#falling apart at the seams actually

[somebluemelodies]

okay i need to get this out of my system please bear with me

CELLBOIER IRL CELLBOIER IRL CELLBOIER IRL

[starry-bi-sky]

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

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

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

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

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

[sun-snatcher]

i need need NEED a blurb of Shay and Haytham reacting to Cormac!reader and Connor being young kids in love. I can just imagine Haytham watching Shay have the worst time of his life watching them 😭😭

( all credits to @ginaunderthesea for this lovely gifset! )

✠ | debonair ; f!cormac!reader

a/n. Ask & you shall receive! Have a quick blurb of Shay being an exasperated father 🤲🏼 (& Haytham being a proud lil’ shit LOL)

“You have to admit,” Haytham shrugs, “That was rather charming, what my boy said. Unexpected as it is.”

Shay turns his head so slowly it’s borderline ominous.

“Suddenly the wean’s ‘your boy’, then, aye?” he scowls, face like a growing storm. “Now is a terrible time to be impressed by him, Haytham.”

“If I were to claim my son completely incapable of charm, I’d be lying. And I don’t make a habit of lying to myself,” the Grandmaster says, sounding uncharacteristically proud, of all things. “I’m rather delighted to know Connor isn’t so hopeless. Atleast we know now he’s inherited some of my debonair traits—”

“Oh, I ought’a end the Kenway bloodline where y’stand,” Shay bites, shouldering past him with a scoff. “Keep your boy away, Haytham, or I’ll make true my word.” 

The threat is a poor attempt, serves more like fuel to the fire. “Ah, yes, I could try. But even then, your darling dearest daughter wouldn’t approve, no?”

Shay stops in his tracks. Shuts his eyes and faces skyward, in an impatient, hushed mutter.

“Lord above, give me strength,” he exhales, rubbing a palm over his face after a string of incoherent Gaelic. “I refuse to be victim by this. Don’t encourage the boy.”

“Come now, don’t be—” dramatic, Haytham very nearly says, before catching himself short at the whipcrack of a malevolent look Shay had shot him. “—unreasonable,” he tries instead. “It was a harmless compliment from Connor.”

“Harmless!” Shay waves an exasperated hand. “She was blushing,” he glowers. “Over a bloody sentence!”

“She’s a girl.”

Then, amending himself, “A woman, actually.” Haytham points out, barely able to contain the amusement in his tone. “Capable of making her own decisions, like falling for an eligible, handsome, young man—”

“I am going to shoot you, Haytham Kenway.”

[stupidlittlespirit]

oh my GODDD I just finished the second chapter and I’m yet again on the edge of fainting (mostly joking). It just keeps getting better and I’m SO excited for more. That was a full course meal oml

The urge to shake Ford violently <33

Ahhhh thank you I'm so glad you enjoyed it! That chapter really gave me a lot of problems so I'm still not happy with it and I was worried people would hate it.

Bad and naughty Fords get put in the Nerd Wiggler to atone for their crimes. He will be dealt with.

[androgynouspenguinexpert]

ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵘᶜᵏᶦⁿᵍ ᵏᶦᵈᵈᶦⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ

[prince--kiriona]

fashion discourse on this site drives me insane because on one side you have liberals going "we need to Retvrn to the time when every single garment was handmade by tailors hand sewing every stitch and you should all pay 400$ for a dress." and on the other side you have marxists going "industrialisation and the accessibility of fashion is Not A Bad Thing what are you on about. it's actually fine that a blazer costs 20$" and like.... the second group is *closer* to being correct, obviously, but also. the first group isn't wrong when they say that current mass-produced fashion is by and large Terrible and some hand sewing should be brought back into it??

[randum-famdoms]

Fuck it we writin

[sortanonymous]

Spoilers for TDI 2024 Episode 10

This may be the first time I've rooted for the villain to get their way in Total Drama. Like, go Julia! Please put an end to this bland, sorry-@$$ excuse of a couple!

[godzexperiment]

him enjoying the heaviest boots, in hopes of being weighed down even a little by them (more clunky=maybe he'll make noise when he walks or stomps even if doesn't quite work out 99% of the time) possibly weighing them down more with modifications this is to say nix has never thought much about them, or people touching/tripping over them and things like 'woah these are so heavy you can't seriously walk in those.'

[asterdeer]

video called "pirate shirt tutorial that actually makes sense" with a thumbnail clickbaitingly copying bernadette banner's style, which does the exact same thing as bernadette banner's video but more confusingly and without a diagram in the video itself, also failing to understand that bernadette banner's channel is primarily a history channel and not a sewing tutorial channel so telling people they don't have to hand-sew the pirate shirt or they don't have to thread-pull is unnecessary because bernadette banner literally said "do this however you want, i just do it this way because it's how i learn about historical dress practices" in her own video. couldn't ask for better youtube entertainment

[marsixm]

super super super cool how like every other week now the temperature rapidly changes 20+ degrees overnight and i have a headache all day

[calamitys-child]

I fucking despise when things fake being higher quality than they are. I don't mean like slapping a slightly misspelled brand name onto an identical non-designer product for purely aesthetic reasons I mean like rivets or thread that are actually glued down rather than punched or stitched. Fake pockets on jeans that are actually just an extra seam. Heavy looking chain that's plastic or very soft flimsy metal rather than anything sturdy. I bought boots which looked like they had a stitched sole 8 months ago and lo and behold the glue holding the sole on is revealing itself by falling apart. You PUT a STITCH IN THERE. YOU HAD THE NEEDLE AND THREAD. AND YOU DIDNT ACTUALLY STITCH DOWN THE FUCKING SOLES. Oh it makes me so mad. Cheap cunts taking the aesthetics of durability or practicality while handing you a product that won't last you the year

[felixknow]

✩｡°⋆ C. Warming Big D. B. Chan ⋆｡°✩

y/n + “ you” pronoun; “cunt” but no specific anatomy mention for y/n though it leans afab bc of the mention of being "wet" though that could be implied self-prep!!!!; i tried to make chan’s partner gender ambiguous (: slight bratty reader, no prep by choice, established relationship

18+ ONLY, I do not write for kids, do not interact w my acc in any way if you're not an adult.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but you do.

It had been a long day of work after an even longer week. Normally it would have been fine for you to come home and crash, but when it’s the only day Chan has had off in two weeks, it sucks.

Not that he minds, though. Really, he doesn’t. Seeing your cheek cutely squished into the arm of the couch, and hearing your soft breaths and little noises while you sleep makes him happy. 

It’s just… he wishes you were awake to help him out.

It’s been days since you’ve seen each other, and while you’ve had plenty of phone calls and face times, but to have you physically… 

Chan sucks in a breath and sinks lower in the couch, spreading his legs to try to avoid his cock getting much friction between his legs. It’s hard-- painfully so-- but he can’t make himself wake you up. You’d told him once that it’s a good sign that you both get sleepy when you’re together, it means you’re comfortable and safe together. And you deserve the sleep after having such a tough week, and you’re so deep in your nap and--

“Ahh,” he hisses, bunching his fists up on his thighs. Fuck, the look of your mouth hanging open, your cute lips… if he could just be a little more bold, you probably wouldn’t mind if he woke you up…

No, he can’t. You need the rest, clearly.

Fuck, but now that he’s spread his legs apart, your feet are pressed to the side of his thigh, and even that innocent touch feels like it’s setting him on fire.

Fuck, he thinks. I’ve gotta calm down or I’ve gotta move.

So he tries to move, and he tries to be careful but you suck in a deep breath when he tilts away from you, and when he looks over, your sleepy eyes are open and peering over at him.

“How long have I been asleep?” Your voice is so god damn precious, all sleepy and pouty and soft. Fuck.

“Uhhh… Half an hour? I don’t-- I’m not sure actually, I--”

“Channie?”

Oh shit. Of course your eyes caught the tent in his pants, he wasn't even trying to hide it. Somehow he feels embarrassed about it even though you’ve seen it plenty of times, but for you to wake up after being so vulnerable with him sitting right there like this--

“Do you need some help?”

He doesn’t have the willpower to say no.

“I was gonna let you sleep, baby. I wasn’t trying to wake you up.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, sitting up slightly and turning so your back is against the arm of the couch. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and stretch your tense shoulders and neck.

“You can sleep. Why don’t you get some more rest? I’ll be okay.”

“No,” you whine, “I want you.” You reach out for him, and yeah, there’s no fucking way he can say no now.

“Okay,” he says, scooting toward you. He groans softly at the feeling of his boxers and pants shifting against his aching crotch, and you have the nerve to giggle at him.

“You think it’s funny?” he asks playfully, reaching up to pinch your cheek. “You’ve been all cozy and sleepy and I’m so hard it hurts, baby.”

“Let me help you then,” you coo, sliding your hands down his chest. Your voice drops and you all but purr your next words. “I wanna cockwarm you.”

“Mm, I’d love if you did.” He rests his hands on your knees, fingers moving back in forth in a gentle scratch. “D’you wanna go to my room?”

You shake your head.

“Want you now, right here.”

“But what if Jeongin comes home, baby?”

“Don’t care,” you mutter, words slurring from a mix of remaining drowsiness and desire. You reach out and pull him in by his biceps until he relents and his hands latch onto your upper thighs, his thumbs brushing ever so gently against the seam of your pants. Your legs part, and his hands drift higher, blatantly teasing over your crotch.

“Mm… If you’re sure.” His voice is just above a whisper as he leans in, head tilted, eyes heavily lidded. His full lips brush yours, just barely. Not enough.

Your arms wrap around him, one hand sinking into his soft hair, the other pressed flat against his broad shoulder. Once again your actions lead him further, pulling him in, entranced. His kiss is heavy against your lips but soft to the touch. You kiss him back lazily, savoring every touch he gives you. His lips on yours, his hands starting to work you free of your pants.

You help then, pulling them and your underwear down in one movement, leaving it behind your knees. Sinking lower into the couch, you present yourself to him this way.

“Put it in.”

“Baby,” he chuckles, dipping his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts. “You need to be stretched first. Let me eat you out, yeah?”

“No.” You shake your head and frown at him. “I want it. Put it in, Channie. Please.”

“Y/N,” he says in warning, but you huff and reach down, shoving at his hands to make him hurry up.

“I want to feel you. I like it tight sometimes. Don’t you?”

“Oh, baby,” he sighs-- or is it another wanting hiss?-- leaning in close once more. “It’s always tight. So fucking tight and hot for me, aren’t you?” His breath fans across your face, and you give a small mewl of interest and try to catch his lips with yours.

“You need to let me stretch you,” he whispers so close that your lips brush together.

“No.”

“Baby.”

“No,” you whine. “I want you to work me open on your cock. Don’t tell me no, Channie. I want it so bad.”

“So bad, huh?” He fidgets a little, and when you hear the quiet rustling of fabric, you know you’ve got him. “How ‘m I gonna tell if you’re wet if you don’t want me to finger you first?”

“Don’t care.”

He laughs softly in your face and drops his head to your shoulder.

“Mmm, you’re being a bit of a brat today, huh? ‘Don’t tell me no.’ ‘Don’t care.’ What’s gotten into you?” You’re slightly distracted by the wet trace of his tongue against the side of your throat, but you manage an answer.

“I’m tired and I want you inside me before I start screaming.”

“Screaming?” he laughs again. “I can make you scream, baby. But that’s not what you mean. Are you needy? Want me that bad?”

“Need you, Channine,” you whine, squirming, trying to get your cunt closer to him. Your cheeks touch his thighs, and you can’t help the twitch of desire you get from knowing his cock is so, so close. “Stop teasing me and let me hold you.”

“Hold me?”

“Cockwarm you!” You snap with no venom.

“Okay, okay!” He laughs again against your neck. “Don’t get worked up, baby, I’m gonna give it to you.” He peppers kisses up your jaw as you blindly reach for his dick. When your fingers nearly grasp it but fail to get purchase, he moans with a breathy ahhh.

“Fuck, c’mere.” Chan takes your hand and spits into it, then guides your hand in place. You wrap your fingers around his thick shaft and rub his spit upward, smearing it on his head as much as possible.

“Ahh, your hands are so nice.”

“Mm?” You tug slightly, pointing him toward your cunt, and he jolts and groans and finally, finally, finally gives you what you want.

His fat tip prods at your hole, dipping in just barely, pulling back, pushing a tiniest bit further to test how far he can realistically get with just the slick of his spit to start. But once he’s gotten past the widest point of his head, your warm, wet cunt flutters around him, he has to fight back every urge he has to bury himself completely.

“Ohh, fuck,” he sighs. “You’re so wet, huh? You like the idea of cockwarming me that bad?”

“Yes.” You nod frantically and try to push down onto him, but you’re pinned between the armrest and Chan and fuuuck is that a good place to be. “More, more, please. Just do it, slide in until I tell you to stop.” 

You expect him to play the concerned boyfriend and ask if you’re sure, but it seems he’s finally thinking with his other head.

“Yeah, fuck.” He nestles one knee between you and the back of the couch, and the other leg hangs off the edge of the couch to give him the leverage to move as he plunges deeper. As deep as he is in lust, he keeps a careful ear trained on the sounds you make. The whimpers, the gasps, the way your breath catches in your throat.

“Hold on,” you say with your face scrunched up and a hand pressed to his chest. He takes your hand in one of his, raises it to his face and kisses your palm.

“You’re so good to me,” he mutters. “You take it so well.”

You breathe through the pinching pain, and as it subsides you grab for Chan’s sides, balling your fists in his t-shirt.

“It’s good.” Your mouth mushes the words together and you have to try again so he can hear you properly. “It’s good. I’m good. Keep going.”

“More?” he asks, but without waiting for a response he hovers over you with his lips to your forehead, and you feel that uncomfortable, nagging pinch of there not being enough god damn room.

“You’re so fucking big,” you dry sob, and he stops again.

“I thought you could take it, huh? You’re the one who said no. You said you wanted it tight.”

“I do, I do.” Your arms latch around him, not leaving any room for him to pull away. “I want it.”

“Just a little more then, okay? Then we can watch a movie or something, yeah?”

You nod and close your eyes tight.

Breathe in. Relax, relax, relax.

Out.

In. Relax, relax.

Out.

“You’re so good to me,” he says again. You know he’s finally done by the way he nuzzles into your neck and sighs contentedly. “D’you wanna lay down?”

“Not yet,” you mutter. “Like feeling surrounded by you.”

“Mmkay.” He sounds tired now, but you can hear the smile in his voice. “Did I mention I love you?”

“You love cockwarming.”

“Mmm… says the one who wanted to do it so bad.”

[dmitriene]

inspired by @suimon thought.

cw: filth, cum, really pussydrunk simon.

simon ghost riley had decided to grow a moustache, the change of appearance, albeit sudden, seemed like a good emough idea to him during his next shave, he had only recently returned home from deployment, and his patchy stubble had grown enough to form a small beard, surrounding his lips and running up his sharp jaw, covering his pale skin with darkish, coarse hairs, the shaving of which was a relief, refreshing his face, however, when he had only a small part above his upper lip to trim, his hand lingered in the air, and he changed his mind.

“you look silly, si”

was the only response you offered, which wasn't actually true, on the contrary, his smooth, well groomed, and thick mustache enhanced his appearance, making him look even more stern and rugged, stirred a certain lump of feelings within you, compelling your legs to cross in response to the warmth that began in the pit of your belly and radiated outward, suffusing your limbs with a gentle, yet insistent heat, kindling in your cheeks, making your eyes flicker across his face and body with a familiar, bashful anxiety that simon recognized all too well, his thinned lips curling into a broad, sharply fanged grin.

simon is sure that he can convince you otherwise, or at the very least, acknowledge the reality that you have been keeping buried beneath your rapidly expanding ribcage, which will eventually turn out as sporadic keens and whimpers tumbling from gasping mouth, because it is not at all that difficult to nudge his face between your trembling thighs, lay down between your spread legs, calves gripped by his tightly grasping, scarred fingers, not allowing them to snap shut, his lips preoccupied by being put against your cunt.

parting your folds with his tongue, already soaking and slick with ooze of your arousal, tangy, sweet lasting taste smearing against his moustache, hole fluttering against the tip of his curling tongue, teasing over the pulsing entrance, no words remained in your thoughts or mouth, devolving into clear, need brimming hiccups, hips spasming, grinding down to meet the pistoning of his tongue, the ocassional mouthing on the exposed, soft skin of your thigh, quivering beneath at the rasp of his facial hair, before you were arching into his open lapping mouth again, slowly falling apart at the unraveling seams, panting for more, not enough, too good.

it'll leave the tang of you on his tongue and face for a long time, drench him in the cum and sweat, syrupy sweet, unwilling to scrub it off, a permanent reminder of the way you taste, which simon shares with you, crawling up to plunge his still slick coated tongue in your waiting mouth, making you swallow, gasp and moan around insistent, swirling muscle, mapping around, grunting around the weak sob you let out, sound wet with spit, and pulling away to meet your dazed, bleary gaze properly, he knows the mustache would have to linger.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[chelseeebe]

yours, forever

18+ mdni. smut. mean!exhusband!eddie;) breeding kink if you squint a lil

a/n: i was not expecting to post again so soon but this genuinely couldn’t wait lol. i have another parts to this little piece so lmk if you’d like to see it. someone posted a really really good exhusband!eddie fic like a month ago and ive lost it, but they inspired this entire thing!

^it was this post by @madelynraemunson !!!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

eddie wasn’t expecting to find you standing on the other side of the door, nor had he expected you to barge right past him and into his kitchen. 

you seemed to show up with zero rhyme or reason, typically wanting something from him. 

that was fine, appreciated even. 

he just wasn’t a fan of you waltzing into his home with the sole purpose of talking about your pig of a husband. 

“david wanted me to ask you if he could take the kids up to washington to see his parents,” you stand awkwardly at the kitchen island, his apartment a shell of the house you once owned together. 

eddie pauses, launching the dish towel onto the counter and laughs, deep and gravely as he swings back around, “no.” 

“why not?” you huff, blinking expectantly at your petulant ex. he’d always been a sucker for your eyes, divorce couldn’t changed that. 

“because i said so,” leaning against the marbled counter, “he asked you to ask me and i said no, that’s it. done.” 

“you’re being stubborn,” crossing your arms over your chest, scolding in the way you talk to him. 

“i don’t care.”

“eddie,” stepping forward. 

“sweetheart,” his tone disapproving as he also steps up, closing the gap between you, “no,” enunciating the word in hopes that you’d actually understand now. 

“don’t be an asshole,” you frown, a couple years ago you’d pout and get your own way but now eddie found great satisfaction in telling you no.  

“i’m not being an asshole, you asked me a question and i answered, dave can go to washington, but you and my kids can’t,” his lip twitching into a dastardly smirk. any minute now you’d crack, really let loose on his ass. 

“oh, so now i can’t go? who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?” poking your sharp finger into his chest, a fury behind your eye that almost instantly made him hard. 

“the father of our kids? or have you forgotten about that?” 

“unfortunately not,” rolling your eyes, nonetheless you make no effort to leave, your bag already on the counter, signifying that what he assumed would happen next was definitely going to happen next. 

“you don’t mean that,” sidling closer, trapping your body between the counter and his chest, “because if you did, you wouldn’t let me keep fucking the shit outta you.”

eddie’s rock solid now, this was foreplay for him, getting high off of the way you argued with him, degrading him right to his face. 

“shut up,” rolling your eyes to the back of your head, fingers curling into the hem of his shirt, “you’re so pathetic,” glancing down at his boner now pressing against your cunt. 

“mmhmm,” he wouldn’t fight it, in fact, he’s proud of it, “only for you though,” finding your hips, palming at the doughy flesh. 

your lips twitch and he knows he’s won this fight, planting your lips to his, a firm hand on his chest just to remind him who was really in charge. 

sighing into your mouth as you move against him, his hands running beneath the seam of your skirt, feeling his way up the backs of your thighs to settle on your ass. 

“eds,” you hum, pulling away from his lips, “i’ve gotta go pick the boys up,” making zero effort to stop the inevitable, your chest flush against his.

“well better make it quick this time then,” he growls, walking your body into the countertop, manhandling your body to face you against the hard counter, pressing up against the swell of your ass. his belt clinks as his jeans fall down around his thighs, boxers following behind. 

“this is.. i have to go,” you gasp, rolling your head back to allow his lips room to find your neck, nuzzling right into his favourite spot just tucked underneath your jaw. 

“then why don’t you leave?” his gruff voice vibrates against your chin as his hands slide underneath your shirt, spilling your tits from your bra to get a full handed grope of them. 

your hand rests atop of his, the other gripping to the countertop for dear life. 

you’re not going to leave, that much is obvious. eddie’s also fairly certain that you’ve got at least an hour before you have to go. he’s not stupid, you play the game just as much as he does, pretending to leave just to pounce on him straight after. 

“that’s what i thought,” sarcastic as ever, threatening to score violet splotches behind on your neck, though his lips detach before he’s able to. 

eddie lets his thoughts slip back to the reason you’re even here, letting himself get frustrated by your blind audacity all over again. 

“you must be fucking stupid coming in here, asking me shit like that,” his large, calloused hand pawing at your tits, the other yanking your panties down to hang around your thighs. 

“no i’m not,” arguing back though you’re completely docile, allowing him to bend your torso over the marbled countertop, his hands groping your plush skin. “he’s my..” sigh, “husband now and you need to- fu-uck respect that,” fingers curling around his arm, pinching at the skin when he slides inside with no warning. 

“what was that?” eddie mocks, slamming into your cunt with little remorse, full of years of pent up frustration and a tiny dose of regret. 

once upon a time, this was his everyday. having you absolutely anywhere he wanted, and now it was solely reserved for times you really needed him to agree to something. or perhaps david had done something stupid, as he often did. sending you running back to eddie like a feeble little deer. 

“shut up,” sighing in time with his rough strokes, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoes through his barren kitchen, filthy sounds of sex wailed through his apartment far more often than they should. 

before you’d met david, he’d see you once a week while dropping the kids off, maybe he’d get to taste you a couple times a month, if he was lucky. it was only after you remarried that you’d come around unannounced, asking about something that most definitely could’ve been a call. 

eddie doesn’t care, you’re the only woman for him anyway, a couple divorce papers couldn’t change that. 

“you fuckin’ love it,” he growls, grabbing a fistful of your hair and fiercely tugging your head back, “y’gotta drive all the way over here just to cum, ain’t that sad?” speaking low right into your ear, his arms keeping a strong hold of your torso as your knees grow weak. 

“you don’t.. you’re- fuck you,” knuckles glowing white with your grip on the counter, other hand desperately nuzzling between your thighs, circling your neglected clit. 

“have to speak up honey, i can’t hear you,” the tip of his cock nudges against your soft spot, eliciting a strangled mewl from your pretty wetted lips. 

“i can make myself cum,” you speak proudly through gritted teeth, voice bouncing around with every slam of his hips, “i don’t need you,” rubbing your clit harsher, as if to prove a point. 

“oh yeah? show me baby.. let me see you cum,” slowing his strokes but keeping his cock firmly enveloped inside, jaw clenching with every squeeze and quiver of your cunt. 

eddie palms your tit, getting as much satisfaction from this as you were. your whimpers alone could make him cum, hell, just a look and he was rock solid in his jeans. 

“oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” gasping into the air, leant back against his shoulder, head turning to hide in the nook of his neck as you teeter over, waves of pleasure shocking your body. 

“shit,” he grunts underneath his breath, feeling you writhe around in his arms, “that was good sweetheart, my turn,” resuming his assault on your cunt, breath stuttering as his hips begin to rock again. 

his hand replaces yours, slipping between your thighs to find your clit, thrusts becoming sloppy and weak as the blood rushes to his head, sending his stomach into a series of somersaults. 

even in your separation, your pleasure came first. an important pocket of information wayne had awkwardly handed him when his voice started cracking and girls no longer had cooties. 

you’re putty in his arms, fully relying on the countertop to keep you upright, thighs quivering with the intensity of your orgasm and the anticipation of the quickly approaching next one. 

“oh.. my.. god,” whining with every thrust, your voice thick with lustrous air, too fucked out to stand or even think straight. 

“i’m gonna, sh-shit cum sweetheart,” pounding recklessly into your trembling pussy, dripping in a mixture of your juices. 

you clench around him, tipping over the edge once more, barely able to hold yourself upright with shaking knees and a harsh grip of his arm. 

eddie isn’t, nor had he ever been one for pulling out, he liked running that risk, the thrill of maybe knocking you up again. 

three kids don’t happen without at least one accident, that’s for sure. 

he doesn’t now, pumping the thick ropes of his release into your cunt, groaning belligerently as he does so. praying to god this was the time it stuck, pregnant with his child once again. 

you fall flat against the counter, heaving for breath with the last of his pathetic strokes, growling into the stuff air. 

he slaps a harsh palm to your ass for good measure, trailing his hand down your trembling thighs, “so you run along home now and tell him exactly what i told you,” fingering the lace of your panties as he hikes them back over your thighs.

“no.”

[quantum1mmortality]

hihi! I saw your curly stuff, I love how you write him!! If it’s possible, nsfw headcanons for what turns him on? have a great day <3

Have I ever mentioned how much I love writing Curly? No? Well I am now. I love writing him. He's so awesome sauce, so boyfriend. My scrunkle

Tw/cw; lingerie, praise, mentions of masochism, accidentally almost wrote a one shot for the last one whoops lolololol, semi public sex IMPLIED

Not proofread

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

1; Lingerie

You guys can't look at me and tell me this man wouldn't go BALLISTIC for a nice set of lingerie. He makes good money at his job, good enough to be able to buy multiple sets of high quality, lacy lingerie for you to wear for him; then make you do a fashion show for him when you get them. Curly definitely comes off as a thigh guy, so he'd pick out all the sets with garter belts, specifically so he can slip his fingers under the seam and let go to see all that thigh movement. It actually drives him wild. Those sets can be pretty expensive, so hopefully he gets a raise soon since he's tearing apart every set he gets you.

2; Praise

I know it's overdone to say a character gets turned on by being praised but idc. This man has a praise kink and I will DIE on that hill. For anyone else, a praise to him wouldn't matter. He hears them constantly in his line of work, so at this point it's just noise. But from you? You like something about him? Oh no, he's hard. You could compliment him on the most mundane of things, say his uniform looks good on him and he's thinking about that the entire time he's at work. By the time he gets home, he's in genuine pain at how turned on he's been ALL DAY and not being able to help himself. He could, but he'd rather you do it. He's quite the masochist.

3; Titles

Imagine this; you're the wife of a well respected captain at Pony Express, and you decide to be a good wife and bring your beloved husband lunch. How sweet! You go to his department and call out to him, "Captain, I've brought lunch for you~" you giggle, drawing out his title. He looks up from.. whatever he was doing only to find you, holding a lunch box with a smile. Okay stop imagining, it's headcanon time.

Obviously the first thing he's going to do is thank you for lunch, he was famished. But after that, it's all blurry. It's like being with you has unlocked a bunch of new experiences for him, he never thought being called his title, the title he earned, would turn him on so much. It's like hearing it come from you was completely different from anyone else saying it. You ended up staying his entire lunch break and talking to him, only for your words to fall on deaf ears. He could barely even focus on what he was eating, let alone what you were telling him. Eventually he just had to excuse himself from the conversation, leaving you alone as he attempted, ATTEMPTED to satisfy himself. After a while he just gave up and went back out to where you were, told you the situation, and asked for your help. He was practically begging you, what were you supposed to do? Leave him there? No, you're a good wife. Of course you'd help him, right?

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

A/n; sometimes I forget I'm supposed to be writing hcs and accidentally lock in too much and go on little tangents. I'm suffering from success but it kind of fucks the vibe up ngl