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munson-blurbs · 12 hours ago

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Eddie Munson x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: You never meant for Eddie to know that you had a crush on him. What happened when he found out, courtesy of Mike Wheeler's big mouth?

WC: 2.6k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), angst to fluff to smut and then back to fluff?? I don't even know, idiots in love, p in v, semi-public sex (we get it on in the van, baby)

Part of @cherrycolored-punk's Softember event!

Divider credit to @saradika

Friday, May 16, 1986: the day you determined that Mike Wheeler was the worst.

You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, it couldn’t be easy growing up in Nancy’s perfect shadow. Just the time you spent working with her on the school newspaper was exhausting.

That was where you were currently sprinting from, weaving through the empty hallways towards the drama room. Leave it to Nancy to schedule an emergency newspaper meeting on a Friday afternoon.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” You kept your head down as you breezed into the Hellfire meeting. Even without looking, you could feel the guys glaring at you. The only thing less forgivable than missing a campaign was interrupting one.

Gareth let out a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nice of you to join us, Lady Atwood.” He shifted forward in his seat. “You’re in luck today—our fearless Dungeon Master has yet to grace us with his presence.”

You wrinkled your nose, only then noticing that Eddie’s throne remained empty. “Where is he?”

From his spot at the table, Mike Wheeler scoffed. “Surprised you don’t know, considering you’re basically in love with him.”

You were about to refute his statement, or at least give him a well-deserved middle finger, when you heard a clattering behind you.

Like metal hitting the floor tiles.

No. No, no no no…

“S-Sorry.” Eddie stammered. He quickly scooped up the tin lunch box that doubled as a place to stash his weed. “I had a last-minute deal. Apparently there’s a party at McKinney’s house tonight and he needed some, uh, provisions. So, uh, yeah.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting around the room and looking at everyone except for you. “We can get started.”

There might as well have been a spotlight beaming down, accentuating the embarrassment written all over your face. Everyone in Hellfire knew about your crush on Eddie, but they had the decency to keep it a secret.

Everyone except for Mike Wheeler, apparently. God, you wanted to squish that little shit like a bug beneath your shoe.

It certainly didn’t help that Eddie kept glancing at you, even when he addressed the group. Like he was waiting for you to say something about Mike’s comment. Waiting for you to refute it, to roll your eyes and whip out a snappy comeback. Maybe he was even hoping you would.

He was probably internally cringing just thinking about you having romantic feelings for him.

“Lady Atwood?”

Your gaze instinctively snapped over to Eddie when he said your name. He was looking at you, brown eyes wide with anticipation of your response.

Warmth crept up your neck. He had heard what Mike said about you being in love with him–he had to have. He’d just had the good grace to brush over it because…

Because he didn’t feel the same way and didn’t want to cause you any further humiliation.

“Y-Yeah?” You choked on the word, trying to put the incident behind you. But you couldn’t, because the pain of unrequited feelings kept yanking on your heart, drawing tears that you desperately wished would evaporate.

“Gareth the Great has proposed battling the demogorgon.” There was a hint of a smirk on Eddie’s lips. It was your first clue that the move would prove entertaining, perhaps at your character’s demise. “We’re waiting for your input.”

Nodding, you chewed the inside of your cheek and studied the board. Okay, it looked like winning the battle was feasible, though a bit risky. The rest of the club watched as you contemplated; Gareth especially was practically vibrating with anticipation.

Then the ceiling started leaking. Soft drops with no particular rhythm, landing on your cheeks. Just your luck–first Mike’s big mouth spilled your secret, then whatever nastiness was living in Hawkins High School’s pipes was now seeping into your skin.

“Holy shit, is she crying?”

Dustin Henderson’s voice broke into your thoughts. His tone, for possibly the first time since you’d met him, held only concern with a note of snark.

Who was crying? You were the only girl in the club now that Ronnie had graduated, save for the times Erica Sinclair served as a substitute. Which meant…

“Way to go, asshole.” Lucas thwacked Mike across the chest.

“I didn’t know he was there!”

The purple fabric of your shirt darkened beneath your arms as another disconcerting flash of heat hit you. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Maybe you’d get lucky and the floor would open beneath you and swallow you up.

“I need to get some air.” Whether you spoke the words aloud or said them silently to yourself, you weren’t sure.

Your feet seemed to carry you out of the room and through the school’s front doors. Tears blurred your vision, and you swiped them away before any other lingering students could see.

The air was warm, teasing of the approaching summer. God, summer—you always spent it with Eddie, lounging by the public pool or sitting down at Lovers Lake. You’d read a book while he pored over his Hellfire notebook, scribbling notes for future campaign ideas.

Would he still want to do that, to spend those long days with you, now that he knew about your pathetic crush?

It wasn’t until you reached the parking lot that you remembered: Eddie drove you to school that morning. If you started walking now, you’d definitely get home before dark. Or maybe you could call your parents from the payphone if you managed to scrounge up the change—

The sound of your name stopped you in your tracks. You should’ve kept walking the moment you saw Eddie, his frizzy curls bouncing as he jogged over to you.

“Hey.” His hand brushed yours, though you pulled away before he could grab ahold of it. “Where are you going?”

“Home.”

He sighed. “Okay, let me rephrase that: Why did you leave? Because of what Wheeler said?” Eddie let out a small, disbelieving laugh when you nodded. “He’s such a little shit. Always messing with me. I’m gonna kick his sorry ass one of these days.”

Your eyebrows shot up. Messing with Eddie? “What are you talking about?”

“That joke about you being in love with me. He obviously saw me in the doorway and said it to embarrass me.” A blush crept onto Eddie’s cheeks. “Y’know, ‘cause…”

But you didn’t know. You had no idea what he meant. And as much as Mike was a menace, he seemed sincere when he said he didn’t realize that Eddie was there.

“Because why?”

“Because,” Eddie’s gaze shifted to his van’s tires before he finally looked at you again. “Because he knows I have this dumb crush on you, and he thinks it’s hilarious to fuck with me about it.”

Words evaded you. This had to be some sort of elaborate set-up. Eddie had a crush on you? When girls like Chrissy Cunningham and Heather Holloway lived in the very same town?

Impossible.

Not privy to the argument playing out inside your head—thank God—Eddie babbled on. “I know it’s weird. That’s why I haven’t told you—well, until right now. And I’m starting to regret it, because you’re looking at me like I have three heads. So maybe I’ll just shut up now.”

“No.” Summoning all of your courage, you took his hand in yours and managed a smile. “Eddie, Mike was teasing me because I like you. More than a friend should like a friend.”

Eddie’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. “What if I told you…I don’t want to just be friends?”

You let your eyes meet his. “I-I don’t want to just be friends, either.”

He took a pause before he asked his next question. Your heartbeat thrummed in your ears as you waited for him to speak.

“And what if I did this?” One palm, callused from years of guitar playing, cupped your cheek. Eddie moved closer, his nose bumping against yours in a clumsy attempt to close the gap between you. “Shit, that–that was supposed to be suave.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Munson.” The words left your mouth before you could think them through. Your fingers tangled into his hair, pulling him back towards you and finishing what he had started.

His lips, soft and tasting vaguely of the cigarettes he’d smoked after school, crashed into yours. One hand snaked around your waist and pressed you against him until you felt his metal belt buckle through your shirt.

You moaned softly, letting his tongue into your mouth without hesitation. More, more, more…you needed more. You needed all of him.

It was Eddie who broke the kiss, much to your chagrin. But what he said next made up for the loss.

“Sorry…I’m trying to be a gentleman. But it’s, uh, getting a little hard.” He chuckled, stealing another quick kiss. “Pun very much intended.”

A quick glance proved that Eddie wasn’t lying: His erection tantalizingly strained against his fly. What you wouldn’t give to feel him inside you…

“Y’know, take you on a date, tell you how pretty you look,” Eddie continued, shifting his stance in a pitiful attempt to quell his desire. “I don’t wanna go at it in the school parking lot like some feral rabbits.” He waved his hand haphazardly.

You bit your lip, weighing your options. A date would be nice; perhaps a night at The Hawk, his arm around you as a movie played on a giant screen. Or maybe he’d take you to dinner—nothing as expensive as Enzo’s, but somewhere more romantic than your usual Benny’s hangout.

A date with Eddie was something you’d only ever dreamed of. But right now, you needed to live out a different fantasy before you combusted from an overload of lust.

“Remember the first campaign you created this year?” Your soft voice held a sultry air despite your nerves. “It was your most sadistic one yet. We were all ready to forfeit, but you took pity on us and gave us a hint.”

Taking a deep breath, you plunged your hand into his front pocket. “Do you remember what you said?”

Eddie shook his head. “I can’t remember my own goddamn name right now, Sweetheart.”

You laughed, your finger hooking around his keyring. “You said that sometimes, it’s better to work backwards.”

With a triumphant grin, you plucked the keys from his pocket.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” His own smile betrayed his exasperated exterior as he grabbed your hand. His van seemed a million miles away, though it was parked in one of the closest spots in the lot.

Eddie yanked open the back door, waiting just long enough for you to get settled before he scrambled in behind you. The moment the door closed, he pulled you on top of him.

You could feel him, feel his hardness, against your core. You rolled your hips instinctively, savoring the friction.

Hands clamped down on your denim-covered thighs. “You gotta…you can’t…” Eddie choked, struggling for words. “We’re already about to do it in my van. I don’t wanna look even more pathetic by coming in my pants.”

Warmth blossomed in your body. You could imagine him sputtering out a stream of swear words as he came, flooding his own boxers with his release.

Maybe another day.

Buttons were undone, flies were unzipped, clothes were discarded into a pile in the corner of the van. It was only you and Eddie, not a single scrap of fabric between you.

Sweat glistened on his chest, matting down the sparse hairs that curled around his nipples. You leaned in, kissing just above the demon head tattoo etched on his pec.

“Baby,” he crooned. The new pet name wasn’t lost on you. Your heart beat faster, a butterfly frantically flapping its wings. “Baby, I need you.”

He did need you, unless he was going to take care of his achingly hard cock by himself. The pink tip leaked with pre-cum, and if you had more room, you would have licked it clean off.

You settled for swiping it away with your thumb, his abdomen tightening at the sudden contact. Eddie nearly passed out on the spot when you sucked on your finger, savoring the salty taste.

“Baby,” he groaned again. “I w-wanted to get you off first, ‘cause I know I’m not gonna last like this.”

“S’okay.” You lined him up with your entrance, ignoring the way your hands shook as you slowly sank down onto him. His hips bucked up almost of their own accord. “F-Fuck, Eddie…”

Eddie looked up at you, brown irises wide. He paused for an extra moment; maybe he really had forgotten his own name. “I know, I know,” he said finally. “God, I fucking know, baby.”

His thumb found your clit the second he composed himself, rubbing delicate circles until your toes curled. His other hand held you with just enough force to keep you stable while still being able to ride him.

“You’re so beautiful.” He let out a breathless laugh. “If I wake up and this was all a dream, I’m gonna be pissed.”

You shared the same thought. What if the Eddie laying before you, curls splayed against the worn carpet of his van, groaning your name–your name–was all a mirage? Another fantasy conjured up by your lovesick brain?

“I’ve never had a dream this good before.”

“Me either,” he admitted, “but the only ones that’ve come close involve you.”

You tightened around him, your hands flush against his chest. The fact that you occupied his thoughts, unconscious or otherwise, sent a wave of arousal rolling through you. You wanted to hear every last detail of those dreams, to know exactly what turned him on.

Maybe later. Right now, your focus stayed on the way he touched you. So intentional, so precise. And Eddie worked you through your orgasm, keeping his same rhythm as you came around him.

“There you go, pretty girl. That’s it,” he murmured. “‘M close. Where do you–where can I–”

“Inside.” You’d never been more grateful to be on the pill.

Eddie let himself go, unleashing a torrent of desire. He thrust into you, chasing his own release now that he knew you’d gotten yours.

It was only when he slowed his pace, milking the last drops of cum from his cock, that reality began to settle in.

You just had sex with your best friend in the back of his van, a few hundred feet away from where your friends were gathered around a DnD board–

“Oh my God, Eddie!” Your eyes snapped open in realization. “Hellfire–they’re still there.”

Eddie pulled you closer and kissed your forehead. You relaxed into his chest. “They’re smart guys when they’re not being idiots.” The words vibrated against your skin. “I’m sure they figured out that we weren’t coming back.”

He sighed, wrapping one arm around you. “Can I take you on that date now, baby? Y’know, once we get dressed.” He smirked. “We can go to Scoops Ahoy and split a sundae. And then, if you want, I’ll take you back to my place and undress you again?”

You scrambled for your clothes almost as quickly as you’d shed them, Eddie following suit. And as much as you wanted to have sex with him again, to really take your time and cherish each second, you were equally excited to cuddle up in a booth and share some ice cream.

Friday, May 16, 1986: the day Mike Wheeler’s lack of filter didn’t completely backfire. Because it was also the day that you and Eddie Munson became boyfriend and girlfriend.

#eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

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lo-bo-tomia · 2 hours ago

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you open up your phone and look for a picture to show them. You look and look but you can't seem to find any pictures of your friend's face. You tell them your plan and they say they've never taken a picture because it would defeat the whole purpose of hiding in plain sight when they're hiding. You remind them that they could just shapeshift into another face, and they laugh. I sure could...

What an idiot. They're desperate. They need their original form for that date. Certainly they can't go as a hawk. You're good at drawing faces, you say that.

You've been doing that your whole life, to capture people's essence. You enjoy drawing random faces you've seen by memory and sometimes the cute and funny expressions your friends make. They're not really contempt but they seem to absolutely need to go back to their original form.

So you start drawing. It doesn't take long. It looks good, or at least that's what you thought. That moron looks at the picture, and immediately shapeshifts into their original form. But something's deeply wrong. They look like... a shell of themself. It's like they couldn't remember their face even after seeing the drawing and they could only shapeshift into the drawing itself. It looks inhumane. They seem to notice right away, and break down crying. You try to comfort them. There must be a way to make them remember a vivid image of their face. You think about that old guy at the edge of the realm that knows how to communicate telepathically, even with images. And you think they could be able to show your friend their face, recover their memory or at least help them recover it. It's not a bad idea, but what about the date? The best solution would be to just tell the truth. It's a complex situation. Your friend is reluctant, and it takes you a solid half hour to convince them. But they refuse to talk. Your idea means you have to break the news. You go out and your friend shapeshifts into a hamster. It's cute, discreet, and they've got wet eyes. They want to look as pitiful as possible. The date's been waiting. You're late. Your friend points at them and you sit down next to them and say hi. They're confused. "I'm sorry, I'm waiting for someone" squeak. You didn't think a hamster could convey emotions so well with a simple squeak. But you swear that sound your friend just blurted out sounded so sad. "I know" You say "You've been waiting for this" and you point at your friend, the hamster. This didn't clarify anything. "I'm sorry, what?"

Your friend starts talking, in a very high pitched voice. "Hi Erin, it's me Alex. I know you were expecting a human but here we are"

"I swear I'm not a hamster, just an idiot. I'm actually a shapeshifter and forgot how to turn back to my original self. This friend over here is trying to help me with that. Could we maybe reschedule the hangout maybe when I look more... bipedal?" - "We were planning on blasting a memory of their original body in their mind, so that they can remember."

"Oh you mean to go to the mindreader at the edge of the realm to do this?"

"Well yea that was the plan"

"No need, that's my dad, I can do pretty much the same thing and I've seen Alex before. Just, I can't communicate telepathically with animals: I'm a little limited like that. It's not even that I literally can't it's more of a mental limit that I can't seem to shatter"

"No problem! I've got the solution" Squeaks Alex the Hamster. They immediately shapeshift into your drawing. It looks so wrong, even Erin is startled. "Yea I tried to make them remember by drawing them, but they just look like a shell of themself"

"That's terrifying, but I can work with that" Erin lays their hands out towards Alex. Their face lights up and immediately they shapeshift into their original form. "That's much better, thanks Erin, thank you friend"

"I guess there's no need to reschedule now, see you around Alex" You ditch them and go home. That seems to be a good combo. You hope the date goes well.

Your friend, a shapeshifter (a secret you've kept since childhood) hasn't answered your texts in days, so you head to their home. Upon arriving, you find that they're in the middle of an existential crisis; they can't remember how to turn back into their original, human form.

#writing prompts #writing inspiration #I don't really like what I did #but I liked the idea #and I had a little fun writing it

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whoreforsexymen · 3 days ago

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Guess who just finished acrane and is writing this with actual tears on my face!!! I need some Vander fluff- i think i will emplode- it doesnt even have to be anything specific i just need comfort after that shit storm 😭

Yes my child. Mommy will make good on your request.

And don’t even get me started on S2. I can’t bring myself to watch it yet. I’m still not even over S1 and I KNOW for a fact it’s not even as sad as I’ve learned S2 is.

But shhhhh, Mommy’s got you. Here’s the fluff you asked for.

Piltover’s Got Nothin’ On You | Vander Fluff Flash 🍺🤎

(GIF cred: me <3)

Pairings: Vander x GN!Reader

Pronouns: No pronouns used.

Rating: Slight NSFW because Reader and Vander are presumably half naked in bed, so 18+!! MDNI !! You WILL be blocked

Word Count: 524

Summary: Vander is enjoying a nice cozy morning with you, and reminds you exactly how he feels.

Tags: A little spicy, just because it’s a little maturely themed if you whip out a magnifying glass, Fluff, Tooth Rotting Fluff, Domesticity W/ Vander, OoeyGooeyRomance

Notes: None, just enjoy. Take a breather. 🤍

“Would I lie to you?” The question hung in the air, light yet loaded with meaning. It was enough to send a familiar flutter through your stomach, a soft, nervous twinge that made your heart skip. The sensation was strangely uncomfortable, yet in the most endearing way—like a gentle reminder of how much he could still make you feel, even in the simplest of moments.

You lay atop the man you were speaking to, both of you bare-chested, the warmth of your skin pressing together in an effortlessly comforting way. The coolness of the morning air was a distant contrast to the heat between you, a calm presence that made the moment feel serene to say the least. His steady breathing beneath you gave the moment a gentle rhythm, and for a while, there was nothing but the simple unspoken connection between you both before you responded.

“Maybe. Depends.” You tease, your words playful but laced with a hint of mischief.

His response is immediate—his large hand slipping into yours with a quiet sense of contentment, the warmth of his grip grounding you. There’s a comfort in the way he holds you, as if, in this moment, the world outside doesn’t matter. His touch speaks volumes, the unspoken understanding between you both more powerful than anything words could convey.

“Someone clearly thinks highly of me,” he teases back, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Before you can answer, he leans down and places a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, his touch tender and full of quiet affection. The sweetness of the gesture catches you off guard, a simple act that somehow feels like the most genuine expression of his feelings—a quiet reminder of how deeply he cares.

You smile, a soft laugh slipping from your lips.

“All I was saying is that, as much as Piltover has its minor flaws—“ you begin, your voice light with amusement as you’re stopped short.

“Appalling flaws, really. Humongous, towering flaws,” he interrupts playfully, his tone teasing as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, still held firmly in his.

You can’t help but laugh at his wit.

“Yes, huge, appalling flaws. But despite all that, Topside is stunning at night. The lights here are beautiful, too, but nothing compares to the glow of Piltover.” You add, trying to make your point clear: a city’s beauty can stand on its own, no matter what darkness might lurk behind the scenes.

He regards you for a long while, his gaze lingering on your face with an amusement that never quite fades. The seconds stretch on, almost too long—what might seem like a few moments in the world’s rhythm becomes an eternity in his eyes. Each shift in your expression, each subtle change in your posture, draws him in, holding his attention as if time itself has slowed. And yet, even as eternity unfolds, it’s still not enough. To him, no amount of time could ever truly capture all he wants to see.

“That may be true,” he says, his voice steady, the smirk never quite leaving his face.

“But Piltover’s got nothin’ on you.”

#Vander fluff #Vander x reader fluff #Vander x reader #arcane fluff #arcane x reader #arcane x reader fluff #arcane x GN!reader #Vander x GN!reader #Vander x GN!Reader fluff #Vander arcane #vander x reader arcane

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ferrarifever · 15 hours ago

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hawaiian heat | c. leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: you and charles go out clubbing while on vacation in hawaii, but he isn’t a fan of the attention his girl is getting

warnings: jealous! & possessive!charles, extremely light choking, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected p in v

wc: 2.7k

masterlist🏎️𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🏁 ／ ⋆ ۪

author’s note: hi! this is my first fic so i'd really appreciate feedback! (also i'm scared this will flop lol). also requests are open or if anyone has prompt/headcanon ideas hmu because i’m always looking for (and need) inspo (and also mutuals because i’m new around here!) - stella♡

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

leading up to takeoff, you spent weeks making sure everything was perfectly prepared. you made sure to pack all your best swimsuits, your nicest outfits, and your finest jewelry. the opportunity to spend this much uninterrupted time with charles was rare, so you were determined to make the most of it.

filled with anticipation, the flight from monaco to maui felt like an eternity. you tried to downplay your excitement, but your plan completely failed once you arrived at the most picturesque villa you’ve seen in your life. it was the type you’d only seen online, and the reality you were staying there with the love of your life felt like a dream come true.

stepping out on the balcony of your room, you couldn’t believe this wasn’t a dream. so entranced by the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, you failed to hear charles joining you. you felt his arms, already warm from the maui sun wrap around your waist. he began pressing feather-light kisses into your neck,

“i can’t believe we’re finally here. i can’t wait to spend the week with you chéri” he whispered in between kisses

you momentarily turned your back to the water to face charles. resting a hand on his chest, you whispered back “i can already tell i’m not going to want to leave”

you lightly press against his chest, leading both of you back in your shared room. placing his hand over yours, charles fell back gently on the bed, pulling you on top of him. you align yourself with the monegasque, feeling him begin to press his hips into yours. you felt his hand grip your cheek, pulling your lips to his. feeling charles hands migrate to the bottom of your shirt, you knew the rush of heat that flooded your body could not be attributed to the hawaiian climate. fighting your desire, you attempt to pull away

“baby–” you mumble against his lips, trying to pull him out of his trance of desire.

“charles– c’mon baby i have to start getting ready” running your hands up his body, you push your hands against his shoulders to force yourself off of the driver. he did not hold back his displeasure, groaning and falling back into the mattress.

“the sooner we leave the quicker we can come back, love!” you yell back towards charles, while making your way toward the bathroom to get ready. dedicated to your goal of making the most of the trip, you picked your favorite dress out of your suitcase. might as well kick the trip off with a bang, right?

you pulled every trick in the book. you did your makeup to make your eyes pop. you styled your hair in the way you knew charles loved. the jewelry you put on was flashy, but not tacky. before slipping on your favorite dress, you put on charles’ favorite ferrari red lingerie set. the lace hugged your curves perfectly, giving you a perfect boost of confidence before going out. you slipped on a maroon satin mini dress, leaving little for the imagination. you knew you looked good, and anyone else you come across will know too.

after giving yourself a onceover, you stepped into your favorite pair of louboutins. you walked out of the bathroom, the clicking of your heels drawing charles attention away from his phone and up to you. he gasped quietly, sucking in air while biting his bottom lip.

“holy shit y/n– there’s no way we’re leaving this room” he choked out.

you giggled at your boyfriends awe before replying; “as amazing as that sounds, you know we would never hear the end of it if we’re late”

charles pulls himself off the bed, meeting you halfway. he gently pushes you up against the doorframe of the bathroom

“let them talk baby–they’ll get it once they see this dress” he says quickly before kissing you passionately

cutting him off before things get too heated, you push him away; “charles, seriously, lets not give them a reason to make fun of us on day one. we’ll regret it i promise”

charles groans dramatically, knowing you’re right but not wanting to admit to it. you grab your purse off your nightstand and give yourself one last look in the mirror before turning back to charles to ask; “ready?”

charles pauses for a moment, deciding whether or not to put up one last fight. he ultimately replies “ready,” before holding out his hand for you to grab.

you make it to the club with perfect timing, meeting up with the other drivers and their partners. charles politely greets the other drivers and with just a single glance at your outfit the other girls give you a knowing look.

as the drinks started flowing, you knew this was going to be a memorable night (if you can remember it in the morning). with enough liquor in your system, you joined the dancefloor with the other wives and girlfriends, while charles hung back in a booth.

you knew that when you learned over the bar to get another drink you were giving everyone a peak at the lacy set under your dress. with every sway of your hips, the skit of your dress rose higher and higher up your hips. you were having the time of your life, failing to realize that you were driving charles insane. you momentarily locked eyes across the room, and while you flashed a smile, charles lowered his eyebrows in dismay. as you turned back towards the dancefloor you felt charles’ arms wrap tightly around your waist

“i think you have had enough dancing for the night, hmm?” charles whispered into your eye

“baby c’mon…the night is just beginning!” you giggle back

“the fun will begin once we get out of here…it’s time to go” charles growls into your ear. your desire to fight back died as soon as you saw the passion in his eyes. a wave of heat flushed through your body, and you allowed the driver to grab your wrist and pull you out of the darkly lit club.

the uber ride back to the hotel was tense. as charles hand slipped higher and higher up your thigh, you had to use all of your will to not climb onto him in the backseat. as soon as the car shifted into park, charles was pulling you out of the seat and up to your room.

as soon as you heard the door shut behind you, charles pushed you back against it. alternating running his hand along the bottom of your dress and pinch the fabric, charles growled out

“you happy now? finally getting the attention you clearly desperately wanted in this dress?” his words sparked heat in your core and you failed to muster any reply, simply whimpering in response.

“mmhm? now that it’s just us, my bébé is shy?” he questioned. his hand finally migrated up your thigh to where you really needed him. he snapped the elastic of your thong against your core, continuing his teasing.

“charles…please…” you continued to whine. you knew you sounded pathetic, but your need continued to build in a way that led you to not think clearly.

as soon as the ‘please’ left your mouth, you felt charles remove his hand from up your dress and placed it carefully around your neck. he bent his knee between your thighs, holding you up against the door.

“you know bébé–if you asked that sweetly before we left i may be nicer right now. instead, you thought teasing me in front of the boys would end better for you. so right now i’m going to remind you that you’re mine and only mine.” he growled into your ear before migrating lower and lightly biting at your neck.

“i’m sorry” you apologized with a light smirk. making charles jealous was never your priority, but if it happened along the way you were going to enjoy the ride.

“prove it then” he snapped back. he increased pressure on your neck, slowly pushing you down until you dropped to your knees. you looked up at him, giving him the most seductive eyes you could muster. he bit down on his lip in return, not wanting to praise you just yet. he nodded down at you, giving you silent permission to continue. you slowly unbutton his jeans. you know continuing to tease him is a dangerous game, but you know secretly charles likes it when you take your time with him.

you tug at his jeans, pulling his boxers down with them. his hard length bounces, hitting his abs. you take the opportunity to lick a long lick from the base to head of his length before taking his sensitive tip in your mouth. charles groans, throwing his head back as you take him deeper and deeper down your throat.

as your eyes begin to water, charles stretches out his arms before pressing his palm against the door to balance himself. the warmth of your mouth felt like heaven and he was doing everything in his power to ground himself.

your hands migrate to the back of his thighs, pulling him into you to take him even deeper into your mouth. you continue flicking your tongue below his tip, drawing obscene noises out of the driver.

he is able to center himself enough to look down and make eye contact with you. he quickly realizes he made a mistake, using your hair to divide the two of you.

“i’m not finishing down your pretty mouth tonight, cherí,” charles groans. just as you start processing his words, charles is pulling you off the floor and towards the bed. before either of you hit the mattress, charles is unzipping your dress. as the satin dress falls to the floor, your lace-clad body is presented to the monegasque. after taking in the sight before him, charles lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding

“mon ange” he says, gasping for breath. once you’re face-to-face you give him a quick peck on the lips before whispering in his ear “use me baby, i’m yours.”

charles pushes you back first onto the bed. he pauses for a moment to take in the view in front of him. still clad in lace with your heels, lips swollen, eyeliner running, hair tousled…you were a dream come true. he can’t hold back for long before collapsing on top of you. you pick yourself lightly off the mattress, leaving just enough space for you to unclasp your bra. as soon as you pull the red lace off your body, charles is attacking your skin with his lips.

he runs his hands down your torso before looping his fingers into the waistband of your panties. he finally pulls them off after what felt like an eternity. his hands graze your thighs before making their way back to your core. he slowly runs a single finger where you needed him most.

“you're already so wet for me, bébé. no need to even prepare you, huh?” he says with a dry laugh. you didn't find it as funny, whining in return

“charles– please i need you so bad” you plead. he takes pity on you, sinking his middle finger into you. you moan slightly, you need for his touch your body had been begging for began to subside.

he continues pushing his middle finger in and out of you at what can only be considered a painstakingly slow pace. you continue your whining and muffled pleads, knowing it won’t do much at the moment

“who does this pussy belong to? hmm?” the speed of his words is a complete juxtaposition of his pace inside you.

“yours charles, yours!” you exclaim, “please do anything baby” you whine out. he was clearly not completely satisfied, but he took enough pity on you to move his thumb up towards your throbbing clit. the minute his thumb made contact with your throbbing bundle of nerves, you arched your back off the mattress. you attempted to moan out charles name, and although his title may not have been clear, your pleasure was.

as he began slowly rubbing circles on your clit, he added another finger inside you. you did not realize how deep the need inside of you was until this moment. you had no clue what to do with your body, alternating between gripping the sheets and running your hands through charles hair.

“now cherí, i’m going to be good to you today and let you get off on my fingers, you know why?” he questioned you, while quickening his trusting pace inside you.

you attempted an answer, but the fear of giving the wrong response and overwhelming pleasure led it to be incomprehensible. charles laughed slightly before filling you in,

“because i’m the only one who can make you feel this way bébé. none of the boys at that club would be able to make you feel this good with just his fingers” he announced. you nodded your head rapidly,

“only you baby–” you repeated like a mantra as you fell over the edge. your body spasmed and your stomach clenched and you screamed out. charles continued working you through your orgasm, slowing down his pace as you caught your breath. he slowly removed his fingers from where they were curled inside of you. he licked his middle finger quickly before holding them to your mouth. you began sucking on his fingers,

“now you can feel and taste how good i make you feel bébé” he says with confidence, knowing the power he holds over you.

he pulls his fingers out of your mouth with a pop. his wet hand moves down between your thighs, pushes them open just enough to make room for him. he continues leaning in closer to you before he whispers

“ready?” he asks carefully. you nod, using all your strength to mutter out a quick “yes.”

you feel his length slowly penetrate you, every inch pulling another gasp out of your lungs. he hands grip your waist as he immediately begins rocking in and out of you, filling you up with every rock of his hips. every thrust brought you closer and closer to your edge, and charles knew. he moves his hand from your waist back to your sensitive clit, causing you to let out a high-pitched moan at the additional stimulation. before you can process the added pleasure, you hear charles begin to speak,

“could any of the other guys in the club make you feel like this baby? hmm?” charles growls into you ear, frustration from earlier simmering back up

“only you charles! no one else, baby” you squeal out quickly. charles’ pressure on your clit gets faster as his thrusts get harder, pulling you closer and closer to your edge

“who’s are you bébé?” he growls out, keeping his explosive pace

“i’m yours baby! only yours! please” you scream out, gripping the bedsheets in an attempt to ground yourself

“go ahead cherí, cum for me” charles says in the calmest tone of the night. with a scream of his name, your walls flutter around him as you cum on his cock. so wrapped up in your own pleasure, it wasn’t until charles grabbed your hips tightly and slowed his pace you felt him filling you with his cum.

he stills over you, both of you panting and fighting to catch your breath. charles leans to kiss you quickly before slowly pulling out of you. he rolls next to you on the bed, both of you still fighting your air. charles makes his way to the bathroom, grabbing a towel to clean you off. as you feel the cloth running up the thigh, you remind charles

“you know it’s always been you, right? and always will be?” you remind charles

“mmhm i know cherí,” he replies calmly.

he leans over to press light kisses on your neck before continuing, “...but i never mind a reminder” ;)

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut #charles leclerc #formula 1 #f1 #f1 one shot #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x you #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #cl16 #stella writes!

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swoleas · 1 day ago

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Since Veilguard was released, there is this genre of Dragon Age fans popping up who are explaining Dragon Age lore, who have been talking a lot about Qunari lore. Disappointingly, they've just been taking Bioware's qunari lore at face value for every single game, no matter how much the Qunari lore for each game retcons the lore from game before it.

And I feel like, it needs to be understood that, Qunari were designed to be "Militant Islamic Borg" -- the intent behind them is to be this oriental technologically advanced people who are violent and expansionist savages and made specifically to contrast the rest of Thedas, meant to be White and European. They are routinely called barbarians and savages, real world slurs used against people from the SWANA region, by characters the players are meant to see as sympathetic and intelligent, like Solas. The lore starts and ends with this. And even with Gaider not working on the game, each bit of new Qunari lore introduced is built on 2 things: Racism and Vibes.

Trying to explain Qunari lore without even examining the deeply racist framework within which Qunari lore exists is inadvertently reinforcing the racism and the orientalism and xenophobia in the writing. You cannot separate them.

I have been seeing people calling Qunari society "inherently violent" or "teaching violence" and that this is why they are written as having had the Antaam branch away and go to the South and join the ancient Gods. And No. That is not correct in any sense. But if you rewrite the lore of the Qunari in every single game, of course that would be your takeaway. The real reason they are written this way is so you can have a faceless orcish brute enemy archetype that you can kill in Dragon Age: The Veilguard without any guilt. It's literally not deeper than that.

Why is it that Bioware is so resistant to having us go to Seheron or go to Par Vollen and walk amongst Qunari society and view them in a context where they are just living their lives? Is it possibly because it will draw attention to how alien and inhuman they are intended to be? Is it so they are not humanized in a way that makes every previous inclusion of Qunari seem jarring and uncomfortable to see?

In Origins, we meet Sten, and though he exists to expound on this group of people who exist in Thedas, the Qunari, and introduce us to this bit of world building which isn't directly relevant to the main story, but fleshes out the world beyond Ferelden. The writing was still racist (after all "militant Islamic Borg" refers to their Origins iteration), but you got so little information that you could infer that there may be some nuance there, especially given the way Sten is written in a way that humanizes the Qunari. Later lore shows him as being someone who cares deeply about the world around him and, as Arishok, about diplomacy. And all this not conflicting with his belief in the tenets of the Qun.

And in Dragon Age 2, the game pivots into making them one of the major causes of conflict in the story. This is the first introduction of Qunari as faceless brute enemy archetypes which you can kill without guilt, without explanation of why you can kill them without guilt--at least not immediately. You do not walk into DA2 knowing who Tal-Vashoth are and why they are attacking you--only that they're violent and they yell things in a foreign language at you.

The Arishok in Dragon Age 2 is stubborn, dogmatic, and violent when opposed or crossed. He shows up, sets up a military compound, and stays there for years. Your only representation here is a military leader and his subordinates, contrasted with equally violent mercenaries who the game promises are of a completely different ideology. All shirtless muscular men, who speak in a growling menacing dialect.

Then Bioware turns around and goes. Just kidding! Those weren't the real Qunari; they're a violent offshoot! We promise they are nuanced, you just haven't met those ones yet. They give us Tallis in Mark of the Assassin, but she's an elf, and one who had to pick between slavery and the Qun, and picks the lesser of two evils. Sure, she's sympathetic, but you get the impression that Hawke feels betrayed to find out that she's Qunari, and interrogates her on this--which, is partly, I guess, you, the player, clicking the dialogue options to learn more, but Tallis is on the defensive, trying to convince you Qunari are people, just like you and me.

Inquisition introduces another Ben-Hassrath, like Tallis, in the Iron Bull. And on the surface, his inclusion is quite a lot like Sten in Origins. They both showed up because there was an unknown threat in the South that they were ordered to investigate. Unlike Sten, though, you are given the option to convert him away from the Qun. Not only that, but the game drills into you how there is no free will under the Qun. But then contradicts itself with Bull telling you that under the Qun you DO have the choice to change your role under the Qun and that there is even a word for it, Aqun Athlok, which means transgender, but, in a society where gender is directly related to the role you perform in society, that implies less rigidity and more open-mindedness than every other character wants you to believe.

However, beyond dialogue with Krem and the Iron Bull about gender (and later Taash in the Veilguard), Bioware is not interested in exploring the implications of the existence and acceptance of Aqun Athlok in Qunari culture.

And in the end, if Bull becomes Tal-Vashoth, that's framed as the outcome that is overall most positive--the outcome where he can keep his romantic relationships (whether that's with the Inquisitor or with Dorian), his friendships with the Inquisition and the Chargers, and his individuality. It's reinforced in banter with his companions and dialogue with the Inquisitor. And it all sounds a little too close to how white savior types talk about Muslims who leave SWANA and leave Islam to come to the more enlightened and liberating West.

By the Veilguard, the Qunari lore is already so wishy washy that sure I guess now we have to believe that the Antaam (literally just the Qunari military) broke away from the other Qunari because the other Qunari weren't expansionist and violent enough. I guess that's what we are going with. And that's the reason why, as a gameplay mechanic, we see the return of the Qunari as a faceless brute enemy archetype. And this time, instead of them clearly speaking in normal pitch but in a foreign language (like in DA2), they communicate in inhumanly deep, animal-like grunts and growls. Even when they're not being hostile to you, and you pass them by in Treviso just hanging out? They are still hollering and growling in monstrous deep voices, without a trace of a thought out and well-enunciated language. And how racist do you have to be for you to be more racist than the DA2 Qunari?

I don't even want to get into whatever scraps you get through Taash and their personal quest because it's so irrelevant and detached from everything it feels like putting a bandaid over a stab wound. Nevermind Taash introducing us to a brand new and innovative genre of Qunari who can sniff things out like hunting dogs. Thanks for that one Bioware -- "but nooooo, Nairuz, they're part dragon it makes sense in the lore" -- the ancient Elves can also turn into wolves and dragons and even monsters, but you don't see them growling and sniffing and prowling like animals.

All this to say. Stop trying to make sense of Qunari lore in a way that validates and justify the decisions Bioware made, when they made those decisions out of Islamophobia and racism and orientalism. I am tired of seeing this lore be uncritically parroted by Dragon Age lore accounts.

#paptalk #da qunari #da the iron bull #da tallis #da sten #da taash #sten of the beresaad #dragon age #dragon age critical #veilguard critical #veilguard spoilers #datv spoilers #dragon age spoilers #bioware critical #long post

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redlenai · 3 days ago

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Remember my lovely babygirls, you can shut them down these ways:

Option A) Have a Ko-Fi account or a VGen account (Yes, as an artist and with open commissions)

Option B) Make a Google Form for commissions

When these motherfuckers show up or anyone in general, you can just slap the link of any of these three variants with just the quote "Sure thing, make your order on this link" I can guarantee you they will likely never reply, and those that do will still try to get you outside the system, tell them no, only through VGen/Ko-Fi/Google Form.

But if you still take direct through DMs commissions, Do not give them any kind of information, no one needs to know where you are from or your real name, they ask because that way they attempt to use translated versions of their scam email to pretend to be official one. If you don't give that info, then its more obvious to detect their scam email if you receive one after being dumb enough to give your email, then know: Paypal will use the language of your own country, address you by your name instead of "Dear costumer".

As well, KEEP YOUR PAYPAL/VIRTUAL WALLET EMAIL DAMN PRIVATE, NO ONE NEEDS TO KNOW THAT, USE A DAMN EMAIL 1 FOR ALL YOUR JUNK, SUBSCRIPTIONS AND ACCOUNTS, EMAIL 2 FOR WORK AND EMAIL 3 FOR MONEY STUFF. By doing this you'll also realize that all the fake paypal notices of payments locked and whatever from these clowns will likely fall on email 1 and 2, but since you use email 3 for all your money stuff, then you know its a fake.

And of course, use INVOICES when doing payments. Doesn't matter if its a personal or business account, go create an invoice, remove all personal information like your real name, phone number, email, address, country, etc.

You don't even need the clients email, you just share it as a QR or a link, done, no need to expose yourself.

And last but not least, do the Invoice BEFORE starting the work, get paid before lifting the pen, and if after all the warnings and cases going around, you still do a drawing without payment first, then and it was a scammer, ok babygirl, don't worry, sell that drawing as an adoptable, farm it for content, use it as a drawing base for YCH, exploit it.

Sorry for double posting but APPARENTLY those commission scammers have showed up on Tumblr at least for the first time for me.

For those who don’t know what I am talking about, there were/are commission scams going on in Instagram and even places like Artstation where people would pretend to be interested in your work and try to commission a pet or portrait for the sake of trying to get your bank details. Here’s how to (somewhat) sniff them out:

1- They don’t seem to be an average customer/ person that would be involved in your fandom, or has a blank template for an account or don’t even follow you.

2- They ask you to draw a portrait or a pet picture either for themselves or their children/family.

3- They promise to overpay you (in the hundreds) and do not listen to you even if you firmly state the price is cheaper.

4- They are constantly asking for your email name, or private details regarding things like banking details or passwords or other private information others should not know.

5- They try and over reassure you they mean no harm, try to guilt you into giving them the info, or become aggressive over you not giving them what they want.

What should you do if you come across one of these guys? My best advice is to block and report. Sadly these people jump account to account so there isn’t really much to do other than spread this info to prevent artists from being scammed.

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mattscoquette · 2 days ago

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how do you think matt would react if he found his girl sh-ing? (u should make a one shot on this <3) would chris react the same as matt?

matt finding out his girl is sh

. detailed mentions of self harm and anxiety !! pls read with caution <3 this is also in no way romanticizing sh ! remember u are loved :)

you shakily pried open the back of your phone case, carefully removing the small blade you’d taken from your shower razor. standing over the sink as water poured from faucet, you slid up the sleeves of your sweater, an array of both fresh and healed scars adorning your skin. you felt tears prick your eyes as you began to slide the blade against your skin, slashing new cuts into your wrists.

as hard as you tried, you just couldn’t stop yourself from hurting yourself. it had become your way of coping with your anxiety, and your solution to every situation that arose. and matt, poor matt, was so observant in your change of behavior. the way you only wore long sleeves, how you seemed to panic whenever he held your hand. you two stopped having sex months ago. and you noticed how it affected your relationship. you noticed how everything that you did affected your relationship. and that only made you want to hurt yourself even more.

matt deserved a better girlfriend. or so you thought. in your head, you were ruining matt’s life. you were barely there anymore, feeling like you were a ghost watching your life from the outside. and you loved matt so much, so much that it hurt, and all you wanted was for him to be happy. but to you, if you weren’t happy, matt couldn’t be happy.

lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize the mess of blood you were making in the sink, and matt knocking on the door softly. “baby are you good? i’m home with food.”

you cursed underneath your breath, hurriedly turning off the sink and holding a fist over your cuts, trying to stop the flow of blood. i’m okay was all you could unconvincingly rasp out.

“are you sure? can i come in?” matt called out, his voice as sweet and caring as ever. because why wouldn’t it be. you were matt’s entire world, the only thing that mattered to him was you.

“i’ll be right out, i’m okay.” you spoke, trying your best to stop your voice from shaking. you looked down at your cloth covered wrists, dark stains seeping through the sleeves where your hand was clamped around them.

but, matt knew you. he knew something was wrong, and he knew you weren’t okay. so, matt being matt, pushed his thumb against the lock, twisting it as it unlocked. slowly, he turned the doorknob, opening the bathroom door where he saw you standing inside, a panicked expression on your face as you held a hand over your wrists.

matt’s eyes scanned around the bathroom, his face falling as he realized what you were doing. the blade on the counter, the blood in the sink, the way you were drawing your arms into your body. and suddenly, the last few months made sense. "sweetheart.” he couldn’t even manage a whisper.

matt swiftly made his way to you, wrapping his arms around your body as he held you tight. you couldn’t stop the sobs that racked your body, crying hard into matt’s chest while he just cradled you. he kissed the side of your head repeatedly, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he pulled you both down onto the tiled floor, letting you climb up into his lap.

“i’m sorry,” you sniffled, burying your face into his shoulder, “i’m sorry i’m so messy.”

matt pulled away, his expression as if you had just personally offended him. his ran a thumb across your tear stricken cheek, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “don’t be sorry, i’m not upset.”

he continued to comfort you, rocking you back and forth in his arms on the bathroom floor.

“i’m always gonna be here for you.” he mumbled into your hair, feeling his own eyes begin to well with tears. “no matter what.”

“always?”

“always.”

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. ⋆˚꩜｡ i kinda wanna start trying to write more angsty stuff like this, ty for this request ! can’t lie i lowk cried writing this but i feel like it lowk helped me in a way bc i used to struggle w this. anyway i hope u guys like <3 and if anyone needs someone to talk to im here !!

#© mattscoquette #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo angst #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic

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sugar-plum-writer · 2 days ago

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Show Me What You Got <3

Tags: Jing YuanxFem!Reader; O*er-stimulation to max; Established Relationship; Jing Yuan eating you out; Man-handling; P*ssy drunk Jing Yuan; c*m-play; body worshipping; rough sex; back to back o*gasms; clit play; NSFW + more NSFW; explicit; MNDI! (18+); usage of pet names- "Love, Darlin', Darling, Sweetheart, Dear, Dearest"; Slightly Possessive and Obsessive Jing Yuan; Down Bad Jing Yuan

A/n: Head empty nothing other than how good Jing Yuan would be at eating p*ssy- I want him so bad- god I have lost it- "Once you close your eyes- eyes, running down your thighs- thighs, got you hypnotized- 'tized, I got you beggin' for more~"

Synopsis: What happens when you ask your boyfriend exactly how good he is at eating p*ssy?

Word Count: 1.6k

Jing Yuan considered himself to be fairly experienced in various aspects, even in the sex business- he's lived for so long after all. His skills will be on another level compared to others.

You knew that he was damn good at what he did- just a touch from him grinding his thumb on your g-spot in that particular way and angle was enough to make you be a mess. It's like he knew your pussy better than you did- knew the exact g-spot- which angle to grind and fuck you in.

But, you were always curious just to know exactly how good he was, who would not?

That's how because of sheer curiosity you ended up with him swirling his tongue on your cunt. The great general, your lover, oh so esteemed man respected in the cosmos between your legs just to satisfy your curiosity of how good he really is

And who is he to not indulge your curiosities? If it means getting to have his way with you~

......

"J-Jing Yuan…hah..ngh I ca-can't", you panted gasping for air as you arched your back, mewling and gripping the sheets while Jing Yuan swirled his tongue against your cilt flicking it

"My love- of course you can~ weren't you the one curious about how good I am hm?~", he hummed against your walls which were clamping down on his tongue burying himself even more nose-deep into your oh-so-sweet cunt- lapping it up like a thirsty man who found water in the desert

"ah- hah ngh!", arching your back even more with hands running through his hair- gripping it till your knuckles turned white

Jing Yuan looked into your half-lidded eyes amused and chuckled, "Someone's falling apart huh? How is it? My skills darlin?~", his deep voice reverberated against your dripping cunt- sending shivers up your spine, scratching a spot in your brain which just made you more lost- god damn why is his voice so deep and hot? He knows exactly what it does to you when he speaks like that

Pressing his warm tongue flat against your vulva, sliding it into the sides- making you widen your eyes and gasp as his tongue continued to caress the nook and crannies- each lip of your vulva exactly at the right angle and spot; letting the pre-cum coat his tongue and then teasingly flick it against your clit- making you whimper as tears trickled from your eyes. He continued circling the spot again- and again- and again- kept repeating this process increasing the speed each time; teasingly drawing out moans from your throat and cum from pussy

Applying and shifting pressure to different areas as his warm tongue glided against your cunt grinding against your clit.

"You like this huh sweetheart? I should do this more often hm?~", the calmness of his voice, and the smug smirk were a sharp contrast to the mess that was your head- you felt so lost; whimpering moaning throwing out curses-

Whenever your movements got too out of hand and your legs started to squeeze together Jing Yuan just held you down unable to move as he continued to eat you out

"J-Jing Yuan...it's.. too good ah…hah ngh!", mewling you squeezed your eyes shut wanting to get away from his skilled movements as the pleasure was too much- frantically trying to hold onto him, the sheets- anything

"I know darlin'- I know Y/n", he whispered huskily, eyes darkened with lust, "You taste so sweet my love- won't you give me more?~"

It felt too good- dangerously good- tears spilled out of your eyes. You wanted to run away, the overstimulation was too much- he was exploring your pussy feeling every little bump, every little curve- the areas which made you jolt, places where your nerves met- you swear even you have never explored your pussy like this ever

In such depth- he was digging deep into your skin- caressing every nerve, vein, and lines; mapping you out. Your bodies Christopher Columbus

"Darling you wanna know a fun fact?", his eyes gleamed devilishly as his tongue continued to caress a particular spot that was knocking the life out of you as you let out a grueling moan, "W-…ah- hah what is it 'Yuan", you stuttered your voice high-pitched and breathless

Seriously what is with him saying the most random things in moments like this?

"There are more than 2 g-spots more like there are 5 spots where the nerve-endings meet darlin'~", he arched his tongue a bit and grazed his canine lightly at the inner lip of your vulva sending jolts of pleasure- just when you thought you couldn't moan higher, here he was proving you wrong

"W-What?..", you shudder shakily trying to focus on what he is saying- eyes glassy glazed with pleasure

"Many times you aren't able to differentiate between them~ why don't I help you find all the spots huh? So you can differentiate between which spot you cummed from and tell me your favorite?~", he continued to ramble in a daze which half entered your head while the other half was just a mess

"I-I didn't even know…hah- that more than ngh ah!", your voice trails off as his thumb pressed against your outer vulva lips rubbing it while his tongue moved faster against the cervix of your inner lip right near the clit

You swore you could see stars with the way he was making you cum- rather than how many times he made you cum it was more about the quality of the orgasms, the pleasure was too much, and your poor cunt was just oozing slick dripping all over as if a tap had been opened

To keep yourself from breaking you continued to grip Jing Yuan's hair so tight you must have ripped off some strands, holding on for dear life feeling your soul left your body. You knew that he had some great skills after all he has lived for so long but for him to be this good you weren't prepared for this.

Hell you think he might be the best pussy eater in all of Xianzhou.

All your nerves felt like it was on mind-numbing fire, ablaze from pleasure- your whole body felt abuzz in such a way your own body felt foreign to you- all tingly, eyes glazed over looking into his gleaming golden eyes which were brimming with sharp focus.

Your body became his.

An alertness looking at each moan that escaped your lips, the way your eyes fluttered as you gasped, each twitch, each arch, and each grind against his tongue

You swear his brain was noting down each movement and your reaction to the movements of his tongue on different areas of your vulva

"My my~ I have not even gotten serious yet you are already such a mess my dear?~", lifting his head with a white sheen coating his lips and chin, golden eyes burning with lust; white hair sticking to his forehead- the smug smirk with sinful teasing words echoing

"Whatever shall we do my dearest? What a messy girl I've got on my bed tonight~", sweeping his long white hair back he continued to maintain eye contact- his features looked even sharper, the dim golden lights making his golden eyes glow even more- hitting his face at just the right angles

How can someone be this handsome? You swear if this locks did not cover his face and he kept his hair swept back- everyone would loose their minds over him- they all simped for him they will simp even more

"Will my love even be able to handle more?", teasingly he wrapped your legs around his neck, hands on your waist moving up to your breasts- pinching the nipples- flicking them with his fingers while his hot breath was on your puffy cunt-

Pressing his lips on the outside of the vulva- kissing it with his tongue- then roughly moving his tongue side by side over your clit at increased speed, focus, and pressure- making you arch your back at the speed he was working making you overwhelmed

"Jing Yuan- !", gazing into his eyes full of desperate need you reached your hand towards him- running your fingers through his white locks, "Need you so bad- please- please I wanna cum!", with quivering lips you mewled as more tears poured out; your brain was too overrun with him- all it could think about was him and his tongue and how good he was making you feel

Looking into your eyes all dazed, seeing the need in them- flushed cheeks, lips parted, so breathless was enough to make Jing Yuan want to give you even more pleasure, hell he'd give you everything you ask for

A sick twisted desire to make you drown in pleasure, an abyss of pleasure till you could not breathe, think, a mind-breaking pleasure you'd never forget- only him- him- and him

He wondered what expression you'd make if he told you these dark thoughts, would you run away?, be scared? or be as obsessed with him as he is obsessed with you?

Closing his eyes he continued to taste you- memorizing the exact spots holding you down- drinking it all in. His mind clouded by your moans, nails digging in deep, back arching, kneading your breasts and flicking the nipples

No one's ever made him like this- so drunk- so blissed out- he's loved many in his lifetime but none to the point of losing himself- he would be ruined if you ever left him- he would shatter if you left him- he loved you so much enough to set the Xianzhou on fire

Throw a single smile his way and give him poison

He'll drink it happily like it's Heaven on Earth

If your hands are wrapped around his neck trying to kill him

He'd admire the beauty in your eyes

"Look at her. I would die for her. I would kill for her. Either way, what bliss"

Link to Master List! Reblogs, hearts and comments appreciated~ <3

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kvroomi · 2 days ago

Text

artist!reader and skater!suna who you first meet in college one morning when you’re running late for class, carrying a comedically large portfolio across the campus square. your head is buried deep in your phone, checking for last-minute updates on the class. that’s when an abrupt gust of wind shoots across your face and forces your head up instantly, only to see a skater soaring past with hardly an inch of space between you.

“what the hell, watch it!” you yell, immediately stepping backward and using both hands to grasp your portfolio tightly.

the skater remains undisrupted, gazing forward and only casually waving a hand back to call, “my bad!”

artist!reader with skater!suna who you see again, a week after almost knocking you over. coincidentally enough, he's sat at the exit steps to the art building, tying his shoelaces with his skateboard next to him.

"fucking prick." you walk straight past, muttering under your breath.

he must have heard you because, within seconds, he's walking by your side. "no way! you're the girl from last week. don't tell me you're still mad about the other morning! it was an accident." he throws his hands up in disbelief.

you ignore him and continue walking.

artist!reader with skater!suna who is determined to befriend you after your brief interaction. he waits at the same steps of the art building until your classes finish, skating up to you when he spots your familiar figure. he attempts to strike up a conversation by commenting on how "serious" you always look, and it's then that you bite back with a witty retort and he grins.

"took you long enough to talk to me."

artist!reader and skater!suna who both hang out at the skatepark together one afternoon. you're practicing your motion sketches, discreetly observing suna skate and using him as a reference for your drawings.

suna walks over to you, leaning on his board. “whatcha drawing, picasso?”

“you,” you say without looking up. his heart skips and he can feel his face grow warm.

“oh yeah?” he peers over your shoulder. “do i look cool?”

“you’d look cooler if you didn’t wipe out every five minutes,” you deadpan, flipping to another page.

“alright, picasso,” he says, with a roll of his eyes. “let’s see you try then.”

and that’s how you find yourself on top of suna’s skateboard, gripping his shoulders for dear life.

“relax, you’ll be fine,” he says, holding your hands to steady you.

“easy for you to say,” you grumble, eyes wide as he starts to slowly push the board.

you don’t even make it five feet before you’re losing your balance and falling. suna doubles over laughing, pulling out his phone with a sinister grin. “hold still, i need a picture of this for the archives.”

“don’t you dare,” you warn, scrambling to your feet. but it’s too late—he’s already posting it on his story with the caption: skating > art

artist!reader who gives skater!suna the nickname deckhead, after a particularly grueling painting session.

“can you please just focus for once?” standing up from your desk and tossing your paintbrush aside, you continue angrily. “i’m trying to get this done, and you’re just—”

“distracting?” suna interrupts, raising an eyebrow. “you’re the one acting like the world’s ending because you can’t paint a perfect line.”

there’s a sharp jab of irritation. "it’s not just about the line! i’ve been working nonstop on this, and all you’re doing is—"

he cuts you off again, this time with a half-smile. “i know, i’m sorry.”

you close your eyes to take a deep breath, trying to keep calm. but the words slip out before you can stop them. “god, you’re such a dickhead.”

the moment it slips past your lips, you feel the tension rise in the room. it’s silent but as if the universe had a sense of humor, you glare at his skateboard propped against the wall.

“no.” you scoff, shaking your head, your frustration turning into something more mocking. “you’re not even a real dickhead, you’re just a… deckhead.”

suna blinks, frozen for a second. “deckhead?”

you cross your arms, mouth curling into a sinister grin. “yeah, a deckhead—wandering around with that stupid board like it’s your whole personality. you just can’t be serious about anything!”

a beat.

and then he laughs. suna laughs. he laughs so hard that tears are forming in the corners of his eyes. he laughs so hard that you begin laughing too.

suna sighs slowly, dropping his gaze to meet yours. “i didn’t realize you were genuinely getting upset. i promise i didn’t mean to make you feel worse.”

you let your head rest against your desk. “i know. i’m just frustrated because i’ve been at this for hours and it feels like i’m getting nowhere.”

there’s a long pause before suna steps closer. “i’ll stop being a deckhead.”

he grins and ruffles your hair. “... but only because i care.”

artist!reader who invites an incredibly eager skater!suna to one of your artsy gallery showcases. he surprises you by showing up in an actual button-down instead of his usual baggy jeans and shirts, bringing along his skater friends who also happen to be equally fond of you. upon seeing your work, they all begin hyping you up loudly, drawing eyes from surrounding exhibitions and sticking out like sore thumbs.

at one point suna leans in and whispers, "i'm pretty sure that guy over there is trying to steal your vibe."

confused, you turn to see a very serious art critic examining your painting and it takes all your effort to not burst out laughing.

skater!suna who shows up unannounced at artist!reader's studio with a blank skate deck and a set of paint markers.

"what's going on?" you'd just woken up from a nap and suna thought you looked absolutely adorable.

"empty canvas," he breathlessly replies, distracted by his newfound urge to just shrink you and keep you in his pocket. "i thought you could make it cooler."

and he’s right because you do.

“dude, where’d you get that?” atsumu asks, pointing at the board the next time suna is at the skatepark.

“custom-made by that genius over there,” and suna proudly nods towards you, sat on the concrete of the park and deeply concentrated on a sketch.

artist!reader and skater!suna begin dating not through a grand confession, but just a subtle shift.

it happens when suna walks you to your class, a daily ritual that you've both become accustomed to, so it's almost instinctual the way he leans down and leaves a soft kiss on your cheek. you both pause, realizing what just happened, but instead of freaking out, you're clutching onto one another from outside your classroom laughing.

from then on, there's no formal conversation about it--just a mutual understanding.

skater!suna who asks artist!reader to paint his nails black for him because he saw someone at the skate park with painted nails and thought they looked cool. you nod excitedly and oblige. by the end, suna’s nails are decorated perfectly in black, except for his ring finger which you sneakily managed to paint pink.

when he notices, he glares at you, “really?”

“you wear it well,” you shrug in response.

artist!reader who stumbles across a notebook in skater!suna’s backpack when he asks you to grab his phone for him. you’re curious and can’t help but flip through it to find… doodles?

you bring it back for him, his phone long forgotten. “are these supposed to be me?”

“woah, what the fuck! where’d you find this?!” suna snatches the notebook, immediately shutting it closed before offering you a sheepish grin. “art is hard, okay? not all of us are picasso reincarnated.”

you’re flattered he’s been doodling you in his spare time.

skater!suna who gets oddly competitive when other skaters are present at the skate park while you’re there. he pulls off more tricks than usual (which is already a lot because he’s always trying to impress you), but looks for your approval after every single one.

he may have gotten a little too carried away because the next second he’s slipping from his board and now he’s landed flat on his back. he groans, embarrassed while you laugh. he watches you from the ground and wonders if he should make a fool of himself more often just to hear you laugh. he doesn’t let this show and instead rolls his eyes, getting up from the ground.

“glad you’re entertained, y/n.”

skater!suna who loves to blast his music when practicing tricks vs. artist!reader who needs the quiet to focus.

“riiiiin! can you turn it down, please? i’m trying to concentrate.” you yell at him.

“i’m literally landing this trick for you.” he replies teasingly, turning the music up even louder.

you end up compromising with a pair of suna’s noise-cancelling headphones and he begrudgingly lowers the volume—slightly.

#haikyuu #haikyuu masterlist #fanfiction #haikyu #suna x reader #suna fanfic #suna fluff #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintarou #suna rintaro #suna imagines #inarizaki

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coldkingwasteland456777 · 2 days ago

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Ok wait i just read the tags and this got even better, I love the Heavenly Demon version of the abyss, (love thinking about how long it would take for Binghe to clean Shen quingqiu's blood off his sword, like every time he looks at it he almost throws up but if he goes to clean it he just hears SQ manically apologising for staining his sword with his unclean blood and just *can't*)

Ok because in the heavenly demon version I assume Binghe is still the protagonist and SQ is the big bad that reappears and has to be defeated in a glorious battle and obviously SQ had internalised a view of LB as his executioner that is disgusted by him and so after going through the torture of the abyss and then finding Xin mo which obviously does not help his sanity he unexpectedly runs into Binghe in Jinlan city (I'm thinking he's going through the path of joining Hua Hua palace sect because as a heavenly demon essentially demons flock around him in the demon realm so he's trying to avoid his canon fate as a Demon Emperor that has to be put down by becoming a righteous cultivator that blends into Hua Hua palace and never has to come into contact with LB BECAUSE the system disconnected as he fell into the abyss because like in canon Luo Binghe is the power source so SQ could do whatever in the abyss and when he got out he only took Xin Mo because he had no other way out and now he's got the sword he's under it's influence and it's not letting go. also because SQ is so lovely that everyone that knows him is outraged at Binghe for casting him off as his disciple or if he's going with the lie that he was kidnapped at the conference by demons and only just managed to fight he way out now then they can be outraged binghe didn't look hard enough for him, which is hilarious because in reality every moment binghe could spare he was using to find way to break into the abyss despite knowing he as a human could not survive) so basically when they have they're unexpected reunion SQ is both terrified and furious, even though he does'nt want to draw the protagonists ire and get executed early (and he doesn't want to hurt Binghe), binghe represents his death and his presence has re awoken the system which is the reason he just had to through years of torture.

So, SQ is so calm, incredibly calm, and his behaviour is appropriate for reuniting with a Peak Lord because of course they have no other connection. He is not holding by any feral rage by the skin of his teeth and he's definitely just not looking LB in the eye because he doesn't want to get even more of his attention.

From LB perspective, he is having an out of body experience he is so overwhelmed, all higher functions have shut down, he's just kinda, staring at SQ (genuinely questioning if he's hallucinating) but then one of the Hua Hua ask SQ a question like "Shen-shidi" and he's like ok, ok, this is real, and his chokes out "Shen Quingqiu?" and SQ, doesn't even *look* at him, and the wave of euphoria kinda breaks when he rapidly is crushed by the truth that of course SQ hates him of course! He must despise him because everything was his fault and-

so much mental spiralling happens, and he ends up fainting and when he wakes up Mu Qingfang asks him what happened, has he been infected and so and so but he can barely get a word out before LB demands to know where SQ is and then MQ gets that familiar sad sympathetic look in his eyes that LB despises because SQ is *not dead* but then he starts freaking because of course SQ is not dead but *of course* but what if he's not here? What if it wasn't real? (he's experienced this sort of situation many times, so he sprints out of the infirmary before anyone can stop him and sprints to where the Hua Hua disciples are staying and bursts in demanding to speak to SQ and of course the HH disciples are angry and deny him entry and so he goes to push through them because they don't matter and see SQ slip out the window

SQ is is like i'm fucked, my death is now, clearly the protagonist is hunting me down because despite everything I've done, despite the fact I haven't even hurt anyone and I didn't choose this I deserve to die-- and basically goes down that spiral as he runs through the city, he's either so discombobulated he forgets to teleport or he's used too much qi to be able to teleport right now so he's stuck and also the sword is particularly bloodthirsty because its hungry which isn't healing SQ handle on his growing fury at his inevitable death

So when LB catches up and corners him in an alley because of course, SQ thinks, the protagonist would find him because he never had any chance since he was thrown into this dumpster fire of a world!

So LB grasp at his shoulder desperately trying to tell if this is real and SQ, just, snaps, completely

He slams LB into the wall, cracking his head against it and screams at him and at the same time loses control of his human disguise and LB pretty dazed, from the possible concussion, the fact he can feel SQ he alive, he's real- and the slightly nonsensical screaming

I don't quite know where it would go from their but it would be fun if SQ mauled LB a bit, maybe ended up feeding him his blood (LB didn't understand what was happening but he just drunk the blood without protest because he's insane) and then HH and cultivators from other sects come across them due to system meddling and because SQ is so out of it, he's easily knocked out but the one thing he does before the fight is knock LB out with his blood parasites because he still perceives him as the biggest threat

so LB wakes up AGAIN, but this time he's told that Hua Hua palace has 'kindly taken responsibility for missing a demon in their midst and taken SQ to the water prison for execution' and of course all of Cang Qiong are protesting but LB hears this and IMMEDIATELY goes to break out SQ out of prison

on a completely separate note; shizun luo binghe with a disciple shen yuan who fell into the abyss??? *thinks about LBH canonically stealing SQQ's corpse for 5 years* he'd hallucinate i think. like, like visual and audial hallucinations.

Keeps thinking he's seeing SQQ in the corner of his eyes, or wandering between the trees, amongst a group of disciples. Thinks he hears him calling for him, but its just the wind or another disciple.

Gets Xiu Ya reforged but patently fucking refuses to make a sword mound. Because his disciple Is Not Dead :))) There was No Body. He's Not Dead. And If You keep Insisting That He Is, He's Gonna Skewer You :). He's holding onto Xiu Ya so he can return his most favored disciple's sword when he returns. It's on his hip right next to Zheng Yang where it's supposed to be.

Also this motherfucker?? does not sleep btw. He has the image of SQQ, wide eyed and hysterical and standing at the mouth of the abyss burned into his fucking eyelids. Can't use the dreamscape to escape it either because he keeps trying to save him and either he does and it's an incredibly cruel trick to wake up to, or he doesn't and he gets his heart broken in several different pieces again.

There is no convincing this man that Shen Qingqiu is dead. Absolutely nothing at all. He is buried so deep in denial that moles would be jealous of how deep he is. He keeps making tea for two in the bamboo house only to remember that it's just him. SQQ's fans are hiding everywhere, little reminders of his presence. He goes to wake up SQQ on the mornings he sleeps in-- only to find the room empty.

#svsss

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nobodyknowsimalesbian777 · 2 days ago

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Anderson - Abby (Tlou 2)

NSFW tags - enemies to lovers lowkey, hate sex, masturbation, powerbottom!abby, face-fucking (r!receiving), orgasm denial sorta (a!receiving), 18+

authors note: need to dominate a buff woman so bad oh my goddddddd. hoping to release something for ellie too if i get any requests or ideas 😈😈

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

you bolted straight up as you awoke, instinctively reaching for the pistol that sat on the nightstand next to you

you pulled your hand away, noticing the way the cold of the morning seemed to envelope you, making every inch of your skin quiver

sweat gathered on your brow in spite of this, gathering on your palms as you rested your head in your hands

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you reached over to grab your worn journal

the cover was sturdy, with only a few scruffs and scratches, probably from you throwing it against your wall so often

the inside however, was absolutely filthy, filled with lewd drawings and stories of the woman you adamantly hated, abby anderson.

she was a wlf soldier, who you worked far tot close to. you had been on the same unit for years, which ment years of you enduring abbys hate-flirting

you knew she did it on purpose, because she saw first-hand how it riled you up. you would think the physical fights would be enough to split you two up.

you couldn't help it, the frustration made your face, and cunt, become unbearably warm. and she was just so easy to catch off guard when she got flirty.

so you had moved to journaling about abby, aggressively.

'had another sex dream about anderson again??? i swear to god she can't won't leave me alone, even in my dreams. i can't stand her.'

you slammed the cover shut, burrowing back under your blankets and trying to clear the image of abby's bare thighs from your mind

of course it was all you could think of. you couldn't catch a break.

it was andersons fault, you didn't mean to walk in on her changing. maybe if she fucking answered when you knocked it wouldn't have happened.

instead you're here, burying your hand between your legs and thinking about her toned thighs, the way they met with her plump ass

and her back, oh my god, her back.

you wanted to watch her back muscles ripple and flex while you fucked her from behind,

tugging on that stupid braid and drawing out the most needy moans

slick pooled under you as you fantasized about abby,

thinking about all the ways you would show her how much you hated her

"fuck you, anderson" your voice was low as your fingers sped up, the feeling on your clit drawing out quiet groans

and just as it was starting to get good, you felt your blanket come flying off you

an all too familiar voice echoing through your quiet room "well fuck you too-"

you met eyes with Abby just in time to see them shoot open, her jaw dropping while she took in the sight in front of her

"oh my god." you were surprised by the lack of disgust in her voice, which you expected

still, you felt your stomach sink as you realized abby had just caught you thinking about her,

with your hands down your pants.

her muscular frame took up so much space in your room, space that you had never imagined she'd be here to fill

"they told me to come wake you up..i- you didn't answer when i knocked" her voice trailed off as her eyes traveled down your body,

clad in pajama pants and a sports bra, not nearly enough clothes to be having this conversation with her

you swear you were in shock, and you opened your mouth to explain yourself, but no words came to your defense

"so...you're not going to tell me why my name is in your mouth right now?" her voice was challenging you, questioning if you really knew what she had just saw

"wrong anderson, i was thinking about your...uh, your...dad?" you really hated her for being an orphan right now.

"right. my dad. ohhkay." she cocked her brow at you, "didn't think you were that fucked up."

"NO! not your dad, thats not what...not like that" you looked up to see abby fucking laughing at you

a real laugh, one you had only seen from a distance, it seemed to light up her whole face,

that is until you sent a pillow flying off of it

"it's not fucking funny, abby!" her laughter just grew, almost doubling her over as she damn-near snorted

"i just caught you masturbating for me, after telling the whole unit how much you can't stand me," she had to fight off another fit of laughter "how is that not funny?"

your head landed in your hands, yet again. maybe this was just a nightmare, a horrible, cruel nightmare that you would soon wake up from

but it wasn't a nightmare, and when you felt abbys body press up against yours, you didn't think you wanted it to be.

her lips met yours in a harsh collision, both of your bodies a flury of passion and hatred as you both grabbed at every bit of flesh you could

your hands landed on abbys shirt, tugging it over her head in one movement with her sports bra

her tits sat perfectly, right in front of you. they were small, mostly muscle from her vigorous training, and they were absolutely captivating

your mouth found its way to her rosy nipples, sucking them harshly, one after the other

abbys pretty moans bounced off the walls while your tounge worked circles around her nipples,

her back arching off the bed, pressing her chest farther into you

you couldn't stop yourself from blindly searching for the waistband of her jeans, popping your mouth off her chest when you felt her belt

abby watched you with a smirk while you fumbled with her belt buckle, every frustrated grunt you made sent a shock right down to her pussy,

she was too impatient to let you struggle for long, however. you watched as she reached down and flipped her buckle open with one hand

"i need you on my tounge." you muttered, so incredibly turned on by her casual behavior and shit-eatting grin, which she was very aware of

her hips bent upwards, allowing you to pull her jeans and boxers off, eliciting a small gasp from the woman above you as the cold air hit her core

you hadn't pegged abby to care much about body hair,

nobody did anymore, with everything else there was to worry about these days

but sitting pretty under her boxers was a little landing strip, guiding you right down to her soaking cunt

you thanked god when you saw it connected to a little happy trail, you found your lips drawn to it,

leaving little kisses down her stomach, the wiry hairs tickling your lips

abby was writhing under you while you took your time, kissing all around her thighs and stomach,

making sure to give her attention everywhere except exactly the place she needed it

the woman grabbed your hair, tugging it up and forcing you to meet her steel blue eyes

"stop fucking around and eat my pussy." her words were nowhere close to a request,

abby anderson was bossing you around, and you fucking loved it

her hands stayed in your hair as she pushed you down to her cunt, watching as you licked slow, experimental strips up her pussy,

seeing the way her face contored gave you the confirmation you needed to continue sloppily dragging your tounge from her aching hole to her swollen clit

nothing you'd ever had tasted more divine then her, and you found yourself gripping her thighs,

shoving her into your face like you needed her to breathe

no part of you doubted that her scent alone would be enough to get you off,

but you found yourself grinding down into the bed anyway, searching for some form of friction

abby took note of this, watching your pretty ass jiggle with every movement of your hips,

she couldn't even register the absolutely maddening sounds coming out of her,

every moan made your stomach flutter, and you felt high off her voice already

"mm, gonna make me cum if you keep that up pretty girl" abby was trying her best to stay in control, and she was failing miserably

her cocky words held no weight, you could hear the bliss in her voice, and you felt it against your face

every motion you made drove her closer to her release, and she was very vocal about how close she was getting

thoughts of her teasing and flirting came to mind, you couldn't shake all the times she had that stomach-curdling power over you,

and as much as you wanted to continue, you wanted to have that power over her more

so when her moans were getting uncharacteristicly high, and her hips were grinding up with a near painful force,

you pulled back

abbys muscular body squirmed under your gaze as her whines and pleas filled the room,

"wh- what? no, no, no i was so close" you wanted so badly to dive back between her legs, to make her shake and come undone for you,

but she just sounded too good begging for you, so you placed a firm slap on her ass,

eliciting a surprised yelp from her as you gathered your clothes and started getting dressed

abbys desperate eyes followed you, watching with confusion as you threw her clothes into her lap

"they're gonna wonder where we are, better hustle anderson." you said as you head out your door, watching her scramble to get ready and get back before any questions arose.

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

you watched as abby scrambled over to the meeting table, all eyes on her and her flushed face

she tried to steady her breath, asking "what?"

manny looked between the two of you, eyes landing on you as you shared a knowing look with him.

"didn't expect you to be so loud abby, ." manny said with the same shit-eatting grin you had seen on her earlier,

both of you doubled over in laughter as her face lit up, random sounds sputtering out while she tried to explain herself.

you were looking forward to having the upper hand over her now.

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

listening to abby whimpering audio rn 🧘‍♀️🎧

#abby anderson smut #abby anderson #abby tlou2 #abby x reader #sub!abby #tlou smut #abby the last of us

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pinkiemachine · 2 days ago

Text

More BatFamily X Meet the Robinsons (I don’t have time to draw this whole thing)

Tim: What’s your name, fruit-head?

Jon: Well, Jon, but��

Tim: Jon, huh? Well, say, Jon, you haven’t seen a spleen around here have ya?

Jon: A spleen?!

Tim: Yeah, my spleen! :) Been digging holes all day. Can’t find it anywhere.

Jon: Alright, look—I need to get back to the garage. Damian left me down there, and I wasn’t suppose to leave, and then this monster attacked me on the porch and—

Tim: Monster? There’s no monster on the porch you ninny! XD

Jon: Listen to me—

Tim: Of course, I also didn’t think there was a Starro living on my arm, and—whoop! *lifts arm to reveal Jarro* Looky there! Hope he ain’t got rabies!

Jon: Dude—I need to get to the garage!

Tim: Oh, sure, I’ll get you there in a jiffy. I know a shortcut!

——————————————————————————————

*opens secret entrance to the living room*

Tim: Welcome to the garage! … … … Well, I’m completely lost.

Jon: …

Artemis: Hello, Tim!

Tim: Hey, Artemis! Jon and I are looking for the garage!

Dusan: We have a garage?

Tim: Apparently so. :)

*and maybe Dusan and Artemis have a duel or something, idk*

——————————————————————————————

*Damian arrives back in the garage*

Damian: Alright, Jon. I’ve got the—*the garage is empty* …Jon?

——————————————————————————————

*Tim and Jon walk past Jason who’s beating the snot out of a punching bag and screaming*

Tim: That’s Jason. He’s pretty chill.

Jon: …

——————————————————————————————

*I don’t know how to translate Nyssa into Art’s bit*

——————————————————————————————

*Tim and Jon on the roof*

Tim: Well what are we doing up here?

Jon: Looking for the garage…

Tim: Oh yeah!

——————————————————————————————

*in another room of the house*

Mar’i: Jake! You stop hogging the trapeze or I’m telling mom!

Jake: Oh, lighten up, sis!

Mar’i: Jake, I mean it!

Dick: Children, please! Your mother is trying to take a nap—

Starfire: What is all the yelling out here?!

Jake: She started it!

Mar’i: He started it!

Starfire: I don’t wanna hear any more!

Dick: Now, sweetie—

Starfire: Don’t you sweetie me! I’m going for a drive.

*leaves and peels out*

Tim: That’s strange. She usually takes the Harley.

Jon: …

——————————————————————————————

Tim: Ooh, I think my girlfriend Steph is baking cookies!

*opens door to disco room, and Steph is jamming out*

Tim: Bake them cookies, Steph!

——————————————————————————————

*looking at Ace*

Jon: Why is your dog wearing glasses?

Tim: Oh, because his insurance won’t pay for contacts.

ba dum tss!

——————————————————————————————

Tim: That’s Duke, and that’s Cassandra.

*both wave “hi”*

*suddenly, Goliath appears!*

Tim: Oh look, there’s—

Jon: Ah! That’s the monster!

Tim: Oh no, Jon, this is just Goliath, one of Damian’s pets! And this is our butler, Alfred.

*Alfred has Goliath on a leash*

Alfred: Pleased to meet you.

Jon: Y-you too.

Tim: Hey, Alfie, any idea how to get to the garage?

Alfred: Have you tried Miss Kyle?

Tim: Well, that’s true, we didn’t ask her yet.

Jon: Who’s that?

Tim: Damian’s step-mom, Selina. I think you’ll like her :)

*opens door to Selina’s pet sanctuary*

Selina: Hey guys!

*there’s probably a bunch of cool creatures in there, like magical ones, alien ones, take your pick*

——————————————————————————————

ANYWAY, I’d write that they found Tim’s spleen, but I don’t think anyone wants to read that XD

Original Post for more context 👇

#dc #dc comics #batman #bat family #batfam #bat brothers #funny #meet the robinsons #disney #meet the waynes

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nejiverse · 10 hours ago

Text

KIDS AND CARS

Toji Fushiguro

In which Toji who has been a father for six years is bested by his own girlfriend who has never been a mother. Fem! Reader

cw: none, im starting the ‘megumi being an expressive kid’ agenda 🫡

700ish words

Megumi was at that age where he rebelled against everything and anything Toji said or did. Frankly, it was starting to annoy Toji, he was starting to think his own son was trying to make his life a living hell on purpose

Then there was you who made it seem so effortless. Toji couldn’t comprehend why his six year old son only listened to his girlfriend

This particular day, Toji had an unimpressed look etched on his face as he folded his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. He was clearly fed up

“You have to put your toys away Megumi, I keep stepping on them”, he tried to be somewhat nice, he really did. But the boy just flat out ignored him as if he was deaf or something, continuing to bash his toy cars against each other while mimicking explosion noises. He was sat comfortably on the living room carpet with not a care in the world

Toji felt like a vein was about to burst as his brow twitched involuntarily. “I’m talking to you brat”, he spoke sternly, his patience drawing thin

In Toji’s defence, the little boy’s cars were scattered absolutely everywhere, it was hard to walk by without stepping on one. Besides, he was only playing with three out of the millions of toy cars on the floor

“Don’t wanna”.

Toji itched his head and clenched his teeth. Since when did his little boy upgrade from a simple ‘no’ to a ‘don’t wanna’?

Without a doubt, out of all the opponents he had faced in his lifetime, Megumi had to be his biggest challenge yet

“Yeah well I don’t give a fu—”, before Toji could finish his sentence, a hand came over his mouth

“Be nice”, his beloved girlfriend had a frown on her face because of his vulgar language

Toji sighed, relaxing his facial muscles and unfolding his arms. “Yeah yeah”

The woman approached Megumi, crouching down beside him with two of his little toy boxes in her hands after overhearing the whole situation while she was tidying his room.

“Say Megs”, she started with the nickname he loved to hear. “I’m really bored right now, can you play a game with me?”, at the mention of a game, Megumi perked up, turning to face Y/n

“What game?”, he asked, curiosity evident in his big blue eyes

“Whoever can pick up the most cars and put them into these boxes in 30 seconds wins!”, she explained before feigning a sad expression. “Oh but I don’t think you’ll be able to beat me, I am a faster runner than you after all”

Megumi felt challenged. “Liar! I’m the fastest!”, he boasted proudly

She smirked. “We’ll see about that….3, 2, 1, go!”, and the both of them scrambled to pick up as many cars as they could from the ground

Toji watched in amazement how good she was with him without ever having any experience with kids. He definitely chose the right person to date

Later that evening, after Megumi was tucked into bed and the house was quiet (finally), Y/n got comfortable between Toji’s legs as he threw on a random movie.

“Thanks for earlier, I feel like Megumi has a secret vendetta against me at the moment”, he commented

She laughed. “Im sure he doesn’t, you just have to know how to approach him”, she leaned her head against his chest. “He really is a good kid”.

“Mhm”, he hummed against her neck as his head moved to rest on her shoulder, his arms slithering around her waist

“Makes me think we’d do alright with more, y’know?”, his hands moved under her shirt and massaged the flesh around her stomach

She couldn’t resist the smile that creeped onto her lips as she turned around in his arms. “Toji Fushiguro are you asking me to have your kids?”.

“Is that a yes?”.

Well, is it?

a/n: off topic but kinda wanna start writing for bleach now that im caught up with the newest season 🤭 (requests opened btw)

masterlist :)

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silaslich · 2 days ago

Text

The heat of imposition

John “Soap” Mactavish x f!reader x Simon “Ghost” Riley

Summary - Rugby AU. While watching a rugby match with Kyle you happen to catch the attention of not one, but two of the players. Neither of them like the fact that the other wants you too. [part 1/3]

Wc - 4.8k

An - I know fuck all about rugby so ignore any inaccuracies, we’re here for sex not rugby

It isn’t by chance that you find yourself at the pitch.

Your arm had been twisted- hands tied. You’d lie and say you had no choice, but the truth is that you simply have nothing better to do on a random rainy Saturday in October.

Kyle hadn’t given you much of an alternative when it came to making plans; his idea of fun might be sitting in the cold as he nurses a cheap beer and ogles a cluster of beefed-up middle aged men while they run around tackling each other- but you? It wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when he’d texted you and asked if you were free to hang out.

You know him well enough to know that he’s called you in to be his wingman; someone to keep the beers coming to feed his already brimful confidence, someone that will push him if the chance for him to chat someone up arises. It’s what usually happens when the two of you meet for a drink or for dinner, his eyes wander and his intuition carries him toward the closest thing to a decent lay.

You’ll wave him off with a smile and mouth at him to call you when it’s convenient- usually to update you on how incredible or lacklustre the sex he’d abandoned you for was. You’re not bitter about it, not really, you have to give it to him. At least one of you is getting something. You suppose it’s for lack of trying, what with work and a sheltered nightlife- you can’t exactly say you’re putting yourself out there.

Kyle has tried time after time, sliding folded pieces of paper with your number scrawled on it to punters as they sit at the bar waiting for their drinks or pulling you with him as he ventures to the dance floor- accidentally bumping you into strangers, drawing their eyes and their attention. You appreciate his efforts, but you’re not exactly looking, it’s all the same to you. You’d slept around abit at uni and enjoyed it to a point, chasing that high and filling the endless void of assignments and work placements- you need something more now.

Settling is a scary thought. You’re not sure that’s what you’re after, but you don’t want a meaningless one-night stand either. You haven’t found that happy-healthy medium yet, you can’t be sure it exists. At least not to the men in this town, everyone knows everyone- it’s hard to get away from that.

You grit your teeth hard, feeling the way the cold ebbs its way into your bones. Even the beer isn’t keeping you warm, and that usually does the trick.

“Is it nearly over yet?” Your teeth chatter around the words, Kyle tuts at you.

“You can’t be serious” he turns to look at you, noting that you are in fact very serious. He frowns slightly. “It’s not even halftime yet”.

The sound that’s choked out of your throat makes him quirk a brow. Yet, Kyle’s attention is drawn back to the pitch by the sound of a whistle, some kind of swap between players has stilted the gameplay.

You’re not that well versed in rugby. Have kept up with it here and there, mainly because of Kyle and your boss because it’s all they talk about at work. They put it on every telly in the pub when their favourite team is on and they start to become idle when it comes down to the last few minutes of gameplay- stood there like toddlers that are transfixed by dancing fruits on a screen.

It’s quite funny really, watching Kyle as he barely tries to make it look as though he’s still working- rubbing a dry cloth over an already cleaned down table.

“Oh shit” Kyle’s breath carries on the breeze, drifting across your face as he speaks. It’s just that cold.

“What’s happening?” You mimic Kyle in the way he leans forward in his seat, watching carefully at what’s unfolding on the pitch.

Kyle doesn’t answer, instead watching as the away team’s players crowd together, meanwhile the home team congregates closer to their benches- they’re swapping someone on.

You see a wide smile crack across his face from out the corner of your eye, it pulls you to look at him fully. Seeing his wide-expectant eyes and gaped mouth, you grimace, slightly put off by just how much he’s enjoying watching on- you think you’d rather watch paint dry.

“When do they start brawling, ay? This is boring” you smack your lips together and take a heavy swig of your beer. It warms your throat, barely. Kyle turns to look at you, smiling like an idiot.

“Funny you should say that” he raises his brows and jerks his head in the direction of the players they’re swapping- you follow his gaze, it doesn’t enlighten you in the slightest.

You open your mouth to question him but Kyle beats you to it, already preempting your confusion and overall lack of culture for his favourite sport and his favourite team.

“They’re putting their main prop on, Riley” Kyle’s eyes watch the player in question and so do you, observing his team mates as they pump their fists and clap him on the back- following on as he moves further onto the pitch.

“He fight often?” You ask, eyeing the dark ink that stretches across both of his arms and retreats under the sleeves of his jersey.

There’s skulls and bones and snakes and gnashing teeth that make up a portrait of something that might be a dog. It’s hard to tell from all the way up in the stands; you’re sat within hearing distance of their shouts as the players go over strategy- but your eyes can’t quite focus enough to read the letters that brand his knuckles and the blocks of black ink that cover the backs of his hands. Shame.

Kyle laughs, something deliberate and knowing. “Yeah, you could say that”. His smile is hiding something, you just know it. You raise a wry brow.

“That why he was benched?” The look on Kyle’s face alone tells you all that you need to know, he nods as you shake your head with an unamused sigh.

“He’s been benched the last few games, close to being banned altogether from what I hear” Kyle observes Riley as he speaks, they’re about to restart play with a scrum.

You continue watching the game, noting another player that’s almost as big as Riley is. The back of his jersey reads Mactavish. He has a sharp smile on him, even with his mouth guard, you can’t closely see the rest of his features all that well, apart from his grown out mohawk- you didn’t realise this was the 70s.

Mactavish is quick to be on Riley, jumping high and wrapping his arms around the bigger man’s neck, hanging off him like a scarf. Their mouth-guard-smiles are wide and Riley swats at Mactavish, manhandling him until he’s got him hoisted off the ground entirely- that’s when he pushes him away and kicks his legs out from underneath him. Sending him skidding across the grass.

It’s rough housing. Simple play fighting. Kyle tells you it’s common practice for these two in particular, spending half their time butting heads and charging at each other like rhinos. Much to the dismay of their coach by the sounds of it. A whistle blows and it’s shrill in your ears.

“Pack it in bellends! Head in the game!” There’s a gruff looking man shouting from the side lines, he’s tall and broad with a beanie that’s pulled tight over his head- there’s specks of salt and pepper hairs in his mutton chops.

The two men snap their necks toward the coach and do as their told, trying to kick each others legs out from one another as they run toward where the rest of their team is forming up to restart play.

It’s starting to get interesting, because they’re not half bad to look at, these two, not half bad at all. Mactavish especially, bar the haircut. Riley on the other hand, he’s got that unconventional attractiveness about him; with his wonky nose and ashen blonde hair, hooded eyes that contrast heavily- they’re as dark as his tattoos. Perhaps it’s the way he carries himself too- his wide shoulders and thick chest, strong and solid and unbothered by the way the other men move out of his way when he passes the opposite team.

You don’t realise you’re gawping until Kyle waves his hand in front of your face, making you blink. He laughs to himself.

“Like what you see?” He asks, amused, watching as your cheeks flare. You bristle.

“Fuck off” you hate being caught out, especially after giving Kyle gripe this whole time about how boring all of this is. You stand abruptly, “I’m off to get something to eat, you want something?” Kyle eyes you, a smirk creeping up his face.

“Something salty if you don’t mind” he wags his brows and you smother your palm into his face as you squeeze past his legs to retreat down the steps toward the food kiosks. You hear his laugh follow you as you reach the bottom of the steps.

You keep an eye on the game as you walk, flitting your eyes from the pitch to the ground so you don’t slip on the steps. As you steal another glance over toward the home team, you find a pair of bright blue eyes looking right back at you. So blue they practically glow, burning right through you. As blue as celestite, something shines in them when he looks at you- but you’re quick to look away and scurry down the steps. Cheeks heating once again, for reasons even you’re not sure of.

It’s without your knowledge that Mactavish’s eyes follow you the entire time as you retreat. His stare trained on you. Distracted completely. Riley is quick to bring him back to earth, watching Mactavish watch you, he grunts as he steps toward the Scotsman, yanking out his mouth guard with a wet shlack sound.

“You ‘aven’t got a chance, now move your arse” Riley smacks the back of Mactavish’s head when he doesn’t move, watching you right up until the point you disappear out of his view. The Scot smiles wildly around his mouth guard, then spits it into his hand.

“Wanna bet?” he turns to Riley and Riley has seen that look before, many times, and it’s never ended well. Yet, he raises a brow as he looks down at the Scot, matching that same look himself.

After paying extortionate prices for a portion of chips and a burger to split you forego another beer each and go for water instead. It’s blatant daylight robbery.

You make a point not to look out onto the pitch as you make your way back to Kyle, save yourself from embarrassment and ending up falling on your arse. Kyle moves his knees to allow you past and you slump down into the seat, offering up the food to him so you can take a swig of water.

“You okay? You look flush, was it a long walk?” He picks up a few chips at a time as he shoves them into his mouth, chewing quickly and blowing air through his mouth from how piping hot they still are. You throw him a look, an unimpressed look.

“I’m freezing my tits off Kyle and I’m hungry, allow it” it’s a whine that leaves your mouth and Kyle soothes you mockingly, offering you some chips- you take them gladly.

Halftime comes and goes. The food has sated you, if only a little bit, but it saves Kyle from any more of your complaining. You find it easier to follow now, a belly full of food and the rest of Kyle’s beer that he didn’t want to finish- it makes you more palpable, makes you sit a little less stiff in your horribly uncomfortable plastic seat. Kyle appreciates it.

Mactavish and Riley don’t escape your eyes, not for the remainder of the game. It’s easier to gawp at them from up here, if they glanced over they wouldn’t exactly know that your eyes are fixed on them specifically, all they’d see is a pair of eyes looking in their general direction- obviously just following the ball as it passes hands. Little do you know, that they are indeed glancing over, as fixed on you as you are them, they’re just better at being sly with it. Only moving their eyes and not their heads and necks, not making it obvious. Not until Mactavish ups the ante.

It’s as you’re distracted for a second, turning your attention to your phone- your boss, Nik, asking if you can come in tonight. You text back quickly, letting him know you’ll see him at six. Looks like Kyle isn’t getting away from me at all today. That’s when you feel Kyle’s elbow in your ribs.

“Ow” you make a point to overemphasise, nudging his arm away from you like his touch burns.

“Look” his hand pats down repeatedly on your thigh as his opposite hand points towards the pitch, your eyes follow the point of his finger and your face pales.

It’s Mactavish. Waving both arms to get your attention, and when he has it his face beams- it makes you sink down into your seat, beyond blushed and embarrassed. He continues to wave as he rejoins the play, you watch the teams come back his way and then he winks at you, moving to turn fully to flank a teammate.

“Lucky bitch” Kyle’s mouth hangs open in shock, looking from you to Mactavish as he darts across the pitch. You groan.

“You have him then” Kyle laughs but you don’t, as nice as the player is to look at, you’re not in the mood for games.

“He wasn’t waving at me, love” he wags his brows and grabs your arm, flailing it around as he giggles like an idiot, far more excited for this than you are. You sit stock still and ignore Kyle, hoping he’ll pack it in. He does- eventually.

Before long, the game finishes and it’s the home team who are victorious. They jump and shout and knock into one another, again pulling each other into embraces and slapping each other’s backs with closed fists. It’s all well and good, you stand and pull Kyle with you- you’ve had enough of Rugby for one day.

Kyle lets himself be pulled along, filtering out amongst the thinning crowd. You’ve both got a few hours before you’re due to go into work, a quick nap wouldn’t go amiss, you guess it depends how fast Kyle can drive.

You’re walking in step with Kyle, careful of the slippy stairs, you clutch the sleeve of his jacket for stability and then there’s a voice that rings out. Thick with a Scottish accent and with an abundance of audacity to go with it.

“Oi! She yer lass or wha’?” It’s Mactavish, and he’s looking directly at Kyle, jogging over toward the stands.

Kyle stiffens and you glance at his face, he looks startled. Or would it be star struck? These players are celebrities to Kyle, you imagine this isn’t how he would want his first interaction with them to go. You watch Mactavish as he vaults over the first set of barriers, coming closer to where Kyle is now frozen to the spot- you’re stuck alongside him.

The stands are completely separate to the pitch and are raised up off of the ground instead of starting right at the pitch side, so Mactavish can’t actually get that close to talk. He instead has to settle for standing about ten foot beneath where you and Kyle are stood, craning his neck to grin up at the two of you. From this improved distance you can see him a lot clearer. There’s a prominent scar that cuts through his right eyebrow and reaches down his cheek and there’s the slight growth of stubble coming through on his cheeks and chin. He’s more handsome close up, you’ll give him that, it goes with the brashness he exudes. He knows he’s pretty.

He’s out of breath as he stands there, hands on his hips and so sweat slicked that you can see the way it drips down from his chin to his chest. It’s his eyes, still, they’re hardly natural. So bright and pale and beautiful to look at, you could fall right into them.

“Well?” The Scot wants an answer, you’re sure he won’t move until he’s got one.

Kyle wets his lips to speak but you cut him off.

“I’m no one’s lass, mate” there’s certain ways to hit on women, and coming right up to them and asking whoever they happen to be with if they’re single or not isn’t the best way- not in your humble opinion at least.

“Good news f’me then” his smirk cracks across his face, impossibly wide, your face doesn’t change at all. Still not impressed.

“What makes you think that?” It’s a honest question for him, does he think that because he plays a sport (sometimes)professionally that you’ll let him get in your pants? Does he seriously think that?

The man dips his chin as he stands there, shaking his head, it messes up the sweat-soaked length of his mohawk, when he looks back up at you again it’s messier then it had been. His smile is just as wide as before, his eyes crinkle from the autumnal sun as it beams from behind you. He flattens a palm to his chest and taps against it.

“Names Johnny” you raise a brow at him but it doesn’t deter him, not even in the slightest.

You’re not giving him clear indicators that you’re completely uninterested, more so that you don’t appreciate how he’s gone about the whole thing. Again, you must admit, he’s very lovely to look at.

It’s quick when you walk away, a game of chase, he can suffer for his pig-headedness. Kyle stands there, a little more than dumbfounded, while he wants to follow you- he also wants to speak with Mactavish, he’s been a fan for a long time. When he turns to look at the Scot down below, he finds him still smiling up at him, there’s a look of mischief in his eyes.

Only a few feet behind him stands another, it’s Riley, and he’d heard every word of your conversation with Johnny. He guesses the game is set now they know for sure that you’re single, but let’s be honest, they would have both been game even if you weren’t.

______________________________________

“Hold on a second, say that again?” Your jaw is locked tight, molars grinding, he can’t be serious.

Kyle scratches at the back of his head, sheepishly, there’s worry lines that are creasing his forehead as he looks between you and Nik. Good, he should be worried where you’re concerned. He fucked up.

“Look I said I’m sorry, alright? What was I supposed to say to him?” Kyle sits on a stool at the bar, opposite to where you and Nik stand side by side on the other side of it.

Nik throws you a glance and you shake your head at him, he’s just as unimpressed as you are, you both know that Kyle is smarter then this- at least, he is most of the time.

“How about not telling him where I work? Thats a start. May as well tell him where I live, Kyle” your tone drifts, while Kyle is your friend, he clearly hadn’t thought before he’d spoken. Thinking more about impressing his rugby idols than the safety of his best mate, these guys could be any breed of weirdo for all you know.

“I agree with her Kyle, you need to think before you say things like that” Nik folds his arms over his chest, thick brows furrowed as he stares at Kyle, who is scratching a single finger against the polished wood of the bar top.

You aren’t trying to gang up on him, he knows he shouldn’t have told Mactavish anything, but he still did- that wouldn’t change just because he suddenly felt bad. He’s got some grovelling to do, to say the least.

“Do you want to head home? I’m sure we can find a way to manage, doll” Nik’s eyes find yours, he’s always been a softie, always looking out for you like you’re the kid he never had. Your brows furrow.

“Absolutely not, I’m not about to be bullied out of work by a bunch of thick skulled ball chasers. Let ‘em try something Nik, they’ll soon find out” you leave the conversation at that, following the repeated wails of the glasswasher in the back as it lets you know it’s ready to be emptied.

—————————————————————————

For the most part, the night is typical. It’s a busy Saturday night in a louder part of town and there’s everyone from regulars to students to tourists. It’s an easier night for you thanks to Kyle, his want to get back in your good books means he’s doing all of the shit jobs. Cleaning the bogs and serving tables. Clearing the glasses away and scrubbing the sticky tables. All while you’re tucked behind the bar pulling pints and making drinks, it’s something you could get used to, Kyle should piss you off more often if this is the treatment you get.

You watch the clock out of habit and notice it’s almost half nine, only an hour and half before you close, not long before you can go home and wash the day away and sleep all of this off. You just have to get through another hour and a half unscathed, that’s it.

Mactavish dashes those plans.

Before you see them, you hear them. It looks like the whole team might be here, they pile in through the door and already look as if they’re half Irish. You fight the urge to roll your eyes, knowing you’re in full view of not just them but other customers too.

Mactavish squeezes through the bodies as they linger around the booths and seats, not all able to fit comfortably, Mactavish sings your name.

“Fancy seein’ you here, bonnie” he grins wide, no longer obstructed by the mouth guard.

Compared to earlier when he was covered in grass stains and sweat, you hate to admit that he scrubs up well. Dressed casually with a shirt that’s close to matching his eyes, he doesn’t seem like the type if you’re honest.

“Oh yes, what a coincidence” the sarcasm reaches, you watch it in his eyes, the way his jaw flexes. He smiles and shakes his head.

“Tough nut to crack, ain’t ya?” He’s unapologetic with the way his eyes wander, the music thumps loudly in your ears but you can still hear the heaviness the alcohol adds to his tongue.

“What makes you think I wanna be cracked?” You make a point to busy your hands, to do anything to distract you from his eyes, there’s lemons in front of you that need slicing- they’ll suffice.

He raises a brow at that. Sliding his elbows onto the bar, bringing his height down to yours, eye to eye, if you’d just look at him.

“Saw the way you were lookin’ at me bonnie” he drops his tone, practically husks the words, he’s teasing. You laugh.

“Bein’ pretty bold to say I’ve got a knife in my hand” you hammer the point in, bringing the knife down heavier then before against the chopping board only to raise it up to slide your finger across it to catch the juice. He watches you carefully.

“You know how to use it?” He asks, again teasing, seeing how much he can get away with. He wants to soften you up. It’ll take more than that.

“D’you wanna find out?” It’s an open question, depending on how he behaves he could very well lose a finger, you’d deal with any charges he might want to press tomorrow. He just grins at you stupidly.

“I wanna take you out” he leans forward, reaching an arm over the bar to swipe a lemon slice, you watch as he sucks it into his mouth. Never breaking his eyes from yours, he’s got you.

“I want a lot of things, doesn’t mean I can have ‘em” you haven’t clocked him yet, not completely, he seems pretty harmless. But don’t they all?

He hums, sliding the lemon out of his mouth between his fingers, considering you. “Could give ‘em to you” his eyes meet yours but you’re quick to look away, returning to the lemons.

You scoff. “If I agree to a date will you go away? I’m working” just because you agree to something doesn’t mean you’re obliged, you’ll think on it more clearly when you’re not at work- being stared at by those burning blue eyes.

“Pretty rubbish conditions if ye ask me” he slurps at the lemon obnoxiously, you see the flash of a tongue piercing.

“Well forget it then-“ he interjects.

“Chill yerself bonnie, I’m goin’” he holds his hands up in surrender as he stands back to his full height, the lemon slice is replaced back between his teeth- for a brief moment.

He moves to step away but he’s quick to turn on his heel, chewing the lemon down till it slots inside his cheek. “Be back for yer number to arrange that date” he wags a finger in your general direction as he speaks, quickly turning back toward the booth where his teammates are all squashed in together.

—————————————————————————

Half an hour. Just half an hour and you can start to close up. It’s the light at the end of the tunnel.

Mactavish had behaved since leaving you at the bar, hardly looking in your direction, which you appreciated. You didn’t need him and his stupid blue eyes knocking you off of your concentration, not when you’re handling this much glass. You steal a glance over at his table from time to time, hearing his roaring laugh and watching the way he interacts with his mates. They all look close. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, making them soft, sitting on each other’s thighs with arms slung around each others necks. You imagine it’s normal that they’re all so close, they must spend hours and hours and hours together just training let alone at matches.

It’s quietening down now as a whole, some tables still linger to chatter, like the rugby lot. Most have gone now, moving onto the better clubs, this is just a pit stop usually- somewhere to line their stomachs before they get so paralytic that they’re soon laid in the streets laughing their heads off or spewing their guts up.

It’s an opportune time to start clearing glasses, now that the bar is quiet if not ready to close. Gaz is in the cellar doing whatever it is that he does down there, you hate it down there. So you’ll take the better job of clearing glasses and shoving them in the washer, fully prepared to forget about them until you’re back tomorrow.

This is usually the case, balancing a dozen glasses on one tray because you’re too lazy to make two trips. You’re so close to the bar, almost within reaching distance, and then someone from the rugby table throws his hands up and throws you off balance.

You close your eyes as you feel yourself tumbling, you’ve had too many shards of glass blasted out of your eyes by Nik and his saline bottle of doom, so you squeeze them shut tightly. There’s suddenly a warm pressure that coils around your waist but you’re too distracted by the sound of the glasses smashing to think about it. You dare to crack your eyes open, gaze immediately falling to the ground and seeing the mess that you’ve made. For fucks sake. Your eyes skate from the broken glass on the floor to the hand at your waist, gripping you tight, flush with something solid.

From up close you can see now that the tattoos on his left knuckles read soul.

Riley’s breathing is heavy against your spine and you don’t move, you daren’t move, and it seems Riley is much the same. Not until you hear a whistle from across the rugby table.

“Looks real cosy, Simon” that accent, it’s Johnny.

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