#fused glass fun

[melmac78]

And… now for something completely different:

I made this a piece before common sense taught me to use a dangle between the two pieces.

So basically the piece is a half round, full circle and then a rectangle under both to connect.

When I made it YEARS ago (this has to be within 2 years of me doing fused glass based on the idea), I didn’t think it’d work as a pendant, and when I moved from Brenham to Slaton (my last place before this move), it was stuck in a box I never unpacked.

Well found it yesterday when I was unpacking… and realized it’ll work as a bracelet center, so here you go.

Now if I can find more lost pieces… I’ve only got about 18 boxes left. (Yes… it’s taken a while but they’re at least where I see them daily so I’ll get them done.)

[kayatoastkkat]

you seem different…somehow.

yeah so I had a fusion design all along haha wow I finally redesigned and decided to post it!

the little blond streak in the forelock is actually a part of my first ever fusion drawing, and also some of my earliest TGS sketches below the cut!

I'm still so proud of this after a whole year I doodled this shortly after inhaling the entire TVTropes page on TGS

[mieltelecheycrema]

no cuz tristamp is literally so stunning studio orange just god

[snekdood]

i just think hes neat

[gloomwitchwrites]

hi!!! i literally started reading your blog and FR YOU HAVE TALENT. Got me giggling and kicking my feet cus of that girl dad!tf141 fics.

I was reading one of the links you put in for prompt ideas and I read that one six words sentence from link five: "I can't risk losing you again." hello?? potential angst to fluff?? I couldn't get it off my head and i was wondering if you could write something from it :>

Thank you so much! That's so sweet of you! I'm so glad you enjoyed reading the Just Like Dad stories. I had a lot of fun writing them.

"I can't risk losing you again" is such an open-ended prompt. There is a lot you can do with that. I hope my humble offering is enough. I certainly went more angst than fluff on this one, but I really do love sad things with twinges of hope thrown in.

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, mild blood, non-graphic mentions of violence, angst, fluff, pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy complications

Simon "Ghost" Riley: An enemy of Simon's harms you, forcing Simon to make a tough decision. (wc: 315) Kyle "Gaz" Garrick: Kyle decides there is only one way to keep you close. (wc: 323) John Price: Price worries after you tell him you're pregnant when the first pregnancy had complications. (wc: 329) John "Soap" MacTavish: Johnny learns that falling in love with a teammate can only lead to sorrow. (wc: 542)

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Busted door. Shattered glass. Overturned table.

The lights aren’t working and rain enters through the open patio door. You are safe and whole and far from this. But is it enough? Will Simon be able to keep you safe?

What was once doubt is now cold truth.

It’s not your trashed home but the state Simon found you in. It was your heavy-lidded eyes and bruised face. It was the pools of red that Simon didn’t know belonged to you, the dead man facedown in the carpet, or both. It was your smile of relief when you realized it was Simon drawing you into his arms.

Simon knows the man who did this—no. He knows who fucking ordered it.

And when he finds Makarov, he’ll show that fucker just how trigger-hungry he can be. The lead will burst and fuse to his lungs, and Simon will bathe in the aftermath.

All that’s left is your safety. If Simon knew that his career would lead to this, he would have taken steps to protect you years ago. You are always his one bright spot, that candle in the dark that is his life.

With you, he became more than his trauma. More than his guilt. More than his past. With you, he found peace. He found happiness. You are the sugary candy that sticks in the teeth but is too addictive to give up.

Departing is agony. The return is his reward and his longing.

You are everything.

And that is why he let you go.

Why he said, “I can’t risk losing you again.”

He put his head in your lap, his fingers digging into the sides of your thighs and failed to push down the tears.

Laswell will take you far away. She will keep you somewhere safe.

Makarov won’t find you.

And maybe—perhaps in the future—Simon can return to you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle is a nervous wreck.

The tiny box sits heavy in his pocket, burning an invisible hole. His plan is not the most romantic, but the two of you aren’t the type to go big. It’s all subtle, and Kyle only wants this moment to include the two of you.

This is his last chance.

Kyle’s final opportunity.

In this relationship, Kyle has kept you second. Not on purpose but out of habit. Work is his lifeblood. It drives him, and every successful mission is a point of pride. But in keeping up with that, Kyle left you behind.

His absences lengthened, and over time, he noticed you were pulling away, closing off. But that isn’t your fault. Kyle created the perfect brew for you to drink. These are the consequences of his actions, and he needs to make it right.

There was a time when Kyle nearly did lose you. When he came home and thought you had packed up and left without saying a word. That broke him. Made him realize just how distant he’d become.

Change is difficult.

But Kyle did it. Slowly.

Your smile returned, and when he comes home, your greetings are full of passion.

I can’t risk losing you again.

Kyle takes a deep breath as the deadbolt on the front door disengages. There is a slight tremble in his hands. Kyle is never nervous. Never. But fuck—taking this next step is driving him up the goddamn wall.

He pushes off from the couch, turning just as the front door swings open.

You step inside, face turned away as you go to shut the door. When you finally glance into the room, all the nervousness inside Kyle’s chest evaporates.

Your smile is so sweet, and you don’t hesitate. Dropping your bag, you rush toward him, and Kyle cannot help but meet you halfway.

He’s making the right choice in asking you to stay with him forever.

John Price

“You’re not happy.”

John is happy. He is. But old worries bubble up, seeping into the joy. It’s tainting everything, and that is clear by how your smile starts to fade.

“I am happy,” he says, but his mouth is a hard line. John knows he’s frowning.

You shake your head, one hand resting over your stomach. “Don’t lie, John.”

This is supposed to be a happy moment. He should sweep you up in his arms. He should kiss you until you’re begging for air. But all John can think about are all the doctor appointments he attended with you, and the grimness of what might not happen.

From that came a daughter. John loves her. Adores her. But bringing her into the world nearly killed you. He grappled with that stress while being as present as possible with you. Growing your family has always been a dream, and John doesn’t fault you for a second. There is no family without you.

John grasps the sides of your face and moves into your space. Your own hands close over his, keeping him from retreat.

“I am happy,” he reiterates. “But we both know what it took to bring our daughter into the world.” John shakes his head absently and breathes deep. “Don’t do this for me.”

“John—”

“I can’t risk losing you again.”

This time, your smile returns. There is a hint of sadness lingering behind it, as if you too are reflecting on all that happened.

“Everything will be fine.” You release his hand and gently cup his cheek.

John kisses your forehead, his thumb absently tracing your jaw. “Are you sure?”

The decision is ultimately yours, and John will respect whatever you decide.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he nods.

John pulls you in, lips finding yours. When you melt into him, accepting all that he’s giving, a wave of peace settles over him.

This is right.

And whatever happens, the two of you will face it together.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny drips water all over the floor. He is soaked through. Shivering. But he could give a fuck.

“Where is she?”

“Soap—”

“Where the fuck is she, Price?”

Captain Price sighs heavily and crosses his arms. “She needs rest.”

Johnny swallows down his retort. He’s not upset with Price, and shit like this happens all the time, but he needs to know if you’re okay.

You took a fucking bad fall, and Johnny couldn’t stop to run after you. The mission comes first, and it wasn’t his job. Other people stepped in and whisked you away. But from the height you plummeted from, Johnny feared the worst.

Still does to an extent.

If you were dead, Price wouldn’t hide that from him. But he might hide how bad you’re injured as a way to protect him. Price has always been fatherly in that regard. Right now, it’s driving Johnny fucking nuts.

“Captain. Please,” Johnny clenches his fists and then releases them. “Let me see her.”

Price’s frown smooths a bit and the middle of his brow wrinkles with concern. “For a few minutes. All I can spare.”

Johnny has to keep from rushing to the hospital room doorway when the words leave Price’s mouth. He has Johnny walk with him to your door. Thunder rumbles in the distance and rain steadily hits the large window at the far end of the hospital room.

Just as Johnny takes a step inside, Price’s hand is on his shoulder.

“She’ll make it,” is all he says before he shuts the door.

Johnny lingers right inside. All the lights are off except a small lamp in the corner. Your eyes are closed, and your face is peaceful. There is bruising. A few bandages. The machines next to the bed beep softly.

He was so eager—so determined to get to you. Now, Johnny deflates.

On quiet feet, he grabs a chair and brings it over to your bedside. You don’t stir. Simply sleep. Johnny eases down into the chair and leans forward, his forearms crossed as he rests them on the side of the hospital bed.

Still, you don’t move. And Johnny doesn’t dare wake you.

Rest is important, and all he wants is for you to recover.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “That I didn’t come sooner.” The rain picks up and Johnny smooths back his wet hair. “But I can’t keep doing this. Every time you’re hurt I—” He sighs heavily and rests his forehead on his crossed arms.

“I can’t risk losing you again,” he murmurs into the bedding.

It’s become too much. You’re not supposed to fuck your coworkers and you shouldn’t fall in love with them either. But Johnny did both. With you. And he cannot take that back.

He’d give anything if you’d set this all aside.

Your fingers brushing against his scalp startle him. Johnny lifts his head, only to find you watching him. There is a soft smile on your lips, and his instinct is to grasp your hand and bring it to his lips, kissing each knuckle and then your palm.

The moment your mouth opens to speak, there is knock at the door. Johnny frowns and looks up, finding Price in the doorway.

“Time’s up.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @miaraei

@coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @pearljamislife

@miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff

@berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf

@lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien

@sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d

@heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria

@lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic

@suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior

[kitchenwitchtingss]

50 KITCHEN WITCH TIPS TO MAKE YOU FEEL MORE WITCHY

(And other useful things I've learned over the years)

Hi! This is a list of dos, don'ts, tips, tricks, and other fun things that I've learned over the years. I always love finding more effective and efficient ways of doing things so if you have any cool things you'd like to add, leave them in the comments or reblog. I'd love to read it.

Anyways... On with the list ^_^

Light candles around your kitchen space (just make sure nothing flammable is near you)

Annotate your cookbooks with the correspondence of the ingredients.

Mediating is really good to calm the mind before cooking.

Cut oranges and lemons thinly, dry them, and hang them with twine around your kitchen

Need a cleansing tip? Open all your windows near your kitchen. Let some fresh air in.

Cutting sigils into apples, pie crusts, and carved potatoes.

Save lemon and orange rinds, freeze them, and then use them to clean the garbage disposal.

Make infused oils and honey: Things like garlic honey, lavender honey, herb oil, sun oil, moon oil, dandelion oil, and other different edible oils are very fun and useful to make.

Hid sigils in pages of your cookbooks and kitchen witch journals.

Add some plants! Snake plants and spider plants don't need too much light, and growing your own herbs in your kitchen is awesome too. Basil, lavender, thyme, aloe vera, rosemary, etc. are good fits. You could also add some plants that require more sunlight on the kitchen window sill. Like cacti and succulents.

Bring crystals into your kitchen space such as rose quartz, clear quartz, amethyst, or whatever you want the space's intentions to be.

I keep a small money tree on the sill, along with cacti for luck and protection.

Make a simmer Pot! Mostly because it makes the whole house smell good, easy, and fun.

Stir clockwise for best results!

Learning how to pickle things is actually pretty witchy. Plus, anyone could do it as it requires absolutely no kitchen experience. You could pickle any vegetable, even if you don't like pickles. I originally learned this after having to take shelter from a natural disaster. A person brought a bunch of stuff and taught us how to pickle things with different spices and herbs. Very fun!

Decorate your kitchen with your favorite stuff. Crystals, decor, heat mits, that cool mushroom cake stand you've been eyeing at the World Market for the past 2 weeks, cool looking curtains, sun catchers. Why stop there? Paint the walls, hang shelves full of marked-up cookbooks that are a little too well-loved and thumbed through.

Wanna be the person that has the amazing-smelling house every time people come over? Syrups take some time to simmer down, it's actually a pretty good time to leave it on the stove to simmer. Since syrups have a lot of aromatic ingredients, it acts as a really good-smelling simmer pot.

Hang up herbs to dry with twine from cabinets that are rarely used.

Invest in that new set of plates and cups.

Homemade jams, butter, sauces, and syrups are your best friend.

Crochet or knit your own dish rags, pot holders, etc.

Don't pour extremely hot things into a glass that's not Pyrex, it will break, and you will be very sad about it.

Don't cook anything while extremely upset or emotional (For safety reasons)

Make recipes you want to make, not just because you'll like the effect. Make it because you think it's tasty.

Chinese Five Spice works in place of herbs for protection and luck spells a lot of the time! It's cheaper to buy 1 spice than 4 different spices that total up to 15 dollars when you could just spend 3-4 dollars.

Take a shower before cooking (I don't know how to explain this one other than it makes you feel better)

Don't use microfiber/plastic material clothes on hot burners, it will fuse to the burner and melt. It is VERY hard to get off.

I don't know if I need to put this one but I did see someone do it so nonstick pan = wooden utensils and plastic utensils, metal pan = metal utensils. Do not use a metal spoon in a nonstick pan, please. It can make you very sick.

Keep your pets away from hot oil, open ovens, and hot pans.

You can proof bread dough in the fridge overnight if you don't have the time to bake, or want to eat fresh bread right in the morning.

Need a quick witchy meal for dinner in 12 minutes? Use premade tomato pasta sauce and doctor it up with thyme, rosemary, and garlic, for protection and distilling stagnant energies. Serve with pasta of your liking.

You can substitute Butter for Crisco/shortening, buttermilk for 1 cup of milk + 1 tbsp apple cider vinegar or lemon juice, and heavy cream for 1 cup of half and half plus 2 tbsp of butter.

Use leftover animal bones to make bone broth

Teach yourself the art of bread scoring (It's fun, and you can show it off to your loved ones!)

Collect and hoard your own and others' family recipes.

Sometimes the food doesn't have to be a spell, sometimes it just makes you feel good and you don't know why.

Listen to your favorite music in the kitchen, it makes the monotonous things like chopping veggies move faster.

Invest in a vegetable chopper if you don't like chopping vegetables.

Find a really good hot cocoa recipe and make it once a week. Master it. Just for your own happiness because hot cocoa is really good. You could also be the friend/family member that makes the best hot cocoa ever.

Focaccia Bread Lasts a very long time, and it's very easy to make!

Keep a first aid kit near where the oven is, in case of burns, cuts, or serious injuries where time is everything.

Quick Bread and no-rise loaves are simple for beginners, tasty, and take little time. They also feel very witchy to make.

Study a bit of Herbalism! It's fun and really helps better understand the herbs you're putting into your food.

While something is boiling, put your wooden spoon over the pot to minimize the chance of something boiling over.

Try a bit of coffee magick, it's simple to get into, and gives you a boost of energy to take on the day!

If you're over 21, wine-making is a very interesting way to celebrate the sabbats. Just with that, make sure you KNOW what you're doing. With anything fermented, there's always a risk if you don't store things correctly. Apple wines, strawberry wines, dandelion wines, etc. all very cool to experiment with. If you're not over 21, vinegar is a similar way to experiment.

Hang up some witchy things, sigils, photos, cool magnets, and other things that give you joy on your fridge. (Sometimes if you are lucky they have some fun magnets at five below)

If you live in the US, for some reason, there are a lot of books in the book section dedicated to witchcraft and spirituality. At least where I live. And they are all under 5 dollars!

Teas are the cheapest and easiest things you can practice being a kitchen witch.

[aemondsbabe]

Making Amends

summary: a fancy party & praising || you finally see why michael hates going home for the holidays and treat him the way he deserves

pairing: michael gavey x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, breast/nipple play, heavy praise, riding, brief cockwarming, cursing, brief mention of daddy kink but it’s not used, dirty talk, angy michael (not at reader), angst but happy ending, parents being stupid, choking, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 3.4k

a/n: happy day twelve of 12 days of smuff!!! we did it!!! a very merry christmas to all those who celebrate; i hope your holidays are full of love and fun! I hope y’all enjoy this one & i look forward to writing many more stories in the new year!

TAUNT | Part 1

PRAISE | Taunt Part 2

this one can be read as a continuation of taunt & praise or as a stand alone!!

12 days of smuff masterlist!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

“Ohh, Michael!” An older woman croons, making you and your boyfriend turn your heads at the same time, “How lovely to see you!” 

“Nice to see you too, Aunt Janet.” Michael says, his voice monotone, and gives the woman an awkward half-hug. You give him a sympathetic grin when he rolls his eyes at you over her shoulder.

“And who is this?” She asks, turning to look you up and down with a smile.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Michael explains, taking a second to introduce the two of you, “We met at uni.” 

“Nice to meet you.” You smile politely and shake her hand. 

“How wonderful!” She turns to you and puts a hand on your forearm before leaning in slightly with a grin, “We were beginning to give up on this one ever finding someone to put up with him!” She grins, giggling like it’s the funniest joke in the world. 

You merely awkwardly chuckle, though it only takes one glance at Michael to know he’s fuming. You can’t really blame him, this is how it’s been all evening, ever since you’d arrived at his parents house. Michael had tried to talk you out of accompanying him to their annual Christmas party, claiming that hell would be a lesser punishment, but you’d insisted, saying it couldn’t be that bad. 

When you’d first pulled up to the Gavey’s home, you’d been excited! They’d gone all out with the decorations, though Michael claimed they usually did, but that didn’t stop you from marveling at all the garland, lights, and wreaths that adorned every inch of the house. And since this year’s party was apparently more formal than usual, that just gave you the chance to ogle at your boyfriend in a tux, which was an automatic win in your book.

And yet, here you are, listening to yet another joke at Michael’s expense and hating every second of it. It seemed like every relative and family friend had one in store, if it wasn’t about finally finding someone to put up with him, it was about what he must’ve done to bribe you into it, or that he must be paying you to be here. Not to mention the backhanded compliments; you’d grown so tired of hearing remarks about how they’re so happy that Michael had finally found someone or, “Oh, finally! Took him long enough!” 

“Old fucking bat,” Michael mutters under his breath as Aunt Janet totters off, “Knew we shouldn’t have come.” He grumbles, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“M’sorry, babe,” you sigh, giving him a small half smile as you place a comforting hand on his leg, “I don’t understand why they can’t simply be nice.

He scoffs next to you, rolling his eyes with a sardonic smile, “Wouldn’t be a real Gavey Christmas without snide comments, fucking losers.” 

The evening continues in the same fashion and suddenly you understand why Michael has always been so defensive and eager to prove himself, you would be too in a family like this. 

You can tell your boyfriend is operating on a very short fuse and offer him a placating smile every time you notice him clenching his jaw or notice his breathing pick up, chest heaving under his black suit jacket. 

However, it’s finally a comment his father makes during dinner that sets him off. You’ve hardly started eating when it happens, with everyone sitting around the Gavey’s impressively large dining room table passing various dishes back and forth. 

“So,” Mrs. Gavey started, giving Michael a pointed look as she refilled her glass of wine, “How were your marks this term?” 

You glance down in time to see your boyfriend white knuckle his fork and quickly stroke a hand over his knee, which seems to help lessen his tension somewhat, thankfully. 

“Distinctions,” he answers dryly, keeping his eyes fixed on the table, “Obviously.” 

His mom simply nods, not offering any praise or even a generic, “Well done,” much to your surprise. 

And a few seconds later, everything blows up. 

“How’s that friend of yours doing?” Mr. Gavey butts in, setting his steak knife down as he speaks, “What was his name? Owen… Oscar, maybe?” 

“Oliver.” Michael corrects him, so quickly and quietly that you’re surprised his dad even catches it. 

“Oliver! Of course, and how’s he doing? Hm? You haven’t mentioned him in some time.” 

There’s a beat of silence in which you fight the urge to kick Mr. Gavey under the table, knowing exactly where this would go. 

“We don’t… talk anymore. I haven’t seen him for ages.” He grits out; his leg tenses up under your palm once again when his mother lets out a disappointed sigh, as if she were getting ready to scold a small child. 

“Michael, honestly,” she starts with a small shake of her head, “It’s not good for you to be so socially isolated all the time.” 

“I’m fine.”

“What about that other boy you used to go around with, hm?” His mom continues on, seemingly oblivious to his foul mood, “The one you were so close to in primary school, oh, he was lovely.” 

“Felix, wasn’t it?” Mr. Gavey quips, “Whatever happened to him? I always thought he had such a good head on his shoulders.” 

“He’s a cunt.” Your boyfriend seethes lowly, all but vibrating with rage as he spits each word out. 

“What was that, dear?” His mom asks, none the wiser. 

“He’s a cunt!” Michael exclaims, his fork clattering across the table as he tosses it down, scraping his chair back across the floor. 

“Michael!” Mrs. Gavey chides, a horrified look on her normally placid face as she, quite literally, clutches at her pearls. 

“If you’ll fucking excuse me.” Michael mutters, tossing his cloth napkin down onto the table with a dull thud before retreating from the table with a growl. 

The silence that follows is deafening as everyone stays frozen at the table for a moment; you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the shell shocked expression on his grandmother’s face. 

After a beat, Mr. and Mrs. Gavey begin falling all over themselves to apologize, awkwardly laughing as they make excuses for Michael, as if their bullying hadn’t made him snap. 

“I’m gonna go check on him,” you say after a moment, giving polite smiles to his parents as you stand from the table, “Just to make sure he’s okay.” 

“Of course, dear,” his mother nods sagely, ever the beacon of motherly wisdom, “We know how sensitive little Michael is.” 

As soon as your back is turned you roll your eyes, nose wrinkling in disgust. Little Michael? What the fuck? 

It only takes you a minute to locate him upstairs as you quickly spot the door to his childhood bedroom tightly closed. You smile sadly as you walk over to it, you pause for a moment before knocking softly. 

“Michael?” You call, pressing an ear against the door, “You in there?” Your brows furrow when you hear a small sniffle from the other side of the door and your hand automatically goes to the doorknob, a sigh of relief leaving you when it easily turns. 

Your heart breaks when you push the door open and peek inside, quickly spotting Michael on his bed, head in his hands, shoulders shaking. 

“Oh,” you breathe, hastily closing the door as you let yourself into his room, “Michael.” You sigh, sitting beside him on his small twin bed and slinging an arm around his shoulders. 

“M’fine…” He says softly, dejectedly. 

“You are not,” you pull him to you, rubbing a hand over his bicep as you hold him closely, “No one would expect you to be, not after all that.” 

He merely nods and tucks his head into your neck, sniffling sadly as his blond hair tickles your chin, one arm wraps around you while he busies himself with plucking lightly at the hem of your dress, running his finger over the smooth satin seam. 

“You wanna talk about it?” You ask softly, pressing a sweet kiss to the crown of his head. 

“Not tonight,” his voice is muffled slightly against your collarbone as he speaks, “Please.” 

You nod, opting to stay quiet and simply hold him for the time being. 

You don’t know how much time passes but eventually, he seems to calm down, at least his shoulders stop trembling and he stops rubbing at his eyes and sniffling. 

Finally, once his breathing has evened out, you decide to speak up. 

“They don’t deserve you.” You murmur, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your heart twisting when you see his beautiful blue eyes rimmed with red. 

“Love…” He sighs, ready to fight you on it. 

“That’s all I wanted to say,” you assure him quickly, “They don’t.” 

You hold his face in your hands gently, studying him with a soft smile. He really did look delectable in his suit, so smartly put together and polished. 

Michael must be feeling the same way, no doubt riding the small high that usually came after a solid rush of emotion. His eyes darken as he looks back at you, Adam’s apple bobbing enticingly in his throat as he swallows thickly. 

You don’t know who moves first, unable to find it within yourself to care as his warm lips slot perfectly against your own. 

A relieved groan sounds from his chest and his hands immediately come up to cup your waist, his thumbs rubbing appreciatively over the soft material of your dress as you shiver, already getting lost in his touch. 

“Mikey,” you murmur, biting into your lower lip as he kisses down across your jaw, his hands scrambling to pull you into his lap, “S-Should we?” Your voice trembles as he gently sucks at the sensitive spot on your neck, drawing your mind further and further from the party taking place downstairs. 

“Need you,” he rasps, unable to stop himself from smirking as you keen against him when he skirts his hands up your form to cup your breasts through your dress, your nipples already hard and wanting against the satin, “Just – I need you, love.”

He’s so desperate, you couldn’t say no and finally decide to throw caution to the wind. You smile triumphantly as you run your hands over his trim waist, tucking them under his jacket to get closer to him, savoring the feel of his warm skin even through the thin material of his button down. 

Finally, you push the suit jacket off his shoulders and, needing to feel him against you, waste no time hastily undoing the buttons on his shirt, yanking it out from under his trousers and belt before quickly dropping both to the floor. 

Apparently just as impatient, Michael chooses to simply push the thin straps of your dress off of your shoulders and growls deeply when your dress falls down your chest, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. Without missing a beat, he pulls you closer to him, groaning as your core presses tightly against his still-clothed erection. As soon as your chest is level with his face, he mouths at the underside of your breast, cupping the other in his hand. He peers up at you through his glasses, already fogging up against his cheeks, as he wraps his pink lips around your nipple and gingerly sucks it into his mouth, groaning against your supple skin at the breathy moan you let out. 

You hold his head against your chest, fingers gripping tightly at his short hair as your head tilts back, small whimpers and whines escaping past your lips as you try your best to stay quiet. Your hips seem to move of their own accord, rocking against him as he worships your breasts. 

“Michael,” you whimper, your core clenching tightly when you look down and take in his flushed face. You press your lips against his again, frantically kissing him as your tongue invades his mouth, “What do you want?”

“You.” His reply is automatic, his hands kneading greedily at your tits as he stares up at you, bare chest already heaving. 

You can’t help but chuckle a little, pride blooming in your chest at the fact that he’s already this strung out. Nevertheless, you give a quick shake of your head, smirking when he whines impatiently. 

“How do you want me, Mikey?” 

The desperate look behind his eyes softens instantly, his pink lips parting enough to reveal the tiniest sliver of his front teeth. Somehow, he blushes more and just barely shakes his head at you, swallowing thickly like he always does when he’s flustered. 

“Can you be on top?” He asks quietly, blue eyes flitting between yours behind his gold-rimmed glasses, “I just – I don’t have it in me to be daddy tonight, love.” He confesses quickly.

You chuckle again, always impressed with him when he shows his more vulnerable side, and instantly you nod, cupping his soft cheeks again. 

“Of course I can do that,” you keep your voice soft, even the small kiss you give him is soft, “Lay back for me, yeah? I don’t wanna wait.”

  Nodding eagerly, he doesn’t waste time and leans back on the narrow bed, helping you climb atop him as he does. He groans appreciatively as you settle on his hips, licking his lips as he stares up at you. He watches as your breasts heave with every breath while his hands trace down over your hips to cup your ass. 

“You’re so beautiful, love,” he murmurs, tugging your dress up over your bum before kneading the supple flesh, watching intently as you whimper above him, “So soft and pretty and fuck– fucking perfect.” He finishes with a growl, blue eyes rolling back when you rock down against him. 

Heat courses through your veins at his words and you hurry to undo his belt, the metal buckle tinkling softly in the quiet of his bedroom as you push it to the side, too frantic to bother to pull it off him entirely. Your fingers quickly find the button of his trousers and you all but yank them open the second you have the zipper undone, sighing happily as his hard cock bobs against his stomach, the head already flushed and steadily leaking. 

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, his back arching a little with the relief of his erection finally being freed, “Y’gonna ride me, princess?”

“Mhm,” you nod with a smirk, wiggling on his lap as you situate yourself perfectly above his length, “You deserve to be taken care of, Michael.” You coo softly, bending forward a little to pull your lacy underwear to the side, not having the patience to properly remove them.

Your comment seems to have gone to your boyfriend’s head and you smirk when you feel his cock jump up, twitching against your center as a soft groan leaves him. You bite your lip when you grab his length, loving how warm it felt in your hand. Carefully, you position him at your dripping center and slot the head against your entrance. 

Both of you moan in unison as you sink down slowly, his thick length filling you completely as your hips finally press against his. 

“Goddammit,” he curses, roughly grabbing your ass as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep himself anchored even though he knows in the back of his mind it’s useless with how tightly you’re gripping him, “You feel so fucking good, pretty girl, fucking love this sweet little cunt.” 

His praises go straight to your core and you clench around him, somehow tighter, making him grunt underneath you. Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you start moving your hips over him, using your thighs to push off of his lap before sinking back down, whining when you feel the head of his cock press perfectly against that delicious little spot inside you.

“You’re so good, Mikey, fuck,” you pant, fighting to keep your eyes open to savor each expression that crosses his flushed face, “Y-You feel so perfect, holy shit, everything about you is perfect.”

He groans deeply, lower lip trembling as he stares up at you in awe, brows furrowed as he takes in every inch of you. Blue eyes trace slowly over your form, lingering on your face before looking over your breasts. He swallows thickly as he pauses to watch them bounce tantalizingly, matching every one of your thrusts against him. Eventually, he looks down and moans softly, watching your slick pussy move over his length. 

“Yeah, princess?” He encourages, making you smile softly as you realize how badly he needs this, how badly he needs to be told how good he is. 

“Y-Yeah, shit,” you whimper, head spinning when he leans up to lick over one of your nipples, gently suckling at the bud as you continue, “You’re the best, Michael, fuck – best boyfriend, you’re so smart and s-so precious and f-funny and – and God!”

You practically squeal when his thumb comes down to rub at your clit, your eyes crossing at the sudden jolt of pleasure that washes over you. 

“I love you, holy fuck,” you huff, thighs burning as you move somehow quicker over him, “I love you, I love – oh, shit – everything about you.” Your voice is hoarse as you breathe through soft pants, practically squirming on top of him as your head spins every time he circles his thumb over you. 

“I love you too, princess,” he hums, pulling you down for a quick, desperate kiss, “You’re so damn good to me.”

“You deserve it,” you say quickly, swallowing as you pant above him, your heart hammering wildly in your chest, “You deserve everything, Michael, you’re so, so good.” 

He growls at that, lips parting as he watches you. He keeps circling a thumb over your clit but fans the rest of his fingers out, holding your hip more securely. You hardly have time to think before you squeak in surprise, gasping as he begins rutting his hips up into you, the tip of his cock hitting your sensitive spot at a dizzying speed. 

“O-Oh, shit!” You huff, eyes wide and wild, “Michael, Mikey, I –” You cut yourself off with a loud cry, too loud given the circumstances, but your brain whites out the second he reaches up and wraps a hand around your throat, not tightly enough to choke you but enough to hold you steady above him. 

“Y’close, love?” He pants, smirking when you quickly nod, “Fucking cum with me, princess, shit, you fucking deserve it.” He hisses through clenched teeth.

All you can do is obey, your fingernails digging harshly into his shoulders as your high finally washes over you. You freeze, tensing up above him as you cry out, uncaring for the party below as your cunt clenches tightly around his length, rhythmically milking him. 

“Shit, shit, fuck,” he grunts beneath you, eyes rolling back as he feels your walls contracting around his cock, drawing his own high from him as well, “Good girl, good girl.” He praises before finally cumming with a snarl. You whimper when you feel him twitch inside you, coating your walls with his thick spend. 

The two of you lay panting for a while, neither of you wanting to get up or break the spell of the safe little bubble you seem to be stuck in as you lazily press kisses against whatever bits of skin you can reach. 

Eventually, the sound of holiday music seems to float up to you from downstairs, along with the sounds of laughter and loud conversation. In the background, you can just barely make out the sound of wrapping paper tearing and taped boxes being pulled open. 

“Sounds like it’s time for gifts,” you muse, tracing shapes on Michael’s chest as he holds you to him, softening length still buried within you, “You wanna join them again?”

He hums softly and shakes his head no with a small smile before tilting his head to look at you, his glasses sitting slightly crooked on his nose as he studies your flushed face. One hand rubs soothingly over your back as he holds you tightly to him, relishing the way your soft skin feels against him.

“Don’t need any gifts from those entitled idiots,” he laughs softly and leans down just enough to press a soft, sweet kiss to your forehead, “I have the most perfect gift right here with me already.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux @grsveeth0m @rae-11 @ms-morningstaarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolfdressedinlace @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[aniharas]

𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥!𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘯 𝘩.𝘤.'𝘴 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦)

pairing: obsessed!down bad!felix catton x fem!reader

summary: felix's lack of control over his deep feelings for you, his revisions partner, begins to spiral him into a sick and twisted sense of keeping you as his.

warnings: explicit language, sexual tension & content, themes of purity and corruption, use of cigarettes and alcohol

wc: 2.1k+

Maybe Felix Catton wasn’t the mindless pretty boy at Oxford like everyone had chalked him up to be. Maybe he was, at least until he saw you.

At first, he wasn’t exactly the most excited when he found out his revisions partner was you, a scholarship girl. A first-class student. Always buried in textbooks nonstop, always holed up with nerdy little books doing your nerdy little homework. He never found people like you any fun, so he braced himself for a snoozefest as you plopped down into the armchair beside him.

But Felix couldn’t have ever been more wrong about the pureness that was you. Sickly sweet, serene you. Skin tantalizingly covered by whatever shoddy arrangements Oxfam provided. Black-rimmed glasses with a prescription so high, it made your bambi-like eyes bulge out of your head. Voice so sugary, he could taste it on the tip of his tongue. You were a prude by all means, but you made it look so damn good. God forbid the tutor asked him anything about your essay, it was fuck all in his brain. And god forbid anyone asked him to make sense of what he felt for you.

And so he eagerly showed up to each revision. It started with the simplest of gestures. Holding the door open for you, carrying your books. He noticed you always walked home alone after each session at night, so he took it upon himself to escort you back to your dorm safely. 

And then it was gifts. Things that he could nonchalantly pass off as having extra of. Packaged sweets from the dining hall, an extra No. 2 pencil. He even tried to offer you a cigarette as the two of you strolled across campus. Of course, being the modest girl you were, you refused. He was glad that you did. You were responsible, you were good. He loved that about you.

But it wasn’t enough. Those brief, one-hour sessions were far from enough. Being the workaholic you were, you were hard to find around campus; that bit irked him. The whole “girl” thing was second-nature to him. They came to him in swarms, in fact. Why were you never there? That was fine with him, he liked the chase. He’d find a way.

“Tutor you? Felix, I think you’re doing fine–” “Codswallop, and you know it. You, on the other hand…you’re exceptional.” “I don’t think I’m exactly qualified enough-” “I do.”

And these newfound tutoring sessions were far better than what he had been getting. He never thought he’d look forward to being in a tutorial for hours in a stiff library chair, but the very thought consumed his waking days. Because it was you, dressed in your hand-me-down school jumper, brows adorably furrowed as you hastily scribbled notes across the margins of his essays. He wasn’t exactly the best at writing, but he occasionally found himself misspelling words just to see you get irritated with him. 

“Sometimes it slips my mind that you’re a rich kid. Until I remember we’re at Oxford and this is what you wrote,” you had said one time. Had it been from anyone else, he would’ve blown a fuse. But it was you, who always snuck in bites of your Crunchie between each sentence. You were so genuine, so oblivious to the world around you. He could never be upset with you.

Which is why he felt responsible for you. But how could he protect you when you were so elusive? He considered himself blessed if he found you at King’s Arms on the weekends, or anywhere at all. And blessed he was, on a Friday night, just before Oxford let out for the holidays.

It was you, accompanied by your trashy roommates. “Come on, just once before you go home,” they had whined as they pushed you through the doors. Upon this rare sighting, Felix decided that the story he was entertaining his table with was pointless, ceasing his conversation. It was like he was in a trance, the way he stood from his seat and gravitated toward you. Wordlessly, he plucked you away from your roommates. He figured you were better off with him.

It was clear that you weren’t used to any sort of bar culture, and while he found that endearing, he made sure to look over you. He booted a girl from his group just so he could seat you next to him, all while making sure you didn’t see the nasty glare she gave you. 

Assigning himself as your drink-sitter, he carefully scrutinized whatever you ended up drinking. Any strong liquors that came your way were quickly confiscated, much to Farleigh’s disdain (although he was placated once the extra shots were passed along to him). All you had to your name was a modest mug of beer, which you sipped at tentatively as you tried to make sense of the conversation around you.

You had gotten through one beer, though you were struggling about halfway through your refill. Despite that, Felix was in awe of you. The whining as he took the cup away, the mindlessly giggling at a joke one of the girls told, the fidgeting with the hem of your jumper. How could someone make drinking look so innocent? 

“My face is hot.” “You’ve got a buzz going. It’s quite a look.” “A good one or a bad one?” “A bit of a naughty one.” He quickly earned a punch in the arm from you.

And this was far better than the revisions or the tutoring. To finally discuss something other than academics with you was refreshing. He found himself recounting all of his stories, even the ones he had already told that night, just so he could hear you laugh at everything he said. It was a melody in his ears, a tiny bell jingling beside him.

Once the company began to fall out, Felix took you to get a breath of fresh air just beside the entrance of the pub. “D’you need anyone to take you home?” “Nooo, my roommates are heading back anyways.” “You sure? I can–” “Oh, you’re too kind. Why don’t you have a lover yet?”

The question was so forward and sudden, he couldn’t help but be surprised. You were definitely tipsy.  “Huh…haven’t given much thought to it.” “Well, you should.” “And that means?” “They’d be lucky.”

Felix couldn’t help it; he was out of control, cradling your face into his hands as his heart threatened to leap out of his chest. They were indeed hot, you weren’t lying about that. There was silence, anticipation with a bated breath, and then your lips were all that he felt. If anyone was watching, and they most likely were, it was like he was holding himself back. Jaw tensed, muscles taut, brows scrunched. It almost looked like he was in pain.

And he was in pain, his restraint being tested every second he kissed you. Trying so desperately to not have his way with you, to take you home and screw you into his dorm mattress. That’s not the type of person you were.

But boy, did you make it difficult. The mere act of placing your hands against his chest, pressing your body against his. Again, painfully obvious this wasn’t something you did often, but that made it all the more perfect to him. He intended to keep you that way, which is why he let go.

The confusion that overtook your features made him regret his decision more and more, twisting his insides with guilt for leaving you hanging. Your lips, donning a soft shine, mouthed his name, but any sound went fuzzy in his ears. The more he stared at them, the more that forbidden feeling stirred inside of him.

Mumbling an apology, he abruptly stepped back, not even sure of what he was even doing. He had to get away, head home. It was ironic, to long for you so deeply but to hold himself back from indulging in you. He was never one to shy away from what he desired; it was his very nature, his reputation. But he couldn’t just use a girl like you to scratch one of his sexual itches, how could he bring himself to?

And so, Felix turned his back on you, not uttering another word. He pushed through the crowded walkway in a blind frenzy, ignoring the people who tried to strike up conversation. Never once looking back. 

Soon enough, he heaved the grand doors open to his hall, ready to sleep off the feeling until a sultry voice called to him from his right. Annabel. Apparently she had been waiting for him.

It wasn’t long before she was straddled across his lap, basically eating away at the lower half of his face as she eagerly fumbled with his belt buckle. That’s what turned him off about her. Too eager, too annoying. It played a part as to why he had kept his distance from her, but for that night, she was better than nothing.

As she slipped off his lap to kneel on the messy floor of his dorm, his mind drifted elsewhere. The desperate girl in front of him disappeared, then you were there, just as he left you. Staring up at him behind your obnoxious glasses, your bottom lip trembling. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Would you even know how to do this sort of thing? 

If he allowed himself, he’d guide you, gripping a part of your hair. Not tight enough to hurt you, of course, just enough to get leverage. He’d watch as your pretty lips parted to take him in, taking your sweet time. Your mouth would be soft and hot, your tongue shifting about awkwardly underneath him. He bet that you’d have it down quickly; you were good at most things, being a quick learner. Perhaps there would be a few scrapes from your canines as you bobbed up and down, if he were to be realistic. But the sting was more than alright with him.

Felix always prided in himself for his ability to give a girl a good, long time. Why else would they flock to him by the dozens? So what was so different about you that made him feel like he was already about to burst the seams?

Because it was still you, sickly sweet and serene you, lips wrapped around him and devouring him like the candy you always loved. Your eyes would water, but he’d gladly wipe away each drop that managed to escape. It left him a whiny mess. Sweat prickling at his forehead, ragged breaths heaving his shoulders up and down, white-knuckling your hair.

And when he’d come close, he’d let you know. You didn’t like being caught off-guard. Your heavy disdain for pop-quizzes or his endless pranks of sneaking up behind you made that apparent. But he prided himself in knowing these things about you, that he was able to gather it all from your little ramblings. 

You liked American reality TV. Disliked gel pens. Loved your chips overdone. A ridiculous query crossed his mind. Would you like spitting or swallowing? Or would you rather it all over you? From how your lips were glued to him, it seemed like swallowing. But that made him hesitate. You would never like such a thing. You were squeamish around anything sticky or slimy. Cough syrup, oily or tacky lotions…you hated them. As much as it dismayed him, why would this be any different?

Because it wasn’t you. And as soon as the girl he had taken back to his dorm reappeared, he knew that she could never be you. Nobody could. He was disgusted with himself for dirtying that memory of you. He had turned something so innocent into something so grossly erotic, and he knew he had crossed a line. How could he ever see you the same way again?

He was also disgusted with how Annabel seemed to not care despite his disillusion. She might have been the only girl he had seen that got off on merely sucking someone off. It was genuinely pathetic. Her head was swiftly yanked up, her lips making a “pop” sound.

“Alright, get out.” “What? But we’ve barely done anything, Fe–” “I don’t fuckin’ care. Piss the fuck off!”

Felix thought he would feel bad about kicking Annabel out, especially after she left in tears with her clothes haphazardly buttoned. But he could genuinely not have cared in the slightest; he was already preoccupied, mind filled with guilt after what he had done to you. But did he feel regret? No. That’s what ate at him the most. Someone like him shouldn’t have gone for someone like you. 

Perhaps it was better to try and forget that he kissed you. Kissing you meant opening the floodgates of his feelings, his debauchery. He had to keep that closed so that you could stay as pure as you always were. His perfect girl.

And he would do anything to keep you that way.

to be continued!

a/n: dutifully fulfilling this request by my lovely anon. i wanted to delve more into the selfish, savior complex that he was and i DEFINITELY intend to take it deeper for the next part. again, thank you for the ask! co-written by @hellb4ts! leon, thank you for the many wonderful ideas. and you're welcome for introducing you to saltburn <3 inbox is open for any asks or reqs !

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[corruptedcaps]

Maid for it

“Another day, another mess.” Issy muttered, pushing the door open and stepping into the dim, stale air of the nightclub. Sammy followed close behind, tying her graying hair into a loose bun.

“I don’t know how they do it.” Sammy said, squinting at the leftover chaos. Empty glasses, glittering confetti, and half-crushed cans scattered across the sleek floors. “Every weekend, they come in here acting like they own the place. No respect for anything but themselves.”

Issy snorted, picking up a crumpled cocktail napkin. “The youth of today. They think the world revolves around them. Everything’s a selfie, a status update.”

“Right? Did you see that girl last week when we were on the night shift, the one in the sparkly dress? Spent more time filming herself than dancing.” Sammy shook her head, grabbing the mop.

“Remember when we used to go out? Actually had fun without needing an audience.” Issy said grabbing a trash bag.

Sammy smiled. “Good times, Issy. Good times.”

Issy looked around the club, hands on her hips. “So, where should we start?”

Sammy, already eyeing the far end of the room, groaned. “We should flip for the bathrooms. You know they’re always the worst. I swear, they must turn into animals in there after midnight.”

Issy pulled a coin from her pocket, holding it up with a smirk. “Heads, you do the bathrooms. Tails, I’ll take the hit.”

Issy flicked the coin into the air. It spun, catching the dim light, before landing in her palm. She peeked and grimaced. “Tails. Dammit.”

Sammy chuckled. “Good luck in there. I’ll take the bar.”

With a sigh, Issy grabbed her cleaning supplies and headed toward the bathrooms. The door to the ladies’ restroom creaked open, revealing the usual chaos. Loose makeup smeared across the countertops, lipsticks rolling about, and a few forgotten articles of clothing thrown haphazardly on the floor.

“Same old, same old.” She muttered, shaking her head. As she wiped down the counter, something caught her eye. There, lying next to an abandoned sequined purse, was a black wig.

Issy barely had time to blink before the black wig sprang to life, leaping from her hands and onto her face. “What the hell—!” She gasped, stumbling backward as it crawled across her skin like a living thing.

The wig slithered up her cheeks and over her eyes, settling firmly on top of her head. She reached up to tear it off, but just as her fingers touched the strands, a sharp, sudden pain pierced her scalp, like dozens of tiny needles burrowing in.

“Ow!” Issy yelped, frantically tugging at the wig, but it was on tight, as if fused to her head. Her hands shook, and as the seconds passed, a strange warmth spread through her body. Subtle at first but soon, it grew into an intense heat, like something was shifting beneath her skin.

She stumbled toward the mirror and froze. Her wrinkled skin, the creases she had grown accustomed to over the years, began to smooth out. The sagging around her chin and eyes lifted, disappearing before her eyes. Her body shrank, her waist narrowing, her arms slimming.

Her breath caught in her throat. “What... what’s happening to me?” She whispered, her voice sounding younger, sharper.

Issy stood frozen in front of the mirror as the transformation continued. Her chest began to swell, her old bra straining as her tits grew larger, fuller, and perkier. The sight made her gasp, her hands instinctively moving to her chest, feeling the unfamiliar weight.

“Oh my god.” She groaned as her hands grasped her new sensitive boobs.

Her lips plumped next, slowly puffing out until they were full and glossy, as if she'd just had an expensive treatment. Her fingers twitched as her nails elongated into perfectly manicured, polished claws, no longer the brittle, chipped things she had grown used to. Every detail, every change, unfolded right before her eyes in the bathroom mirror.

At first, her mind raced in panic. “This isn’t right! What’s happening to me?” She could barely recognize herself. Her body was no longer that of a middle-aged woman, but something else entirely. A younger version of herself, but not even that. This version of her was more idealized, almost like one of the women she’d see strutting around the nightclub, basking in attention.

“This... feels kind of... good.” She murmured, a smile creeping across her face.

Issy’s smile widened into a full, self-satisfied smirk as she admired her reflection. She couldn’t stop staring and why would she? She was perfect. Her body was flawless, every curve exactly where it should be, her skin glowing like it had been airbrushed. Her lips curled as she traced a finger along her jawline.

“God, I’m gorgeous.” She purred, the words tasting sweet on her tongue. She tilted her head, catching the light just right, and let out a soft laugh. “No wonder those girls spend all night taking photos. If I looked like this every day, I’d never stop looking at myself.”

Her eyes gleamed as she adjusted her stance, taking on a more bratty posture. “How could anyone not be obsessed with me?” She purred, running her hands over her hips, admiring the perfect hourglass figure staring back at her. She turned, posing, admiring herself from every angle.

Now, she felt invincible, untouchable. No one could match her. Not even the sluts she cleaned up after. “I’m better than them. Better than everyone.”

Issy’s breath caught in her throat as the words echoed in her mind. “Better than everyone.” She repeated slower, taking in the gravity of the statement, the condescension of the words. She blinked, suddenly horrified by the vanity consuming her.

“What am I saying?” She whispered, shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t like those girls, shallow and self-absorbed. She was… a good person, wasn’t she?

“No!” She muttered, forcing herself to look away from the mirror. Her hands shot up to her head, fingers gripping the wig. She tugged, trying to pull it off, but it wouldn’t budge. Instead, a tingling sensation crept across her skin as the hair started to defend itself by hitting her with more changes.

Her maid’s uniform tightened around her body, the fabric hugging every new curve as it shrank higher and higher, separating at the middle. The bottom part morphed into a slick, black leather skirt, clinging to her like a second skin.

The top part relaxed and in fact became bigger, becoming a luxurious and decadent, fur coat draping over her shoulders. Her sensible work bra followed in her new skirts footsteps by turning into a tight leather tube top.

Issy’s hands dropped from her head and ran over the leather, feeling the smooth texture, her fingers grazing the fur. “It’s perfect.” She said, her bratty tone returning and a smirk creeping back onto her face despite herself. She twirled, watching the coat flare out.

She looked better than any girl she had seen walk in or out of that club and the feeling was intoxicating. She knew could any wan eating out of the palm of her hand with just a look. As a maid she was invisible, but looking the way she did now who could ignore her?

And yet there was still a voice in the back of her head urging her, begging her to rip the hair off. The hair was giving her a body to die for but it was also making her more conceited and vain.

“No! This isn’t right! Ohhhh fuck but it feels sooo good! No I have to end it before it’s too late.@ she groaned.

Using what resistance she still had in her, she reached up and grabbed the hair in her hands. Her pretty nailed fingers wrapping around as many strands as possible. With one big tug she hoped it could at least come a little loose but the hair had one last card to play.

All at once Issy felt a surge of heat flow to her pussy and she felt it tighten to an extreme she didn’t know was possible. The very act was making her cum like never before, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“Ohhhhh goddddd yessss!” She moaned loudly. Images of hot guys railing her in the very bathroom she was in filled her mind and made her cum again. She pictures herself strutting through the club like it was a buffet, choosing any man she wanted. She would be the best sec they ever had and she would make sure they spoilt her as rotten as her soul.

“Why fight it?” The thought slithered into her mind like an invader she couldn’t argue with. “I deserve this.”

Issy’s eyes rolled back to normal but there was a change instantly in them. They were no longer soft and caring eyes, instead they sparkled with spoilt narcissism. She stared at her reflection, the smirk growing wider, her eyes gleaming with pride. “Of course I fucking deserve this.” She said, the words slipping out effortlessly. She felt a surge of power, a thrill that coursed through her veins.

“I’m never going back to being some fucking loser maid again.” She declared, her voice full of conviction. The memory of her old self, ordinary and invisible, was pathetic. She sneered at the thought.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Sammy’s voice echoed off the tiles. “Issy, are you ok in here? I heard a moan of pain.” She called, her tone impatient. But as she stepped inside, she froze, her eyes going wide. “What the hell…?”

Standing in front of the mirror was a woman Sammy barely recognized. Issy, or at least what was left of her, turned slowly with a bored expression. “Relax loser, haven't you ever seen perfection before. Of course you haven’t just look at you.” She drawled, rolling her eyes.

Sammy’s jaw dropped as Issy picked up a glittering sequin bag from the counter. Unzipping it, she pulled out a thick wad of cash, a grin spreading across her face. “Look at this, my day just keeps getting better.” Issy purred.

Sammy stepped forward, her voice shaking. “Issy I don't know what happened to you, but you can't keep that cash and we need to get you help to reverse whatever the hell happened to you!”

Issy scoffed, flipping through the cash. She playfully put it up to her face like it was a telephone. “Hello police? Yes my friend put on a sexy black wig and turned in to the hottest bitch I've ever seen. Get real loser, even if there was a way to reverse this why the fuck would I want to go back to that pathetic loser I was?”

Sammy grabbed her by the arm. “Because this isn't you, Issy.”

Issy yanked her arm free, her eyes flashing. “You're right, I'm not Issy anymore. That weak, invisible woman is dead. I’m Bella now. And Bella gets everything she wants.”

Sammy’s heart raced as she backed away, her eyes darting between Bella and the door. “I’m going to find help. We’ll figure out how to take that wig off, Issy, I swear.” she said, her voice firm but shaking.

Just as Sammy reached for the door, Bella moved with lightning speed, slamming it shut with a loud bang. Sammy froze, staring at her in disbelief. “What are you doing?” She asked, fear creeping into her voice.

Bella leaned in, her eyes gleaming with a dark, twisted delight. “I can’t have anyone knowing about my wonderfully evil hair now can I? So, you’re just going to have to join me… Samantha.” She said slowly, her voice dripping with malice.

Sammy flinched at the sound of her full name, her body tensing as Bella ran her hands through her long luxurious hair, pulling thick chunks from her head that seemed to instantly regenerate. Without effort she twisted the clumps it into a sleek ponytail. Before Sammy could react, Bella flung it at her.

“No!” Sammy shrieked, trying to duck away, but the hair came to life midair, writhing and twisting like a serpent. It latched onto her arm, tightening with terrifying strength. Sammy gasped, frantically tugging at it, but the hair slithered up her arm, relentless, heading straight for her head.

“Get it off me!” She cried, her voice desperate. But Bella only smiled, cold and sinister.

“Don’t fight it, Samantha. You’ll love being a hawt bitch.” Bella purred.

Bella stood back, her arms crossed, watching with gleeful anticipation as the living hair slithered up Sammy’s arm and latched onto her head. Sammy let out a muffled scream, clawing at the strands as they dug into her scalp, but it was no use. The transformation had already begun.

Bella’s grin widened as she saw Sammy’s body start to change. Her chest swelled, her boobs growing fuller and rounder, the fabric of her cleaning uniform tightening around her frame. Sammy’s lips plumped next, growing into a pouty, perfect shape as if they had been touched by a masterful surgeon, designed to be prefect for dick sucking. Her wrinkles faded before Bella's eyes, years melting off her face as her skin smoothed into a flawless, youthful complexion.

Sammy’s body slimmed and reshaped, her figure becoming athletic and toned, curves in all the right places. Her old exhausted, middle-aged self was disappearing by the second. Bella felt a surge of satisfaction and pride watching the transformation unfold, seeing Sammy’s resistance fade.

Sammy’s eyes, once wide with panic, began to dull, her expression shifting from fear to something colder, more detached. Her lips, once trembling, now settled into a perfect, pouty smirk.

Sammy’s maid outfit began to shift, the fabric tightening and shrinking against her changing body. Her uniform morphed, the dull cloth replaced by sleek black leather that hugged her hips, forming a short, revealing skirt. Her top dissolved into a thin black string bra that left little to the imagination, her big tits barely being held by it.

A shiny black puffer coat materialized around her shoulders, draping loosely and adding a seductive edge to the ensemble.

Bella grinned in approval. “Now that’s more like it. Doesn’t that feel better, Samantha?”

Samantha turned to the mirror, her new reflection staring back with cold confidence. She ran her hands over her curves, admiring how her new clothes showed off her perfectly tight new body.

She turned to Bella, her eyes gleaming with approval. She took the cash from her friend’s hand and held it up to her face, mirroring the fake phone call Bella had done earlier. "Hello police? I want to report a crime. The crime of looking oh being a bad bitch." She said sticking her tongue out playfully.

“Thanks babe. You were right, I do love being a hawt bitch. I was meant to be this beautiful.” Samantha said, handing the cash back to Bella she turned back to her reflection. Bella sadled up next to her and the two beauties primped and admired themselves. Samantha grinned pushing her tits out at her reflection.

“We’re going to have so much fun. Imagine the broken hearts we’ll leave behind, the envious bitches watching us, desperate to keep up. We’ll show all those poser girls what it really means to be spoiled brats.” Bella said, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

Samantha chuckled, tossing her hair back. “They’ll hate us, but they’ll wish they were us.”

Bella nodded. "Of course but they never will be because we were maid for this."

THE END

[userchai]

Hey Batty, can we get Steve teaching Eddie how to eat reader out? maybe he makes Eddie lay down right next to him so he can see the way Steve runs his tongue against reader!

((also, loving all the content you’ve been uploading lately, you’re my favorite writer!))

Pass The Eggnog

Steddie x Fem!Reader Smut

wordcount: 2.2K

thank you so much for this request nonny, I had so much fun writing this! feedback is always welcome! 18+ only!

warnings- cunnilingus, mlm, threesome, drunkenness, spit, cum, degradation, mfm, Steve x Eddie. Dom steve. Steve slaps Eddie once. please come to me with anything I may have missed!!

You weren’t one for eggnog, but how could you pass it up when Eddie was standing next to you, a devilish grin overtaking his handsome face, as he held a Christmas mug with cute gingerbread men towards you. “Cmon sugar, this is good eggnog.” He said, laughing as you wrinkled your nose at him and rolled your eyes. “I know why it’s ’good’ Eddie you’ve spiked it.” You say, leaning back onto Steve as he wraps his toned arms around your middle, pulling you close. “Exactly, what’s a Christmas party without spiked eggnog anyway? So Sorry Stevie, but your parties aren’t quite what they once were.” Steve huffs behind you, his ego taking a hit as he acts nonchalant at the comment. “Whatever Munson, give me another one of those, if I’m going to make it through the night with you I need to be drunk.” Eddie smiles and grabs another glass of his ‘specialty’ as he liked to call it, walking over to Steve and bowing down to him while holding the glass high above his head. “Oh King Steve, please accept this lowly peasants’ offering.” Steve snatched it out of his hands, downing it quickly as Eddie laughed wildly, standing back up to lean back against the kitchen counter.

Most of the people that had bothered to show up to the party had left hours ago, leaving you with Steve and Eddie. Steve had dropped Dustin off at his house before coming back home, the three of you standing in the kitchen drinking more and more as the hours passed. Your mind felt fuzzy as you listened to another argument that Eddie and Steve were engaged in, you didn’t know what it was about, having zoned out at the start of it. You only snapped back to reality when Steve nudged you, looking at you expectantly with his honey brown eyes. “What?” You say, glancing between the both of them, noticing a blush breaking out across Eddie’s cheeks.

“Seems like Eds has a crush on you baby.” Steve whispers against your ear, leaning his chin down until it touches your shoulder, you glance back at Eddie, your brain swimming with thoughts that you couldn’t quite decipher because of the alcohol coursing its way through your body. “Y-you do?” You say timidly, as Eddie nods shyly, twirling a piece of his curls between his pointer finger and thumb before chewing on the end nervously. You stand in the middle of the Harrington’s kitchen confused, and slightly in shock, how had they even gotten on the subject of Eddie liking you? More importantly, how was Steve not blowing a fuse right now at the idea of his best friend liking you? You turn around and look at Steve, moving some of his hair away from his eyes from where it had fallen down from its gelled up perfection. “What do you think about that baby?” You ask, nervously chewing your lip as you feel chills run through your body, you could feel Eddie staring at you from where he stood behind you. Your breath was caught in your throat as a dark look passed over Steve’s features.

You slowly back up as Steve advances towards you and Eddie, he walks you back until you’re pressed up against the kitchen counter. Your bodies smashed up against each other as he leans down close to your face, your noses bumping against each other. You hold your breath In anticipation of what he could possibly say about this whole situation, your question was quickly answered as Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand, bringing it towards you, placing it behind you against the swell of your ass. Your eyes widen as you look up at him. “I think this is all I’ve wanted for a long time, baby. We’ve talked about this before… Eddie and I.” Steve whispers looking over at the older man, who couldn’t stop shuffling around from his nerves, his hand trembling against your body as Steve gripped it, not allowing him to move.

You hold completely still as Steve leans down towards your ear again, smirking as he glances at Eddie, “The two of you have about ten seconds to get in my room, and strip your clothes off or you’ll suffer the consequences. Do you want this princess?” He asks, even in situations where he was full of nothing but pure lust he always made sure you were comfortable with what was going on. You nod, squeezing your legs together as Eddie moves his hand down lower, squeezing your flesh, his rings pressing harshly against you. “Y-yes Sir, I want this, want you and Eddie.” You whimper out.

———————————————————————

You couldn’t fully grasp what was going on, other than hands touching you absolutely everywhere, Eddie’s rings leaving marks on your skin from how hard he was gripping onto you. Your bodies pressed against each other as you made out slowly, the way he kissed was different from Steve, but in the best ways. His lips were soft, the stubble around his top lip was scratching against you, tickling you and causing a delicious friction you couldn’t get enough of. Steve was standing at the foot of his bed, watching you and Eddie helplessly grinding against each other, his own hard on was straining against his sweats, creating a wet patch in the fabric, making it stick to his body uncomfortably. He would think of himself in a minute, for now he was enjoying the show. Sweet little virgin Eddie, pussy drunk already, and all you were doing was kissing him.

“Look at the both of you, pathetic little sluts aren’t you?” Steve all but growls out as he makes his way onto the bed next to you, reaching down to make you stop kissing Eddie. You whine at the loss of his lips against yours, but before you can protest even further Steve’s telling you to open your mouth. You throb at his words, knowing what was coming as you tilt your chin up to him, sticking your tongue out as far as you can. He spits directly onto it before two of his fingers are fucking into the back of your throat. “See that Eds? She’s a good little pet, does anything I ask of her. If you’re my good boy I’ll let you have her however you want.” Steve says, holding back a laugh at Eddie’s lust blown eyes, his lips raw from kissing, curls wild and tangled from where your hands were gripping them. He nods dumbly and watches as you drool and gag around Steve’s long fingers. Steve chuckles as he slaps Eddie’s face with the hand that isn’t in your mouth, gripping it between his fingers and making Eddie meet his gaze. “Wanna learn how to eat her pretty pussy? I know you do, it’s so good baby, let me show you.” He says, grabbing you and pushing you off of Eddie, pinning your body down as he works your skirt down your legs quickly. Eddie sits up quickly, his chest heaving from how hard he was breathing. He watches as you and Steve strip his clothes off, yours having been partially taken off before Steve came into the bedroom. You turn to meet his gaze, his brown eyes now black, you smile at him and bite your lip as Steve spreads your legs, motioning for Eddie to come closer. The cold air against your pussy heightens your senses, you were soaked, it was all over the inside of your thighs, running down onto the bed underneath you, ruining the sheets. You sit up on your elbows and watch as Eddie and Steve lay on their stomach’s in front of you.

“I’ll go first, so you can see exactly how she likes it, and then I’m gonna hold your head against her until you’re absolutely soaked in her cum. Is that what you want, pretty boy?” Steve asks, Eddie nodding pathetically next to him, holding onto one of your legs gently and turning his eyes upon you, “You’re so pretty.” He whispers out, your heart beating harder at his sweet words, you couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol making him feel this way towards you, but you didn’t care right now, you just wanted both of them to ruin you. You hold your breath as Steve blows warm air against the inside of your thighs, his lips grazing against you close enough to where you need him but not letting you get what you really want. You tremble as he gently runs his fingers through your slit, running them up to the top of your pussy, spreading the lips apart before he’s moaning, smiling up at you. “There’s that pretty little clit, look how hard it is, is that all because of Eddie baby?” You moan out, clenching around nothing as you nod, your mind already floating through space as you feel him spit right against your clit before he’s wrapping his soft lips around you, sucking like it’s the last thing he would ever do.

Your loud moans echo around the room, followed by Steve pulling back to whisper praises every few seconds, edging you as he licks from your hole up to your clit over and over again. Eddie’s eyes are locked onto Steve’s mouth against you, his cock aching he was sure he could cum just from watching this. He’s rutting against the bed softly, trying to relieve some of the pressure. Steve pulls back, a string of his spit connecting from his lips to your pussy, Eddie leaning over and sucking it off of his bottom lip, moaning as Steve kisses him. Their tongues dance against each other as you watch. “Fuck, Eddie, Steve, oh my god.” You breathe out, feeling close to tears at the loss of Steve’s mouth against you. “I think she needs you now, cmon.” Steve mumbles against Eddie, scooting over and pushing Eddie’s face towards you, smiling as Eddie whines at the harsh grip Steve has on his hair. Eddie’s tongue lolls out of his mouth, as you push your hips down toward him and attempt to feel anything, he wraps his inked arms around your legs, pulling you down and timidly licking a fat stripe up to your clit. You were so worked up at this point it hurt and all you could think about was cumming on Eddie’s face.

———————————————————————-

Eddie lapped against your pussy like a starved man. His long tongue pushing inside of you reaching places Steve hadn’t been able to get to with his own tongue. “Fuck me Eddie please!” You cry out, your legs shaking as he pushes them farther apart, exposing you to him, allowing him access to devour you however he pleased. “Steve m-must be a good teacher.” You whisper out laughing slightly, Steve smiles against your neck from his position next to you, kissing you gently on your soft spot. “Maybe baby, but I think Eddie was just that hungry for you, he’s never even fucked a pussy before and he already has you about to cum.” He said, laughing darkly. Eddie groans from his position as you and Steve talk about him like he’s not even there. You let out a particularly loud moan when Steve attaches his mouth to one of your nipples, your back arching up, “Can’t anymore, gonna cum, gonna cum, fuck I’m cumming.” You gasp out, Eddie pulls away in shock as your orgasm overtakes you, you’re on another planet as you soak his mouth, he sticks his tongue out trying to catch every last drop as he moans obscenely.

Your whole body trembles as you reach for the both of them, silently asking for them to kiss you, Eddie crawls up next to you and takes turns kissing you, smiling as he watches you kiss Steve softly. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever done.” He says, leaning over to kiss Steve when he pulls away from you. Steve smiles right back at him as they pull away from each other. “Who said we’re done, Big Boy?” He says, taunting Eddie with the nickname that he gave to Steve. A smile creeps its way onto your face as you lean back against the headboard, “Go on then boys, put on a show for me.” You say, Steve raises his eyebrows at your boldness shaking his head a little before he’s kissing your cheek gently, whispering how much he loves you into your ear. You gently rub his arm before pushing him towards Eddie, you knew they had wanted each other for a long time, and getting to watch this play out had to be the hottest thing you’d ever seen. Steve goes to grab Eddie, but before he can Eddie is leaning up towards you, kissing you softly before whispering a thank you, allowing Steve to pull him away, their bodies tangling together as they kiss. The roles have suddenly reversed and now it’s you telling them how they’re your good boys, telling them how slutty they are and laughing at the whines that escape their mouths. Their hands exploring places they never thought they would be able to as they float away in a peaceful bliss of each other. Smiling over at you every now and then and blowing you kisses.

Eddie was wrong, you thought. Steve still knew how to throw a hell of a party, he just needed a little spiked eggnog.

tag list 🏷️

@slutty-thevampireslayer @justsheerfilth1 @girlfuckthatwhore @lithium80sblog

[astralnymphh]

𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.

summary: swept under your fossil gray wool blanket, a body deprived of slumber and living the effects of back-bending chores all around the farmhouse has you fatigued and yearning to supply the last ounce of energy with a bit of literature. eventually, ellie will set that book on rain check, and your fatigue, ..and her boredom. honestly, she'll definitely be the one to steal your energy instead of the book.  reader discretion advised: nsfw, mdni, usual playful bickering, one second of cuddiling, poetic ahh writing, very mild foreplay, hella dirty talk, lotsa swearing, oral (receiving) spitting, clit stim (receiving), petnames (babe, baby, good girl) footnotes: word count (2k), masterlist, palestine masterpost, read this, written circa 2023. (hence the writing style change)

radiance incarnate is what lies behind the glass pane just ahead of your bed-post. lunar light outstanding the dark night, never lacking a few stars that flecked the sky above the nocturnal forest, at least what you could perceive through a regular sized window. fusing with the comfortability of your mattress and cloaked in a warm wool blanket makes for a nice end-of-the-day reward while you immerse yourself in the realm of 'the odyssey'. ellie's not in bed. not in the room. she's presumably downstairs finishing up something, so not a clue of her coming is on your mind.

you wriggle around the soft bed altering your position to have one leg bent and the other draped over, the book upheld by the bulk of your thigh making it easier to flip through. page by page, word by word, space and time diminishes around you and is replaced by this entrancing world of mycenaean greece portraying the aegean sea. the room was dimly lit and still, minus the muted sounds of an owl and crickets chirping beyond the wooden walls. serenity lasts for a good half hour before an upsurge of hard rubber footsteps wake the floor by the bedroom door to the right of you.

"hey babe- ooh, what'cha reading?" ellie's voice grapples your focus to her profile, attired in her white shirt, grubby denim and converse that look like they've been dragged to hell.

"the odyssey." you respond as she begins to lurk closer, arms crossed.

she swipes her tongue across her lips, saying, "y'know.. savage starlight might be more.. fun to read?" in an obviously sarcastic note, creasing her brows together accompanying a brass smirk.

"to you, maybe. I actually enjoy this a lot." you cave the book over your chest, sitting like a roof, "you just don't have a mature taste."

"whadda'ya mean? comics are for everyone, and actually easy to understand." she clambers atop of your hips, descending her face upon you, "unlike the odyssey."

"pshh, the odyssey is a classic." you highlight.

"you're just mad that im right." 

you pucker a pout, slowly lifting the book between your noses till ellie knocks it down plumb on your collarbone.

"ah-uh," she intently strikes spires into your eyes with her persuasive peer, narrowing those lids in an undeniably tantalizing way, "can't ignore this now."

"you're right." you spat out and divided the space with your book again.

"c'mon.." she prys the book from your limp grasp, leaving it astray to the bed adjacent to you, "I'm here now, aren't I?" a humbly intimate whisper croaks from her toothy grin.

you banish your sight to the headboard above, pondering the words that would wisp from your lips, "I have a few pages left, babe, then we'll do whatever.."

"mmk, 'gonna lay on you though." she giggles and shuffles along the length of you, interlacing your limbs together and smushing her cheek on your stomach. her arms swathe your hips and tuck underneath your butt.

the book diverged from your fingertips finds its way back, cuddled between your thumbs and eclipses ellie's head from your vision. your pupils root back to the muster of sentences lining the page, with a certain breath gusting onto your mildly exposed midriff.

a scant minute survives before a husk is heard, "mmph- so warm.." the tip of her nose drags on your skin as she faces downward, marking an indulgent smooch to your abdomen. 

that brought a melliferous smile to draw out, instilled with admiration from her speckled kisses. it anchors your attention unwillingly when these kisses continue but you'd rather void it and tread on with reading as ellie treads on with a rampancy of taunting kisses. normally, this'd be blasé, but tonight, it's turning your tides.

ellie muffles, "wann' kiss every inch.." her nibbles subside in target of your navel, nuzzling on the pouch of your belly and biting your shorts' band, "fuck.."

"els."

"mhm?"

"what're up to?" the book slants down.

"you."

"elsies.." 

"just showin' my love.." her tone airs up and turns raspy. 

"I think it's more than that." you dig at her transparent peak in sensuality and prod her foot with yours.

ellie can't necessarily disprove this, she was blatantly horny but wanted to keep that 'under the covers' till you shared the feeling outwardly. a shameless smirk paints her mouth regardless, "y'know what I really wanna do?"

"what?"

a gnaw at her lower lip fracts the answer briefly, uttering, "I wanna eat your fucking pussy." and blunt she was, verdant eyes fastened to yours. she's so eager for you, clawing at your loins.

a shudder bolts the extent of your nerves and you clench around nothing but a throb at the contents of her question, visibly ruffled up by it, "babe.." 

"can I?"

nary a gloom of doubt inhabits your mind, the way she's laying on your body, patient to taste you revs you up like a torrent of arousal. oh my fucking goddess. it's making you go wild.

"yes.." 

"shit- m'kay, lemme just.." ellie wrinkles up the sheet in her fist, tossing it overhead till her head was obscured by it. the amber hue of her hair is subtle under the thin pearly sheet as she slithers down between the interstice of your thighs.

maybe the now carnal environment made it inconvenient to carry on with the perusal of your book, but you're elevating it back up from your sternum regardless. the vivid thought of her eating you out while you read is a bit elating, is it not?

ellie's cunning lips park at the epitome of your core, locking her biceps under your slack legs and dangling her still shoe-clad feet off the beds' brink.

"can't wait to see that beautiful fucking pussy.." her veiled voice has strings of raw ardor plucking in her throttle rippling onto your clothed entrance with a muggy pant on every word.

an unheard gulp passes through to the trench of your chest, sending out a reflex of sweet sensations to your pelvis, whimpering, "mhh- ellie.."

"shhhshhh.. i got'chu.." 

she begins to pleat your panties over themselves and slip them off your legs, whizzing them away to some lifeless nook of the tucked-in sheets.

"fuck.. shit-" ellie heaves in awe, even day after day of seeing you bare, it's so titillating to her, drool is abandoning her lips.

the paragraphs living on the pages merge into an unintelligible blob as your vision drowses and the only sensation you can detect is her breath lathering your exposed slit. an open 'ptui' is heard prior to a wet glob landing on your clit and evoking a jolt from your body.

"so sensitive.." she pokes fun at your reaction, slapping her digits down on your sappy pussy and rubbing the spit through your folds, which to much avail, juts your body again.

"fck!" you hack out a swear at each writhe and prod.

"yeah, like that?" 

the grip on your book tightens, causing it to tremor in your shaky hold.

"gonna taste so fuckin' good, mmh.." she murmurs to herself but you catch the gist since immediately after her lips envelop your clit and enlist deft torpedo laps to it.

a heap of pleasurous pricks throb in your cunt and garner a gentle mewl from your chords, whining, "gh- mhhhn.." tenderly in growing bliss.

ellie laps your clit in brisk flicks while sucking it up with noises similar to kissing resounding through the sheer fabric cascading over her head.

you observe the cover moving with every mild thrust of her head, creasing and shuffling with the halo of her hair. a hand prowls from the sheets' hem and searches for anywhere to rest, to which you beckon it to your breast.

she realizes this and gives it duo squeezes for good measure and her unemployed fingers knead the squishy flesh of your ass, all while smirking.

"mmhh~ I wanna see you.." you mumble into the whafted-shut book, knocking off the already sliding sheet with your knee to reveal a flushed ellie with her nose buried in your crotch, her pretty face poised between your thighs, stuffed in your cunt.

her irises hark this newfound horizon before her and diffuse an intense glare that shudders your soul, sinking her lips deeper into those parted folds and drinking up your sticky deluge.

her mouth disconnects with threads of saliva and slick following, "this pussy tastes s'fucking divine, you know that right?"

"y-yeah.."

"could go down n'you for breakfast, lunch n' dinner.. fuck- baby.." 

ellie retreats her keen tongue, dipping into your entrance and soaking up the lewd coating of your walls. oral sounds of her mouth practically having a make-out sesh with your puffy lips overflow the room and bounce like an echo betwixt your ears.

"ohh my godd.." your moans enhance and amplify in the sea of ebbing relief and flowing pleasure.

her pecan speckled skin tinted with rose is glazed with a sinful slick from how far she pushed her face in, a terribly arousing sight to behold when she withdraws to praise her own work.

"how's m'pretty girl doing?"

"s-so.. closee.."

"want' you to moan my name when you do, yeah?"

"o-okay.."

"I wanna know how fuckin' good I make you feel." her sharp curses stay unyielding in her expression.

"mh-mhghmm.." your throat clogs up in anticipation.

ellie pours over your bare stature one last time before gripping the back of your knees and pushing them up till your feet meet the sky.

"that's better."

her lips smash into your cunt once again and prove to be frothing with a craving for you, clenched brows and grunting into your groin intently. she explores every attainable inch like she knows it, licking up your pre-cum like it's the last fucking meal on earth.

"oh- fuck!" you wail out, webbing your fingers in her frizzed up locks by habit.

her inhuman speeds catch you out of the blue, binding her tastebuds with your natural taste and delighted in every millisecond of it. she hoists onto her knees and hovers over your bottom half, wriggling her tongue over your entire opening and sending that abused clit into overdrive.

"el-ell.. ellie! i can't fucki- ah!" a high squeak blazes from your gullet.

she blurts out, "cum on m'fuckin' face." submerged in your folds.

"els.. mh!"

it's the end for you when she starts purposefully moaning on your bud, finally ushering your climax to dull your senses and numbfuck your consciousness. your reality is painted with a globe of starlight just by the heavenly feeling of it.

"good girl..-fck, there there..." ellies gingerly tone conflicts with her devilish play, drinking up the breach of cum gushing from your orgasm.

"oof.. jeez.." you recline your legs once her hands flee, huffing your way down from the celestial heavens.

ellie clambers up and collapses next to you, a smug and prideful visage staring back at your profile. 

"did ya finish those pages?"

"erm, no." 

she butts off a laugh, "eh, well.." her palm advances your bangs, hooking them behind the conch of your ear, "ended up having more fun, yeah?'

"i- yeah.. I guess.."

"you guess?"

"coulda been a lot better."

"whaaaat?" she mimicked an offended countenance.

"like it's nothing to write home about-"

"u're just trynna rile me up!"

"what if I am?" you boldy tease, tutting your skull side-to-side.

and that's ellie's one weakness, teasing. her brows hike, hollering "ohhh- I see how it is!" and rolls on top of you and thrusts her pelvis down with clear intention, "c'mere-"

"fhmm--" her willowy finger seals your lips, heeding the provocation you've cast into her mind.

"you're on."

[melmac78]

Some days… you just need to wear your tie dye fused glass jewelry even if it doesn’t quite make sense.

Seriously: this is probably my most true to the use of the glass set. The rest I was able to piece into more dramatic or dynamic pieces.

[whorekneecentral]

merry smutmas series

hi besties!! since I'm skipping out on kinktober this year, I figured I wouldn’t be fair for me to leave you guys without some sort of holiday treat so here we go again. 

I won’t be able to fit everyone into this series cause with would have taken me forever so between classes and other fics, I’ve been working on this since august lmao. I hope y’all enjoy these as much as I enjoyed writing it &lt;33 // massive thank you to @oconso for the banners and to @themandaloriansdiaries for all the help plotting and for listening to my complaining <3

running from: November 1st to December 31st - every Tuesday, Thursday and on the weekends

tagged under: merry smutmas xoxo 

November 1st: Sebastian Vettel - Sticky Fingers 

Your husband spends his first Christmas at home since his retirement and he went a little.. a lot over board. 

November 4th: Trent Alexander Arnold - As Red As My Stockings 

Trent’s crush on the pretty physio is well known amongst the players. They make sure to help him fulfil one last Christmas wish before you all head home for the holidays.

November 5th: Pato O’Ward - Snow Storms 

Your boyfriend insists the roads are fine to drive despite the massive incoming snow storm; as someone who grew up in cold weather, you knew better. yet, there you were stuck on the side of the road with him in the snow. 

November 7th: Ruben Dias - Miss Me, Miss Me

Your brother holds his annual Christmas party and you’re forced to spend the afternoon with the one person you had been avoiding all season but tis’ the season you guess. (stones!reader)

November 9th: Pierre Gasly - Cocoa

You have your boyfriend drive all around the city until you find the one thing you were looking for. When you finally find it, you decide you want something else. 

November 11th: Ben Chilwell - Snowflakes On The Glass 

Ben insists on having a snowball fight when he wakes up to the massive snowfall but you want nothing more than to stay in bed. 

November 12th: Kimi Raikkonen - Only The Best For You 

Kimi spends the holidays with his old friends. He doesn’t forget you; bringing you exactly what you had been wishing for and you make sure to thank him.. properly. (dad’s best friend!kimi) 

November 14th: Lucas Paquetá - Spin Me Around 

Lucas busts out the champagne and the streamers to celebrate the new years in your new place. 

November 16th: Yuki Tsunoda - Sous Chef 

Yuki finds himself more fascinated by the woman cooking than the food on his plate for once. (chef!reader) 

November 18th: Erling Haaland - Christmas On The Farm 

Erling takes you home to spend the holidays at the Haaland Family Farm and you two end up being the only ones there. 

November 19th: Lance Stroll - Old Friends 

Lance gets an invitation to an old teammate’s place to ring in the new year but he finds himself too distracted by someone in particular to care about the ball dropping (vettel!reader)

November 21st: Jude Bellingham - Ugliest Sweater Wins

Jude is invited to Luka’s Christmas party, an ugly Christmas sweater party to be exact. It took a bit of convincing but you got him to go. 

November 23rd: Daniel Ricciardo - The Flash Of The Camera 

You enlist Daniel to help you with your Christmas gift for him. 

November 25th: John Stones - Black Out 

Your boyfriend blows a fuse with the Christmas lights and you’re stuck in the dark, but you find a way to make the best of it. 

November 26th: Fernando Alonso - Your Pick 

Fernando enlists the help of a certain someone to get his Christmas shopping done but the list is oddly familiar (pr officer!reader)  

November 28th: Kostas Tsimikas - The Smell Of The Holidays 

You over baked for your niece’s holiday bake sale so you do the neighbourly thing and share with your neighbour, Kostas and his two puppies.

November 30th: Toto Wolff - Winter Wonderland 

Your husband skips out on Christmas every year due to work but this year, he ends up in London. You make it your mission to introduce him to some holiday fun.

December 2nd: Christian Pulisic - Ho Ho Hoe

You find a pair of Christmas boxers in Christian’s drawers and decide to tease him about it. 

December 3rd: Mick Schumacher - Merry Ruff-mas 

Angie goes missing the day before Christmas and Mick finds her at the neighbouring ranch, wrapped up with ribbon and bows. 

December 5th: Jordan Henderson - Shivers

Jordan comes in after shovelling the driveway and keeps trying to love on you. You tell him that you can feel how cold he is but he makes sure to show you what cold really feels like. 

December 7th: Lewis Hamilton - Tis’ The Season 

An old friend finds his way to you front door and no matter how much you try to get rid of him, you can’t. 

December 9th: Dominik Szoboszlai - Come Home 

The two of you are separated over the holidays and you’re missing each other a little too much to keep this going. 

December 10th: Charles Leclerc - The Night Before Christmas 

A massive snow storm delays Charles’ flight home for the holidays and you both begin to give up hope but a Christmas miracle occurs.

December 12th: Virgil Van Dijk - Holiday Greetings 

You send your old friend a Christmas card every year and when he sees that a certain someone was no longer in the picture, he pays you a long overdue visit. 

December 14th: Mark Webber - A New Term 

You send your professor an email over the winter break and the man wonders why you’re still working, urging you to come out and relax like everyone else. (Professor!Webber) 

December 16th: Thiago Alcantara - Bubbles 

You find yourself aching from all the holiday prep and your husband being the good man that he was, makes sure you’re feeling okay after a long day. 

December 17th: Jenson Button - A Sandy Christmas 

Jenson takes you on a dream vacation over the holidays but still makes sure you’ve got a gift to open come Christmas morning. (Sugar Daddy!Jenson) 

December 19th: Kylian Mbappe - Family’s Growing 

Kylian finds himself swooning over how good you are with his niece and nephew, the thought of having a family with you spins around his head. 

December 21st: Carlos Sainz Jr - Traditions 

Coming back from Christmas with your family, the two of you return to Spain to celebrate new years with his family and all their traditions. 

December 23rd: Andy Robertson - Mistletoe Means Kisses 

The overpowering smell of mistletoe hits you when you walk into he house, your husband came up with his own plan while you were out. 

December 24th: George Russell - A New Tradition 

You and George spend your first Christmas together and you mash together the traditions from both of your families. 

December 26th: Jack Grealish - Always Around 

A wild new years night out leaves you bumping the same person over and over again. 

December 28th: Esteban Ocon - The Gift Of Giving 

Esteban takes a liking to the barista that works at the cafe near his place. He finally works up the courage to ask her out in time for the holidays. 

December 30th: Sergio Ramos - Secret Santa 

The players and the staff play secret Santa every year; they write a letter, toss in a box and everyone picks. Sergio some how lands on the person he’s always had a soft spot for. 

December 31st: Max Verstappen - Time Is Running Out 

Max wasn’t one for resolutions but as the clock counts down the hours to new years, he finds himself running to resolve the biggest resolution on his list; you. 

[calamarikitty]

Hazbin Hotel Redesigns - Part Three!

the hotel attendees are here, along with cherri and mimzy!

individual pngs and design notes under cut

Anthony "Angel Dust" - He/him, trans man, gay

you best believe he has extra legs now! this makes him an anomaly in the industry and grew his popularity.

all of his outfits are like those dumb, tacky sexy halloween costumes. his most used persona is a sexy mafia boss.

he equates his self-worth to his sex appeal and all of his outfits are normal things made 'sexy'

he is more built than he is in the show because i felt like it

spider mandibles and abdomen! for fun! also extra eyes and cool spiderweb eyelashes

also kept his little BANG! gun from one of his earlier designs because i love it so much

also completely unrelated but i just now realized that both angel and molly have drug-related names and i just think that's genuinely so smart.

Sir Pentious - He/him, cis man, straight

just realized that the transparency on his tail is weird so just pretend it's intentional texture shh!

didn't really change his design tbh. i kind of already like it! i just wanted to make him look more cartoon-villainy.

basically just a redraw in my own style

one thing i think he deserves though are silly little mad-scientist swirly glasses.

Cherri Bomb - Any pronouns, bigender, unlabeled

gave them a cyber goth look! i think that she definitely deserved to be more punky.

i wanted everything abt her to be super asymmetrical. i honestly love the different shoe concept that she has in her original design but bro deserves two shoes of the same height so she's not tripping over herself constantly.

the dreads(?) end in a fuse shape because i think that's SUCH a fun reference to her love for pyrotechnics. i tried to include as much explosion shapes as i could.

lots of piercings! stretched septum, stretched ears, snakebites, double nostril, you name it, she probably has it.

also gave her more freckles! she reminds me of freckled strawberry lemonade and idk why. also just thought lime green was such a pleasing accent color for her and i kind of dig it

she's still got her cool goggles and is a badass pyromaniac

Mimzy - She/her, cis woman, straight

my god i have so many qualms with mimzy's original design!!!! i need her to be more glamorous! more fun!

i decided to go a COMPLETELY different route with the colors this time. she is COOL colored now. spooky!

a lot of hazbin sinners are based on specific animals or insects, and i find it confusing that she has no cohesive theming. i decided to take some liberty and make her peacock themed!

i thought this really fit with her glamorous and extravagant nature.

i also wanted to make her hooked nose more prominent, and also give her the awesome feather boa she deserves

i was super scared abt changing the colors so drastically at first, but i absolutely love how she turned out. im also just a sucker for peacock theming though

[ddejavvu]

For MVM how about dbf hotch x reader where she gets drunk and she starts getting clingy and lovey around him,completely forgetting her dad's there and Aaron has to try to sneak them both away for a second

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

this post is 18+ (and so are its characters), minors dni.

Aaron knows from experience that wine is dangerous for you. Not because you're an angry drunk, or because you drink so much that you black out and need supervision. No, it's because you're a clingy drunk.

It's acceptable, endearing even, when you're at his place. When he's sitting on his couch and you're smushing yourself so hard against him that he thinks you'll fuse and become one. When you kiss his nose and trail downwards in smeary smooches that leave his face burning and his chest shaking with laughter, it's fun. But now, it's a nightmare.

Your dad is sitting two feet away from you, only half paying attention to the way you're kneeling beside Aaron on the couch. He's reclined, but you're hovering over him, leaning into his personal space and insisting that he show you pictures of Jack. It's taking every ounce of willpower in his entire body not to turn his head and kiss you right then and there, but he knows he has to do what he can to salvage this.

"Oh," You gush, mouth right by his ear, "That one's adorable! Is that the-" You hiccup, "-shirt I got him for his birthday?"

"Yeah," Aaron hums, zooming in slightly to show you the slightly worn design on the front, "He wears it all the time. It's his favorite shirt, even more than the one I got him at the zoo."

"He loves that one," You recall, knocking your nose into his cheek. Your dad doesn't notice, too preoccupied with his phone, but Aaron is starting to see your patience wane.

He acts fast, knocking his hand against the wine glass in your hand and subsequently spilling it onto your white shirt.

"Oh!" You gasp, red stains dripping down your torso, and Aaron takes the now-empty glass from your hand.

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey. C'mere," He stands, nudging your hands off of his thighs and helping you to your feet, "You can borrow one of my shirts, I'll throw yours in the washing machine."

As soon as he leads you into his bedroom for a new shirt, you're on him. You're coming on so strong that he's pressed against the wall, and he grips beneath your thighs to haul you up around his waist while you try scaling him like a ladder.

"Okay, okay," He hums, but the words muffle where you're feverishly pressing your lips to his, "Wait, sweetheart, let's- mmf, get you a shirt."

He manages to grip your cheeks, pushing your face away from his so that he can speak. He does relent and peck your puckered lips, but he hauls you over to his bed and plops you down onto the mattress so that he can freely dig through his dresser.

"This one?" He asks, turning around with your favorite shirt in his hands. You nod vigorously, and he realizes you'll have trouble undoing the straps on your shirt.

"Here," He helps you shimmy it off, pointedly avoiding a glance down at your topless form to preserve what little self-control he has, "Okay, now-"

"Now we kiss," You gush, standing on unsteady legs to hold his face again.

"Now we go and rejoin your dad," He reminds you in a hushed murmur, though he just can't resist giving in one last time and kissing your wine-flavored lips, "But if you fall asleep on the couch, he might let you stay. And we can kiss tomorrow."

"Promise?" You grin at him, giddy.

"Promise." He nods, unhooking your arms from around his neck so that he can lead you back out with one hand on the small of your back, much less suspicious than hauling you along, "And you can keep the shirt."

[ornii]

Mad Max: Coins of Rage!

This was a request from @ab1nsur

I decided to throw a little spin on it. Hopefully it’s still passable as decent.

It hasn’t been long since you’ve been working at the arcade. The job was open and since it’s Halloween, kids are enjoying more festivities, so they had to hire more support than usual. Look no further to you, Dustin’s older cousin who he tries to ignore due to your playful teasing. It was your average Thursday afternoon, sitting at the desk you propped yourself up, reading the latest comic book. Your eyes focus on the Issue 7 of the Uncanny X-Men comic, watching the always beautiful Jean Grey. What took you off the comic was a brush of Red hair walking past you. The Most off putting part was the length, boys this young shouldn’t have hair that long.

Slowly lowering your comic book right below your eyelids you peer over to the fairly calming ruckus, while it was full of kids laughing and having fun. There was a certain, natural calmness about it, since it hasn’t been calm in Hawkins for a while. Your eyes dart around and spot the red hair, right at the dig dug machine. That hair was attached to a redhead, no surprise there, but it was, a girl.

Sneakers, Jeans, and a Red Track jacket, she definitely wasn’t the definition of a “Girl” that everyone else thinks. Your eyes focus on the screen in front of her to see her score going higher and higher, until she loses, but broke the high school. From the small reflection in the glass you could see a smile, but it slowly faded as she got her stuff and left. You shrugged it off, letting it go for the time being.

It wasn’t until the next Day that you got an earful of the truth, working another shift; reading another comic, this time the Silver Hawks. But your enjoyment was suddenly cut off by the inappropriate cough of someone you knew to get your attention. You slowly lower your comic and see a trio of Boys at your counter, you knew them too well. Dustin, Will, and Your Cousin Lucas.

“(Y/n), this is an emergency.” Dustin says, placing his hands on the desk, you squint at him to inquire more.

“Okay? What’s the issue?” You ask.

“We need to find Mad Max.” Lucas said, you stared at him for what seemed to be forever.

“…Who?” You ask, and the boys drag you over to the Dig Dug game, and see that the top score was replaced by a Title: Mad Max. Their high score got blown out of the water by this Mad Max.

“I can’t believe someone got higher than me.” Dustin says, and you shook your head “A real tragedy.”

“You know who Mad Max? He has to be cheating.” Will said, Lucas nods, “Nobody gets that high without breaking the system.”

“I don’t think she was breaking the system.” You said, which was a major fuck up.

“She?” The boys say together, and you sigh.

“Yeah, she.” In less than a minute you were accosted by the boys asking questions about this Mad Max Girl.

“There’s no way! What does she look like?”

“Is she Elizabeth Taylor hot?!”

“Is she totally rad?”

You shut them down by being louder than you wanted. “Hey!” You said, “im not letting you wackos stalk a girl, you want your score back at the top? Beat hers.” You said and walk back to your counter, the trio were obviously miffed by it but didn’t push any further. You thought that this was finally the end of the Mad Max Saga, returning back to your comic and enjoying your reading. Subsequently, the boys couldn’t surpass Mad Max, losing their quarters in the war.

They didn’t return the next day, probably reeling from their defeat from Mad Max, and it was Friday, so it was even more odd they didn’t show up. She did of course, Mad Max, you’re inside one of the old machines, cleaning our cobwebs and changing fuses. Pulling your head from inside the back of the machine you see from the window Mad Max exit a fine car, argue with some blonde guy and he speeds off. She flips him off and storms inside. Guess things aren’t always so good for Mad Max. Her first stop was Dig Dug, guess to best her own score. You finish emptying the machine and decide it’s probably best to warn her. You casually approach, hands in your pocket as you approach, She vaguely sees your reflection in the mirror.

“I didn’t do anything.” She said in a huff.

“I know you didn’t, just wanted to ask you.. are you Mad Max?” You said, you already knew the answer, but she didn’t know how much you did. “Who’s asking?” She replies.

“Just asking.” You reply, and she keeps playing, her silence basically answering your question. “Look I just.. want to apologize for my cousin and his weird ass friends.” You said, she Turns to you.

“Cousin?” She said, “Yeah, Lucas, really annoying, Dustin and Will are okay..” my bad for them being creeps.

“They were pretty weird as school.” She said, which made your eyebrows rise. “They did it at school too?” You groan, “my reputation is gonna be in shambles.” You said, obviously being sarcastic which got a dry chuckle from max. She’s already back at her game and you decide to place a sack of quarters at the center of the console. She looks at it, and then back to you.

“As an apology for my cousin and friends, they’re mad you beat their High Score or whatever.” You explain.

“So, why are you sticking up for some creeps?” She said, and you shrugged. “Lucas is family, he’s got Dustin, Mike and Will. They’ve been friends since they were born, far as I’m concerned they’re family too.” You said, Max looks at you and for a moment you saw a hint of sadness, but she quickly buries it down and shrugs and takes the quarters. “If they have any more high scores you let me know.” She said with sarcasm. You give a small smirk and nod.

“Yeah, I’ll be Seeing You, Max.”