#cherry soda boy

[agrinsosardonic]

(via https://open.spotify.com/track/5OU9pkK0wkHJMCOBVYafye?si=6MSV2qpjSoGXnNOqq4k3tg)

STCMT: Chapter 13

“Truth or dare Cloud?”

Read at A03 

[ratfreecog]

Am I the only person who cares at all about Bob Sheldon. Not really even in the usual way I care about characters like he’s not super important to me but like. Towards the end of the book when Pony gets super retrospective and anytime he talks about Bob and the socs vs his own friend group and their parallels (ESP SODA AND STEVE VS BOB AND RANDY WITH THE SAVING/NOT SAVING THE KIDS AND THE STILL FIGHTING/NOT FIGHTING AFTER ONE DIES) and how Bob, so similarly Dally but in completely different ways was doomed from the start. That shit breaks me. It means so much to me. And anytime I try to talk about it everyone will just shit on Bob which. Deserved and I agree I’m not saying he’s a good person but also he was also just a kid who got too much of what he didn’t need and never enough of what he did and regardless of whatever moral standing you have with him I WANT TO TALK ABOUT THAT. I WANNA TALK ABOUT HIM

[boysborntodie]

Thinking about changing my icon to Cherry...

[dairyfairyy]

oh baby names from the outsiders are just perfect

saw this on reddit and lost it 😭😭

link to the actual post

[riaki]

i literally cant stop thinkin’ about highschoolbully!gojo who used to be your ride or die ‘til he started getting attention from those popular jock type guys who are always assholes to everyone. and him being.. well, him means he preens under attention no matter who it’s from, so naturally he started to gravitate towards that group and their little troop of cheerleading fangirls. and then he started distancing from you and without either of you really realizing it, you’ve slipped between the other’s fingers. but the way he acts towards you makes you think he let you fall without moving a muscle to slow you down.

soon enough, a year swings by and by the end of it he’s gone from your life, save as just another face in the gaggle of boys who make crude jokes and laugh at smart kids and pop milk cartoons during lunch just for the hell of it. but you’re minding your own business, ‘cause you’re mature enough to realize that people come and go, no matter how close you might’ve been and you think it’s unfortunate that so many memories could be thrown aside in a blink of an eye, but it makes a lot of sense when you walk past satoru and his friends bullying some random kid. you don’t know him, but you’ve heard enough to realize it’s his girlfriend satoru’s flirting with while his ‘gang’ kick at the kid. and it’s sickening, but you don’t say anything when you walk by.

and when you don’t ever see the kid afterward and catch the dark eyebags under his girlfriend’s eyes, you come to the cruel realization that satoru isn’t the boy who’d bandage the scrape on your knee you got from tripping in the playground or buy you a soda because he’s noticed your sweat when you were walking home and you don’t have any money left on you.

it’s a glass half empty, half full type of situation. on the one hand, you don’t have him anymore. on the other hand, you don’t have him anymore. that is, you lost your best friend, but you’ve also lost someone who has the potential to absolutely ruin your life. and you don’t know whether to be glad or not, so you just mind your own business even if it hurts a little when he ignores you, stops tossing paper at your head in class (unless it’s to embarrass you) and stops walking you to and from school.

but the cherry on top of the shit cake is that he doesn't get it. so when he approaches you in the library one day after satiating the need to tear pages from books and make them into paper airplanes to throw at people, he doesn't seem to understand why you try to ignore him, or put off his attempts to hold a convo. but the worst part is that he's just sleazy and clueless about it. it's like he took an eraser and wiped every single year of your friendship off the chalkboard with one fell swipe, and you wish he'd done that too to the less-than-appropriate messages he and his friends had written towards one of your classmates.

he doesn't understand why you're hesitant to talk, and that's what makes it the worst. he always thinks he's in the right, and he keeps setting you off and it sucks that he knows exactly what sets you off. "i'm an asshole? what're you talking about? really, you're in over your head. you never change." he laughs, and you ignore him, and he gets bored, and he's about to leave when he spots your wallet open next to your book, on the table. there's a polaroid peeking out, and he recognizes the tufts of white hair to be him. but there's a weird feeling in his chest, and he thinks he gets it from you, so he leaves because he thinks you're weird.

and it goes on; you practically become a nobody in satoru's eyes, because of that weird, weird feeling you give him. it's unfamiliar and he's never gotten it before and he doesn't like it. but it's unavoidable when your professor pairs you two for the end-of-term project. and of course, you're ready to do all the work, because that's how it always was between you when you were kids. but sometimes he'd surprise you by helping, and he'd show you that he was actually intelligent just to earn your praise because he liked it. but he ignored you, and you did everything, and it would've been okay if not for his friends egging him on to present your entire project when the day came and leave you with no content for a grade.

that's the first time it hits him: does he really want to do that? but it's not like it'll be the first time; you've always taken the hits for him, because you're naturally smart and you'll pick yourself back up in no time, and you get why he does it, so it'll be okay. so he agrees, and he enjoys the time he gets to spend with you through it, but the nagging weird feeling that blooms in his chest like a pesky weed only grows stronger. that's all his feelings ever seem to do around you.

but before you know it, presentation day swings around. you had coffee this morning (on his card), and you're ready enough to shoot him a small smile that sends his heart a-flutter. so you go up, feeling up to the task and ready until— he starts talking, and talking, and talking, and people don't think that he's taking your words out of your mouth because he's intelligent when he wants to make you praise him and you don't get the chance to get a word in and you notice the guys are laughing and hitting each other's shoulders to themselves in the upper rows and before you know it it's over. people are clapping but moreso they're looking at you and they're whispering— but it's terribly loud and they don't bother to hide it. they call you things that shouldn't bother you but they do anyway, because it's satoru's fault, and you're such a fool for thinking you could have it your way again.

so you leave class early, excusing yourself and ignoring the way your professor gives you a distasteful look and scribbles something next to your name. you're out the door in a second, neglecting your bags and satoru's a little lost because— didn't he just do good? people were clapping, and laughing with him and not at him, but it's attention either way so he doesn't mind. so why do you? why did you look at him like he stabbed you in the back? and his friends are calling his name, and he wishes he could chase after you and do something but he doesn't.

and it's a little sickening what they do next; one of their girls grabbed your bags and tossed it to them, and they've started rifling through it as if they own it, tearing up your shit and dumping everything onto the ground and he's kind of just... glued to the chair by his feelings. his heart feels like it's been patched together and the weird fuzzy feeling he had in his chest that's been cultivating has extinguished to be replaced with something he realizes he's only ever felt when it comes to you— guilt.

he's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't realize his friend is silently offering him something— nudging his side to get his attention. he takes it without really realizing he moved his hand, and his silent friend with the gauges in his ears and the dark hair gets up and leaves without another word. when satoru looks down, he realizes he's been given your wallet. "the reward for betraying your baby," they call it. like all you're worth is the money in your account.

he's a little curious. that's how he's always been; asking you questions, rummaging through your stuff, laughing sheepishly and shaking it off when you caught him red-handed. so he opens it up, ignoring your sad little cards and the funny look on your license. he's looking for something, subconsciously; but he doesn't find it. there's no white tuft of hair to suggest his presence in your life; just empty black leather. nothing else.

and he doesn't see you after. or the following day. or the following weeks; weeks that turn into months that turn into the end of school and he's graduating but you're not by his side. and neither are his so called 'friends'; the only thing he has to their name is your own ruined friendship. it's a shame; he feels alone. very alone. no fuzzy weird feeling, not even that thing people call guilt. no attention to chase, and connections are ever harder to make. it shouldn'tve mattered that much, right? it was just a presentation. why wouldn't you just come back to him like you always did? were you not still friends...?

but the blood is still on his hands, and he doesn't manage to ever wash it off. guilt has a way of festering; of weighing on the heart 'till there's nothing left to feel or think but unfortunate circumstance and what could've been done differently. it just sucks that he never tried hard enough to keep you from slipping between his grasp. and now, he doesn't even have a polaroid to your friendship's name.

pt.2

[beachyma]

orange soda.

a. donaldson , you | nsfw |

The quiet sprinkle of evening dew quiets your racing nerves with each pitter-patter splashing against the pavement. You lay rested comfortably on the mattress of your boy-best friend's dormitory. You can hear the quickening hum of his heartbeat as you lay against the headboard. You estimated a near 120 beats each minute. A soft smile tugs on your lips at this realization, gently adjusting your position so that your forearm rests recklessly close to the curve in his aqua tennis shorts. He faintly chokes back a cough, a pink hue tinting his cheeks and nose. You glance up at him warmly, "You need water?" a sarcastic laughs leaves your lips. His flushed-red lips widen into a teethy smile, "It's on my nightstand, if you want to hand it me." You snootily roll your eyes in 'way to brush me off' way, twisting your body to grab the aluminum water that rest on his wooden night stand. "Why don't you get a smaller water bottle- this thing weighs a shit ton Art." You complain, surveying the vividly scattered stickers casually placed on the bottle. He places the water bottle to his lips, taking a sip before leaving it to lay in between his thighs, "I need to stay hydrated." he promptly says. You notice the bob of his adam's apple as he swallows, his jaw flexing to a cast a gentle shadow, lining his chin and neck. You scrunch your eyebrows together in disagreement, "and there aren't smaller water bottle that can do the same thing?" you quiz. His coy gaze softens your facial expression, "No." he denotes. "Doesn't it get heavy carrying around every day?" You urge, grabbing the water bottle, swiftly grazing his inner thigh. The sudden movement causes him to flinch, wincing as the cool metal is subsisted by your thumb and pointer finger. You cock an eyebrow at him, a curious look coats your face, "You good?" His body shifts as he sits up from leaning on the headboard, the wooden bed frame creaking in retaliation. "Yeah, I'm fine." he opposes. His pink-hue is punctuality replaced by a cherry-red tinge. A vivid red tints his face, followed by his neck and hands. He almost looks like he'd be hot to the touch. "Never had a girl touch your leg before?" you sarcastically joked, positioning the water bottle back onto the nightstand. "Shut up." He palms his face in mortification, brining his knees to his chest. "Stop acting like a virgin Donaldson." you tease, gently shoving his shoulder to the side. "Fuck off." he groans in desperation. "Oh I bet you'd love me to do that to you." your index finger playfully tracing the length of his thigh. He can only whine in an effort to retaliate, his skin glowing a deep red. "You can do better than that." you mockingly place your hand on his upper thigh, tenderly messaging the muscle, your fingers working carefully near the leg-holes of his tiny shorts. He whimpers at the contact, jerking his leg to the left. A grin dances across your lips, the grip you have on his thigh loosens. Your fingers begin to sketch the lining of his waistband, gently tugging on the stretchy fabric. You pause, gazing attentively at him for a brief moment, his eyes struggling to meet yours. " Art?" you ask, his stare coming to acknowledge yours, a look of desperation masks his face. "Please." he mutters, voice low and soft. "Please what-" you are interrupted by the warmth of his lips against your nape, his hands trailing down the length of your waist, to your hips. A soft moan escapes your lips, fingers rushing to pull at his blonde locks. You can feel the sensation of a cocky grin tug at his lips while he bruises your neck with his mouth, his hands desperately gripping your hips. "Art-" your voice breaks, husky, and rough. "Shit-", you breathe. Art places gentle kisses from your neck to your jaw, finally meeting your lips with his own. They are soft, and have that generic chapstick flavor. He kisses you with a gentleness you're not used to, like as if he made one wrong move, he would hurt you. That thought brings a warmth to your stomach, its tickling and teasing you.

Art beckons you closer, pulling you to his chest with his bicep. You lean into his muscular body, palming his jaw with your hand. His hands restlessly travels your body, cupping your ass with one hand, and gripping the fat of for waist with the other. You shift your body so that your leg rests between his thighs, and you both are kneeling on the mattress. You groan in the kiss, your free hand trails his clothed abs. He whines at your touch, the veins in his hands pop as he shifts his attention to massage the fat of your ass with both hands. Your body jolts at the sudden gesture, causing friction between Art's thigh and your sensitive bud. You moan instinctively, lips parting from his. A quiet whine of absence leaves his lips, his eyes glare lewdly at you."Do that again." he presses, guiding your hips to move forward. You groan at his words, bucking your hips up to achieve that friction once again. Art remains silent, his grip on your hips tightening each time you move back and forth, the lining of your athletic shorts is the only barrier between skin. "Art-," you breathe, "Fuck." your head falls into his shoulder, your hands resting neatly on either side. He winces when your knee promptly grazes his cock. "Please Art-" you slur, the warm feeling in your stomach is replaced by a tightness, Art needily rocking your hips on his thigh, quiet whimpers of approval every time you moan at the slightest change in pace.

(not proofread + im cooked) 👩🏽‍🍳🥰

[thatbirdrestaurant]

the outsiders characters going through haunted houses

ponyboy is the only one who doesn't try to throw a punch on a scare actor or one of the props. yes, johnny went for a swing.

steve makes fun of ponyboy for getting a little startled then immediately has a much bigger reaction.

two-bit uses darry as a shield from scare actors.

tim and curly are both banned from the haunted house for pulling a knife on one of the actors.

dally is banned for nearly setting a table cloth on fire but he sneaks in so he can keep an eye on ponyboy and johnny.

soda and darry went in telling ponyboy they'll protect him and that he shouldn't be embarrassed for getting scared, and came out gripping his shoulder's looking like they've witnessed a murder.

an actor dressed to look like a zombie looked a little too much like johnny's father and his fight or flight kicked in. ponyboy has to wrap his entire body around him while dally wrestles his switchblade out of his hand.

soda and steve always go through as soon as they can, so they can go back in with cute girls and look brave. two-bit will tag along to point out all the spots they got scared by.

darry accidentally scares the gang because he doesn't make a lot of noise and he's a lot scarier than usual when he randomly emerges from the shadows.

everyone thinks cherry is going to flip out but she comes out completely unphased and complaining about the costume quality. the soc boys she came with are literally shaking in their boots.

ponyboy gets scared by a frankenstein actor then rambles to the gang about how "frankenstein is actually the one who made the monster" and all that nerd shit, and it successfully distracts the gang long enough to get out.

[bluemirrorangel]

Modern outsiders headcanons

Because of the way he acts and dresses Curly gets mistaken for an E-boy.

The gang have a communal Spotify that they all pitch in to pay for.

Darry drives a second hand minivan.

Two bit is banned from the aux cord.

Steve and soda have been dating since freshman year.

Darry had parental locks on pony and soda’s phones until they turned fifteen.

Dally basically lives with the shepherd’s he shares a room with Curly.

Ponyboy and Curly are 'secretly' dating.

They're not allowed to be left alone unsupervised unless they're in public and they're only allowed in ponyboy’s room if the doors open.

Curly sneaks ponyboy into his room at night to just hang out without being constantly watched.

Dally has caught them multiple times and the only reason he hasn’t snitched is because Curly’s bribing him.

The only person Dally really cares about is Johnny.

Dally and Curly both have piercings, dally has an an ear piercing and eyebrow piercing, Curly has multiple ear piercings( he wears fake ear stretchers he stole from Claire’s) snakebites, an eyebrow piercing, a septum piercing all of which they gave each other while drunk the piercings were done with safety pins and needles sterilised with vodka (that somehow didn’t get infected), they also have stick and poke tattoos mainly just of stupid stuff but Curly had the bright idea to get ponyboy’s name tattooed under his collarbone ponyboy thought it was stupid but kinda romantic. Darry did not.

The shepherds are mixed (black and white).

Dally’s platinum blonde but dyes it black. No one knows except curly who caught him dying it black with the hair dye he supposedly stole for Sylvia.

Sodapop and Steve run a TikTok account.

Two bit and Marcia are dating.

Ponyboy writes fanfiction on Ao3 he’s really popular in multiple fandoms. only Johnny knows because he’s his beta reader.

Soda vapes.

Ponyboy had a twilight phase and had a massive crush on Edward.

Two bit starts a YouTube channel for musical comedy like a mix between Bo Burnham and Jon Cozart.

Two bit joins the drama club.

Tim and Darry hang out every Friday just to get out of the house.

Angela ran against Ponyboy for class president she won.

Marcia is part of the drama club that’s how she and two bit met.

Sandy on the volleyball team.

Sylvia runs the school newspaper.

Cherry is captain of the softball team and head cheerleader.

leave a ship or fandom suggestions and I’ll do headcanons for em if you want

[kitmon]

Get Into The Groove | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie finds you dancing while you’re home alone and, unsurprisingly, the sight has him careening into the bottomless gorge that is loving you all over again.

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things, 2022) x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Tags: allusions to sexy times 18+ only, no actual smut, FLUFF cuz I’m a sucka for it, established relationship, reader is explicitly referred to as “girl” and “woman”

Author’s Note: Just an itty bitty thing that came to me a while ago that I jotted down in between work and school :P hope you like it! And if you’d like to enhance the experience listen to Into the Groove by Madonna and Wango Tango by Ted Nugent!

There are few things that Eddie Munson looks forward to in life: a well-planned D&D campaign, a perfectly rolled joint— the premium shit— and getting home to you.

He whistles to himself as he skips up the steps of his trailer, chains and leather creaking with each step he takes and every key he flips in his hand. The entire day he had been anticipating this moment, just as he does every weekday, where he can come home to a warm and secluded trailer, see you and kiss you the same way he did before he left to work— deep and passionate and long enough to make you dizzy— and sink into his worn-in spot on the couch with you under his arm. He smiles at the comforting thought as he pushes the door in, humming under his breath as he steps inside. 

He drops his keys into the ceramic bowl near the door with a clink before he begins peeling his jacket and vest off. His arm is halfway in and out of his jacket as his ears perk at the music trailing down the hall from his room. He finishes shrugging his jacket off, tossing it over the La-Z-Boy before he stalks towards his room, taking care to cushion his steps. As he gets closer he can make out the faint synth and the clap of the drum machine; it’s Madonna, he realizes.

He dips his head to peek through the slit between the door and the frame, eyes glowing with mirth as a wide grin consumes his face.

Only when I’m dancing can I feel this free…

He hadn't expected to find this upon coming home. You’re usually stretched out across the sofa or his bed, mentally marking the bubbles of a quiz inside a Cosmo that Nancy let you borrow or smiling to yourself as you flip through the pages of one of your bodice ripper romances. Instead, from his vantage point, he can see you singing along to the tape that you’ve popped into his stereo, sipping a black cherry Tab as you skip around his room tidying up the cluttered space. You pick up discarded clothes from his floor, pinching that lacy number he stripped off of you that morning and dangling it over your pointer finger as you absentmindedly twirl it around before tossing it into the hamper.

Tonight I’m gonna dance with someone else…

As the song builds to its chorus you drop the clothes you're working with, take one more gulp of your soda and start bobbing your head and shaking your hips. With the way you sway, he can't help but admire how your frame fits under one of his ragged sleep shirts. Your legs are bare and enticing as you prance around with only your underwear on underneath, the reliable lilac pair that you wear flashing at him with every punctuated glide you make down your legs before flipping your hair back. 

Get into the groove,

Boy you’ve got to prove,

Your love to me…

Your voice picks up in confidence and volume. Even if you're not classically trained, you make up for the wavering notes and shifting keys with your enthusiasm as you stomp about his room, shaking your head and shifting your hair as you swivel and cock your hips in a way that has Eddie swooning against the door frame. The door kicks open wider as he watches you, tongue licking at his canine in amusement and adoration.

Your singing subdues into little mumbled harmonies and a few enunciated riffs as you drag your hands from your thighs up your rocking body, your fingers catching the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your ass to offer just a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it glimpse. You writhe like a charmed snake in a wicker basket, your hands meeting over your head as you slither in mesmerizing forms.

You fall away from your dance but maintain the skip in your step and the nod in your head as you bend over and snatch a pair of Eddie's boxers from the floor. You twirl in place, boxers held to your chest as you get lost in the music, shifting your feet to twist you around, eyes closed blissfully.

“At night I lock the doors, where no one else can see— AH!”

You scream, chucking the boxers at Eddie’s head as you’re startled. He ducks as the garment soars over his head and he laughs at your reaction.

“Jesus, sweetheart! You almost took me out with my own drawers!”

“Eddie!” You scold, with wide eyes and a small crinkle between your brows, “You scared the shit out of me!”

You’re clutching your chest with one hand as your breath relaxes but your eyes screw up in mild anger at the fact that he snuck up on you.

“M’sorry! Didn’t want to interrupt the show.”

You groan, your hands crawling over your face as you wince, “You saw that?”

Eddie steps towards you, soothing your embarrassment by rubbing at your arms.

“Mm-hmm, and, if I may say so,” he leans in to whisper into your ear, “it was very sexy.”

You sputter out a giggle at him before taking your hands and pulling at the loose thread along the collar of his t-shirt— perhaps you’re the reason all of his shirts have holes along the collar.

“Of course you would find it sexy,” you tease as your fingers migrate upwards to play with the ends of his hair. “You could watch me floss my teeth and get a semi.”

“Can you blame a guy?” He laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist to draw you closer. “With a girl as smokin’ as you, it’s impossible to keep the little guy down.”

You snort, letting your head fall into his chest as he strokes your hair.

You bask in the silence for a moment, the two of you shuffling your feet and breathing each other in. The song’s ended by now and moved on to another poppy dance number that fades into the background.

“Think you can teach me some of those moves?” He questions into your hairline.

You hum, a smile coating the sound as you lean back to look into his eyes.

“I dunno, don’t think you’re limber enough to pull off some of these crazed gyrations of this rock generation.”

He smiles down at you, leaning close enough to nip at your lips, “I’ll have you know I’m a proper Johnny Castle, baby.” His smile gives way to a contemplative yet amused shape, “And did you just quote Ted Nugent to me?”

You nod your head as a wide grin splits across your face.

“Oh, you don't know what you do to me, woman!”

You squeal as he hoists you up and throws you onto his bed, your head falling back against his pillows as you laugh from the excitement of it. You fall into soft hums of laughter that slip past your throat as Eddie follows you down and climbs up your body, nipping at your calves and thighs, pushing his nose against the hem of your— well, his shirt— to reveal that worn lilac cotton that you make look like a whole Victoria’s Secret set.

“And I’ll show you dancing, I’m quite skilled at Zee Wango, Zee Tango.”

[agrinsosardonic]

Snapshots

(July 5th: Camera)

I found it in the junk draw of the kitchen one summer day. A pink tomb- a relic from the middle of the new millennium. In it, I suspected, phantoms from distant nights haunted its old SD card. And when I connected it to my new laptop, I downloaded one-hundred and fifty rose gold memories. I shifted through each picture. Looked into the pixelated eyes of each person. Dressed in their best Myspace top 8s. Side bangs and cross necklaces. Half of us in tripp pants. The other half in backwards caps throwing up fake gang signs. Then I came upon a picture that has circulated everybody's facebook memories at least once. Each with the same I want to go back! Twenty faces standing infront of a midnight sky. Some friends. Other acquainces. Some friends of friends of friends. Most of us tagged so we relive the same conversation. The remember when…what happened to…we should get together…

And that picture, I actually had developed. And on it, I put X’s over all the people I no longer speak too, and crosses over the ones who died, and bars over the two who got arrested–one for DUI and one for selling oxys to high schoolers ten years after this picture was taken. I put question marks over the ones who left the island and never returned and who managed to scrub their digital footprint from a Google Search. I noted the ones who had kids too early. The ones who became police officers. The ones who became teachers and firefighters.

I circled me. On the far left. In a beanie and Slipknot hoodie with a broken face and hazy eyes and a frown that screamed louder than my voice ever could. And I recognized I was still haunted by his ghost, even thirteen years later. So, I burned the picture in my sink. Let the fire eat away at summer memories. Fill the apartment with the stench of chemicals and flame. Then I thought about tossing the camera in the trash with the rest of my teenage memories. But then I remember I didn’t own this coffin. It belonged to one of the people with a cross over their head.

So I threw it back into the junk drawer to be forgotten. To get dumped into another moving box one day, shuffled across another bridge. To maybe be found thirteen years from now

And the ritual repeats.

[kaciebello]

Strawberries with too many seeds

Masterlist Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem) Percy Jackson x Hades! reader (platonic) Chris Rodriguez x Hades! reader (platonic) Summary: Percy might feel like he is messing up the whole demigod thing, but he sure feels like he has friends here. Warning: Insults( nothing mean, just banter), no use of y/n author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I wrote this while eating blue candy, had to get into the character somehow. Yes I know Chris is unclaimed, Luke calls him brother in a bromance way. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) word count: 1,2k

Percy couldn't help it. He was still feeling down about the amount of times he messed up. He, Luke, and Chris were sitting down at the Hermes table. Chris babbling something about the goddess of failure. Percy wasn't paying attention. 

“Don't worry, we’ll find something you're good at.” Turns to him Luke with a tight lip smile. Then it spreads into a grin as his eyes shift to look behind Percy. He feels a person sitting down next to him with their food. He looks up and sees the Hades girl he met the other day.

“Hello, my little gremlins!” She says with a smile. Percy doesn't have time to react, well not before Chris does.

“Gremlins is crazy.” He says pointing his fork at her. She just chuckles and picks up her fork.

The older boys continue to eat. Percy looks at her a bit confused. From what he learned, claimed kids are supposed to eat at their parents' table. He found the system kinda of dumb, if he wanted to eat with Athena’s kids, he should be able to. Not that he had anyone particular in mind.

“Aren't you supposed to sit at your table?” He asks her confused. She stops in the middle of her bite. She looks at him for a second before returning to her food.

“No cabin, no table.” She says. Percy now remembers that she mentioned that her father does not have a throne on Olympus and, therefore no cabin. It makes sense not to have a table either. He thought he could hear Chris whisper ‘No face, no case’ before Luke slapped his brother on the back of his head. The girl just gives them a side eye and turns to Percy again.

“What are you drinking?” She motions to his drink.

“Cherry cola.” He says

“Why is it blue?”

“ Daamn girl, you can't judge a soda by its color!” Chris says, making a fake gasp and clutching his heart. She just rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Chris receives a slap on his shoulder from Luke.

“Ignore him, Percy.  Chris is just a moron.” She says with a smile.

“I am your brother-in-law to-be!” Defens Chris, leaning over the table to jab his finger in her shoulder. Percy notices a blush on Luke's face before he clears his throat and looks away for a second. The girl just shakes her head and pushes the boy away. An argument breaks out between those two. Percy could swear that he heard a few very creative insults. He looks at Luke who just shakes his head and continues to eat. Percy follows his lead. 

“Sweets, do you want my starberries?” Ask Luke, making the two stop fighting. They both turn to him. 

“Oh yes my darling, thank you.” Answers him Chris and reaches for the few strawberries Luke has set aside while eating. Luke just frowns at him slapping his hand away, pushing his plate to the girl. Chris whines and holds his hand in a very fake hurt-like state. The girl just shakes her head and pushes Luke's plate back. He just gives her a face with a giant question mark on it. She just looks at him dead in the eye.

“I don't think taking a fruit with many seeds from a man is something I should do.” She says and Luke's eyes widen. He gives the thought a second before rolling his eyes.

“I do not want to kidnap you into my secret hideout,” He says not looking into her eyes. 

“Aw, what a shame.” She says teasingly and Luke's head snaps to her. Chris and Percy just laugh.

“Shouldn’t Persephone’s kids worry about that more?” Asks Percy genuinely curious about what other superstitions should he be worried about. He knows that Annabeth does not like spiders because Athena cursed Arachne. Now this. 

“Great question! Let us ask my stepsiblings!” She says and jumps up. She looked around before sitting down.

“That's right, Persephone does not have mortal children.” She explains to Percy. He just lets out a little ah and goes back to eating. Well, more like pushing the food around his plate since he felt embarrassed.

“It's fine Percy, nobody expects you to know who has children and who does not. And it gets tricky when even the maiden goddesses have mortal children, Athena for example.” She says with a kind tone.

“You’ll get the hang of it.” Tells him, Luke, trying to cheer up the younger boy. Percy just nods at his older friends. He hopes to be as skilled as those two one day. The two look at each other with a warm smile. Percy could see the love in their eyes. His mom had the same look when she talked about his dad. He just hopes these two have a happier ending than them. A gaging sound can be heard from one of the chairs. All of them turn to look at Chris, who is pretending to vomit violently.

“ Nurse, please I am feeling a bit sick, all this sweetness makes me wanna puke,” Chris says, clutching to his stomach pretending to be sick.

“I will stuff gauze down your throat if you don't stop” She threatens, going back to their banter. Luke just shakes his head at them and turns to Percy.

“Come on, we need to throw the rest into the bonfire.” Says Luke and the other two get up without another word. Percy wants to ask why, but it is like he could read his face.

“Offering to the gods, they like the smell.” He manages to finish. Percy gives him another confused look so Chris clarifies.

“They like the smell of begging.” He stops and looks at the girl. “ Just as much as she likes the sound it.” He finishes, very proud of his jab. The girl just narrows her eyes and goes to stand in the line. Percy swears he could hear ‘I will bite your head off’ but it was mostly covered by the amused sound Crish made after.

“ Excuse them, Percy, they grew up together, got here together. They have always been like that. You should have seen them when they shared a cabin. It was a nightmare.” Lukes says and follows the two, Percy close behind him.

“Okay little praying mantis, Luke you must be careful. You never know, you might lose your head.” Turns to them Chris and throws the rest of the food to the fire.

“ Have you hurt your head?” She asks before shaking her head.” Why am I even asking, I heard you slam your head on the upper bunk bed the other night.” Chris stops in his tracks and narrows his eyes at her.

“ Why were you in the Hermes cabin?” He asks and she just shrugs and looks away. Percy could see that Luke had gone red once again.

“ I was with Luke, why else Einstein.” She says walking away from all of them. Chris is hot on her toes.  Luke just looks at his feet before placing his hand on Percy's shoulder making him follow those two.

“YOU HAVE A WHOLE ROOM!” Yells Chris making big hand gestures to the girl who looks bored with whatever he is saying. Luke patted his back.

“Welcome to the family kid.” He says before lightly jogging to the older campers and delivering a slap on the back of the head to his brother.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

This might be a hot take but I’m fully convinced that if Ponyboy got injured in the church fire and died in Johnny’s place, that Johnny would still die because he’d be the member of the gang that wouldn’t be able to handle it

I used to think it would be Darry or Soda- and sure, they’d be absolutely devastated. They’d never be the same. But the Curtis boys know loss, they lost both their parents at once and not only survived but bounced back in a relatively short period of time. Losing Pony would be worse and it would take them far longer to move past it, but Soda and Darry have each other and they would survive it.

Johnny though, Johnny couldn’t.

We know what Johnny and Pony mean to one another. Whether you read them as platonic or romantic or a secret third thing there is no denying they are each others person, unquestioningly and irrevocably. We see in the book how depressed Ponyboy is after Johnny’s death, delusional and then nearly catatonic with grief, and he has his brothers and the remainder of the gang watching over him like a hawk. Their support and presence is absolutely constant for a reason, even if Ponyboy’s suicide watch is largely subtextual and glossed over in a few short paragraphs.

Johnny doesn’t have brothers. He has the gang, that are family in all but blood, but Johnny has spent his life looking out for himself. He sleeps in the lot or couch surfs because no one else is going to find a spot for him, and because his own house isn’t safe. But Johnny is depressed. Ponyboy mentions how the greaser lifestyle and his parents’ warring is ‘killing Johnny’ rather than turning him cold and mean. Ponyboy also mentions that the gang is the only thing keeping Johnny from running away from Tulsa altogether, while Johnny literally voices his suicidal thoughts to Pony in the lot. Point is, Johnny’s mental state was already precarious before the events of the novel. Had he, Pony, and Dally all lived through the story Johnny would still struggle tremendously, probably even more than before. If Pony had died Johnny probably still would not have lived to the end of the book.

Johnny is incredibly protective of Ponyboy (even if Pony doesn’t realize it). Throughout the book we see him take charge whenever Ponyboy falls to pieces, comfort him when Ponyboy is feeling embarasssed after meeting Cherry, let Pony sleep on his legs even when Pony put them to sleep and they had to jump off a train. He was ready to run away with Pony no questions asked. He buys Pony a book and cigarettes when they’re on the run and don’t have a ton of money just to make the whole thing easier for Pony mentally. He literally stabs Bob to death for Pony. So imagine what would happen if Johnny went into that church with Pony and was unable to save him?  If they were in that inferno and he saw the beam crash down and helped Dallas drag Pony’s limp body out and it still wasn’t enough? What do you think happens to an already seriously depressed kid when his person- the one person who always understood him without him having to say a word, a boy who was so naive, yet so wise and so desperately kind- dies? What do you think happens when Johnny can’t save the one person he desperately wanted to protect?

It’s simple. Johnny pulls a Dally, and Johnny dies. And then Dally dies too, because he can’t live without Johnny (if it had JUST been Pony who died, Dallas would survive. Dallas cared about Pony- I firmly believe that, but Pony’s death would not affect Dally the same way Johnny’s did. It wouldn’t affect him any LESS but it would affect him DIFFERENTLY- and would not result in his suicide for a myriad of reasons that deserve a whole post of their own.)

But yeah. Had Pony died from the church fire I think Johnny would have died too, and The Outsiders would end with four dead kids instead of three. It is a horrible, inevitable, preventable tragedy, and no matter what variable is changed it will always be a horrible, inevitable, preventable tragedy.

[slowlyoats]

The Lost Boys: What are their indulgences? 

Marko 

strawberry lip balm 

He absolutely despises having chapped lips 

If he’s not careful, during the winter he will end up with raw, chapped lips like an elementary schooler, from licking them to keep them moist

So how did the strawberry lip balm come into play?

He has Paul to thank 

One cold winter evening Marko’s lips were bright red and raw, and Paul of course couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself and pointed out that Marko looked like a clown.

He went on all night coming up with what Marko’s “clown name” should be! 

While Paul was bouncing around the cave shouting out clown names like a maniac, he came across a tin of strawberry chapstick that must have fallen out of the pocket of one of their victims 

He promptly CHUCKED the Tin at Marko’s face and shouted “here! Problem solved bingo the clown!” 

After Marko chased Paul around the cave for a good hour, and David screamed at them to cut it out, Marko tried the lip balm, and the rest is history 

He will only use strawberry, and he doesn’t give a crap what the boys have to say about it because his lips don’t feel like they are going to peel off anymore

unfortunately that brand of lip balm was discontinued for containing lead about 10 years ago, so Marko has had to expand his lip balm horizons 

Paul 

Bracelets 

The boy looks like he belongs in a Christian rock band 

He would wear bracelets up to his elbows if he could!

One of his favorite past times on the boardwalk (besides looking for dinner) is looking through all the vender stalls for new bracelets

This is actually how they met Star! 

She was selling jewelry she made in a stall, and Paul swiped a bracelet from her 

She of course chased after him for it!

She somehow managed to tackle him to the ground 

Paul of course made some cheeky comment about being pinned to the ground 

While Star was distracted by the comment, Paul managed to swipe another bracelet from her wrist 

Paul fanned a fake apology and gave her the original stolen bracelet back 

Star didn’t realize she was missing a bracelet from her person till way later that night 

Dwayne 

cherry coke 

And not the crap that’s in a bottle that you get from a convenience store 

No. He’s talking the stuff you get at a soda shop where they make them to order and mix the syrups and tonics together by hand

Unfortunately, there aren’t a lot of places like this around anymore in the US

Fortunately for him though there is one place on the Boardwalk that sells them 

The candy store on the Boardwalk opened sometime in the 30s, and still has its original soda counter with its resident soda jerk.

The soda jerk is an old timer that’s been working there since he was 14. 

He knows Dwayne’s order without even asking and prepares it for him once he walks in the typically, very, crowded door

Dwayne usually takes his cherry coke to go, since he’s well aware of how people perceive him and the boys and doesn’t want to drive the owner's customers away

David 

petting dogs 

(I know I know this one is weird but hear me out!)

David is viewed as the tough, scary leader of the lost boys, and he’s not complaining about that. In fact, he LOVES seeing the fear in people's eyes when him and his boy's role in every night on their bikes. 

But, when he sees a chonky, Basest Hound wobble its way down the Boardwalk with its human, the man cannot resist giving that good boy or girl a nice pet on the head 

Doing this is tricky though, since most people (especially the locals) take one look at him and cross to the other side of the street 

And, not to mention dogs can sense vampires and identify them as predators pretty quickly 

So, he has to be tactful 

He waits till the owner is distracted, and the boys are definitely NOT AROUND (he has a reputation to uphold!) and sneaks over and gives that dog some nice pets 

Or if the dog is off lease, he will lure the dog over to him with a hot dog he found on the ground or trash 

This of course is if the dog will even go near him. Like I said before dogs can sense that there is something UP with the boys and tend to keep their distance, and, or will bare their teeth to protect themselves and their owner 

I think David’s love for dogs comes from when he was a child

He grew up in a family that bread dogs for extra cash, and he misses being able to sleep in a dog pile every night like he did when he was a child 

*Cough cough* which is why the boy's sleeping arrangements is the way it is. 

[ramennoodlezzzao3]

outsiders modern AU head cannons

The gang would absolutely FORBID Ponyboy or Johnny to take an Uber or lift, they said they had to call one of them if they didn’t have a way home. It’s “Dangerous” to get into an Uber because it’s a stranger (I have a finished, unpublished one-shot about Ponyboy in this situation if yall want me to post it 🤭)

Darry refuses to get messenger or Facebook. He uses Life360 and the built in phone app to message Sodapop and Pony. He eventually got messenger so he could be apart of the group chat.

Ponyboy has several secret social media accounts. He posts on them and has quite the following, but has practically blocked every member of the gang so they can’t watch him.

Darry watches the news all the time unless someone changes it

Dally can’t count how many times he’s broken his phone

Two-Bit orders DoorDash just so he can get beers delivered. He also has to buy any soda of pony’s he drank

(Not really a modern HC but it’s a HC) Ponyboy actually HATES Pepsi, but he drinks it because people often buy it for him without asking what he wants. His favorite soda is actually Dr. Pepper, specifically the cherry flavored

Ponyboy used vapes instead of cigarettes to try and quit smoking. Steve was the one who found out and literally destroyed all of his vapes so that pone didn’t get sick

Sodapop uses instagram a LOT. He doesn’t have a huge following, less than pony has on TikTok, maybe around 5K followers? But he notices the pictures he posts with pony get LOTS of likes and views and he always gets so confused as to why

Johnny knows virtually every single TikTok dance known to man

Johnny and Ponyboy watch horror movies together (Johnny knows way to much about murder and scares everyone)

Ponyboy has a soft boy style while everyone else is literally leather jackets and jeans. He literally is the color in the gang

Two-Bit talks in TikTok language and that’s it. He will say stuff like “Chat” and “Cap” and Ponyboy is the only one who fully understands what he is even saying

[ambrozjas]

hiii, could you maybe do a fic, or just headcannons of ponyboy and his fem!s/o getting caught cuddling by the gang??

That would be sooo cute🙏🙏🥺🥺

all pony could hear was your heartbeat, thumping loudly against his ear as he rested his head on your chest.

your fingers found their way into his hair, tangling themselves in a sea of brunet, his hair not greased per your request.

you always liked when ponyboy had his hair with no grease, just wanting to play with it and twirl the little curls that would form around his forehead.

his arms were wrapped around your midriff, squeezing occasionally as he dozed off, producing small hums in the process.

you leaned your head against pony’s pillow. the soft material feeling like heaven once your head had hit it, you looked down at pony and saw his eyes trained on you, his head lifted now.

his big brown eyes were glossy and half lidded with sleep. you desperately fought your closing eyes in order to admire ponyboy some more, before you two heard his bedroom door open and a whistle appear in the doorway. pony’s face went white.

“woah, ponyboy! didn’t know you was gettin’ it on in here!” steve said with sodapop laughing right behind him.

you rolled your eyes as pony threw himself off of you, his face turning a cherry red when the boys shouted and whooped.

but your heart absolutely dropped once you hear the heavy, solid footsteps coming down the hallway into pony’s room.

you practically shit yourself seeing darry stand in the doorway, smacking soda and steve on the back of their necks and nagging at them to retreat.

“c’mon, give ‘em space.” he said, pushing them away a bit. steve grumbled as he staggered away, soda hot on his heels. darry turned to the both of you, raising his eyebrows and pointing his finger in a warning manner, before leaving the door cracked and going back to the living room.

you’re convinced your heart palpitated for a moment, but once you looked at pony, you laughed. you pushed your hair back as pony awkwardly looked around and gave you a half-hearted chuckle, his cheeks dusted a still red.

these small moments, although embarrassing, were the ones you cherished most with ponyboy.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ UGHHH I LOVED WRITING THIS REQUESTTT THANK YOUU 🫶🫶

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[somethingheavenknows]

gaming chair

pairing: matt sturniolo x (female) reader

genre: SMUT smut smut smut

summary: matt’s been gaming for too long, and you’ve grown impatient.

tags/content warning⚠️: swearing, lots of pet names- especially princess, daddy!matt, soft dom!matt, slight subspace! reader, mentions of body consciousness, begging (both ways 😏), praise, fingering, riding, mentions of cockwarming and oral (female receiving).

everyone asked for nasty… so here you go.

nsfw content below the cut. i’m not your mother, but either way, proceed with caution.

——————————————————————————

he had to be doing it on purpose. there was no other explanation. matt was sitting there to taunt you. his t-shirt hung from his shoulders so nice, like it was the comfiest and most stealable shirt in the world. those threadbare grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, the band of his boxers poking out like a feast for your eyes, and he sat with his legs spread wide. that spot right on his lap looked perfectly sized for you to take a seat, and you wanted to so badly.

     "are you almost done?" you squeaked from the bed. you've been watching him play video games in that irresistible state for three hours now, and you were starting to get needy. that stupid game. you wanted his attention back.

     "yeah, almost. do you need something, love?" matt replied.

     "mhm," you hummed, "jus' bored... that's all."

     matt's posture straightened right out at your tone, and he made quick work of saving his progress and exiting out of the game. his brain shuffled so quickly through the process that he nearly knocked his soda can off the desk in his frenzy. the boy swiveled around in his chair and smiled, his eyes hazing over dreamily as he took a look at you. you were snuggled up in his pillows and holding the teddy bear he'd won you at a fair some time ago so tightly, smiling back. you batted your eyelashes, knowing how he loved the way they fluttered. a little pair of sleep shorts squeezed your bottom, nothing beneath them, and you wore a big black t-shirt that he wanted nothing more than to take off.

     "come here, then. what are you waiting for?"

     you put down your teddy and crawled to the foot of the bed, swinging your legs down and hopping off. he slid down in his gaming chair for you and patted his lap, which you clambered into with ease. you felt a bit self-conscious on top of him this way.

     "m'not too heavy, right?"

     "course not, love. you're perfect. just right," he tucked a lock of silky hair behind your ear.

     the boy ran his hands up and down the sides of your body, committing the curves of your lovehandles and hips to memory. you locked your palms behind the back of his neck and twisted the tawny curls around your fingers. his hair was so soft, and growing so long. so grabbable.

     "you're so pretty, angel. such a pretty girl."

     "really?"

     "really, darling. absolutely. god, just look at you."

     he craned his neck up and you closed the gap, pressing your lips to his. he kissed you soft, and you felt your entire body fizzle like a live wire. he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, asking you sweetly for permission, and you answered by parting your lips and letting him inside. the kiss grew heated then, his tongue tying knots with yours like you were one big cherry stem. your hands pressed flush to his chest, balling up the fabric of his shirt. the rough pads of his fingers toyed at the hem of your top with uncertainty, and then he decided to do it; he slipped his palms right under and began to run them all across your stomach and your waist, playing with the baby soft skin.

     "fuck," he groaned into your mouth, "so pretty, baby. can't get enough of you."

     "need you, matty," you mumbled, feeling yourself slipping into a familiar, cushion-like headspace already. you always melted like this when matt touched you; something about him was so all-consuming, so intoxicating, so safe, that you fell away, your awareness blurred at the edges where his lips kissed and his voice deafened. he made it so easy to let go.

     "need me, huh? want me to touch you, pretty girl?"

     "mhm."

"where, babe?"

you let out a grumble of frustration, drawing out a lengthy, "matty, come on..."

     "lost your words, huh? want me to do it all for you, princess?"

     in a beg barely above a whisper, you agreed. "please,"

     you ground into his lap, which pulled something reminiscent of a growl from matt's lips. he trapped your hips beneath his strong hands and helped you stay steady as you drew big swooping circles on him. there was a pit in your stomach, and it was trembling, climbing to a crescendo slowly as you felt the pressure of him through his pants.

     he wasted no time in pushing his hand down the front of your sleep shorts, sliding his long fingers across the skin. his fingers were just warm enough, and you shivered when his calculative touch reached the wet patch between the fabric and you. 

     "christ, already so wet for me," he teased with a smirk, that plush bottom lip pouting like some sick joke. "were you thinking about me while you sat behind me, love? watchin’ me play? thinkin' 'bout what i would do to you once i was done?"

     you nodded, letting out a soft whine as he teased your entrance with his fingers. a string of dopey "yes"s spilled over the chasm of your lips, beginning to swell from how hard you bit down.

     "what a bad girl you are," matt's voice grew dark, "thinkin' of me touching you when you're right behind me. about how good i'd feel inside you, how i can make you feel. oh, love," he sighed, like you were unredeemable, like he could never fix this part of you. he clicked his tongue condescendingly, "surprised you didn't touch yourself back there when i wasn't looking."

     "mm-mmm," you shook your head, "w-wanted to save it for you."

     "that's my girl. such a good girl, waiting for me. you deserve to feel so good, angel. gonna make you feel so good."

     there was no warning when his fingers plunged deep, curling inside of you like a hook. your moan escaped so lewdly that you flushed with shame, burying your face in his neck. he chuckled as he carefully began dancing his two strongest fingers, the middle and the ring, back and forth at a torturously slow pace; even through your shorts you could hear the noises coming from the center of your hips, and you whined. matt was in a different kind of heaven as you were dripping all over his hand.

     "fuck, baby, look at you."

     you began to work yourself on his fingers, fucking yourself with him like a toy. he hummed as you twisted around and around on his palm, and he dove for your collarbone, sucking hard on the sensitive skin and leaving sloppy kisses all across your chest.

     "feels so good, daddy," you whined into the searing skin of his cheek, and you felt the muscle bunch up in a smile.

     "there she is. my pretty baby," he cooed, eyes nearly rolling back at his nickname. he loved when you let it slip, because it always did, no matter how hard you tried to hold it back. “look how sweet you are, all worked up from my fingers. daddy can't wait much longer, princess,"

     "p-please do it."

     "words, baby, words."

     "fuck me, please. right here in the chair. right in your chair, daddy, please."

     that was all he needed you to say. he pulled his fingers out and lifted you up so he could shimmy his sweatpants down just enough. if your eyes were open, you’d have gasped at his size, but they were screwed shut so tightly as the emptiness in your stomach begged to be filled again. tauntingly, he dipped his fingers back inside you and coated them with the taste of you, pressing them on your tongue like a treat before using the leftovers to slick himself. then, he grabbed your hips and lined himself up, and he helped you lower yourself down. and like the good girl he promised you were, you took him all the way.

     "so tight, princess," he moaned, "so fucking tight, oh my god- can't believe you sat back there and thought about me fucking you. should've spoke up, love, i needed you so bad. i was thinking about it too."

     he guided you back and forth and you followed his rhythm, riding him slow and deep. you felt like you might fall apart on him, unravel like a teddy with a loose stitch.

     "thought about fucking you until your eyes rolled back, y’know. about takin’ you with my headset on, so all my friends could hear you moaning for me, screamin’ my name. thought about your tight little pussy the entire time- fuck, angel, you feel so good- faster, princess, please,”

     you followed orders, and your moans turned into faint whispers of screams. he kissed all over your chest and neck as you called out for him, your hands buried in his hair and tugging so hard it made his eyes roll.

     "fuck! faster, princess, faster! you're gonna make me cum, angel, please!" he whined, burrowing in your chest and heaving his hot breath across your skin. you twisted and turned as fast as you could handle, addicted to the fullness, how he felt like such a perfect fit. "baby, please! please, please, please!" he babbled, all high and desperate. it turned you on so much that he couldn't help but beg you to make him cum.

     "fuck, mat- i- oh, daddy,” your head lolled, and you struggled to keep your pace. matt’s strong palms stitched to your sides, giving you some much needed encouragement. feeling the heat in your stomach burning like fire, you croaked, “m'gonna... god, i’m...!"

     "cum for me, princess. cum all over me. jesus christ, you’re… fuck, that’s it, angel, don’t stop. keep fucking going.”

     it only took a few more snaps of your hips until you crumbled. and in a way, it was sort of like having an exorcism. you twitched and trembled against his body, almost watching yourself from afar as your entire body buzzed, pulsated; you tugged his hair so hard you feared ripping some out. you rode him even longer, through the sensitivity, because it was all too good to stop. the boy came only moments after you did, and there was so much of it you felt it running, dripping everywhere in a mess. you moaned wildly into his neck, imprinting toothy love bites behind his ear, and he sat there and took it, nipping and praising you.

     "good girl. that's my good fucking girl. came so hard for daddy, princess, my pretty girl," he cooed, "can't believe you sat there... so cute how bad you need me inside of you all the time."

     you kissed him hard, your teeth clashing and your hands all over his body as you sat on his cock, keeping him warm. he patted your bottom and smiled strangely, like he had a new plan. he told you, "i'll help you get up, love. want you to lay down for me." 

     "hmm?" you asked, fighting through the haze in your head.

     "oh, m’gonna eat you, princess. lay back for me, love, and i'll do all the work. want you to cum all over my face this time,” he muttered, catching your swollen bottom lip between his teeth and tugging just gently enough to allow butterflies to crawl up your spine. “who do you love, hm? who, baby?”

“you, daddy,” you whispered, seeing stars.

“mhm. that’s right. and daddy loves you. now, lay down.”