrad's story comes to a close, hackett house will just be a littttttttle quieter than usual ;P
(as always, i hope you're all doing well out there, that you're being as nice to yourselves as you possibly can, and that YOUR creative endeavors are going well <3 you got this!!!)
He knew better to bring those questions to Constance; in his heart he suspected she would’ve known plenty and more about this bizarre side of things, but in nearly sixty years of marriage, all she’d ever willingly shared of her life before him was that the mother and grandmother who’d raised her up had been ‘ugly, witchety women,’ and not much else. Not ‘witchy,’ mind, not ‘wicked,’ not ‘wretched,’ but ‘witchety.’ That was as far as she’d be pressed on the subject, and he’d been raised to let sleeping dogs lie, so that was as far as he’d tried to press.
Jack, though. Jack you couldn’t get to shut up.
And he was more than a little witchety, himself. He hadn’t been able to make heads or tails of that word until the first time the Fiddlers had shown up on his doorstep—then it’d made perfect sense. Witchety. Yeah.
“I’m gonna ask you something.” Jed didn’t wait for him to react, instead sitting back in his own chair and rubbing tiredly at his stubble. “Figure I might as well, seein’ as how you’ve got an opinion on every other thing under the goddamn sun. You level with me now…this curse shit, it real?”
“Oh, it’s real. Real as the shirt on your back, I promise you that.”
He frowned. Not only was it the answer he’d least wanted to hear, but Jack hadn’t even paused to mull it over. That told him a great many things at once; very few of them good.
“Tell you something else, though,” Jack soldiered on. “Since you went and opened the door and all.” Then he did pause, looking down at the whiskey in his glass as he swirled it. After another couple seconds, he took a belt of it and set the glass back down. “People think of curses like a cold. Someone gives it to you, or it’s…I dunno, catching.” He shook his head. “But that ain’t right.”
He narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of it in his own head. “No?”
Jack shook his head again. “No. Curses are something you bring on yourself. If you’re cursed, well…that ain’t anybody’s fault but your own.”
Much as it pained him to do so, Jed held his gaze, dead eye and all. He wanted to see if he might backpedal, apologize for the slight when he realized what he’d said…but the only thing Jack did was take another drink of his whiskey.
“That don’t sit well with me.”
“Doesn’t have to. It’s the truth, Jed, and you know what they say about the truth. It shall set you free.”
“You understand you’re sittin’ in my house, telling me to my face that it’s—”
“Your own damn fault you’re up Shit Creek,” he finished for him. “Unfortunately, I am.”
“Now, you listen. Those kids were—”
Jack held both his hands up, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. “Helpin’ that boy. Uh huh. Yeah. I know. Six years I’ve been hearin’ about how helpful the pack is. Six fuckin’ years. And know what? That’s great. Real swell. And if I were a different man, maybe this is where I’d pat you on the shoulder and say somethin’ conciliatory. ‘No good deed goes unpunished,’ maybe. ‘There but for the grace of God go we.’ Only I’m not, and so you’re stuck what I’ve got to say. Which, if you hadn’t noticed, rarely runs on the side of consolation.” He took another breath, Jack, then sat forward with his arms on the table such that he could lean in. “They meant to help that boy, Jed. What they actually did was kill his whole family right in front of him.”
“Family,” he scoffed, leaning further back to show him what he thought of that one. “What family would that be? A truckful of carnies roaming town to town…that ain’t a fuckin’ family.”
Jack didn’t drop his gaze. “No? It ain’t? Huh. See—to me at least—sounds an awful lot like what you married yourself into.” He gave his glass another swirl. “An awful lot.”
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glycerineclown · 1 year ago
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WIP Weekend - "the trouble we're in"
Joel smuggles condoms for use at a brothel in the Boston QZ. He gets his needs met on the side, and never has to feel anything, ever. 
We all know how that’ll turn out for him. Joel Miller/OFC, pre-canon.
Here's a sneak peek! Current word count: 17,168. Thanks @puddle--wonderful for the tag!
Her apartment is small, but Cameron’s done her best to keep it looking decent. Last winter she stripped off the peeling floral wallpaper and scrubbed the walls until they were as close to white as possible. She has an alarm clock that doubles as a CD player, and a full-size mattress, raised up on cement blocks in lieu of a bedframe. The bookshelf built into the wall is full to bursting with old paperbacks, stacks of overflow spilling onto the floor beside it. In the bathroom, there’s an old-fashioned washing board, and clothes hanging to dry on the shower rod.
She heats up leftover soup on the stove, and eats it with a slice of rosemary bread that she baked herself. For dessert, it’s half a snickerdoodle—they get all sorts of things as tips. One of her regulars likes to bring her fresh aloe from a plant he keeps at his place. Another pays for her to have lunch with him every other Monday. 
Joel Miller lives upstairs, so it’s easy enough for him to darken her door long after curfew, when most of the building is asleep. Cameron puts on a pot of tea when ten rolls around, and there’s a soft knocking as her cup is getting cool enough to drink.
Cameron cracks the door, and then swings it wide. “Hey, Red.”
Joel scowls, brushing past her into the apartment. “Told you to stop callin’ me that.”
Cameron sighs, and closes the door, flips the deadbolt. She was a junior in high school when the world ended. Old enough that she knows he’s seen Shawshank. “But you’re the man who knows how to get things.”
Joel takes his pack down from his shoulder. “That may be true, but I sure as shit ain’t Morgan Freeman.” He unsnaps the main pocket, and pulls out a box, handing it off to Cameron. “They’re from February.”
Block letters on the cardboard read, 350 count, large size, ultra thin, latex, lubricated—Marlene’s delivery of condoms, fresh from Atlanta, not expired. A separate order from what’s rationed to everyone else by the military.
Birth control pills haven’t been an option since six women in the Atlanta QZ suffered strokes. It’s not like the FDA is still around.
Joel stands up straight, and slings his bag back over one shoulder. He’s a lifesaver for this, but she’s learned not to lay that on too thick. Cameron sighs, peering up at his face. She just has a lamp on in the living room, but there are street lights outside her window, and it’s bright enough that she can see how dusty and exhausted he is. Smuggling makes ends meet after days of hard labor, so he’s broad and strong, too. 
The first time she met him—years ago, now, the fall after he moved in upstairs—she knocked on his door and sold him three onions. He’s always kept to himself. Before she started working for Marlene, the yearly crop constituted all the interaction they’d ever had.
Cameron blinks, and looks away. “I’ve got your payment. Have you eaten?”
Joel opens his mouth like he might refuse her, but then he shakes his head. “Whatcha got?”
“Soup and fresh bread.”
“Tomato?”
“Lentil. And I made ginger tea, but I’ve got whiskey, too. Take a load off.”
Cameron carries the box over to the bed, and bends to slide it under the mattress until tomorrow, before pulling out the bag of ration cards. When she returns, Joel is seated on her sofa, eyes half-open, legs spread wide. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s sucked his cock, but Joel looks about ready to pass out.
She tosses the bag onto the coffee table in front of him. “A hundred and ten. I’ll get you that soup.”
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aelwynabernantsorb · 11 months ago
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Oh I have never done this before I don’t know what I’m doing tangerine ily you’ve thrown me into the deep end here /lh/hj
Favourite colour: I always say yellow because it’s “the happiest colour” and I think that’s me trying to do some weird psychology shit to make myself happier and failing, but I do like pale pink. And this depends on who’s fronting so also just throw the whole rainbow in there, both for the gays and for my indecisiveness.
Relationship status: we’re horribly aroace except for one (1) lesbian alter, but romance would conflict with too much of our… Existence (?) too that we’ve steered away from it. Is our aroaceness autism in disguise? Maybe. Is it the label I’m sticking with? Yes. For now. So we are completely single and not ready to mingle because we also have anxiety. <3
Currently Consuming: well I am still in bed right now but the last thing I ate was like. The last half of an energy bar that was just on my bedside table at midnight after a ttrpg game, because if I went downstairs and woke my dog then all hell would break loose.
Last song: “Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want.” By The Smiths. I’ve been playing the same dnd character playlist on different shuffles for like a week. Probably more.
Three ships: IM GOING TO GIVE YOU OBSCURE ONES BECAUSE I DO NOT PANDER TO THE PUBLIC OPINION (/j) so, Barkshadow (Ragh Barkrock/Zayn Darkshadow from fantasy high) because cute and they deserve it and I don’t know if I created it but I certainly think I did, Evernant (Penelope Everpetal/Aelwyn Abernant from fantasy high) because crack angst ship and Aelwyn doesn’t deserve it but, like her parents, I take joy in torturing that girl. And finally Figayda (Fig Faeth/Ayda Aguefort from fantasy high) because it’s cute, the word gay is in the middle of it, and dating your principal’s daughter is a bomb ass power move from Fig I’ll have you know.
First ship: I don’t know what this is asking so I’ll write the first ship I ever read on ao3, which was Ginny/Luna, and I’ve forgotten the ship name and I read it on ao3 because there was nothing on Wattpad and young me was upset over it. I can’t remember any of the ships I read on Wattpad except Logan/Virgil from Sanders Sides because. I don’t know honestly, don’t judge me.
Currently working on: Oh god. Oh god. Not my wips. Don’t call me out about my mountain of wips. However, here’s a smaller list of what I’m actively working on:
My gift piece for the D20 gift exchange! Which I will not say on tumblr because 👀 you ain’t getting my secrets.
A Christmas Contrition: which is. Just a Fantasy High a Christmas Carol AU. Aelwyn is Scrooge and has to learn to be kinder and not focus so badly on her studies. Aguefort is Marley and is definitely messing with her but she doesn’t know that. Why did I write this? Good question! But I reached the 6k mark yesterday and am planning on having the first stave out on Christmas. So yay?
The Past Tense of Fly is Flu (Flew): Adaine is sick with a virus that attacks divinatory magic. Adaine, being the unknowing elven oracle, has a lot of that. You can guess how it goes (spoiler, it goes badly. But Aelwyn helps her so that’s a plus)
Little Sister: just a small one shot of Adaine age regressing after an argument with her father, and a confused and exasperated Aelwyn trying to get her out from under her fucking desk.
There are so many more but those are the main ones, and I’ll probably write some more pieces about my dnd and ttrpg characters when I have time (I don’t have time.)
Ummm @adaineabernantsfrog @wrenrix and @shipsthatcouldshowyouthestars I thinkkkk
tag game: 9 people you'd like to get to know better
thank you!! @pomegranates-and-onyx and @lowoliet!!! <3 I'm missed doing these tbh. I reordered the items so the sequence makes more sense xoxo
Favorite color: I usually say purple but I don't really feel that strongly
Relationship status: lmaoo I'm aro (greyro-ish?). I actually have long thought I would like to fake-date/date for fun, but just the other day went "I still haven't kissed anybody and I know plenty of ppl have a 1st older than me but tbh I don't think I ever will". Other than that, I've got a few friends I really like, a few friends I kinda don't, and some people in between. Solid nuclear family tho 👍
Currently consuming (eating, by the looks of the trend): Waiting on a response from a friend to see if her cookies (mint & chocolate) are tree nut-free. I hope I can eat them; they look great.
Last song: "Capital M-E" by Taking Back Sunday (I cheated a little b/c last night I listened to a bunch of random songs lol)
Current watching: Dan and Phil? Hbomb's latest video? theoretically, Death Note, Cunk on Earth, and Akira and Akira.
Last movie: Die Hard haha
Three ships: lawlight, tntduo … hm, Arthur/Eames from Inception is a favorited Ao3 tag I do regularly go back to
First ship: Not *too* sure either but I think it HAS to be Snowbaz b/c of the Fangirl -> Tumblr blog stalker thing & that book introducing me to fandom (whoops, that 'thing's not universal knowledge... after Fangirl I scoured Rainbow Rowell's blog which led me to gingerhaze.tumblr.com (he did the cover art) and b/c I couldn't read Nimona online I read his blog instead. b4 that I only went to youtube.com and minecraft.net) WAIT NO. I've always considered genderswapped Johnlock (SheJane) to be my first ship hahaha. (yes, it had to be genderswapped. reality was different back then)
Currently working on: sooo *twirls hair* there's these Hamlet scene analyses (plural)... that were due today.... also some Calc I think... my portfolio for a writing contest... Blind Justice Light Yagami drawing, if the motivation holds. And my Death Note fics I listed here :D
tagging @detective-horse-girl @l3mon-boy @cmstyles19 @sophaeros @i-could-bee-an-angel & seconding @drfurter well @novaliae I know you pretty well but you too of course :) no pressure to anybody if you'd rather not do it tho! & feel free to join in the fun and let me know u would like to foster mutual affection :D
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xpeachesncream · 4 years ago
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first position | one shot
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summary: your bestfriend’s ex ain’t shit, especially if he’s never made her orgasm. (based on this ask)
pairing: jungkook x reader x reader’s bestfriend
genre: (18+) college au | smut
words: 2.3k
warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, threesome, protected sex, multiple orgasms, breast play, oral (f. receiving), cum eating, ass smacking, pussy smacking, doggy style, hair pulling, slightly rough sex
note: drew some inspiration from lani’s “first position” song (linked above); please know that this is an entirely new level of smut for me so i apologize if shit sounds kind of off. super unfamiliar with threesome scenes, but i did my best to read up on actual accounts to see what people describe it to be like ahaha ALSO - wips are updated, feel free to see what my messy brain is working up nowadays lol enjoy ya’ll 🤓 this goes out to you, anon! i tried! lol
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"Baby, open up!" Jungkook says, knocking on your door. You stumble a bit, laughing with your bestfriend. You both had been drinking wine all night and shared a blunt together before calling your boyfriend, whining for some food.
"Gookieeee." You giggle as you open the door and throw your arms around his neck. He pulls back to kiss you on the lips before helping himself inside and tossing off his shoes.
"Jungkook! The savior!" Your bestfriend says as he sets the food down onto the kitchen counter.
"Yeah, yeah. Thank me later. I'd rather grab the food then let you two drunkies head out like this."
"We aren't drunk, silly."
"Okay." He chuckles as he plops onto the couch, manspreading as he flips the channel on your tv to the Warriors vs. Pacers basketball game. "That's more I like it."
"Excuse me." You say as you shove fries into your mouth, your bestfriend devouring her burger next to you in the kitchen. "You're getting comfortable."
"Mhm, I sure am."
"Babe, it's a girl's night."
"Mm no, it's no longer a girl's night after my babygirl asks me to leave the comfort of my bed just to bring her food."
"Sorry to interrupt your jacking off session."
"Yeah, exactly." He says. "What'd you guys drink tonight?"
"Wine, wine and more wine. Smoked a blunt too." He laughs.
"Time of your lives, ey?"
"Lana just got dumped by that ungrateful dumbass, of course I gotta treat her."
"Hey, for what it's worth Lana - Namjoon didn't deserve you." He looks at your bestfriend, sympathy poking through his facial expression. Lana and Namjoon had been dating on and off for almost 2.5 years until that stupid ass decided he wanted to cheat and pursue other women like he had it like that. He for sure didn't though. He couldn't even make Lana cum properly. At all, even.
"Yeah, he didn't even know how to make you cum." Jungkook's eyes widened.
"The fuck?" He chuckled. "Really? After all these years?"
"Um, yeah. I guess that's just how he gets down." She says shyly. She was so innocent, being that she hadn't really been in a relationship besides with Namjoon. She hadn't explored much being that he was so narrow minded and she did a lot to keep him happy in the relationship.
"So.. would you like, fake it?" Jungkook asks, curiosity in his eyes.
"No, she wouldn't even get there babe!"
"Huh?" He's utterly confused and he's not even trying to hide it.
"He would like, you know, do it until he came then that was it."
"Huh." He nods. "He wouldn't even try? Interesting." Kook says, making you laugh. "I make Y/N cum at least 5 times a day."
"Shut the fuck up, boy. No you don't." You throw a fry at him.
"Boohoo, okay. It's like 3 at the very least. I could make her cum more but she's always crying for me to stop cause she can't take it." You raise your middle finger at your boyfriend.
"H-how does it feel?"
"To cum?" Kook asks.
"Euphoric. Like no other." You respond. Jungkook looks at you, then back at her, a little turned on by the conversation. Lana was pretty, and she definitely deserved better as both you and Kook stated. She was innocent at best, but you knew she was curious.
"I wish I knew." She says, sipping on more wine, making a bright idea pop into your head.
"Hey." You lightly squeeze her side. "I have an idea, but it's totally okay if you don't wanna go with it. I don't wanna make you do something you aren't comfortable with."
"Hm?" She hums as she watches you give Jungkook a small smirk that he returns. He honestly doesn't know what your crazy ass is thinking about, but whatever it is, he's down. He always is, and that's what he loved about you - you were always down, and you taught him that. Life's too fucking short.
"Let's put you on." You say nodding to the room. "Let me and Kook show you what it's like." Jungkook almost chokes on his water.
"I-I— like a threesome? I don't know, I'm not that experienced, I wouldn't—"
"Girl, we'll guide you through it."
"But Jungkook, he's your boyfriend, I can't—"
"And that's not gonna change. He's down, trust me. Look at his stupidly cute face." You both turn to him, his doe eyes wide with a huge smile plastered on his face.
"Seriously though, Lana. If you aren't comfortable—" Jungkook chimes in, reassuring her.
"I'm down." She spits out and nods. "I'm down. Let's do it. As long as things don't change between us."
"It won't, I promise, okay?" You grab her hand and lead her to your room.
"Oh shit." Jungkook says, throwing the remote aside to catch you two. He walks in and stops at the door frame, watching you two sit on your bed. Honestly, he was down but he was also still feeling a little concerned about how this would go down. Of course, he was the only sober one here, you two being crossfaded almost out of your minds and more relaxed than he was. He didn't really have an issue though. As long as nothing changed between you, Lana and himself, then things would be fine. Especially between Lana and you. You had been bestfriends since college started.
He didn't think it would though, so fuck it.
"Just, follow along. Okay? If you're ever uncomfortable or want us to stop, just say so."
"Say ex or something weird." Jungkook spits out.
"Um, okay." You sit up on your knees as she leans back into your pillows, and gently start feeling up her arms.
"Relax, Lana." You say at a whisper, your lips about to fall onto hers. She takes the kiss as it builds up slowly. You feel her ease up, her arms climbing up yours as her tongue begins to explore and fight yours for dominance.
"Jeeeeesus fucking christ." Jungkook says, swiping his hand down his face as he continues to watch you and Lana tongue each other down. He felt himself getting harder by the minute, watching as the sound of sloppy, wet kisses began to fill the room and your shirts began to fly off. You pull away for a second to look back at him and signal for him to come over, his baggy long sleeve immediately coming off as he climbs onto the bed. You direct Lana to release your bra as you with hers. You're practically straddling her at this point, Jungkook's hands now roaming up your body. His hand grips your neck as he tilts it back, laying kisses along your jaw before nibbling your earlobe. You let out a breathy moan, your hips grinding against Lana's, causing her to bite her lip and let out a small moan as your hands begin to feel up on her breasts.
"Lay back." You say softly, Lana silently following the order. You begin to take off her leggings, throwing them across your room as Kook is gently laying kisses down your back. "Behind me, babe." You give him a quick look with Jungkook fully understanding the request. He steps off the bed, giving you space to lower yourself onto Lana's clothed clit. You press your lips against it while Jungkook is wrestling to take off your sweats and toss them aside, his fingers already getting busy with rubbing your clothed pussy as he tries to work with it from behind you and off the bed. Lana lets out a moan as she watches you closely, your finger hooking her panties to the side and your tongue giving her pussy a good swipe up. She trembles a bit with the contact, but settles quickly as you begin to work your mouth against her folds, then back up to her clit.
"Ohhhh shit. He's never done it like that." Lana says as she lets out a few breaths. You moan against her clit as Jungkook is now pumping his digits in and out of you quickly, his tongue continuously teasing, tip penetrating your entrance whenever his digits aren't doing the work. Lana's hips begin to buck upwards and grind onto your tongue, fucking her pussy more and more into this unfamiliar pleasure. "Oh fuck, oh my god! I don't know if I can do this." She whines as she grips the sheets, her knuckles turning white. You nod, signaling for her to let go as your tongue is now teasing her clit, working in up and down motions.
"Fuck, Kook!" You manage to spit out. You're so fucking turned on by the sight in your bedroom right now, and you have no idea if it's because you're pretty crossfaded, but this shit was pretty and all you wanted to do was feel good and make your bestfriend feel good. After all, she deserves to feel it once in her lifetime and if Namjoon wasn't gonna do that shit, then you'd gladly be the one to let her experience it.
"Cum for me, baby." He says as he quickly pulls back to give your pussy a good smack before he latches on again. "Let me feel it." The words alone, along with your moaning into Lana's clit, sends her over, her body trembling graciously in your grip.
"Fuck! What the fuck!" She screams, whining moans leaving her mouth quickly afterwards. You soon let yourself go, detaching yourself from her clit, your body trembling on all fours with Jungkook rubbing your clit like there's no tomorrow. The pain quickly turns into more pleasure, you crashing your body ontop of Lana's as you both try to regulate your breathing and come back down from your highs. Jungkook is hard as a fucking rock seeing the both of you completely fucked out already, especially you having done work on Lana at the same time as he pleased you.
"What do I do next?" You look at her as you finally gain the energy to raise your body a bit, shaking your head.
"Stay. Kook, get in her first." Jungkook is already unwrapping the first condom and sliding it down his dick.
"You both okay?" He manages to ask, Lana simply giving him a nod as he warns her with a tap of his reddened tip against her folds. "I'll take it slow. You just let me know what you want." You smirk down at her.
"Use him, Lana."
"W-what?" Her back slightly arches as her eyes roll to the back of her head feeling Jungkook fill her up. Although she had agreed to it, she didn't think her first fuck out of a relationship was gonna be with you and your boyfriend. Let alone did she ever think Jungkook would be penetrating her the way he was right now.
But fuck it. There's a first for everything.
"Use him." You repeat as you situate yourself on top of her, your lips landing back on hers with Jungkook's hand in your hair. "Tell him what you want to make you cum again."
"F-faster." She spits out in between kisses. Jungkook obeys, his thrusts now becoming quicker.
"Shit, dude." He says, his head tilting back in pleasure. "This is so fucking hot." You lower yourself a bit, your mouth latching onto her nipples one by one. You tease her a bit, your tongue flicking in and around her hardened bud, smirking into it when you hear her let out a loud moan.
"Fuck, yes. Please. Just like that." She begs. "Rougher please." You pull back on her nipple with a pop, lightly blowing air onto it as Jungkook begins to sloppily ram into her pussy. Caressing her skin, you can feel the goosebumps radiating throughout her body before you lower yourself back down onto her other nipple and repeat the process.
"Cum, Lana." Jungkook groans. "Cum all over this dick. It's your playing field right now." You smirk as your tongue continues to tease her nipple, her moans getting louder the more he hammers into her.
"Cum, babe." You say as you hop off and reach down to rub her clit. With just a few rubs, she's hurdling over the edge, her body trembling once more as she yells.
"Holy fuck! Ugghhhhhffffgod." Her breathing hitching as the aftershocks ripple through her.
"On your knees, babygirl." Jungkook orders you to get on your fours while switching out the condom to a new one, Lana slowly slipping out from under you to get on her fours and face you. Jungkook doesn't waste any time, roughly inserting himself into you and filling you up until he bottoms out. He feels a little more comfortable, knowing he can roughhouse the fuck out of you more than he could with Lana, so he begins to hammer into you and tug onto your hair at the same time.
"Jungkook, fuck." You moan, his large hand smacking your ass as he quickens his pace. Lana's now planting kisses along your neck while Jungkook holds you steady with your hair, her hands roaming around your breasts and giving them a good, gentle squeeze.
"Shit, I-I'm gonna cum soon." He says, biting his bottom lip. "Cum with me baby." He moans. Lana's hand travels down to your clit, copying what she's learned from you by rubbing it in circular motions.
"Ohhhhhhgod, yes!" You moan, but aren't able to release any other noise afterwards. You continue to whine as the loud, lewd noises of skin against skin continue filling the room. Sooner or later, you feel yourself unraveling, Jungkook's nails digging deep into your hips while Lana continues to rub your clit gently to help you ride out your high. "Oh my fucking god." You say as you try to regulate your breathing. Lana immediately throws her panties and her clothes back on, feeling shy with Jungkook being in the room.
"How'd that feel?" He says, throwing on his clothes while handing you yours. You look at her and smirk, licking your bottom lip.
"Good, I hope." Lana chuckles.
"Fucking amazing."
"Maybe we should do this more often."
"Baby, wait." Jungkook laughs. "You're fucking wild."
"She is, isn't she?" Lana rolls her eyes playfully.
"Hey, at least we gave you the ride of your life." You all make your way out of the room to get a little air and step away from the post sex-smelling room. "Next time I see Namjoon, I'll let him know what you look like when you cum." 
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babyboibucky · 4 years ago
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Devil’s Mark
Pairing: Rockstar!Bucky x Fem!Reader
Summary: You accept a temp job as a runner for a rockstar’s concert.
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: TW! Dubcon if you squint, toxic shit, filthy smut, mean!Bucky, rough oral (M receiving), rimming (M receiving), rough sex, slapping, overstimulation, Bucky marking you with a cigarette burn, MINORS DNI I BEG OF YOU
A/N: So this happened lmfao again, this is not to romanticize T*mmy L*e! I don’t care for him tbh, Seb’s tats and piercings were merely inspos for Rockstar!Bucky. Also, this piece sucks because it’s just idk, rushed and filthy and all over the place but I needed to get this out of my system so I can go back to my other WIPs lmfao
Also Rockstar!Bucky’s theme is Nine Inch Nails’ Closer sjcnkjsnakcs and please, he doesn’t have a goatee in this lmfao that fucking goatee ain’t working for me
Devil’s Mark Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST
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When you accepted the temp job as a runner for a certain rockstar's concert, you'd expected to follow the orders of the staff— bring some equipment to the other side of the venue, fix the lights over there, clean the microphones, buy them coffee— you know, the usual.
You did end up following orders, except that it involved taking the star of the show's cock down your throat.
Bucky Barnes was the epitome of a rockstar with his kohl-rimmed eyes, tattooed skin and piercings in unimaginable parts of his body. He smelled like smoke and leather, tasted like sex, sin and regret.
This was something you weren't supposed to do, hell, you'd never done something like this. At least, not with someone whom you just met a couple of minutes ago. But good god, there was something so irresistible about Bucky that made you say yes to him almost immediately.
Maybe it was the thrill of doing something that your mother warned you about, or the way Bucky looked at you like you were the prettiest thing he'd seen. Or was it his voice and how it sounded velvety-smooth yet rough around the edges whenever he praised you for being his good girl?
Perhaps it was Bucky's entire existence that made you want to desecrate your own image.
"Just like that. Doin' so good for me, sucking my fucking cock like your lollipop. You like how I taste?" Bucky cooed as he sat on the couch, eyes watching you as you kneeled in between his leather clad knees with your lips wrapped around the head of his cock.
You hummed and gripped his knees, hollowing your cheeks as Bucky's hands held your head to keep you in place. He grunted and threw his head back when you slid lower, doing your best to relax your jaw so you can take him further than you'd ever taken someone before.
"Fuckin' hell, sugar." Bucky groaned and violently pushed your head down, making you choke on his cock.
Tears pooled in the corners of your eyes, your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen when he forced you to stay in place. You could feel his cock pulsate against your throat, making you gag on it continuously. Your hands began to hit Bucky's thighs when he refused to let you go, your heart hammering against your chest as you panicked at the feeling of losing all the air in your lungs.
Bucky darkly chuckled, ignoring your actions. "Breathe through your nose, sugar. You can do it, c'mon." he cooed.
A mix of your spit and Bucky's cum escaped your mouth, dribbling along your chin down to your top, soaking through the fabric. You tried to follow Bucky's instructions and inhaled through your nose, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when you gagged again.
"Such a good whore for me, aren't you?" Bucky grunted, finally pulling your head by the hair, allowing you to gasp out for air.
Your cheeks were stained with your tears as you looked up at him, your chest rising and falling heavily with every breath you took. Bucky looked down at you lovingly, his hand tightening around your hair and the other gently caressing your cheek.
"You wanna make me happy, sugar?" he asked and you nodded eagerly.
Bucky then harshly gripped your face in his hand, squeezing your face as he tilted your head up so he could bend down and give you a kiss. It was sloppy, full of tongue and spit but it only spurred you on. The way Bucky was treating you was making you feel things you'd never felt before.
"I need your words, sugar. You wanna make me happy?" he asked again, louder this time.
"Yes, I want to." you said, voice hoarse from having his cock violently shoved down your throat.
Bucky slapped your face before gripping your jaw tightly, "Louder, sugar." he growled.
"Yes! Yes, I want to make you happy!" you exclaimed, eyes fluttering when Bucky tapped your cheek while praising you for being so fucking obedient.
You stayed on your knees and watched Bucky as he stood up, pulling his leather pants down further until he was completely naked. Wetness pooled in your panties as you took in the sight of Bucky, wanting him to just use you however he wanted.
To make you feel useful for once.
Bucky sat back down on the couch, spreading his legs as he gripped your neck, tugging you closer to his cock that rested against his tattooed abdomen.
"You wanna make me happy? I want you to fucking eat my ass." he growled and you blinked, not expecting his request.
Bucky noticed the hesitation on your part and leaned forward to kiss you again, this time taking your lower lip in between his teeth and tugging at it harshly until it bled.
"Not gonna ask you twice, sugar." he warned against your lips before leaning back against the couch.
Your trembling hand took his shaft, jerking him off as you bent forward to lick his balls first. Bucky grunted in response, his hips thrusting upwards as you continued to tug at his cock while your mouth proceeded to work on his sack.
A hiss slipped past your lips when Bucky took a fistful of your hair again, tugging you head back and lifting a brow at you.
"Sugar, I know what you're tryna do and that's not what I asked you." he said, gritting through his teeth and just like that, he dragged your head back down in between his legs as he leaned back against the couch.
Words failed to make it out of your mouth when Bucky pushed your face under his balls, his hand reaching down to grip his cock to jerk at it.
"Stick your tongue out, sugar. Make me feel good, you want that, don't you?" Bucky said, keeping your face in between his head.
You were more afraid to disappoint Bucky than your dignity, the feeling of being forced to do things you'd never imagined was making your thighs clench and your cunt weep. It never occurred to you that it was even possible for someone like you to enjoy being treated this way.
All this time you considered yourself holy, someone who couldn't bear to sin even if her life depended on it. And yet here you were, in between Bucky's legs with your tongue flattening against his puckered hole.
"Oh fuck, that's it." Bucky moaned at your first lick.
Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to get lost in Bucky's taste as you stiffened your tongue to prod his tight hole. His scent enveloped your senses, the sound of his hand jerking his cock coated with his own cum joining his grunts and groans that went straight to your core.
If this act was a sin, then why did it feel like heaven to you?
"You enjoy eating my ass, huh? Sugar? Yeah?" Bucky asked, grinning at you proudly as you looked up at him.
Seeing you like that made Bucky feral, lashes fluttering as you kept your innocent gaze on him while half of your face was buried deep in between his ass cheeks.
A saint who was willing to sin just for him.
Bucky pulled back and smiled down at you as you panted, "You ever been fucked?" he asked.
You nodded, letting him know that you've done the deed but never like this, of course. Bucky chuckled and cooed in amusement while letting his knuckles graze your cheekbone.
"I don't think so, sugar. At least, not like how I'm going to fuck you. Gonna ruin you for other men, make you mine and only mine. You gonna let me do that, sweet cheeks? Gonna let me use you however I want?" he asked but as usual, didn't wait for you to utter a single word to proceed.
Not that you were going to deny Bucky that.
He pulled you up to your feet by the arm, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before he unzipped your jeans and pulled it down together with your panties. Both your hands were quick to cover your mound from embarrassment, not sure whether Bucky preferred his women bare down there.
"Ah, ah." Bucky tutted, slapping your hands away before cupping your mound, making you jolt backwards at the cold sensation of the rings on his fingers.
"No need to be shy about a little hair down there." he said, dragging his hand upwards to play with the triangular patch of hair covering your mound before pushing you down on the couch.
"Open your legs, sugar. Show me how wet that fucking cunt is." he said.
He knelt down in front of you and almost salivated at the sight of your glistening pussy, so pink and so open as you spread your legs. A tinge of pink painted your cheeks as you watched Bucky nose the insides of your thighs, breathing in your scent while his hand continued to pump his cock.
"God, look at you. Dripping just for me." he moaned and then spit on your pussy, making you gasp out loud.
"I want you to make noise for me, wanna hear you scream my name. Wanna hear you beg for me..." he whispered before finally licking your cunt.
You moaned out loud, wanton and desperate for Bucky to keep going. He ate you out like you were his last meal, it was messy with his spit smearing across your thighs. Bucky was rough with you but god, the sounds he'd make as he lapped up your pussy was borderline obscene. Grunts, groans and muffled praises rang in your ear.
"Ride my face, sugar. Move those hips, smother me with your fuckin' cream. I want your scent on me, wanna smell you when I go onstage." he said and dove back in, your hips moving on their own accord as you chased your nearing high.
The surroundings spun around you and suddenly, all you could feel and hear was Bucky. His tongue and teeth on your cunt, his words of encouragement and then you were gone. Letting out a breathy moan when you came, you tried to close your legs but Bucky pinned them down on the couch as he continued to eat you out.
"Keep cumming, I want more. Give me more, sugar. Come on." Bucky urged and added his fingers into the mix.
Your thighs quaked and your clit was burning from how Bucky kept on sucking on it. Patches of your sweat began to soak your top, mixing along with the marks left by your drool and Bucky's cum.
"Bucky, I can't..." you sputtered out, grabbing at his hair and tugging him away.
That earned you a hard slap on your cheek, the sting only adding to the pleasure that was yet again building up within your core.
"Yes you can and you fucking will." he said and started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy hard and fast until you were crying out again as another wave of orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks.
You weren't even done riding out your first climax when your second washed over you. And Bucky was relentless and damn insatiable, getting up and sliding his cock into your throbbing cunt.
Your throat went dry with how your moans were slowly transforming into a high-pitched shriek. Bucky was unforgiving as he fucked you, ignoring how your hands were scratching at his forearms in an attempt to escape their grip on your waist. The pleasure was too much, it was borderline painful but it was addicting.
The way Bucky's cock was extending your second orgasm to the point of coaxing out a third was making you delirious.
"You gonna pass out on me, sugar? Can't take my cock that well, huh?" Bucky mocked, his palm tapping your cheek to keep you awake.
You shook your head and tried to speak but couldn't do so. All you could do was whimper and babble like a fucking idiot as Bucky pounded into you. Just as when you were about to explode, his thrusts turned slow and languid, giving you an opportunity to recover.
"You still with me?" he asked with a chuckle, running his fingers through his sweaty locks.
Swallowing, you hummed in response and ignored how your body felt like it was literally on fire. Bucky reached for his leather pants on the ground without pulling his cock out from your cunt. Taking out a cigarette stick and a lighter, he placed the stick in between his lips and lighted it up. He slowly pulled back at the same time he took a drag from his cigarette, the pleasure building up once more as he pushed back into you.
Bucky almost looked ethereal like that with the fluorescent light illuminating behind him, puffs of smoke surrounding his figure as he stood in between your spread legs. His nipple piercings glistening, his tattooed arm flexing when he grabbed the back of your knee, pushing it down onto the couch to further open you up.
"Tell me you're mine to use." he said, nodding his head at you.
"I'm yours to use, Bucky." you whispered.
He smiled a charming smile, almost boyish in charm as opposed to his rugged and rough appearance. And then he sped up his thrusts again, making your toes curl and your fingers ball into fists.
"Yeah, you're mine?" he asked.
You nodded, face scrunching up in pleasure. "Yes, Bucky. All yours. I'm yours, please..." you pleaded.
"Please what, sugar?" he taunted.
"So close, I can't..." you didn't know whether you wanted to cum again or if you wanted him to stop.
Your body was buzzing from overstimulation but Bucky loved it. He loved seeing you like this, wrecked and sobbing. He merely laughed and blew smoke into your face.
"You can, sugar. Gonna make sure you cum again." Bucky growled, snapping his hips in a particular angle that brought you so close to the edge.
"Gonna mark you to make sure no one will want to mess with you." Bucky said, taking his cigarette out from his lips and then pressing it down against the inside of your right thigh.
Your scream was from the combination of pain from the burn and pleasure from your orgasm, making your body tremble on the couch. Your eyes rolled, tears spilling from your eyes and your spit seeping from the corner of your swollen lips.
"That's right, fuck. Milking my fucking cock so well." Bucky grunted followed by a breathy moan when he spilled his seed inside of you without any warning.
Too spent to even realize it, you laid on the couch almost lifelessly when Bucky pulled out and started dressing up as if he didn't just fuck your brains out. It took you a few minutes to return to the right headspace and when you finally came around, Bucky was dressed up in a loose muscle tee and his leather pants.
He walked over to you and bent down to squeeze your face in his hand, eyes glazing over your naked body before he looked back into your half-lidded eyes.
"Goddamn, sugar. Lookit you." he darkly chuckled before kissing you sloppily.
And then just like that, he was out of the dressing room. You looked down at yourself, naked from the waist below and flinched at the cigarette burn on the inside of your thigh. The ache was tolerable now, your intense pleasure masking its pain when Bucky pressed it against your flesh.
The burn was in stark contrast to your skin tone. It stood out, haunting you and reminding you that you sold your soul to a devil on earth— the devil's mark.
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Everything Bucky Tag List:
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929 notes · View notes
guns-in-the-desert · 4 years ago
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Germany NSFW A-Z
I’m super excited to post this, I worked hella hard, so here it is.
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A= Aftercare
   He’s not the best at it, as being soft and comforting isn’t in his nature. It takes him a while to get good at it, and when he does, it’s super routine, almost robotic (let’s be honest, he made a checklist.). Step 1. Ask if  you're alright, Step 2. Wipe you down, and so on and so forth.
B= Body Part
  Not to be basic but, your boobs are hands down his favorite part of your body, he loves to squeeze them, even when y’all aren’t fucking, he’ll play with them without even realizing, bonus points if you have sensitive nipples. On him he really likes his arms, he likes how they look around your waist, and how easily he can pick you up.
C= Cum
  Ludwig is a Super neat person, so he likes a quick and easy clean up. He likes to nut inside you/a condom or in your mouth, not only does he think it’s hella hot, but also there's little to no mess, it’s 10/10 for him.
D= Dirty secret
  He would die before telling anyone this, but he steals your panties, not that you don't know, he’s quite bad at returning them, so you notice them missing. He really wants to stop, but he just thinks it’s so hot, and they remind him of the different times you've done it, for example: You wore that pink velvet thong the first time he tied you up. P.S they're not always clean when he takes them, at this point don’t even let him do laundry
E= Experience
  He’s not as experienced as you might think, he’s quite awkward actually. He’s done it a few times, but he still can’t can’t look at your bare body without blushing, watches HELLA porn though , but don’t expect him to admit it.
F= Favorite Position
  He absolutely LOVES fucking you against the wall, you would never know it, but he’s kind of a show off. This position shows off his strength (and his biceps), plus he gets to feel your tits against him, it’s a win win situation for him.
G= Goofy (is he more serious or goofy in bed)
 This man ain’t even goofy in day to day life, like, at all. Y’all know damn well he did not come to play any kind of games with you, I wish you would try and crack a joke while his dick is out.
H= Hair
  He's neat, he trims regularly, he's well maintained and well groomed, would never shave it completely off (he gets cold) because it makes him feel less manly
I= Intimacy
  He’s not goofy, also not very intimate, he’s quite aggressive, being gentle isn’t in his nature, not that he’s trying to be during sex, like italy said in the show “he’s like some sort of super sadist.”.
J= Jack off
  He jacks off, a lot, don't ask him though, he’d practically deny knowing what masturbating is, claims it’s “DISGUSTANG”, despite literally getting porn for christmas. You've caught him in compromising positions multiple times, still denies ever doing though.
K= Kink
  “He's like some sort of super sadist.” Italy said it best will literally rock your shit for the hell of it. Flogging, spit, bondage, the whole nine yards, know s, almost no limits, will he slap you across your face and call you a whore? Yes. Will he choke you until your face turns blue? Yes. Will he tie you with a vibrator and leave you for hours? Definitely. Will he make you walk on a leash and sleep in a dog bed? Absolutely. Can he look at your tits, without blushing? Of course not, what are you, fuckin crazy?
L= Location
  The bed, he does NOT want to even risk getting caught, he’d be WAY too embarrassed. He decided to get frisky in the living room once, and Gil walked in. He didn’t fuck you for a week and he didn’t talk to his brother for a month, partially because Gilbert’s and asshole and takes every oppurtunity he has to bully his younger brother, partially due to embarrassment. 
M= Motivation
  Almost everything, surprisingly, he’s actually a pretty horny dude, but if you really wanna get him going, beg, he loves to see you beg, you could also crawl around on the floor in low cut top, and skirt in front of him, but don’t be surprised if you get a collar the next day.
N= No
  Will not, and I mean NEVER ever even consider sharing you under any circumstances. He doesn't care how much you beg and plead. Why would you want somebody else with y’all is there something he’s doing wrong, ask him again, I dare you, you'll get your ass beat, I mean it, in the hottest way possible of course.
O= Oral
  Ludwig prefers receiving, and even though you’re doing the sucking, he’s doing the work. Really rough, so don't be surprised if cum is coming out of your nose by the end of it. When it comes to giving, my guy had a stiff ass tongue at first, like he licked your pussy mad hard, he figured it out eventually, thank god.
P= Pace
  Surprise surprise, he’s mad rough, but does find a pace and a rhythm quite quickly, which is a really good trait not many people have (I assume) it’s easy to get into, which is always pleasant. It goes very smoothly.
Q= Quickies 
  Not the biggest fan of quickies but he’ll do them nonetheless, they just aren’t his favorite, he’d pick it over masturbation, not that he does that of course, your always a better option with his hand.
R= Risk
  He takes risks in the sense that he likes to experiment with new toys, kinks, roleplays, etc. not with location though, he sticks to the bedroom and the shower exclusively, and he's even iffy about that.
S= Stamina
  This man spent a decent chunk of the show running, so he can and will go for hours. It's kind of insane. 
T= Toys
  Yes, of course, ropes, vibrators, flogs, you name it, he's got it, it’s as simple as that.
U= Unfair
  While foreplay lasts for quite a while, he isn’t much of a tease. With the exception of the occasional orgasm denial, he’s pretty straight to the point. He doesn't see a reason to drag things out when it’s not necessary. Like if you're  getting flogged, you're getting flogged, there's no if, ands, or buts, he doesn't have time for talking or teasing.
V= Volume
  He sucks at dirty talk, so he lets his actions do all the talking. Doesn't really make noise during sex, there’s the occasional grunt, but even thats rare
W= Wild Card
  So I mentioned before that you caught him in compromising positions in the past, the first time this happened was an absolute disaster. You had walked in to ask him what he wanted for dinner, he looked like a deer in headlights. You asked him what he was doing and his response was “I lost my turtle.” I don't know what part of him thought he would believe because; 1) He doesn't own a turtle, 2) he somehow lost it in his dick? So for this to make sense, he would have had to go and buy a turtle, have it near his penis for whatever reason, proceed to forget about said turtle, and after all that it still would explain how a turtle would fit into anyway, like I know you have foreskin, but, damn. So you ask him if he was masterbating, which obviously ended like this “NEIN, THAT’S DISGUSTING!” 
X= X-Ray
  Big dick,  more girthy than it is long, but it still has quite a bit of length, has the slightest curve, and a vein along the underside, he’s uncut. Wait till you see this man in grey sweatpants.
Y= Yearningh  In the top 10 for characters with the highest sex drive, He’s number seven on the list. Which says more about the people above him than it says about him, himself.
Z= ZZZ (How quickly does he fall asleep after?)
  Either he’s out immediately, or  he gets up and does work, there is ZERO in between with this man, I really don’t know what to tell y’all.
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I really hope y’all enjoyed, I don’t have any WIPs as of right now. So, I write when I get ideas until I get more requests. See y’all in the next one. Bye for now
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