#but I gotta make sure my set flows-

[vitiateoriginator]

I've been going thru a major creative block recently and I'm really depressed over it

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Route To Sin - Eddie Munson

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: eddie decides to go on a roadtrip with you to visit your sister in vegas, when you stop at a themed motel on the way, things quickly take a filthy turn.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: my first eddie munson fic!! i’ve loved this man for two years, i just finally decided to put it on paper lol, please let me know what y’all think!!

TW: dom!eddie, slight brat tamer!eddie, reader has a sister, drug use (weed), food mention, marriage talk, dacryphilia, breeding kink, daddy kink, bathtub sex, oral fixation, unprotected sex (don’t do this), creampie, cowgirl, mirror sex, degradation (brat, whore), porn mention, spanking mention, pet names (doll, babydoll, sweet girl, sweetheart, angel), hair pulling, fem + afab reader, reader gets slightly insecure at the end

Rating: R, 18+

——

A waft of earthy smoke billowed from the open driver’s side window, the familiar smell pulling Eddie’s attention back to the van. You knelt on the bench seat, body stretched across the expanse of the front cab to rest your folded arms against the edge of the window frame, silently watching your boyfriend pump gas. The last of the joint you’d been passing back and forth dangled limply between your pointer and middle finger, careful to avoid dropping the simmering butt and accidentally lighting the whole place up.

“If you keep blowin’ that roach shit my way I’m gonna leave you here.” That signature sarcasm rang heavy in his tone, canines peeking out from under his top lip with the smile he flashed at you.

He shut the fuel door, grabbing the roach out of your hand before snubbing it out against the heel of his boot and tossing it into the ashtray on top of the nearest trash can.

“I gotta go in to pay, do you want anything?” He fumbled with his wallet, pulling the wad of crumpled bills out of the worn leather.

“Get me a slice?” You asked, tilting your head toward the neon in the window that read ‘Pizza: Hot To Go’ in blinking red letters. He nodded, hitting a light jog into the convenience store, wallet chain slapping against his thigh with every step.

When you suggested a roadtrip to visit your sister in Nevada, you hadn’t fully taken into account how long you’d need to be in the van. Hawkins to Vegas wasn’t exactly a short trip, two thousand miles to be exact, and as much as you loved spending time with Eddie, the old, worn out seat of his van was starting to make your tailbone ache. Being 16 hours into a 28 hour drive had you feeling more stressed out than usual, you definitely needed to sleep in a real bed tonight if you hoped to get any relief before your big weekend in Sin City.

Eddie came bounding across the cracked pavement, pizza box in hand and you perked up, his goofy smile illuminated by the final sliver of dusk and the dingy glow of the old gas station sign above.

“I got a whole pie, Rick wasn’t fuckin around when he said that new stuff would make you feel like you’re starving.” He yanked open the door, the metal creaking loudly on its rusty hinge. You took the box from him, setting it on the bench between you as he hoisted himself into the driver’s seat, starting up the van to continue your journey.

“Eddie, can we stop at a motel tonight?” You asked, opening the box to lift a piece of pizza out, folding it down the center and bringing it to his face.

“M’not sure if there’s anything on the way, but we can stop if we see something, doll.” He turned his head, keeping his eyes on the road through his peripheral as he took a bite from the slice in your hand.

‘Welcome Home (Sanitarium)’ by Metallica blared through the speakers either side of the van’s tape deck, vibrations from the heavy bass flowing through the vehicle and melding with the warm haze your high pulled over your mind, your body relaxing into the stained upholstery of the seat. You kicked your bare legs up onto the dashboard, white lacquered toenails pulling Eddie’s eyes off the road briefly. His gaze shifted down to your ankle, then your calf, then landing on your plush thigh, your soft skin peeking out from under your short pajama shorts.

“Eddie, there!” You pointed toward the sign glowing overhead through the dirty windshield, reading ‘Heart’s Desire Motel’ in faded letters atop a large metal heart. His attention was quickly pulled away from your soft skin, pulling the van off the highway and into the small parking lot. The place was quaint, baby pink paint peeling from the siding, with an old ‘vacancy’ sign blinking in the window of the front office. You pulled your sandals on and jumped out of the van, slipping Eddie’s jacket over your shoulders to shield your bare arms from the chill in the night air. Eddie followed quickly behind, catching up to you with ease as you reached the front door.

A small bell rang when you pulled open the office door, the only source of light in the small room being a desk lamp situated behind the front counter. You waited for a moment, hearing a ‘be right with you!’ called from an adjoining space.

“How can I help ya darlin?” A sweet older woman emerged from a back storage space, setting some paperwork down and taking her place behind the counter.

“Can we get a room for the night?” You asked cheerily, excited to finally lay down on something that wasn’t a blanket in the back of Eddie’s van. She smiled and nodded, flipping through the room log book, and you took the opportunity to glance at your surroundings. The walls were the same light pink as the exterior, with heart and cupid motifs scattered across them to really hone in on the theming. The kitchy aesthetic was endearing, a reminder of the bygone honeymoon resorts of the 60’s.

“All our double twin rooms are booked for the night so we only have single queen rooms available, is that alright?” She looked between you and Eddie, knowing her question may as well have been rhetorical.

“That’s actually preferred, it’s our wedding night.” Eddie lied to the woman, a shiteating grin stretched across his face when you turned back to him and shoved his shoulder.

“Well in that case I’ll put you up in our honeymoon suite! It’s not much different from our standard rooms, but there’s a heart shaped tub for you two lovebirds to enjoy.” Her face lit up with the sweetest smile and your heart melted, guilt sitting low in your chest knowing it was a lie. You didn’t have the heart to tell her or question why she’d believed it given the way the two of you were dressed, but you shrugged it off, just happy to be able to finally relax.

You took the key from her as Eddie handed her the cash to pay for the room, twirling it between your fingers, a red keychain etched with the same logo as the overhead sign on one side and the room number above a small heart on the other. Eddie shoved his wallet back into his pocket, his arm wrapping around your waist to usher you out of the main office, calling out a ‘thank you’ as you left.

“What the fuck was that?” You grabbed your bag from the back of the van, shooting him a death glare only to be met with that ridiculous smirk he so loved to taunt you with.

“What, you don’t wanna be my bride?” He faux pouted, dark waves falling in his face as you reached for his bag. You over-exaggeratedly rolled your eyes, starting to walk toward the room.

“Guess it’s the atmosphere of this place getting to me, babydoll.” He slammed the door of the van, jogging to catch up with you as you started putting the key in the door lock. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment from how that little nickname made your heart want to burst out of your chest, Eddie always knew exactly how to push your buttons in the best way and this was no exception.

The sight that greeted you beyond the door was like something out of a 70’s porno, wood paneled walls framing crimson velour window trimmings, a matching velvet comforter sprawled across the queen bed. Two poorly painted angels sat perched atop the heart shaped headboard, like prying eyes seeing every depraved act carried out on the altar below. Sure enough, at the far end of the suite was a heart shaped jacuzzi tub, tiled steps leading up and mirrors lining the walls of the corner it was tucked into.

You dropped your bag on top of the mahogany dresser across from the bed, and as you turned on your heel to shut the door behind Eddie, you couldn’t help but burst into a small fit of laughter at the cross hanging above the door frame. The idea that anything happening in this sex den was god-honoring was definitely scoff-worthy.

“What d'ya say we put that thing to use? My back is killing me and I bet those jets would feel killer.” Eddie’s fingertips dug firm indents into the flesh of your hip, a not-so-subtle indication of what his intentions were for the night.

“Whatever you want, daddy.” You winked, taking a step forward until his large hand gripped your forearm.

“What did you just call me?” He questioned, brow quirked in curiosity.

“It’s our wedding night, remember? Don’t you wanna start a family?” Your tone was playful but truthfully something about this place was stirring a feeling so raw inside of you that you weren’t kidding in the slightest.

“If you keep that up you won’t be able to walk in the morning.” Eddie released his grip, slapping your ass as you walked away to turn on the faucet for the tub.

“Won’t need to anyway, I’ll be sitting in your shitty van for 12 more hours.” You knew exactly how to push his buttons, and insulting any of his women (his guitar, his van, and you) was the quickest way to do so.

“That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble.” He half-snapped at you, digging through his duffle bag in an ill-fated attempt to stop himself from watching the way you wiggled your ass while you bent over the side of the tub, watching the waterline rise.

“What are you gonna do, spank me?” You found yourself deliberately arching your back toward to accentuate the curve of your ass, hoping with every fiber of your being he’d stop what he was doing and manhandle you a little.

“Only if you don’t stop with the bratty attitude.” He glanced over at you and immediately dropped the shirt he was pretending to fold back into his bag, finally giving up on his resistance and approaching you from behind, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against your bare thighs. His fingers slipped into the waistband of your pj shorts and underwear, roughly yanking them down to expose your ass.

“Gotta get you outta these if we’re gonna take that bath.” His tone had returned to that lighthearted sarcasm that you loved to hate, and you almost let yourself sink back against him. Instead, you stood upright again, taking the hem of his tattered Iron Maiden shirt in your grip and lifting it up his torso until he pulled it the rest of the way over his head.

Just as he reached to do the same to your tank top, you turned away and reached for the tap again, putting a stop to the stream of running water. He gripped your waist, pulling you back against him before pulling your tank over your head, leaving you fully naked.

“Get in.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver up your spine that had goosebumps rising over your skin. Maybe it was your residual high, or the lovesick atmosphere of your surroundings, but everything felt heightened, your skin more sensitive, his presence behind you more intimidating, his voice more intoxicating.

You ascended the short step and sunk into the bath, the water level rising to not quite cover your chest as you laid back into the left arch of the heart. Eddie watched your every move, eyes glued to your hips to drink in the way your form shifted with every step. He made quick work of removing his jeans, letting the stiff denim pool at his feet as he watched you settle in, your gaze drifting to the waistband of his plaid boxers. He pulled them down at an almost agonizing slow pace, exposing inch after inch of his semi-hard shaft to your waiting eyes until his cock sprung free, the sheer weight of him causing his length to slap against his upper thighs.

You absentmindedly pressed your thighs together, trying to dull the ache between them to no avail. You never truly got used to seeing him fully naked, blushing like a naive virgin every time you had the privilege of seeing him like this. The muscles of his thigh flexed as he took the step up to level with the lip of the tub, towering over you before sinking into the water beside you. He was an Adonis, all toned muscle under a tender layer of plush tissue that made for the perfect sleeping partner, strong and comforting all the same.

“Come here, doll.” He patted his thigh, the water swaying with the movement alongside the low hum of his voice. You rose to your knees, floating to the other side of the tub and straddling his lap, your core sitting dangerously close to his cock. His hands found your hips, calloused fingertips digging into your soft skin with a squeeze before gliding up your sides, his thumbs ghosting over the sides of your breasts almost teasingly while he admired the way water droplets dripped down over your nipples.

“Always so gorgeous.” He groaned, strong hands finally encompassing your breasts, kneading tender flesh as his rough palms gave your stiff peaks the friction they desperately craved.

His touch lit a fire within you, and as much as the way that he looked at you with such admiration made your heart melt, your need was becoming more and more unbearable by the second. You shifted forward, rubbing your folds over the length of his shaft with a hunger, desperate for stimulation.

Before you knew it he had dropped his grip from your chest, threading a hand into your hair to yank your head softly back, drawing a gasp from your throat.

“Did I tell you you could move?” He questioned, cocking his head to the side and raising his eyebrow. He couldn’t help his sarcastic nature, it just came so naturally to him, and knowing that he had such an immense effect on you gave him the ego boost of the century. You shook your head as much as you could given the grip he held on your tresses, and choked out a soft ‘no’ in response before clearing your throat.

“I-I think I deserve some relief after being in the van all day.” You tried to put up a fight, not quite done riling him up, but your tone was quickly losing all conviction and Eddie could see you slipping further into desperation.

“You don’t deserve anything, you’ve been a pampered little passenger princess for 16 hours while I’ve done all of the work to get us here.” He yanked your hair back even further, craning your neck to look up at the baby pink popcorn ceiling. The sting in your scalp brought tears to your eyes, the liquid breaching your waterline leaving dark mascara trails down your cheeks in its wake.

“You’re being awfully bratty, doll, where’d my sweet girl go?” He cooed, free hand cupping your cheek as he loosened his grip ever so slightly to allow you to look at him.

“I’m sorry Eddie, I’m just so sore.” You sniffled, tears still falling from the shame the disappointment in his tone made you feel.

“Don’t cry baby, just need you to listen, okay?” He dropped his grip on your hair, both hands cupping your face, looking lovingly into your glazed eyes. You could feel his cock growing beneath you, the sight of dark makeup running down your tear stained face serving as the perfect aphrodisiac. He adored seeing you all messy like this, his perfect angel looking like a filthy whore, only for his eyes to see.

“Think we can both get some relief tonight if you’re good, can you be good for me?” You frantically nodded your head. “Yes, I promise!” Your enthusiasm made him laugh low in the back of his throat, that goofy smile returning to his face.

“Need you to use your words and tell me what you want, can you do that?” His tone held sickly sweet condescension and you could feel yourself slipping into that mind numbing headspace, wishing he could just slip into your mind for a moment and see all the dirty things you wanted him to do to you.

“Need you inside, please.” Your words came out barely above a whisper and he knew he wouldn’t get too much more out of you before you devolved into a mewling mess, too lost in your own mind to articulate your thoughts, but he couldn’t help but play with you a little longer.

“Inside where, sweetheart? Here?” He mused, bringing his free hand to your mouth, pointer and middle fingers prodding at your parted lips. You quickly took them in, sucking softly on his digits as you shook your head no, oral fixation too strong to pass up the opportunity to have any part of him in your mouth.

“If that’s not what you want then you need to tell me, don’t be greedy.” He pulled his fingers from your lips with a pop, his tone falling an octave. Your eyes widened, nodding in acknowledgment, willing to do anything to please him at this point.

“I-I need you down here, please.” You took his wrist in your shaky hand, guiding him down to dip into the warm water, lifting your hips slightly so his hand could fit in the tight space between your bodies, pressing his fingertips to the tight ring of muscles at your entrance. You stopped, releasing his wrist, not wanting to break any unknown rule and let him take the reins from there. He brought the heel of his palm up to rut firmly against your clit, drawing quiet whimpers as you did your best to stay still.

“What do you want here, doll? My fingers, or something else?” He teased, dipping two of his fingers inside only up to the first knuckle, the slight stimulation almost torturous as he scissored his fingers inside, stretching open the first inch of your cunt.

“God, something else, please.” You sighed, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“What then?” He stopped his movements, withdrawing his hand and you groaned from the lack of friction.

“Your cock, Eddie, please just let me ride you.” You swore you were trying to be good, but you were starting to feel like you’d lose your mind if you didn’t get the stimulation you were in desperate need of and you didn’t care how impatient you sounded.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” He laughed, his hands gripping your hips to guide you up just enough for his cock to stand upright in the water, the tip bumping against your weeping cunt. “Whenever you’re ready, babydoll. You want it so bad, you’re gonna do the work.”

You took his hint, bringing your hand beneath you to grip his member, finally sinking slowly down onto him until you could feel him in your stomach, the all too anticipated stretch making you cry out in relief after his teasing. He groaned, running a hand through his curls as he settled back against the edge of the tub, watching you start to slowly grind your hips, just feeling how full he made you feel.

After a few minutes you lifted your hips once more, starting a steady pace bouncing on his lap, the head of his cock rubbing against the tender patch of nerves deep inside your cunt, velvety walls engulfing him with every movement. The water surrounding you started to roll like waves, splashing against the sides of the tub, threatening to spill out onto the tile surrounding it. You took notice, slowly your movements to lessen the potential mess, and Eddie sighed.

“We’ll clean it up later baby, just let go.” He reassured you, secretly just as desperate as you were to get off. He didn’t care about a little clean up, let alone wiping some water off the floor.

You were hesitant but returned to your previous pace, angling your hips back to really allow his cock to hit the sensitive place inside you, euphoria slowly building in your core. Your gaze slowly shifted from his face and when you caught the sight of yourself in the mirrors surrounding the tub you gasped, the lewd image of your makeup stained face and your tits bouncing with every movement of your hips was something almost pornographic, really living up to the atmosphere of the room.

Eddie caught where your eyes had shifted to and groaned, throwing his head back to properly watch you get off to your own reflection.

“Look at yourself, bouncing on my cock like a desperate whore, making such a mess.” His hand came down to press against your lower stomach, his thumb rubbing quick circles over your clit until you were a moaning mess, your thighs burning with the almost brutal pace you were now maintaining.

“Want you to make me a daddy.” He moaned, his breaths becoming more labored. His statement broke you from your trance, your gaze falling back to his as you searched his eyes for any hint of sarcasm, but you found none, he wasn’t kidding.

“Can I knock you up, babydoll?” He reiterated the sentiment, increasing the pressure on your clit and feeling you pulse around him, your orgasm dangerously close.

“I need an answer before you or I can cum sweetheart.” He was panting, straining to prevent himself from finishing, and you did everything you could to pull yourself together enough to answer.

“Yes, Eddie, please!” You maimed, tears threatening your waterline from how close you were to the edge.

“Say it.” He groaned, locking eyes with you one last time.

“Please cum inside me daddy, please!” You cried out, tipping over the edge with one last slam of your hips, pleasure rolling over you in tandem with the waves of the water around you, your walls contracting over and over around him until his warmth spread throughout your cunt. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly against you until the aftershocks stopped wracking your body, relaxing on his lap.

“You okay angel?” His voice was strained but sweet as ever, always concerned about your wellbeing above anything else.

“Yeah.” You mumbled, smiling silently against his neck.

Once you were fully recovered, you raised off of him, both of you wincing at the loss momentarily before sinking under the now lukewarm water for one final rinse. You began to step out, Eddie right behind you to grab your waist when your foot almost slipped out from under you because of the slick tile.

“Careful babydoll, don’t want you to slip.” He held you firm as you stepped down, making sure you were safe on the ground level before following you out, handing you one of the fresh towels from the pile next to the tub. He wiped up the excess water off the ground as you dried yourself off, and you didn’t know if it was the cold air or the rational part of your brain turning back on, but something started to eat at you as you watched your boyfriend dry himself off.

“Is it okay that I called you that?” The worry in your voice almost made Eddie’s heart break into a million pieces, and he quickly wrapped the towel around his hips before taking you into his arms.

“I loved it, babydoll, I promise I would tell you if I didn’t.” He smoothed your hair away from your face, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“How about we put on our pajamas and turn on a movie.” He smiled down at you, waiting for your approving nod before going to your bags on the dresser and pulling out your second pair of pj’s. He helped you into them before pulling on his own old band shirt and fresh boxers and crawling into the gaudy bed with you, cuddling up to watch whatever cheesy horror flick was airing on late night tv.

——

tags: @xxbimbobunnyxx @your-nightmaredoll

also tagging: @babygorewhore @taintandviolent @littlexdeaths @eddiesxangel @bimbotrashcan bc i thought you might be interested, please message me if you’d like me to remove you

please message me or send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged in future eddie fics!!

[askinkiskarma]

➸ ʀɪᴅɪɴɢ ʟɪᴇᴜᴛᴇɴᴀɴᴛ!ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛᴀʀɢᴇᴛ ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ

pairings: simon "ghost" riley x female!reader

a/n: i wrote this for the "praise/degradation" kinktober prompt and it could fit both jake sully and ghost so i decided to publish it for ghost. is it self-plagiarism to just copy paste it and post it for dilf!jake, too? asking for a friend

warnings: pwp under the cut (18+ mdni), pet names (doll, love, princess, kid), implied age gap, slight degradation, some praise, semi-public i guess??

wc: >400 words

ghost masterlist (x)

“Feels… so… good… fuck!”

Bouncing on your lieutenant's cock in a hidden bush after excusing yourself from target practice was not on your list of things to do today, but then again… it never was. But you just couldn’t help it, not when there he was, so fucking hot, giving orders, showing trainees how to shoot all the different guns in the army's arsenal, not when your underwear was uncomfortably sliding against your swollen folds, dripping in slick. The people will be fine practising on their own for a while, right? After all, the target was right there, all they had to do is… aim at it… right? 

“Fucking hell, kid…” Ghost's voice was gravelly and low, the thick accent mixing beautifully with the gritty groans that escaped him as you twitched around his length with every thrust that threatened to bruise your already aching cervix. It was maddening, the pace he set, the way he couldn’t help but buck his hips upwards to be even deeper in your tight, soaked pussy, the need to be closer, to feel you, to fill you, ever present and ever growing.

“You look so good taking my cock. So good.” 

The best you can do in response is a faint moan, so focused on maintaining the pace he set, thoughts overflowing with how good he felt, how much it all was, how when he pulled the mask slightly upwards and captured your nipple in his mouth, sucking while circling your sensitive clit with his thumb, it all made tears prick at your eyes painfully and free flow down your face as the orgasm drew closer and closer with each passing moment. 

“Couldn’t even wait 'til the end of practice, could you? My desperate, needy slut. Always have to have all your little holes stuffed, eh?” 

HIs words always had such power to bring you to your knees, or to your orgasm, the feeling overtaking all of your senses, white noise all you were able to see and hear as he continued abusing your convulsing cunt. 

“Squeezing me so well, gonna make me cum all over this pretty pussy. But I’m not done yet, love.” 

It took no effort on his part to pull you off him and manhandle you in a new position, barely managing to hold your own weight on all fours, so spent and overwhelmed from the onslaught of sensations he was so good at eliciting in you and for you. 

“Come on, doll. Face down, ass up. Gotta make sure to fill you up until everyone on that field knows how much you like being fucked until you’re dripping from all sides.”

[sturnsreckless]

𝐂𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐕𝐎𝐃𝐊𝐀,, c.sturniolo

summary: while at one of chris’ frat parties, he takes a shot of vodka and a line of cocaine off of your body as he is head-to-head with his frat friend at who can do it quicker off their girlfriends

warnings: cocaine, drug use, alcohol

a/n: this is ass but i really want to post more

chris walks over to you, a cola and vodka in one hand, a small plastic bag in the other.

“hey baby, i gotta ask you a quick favour and you can’t say no” chris says as his one of his frat bros stands next to him, watching you and chris.

“what’s up?” you ask, quirking your eyebrow slightly, a little scared for what he’s going to ask you to do. you can feel his friend staring at you, making you feel slightly uncomfortable.

he smiles, knowing you aren’t going to like this answer one bit, “i need you to do a challenge with me” chris answers. his friend pulling out his phone to time chris and you can tell it’s going to be something really stupid.

you dart your tongue out to swipe over your glossy lips, “what’s the challenge though, chris?” you question.

“take a line of coke and a body shot off you.” chris says, his arm wrapping around your waist pulling you closer before before friend interrupts.

“and the loser has to give the other $100” he chuckles. chris’ grip tightens on your hip.

“seriously? so you’re taking coke and a body shot off my body?” you ask, looking between the two boys who are looking at you.

chris’ friend nods and chuckles, “yep. you got a problem with that?” he laughs, looking you up and down. chris’ eyes narrow slightly at his friends comment.

you were taken aback by his reply slightly, “um, no i don’t. just an odd request. but what do i get out of it?” you ask, licking your lips again before taking a sip of the vodka coke in your red solo cup.

chris smirks, knowing you’re always looking for something to be in it for you.

“fine, uh…” he thinks for a moment. he suddenly lights up, having an idea at what he could give you for a prize, “if i win, you won’t complain for a week about my habits. drugs, gambling, parties, everything.”

you mentally groan at this, “and if you lose, chris?” you wonder.

chris looks at you, narrowing his eyes slightly before glancing back at his friend, “if i lose” he says looking back to you, “i’ll take you out on a romantic date, wherever you want to go.” he laughs slightly, waiting for you to agree.

that sounded really nice since you and chris rarely went on dates, so you gave in, “fine. i’ll do it”

chris grins and walks you to the sofa and you sit down on the soft sofa. his friend pulls out his phone to time chris, as chris lifts your skirt a little higher to place the coke on your upper thigh.

“stop moving, sweetheart” chris says as he puts his cold hand on your inner thigh to stop you from moving about as he tries to set out a line on your skin.

he then picks up the clear shot glass, pouring vodka into it and placing it in your shirt, between your tits.

chris stands up and takes a step back to admire his work, his eyes slowly trailing your body before smirking, “perfect, hold still” he says, looking over at his frat friend with a cocky look on his face to make sure he’s timing him.

“okay, get on with it” you sass, wanting to get back to your friends and finish partying.

chris looks back at you with a smirk on his face, “someone’s impatient” he chuckles slightly, watching as his gets closer to you two. chris lowers his head and slowly brings it down to your thigh, placing one hand on your hip and the other on the side of your thigh.

he plugs one side of his nose as he snorts the white powder off your leg.

once he takes a deep breath, feeling the drug flow through his body. he leans up to your chest and moves your top down slightly, enough to give him space to wrap his lips around the plastic glass.

chris slowly brings his lips to the shot glass and wraps his lips around it, once he has enough grip on it he tilts his head back, letting the liquid fall down his throat.

once the glass is empty he lets the glass fall from his mouth, he looks down to you and notices some of the vodka spilled down your stomach, causing him to bite his lip.

he smirks at you, leaning forward and placing a kiss to your lips before turning back to his friend behind him “i done that in under 15 seconds” he says.

chris’ friend checks his phone and nods, “13 seconds, you won” he says, putting his phone back in his pocket, before grabbing his wallet.

“how long did it take you to do it off your girl?” chris asks, referring back to ten minutes ago when his friend took a line and a shot of his girlfriend the exact same way he did off you, “17 seconds” his friend replies, handing his a $100 dollar bill.

“im going to go get a drink” you say standing up getting ready to leave chris and his friend alone.

chris grabs onto your hip, spinning you around before you walk away and pulling you into a kiss.

you let your hand lean over his shoulder as you deepen the kiss. chris brings his hand up with the $100 bill in it and reaches down into your bra and stuffs the bill in there before disconnecting your lips, “that’s for you to buy drinks, love” he says, patting your ass before leaving one more kiss to your lips, “i love you” he whispers in your ear, grinning.

“i love you too” you smirk at him before walking over to your group of friends.

@sturnsreckless

[bigwishes]

Matching the Inside

"did I ask about side effects?" "no, but I still think you should hear me out"

Aden sat down to get on Nick's level.

"Listen here lil guy, you are the geeky smart guy, I'm the big guy, I asked you to whip me up something to make me the biggest guy and you said you could, now could you or are you fucking stupid and small?"

"Aden I understand but I still think you want to hear about th-"

"DONT CARE! JUST HAND IT OVER"

Nick sighed and handed over the small vial of green fluid over to Aden.

"Is this all?" Aden grunted.

Aden quickly downed the entire vial and flexed his muscles

"So when does this shit make me bigger?"

"s-soon Aden, just gotta wait a few ho-"

"WOULD YOU JUST FUCK OFF PIPSQUEAK!, if this shit fails I swear to god I'll be the fuck outta you then get my cash back"

Nick quickly left Aden to his own devices, he wasn't the best guy to get along with at the best of times and he didn't want to see how toxic Aden was going to become after an hour or so, but it was on him for not wanting to listen to the warnings...

-----

An hour of hard work had gone by and Aden had barely felt anything, sure he had a nasty pump and his skin felt like it was stretching by the second but nothing more than an unusually good day at the gym, however he did find one thing strange.

Aden was no stranger to sweat, but not normally this much, he was used to seeing his ass imprint when he stood up from the bench but not feeling it running down his body, not feeling it squelch in his shoes as he walked.

One of the gym attendants even asked him to please change his shoes as it was leaving huge sweaty imprints as he walked.

Aden sat down on a bench to catch his breath when he smelt something unbearable, it had to be a gym towel that had fallen behind a piece of equipment and left to reek for god knows how long. As Aden looked around for the source he couldn't find anything but when he lifted his arm he was hit by a wave of warm air that made him turn his nose up

the potent order was coming from him, and boy did he fucking reek.

Aden almost gagged on the stench of his own pits and stood up to grab his stuff to head home.

As he stood up his stomach let out a loud gurgling noise. It set in again, this time stronger and painful. Aden grabbed his stomach with both his hands and moaned and his gut continued to complain.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPP

Aden let out a loud belch that rung out through the entire gym.

"wow, eat too much before the gym big guy haha"

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP

Aden couldn't control it, before he could even respond he had let rip and belched in the guys face.

Multiple people started to call him a gross pig, and he was in too much discomfort to argue, he could barely get a word in before he burped or belched like a stupid brute.

On his way out he stopped at the mirror, his shoulders looked wider, his biceps fuller, his pecs were stretching out his tank like it was nothing, he couldn't help but admire himself, but the admiration quickly faded when his body automatically cocked open his jaw and forcefully rumbled out another masculine belch.

---

Aden had raced home, doing his best to deal with the horrible stench flowing from his body he imminently got in the shower, scrubbing himself for over and hour until there was no trace of BO left on him,

getting out of the shower he constantly sniffed his pits to make sure he smelt clean and fresh, the stench had seemed to vanish and the odd bloating all but gone, now it was time to see if the formula did anything or if he was going to crush Nick's spine with his own hands.

Aden slipped on his favourite pair of underwear and stood in front of his mirror, to his surprise he did actually look bigger, although barely, he had maybe gained a pound or two of muscle, but something looked wrong....

As Aden glanced down his incredible body he noticed his underwear was much flatter than usual, he tried to adjust himself but it felt like there was barely anything to adjust. As he pulled back the waist band he was horrified to see that his incredibly 10inch manhood and shrunken down into a pitiful 3 inches

"w-WHAT THE FUCK" Aden began to panic, his heart racing

Beads of sweat started to form on his forehead and run down his face. As Aden paced around his room he didnt notice all the sweat forming all over his body, that was until the smell set in, when he finally saw himself in the mirror again he was slick from head to toe, droplets of sweat running down him and he stuck, a stench like he had just spent a month working out non stop.

His gut began to grumble once more as the pain set it, this time more intense, like his stomach was being inflated from the inside. Aden moaned and gritted his teeth in pain.

"w..w...what is...happening..tOO MEEE AAGGGHHHUUUUUUU"

Aden watched as his abs turned red and began to expand outwards.

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPP

Aden couldn't help but belch, but it granted him no relief, he watched helplessly as his reflection expanded and grew, sweat dripping off him flooding his floor with a pool of musk and belches escaping him every time he opened his mouth to moan or complain.

-----

A week had gone by since Aden's strange and powerful growth but a lot had changed since then.

In a week he had been banned from almost every gym in town, banned from every restaurant, his car seats had changed colour from the sweat along with every piece of fabric or furniture he owned, on top of which most had broken in some way shape or form.

He couldn't even go to any out door cafe's as he was asked to leave because his terrible BO and constant belches upset the other customers.

Aden had all but ruined his life for muscle and size, still he couldnt help but feel mostly joy when he looked in the mirror, the way his shoulders and traps swallowed his neck, how he couldn't see past his pecs. How only after a week his powerful muscled feet would tear through his shoes. He loved being huge, but he didn't love the side effects.

The belching and stench he had gotten used to but the biggest shock to his system was the hardon he got for guys now, he used to be such a ladies man but now he felt nothing towards women and almost instantly came whenever he saw another bodybuilder flex, but even that he was willing to embrace so long as he could stay this big.

Aden stood in front of his mirror and watched as grey tank slowly turn black as it soaked up his sweat. He picked up a blender from the belch filled with his freshly made shake, he began to guzzle it down like he hadn't eaten in days, the shake spilled out from the sides of his lips, dripped through his beard and onto his tank were it quickly formed prominent stains and marks.

Aden dropped the blender panting for air.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPP

His eyes glazed over as he looked at the sweating monster in the mirror. He couldn't help but notice the freak he had become,

grown too big, stretch marks all over his body, sweat and protein staining his clothes, BO so bad he could see it, and one hand pressed on his abs trying to force out another belch.

He finally matched what was on the inside

A total fuckin slob

[joyful-writings]

❀ use your voice

park sunghoon x fem!reader

word count: 369 synopsis: your quiet boyfriend loves your voice, and he wants to hear all your little noises as he fucks you (pwp... who's surprised y'all) warnings: SMUT (🔞MINORS DNI🔞), good ole p-in-v sex (protection isn't mentioned, but you should most definitely use protection at all times), hard sex but it isn't rough, allusions to overstimulation, crying but they aren't sad tears, sunghoon calls the reader "good girl" "sweetheart" and "baby", sunghoon wants you to beg for him :( a/n: i'm not dead!!! except i kinda am!!!

You were generally quiet. One to speak when spoken to during social events; never caught initiating conversations with strangers.

Of course, there were some exceptions. Particular prompts turned your mouth into a motor— TV shows, music, books, and other miscellaneous interests.

Your boyfriend also knew how to rev you up. He was one of your closest confidants, after all. And, although he wasn't much of a talker either, he knew which buttons to push to elicit detailed responses.

"Tell me all about your day today."

"Hey, did you catch up on that show?"

"I listened to that album you told me about..."

Even if it wasn't a common interest, he loved hearing you go on and on and on. Listening to your dramatic gasps, disappointed sighs, and excited giggles made him happy.

Timid questions.

Breathy moans.

Pitiful whines.

Thoughtless pleas.

Every sound of yours was a beautiful melody to him...

"Sunghoon!" You gripped his shoulders, trying not to dig your nails into his skin.

Your boyfriend didn't respond, soaking in your noises— squeaks, squeals, hiccups. His hips just slammed into yours faster, harsher. Your cunt could only suck him in deeper.

"Oh my god! P-Please-!"

Sunghoon finally replied, "Please what, sweetheart? Tell me."

"Feels so good-!" You cut yourself off, panting heavily while you felt yourself clenching. You were so close anything would set you off.

"Beg some more, baby. Beg me."

"Can't, Hoonie! Gotta cum!"

Your boyfriend maintained his speed, bringing a hand down so his fingers could pinch and play with your clit. You swore you couldn't see anything— only white —but maybe your eyes were closed too tight.

Loud, broken moans and high-pitched whines released from your throat, ringing in the air until Sunghoon chose to swallow them.

"Such a good girl," Sunghoon cooed when he pulled away, sweeping stray hairs from your face. "But you didn't beg, sweetheart. We'll have to go again."

Tears spilled at the thought. Of course, you weren't truly opposed to the act. You knew the overstimulation would be wonderful torture.

Your boyfriend wiped your crocodile tears, smothering your face with tender kisses. His next words were lightly laced with threats, almost defying his skinship:

"Don't forget to use your voice.”

a/n: hi. i know, i know... i share these plans and ideas and whatever with you all, and then i never do anything. terrible, terrible. but i am so awfully lethargic when i'm not working that it isn't funny (it's hilarious). it's been almost seven months, and i'm still figuring out my work/life balance. that being said, i have one day a month where i'm totally home alone. on that singular day, as long as i have no other plans, i will try to write. i still have ideas and things going on in my head, and i've been expressing them (via c.ai, but still... it gets the creative juices flowing). there's this big story i've been working on for a few months now. i'm trying to make sure it's perfect for y'all. i will not disappoint.

for now, though, enjoy this smaller story 💜 and happy kinktober and all that lol

[oleander-nin]

Hi can I please yandere Leo from Rise who’s practicing his odachi portal skills only to see portal himself to his number one fan from another universe who enjoys watching Rottmnt

But what if Leo starts getting jealous when reader starts watching other tmnt shows from 2012 to 2003 versions and he caughts reader fawning over them👀

I’m fine with romantic or platonic or mix between both (gotta love slow burns ~)

If you wanna go dark you can do , I’m a big fan of your work (if you ever write a book make sure to tell us I love to buy it )

hope your doing ok ^-^

Number One(Yandere ROTTMNT Leo x Reader)

A/N, not important: Hi! Sorry for the wait, this one really stumped me(I struggled getting the transitions right and making it seem feasible.) It was kinda hard to make this one Yan, but I hope I delivered. I tried to make it clear this is an older Leo, but don't know how well I achieved that. In any case, this is set a couple years after the movie. Also uh, I wrote this in third person. Sorry. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Kidnapping, yandere themes

Words: 1767

Summary: If you're going to claim you're his number one fan, you should actually be his number one fan.

Leo was so confident in this portal. The ninpō felt like it was flowing through his veins, an energy that was part of him instead of one he was just borrowing. He was so confident in this portal that he didn’t even hesitate before falling through, fully expecting his brothers to be on the other side. He was so confident in this portal that he didn’t even notice the color of his portal wasn’t it’s normal blue, or the weird zapping pulling at his skin as he crossed through. He was so confident in this portal that he didn’t even realize his mistake until he heard the scream.

A room he didn’t recognize surrounded him, somewhere that was very much not Hueso’s restaurant. The couch and the setup took him back, the carpet under his feet making him itch slightly. He stands frozen, his eyes locked with someone of similar age across from him, their eyes wide and mouth agape. He briefly registered the TV playing in the background, some brightly colored cartoon. It seemed like something he and his brothers would enjoy. Leo falters, something he wasn’t sure he’d ever truly done. Something he hated to admit happened. The face of the human, scared and stiff, made him worried. He briefly tries to summon his ninpō, taking a reflexive step back as he feels the power course through him then die back out.

“Leo?” The stranger stammers out, causing Leo to double take. This person who he was certain he’d never seen before(although, admittedly, he didn’t always remember a face) knew his name. A human that wasn’t April knew his name. Leo tries to call upon his ninpō in an attempt to leave again, only to be met with nothing.

Leo lifts his swords, pointing it in their general direction. He didn’t think they were much of a threat, their body pressed against the wall of the room like a force was keeping them there. He briefly noticed their lack of true fear, their face more shocked than scared. He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“How do you know my name?” Leo demands, his voice loud and more upset-sounding than he intended. He didn’t want to seem bothered, especially in front of an unknown entity. Were they with the foot? Big Mama?

They wordlessly point towards their television, his gaze reluctantly tearing from them towards the show they had playing. He keeps his stance defensive and his swords pointed at them as he truly takes what’s on the screen into account. It was him and his brothers, taped together in that big ball Raph insisted would make them bond. He watches for a moment, mesmerized. He remembers that day, the video playing lining up perfectly with what happened in his head. It scared him, almost. He turns back to the stranger, puffing up slightly to look bigger and more confident.

“Where did you get the video?” He demands. The way it was filmed made it seem like there were cameras everywhere. He knew Donnie recorded everything, but would he really go so far as to spread around the footage? To take multiple angle shots and film each brother individually? Leo didn’t want to believe it, but he really wouldn’t put it past the softshell.

“Netflix?” They say weakly, their head shrinking back between their shoulders. Leo considers this, frowning. He doesn’t lower his weapons in any capacity, but he doesn’t keep as close an eye on them. He watches the screen for a bit, taking in the bright colors of his home and his brothers faces, watching their adventures of the past. It was jarring to see the things they’ve done from the outside, their faces so much younger looking than he remembered.

He looks back at the stranger, taking a deep breath. Maybe they were lying, yes, but this was all he had to go off. Maybe he could get home soon, and let Donnie work his brain around this. There was no reason for Leo to worry. “Where am I?”

The stranger blubbers out something quickly, an address he’s saving in the back of his mind for later. Leo looks around the room more thoroughly, quietly scanning for the telltale signs of cameras or audio devices. If this was some experiment, he did not want to be part of it.

“So,” Leo starts, gesturing at them with the sword. “If I were to believe you, which I don’t, why are you even watching this? Doesn’t it bug you that you’re basically spying on me?”

The stranger huffs slightly. Their back was still pressed against the wall in caution of his sharp katana, but their demeanor had definitely relaxed. “It’s a kids show, man. I watch it to relax. Like how you watch Lou Jitsu stuff.”

Leo stares at them, not liking at all how they’re equating something in his life they shouldn’t even know about to what they’re doing, but he understands the example. He lowers his swords slightly, a bit less apprehensive. Depending on how long it would take to get himself home, he probably shouldn’t threaten the person who’s home he fell in in case he needs to stay.

“How’d you even get here?” They ask, causing Leo to realize he wasn’t even sure how to answer. He had no idea how he ended up here, no explanation other than ‘ancient magic goes haywire once more’.

To save face, Leo just shrugs. He didn’t see a point in explaining, especially because he wasn’t sure how much they actually knew at this point. If they were bad(which he was doubting more and more by the second), he really didn’t want to explain his portals in any sense to them. “Just happened.”

They stare at him for a moment before dropping it, pursing their lips. A long silence follows with their gaze fleeing to everywhere but Leo. He could tell they were trying hard not to stare despite him not returning the same courtesy.

“Do you want something to drink?” They finally ask, the silence broken once more. Leo mulls it over, sheathing his swords. Might as well get comfortable until he figured out how to get back to his world, or his brothers found him.

“What do you have?”

The stranger leads him into the kitchen, their nervous ramblings about the mess in their apartment(he’s seen worse), the lack of options(he’s had less), and the odd way they met(He’s experienced weirder) made him feel much more at ease. By the time he’s seated across from them at their small table with a glass of orange juice in his hand, he’s learned a lot about them. Or, he could at least infer most about their life. Enough to make the bridge between their knowledge of him seem a bit more fair.

“So,” Leo prompts, tapping at the edge of the glass in his hand. Their head pops up at his voice, attention fully on him. It made him feel important, like he was someone admired. I mean, he was, it just wasn’t very often anyone but Casey Jr. did. “What exactly is the show I’m from here?”

Their eyes light up at the question, looking like a small kid who was finally given the chance to show off what they knew. They go into an enthusiastic rhapsody about everything they knew, from the producers, to the start of the show, to the end. They talked endless praise of him and his brothers, seeming to fit in a compliment in every sentence. They even let slip that he was their favorite, the one they watched the most. Leo preens at that, his plastron puffing out in pride. He was their favorite. He had an adoring fan. Maybe this world wasn’t so bad. He lets them continue to ramble on with their take of his word, paying attention whenever they mention his or his brothers skills. While it was still worrisome that this no-longer-complete-stranger knew so much about him and his family, he couldn’t help but feel a bit flattered. He wasn’t sure if it was his ego talking or just the opportunity to finally speak with another human, but he wasn’t so sure he wanted to leave as fast anymore. This was nice. Normal even, or as normal as he can get. He was treated like a celebrity, like someone important. If he could, he’d get drunk off this feeling.

His attention perks up again when his new companion starts to mention others. Personalities that were not matching up with his brothers. Leo purses his lips, pausing them mid-rave about a ‘TMNT 2012’.

“Back up, what do you mean there’s more?” Leo asks, furrowing the edges of his mask as the muscles of his eyebrows crease together.

They laugh nervously, mumbling apologies for, “getting ahead of myself.” Leo waves it off, still waiting for them to expand on what they were saying. Instead of speaking, they turn to their phone and type something in, showing their screen to him a moment later. Four turtle faces stared back at him, each with the same color-coded masks as he and his brothers, but looking incredibly different. Leo crinkles his face, unhappy. “And these are?” 

“You! And your brothers. From a different reality. Or dimension. I’m not all that sure,” They chirp, starting to go into another ramble. Leo hides his grimace, not liking how enthusiastic you were about the similar but very much not the same group of mutant turtles. Their eyes lit up just as much when talking about this Leo, causing his earlier pride to muddle into a hot jealousy. Leo could feel his ninpō spark up under his skin once more, whatever stump he was in being over. Leo’s eyes light up slightly, a smile coming more easily to his face.

“Hey,” He says, interrupting their rambles. Their eyes darted to his again instead of looking all around like they did when they were talking. It was nice to have the attention back, attention he wasn’t so sure he was ready to give up so easily. “Want to come back to my world?”

The way their eyes lit up made Leo know this would be easy, his skin snapping with the familiar buzz of his magic, stronger and more familiar than ever before. He takes their hand and leads them closer, falling backwards into a portal he knew was heading back home.

They didn’t have to know they weren’t coming back. After all, he was their favorite. They’d learn to forgive him, he was sure of it.

Tag list: @f1oricide @itsyagurlchip @lordfreg @acutiewithagun @rottmnttmnt2012 @lixnininotnay @lexiechr @ssak-i @rottmntsimp

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: sleepy af

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“You need a box, doll?” Bucky flutters his fingers toward your plate, “you don’t gotta finish all that.” 

You look down at the untouched half of your sandwich. You’d barely poked at the pesto salad on the side either. You can’t help it; your stomach is swirling like a storm. Aside from that, you’re so self-aware that you make certain each bite is tidy and small.  

You bring the napkin to your lips before you answer, “oh, sure, I guess. Um, thank you.” 

“You have a big breakfast?” He wonders as he lifts his glass, squinting at its emptiness. 

“I...” you sniff. You didn’t eat at all. “I’m too nervous.” 

You cringe as your honestly flows free. You don’t know why you said that. Maybe it’s the similarly empty glass in front of you. He smiles, his dimples showing handsomely on his bearded cheeks. 

“You don’t gotta be,” he sets the glass down, his forearm across the table. “Is it me? I make you nervous.” 

You look away and cup your chin. You purse your lips and inhale slowly. You dare to face him again. You nod into your hand. 

“What about me makes you nervous?” He wonders, his eyes sparkling. It has to be obvious. So obvious that he must be teasing you. 

“You know,” you murmur. 

“Genuinely curious,” he clears his expression and sits back, “we’re having a good time. Good chat. So... you’re nervous, why?” 

“Because you’re...” your brows squiggle, “you. I’m just me.” 

“And what’s so bad about being just you?” 

You scoff, “I think... maybe you made a mistake. I’m not... anything.” 

“What does that mean?” He prompts. 

Before you can answer, Hailee appears. The slim server offers you a refill. Bucky waits for you to answer first. You decline and he puts his hand over his own glass. 

“We’ll take the cheque,” he says and she flits off to do his bidding. He returns his attention to you before you can shrink further, “well... what do you mean?” 

Your eye drift evasively. He just latches on and doesn’t let go. It’s overwhelming. You watch Hailee as she taps the tablet on the bar top across the roof. You glance at Bucky again. 

“I’m not tall or thin or a supermodel,” you say quietly. He leans in as he tilts his head thoughtfully. 

“If I wanted that, that’s who would be sitting here with me. I don’t mind that you’re a little small. It’s... I like it, actually. And a supermodel? Doll, those types got nothing on you.” 

You touch your cheeks then drag your hands away, “thanks, but...” 

“But?” He echoes. 

“Nothing. Nothing,” you assure him meekly, “I just... I’m not sure about all this.”  

Hailee once more returns. She hands Bucky the bill and he doesn’t even look at it as he slides his wallet out of his pocket. He hands her his card and the slip of paper. Once more, she’s off. 

“Not sure?” He says. 

“Sorry, I just...” once more you look at the server as she swipes his card. When you look back, Bucky’s watching you intently, “please keep your money. You paid for lunch, that’s enough.” 

“But doll--” 

“Please, I don’t feel right taking it,” you put your palms out and drop your hands, “thank you for lunch but I’m not cut out for this.” 

“Hm,” he clicks his tongue and leans his chin on his knuckles, “don’t decide right now. I get it. It’s a lot at once. So think about it and get back to me.” 

“I... I’m telling you,” you wilt, “I don’t think... I’m not what you think I am.” 

“I have no idea what you are, doll,” he extends his fingers under his chin, “but I like what I see and I want more.” 

You shakily bring your hand to your neck. He can’t mean it. He can’t want you. No way. If you say yes, how long does that last? You didn’t come here for lunch or an ‘arrangement’. You need a job. You need something sustainable. 

Besides, you never thought you’d ever consider being a prostitute. That’s what he’s suggesting, isn’t it? You’re pathetic but you have some standards. 

You sigh. You said no once, maybe more, maybe not firmly enough, but he’s not hearing you. So you will ‘think about it’ and repeat yourself later. 

“Alright,” you agree as you lean back and pull your hands into your lap. 

“All I’m asking for is a chance,” he says. Your heart pulses tightly. He’s asking you? “Let’s get your leftovers packed up and I'll take you home.” 

“Oh, uh, I can get a cab--” 

“Nah,” he waves you off, “I’m here. Merv’s gotta get me back to the casino as it is.” 

🃏

“You’ll call me, won’t you, doll?” Bucky asks as Merv stops outside the curb of your mother’s house. 

You peek up through the tinted window and back at the man beside you. He shamelessly has his arm stretched over the seat above your shoulders, the scent of his cologne invading your nostrils. You nod dumbly before you process his words. 

“Yeah, I will,” you assure him as you undo your seat belt and untangle your purse from the strap. 

“Don’t leave me hanging,” he pulls his arm away and brushes your shoulder then down your sleeve. 

“I won’t, like I said... I’ll think about it,” you reach for the handle and he hums. 

“I had a good time. I like talking to you, doll.” 

You stop yourself from fleeing like you so desperately want to do. You turn back to him. You’re struck by him, not for the first time. Someone like him noticed you and did all this. It feels like you’re drowning. You can barely think straight. 

 “Me too. It was really nice,” you breathe. 

He stares at your, almost expectantly, and his lips curve slightly. Are you forgetting something? Heat speckles over your cheeks. Is he leaning in? 

“Hey, don’t forget your leftovers,” he sits back and reaches to the other side of the seat, picking up the box. 

“Oh, thanks,” you take it, your fingers touching his. 

“Don’t let me keep you, ‘cause I will,” he winks, “I’m sure you got someone waiting for you.” 

“Uh, yeah, my mom won’t be home yet but...” you suppress your irrelevant thoughts. You’ll give the sandwich and salad and to Roxie. She never complains for free food. “Yeah, er, thanks.” 

He chuckles and claps his hand down on your leg, “too sweet, doll. It’s my pleasure and there’s a lot more where that came from.” He squeezes and removes his hand, “just making a last-ditch case for myself.” He inhales and his shoulders rise and he fixes his collar, “have a good one, alright? Take it easy, think...” 

“I will,” you affirm once more, “er, bye.” 

You open the door and barely keep from tripping onto the curb. You peer back one last time and attempt a smile, trying to hide the sinking pit in your chest. You don’t need to think about it. You simply cannot give him what he wants. 

You shut the door and back up. You stand cluelessly and wait. When the car doesn’t move, you spin and scurry away. God, how much more awkward can you get? 

You resist the urge to look back as you let yourself in through the front door. The TV babbles from the next room as you twist the lock. Roxie lazes across the couch as the fan oscillates over her. The summer heat has the space stuffy and sticky. The rented house doesn’t have central air and the portable AC crapped out last year. 

“Hey,” you come up to the back of the couch, your anxiety still buzzing behind your ears. You feel different and you feel like she’ll sense it in an instant. You almost want her to say something. 

She doesn’t look away from the screen as she grumbles back at you. 

“Um, mom’s not home yet, right?” 

“Don’t think so,” she yawns, her arm draped above her head against the arm rest. “It’s like three. You sleep all day?” 

You frown. She usually sleeps later, granted, she works until sunlight most nights. 

“No, I had an interview.” 

“Huh, Wendy’s?” She asks. It’s probably an innocent question and a fair assumption, but it still cuts like an insult. 

“No, uh, whatever, I don’t think I got it.” 

“Too bad,” she says. 

You leave her. She’s too enraptured with her reality TV binge. You suppose if you were just waiting to start working, you might just want to shut off too. That’s exactly what you want in that moment. To stop thinking about everything. 

It’s not just Bucky and his offer or whatever you should call it. It’s about your mom and Roxie and being the resident disappointment. You don’t like being dead weight but it seems like it’s all you’ll ever be. There’s more than just yourself to think about in this and yet you just can’t see yourself saying yes. 

You don’t really know what you’re saying yes to. What is it exactly that Bucky wants from you? Sunny lunches and conversations about disco music? You don’t think that’s it but you’re too afraid to think about the implication behind his proposition. 

So you won’t. You won’t-- you can’t accept it. You can’t bring yourself to do... that for money. If you did and your mother ever knew the truth, you shudder to think. No, you can tell an easier lie. 

Sorry, mom, didn’t pan out. Again. But I’ve been applying all around. I’ll get something. 

🃏

The first text Bucky sends, you respond to. It’s the same day as your interview. No, that’s not what it was. He sends a good night and you echo the sentiment. It’s easier to pretend behind a screen. 

You don’t sleep well despite his tidings. You toss and turn and don’t drag yourself out of bed until noon. Your mom’s already at work and you can’t stand to face her. Not since you told her it was another dead end. Roxie’s snoring in her room. 

You go out on the back steps and sit in the sun. It’s all muddled. You know you shouldn’t. You won’t. That’s not you. And even if you could find the courage to say yes, you’re just not that girl. You aren’t the one to be flaunted on a rich guy’s arm. Or the kind to go for manicures and to wear layers of contour. And that’s what he’ll want, even if he says now, it isn’t. Men just want pretty things and you’re not. 

The days pass in a similar idle daze. Every night, he texts. A little back and forth but you say you’re tired and check out after his usual, ‘sweet dreams, doll.’ Two days, three days, four, five, six. A whole week and you know that you have to say it. No. It’s almost as hard as a yes would be. 

When the ‘good morning’ pops up in your notifications, you’re frozen. You can’t even fake it. You can’t hit the automated reply generated by the app. You just lock your phone and put it in your nightstand drawer. You’re a coward, just like you’ve always been. 

You scroll through the job boards. You’ve been spending most of your waking hours trawling them. The postings don’t come as quickly as you apply. Some, you’re sure, you’ve submitted your resume to at least twice. Well, that shows dedication, right? 

You hear your mom come home just after five. You finally sit up from your chronic hunch and groan at the pang between your shoulders. Ugh, that’s not good. You get up and come out as your mother sighs and drops her purse on the table. 

“Hey, I took some drumsticks out,” you say, “I’m gonna do the buffalo sauce.” 

“Oh, hon, that’s amazing, I’m so tired,” she drops into a chair and props a foot on her knee, rubbing her arch, “I need new insoles.” 

You watch her guiltily, chewing your lip. Even if you’re not going to say yes, you almost wish you’d taken that thousand dollars. She wouldn’t have to do overtime so much. You cross your arms. 

“What do you want with it? We got some of the crinkle fries or--” 

The doorbells chimes and you hesitate. It isn’t often it rings. Not for anyone by the landlord on an impromptu visit. You peer over at the same time as your mom. She sends you a curious look as she stands. 

She hobbles away and you feel guilty for letting her. You shy away and wait by the counter. You listen to her footfalls and the schlock of the front door latch as she slides it back. It opens with the usual squeak and you hold your breath as you listen. A low drone meets your mother’s exhausted hello. 

Oh. It wouldn’t be... It can’t be. You assure yourself that you don’t recognise the timbre but even your denial isn’t that strong.  

Slowly, you make your way to the hall and creep down towards your mom as she keeps the door half-way shut against her. It’s him. You hear him say your name. Oh gosh. 

“I’m just following up on her interview. I called but maybe her battery died?” Bucky says. 

You wince and near your mom. 

“Uh, yes, she’s here, I’ll just go--” 

“Mom,” you interject and she jumps in surprise. 

“Oh,” she trills with laughter, “there she is.” 

She lets the door open as you step up next to her, your chest fraught with dread. You stare at Bucky as his blue eyes bore into you. Your mom touches your elbow gently. You’re suddenly overly conscious of your pajama pants and baggy tee. 

“I’ll let you two... chat,” she retreats and leaves you there to his mercy. You can’t beg her to stay without giving yourself away. 

As she heads back down the hall, you step outside and draw the door shut. You know better than to trust her not to eaves drop. How many times had she listened through the doorway when Roxie had one of her boyfriends over. 

“Hey, doll,” Bucky crosses his arms. Is he mad? Does he know you were ignoring him or does he really think your phone died?

“Hi, uh...” 

“You didn’t answer my texts,” he intones. 

“Um, yeah, I... I’ve been... distracted.” 

He nods, a skeptical wrinkle in his forehead, “sure. It's been a week, lots of time to think.” 

You gape up at him. He wants an answer. Now. You have one, but you just can’t say it. You’re silent as tension roils in the humid air. He swoops back a dark lock but doesn’t break his gaze. 

“Look, I... I appreciate your offer and everything else but what you’re asking... if my mom knew...” 

“Hm, yeah,” he puts his hands on his hips, “I thought of that too. You’re a sweet thing and I can see she loves you. It’s unorthodox but I only wanna take care you. Not everyone will understand that.” 

“Right, so I don’t think--” 

“Well, I think she’d be more suspicious if you walked in there and told her I came all the way here not to offer you a job,” he insists, “don’t you?” 

“Y-yeah, but--” you sputter. 

“So, she doesn’t need to know why I’m here, does she? You can tell her you’re working at the casino.” 

“Sure, but I don’t...” you shake your head and look down. He’s right.  

If you tell your mom you missed out on another job, you don’t think you could ever look her in the eye again. It wouldn’t just be another let down but an actual lie. You have an opportunity here. Maybe not the one you thought, but it’s money. After years of living off your mom’s hard work, you owe her. What’s a secret to her not having to work twelves? 

“We get along, don’t we?” He asks. 

You nod. He’s been less than unkind. You can’t really name a single fault on his part. 

“So, I don’t get it. The money, it’s just a bonus,” he explains, “don’t think of it as me paying you to spend time with me, so much as us enjoying each other and both getting the perks from that.” 

“But... but...” you wet your lips with your tongue and clamp them tight. 

He’s cornered you. If you had a few more hours, you could’ve found the strength to take your phone out and type out your rejection but face-to-face? You’re hopeless and you think he knows that. He watches you expectantly. He isn’t hoping, he knows. 

You blow out between your lips and turn your head away, “she can’t ever know.” 

“Doll, for you, I'll keep my lips sealed,” he says, “whatever you want, you got it. That’s the deal.” 

[bambi-slxt]

🤍𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞🤍

𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

word count: 1.6k

genre/tropes: established relationship, hurt/comfort, all fluff

warnings: reader is on her period (fic inspired by me being sick as fuck for a month)

notes from bambi: chris takes care of reader on her period (does not include period sex). don't like, don't read - if you do read, please enjoy! <3

It probably ruined the mattress too. Fuck.

"Chris, baby.." You shook him gently awake. "I'm really sorry but can you go sleep in Matt's room?"

He yawned, a massive, snake-like yawn, unhinged jaw and all. "What're you talkin’ about, ma."

You grimaced, unwilling to go into gruesome detail. "I, um...

Chris blinked away the sleep from his eyes and took in the scene before him. Dark blood had soaked through his bedsheets—quite a bit of it. “Oh fuck, are you ok-”

“Yeah, I just–no, don't look at it, I promise I'll take care of everything, I'm gonna wash your sheets and if you need a new mattress I'll get it, I'm so sorry, Chris please, just…just go sleep with Matt.”

While you spoke, Chris sat himself up and slipped off the other side of the bed, his face fallen with empathy. “‘M gonna help. Come on, let's strip it.”

Your stomach twisted. “No, Chris. I don't want you to see this, I don't even really want you to see me right now, please just go.”

Chris padded around the end of his bed, walking towards you with his achingly familiar gait. “Come here, babygirl.”

Tears, hot and stinging, pricked your eyes, and they began to flow as his arms enveloped your body. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” You tucked your head into his neck, hands clinging to his shirt like a child while his hands stroked up and down your back, your chest heaving and hiccuping with cries. It was all bullshit, this whole thing.

“Don’t gotta be sorry. It’s okay. I got you. M’ not goin’ anywhere. Easy, pretty girl. Take it easy.” Chris murmured his reassurances gently as you stood together in his dark room. 

“Thabnk you,” you sniffled, nose stuffed. “I’m gonna shoot myself directly into the sun.”

He coughed out a laugh. “Don’t do that. Come on, let's take care of the bed and we can go shower, yeah? Get y’ cleaned up n’ shit, okay?”

An apologetic but appreciative smile cracked its way through your features. “Okay.”

Chris’s hands slipped away and cradled your face with as much tenderness as he could muster. “There’s my girl. It’s okay. You’re okay.” You leaned into his touch, looking up at him through tear-soaked lashes. “Hey, baby,” he whispered. “My pretty girl.”

With another sniffle, you finally tore yourself away from his embrace and stared decisively at the disaster zone. Yanking the comforter off, you and Chris began to silently unmake the bed, working in a quiet tandem that would have been comfortable if not for the subject at hand. Balling up his sheets, you stepped around him, making sure your arm brushed his back as you passed, and stepped carefully up the stairs. About halfway up, your ears alerted you to another set of footsteps behind you and you turned to address him. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to-”

“Shh. What if you get lost?”

“...I’m not gonna get lost.”

“Or kidnapped? Ever think about that?”

“I can honestly say that a home invasion resulting in my abduction hasn’t crossed my mind in years.”

Chris huffed and nudged you up the stairs again. “Skill issue.”

Another unexpected smile stretched your lips. “Shut up.”

A soft light emanated from Matt’s room - he must still be awake. “What time is it?” you murmured, sliding open the folding door to reveal the washer and dryer.

Chris shrugged, reaching above your head for the stain remover. “Time doesn’t mean anything anyway.”

“What?” You took the bottle from him and rifled through the heap of sheets. 

He chuckled, quite proud of his ability to drop conversation-grenades. “Like, the numbers we put with time, they don’t add any meaning to it. Numbers are just a way for us to measure something we don’t understand.”

You turned to him slowly, in utter disbelief. “All that raw, incredible intelligence…remind me again how you spell tw-”

“Okay, enough,” he grumbled, snatching the sheets from you. “Here, gimme that. You’re doing it wrong.”

You snickered softly, wrapping your hands around Chris’s arm as he scrubbed the magic soap into his sheets. “Wait, no, you don’t have to do that, hold on, let me just-”

He bumped you out of the alcove with his hips. “Stop. I got it. Doesn’t bother me, ma, I promise.”

“...But I feel bad.”

He shrugged, hands still working the solution through the accidental mess you’d made. “Don’t feel bad. Problem solved.”

“Okay but like…it’s embarrassing. I don’t want you to see this and associate it with me.”

Chris tilted his head and turned to face you, leaning on the dryer to stabilize himself. “You’ve cleaned up worse things that’ve come outta’ me. Y’ any less attracted to me?” You shook your head, wrinkling your nose even still as you remembered his week-long recovery from food poisoning. “See?” Chris held out his hands. “Come here.” You sighed when you settled against his chest once more. “I’m gonna see you do some embarrassing stuff, and some gross stuff, and you’ll see the same from me.”

You grinned in spite of yourself. “Or worse.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, ruffling your hair, “Or worse. Look at me.” Raising your head to meet his gaze, you felt his thumb underneath your chin - not to force you, but just to touch you. “I don’t love ya any less. M’ not any less attracted to ya. I don’t want you to be perfect, I want you to be real and I want you to be mine. That’s all I’m askin’ for, babygirl.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, taking in his words and holding his gaze. “You’re so sweet.”

A soft blush lit his cheeks and he turned away to smile. “Shut up.” 

After dropping the offending sheets into the washer, Chris managed the dials and left it at that. “You wanna go get cleaned up?”

You nodded profusely. “I feel disgusting.”

“Come on, then. Gonna run you a shower to get all that blood off you and then we can just soak in the bath,” he murmured, beckoning down the stairs for you to go before him. “Ladies first.”

“Why, thank you, sir,” you replied, taking his hand daintily and attempting to saunter down the steps to his room and adjoined bathroom. 

“You look like those geese ladies from that old cat movie,” he snickered, following you with a hand wrapped around your outstretched fingers. 

“The Aristocats? I fucking love the Aristocats,” you said.

“Wanna watch it later?”

“Yessss.”

Chris chuckled again and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Lemme get the water warm.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I like taking care of you.”

Now it was your turn to blush. “Shut up.”

The gentle shhhh coming from Chris’s bathroom washed over your ears as you slid the ruined pajama pants down to your ankles. “Gonna have to wash these too,” you growled, balling them up and throwing them at the corner. 

“I’ll do that,” Chris said, “Get in,” and he pointed forcefully to the shower.

“Oh my god it’s so warm in here,” you groaned happily, feeling it soak your skin and warm your body.

“Not too hot?” he asked, closing the sliding glass door almost all the way. 

“Perfect.” Securing your hair out of the way, you let the water flow down your body, taking all the dark stains with it and disappearing down the drain. You didn’t even notice Chris leave. 

The lighting in his bathroom was soft and easy on the eyes. You pulled your soap off the tile-inset shelf and opened it over your chest, letting the cool gel coat your breasts and stomach. Frugality held no bearing on your mind tonight - you earned this small luxury.

The door opened again. “‘M back, baby.” Chris leaned against the wall that upheld the shower, turning his head to meet your eyes through the glass door. “You feelin’ better?” 

You nodded, smearing the now-sudsy soap over yourself. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Taking care of me.”

Chris smiled, though it was tinged by sadness. “Of course I take care of you. And ‘m sorry you thought you had to do all that, you know…by yourself.”

You returned his ached smile. “I'm sorry I bled on your mattress.”

“It’s not a death sentence, babygirl, it’ll be alright.”

You stepped back into the water stream, and let it send the last spots of blood into the drain. “So will I.”

When you awoke again, it was on the couch. The white couch. Scrambling to your feet, your eyes darted around in horror - but no red marks greeted you. 

“You’re okay, baby,” Chris said softly. He stood shirtless in the kitchen, standing over a sizzling pan. “Brought you up here cuz’ you didn't want me to leave you alone in bed.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to regain memory. “But I never…I don't remember putting a-”

“I put a towel underneath us so you could sleep naked like you like,” he said with a smile. “You remember wakin' up this mornin’?”

“Yes…Oh Chris…” A blush flamed across your cheeks at the memory of him holding your hips, running a soft, cool wipe over your folds at your behest. “I shouldn't have asked you to do that, that was weird and gross and-”

“Shut up.”

“No, really, that was-”

“Hey.” He clicked something on the stove and walked over to the couch, cupping your face with his hand. “I was happy to do it. I told you, I like takin’ care of you. Besides, what kinda man would I be if I was scared of a little blood?” His thumb brushed over your cheek. “It’s okay. I promise.”

Tears pricked your eyes, and your chin felt a little shaky. “Thank you.”

“‘Course,” he grinned. “Come on, food’s ready.”

notes from bambi: hope you liked it! i'm such a sucker for soft!chris

[leilanihours]

OKAY HAY so idea with aubrey… aubrey and just giving reader the most biggest princess treatment ever and reader is REALLY girly and like the team tease aubrey hehehehehehhe

# SUPERNATURAL

pairing: aubrey griffin x reader

word count: 1322

warnings: none !

summary: you meet some of aubrey's teammates for the first time.

⭑ from lani: aubrey is criminally underwritten on here so here we go 🎀 thank u to my lovely anon i hope this is good enough! (everyone send more reqs for her bc im in love w her) OH ALSO. TWO POSTS IN ONE DAY? insane, lani, insane.

masterlist !

"OKAY SHE'S HERE!" you hear inside the apartment.

you were standing outside your girlfriend's door picking her up for your date. wearing a flowy, lacy white top with blue jeans, you carried a picnic basket in one hand while the other knocked lightly on the door.

you wait a few seconds, listening to the giggles and shuffling around on the other side. you were nervous, to say the least. you and aubrey had been dating for a month now and this was the first time you would be meeting her teammates.

you knew how much they meant to her, how much she cared about them, so you wanted to make a good impression so as to eventually become close friends with them.

when the door finally opens, you are faced with your girlfriend, who is smiling beautifully down at you (even though she's only two inches taller than you).

"hi, princess," she greets you, placing a sweet kiss on your cheek.

"hi, baby," you reply with a blush on your cheeks.

"aubrey!" you hear a voice call out from inside, "you wanna let her in or are you just gonna have us line up at the door to say hi?"

"shut up, paige!" she replies, "please come in, and ignore what she just said."

you simply giggle at her response, the sound making your girlfriend smile even bigger as you make your way into the apartment.

immediately, you are welcomed by two of aubrey's roommates: one with blond hair flowing down her back and another dark brown hair tied in a bun. they sat at a corner table assembling a lego set before they got up from their seats.

"what's up? i'm paige," the blonde says, holding her hand out to you.

"hi paige, i'm y/n, it's nice to meet you," you respond kindly, shaking her hand.

"hey, you too. aubrey talks about you literally non-stop, so it's nice to put a face to the name."

"non-stop, huh?" you smirk to your girlfriend standing behind you.

"she's lying," aubrey says, sending paige a glare.

"i'm not lying," paige mouths with a shake of her head.

you laugh at their bickering before you turn your head to introduce yourself to the brunette next to paige.

"hi, y/n! i'm jana, it's so great to finally meet you!" she says brightly.

"same to you, jana," you start, holding your hand out for a handshake. you are slightly taken aback when she pulls you in for a quick hug, but you relax into it almost immediately, her friendly demeanor easing some of your awkward nerves.

"god, you're, like, beautiful, how the hell did you end up with aubrey?" she states once you are let out of the hug.

"hey!," aubrey protests.

"thank you so much," you beam, "you're gorgeous, so that means a lot."

"please, i would kill to have lashes like yours! what mascara do you use?"

"oh, i just use-"

"alright we'll save that for another time, yeah? we still gotta meet the rest of the team and make our date so," aubrey interrupts, gently guiding you past the two girls and over to the set of bedrooms down the hall.

"rude!" you hear jana complain, making you giggle.

"okay so i actually kinda lied, only some of the team is here, the others are out somewhere doing something so..." aubrey explains.

"that's okay, i can just meet them another time, right?"

"for sure," she confirms, "yo, kk! ice!"

aubrey knocks on a slightly cracked-open door before pushing it open. inside are two girls sitting at the edge of a bed, eyes glued to the television in front of them as their hands tightly clutch game controllers.

"wassup, aubrey?" the shorter one says, still focused on the game.

"we got a guest."

"alright, we gon' get off soon, just gotta finish this round."

"guys."

"what?" one of them asks, finally turning her head to us, "oh my god! you must be aubrey's girlfriend!"

"finally," aubrey rolls her eyes playfully.

"girl, you did not just roll your eyes at me," she says before turning back to you, "she has no manner sometimes, right?"

"sometimes," you play along with a grin.

"man, kk-" aubrey starts.

"so, y/n! i'm kk, the best player on this team, it's nice to meet you!"

"it's nice to meet you, too! were you guys playing a video game?"

"yeah, we were playing-"

"okay irrelevant, my turn," the taller girl says, "i'm ice and i just wanted to apologize on kk's behalf for her immature introduction."

"you guys are funny," you say, pointing to the two girls before you, "it's great to meet you guys, for real."

"thank you for appreciating us," kk says, placing a hand on her heart playfully, "your girlfriend doesn't seem to have the same brilliant sense of humor as you."

"kk i'm literally gonna-"

"y'all goin' on a little date today right? wouldn't want y'all to be late or nothin' so we don't wanna keep you here too long," she cuts off aubrey again.

"yes, we are going out, so we'll be leaving now actually," aubrey responds, placing a hand on your waist to guide you back out to the living room.

"you guys heading out?" paige asks, looking up from the colorful bricks in front of her.

"yeah, i don't know where the others are so we're just gonna take off," aubrey replies.

"yo, y/n, you gotta come back here soon to meet the rest of the girls, they would love you," ice offers as she sits on the couch with kk following her.

"definitely," you smile, "i'd love to come back, you guys seem really fun to be around."

"they're alright..." aubrey jokes.

"okay, because she said that, we'll all tell you embarrassing stories about her next time," jana says.

"i hate you guys," aubrey rolls her eyes playfully.

"i would actually love to hear those stories one day," you say.

"okay perfect, we'll see you soon, then?"

"definitely."

"oh! we also gon’ tell you about how aubrey literally talks about you all the time," kk says, "i mean, seriously, this girl is obsessed-"

"look at the time! we gotta go, y'know, date and everything so," aubrey interrupts, pointing to the door, "you all good here, princess?" she whispers to you.

"'princess'?" the girls laugh.

"wow, aubrey, didn't take you for such a gentlewoman!" paige jokes.

"yeah, you know she hasn't let go of y/n's hand since she got here?" jana announces with a smirk.

"damn, aubrey, can't keep your hands to yourself?" kk says.

"okay i really need you guys to shut up now," she send a glare to all of them.

"it was great meeting all of you guys, i can't wait to hear those stories about aubrey," you pant through genuine laughter. you were amused by their teasing, and even more by aubrey's flushed expression.

even though you had been in their apartment for less than an hour, you had already grown to love your girlfriend's friends. they seemed like truly fun people who love to joke around.

most of your own friends were from classes, so most of your conversations were blandly about said classes. the basketball players' companies would be a nice addition to your life.

as you walk hand-in-hand with your girlfriend out the door, you hear the girls call out one final time.

"bye, princess!"

you giggle at their reference to aubrey's nickname for you as you wave to them before the door is closed.

"yeah, that's gotta change," aubrey says.

"what?"

"only i can call you princess," she mumbles grumpily.

you personally find her annoyance adorable, and love how defensive she is with you.

"of course, baby," you say, and after a few seconds of silence, "so...you talk about me all the time?"

"maybe..." she replies shyly, "but now i gotta kill them for exposing me like that. uncalled for."

— leilani signing off ! 📁

[essjujutsu]

CHAPTER Ⅱ: MITSKI & MONDAYS

prev , next , masterlist

okay so maybe you were already nervous about the first day of your new school.

and maybe listening to your depressing playlist at 7 in the morning wasn't helping that.

but mitski can help calm your nervs to! but with yuji blasting his music in his room right across the hall, it didn't necessarily get the mood right anyways.

"yn, hurry up! we gotta go in like—two minutes!"

"im coming!!"

you reply, grabbing your backpack. you hopped through your messy floor, clothes spattered out from your unpacked suitcase.

you ran down the stairs, seeing yuji sitting on the floor next to the front door and sukuna rummaging through the upper cabinets of the kitchen.

"here, take these for the walk."

you don't have enough time to fully comprehend what your uncle's saying before a protein bar is being flowed full force at your face—though thankfully you throw your hands up and catch it in the air. you throw the second one to yuji, who instantly unwraps it and starts eating it.

"first day—tough shit. todays when you make first impressions on everyone. good luck."

"oh, uhm—thanks?"

you reply, raising a eyebrow at sukuna's comment. he was being nice—maybe? you couldn't really tell. but before you get to decide yuji announces its time to get going so you wave a quick goodbye to your uncle as you walk outside.

"don't worry, its not a long walk—only like ten minutes give or take."

yuji says, taking out an airpod so he could hear. you nod, opening your phone to make sure you have your schedule for the third time today.

yuji was right, after about 15 minutes you arrive at school. you bite the inside of your lip slightly, a nervous habit you picked up over the years.

"so, were still early, me and my friends always come a bit early 'cause we like to hang before classes and—"

yuji starts, but before he finishes his sentence someone comes rushing from behind the two of you.

"yuji, yn! hey!"

you look behind you at the girl waving. she had dyed orange hair, nobara!

"nobara! there you are!"

"sorry, i know we usually walk to school together but i woke up late—anyways, hi yn!"

nobara replys, walking up to stand in the middle of you and yuji. she smiles as she grabs both of your arms—starting to walk into school.

"its so nice to have another girl in the group, y'know. it's just me and maki, and she dosen't really like shopping so she never goes with me. sometimes panda or toge come but like barley ever 'cause their always 'busy'—"

wow, you only really met her yesterday and she was already talking to you like you were close friends. you smiled, at least meeting yuji's friends was off to a good start then.

nobara countined talking untill you three reached the bustling cafeteria, her and yuji seemed to look around for a moment—trying to find their other friends. then yuji's eyes open a little wide and he points to the back of the cafeteria.

"there they are, let's go!"

he says, practically dragging you through the crowds of tables. nobara had already ran ahead, running to go grab a chair and sit down.

once you finnaly approached the table you looked up to five sets of eyes directly on you.

your mouth starts to turn into an awkward smile as you look around the table trying to deicde what to say, but thankfully for you, yuji most of the time knows how you feel.

"everyone, this is yn!"

he grabs your shoulders, presenting you to the group in a way before laughing. he moves his arms to point—starting at the two at the end of the table.

"yn, this is panda and toge! them, maki, and yuta are all a year older then us. but trust me, you can't tell with these two."

he giggles, his joke resulting in the white haired boy giving your brother a small "hey!" and turning to face you.

"you don't look to much like yuji, you should've ate him in the womb honestly."

panda laughs in response to that, an you can't help but laugh aswell.

"ha-ha, sooo funny guys."

yuji responds, rolling his brown eyes. he points to the two in the chairs next to them.

"those two there are yuta and maki! my favoire girlboss and her malewife-"

"shut up yuji."

the girl with the black hair and glasses replies, standing up and slamming her hands on the table annoyed.

she did look oddly familiar though...did you know her from somewhere?

she notices your confused look at her and raises an eyebrow, as if to ask if you have something to say. nobara wasn't kidding when she said she was intimating.

"sorry, you just look awfully familiar—that's all!"

"hm, you went to the boarding school north from here right?"

you nod in response, wondering what she's getting at. maybe you went to school with her?

"you must know mai. she goes there."

oh it clicks into place, shes related to mai. you didn't know mai all that well, but you did know she was mean. they must be twins, hopefully maki isn't anything like her sister.

"don't worry, im not like her—she's an asshole."

you let out a small sigh of relief. thank god. you turn your eyes to the one person who you haven't met yet. he was sitting at the other end of the table, on his phone. nobara was next to him—she was saying something but he didn't seem to be listening. you reconized him from a couple of yuji's instagram posts, but you didn't remember his name. he looked tired and like he didn't want to be there—which made you wonder why he seemed to hang out with them.

"oh yeah, yn—this is megumi! he's in our grade."

nobara says, as yuji sits down on the table next to him. was this the other best friend yuji had mentioned before? he seemed pretty annyoed as he took off his headphones.

"uh, nice to meet you!"

you say, giving him a small smile. he didn't seem all that interested in talking.

"nice to meet you."

"sorry, he totally puts up this whole 'mysterious and nonchalant' vibe around people—he's not even-"

"shut up, yuji."

nobara was in the middle of doing something with her phone as she spoke up.

"here yn, i added you to our group chat. check it after class m'kay?"

you responded with an agreement, as the bell rang for you to head to your class.

BACKGROUND INFO: - nobara, yuji, toge, panda and maki all met in middle school, megumi later moved into town and became friends with yuji—who added him to their friendgroup - yuta moved last year, and he became friends with maki (and then the rest of the group), are him & maki dating? who knows! i don't think they know either LMFAO - there will be more of each character! i just wanted to get quick character intros

A/N: i'll try to have chapter 3 out by this weekend! again sorry if anythings ooc or if my grammer sucks ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི

TAGLIST: (ask 2 be added) @1ndee @4ngelfries @jammofsammichflip @notveevee @qtnfer @love-me-satoru @satoryaa @loriisheart @starrnai if the tag dosen't work, change ur settings pls !

[heavenlyysstuff]

Flower Girl

NETEYAM.s x fem! omatikaya! reader

summary . Whenever in battle, he always had someone to fight for, and he was always going to return to her at the end of the day.

language . syulang ‘ flower . sevin ‘ pretty

a/n . I apologise for the no content recently, kinda lacking ideas rn, so feel free to drop any idea you have in my asks!

The war cry’s and yelps of his people around him became a blur, the sky people relentlessly try to kick at their defence.

Since the loss of home tree, the Omatikaya never seemed to know peace again, not with these creatures invading their land and homes.

Neteyam can only watch from afar as his people fight for what’s theirs, set with the task of being a watcher, making sure to alert his father for any more incoming sky people.

He wants to fight, protect his land… the ones he loves. But he knows that at his age, war shouldn’t be something he should have to prepare and participate in.

He can see the difference between the numbers in his people and them. It looks like they are winning this battle, but at what cost?

He knows his people will be leaving with scars, bruises and cuts, he just hopes he can help his family stay clean.

“We gotta get down there bro!” Neteyam hears his brother beside him on his own ikran.

“Dad will skin us.” His reply is stern, and in Neteyam’s mind he knows any of what happens to his brother in the next few moments, it will be up to him to take the blame.

Lo’am shakes of his worry with a tilt of the head and his ikran soars down onto the battlefield.

“Lo’ak! You…Ughhh…” Neteyam yells out, grunting at his brother’s rebelliousnes, but also commands his ikran to chase down his brother.

Back at camp, you help to organise some herbs you and other apprentice heaters had gathered.

Your fingers brush through each herb and help to put them into its designated bowl. You and the other young women have created a circle around a total of 5 bowls, each of them sorting through their own sections of herbs.

Not only did this job help the people of the clan, it helped that the apprentices were always chatty, and when you bring a handful of chatty young women into one place, information is bound to spread.

The women frequently discuss any of the latest happenings in the clan, usually small playful stuff, it helped to keep the group entertained.

You never did much talking, only listened, occasionally giving your thoughts when asked but you don’t mind much, you’re more of a thinker, so when working you usually just zone out into your own little world.

“Aah, Y/n… you have more of those in your hair.” A passing female states when handing a bowl of salve to another woman, she crouches behind you and begins to peck at your hair with her fingers.

“Ayyie.” You lift your hands to shield your hair and lean forward. “I like it like this…” she giggled behind you and gives your hair one minor adjustment before standing up to move around the circle.

“It is quite pretty you have to admit, Ayyie.” Another girl in the group says while looking up from her work. “I just don’t know how you do it everyday, Y/n.”

“The reaction she gets from Neteyam every time seems to keep her going.” Another states, and the circle begins giggling at the fact.

You bring your head down to avoid the confrontation, heat pools at your cheeks and your tail is brought high up next to you. “What are you talking about.” You reply rhetorically.

She giggles more at your clearly flustered reaction, “oh nothing just how he always compliments it and that smile you have all day when he does.” This causes hums of agreement and laughter to flow through everyone in the circle.

“He doesn’t…it’s not like that.” Your words contradict your actions, as your tail sways hurriedly behind you, ears pinning to the sides of your head which of course makes the women around you giggle to each other.

“Oh leave her alone, she can hardly think about him without getting so worked up.” Tee’ron spills out half in your defends half to tease you.

You decide it’s be best if you just stopped talking to avoid getting deeper into your pit of embarrassment, you keep your head down and continue sorting through herbs.

The girls remain giggling for a bit before Tee’ron puts a hand on your shoulder, “sorry, Y/n.” She says in a between quiet laughs, quick to calm her breathing.

“The war party is back!”

Those words were what broke you out of your working frenzy, immediately your head shoots to look outside and your ears perk up.

You are first to stand from the circle of women, hastily making your way outside the hut and out to see the returning warriors, to see him.

You walk slowly and look at every man and woman in hopes to find him, and once you look forward, he’s there.

You wanted to run to him, but with seeing him came seeing his father, and the rest of his family. You didn’t know weather to get any closer, but you decided to take the chance.

You slowly walk towards him, and once close enough you can hear the tone of his fathers voice when speaking to him, he seemed to tone it down once Neytiri spoke though.

You don’t think Neteyam noticed you when you stood behind him, but his father certainly did “Y/n, could you help Kiri with the wounded.” He tilts his head to gesture to his daughter who stood on the other side of Neteyam.

“Neteyam is wounded.” You speak with a somewhat sharp tone, your quick to bite your tongue though and quickly lower your eyes to look to the side.

The Olo’eyktan sighs and looks between you and his son, “go on then.”

You can see Neteyam’s shoulders visibly relax and you bring a hand to grasp his arm, pulling it to lead him away from his family and toward an empty healing hut.

On the way you look behind you, only to meet Neteyam’s mothers eyes. You could never really read that woman, mostly silent and stern. The look in her eyes was nothing new though, she looked between you and her son and a small smile crept out of her, you didn’t see it for too long, as you turn to guide Neteyam into the hut.

You let go of his arm and he instinctively takes a seat of the ground close to the herbs set next to him.

He slowly sits down with one leg sprawled out and the other perched closer to his chest, hissing at the strain the movements cause him.

“Shhh..” you’re quick to calm him, coming close to his side and placing a bowl of salve informer of you. He glances at you before looking back down to the ground in front of him, and he goes silent. Tilting your head, you ask “how bad was it?” While scanning over his form to take in any hidden injuries.

He rolls his shoulder and fixes his posture, “could’ve been worse, I suppose.” He huffs, and fixes his gaze on you. “Hey,” he tilts his head, raising a hand to poke at your hair, “where’d you get these ones?”

You move your own hand up to you hair, grasping his hand in the process, “secret.” He scoffs at your reply and looks offended.

“I’ve been almost everywhere in this forest, I’ll find them soon enough.” He brings your clasped hands down to rest on his knee. You only smirk and roll your eyes. “Sevin syulang.”

You hum at his words, “yea I thought so to.” Agreeing with his words, without thinking he may not have been talking about the flowers… “let me fix you up, okay?”

He huffs in fake annoyance, but smiles once you lather salve onto a wound on his shoulder, your hands warm to the touch.

He closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your hands gliding against his slightly scarred skin, feeling as you make your way from his arms, massaging the muscles up to his shoulders.

Then to his face, where you apply smaller amounts of ointment to the wounds. Your hands gliding across his forehead and along the bridge of his nose, under his chin.

He opens his eyes, and realised how much closer you’ve come, only a small distance between your two faces, but he can still feel the slight circular motions you continue on a scar across his jawline.

Exhaling slowly in thought, he grabs your hand to pause your movements, causing you to look into his eyes with what at first was confusion, quickly turning into a realisation.

You both stay eyes locked on each others for a moment, Neteyam’s unoccupied hand coming up to caress your own cheek, the both of you leaning into the others palms.

In what felt like forever, the two of you get closer, eyes dropping low and foreheads touching. Your eyes drop before he follows, heads tilting in sync and lips finally touching, a gentle and passionate kiss shared.

Pulling away slowly for breath, and then moving back in for another in usion, the two of you entranced by each others touch and addicted to the feeling of your hearts beating together.

After three long and loving kisses, foreheads part and you both slowly open your eyes to what had been in front of you all along.

“I see you, Y/n.” Neteyam speaks after quietly catching his breath, bringing you closer into an embrace, arms around your waist to lift you into his lap.

You relax into his body, arms coming up to wrap around his neck and shoulders, “I see you, Neteyam.”

[shirefantasies]

Hey, babes!

Honestly I have brain rot for the idea of the ‘woman of the group does sexy dance to help mission’ trope and like LOTR boys. I also have brain rot for them hearing her sing ‘I Wanna Make Love To You’ by Etta James.

Anyway can I request the elves reactions to reader do a sexy burlesque/strip style dance? Like they in the audience and how they’d react.

By elves I mean: Elrond, Lindir, Thranduil, Legolas, Haldir and Arwen

OK I’M YELLING (I went ahead n threw our girl Galadriel in there cuz gotta catch em all right? 😁) there’s not really a mission lol but hope this does it justice! My latest D&D session the other night ended with burlesque performance so this feels like the perfect time to post this hehe

The Elves Reacting to F!Reader’s Burlesque Performance

Warnings: suggestive obviously 😆

Thranduil

Sure, he knew you’d all but been dared to set foot upon the stage, but something in your resolute expression and the long robe you wore had Thranduil’s eyebrows raising. Nary did he expect the way your hand shot out, grabbing the pole the moment the lights dimmed, or the way your robe dropped, revealing the lowest-cut, highest-slit dress he’d ever seen you in. Breath hitching, he watched as a long wave of fabric draped between your gorgeous legs, which wrapped around the pole as you climbed it. Eyes darkening as you spun, he could hardly help imagining what, or whom, else they could wind around so, and if he would ever be so blessed to see the confident air overtaking you again…

Legolas

Frowning, Legolas disappeared further into the gathering crowd. Gimli was the one who’d dared him to attend the show, telling him he was sure no pointy-ear could handle it. How could it be so, simply a performance? The crowd looked far too eager for you to be putting them into any sort of- oh. You emerged onto the stage, forearms and down covered with feathers like the wings of a great bird. Your legs were almost entirely bare, skirt minimal and bodice little more than a corset. Twirling and pirouetting into poses the woodland prince could only describe as suggestive, you beamed innocently at the crowd and hid behind your feathers, lashes fluttering. Another performer emerged behind you, hands on your waist and fingers deftly loosening your corset… Gripping the arms of his seat tighter, Legolas leaned in, a yearning in his own fingers readily accepting his friend’s latest challenge.

Haldir

A dancer you were. That was a known fact whispered among those familiar with you, often calling you something of a knife-dancer. Curiosity got the better of Haldir when scandal colored whispers of your performance right outside the woods. Was it dangerous, perhaps? Pride flowed into the little smile of anticipation he wore as fast-paced music filled the room and flames were snuffed, leading you to slide gracefully into the dim. Crouching, you crawled to the edge of the stage with a bloodthirsty grin that sent shivers down Haldir’s spine. Flicks of your wrists revealed your famed blades, which you twirled, tossed, and dragged gently along the length of your tongue. Brows raising, he found himself leaning forward with new interest. What sort of dance was- Coherent thought ceased immediately when you tossed your blades, caught them, and began slicing away at purposefully shoddy seams upon your outfit, revealing more and more until the elf was on the edge of his seat…

Galadriel

Hearing of a new form of entertainment served only to pique Galadriel’s curiosity and draw her from her frequent solitude. After all, if it was making her people happy… She did not expect to see a lone performer upon a platform, elaborately feathered fans covering most of her figure, but there you were. Clad all in white, at least from what she could see near your feet, you slowly closed the fans. The long swaths of fabric that hung near the ground begun only at your hips, the expanse of your legs utterly bare as you extended them, moving gracefully across the stage as your fans accentuated every curve and undulation of your body. Jerking, you rotated, hips swiveling as you happened to face the Lady of Lórien, and watching you through her lashes Galadriel felt a devilish smile rise to her lips. She saw exactly why there had been such a buzz…

Lindir

There had been talk of you giving a performance of some kind, but all Lindir had been able to retrieve on the subject was that he should quite like to be in the audience, so with a light heart he shuffled into the crowd, pleased to be quite close to the stage set up for you. Perhaps you’d learned a new instrument under his nose and wishes to surprise him with a performance! Perhaps- You slunk to the center clad in, oh dear, quite a sheer skirt. Feeling a rush of heat to his face, he tried to focus upon the swell of music, largely successful until you ripped your top off, hips swinging lower as your layers thinned and thinned… You froze momentarily, wearing little more than your corset, and made direct eye contact with Lindir, whose eyes widened and body felt quite faint. Slowly, deliberately, you took up your dance once more, grinning at him as you began unlacing the back of your garment. His hands shot up, half-covering his face, but he couldn’t help himself peeking again and again.

Elrond

Housing a troupe of performers was certainly an unusual set of circumstances, but not in the slightest beyond the reach of the great homely house. Indeed, at encouragement from Lindir to let music fill his halls, Elrond acquiesced to a performance, unknowing of the so-called ‘dancers’ who would emerge after the exuberant wind section. In fact, it wasn’t until they called you out that Elrond’s eyes widened, brows expressive as ever as they flexed in great shock. You were lowered down on ropes, sitting with your legs largely bared and swinging. Garments- quite the loose term- of drapery covered the rest of your form, but as you leaned back in your swing, you began twisting, swiveling, removing one veil after another… Elrond found himself looking this way and that, but his eyes could never leave you for long. Feeling his gaze darken and his hands flex, he wondered what he had gotten himself into…

Arwen

How scandalous could it be? Many a friend or even a family member or two had rolled eyes and whispered harshly about your performances, but Arwen was not afraid. No matter what it was said to be, she would experience it for it to be so in her mind. Thus she found herself in the audience of the very subject of contempt, the somewhat smaller ratio of maids to men not lost upon her. A great fount was all Arwen could see at the center of it all, at least until one bare leg slowly arched from its edge. Blinking, Arwen watched as it was followed by another, each of them kicking some water onto the crowd before your hands gripped the other side, flipping over to render most of your body visible. Hanging from the sides, you swiveled your hips, head innocently rested upon your folded arms as if your…ahem…rear end were not moving so. Sitting up, you let go, dropping back into the water with a splash before emerging again and grinningly tossing water on more patrons. Arwen found herself mirroring your expression, following your every motion with interest and a strange sense of elation.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

[babydollmarauders]

CHRISTMAS COOKIES — DAWSON MERCER

dawson mercer x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which baking christmas cookies with her boyfriend leads to y/n getting sticky

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, p in v (unprotected), nipple play, food play. (2.5k words)

notes: welcome to day 5 of the 12 days of kinkmas! i wrote this smut in…october! i tried something a bit different with this one, i hope y’all enjoy it!

“i’m gonna start on the wet ingredients, you think you can handle the dry ones?” i survey the countertop as i speak, containers of flour, sugar, and the likes all spread across the marble counter.

“yeah, i can do that.” Dawson nods, seeming confident, and i press a quick kiss to his cheek before i retreat to the mixer on the other side of the counter.

“uh… what’s the dry ingredients?” my boyfriend questions, making me turn back to see him staring at the ingredients with bewilderment. “they all seem dry to me.”

his head snaps up at the sound of my giggle, pasting a confused smile on his face.

“okay, how about i make the cookie dough, and you make the icing?” i suggest, and his shoulders slump in relief, nodding his head.

“that, i can handle.” he grins, switching places with me so he’s by the standing mixer.

i can use the hand mixer for the wet ingredients of the cookies, but i’m not sure i trust Dawson to not make a mess of the icing with the hand mixer.

we work in tandem, a gentle flow of holiday music pouring out from the alexa in the living room as we do our jobs.

it’s mainly silent between us, both focused on our own tasks; the only words being those of asking each other to hand the other something.

i’m nearly done rolling out the dough when Dawson comes over, proudly grasping the mixing bowl of icing. his hands are covered in powdered sugar, a wide, prideful smile on his face.

“i’m done!” he states, setting the bowl on the counter beside me so i can see.

“it looks great! good job, babe!” i cheer, transferring the dough onto a cookie sheet before popping it in the fridge to chill.

i turn back to my boyfriend, who stands at the counter, playing with leftover flour that i had sprinkled down to keep the dough from sticking to the countertops.

he perks up as i walk back over to him, a wet washcloth grasped in my hands to clean up the mess. the ingredients already taken care of, due to my tidy tendency of putting them away as i work.

“now what?” he asks me, watching as i wipe off the counter.

“well, the dough has to chill for at least an hour.” i explain, “so we can do whatever you want.”

a spark ignites in his eyes, and i know i should’ve chosen my words more carefully.

“whatever i want?” he repeats, taking a step forward. the front of his body presses against mine, his head dipping down to capture my lips with his.

he tastes sweet and sugary, like the icing he just made. his hands snake around to rest on my butt, and when he pulls his lips from mine, he chuckles.

“what are you laughing about?” i raise a brow, and when he brings his hands up to show them to me, they’re still covered in powdered sugar and flour. “oh my god!”

a lighthearted gasp escapes my lips, twisting and contorting my body to try and see my ass. when i do, i find two white powdered handprints on my black leggings.

“oh, you asshole!” i huff, turning back to glare at him as he now washes his hands at the sink, but he just laughs, knowing i don’t mean it. “you did that on purpose!”

“so what if i did?” he teases, watching me try and swat the white powder from the fabric.

i roll my eyes when i see that it’s only spreading it rather than getting rid of it.

“now i’ve gotta wash these.” i push the leggings down my legs, stepping out of them and leaving me in Dawson’s oversized t-shirt.

crumpling the black pants up in my hands, i make my way to the laundry room, stuffing them in the washer to join the other clothes that have sat in there far too long, and add detergent before pressing start.

“you know, that was mean!” i call out as i walk back to the kitchen. “you know those were my last clean pair.”

Dawson is leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest and a lopsided smirk on his face.

“i’m sorry.” he feigns a pout, uncrossing his arms in order to let his hands grip my sides, pulling me flush against him. “i guess i’ll have to make it up to you.”

“and how do you plan on doing that?” my hands lay flat against his chest, my head craned to peer up at him. my tone is sultry and slow, and the way he looks down at me, with eyes full of lust, i think i know exactly what he has planned.

he spins us around, caging me against the counter, while his lips meet mine. the once sweet and soft kiss that we shared just moments ago is gone, replaced by one of passion and desire. his tongue flicks across my bottom lip, coercing me into opening them, his tongue slipping through to mingle with mine.

his now clean hands slide down my hips, gripping my ass harshly and pulling my hips against his. a throaty moan is pulled from me as i feel his quickly hardening erection against my core, grinding against him in a steady pace.

i’m abruptly swept off my feet, deposited onto the counter without our kiss ever breaking. my body shivers, my back arching at the cold marble against my heated skin. my legs wrap around his waist, using them to pull him even closer against me, if even possible.

“i need you.” i breathe against his lips, and he nods, tilting chin forward to kiss me again.

his hands begin playing with the hem of my t-shirt, slipping underneath. his hands drag up my torso, brushing along the underside of my breasts before he cups beneath them.

he pulls his lips away, our heavy breaths mingling. pulling off my top, he leaves me in nothing but my cotton panties. his eyes lock on my breasts, my nipples stiff and peaked against the cold December air that the open living room window brings in.

“close your eyes.” he whispers, his breath fanning across the side of my face as he leans forward.

i follow his command, squeezing my eyes shut. my heart races in wonder and confusion, especially when i hear a clatter and screech of metal against the counter.

i open my mouth, about to question his actions, when i’m cut off by something cold and thick spread across my nipples. my breath hitches in my throat, my eyes flying open to gauge his actions.

Dawson stands between my spread legs, his index finger covered in icing, and when i peek down at my chest, i find icing dripping down my breasts.

“oh.” my teeth sink into my bottom lip as i watch him smirk. his eyes lock with mine, staring back at me as he slowly descends to my chest, his tongue darting out.

he licks up my left breast, following the path of dripping icing until he reaches my nipple. my chest heaves as he reaches his desired destination, his lips closing around the stiff peaks, sucking it into his mouth. his tongue swirls around it, collecting the icing.

“oh.” my hand cups the back of his neck, gripping his hair to ground myself amongst the immense pleasure. shockwaves wrack my body, my back arching and my jaw going slack as my head tilts back, my eyes squeezing shut.

he pulls off with a pop, his fingers replacing his lips while he switches to my other breast. while one nipple is pinched and circled by his thumb, the other is licked and drawn into his mouth.

once he’s sucked all the icing off, his hand splays across my chest, pushing me down onto the counter. he dips his finger back into the icing, spreading a line up my torso before dipping in again and slathering it on my nipples once more.

he stares into my eyes, pressing his finger to my lips, and i part them, allowing the digit to push against my tongue. remaining eye contact, i close my lips around him, sucking and swirling my tongue around, licking his finger clean from the icing.

Dawson lets out a groan, his hips rolling against mine in the heat of the moment, prior to pulling his hand away.

he dips down again, pressing a kiss to my lower stomach before letting his tongue drag up my abdomen, licking up the icing. my body tenses as he does so, leaving behind a trail of sticky saliva in his wake. as he reaches my cleavage, he presses open mouthed kisses up my sternum before trailing off towards my left nipple. he licks around it, swirling his tongue and sucking.

my hand flies up to grip the edge of the countertop above my head, the other tangling in his fluffy dark blonde tresses. a cry of pleasure echoes throughout the kitchen, and it takes me a second to even realize it’s my sound.

he kisses his way across to my other breast, repeating the process as his fingers pinch and pull on the hardened peak that his lips just abandoned.

a knot forms in my stomach, tangling and twisting as he goes. my toes curl, my brows furrowing and my back arching as chin tilts up towards the ceiling. a strangled moan falls from my lips, my body convulsing slightly as my orgasm washes over me.

at my heavy breathing and high pitched whimpers, Dawson pulls away, a smirk on his lips as he looks down at me in my blissed state.

“did you just…?” he trails off, chuckling as i nod. “i didn’t know you could do that.”

“me neither.” i shudder, sitting up.

my skin feels tacky from the icing, but i push that thought to the side, cupping the nape of his neck with both hands. i pull him forward, crashing my lips against his.

“that was so fucking hot.” he mutters into the kiss, momentarily getting distracted when i begin to tug his shirt up.

“i want you to fuck me.”

at my words, he pulls away, his hands pulling his shirt over his head before he pulls me in for another kiss. his thumbs hook into the sides of my panties and i lean back on my hands, lifting my hips and allowing him to pull the cotton fabric down my legs.

the cold air hits against my slick heat, resulting in shivers across my body, making Dawson chuckle lowly.

“so pretty,” he compliments, lazily dragging the back of his knuckles down my stomach. “all naked for me.”

his fingers find my core, sliding through my cum. his eyes find mine, holding the contact as he brings his fingers up to his lips, sucking them clean.

i moan at the sight, tugging at his jeans. my fingers fumble with his button and his hands shoo mine away, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping, tugging his pants and boxers down his legs and stepping out.

his dick springs up, slapping against his abdomen, and my pussy clenches at the sight. his tip is red and swollen, a bead of pre-cum leaking out.

i reach forward, gently grasping the base, and giving it a light tug.

“don’t be a tease, baby.” he gruffs out, hands gripping my waist as he yanks me off the counter.

i let go in surprise and he spins me around, pushing me down and bending me over the counter. he wastes no time in running his cock through the wetness of my folds, groaning at the feeling. i can feel his dick prod at my entrance as he lines up, sliding in easily, and my breath catches as he fills me up.

“fuck, you’re so perfect.” he grunts, bottoming out inside of me. one of my hands splays flat on the counter, the other reaching down to my hip, clawing his hand away in order to hold it in mine.

“please move.” i whisper, barely audible over the christmas music that still drifts throughout the kitchen.

Dawson leans forward, swiping my hair to the side and over my shoulder. his bare chest presses against my back as he leaves wet kisses to the back of my neck, his hips snapping as he begins to thrust.

he brings our hands to the countertop, laying my palm flat with his resting on top of it, while his other hand snakes around the front of to gently rub my clit.

an outward gasp drops from my parted lips, pushing my hips back to meet him.

the more time passes, the harder his thrusts get, until my hips are hitting the edge of the counter with each stroke, surely getting bruised in the process.

“shit, i don’t know if i’m gonna last.” his voice is tight, words sounding as though spoken through clenched teeth, and i nod in agreement.

“i’m so close, Daws!” in contrast to the last time i spoke, i’m practically yelling now, my climax building with each stroke and each circular rub of my clit.

my legs feel close to giving out, my back arching to hit a new angle. his thrusts are turning sloppy, the rhythm leaving, and i feel his abs flex against my back, letting me know he’s close.

his finger speeds up, pushing me closer and closer until the edge, until finally the pleasure becomes too much. my legs begin to shake, my walls tightening around him, hitting my orgasm and spurring on his.

Dawson continues fucking me through our releases, fucking his cum deeper into me as he does so. once i’ve come down from my high, i reach back, pushing him away by the hip, and he stops, his heavy breaths mixing with mine as i spin around to face him.

he’s got a small smile as he pants, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against his chest. i lay my head against him, listening to his heart pound, slowly but surely evening back out to its normal pace.

i mentally cringe at a realization. he’s supposed to bring these cookies tomorrow during morning skate before the game against the Flyers.

“well, i think we might have to make more icing.” i joke, gaining a laugh from my boyfriend.

“there’s still plenty!” he remarks, looking down at me with a mischievous grin.

“Dawson, that is so unsanitary! we can’t give the team christmas cookies made with icing that your hands were in!” he opens his mouth as though to argue with me but i cut him off before he can start. “your hands, which had touched my boobs!”

a look of possession dawns across his face and he nods, “you’re right, they’re not inadvertently tasting you.”

“oh gross, babe!” i chuckle, pulling away from him. my chest peels from his, still sticky from the icing, and i cringe.

“i need a shower.”

Dawson scoffs as i walk away, heading towards our bedroom, and i’m almost there when i look over my shoulder.

“you coming?” i call out. i can’t hold back my giggle when i hear his footsteps slapping against the tile and then hardwood, catching up with me.

he raises an eyebrow, pointing back towards our christmas tree in the living room as he speaks.

“if i ever say no to that question, i want you to choke me with that garland.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just the Two of Us: Night Changes

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: Steve stops by unexpectedly.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“No lie, that’s gotta be the best hot cocoa I’ve ever had,” Steve holds out his empty glass.  

You take his cup and he recoils, smothering a yawn in the crook of his elbow, “it’s off-brand and comes in a can. You don’t need to flatter me.” 

“I’m not exaggerating,” he chuckles as he drops his arm. His eyes are shadows with dark rings. It’s only then you notice how tired he looks. He did mention he’d just got back from a mission. “Delicious.” 

“Sure,” you grab your cup and go around the counter to rinse both out. 

He stretches his arms above him as the futons squeak. He yawns again, this time almost roaring, “Guess I should head out soon,” he says. 

“No rush, but you seem beat,” you put one mug in the rack then work at the other. “Shouldn’t be too busy this late.” 

He doesn’t respond as the faucet continues to flow. You shut it off and set the other mug in the metal holder. You dry off your hands and peek over at him. Is he... 

The loud snort affirms your suspicions. In a second, he’s fallen asleep. He must be dead tired. You wonder why he even bothered coming. Then again, you know how those things can sneak up on you. 

You hang the dishcloth and go to the couch. His legs are splayed and limp, his hands on his thighs, as his chest rises and falls with his snores. You raise your hand and hover it above his shoulder. You hesitate. 

You curl your fingers in as you think of another sleeping man. The type that would explode out of sleep and scream until your ears hurt. Then more pain. The kind that left bruises. 

You back up and drop your arm. You can let him sleep. He’s tired. He’s been out fighting bad guys and you’ve been sitting here staring at the sky. 

You check the balcony door, then the front door to make sure the locks are in place. You tiptoe around as his steady snores continue. You take a blanket from the closet and drape it over him cautiously. 

You grab your bedding from the chest you also use as a coffee table and lay it out on the floor. Folded, the futon isn’t very big. You add an extra quilt for padding and turn off the lights. 

You lay down and put white noise on your phone to help you sleep. At first, you can’t. You close your eyes but you’re restless and the floor is hard. You roll this way and that until you feel that heaviness in your eyelids. When you fall asleep, it a sludgy darkness that aches in your limps. 

When you wake, you’re stiff and sore. You shiver and hug the blankets closer as the cold air nips at your cheek. You can see your breath. The morning light peers in with a grim gray haze and adds to the frigidity. You groan. You’re too freezing and achy to make yourself sit up. 

“Hey,” Steve’s voice startles you as his footsteps circle around the chest, “where’s your thermostat? It’s getting a bit chilly.” 

“Therm...” you murmur through chattering teeth, “the building controls i-i-it. D-d-don't have one.” 

“Jeez, you slept on the floor,” he looks down as you realise he’d been calling out as if you have another room; well, there’s the bathroom. “You could’ve woken me up.” 

“You were tired,” you say hoarsely and sniffle. You turn onto your side. Your nose is full and you can barely breathe. You can hear the nasal clog in your voice. 

“Are you getting sick?” He asks. 

“No,” you insist, “it’s just the dry air.” 

You hide the pang that rattles your skull and nearly whimper as you push away the blankets. You stand, mustering all your efforts, and cross your arms, not only to warm yourself but to hide your very braless torso. 

“Sound sick to me,” he says. 

“I’m fine,” you snort deeply. “Mm, I need some tea.” 

“You need to relax,” he turns and goes to the futon. He feels underneath it and releases the lever to it falls flat. “Lay down. I can make the tea.” 

“I said I’m all good,” you argue, “please Steve. You should go home and get some real sleep.” 

“Speak for yourself,” he counters. 

You laugh, “it’s good, Cap. You don’t have to save me from myself. Really. I’ve slept on worse floors.” 

You shake your head and brush past him. You go around the counter and put the kettle on. You hug yourself and rub your arms as you blow out your breath. 

“You have?” He says. 

You look at him curiously. “I’ve what?” 

“You’ve said you’ve slept on worse floor...” his expression is dire. 

You smile and shrug, “and I’m sure you have too.” 

He stares at you. You shy away and turn to take out a mug. He approaches and stands just to the side, fingers tapping on laminate. 

“It’s awfully cold in here.” 

“Thought you wouldn’t feel it. The serum or whatever,” you suggest. 

“Yes, I’m not worried about me.” He says. 

“Do you want some tea? More hot chocolate?” You offer. 

“You’re changing the subject.” 

“Because the conversation is over. I told you, I’m not sick. It’ll warm up. There’s a timer on the radiator. Usually kicks in around nine and it’s only... 7:30.” You rub your palms together then blow into them. “I’ll just grab a blanket.” You pass him again. He’s rigid as you do. You swipe up a blanket, nearly letting out a whine as you bend over, and sweep it around your shoulders. “Much better,” you sigh. 

“That’s not right. How much do you pay for this place and they’re controlling the heat?” He scoffs. 

“Steve,” you give him a look. “I have a roof over my head and walls. That’s a lot for some people.” 

“And for you?” 

You look at him and raise your brows, “kinda.” 

“Right,” he accepts flatly. “Well, you sit down. I’ll make the tea.” 

“It’s my place--” 

“And I’m your friend. Let me just do something nice for you,” he says. “Since it’s too much to ask that you do something nice for yourself.” 

“Are you... mad?” You wince. 

Your heart lurches. Even if you know it’s just Steve, that he won’t be the same, you’re nervous. You don’t like anger. You clutch the blanket and draw it tight, shrinking down defensively. 

He looks at you and forces the stone from his jaw. He exhales and lets his shoulder relax. His eyes soften, “no, I’m concerned. That’s all.” 

“Well, you don’t need to be,” you sniffle. “Thanks for the tea.” 

You turn and go to the couch. You sit and wring the blanket in your hands. It’s not like it was. You’re safe. You’re far away. You don’t need to be like this. Yet, you are. When a car backfires, when a voice is raised, when you think you see a shadow in the corner of your eye...  

But Steve won’t hurt you. He’s trying to protect you because that’s what he does. It’s too much. You don’t deserve that. He has too many other people to worry about. 

[danwhobrowses]

I'm not sure how much good this vent will do, I'm not even sure I want to post this vent after my last one, but I'm writing it just so it's out of my head and into words because it seems once again fandom has chosen to send vitriol Ashton Greymoore's way.

What for? They talked to a 'specter' of the primordial titan within them, through their connection to the earth, the natural flow of creation and destruction. They ask what will happen to the world, it responds that it'll endure, they ask what of the people, it responds that the strong will survive and the weak will be remade into something stronger, to which Ashton replies they think they understand. To fandom this means that Ashton is becoming a fascist, that they have a 'Make Exandria Great Again' attitude for wanting the Primordials back, that they need to be beaten up or 'get what's coming to them' in order to change their mind, and I can only sit here and stew and wonder if this hate is really well-founded? Ashton is among my favourite characters in C3, I get frustrated by them at times too but if I think about it a big percentage of my frustrations is more towards people disliking them than me disliking things they do, or Matt setting up scenarios that doesn't do them any favours towards the fandom that hates them. Some of these are knee-jerk reactions of course, but for others it does feel like they have it out for Ashton, and I don't wanna engage with that, which makes it quite lonely when most of the fandom hones in on it.

For the most part I can understand how the whole 'the weak will be remade' bit can be taken badly; it's definitely iffy, but every other plan we have is also very iffy. The Release Predathos option literally involves unleashing an entity that wants to genocide the gods, the Maintain Status Quo option ('option' the status quo imo is impossible, in my mind the Gods can stay but the dynamic will still have to change) maintains a relationship where the gods pick and choose who they feel deserves help, using their power to covet more power, strongarm and demand loyalty, and overall choose fellow gods over mortals when the chips are down and not owning up to it. We should also remember that entities can speak in riddles, 'remade into something stronger' doesn't necessarily mean death; it could mean to adapt and grow, to become strong enough to bear and overcome it as many of the PCs of Critical Role have done with their hardships and trauma. It's worth reminding that the sad truth is that people will die whatever outcome happens - the aim is always to lessen the amount but if the Gods leave it's a power vacuum, if we linger too long it's a Calamity, and if the Gods stay it's a holy war on a more wild and less organized scale - and that Ashton isn't saying they approve of such death, merely that they think they understand. The commune doesn't tell Ashton which way to go; it only tells them that the world will endure, there will be change and it will change people, trees will still grow, the wind will still blow, the waves will still flow along the coasts of the sea, and people will survive. I know the interpretation can differ from people thanks to Matt's patented vague or riddle-mounted choices in phrase, but I also think if it was the Wildmother who told Orym or some other follower that 'nature is a cycle, everything must adapt to change or else it'll die - this world will change, but it will also survive' nobody would be calling Orym a fascist, people would accept it because the Wildmother's domain is nature, and nature is not always kind.

While we're mentioning Orym - and because this is gonna come off as critical I must preface that I like and enjoy All of the Hells, that's not changed - I also gotta call it out here because it does very much feel like the people who hate Ashton hate them for the reasons they love Orym. Both are stubborn, they're diligent in their personal code, they care deeply for their friends and would give their whole being just to keep them safe, they believe in the Hells' power and greatness more than each member does and more than they believe in their own, but Ashton gets the hate mainly because these fans agree more with Orym on the god stuff. What confuses me though is how these same haters can despise Ashton for being consistent but love Braius, the literal Devil Worshipper who secretly is on board with the Chase Away plan only so he can help the Devil rule the world, the compulsive liar. Where's Braius' scrutiny? A world under Asmodeus will be a far worse 'survival of the fittest' scenario, why does Braius get a pass in all this stuff huh? Because he's funny? Seems people ignore the whole morality talk when they're discussing Braius' dedication to Exandrian Satan.

I find it irksome too that even the group seem to criticize Ashton reaching out to Primordials too - as if that wasn't what we wanted them and Fearne to do anyway. They don't dislike the gods simply because they're a 'great entity', it's because they're a great entity that holds power and doesn't use it equally or fairly; they pick and choose who to help, a lot of the time in Ashton's experience for their own self-service, but they won't prioritize mortals over another god no matter who cruel or heinous the god is being, and the following of these gods are so intertwined with politics that most religious motivation also ends up being political. Ashton has no connection to the gods, they reached out and got nothing, an Angel looked at them and made them feel like nothing, but they do have a connection to the Primordials; from the Earth Golem to the Titan Empress they're literally a vessel of, they experienced something significant in their connection to the Earth, so I don't like how that they're almost mocked for having it. In addition, Ashton's behaviour during this commune differs because of that connection, but also because the titans are a natural flow; they don't demand or test or politic or prejudice, and despite being a Great Entity in its own right it never made sure Ashton felt small for their own satisfaction, they asked a question and got an answer, it's the same reason Ashton has disdain for most political leaders but likes and respects Keyleth, Allura, Kima, Pike, and (eventually) Percy despite also being people in power. To call on Orym and the Wildmother as an example again; Orym's an Air Ashari, the Ashari are guardians of the Elemental Planes - made from the Primordials - not tied to a god, but nobody criticizes his connection to the Wildmother despite both not being a follower and his culture being more tethered to Primordials and their descendants. I'm not saying it's all correct for Ashton to want things to go back to how Primordials ruled, but we must remind ourselves also that we only know a story written by victors when it comes to the Schism - a story which could very easily have been altered and edited to make it feel more justified for the Primes and mortals to actively genocide all the Primordials, the native species and creators of this world, and desecrate their remains to make weapons, soul anchors, and cities - the specter didn't say 'fuck em, all mortals should die' after all, if they believe mortals would survive then they must be at the least tolerant of mortal existence. Why is it okay for god followers to say they wanna keep the world with the gods they have a connection to (and I'm not saying they aren't) but Ashton is out of line for wanting to have a world which has something active that they also have a connection to? It seems rather unfair to allow one side to have and the other to have not, picking and choosing because our audience's bias has spent more time with the gods, Ashton wanting something they can connect to doesn't feel all wrong either, the Eidolons still exist with faint worship hiding away so they're not smited by the gods, why can't faith exist so they're not in hiding? I sincerely doubt the Punk Rock that is Ashton is asking for the Primordials to fill the Gods' roles the same way the Gods have been running things either, they want to break the throne remember? There needs to be a balance in ideals and practice of course, and in an ideal world there could even be a more fluid and all-inclusive Exandria where gods and Eidolons live harmoniously with mortals without hierarchy and class systems, I think Ashton could happily live with something like that, they did say the world needs 'a little chaos' to call back to Matt hinting that the current world doesn't have enough.

Which leads us to those wishing violence upon Ashton - and I really don't like that. People who say 'hitting them over the head is the only language they understand' seem to misinterpret Ashton as if everyone around them have been on their hands and knees begging Ashton to reconsider and them ignoring valid points and pulling a Leroy Jenkins. In reality, nobody is actually talking to Ashton about it, a lot of the frustration with Bells Hells right now is that they aren't talking to each other, even about the end goal! Ashton has valid reasons for their thinking, so being violent isn't gonna change their mind; undermining, dehumanizing and trying to effectively bully anyone let alone someone with chronic pain and low self worth will never truly convince them to your way of thinking. All people understand the language of violence, but that language is not used justly, those who truly wish violence upon Ashton don't want it in hopes it'll force Ashton to change their mind, they want it for their own satisfaction of seeing them in pain; so they can further push them away from the rest of the group and go 'that guy's not one of us', make it so the people Ashton calls family after a lifetime of loneliness, confusion and abandonment - the people they promised they won't abandon, and have kept true on that promise even at their lowest - make them feel small and worthless, and force them into box where they can't be themselves, and I hate that people would want to treat them that way. Ashton IS capable of listening; they've stepped back and trusted the other Hells to do their own thing even when it's ridiculous like staging a play where they pretend to be Ludinus to trick Unseelie emissaries into thinking that he attacked them, they listened to the gods even when they didn't have to like they promised they would and despite it being very personal they held themselves back for the benefit of the group, and if the group talked to them calmly where they were all allowed to healthily discuss the pros and cons, the ideals and compromises, and the risk and reward of all plans that have been proposed then they would listen, and they would try - you don't need to slice bread with a broadsword.

Will Ashton 'get what's coming to them'? Maybe, but what is that exactly? We only assume to know the full vision of what Ashton wants to act on. All of Bells Hells are gonna face the consequences of the choice they make on Ruidus - when they finally make one that is - in and out of the world they live in, so won't that apply to everyone? So what for Ashton? do people want Fractures 2.0? Does everything Ashton wants in life have to blow up violently in their face? Family, Closure, their best friend's safety, why does 'what's coming to them' have to be something aggressive and harmful? People change through positive reinforcement and good experiences too! Caduceus Clay would remind you that it's love that makes people. Don't mistake this rant as me wanting Ashton to be exactly as they are now, I too want to see growth from Ashton and we ARE seeing it happen; I see it in small instances where they think twice about rash actions and try not to fly off the handle, when they sit just to listen or understand or to defuse tension, and that when they're going somewhere or doing something they let the group know in advance, those who think Ashton hasn't changed since ep. 1 aren't paying close attention, but that doesn't mean that they don't still have more ground to cover. I believe that Ashton grows the most through kindness; when they're treated like a person and not a blunt instrument or a nuisance, and I hope what's 'coming' for Ashton isn't rejection, bitterness, and isolation, but acceptance, empathy, and for someone - if you know me you'd know who I'd want it to be - to convince them that they are worthy of living, that they're special not because of their powers or blood or because they have died and been put back together again (honestly, it does irk me a little that both Keyleth and Imogen chose that for titles and to brag to the Matron, I know it isn't intended this way but sometimes it feels like saying 'your best defining quality is that you've died a lot') but because while they have every reason to hate everything they still chose to be kind to those who deserve kindness, they have a good heart and they mean well. Are they perfect? No! They're in their 20s very few people irl have their lives together at even twice that age, but I want them to have good things in their life; things that help them feel happy and safe and like they can still feel comfortable in their own skin without having to appear more 'palatable' for people who've already decided that they don't like them. I want them to know that they've always deserved to live and they still deserve it now, I want that not just for Ashton but for all the Hells, and hopefully they'll all live to have it.

And most of all I want the people who hate them to be wrong about Ashton Greymoore, and I want Taliesin to prove them wrong.