#angel wings tee

[yanaromanov]

rockstar nat headcanons 🎸

warning: contains nsfw content, minors dni

- rockstar!nat who takes you on tour with her and her band. each night after her show, she slips back into her trailer to find you waiting, always there for her to use.

- rockstar!nat who met you at one of her shows, spying you in the audience before tracking you down afterwards. she pinned you into the bathroom stall where she’d found you, spilling out confessions over your beauty and her attraction to you. despite being taken aback, you couldn't resist her charm or sultry looks so eventually let her trail you to a room backstage. after that first taste of you, natasha knew she was hooked.

- rockstar!nat who teaches you to play guitar in her trailer. standing so close you can feel her pressing against your back, her body curving into your own. of course she knows the effect this has on you, only teasing you further when she places kisses to your neck each time you play a chord correctly.

“you’re doing so good, angel. maybe you can join me up on stage one night.”

- rockstar!nat who dedicates the song to you on stage, calling out to the audience that this one is for the “pretty girl out there who’s listening”. a lot of the fans like to think she’s speaking to them but you know she means you.

- rockstar!nat who writes little songs for you, letting you sit at her feet as she plays them and you just stare back up, absolutely whipped for your talented girlfriend.

- rockstar!nat who gives you all of the flowers that are chucked on stage, collecting them and handing them over to “her perfect girl” because she claims she couldn’t do it without you.

- rockstar!nat who lets you sign her guitar and makes all of her fans start to speculate just who this person might be that is so close with their favourite band member.

- rockstar!nat who is covered in tattoos and lets you trace them with your fingers as you fall asleep together. you particularly enjoy the way her stomach always sucks in air as you trace over the legs of the black widow spider tattooed next to her hip bone.

- rockstar!nat who takes any opportunity to have you sat in her lap. whether it’s a band meeting, some sort of venue check, or simply just her hanging backstage with her bandmates, you’re always seated on her thigh with her hands wrapped possessively around your waist.

- rockstar!nat who winks to you on stage. whether you’re in the wings or the audience, she’s always looking in your direction to let you know she’s thinking of you.

- rockstar!nat who makes you wear her old red guitar pick on a chain around your neck.

“how else are they gonna know you’re mine, baby?”

- rockstar!nat who notices the way you stare when she plays guitar for you. eyes fixated on her fingers as they dance across the fretboard of her bass, consumed by thoughts of what else those fingers could be doing. it’s never long before natasha is able to read your thoughts and throws her guitar to the side, taking you into her lap instead as she makes you grind down on her hand, listening to the string of moans and whimpers that cascade from your lips.

- rockstar!nat who needs to fuck you after every new concert location, claiming you need to christen each new town or city you venture to.

- rockstar!nat who likes to fuck you in her favourite band tees. reading the tour dates as she pounds you from behind or pushing the fabric up past your tits as she eats you out, then leaving you in nothing more than the shirt one she’s done making you cum over and over.

- rockstar!nat who will let you apply her lipstick before she goes on stage, watching amusedly as your face scrunches up in concentration. without a doubt, she will always leave at least one red kiss mark against your skin before she ventures out for that nights concert.

- rockstar!nat’s calloused fingertips from years of playing guitar, that are always so perfectly hard as she plays with your clit, always eliciting such sweet noises from you as you melt like putty in her hands.

- rockstar!nat who makes out with you in the back alleys behind the venue. pushing you up against the wall and riding her hand up your skirt as she sings your praises from the heavens.

“god, you’re so beautiful, baby. just stand there like that for me, that’s it. 'atta girl.”

- rockstar!nat who fucks you in a bathroom backstage just before the show starts. management is searching for her everywhere, calling her to stage for final checks. you can hear them through the thin bathroom walls but natasha simply covers your mouth with her free hand as she continues to pump her fingers into your wet cunt.

“shh, now angel. you don’t want them to hear you now, do you?”

- rockstar!nat who takes you guitar shopping with her, asking your opinion on all of the models even though she knows your knowledge is very limited and you won’t choose based on anything other than looks.

“you like that one, huh? it is very pretty. though, nowhere near as pretty as you.”

- rockstar!nat who will shower you with gifts, pouring all of her extra income into expensive lingerie sets and new outfits just for you. (or maybe sometimes just for her)

- rockstar!nat who always let you parade about in her leather jackets. you think you are sneaky stealing from the redhead's wardrobe, but she knows all about your tactics and in fact, loves the way you walk around with a piece of her constantly attached, letting everyone see just how you are her girl. not to mention just how hot you look with the leather draped over your shoulders, sometimes just covering up the lacy bra nat had chosen for you to wear. whatever the circumstances, natasha watches you wear her jackets with a wide smirk on her face, simply set on the idea of fucking you later with the leather still clinging to your skin.

- rockstar!nat who loves giving you hickeys. not just on your neck but all over; your tits, your thighs, anywhere she can get her hands on. she loves the way you'll walk around practice the next day with remnants of her still clinging to your skin, even if some are in places only she would ever see. she loves the way her bandmates and management will trace their eyes over the bruises littered on your visible skin, smirking to herself as she sees just how unbothered you have grown to all of their stares.

- rockstar!nat who makes you eat her out before she goes on stage, riding your face as she tenses and moans above you. sometimes when she can’t find you, lost to the backrooms and twisting corridors of the backstage venue, she’s all the more worked up when she does eventually locate you. she'll force you into the closest empty space and slam the door closed behind her, just desperate to get some form of release before she has to go perform.

“hurry up, i’ve only got twenty minutes before final checks. get on your knees.”

- rockstar!nat who passes you the cigarette she’s smoking, encouraging you to take a drag knowing you always do it wrong and end up choking on the smoke. she simply chuckles to herself as she watches you cough, taking the cigarette back from you before taking a long draw, almost as if she’s mocking you. blowing the smoke back into your face and watching you cough more, natasha’s amusement only increases. she pulls you close as she gives you a bitter kiss and mumbles “too much for my little baby, huh?”, stroking your hair as you desperately try to rid the tickle in your chest.

- rockstar!nat who tells you she loves you every second of the day. whenever she gets the chance, she’s whispering it into your ear, nipping at the skin as she reminds you how much she just loves and needs you in her life.

“you’re so beautiful, baby. you know that? god, i love you so much. you’re so perfect for me. so, so perfect.”

- rockstar!nat who you get drunk with one night and finally agree to let her pierce your nipples. it hurts like shit but once they've healed, nat can’t get over how loud you whine whenever she pulls on them. at any chance she gets, she will accidentally brush up against them just to watch the way you bite your lip at the contact. then she'll mumble “something wrong, baby?” only to smirk back as she watches you shake your head in response.

- rockstar!nat who always tucks a pair of your underwear into her pocket before she goes on stage, claiming it’s her good luck charm. sometimes you even watch in horror as a lacy red thong slips slightly from her jeans, on show for anyone in the audience who might care to look for it.

- rockstar!nat who will sign her autograph on to everything you own, just as a reminder of how you're hers. “don’t want you to forget,” she’d murmur, pen cap stuck between her teeth, as she signed her name, handing your possession back with a wink before kissing you on the head and walking away to whatever she was doing before. you know she does it because it especially winds you up, claiming her ego was growing too big as her fame climbs, but there's no denying the small smile that grows on your face every time you see the redhead's small signature etched into everything you own, an everlasting reminder of your love.

[austinbutlerslovers]

Eternal Ink 🪽

Label Mature 18+

Summary Austin is a renowned tattoo artist with his muscular physique covered in intricate ink. After careful contemplation and a little liquid courage, you decide tonight is the night you will finally get the tattoo you’ve been wanting at his shop. Upon entering, you’re immediately struck by his handsomeness and drawn in by his skill. As he works on your tattoo during a quiet, late night session, the intimacy between you two intensifies, fueling a passionate connection. At the end of the session, he satisfies you with something far more exhilarating than the tattoo.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 Edging with unprofessional touch • seduction • dirty talk•nipple play•fingering•Austin covered in tattoos size kink •protection •sex on a tattoo table•multiple orgasms

Master List ••• Upcoming List

*Thank you for your votes! 🗳️ war camp will be released shortly *Please enjoy the winner tattoo 🏆

Eternal Ink 🪽

You stepped out of your car, feeling the cool night air against your skin as you made your way towards the tattoo shop. You were dressed nicely in fitted jeans a plunging halter top and mid calf leather boots. You’d been thinking about getting inked for a while now, and after a few drinks with friends for courage, tonight felt like the perfect opportunity.

Before you even set foot inside, you where well aware of this place’s unrivaled excellence, a testament to the exceptional skills of its artists. But it was the masterful artistry of the owner Austin that truly commanded attention. His reputation resounded through the city streets for his artistic brilliance.

The neon sign above the door glowed softly casting a warm light onto the pavement. ‘Eternal Ink’ it read in bold stylish letters. The sign was a striking blue its light flickering slightly creating an almost hypnotic effect. It was framed by a pair of tattooed wings that seemed to flutter with the movement of the light adding an artistic flair to the shop’s entrance.

The store front itself was equally impressive. Large glass windows allowed a glimpse into the shop’s interior, showcasing walls lined with framed tattoo designs and artwork. The door was a heavy dark wood with a polished brass handle, adding a touch of old world charm to the modern, edgy aesthetic of the shop.

Pushing the door open you were greeted by the scent of antiseptic mixed with a faint hint of bergamot. The lobby was both inviting and intimidating, a perfect blend of artistry and rugged masculinity.

Dark polished hardwood floors gleamed under the soft overhead lights, and the walls were covered in framed pieces of tattoo art each one more impressive than the last.

A plush black leather couch sat against one wall, next to a display case filled with tattoo designs and equipment. Next to the display case was a high table covered in tattoo design books. A large ornate mirror hung along the back wall reflecting the lobby making it feel even larger.

At this late hour it seemed the only occupant of the shop was the owner Austin working behind the counter organizing ink bottles.

He stood with his back to you his tall fit frame outlined against the soft lighting from the glass shelving he stood in front of.

His sandy brown hair was slightly tousled giving him a rugged yet polished look. The muscles on his back and shoulders were clearly defined, each contour accentuated by the soft lighting.

Tattooed angel wings adorned his shoulders, their intricate details peeking out from beneath the fabric of the black muscle tee clinging to his athletic form.

His chiseled arms were a canvas of intricate tattoos, each design seamlessly flowing into the next all the way up to his neck and down to his wrists. For a moment, you simply stood there, captivated by the sight of him.

The way he moved with such confidence and ease was mesmerizing. As he turned your eyes met and your breath instantly hitched in your throat as his piercing blue eyes locked onto yours. He was irresistibly attractive.

“Hey there,” he said eyeing you in return, his voice was smooth and deep with a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He stepped around the counter and extended his hand.

“I’m Austin. How can I help you tonight?” you took his hand feeling the strength and warmth of his grip. Your eyes locked again and you felt a spark of something more pass between you.

His touch was firm yet gentle, his skin warm and roughened slightly from years of tattooing.

“Hi..yeah…” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. “I was hoping to get a tattoo tonight. Am I too late?”

His smile deepened, and he held your hand a moment longer than necessary before letting go.

“You’re just in time,” he said not even glancing at a clock. “What are you thinking about getting?” He asked as his gaze traveled subtly down your body, taking in your curves with a look of appreciation that sent a thrill through you.

When your eyes meet again Austin’s gaze lingered on yours and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with nervousness.

Despite his commanding presence there was a warmth in his eyes that put you at ease.

You shifted slightly, suddenly unsure of what tattoo you wanted. “I’m not exactly sure what I want,” you admitted, feeling a bit sheepish.

Austin’s smile remained “No worries, Let’s take a look at some tattoo books. We’ll find something that speaks to you.” He said reassuringly and gestured you to follow him to the high table in the lobby which was adorned with a variety of tattoo design books.

As you flipped through the pages together his hand would occasionally brush against your sending sparks of electricity flying through you.

You slowly regained your composure and began to explain your idea to him, a small intricate design on your inner hip, something personal and meaningful. He listened intently, his eyes focused on you with understanding as you discussed the details.

Then with a fluid motion, he pulled open a drawer from the table, retrieving his sketch book and flipping open a fresh page. “How about this?” he suggested his hand moving slowly as he sketched a design on the piece of paper.

Once finished, he handed it over for your approval and as you examined the drawing in your hand, you realized it was exactly what you had envisioned, perfect in every detail.

“That’s it!” you said your voice filling with excitement. “I love it!”

As your eyes lifted from the drawing to his you could see a hint of pride in his expression as a warm smile spread across his lips.

“I’m glad you like it,” he replied, his voice low and genuine as his eyes lingered on you. “Let’s get you set up.”

He led you to a back room, his private tattoo space that exuded a dark masculine energy. The walls were painted a deep charcoal gray adorned with framed photos and artwork. Black leather furniture sleek and stylish filled the room. The scent of leather mixed with the faint aroma of ink and antiseptic created an edgy atmosphere.

There was a large framed picture of Austin on a powerful motorcycle above his desk, looking every bit the rugged artist that he was. Next to it were pieces of his favorite designs, detailed and vibrant tattoos that showcased his incredible talent.

In the center of the room was a black leather tattoo chair, its surface smooth and inviting. It looked like a throne, commanding attention in the dim lighting.

Austin gestured for you to sit and as you settled into the chair he pressed a button making you lay all the way flat, filling you with a mix of excitement and nerves.

"First time?" he asked, his eyes twinkling in amusement as he turned on his work light and directed its beam on your hip.

“Yeah,” you admitted, laughing nervously. “Go easy on me?”

He chuckled, a warm, reassuring sound. “I’ll take good care of you, don’t worry.”

As Austin prepared the equipment, his movements were precise and confident. The room was quiet the only sounds being the snap of his black gloves fitting onto his hands and the soft buzz of the machine as he tested it.

You took a breath and unbuttoned your jeans pulling them down low to reveal your right hip bone. His eyes remained steady on his task as he cleaned your skin.

His touch was gentle and professional, yet still he managed to send a shiver down your spine.

“Ready?” he asked, looking up at you with his intense blue eyes.

You took another deep breath and nodded. “Ready.”

Austin’s eyes lingered on yours for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the task at hand.

He dipped the needle into the ink, and his fingers pressed lightly against your skin. As the needle touched your skin a sharp burning sensation shot through you. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, painful and sharp, but also exhilarating.

The intensity of the sensation was constant but there was a rhythm to it, a hypnotic quality that made it bearable. You winced a bit biting your lip as the discomfort quickly began to mix with a strange, almost pleasurable sensation.

Austin paused for a moment lifting his gaze to meet yours. “You doing alright?” he asked with his hand gently rested on your hip.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah, I’m okay. It hurts, but it’s… different. Not as bad as I expected.”

He gave you a small, understanding smile. “Just let me know if it gets too much, alright? We can take a break if you need.”

His words were comforting and the way he looked at you with genuine care made you feel completely at ease despite the pain. You nodded and he returned to his work.

The needle continued its steady hum and his fingers occasionally brushed against your skin to wipe away any excess ink. The sensation of his touch, coupled with the steady rhythm of the needle ignited a wave of arousal within you, transforming the discomfort into a tantalizing pleasure.

You found yourself captivated by his face as he worked. His handsome features were well defined, his high cheekbones and strong jawline catching the light of the overhead lamp as he worked.

His intense focus made him even more attractive, the way his brows furrowed as he concentrated, his full lips pressing together in a thin line of determination.

Each time his eyes flicked up to meet yours it sent a thrill through you, unable to deny your desire for him. It became evident he felt the same way as the depth of his emotions mirrored your own, the undeniable attraction between you both conveyed through each intense gaze.

He leaned in closer to fill in the intricacies of the design and you felt his warm breath against your skin, each exhale sending a gentle shiver down your spine causing you to move slightly. His grip on your hip reactively tightened. His fingers pressing into your flesh in a way that felt both possessive and protective.

“You’re doing so well for me,” he encouraged, his voice low and soothing, keeping you calm as he worked on a vital area of the design. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he manipulated the needle in delicate lines of precision.

His face displayed such a focused intensity as he masterfully inked the tattoo needle into your skin that it made you feel a mixture of anticipation and exhilaration knowing his skilled hands were marking your body permanently.

You calmed your urges focusing on the steady rhythm of his breathing and the gentle caress of his hand, until it transformed into something more.

His fingers began to trail across your skin with a subtle intimacy that stirred the arousal in you once more and you couldn’t help but fixate on his hands. You began feeling increasingly turned on by the way his fingers moved with purpose, each touch deliberate and confident, sending waves of desire coursing through you.

The warmth of his touch and the firmness of his grip stirred a deep lust within you. As his fingers ventured closer to your pelvic line, your pulse quickened, and your breath hitched in your throat.

Austin looked up at you again, this time the intensity of his stare sent a thrill through you. There was a spark there that ignited within a wordless heat growing more intense between you two at every passing moment.

He paused, leaning back to wipe away any excess ink, his fingertips trailing along your hip in a tantalizing manner. The deliberate slowness of his touch sent waves of excitement through you, intensifying the already electric atmosphere.

Sensing your attraction for him he couldn’t help but feel a surge of his own desire rising. Firmly gripping your hip he began seductively tracing his thumb along the edge of your tattoo.

Each stroke elicited a soft gasp and a subtle shift in your breathing a silent acknowledgment of the pleasure he was bestowing upon you. As your eyes met he gazed at you with an allure that made it clear his touch fueling your arousal was intentional.

“You have very beautiful skin,” he said softly, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and desire. His gaze traveled down your body lingering on the curve of your hip where he was tattooing. “Perfect canvas.” He said passionately.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, your body reacting to the intensity of his gaze and the intimacy of his words.

“You’re doing incredibly well for your first tattoo,” he praised, his voice a blend of reassurance and seduction. “Almost done,” he confirmed.

His eyes locked onto yours with a smoldering intensity, and a playful smirk formed on his lips revealing his desire for you.

You nodded, unable to speak, your body trembling slightly with the intensity of the experience.

His touch returned even more intimate than before as if he was savoring the contact, making your breath hitch and your heart race on each touch. The warmth of his hand and his fingertips lingered after every stimulating touch, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake as you became wet for him.

His eyes lifted to meet yours with a mischievous glint dancing within them. He spread his large hand wider across your pelvis, keeping the needle centered, as his fingers sensually teased under your panty line. The intimate touch ignited a fire within you, and it was evident he relished the effect. His smile only adding to the allure, intensifying your desire for him.

The sculpted muscles of his bicep flexed subtly as he finalized the design, showcasing the intricate tattoos adorning his own skin. Every movement he made captivated you, from the ink on his forearms to the designs gracing his neck. With each glimpse, your arousal heightened, fueled by an intense curiosity about the hidden artistry concealed beneath his clothing.

When he finally lifted the needle for the last time you let out a shaky breath, feeling a rush of relief and exhilaration from the intimate experience.

“All done,” he said, sitting back and snapping off his black gloves admiring his work. “Take a look.”

As you sat up he offered his hand, helping you to stand. You walked to the full length mirror in the room, lifting your shirt and pulling your jeans lower to admire your new tattoo.

It was beautiful, exactly what you had envisioned. The lines were clean and precise, the design was delicate yet striking. You turned to him filled with gratitude and something deeper swelling in your chest.

Before you could second guess yourself, you closed the distance between you stepping into his space with purpose. “It’s perfect,” you praised, your voice tinged with a hint of arousal.

You reached for him with a flicker of uncertainty dancing within as you gently placed your hands on his broad chest. “Thank you, Austin,” you breathed, your voice barely audible as you gazed up into his striking blue eyes overcome with desire.

He looked utterly irresistible, his hair tousled in a way that only added to his allure, a few strands falling playfully over his forehead and framing his beautiful blue eyes. His features exuded a quiet confidence and undeniable charm, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief as they met yours.

His full lips curved into a smile and he pulled you in closer slowly wrapping his arms around your waist. "Stay a while?" he asked, his voice was a deep rich tone sending a surge of anticipation through you.

“I’d love to,” you breathed and he lowered his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss, the intensity of the moment flooded through you entirely. His kiss was tender yet hungry as his hands roamed your back holding you tightly against him.

You broke apart from him nearly breathless form the moment and he smiled down at you. His eyes locked onto yours showing the depth of his desire as he gently caressed the curve of your cheek.

“You know I own this place,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “So we have all the time in the world here.” He said with a smile that exuded confidence as he held your gaze.

“That’s good to know,” you replied, your voice laced with seduction. “I wouldn’t want to rush with someone as skillful as you,” you teased as you gazed up at him full of desire with a sensual smile spread across your lips.

Austin chuckled and tantalizingly traced his finger gently along your jawline “You’re something else, you know that?” He asked with his eyes narrowed.

You shrugged playfully as you responded “I get that a lot” with a hint of allure in your voice.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “I bet you do.” He said moving closer. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks as he leaned in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. This time it was deeper, his mouth explored yours with an intense passion that made your heart race. His tongue teased and tasted yours each movement sending jolts of electricity through you as his hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and contour.

His grip was firm yet gentle on your waist as he broke the kiss pressing you against the leather edge of the tattoo table. His body was so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him in waves. His eyes darkened with desire locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart flutter.

He leaned in so close that his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, “I’ve wanted you from the moment you walked in.” His words sent tingles of excitement throughout your body as he gently trailed his fingers down your arms. “I never imagined you felt the same,” he confessed, his voice thick with desire.

You felt a surge of anticipation fill you as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes with a slow sensual smile curving on his lips. Then without another word kissed you hard and demanding, his hands exploring your body gliding down your shoulders and over your chest gently squeezing the curves of your breasts through the fabric of your shirt.

His fingers teased your nipples with featherlight strokes until they hardened. Then with a tantalizing pull he gently tugged at the buds, eliciting a soft gasp of pleasure from your lips. His touch ignited a fierce desire within you, and you melted into him, your own hands reaching up to thread your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as your mouths came together in a heated clash.

The tattoo table was sturdy behind you supporting as Austin’s kisses increased with desire. His lips moved from yours trailing down your neck, their warmth igniting a deeper lust with every tender press.

“You taste incredible,” he murmured, his voice a low caress against your skin. His teeth grazed your neck eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips as his hands roamed possessively over your curves, lingering on the bare flesh where your halter top didn’t cover.

“You feel so soft,” he whispered, his voice filled with admiration and lust, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

He brushed his hand against the skin of your neck. “I want to see every inch of you,” he said, his eyes smoldering with desire. “And I want to touch every part of you,” he said his hands traveling possessively down to grip your hips.

A shiver ran through you as you finally answered. “Then take me, Austin. I’m yours.”

Austin’s breath hitched as he heard your words fulfilling his desire. With a hungry gaze, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

His eyes darkened with lust as a smirk formed on his lips. Your consent giving him the final push to satisfy his overwhelming urge to indulge in the passion between you.

He kneeled down in front of you swiftly unzipping your boots, easing them off, one by one with a steady hand. He pulled down your jeans revealing your skin inch by inch to the cool air as he took them off. His eyes never left yours as he peered up at you hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your wet panties sliding them down until you stepped out of them.

As he stood his fingers grasped the hem of your shirt tugging it upwards. You lifted your arms, allowing him to pull it off and toss it aside. He paused for a moment, his eyes roaming over your naked form with a look of pure desire.

“You’re irresistible,” he whispered, bringing his hands to cup your breasts with adoration as his thumbs traced your nipples. His lips found their way to your neck trailing a line of soft kisses. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” he murmured against your skin as his lips continued their journey up your neck.

As you opened your mouth to answer he captured your lips in another searing kiss his tongue boldly delving into your mouth, exploring with an irresistible need.

“Austin..” you breathed, pulling back slightly, your hands sliding up his muscular arms, feeling the strength beneath his skin. “I need you,” you confessed, holding his gaze with your faces mere inches apart.

”I need you too” he whispered against your lips. His words were filled with longing and urgency and he readily lifted you onto the edge of the tattoo table positioning himself between your legs. With his body pressed firmly against yours, you felt tingles of anticipation surging through you.

He stared into your eyes as he placed his hand on your thighs, gently spreading your legs apart on the tattoo table. His passionate touch sent waves of anticipation through you.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice was thick with desire.

You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps. “Yes, exactly.”

He smiled, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. “You have no idea how badly I want you.”

You shivered at his words, the anticipation building even more. “Then don’t hold back,” you urged, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Austin’s eyes darkened with lust as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “I won’t.” he vowed.

His hand reach between your bodies and his fingers made contact with your wetness applying a gentle pressure, slowly gliding them along the slick surface of your folds. With each stroke he explored the contours of your most sensitive areas, looking into your eyes and paying attention to the subtle responses of your body.

The sensation intensified as he lingered on certain spots, teasing them with the delicate precision of his fingertips, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you as you stared at him in shock.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice filled with desire as he looked into your eyes again seeking your confirmation. You nodded quickly as your heart raced in anticipation.

With a deliberate and tantalizing slowness he pushed his fingers deep inside, the sudden intrusion making you gasp in pleasure. The sensation was intoxicating as your walls clenched around his fingers, each movement of his expertly seeking and stimulating a sensitive spot within you.

He curled his fingers as he pushed them in and out of you sending surges of pleasure throughout your body, intensifying with every thrust as he skillfully explored your depths.

He wrapped his other hand around your throat, his lips returning to yours as he moved his fingers through you in a steady rhythm. Every touch, every kiss, and every thrust of his fingers sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your body.

The pain from the tattoo faded away, replaced by a pleasure so intense it left you breathless. You felt the familiar tightening in your core as Austin’s fingers worked, pulling along the ridge of your most sensitive spot with each skillful thrust.

With the deliberate strokes of his fingers, expertly penetrating your inner walls you felt yourself giving in to the intoxicating waves of pleasure crashing over you and began to tremble and pant into his mouth as he kissed you. His lips trailed down to your neck and he sucked on the soft skin causing your walls to flutter against his plunging fingers. “Let go for me” he whispered against your neck.

His seductive command was the final push to take you over the edge. A loud uninhibited moan escaped your lips, the sound echoing the room as he skillfully brought you a climax. Your core throbbed with the release of euphoria as sparks of ecstasy raced through every nerve ending in your body as you orgasmed.

You could barely form a coherent thought, let alone a response from the pleasure he had just allowed you to endure. “Austin!” you panted trying to form words as he stared into your eyes with a knowing grin. The desire to be consumed by him overwhelmed your mind entirely.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent as he removed his fingers from you. He brought them to his wanting mouth his eyes never leaving yours as he traced along each finger with his tongue savoring the taste of you before sucking them clean. His eyes roamed your body with a hunger that made your heart race.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said, his voice low and intimate as he leaned in capturing your lips in another erotic kiss.

You pulled your lips back to meet his gaze. “Then show me,” you whispered, the intensity of desire evident in your voice.

His eyes bore into yours with a primal desire to conquer you before he deliberate took a step back, creating space to undress.

He knelt first and unlaced his boots, removing them with his socks before setting them aside and standing back up.

You watched in anticipation as Austin gripped the hem of his muscle tee, effortlessly lifting it over his head in one fluid motion and flinging it aside.

The sight that greeted you took your breath away. His torso was a masterpiece of art and strength. His skin was covered in intricate tattoos, each one telling a story, that highlighted the sculpted muscles beneath.

His chest was broad and firm adorned with a phoenix that rose majestically in the middle, its wings spreading across his pectorals in vibrant hues of red and gold.

On his rib cage, a dragon coiled, its scales meticulously detailed, the black ink contrasting sharply against his tan skin. His abs were a series of defined ridges, leading down to the waistband of his jeans.

Austin’s gaze met yours, a smoldering heat in his blue eyes as he reached for the button of his fly. With practiced ease, he unbuttoned and slid his jeans off, revealing his long, thick cock.

You couldn’t help but gasp at its size. He was impressively endowed, his cock throbbing with desire and anticipation, every vein pulsing beneath the smooth skin was a visual testament to his undeniable readiness to claim you.

His strong, muscular legs were also decorated with tattoos. A compass adorned one thigh, its points perfectly aligned, guided by the celestial bodies and a hyper realistic wave design graced his calf, as if the ocean itself had been captured in ink.

On his other thigh, an astral pattern began that extended down to his shin, depicting a cosmic journey in ink.

He stood there for a moment, letting you take in the full view of him, his body a striking combination of raw power and delicate artistry. The room seemed to pulse with the intensity of the moment with anticipation and desire.

“You like what you see?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

You nodded, unable to find your voice.

Austin stepped closer, cock swaying as he leaned to reach his hand into the low drawer of his tattoo station. He retrieved the golden packet of a condom glinting in the low lighting as he tore it open.

You watched as he rolled the condom down his large cock with a practiced skill and a look of anticipation gleaming in his eyes.

“You ready for this?” he asked with his voice full of desire. You met his gaze, your eyes filled with a mix of excitement and longing.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart.

He returned to you, positioning himself between your thighs as you sat on the tattoo table. Every inch of him felt larger and more commanding, the embodiment of strength against your softness.

He reached down and wrapped his hand around the base of his thick shaft. With a firm grip, he guided his throbbing cock to the entrance of your soaking wet pussy, teasing the head along your slick folds, feeling the heat radiating from your core staring into your eyes.

“Ready for me?” he asked as he positioned himself at your entrance, seeking confirmation before the inevitable plunge.

You nodded eagerly, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you wrapping your arms around his muscular back reveling in his strength

He slowly pushed forward the tip of his cock parting your lips, the sensation of his hardness pressing against your softness eliciting a loud moan from your lips.

Each inch he pressed inside made you gasp, your walls stretching to accommodate his girth, as you gripped his back tightly, your nails dug into his skin as you moaned with pleasure.

He groaned in response, easing the rest of his remarkably large cock inside of you until he filled you to your core. His eyes locked on yours as he felt your walls throbbing around his cock, trying to adjust to his size.

He brought his hands to hold your hips, steadying himself, as his lips brushed against yours.

“You feel so good on me,” he whispered capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

He withdrew his hips, slightly sliding his cock out before returning it back in smacking his hips flush with your body as his tip pressed against your core beginning his strong rhythm.

With each of his thrusts the intensity grew, driving him deeper into you sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You felt his muscular chest pressing against yours, skin sliding together with each movement as he held you firmly against him, bracing you to take the impact of each powerful thrust. His breath mingled with yours as your bodies moved in perfect rhythm.

“You feel incredible,” he groaned, his voice filled with desire staring at you for confirmation. You only gasped in response, unable to form words as the pleasure washed over you in relentless waves.

He increased his movements and your back arched with the quick jolt force of his thrusts as your skin began making slapping sounds between your bodies.

You gasped, feeling the intense pressure of his hardness against you cervix as his hips clapped between your legs.

“Yes, Austin, yes just like that!” You finally cried out, unable to contain the overwhelming pleasure of being so completely filled by him.

Austin groaned in response to your plea “You’re making me so hard,” he rasped, his voice thick with arousal as he wrapped his hand around your throat in a possessive gesture continuing to thrust into you. Each clap of his hips between your legs igniting a new wave of pleasure.

You began gasping and panting for air between moans, locking eyes with him, knowing your orgasm was imminent. His eyes met yours with a primal hunger, his grip your throat tightening, adding to the overwhelming sensation of his control as he thrust into you with unyielding determination.

You could feel every inch of his powerful body dominating yours, his strength and authority driving you wild. In that moment, you were completely lost to him.

He panted against your lips, his grip firm on your throat as he thrust into you hard and fast

“I want to feel you cum for me,” he rasped over the hard claps of his hips between yours. Each word sent shivers down your spine, and you moaned in response, unable to form coherent words as the pleasure consumed you.

“Fuck!” he whispered sharply “You feel too good.” he admitted and shut his eyes tight enduring the pleasure as he rode into you ramming you full of him.

“Yes Austin take me” you relented arching your back, eagerly meeting his thrusts with your body trembling with ecstasy. “Im gonnna cum!” You gasped.

He growled eagerly, his primal instincts taking over as he locked eyes with yours. Without hesitation, he forcefully thrust into you, each movement becoming more intense with every snap of his hips, driving you both over the edge.

Your moans of pleasure mingled in the air as he delivered his a final, powerful push and gripped you tightly as his cock spasmed releasing rope after rope of his cum into your body.

You scratched your nails down his tattooed back and cried out feeling the throbbing sensation of his cock buried against your walls.

He hungrily captured your lips in a kiss, accepting the pain and pleasure, his tongue dominating yours, igniting a fierce passion that consumed you both.

He pulled his lips from yours and the room fell silent, only the soft sounds of your breaths mingling. He looked at you with his eyes softening. “Stay with me,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “Don’t leave.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, pulling him in for another kiss.

With Austin’s muscular tattooed arms wrapping tightly around you flexing against your skin, you felt the warmth of his body pressing into yours. The fresh tattoo on your hip still tingled, a reminder of the intense connection you had just forged.

You could feel the tension building as Austin withdrew sliding his thick cock out of you with a slow and deliberate pace. Each inch leaving you causing a yearning to feel full of him all over again. When the tip finally slipped out, he immediately pulled you close, craving the intimacy of your connection once more.

In that moment as you looked into each other’s eyes you both smiled feeling completely satisfied. The depth of your connection was undeniable, a powerful bond forged in the heat of passion and intimacy. You knew that you had experienced something truly unforgettable, a moment that would remain tattooed in your hearts forever.

❤️‍🔥END❤️‍🔥

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[ladykailitha]

The Fallen

I blame @vecnuthy for this entirely. Seeing all their Sleep Token posts has completely intersected with Steddie and you get this.

***

Modern AU: Corroded Coffin makes it big. Like Metallica levels huge. Like every up and coming metal band is clamoring to open for them levels of fame. When this metal band, The Fallen comes on the scene and are dismissed as glam rock wannabes.

They are very theatrical. They are dressed in long coats with hoods and face masks. The guitarist, bassist, and drummer all have full Venetian masks of different colors. The bassist has one that looks like a starry night (but not Starry Night if you know what I mean). The Guitarist has a red devil’s mask, horns and all. The drummer is in a black death mask. The eyes of the mask are closed and it looks eerie as fuck. The most dramatic of the masks belong to the lead singer. He wears an opaque white lace mask with the mouth and chin cut out so he can sing.

Their outfits match their masks.

The lead singer, Abbadon, the fallen angel is in all in white with a splash of color on the lining of his coat. Sometimes it’s pink or baby blue, sometimes it one of the colors of bandmates, black or red or starry midnight blue. He wears high heeled boats and not always of the combat variety. Once he wore stilettos with a baby blue stripe up the side. It’s the outfit that gets made into dolls and merch the most. Most of the time he’s shirtless, but has been known to switch it up with lace or sheer tops.

The guitarist plays up the devil persona to a tee and calls himself Asmodeus, the demon of lust. Red leather and fetish gear. Thick red combat boots. His guitar is even blood red.

The bassist is called Astraeus, the titan of the night. While in certain light his clothes look black, but they are in fact a dark blue with bright stars, swirling galaxies, and glowing nebulae. His bass is of the night sky as well.

And finally the drummer, Azrael. Angel of death. Always in black. His drum kit is black with black metal fittings. Even his drumsticks are black.

Like I said, at first dismissed as wannabes but they are killing it. It’s clear that not only are they talented, their flare for the dramatic adds to their mystique. Soon they are the new rising stars of metal.

Dustin is their biggest fan. He loves them. Eddie is offended at the highest level. How dare this little butthead like The Fallen. Dustin rolls his eyes.

“Dude, Corroded Coffin is still number one in my book,” he tells Eddie. “But you can’t deny that Abbadon is a beast on vocals.”

Eddie is forced to concede the point. Abbadon knows how to really get the through to the emotion of a song.

So when Dustin gets front row tickets to The Fallen’s concert in Indy, Eddie reluctantly joins the little twerp.

And the concert starts. First the drummer gets lowered into his seat on giant raven wings.

“Azrael!” the announcer calls out.

And the crowd goes wild.

The man slips out of the harness and wings ascend. Eddie cocks his head, yeah all right that’s kinda cool.

Azrael hits his drums and the bassist gets lowered on to the stage. All shimmering blues and purples, like actual stars, lands deftly on the stage and Azrael hits the high hat.

“Astraeus!”

The crowd is frantic now. Screaming and jumping up and down.

As soon as the wings are unstrapped and lifted away Astraeus riffs on his bass and the crowd eats it up.

Eddie likes this one. It’s unique.

Then Azrael starts up again as another man is lowered and it takes everything in Eddie’s power not to roll his eyes at this one. Red leather gear, horned mask, and fucking bat wings.

He stomps on the stage and really wails on his guitar. Eddie looks over to see that Dustin is absolutely eating it with the rest of them so he wisely keeps his mouth shut.

“Asmodeus!”

Dustin is vibrating so hard that Eddie’s fears he might literally crawl out of his skin with excitement.

And then the entire stadium goes silent. Like stock still. Eddie is looking around him confused.

He looks back at the stage and there descends the absolute most devastatingly handsome man Eddie has ever seen and he hasn’t seen his face.

His arms are out stretched and his head is bowed. Once he lands air cannons shoot out white feathers out at the crowd and the wings ascend without this man.

“Abbadon!” the announcer screams for the final time.

“Indy!” he shouts into his mouthpiece.

And the crowd screams could deafen the most resilient of metal goer.

Abbadon starts singing and the crowd is losing their god damn minds. And yeah, yeah. Eddie is one of them.

They’ve got a stage presence that can’t be manufactured.

And then about half way through the concert he sees it. Abbadon turns his head just right and holy fuck, Eddie is losing his mind for a different reason. He manages to take a picture with his phone before Abbadon turns.

After the concert Eddie grills Dustin about the band all the way home. But the only thing the kid knows is how awesome the band is.

He gets to the hotel and starts watching every interview with The Fallen ever. And he pulls up one from about a year or so back where Abbadon is talking about the masks.

Abbadon pulls out a black mask and holds it up to the light. “See? You can tell that the eyes have mesh covering over them. They work the way two way mirrors do. Azrael can see out of them just fine, but you can’t see in.”

There are a lot of impressed nods, Eddie is definitely one of them. That’s certainly a neat trick.

“So what’s the reason for the masks at all?” the interviewer asks.

Abbadon looks at the members of his band and they all nod. He licks his lips.

“Because if we had been ourselves when we started on the scene,” he said, “we would have be called posers and we wouldn’t have even gotten this far.”

Eddie paused the video and took a deep breath.

Fuck.

Just then Jeff wanders into the hotel room and looks at the TV.

“Is that The Fallen?”

Eddie hums. “Yup.”

Jeff grabs a drink from the mini-fridge and makes his way over. “Oh hey is that poser interview?”

Eddie hums again.

“He can’t really be serious about that,” Jeff says with a huff. “No one in the metal scene would call anyone posers, not if they truly loved the music.”

“We would have,” Eddie says with a finality that brings Jeff up short.

“The fuck we would have, man,” Jeff snaps. “There’s no way.”

“We would have it was Steve Harrington’s band.”

Jeff’s eyes go wide. “There is no way that’s Steve Harrington.”

Eddie pulls out his phone and zooms in on Abbadon’s neck. He hands his phone to Jeff.

“Okay so the dude has moles on his neck,” he says handing the phone back, “lots of people have them.”

Eddie goes through his phone and pulls up a picture of Steve. He’s not in the exact same pose but it’s close enough. He hands the phone to Jeff again.

Jeff squints and then zooms in.

“Holy fucking shit!”

Eddie drapes his hand over his mouth and purses his lips.

“Steve Harrington in a metal band,” Jeff says in awe. “All be damned.”

“When The Fallen came on the scene,” Eddie says dropping his hand so his talk, “we were outselling Metallica in records and ticket sales. If the rest of the band are preps like Steve we would have mocked them relentlessly.”

Jeff sits down hard on the sofa next to Eddie. “Shit.”

Eddie buries his head in his hands.

“We got to tell someone, man,” Jeff says. “This is huge!”

Eddie in his haste to look at Jeff accidentally hits the remote.

“Do you think you’ll ever do a reveal?” the interviewer asks.

Asmodeus leans over to speak in the microphone. “Ask us again in ten years if we’re still selling out crowds.”

Eddie fumbles it again, but manages to turn off the TV.

Jeff and he looks at each other.

“We can’t say shit, man,” Eddie hisses. “It would be like outing someone as gay or trans before they want to.”

Jeff slumps in his seat. “Fuck. Yeah. You’re right. Shit.”

They’re silent for a moment.

Eddie cocks his head to the side. “What I don’t get is how the kids don’t know.”

Jeff opens his mouth and then closes it. He shakes his head slowly. “Sorry but if I was Steve I wouldn’t tell them shit either.”

Eddie frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Look,” Jeff says turning to face him, “they’re great kids. Brilliant D&D players, nerds, geeks, and dorks the lot of them. But I would not trust them with a secret that big.”

Eddie thought about all the time that they accidentally blurted out something that didn’t make sense out of context, but once you knew, holy shit was it a miracle these kids didn’t get into more trouble.

“Yeah okay.”

After a moment of silence Eddie looks over and frowns at Jeff. “What are you doing my hotel room anyway?”

Jeff holds up his beer. “Your beer was cold, I forgot to put mine in the fridge when we got in.”

“Asshole,” Eddie grouses, bumping Jeff’s shoulder.

Jeff kisses his cheek. “You love me though.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

*

Steve is in his dressing room after their last concert of the tour for their second album scrubbing the hell out of his face because that mask is prone to giving him the worst breakouts, when he notices the blue roses.

He gets a lot of flowers but never blue roses. He rinses off his face and walks over to the them.

There’s a note and he thinks he recognizes the handwriting. It’s short and sweet and absolutely terrifying.

“I know your secret, sweetheart. But don’t worry, I’ll never tell.”

It’s not signed, but the ‘sweetheart’ gives it away.

He messages Robin.

“Get Eddie Munson in here right now!”

She protests that she doesn’t know where he is. But Steve knows he has to still be in the building and sure enough she finds Eddie waiting in the wings, looking smug as hell.

Her eyes go wide and cursing up a storm drags him into the dressing room.

She presses her back to the door.

“Who told?” she squeaks.

Eddie laughs. “No one, I swear.”

“Then how did you know?” Steve asks.

He hands Steve his phone with the picture he took at the concert. Robin wanders over to peak over Steve’s shoulder.

“So it’s a picture of his neck,” she murmurs.

But suddenly Steve gets it. “It’s my moles!”

Eddie nods, pressing his lips together so he doesn’t giggle.

“Shit!” Robin hisses. “Do you think anyone else figured it out?”

“I doubt it,” Eddie says with a shrug. “I’m just obsessive that way.”

“About moles?” Robin says with a frown.

“With Steve.”

Robin blinks. “Right I’m out of here.”

She closes the door behind her and they are left alone.

The night ends with Eddie in Steve’s bed asking him for The Fallen to join Corroded Coffin on their next tour next year and there is no way Steve could say no to that. His bandmates would kill him.

They go on tour and the hardest part is dodging rumors that Eddie is two timing Steve with Abbadon because when The Fallen and Corroded Coffin perform together they make out on stage.

Then for The Fallen’s ten anniversary they do a reveal and Dustin is livid.

Robin and Steve had been telling him for years that they were just low level PAs and not a famous rockstar and his equally mysterious manager.

They’re forgiven when Steve tells him that half the songs on the first album are about him and the rest of the kids.

***

This is just a rough draft. I might expand on it in full later.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child

[roosterforme]

How You Play the Game Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was miserable without you, and the pain just wasn't lessening even though you left him weeks ago. He needed to find a way to move on, because you didn't want him, and you weren't coming back. But he should have known there was no substitute for the best thing he'd ever had.

Warnings: Swears, broken heart, angst, consensual sex, sex with a condom while intoxicated (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Weeks later...

As you flew to Vancouver from Detroit, you thought about that six hour flight to Boston where you hadn't stopped crying for a single minute. You thought about leaving San Diego and how it broke your heart to move on to the next city and the next assignment. At least this time you had a window seat instead of the middle seat in the last row. And this time you weren't continually wiping your tears on Bradley's Padres jersey. 

You had his jersey on again today, but this time you felt calm as you reached into your bag to take out your computer and read over the research you'd outlined about the Vancouver Canucks. Your eyes caught on the blue golf ball, and after a second of hesitation, you reached for that instead. 

You'd taken it everywhere with you. It joined you in every hotel room, on every flight and in every rental car. You had it with you in your tote bag when you were in Boston about a month ago working on the exclusive with the Bruins' coaching staff. You were carrying it when you bumped into Abigail Archer for the first time in person. 

With your article completely forgotten now, you dug your phone out of your pocket. It was in airplane mode, but you took a deep breath and unlocked it. You had to scroll a bit to get to the text thread with Bradley, and then you tapped his name and you almost let the tears rise to the surface. You held them back as you read the series of sporadic messages he'd sent you since early November.

I miss you. 

Did you make it to Boston safely?

Ace, please call me back. I miss you so much. 

I have this whole weekend off, and I can't help but think it would be easy for me to fly to wherever you are. If you would want that. 

I still miss you.

I hope you're doing well.

You hadn't responded to a single one of them. And you never called him back either. But sometimes, when you were in a hotel room in a city that you couldn't even identify without looking at your calendar app, you'd get lonely enough to listen to his voicemail message. See ya, Ace.

It took until you met Bradley Bradshaw for you to really understand just how lonely you were. Going back to your apartment in New York City didn't feel like going home. There was nothing there that made you smile. There were no baseball cards or too small Angels tee shirts. There was no Bradley making sure you were taking a break when you needed one. 

And he was part of the reason why you let yourself start to be convinced that you could have more out of your career. Maybe he was right. Somebody else might have something better to offer than Greg or the New York Times. When you talked to Abigail and started to test the waters, it wasn't as terrifying as you thought it would be. Making some calls to see what else was out there ended up validating one fact for you: Bradley was right, your writing was in high demand.

But you had to complete your contract with Greg before you could do much else. And that included Detroit and Vancouver. But you hoped after this, your work-life balance might improve. If you decided to take this information back to Bradley, you hoped he would listen to you. Maybe he would even see what you wrote about your career change in your Detroit Red Wings article. If he was even still reading your articles. There was a chance he might still miss you now, and maybe he'd understand that you needed to see the bigger picture for yourself first. 

Before you left him alone in his bed, he told you that you knew where to find him. He made you feel like it was still okay to go there.

--------------------------

Bradley walked past his coffee table dressed in his flight suit with his travel mug of coffee in his hand. He paused at the front door and looked back at the mess he still couldn't bring himself to clean up. You left him weeks ago, damn near a month ago, but he just couldn't bring himself to clean up all of the fucking baseball cards. 

He closed his eyes and took a calming breath. He was being ridiculous. He was never ridiculous before he met you, so you must have made him this way. Every time he tried to clean them up and put them back out in his garage, his hands faltered and he left the cards out on the table. It was like some sort of sick reminder that you'd really been here with him. It was a way to convince himself he didn't imagine up the perfect woman in his mind and then have to live through the aftermath of watching her leave. 

He tightened his fingers around his mug and rubbed the heel of his other hand against his eyes. Then he took his phone out. He knew he shouldn't do it since you never answered his other messages before, but he texted you anyway. 

I hope you're doing well.

When he re-read what he'd sent, he started to panic. It sort of sounded like he meant it with an air of finality. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that he didn't want to hear from you, because it was quite the opposite. There were times when he felt so lonely, he'd have done anything for you to write to him or call him back. 

He swore he could still smell you in his house, and right now it felt a little too much like you were there. He wrenched his front door open and slammed it closed behind him, breathing in the crisp December morning air. He had to start making some changes, and he needed to do it this week. You weren't going to respond to him. After four weeks he should accept that as a fact and stop bugging you. 

He'd been skipping Hard Deck nights and leaving the locker room after work without really talking to anyone. Nat knew why he was miserable, but even she seemed surprised it had gone on for this long. 

A few days ago, she said, "You've never behaved like this over a woman before. This has all just been very surprising, and I don't know how to help you."

Bradley had shrugged and laughed sarcastically. "Well, I fell in love with her. First time for everything, right? I'll know better for next time."

And that was the truly fucked up part. He had fallen in love with you over the course of ten days. As he drove to work, he thought about your face and your voice. He knew exactly how many miles he put on his Bronco driving back and forth to see you at the games in Anaheim. He knew exactly how much money he spent on all the tickets. He knew how badly it hurt right now to be without you. And he knew he'd repeat everything all over again if he could see you for five minutes. 

Just like every other day, he had to collect himself before he could head inside to the locker room. There was no getting his time with you back. There was no second chance. There was no communication. He needed to stop. He took off his aviators that you'd liked so much and set them in his cup holder. When he checked the time on his phone, he had a notification that a new article from you had been posted eight minutes ago. It was like this every day. He'd wait to see each morning if you'd written anything, and then after it was posted, he'd read it at least three times. 

Your final World Series article was the worst one. It was released two days after you left. He must have read it a hundred times. He'd even take a screenshot of the short passage he was certain was about him.

This World Series was exciting and dynamic for so many reasons. We witnessed some of the best major league pitching in the last decade, and there were more stolen bases than the past three finals combined. Professionally, I may never witness anything like this again. And I can even tell you that on a personal level, I was profoundly changed for the better by everything I allowed myself to experience and enjoy between San Diego and Anaheim over the course of the series.

Bradley looked at his phone screen now. It had to stop. He desperately wanted to read your article on the Detroit Red Wings, but he needed to make this feeling stop. It was like he was constantly in pain every time he thought about you or even simply read your name on his phone. Your written words were never going to help him move on, so he needed to do something about it right now while he felt like he could. 

He deleted the New York Times app. He thought about deleting your number as well, but he needed to save some of his strength to get through his workday. So he just tucked his phone in his pocket and climbed out of the Bronco.

---------------------------

When Bradley walked into the Hard Deck on Friday night after work, he felt defeated and exhausted. He managed to delete the app you wrote for, but he still couldn't bring himself to delete your phone number. Moving on was a necessity right now. He didn't even know why he bothered to come to the bar, but staying home and looking at baseball cards on his coffee table didn't seem to be helping him. 

"You're here!" Nat called out as soon as he walked inside. The bar was decorated for Christmas. Was it that close to the holidays? He'd completely lost track of the weeks, but at the same time, he knew exactly how many days it had been since he'd seen you. His mind was too aware of that number, and it tacked a new one on each day. 

"Hey," Bradley managed to grunt when his friend came over to him and wrapped him up in a hug. The Christmas tree and the strings of lights blurred, and he had to close his eyes. He was missing the feel of your arms around him and the way you smelled. None of this was Nat's fault or anyone's fault really. Bradley didn't even blame you. He couldn't. You and he were nothing. 

"Let me get you a drink," Nat whispered, and she took him by the hand. He recognized the upbeat Christmas song, and he saw the guys waving from the pool table. But when he turned to face the bar, Shannon was right there with her usual smile and a pint glass in her hand. He didn't know why he wasn't expecting her. The last time he saw her was when he brought you here, and he'd give anything to go back to that night. 

Bradley just shook his head. "Something stronger. Please." Shannon raised one eyebrow at him and set the pint glass down in favor of a whiskey tumbler and a bottle of Johnnie Walker. "Yeah."

"Haven't seen you around in a few weeks," she said, watching the amber liquid slosh neatly up the side of the glass as she poured. "Kinda missed you." She met his eyes as she pushed the glass across the bar. "You look so sad."

He held eye contact with her, trying his best to push the intrusive thoughts away. "Maybe I'll be around more now," he muttered, downing the whole drink in one go and setting the glass down again. 

Shannon was familiar to him. Comfortable. He'd been messing around with women for damn near two decades without any deep feelings. You were really his first foray into something... more. But you were gone. You didn't want to talk to him. You weren't coming back.

She refilled his glass and said, "Take this one a little slower, Bradley." He nodded before downing it just like the first one, and she kind of smirked and shook her head. "You'll pay for this in the morning."

He laughed sardonically. "That's the idea." He left the empty glass on the bar with a little nod indicating that he would be back. He desperately needed to clear his head, but he'd been trying everything for weeks. Taking a walk outside, having a cold shower, going for a drive. Nothing fucking helped. 

He needed to forget the feel of your body and the sound of your voice. So he drank an extravagant amount of Johnnie Walker on Nat's tab, and he started to feel looser. He laughed at her when she asked how many he had so far. 

"Don't worry. I'll pay you back," he rasped with a smile that he knew could charm every woman except for his best friend. 

She just rubbed her hand up and down his arm and said, "I hope you know what you're doing. Let me know when you want me to get you home."

He kissed her cheek. "I'm fine, Nat. Just fine." He finished his tumbler and tried to remember if that was his fifth or his sixth, but it didn't matter. He was warm now, and his lips were a little numb. This was exactly what he needed tonight. After he shot a round of pool and lost, he flipped through the jukebox, but it was all bullshit Christmas music. He wasn't in the mood. He thought about playing the piano, but there was an empty stool at the bar now, so he headed in that direction.

"One more?" Bradley asked Shannon as he sat, and she reached out to touch his cheek.

"You sure you really need one?"

"Yep," he said, swallowing against the lump in his throat as she swam out of focus for a split second. "Just one more. It'll make it easier." 

She turned away from him to get one more clean glass. Then she filled it for him. "Thanks, Shannon," he muttered when she set it down in front of him. He was leaning on his propped up hand, and he knew she was kind of pretty. But he knew you were prettier and funnier and smarter. 

"You can't have what you want," he mumbled to himself after Shannon walked away. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and just looked at the screen. Delete it. He had to. He opened his contacts, and there you were right at the fucking top. 

Ace

You'd always be at the top, wouldn't you? 

Instead of deleting your number, he sent you a text before he could reconsider. 

Ace, I fell in love with you.

Fuck. Fuck! You didn't want him. And there was no way to take that message back now. He closed his eyes and shook his head, because he couldn't tell if he was about to cry or laugh. He was fucking miserable. Truly, he'd never experienced this before, and it hurt like hell. His thumb hovered over your name once again, but he couldn't delete it. He drank the whiskey and tried again. But still nothing. 

He watched Shannon move around behind the bar. She wasn't you. She wasn't what he wanted, but when she announced that it was last call, she made her way over to him. 

"But no more for you," she teased, reaching to take his glass away. But he had her wrist in his hand before he registered what he was doing. She looked a little surprised. The tears were in his eyes again, but maybe it wasn't so obvious to her. He couldn't say the words. He needed her to be the one. When he licked his lips, she leaned a little closer. "I'm done in fifteen. Are you interested? Or are you too drunk?"

He took a deep breath as his eyes closed. He needed to try to move on. The pain needed to stop, or else he didn't know what he would do. Right now he was numb enough. It was now or never. "I'm interested."

Bradley was very aware of what he was doing, it just vaguely seemed like someone else was doing it. He gave his keys to Shannon once they were outside. "Remember where I live?" he asked, walking toward the Bronco. 

"Of course I do," she whispered. 

He found himself with his back against the passenger side door with Shannon's lips on his. It felt fine. Would probably feel better the more he got used to it again. He could do this. He kissed her back and told her to drive, because he knew he shouldn't. 

She drove and parked and took him by the hand, leading him inside his house. As soon as he saw the baseball cards, he wanted to upend his coffee table. He wanted to do this and get it over with and go to sleep for a week. And if he didn't feel better after that, then he didn't know what he was going to do. 

When Shannon tried to turn on his bedroom light, he took her hand in his and guided it away from the switch. "Too bright," he mumbled, and she started to get undressed. He stumbled across the hallway to the bathroom and closed the door. When he looked in the mirror, he'd never seen anything quite so pitiful. He splashed a little water on his face, but it just made his flushed cheeks stand out more. He dug around under the sink for some condoms he thought he still had. When his hand closed around the box, he sat back against the wall and cried. 

He had no idea how long he was in the bathroom. He took his shirt off and used it to wipe his face. You didn't want him. He went back to his bedroom where Shannon was naked on his bed, her skin glowing in the light filtering in from the bathroom where he forgot to flip the switch off.

"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. But she must have taken that as a sign that he was ready to go. He wasn't, but he told himself he was. She touched him, and he let her. She kissed him some more, and he let her do that, too. He reciprocated. He knew to do that much. But it didn't feel like anything. He fucked her, but it just wasn't right. And then he fell asleep with a throbbing head and an aching heart and the wrong woman next to him. 

-----------------------

It had been years since Bradley had a hangover. When he opened his eyes, his left arm was hanging off of his bed, and his face was halfway smashed in his pillow. His mouth was completely dry, and he tried to press his lips together and swallow. He had no idea how he got home or what time it was. 

"Oh, shit," he groaned. He texted you last night. When he was sitting at the bar. He was pretty sure he told you he fell in love with you. He knew you wouldn't write back. You must have blocked his number by now. He was probably texting nobody by this point, but it still hurt like hell that you didn't want him the way he wanted you.

Then he remembered what he did after he texted you, and the bile rose in his throat so quickly. Shannon was right there next to him when he turned his head. He let her sleep over. He never let her sleep over before this. She was in your spot. He needed her gone immediately. 

"Hey," he grunted, his throat like sandpaper. "Shannon. You need to leave." 

She rolled over and glared at him. "Still tired," she whispered, completely naked in his bed. 

"Please," he begged. He was so fucking stupid, it was incredible. Now he was miserable and hungover and angry with himself. "I need you to."

She sighed and stretched, and Bradley made a beeline for the bathroom, stepping on a condom wrapper on the way. At least there was that. Then he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He sat back against the wall for a few minutes, afraid there might be more he had to throw up. He knew his head was throbbing due more to the fact that he regretted everything he did last night with Shannon than him drinking most of a bottle of whiskey. 

There was tapping on the door. "If you want me to leave, I need to use the bathroom."

"Give me a minute," he groaned, standing up and looking at himself in the mirror. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked pale. When he brushed his teeth, he felt the tears burning behind his eyes once again. Was this ever going to stop? It had been more than a month. 

Bradley rinsed his mouth and opened the door, barely looking at Shannon as she walked past him, still naked. He went back into his bedroom for a pair of clean underwear and some gym shorts and fought the urge to put all of his bedding in the washing machine. He couldn't even be in here right now, so he left for the kitchen. And he passed the fucking baseball cards again. He would have to throw them away or ask someone to come get them, because he needed them gone as much as he needed Shannon to leave. 

As he turned on his coffee maker, he heard someone knocking on his front door. He already wanted this fucking day to end. He tried not to look at the baseball cards as he passed the table and wrenched his front door open, and then his jaw dropped in surprise.

"Bradley. Hi."

He braced his hand against the door frame as he looked at you standing there on his tiny porch. You were wearing his Padres jersey. He had to be hallucinating. This had to be a dream. You were here.

"Ace."

He watched your face light up at the nickname, and you laughed softly as you examined him like you'd been dying to see him. He gripped the doorframe a little harder as he reached his other hand out to cup your chin and feel your silky skin.

"Holy shit, Baby. What are you doing here?" His heart was pounding, but he felt somehow normal again. Just like he had five weeks ago before you left him in a state of panic. 

"I came to see you." He stroked his thumb along your lip, but you didn't back away. In fact you took a tiny step closer as you added, "I have to be up in Anaheim tomorrow afternoon for some Ducks interviews, but I wanted to see you first. I thought we could talk."

Your eyes were open and earnest, and Bradley felt weak as he looked at his jersey on you. He let his hand drop away from your face, because he had no idea what to say to you right now. He had convinced himself he'd never see you again. "Did you get my texts? Or did you block my number?"

You pressed your lips together and then whispered, "I got your texts. And I've listened to your voicemail a lot. I've missed you." Bradley watched you smile tentatively and give him a little shrug. 

"You missed me," he said in disbelief. "And you got my messages. And you missed me. And you're wearing my jersey."

You looked down at yourself and laughed. "I've been wearing pretty frequently, actually. Turns out I don't have a dress code at my new office, which ironically is in Houston now, but I hardly ever have to be there in person."

When you met his eyes again, he asked. "New office?" He was so confused as he reached out and stroked your cheek with his fingers again just to try to make sure you were still real. 

"Yeah," you said softly, taking another step closer to him. "I have you to thank for that. I have you to thank for a lot of things." You bit your lip before you said, "I left the New York Times. I just finished my last assignment for Greg yesterday. I'm working on a brand new piece now. I actually begged my new employer to let me come back to California for the Anaheim Ducks article even though it's a bit of a fluff piece, because it meant I could come here and tell you that I'm happier now."

"You are?" he asked, unsure what you meant by that. He was having a hard time listening to your voice and looking at your face at the same time, and he wondered how he'd managed ten days in your presence for the World Series. You were just so overwhelmingly perfect. 

"Yes, Bradley. You made me think about my career, and I kind of took the time to change some of my priorities. Because if there's a man as incredible as you who is willing to take a chance on me, then I can take the same kind of chance on myself."

"Ace."

You smiled up at what he was sure was a look of longing on his face. "I'm working for Velocity Report now, and I'm going to have a lot more time off between assignments. Which is important, because you reminded me that I need to take breaks and eat and take care of myself. Even when you're not around."

"I loved doing that for you," he gasped, suddenly dying to kiss you. 

"Yeah, well, you were really good at it," you said as your smile faded a little bit. "But that's why I'm here. To tell you all of this in person. You deserve to hear it in person instead of over the phone, especially since I never responded to you. I wanted to, but I just wasn't ready until now. And I don't know if you read what I said about you in my Detroit Red Wings article... but, I still miss you. And I love you."

His heart was pounding so hard, he thought he was going to pass out. "You love me?" he asked, absolutely needing you to say it again for him as your eyes drifted to where the box of baseball cards was still out on the coffee table. 

Your smile grew as you reached out for his hand and tugged him closer like you were going to kiss him. "Yes, I do. I love-"

Bradley heard a noise behind him, and his heart sank as his eyes went wide. You were looking off to the side, and he heard Shannon's voice. "Oh, sorry." He turned to see her with a puzzled look on her face. He had completely forgotten she was even here. After a few minutes in your presence, you were the only thing that mattered.

"Oh my god," you gasped, wrenching yourself away from Bradley. "Oh, fuck." You looked at him with your hands on your forehead and tears in your eyes. "You know what? Forget I was even here. I'm sorry," you gasped, turning on your heel and walking full speed across his yard to the black car that was parked at his curb. 

It took him a second, but then he was right behind you. "Ace! No, Baby, you don't understand." But it didn't look like you were listening as you dug the keys to your rental car out of your pocket. "Ace! Please!" He ran barefoot out onto the street to try to beat you to the car door, but you were too fast. When he reached for your hand and spun you around to face him, you had tears streaming down your cheeks. 

He was frozen, clinging to your hand as you whispered, "She's the bartender. I should have never come here."

"No," he begged, stepping into your personal space, but you kept dodging him. "It's nothing. I want you here. I need you here."

But you pulled your hand free and reached for the door handle as you sobbed, and it broke Bradley's heart. "I need to go."

He was ready to drop to his knees. "She doesn't mean anything, Ace! Please! I missed you too, Baby! I've been miserable without you, okay? You have no idea." 

You wouldn't even look at him now as you pushed him out of the way so you could climb in the car. He felt all of his dreams slipping through his fingers twice now as you slammed the door closed, started the engine and drove.

"Ace!" he shouted running alongside your door until you hit the accelerator and left him standing in the middle of his street without shoes on. "Ace. I love you," he whispered as you turned left at the end of his block, and then you were out of sight. 

Bradley sank down until he was squatting with his face buried in his palms. "Fuck!" he screamed, the sound only slightly muffled as he jumped up to his feet and made his way back to his house where Shannon was standing on his porch. She looked disgusted as another car pulled up in front of his house. 

"Why are we sleeping together if you're clearly in love with her?" she asked, barely looking at him as she headed toward her Uber. "You should go take care of that."

As Bradley watched her away, he tried to pinpoint exactly how he'd fucked all of this up. He wondered if there was any way to fix it. Once again, he couldn't breathe correctly as that crushing feeling returned to his lungs. This feeling has vanished for those few minutes he was with you again.

"Maybe you don't even deserve her," he told himself as he walked back inside alone, thinking about how for a minute there, you'd loved him back.

------------------------------

Oh, Bradley. Oh, you sweet thing. Should I add one more part? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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[tommytomatoe]

y’all all the love to erik, truly, but personally the merch is not for me. i’d love to support him but i wouldn’t be caught dead in some of those designs. that being said, here’s some merch ideas that i would spend all my money on if given the chance:

a western style belt buckle with the name collins engraved in it 

vintage style baby tee with the max’s rustic pizza logo on it

oversized black hoodie with the shaw security logo (he already has this, but make the logo smaller and just in the breast pocket area)

necklaces with the boys initials on them and a charm that goes with the character (example: the letter d and a set of angel wings for david and angel or the letter m and a small cat charm for milo and aggro)

rings shaped like porter’s character symbol 

journals with the boys symbols (there’s lots of writers in the community!)

a phone case that says “make it two”

the main issue is subtlety really. i love when merch doesn’t look like merch, but it still is valuable and meaningful to those in the community. i understand the cost of these would probably be too much, but still. i hope for future merch releases, if erik decides to do them, he’ll take this into consideration. 

[6esiree]

i just wanna say that ur gen z reader fic is absolutely amazing, i love reading over and over again bc husk is my favourite character, and me being gen z myself is making it better 💞

Husk was the first character I fell in love with!! Maybe it’s the daddy issues speaking but it’s just ugh, idk, I love everything about him, especially his voice. It’s so deep and rich and I would fucking melt if he whispered in my ear.

I also love how much of a grump he is. Ik if Husk had a partner that was Gen Z, he’d be smiling a lot more bc they would be a ray of sunshine in the dark, depressing world that is Hell.

Imagine…👇

- Making a Sinstagram for Husk. He only follows you and that’s it, ignoring everybody else when they start pestering him about him not following them back.

- The only time Husk opens the app is to look through the billion posts you sent him throughout the day, and even then you have to beg him to do so.

“Please watch them,” You say, Husk sighing in defeat when you pout.

“Fine—better be somethin’ funny.”

- Husk goes through all the videos you sent him with a straight face, but that’s only because he doesn’t understand Gen Z humor.

- Plus, all you do is send him cat or hamster posts with the caption “You and Me, Always Forever,” the only time he reacts to something you sent him being this:

- You’re just swinging your legs and giggling as a blush creeps up Husk’s neck. He watches it again to make sure that he hadn’t imagined the “🫵” LOLLL.

“Christ,” Husk shakes his head, putting his phone down.

“It’s my way of saying I love you.”

- Telling him the most random, out of pocket shit you can think of. It either makes him laugh or he looks at you in horror—there is no in between.

“Come over here and kiss me on my hot mouth, I’m feeling romantical,” You tell him, leaning over the counter.

- Husk recoils, and he doesn’t know whether to laugh or be embarrassed.

- Angel heard what you said to him and he’s down on the ground on his knees, holding his stomach and busting his ass off.

“So is that a no?”

- Husk massages his temples, resuming his work as if you had never asked him that.

- Wearing Y2K inspired clothing. You come down to the bar one day wearing a baby tee, lowrise jeans, and the strings of your thong showing on the sides.

- Husk immediately notices this, his mouth falling open as he spots the black strings hugging the sides of your waist.

“Hey, doll, I don’t mean to be…ya know,” Husk stuttered, approaching you from behind, his hands covering your sides. “You’re, uh, underwear is kinda showin’.”

“Oh, it’s the style! Do you like it?”

- The man blinks, wrapping his wings around you, pretending to give you a hug as the rest of the hotel’s residents come down.

“Christ, are ya tryin’ to get me hard?”

“Fine, I’ll go change then.”

(I will probably do this prompt with the rest of the characters btw 😼)

- Making Husk play Roblox with you. He thinks it’s stupid but as he lays his chin on your shoulder, watching you fail horribly at such a simple game, he decides to try it out.

- You’re actually trying to play an obby, which isn’t that hard. You just kept underestimating how far you jumped.

- Husk ends up giving up because he doesn’t really play games, especially on his phone. Plus, his own fingers keep getting in the way.

“I told you it’s not that easy—“

“It’s my fatass fuckin’ fingers!” Husk insists, his eyes glued to his phone, back slouching and all.

- Telling Husk “Nuh-uh.” He asks you to do a favor for him, but you decide to fuck with him first because you can.

“Nuh uh,” You say, watching his brows knit in confusion.

“What do ya mean, ‘Nuh uh,’” Husk repeats, “The fuck is that?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Come over here—“ Husk says, starting towards you, looking pissed off.

—

Anyway, that’s all my mind could come up with rn. I actually wrote sm the first time I saw your message, but tumblr just never uploaded it? I think it’s cuz I tried to refresh the app while my wifi was acting up 🗿 but yeah! I love Husk, and I also love imagining saying or doing the most random shit cuz it’s fun trying to predict how he’d respond LOL.

But TYSM FOR THAT!!! <33 and I’m so sorry for responding hella late. I’m not the biggest fan ofy first fics but I’m not taking them down cuz ik some of y’all love them.

[lingerina]

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 // day six

PROMPT ➛ aphrodisiac PAIRING ➛ g!p fallen angel!ningning x fem!reader WORD COUNT ➛ 1.1k words WARNINGS ➛ overstimulation, squirting, mating press, creampie SYNOPSIS ➛ after losing her wings, she falls prey to one of the seven sins: lust.

One mistake cost Yizhou her space in heaven.

It cost her connection to her loved ones and her life as she once knew. To look up at them and their ivory angel wings as they shouted for her brought her pain, and it would only hurt more when she looked over the scars on her back in the mirror where her own wings used to be. She would attempt to flutter them out of habit, only to find the barest flex of her upper back and stillness.

Life on Earth is nothing like her old home. The culture is diverse, as she has observed from dwelling amongst the continents. As beautiful as some parts are, Earth is still a dirty and dangerous place to trek. She’s barely assimilating into her mortal life, but her roommate is making it a little more peaceful to stay alive.

You are her peace, her mentor, her pillar. You are more than just her roommate.

But Yizhou still possesses some attributes of an immortal. Notably her strength and stamina when it comes to fulfilling her needs. Ever since losing her wings, she has rapidly succumbed to one of the seven sins–lust. 

She finds it in multiple women, using them thoroughly like ragdolls. Despite that, she still remains ravenous. Running through them is not enough. She needs more. Only now does she realize that the solution to her burning lust may just be the very pillar of support and tranquility that’s been living with her.

From the moment you sit next to her on the couch, Yizhou has her eyes on you like a hawk.

You enjoy tea, and she enjoys brewing it for you. Everyday is a new flavor. A new element. She had just brewed you one of your favorites: lychee jasmine with edible pearlescent glitter. 

You are familiar with the taste: the subtle sweetness, the floral notes, and the aroma of fruit as it hits your tongue. What you’re unfamiliar with is the fiery heat that swiftly overcomes you.

Unlike the warmth that hugs you like a weighted blanket, you’re struck with unbearable heat that runs through your veins and rushes down to your core. Tea has never given you this much discomfort. You have to set it back down on the coffee table and slouch back with a deep breath, unaware of the smug grin that’s marring your roommate’s pretty face.

The effects of the aphrodisiac are setting in much quicker than Yizhou had anticipated, and it’s beautiful to witness.

The change of expression on your face, your frequent fidgeting and shifting, your legs crossing and uncrossing. Your nipples are prominent through your thin, white tee, and she’s blessed to live with someone who is comfortable wandering around the residence with no pants. She’s even luckier that you’re wearing gray panties because she catches a glimpse of how wet you are in the midst of you crossing your legs again.

You sit like that for a minute as whatever trashy reality show playing on the TV has your attention.

And it’s a minute too long for Yizhou, who can’t hide her boner.

A pair of hands forcing your thighs open startles you out of your trance. Yizhou sinks to the floor, settles between your legs, and peers up at you with a smile after peeking at your crotch. “Something bothering you, darling?”

You swallow, not knowing what to do when her fingers press down on your clothed folds. The subtle pressure highlights just how soaked your panties are, and it’s embarrassing. You have never been so desperate for release. It’s gnawing at you, urging you to run to your room and seek relief with your toys.

But your roommate beats you to it.

She peels your soaked panties to the side, and you’re horrified to discover the thick threads of arousal separating the fabric from your skin. How could you have gotten so wet—so worked up—over nothing?

You shudder, your mouth falling open to a low moan as she dips two fingers in and shoves them knuckle deep inside you. Slow and steady pumps are blowing your mind, curling your fingers into a tight grip on the pleather cushion beneath you for security. You have never pictured being so intimate and filthy with Yizhou, but she is all that you have.

You need her.

You need her.

And she has always needed you.

As soon as her name comes out of your mouth, it flips a switch in her.

And she goes into overdrive.

You can’t get enough.

Yizhou has brought you to the moon and back, to heaven and hell and back, an obscene amount of times that you can’t count. The cushions beneath you are slick from the ample orgasms that she’s given you, yet she still has the stamina to fuck you again.

You’re flat on your back, completely used to her advantage and littered with marks and bruises courtesy of her mouth and grip. Your legs are pushed up against your chest, Yizhou’s hands on the back of your thighs pinning them up and practically folding you in half as her cock abuses your sensitive cunt for the nth time.

There is no end to your desire. Every release has you yearning for more, and the pain that should come with constant fucking has never aroused. You have never experienced this sensation before. One that burns so brightly in the pit of your stomach. You only know that no one can put the flames out except for her, and her cock is all that you need.

“So pretty,” she grunts between gritted teeth as she watches your eyes slowly roll back once more. “So fucked out. Because of me.”

Your slick walls close in around her but her powerful hips push through, coaxing broken cries and hitched breaths out of you. The resistance hints at another impending orgasm. 

To be able to bring you to this many new heights inflates her pride, fueling her strength to dismantle you all over again, and the room echoes with your cries as you fall victim to another climax. It spills like a broken dam, coating her cock in your arousal. Watching your pussy going through the rounds of assault from her veiny girth, but still accommodate her so well, triggers her own ecstasy.

She bottoms out, burying herself deep inside you. Her whiny moans mesh with throaty grunts as she draws back, then shoves back in, flooding your walls further with her release. She has fucked your brains out as she had promised because you can do no more than to lay there and be a vessel for her cum. 

The effects of the aphrodisiac have finally worn off because you swiftly doze off after she pulls out of you.

Finally, you’ve reached your ending point.

And finally, she can lay her unending lust to rest.

You needed her.

And she has always needed you.

[heartfullofleeches]

Incubus/Cupid Streamer Darling... Couldn't decide on one so you get both versions of this cutie

Incubus Darling - an idol of lust takes a different approach to their job by becoming a livestreamer and drawing their prey upon them as opposed to hastle of seeking foolish humans out themselves plus they don't have to actually touch any of them. They primarily focus on gaming and asmr - wearing as little clothing as guidelines will allow whenever they're on camera and post their various states of dress online to the hungry crowds.

They become a successful steamer with anything they could ever want thrown at them... which also includes things they don't. Stray messages pop up here and there of people confessing their love- not lust, to the demon. Wanting to take them out on romantic dates, wishing to grow old or even just hold hands with them. It confuses and shocks the devil to their core. They block these people, but they just make alt accounts and the cycle continues. The incubus' bewilderment is seen as the cutest thing to their audience so they dial back on the sexually charged flirting and compliment other assets they adore. Reader did not sign up for this, but it's all online so they should be fine. Until they find out they shouldn't click on every link that's sent to them

-

Yan Chat: I want you to [censored] my [censored] until I [censored]

Incubus Streamer: Yes... good...

Yan Chat: I want to us to have a spring wedding and grow old seeking no other comfort than being in each other's arm

Incubus Streamer: ... [dials the police]

-

Cupid Darling - A messenger of love that also takes a different approach to their job by becoming a livestreamer. Does gaming streams on week days and offers love advice on weekends. May not be as innocent as they seem to always forget to put on pants or wears tee shirts that are just a little too big/small - flashing the camera whenever they move to stand up.

They're the sweetest thing around, always encouraging their chat to go out and find true love when they've all found it right there in the form of their innocent angel. Gets so flustered and bashful from lustful comments their audience can't help up send in more and articles of themselves to help reader along. Poor cupid sits on their floor with boxes of used lingerie and photos around them and is very tempted to use their offerings, but feels so so dirty for giving in

-

Yan Chat: Cupid? I really need your help :( There's this cute person I've been interested in and I have no idea how to even speak to them

Cupid Reader: Well tell me a bit about them and maybe I can help!

Yan Chat: You might know them. They have the softest looking wings and the cutest little halo. Their voice is so cute too- I just want to hear them scream my name as I grab their waist and just-

Cupid Reader, Visibly sweating: God, pick me up - I'm scared

-

Both are heavily sponsored by adult toy sites/sent them from their audience, but the differences are funny to me

Cupid Streamer, holding a dildo: Oh my... This is almost as big as m.... y heart! Aha!

Incubus Streamer, holding a dildo: Meh- Mines bigger. Wanna see?~

[crazyunsexycool]

My Little Love

💖It's Valentine's Day 💖

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2.1K

warning: none this is just some pure fluff. Maybe Lottie trying to play cupid....

A/N: I wasn't going to write anything for Valentine's Day but I was inspired by @jvanilly 's ask so here it is.

Series masterlist

“Dada no wook.” Charlotte says loudly as she hides around the corner from the living room. 

“Should I close my eyes, doll?” 

“Yes, pwease.” 

“Ok, they’re closed.” Bucky says with a smile at whatever it is that Lottie is up to now. He can hear her footsteps although they’re light against the hardwood floors. 

“Ok wook it.” 

Bucky opens his eyes to find Charlotte standing in front of him wearing a white shirt with a big pink heart, a pink tutu and white fluffy wings that look like they belong to angels on her back. Her hair is up in a twist held up in a heart shaped clip.

“Who do we have here? Are you Cupid?” 

“Mmhhmmm. You wike it?” She asks as she does a spin for him to see the whole outfit. 

“You’re the prettiest Cupid I’ve ever seen, doll.” 

Lottie gets bashful and giggles at the compliment. 

“Habe suwpwise.” 

“For me?” 

Lottie nods her head and holds out a handmade card for him. It’s a heart cut out of red construction paper glued to a white piece of paper and so much glitter. 

“This is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Did you make this yourself?”

“Yeah.” She says shyly while looking up at him with those big blue eyes of hers. 

“Thank you, doll. I love it.” Bucky picks her up and gives her a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“Dada?”

“Yeah, doll?” 

“Dada be my vawentine?”

Bucky smiles down at his little girl. “I would love to be your valentine. Are you going to be mine?”

“Yeah. I be dada’s vawentine.”

“Good. Your first valentine’s day has to be special.” 

****

“Hi mama.” Henry said almost as soon as you stepped out of the master bedroom. 

“Hi sweet boy. What are you up to?” 

“Nothing. Well something.” Henry gives you a sheepish look. 

You narrow your eyes in his direction with a bit of suspicion. But his innocent smile let you know whatever he’s up to isn’t anything mischievous. Henry holds up a construction paper heart, and a few paper flowers. 

“Will you be my valentine’s mama?” 

“I would love to be your valentine.” You accept the flowers and the cards before giving him a hug. “Are you going to be my valentine’s too?”

Henry nods against your midsection before pulling away. 

“Well we have to make your first valentine’s day super special, sweet boy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

At Charlotte’s request you had curled her hair, pinning half of it up with heart shaped pins. You even let her wear a pink tinted lip balm and some soft pink eyeshadow. She was all smiles as she looked in the mirror. 

“Do you like it, sweet angel? You look beautiful.” You said from behind her. Looking at her through the mirror.

“Is so pwetty mama.” 

“I’m glad you like it. Now come on, let's get your dress and shoes on.”

“Kay.” Lottie hops off the stool she was sitting on and gets dressed up in her pink tulle dress with hearts all over. 

“Alright, I’m going to finish getting ready ok.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright bubs.” Bucky fixes the collar of Henry’s shirt so that it goes over his graphic tee. Then he smoothes out the cardigan Henry was wearing. “When we knock we give them the flowers and chocolates ok? Also remember to tell them how nice they look.”

“Yup.” 

“Let’s go get our girls then.” Bucky smiles as Henry grabs the flowers that he had picked out himself. 

Bucky follows suit and they walk out of Steve’s apartment where they went to get dressed. Giving you and Lottie privacy to have your own girl’s day as you got ready for the family date. 

At the door Henry knocks and waits for someone to answer the door. Lottie opens it with a huge smile on her face. It’s obvious she’s more than ready and excited for the evening. She lets Henry and Bucky in to wait for you to finish getting ready.

“Hi bubba. Hi dada.” She says. 

“Hi baby. You look so pretty.”

“Tank you bubba.”

“Hello my valentine. You look like a princess.” Bucky takes a knee. 

“Tank you dada.”

“These are for you.” Bucky holds out a small bouquet of flowers for her and a box of chocolates. 

Charlotte gasps as she takes her gifts. She buries her nose in the flowers and inhales just how she has seen you do so many times. 

“Is so nice dada, tank you.” 

“You’re welcome, doll.” 

You walk out a few minutes later, just as Bucky is putting Lottie’s flowers in a vase for her. He lets out a wolf whistle as he watches you reach the living room. You wore a red dress, the sleeves were short but puffy. The bodice hugged your curves and the skirt flared out with a slit up one leg. You smile over your shoulder at Bucky before turning your attention to Henry. 

“Hi my sweet valentine.” You tell him.

“Hi mama, you look very pretty.” 

“Thank you, sweet boy.” You smile before giving him a chaste kiss on his cheek. 

“These are for you.” 

Henry holds out a box of chocolate and a bouquet of flowers similar to Lottie’s, just a bit bigger. 

“They’re beautiful. Thank you so much. I love them. We have something for you too.” 

Lottie runs off into your room coming back with some boxes of candy for them as well. It’s obvious that Henry and Bucky weren’t expecting anything so it was nice to see their matching smiles.

“Here,” Bucky offers you a vase with water in it already. 

“Thanks baby.” 

You place the flowers in the vase and give him a kiss on the cheek. 

“We should get going.”

“Yeah,” Henry adds. “We have reservations.” 

“Oh you do?” 

“Yup. It's for our date.” 

“I thought we were just going to Tony’s party?” You look up at Bucky who is already helping Lottie into her coat. 

“Well it wouldn’t be a proper date if we didn't take our girls out first now would it?” 

You smile and grab something from your purse. When you stand in front of Bucky you place a red pocket square into his suit pocket. As usual he dressed in an all black suit and a more casual black t-shirt. The red added a little pop of color to tie in everyone’s outfit together. 

“Here mama.” Henry, following Bucky’s lead, holds out your coat.

“Well what a little gentleman.” 

You put on your coat and let them lead you and Lottie out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was still new, the four of you going out as a family. The kids were always excited going out to new places and experiencing new things. Bucky stopped the car at the entrance to the restuarant. The attendant makes his way over quickly to the driver’s side. Bucky steps out and gets the door for Lottie who was sitting behind him. Henry quickly gets out of his seat and gets out to open your door. 

“Thank you my sweet boy.”

“You’re welcome, mama.” He says as he takes your hand. 

The four of you walk into the building. Before you can say anything Henry steps up to the hostess stand.

“Hi ma’am.”

“Hello, how may I help you?” The young woman asks with a smile.

“We have a reservation under Barnes.” 

You couldn’t help but beam as Henry started to get more comfortable interacting with strangers. 

“I see the reservation for four people here. Please follow me.” The young woman walks you through the restaurant to a booth in the back. “Enjoy your evening.”

Lottie sits with Bucky and you sit with Henry. While the restaurant is full of couples you wouldn’t trade being here with the kids. You knew you’d share more than enough one on one time with Bucky later. The four of you have the time of your life at the restaurant. The kids try new foods and get loved on by you and Bucky. They also have the attention of the server that’s taking care of your table. She makes sure to ask them questions, getting the most interesting questions out of Lottie for sure. You can’t help but look across to Bucky and share that magic little moment in which you both relish in being able to enjoy this moment with them. Soon enough though dinner is over and you head back to the tower. 

~~~~~~~~~

Before heading to the party Charlotte insists on going back to the apartment for her cupid getup. Soon enough there’s a four year old running into the main living room with wings and bow and arrow. Her first stop of course is her favorite person ever.

“Steebie am cupid.” She says as he picks her up. 

“And a very cute cupid at that.” 

“Hi.” Lottie calls out to Bruce’s assistant. 

“Hello Charlotte. You look very pretty in your dress.” 

“Tank you. You pwetty too, wight Steebie?” Steve goes beet red in an instant.

“Of course. Your dress is very pretty.” Steve looks at her.

“No Steebie.” Charlotte sends a small glare in his direction. Lottie says her name, “Is pwetty.”

“Please don’t.” She mutters.

“No is kay. Steebie?”

“Yes, you are very pretty.” 

She opens her mouth ready to sass him back but decides against it due to Lottie’s enthusiasm. 

“Thank you, Steve.” 

Lottie feels as if she’s done her job so she wiggles her way out of Steve’s arm’s and does her usual round through the party. 

****

Bucky holds you close as he leads you in a dance. One hand around your waist, the other holding yours against his chest. His cheek rests against your temple. Both of your eyes are closed as he hums along to the song. 

“Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose.

When you kiss me heaven sighs

And though I close my eyes

I see la vie en rose.”

You smile as Bucky continues to serenade you. The song ends but another quickly starts up. Your dancing is interrupted though. 

“Daddy, mama is my valentine. I should be dancing with her.” Henry looks up at him, arms crossed over his chest.

“Ok, ok. Do you happen to know where your sister is?” 

Henry points to the other end of the room. You and Bucky look over to find Charlotte sitting on the bar sharing a cupcake with Sam and laughing. 

“I guess I’ll go get my valentine. Thanks for the dance, Sugar.” Bucky gives you a quick kiss.

“Wanna dance mama?”

“I would love to.” You say as Henry takes your hands and swaying side to side.

****

“Is so yummy Sammy.” Lottie holds up a cupcake with red frosting up for Sam to try. 

Sam narrows his eyes in her direction causing Lottie to giggle. “Are you trying to play a joke on me?” 

“Noooooo. Habe some.”

“Ok.” Sam leans in to take a bite out of the sweet treat but Lottie boops him in the nose with it leaving frosting behind. She throws her head back laughing while Sam playfully grumbles. 

“Is so funny.” 

“Oh you think that's funny?” Sam asks and Lottie nods. “What if I do this?” He takes a big bite of the cupcake she had in her hand. “No cupcake for you.” 

Charlotte is a giggling mess as she grabs another treat from the tray Sam had taken just for them. 

“Are you trying to steal my doll?” Bucky asks as he walks up to them. 

“Maybe I am.” 

“Habe one dada?” Lottie holds up another cupcake for him. He’d seen what she did to Sam and was sure she’d do the same to him. But the laughter was worth a little bit of red frosting on his nose. 

“I would love one.” 

Lottie pulls at the cupcake liner with heart designs on them, then offers it up to Bucky. He’s surprised when Lottie doesn’t try to get the frosting on him so he just eats it.

“Hey,” Sam says with a faux annoyed expression. “Why didn’t you get him?” 

“Dada my vawentine.” She looks up at her dad with so much love that it makes him weak in the knees. 

“Yeah Sam, I’m her Valentine’s go get your own.” He looks back at his little girl. “Wanna dance, Doll?” 

“Yes, pwease.” 

Lottie gives Sam a kiss on the cheek before going into her father’s arms. Bucky walks over to the dance floor and begins to sway. Not too far from him, you stand with Henry in your own dance. You catch each other’s eye and smile. He mouths an I love you which you return. 

All in all it was a very good Valentine’s Day. 

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[water-loos]

All American Bitch !

“I’ve got sun in my motherfucking pocket, best believe”

player!steve harrington x fem!reader

series masterlist ; next chapter

cw: college au, alcohol consumption, tipsy sexual acts, smut implied (fade to black), angst, swearing, steve’s a dick

wc: 3.5k

a/n: this is a very shitty first installment but i promise it’ll make sense eventually

You didn’t plan on going to any Halloween parties. You never did. You thought the holiday was stupid, and just an excuse to drop way too much money on multiple costumes that only covered about a third of your body.

But that little lacy white slip dress that you found in the racks of a thrift store last weekend fit you too perfectly.

And the angel wings that you used for a photo shoot in May had been sitting lonely in your closet for far too long.

And you did consider Romeo + Juliet to be your favorite movie of all time.

That’s how you found yourself climbing the steps of a brownstone just north of Chicago, your hair tied back into a pretty half-up-half-down hairdo. Your makeup was flawless, even with your pink cheeks due to the biting wind and the plethora of shots that your friends had fed you before the train ride up from the city. The party itself was pretty packed just inside the door, with a box TV playing Scream as people mingled right in front of the screen. You pushed your way through the mass of people into the dining room, where a pair of plastic tables with holes sawed in them for cups were manned by tens of people in various costumes.

You craned your neck to look for a way to the kitchen, which was down a long hallway that was probably the only open portion of the house. Your friend Alexandra trailed behind you, eyeing the pong table as you attempted to drag her with you.

“Do you just want me to get you a drink?” You sighed as she nearly got caught in the crowd once more. “You don’t have to come with if you don’t want to.”

“Can I stay? That guy in the Risky Business costume seems a little lonely at the table if you know what I mean,” She winked, squeezing your hand. You rolled your eyes and squeezed back, letting her go. She kissed your cheek joyfully before bouncing over to him, her fairy wings sparkling almost as much as the tinsel in her hair.

As soon as she bounded away, you turned on your heel to the hallway, pushing past a few couples that were making out against the wall to get into the tiny kitchen. The keg took up a decent amount of space in the corner, a stack of red solo cups perched on the windowsill next to it. The thought of putting beer anywhere near your body was enough to make you gag, so you pivoted to the corner, where a punch bowl, a bottle of Captain Morgan, and some more solo cups lay, glittery green liquid splashed everywhere.

Beer, or mystery punch.

Great.

You opted for a heavy pour of the white rum and two ladles of the green punch before you pushed your way back into the hallway, but took a sharp right toward the staircase and the basement, where the dance floor must have been.

That’s where you saw him.

Steve Harrington, hair perfectly coiffed and cheetah print vest hanging open over his too-tight white tee. You knew who he was— he was notorious across most of the Chicago colleges and universities, known for his looks and his kilowatt smile. You shared a few classes and tended to think he was an egotistical douchebag who didn’t know what he was talking about half the time.

But god did his arms look good enough to bite in that shirt.

One big gulp of the drink in your hand was enough to push you toward him, chin held high in the air as you sauntered in his direction, catching him just as the girl he was talking to walked off in search of another drink.

“Ferris Bueller,” You said, voice dipped in faux sugar. “How fitting, Harrington.”

“Juliet,” He immediately smiled down at you, his shoulder falling to rest on the wall beside the two of you. “To what do I owe the absolute pleasure of seeing you? I thought you weren’t really into Halloween.”

“I’m not normally,” You nodded, maintaining eye contact over your cup as you turned to let your back rest on the wall. “But this costume was just too cute to leave hanging in my closet, don’t you think?”

You watched with a smug smile as his eyes raked down your body, slowly taking you in. You could see his gaze catch on the body glitter you had applied along your chest and shoulders, a warm blush spreading across your cheeks as he hummed his approval. “Definitely. It’s a shame, though.”

You watched as he flicked your left wing, caging you against the wall. Unfazed, you looked up at him with doe eyes, lashes fluttering. “What’s a shame, Stevie?”

You watched his front crumble, a rosy blush spreading over his freckled cheeks. He was put under your spell way too easily, and you could almost feel his ego bruising as he gathered himself from the momentary pause. “It’s a shame that it’d look about ten times better on my bedroom floor.”

You were moving a little fast, but your impulse control was left back in your apartment, miles away. It’s almost like your body was moving quicker than your brain was. Your hand smoothed up the front of his vest, adjusting it against his tee. “D’you think about my clothes on your floor often, Stevie? I’m flattered.”

“More than you know, sweetheart,” He huffed, standing up straight and taking your free hand in his. “Let’s find somewhere more private, yeah?”

“You’re so cute when you’re eager,” You pouted, pounding back the rest of your drink, gracefully putting the cup down on the ground beside you. “You’ve gotta dance with me first, Harrington.”

You kept your fingers intertwined as you pulled him down the stairs and toward the dance floor, which was packed wall to wall with dancing people, with colorful strobe lights flashing across the room. You watched the boy chug the last of his beer and toss the crushed cup behind him, his body not far behind yours as you made your way to the center of the floor. The electric beat of a techno song that you couldn’t name bleated around you as you began to sway back and forth, eyes on the boy who had followed you. He looked downright delectable in this lighting— his skin almost glistened under the lights, his hair slightly tousled, and his chest heaving as he watched you.

You two didn’t last long on the dance floor.

Only two or three songs passed before you were tugged down the back hallway of the basement and pressed against the door of the hidden bathroom in the corner. Steve wasted almost no time in connecting your lips, the lingering taste of beer bitter on his tongue as it danced with your own. Your hands wandered across his shoulders and up to the curled ends at the back of his hair, tugging gently as he moaned softly into this kiss. His hands held one of your legs up around his hip while the other pushed at your lower back, leaving very little space between the two of you. Your head lolled against the wood behind you as his kisses trailed down your exposed neck, nipping soon-to-be lavender bruises down across the glittery skin.

“You know,” He huffed into your neck, gripping the soft skin of your hip. “Been waiting for you since you destroyed me in our debate project.”

“Oh I know, baby,” You breathed out a laugh as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot behind your ear. “D’you get off to that? Being shown up in front of everyone?”

He bit down harder then, enticing a squeal out of you. “Only when it’s you.”

You try not to scoff as he pulls back, watching your face. It’s evident that you don’t believe him, but he doesn’t say anything about it. “Oh really?”

“Really.”

You hum, tilting your head back up for another kiss as your hand trailed across the sliver of skin that peeked out between his white tee and his dark blue jeans. “You promise?”

His throat bobbed and his cheeks grew pink as he watched your hand dip lower and lower, fingertips ghosting over the obvious bulge in his pants. “Promise. On my life, sweetheart.”

You’d never seen Steve Harrington a nervous mess before, but you decided right then and there that it was your favorite version of him. It was easy to nudge him a little further into the room so his hips hit the counter of the vanity, and even easier to drop to your knees in front of him. He sighed at the sight of you, with big doe eyes and angel wings, staring up at him with your best innocent look.

“This okay?” You whispered, hands placed on the front of his thighs, waiting for his verbal confirmation. You watched as his chest heaved, and he nodded, but you shook your head. “Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear,” A hand, big against your face, came to cradle your cheek, his eyes dilated as he stared down at you. “Are you sure? You don’t have to…”

“I wouldn’t be on my knees if I didn’t want to, Stevie,” You snorted, one hand reaching up to pop the button of his jeans and slowly pull down the zipper. “Pinky swear.”

———

You started seeing Steve around a lot more after that weekend. By mid-January, he suddenly had more friends in your apartment complex, he sat right beside you in all three of the classes you shared this semester, and he had taken it upon himself to walk you back to your apartment or the student center after every single one. Alexandra started to call him your shadow, and she had even started keeping a six-pack of Miller High Life’s in the fridge for him, just so he’d have something to drink and every pregame party your friends threw.

He spent most nights in your bedroom, actually.

He snuck in as soon as you heard Alex close her bedroom door and put on her LED lights, and he knew the code to get into your building by heart. He knew that your door squeaked, and he mastered exactly how to open it to make the least amount of noise. Most of the time he found you in bed, glasses and an oversized hoodie on, scrolling on your phone as you waited for him. Some nights, he’d crawl in beside you and ask you about your day, maybe he’d joke with you about how stupid your teacher was, or how he thought you did great on a presentation, and others he’d waste almost no time in pulling your phone from your hand and pinning you to your mattress.

Tonight had been the latter.

Most of the time it made you feel like shit when there was barely any greeting, even if he tried to make it up to you by taking you for a drive in his car. “Taking you for a drive” consisted of buying you a milkshake, asking you all of your deepest secrets, and then eating you out in the backseat of that goddamn maroon BMW. But, after months of the same thing, you felt like a milkshake was better than nothing.

You laid across the backseat, warm and almost cuddling into the hoodie you had stolen from him last week, and nothing covering your legs besides the panties he had so gently put back on your body. God forbid you made a mess of his leather seats. He was sitting on the end, hands tracing your face as you tried to steady your breathing and recover.

“Y’know, we should go to the library to study for that quiz this week,” He said, voice gravelly. “I’m a little worried with how little she’s preparing us.”

“Ooh, a location change,” You hummed, sarcasm whispering in your tone. “I‘ll go. When do you want to?”

His hand stilled. “What do you mean?”

Your chest tightened. “It’s a joke, Stevie. We just haven’t been to the library together before.”

He let his head lean back on his headrest, his face stilling. “You know that I don’t mean anything bad by that, right?”

“What, that we don’t really go anywhere together?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Oh, I don’t care,” You shrugged, lying through your teeth. “I like what we do together now. It’s like a nightly routine. Helps me sleep better.”

He chuckled and started to trace around your hairline again. “Really?”

“Yeah. Having my own personal radiator in my freezing apartment is heaven.”

He snorted, softly whacking your shoulder. “I’m not that hot.”

“Half of the student body would disagree with you.”

“Oh, come on. That’s not true.”

“Steve. Lying is not going to get you anywhere,” You sat up, scooting closer to face him. “I think you might want to look in a mirror. Besides, everyone knowing you’re hot doesn’t really bother me.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Why would it?”

You stop, taken aback. “I mean, I’m the one whose bed you’re in almost every night. Everyone else who drools over you doesn’t get that honor.”

Steve goes rigid, and you can tell something’s bothering him. You can tell by the way he refuses to make eye contact with you that whatever he’s thinking is not going to be very nice to you.

It’s silent for a moment.

“Just say it.”

“What?”

You reach onto the floor in front of you and slide on the sweatpants you had been wearing. You set your jaw and dare to look in his direction. “Say the thing you’re thinking about. Even if it’s going to make me upset. I’d rather you be upfront than sit here in silence, Steve.”

“We’re not together.”

“I know.”

“Then don’t talk about us like we are.”

Your chest squeezes.

“I don’t.”

“You literally just did.”

“Saying you’re in my bed every night doesn’t mean shit, Steve,” You scoff, grabbing the Converse you had haphazardly shoved on your feet on the way out and pulling them on. “I was just stating the truth. You’re the one who texts me for our nightly booty call, remember?”

“And you always answer. C’mon, sweetheart,” He almost whines, reaching over to turn you back toward him. “You’re not a booty call. You never have been.”

“Then what am I, Steve? Your friend?” You bite back, pulling your arm from his gentle grasp.

“No. You’re not just a friend, you know that,” He says, watching mournfully as you open the back door and step out of the car. Your cheeks are still warm from the orgasm he’d pulled from you almost twenty minutes ago.

“Yeah, I’m your fuck buddy who’s at your every beck and call. I know what I am, Steve,” You scoff and close the door behind you as he quickly pops out of the opposite side. Your hand pulls on the passenger side, opening it, but still addressing him over the car. “I’m not fucking stupid, in case you’ve already forgotten.”

“When you say it like that it sounds bad.”

“Steve, you literally have done nothing tonight but walk into my room, fuck me, buy me a consolation milkshake, and then fuck me again in your car. You don’t even know anything about me,” You snap, hand white-knuckle gripping the door. “What’s my favorite color? What’s my favorite food? The cat that curls at your feet every night, what’s her name?”

He didn’t answer. Just looked down at his feet.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” You say lowly and duck into the car, almost slamming the door behind you. He follows after a few moments, getting into the car slowly and quietly. “Take me home. Please.”

“Babe—“

“Don’t.”

He doesn’t argue as he starts the car and pulls out of the heavily wooded parking lot that you always went to. The drive was only fifteen minutes, but it was spent in excruciating silence as you quietly picked at the clear compartment of your wallet, attempting to remove your ID in order to get the Polaroid that lived behind it out. It was a sweet picture of you and Steve at your birthday party back in November, where you had been wearing matching sunglasses and had been looking at each other and laughing. It was your favorite picture ever taken, and he had said it was his too.

Once you pulled up to your apartment, you were quick to open the door and stand outside of the doorway. You dropped the Polaroid onto the seat and reached to grab the edge of his hoodie.

You were done.

You pulled off the yellow hoodie, his cologne dripping from the threads as you dropped it on the seat. You were freezing in the flimsy tank you had been wearing underneath, but you tried not to let it bother you as you slammed the door and finally walked away.

You didn’t hear him call after you, even as you slowly punched in the code. He had driven off before you stepped through the threshold.

You were crying by the time you made it into your actual apartment, the door still unlocked from earlier. You locked the door for the first time in months and practically stomped into your room, the door squeaking loudly behind you as you shut it. It was easy to flop into bed, and even easier to sob harder when you smelled him all over your comforter.

You wallowed for all of five minutes before Alex came in, teary-eyed from sleep, but with a knowing look on her face.

“Did you finally end it?”

You sniffled.

“Aw, babe,” She tutted and laid beside you in bed, reaching over to rub your shoulder. “It’ll be okay. He’s just a man.”

“I just don’t get how all of this time means nothing to him. Nothing! He’s here almost every night and he can’t even tell me what I am to him.”

“It’s just what he does. He’s known for being a whore, and that’s exactly what he is— a whore.”

“A whore who’s been leading me on for almost three months,” You replied pathetically, putting your hands over your face as you cried harder. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re literally the smartest, kindest, and most fun person I know. The fact that he can’t see that has nothing to do with you— it has to do with the fact that he’s just not a good person,” Alex defended, climbing off the bed to pull you to your feet. “You’re a great person, and everyone you’ve ever met loves you. You’re gorgeous, fun, and hilarious. He’s going to come crawling back on his hands and fucking knees, babe.”

You sadly smile at her, and wipe the tears from your face. “Thank you, Alex. I don’t think you’re right about the last part, but I’ll try to believe you about the rest.”

“We’ll make him regret he ever treated you like this. I promise.”

You and she linked pinkies, kissing the other end of your hands as you did so.

“I’ll make sure he regrets it. He deserves to feel just as shitty as I do right now.”

“Damn straight!”

[stargazingsims]

2000s Lookbook: Erica Bachelor-Kane (Part 2)

Helia Hair by greenllamas

Sinope Bracelets by candysims

Sun Halter Empire Top by kiarazurk

Demure Belly Button Piercing by pralinesims

Belted Turquoise Jeans by simlaughlove

Faith Tee by sentate

Brisa Bikini by ciao-cc

Lower Back Tattoo Pack 01 by mickimagnum

Spectacularly Low Jeans by plumberrycc

Magnolia Mules by greenllamas

Shiloh Hair by okruee

Plumbob Necklace by kumikya

Halter Peplum Shirred Top by aasymcc

Selina Diamond Bracelet by rustys-cc

Taylor Top by serenity

Juliana Bra by serenity

Ocean Bikini by ciao-cc

Belted Bootcut Jeans by simlaughlove

Fallen Angel Wings by kaguya-fox

Dina Hair by daylifesims

Un-Rosaried by deathpoke1qa

Lydia Corset by sentate

Inessa Stockings by sentate

Kayla Necklace by arethabee

Accessory Shirt by solistair

Laney Skirt by arethabee

Na-Ra Garter by trillyke

Giovanna Tights by magbay

Tanya Pumps by mortimergth

Nair Hair by kiarazurk

F Necklace 01 by jarisimcc

F Earrings 01 by jarisimcc

Portia Dress by sentate

Maiden Necklace by serenity

Ayesha Top by sentate

Seqoia Skirt by greenllamas

Emily Wedges by candysims

Boba Tea Hat by joliebean

Glimpse Necklace by joliebean

Alex Top by aharrisxayoshi

Jade Jeans by sentate

SP13 Clip Claw Updo Roots by stargazingsims

Comfy Oversized Tee by nucrests

(General resources: Nail It! Nails by joliebean, Sweetener Gloss by crypticsim)

[i-love-scarameowche]

Content Warning ⛈️: First time writing smut. Fluff and smut. Vaginal penetration, fingering, unprotected sex(I forgot condoms existed), bleeding from an injury. Reader is referred to as "girl" once or twice. Fem bodied reader! Not proofread (I can't reread my own works I'm too embarrassed)

Summary🔎: When some random guy basically crash landed in your back yard, you certainly weren't expecting this.

Ft. Fallen angel Toji

Words: 2k

After a crash comes from your backyard, it's reasonable to say that you were pretty concerned. It woke you up at like, 3am! You want to beat whatever caused that's ass! But, you're still scared.

You groan, it woke your cat too! Now the little fucker's running around. You sigh, getting out of bed. "Calm down you lil' rat." You say, as you pick up your cat, Ash. You pet and kiss his head but he just struggles to get out of your arms, so you set him back down. You're just wearing a random baggy t-shirt and some shorts.

You walk out of your room, Ash trotting after you shortly after you leave. Walk to your kitchen, you have a rather small house, 2 rooms, 1 bathroom. You look out the kitchen window into your backyard. Fearing that you'll actually see something. It's too dark to see outside. You walk to the door to your backyard, Ash rubbing and headbutting against your legs.

You flick on the light switch and open the door. The light outside it on now, you look past your screen door and see...

What the fuck?

Why is there a random guy in your backyard?

Why does he have wings???

The guy seems pretty beat, rubbing and holding his head with a groan. He's sitting in a small crater. What the actual hell? You open your screen door, walking outside to make sure Ash doesn't get out. "What're you doin' in my damn backyard!?" You yell, looking at the man. His eyes look up at you, before narrowing in a glare. "Shut..up." The man grumbles, starting to stand. The man's.. attractive. You can give him that.

His pretty, forest green eyes, and his charming jet black hair. He's tall, and he looks extremely strong. Which causes him to be, well, intimidating. And it almost stops you from speaking but, this is your house. "Yer in my backyard! Don't tell me to shut up!" You yell, now scowling. "Tch...you're too loud.." The man grumbles, His legs slightly trembling but he manages to stand. "Yeah!? And what the hell're you s'posed t'be? Some cosplayer!?" You yell once again, this time raising your voice louder on purpose.

The man shoots you a glare, your mouth goes a little dry, and you almost shut up.

"Ugh, where am I anyways?" The man sighs, to which you quickly snap at him. "I just said that you're in my backyard!" You yell again, quickly regaining your attitude. "Stop yellin', loudmouth!" The man with greyish wings says, taking a step towards you, to which you quickly step back, your hand finding it's way to the door knob of your screen door.

You step on something, a rock you think. It hurts a little, since you're barefoot. You glance down and kick the small rock away, still scowling. When you look up, the man is closer, now on the concrete of your backyard. Your hand twists the doorknob open, but you notice the man holding his head, he's bleeding. Despite being rude sometimes, you still don't want to be really rude. "D'you.." You clear your throat as the man looks up at you. "D'ya wanna come inside?" You ask, the man, hesitates, before begrudgingly nodding.

So, it's been a few days since then, and now you have a roommate. And you've learned his name is Toji Fushiguro.

"Go away." You groan, laying in bed. "Nope." Toji hums, also laying in your bed. "S'my bed asshole. Yer in my house, listen to me." You sigh, rolling onto your side to look at him. "Nope." He says again. His arms are behind His head and his eyes are closed. His wings are tucked under himself, they're a light grey to white and they're fluffy. He's wearing some casual clothes, sweats and a black tee-shirt p. You move and try to kick him off your bed. It doesn't work. You groan and get out of bed, it's 6pm. Ash curls up beside Toji, causing Toji to pat his head. You're probably gonna go get some food. Maybe takeout or something. "Where're ya goin'?" He asks, opening one eye to look at you in the doorway. "T'get some food." You say, glancing back at Him.

"Well damn, get me some too." Toji says, closing his eyes once more before rolling onto his side. You sigh and roll your eyes before walking out of the- your -room.

"What the fuck?" You're confused. Why's your damn bathroom a mess? And why is Toji just sitting on the edge of your bathtub? Why is he only in a towel?? "Shut up, y'r bathroom is too damn small." He says, scoffing. His wings are wet. Like, really wet. You laugh. "Awh, does poor baby need help?" You mock him, he shoots you a glare in return, as usual, through his dripping hair, covering some of his face. "Fine, you want help? Then don't be an asshole." You say, walking into your bathroom. He scoffs and stands up, "Nothin' I can promise." he shrugs. "Shut up." You say, walking to the bathtub. You drain the water and then refill it with pretty warm water. And bubbles, of course. Who doesn't like bubbles? And, maybe it's to make it so you can't see into the water as easily.

Toji waits, he looks irritated, but, well, of course he does. "Alright, get in," You gesture to the bath. "I fuckin' tried that already." Toji grumbles. You sigh. "Yeah, well, it's your wings right? So like..try to keep them up or somethin'?" You say, lightly shrugging as you look up at Toji, who's currently standing up with his arms crossed over his bare chest, and you're sitting on your knees on the floor.

"Fuckin' fine I'll try that." Toji grumbles and you turn away as he gets into the bath. Eventually, you look back at him. Your bath seems a little too small for him. Your face gets a little warm from seeing Toji bare chest, and the knowledge that he's fully naked in your bath.

"Uhm, so, d'you need help with..anything?" You say, looking at Toji. "Just my damn back." Toji grumbles, moving a little closer to the now turned off faucet, signaling for you to help him. "Oh alright," You murmur, sitting up on your knees and leaning over the bath. You get a bar of soap and a loofa, getting it ready before slightly scrubbing Toji's back. You try to be careful around his wings, you don't know how sensitive they are.

You start with his upper back, as he waits for you to be done. You eventually decend to his middle back before you hear him speak up. "Y'wanna wash my front too?" You can hear the smirk in Toji's voice.

"What?" You say, thinking you heard him wrong. You don't even know him that well.

"What, ya can't do it? Too much of a pussy? Alright," Toji shrugs, and you take that as a challenge, although in reality, you do really wanna do it. "I'm not a pussy, asshole!" You grumble, taking up and looking down at Toji. "Alright, then take of yer clothes and get in with me." Toji says. You scoff, roll your eyes, but move to slip off your shirt, pants, and underwear.

You can feel Toji staring at you, through you. You feel your body getting hot. You notice Toji moving back a little and gesturing for you to get in the bath. You do, slipping into the bath whilst slightly covering yourself. He holds your hips, putting you on his lap. You try to not look down, and stare up at Toji's face. His hand moves to peel your arm away from your chest, before pausing. "This alright with ya?" Toji says, glancing up at you.

You nod, before murmuring a small yes. Toji's smirk widens a little, as you allow him to take your arms from your chest, and his hand moves to start to lightly need your breasts. You feel his other hand moving down from your hip, to your core.

You put your arms around his neck. His large, rough middle finger starts to tease you, causing light whimpers to spill from your lips. His index finger soon starts to enter you, slowly moving in and out of you before he adds his middle in. He starts to move his hand a little faster, his rough thumb expertly moving to rub your clit. "Mm, Toji," You lightly moan, moving to attach your lips to his.

It surprises him a little, making him pause in his movements, you think you did something wrong, but Toji quickly reciprocates the kiss, his fingertips moving to lightly pinch and play with your nipple, his hand quickly continuing to play with you. You cup his cheek, tilt your head, and move a little closer to him on his lap.

You feel his hard on press against your stomach, causing yourself to get wetter. You pull away from the kiss to catch your breath, you feel that knot in your stomach building up. "Nhh.. Toji," You murmur, causing Toji to pinch your nipple a little harder. "Yeah, sweet girl?" Toji says, continuing to use his fingers to stretch out your wet pussy, his thumb presses hard on your clit, before moving again, drawing another moan out of you. You feel the knot in your stomach about to snap.

"Don't-.. I-I mean.. I wanna.." You clear your throat from embarrassment. "I wanna cum on your..um.." You struggle finding the words. "Take yer time," Toji says, his smirk changing to a shit-eating grin. Your anger bubbles up a little again. "Fuck me Toji!" You grumble, your hands clenching into fists as you continue to hug Toji's neck.

"All ya had t'do was ask," Toji hums, thrusting his fingers into you one last time before taking them out of your core, making you frown a little from being empty, but excited, knowing what's coming. He picks you up but your hips, aligning you above his dick. He slowly lowers you down, you let out a breathy gasp, your hands finding place on his shoulders. You've never really seen Toji's dick before, so you aren't sure how large it is, but it feels big. Bigger than you've taken before.

The tip is in, and he continues to lower you down, trying to be gentle, though, know he's making small noises himself. The stretch burns a little, and you try to relax yourself to make it easier. Eventually, he bottoms out. You're not too tight around him, but you still need to adjust. He feels you clench around him as he makes a small movement. "Please- Move.." You choke out, causing that shit-eating grin te reform on Toji's face.

"What, already dumb on my cock and I haven't even moved yet," Toji coos mockingly, but starts to slowly pick your hips up, moving you up and down on him. He feels you move your hips as well. "I'm not dumb, asshole-" You say, but get cut off by a moan, you tuck your head into the nape of Toji's neck as he starts to slightly thrust his own hips up, as well as picking up the pace of him using your hips, he uses his thumb to massage your clit again.

"So-" Toji grunts. "I'm the asshole 'ere, but m'bein' nice and fuckin' ya, should I just stop then?" Toji says with faux concern. "No!" You spit out, causing you to feel embarrassed. "Please.. don't stop.." You moan into Toji's neck. "S'what I thought." Toji hums, moving faster now, causing the water around you to splash, but neither of you mind it getting your floors wet.

"Fuck..Toji!" You squeal, feeling your orgasm coming. "Shit," Toji grunts, feeling your walls clench around him and your fingernails digging into his back muscles before you cum on his cock, your walls spasming as he continues to move through your orgasm.

After you finish Toji feels himself almost done as well, so he continues to move, leaning down to suck and bite at your neck. "Shit shit shit! Inside.. fuck..please!" You moan, your arms around Toji's neck tighten. You feel Toji's movements stutter, before he shoots his load into you, his hands on you relaxing, and he pulls out.

"Was that good, princess?" Toji smirks, looking at you. You shyly nod before Toji gets up and out of the bath, picking you up and putting you down outside of it. "Go take a piss or whatever n'I'll finish washin' myself up." Toji grumbles, grabbing the loofa from out of the bathtub. You nod, and, although feel embarrassed, you go to the bathroom.

Toji's laying beside you in bed, an arm over you you're pulled close to his chest. "G'night." Toji grumbles. "Night.." You respond. Guess someones takeout got cold that night.

(Note, this absolutely sucks ngl)

[euniexenoblade]

need help deciding between two outfits for a party. on the left we have my tentacle skirt + cringe anime tee, collar, a black and pink vibe on the the right we have "a girl without a dick is like an angel without wings" shirt, black pants, necklace, just an all black vibe.

[hotluncheddie]

stop being a goblin and let me kiss you

part 5

˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ⁎⁺˳✧༚

‘fucking steveeeee harrington. fucking i just like hearing you talk about it eddie. i like listening to you eddie. i’m actually amazing and perfect in every way eddie. no no don’t mind me i’ll just make your heart melt out of your ass with how sweet i am and then give you a boner like it’s nothing and then act like these are all none issues for you and you’ll live to see another day!’ eddie grumbles, kicking a rock into the dark recesses of the trailers underbelly.

he shoves his toe into the hole the rock left and glances back at steve’s idling car.

steve is looking somewhere distinctly below eddies eye-line, mouth a little slack. but when he notices eddie looking he perks up, waves like they haven't just spent the last four hours together, like eddie didn't just get out of his car.

fucking dork. you’ve fallen for a dork munson what is this? who are you?.. a fucking ex jock dork.. who listens… and is kind and hot.. and was just looking at your ass.

ugh. ugh!!

eddie stomps closer to the trailer.

the little angel version of himself appears on his shoulder. christ not this guy, always bad advice with this one. 'he likes you, you like him, what's the problem?' little angel eddies little white wings flutter, his little halo glints. eddie growls to himself, yeah what is the problem? maybe the problem is that it’s steve. it’s steve and we’re eddie and that just isn’t gonna fly!

thankfully the little devil version is on the other shoulder. now this is the guy he normally gets good advice from, stuff he can follow.

'the problem is that this is steve harrington'

exactly little devil eddie! 'exactly!'

'and he probably has a big dick and you do not know how to handle that.'

oh my god.

'oh my god' eddie mumbles, scrubbing and hand over his face, tugs at his hair. little devil eddie leans on his little pitchfork, making a very obscene hand and cheek gesture.

'better to big dick than not dick at all right?' angel eddie is not helping. not helping!! ‘plus it’s steve! we know steve! he’s nice!’

and eddie softens, arms slack at his side because yeah, steve is nice.

he thinks about how steve would come see him at the trailer all the time because he was always over at max’s helping. about how he really did mean it when eddie could rent on his employee account so they could watch together and save eddie the money. or how when eddie was in the hospital, all tubed up feeling like day old baloney, steve managed to pull a little smile out of wayne, asking him about eddie as a kid and who he’s rooting for in the series.

god, fucking, damn it!!

eddie takes a deep breath. rubs at his eyes so he sees the red goo of his brain.

…come on munson. we promised ourself. no more running.

whirling around eddie bounces on his toes, fist gripping the front of his tee. says a little too loud and a little strangled. ‘you don’t, uh, you don’t wanna come in for a bit do you?’

steve jumps, getting out the car and locking it quick, dipping to smooth his hair down in the side mirror before strolling over to eddie. he spins his keys around on one finger and follows eddie up the little stairs to the trailer door.

lifting one arm up to lean on the doorframe steve looks at eddie who is very interested in his shoes actually, could do with a clean soon.

‘this where the magic happens ed’s?’

that makes eddie look at him.

dumb, pretty boy.

eddie lifts his hand, flourishing it so it looks like he produced the door key from behind steve’s ear. ‘you were here two days ago steve.’

steve stands up straight, looking at the key in eddies hand. ‘how did u do that?’ he looks so serious eddie can’t help but snort.

‘cute.’ poking steve in the chest eddie opens the door, holding it open and sweeping his arm to let steve through first.

little angel eddie and devil eddie fly in front of his nose and high five. disappearing with a cartoon 'poof'.

eddie sighs. follows steve fucking Harrington inside.

˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ⁎⁺˳✧༚

part 1 (eddie) part 2 (steve) part 3 (eddie) part 4 (steve) part 6 (steve) part 7 (eddie)

(ty everyone who read this!! sorry that they won't be coming out consistently i am very much treating this as a fun thing to write when it comes to me so yeah. luv u mwah!)

[dailydegurechaff]

What is Marry like in this AU of yours?

God I fucking hate Tanya von Degurechaff so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every piece of propaganda she's in, every photo, every parade, every video, she's got this painfully serious, annoying as shit, fuckass blank look on her stupid fucking face. Absolutely no part of her ugly as sin piece of shit appearance is endearing. Her stumpy fucking legs? How the hell is someone that fucking short. Her dumb little silver wings medal? Her shitty, round bastard face? The three thousand percent unnecessary dumbass shitass fucking ANTENNAE that no person in her company has EVER FUCKING TRIED TO FIX FOR HER IN tHE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate her. I hate her so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a White Silver toy or a propaganda poster or a shitty goddamn commercial, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little war criminal into the fucking sun. "tee-hee! I'm Tanya, the White Fucking Silver, I like war crimes". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. You look like a shithead little brat. Your dumb fucking antenna hair makes your whole shitty head look like an unkempt street cat. I hate your dumb fucking little button nose and your stupid, stern blue eyes and your over-the-top no-nonsense hardass asshole personality. Any time she smiles it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a w*lmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know she's just a single fucking child soldier in a giant fucking empire’s army, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether a tiny piece of a greater evil. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing propaganda utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate her. I hate her on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Tanya the Evil is, for all intents and purposes, a single facet of the army subjugating the world- a propagandized pawn distilled into the single, hateable form of a shining ideal soldier for every other imperial scumbag to emulate. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate her so much. I hate her so, so fucking much. I want to light her ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat her to death with the butt of the gun she stole off my father. I want to punch her to death. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that her existence as a war hero is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this sinful child

(x)