#anyway this came over me and i had to write it

[likeumeanit9497]

red pill | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: y/n is keeping score of a strange game between her friends when things get a little bit out of control ;)

warnings: SMUT; unprotected p in v; oral (m receiving); fingering; spanking; hair pulling; dirty talk; use of boner pillz; face fucking; 18+

notes: this has been sitting half-finished in my drafts since the triplets posted that one photo dump (iykyk) and i FORGOT ABOUT IT until today. when i first started writing this i couldn't decide if it should be a matt or chris fic but was obviously going through a chris phase when i started it soooo chris girlies this is for u. HOWEVER stay tuned matt girls because i plan on making a blue pill version;) anyways love y'all lots MUAH MUAH MUAH

“This is so fucking stupid.” Matt groaned, sitting in between his brothers on the living room couch, holding a single red pill delicately in between two fingers as though it was a toxin. “Bro you’re the one who came up with the idea and bought them.” Chris retorted, inspecting the identical pill in his own hand. “Yeah, and I have no fucking clue why I agreed to this.” Nick chimed in, his voice filled with misery. “Because you can never turn down a competition.” I replied cheekily from my place on the other couch, giggling at the boys’ petty arguing.

Leaning forward, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket — opening up the timer app and hovering my finger over the start button. “Now hurry up and take them dummies, I’ll keep score.” I peered up at them as they gave each other tentative looks, seemingly hoping that one was going to have a change of heart. When nothing but silence followed, they all seemed to unanimously commit, dropping the red pills on their tongues and chasing them down with soda. As soon as they swallowed, I started the timer and sat back; crossing my arms across my chest with a smirk plastered to my face.

After the guys had posted the video at the gas station where Matt was talking about his idea for the sex pills, I had jokingly messaged him saying that I would gladly keep score if they really did it. Taking my message seriously, Matt had secretly gone out and grabbed three pills before inviting me over tonight. Thinking we were all just going to hangout, I was shocked when I showed up to find the pills neatly lined up on the coffee table and the three brothers pacing around the room arguing. After plenty of deliberation, Matt finally convinced Nick and Chris, and now here they were; awkwardly looking between themselves and me.

“How long do these even take to kick in?” Asked Chris, toying with the can of Pepsi in his hand. Grabbing one of the packages from the coffee table, Matt examined it for a moment. “It says thirty minutes.” He replied, sighing and running a hand through his messy hair. “This is ridiculous.” Remarked Nick, shaking his head as though he was disappointed in everyone in the room. Still giggling, I stretched my legs along the couch. “Oh come on,” I whined, “Relax, get comfy, and let the games begin.”

𓆩♡𓆪

“Okay, this isn’t working.” Nick deadpanned, locking his phone and throwing it beside him. “Really?” Asked Chris, turning to face his brother. Dropping his jaw, Nick made a disgusted face. “Is it for you?” Chris smirked bashfully, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m feeling somethin’.” He replied, to which Matt and Nick both groaned. “What about you Matt?” I asked, eyeing his still-relaxed frame leaning against the couch. Jutting out his bottom lip, he shrugged. “No, nothin’.” Chris groaned beside him, and I couldn’t help but notice him adjust himself slightly. “Great, now I feel weird.” He said, grabbing a blanket and swiftly draping it across his lap. I laughed and slowly pulled myself up from the couch.

“Looks like you might end up being the loser.” I teased as I began tidying up the packages strewn around the room. “I will n-” Dropping to my knees, I collected torn up pieces of packaging that had gathered at Chris’s feet. Noticing that Chris’s words had been cut short and now the room had fallen into heavy silence, I glanced up at him through my eyelashes. His eyes — which from up close seemed glassy and dilated — were on me, his mouth open slightly from his disrupted speech, and even his breathing seemed slightly rapid as his chest rose and fell.

Noticing this, Nick threw his hands up in the air exasperatedly. “Chris are you serious? See I knew this was a fucking horrible idea.” His sharp words pulled Chris’s eyes away from me, and he winced at his brother. “I’m sorry,” He replied, his words aimed at both Nick and myself, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me.” He added, seeming to grow increasingly uncomfortable. I giggled nervously before pulling myself back up to my feet. “It’s okay.” I reassured him before bringing the packages to the garbage; using the short walk to recover from that oddly intense moment.

As I returned, I suddenly noticed Matt fidgeting in his place on the couch, his brows knit in what seemed to be anguish. With Nick scrolling on his phone and Chris burying his head in his hands, I seemed to be the only one noticing Matt’s sudden discomfort. I chuckled as I slid back into my seat. “You good Matt?” I asked, teasing him. His eyes shot up to mine, and I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously. “Uh…yeah. All—all good.” He replied, his voice thick and slightly raspy.

Glancing down at my phone, I check the timer. It had been 32 minutes since they took the pills. I smiled gently. “Right on time.” I replied, shooting him a knowing look which just made him grow even more visibly restless. My comment grabbed the attention of Nick and Chris, and they turned to look at their rosy-cheeked brother. “You too?” Nick shouted, jumping up off of the couch. Matt grimaced, shrugging his shoulders again. “It’s not like I can control it.” He replied, letting out an uncomfortable laugh. Sighing, Nick began walking towards the stairs. “Whoa! Where are you going?” Chris asked him. “Nothing is happening to me dumbass! And I will absolutely not be sitting around you two anymore now that you’re both bricked up.” He sassed as he began climbing the stairs. “Good luck Y/n!” He called as he disappeared into his bedroom.

“Looks like we’re in a 1 v 1.” I said, wiggling my eyebrows teasingly. I registered the look of torment on the faces of Matt and Chris, and decided that it would be in my best interest to hold back my laughter. “Let’s see who can make it to an hour.” I added. Chris grunted as he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I’ll be lucky if I make it another five minutes.” He replied, his voice also more gruff than usual. “Aww c’mon, you can do it.” I encouraged, moving to place a reassuring hand on his knee but deciding against it. As the room fell back into silence, I could hear Matt’s heavy breathing permeated by the occasional soft whine.

Although I was trying to keep things light-hearted, their overwhelming arousal was growing more and more palpable. My wandering eyes flittered from Matt’s bottom lip pulled in between his teeth to Chris’s temple coated in a sheen of sweat. As I focused on their features, it was as though their chemically-induced lust was contagious. I began to feel my own heart pounding in my chest, and I noticed a dampness in my panties that hadn’t been there before. In that silent room, all of our desires suddenly fell in sync with one another, and it was growing harder and harder to ignore.

“I need to go deal with this.” Chris suddenly blurted out, his voice laced with urgency as his focused eyes stared straight ahead. “You’re throwin’ in the towel?” Asked Matt, his lips curling into a smile infused with what seemed to be an odd combination of arrogance and relief. Chris winced as he tried to lean forward, nodding his head intensely. I watched in painful silence as he folded his hands together and pressed them against his plump lips, deep in thought. Very slowly, his eyes were pulled in my direction.

I froze under his gaze, the look he was giving me was worth a thousand words. My brows furrowed momentarily, instinctually denying what his eyes were asking me, before I felt my body begin to react. Heart pounding in my ears, I leaned back against the couch and crossed my legs; dying for some relief. “Hey—what’s going on?” Matt’s voice infiltrated mine and Chris’s stare-down. Picking up on the shift of air in the room, his eyebrows shot up. “Chris, no! That’s not how this works.” He exclaimed, turning to face his brother. Still looking at me, a smirk pulled at the corner of Chris’s lips. “We never laid down any ground rules kid.” He replied, and I felt my throat go dry.

“Well…” Matt’s exasperated voice trailed off for a moment, “Well, who said you get to fuck her?” The words sat heavy in the air around us, the reality of the situation being verbalized for the first time. I couldn’t manage to get a single word out if I tried, nor did I have the power to pull my eyes from Chris’s heady gaze. Chris chuckled, pulling himself off of the couch before slowly beginning to walk towards me. “No one,” He began, his voice suddenly menacing, “That’s up to her.” He finished just as he stopped in front of me, his frame towering above me with his tantalizing bulge directly in my line of sight.

Very slowly, he leaned down so that we were once again face-to-face. I felt my cheeks burn red from the situation I had suddenly found myself in, and the desire was radiating off of me in pulses. “What do you say?” He asked, his dilated eyes flooded with amusement. I swallowed, trying my best to re-instate my own vocal chords. Just as I was about to squeak out a response, a mindless gasp fell from my lips as Chris ducked his head down; his face buried in my neck.

My eyes fluttered shut momentarily, but once they opened they immediately landed on Matt’s tense figure sitting on the couch. His eyes were wide open, showing me just how badly he was suffering in that moment. The sheer need radiating from his gaze on me was infiltrating my mind, but the feeling of Chris’s warm breath dancing against my neck made it difficult for anything else to matter.

A whisper-soft moan slipped from my lips as Chris’s tongue delicately swiped against my clammy skin, and on instinct my hands flew to the back of his hair. Noticing my pitiful reaction, Chris chuckled against my skin. “I think I have my answer.” He whispered before pulling away from my neck and instead resuming our mind-numbingly erotic staring contest.“Matt get out.” Chris ordered, not even bothering to pull his hungry eyes away from me. As soon as Matt groaned, huffing out a disappointed “Fuck” as he headed for his room, Chris’s ravenous mouth was on mine.

I sucked in a sharp breath from the sheer dominance of his mouth. Lips tumbling in urgency, I felt his tongue toy with my lips; begging for entrance. Obliging, I moaned softly as his warm tongue flicked into my mouth, running against my own in slow, intoxicating movements. “Chris.” I panted, my voice thick with lust as his rapacious mouth began travelling down my neck. His hands snaked up my body, taking their time along my bare legs and stomach before tugging against the hem of my bunched up tank.

“Off.” He growled authoritatively. Without hesitating, I threw the thin white material over my head and let it drop to the floor. As soon as my pebbled tits were exposed, Chris’s greedy hands cupped onto them; exploring their shape as his thumbs ran along my sensitive nipples. Goosebumps raised on my skin at the feeling of his covetous, almost controlling touch. His hands and mouth moved as though he had no control over them — as though they owned the body that they were exploring.

His mouth dropped down to my chest. Taking one of my nipples in his mouth, a deep moan vibrated against my blazing skin. I laced my fingers through his hair, tugging gently against his roots as pleasure surged through my body. “Fuck, I’m so hard Y/n.” He said roughly as he nibbled at my skin. Mouth watering from the need he was exhibiting so transparently, my legs widened subconsciously as I writhed for more contact. “Let me h-help then.” I replied, my voice airy from how breathless he was making me.

Chris immediately straightened up, standing in front of me. Holding the bottom of his t-shirt up between his teeth, he began fumbling wildly with his belt. As soon as the metal unbuckled, my hands flew to his jeans, my own desperation causing me to yank down his zipper and slip his baggy pants and boxers down just enough to allow his swollen cock to spring free. As soon as the cold air brushed against his leaking tip, Chris released a gasp of relief. “Fuck, need your mouth.” He muttered, his droopy eyes peering down at me as I took in the immeasurable size of his length.

As I sat frozen in shock, the silky skin of his tip brushed against my pouting lips, snapping me out of my hypnosis. I opened my mouth, granting him the ability to place his cock on my tongue. I looked up at him through my lashes, taking in his panicky and disheveled appearance as his desperate cock pulsed against my drooling tongue. Slowly, I wrapped my lips around his girth, sucking in my cheeks lightly; earning a sharp groan and an indignant thrust of his hips. My eyes stayed glued to his as I began swirling my tongue along his swollen ridge, his salty pre-cum dissolving against my satisfied taste buds.

His jaw went slack as he watched me, deep in a trance. His hands found the back of my head, where he laced his strong fingers through my wavy hair; seeming to put up a fight against an all-consuming urge to sink all eight inches down my welcoming throat. Just as his eyes darkened, seconds from losing all self-control, I gave him some of the relief he was dying for by slowly bobbing my head up and down his veiny shaft. A long hiss escaped his mouth, his eyes burned into the sight before him — into me — as I took more and more of him in my mouth on each movement.

“Fuck.” He groaned, his words clipped, as his hands tightened in my hair. Slowly, I noticed him use his grip on my head to help guide my movements; sliding my mouth along his cock in a steady rhythm. As I looked up at him, I noticed the tension rolling throughout his entire body — his abdomen flexed, arms veiny, face reddening — caused by the self-restrain he was so obviously practicing combined with the crushing arousal that he was experiencing. To help him, I relaxed my throat and gave up moving my head on my own. He noticed my sudden lack of movement, but after scanning my face in concern for a moment, quickly accepted my wordless offering by slowly rolling his hips.

He moved gently at first, his eyes trained on mine as though he was gauging where my limitations stood. With each thrust, he slid his cock just a little further down my throat, until finally my nose was pressed taut against the sprinkle of hair along his pelvis. He held me there for a moment, looking down in awe at the sight of every inch of him buried in my warm, wet mouth. As I began tightening my throat around his shaft, growing restless, his breath seemed to grow more and more ragged — until all at once his self-control seemed to vanish.

I gasped around his cock as he suddenly grabbed my head with both hands, keeping me completely still as he began pounding his cock down my throat. Tears began forming in my eyes from the sheer force of his movements. “G-good girl.” He breathed, his eyes focused on my pink lips as they stretched to accommodate his laboured thrusts. I tried to moan — the lust emitting from Chris as he face fucked me caused my panties to flood — but my vocal chords were stifled by his ravaging cock. Instead, I turned into a zombie: my glossy eyes rolled to the back of my head as strings of saliva poured from the corners of my stretched out mouth.

Chris’s breathing grew so ragged that it was intimidating. Each rough thrust drew a guttural moan from his lips, making my head spin with desire. Suddenly, my eyes flew open in shock as Chris used his strong grip on my hair to pull me back; my head now pressed firmly against the back of the couch as he drove his cock down my throat. Unable to breathe, I entered a foreign state of ecstasy as Chris planted one of his legs onto the couch to get even deeper access; pushing me to my limits.

Just as I was about to grab onto his leg and, with pleading eyes, let him know I needed a break, the most erotic moan I had ever heard fell from his swollen lips. “G-gonna cum baby.” He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he seemed to focus on the overwhelming build up inside of him. Flooded with arousal, I suddenly regained the ability to take his strained, erratic thrusts. “You look so fuckin’ good with my cock in your mouth.” He groaned, his words punctuated by his sharp thrusts. I released an unsteady whimper in response, staring up at his haggard face.

“Shiiit.” Chris’ voice was drawn out as he made one final thrust, letting his cock hit the back of my throat one last time before I felt his warm seed erupt; filling my drooling mouth with thick ropes of the salty fluid as his cock twitched against my tongue. I kept my eyes on his as I eagerly swallowed his cum, and watched as his glazed-over expression of bliss switched to one much more alert and hungry.

Very slowly, he pulled his still-hard cock out of my mouth with a pop. I stayed perfectly still, staring up at him with an inquisitorial look in my eyes, and flinched when I felt his thumb run along my bottom lip to collect his spilt seed before pushing it back in between my lips. After eagerly lapping up the residue, my lips were once again engulfed by Chris’s. He moaned at the taste of himself on my tongue, and his hands wasted no time before tugging down my shorts.

He detached his lips from mine, leaving me a panting mess, as his gaze was pulled to my trembling heat. Just barely concealed by my soaking wet thong, I felt my slippery walls flex around nothing from his attention alone. Chris hooked his fingers into the waistband of my thong, pulling it down my legs torturously slow as I watched his chest rise and fall. Once I was fully exposed, the cold air against my swollen clit caused me to widen my legs; begging for his warm touch.

“So fuckin’ pretty.” Chris breathed, his voice an almost-whisper, as he ran his hands along my upper thighs. Once they reached my outer-most folds, he used his thumbs to spread me apart; admiring the way my juices dripped down to his knuckles. I trembled, feeling erotically pinned down by both his powerful hands and strong gaze, dying for him to touch me. I noticed the way he was holding me so tightly, the way his lower lip was pulled between his teeth, before his eyes shot back up to mine. “Turn around.” He ordered gruffly.

Knowing that I didn’t have the willpower to refuse even if I had wanted to, I turned around. Spreading my legs wider and bending my knees, I leaned my exposed chest against the back of the couch for support as I became more and more aware of the heat radiating off of his famished body behind me. I felt the weight on the couch shift just before I felt his hand snake up my spine to once again lace through my messy hair; the warm, wet feeling of his tongue sending aftershocks along my over-reactive skin.

His chest, now completely bare, pressed against my back as his face nuzzled against my shoulder; nibbling gently with his front teeth. Arching my back, I gasped as his free hand came around to my front; finding my clit blindly before rubbing quick circles against it. A stunned moan of relief slipped from my lips, muffled by the soft fabric of the couch, as I felt my body begin to melt under his nimble fingers. “Fuck Chris, r-right there.” I breathed, engulfed in the pleasure of his steady movements.

“You’re so fuckin’ soaked baby,” He purred against my red-hot ear, “You sure you didn’t take a pill too?” His deep voice, laced with amusement, reverberated through my scattered brain. Attempting to laugh in response, I was cut short by the unmistakable feeling of his warm tip, still glossy from my mouth, pressing against my drooling slit. “Mmm.” I groaned, writhing slowly in an attempt to pull him into me.

Noticing this, Chris chuckled menacingly against my skin. “You want my cock pretty girl?” His words shot straight to my core, and aimlessly I tried to grab his poised length in my greedy hand. Tauntingly, he pulled his hips back so his cock was out of reach. “Wanna hear you say it.” He asserted, his fingers slowing against my bundle of nerves. Whining, I turned my head so that I could see his face to my right. Lids droopy, I spoke with urgency. “Please, Chris,” I felt a string of arousal slip down my thigh, “Please g-give me your c-cock.”

With a satisfied smirk across his face, Chris kept his eyes on mine as his hand abandoned my clit. Brows furrowed from the lack of contact, I was just about to let out a dissatisfied groan when I felt the heat of his cock press against my trembling core. I watched his eyes flutter from the feeling of my folds just beginning to wrap around him, and in one swift motion, he split me in half.

Gasping, I had no time to adjust to Chris’s sinful girth before he started pounding into me. My walls stretched more than they ever had before, but welcomed his cock graciously by spilling pools of arousal along its length. “Jesus Christ.” Chris moaned in my ear, overwhelming lust clear in his voice, though it didn’t seem to reign over his powerful movements. The sloppy, wet sounds of our bodies slapping together echoed throughout the living room, their provocative recoils muddling my thoughts.

Chris straightened himself up behind me, keeping his one hand knit through my hair but placing his other on my ass cheek; pressing down so that my back was arched as much as it could be. “You’re making a b-big fuckin’ mess on me baby.” He uttered, using his grip on my ass to spread me apart; admiring the sight of his cock disappearing inside of my oozing pussy. “F-feels so good.” I moaned in response, mouth going slack as I relished in the feeling of his cock squeeze through my spongey walls.

His pace began to quicken, my cunt trembling from the new rapid pace. I could barely lift my head from the back of the couch; his cock dominated every part of me. Deep, throaty groans slipped from his mouth every few seconds, his grip on my hair tightened as he struggled to keep up his pace. “Touch yourself.” He suddenly ordered, his voice rushed and gruff. With a moan, I brought my fingers to my clit where I began to draw tight circles in sync with Chris’s rhythm.

As my bundle of nerves danced between my trembling fingers, my pleasure was profoundly intensified. “Oh god!” I cried out, my voice sounding brutish to my own ears. “K-keep going C-Chris!” I felt myself begin to crumble, my climax violently approaching. As if reading my mind, he grunts from behind me. “You gonna cum?” Unable to respond with words, I nodded my head rapidly as I chewed on my bottom lip. A sharp slap against my ass caused me to gasp, my pussy starting to convulse around his rock hard length. “That’s a good girl, cum for me baby.”

His soft words worked paradoxically with his rough thrusts and stinging slap, and I was immediately hit by an orgasm so brutal, so all-consuming, that I felt my soul drift from my body. For a moment, my body stilled, void of any sign of life, as my orgasm constricted all of my senses. I felt nothing; heard nothing; saw nothing; until a wave of pleasure, the colour of blood, came screaming at me — attacking my nerves and bringing me back to life.

My legs shook, nails dug into the couch, back contorted to the point where it looked broken, as the scream of a possessed woman spilled from my mouth. Chris tightened his grip on my hair, pulling my head off of the couch and wrapping his free hand around my mouth to stifle my uncontrollable moans. As I cried out his name into his possessing hand, his movements slowed tremendously; my spasming cunt suffocating his cock. “J-Jesus.” Chris panted from behind me, struggling to keep his composure as he slowly sunk himself into me; doing his best to drive me through my high before he lost all control.

I began to gain composure over my body as my orgasm subsided — I could feel my weak limbs and filter the words that spilled from my lips. Soft moans still escaped, however, as Chris continued to fuck me slowly; hissing between his teeth as he inched closer and closer to his own high. I felt my depleted walls continue to stretch for him, and fell into a slight hypnosis from the steady movements of our conjoined bodies.

“Turn around.” Chris’s urgent voice startled me back to my senses. He suddenly pulled his cock out of me in one quick movement, and as he did, I turned around to face him. Leaning with my back against the couch, I watched as he angled himself closer to me, pumping his red, swollen cock in his hand. After a few rapid jerks, Chris let out a deep guttural moan, shuddering before spilling his warm, milky, cum along my tits. My hungry eyes flittered between his face — eyes screwed shut in bliss, puffy lips pulled apart slightly, jaw tense — and the filthy portrait he was painting across my clammy skin.

Once a pool of his seed had collected in between my full tits, Chris released one more soft grunt before opening his eyes. They focused on his signature for a moment, before drifting up to my face; a satisfied smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he took in my spent appearance. Taking a shaky breath, he leaned down to plant a soft kiss to my lips before using his discarded shirt to wipe up the mess he had made on my chest.

“Well, that turned out to be a pretty fun game.” He whispered, his words laced with humour. My eyes followed his gentle movements across my skin; watching as he took his time and made sure he left my skin seemingly untouched. Chuckling, all of my energy drained, I looked back up at his crimson-tinted face. “Let’s thank Matt.” I replied, laughing at the repulsed expression that took over his features. “You’re sick, kid.” He retorted, shaking his head, but I noticed the shameless smile creeping over his lips.

“I was kiddingggg,” I laughed, reaching for my discarded clothes, “Do you feel better though?” I asked, to which Chris dropped his gaze to his cock — still red and standing up flush against his stomach — looking back to me with a raised eyebrow as though he was saying, ‘What’s it look like?’. Chuckling, I grab my top and begin trying to put it on. “Sorry dude, I did the best I could.” Just as my vision was restricted by the material of my top over my eyes, I squealed as I felt Chris lift me up; bending me over his shoulder as he stood up.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked, my voice broken by laughter as I jokingly pounded on his shoulder. He was walking, now, and I couldn’t control my childish giggles as I tried to get my tank top off of my head. “We’re gonna go take a shower.” He replied just as I felt him begin to descend the stairs leading to his bedroom. “Maybe one more time will do the trick.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[dollfacefantasy]

Ooh how about vibrator play w frank castle? Maybe sitting w your back to his chest as he just gets you off over n over bc you got all needy/bratty?

Absolutly love the way you write btw 🫶🫶

frank castle x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, vibrator use, overstimulation, age gap (20s/40s) a/n: thank you so much! i think i saw heaven when i read this request <3

"hold still, baby," his deep voice rumbled against your jaw, "gotta hold still for me. can't make you feel good if you're running away."

your entire body shuddered in his lap. you almost missed the words. they ran together when your mind felt soft and hazy with pleasure like this. they also sounded distant when the buzz of the toy whirred down below. that strong, consistent vibration made everything else fade away.

it wouldn't have really mattered if you spaced what he said anyways. the words were empty. meant to tease you more than anything else. you couldn't get away right now if you wanted to. not with the way he had your thighs pinned open. one of his thick arms wrapped around your waist while his free hand held the small, thrumming cylinder between your legs.

he kept it still for the most part, letting the toy do its job. every so often he would move it. he'd draw small circles on your bundle of nerves or slide it downward like he planned on stuffing it inside your dripping hole.

the sensation caused your hips to buck. your heels dug into his thighs, sliding on the denim covering them as you fruitlessly tried to squirm to nowhere. your back pressed against his chest while raucous whines erupted from you.

but despite the signs of you getting overwhelmed, he didn't take the toy off. he kept your little vibrator buzzing right up against you and planted a few kisses along your jawline.

"you gettin' close? that why you're all squirmy? cause you're gonna cum again?" he murmured.

your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you nodded wildly.

he smirked, though your eyes were too droopy to see that.

"so needy. you weren't lying about how bad you wanted me, huh?" he crooned.

your head shook back and forth now.

"well let it happen, honey. stop trying to run from it. let yourself feel good. that's what you were after," he said, subtly taunting towards the end.

his mocking tone did nothing to deter you. your release crashed into you with enough force to black out your vision. every muscle in your body quivered, contracting and relaxing as you hit the high for the third time in a row.

a moan seeped from your lips so loud that his hand flew up from your waist to clamp over your mouth.

"shh, shh, shh, sweet girl. can't have you waking up the whole floor, yeah?" he mumbled in your ear.

you didn't respond. your body continued to roll into the bliss before settling. there was a brief moment of reprieve following that - probably because your nerves were approaching numbness down there - but before you could catch your breath, that small toy was back on the most delicate part of your cunt. your eyes rolled back, your mind blanking in response to yet another round of white hot bliss starting up.

"no- mmph- no more, frank," you whined as his hand fell from your mouth to grope at one of your breasts.

"no, you're not done yet. i know you. i turn this thing off now, and in fifteen minutes you'll be pawing at my shorts," he teased.

"i won't," you begged, lip wobbling, "i won't. promise. it's too much."

"too much? you gettin' tired? that cute little pussy ready to tap out for me?" he cooed.

"uh huh," you moaned.

"yeah? s'funny cause when i came home and told you i was tired, you didn't wanna stop, did you?" he said.

you groaned already knowing where this was going. "frankie-" you started to plead, but he cut your cry short.

"yeah. told you my muscles were aching, my back's all stiff-"

"thought you were just being an old man," you pouted, cutting him off right back.

as soon as the words exited your mouth, his thumb on the vibe tapped the button to crank up the speed. the buzzing grew louder and the tiny rod shook in his grasp with more force. you yelped, your body jerking and then melting on top of him.

"don't be a smartass or we'll be here for a while," he muttered, kissing your cheekbone, "you knew what you were doing, begging like that even when i told you to quit it. this is exactly what you wanted."

you turned your head, nuzzling your face against his throat as if the crook of his neck could provide you some form of escape. your body trembled on his lap, though it was totally motionless otherwise. your limbs felt like jelly, and your mind didn't fare much better. whimpers oozed from your lips without restraint.

"that's better," he praised, "just cum again for me, baby. one more time. give me a good one and it might be the last."

ragged breaths puffed from your lips. your chest heaved with the exertion. you knew your next release was coming whether you wanted it or not. it bordered on painful, but the all-consuming sensation overtook you just the same.

this time you reacted with less intensity. you weren't as loud, most of your noises remaining breathy and drawn out. your body didn't jerk. instead you spasmed with the euphoria flooding your senses.

he worked you through it, swiveling the point of the vibrator over your clit with precision. his hand guided it through your slick. it stayed on you until the last of your tremors melted into bursts in the aftershock.

finally then, when you were wriggling and whining, grabbing at his wrist without any semblance of a coherent word coming from you, he pulled it away. that same button he used to up the speed, he hit again and turned it off.

he dropped it to the side. it could be cleaned up later. right now, his attention stayed on you. his strong arms squeezed you before shifting your body around to sit more comfortably against his chest.

a couple kisses landed on your forehead. his fingers massaged the nape of your neck, coaxing your mind out from the slush of post-release and back to lucidity with him. you blinked slowly while gazing up at him with your glazed eyes.

"you gonna be able to walk to bed, or do i gotta help you?" he mocked.

you pouted with annoyance this time, lightly jabbing him with your elbow. "i got it," you whimpered before slowly rising and taking a few uncertain steps.

he huffed out a laugh at the display, patting your ass as he stood up to follow your lead.

[harrysfolklore]

can you do franco colapinto x reader at the club after a race??? they're already in an established relationship

this short and i decided to write it as part of the nepo boyfriend universe but i hope you like it !

The bass thrums through your bones as you watch him from across the VIP section, still in his team polo because he barely had time to change after the race. Franco's practically draped over Charles and Pierre, gesturing animatedly about something while they try not to laugh at his current state.

"So P8 wasn't a podium but he's celebrating like he won the championship," Alex comments beside you, amused.

"Let him live, he got points," you defend, but you're fighting back a laugh as Franco nearly knocks over Pierre's drink with his enthusiastic reenactment of his overtake on turn 4.

"Mi amor!" Franco spots you, face lighting up like he hasn't seen you in days instead of minutes. He stumbles his way over, immediately wrapping himself around you like a koala. "Mi vida, mi corazón, I missed you.”

"I was gone for five minutes to get drinks," you remind him, but your hand automatically goes to play with his hair as he nuzzles into your neck.

"Five minutes too long," he mumbles against your skin. "Did you see my overtake? Did you see? I was like vroom and then whoosh and then-"

"Yes baby, I saw, I was in the garage."

"She was literally on the pit wall," Lando snickers. "Screaming louder than your engineer."

"Because she loves me," Franco announces proudly, lifting his head to beam at everyone. "She's gonna marry me one day."

"Oh my god," you groan as the others burst out laughing.

"What? You are!" Franco insists, then his eyes go wide. "Wait, shit, that wasn't the proposal, I have a plan, there's gonna be roses and Papa Messi already said yes-"

"WHAT?" you screech, but he's already moved on, swaying to the music.

"Dance with me mi amor! Es nuestra canción!"

"This is literally Bad Bunny, every song is 'our song' when you're drunk," you point out, but let him pull you closer anyway.

"Because every song makes me think of you," he says with drunk sincerity, then trips over his own feet. "Oops. The floor moved."

Oscar's practically crying with laughter. "Someone film this, please."

"Already on it," Pierre confirms, phone out.

"You're all terrible friends," you inform them, trying to keep Franco upright as he attempts to demonstrate his overtake again, this time with dance moves.

"Mi amor," Franco stage whispers (which is really just normal volume), "don't tell anyone but I think I'm a little drunk."

"No shit, mi vida."

"But I'm your drunk nepo boyfriend," he says proudly, then frowns. "Wait, that came out wrong. I mean I'm your worst nepo boyfriend. No wait, that's still wrong-"

You kiss him just to shut him up, tasting tequila and happiness on his lips.

"Te amo," he mumbles against your mouth. "Even if I can't remember if I'm supposed to be the worst or best nepo boyfriend right now."

"Definitely the worst," you assure him fondly.

"But you love me?"

"But I love you."

[jo-speaks]

CANN U PLZ WRITE QUINN AND HIS GF HAVING HOT TOB SEXXHWINDIS PLZLZLZ

HOT TUB ANTICS

overview: a relaxing night in the hot tub with quinn turns into something more. (+ the origin of this picture)

warnings: smut! MDNI (18+pls guys), dirty talk, thigh riding, unprotected sex, etc.

note: ooo the thoughts i had running though my head when i saw this picture and then this request came though i swear i almost blew up. also this is not proofread because it's 12:40 am and i have class tomorrow :)

wc: 2.5k

You were struggling to tie the laces of your bikini top when you heard a knock on your door.

“Y/N? The tub’s ready.” Quinn called out, his hand lingering on the knob as he waited for your response.

He heard your grumble before it was followed with, “Can you help me?”. Turning the knob, he walked in, trying his best to keep his composure as the loose top barely covered your breasts, the bottoms doing little to nothing to cover your ass. 

“Quinn?” You smirked, noticing his stare. 

“Huh? Sorry,” He replied sheepishly, making his way over to you. 

Four years of dating and he still got distracted when he saw you like this. He brought his hands up, his fingers finding the laces of your top, bringing them around your back. He did quick work of tying it together, a smirk appearing on his face as you brought your hands up to adjust the padding that covered your boobs. You had pulled one side forward a little too much, allowing Quinn to catch a quick peek at your nipple. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, leaning forward to rest his forehead on the top of your head. “You can’t do that, baby.”

“Do what?” You asked innocently. 

“You’re such a tease.” He laughed, “C’mon. The water’s gonna get cold."

You smiled and grabbed the towels you had waiting on the edge of the bed, taking Quinn’s hand as he guided you downstairs. Thankfully, it was pretty late at night so the house was quiet, everyone upstairs sleeping or passed out due to the drinking they had done throughout the course of the night. 

When Quinn slid open the glass door, the Michigan air flowing into the warm air of the house. A small breeze caught your abdomen, causing your arms to bring the towels up in front of you in an attempt to reserve your heat. Quinn laughed, taking the towels from you and putting a hand around your lower back to guide you outside. 

He set the towels down, taking both of your phones and putting them on top of the stack before dipping a foot in, the other following suit. When the water came up to the middle of his torso, he stuck his hand out, asking for yours so he could guide you in. The warm water felt amazing, so it didn’t take long for you to join him fully. 

Quinn took a set along the benches instilled in the tub, watching as you stood in the center, allowing the lower half of your body to acclimatize before taking a seat beside him. You let your head rest on his shoulder, the palm of his hand coming to rest on your thigh. 

“I missed this.” You sighed, your muscles relaxing as he turned the jets on the lowest level, the pressured water shooting against your backs. 

Quinn chuckled, hand shifting around your waist to mess with the bows of your bikini, “The hot tub? It does feel nice.”

“No. Well, yes, but I meant you.” You smiled, “Missed being this close to you.”

Quinn gave your thigh a squeeze, “Me too. M’sorry this summer is kinda all over the place.”

“It’s okay. I see you all year, anyway.” 

That was true. He had asked you to move in after two years of being together. Summers always gave you mixed feelings, though. Some days you’d get to be around him one hundred percent of the time, while others you’d only see him for some or not at all. You’d always appreciated his drive, and his determination to not only be better for himself but for his team. But summers were meant to be relaxing, an outlet for everything hockey. Loving him just meant adjusting to his passion, and that was no problem for you. 

Quinn reached over your shoulder, grabbing his phone, and handing it to you before letting his hand drop to your side, toying with the strings of your bikini yet again. “Play something.” You unlocked it, opening up Spotify and putting on the playlist you two had created together on shuffle. It was a slow, sensual song that had played the first time the two of you had sex and suddenly the close contact between the two of you felt too far. Your thighs rubbed together, hoping he wouldn’t notice. But it was Quinn. He noticed everything about you. 

He threw his head back with a soft laugh, lulling it back to the side to look at you with his green eyes, the blue lights of the tub making them seem brighter, “You okay over there, baby?”

You looked over at him, a desire lingering in your gaze. You brought a hand up to his cheek, cupping it softly as you shifted closer, pressing a kiss to his lips. He smiled against your mouth, both hands coming to the side of your waist, effortlessly bringing you onto his lap, your legs on either side of him. Your hands came up to his hair as the kiss quickly went from slow and passionate to rushed and desperate. You wanted to take your time, but something about the way he held you and the music in the background had you yearning for him.

Quinn pulled back, and before you could complain, he was trailing kisses down the column of your neck, marking your skin wherever he could. His lips landed on a particularly sensitive spot, a soft moan passing your lips as your hands gripped at his hair. You could feel his cock twitch against your core through his shorts, your hips grinding down to meet the movement. 

“Stop moving.” He groaned, “You’re gonna make me cum in my pants.”

Per his request, you stopped moving, not wanting this to come to an end before it even got started. Instead, you shifted your position so that instead of being straddled across both of his legs, you were only around one. You pressed down, rocking your hips forward. The friction of his muscle against your clit was enough to have your head feeling dizzy, your hands dropping from his hair to his shoulders. He knew you could get off like this, and he wasn’t about to stop you. 

“So desperate to get off already, hm? And I’ve barely even touched you.”

His deep voice had you speeding up already, moans slipping past your parted lips as Quinn’s hands gripped your waist impossibly tighter, most likely leaving bruises you would feel in the morning.

“Quinn…” You moaned, your forehead coming down to rest on his shoulder. 

He could feel the warmth of your breath meeting his skin that sat above the water, his hands now guiding your movements as he felt you slowing down. “Tell me how bad you need me right now, sweet girl. Wanna hear it from you.”

You were never one to feel embarrassed in the bedroom, but you felt exposed out in the hot tub. There weren’t any cameras and everyone was asleep inside, but something about not having the privacy of four walls had you second-guessing yourself. 

“C’mon. Don’t go all quiet on me now,” He encouraged, his thigh tensing in an attempt to give you more courage. “Tell me how desperately you need me to fuck you.”

His words alone made you moan louder than intended. You turned your head, your cheek now to his shoulder as you peered up at him through your lashes. He copied you, twisting his neck to meet your soft gaze. The desperation in your eyes almost caused him to cum in his pants right then and there. 

“Please, Q.” You whined, your eyes fluttering as you tried to keep them open. “Need to feel you inside of me.”

He smirked, “Yeah? Want me to fuck you?”

You nodded, your orgasm creeping up on you as you tried to answer him. He could feel it – the way your thighs tensed even more, your nails digging into his skin and your noises becoming louder as he moved your hips faster. 

“M’gonna cum, Quinn!” You cried, your movements stuttering against his thigh.

Quinn placed a kiss on your cheek, “Go for it, Y/N. Let go for me.”

The second the words left his mouth you felt the knot in your stomach snap. A stream of moans leaving your throat as Quinn guided your hips, his sweet praises making it feel all that much better. 

You brought your right hand up from his shoulder, your fingers curling around the curve of the side of his neck. Pressing yourself up, you connected your lips once again, this time the pressure feeling softer as your legs shook against his thigh.

“Did so good.” He cooed, kissing you once more before shifting you off his leg, his hands coming down to slide his shorts down to rest at his ankles. Once he adjusted himself to the bare feeling, he brought his hands over to you, undoing the bows he had been toying with all night as he slipped your bottoms off effortlessly.

He didn’t have to do a thing, your body naturally gravitating back towards him as you swung a leg around his waist yet again. 

Your eyes caught his, silently asking him for permission. He didn’t answer, simply resorting to guiding your hips down against him, his cock slipping into you inch by inch. Quinn let out a groan, the feeling of your warmth around him had his head reeling. 

The music had simply become background noise by now, the only thing that mattered to the two of you being how perfectly you felt against each other. 

“It’s like you were made for me, beautiful.” He praised once he was fully inside of you. 

You nodded, blinking your eyes open to look at him. “I’m yours, Quinn. Only yours.”

The words were too sweet for the moment, but he blushed them nonetheless. He slowly thrusted up, the movement feeling experimental, his next one being just as slow. The pace was enough for you both to feel good, but not enough for you to get off. Which is just what he wanted. Quinn wanted to take his time, appreciating your body and the way you felt while this close to him. 

He didn’t want it to end. 

You let him bask in his thoughts, your body shifting forward as you left little kisses across his chest. Not enough to leave marks, but enough to have his stomach tingle at the feeling of your soft lips. You knew how much he had started to like having his shirt off when in the sun, so you decided to leave him with a little soft mark on his chest that could easily be confused for a red patch he often got. 

Your lips moved upward, kissing softly at his neck before shifting up to nip at his ear. Something about the feeling had his thrusts falter slightly, his need to fill you up slowly becoming overwhelming. 

Quinn’s movements sped up, his length dragging just a tad bit faster into you, the water starting to splash the slightest bit as soft groans escaped his chest. “So fucking perfect.”

His words made you smile, your eyebrows furrowing at the increase in speed. “I love you so much, handsome.”

His hands rounded from your waist to your ass, each hand grabbing a handful as he pulled you up, maneuvering your body to meet his hips. 

The adjustment caused him to go deeper, the tip of his cock hitting that spot inside you that had you gasping his name. Your sounds became uncontrollable and the fact that they were flowing straight into Quinn’s ear didn’t help his composure at all. 

He knew he wouldn’t be holding out much longer, stomach tensing as you clenched tighter around him, but he was never one to cum before you, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. 

Quinn brought one hand back around, fitting it in between your bodies as his thumb began to circle your clit. You wailed, biting your lip to try and keep yourself under control as your orgasm built up again, the task becoming increasingly harder the faster he moved. 

“Need you to let go for me, baby.” He sighed, his cock drilling into you, “Please just cum for me again. Know you can do it.” 

His encouragement had your brain flooding out anything that wasn’t Quinn. All you could focus on were his panting breaths, and the way his eyes fluttered shut as his lips parted further. The sight alone had all your composure crumbling, a feeling of euphoria overtaking your body. 

Quinn felt your pussy clenching around him. The all-familiar feeling had his muscles tensing, his cock halting inside of you as he let himself go, his cum spurting thick ropes of white into you. 

The feeling of him leaking out of you was disguised by the jets of the hot tub, the pressure from them cleaning your exposed skin. You panted against his mouth, the feeling of his mustache tickling the tip of your nose.

Quinn blinked his eyes open as you backed up, your eyes drinking in the man in front of you. Your fingers traced his cheekbones before eventually finding their home in his hair.

He smiled at the sight of you, “You look so fucking perfect on top of me.”

You giggled, warmth rising to your face, “Don’t get used to it, that was exhausting.” 

“You barely did anything!” He laughed, eyes widening in fake disbelief. 

The laughter died down, both of you fully embracing the moment. You kissed him yet again, slower this time, basking in the way his – now swollen– lips felt against yours.

You reached to your side, this time grabbing your phone as you opened your camera app. Holding the phone out beside the two of you, you kissed the tip of his nose as your thumb hit the button to snap a picture. You didn’t look at it before kissing his lips, snapping yet another picture. 

“What are you doing?” Quinn asked, looking over at your phone as you seized the moment and kissed his cheek, getting another picture of him smiling at the feeling. 

“Documenting,” You smiled, “You look so good.”

He laughed as he brought the phone in front of his face, putting the .5 setting on and laughing as you caught the moment. “I wanna get one with just you in here, hang on.”

You pressed yourself up, allowing his cock to slip out of you, a sigh leaving both your lips. He pulled his shorts up as you tied your bikini bottoms back around your waist. You stood up, leaving the warmth of the water and circling around the hot tub to capture Quinn in all his beauty. 

After a few shots, Quinn picked up his phone trying to look busy.  “Okay, look at you modeling for me.” You teased, a smile creeping up on his face as you snapped yet another picture, before rejoining him in the water.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

ANAKIN SKYWALKER HEADCANONS

Author's note: this may be.. different

Anakin Skywalker who has an incredible long-term memory but an awful short-term memory. He is the type to remember something from years ago in painstaking detail—like the exact color of your dress the first time he saw you or a specific phrase you once said that made him laugh—but completely forget why he walked into a room five seconds ago.

He’d be so frustrated with himself, too:

«I can rebuild an entire podracer from memory, but I can’t remember where I put my damn lightsaber five minutes ago!»

If you would just tease him about it, his lips would twist into a pout;

“Well, at least I remembered the anniversary of our first kiss.” (Cue him smugly crossing his arms while you roll your eyes.)

Anakin Skywalker who has a diary that he writes in with a glittery gel pen;

He’d sit cross-legged on his bed in the quarters, hunched over the journal with the sparkly pen in hand, writing furiously:

«Mission Log: Obi-Wan still doesn’t get it. He says I’m reckless, but who saved his ass again today? Oh, right, me. Also, y/n smiled at me when I said goodbye, and I’m not saying it means anything, but maybe it does. Anyway, I need a new purple pen—this one’s running out of glitter ink.»

Anakin Skywalker's diary would be filled with doodles of podracers, little hearts around your name, and the occasional rant about sand;

Humming softly, he bent over the page, scrawling your name in his bold, messy handwriting. He frowned, mumbling under his breath about his uneven letters before shrugging it off. Next to your name, he started to doodle little hearts, as if each colorful heart was the show of his affection. Pink, silver, gold—he used every glittery color he had, filling the margin with love-struck decorations.

He paused, tapping the pen against his lips thoughtfully before scribbling, «You’re my favorite everything», right under your name. The ink shimmered in the dim light, catching his eye in a way that made him grin.

He felt ridiculous, like some love-struck teenager, but he didn’t care. This was for you, even if you’d never see it. A quiet, glittery tribute to the person who made the galaxy feel a little less dark.

A soft knock startled him, and his head snapped up, his heart skipping when your voice came through the door.

“Anakin? You still awake?”

Scrambling, he slapped the diary shut and stuffed it under his pillow, cheeks burning as he tried to change his expression into something casual. “Uh, yeah! Just… meditating!”

When the door slid open and you stepped in, his breath hitched. You were in your sleepwear, hair slightly tousled, and that soft smile on your face made him melt. You tilted your head, eyes narrowing playfully.

“Meditating, huh? With glitter on your fingers?”

He looked down, cursing under his breath at the sparkling pink smudge across his thumb. “Uh… yeah, it’s a new technique.”

Anakin Skywalker who has a sketchbook, where he draws A LOT of things. Podraces, you, ships, speeders, random people on the street

Anakin Skywalker who once brought you flowers after a mission;

He trudged through the Jedi Temple’s halls, boots barely making a sound on the polished floor as he fidgets with the bouquet in his hands. Well, bouquet was a generous term. It was more of a sorry-looking cluster of flowers, their once-vibrant petals now limp and pale, some barely clinging to their stems. A petal fluttered to the ground just as he took another step, and he stopped mid-step to glare at it, like he could will it back into place.

He groaned softly, running a hand through his messy curls, smearing a streak of dirt across his cheek. This had seemed like a good idea earlier. Why does everything he does fall apart before it even gets to you? His pout deepened as he plucked out the most shriveled flower, tossing it to the side with a defeated sigh.

Finally, he reached your chambers. Standing outside the door, he took a deep breath, smoothing down his tunic with his free hand and rearranging the flowers one last time. Maybe if he held them at just the right angle, you wouldn’t notice the sorry state they were in.

The door slid open, and there you were, rubbing sleep from your eyes, your expression softening the second you saw him.

“Ani?” you murmured, stepping aside to let him in.

His voice was unusually sheepish as he held out the flowers, eyes darting everywhere but your face.

“I, uh… I picked these for you. On my mission. But, um… they didn’t exactly survive the wait.”

You looked down at the wilted bouquet in his calloused hands, a few petals already scattered on the floor at his boots.

“They’re perfect,” you said softly, reaching for the flowers.

He blinked, pout fading into something almost hopeful. “You don’t have to say that. They look terrible—”

You cut him off with a kiss, lips pressing to his tenderly, hands resting on his chest. He stiffened for half a second before melting into you, his arms wrapping around your waist, the bouquet forgotten as it dangled by his side.

“You’re such a sweetheart,” you whispered against his lips, kissing him again for good measure.

He huffed, but his cheeks were pink, his free hand gently stroking your back. “I just… wanted you to know I was thinking about you. Even while I was out there. I saw them and thought you’d like them.”

“I love them,” you assured him, cradling his face in your hands, thumbs brushing over the dirt smudges on his cheek. “And I love you for bringing them to me, even if it meant walking through the Temple like this in the middle of the night.”

Anakin Skywalker who sneaked out with you to lower levels of coruscant;

As you passed by a flower stall, the vibrant colors caught his attention. He paused, eyes scanning the rows of flowers, before reaching out and plucking two purple blooms—one light lavender, the other a deep, rich violet.

“Perfect,” he murmured to himself, flashing you a smile as he walked back to you, holding the flowers gently.

“Here,” he tucked the lighter lavender flower behind your ear. Fingers lingered on your skin just for a moment, a little touch, a little enough to make your heart skip a beat. You giggled softly, cheeks flushing.

He grinned mischievously, then slid the darker flower into the breast pocket of his jacket. "For me," voice low, teasing.

You stared at him, smile widening as the warmth spread through you. “Now, that’s a perfect match,” you whispered, giggling.

“Mm-hmm,” the grin on his face stretched even wider. You could see the mischief dancing in his eyes, the way his lips curved up as if to say, «this is my favorite moment ever»

“Got it,” you said with a laugh, pressing your hands together like you were taking a picture in the air.

Anakin's face softened for a moment, and then a gleam sparkled in his eyes. “Wait, wait,” he said, holding his hands in front of him like he was about to snap a photo, just like you did. He mimicked your pose, grinning widely “Got it,” he repeated with a smirk.

Anakin Skywalker who as a young baby used to give you flowers from Jedi temple garden;

“This is for you!” he’d chirp, holding the flower up as if it were the most precious gift in the galaxy.

You’d kneel down to his level, heart melting into a puddle at how shyly he’d avert his gaze, cheeks tinged pink. “For me? It’s beautiful, Ani.”

His smile widened, bright enough to rival with the Coruscant sun. “I thought it’d look pretty on you,” he’d mumble before stepping closer, his small fingers fumbling to tuck it behind your ear.

Affection swelled in your chest as his fingers brushed against your skin, before he’d pull back to inspect his handiwork with thoughtful expression. “There,” he’d declare softly, looking utterly pleased with himself.

Your little arms would wrap tightly around his neck, voice muffled against his shoulder. “Thank you, Ani. You’re my favorite Jedi, you know that?”

“You’re my favorite everything.”

Anakin Skywalker who would eat most of your food he'd find in your chambers

Anakin Skywalker who smells like vanilla

Anakin Skywalker who loves when you stroke his back in the morning while he's still sleepy and just nuzzling to his pillow;

Soft, golden glow of the sunrise gently filtered through the curtains in your chambers , casting a gentle illumination across the side of the room. Anakin laid sprawled across the bed, body entangled in sheets. His breathing was slow and steady, tousled curls sticking to his forehead in a mix of shadows cast by the night and the faint morning light. You, propped up on one arm, tenderly stroked his back, fingertips gliding over his skin while time to time pressing gentle kisses to his bare shoulder. The sensation stirred his body slightly, and he shifted beneath your touch, acting like a contented puppy who curled up to enjoy the affection.

his words laced with a lazy, sleepy drawl. "Don’t stop," he murmured, a soft groan escaping his lips with his eyes remaining closed. With a gentle smile, you continued your gentle caresses, tracing small circles across his back, watching him shift and sigh while his muscles relaxed under your touch.

But as you took your hand away to change your position, he stirred once more, rolling onto his side to face you. His eyes were half-lidded and clouded with the remnants of sleep, a soft, pleading expression in his tone. "C'mon... more... please," his hand reaching out towards you, pulling you closer, fingers grazing along the sheets. You let out a soft chuckle, but without hesitation, drew closer to him and your hand shot out to find itself in his curls. With delicate fingers, you ran them through the soft strands, lightly massaging his scalp, causing a small hitch in his breath.

Anakin Skywalker who read tons of books, watched a lot of videos about gardening all to make you proud that he could seed tulips and make them grow

Anakin Skywalker who secretly sips on your coffee, always muttering that «sharing is caring»

Anakin Skywalker who makes «your mom» jokes

Anakin Skywalker who constantly hacks their stats in every video game he plays

Anakin Skywalker who uses the word «fuck» like a comma.

Anakin Skywalker who definitely has a roblox account and even though he's a softie, he bullies some kids there;

He logs in with the most ridiculous username, something like DarthSlayer69, and his avatar is over-the-top—dark cape, glowing red eyes, and a lightsaber accessory. He’s spent way too much time customizing it because, of course, he has to look intimidating.

And then? He enters some innocent game like Adopt Me! or Brookhaven and immediately starts causing mayhem.

"Get off my property, kid," he types in the chat, standing in front of a house he didn’t even buy.

In Tower of Hell, he’d purposely push people off platforms, then type: "Too slow. Guess you weren’t strong enough."

If anyone dared to clap back, he’d go full into fighting back; "Do you know who I am? I’ve fought in wars. You’re just a noob with bad Wi-Fi."

When you walk into the room while he’s cackling at his antics, you took one look at the screen, and roll your eyes.

"Anakin, are you bullying children again?"

"No, angel, I’m teaching them a valuable lesson." He'd say too smugly

Anakin Skywalker who uses two-in-one shampoo and conditioner yet still has the softest hair ever, which obviously makes you mad because you have to use tons of products to make your hair look decent.

Anakin Skywalker who fixes your lightsaber too often;

Anakin leaned back against the workbench, arms crossed over his chest, as he watched you sheepishly place your lightsaber in front of him. His expression was equal parts of amused and exasperated

"Again?" he drawled, raising an eyebrow.

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze as you fiddled with the hem of your tunic. "It... broke."

"It broke," he repeated, tone dripping with mock disbelief. He picked up the hilt, turning it over in his hands like inspecting some troublesome droid. "No, sweetheart, you broke it. What did you do this time? Smash it against a rock? Use it to pry open a door?"

"I didn’t!" you protested, immediately crossing your arms in self-defense. "I was fighting, and—"

"And you lost control," he finished for you, shaking his head with a chuckle. "You know, lightsabers are meant for precision. Not..." He gestured vaguely, as if mimicking you wildly flailing the weapon around.

Your face flushed at that, and you jabbed a finger at him. "Are you going to fix it or just stand there and tease me all day, Master Skywalker?"

At the sound of his full title, he grinned, as if it alone was enough to satisfy his ego. Setting the hilt down on the bench, he reached for his tools. "Oh, I’ll fix it. Like I always do. But you know..." He shot you a sly glance. Uh, oh.."If you keep this up, I’m going to start charging you."

"Charging me?" You blinked, incredulous. "With what? We don’t even use credits in the Order!"

He leaned in closer, smirk deepening. "Not credits, sweetheart. Favors." his eyes roamed down and up your body

Your stomach did a little flip "Favors?"

He nodded, picking up a small tool and starting to carefully disassemble the damaged saber. "Mm-hmm. Maybe you take over my chores for a week. Or you could cook dinner for once instead of ordering ration packs. Or..." He set the tool down and leaned in again, voice dropping to a near-whisper, eyes darting down to your lips. "You could just kiss me every time you break it."

you scoffed "That’s a ridiculous system," you muttered, but you didn’t pull away when he leaned even closer

"Is it?" he murmured, breath warm against your skin. "Seems fair to me. I put in the work, and I get a little reward."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face. "Fine," you relented, leaning in to close the distance between you. Your lips brushed against his in a soft, quick peck, and you felt him smile against you.

When you finally pulled back, he looked far too pleased with himself.

"See?" tone smug. "Much better payment than credits."

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[ramp-it-up]

Peach, Part IV

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' best friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky because it's the right thing to do. And now he is in love. With you. He wants to move forward with you and now he's got you on his turf.

Pairing: Art Dealer/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: I love these two with my whole heart. This is turning into the slowest of burns, sorry not sorry. This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in the Bucky Barnes fic Worth the Fall and the Steve Rogers fic Peach III. We're at the second week of December, there is still so much in my head to say. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, Mutual pining, idiots in love, drinking, body parts tingling, wild wild thoughts of breeding, taking each other down in various ways, and cock riding. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

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--------

On one of your many walks along the beach, you teased your cousin about being the future Mrs. Bucky Barnes, and she tried to get you to talk about Steve, explaining some of the backstory to what happened in Atlanta.

But you were intransigent. 

“Look. I know how stubborn you are. And how tough you are, because you’ve had to be. But I also know how big your heart is and how worthy you are of love. You are passing up on the chance to find your one true love.”

You scoffed.

“Love? Everyone can’t be all starry eyed and head over heels like you and Bunny boy.”

She laughed and shook her head at your nickname for Bucky, who you’d grown to like a lot over the weekend. 

“And Steven, disguised at Grant, just wanted to get in my panties, which he achieved.”

You looked toward the waves as you thought about how Grant got you to see fireworks that night in your apartment, and the things Steve said that he wanted to do to you the other night.

“I have no doubt that Steve Rogers wants to fuck you girl. Look at you. You are fine as fuck.”

You laughed at your cousin dressing you down and gassing you up at the same time. 

“But let’s be clear. You wanted to fuck him too. You still do. I see the way you look at him.”

“Hey! I didn’t lie–”

“Ah-ah!”

She silenced you with a finger.

“I know he lied about who he was, but were you completely honest with him? Totally?”

You side eyed your cousin as you imagined strangling her. But you weren’t eleven years old anymore.

And she wasn’t wrong.

“Yes, Steve lied, but he wants to make amends. He has feelings for you.”

You gave your cousin a side eye.

“Did he tell you that? And you trust him?”

“With my life.”

She put her arm around you and pulled you close as you walked. 

“Listen, I know you are guarding your heart, but I know Steve. He’s got this exterior that seems one way, but he will surprise you. He’s a really, really good guy.”

You sighed, still not there yet.

“I’m good on that, cousin.”

“Okay. I’ll tell him that you have a heart of stone and that he should move on. It’s not like there aren’t bitches lined up to suck his dick every day in the city…”

A jolt of jealousy zipped through you, but you pushed it down. You just took a deep breath and gave her an overly bright smile. 

“I don’t care who slobs on his lil’ knob.”

She rolled her eyes at you.

“Riiggght, cousin. Anyway. You are still taking the endowment money right?”

You raised your eyebrow at her and nodded.

“Nothing is going to get in the way of this dream, cousin.”

She grinned back at you, almost as bright as the sun.

“That’s my girl! We gon’ have a time in New York City…”

—

Sunday morning before you drove back to Atlanta, you went to the kitchen just as Steve came back in from a run on the beach. The rest of the family was going to Church and then he, Bucky and your cousin were going to fly back to New York on the private jet. 

“Hey.”

He chucked his chin up at you like you were one of his bros.

The audacity. 

“Hello.”

You kept it cute as he moved around you to grab a glass to get some water from the tap. The scent of sweat, ocean air, and him wrapped around you and you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes to savor it. It was like you were lost. 

You opened your eyes to find him watching you as he downed the glass in one gulp, a drop of water escaping and rolling down his chin to his neck and disappearing into the already wet collar of his tight t-shirt.

You cleared your throat as he maintained eye contact with you and wiped his lips with his thumb, and some unseen force made you watch those thick fingers that felt you up not a month before, your nipples tight and panties wet.

Damn, this man and his effect on you.

You stared as his eyes swept down your body as if he knew what you looked like naked. He had seen you dance, and felt you up over and under your clothes, but that wasn’t what the look of possession was about. 

This man wanted you.

—-

Steve almost ran back outside when he saw you in the kitchen as he came in. He’s taken a run to calm the erection he had when he woke up because of you, and now, here you were, dressed almost exactly the same as when he had the opportunity to kiss you and make you cum in his arms exactly 29 days earlier.

Yes, he was keeping count.

Steve was practically speechless, yet he managed to get out a crude, ‘Hey’ and a head motion as a greeting. What was that?

He wanted close to you, to feel your skin against his lips again, to check and see if you were wet, which you were judging from your slightly open lips and blown pupils. He didn’t go near you as he got a drink however, because no matter how much he was into knife and gun play, he wasn’t going there. 

Steve wanted in your heart, not just your pants.

When you closed your eyes and visibly inhaled (probably to calm your anger, he imagined), he used the opportunity to watch your chest rise and watch the sunlight play on your skin. Those beautiful eyes caused his heart to clench when you opened them and he couldn’t tear his away as he drank his water. 

Which he needed at the moment. Desperately.

Unconsciously, he wiped his lips with his thumb, remembering the texture of you as he did so. You cleared your throat, snapping him out of it.

“Peach…”

He stopped, waiting for your retort. You just stood there, expectant and although he was shocked as shit, he continued.

“I want to apologize for lying to you and for allowing things to get…physical while you believed a lie.”

You watched him for what seemed like a long time, but was really only seconds.

“I accept your apology, Steve, and I believe in forgiveness, if only for myself being able to move on, but I’m not ready to forget or fully trust you.” Steve nodded.

“I get it. I’m really sorry.”

You shrugged.

“I know you were trying to help Bucky get clean for my cousin, and I love her big, so, I can’t stay mad. And it’s clear that you are ride or die for those you love.”

And then you cocked your head at him in that adorable way and his heart crumbled into the sparkly bits of honey in your eyes. 

“I feel like you love my cousin. Like family. So I guess that makes us family too.”

When you gave him a small smile, he smiled back dreamily. He was a teenage boy in your presence.

“I guess you’re right.”

Steve thought of family and a vision of you as a mother had him in a chokehold. You had him raging hard and wanting to bend you over the kitchen island and breed you until his seed dripped down your legs. Instead, he moved behind it to hide his condition. 

“We will have to be in contact because of the endowment, which I am taking because of my students and the fact that it’s been my dream since I was 12 years old. It was then that I started being told that I was all wrong. My ass was too big. My breasts were too bouncy. I didn’t have a ‘desirable dance body.’” 

Steve’s eyes openly scanned you. He looked angry, then scoffed. 

“That's ridiculous.” 

“Of course it is.” 

“Don't change a thing. That would be criminal.” 

You paused and then gave him a slightly larger smile then.

“Believe me, I'm not planning to change myself. I’m planning on changing the world.” 

Steve stared at you, astounded at your fierce courage. No one else could compare.

“I’m serious. I know that sounds grandiose, but I want to leave my mark. I started a dance company so that any body with talent can get on a stage and have a career, regardless of their shape and size. That’s why I’m accepting the endowment. We can be business partners if it means those dreams can come true.”

You were a force. Damn, that only made Steve love you more.

“Brava, Peach.”

You stared back into those baby blues and coughed, trying to clear your throat from the lump that had formed there. Your goals and dreams always made you get intense.

“Need some water?”

Steve was already reaching for another glass. His eyes went wide as you reached for his and finished off what was left in it. He almost came at the thought of your lips where his had been. Holy mother of god.

“That hit the spot, thanks.”

You licked your lips and he nearly fainted, and as you turned toward the stairs, giving him a view of your backside, and looked back at him, he almost ethered to the sky.

“See you next week, Mr. Rogers. Have a safe flight.”

—-

Steve felt frantic the entire seven days leading up to the day he’d see you again. He and Sam and Nat and Bucky had lots of work to do, but he felt like a bumbling idiot, because his perfectionism was getting in the way. 

Bucky saw the barriers Steve’s mind was putting in his way and spent extra time helping him. That’s why Bucky was his brother, Steve’s only family since his mother died when he was a kid.

They worked day and night, it seemed, to be ready for the summit.

Steve managed to take a few minutes to himself each night, sketching before he slept. The images of you that came from the lead of his pencil soothing his spirit and filling his dreams. They also caused him to wake up with a stiff reminder of your feel and smell in his nostrils.

Steve Rogers couldn’t wait to see his Peach again.

—--

You kept checking the emailed itinerary on the phone as you tried to relax in business class. All of the endowment recipients were arriving in New York around the same time period in the afternoon, and you were being picked up and chauffeured to your hotel, then three hours later, to a reception at a club in the Rebirth Building. 

Then, you would be left to your own devices for dinner and to turn in or turn up. Turning up with your cousin was the only option.

You decided to try and catch some zzzz’s on the plane so you wouldn’t be too tired later. You also wanted to calm your nerves. This was a big deal for your dance school, you told yourself. You weren’t nervous about seeing Steve Rogers again on his turf. 

Not at all. 

—---

The driver that picked you up from the airport, complete with your name on a placard, Nico, was super nice.  You were surprised that your cousin was in the car. You two squealed and talked and laughed on the way, and you were in such a good mood that you didn’t pay much attention when she addressed him by his first name very familiarly. He must be a very friendly guy.

Your check-in at the 1 Hotel Brooklyn was a breeze. The concierge let you know that you checked in at the right time; you happened to be upgraded to a one bedroom suite with a view of the New York skyline and the Statue of Liberty. The king sized bed looked like a dream, so you took a nap before you got ready for the evening. You wanted to be at your best amongst the other five Endowment awardees.

—-

You walked into the bar, Bea, and you were struck at how gorgeous it was, and how masculine.

There was rich mahogany wood everywhere, and the bartop material was a dark black honed marble. There were luxurious upholstered leather chairs and booths throughout and floor to ceiling wine coolers. 

You were looking around in awe as a young woman came up and handed you a name tag.

“You must be Ms. YLN. Welcome.”

You greeted her as your cousin smirked at you. She grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing wait staff.

“How…”

You gaped at her.

“All staff have been briefed on all of you. Nothing but the best this week.”

“Oh. Okay…” She giggled as you continued your inspection of the place. Steve and ‘nem had more money than you thought. A lot more. A thought crossed your mind.

“Wait. Do you work for them?”

You narrowed your eyes at your cousin as she rolled hers.

“Well, tangentially. Bucky funded our Howard Benson exhibit at the Center and so I’ve worked with Rebirth on some Harlem Renaissance initiatives around Brooklyn and the other boroughs. I’ve also een helping Bucky and the crew prepare for this week.”

“Ah. Okay.”

You took a sip of your drink and continued your perusal.

It was your cousin’s turn now.

“Listen, bitch.You’ve got to chill. No one is out to get you, especially me.”

Your cousin looked halfway angry. But she was still adorable.

“You’re so fucking cute. Love looks good on you.”

You smiled at her serenely and she shook her head at you, knowing you too well. 

“Don’t give me your shit, Peach. I was there in Hilton Head. You will act like you have some sense.”

“I’m civilized, cousin. Steve and I had a talk before I left. I’m chilling.”

“You better.”

She pointed to the gathering crowd in the room.

“Now go network.”

—--

Your laugh. It gave Steve goosebumps.

He hadn’t heard your full laugh much in Atlanta, just some low, sexy chuckles, because you two hadn’t talked much. And you certainly weren’t happy when he showed up at your family’s house. But you seemed much more relaxed this evening and Steve decided that it was his favorite thing in the world.

He spotted you as soon as you walked in with your cousin and she was beautiful as always. 

But you.

When you finally noticed him, you seemed surprised, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, but not angry at all. He gained hope, and stood up straight, wondering if he looked good to you because you were certainly a vision to his eyes. 

The outfit you were wearing was classy, yet could not hide that body from the eyes that studied it every chance he got. Which was every time he saw you.

As you mingled, and he shmoozed, he consistently had to force his eyes away from your tempting curves, your gorgeous face, the sound of your voice. And that fucking laugh. It wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed, seeped into his soul and spread warmth. 

Not to mention the effect you had on his cock. 

You were a fucking vision in black wide-legged leather pants and a plain white tee that hugged your mouthwatering tits, accessorized with red pointy heels a red clutch and an off white wool trench coat. The edgy outfit was very appropriate for the art world and although you were all covered up, your body wasn’t hidden from him, only accentuated. To top it off, your normally coily hair was straightened and loosely curled, calling for his fingers to slide through the thick strands. 

It’s your eyes that got to him, though, those fucking beautiful eyes that he longed to see hazy with the pleasure he was giving you. He maintained eye contact with you as he thought his lurid thoughts, and raised his drink in a salute. You smiled at him and raised your drink in response and his heart soared.

Although he wanted to be near you immediately, he decided to give you some space. He didn’t want to force anything. Well, maybe he wanted to force his thick cock into your tiny cunt. 

He licked his lips, then shook his head and scowled at Bucky as he noticed Steve staring at you. But he didn’t stop.

Careful now, Steve told himself. Take it slow. 

—--

You mingled and met some of your fellow recipients. They were a diverse group of people from all over the country, but most seemed type cool. There was one who latched on to you, Sharon Carter. She was a photographer from Memphis and was very chatty. She was glued to your side as you made the rounds and you weren’t too mad. She just didn’t shut up.

“How do you like your room? A double with a view of the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. And after a three hour coach flight. Fancy.”

You sipped your drink and Sharon’s sarcasm. Your mind started whirling.

“Get a load of those beautiful people right there. Those are our benefactors.”

You looked to where she was indicating and were surprised to see Steve, dressed in and standing with Bucky, another tall handsome man with a low cut fade, and a petite fit redhead woman. They all looked to belong on a movie poster.

But Steve.

He was leaned against the bar, arms crossed over his broad chest, perfectly tailored dark green sport coat and black wool sweater, hugging his broad shoulders and trim waist like nobody’s business. His dark slacks were hanging on for dear life to those massive thighs, and his thick dark blond hair was tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it all day. You liked his hair cut short in the back with the length on top. There was still something to grab on to.

Damn him. It should be illegal for a man to look that fucking good, especially at this hour, with you already having had two glasses of champagne.…

You caught eye contact with Steve and your world spun for a second as you connected across the room. His eyes… God, his eyes. 

Those steely blues were blazing with a heat that you could feel in your pussy, somehow containing a hunger that threatened to consume you. He stood up straight, and if you didn’ know any better, you would have thought that he flexed a little as he stared at you. Your pussy thought so, but your brain thought he wouldn’t try to hurt you like that. 

He did, however, raise his glass to you and you couldn’t help but respond in kind.

You turned your attention to Bucky as he started to speak, and grabbed a bottle of water from a waiter, thinking you needed a clear head when you had to actually talk to Steve and not just acknowledge him from across the room.

"Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the Rebirth Art Foundation’s annual celebration of creativity and innovation in the arts. This is a gathering to honor six extraordinary artists whose talent, vision, and hard work have earned them a place among the most promising creators of our time….”

You watched your cousin who was totally enraptured by what Bucky was saying. You got a warm feeling as you saw what true love looked like. You smirked as you saw her make her way over to him as Nat stepped up to speak. You were so happy for your fam. 

“Now Bucky Barnes is a snack. Wonder if he’s taken?”

You side eyed the hussy and then pointed at your cousin, who hadn’t made it to Bucky yet.

“I think that’s his wife or something right there.”

Sharon took a sip of her drink and wrinkled her nose.

“Ha! Nice joke. But I don’t think they go together, meaning they don’t match. Get it?”

You stared daggers at her. This bitch. Then you glanced at your cousin and her man again.

“You might want to tell him that, because he looks like he’s about to take her tonsils out with his tongue.”

Sharon’s mouth dropped open to see them making out in a corner. You couldn’t help but laugh as she shrugged, then brightened when Steve gained the mic. 

“Never mind him. Steve Rogers is the entire meal. I have it on good authority that his dick is big.”

You looked from her to Steve, a sinking feeling in your stomach. Were you going to catch a case in New York City over a man that was not your man?

Or was he your man?

“Good evening, and welcome. It’s an honor to have you all here as we celebrate six incredible artists who are pushing the boundaries of what’s possible in the art world and are poised to change the entire world.”

Steve looked straight at you then, and you held his gaze for that fraction of a second as he raised his eyebrow as electricity zapped between you before his eyes continued around the room. 

Sharon was forgotten momentarily and you bit your lip. Whew. You had to refrain from fanning yourself as he continued.

“At Rebirth, we believe that art is more than just a medium—it’s a force that connects us, challenges us, and shapes our future. This week, I encourage you to not only take in everything around you but also to share your unique perspectives. Creation, art, and collaboration are the soul of this foundation, and I’m excited to see what bonds form this week. Congratulations once again, and let’s make something amazing together!”

“Come on, now is the time to meet them. Maybe I can make something amazing with Steve Rogers tonight.”

You let yourself be dragged over to where the four were standing as Sam was finishing his welcome and you introduced yourself to each as you tried to listen to Sharon simping.

Each person smiled warmly at you, and Bucky pulled you in for a hug, which made Sharon side eye you both, but only for a moment as her attention turned to Steve.

“Mr. Rogers, I’m Sharon Carter. You know my Aunt Peggy.”

Steve blanched.

“Peggy? Your… Aunt?”

Sharon laughed, a little shrilly to your ears.

“Yes. She’s my mother’s half sister. Born to the second wife, 18 years younger than my mom. They weren’t that close. But Peggy and I are just like sisters.”

“Oh.”

Steve looked a little trapped.

“Didn’t know that. It’s a small world.”

Peggy leaned closer to him, but you heard her stage whisper.

“Don’t worry, I won’t share the secrets she told me…”

Steve looked at her like she was crazy and then looked at you, almost in panic. You could see the anxiety in his eyes, so you decided to rescue him.

“Mr. Rogers. Hi. ”

The huskiness of your voice, the way his name sounded on your tongue. It calmed him and sent a lightning bolt of desire through him. Steve wanted to hear you call him that in a very different context.

Steve’s face changed when he looked at you. He shifted toward you, much to Sharon’s chagrin.

“My name is Y/N Y/LN, and it’s so good to finally meet you. I hope that this is the start of a great partnership.”

Steve cocked his eyebrow at you and smiled as you took his hand. You initiating touch with him was the start of his wet dreams of late. His thumb stroked your hand as he held it. 

“I hope so too, Ms. Y/LN. I’ve been meaning to talk to you…”

“Please, call me Peach, Mr. Rogers.”

Nat came around and distracted Sharon as Steve put his hand on the small of your back to guide you to the side of the bar to talk. His smell enveloped you and his touch had you walking carefully, because your knees were weak.

“What did you want to talk about Mr. Rogers?”

He shook his head, his eyes dark now.

“Call me Steve, Peach, please.”

His voice was rougher, and impossibly deeper as he begged, and it sent chills straight to your pussy. You cocked your head and he in turn licked his lips.

“Why?”

“Because if you keep calling me Mr. Rogers, I–”

He stopped and your lust-addled brain filled in the gaps. Your lips parted on a soft inhale. Steve, on the other hand, inhaled sharply.

And then exhaled slowly.

“How was your flight?”

Steve thought it best to talk of the mundane, because he was half a second from bending you over the bar in front of all these people. 

“It was… great. I appreciated the business class seat.”

His eyebrow shot up.

“You got upgraded? How fortunate.”

“Ummmmhmmm. So you didn’t know?”

“Promise.”

Steve’s mouth quirked up in a half smile, because he knew you didn’t trust him, but you were so cute when you were grilling him.

“And you didn’t know about the upgrade at the hotel?”

“No…”

“I have a king suite with a killer view of the city.”

Steve grinned now and you almost shielded your eyes.

“Seems you’re lucky.”

You stared into his eyes to see if he was lying, but you didn’t see anything there but feelings you didn’t want to name. But because of your history, you still didn’t trust what he said. Nevertheless, you decided to let it go. There was something else you needed to know.

“So, who’s Peggy?”

Steve grimaced.

“She’s someone I knew a long time ago. We were close. Once. But not anymore.”

You just kept looking at him.

“She’s moved on, married to a rich guy on the west coast. And I’ve moved on as well.”

You straightened up as he gazed down at you. You didn’t know why you cared so much. And you didn’t want to analyze his last sentence.

“Oh.”

Now, Steve was smiling down at you like he thought you were jealous.

Which was absurd. 

And he looked as if he was happy about that ridiculous idea.

You were right.

Steve was jumping for joy on the inside at the way you reacted to hearing about Peggy. He didn’t expect to think about her, much less have to explain her to you tonight, but if it led to you realizing you had feelings for him, he was glad of Sharon’s connection. And the way she ran her mouth, although it was annoying.

“You good, Peach?”

You weren’t good. You found yourself wanting to show Steve your suite, especially the ceiling, as you rode his cock on the king sized bed so as to make him forget about any other pussy ever existing. But you must have been tweaking.

You needed to get out of there.

You turned around and went to find your cousin.

“I’m great Mr. Rogers. You have a good night.”

And Steve was left watching you walk away again.

——

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[dinogoofymutated]

Okay, since requests are open, I wanted to ask for something, especially after seeing that you are comfortable with most male characters.

I present:

Scott Summers x fem!reader who's just a little too rebelious and annoying for his taste but he still can't help but love her? Like, enemies to lovers kind of style?

If you want to do a oneshot or headcanons is up to you, I'm just starving for Scott content.

Don't know, if you wanna do is, especially since he's not everyone's cup of tea, but I thought "hey, give it a try, maybe she wants to try someting different" so here I go

Anyway, love your work, you#re amazing <3

Cyclops/GN!Reader I've had this prompt saved in my drafts for SO LONG. Basically since the moment it came in!! I was so happy you sent this in bc i had been thinking about writing for Scott, but then I couldn't think of a good enough way to carry this out so I waited on it for a good bit until I had it down to a science!! Hope you enjoy!! Man, I started writing this and then realised I had to make a banner for him too 😭 I did this to myself tho Most of the characters I write for are written as combinations from different x-men media, but I'm still figuring out how I want to characterise Scott since he's a new character for me. Just wanted to put this out there in case I change how I write for him in future fics. (also, let me know how you feel about him in this one! Tell me if yall think I should tweak his attitude a bit :) ) Edit from the future: I started this draft so long ago and damn did it turn out long. TWs: Idk at the moment, will add if I think of any! Reader has a specific power that is kinda vague at first. I've written them out at the very bottom BUT if u read u will spoil the surprise of the fic so fair warning

Scott does not like you. At least, not anymore.

You've known each other for a long time, both coming to Xavier's school within weeks of each other. You used to be friends- or at least friendly. But as you both grew and learned more about yourselves and your powers, a gap began to form, and then continued to grow once both of you became members of the x-men.

It's not like he didn't notice your tendency for rebellious behavior before, but on the field? the two of you clashed more than ever. He's doing his best out here, and the last thing he needs as a leader is both you and Logan going out of your way to put yourselves in dangerous situations because you think you know better.

And the moment you get back to the mansion? You clash all over again- and over the dumbest things. You practically avoid him all of the time, refuse to spar with him unless you're forced, will scoot away from him if he has to sit next to you on game nights. It's like the very thought of brushing against him is enough to get under your skin.

The moment the blackbird lands, you should have known what to expect. But you're in such a good mood, with the mission having gone well despite all odds. Sure, you didn't exactly follow Cyclops' foolproof plan, but when did you ever?

Scott is standing at the end of the ramp when the doors open, watching with a rather sour look on his face as you laugh with Jubilee, the others trailing shortly behind. He crosses his arms, and you barely stop short of him, acting like you had never seen him in the first place as you sigh, nodding at the others to go ahead before finally turning to him and crossing your own arms.

"Go ahead. Say your piece." You say. It only stokes the irritation in him, and he scowls.

"You can't go one, single mission and actually listen to what I say, can you?" He snaps. You roll your eyes, knowing that if he had it his way, you'd never have gone on the mission at all. Still, you stand defiantly, unwilling to back down.

"Look, you weren't even there, you can't expect me to-"

"It would be different if I was there, but I wasn't." Scott interrupts you, and the aggravation it lights in you is practically all-consuming. You can't hold back your scowl. "You were the only senior member of the team on that plane, do you understand how detrimental it could have been if you had gotten hurt, or worse?!" Oh, what a load of horseshit. It's alway the boy scout schtick with him- I'm the leader, do what I say, If I was there none of this would have happened- what an asshole! Hell, in the second half you might have actually thought he was concerned for you and the team, but you knew better.

"Don't act like you actually give a damn, Summers." You snap. "Everyone is fine, no one got hurt, I don't see your problem." You're done with this. You're tired, sweaty, exhausted, and the last thing you want to be doing right now is talking with him. You knock shoulders with him as you brush past, but he reaches out and grabs you by the arm. You feel a mix of strong emotions- anger, concern, frustration- and thoughts swim in your head, before snatching your arm away from him like you'd been burned. He pauses for a second as you whip around and look at him, a rage in your eyes. He still looks at you with that stupid, stubborn look on his face.

"I get that you think I'm just some stuck-up asshole, but there's a reason I get angry when you do something reckless." His voice has lost the smallest a bit of fire. You scoff at him immediately, before turning away to storm out.

"Eat shit."

So no. things weren't exactly cool between you two.

It's not like you weren't friends at some point though, back when you were kids. You didn't know what happened to cause this rift, but he only really thought of you as some reckless idiot as of late, and you didn't care to learn anything else about what was going on in his brain.

Unfortunately, that didn't mean you could avoid him forever. Not when the both of you are on a team.

You only realise how much pain you're in when the blackbird's autopilot clicks on. Your suit was scuffed and worn in some areas, starting to burn at the edges of your sleeves as the protective coating started to wear away. You noticed it in the midst of battle, trying to focus on manipulating debri to a colder temperature rather than a hot one, but sometimes you can't afford to be picky in fights. Your suit may have been temperature resistant, but you were temperature invulnerable. Besides, heat did the most damage anyway.

You frown a bit at the sight of your burnt sleeves. Normally, you'd be worried that Hank would be mad at having to make a new suit again, but if anything you were sure he'd be grateful for the challenge of improving it. Scott was really the only one who would scold you for it, always coming back to the same arguments of being too reckless, ect, ect... and speaking of Scott, he was being awfully quiet right now.

The cockpit is empty exempt for the two of you, being the only two assigned to the mission. Scott is sat in the pilot's chair, and you can't really see much of him besides the top of his head. He's silent, and it makes you worried.

When you stand and walk. over to him, his face looks pained. You're sure his eyes are closed under his signature visor, his head leaning back limply in the chair, hair tussled. You furrow your eyebrows. You knew he'd be tired, but he's not usually this burned out.

"Scott? You alright?" You ask. he only hums in response. It's then when you realise what's wrong.

"Migraine?" You ask, and he hums in the affirmative. You wince at the thought. You knew he got migraines often, especially when using his mutation more than usual, and having migraines yourself, you knew he was hurting. You take a look at where the emergency aid box usually is, knowing it had painkillers, but the space is empty, and you sigh to yourself when you remember you used it on a local- Scott agreeing with you for once when you wanted to leave it with them for any more emergencies. You look back at Scott, and think for a moment more.

Scott jumps when you place a cold hand on his forehead, having settled your weight on the back of the chair behind him. It sparks a feeling of surprise.

"What are you doing?" Scott asks, and instead of his usual accusatory tone, he just sounds tired.

"Don't be a baby." You respond, chilling both hands and combing through his hair gently. Scott is confused as all hell. Why were you doing this? You go out of your way to avoid him at any cost, and then... this? What even was this?

But... he'd be lying if it didn't feel nice. Scott begins to relax underneath you as you continue to comb through his scalp, pressing gentle touches to his forehead as you do so. It's... it feels good.

"My mom used to do this when I was little." You say softly, after a long moment of silence. "Whenever I had a migraine, she'd run her hands under cold water for a long time, lay my head in her lap, and run her hands through my hair. The cold usually helped." Scott's shoulder's are sagging now, and he sighs every once in a while. Although he doesn't say anything, you don't need to ask. There's a question beginning to brim, but you answer it before he can even speak- saving him the effort of talking in the midst of his pain.

"...And it just felt nice to feel her play with my hair, I guess. 'figured it might help you, too."

You try not to dwell on whatever thoughts begin to swirl after that.

It's hard to tell when things shift after that. Even harder for Scott to understand why.

Eventually you go from avoiding him at any given chance, stiff and petty with your actions, to casual. Not quite friendly, but almost.

"And... Right hand red!" Jubilee calls from the couch, having entirely too much fun for someone who isn't even playing this game. Everyone who's already lost has dispersed, either playing a different game or having good conversation. The game of twister had started with four? Maybe five of you? But at the moment, it was just down to you and Scott. -The two of you being way too competitive to let the other win. At the moment, both of you were in a bit of a strange position, with Scott managing to crawl over you at some point. Aside from that, the game had been going on for uncomfortably long- long enough for the pizza to get here.

The doorbell rings and it's pretty instantaneous when people start to flock to the kitchen for the feast, Jubilee included. There's a flicker of panic in both of you as she quickly leaves.

"Hey!-"

"Jubilee! Wait!"

"You'll be fine, you big babies!" She calls out, giggling in her pursuit of the cheesy goodness. That just leaves you and Scott on the matt, pressed together in some places and a but uncomfortable, but awkwardly? Still competeting.

"God, that pizza smells good." Scott groans from above you, the smell of food becoming more and more tempting. You think about it, for a half a second maybe, but that competitive little devil on your shoulder gets to you before your stomach can.

"You know what? why don't you go ahead and grab a piece!" You say, causing Scott to cock an eyebrow at you.

"What, and let you win? Not a chance." He huffs. You shrug best you can, it was worth a shot! Neither of you were going to budge any time soon, determined not to let the other win. But the longer you stayed pressed together...

It's not like you hadn't noticed how handsome Scott was. Hell, who wouldn't? Even Logan isn't immune to his good looks, but obviously you weren't going to be... wierd, about it. You're just playing a game, right? But the sight of him above you, slightly flushed, shifting every once in a while while keeping his balance? It was... tempting.

It doesn't take long for other thoughts to begin swimming around, worming their way into your mind. The two of you in various states of undress... gasping, gripping onto one another... marks on his neck, your lips swollen and stained by the lipstick your wearing tonight.

Each and every thought leaves you more flustered than before, slipping on the plastic mat and accidentally knocking into one of Scott's weight bearing arms and sending the two of you colliding into the floor. You hear Scott let out a noise of pain and you're not down there for long before you shove him off of you, face burning as you grumble about his win. You stalk off without much fanfare, leaving Scott a bit befuddled.

"What was that all about?"

But regardless of how aggravated you made eachother sometimes, everyone has their breaking point...

You're surprised when Scott kisses you in the hall some weeks later, less than a second after a heated spat started to take a bit of a turn, but to be honest? You were into it.

His lips are soft, if a little chapped, heated kisses full of force and urgency before they soften just a little. You kiss him back in a similar manner his hands falling to your waist as you grab him by the collar and pull him even closer. You're quick to start moving the two of you backwards fumbling for a closet door you could have sworn was right... there.

As soon as the door swings open, you pull him inside, pushing him against the wall once it closes again and cupping the back of his neck as you pull him into another kiss. An unfamiliar feeling of warmth shoots through you as you do, and you almost giggle as his thoughts start to flood with more and more tempting situations for the two of you to be in.

After each and every dirty thought he has, you start to wonder if he even remembered your touch telepathy after having known you for so long- but hell, even if he didn't, you weren't complaining.

If u made it this far, I wanna give u details about the Reader's powers some more!! Specifically, the powers are temperature manipulation/temperature invulnerability/touch telepathy! They get a bit complicated bc reader can't light shit on fire or make ice out of the air, but they can melt shit and freeze existing water though! As long as reader touches it in some way! Due to this they're invulnerable to heat/cold for obvious reasons. Touch telepathy was added bc i love mutations with unnecessary layers (Emma frost) and... u really think I was gonna let scott get away without banging another telepath? wrONG

[melwsnt]

BIRTHDAY BOY; DEAN WINCHESTER

summary. It’s dean’s birthday, and you know he’s never been celebrated the way he deserves to be.

—Dean being cute.. a baby girl, if you’d like. He’s so sweet in this I’m weeping

a/n. If you’re reading this THANK YOU! thought it was only fair I’d write something since it’s my man’s birthday. He deserves to be celebrated in every lifetime even the one’s where he’s not real. Don’t hesitate to interact with this as much as you can that’d be lovely x Sam and Bellamy imagines are coming soon👀

You knew it was hard for Dean to admit- well pretty much anything. He didn’t talk about his feelings whether they were physical, in terms of friendships and even worse if it came to a woman.

You knew he loved you- you knew he loved Sam. He didn’t have many people left to love- to be honest. Most were dead- but he’d say that’s just because life’s a bitch.

And maybe he’d be right. Life is a bitch. But this mindset wasn’t a good look on him. You wanted him to feel- to let you in, to just tell you he felt the same way you did even though you knew he did. Everybody knew. You figured it was a matter of time before he’d confess, after all these years of tension, pining, acting like a married couple who bickered every single day over stupid stuff.. he’d get tired of it eventually. He’d want you to be his.

You’d been with the brothers for as long as you remembered. Sure you’d celebrated his birthday by bringing a pie, two to be honest. One for him to eat alone, and the other for you and Sam to share- because baby came first- pie came second- and then you guessed maybe you and Sam came third. At least you hoped you’d made the rank alongside Sam.

But you also knew that he didn’t like being celebrated. He didn’t think he deserved it- and he sure as hell wasn’t used to it. You don’t even think he’s ever had a birthday party thrown for him. Ever.

The bunker was quiet. It was just you, trying not to fall on your face putting up the decorations.

The food was on the table, all ready to be devoured but the two men- you knew they wouldn’t last long and you’d even saved a piece of cake and a piece of pie for you- since you were the reason they were there anyway.

The creak of the bunker’s door startled you, as you jumped from the chair, ready to greet the boys. Sam knew- and was an accomplice. He was supposed to get Dean outside, go to the library to study on some books they apparently didn’t have in the bunker- which took Dean a little bit of time to not call bullshit.

You could hear them descending the stairs as you stood in the middle of the kitchen- frankly looking like a clown. You were excited, although a little bit scared- not of Dean himself- but you didn’t want him to feel obligated. You hoped he wouldn’t hate it.

‘So what do you think? Wendi-’ Dean’s question was cut short when he entered the kitchen and laid eyes on you.

‘Woah. What the hell is this?’ He asked, looking around.

‘You’re the birthday boy, aren’t you?’ You smiled sweetly at him, trying to catch a glimpse of reaction from him.

‘You- this is for me?’ Dean looked starstruck. That wasn’t a usual look on him. You’d never seen him look so- hopeful. His eyes almost glistened as to say thank you for this. He couldn’t believe you’d done this for him.

Sam chuckled as Dean threw a look over his shoulder.

‘You were a part of this? Damn it, Sam.’

Your smile flattered. You thought this was it- he wasn’t happy about it. You were better off just never celebrating the man he was.

You were about to apologize- but he cut you off.

‘You guys are insane, you know that? Thank you. Was that your idea?’ He looked over at you, his eyes still glistening. He looked emotional, you weren’t used to seeing him like this.

‘Yeah. I figured you deserved it. We’ve never done it like this before.. I’m sorry if this is too much.’

Dean stepped closer to you, nodding his head.

‘No. This is great. At least he didn’t blow the surprise.’ Dean snickered throwing a look at Sam.

‘I gotta go change. I’ll leave you two a minute.’ Sam said as he made his way out the kitchen. Before he stepped out of it, he put his thumb up. Encouraging you.

‘Did you do that all by yourself?’ Dean asked- though the answer was obvious- because he and Sam were out, he still couldn’t believe you had.

‘Yeah. I’ve been at it for 2 hours. I wanted the pie to be perfect, you know..’

‘You cooked that?’

‘Yeah. Like I said, I wanted it to be perfect. You always say the one’s we buy at the store are always too soggy. I figured it was your birthday so you should have a good pie.’

His heart skipped a beat. He figured maybe it was time. Time to let go, time to let you in, time to finally have the woman he’d been wanting and dreaming of all these years.

‘You know, if you’re in love with me, you can just say so, sweetheart.’ He didn’t mean it to come out like that. It’s not like he’d ever confessed his love before- this was new. He figured making light of the situation was his way of maybe crawling towards confessing after.

‘You’re an asshole you know that?’ You laughed as you hit his chest and started turning around.

Before your body could turn away from his, he grabbed your arm.

‘I meant it, earlier. Thank you. This is the nicest thing someone’s ever done for me.’ His serious look was back. He felt like he had to get everything out, or he’d burst.

‘You deserve it, Dean. Seriously. It’s not fair that we don’t celebrate birthdays in this life. Everybody deserves to be celebrated. Including you-Especially you.’ Your eyes softened as you decided to look anywhere but in his eyes. He was scary intimidating- you hated that sometimes.

‘I don’t deserve you, you know that? You’ve been putting up with me for way too long. It’s not fair to you.’ Dean’s hand was still on your arm- he was now tracing circles on it. You weren’t sure he even noticed he was doing it.

‘What do you mean? You guys mean the world to me. Of course I’m putting up with you.’ You knew what he meant. You figured maybe this was finally the time he’d tell you how he felt. Knowing it was good. But hearing it was better.

‘I mean- you know what I mean. I know you do.’ He felt like a 15 year old. He was giddy, nervous, felt like his knees were going to give away under his weight. He couldn’t get it out.

‘I do. I want to hear you say it, Dean. Please. I need this.’ You finally found the courage to look at him. His eyes were sweet, they looked at you like you were the most important thing in the world. In his world.

‘Do you remember that hunt we had last month with the vampires?’

‘Yeah. I almost died, of course i do.’

You knew where he was going.

‘Exactly. I almost lost you then. It wasn’t the first time, and it probably won’t be the last. You scared me. And I can’t have that. I can’t lose you, I mean it. I just- I can’t imagine doing this without you. I wouldn’t know how to do it.’ His eyes glistened with more than hope this time. He was truly scared of losing you. He couldn’t imagine a world where you weren’t with him. Where you weren’t his other partner in crime. Where you weren’t answering his questions with questions and sass. He couldn’t have that.

The knot in your stomach tightened.

Hesitantly, you put your hands on each side of his face.

‘I’m not going anywhere, Dean. You know damn well it’s gonna take more than a few vampires to take me out. You’re not getting rid of me. ‘

His left hand positioned itself on top of yours. His other one made its way to your hip.

‘Good. I don’t wanna. You really want me to say it, don’t you?’

‘I do. But I don’t want you to feel pressured. You don’t have to say it, I understand.’ Your eyes still looked in his.

‘No. I know I have to let you in. It scares me, but you’re it. I’ve- I’ve been in love with you since you started tagging along. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to never tell you. It’s just been unspoken since then. I didn’t know how to tell you.’

‘Don’t go soft on me, Dean. Plus, it was obvious. I know you do. I’ve known for a while. It was just hard navigating this without really talking about it, you know? I feel the same. I’m glad you finally told me.’ You smiled at him as his usual smirk found its way to his face again.

‘This is nice. I still can’t believe you threw me a birthday party.’

‘I think there’s still something missing here, birthday boy.’ Your hands moved to be around his neck. His hands now on your waist.

‘Oh yeah? What’s that?’

‘Well, I think you forgot to kiss the girl.’

Dean smiled, and didn’t hesitate to put his lips on yours.

It was sweet. He was sweet. The kiss wasn’t like you imagined it would be. It was slow, like he was taking it all in, like you were fragile and he didn’t want to break you.

He tasted like cigarettes, and mint. His tongue found its way into your mouth, as he hovered over you, your knees going weak.

That’s all you’d ever wanted.

‘Thank god for that damn birthday party.‘

[planetception]

Giving Juju Watkins a Lap Dance Headcannons (stripper reader)

Warnings: you're a stripper ig, mentions of nudity, some kind of mention of sex, kinda nsfw but like not nasty

AN: well i've decided to write for juju because there's just a lack of good stuff for her. anyways i hope yall enjoy and as always my requests are open :)

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༊*·˚ ok so starting off, i imagine you're a student at usc (shocking ikr). anyways its like you're a student by day and stripper by night

༊*·˚ ofc you know who the juju watkins is... i mean who doesn't? anyways this is just plot so moving on

༊*·˚ after another phenomenal game from juju, a few of her friends decide it's a great idea to book a little suit at the strip club that you dance at. being an athlete she was allowed to get in even if she was not 21 yet

༊*·˚ basically your boss assigned you to this little party. anyways the room had its private stage and stuff.

༊*·˚ so yeah, you start dancing seductively, even taking your top off. boobs spilling out of your almost too small of a bralette, making direct eye contact with a blushing juju.

༊*·˚ biting your lip you came down from the pole and walked down the stage, heading towards another pole. the girls started to throw money at you while you were grinding up against the pole.

༊*·˚ you were in a rhythm, tits out, money being thrown at you, gliding against the cold metal. the only thing covering your body was a tight light semi see through pink thong, paired with long high heels.

༊*·˚ you bit your lip again as you hopped off the stage and walked towards juju. once over there, you put your middle finger below her chin, pulling her head up to meet yours

"hm why so nervous sweetheart?" you asked, tilting your head to the side. "maybe a dance will help clear up some nerves?" you asked again. this time pulling her face forward.

༊*·˚ the basketball player nodded before you found comfort in her lap. you started to grind against her as you gave her a sensual lap dance, you were finding your rhythm as you got off her and bent over, revealing your perfect ass

༊*·˚ poor girl didn't even know what to do with herself. she couldn't help but just look at your ass, your hips, the way your thong was just so tight. her friends were egging her on to touch you

༊*·˚ i just imagine she would have enough of teasing and grab you by the hips, pulling you back down on her lap. she would slightly thrust her hips up a little just to meet yours

༊*·˚ you just continued to give her one of the best lap dances of your career, just letting her touch you all over the place

༊*·˚ eventually you concluded your little show, getting off of jujus lap you bit your lip again before slapping your ass and walking back up the stage and back to the pole as you started to dance again. making sure that your full attention was on juju

༊*·˚ later on in the night, her friends wanted to leave. thus concluding the little party, however you stopped juju and grabbed her by the chin again

"i can show you a better time back at my place sweetheart... give you a bit more, sexual dance?" you whispered into her ear as you shoved a little paper into the pocket of her pants containing your number.

"just stay here until after my shift... then we can go have some more fun, i'll even let you touch these." you whispered again, grabbing her hand and placing it on your boobs.

༊*·˚ you walked away, putting your top back on and grabbing the money that was thrown at you and tucked it into your thong and top.

༊*·˚ after your shift, you went to go meet juju in the private room before taking her home and giving her a bigger and better performance. right in the comfort of your own place

༊*·˚ when juju leaves in the morning, you make sure she keeps your contact in her phone. once she gets into her uber you send her a message

"had fun last night, call me when you want some fun xoxo ; )"

༊*·˚ followed up by a photo of you grabbing your boobs and squeezing them, bite marks and hickeys littered your perfect tits and you wouldn't have it any other way

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um... somehow i feel this is way more freaky than my caitlin headcannons i did a while ago. anyways i hope you all enjoy my fuckery and there will be more of this coming i guess. thanks for reading!

[s1nslxtc1ty]

Talkative

this was so fun to write i miss writing fics anyways enjoy!

Top Arthur Morgan x Bottom GN reader

Warning: NSFW, pretty vanilla, cute pet names, just sweet sex overall

Arthur Morgan wasn't much of a talkative man, he preferred peace and quiet, he enjoyed riding his horse out on his own, riding through the open fields, though he didn't mind a bit of a chat, but if you got too talkative then he'd quickly get annoyed — he didn't like to be bothered, to put it simply.

It's safe to say you were a little surprised at how talkative Arthur got during sex, grunting and whispering dirty things in your ear as he fucked into you.

"Bloody hell, sweetheart..." Arthur groaned in your ear, you laid on your back, legs either side of Arthur as he supported himself on his forearms above you, dick sliding in and out of you repeatedly, rubbing against your sweet spot again and again, making you cry out in pleasure.

You grabbed at his chest, fingers curling in the slight hair there, he kept himself groomed well, something you always enjoyed, though you told him you didn't mind his body hair, specifically his beard, you nearly cried when he had completely shaved his beard off one time.

He made sure to never shave it all off ever again.

"(Name)," he grunted in your ear, the way he said your name.. God.. you could come from just his voice alone, the idea of him giving you instructions as you touched yourself.. you'd definitely have to try that some time.

"Ah! Arthur!" you cried out, your nails dragging down his back, your nails were fairly short, but it was enough to leave red marks down his back, though they wouldn't leave marks, you didn't know whether to feel glad or upset that it wouldn't scar..

"Oh god! Oh god!" you moaned repeatedly, right in his ear. "Such a good little thing for me, ain't ya?" he said back, right in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"Ha-haah.. Arthur.." all you could focus on was his voice, you're so close, his voice tipping you over the edge.

"That's it.. just like that.." he groaned, filling you with his load, deep inside you as you came together, coming around his cock, your legs quivering and your whole body trembling violently before you collapsed back onto the bed.

Arthur slowly pulled out, the feeling made you twitch slightly, he rolled onto his back beside you, intertwining one of your sweaty hands with his own as you both caught your breath.

[rvlse]

Earthspark Bumblebee x fem reader nsfw where the reader is really sensitive and Bee uses that to his advantage to tease and make reader O multiple times.

(Literally in love with him)

HIII! So, I've been really busy with school for the past few weeks and I am so so sorry this took so long for me to write! I'm not gonna lie, this one kind of stumped me and I lowkey had no idea what to write for a while 😭

Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this, even though it may not be exactly as you imagined <3

(ES BUMBLEBEE X READER)

WORD COUNT: 753

WARNINGS: NSFW, overstimulation

You and Bee did this often. Late at night, while everyone was asleep. The two of you would sneak into the barn, and each time, you’d let Bee frag your circuits out. It was routine. 

Bee gave another deep thrust, and you heard him groan at the feeling. Your own arms were wrapped around his neck, letting him guide tonight’s session as your backstrut pressed against the wooden barn wall.

Bee was a gentlemech, and he knew how overstimulated you could get after just one round, so he always valued your comfort over his own pleasure.

Already, you could feel a ball of ecstasy building up in your tanks. You never lasted long; a curse.

“Bee..” You mumbled into his right audial. You didn’t need to say anything more. He already knew what you wanted. 

He gave you two more hard, deep thrusts, going all the way out and pushing all the way back in, perfectly hitting your G-spot. You let out an almost inaudible whimper, and followed it up with a moan that came straight from your core as Bee finished you off. Your whole frame seemed to shake with pleasure, and you clung onto the yellow mech like a tick. 

A few moments passed. It was nice and quiet now, just you and Bee, holding onto each other in peace.

Or so you thought.

Suddenly, Bumblebee grabbed onto your waist. You didn’t think anything of it at first, but then the mech lifted you, bringing you to rest on a stack of hay that was almost level with Bee’s chest.

“Uhm- Bee?” You questioned him. You trusted him, but you were still curious as to what he had in mind at the moment.

He didn’t reply to you, though, and instead brought his digits to your chest to push your upper body down so that you were laying on your backstruts. 

Confused, you just laid there and waited… until you felt a wet, hot, slimy structure prod at your entrance. 

Oh, slag. 

Panicked, you went to sit up, only to be pushed back down again. You thought he knew that you couldn’t handle more than one round. He definitely knew. There was no way he wouldn't. Unless.. He was obviously doing this on purpose. 

“B-Bee, you can’t- I’ll-” You started.

“I know,” Was all he replied with, before he stuck his glossa back in your still dripping valve.

Immediately overwhelmed with pleasure, you let out a rather loud moan. You slapped a servo over your intake, worried you might accidentally wake the Malto family. Whatever Bee was doing, it felt good… but you didn't know if you could handle it.

You stifled another whimper as Bee continued to abuse your overly-sensitive hole, and you swore you heard him mumble a “good girl” against your metal.

Being as delicate as you were, it didn't take long for you to feel another knot in your tank.

Bumblebee already knew you were close. Your legs would start to shiver each time you were… it was a response that Bee had caught onto over time.

The yellow mech dipped his glossa into your heat again, this time moving his wet muscle in the shape of an O inside you, and that’s all it took to get you to your second overload that night.

You almost screamed when it hit you, the sensations shaking you once again violently from helm to pede. 

After the shock, it was like you were immobilized. You lay there, panting, digits gripping the scratchy hay bales underneath you.

Lifting your helm a bit to watch your lover, you realized his servo was wrapped around his spike, getting himself off as he finished pleasing you. It was hot to watch. Bee’s faceplates were contorted in ecstasy, his optics low as he panted through his own release. 

You were so, so overwhelmed right now. Clearly, Bee was up to something, but you didn’t know if you had another overload in you. You were already way too sore.

“Too.. too much..” you whispered, tired and completely worn out.

You felt a servo embrace your faceplate, and then a soft kiss was placed on your forehelm. 

“I know,” Bee murmured in your audials, “that’s why tomorrow, I’ll be a little gentler with you. Get you to three overloads, yeah?” The yellow mech teased, bringing a flustered smile to your derma. Internally, you panicked. You didn’t even know if you would be able to walk tomorrow, much less go for three more rounds.

Wish yourself luck.

THANK YOU FOR READING! ENJOY YOUR DAY/NIGHT!

[writing-in-sin]

SONIC PRIME FIC IDEA: SOULBOUND

The idea came to me when I saw fanarts of Shadow being a literal shadow for Sonic and it got me thinking for a post-canon Sonic Prime Shadonic/Sonadow fic

This fic idea is loosely inspired by the ancient Egyptian beliefs about the soul as well as one of the myths where Atum was married to his shadow

Anyways, the basic premise is that since they're the only 2 from the original universe, Shadow's effort to save Sonic shattering from existence had unknowingly bind them together when they crossed over the Shatterspace of their universe.

Shadow not only saved Sonic but he became his anchor to their reality so that he won't shatter from existence ever again. This became evident to them when Sonic eventually realised that he no longer has a shadow

Or more precisely, Shadow is his shadow now. Literally

This of course has some interesting side effects for the both of them. The most prominent is the soul-bond they now share as well as some other abilities. One of them is how Shadow can attach himself to Sonic as his literal shadow that allows him to protect and fight with Sonic when needed

Also, instant teleportation to each other's location in case of emergencies (or spontaneous jump scares in Shadow's case because he wont admit he's got a dark sense of humour)

The effects may or may not allow Shadow to grow old and finally die when Sonic does since they're bound together now (look, I know immortality can be cool but I at least want Shadow to not be alone and to reunite with the people he loves, okay? So imma give him that)

So, yeah. I hope I can flesh this out and write it one day 😭🙏

[taeaura]

More TCM 2003/2006 Analysis because why not

TW: Yapping; Rape/Sa, Groping, Strong language, Gore, TCM-Canon-typical Violence

So I recently found deleted / extended scenes {Part 1 / Part 2 of 2006, 2003} which gave me more inspiration to write again! Analysis time 😈

_____

I first want to talk about the most forgotten member of the Hewitt family: Jedidiah. Poor sweet little Jedidiah, probably the most underrated and least-considered member of the Hewitt ‘clan’. From the clips shown in the video and the movie itself, we can infer that Jedidiah is left alone quite often. He’s also very aware of what goes on both in and outside the walls. Either the family doesn’t try to hide it from him or they’re doing a shit job at it. Even then, it’s kinda hard to hide things from independent children anyway. Jedidiah’s a very empathetic and artistic child who understands the Hewitt family values. I.E; the scene where he helps Erin and Morgan escape. Especially when he goes:

“Don’t hurt her! Please, Grandma!” - 2003, 1:06:48 

He looks so defeated after..poor baby. 

At around 1:12:40 when he’s urgently trying to get Erin and Morgan out of the basement via the tornado shelter exit {I think that’s what the structure is?}

“Go - Go now! Run! Faster, hurry! - Come on, don’t let him get you!”

“Go! I’ll be fine!” - 2003, 1:12:45 - 1:14:05 

And when he tries to bite Thomas’ hand to hold him back?? Poor baby. I’d also like to acknowledge how Thomas didn’t get physical with him , simply just shoved him off his hand and onto the sandbag. In the deleted scenes for 2003, he seems much happier when he gets to show Pepper his drawings; It seems he really needs attention that he isn’t getting at home. Maybe this is similar to how Thomas was raised, though I'm not sure. This is even more apparent when he says “You sure you’re not just saying that?” after Pepper compliments his drawing. He very clearly needs a form of guidance and support; Not only for his development but for his confidence. As I discussed in a previous post, Thomas also really enjoys praise, which he gets mainly from Hoyt. Speaking of Hoyt, there’s two possibilities {that I’ve come up with} for how Jedidiah came to be. 1.) Jedidiah is the product of rape, most likely the child of Hoyt and a victim. 2.) They ‘adopted’ him from a victim or some similar situation. Not much evidence as to his origins, but we can theorize. 

____

Moving on to Hoyt; the ‘head’ of the family. In the extended scenes for The Beginning 2006, we get to see an even more aggressive and short-fused side of Hoyt. He yells more often, he’s more violent, and he’s definitely more ‘hands-on’....yay for us. At around 3:20 in this video, as he’s going to ‘attend’ to Bailey’s injuries, he discreetly gropes her, specifically groping her breast whilst repeating ‘I ain’t gonna hurt you.” Yeah, okay, pal.  And then he LICKS THE GLASS HE JUST PULLED OUT OF HER?? He also really doesn’t like the victims; Like. At all. He’s definitely lustful over Bailey, but he doesn’t like how ‘smart’ she gets at times. I.E; “Is having a dead biker chick ride shotgun proper police procedure, sir?” Now, in this video we get to see the more hostile version of Hoyt. Imagine his regular persona x2. At around 0:45 he pulls Dean’s head up by his hair and starts yelling is his face;

“You fucking idiot! I just told you we had to eat! Ain’t you listening to me?” 

This tells us two things: One, Hoyt really doesn’t like when his authority is challenged via questions, lack of interest, or defiance. Two, he really doesn’t like talking about his time in the war. It’s a traumatic near-death experience which is definitely a soft spot for him. I doubt having to dwell on it, much less repeat it over and over again to someone he already hates is easy. Following that tangent, he quickly switches to his condescending ‘I’m just trying to help’ bullshit. Specifically at 1:09;

“Now what happens if you kids drive all the way up to Austin just to find out that you don’t even qualify to be in the Army? I’m concerned about your physical fitness here.”

I’ve also noticed that Hoyt gets real up-close n’ personal when he’s being condescending. Connect this with the moment he ties up and chokes Bailey; We can see Hoyt really likes showing not only his mental dominance, but his physical as well. Now, Hoyt is 6 feet, that’s tall. Compared to Thomas? That’s 5 inches shorter, and at maybe half or ⅗ of the weight. {I headcanon Thomas at around 330/320.} Hoyt sure as hell feels intimidated by Thomas physically. Mentally? Nah, probably not. He knows he could manipulate Thomas one way or another. 

Now; I’d like to focus on how Hoyt treats the family. He rarely if ever gets fussy with them to the extent of the victims. In the 2006 deleted scenes, at around 5:54 - 6:20, Hoyt never yells at Luda Mae and corrects himself when she scolds him. As she raises her voice, he gets fed up but never yells, only says;

“God damnit, Momma, let me handle this.”

He’s stressed, she’s most definitely stressed, and he feels the need to control everything to manage it. His speech at 2:01 of the 2006 extended scenes part 1 is very loving coming from him. He’s trying to reassure his family that everything will be fine whilst also shit-talking the ‘enemy;’ Further isolating them from civilization which they’ve only known to be a negative. He also calmly tries coaxing / ordering Thomas in for supper as opposed to yelling at him. He definitely switches between Hoyt and Charlie around his family; Even though he keeps Hoyt as the ‘default’ to remain in power {which is his source of comfort}, he lets Charlie slip through when it’s needed. 

____

Now for everyone’s favorite big boy; Thomas <3. The extended scene in part 2 {0:00 - 0:30} when Bailey see’s him and just starts screaming {rightfully so, she’s terrified}. Thomas is just standing there, fidgeting with his hands like 🤨/😐 - I know bro was reliving some school / work trauma. Seeing him fidget and doing what’s called ‘T-rex arms’ makes me think he’s neurodivergent. Obviously that’s not the only thing, I’ve been thinking he’s autistic specifically for a while now {Me pushing my autism onto a character} but it fits, no? {Maybe I'll do a post talking about his neurodivergence, idk} And he looks so overwhelmed during the dinner / Hoyt’s speech scene {In the extended scenes part 1.} OH! And ESPECIALLY when Hoyt brings him down to the basement at 37:40 in The Beginning 2006. He looks so overwhelmed and possibly terrified? When you brighten the scene, his expression is much easier to see {I’ll put a picture / gif below}. I think it’s safe to assume Thomas was a bit reluctant to continue as Hoyt had to coax him;

“Come on, Tommy, ain’t no different than the slaughterhouse. Meat’s meat; Bone’s bone. Get it done.”

I think Thomas really only got comfortable with the new lifestyle after he used it as an artistic outlet. Especially when he got to ‘experiment’ on Eric. I’ve seen multiple people use this scene as a means to say Thomas is gay. And listen, I don’t necessarily disagree, I don’t think he’s completely straight either {Reminder, any character that’s sexuality isn’t confirmed means that labeling them as ‘straight’ is a headcanon too!} I just think there’s more to work with here. I myself have struggles with my sexuality, specifically with how I view women. I’m not trying to push this onto Tommy, I just see potential similarities. I think Thomas was definitely envious of Eric, therefore, taking his face and ‘becoming’ something similar to him was a way to hide himself and present in a more ‘attractive way.’ I think he’s attracted to men, but his attraction is either masked or based on the idea of being like them. Eric has a life with such intense purpose. An army veteran {returning as well} with a partner, good family dynamic, and a friend group? ONTOP of being attractive and fit? Oh, hun, you know Thomas was yearning right there. He just wants to be good enough. I mean, really really, good enough. I don’t know why, but my brain automatically went to ‘he wants to become and consume Eric.’ As in, he’s attracted to the idea of being {like} Eric; As well as being attracted to Eric. I don’t know how to communicate this properly so I hope you get what I’m putting down.

___

Again, apologies for my long incoherent rants; I have so many ideas that I want to share

Much love, 🫀

[skyrim-forever]

So doing the baby meme thing got me thinking. What if Ondolemar found out Theodora was pregnant with his child while they were still seeing each other in Markarth? Just woke up one morning threw up beside his bed, she goes to Whiterun to get checked and BAM lil baby Arthano making an appearance in her tummy early! Because you know he was just so excited about popping his head out. Totally ready to be the next Arena champion. What kind of drama would ensue? Would Theodora even tell Ondolemar about it, given their current roles? How would Ondolemar feel sitting in his office or pacing Understone Keep knowing that Theodora was out there carrying his child? I NEED THE GOSSIP!!

Hi friend <3 Thank you so much for this ask this is a really interesting question. Unfortunately I can't see a scenario in which they would keep the baby because there are two ways it could happen.

Earlier on before they admit their feelings, if Theodora found out she would have a ~~fantasy abortion~~ and not tell him. They aren't in a relationship, owe each other nothing so it would be an "oops!" and then she'd be super careful. As their feelings came out she would tell him and he'd be very practical about it. That was the reasonable solution to falling pregnant in this type of arrangement. No hard feelings on his end.

It would happen after they had their love confession in Windhelm (chapter 1 is out here hehe shameless plug) in which case it would be the same outcome. This time done for the fact their isn't really any other option, she's got to fight Alduin, he has his duties. As long as she has to be in Skyrim she wouldn't be able to hide it, and then once its here, what do they do?

I was inspired to write this second scenario as that will explain it better. Under cut because sad :( and long this is 1100 OOPS

Ondolemar made it a point to work now, try to get something done while he still could. His love had scarcely eaten last night and was sprung from the bed early this morning with some foul sickness, retching into what she could find. The empty barrel had been something he meant to get rid of anyways. Theodora left to go see the Alchemist in town in hopes she could provide her answer as to what was afflicting her. She suspected some sort of stomach flu and if that was the case, he would likely come down with it too. Best work now until she returns with more information. 

Once she is gone for more than an hour he begins to worry. Running through his mind are fears it could be something more serious, something contracted on the road, an internal injury as she insisted on healing herself whenever possible; the fact they both drank heavily was not helping. The woman drank to be drunk where as he consumed casually throughout the day, it felt a bit better even if in reality it was comparable. As it’s nearing hour two, she comes back to him. Abandoning his work, he walks over to her, speaking just after the dwarven doors close. 

“You were gone for longer than I anticipated, I trust she found something? Are you going to be alright?” Her hands extend and he welcomes them gladly, trying to pull her in closer but she stays standing on her own. 

“I also wasn’t expecting to be gone that long either, but the alchemist has a strong suspicion.”

“That is good, what does she think? I hope it is not Bone Break Fever, absolutely a nasty disease that is. Do you feel weak?” She smiles meekly.

“A bit but that’s not it.” Noticeably her eyes fall to the floor. “I won’t know for certain until I speak with the healer, Danica Pure-Spring at the Temple in Whiterun but…” All the way to Whiterun what could possibly require such a trip? Any ideas as to what could be that serious are interrupted with the reveal. “I may be pregnant.” Oh. “And if I am then I will also take care of that at the Temple as well.” 

Ondolemar did not mean to be silent for so long, regretting that he retreated inward to grapple with this information rather than immediately comfort her. Regretting even more now that she apologizes.

“I’m sorry, normally I’m very good about-” He remedies the silence by bringing her to his chest, no resistance from her as she falls against him. Hand rubbing her back and the other smoothing her hair, he speaks. 

“No no, you have nothing to be sorry for, famously it cannot be done alone.” A weak attempt at humour but she does laugh, before the sobbing begins; anguished like he’s never heard her before. Hoping to never hear it again. Knowing there's nothing he can say at this moment, the intensity can not be healed with words, demanding to be felt, that is what he does. Let her cry against him until she can muster the words, chastising herself in anger now.

“Fuck, why am I crying? I’ve never considered having children before so why does it matter? Why do I feel so…” The question ends abruptly with another wail. 

He had thought of having a family someday, long ago  when he was much younger. The plan had been to throw himself into work, advance the family’s standing, then and only then would he let his mother work with the matchmaker and get on with the decades long progress to get married as an Altmer. But there was always more work to do, longer hours, more travel. Before he knew it the decades slipped by, casual relationships here and there but never entering into the formal process of courtship. Mostly with other agents, they were who he was around the most and thus were deeply familiar with the strict schedules under the Dominion. Seeing his sister wed had made him content, she found a nice, respectable man from a scholarly family in Skywatch. There were times he tried to rationalize with himself it was for the best. Whether or not he enjoyed it aside, he was a soldier first and foremost, the nature of a soldier is to be sent far from home. No point in having a family if he would not be able to see them, nor would he ask her to keep it as she was making the logical choice. There is her fated battle on the horizon, the matter of his position, as well as the purges conducted where there was higher density of mixed man-mer ancestry. What would he ask her, doom yourself to a life of hiding and single motherhood as he cannot follow because he loves her? Because sometimes he did imagine leaving his post, finding some way to flee from the Thalmor’s gasp and shed that which he cannot entirely believe. Tempted to do it even as he wished they lived in a better world and is curious if she has had similar thoughts. 

His thumbs gently wipe away her tears, as best he can, while cradling her face. 

“It is a serious situation, Theodora. You’re having a normal reaction regardless, let alone under our circumstances.” She nods and he places a kiss on her forehead, before gauging the situation.

“Do you want to keep it?”

“It’s not a matter of if either of us wants to, we can’t. Even if I could hide it the whole time, fight Alduin and manage to survive despite being who knows how pregnant,” A pained sigh as she is blunt with him on something which he knows to be true. “And unless it comes out looking identical to me, I’ll only be able to lie so much. Questions would be asked, Ondolemar. Nevermind if I tried to bring them around you in any capacity, how soon would it take someone to put things together, how fast would the hammer slam down on you?” Gods, she is right but that doesn’t stop the sting.

“I know, I know.” Leaning down for another kiss on her forehead, hands instead wrapping around her torso in a loose grip as she rests her head tilting upwards, clear view of the redness sin her eyes and the change in her skin tone. Red and puffing from the mental ache.

“If I were to have children though I’d want you to be their father.”

“They could have no one better as a mother than you.”

“I love you, Ondolemar.”

“And I love you, Theodora.”

[geddyqueer]

i would love some tunnel fic AND (/or) ⛏️💕⛏️

ok i'm holding off on posting more about tunnel fic until i actually write more words. but because you asked so nicely, you're getting some background of geology fic AND a snippet.

this fic came about because annie sent me some bts shot of lou where he's wearing a fishing vest and i was like this is geology professor core. and then i simply couldn't stop thinking about it. back in my wayward youth i was a geology major and i've always thought that a field study would make for a great character study template, so the fic is laid out like a report:

the OTHER major player in this fic is that concept a few people were kicking around several months ago when that interview dropped about buck and tommy learning more about each other as their relationship developed (LOL LMAO!) that maybe tommy had a past partner who had died. and annie and i were sitting there in the sandbox, and we were like: what if his partner who died was older than him. what if his partner who died had been in a position of authority over him. what if his partner who died had been not only his professor and academic mentor, but also his gay mentor. and now, what if buck, a young spritely 20-something, recently self-actualized, with the hots for his older professor, was pushing up against all of that history of tommy's. all set against the background of my second-favorite thing to think about: rocks!

anyway, here's a snippet:

The room is dark, but the door's unlocked. Buck takes a chance and pushes it open. It doesn't look like there's anyone else in there, but there is a weird lump in the front corner behind the desk, and he can't quite make out what it is until he flips the light switch on and the lump startles and jumps and–it's a guy. 

Not just a guy, but the guy.

Even with the memory of the jacket he was sleeping on imprinted deep into his face, Buck can tell he’s good looking. He has eyes, after all. And speaking of eyes, this guy—and it has to be the same one whose papers Buck has been reading all week—well, his eyes are piercingly dark blue. He blinks rapidly, sits up, and stares Buck down with those eyes.

"Uh, hi," Buck says, as the guy shoves his jacket off the desk and slaps his own face a couple of times and gets to his feet. "Are you Dr. Kinard?"

"Shit," the guy says, his voice cracking a little with sleep. He clears his throat. "Was I supposed to have a TA this semester? Sorry–"

"Oh, no, no, I'm, uh. I'm just a student," Buck says with a chuckle. He doesn't mean to, but he bobs his head like he's shy. He's not shy! He's just clearly in the right place at the wrong time. Maybe he should let the guy snooze, come back in half an hour.

The guy–Dr. Kinard–frowns, and wow, the picture of him on the UC-Pasadena Geology Department website does not do him justice. He's really earned that spicy pepper, Buck thinks, and then mentally kicks himself for it. "Huh," Dr. Kinard says, then: "Christ. Did I sleep through class?"

"No! No, you're good, I'm just–I'm super early, first day on campus, all my classes were remote last year, and because I'm, you know, 'non-traditional', not fresh out of high school, I didn't go through the, uh, standard orientation." 

Real smooth, he thinks. He's rambling. He needs to stop rambling. At least the hot professor standing in front of him is starting to grin instead of rolling his eyes. 

"Anyway, I'm a Bio major but I picked this class because, well–"

"Easy credit?" 

Buck stares in shock, but Dr. Kinard isn't even looking at him; instead he's shuffling back toward his desk, hand reaching for the stack of papers that he was just using as a pillow. 

"What? No way," Buck says, and it comes out a little more forceful than he intends. "No, I read your dissertation. It was really interesting. The, uh, the section about the volcanism in the Quaternary era? Am I saying that right? At first I was just like, woah, this is cool, I didn't know about any of this but then I was looking at the timelines and realizing that the earliest humans were literally walking around getting all, you know, homo-erectus-y while that volcano was spewing! And now people walk around Yellowstone and we just have no idea!"

Dr. Kinard's hand hasn't moved since Buck started talking. He's just… still, leaning over his desk. "You. Hold on. You read my dissertation?"

"Yeah," Buck says. "It was good!"

[idontmindifuforgetme]

I genuinely love not having a crush like I’m not over here feeling physically sick over some mid guy being dry to me I’m literally chilling