#and some fuckin how i was still driving perfectly

[beaversatemygrandma]

Another thing about the other day (27th) my playlist in the car decided to stab me in the gut and twist it.

Famous Last Words. MCR. That shit hit me like a truck for some reason. Breaking out sobbing while driving, thinking about my dog, and probably pissing off the guy I was accidentally tailgating bc I Needed To Go Home and was uncharacteristically speeding.

"I am not afraid to keep on living I am not afraid to walk this world alone Honey, if you stay, I'll be forgiven Nothing you can say can stop me going home"

*screams*

[storiesofsvu]

Confidence Boost

Derek Morgan x reader warnings: language, some body insecurities, smut, squirting A couple of different req's combined into one. I'll admit it sat in the wip pile for a little too long, but let's hope that doesn't happen anymore!

Derek was fresh out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist when he entered the bedroom, finding you in front of the mirror with a frown on your face. You were fiddling with your shirt, tucking it in then untucking it, pulling it tight, pinching at it to fall loose, pulling it over to only one side all while you turned in various degrees to see all the angles of your body. You let out a huff, hands dropping to your sides as your head tilted and you pulled up your shirt, pinching at your sides and stomach, pulling at your skin.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head baby?” He asked, crossing the room and you let out a huff, finally pulling your gaze away from the mirror.

“Are these jeans too small?” You asked, frown still on your lips as you turned back to the mirror, continuing to pinch at your skin.

“Do I have to fight somebody?” Derek asked, only half kidding as his arm wrapped around your waist from behind and he pressed a kiss to the crook of your neck.

“Did you see that pic Elise posted on insta from lunch?”

“Mmhmm.” He nodded, kissing at your neck again.

“My mother so kindly, and very publicly commented on it that it was looking like I should be laying off the fries and cocktails.”

“Bullshit.” He huffed in annoyance.

“Just made me think maybe she’s right.” You face dropped as your eyes returned to the mirror and you continued picking at your skin and adjusting your shirt. “We went shopping after and nothing I tried on fit properly in my regular size, maybe I need to do a cleanse….” You trailed off as your head tilted, gazing at your body in the mirror.

“Baby, I wish you could see the way I see you.”

“What’d you mean?” You asked, your head twisting to see his face and he pressed a kiss to your cheek before turning your face back toward the mirror.

“Well for starters, these jeans are your tightest pair.” His thumbs slipped into the waistband, tugging gently at it to prove the point as they barely moved from your body, “and I know that because they’re the ones that show off this gorgeous fuckin’ ass.” His hands moved around and squeezed at your ass, spanking you gently and he was happy to hear the little squeal you let out was followed with a laugh. His hands ghosted around your waist, taking your hands in his so you would stop scrutinizing yourself, “they’re so tight it doesn’t matter how tiny someone is once you’re sitting down they’re gonna push in on your stomach.” His hand brushed over your tummy, “and you’d just finished a big, fueling, nutritious lunch with carbonated drinks, a little bloat is natural.” He kissed the side of your neck again, “you are perfectly fucking stunning just the way you are. I think you’re the sexiest,” another kiss, “most beautiful,” another kiss, “stunning woman I have ever seen.” This time he nipped at your sensitive skin and your head fall back against his shoulder as you let out a little sigh.

“Derek…”

“Baby, you and this gorgeous body drive me absolutely wild.” He rolled his hips against your ass and you could already feel his cock starting to get hard, “and I will absolutely show you how much I love it and you.”

“Please…” You murmured and he chuckled, spinning you in his arms so he could kiss you properly. He caught your chin in his hand, directing your lips to his and you couldn’t help but moan into the kiss.

Every time Derek kissed you he put every ounce of pleasure and love into it, lips molding to yours, moving with grace in the dance you’d perfected over the years. Your arms wrapped around him, fingernails tickling at the back of his neck and the arm he had around your waist tightened, pulling you closer to him. His tongue slid across the seam of your lips and you gladly parted them, letting him slide into your mouth. He began to back you towards the bed, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss to tug it over your head. Returning to the kiss he started work on the offending jeans, shoving them down your legs along with your underwear and you did your best to kick them the rest of the way off while he got rid of your bra.

“Lie back princess.” He nudged you toward the bed and you were quick to drop down onto it, shuffling backwards until you were nestled against the pillows. “God just look at you…” He purred, hands ghosting up your legs as he climbed onto the bed.

You let out a little giggle, your cheeks heating as your arms crossed over your body, turning your face away from him and into the pillows. “Derek…”

“Oh c’mon baby girl, none of that.” His hand softly gripped your chin, turning your gaze back to his, “there’s no reason for you to play shy.”

Derek ducked down, kissing you gently while his hands moved your arms, guiding them to loop around his shoulders while he deepened the kiss, tongue slipping into your mouth. You couldn’t help but relax into the bed, your whole body melting at the feeling of his embrace as his tongue rolled against yours. One of his hands crept up your side, fingers tickling your skin, drawing patterns across your body as he went, teasingly slow. He traced the shapes and curves of your body, somehow leaving a pathway of both heat and goosebumps as he went, creeping closer to your more intimate areas. His fingers brushed just under the curve of your breast and his lips curved up into a smirk at the feeling of your back arching off the bed to lean into the touch. His hand came to rest, just there, just close enough for you to know it was coming but not bothering to move it any further quite yet.

You couldn’t help it, letting out a small whine into the kiss as you felt the need beginning to build up within you, tingles shooting through your body from where Derek was touching you all the way down into your pussy, gently fluttering around nothing. His lips pressed into the corner of yours, trailing a hot and sticky path across your jawline before he nipped your earlobe, his breath hot on your skin.

“Just relax for me baby, I’ll make you feel good, promise.” He pressed a gentle kiss right behind your ear and your eyes fluttered shut as his lips made their way down the column of your neck.

Derek’s nose nudged at your chin, turning your face away from him so he had better access to your sensitive skin, teeth gently scraping your neck before he sucked at the same spot, tongue laving across it. He let out a soft groan against your neck, his body nearly grinding down onto yours as he bit into your pulse point and you moaned, a hand wrapping around the back of his neck. While his mouth made a home in the crook of your neck, determined to leave you with a few marks his hand finally slid upwards, groping at your chest.

“Oh god…” You moaned, your body arching into the touch and you could feel Derek chuckle against your skin.

“You like that baby?” He asked, fingers pinching at your nipple, earning a small gasp from you as the tingles shot through your body once more.

While his mouth latched onto your neck he rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pressing harder around it at random intervals until you were whining underneath him. He shifted slightly so he could mimic the movements on the other side, barely pulling himself away from your neck so he could see the way your nipples had hardened from his teasing.

“My princess does like that.” He teased with a grin and you were about to retort with something smart but his mouth was on your skin again, tongue licking its way across your collarbone and your head fell back into the pillows with a soft sigh leaving your lips.

Every touch from Derek was electrifying your senses, you felt him on your body, tongue, lips, teeth, hands, the weight of his frame on top of you as he left a path of kisses on the center of your chest. Fire prickled under your skin with each touch, tingling through you, lighting up your senses and sending pleasure shooting through you, building deep in your stomach with each pass of his mouth. One hand wrapped around one of your tits, groping it, thumb brushing over your sensitive nipple while his mouth found your other one. He bit at the top curve of your chest, tongue lapping out to sooth the burn before his lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth.

“Fuck…” You let out a gasp, feeling the tingles picking up and you couldn’t help but rub your legs together in search for some relief, your pussy beginning to ache between them.

Derek’s tongue flicked at your nipple while his finger did the same on the other one, teasing and toying with you, teeth scraping against your tender flesh while you began to writhe on the bed underneath him. He pulled your nipple away from your body, letting it go with a lewd pop, watching the way your mouth fell open and you let out a breathy sigh at the feeling. It only took a moment for him to swap sides, repeating the motions, his cock twitching between his legs at the sounds coming from your lips.

“That’s it baby…” he husked against your skin, “relax… I don’t want you thinkin’ about anything aside from how good this feels.”

“Mmm…” you whined in response, your breath catching in your throat as his teeth sunk into your skin again.

His hands ghosted over your stomach, fingers trailing across your skin with a featherlight touch while his mouth stayed on your chest. He shifted between your legs, hands rubbing at your inner thighs as he spread them wider for himself, now able to fully settle between them, the towel around his waist falling to the side. His hands wrapped around your thighs, massaging gently, thumbs pressing into your skin just enough to help you relax into the bed, spreading your legs wider for him while his mouth continued to toy with your chest. Derek slid one of his hands between your legs, cupping at your heat, lips curving upwards at the quiet gasp that escaped your lips. His palm massaged your pussy slowly, gently, just enough to have your hips softly rocking into the touch while breathy moans came from your mouth. His lips stayed wrapped around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth deeper as he continued to toy with you.

“Fuck Derek..” you sighed, feeling your wetness smearing across his hand each time he rubbed at you.

“Relax pretty girl.” He murmured.

Two of his fingers slid through your lower lips a few times, the tips of them barely dipping into your heat, collecting your juices before coming up to rub your clit and your breath caught in your throat. Your hips jumped up off the bed and he chuckled against your skin pressing harder on the nub before his hand returned to your entrance. One finger slid in easily, twirling inside you while the heel of his hand brushed against your clit,

“Already so wet, baby.” He grinned, nipping at your chest and you let out a small whine.

“More, please.”

“Anything my girl wants.”

A second finger slid in to join the first and you let out a soft moan at the feeling, gently stretching your soaked walls out. Derek hummed against your chest, his fingers pumping faster in and out of your cunt, beginning to scissor randomly. He reluctantly pulled his mouth away from your chest, sitting up between your legs and each time his fingers came out of your pussy they were slick with even more of your juices. Your sporadic moans were replaced with breathy whimpers, your hands clawing at the bedsheets as your body arched off the bed, pleasure shooting through you, you could feel it building deeper and tighter in your stomach, fire crackling under your skin.

Derek sunk his fingers as deep as he could into your pussy, letting out a soft groan as he did, feeling the way you were already pulsing around him.

“That’s it baby, wanna feel you squeezin’ me tight.”

He placed his free hand down right above your clit, thumb angled so he could play with the swollen nub as he continued to finger you. Feeling you flutter around his fingers again he thrusted back into you before curling his fingers, quickly finding the sensitive spot inside you and the hand on your lower stomach pressed down gently, thumb flicking at your clit.

“Fuck!” You moaned, your back arching off the bed, pleasure about to burst within you and all you could hear were the squelching noises coming from your cunt as Derek’s fingers picked up speed again.

“Relax pretty girl.” He purred, “just let go… trust me.”

Derek’s thumb increased pressure and pace, rubbing at your clit with more intent, watching with pride at the way your hips continued to buck up off the bed, griding against his hands harder with each thrust of his fingers. Your juices had drenched his hand, slicking down his wrist and dripping down your cunt making a complete mess of things and you didn’t have a care in the world, his touch electrifying your senses as you felt it twisting tighter and tighter inside you, the spark about to burst into a full flame.

“Oh fuuu-ck… fuck!”

Your thighs began to shake, threatening to close if Derek hadn’t been sat between them and he pressed down harder on your stomach, thumb rubbing faster at your clit while the fingers inside dragged across your g-spot. Your hips shot off the bed as you let out a cry, the damn bursting, the prickling under your skin exploding into pleasure you felt through your entire body. Your pussy clamped down around Derek’s fingers, juices spurting out, a second smaller wave coming when he pressed against your g-spot again and you swore.

“Fuck..” your body shook against the bed, “oh my god…. Oh my god…”

“Fuck that was hot as hell.” Derek murmured, finally pulling his drenched fingers from you, watching your cunt squeeze around nothing as you began to catch your breath. “Feel better princess?” He asked, barely giving you time to nod before he ducked his mouth down to your pussy, tongue lapping out to clean up your juices. He sucked and kissed at your thighs, avoiding the still sensitive spots until you’d finally stopped trembling and his tongue surged through your folds, letting out a groan at your taste, barely flicking against your clit before he crawled back up the bed.

“Christ…” You muttered and he laughed softly, “I’ve never done that before.”

“First time for everything.” He replied, leaning over you to kiss you and you let out a soft moan at the feeling of his cock twitching against your thigh.

“Need you…” you murmured, feeling his lips curve up into a grin as he wrapped a sturdy arm around your waist and rolled onto his back.

“How about you ride me? I wanna see this gorgeous body.”

A small smile on your face you pushed up to sitting, straddling his hips as you rubbed your pussy over his cock a few times, grinding down onto him, smearing your wetness and his head fell back into the pillows as he let out a low hiss. Your hand reached between your bodies, wrapping around his cock and lining it up with your entrance while Derek’s hands found your waist to help brace you as you sunk down onto him. A mutual moan and quiet swear echoed through the room as he filled you, now fully stretching you out.

“Fuck, pussy feels so fucking good.” He moaned, his ever so slightly rocking up into yours and you let out a small squeak, pussy fluttering around him.

Bracing your hands on his stomach you pushed up until just the head was left inside your pussy and then sunk down all the way, setting a steady pace as you began to ride him. Still sensitive, your pussy was already pulsing, squeezing his cock in the perfect way, you could feel him throbbing inside you, the head rubbing against your g-spot with each rock of your hips. You began to let out small whines, your eyes fluttering nearly shut as the pleasure began to build up again. Derek’s hands squeezed around your waist,

“God look at you…” he groaned, “so pretty riding my dick. Always take me so well baby, you’re doing so good for me.” His eyes raked over your body, watching the way your tits were bouncing, how your lower lip was pulled in between your teeth and you brow was furrowed. He felt himself twitch inside you, resulting in your pussy clamping down around his cock and he let out a loud groan. “Play with those gorgeous tits…”

He squeezed at your hips again, making sure he had a hold on you to guide you riding him and your hands started to slide up your body. You cupped your chest, groping at the tender flesh as you let out a soft moan before pinching at your nipples and a small gasp left your lips.

“Fuck…”

“That’s it baby.” He grunted, “so fucking hot.” He drove his cock deeper into you and you let out a louder whine. “Gonna need you to come for me again princess, squirt all over my cock.”

He knew he was too close to last much longer and judging by the way you were clenching down around him and the wetness where your bodies were joined, you weren’t far off either. You let out a needy whine, your head nodding as you continued to toy with your tits. One of Derek’s hands left your waist, fingers quickly rubbing your clit again and you felt the similar sensation beginning to build.

“Oh god don’t stop!” You moaned, thighs beginning to quake, “fuck, Derek, s-so good!”

“Yeah?” He groaned, pressing harder against the pulsing nub, “you like that?”

“Mm-mm hmm.” You whined, “gonna make me come.”

“Then come for me baby.”

With a final press of his fingers, he rolled his hips just right and you cried out, your back arching before your entire body rocked forward, hands catching yourself on Derek’s chest as your orgasm rocked through you. Derek let out a low swear, feeling your juices drenching his cock, dribbling out around it as you did your best to continue to ride him.

“So good for me.” He husked, your body trembling in his arms, as you panted. He braced his feet on the bed, driving his cock faster and deeper into you as he chased his own release, panting into the crook of your neck before letting out a low swear and a grunt, his hips stilling against your own.

“Fuck…” you muttered, feeling his release coat your walls as you finally relaxed against him, nuzzling into his neck.

Derek’s arms squeezed gently at you, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as you caught your breath. Once he’d stopped twitching and could control his breathing again his hands began soothingly rubbing up and down your back, finger tips tracing patterns across your skin, peppering your cheek and shoulder with kisses. You let out a satisfied hum at the feeling, turning your head to face his so you could kiss him properly.

You shifted slightly, a breath escaping your lips as his cock slipped from you and you dropped to the bed beside him. He did his best to kick up one of the blankets, wrapping it around your waists while you nestled into his side, welcoming the embrace of his arm around you. Derek softly played with your hair while you traced the outlines of his shoulder tattoo. You let out a very happy sigh, pressing a kiss to his chest and his finger curled under your chin, tilting it up to him and he pressed a tender kiss to your lips.

“Feeling better now baby?”

“Incredibly.”

“Don’t feel the need to bad talk my favourite girl anymore?” He asked and you giggled, playfully rolling your eyes as you swatted at his chest.

“No.”

“Good.” Smiling, he kissed you again, “because you are without a doubt, the love of my life. And your body is beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, sexy and I love it just as much as I love you. Woman, I would happily suffocate between your thighs.”

“Derek!” This time you laughed loudly, punching his arm.

“What? I would.”

“Way to ruin a sentimental moment.” You half scolded; half teased, rolling out of the sheets to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I had to get you moving somehow.” He joked, “if we don’t get in the shower now we’re gonna be late for dinner.”

“Jerk.” You grinned, moving toward the bathroom as he scooped up the towel discarded from earlier.

“Hey, you’re the reason I have to shower twice.”

“Uh.. pretty sure you instigated, and you would have no matter what.”

“Yeah? How am I supposed to resist that ass.” He whipped the towel in the direction of your ass and you squealed, darting for the bathroom with Derek quick on your heels, “love that ass.”

“Perv.” You retorted, turning back to him and he grabbed you around the waist, pulling you to him.

“But I love you more.” He tapped the tip of your nose before his hand cupped your cheek and he kissed you deeply.

“I love you too.”

______________

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[agentmarvel]

Can we have headcanons of fem!reader wife x 141 guys and how they each handle her leaving for girl’s night out in a really skimpy dress?

I think they’d all have hilarious reactions.😂

Omg yesssss

NSFW under the cut

MDNI - 18+

♡ Price:

Oh lord, that man is NOT letting you out of the house.

"Where ya think you're going in that?"

gets a little pissy when you remind him you have one girls night a month, and you have every right to wear whatever you want

"Doesn't mean you have the right to show anyone else what's mine, love."

will physically block the door with his whole body, knowing you won't be able to move him unless he allows it

he isn't mad - no, quite the opposite! it's taking every ounce of his self-restraint not to rip that damn thing in half and have his way with you right there on the foyer floor

"John, move. I don't want to be late!" - "Shame... You should've thought about that before you put on something you know damn well I can't resist."

he thinks it's cute when you argue with him, but you both know this ends up with your front pressed up against the door, panties pulled to the side, and his cock buried to the hilt inside you

after he cums, he pulls your panties back into place and gives you a harsh swat on the ass, not caring that your make up is a little smudged or that your legs are jello while he's giving you that smug look he wears so well

"Enjoy your night out, Mrs. Price. Hurry home."

♡ Gaz:

he's on you before you even walk out of the bathroom after you finish your hair

wraps his arms around your waist, puts his chin on your shoulder, tells you how pretty you look

"This dress new? Haven't seen it on the floor before."

ohhhhh, he is so down bad for you, even after as long as you've been together

makes it a point to grab a quick selfie bc he knows it's a solid confidence booster, and he wants you to feel as beautiful as you look

it doesn't really cross his mind that anyone would try anything on you - you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, and he knows who you'll come home to; he knows who's bed you'll be in tonight, who's name you'll be calling in the dark

he even helps you pick the right shoes, even though you know he picks his favorite pair in hopes of seeing you in just those when you get home

ever the gentleman, he walks you out to your car, reminds you to drive safe, call him if you have too much to drink, etc.

he does, however, make it a point to send you some downright raunchy texts and a photo of his more... physical reaction, just in case you needed some motivation to come home a little early

when you get home (early), he's still riled up; he's too impatient to wait for you to make it upstairs, much less to unzip your dress for you, so you end up riding him on the landing until he's too tongue-tied to keep telling you how hot you look

♡ Soap:

you're not making it out of the house. Period.

the SECOND Johnny lays eyes on you, it's over

he's grabby as hell, digging his fingers into any part of you that he can - squeezing your ass, your hips, your thighs, tits, tummy, anything - while he navigates you to the nearest surface

"Yer so fuckin' pretty, baby. Never seen something so fuckin' perfect in my god damn life."

it doesn't matter if you end up on the couch, the kitchen counter, in the back yard; he's eating your pussy like a death row prisoner's last meal until you're crying, trying to wrench his head away with the hair tangled in your fist

he has your dress bunched up around your waist, straps pulled down so he can play with your nipples, but uses the whole garment as leverage while he fucks you stupid

you should've known better than to put a t-bone in front of a starving dog and expect it not to bite

"Go ahead, bonnie; text your little friends, tell them you're not gonna make it, yeah?"

♡ Ghost:

"'course, love. Have fun, be careful, call me if you need a ride."

Simon isn't too worried initially; he knows there isn't going to be a single soul in that bar willing or able to face his wrath should anything untoward happen. but then he actually sees what you're wearing, and all bets are off

that's why he follows you, he tells himself, it has nothing to do with the insatiable urge to destroy your ability to walk tomorrow

nothing trumps your safety, in terms of his priorities. he's simply here to look out for his wife, right?

wrong. he spends the next hour and a half watching you from a darkened corner of the bar while his palms itch with a need to touch

opportunity knocks when you excuse yourself from the table, and he follows you into the restroom, slipping in before you have a chance to lock the door

you're not surprised to see him (duh, you know him better than just about anyone), but you are surprised to find yourself bent over the sink, looking Simon in the eye through his reflection. he's fucking you mercilessly, spewing absolute filth while he pulls your head back by your hair

"My perfect little whore, hmm? Waltzing around in that tiny dress, wearing my fuckin' ring, rubbin' it in everyone's faces that you only open those pretty legs for me."

he wants to cum on your face, but you pout about the possibility of it getting in your eye, or worse, on your dress, so he settles for letting you swallow it instead

his impulses return not much longer after you return to your table; instead, he texts you that he's ready to head out, and you are all too quick to oblige

[juuuulez]

mikey is such a cutie patootie!! i imagine that his family all really love you (and maybe pin too much hope on you to ‘save’ him) so at holidays everyone’s just so sweet to you. everyone knows they can joke or make snide comments at mikey, but god forbid anyone goes after you (uncle lee made the mistake of accusing you of drugs too. it’s a good thing donna totaled her car because otherwise lee would be fucked up)

and idk mikey can be so sweet i know he can!! you’re kind of the pete to his sugar in a way

literally agree like he just needs HIS person and he would be so proud to show you off

a berzatto christmas is chaotic but you’ll quickly learn how to handle that energy, knowing it’s just common for them. everyone (or at least most of them) treat you well, and sometimes you’re even enough to diffuse the tensest of situations.

“hey! your hookers here!” uncle lee will shout when you walk through the door, not so much an announcement to mikey as it is to the room, something to gain a reaction. thankfully he isn’t around right now, for that would be the beat-down of the century.

you offer lee a thin smile, knowing by this point not to engage. “merry christmas to you, too.”

the house is warm and alive with energy, everyone you pass throwing a greeting your way. natalie stops you for a hug, her hands smoothing down your dress and making a comment about how nice it looks, but “aren’t you cold, sweetheart? did you drive here? we’ll get you a coat for later, okay?”

on the way to the kitchen, you have to physically evade richie’s hand coming to mess with your hair. it’s been perfectly done up for the occasion and his big hand serves as an obstacle, wanting to ruffle it like usual.

you huff and swat his arm away, ducking quickly through the door and missing the glare it earns him from tiff.

finally, you make it into the kitchen. it’s disorganised and messy, pots overflowing, spoons left on the counter. carmy is trying to reign in the situation, in his own silent way, not wanting to cause any additional tension.

“hey, d.” you greet donna from behind, who was too caught up in whatever to notice your arrival. she turns around with an exasperated noise, both her hands finding your shoulders before moving to your cheeks.

“how are you?” she asks, but is talking before you can get a response in. “i was reading this magazine, and there was this model, and i swear, it looked— hey! hands off!”

whatever tangent donna was on is interrupted as carmy goes to stir a pot, to which she bats his hands away, going on about its contents and how it needs to simmer.

“it smells good in here!” you chirp, a smile on your face as you open the fridge.

“wine,” donna continues, “did you want some wine? here, sweetheart. let me pour you a glass.”

“no, no, i’m okay!” you quickly interject, already having found a cold bottle from the fridge. “beer is good, beer will be fine.”

she makes an offhanded comment about needing to “treat yourself to something nice” and not drinking “cheap garbage.” meanwhile, donna continues pouring the aforementioned glass, only to sip from it herself while she cooks.

you take about three gulps of the beverage before footsteps bring another presence to attention. it’s always easy to hear mikey before seeing him, for he’s often already yelling to you from the other room. this time it’s a call of your name, loud and warm, so you flutter closer to the doorway to meet him.

“hey,” you greet with a smile, hands reaching for the fabric of his sweater while his find your hips. “you look good. like this colour on you.”

“says you,” mikey will quip back. “this fuckin’ dress on you, jesus. tryna’ kill a man, huh?”

it gets a giggle out of you, cheeks flushing red at the blatant compliments despite the others in the room. it was something you were still adjusting to: showing love so casually and shamelessly no matter the circumstances, like it was the only thing that mattered.

“merry christmas, bear.” you coo, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

it earns a squeeze of your hips, mikey moving to kiss back. “merry christmas, baby.”

“can you guys please fuckin’ move.” carmy snaps suddenly.

the peace is again broken, with donna scolding him and going on and on about something you pay no mind to. it onto causes carmy to heat up further, complaining about how you’re both in the way in that usual overwhelmed sense.

mikey doesn’t help, chiming in with his own remark. “oh, is our affection ruining your flow? you know what your problem is, you gotta chill out. it’s christmas, and you’re fuckin’ wound up—”

“okay, okay. we will move. let carmy have his peace.” you interrupt him, trying to save the conversation by giving mikey a little push to usher him out of the kitchen. it works, thankfully, for the second that he spots richie he’s going on again about some other story you’re sure you’ve already heard, but is somehow relevant right now.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

dom!steve harrington x reader

steve ‘punishes,’ reader with a vibrator on the drive home after she embarrasses him in front of his parents. pet name ‘kitten,’ is used for reader. use of a sex toy, dom/sub relationship, oral (f receiving) dry humping

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You squeezed your thighs together, clenching and releasing the pressure to stimulate yourself. Steve wouldn’t allow you to use your hands. You’d lost that privilege when you ran your mouth at breakfast.

He refused to look at you from the drivers seat, his dark eyes narrowed at the road ahead. Steve was well aware of the discomfort you were feeling, and that he was the cause of it. Lodging a vibrator between your thighs and forcing you to sit on it the whole drive home would make anyone a little uncomfortable, to say the least…

You wanted to move, to grind against the toy, but Steve’s rules were written in stone. You were to sit perfectly still on top of the vibrator, without touching yourself, no matter how much it hurt. “What kind of punishment would it be?” Steve had asked, while strapping you into your seat. “If I didn’t make it hurt a little?”

The drive home from Steve’s parent’s house was almost over, thankfully. You wondered what other plans he had for you at home?

Embarrassing Steve in front of his parents at breakfast had been a dick move on your part. You already knew the relationship he had with them wasn’t great. Making a negative comment about his salary working at a video store had brought on a landslide of criticism from Steve’s parents. You’d felt guilty almost immediately after making the disparaging remark; but watching Steve’s face fall as his parents brought him down was what really made the guilt sink in…

When you’d said your goodbyes and made it to the end of the driveway, Steve grumbled at your ear to “get your ass in the car.”

You tried to apologize, but Steve cut your words short with a snap of his fingers. “You disrespected me today, (y/n). In front of my fucking parents.”

Steve pulled you in for a kiss, a sharp kiss that felt more like a bite. “I think you need a little lesson in humility, y’know?” he scolded. “Maybe I can teach you some fuckin’ manners while I’m at it…”

…And that’s how you’d ended up in this predicament, your clit throbbing against a vibrator, forbidden to remove it or touch yourself.

Steve’s eyes narrowed at the road ahead as he turned his BMW onto your street. The apartment complex you lived in looked hazy as you stared up at it, your eyes glossy and brain foggy with the need to come. Steve parked the car and slammed his door shut, walking around the back to let you out. He opened your door and frowned at the mess you’d made all over the seat.

“Jesus, kitten,” Steve sighed, shaking his head. “You’re fuckin’ soaked…” He slid a finger between you and the seat (you shivered as his fingertip grazed your pussy) and brought the slippery liquid to his lips. He sucked your juices off his finger, with a quiet hum of approval. Steve unbuckled your seatbelt and finally, mercifully, removed the vibrator. You moaned gratefully, immediately going to touch yourself. Steve scolded you, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. “The hell is wrong with you?” he whispered. “You tryna get yourself off in front of the whole neighborhood?”

You gazed up at Steve with teary eyes. “It hurts so bad,” you quietly sobbed. “I need to-I have to come.”

Steve pulled you into his chest, shushing you tenderly, rubbing his hand along your back. “Come on kitten,” he murmured. “Let’s get you inside, and I’ll kiss it all better, okay?”

You nodded meekly, wiping your eyes dry as you walked with Steve to the building entrance.

As soon as you entered your apartment, Steve knelt in front of you and slid his hands up under your skirt. He tugged your panties down and let them lay around your ankles, spreading your thighs with his face as he nuzzled between them. Your legs trembled; you held onto Steve’s shoulders to brace yourself. His tongue found your clit immediately, flickering against it like a flame.

You were burning up, consumed by the heat of Steve’s mouth, his lips sucking bruises into your most sensitive skin. He groped your ass in his big, strong hands, spreading you open even further as his tongue lapped at your slippery cunt. You were coming within seconds, drooling over Steve’s back as he sucked your clit, your thighs locking his head in place between them. He groaned into your sopping heat, licking every fold and curve of your sex, leaving no part of your pussy untouched.

Steve rose to his feet and carried you to a nearby table, flattening your back against it and mounting you. He pinned your body under his, locking your wrists over your head with his hands. Steve ground his hips into yours, rubbing his clothed erection between your thighs. He cursed into your shoulder as he came, his cock pulsing against your pussy, filling the crotch of his pants with semen.

Steve panted against your breasts, a satisfied grin on his face. After a minute or so, he lifted his head to look at you. He was so handsome, it nearly took your breath away, his dark eyes glossy with sex, sweat dotting his forehead. His voice was husky, a seductive arrogance in his tone. “Apology accepted,” Steve said. And part of you couldn’t wait to piss him off again…

[shawtyfromdirtydocks]

Fat dick soap fucking thee shit outta black ! Fem! Reader and being absolutely relentless about it. I’m talking teasing, hair pulling, degrading (mix with some praises but mostly degrading) spitting, finger suckling, titty sucking, clit licking, and reader can’t help but have her brain melt out her ears and just be completely fucked dumb<333

John "Soap" MacTavish

CW: Degrading, little praise, p in v, unprotected sex, edging, masochist! Reader, lightly proofread idk

Wait do you mind if I add comical! Soap into the mix? Because he fits perfectly here 🤭

20+ DNI 20+ DNI 20+ DNI 20+ DNI 20+

Soap is the kind of guy to laugh you out ya panties and then keep you laughing while he fold you into a pretzel. Or laugh at you because you're too fucked out to make a sound that isn't a cry or moan

Walk wit me right quick.

He'd have you on your knees before anything. Jerking himself off over your face, which is wet with tears. How could he not? You just look so pretty below him.

When you start showing signs of restlessness (rubbing your thighs together or whining) he'd make you stick out your tongue for him to spit on before ruthlessly fucking your throat on his dick. Grabbing a handful of your curls, stretching your throat with his girth.

Oh and how he'd laugh at you if you gagged. "Wha'? Y'can't take it?". It would only encourage him to be more rough. Holding your head still so he could thoroughly enjoy the warmth and wetness of your esophagus. Ignoring the warning signs your gag reflex kept throwing at him.

His teasing would show no end either. He had to remind you that you were his to enjoy, not the other way around. And he knew you loved it.

It was evident in the way your eyes rolled back when he forced you to take him all the way down your throat. The way you obeyed immediately when he instructed you to lick his balls. And most definitely in the way you made direct eye contact with him.

It all eventually leads up to him pulling out of the depths of your mouth just before he shot his seed directly into your digestive system. Slapping your face with his dick. "Is tha' a smile I see? Are ya enjoyin this or are ya happy cause ya think it's over?"

Oh and he'd manhandle you to further drive home the point that you were nothing more than a sex doll in that situation.

Gripping your curls to throw you over the edge of the bed. Lifting you by the hips then shoving his middle and ring finger into your mouth to pull you up against his chest. His grip on your jaw forced it open too so you drooled down his forearm and all over your tits.

Johnny loves doggy. Especially after a long day. "God you're fucking disgusting. You look like a bitch in heat." Growling the most ego crushing things in your ear while he pounded you from the back. "Don't run. I didn't say I was fucking done with you did I??" He loved the way you tightened around him when he insulted you, crying in shame. It turned him on knowing that he had complete control over you.

He couldn't even think about trying to cum without looking at your pretty face though, covered in his spit and previous loads he'd busted. So when he got close again, he'd switch positions one last time and make you ride his cock.

"look at you, you love being a cumslut." He was laughing in your face and it would make you cry if you didn't enjoy it so much. And don't even think about closing your eyes or looking away from him cause you could expect him to slap you, spit on you, or bite your nipples.

"Sloppy fuckin' bitch." Your head falling back, tears streaming down your face because you're just so overstimulated. How could you not be? He's been dragging you all over the house and using your holes for over an hour. "You can't even fuckin' think can you? That pretty little head is fuckin empty. Just how it should be."

And when you were able to finally speak? He'd make you say things you wouldn't even tell your best friend about.

"You love bein treated like an object don't you? Say it." Or he'd spit in your mouth and make you say thank you. Johnny might even put you in a full nelson in front of a mirror to make you watch him abuse your poor little pussy. Forcing you to tell him how much you loved it and pounding you harder when you didn't say it loud enough.

But of course he'd remind you how much he loved you after he was done with you. Holding you tight and whispering to you how good you took him. "My pretty girl."

He'd lay you on your back, kissing over your collar bone or take a nipple into his mouth with a hand between between your thighs rubbing your swollen clit.

You were just too beautiful like this. Completely unable to speak or move. So as a thank you, he'd get you all comfy with a pillow under your head and the curve of your back.

Carefully spreading your thighs to be mindful of how sore your legs must be at this point. Kissing over your mons pubis and eventually the ultra sensitive nub that you needed him to pay attention to the most.

He ate you out slowly, moaning into your stickiness whenever you whimpered. He gave you exactly what you wanted too. Sucking on your clit lightly. Letting you squeeze his hands when the stimulation became too much for your body.

When you started rolling your pussy against his tongue he let you use his mouth. He even moaned with you when you came on his tongue. Savoring the taste of your orgasm on his taste buds.

"tha's it my love, tha's it."

[becca-e-barnes]

Thinking so much about clingy, mutually possessive, filthy sex and how much I just need that rn

The kind of sex where you and Bucky just can't feel close enough to each other. You physically can't get any closer than you are, his thick cock buried so deep inside you but you still need more of him. He has nothing left to give you and you're glad because if he was any longer, you wouldn't be able to take the rest.

You're panting against his neck, whining out your frustration each time he slides home into your warm, wet body. His own groans are low, rumbling from his throat and hanging in the humid air of the bedroom you share.

"You know I can't fucking resist you. I can't." Bucky moans, grasping one of your wrists, guiding it between your bodies, encouraging you to play with yourself while he fucks you.

"I can't say no to you. Fuck, I'm yours." You hardly hear what he's saying over the obscene, wet sounds of your body accommodating his.

Your fingertips rub against your slick clit and the sensation is almost too much. "You're mine." You whine against his neck, using your free hand to claw at his back, driving him impossibly closer to you.

There's something reassuring about the feeling of his skin on yours. It's hot and sweaty but it's so comforting being naked with him, enjoying the pleasure of each others' bodies. You don't feel vulnerable communicating your pleasure to him; you feel understood.

"I am." He groans, eyes fluttering shut, lost in the way your body clings to him. "All yours. And you're mine, aren't you? My good girl."

It's a relentless build up, each stroke taking you a little further than the last and at some point, the band just has to snap.

"I am." You whine, barely able to manage any more words than that.

"You feel like Heaven. You were made for me. This warm, tight little pussy fits me perfectly." His body still isn't close enough to you, not that there's any way you could physically feel more of him.

"You take me so well, you know that? You take every drop of cum and you still beg me for more. Fuckin' love it." Just the very mention of Bucky pumping his release into you makes your walls flutter, dreaming of the feeling of his thick load shooting into you.

"I can't last like this." You hear him mutter and you're almost glad because you're not far off either. "Can't last when I can see that pretty face." His eyes meet yours and he pulls you in for a kiss that stifles your moans for a few seconds.

"Bucky, please." You groan when he pulls back, rubbing yourself just a little too quickly now that you've gotten desperate.

"Go on sweetheart, let me feel you cum for me." It only takes a few more strokes for your high to take over, pleasure rippling through you in a way that leaves your legs shaking.

You almost miss the start of Bucky's release, given how distracted you are by your own but the unmistakable throbbing of him inside you tells you he's reached his own peak if his moans didn't give it away.

[secretsuitcasefanskeleton]

My neighbor Sangwoo

Sangwoo x Reader

Warnings: Sangwoo is a warning himself, but no smut if that's what you're worried about! Though I can make one with smut! MINORS DNI

"Don't you think us being seen together is gonna cause problems?"

"What? You really think I care about that?" Sangwoo said, quirking a smug eyebrow. Hands held in big pockets while towering over you. Closer than you were comfortable with, as your back was pressed against his driver side door.

You didn't know how you found yourself in this position. One minute, you were leaving your small two bedroom house for the bus stop, with your neighbor Sangwoo following you down the road with his grey car, tailing slowly right next to you. Pestering to give you a ride to your shared campus, like some creep.

And the next, you were here. Backed onto the side of his car door, on said campus grounds.

You smacked your teeth while looking away, trying to hide your face in the confines of your hoodie.

"C'mon. I thought you were supposed to be this cool, cold-blooded chick who'd never care what people think?"

You shoved your hands in your pockets, still looking away from his cocky smirk. Of course, you cared what people think. Especially with your livelihood involved.

"It's not about that. I can walk myself to class, you know." You said, slightly irritated. He promised to leave you alone after the ride, and yet here he was pestering you for more. Attention? Reaction? Who knew? It was funny to you, really. He was the one who was kind enough to drive you with him to your classes, and yet he's offered you a lot of things as if you had done him the favors.

Him walking you to class was the last straw, though. The one thing you could do without were rumors, and the people of Korea loved to talk.

Surely, he couldn't be this oblivious.

"You don't want to be seen with me." You stated calmly. Warm breath flowing out into the cold air.

"Look at us. We're two completely different people. I'll just make you look bad."

It wasn't a lie. You were both total opposites, and you were far from what Sangwoo would consider his type. Why was he so persistent in keeping up with you? He couldn't say. He didn't know if he found you worthy of a kill yet either, and he definitely wasn't trying to have a quick fuck.

So why?

"Do yourself a favor, quit hanging on my arm."

Your voice cut into his internal thoughts.

What?

He was starting to get pissed. Who did you think you were? Giving him orders. Especially like that.

Sangwoo did what he wanted when he wanted no matter how unconventional, whether people knew about it or not.

He waited for you to add on, though. Smirk decreasing ever so slowly, as your words processed in his mind. Dark and gloomy eyes following your every movement.

"At least think about me. You're the most wanted and respected guy on this campus. The girls will be giving me a hard time, while the guys are gonna assume the worst, I can only imagine what would happen to you viewed in the same light."

You smiled while looking up at him, hands still in pockets.

"No offense, but I can never seem to catch a break with the people of Korea." You said jokingly. Your Korean coming out perfectly with a slight accent.

How ironic.

You were a foreign loser with no breathtaking attributes. You were the same as everyone else, and yet you were no one. Possibly worse. Even he knew it.

You began to walk off without another word, hands balled up to fists in your pockets as you felt your throat start to burn and vision blur with unwanted liquid.

Fuckin' grief. Not now. Not in front of him. You didn't know why you were getting so worked up anyway. It's not like you liked him. Not even in the slightest.

Must have been the weather.

Somewhere in between, rough and gentle, were you immediately pulled back by your arm, hands still in pockets as you were gently slammed back into the car door. Sangwoo's hand still gripping the top of your arm. Thankfully, the threat of tears had stopped by then.

"Your dress attire may be hot garbage, along with your pessimistic attitude--but to me, I've never met anyone more worth it."

Is what he wanted to say. Is what he could have said.

Sangwoo has never ever been cowardly when it came to spewing out false compliments. Especially towards women.

But you were different, and these compliments were not false.

You did all things opposite from the women he would take home and dissect.

You were considerate, but not so much where you'd disregard yourself. You were funny without even trying. You found no reason in speaking if there was nothing to speak on, enjoying the slience any chance you got. Someone he related to, and to top it all off,

You were the only girl on this dammed campus that didn't want him. Romantically or platoniclly.

And for some reason, some odd, specific reason, he loved it.

He didn't want to admit it, but you were the most interestingly beautiful living thing he's ever wanted to be around and not kill.

Going out of his way, any chance he got to be near you to annoy you. To make you laugh. To piss you off, but not so much to where he'd hurt your feelings.

That's how he knew he was truly wiped for your attention. Sangwoo was the king of hurt. Feelings. Emotional. physical. Mental. It's what he did. But when it came to you, he couldn't find one violent bone in his body. As cliche as it sounds, you take those bad thoughts away.

It was in the movies, the romance novels, the TV shows. Sangwoo witnessed it all. There is always that special someone for everyone who took it all away. Made it better, but never did he believe it. He laughed at the idea. Someone for everyone? His ass.

He never thought meeting someone who did that for him would be possible.

To him, you were like a breath of fresh air in a sea--no, swamp of men and women who all had the same stench.

He couldn't say that these feelings he harbored were romantic, but he wouldn't mind it. Then again, how would he know? He's never had a crush or a true friend.

Would it hurt if you were both, though?

You're staring up at Sangwoo surprisingly. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and eyes blown wide as his right-handed grip on your upper right arm never loosened.

Whatever he was thinking about had him lost in thought as his eyes never broke away from yours. Slight blush on his face, but you chopped it up to the cold weather.

You began to speak, ready to tell him to let you go, but he beat you to it.

"Man, you're a pain in my ass. Quit saying retarded stuff, and let's get to our classes."

He said tiresomely. Yanking your arm slightly forward while he walked. Pulling you close to his side, as he threw his arm around your shoulders after pushing down the hoodie that obscured your face, much to your refusal.

Now, the whole world could see who he was walking with, and anyone who had anything to say could choose to speak then and forever hold their busted jaw in pieces.

Thanks for the read! First time posting fanfic on Tumblr!

[jaebeomsbitch]

Victorian Wh*re (R.R)

Summary: Roman suggests maybe you can watch each other touch yourselves. Fem reader!

WARNINGS: SMUT MINORS DNI, mutual masturbation, swearing,

A/N: We're bringing back the dildo thing in the next fic! God I just know it would drive him crazy but also he'd feel so insanely bad about himself after. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

“You diddle yourself, I diddle myself come on it’ll be a fuckin’ disgusting fuck fest” Roman says. He’s always the one to initiate any intimate moments between you two because you knew how uncomfortable he was with it all. It’s like his body wants it, craves it but his mind immediately snaps him out of it when things get too far. You hadn’t gotten past phone sex which was even surprising to you. You didn’t know much about Roman’s sexual issues because he isn’t the most emotionally available person.

“Can you even…” you don’t finish the sentence. Your mind immediately travels to the image. The way his mouth hangs open, his hips twitching, that vein on his forehead popping out as he pants for breath. You can always admit that your…boyfriend? Whatever he was, was attractive. And although he has a vulgar personality you can’t help but look at the way his lips move or the way he perfectly quirks his mouth into a smirk. Meeting Roman made you realize you probably had odontophilia, your eyes always trained on his mouth. Something that Roman has picked up on but he’s yet to use as ammunition. Something about the way he has sharp canine teeth turns you on. Maybe it’s some sort of primal urge in you, like in caveman days he’d probably be really good at eating raw meat. 

“Oh fuck off! Yes I can jerk off, I jerk off so much I’m surprised I still have skin,” he says. You can’t help but laugh at his admission. 

“God you sound like a teenage boy,” you shake your head. His hazel eyes narrow at your little chuckle. 

“You want me to prove it to you?” He asks, eyebrow quirked, lips pressed into a slight grin. You look at him for a second.

“Oh you’re serious. Can- can you even get it up?” The words leave your mouth before you can think. As much as you always love your back and forth with Roman you never liked poking fun at his sexual trauma.

“Well…just— just try it with me and you’ll see,” he says, that grin a little wider but his eyes hold a certain vulnerability. 

You sigh, closing your eyes for a second as you press your head into the pillow. Are you really gonna do this? It’d be better than that time he tried to have sex with you and ended up dry humping your thigh for two seconds before just giving up and turning away. He didn’t let you comfort him either which only made it worse. 

A part of you was scared of crossing this line with Roman, you didn’t want to scare him off and create only more bad sexual experiences for him. But, you did feel pent up, would you mind if he just watched you if he couldn’t touch himself? 

“Ugh, fine,” you finally say, deciding to get out of your head. If he felt comfortable enough to do this with you then you’d let him. You didn’t want to deny him that part of himself, especially when you know how much he struggles with intimacy. 

“Throw me some pillows,” you say. Making a pile of them at the foot of the bed. You situate yourself so you’re half sitting half lying down. You have a clear view of him as you lay diagonal from him. He sits leaning against the headboard, you can see the way he gulps down his saliva. Was he expecting you to deny him?

“We can do this another time,” you say, giving him an out to say no. 

“What are you scared?” He taunts but his voice sounds a little broken. 

“I’m serious Rome, if you’re not ready you’re not ready,” you say, actually addressing the problem. 

“Oh fuck off, you got a fuck up vag or something? Oh god it’s fucked up isn’t it? Like a fucking acid explosion down there?” He says. 

You laugh, “on the contrary, all my partners have said I have a ‘pretty pussy’” you say laughing. It wasn’t true but you weren’t ashamed of your vulva, why should you be? Everyone’s look different. 

“Well I’ve gotten quite a few people thirsting over my cock. Said they wanted to make a mold of it or something. Oh those sick fucks probably would make a dildo and fuck themself with it,” he says. 

“Wait, why is that kind of a good idea?” You say. 

“What?” His attention snaps back to you. 

“Well if you can’t fuck me, then give me a replica of your cock. Then I’d at least know what it feels like,” you grin up at him. He’d probably love it, seeing you moan at the feeling of his rubber cock in you. 

“See, I knew you wanted to fuck me,” he says.

“Did I ever deny it?” You bite back. He looks at you for a second almost shocked before he snaps out of it. 

“Well it’ll happen one day,” he says a little sadly. 

“Hmm, one day,” you nod. 

“Okay it’s time to jerk off~” He sing songs, clapping his hands. 

“You want me to touch myself dry? You gotta give me some material to work with,” you grumble. 

“I mean just look at me,” he flexes his muscles. 

“Okay well you’re fully clothed and I don’t think you’re necessarily up for removing them,” you say. 

“You need me to expose an ankle or something. ‘Ooh I’m a baaad Victorian girl’” he says in a faux sexy voice, putting a finger on his lip and pretending to act coy, his leg stretched out dramatically to show off his right ankle.

“Oh yeah, that ankle has got me turned on beyond belief,” You laugh.

“No seriously, I’m gonna need to watch a video or something. I’m not exactly revved up right now,” you ignore the way he wiggles his ankle at you. 

“Okay fucking Toyota calm down,” he says. 

“Well-- maybe you start? It’ll give me some inspiration… hopefully,” you smirk. 

“Not a problem, I’m so fuckin’ hard right now. Ugh your ankle and knees are out? You whore,” his eyes run over the expanse of your legs. You can’t help but flex your feet in response. 

“Oh you’re hard at that? Well I can do so much better. Shit, I think if I flashed you, you’d fuckin cum in your pants,” you laugh.

“That’s a challenge I’m willing to bet on. I’d like to see you try,” he says, eyes half lidded. His hand sliding towards the bulge in his sleep pants. 

“Yeah?” You breathe. Oh this was getting real. He silently nods, the palm of his hand rubbing at the fabric. He tips his head back to lean against the headboard, his eyes trained on your body. They flicker towards different parts quickly like he’s unsure where to look. 

“Just fuck— take ‘em out,” he groans, his voice a little too desperate for his liking. 

“You’re a sick fucking pervert,” you say but the demand certainly sounds intriguing. He’s touching himself as you’re fully clothed, how would he react if he saw something… new? He shudders at your words but you don’t seem to realize it. Maybe it’s just because he hasn’t jerked off in a long time or something. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m a sick fuck,” he replies, trying to make it sound like a joke but there’s something there. A new tone you don’t recognize. It’s like you start to see Roman in a different light. Maybe you didn’t see him as a sexual person before but you’re definitely seeing it now, as his hips slowly tip to meet the palm of his hand. Shit why was this kind of hot? You’re definitely wet now, as you look at him, small whines in the back of his throat threatening to spill out. He keeps his mouth shut, embarrassed that he’s already worked up.

If he wants a show you’ll give him a fucking show, you bunch up your baggy sleep shirt. Your nipples perking at the cold air.

“Ooh fuck,” he moans, eyes trained on your chest. You decide to give him a show. If this was your only time doing this you had to make it memorable. Your hands slide up your ribs to cup your breasts, your thumb brushing over the taunt nipples.

“Ooh,” your breath hitches at the sensation, watching as his hand moves faster against his cock. 

“Put it in,” you moan, eyes trained on his hand. 

“What?” He chokes.

“Put your hand in there, you can’t just rub it all day. Touch yourself for real,” you say, eyes flicking up towards his. You notice the way his canines dig into his bottom lip. Fuck… your hand absentmindedly slides into your sleep shorts, your finger slowly circling your clit as you see him put his hand in his pajama pants. The fabric straining against his moving hand. 

Maybe it’s time to try out your new theory. “Fuck, you’re disgusting Roman. Look at you” you groan, finger pressing into yourself. His eyes flick towards yours, he can tell he’s turning you on. You wish you could mean it though, the words come out all breathy as you slide your middle finger in and out. You wish you could say any of your next words with conviction but your breath hitches when you see his mouth hung agape, his eyes closing for a second before looking at you hungrily. His gaze trained on the movement of your shorts. 

Fuck! There wasn’t enough space in them to reach your sweet spot so you quickly slide the fabric down your legs. You bend your knees to give him the perfect view of your finger sliding in and out in your cunt. 

“Oh fuck” He moans, eyes almost staring holes through your flesh. 

“God, you’d fucking love to watch me fuck myself with a dildo of your cock wouldn’t you? It the only way you’d ever fuck me. You’re a fucking sicko,” You whine the last part, your fingers relentlessly hitting the squishy part inside of you. Your other hand slithers around until it finds your clit, your fingers move quickly as you see Roman is close. 

He’s practically fucking his hand, his mouth hung open, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Ooh Fuck, yeah. I’d fuckin’ love it. W-want to see your face stretch around my… F-f-fuck!” He moans. 

His head slamming backwards into the headboard with a loud thud but he’s too caught up in this. Jerking off was something but this? This was so much different. The air crackles with your attraction for one another. You’d felt attracted to Roman in your weak moments sure but now, now you felt like you just opened a can of worms. Like crossing this line is going to make you crave more of him. 

“You’re close aren’t you? One look at me touching myself and you’re cumming in your pants like a fucking virgin,” You taunt, but your words have no real bite. It doesn't matter how harshly you say it, you want this. Want to see him ruin his expensive sleep pants, watch the way his eyes roll back and how his teeth will rip his lip open. 

“F-fuck M’close,” He slurs, his eyes half-closed but he keeps them open. He wants to keep this memory burned into his brain. He never wants to forget the sounds you make and the way your legs slightly shake as you circle your clit. 

“Shiiit me too. Let me see you cum,” You say, your voice higher pitched than normal as you try and stave off your release. Your eyes flutter, threatening to close shut but you force them open. You weren’t losing this experience. It’s almost like the aurora borealis but much more rare and a lot prettier. 

“Oh f-Uck,” He whines, his hips bucking wildly against his hand. Until you see them stutter, his canines digging into his bottom lip to try and keep himself quiet, his chest heaves, stomach twitching violently at the feeling of this new release. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” He groans, his cock twitching in his hand as the spurts of cum paint the inside of his boxers. The sticky mess seeping into the fabric of his pajama pants. He finally lets his cock go, taking his hand out from the waistband. You can see the glistening of his cum coating his hand as you work yourself faster. 

“Shi-it,” you shiver, the heat in your stomach building and building. It feels like you’re an old house caught on fire, your whole body sweating, your legs starting to tremble as you maintain eye contact with Roman. 

“Let me taste it,” You grunt, in between moans. 

“W-what?” Roman says confused. His mind is still on cloud nine as he licks away the drops of blood on his lip. 

“Roman I swear to fucking God I will fucking–” You can’t think of a decent insult, your mind turning to mush as you watch him carefully but enthusiastically crawl over to you. He smears his cum on your lips, his fingers prodding at the seam of your mouth until you relent. You eagerly lick at his hand, the fire builds more, the foundation of the house collapsing as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. 

“Ooh,” He shivers, his voice lower than normal as he moves his fingers in and out of your mouth. The cadence in his voice pushes you over the edge. Your entire body tenses up for a second before everything releases. You moan around his fingers, accidentally biting down on the flesh as your eyes roll backward. Roman watches you, you almost look possessed as you whine around his fingers, your body going completely limp. 

“C-can I?” You hear Roman ask but you aren’t really listening, not that you’d expect it anyway. Roman was one to take and never to ask. You languidly nod your head, the heat of Roman’s thighs pressing into the side of your leg is the only thing keeping you grounded.

That is until you feel him remove his hand from your mouth. His saliva coated fingers wrapping around your wrist as he uses your sticky fingers to dip into your cunt like a dunkaroo and scoop your cum, your eyes widen at the intrusion and boldness of it all. He brings your fingers to his mouth, the sharpness of his canines brushing the pads of your fingers as he cleans your fingers off.

“Oh f-fuck, Rome,” You moan, your eyes barely open watching him commit this obscene act. He knew about your weakness, he noticed the way you stared at him with that far away look when he bit into his thumb. 

Your thighs still twitch in the aftershocks of your intense moment. Your fingers are long clean but the tips of his teeth press into your fingers before he lets your wrist fall. He retreats back to his corner of the bed. You lower your shirt back down over your chest and slide on your underwear leaving your shorts lost somewhere in the sheets. You sigh as you lean your head back into the mound of pillows. 

“So was it as hideous as you thought? Worse than a mangled up ball of rotting flesh?” You joke with a twinkle in your eyes as you look at him.

“Oh definitely fucking worse, I had to stop myself from gagging it was so disgusting,” He says, a small smile on his lips and something different in his eyes. You can’t pinpoint it but something has changed. 

“You know, your ankle had me a lot more aroused than I was expecting,” You laugh. 

“Yeah? I got better ankles than a fucking marathon runner. I could put those victorian whores to shame… really fuck up their business,” He says sinking into the sheets. 

“Oh yeah? How much would you charge?” You ask, staring up at the ceiling. What the fuck was your life?

“I don’t know, like five grand at the minimum. I only want the rich fucks looking at my ankles especially if I’m gonna have to look at old men jerk off” He says, dramatically shuddering in disgust. 

“...I’ve got five grand, when's your next available appointment?” You ask looking back at him. His eyes meet yours. 

“Yeah?” He asks, seeming to speak without actually speaking about it, a big grin on his face. 

“I’m good for the money,” You say, a small smile on your lips. You both lay there in silence, what you just did hanging in the air. Roman somehow feels lighter. Sure he’d still have difficult days, days where he can’t stand to look down at his body or days when you hold him while you sleep and he silently cries but he had this. He was capable of some sort of intimate relationship even if it was unconventional. 

You grab a pillow and crawl over to your side of the bed and lie down. 

“Roman?” You whisper, a little afraid of pissing him off especially after all this. 

“Hmm? Need another look at my ankles, this one’s gonna cost you double,” He says, lazily turning his head to look at you. 

“Only if you throw in a free elbow,” You smile, cuddling into your pillow. 

“That can be arranged, which one though?” He asks, placing his hands underneath his head as he mimics your position. 

Your eyes flick to his already exposed elbows, “Right, definitely the right.”

“Sure, I’ll throw it in only because you’ve been a loyal customer,” He says, hazel eyes searching through yours.

“I’ll continue to be loyal,” You try to reassure him. He doesn’t say anything, no smart quip, just an ever so slight nod as he closes his eyes. You can't help but stare at his face, at the slight stubble, the freckles painted onto the bridge of his nose.

“Stop staring or I’m gonna have to charge you by the second,” He says, his eyes still closed. 

“That’s okay, my boyfriend is a billionaire,” You whisper, scooting closer to him. 

“Boyfriend?” He whispers like the word is foreign. Your fingertips brush his hair out of his face. Everything was okay, you were both okay. He was your Victorian whore and you were all too willing to pay his hefty price. 

[player1064]

gary goes into business instead of broadcasting post-retirement. carra still goes into puditry. they don't know each other/end up as friends.

they both end up on the same season of I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here and fall in love. this is highly apparent to the entire audience.

I've not done a request fic in like two months bc I've been so zoomed in on the beville fic but I wanted to write something quick and silly and yes this request has been sitting in my inbox for more than THREE months but dont worry i did not forget about it I haven't forgotten about ANY of u.

and this really is quick and silly it is Mostly dialogue bc idk how else to convey the Vibes of im a celebrity but I had soooooo much fun with this dkjfgdfjsgkk...

---

 “I’m Gary Neville, I’m a businessman but I’m probably best known for my football career, playing 602 games for Manchester United and earning 85 caps for England.”

“What am I doing in the jungle? Mid-life crisis, I suppose.”

“I’m no stranger to public humiliation – just look at my coachin’ career! My only worry is the food – I do love a dairy milk, to be fair.”

*

“I’m Jamie Carragher, and I’m best known as a football pundit with Sky – am I allowed to say other broadcaster’s names on here? – and for winning the Champions’ league with Liverpool.”

“I’ve always said the jungle is the only reality show I’d consider doin’, so I guess it’s time to put me money where me mouth is.”

“Scared? Eh, no, I don’t think there’s many challenges I wouldn’t do. You don’t get to where I’ve got without that drive to win.”

*

Jamie walks into camp, takes one look at the group of people stood in front of him, and almost considers walking straight back out. Would that work, saying the catch-phrase outside of one of the challenges? ‘I’m a celebrity, get me away from Gary fucking Neville?’

“Jesus Christ,” Gary mutters. “Don’t you ‘ave some children to spit at or somethin’?”

“Don’t you ‘ave a football team to coach – oh no, sorry, they both fired you.”

“How the fuck are they lettin’ you take three weeks off in the middle of season? What’re people gonna do when they want to listen to two hours of Scouse gibberish?”

The rest of the campers watch on, no longer even attempting to come and introduce themselves to Jamie.

“And how’s your club gonna manage without yous, eh? What if they need someone to fire another manager?”

*

“Yeah, I uh… is it mean to say I hope one of them gets voted off soon? Don’t get me wrong, they’re both perfectly nice guys, but…”

[yelling heard from outside the hut]

“…Yeah.”

*

The first pairs challenge, shockingly, goes off without a hitch.

This is not a surprise because the challenge was particularly difficult – it’s early days, they’re still easing everyone in – but because of who the public had voted to complete it. Because the public is the public, and they’re nothing if not predictable.

“All twelve stars! I’m pretty pleased w’that, you know.”

“Typical fucking Neville, taking the credit for his partner’s hard work.”

 “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t seem to recall you crawling about in the mud to get the –”

“—I was the one doin’ all the heavy lifting!”

“Of course you were doin’ the heavy lifting, look at the fuckin’ size of you!”

“Ugh.”

Jamie storms off camera and back into camp, leaving behind a bewildered looking Gary.

“He’s a bit of a diva, in’t he?”

*

“The first few days? Erm, it’s been goin’ alright, I think. I’ve been told I’m not always the easiest person to get on with, so it’s a pleasant relief that the others seem to – I mean, obviously not all of the others, but – but he’s –”

*

“Oh, I’m loving camp. Missing the gym a bit –” for emphasis, Jamie slaps his bicep – “but the food’s not as bad as I were expectin’, and the banter is sound – we’re all great friends already –”

“—well, no, but you can’t count him. He’s so weird, ‘ave you seen him? Like a little robot, doin’ everything exactly the same every day.”

*

“Another pairs challenge…”

“I don’t get why people keep voting for us to do these trials. You’re useless at ‘em anyway, do they want to see us starve?”

“Maybe I’d be able to get more done if you didn’t always insist on bossing me around, James. Can barely hear myself think over that Scouse screech of yours, it’s a wonder me eardrums haven’t burst yet.”

“It’s a wonder nobody’s killed themselves in the boredom of having to listen to you drone on and on all day. Did I actually hear you talkin’ about the stock market the other day?”

“The stock exchange, oh my god. It’s my hotel, which you’d know if you took part in any conversation that’s not about you.”

*

“I can’t believe they let you have that.”

Jamie looks with pride down at the football he’d chosen as his luxury item, then drops it and kicks it towards Gary’s head. It’s wide by about a metre.

“Oi! If you were a half decent footballer that could’ve actually hurt me, you twat.”

“’least mine can benefit everyone in camp, what even is yours?”

“Fidget toy, innit. My niece got me into them, gives me something to do with my hands.”

“You’re a strange little man, you know that right?”

Gary, who’s still positioned closest to the football, picks it up and lobs it into the trees surrounding camp.

*

“Come have a kickabout with me?”

Gary looks around but there’s nobody else sat nearby. “Me?”

“No, Cristiano Ronaldo. Of course you, who else would I be askin’?”

“Literally anyone else here?”

“It’s not as fun when you’re better than everyone else –”

“—ah, so you admit I’m a better footballer than you!”

“That’s not what I said!”

*

“What are you actually doin’ in here? ‘cause no offence, Gary, but you don’t really seem the reality show type.”

“Dunno. Was having a rough week when the email came through, thought it might be nice to get away from everythin’ for a bit.”

“’and you, Jameh?’” Jamie says in a squeaky parody of a Manc accent. “Oh, thanks fer askin’, Gaz. I was worried I was goin’ soft, now that I’ve been retired for so long. Wanted to prove to myself I can still be a winner.”

“Still? When were you ever a winner before?”

“I’ve won a Champions’ League, I’ll have you know!”

“I’ve won two!”

“Have you fuck.”

*

“Who’s your letter from, then? Missus?”

“No, my brother,” Gary says absently, then he looks up from his letter with a frown. “I don’t have a missus, what’re you on about?”

“Don’t you? I could’ve sworn, in Baden Baden with the WAGs –”

“You’re basing your knowledge of my relationship status on a tournament we played in more than fifteen years ago?”

“You realise you’re literally wearing a wedding ring.”

“And you’re not. Any other observations you’d like to make? Sky is blue, maybe?”

“Normally people wear wedding rings to show they’re married.”

“Maybe some people wear them to avoid annoying questions. Anyway, Philip says that I’m coming across very well so far and that ITV has received hundreds of complaints from people who can’t understand your accent.”

“He did not fucking write that, give it here –”

*

“Am I getting along better with Jamie? I dunno, I never had a problem with him to be fair, it’s him that’s always –”

*

“Friends? With Gary? Behave. Have we managed to go a single day so far without him shoutin’ at me for somethin’ I did, or somethin’ I didn’t do right, or for – for breathing in the wrong direction. Christ, I’ve never met anyone this fussy. He’s too easy to wind up.”

*

“He must be doin’ it on purpose, surely nobody is that thick – I mean, is it so hard to stack a couple of dishes when you’ve finished washing them?”

“Well, no, yeah, he did stack them, but did you see – they were all out of order, there’s no stability – they’re certain to all fall and break in the night thanks to him.”

*

All the effort that goes into the Dingo Dollars task and all the camp has to show for it is a single square of chocolate each. Gary nibbles carefully at his, trying to preserve it for as long as possible.

Jamie gets up and goes to sit beside him.

“Here.”

“Wha?”

“Here, I don’t like sweets.”

“You don’t – what kind of a psychopath don’t like sweets?”

“Will you just take the bloody chocolate before I change my mind.”

*

“You’re limping. Why are you limping?”

“Done my ankle in the last trial.”

“Trust you to get injured doin’ a trial. What’d you do, you slip or somethin’?”

“Why don’t you ask your mate, he’s the expert on slipping.”

“Ha ha. But really, Gary – you alright?”

“I’m fine, Carra, ‘s not even strained. Just a bit achy. Twenty years as a professional athlete will do that to you.”

“Give it here.”

“You what?”

“Give it here, I do an okay massage. Maybe that’ll stop yer whining.”

“I literally didn’t say a word until you brought it up.”

*

“I don’t know, he’s – ugh, he’s…”

“He’s not what I expected. I dunno. He’s just not what I expected.”

*

“D’you know how many times me and Gary played a full ninety together with England? One. We only ever played one full match on the same side, and it was shite.”

“It always felt like there was only room for one of us, so I just – I fucking hated him. ‘cause it wasn’t me the managers were picking, was it?”

*

“Carra?” Gary whispers

“What.”

“Carra, I can’t sleep.”

“Don’t give a fuck.”

“Jamie.”

Jamie reluctantly sits up in his camp bed, squints at Gary in the dark. “What.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“You already said that.”

“I want to go for a walk, clear my head.”

“Good for you.” Jamie lies back down and pulls his sleeping bag over his face.

“Jamie.”

“I swear to God, Gaz…”

“Yer not gonna make me go out there alone, are ya? It’s the middle of the night.”

“What are you, twelve? Fine, just give me a minute to find my shoes.”

*

“It’s very dark, isn’t it?”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

They hadn’t ended up walking very far, just to the log benches in the next clearing over before agreeing the risk of tripping over tree roots was too high and sitting down to just talk instead.

“My internal clock’s all thrown off, we’ve been here nearly two weeks and I still can’t get the hang of it. At home to be fair I’m normally in bed by ten, half ten.”

“I remember, from England. You and Phil were such geeks, weren’t you?”

“Most capped brothers in England, thank you very much.”

“D’you miss him?”

“Nah. Don’t get to see ‘im much anyway, to be fair. He’s off in America, Trace is out here, they’re both just – getting on with it, aren’t they? I prob’ly miss my house more’n anything else.”

“Your house… not your friends? Not football?”

“I like my house! It’s got everythin’ just the way I like it.”

“Alright, alright. Fine, you can miss your house.”

“Wha’d’you miss? Your kids? The missus?”

“I dunno really… kids are both all grown up now, missus went back to being a ms a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

“Is what it is. Anyway, I miss football even if you don’t, honest to God, what kind of a footballer are ya? I wish someone would slip me this week’s standings, feel like I’m going insane tryin’ to imagine all the results.”

“Should’ve said something sooner, twat. I can tell you how the league’s going.”

“You can?”

“Yes. Manchester United are on a – how many games’ve we missed now? – they’re on a three game winning streak and have shot to the top of the league.”

“Oh yeah? What about Liverpool?”

Gary tuts and shakes his head. “Relegation zone, I’m afraid.”

“We were top of the table when I came in ‘ere!”

“Well, you know what they say – anything can happen in football, can’t it?”

“You’re right, what’s that… I’m getting reports from Old Trafford that Salah’s just scored a hat-trick, Stretford end as well –”

“You twat! As if your Liverpool could win away against United, you’re dreaming!”

*

“Erm, yeah… it’s good to be going home, ‘course it is. Glad I wasn’t the first voted out, hah, I actually think I’ve done alright in ‘ere.”

“Yeah, no, it’s been a brilliant experience to be fair. I never thought I’d make such good friends – yeah, even him. I know, I’m as surprised as you are! Anyway, I’m wishin’ them all the very best of luck in the semi-finals.”

 *

“I mean, I know fourth place isn’t bad, but I do think I deserved to get to the finals. I’ve worked harder than anyone else here, so –”

“Well yeah, ‘course, it’s up to the public, so – if it’s my time then it’s my time.”

“What’ll I be doin’ when I get to the hotel? Dunno. Check my messages first, probably!”

“What, Gary? I saw ‘im yesterday, it’s not like I’m missin’ him already! Might get ‘im to buy me a pint, though, least he could do after I had to put up with him for three weeks.”

[raccoonfallsharder]

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip. part one. prepare for departure.

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip masterlist next part | main masterlist

angst, comfort, friendship, & fluff for @hibatasblog rocket & wanda | part 1/7 | word count: 1371.

rocket gets a very-important mission from danvers and needs a partner to go with him. enter the witch.

It is a well-documented fact (I know you know) that in the comic books, many of the marvel ladies have a thing for Rocket Raccoon. How could they not? Eyes like red beryls and pyropes, teeth and wit both so sharp they can kill long before the perfectly-aimed gravity-blast. Intuition off the charts, not to mention the things they've heard he can do with that tail...

Alas, this is not the comics. This is the MCU, some time between 2018 and 2023.

And while everything else remains more or less the same, Wanda Maximoff was not turned into ash.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” Rocket says, rolling his eyes.

Wanda isn’t sure what to call him. He looks like a raccoon, but insists that he isn’t one. Maybe he’s an alien. Maybe he’s something else. Either way, he’s rolling his eyes at Natasha, so hard that his whole head rolls with them.

“Look, I got a very important mission from Danvers, and Nebs is busy right now, working with Kraglin to make Knowhere a more hospitablistic place for Snap refugees. D’you wanna fuck over a bunch of Snap refugees, Nat?”

He crosses his arms and raises a brow up at the new leader-apparent of the Avengers. If Wanda hadn’t felt so — nothing at all, actually — she might have let a smirk curl the corner of her mouth. He’s kind of a brat, and he knows how to get under peoples’ skin. When she’d been a child, she would have found that entertaining. Endearing. She supposes she’d used to have a soft spot for scrappy survivors. Then she’d had to stop having a soft spot for anything but her brother.

Then —

“Goddammit, Rocket. Go to Washington, then. I don’t care. But we still need the Benatar.”

His challenging look turns into a glower. “Fuck off, Nat. What am I supposed to do, then? Drive your frickin’ car?”

Natasha flaps a hand at him distractedly from behind her desk. “Yes, that’s fine, take the car—”

The look he gives her is withering. “I can’t reach the fuckin’ pedals, Nat. So unless you’re giving me permission to take the whole inefficient machine apart an’ put it back together to suit my needs, you’re gonna have to—”

“I can’t spare anyone, Rocket,” the Russian snaps.

“And I can’t be alone right now,” he snaps right back. Wanda’s eyes flick back and forth between them. 

Natasha grits her teeth. “You said this was a mission from Carol?”

“Yes,” he hisses, tapping one booted foot impatiently. 

She closes her eyes and sighs heavily, leaning back in her chair and pressing her fingers into her temples. “Fine,” she says at last, drawing the word out — petulantly, Wanda thinks from a great distance. “Find someone who’s willing to go with you and I’ll tell you if I can spare them.”

Rocket doesn’t hesitate. Without moving anything but his arm, he’s brandishing a single dark claw in Wanda’s direction.

“I’ll take the witch.”

Five years earlier — in the first days after the Snap, before they’d left all their hope on 0259-S with Thanos’ headless body — everyone else had belonged to somebody. Cap and Nat had each other, and Nat had Banner and the arrow-guy. Rhodey had the rich guy who thought he was a genius, and the rich guy had that other redhead. Thor had maybe lost the most, but he had Banner too, and his buddies from Sakaar. The Dora Milaje had their whole sisterhood. Only Danvers might have been on her own — but as far as Rocket had been able to tell, Captain Marvel hadn’t seemed to have a lotta close ties she was mourning.

But Rocket — Rocket had nobody. 

Again.

Nobody except Gamora’s sister, whose name he’d kept forgetting.

Of course, there was the witch. 

Disproportionate number of redheads on this planet, he remembers thinking bemusedly.

He hadn’t been able to remember her name for a while either, but unlike everyone else on Terra, she’d seemed almost as alone as he was. And he hadn’t been able to help but watch her, his eyes slanting sideways to stare at her as she’d sat by herself across the room, hands anchored around upper arms. He couldn't make out the color of her eyes — they’d seemed impossibly dark, with rage or grief or something else, something haunted.  

Except for when they’d smouldered like furious banked fires. 

She’d never said a frickin’ word, either: face blank and beautiful as a statue’s. Her silence had felt more surreal than any other stupid thing he’d encountered in space, which he supposed was probably just because he’s spent the last four years with a family of weirdos who’d never seemed able to shut the fuck up. 

Still. He’d tilted his head when the other avengers had walked past her — watched as they’d seemed almost to forget she was even there. They’d barely talked to her, and once, when they’d been ordering lunch, they’d missed her entirely.

Uh — you didn’t ask the witch what she wants, Rocket had said to Nat awkwardly, and the assassin had blinked and her eyes had hunted the whole room before they’d finally focused on the other woman — like she hadn’t even known where her fellow-Avenger was. 

No. The witch had been an outcast. And Rocket has always known something about outcasts. His whole frickin’ family — both, some small part of his brain had tried to speak up before he could smother it; both families were made of the unwanted — his whole frickin’ family had been outcasts and misfits. It had made some part of Rocket’s heart suddenly stretch in his chest. It had reached with grasping fingers, trying to hang onto something he’d already known he’d lost.

Family.

The next day, Rocket had cleared his throat and told Gamora’s sister that he was gonna go starside to touch base with Kraglin on the Third Quadrant — to see if he still exists, he hadn’t said, but he’d been pretty sure the cyborg had picked it up. 

“You wanna come, Blue?” he’d asked — wincing when his nonchalance had been too thin to be believable. But the Luphomoid had inclined her head, eyes dark and steady. When that had been squared away — surprisingly a hell of a lot easier than he’d thought — he’d  shuffled to his feet, and headed to the bench outside the compound, where the witch had been sitting since sunrise.

He’d stood in her line of vision and stared at the sky too, shifting his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, tail trying to tuck itself underneath him. It had probably been a full twenty minutes before he’d felt her eyes on him.

“I. Uh. I heard you lost your robot-boyfriend.” The words had been as clumsy as an orloni drunk on fermented Asgardian figs, but he’d been trying.

The witch’s eyes had flared, crimson-bright. “Robot?” she’d repeated dangerously.

Rocket’s ears had flicked back and he’d taken a step away, into the grass: hands extended, palms out.

“Hey, m’not trying to be a dick,” he’d protested. “I think I might be part-robot myself.” He’d stabbed a thumb over his shoulder toward the Benatar, where he could feel  his new blue companion staring holes in his back. “Gamora’s sister’s almost all-robot, too.” 

He could also feel the sister in question rolling her eyes. 

“M’just saying,” he’d muttered at both of them, hunching his shoulders and half-turning to kick a patch of grass. “Some of us are solo now.” He’d gestured at the cyborg again. “Might be good to stick together.” 

“I was used to being solo,” Nebs had pointed out, and Rocket had winced. “You’re the one who got attached.”

His ears had flattened. “Whatever,” he’d growled. “Just thought — whatever.” He’d spun again, kicking more grass, and muttered bitterly under his breath. “So much for trying to be the captain. So much for trying to look out for the damn strays.”

“You’re the stray,” Nebula had replied with a mutinous jut of her chin — and how the fuck had she heard him? That wasn’t standard Luphomoid hearing range. 

Rocket had cursed whatever aural implants Thanos had given her. 

Then the witch had made a strange sound behind him — a little huff of breath.  A disbelieving, agonized little shred of laughter.

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip masterlist next part | main masterlist

During a watch party for Avengers: Endgame on Twitter, Markus revealed the idea to team Wanda with the Guardian of the Galaxy captain actually made it into several versions of the film's script. "We had whole drafts with Wanda on a road trip with Rocket," Markus wrote, "but after the Vision plot in Infinity War, nothing we came up with was anything but wheel spinning for her character." CBR

[forestshadow-wolf]

What if Soap and ghost were on a mission that turned south. Not because of the unpredicted gun fight. Or because the target tried to run.

Cw: Main Character Death

No they were almost always prepared for those kinds of complications. Almost expected them. It was very rare that things went to perfectly to plan, and it was almost disappointing when it didn't happen.

What they weren't prepared for was a botched opportunity to aquire some new intel.

It wasn't that they couldn't download the intel. They both always had a flash drive on them for just in case scenarios, like this one. It wasn't even that the intel was fucked... well, kinda...

They'd agreed that soap would grab the intel, ghost would start taking the target back to the exfil location, and wait for soap there. Easy enough, right?

He shucked the protection of his gloves, in favor of the dexterity he needed for the touch screen. Turns out grabbing intel was not so easy if said intel is bugged to detonate a bomb underneath the warehouse as soon as the download starts... there's a distinct *CLICK* and soap has half a second to think 'well I'm fucked'

And then he's opening his eyes to dust and debris bathed in the orange light of fire. There's something that digs into his back, right between his shoulder blades. His head rings. Or maybe that's his radio.

One hand paws at his radio, as he uses his other hand to push himself up. Both attempts in vain. His radio toned in his ear, and while he did manage to get standing it for only for about half a second before he collapsed. He released the button on his radio. Still it crackled unintelligibly.

Thank god he decided to look into electrical wiring for setting up a new model of charges because after a minute and a lot of fiddling, his radio garbled something half understandable.

"-NNY! HOW COPY? JOHNNY! HOW! COPY!"

"Ah'm alive. Warehouse blew."

"I know. You injured?"

"Aye, can't hold m'legs under me. How'd you get the target to confess to the bomb?" It felt like his head was swimming.

"I didn't. It was the giant bloody mushroom cloud. Don't. Move. I'm comin' for ya."

Oh. Yeah, that made more sense, huh.

"Aye, I'll wait fer ya, L.T."

Ghost asked him questions the whole while, keeping him awake. Soap questioned him back, ever the opportunist, to find out more about the man.

"Ghost." He says abruptly cutting off whatever ghost had been saying, as soon as his eyes fluttered opened. "Ah think... ah think ah'm losin' time."

He heard ghost curse under his breath, and his breathing pick up. "Stay awake, Johnny. You hear? Keep talkin' to me. Tell me-.. tell me 'bout your sister. How's she doin'."

"That's a new one. Never had anyone tell me ta keep flappin' my gums..." he coughs wetly, "Hey- is it supposed to be hard to breathe? That's not normal, right?"

Ghost goes really quiet on hsi end of the line then. And then he speaks up, really softly. "Johnny?"

"Yeah, L.T?"

"Liten to me very carefully. Have you been impaled?"

Soap looks down at himself. It's hard to breathe, but he's got nothing poking out of him, so, "no?"

Ghost curses again.

Oh. Hey was the fire that close before? Shouldn't ge be hot, not shivering his fuckin' balls off? Something's... thats... Something's definitely wrong. His eyelids threaten to fall closed.

Wait! No. He's supposed to stay awake. That's what ghost said... he thinks... right? You're not supposed to fall asleep. He learned that in basic didn't he? Why was it so hard to think? Maybe it was the shivering? Wait, but there was fire. He should be hot. He should be trying to get away from it... but he was so tired? He should sleep if he's tired, right? Listen to his body and all that.

Wait! But ghost said!

"Can you talk to me, L.T? 'M tired..."

"JOHNNY! Stay awake! You hear?" The volume of the garbled words startles soap awake again.

"Talk? W'na 'ear yer voice.." he slurs

Ghost answers him appropriately... he thinks. The voice is soothing. He could fall asleep to that voice so easily...

When ghost finds soap he's not breathing, his pulse is faint, and fire is creeping ever closer. He starts rescue breaths immediately. Next come the chest compressions. He feels something snap underneath his hands. He keeps going. Med-evac should be here by now he thinks.

PLEASE! JOHNNY, PLEASE!

he doesn't wake up. His pulse fades weaker and weaker.

He still has time. He still has time. He still has time. He. Still. Has. Time.

He's not losing him. He's not losing him He's not losing him. HE IS NOT LOSING HIM!

Oh... but the medical team pulls him away. He fights back. They drag him out of the building. He watches as they carry soaps lifeless body out through fire.

They don't even start chest compression again. They just lay him down in a body bag and zip it up

A gutteral, heart-wrenching scream rips through the air. It's him. He knows it's him. But he can't feel it. Can't hear it. Not really anyway. He screams, pushes, curses, shoves. Anything to bring Johnny back.

Johnny does not come back.

He collapses. They have to drag both him and Johnny the body back to the helo.

That's it. That's how it ends.

Nothing quiet and soft like they both hoped for. Nothing brilliant or spectacular. Not even taking the life of an enemy or saving a comrade's life. Just...

The autopsy report said a punctured lung.

The explosion must've broken his ribs. His best guess it that it punctured his lung when he'd tried to get up tjat first time. Then fluid began to fill his lungs. And neither of them knew. Not until it was too late anyway. Soap had gone into shock, and Ghost hadn't been able to get there fast enough. They said they didn't know how he survived so long with the filled lung.

But ghost knows. He stayed to talk to simon. Just for a little longer.

That's the only consolation he gets as he fills out the mission report. That soap's hear stopped beating to the sound of his voice. He'd always said simon had a lovely voice, he wasn't sure if he believed that but soap seemed to think so.

But what now... what... happens... now...

This was supposed to be like 2.5 sentences but it grew legs and ran away from me

[crystalsamethyst]

❤️ take on Quan Yizhen and Yin Yu??

Wow turns out I have some longer thoughts than expected, so I'm going to put a break for both length and spoilers!

I relate with Yin Yu a lot, particularly the line "If I wasn't destined to be perfect, I at least wanted to be perfectly kind." I think what happened to him was frustrating and unfair, but I definitely think Ghost City is better for him. He gets the respect he deserves.

And Quan Yizhen, I just love how he just goes for things with like no hesitation. The bed-throwing at Pei Ming, going to beat up followers for making fun of Yin Yu, jumping off Xie Lian's statue to go fight Jun Wu directly, like, yeah! Fuckin gooo!! Rooting for you!

I also think they should both be very good friends with Xie Lian.

Quan Yizhen would absolutely love fighting the strongest martial god even if he keeps getting beaten, and Xie Lian would have a blast too since he loves the passion and dedication his opponent has for fighting.

Yin Yu and Xie Lian would be more chill. Maybe more focused on forms, and then talk about the styles of their countries, maybe some different cultivation techniques. I actually love the idea of Yin Yu being the one to teach Xie Lian a new cultivation path if that decision is ever made.

As a couple, I find them cute but tragic. I think it would take a lot of work for Yin Yu to get over what happened, but I don't think talking it out with Quan Yizhen would work very well, leaving him still frustrated.

I do ship them though! I don't think it would necessarily be healthy but I do like the idea of Yin Yu just accepting that the problem will never go away but his life is a lot more fun with Quan Yizhen even if he drives him crazy. He's feared and respected by ghost city and friends with Xie Lian but having someone so lively just ache to be near him, I think it would be both annoying and validating for him.

[damnfandomproblems]

https://www.tumblr.com/damnfandomproblems/754655237101453312/5168-you-made-some-good-points-but-the-tone-of?source=share

I do not care if you think i sound angry or swear too much. I also dont care for you attitude about it making you seem like you think yourself superior for not saying "fuck". You can shove your passive aggressiveness back up your ass where you pulled out from.

Now. I agree about the misunderstanding about what "AI" is, however I was not going to go on a long and complicated tangent about the differences and misunderstandings in a problem venting blog like this. (To the guy/gal that said "OP sounds like a person who hears someone programming an NPC and immediately screams “pick up a pen” at them for that" fuck off, if you could read you would be able to determine what kind of "AI" and use for it im talking about.)

Most of that last paragraph could have been simplified but since you're so hung up on me swearing, I'm gonna not put a lot of effort into rereading it, and just go for what i obviously disagree with.

"What if the options for someone are either using it or not having art for something? What about someone's personal roleplay that they never post anywhere?"

1. Fuckin just dont use it? This is assuming that said hypothetical person is incapable of saving up to commission an artist. Which in this economy can be understandable for those that live paycheck to paycheck. I would argue however, as someone who lives paycheck to paycheck, that they have better priorities than having a painting on their wall or on their computer. What "something" could be so important that you "need" artwork for? And don't mix up "want" and "need" here. I wanna know what is so essential to a person living that they need artwork for it.

2. The same chat bot one person uses for "personal roleplay they never post" is used by hundreds of others for online roleplay, generating responses to real people, or generating fics to post. People have gotten by long enough without chat bots. They do not need them. It is a greedy and lazy want, and people act like spoiled children over the thought of their toy that does everything for them being taken away. This doesn't even mention the resources needed just to generate these responses.

Fandom is a hobby. You know whats also a hobby? Pottery, wood working, glass making, smithing ect.

Machines can automate a lot of that work for you. Hell most of the mugs in your cup board are probably made by a machine. Made perfectly identical to eachother that you bought at walmart or something. Designed by a human but still made by a machine. Same with pins and charms and stickers you find of etsy. Designed by humans made by machines.

You can't automate the design process. That's why things you buy in store or online designed by a human can still be considered art, are still appreciated by people as art and are bought to support the artist. Consensual copies of the original designed/made by a human maybe but still better than stolen work chopped up and put together by a machine.

The thing about fandom is that it has always been about art and the artists. Whether you write, sing, paint, or what have you. You cannot automate the process of making something original. You cannot automate the process of appreciating something. A machine cannot appreciate the show you love. Producing generated responses to a roleplay you are in just shows how little you value someone elses effort they put into their writing. People who think you can automate art don't view art as art. They view it as content to consume. Entertainment for them.

Its a greedy and selfish desire that drives people to use "AI" to automate content for them to consume. They don't want human connection. They want entertainment and they want the easiest way of obtaining it. Its lazy and soulless. And I'm sick of it.

Posting as a response to a previous ask.

[gaycrittercentral]

if each max sin and sam virtu decited to date eachother, who would each date?

( like would lust max choose chasity sam or? )

ooooOOOOOoooo this is a fun one!! :D also WOOOOWWWW FUCK YOU TUMBLR I HAD THIS ALL WRITTEN UP AND READY TO GO AND YOU JUST FUCKIN CRASH ON ME AND DELETE ALL MY GODDAMN WORK?????? wow. hellsite real fjdksljgds;jfdsj

anyway back to the fun question ^^; this gonna get long so I'll put it under a cut!

Yeah I think you're absolutely right, Chastity and Lust are hysterical together. Like it's too much fun to chase him down and flirt relentlessly and watch him squeak in terror, Lust wouldn't be able to resist lmao. Also as I've touched on in past posts, Chastity is really just barely holding back his own desires and would definitely be into it despite his intense embarrassment. Like they make out in a closet for hours and then he stumbles out with cartoon smooch marks all over his head all woozy and lovestruck lmaoooooo. Now how about the rest of them...

OOH y'know who's really funny together, Greed and Charity. Because Greed wants everything, and Charity wants to give it to him. They are actively making each other worse and it's great <3

but I don't think they'd all match up one to one, like for example, Diligence and Sloth are funny together but would absolutely drive each other insane (or probably just to tears in Sloth's case :'/). Instead, I think Sloth would be drawn to Patience, because Patience won't make him get up pretty much ever lmao. They just sit still all day and Sloth gets a good nap and cuddle in hehe ^^

Now how about the more, er, temperamental ones...Wrath is tough because he just likes to shoot at everybody, so he's not exactly in the market for a partnership, much less relationship. But y'know, he'd be kinda perfect with Diligence because he needs people to shoot and Diligence needs people to arrest, so Diligence just goes around siccing him on every criminal in sight xD Then when Wrath gets bored and starts shooting at Diligence he just scoffs like "Stop that Max I have paperwork to file. Go shoot at some pigeons why don't you" fdsjksdljgs;dhf

Gluttony is absolutely not getting a date, he's getting a snack. And probably it's Temperance. Like Temperance would love to have a proper relationship with at least one of his multicolored husbands, but he happens to get a little too close and Gluttony's just like "ah perfect you look edible >:)" and that's all she wrote lmaooooo

Another tricky one is Humility since he's kind of just a conglomeration of self-loathing, poor baby. Honestly it would be WILDLY toxic, but I could kinda see him ending up with Pride if Pride decided he liked keeping him around for like menial tasks and offering worship and shit. Probably there's more to be said about that depending on whose version of Pride we're talking about, but I'll leave that for @pikaflute or @lizardtheartist to expand on if they happen to feel like it ;>c

And lastly, I'd love to see Kindness and Envy pair off because every version I've seen of that poor boy could use some love and reassurance, and that's all Kindness wants to do day in day out ^^ like Kindness would still be bouncing around helping other people too, but if Envy's clinging to his shoulders the whole time then he'd be able to check in with him frequently and make him still feel appreciated and cared for. What's better for feeling valued than being carried around by somebody who spends every waking moment asking if you need anything and telling you he loves you and idly scritching your cheeks while he does other stuff? ^^<3 Sure, Kindness still needs to calm the fuck down and take care of himself too, but Envy does also need to be blasted with love like that lmao so it would at least be nice in the short term.

Oh and I almost forgot their poor chopped-up counterparts, Bliss Max and Sin Sam! :0 they're interesting because they kind of go in two opposite directions--Bliss Max gets along with everybody and would probably be perfectly chill hanging out with any of the virtues, but Sin Sam is kind of perpetually ticked off and doesn't wanna be around anyone lmao. Probably Bliss Max could get along especially well with Kindness (but Kindness does try very hard to make that a given), but I could also see him being good buddies with Chastity. Since he's not really flirty, Chastity would feel safer with him, and maybe they'd have a nice little chat about hobbies or some such lol. As for Sin Sam, he might be able to have some fun with Wrath for a while, but that's assuming Wrath doesn't just try to shoot him on sight instead (which honestly seems like the more likely outcome). He'd also be able to have some fun with Lust, but he'd get sick of Lust being all lovey dovey and ditch him pretty quickly (what a heartbreaker shhgjfjdskhgsjfs xD). Bastard man. He kinda deserves to get stuck with the irritatingly bubbly Bliss Max lmaoooooo

And that's all I got!! Btw if anybody else makin vice content wants to reblog with ideas I'd love to hear em! Thanks again for a fun ask, bud :D

[therealslimshakespeare]

I wonder, did the conversation that Egan references in the last chapter, between Benny and Maureen is the same one which you talked about in one of the asks, where he essentially yells at her for worrying Gale and putting pressure on him (the one that leads to needless friction between couple and gets resolved as soon as Gale realised why Maureen was distancing herself from him)? Because in the last chapter she seemed so downcast and broke my heart, and I know that Benny did it out of good intentions but I honestly don’t think that was necessary to do. I get that he’s worried about everyone’s safety and probably doesn’t know how to react, but I’m pretty sure that it’s in the text that Maureen knew that the disappearing act was fucked up and she would strive to get better without that confrontation. I don’t know I guess I have a lot of feelings about yelling at the rape and abuse survivor about what’s wrong with her while she’s still in high risk situation and it rubbed me the wrong way. I don’t want to blame Benny as I really like his character, or at least your take on him, but I think she knows what’s wrong with her. I appreciate Egan’s approach so much more to that situation. I feel like I represent a lot of the same copying mechanism as Maureen and it felt like something that would really hurt me, even if what’s Benny was saying was true (but if I’m not wrong she knew all of that already). That being said, I don’t judge characters due to those stalag arguments, it’s a very stressful, dangerous and just plain bad place to be so tensions running high is perfectly normal and it shows your strengths as a writer to convey it so beautifully

Ahh your last bit is exactly the crux of it, and as a writer I’m not writing these arguments with clear cut good and evil sides. That’s reserved for other conflicts. These sorts happen all the time in real life between friends and associates and like you said, in the stalags it’s worsened all the more! And the impulse to vilify one or the other after I write it is kinda alarming to me, like- please tell me yall aren’t doing that in real life? *nervous laugh* so, I massively appreciate you saying that.

Ok as for rationale-

Yes, she already knew it was fucked up. She already intended to try to get a grip; she is, as you mentioned, going the fuck through it. And Bucky’s method would certainly be my preferred, Ida doesn’t even need a method she just gets it but we will see some resolution soon anyway, and that’s what I would want to get if I was near her. But as for Benny-

He is her pilot, ya know? like yes, Gale too, but if there’s anyone technically closer to her than just a buddy or a lover or a major but instead is a superior who has gone up to the blue skied hell with her a couple dozen times, it’s him. They may butt heads but they respect the fuck out of each other and he knows she can be better than this. That’s him being rationale, yet on the irrational side, Benny is quietly losing it from being the only one (ok Jack guessed and Ida pried) to know what happened to Gale.

And Sanchez.

Which I think really drives his anger at someone frazzling Cleven who he already has such loyalty to, but is also harboring how much trauma this man is also shouldering and he just fucking loses it for him.

I genuinely don’t see Benny yelling, exactly, just in terms of mannerisms he seems more of the scary intense eye contact, hand in your flight jacket and the really brutal relaying of the information that you’re a fucking disappointment right now. Tempered by, WTF is wrong with you wanna talk about it?

Aaand I think that’s when she admits she’s got some severe fuckin amnesia from those brutal interrogations. And- yeah generally speaking she’s really not ok thanks for asking but she’s gonna try

So, Benny is not heartless, but he’s also mildly driven by emotion here. Just as Maureen has been. They’re actually loads closer after this. And he’d be the first to point out she’s being distant…which she didn’t even mean to be, in my mind. But look at how she acts with Bucky, she’s just hollowed out and Gale sorta freaks from that.