#he just kinda layin

[starboye]

starring: peter parker (andrew garfield) x male reader

request: what if the reader is an onlyfans model and Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) is a fan and one day you get saved by him from a mugging and you seduce Peter into “thanking him” and he’s very aggressive and he’s a brat tamer and will spank your ass till it’s red like his mask. You also give him sloppy head which he’s a fan of. The mask stays on the entire time cuz that’s kinky. Hopefully ends with some fluff and Peter asks him out?

warnings: smut, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, ass slapping, oral sex, a lil fluff at the end

directors note: ok so this was kinda messy at first which is why it ended up being a little long

you were a fairly popular onlyfans creator, i mean popular enough to get invited out to events and stuff and you had a somewhat large amount of followers, one of those actually being spiderman aka peter parker, he was obsessed with you ass (literally).

but one night after an event you get cornered by some thugs threatening you with some knives and just before they could beat you up for your belongings the friendly neighborhood spiderman shows up, beating up the thugs and watching them run away.

"thanks for the help" you say picking up the stuff you dropped in the scuffle "no problem just being your friendly neighborhood spiderman" he says about to swing away but you stop him "wait how can i repay you" you asks stepping closer and looking him up and down "well no need to repay me citizen, wait are you y/n from onlyfans" he asks remembering just a bit of your voice.

"yeah how did you know" you ask already knowing the answer "uhm just from around the way y'know" he nervously chuckles watching your eyes fill with lust suddenly "well since you saved me why can't i return the favor back at my place" you smirk and in no time he's swinging his way to your apartment building and walking through the front door with you.

he was a little shy at first, walking through the apartment he only saw through a screen and with his dick in his hand, until you showed him your room, you turning around and pushing him onto the bed before straddling his lap "how do you get this stuff off" you snicker trying to figure out how to get his suit off.

"the suit can come off but the mask stays on" peter says immediately grabbing his mask to keep you from lifting it to far "okay whatever mr spidey wants" you seductively whisper to him, getting up so he can undress, peter now fully naked and making out with you was hard as a rock.

rutting his dick against your ass until it was dripping cum "you wanna fuck me" you ask rubbing your ass on him to taunt him some more "fuck yes" he groans throwing his head back, you agonizingly slowly slipped the head of his dick in you, sinking in every inch of his big cock until you were bouncing up and down on his lap.

"fuck keep going just like that" he says wrapping his arm around your waist to control your movements, slapping your ass until a big red mark was left, he lifted up his mask just to his nose and his lips attached to your neck and didn't let go until your neck was littered in his hickeys "can i call you daddy" you ask looking down at him as he thrusted upward into your ass "oh please do" peter smirked at the sight of you.

"then fuck me up daddy" you say and with those words he flipped you onto your back with him right above you, tangling his fingers with yours and pinning them by your head, slamming his pelvis into your ass over and over until you were a moaning mess "who's your daddy huh" he asks "y-you are" you whimper wrapping your legs around his waist "that's right" he smirks knowing he's the only one getting to fuck you unlike all the other guys who dm you day after day asking to meet up.

"fuck im gonna cum" peter mutters into your neck "please cum in me" you plea tightening your grip on his biceps before he slams his load into you, making sure to push it all into you, leaning back on your bed with a big huff, his messy cock laying on his stomach "clean it up" he orders and you're quick to obey, crawling in between his leg with his load dripping down your inner thigh, sucking him until his dick was spotless.

"mhm every drop" he hums watching you work your magic with his cock again before pulling off and laying next to him "well that was fun" peter awkwardly says as if he wasn't ordering you around five minutes ago "i just wanted to our good ol' spiderman for doing his service" you say "well how about i do you a favor know" he asks turning to look at you "and what would that be" you retort "me and you dinner tomorrow night" he suggests and after a few moments of silence you agree "i guess it's a date then spidey" you chuckle.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

[jo-speaks]

taste ft. luke hughes

in which...

you know you'll always be present in luke hughes' life, even if you aren't together.

warnings: MDNI!! brief smut, oral sex (f! receiving), alcohol consumption, cheating (? kinda but not really), i think that's it

track one in short n' sweet (hughes brothers version) series !

quick note: bit earlier than expected, but i can’t let you guys know my next move

Oh, I leave quite an impression

Five feet to be exact

“Damn, Lukey. You walked past her and she looked tiny as hell.” Jack teased his younger brother. 

Luke hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of you. You were currently in an intense game of beer pong against his older brother and a guest whom he hadn’t bothered to learn the name of, your short, tight dress leaving the youngest Hughes starstruck. He watched as you threw the small ping pong ball across the table, yet again with the accuracy to have his eldest brother chugging from a red Solo cup for the eighth time that night.

“She’s not that short. I’m just really tall, I guess.” Luke yelled in response, the loud music filling the space making it impossible for him to be heard at a normal level.

Jack rolled his eyes, siping whatever mixed concoction he had made in his not-so-sober state. “Uh-huh. At least you aren’t worrying about Natalie anymore.”

Quinn groaned as he missed the cup across from him, “Alright, next round I want Y/N on my team!”

You laughed loudly, leaving Luke even more mesmerized. “Q, the drunker you get the less losing hurts.”

Once again, it was your turn to throw the ball. You stuck your tongue slightly past your lips in concentration as you tried your best to aim towards the red plastic.

“Hang on, hang on.” Quinn stalled, causing you to groan dramatically. “You���re scary good at this. So, you can’t look at the cups. Take a blind shot.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “What? How is that fair?” “It’s not, but neither is how good you are.” 

“Whatever.” You agreed, turning your head to look at anything else. Before the ball could escape the grasp of your fingertips, your eyes wandered a little too much, making eye contact with Luke. He was already staring at you, so he didn’t bother to look away when you met his gaze. 

The way he was leaning against the counter, legs spread and his tight jeans doing nothing to hide the prominent print of his cock peeking through. 

In your awe, you dropped the round piece of plastic, letting it fall into the cup of beer below it. 

“Does that mean you drink?” Quinn asked.

You're wondering why half his clothes went missing

My body's where they're at

The bright sunlight woke you up. You groaned as you blinked your eyes open, taking in the moment. Well, until it was interrupted. 

Luke threw his arm around you, your body covered in a large piece of fabric. “My hoodie looks nice on you.” 

You laughed softly, “You should let me keep it then.” 

“I didn’t plan on ever taking it back.” He answered, peppering soft kisses on your face, quickly finding your lips. The more your senses started to come back, the more intimate the moment felt. 

You soaked in the sunlight together, not wanting the moment to come to an end. But unfortunately, you had a cat back at your apartment who was probably meowing for food by now. 

“Gotta go, Luke.” You mumbled against his lips, doing nothing to stop his wandering hand from finding its way in between your legs. 

His lips trailed from your lips to your neck, finding that sweet spot that made you cry out softly. “You could also stay, let me take care of you.”

Now I'm gone, but you're still layin'

Next to me, one degree of separation

“What an asshole. He purposely put that on his private story so he could make sure you’d see it.” Your best friend, Ivy commented, taking your phone out of your hand and shutting it off. 

You laughed, “It’s fine, Ivy. I laid in that bed in that same spot a million times. It sure as hell will take more than one girl to get the smell of me out of it.”

The girl squinted her eyes before coming to a realization, “You washed his sheets with your detergent, didn’t you?”

“You bet his sorry ass I did.” You smirked.

Ivy burst out in laughter, her hands grabbing your forearms as you started to laugh along with her, “You petty bitch.”

I heard you're back together and if that's true

You'll just have to taste me when he's kissing you

If you want forever, I bet you do

Just know you'll taste me too

“So yeah, he got back with Natalie. That’s who that girl on his story was.” Quinn commented, taking a sip of his coffee. 

The two of you had started going out more often after you and Luke broke up. Well, when Luke broke up with you. He had claimed he just didn’t love you anymore, but after spending a little less than six months with him, you knew it was bullshit. So, as any sane person does, you called up his older brother and asked him to give you the real explanation. Since then, it had basically become routine for the two of you to catch up whenever he was back in Vancouver.

You nodded, “I figured, but thanks for letting me know.”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. We told him to wait before jumping into anything, especially since he was still texting her the whole time you guys were together.” “So that ‘N’ in his phone wasn’t actually Nico? No way!” You joked, knowing that the single-letter contact couldn’t have possibly been his team’s captain. 

Uh-huh

He pins you down on the carpet

Makes paintings with his tongue (La-la-la-la-la-la-la)

His hands pinned your hips down against the living room carpet, his need to eat you out far too great to even make it to the bedroom.

“Fuck, Luke.” You moaned, gripping his damp curls. 

He kept licking at your clit, doing what felt like absolute magic against your core. “You taste so good, baby. Doing so good f’me.” He mumbled against you, the vibrations of his voice only adding to the pleasure. 

You felt yourself getting closer to your peak, the room around you slowly disappearing as you fell into a blissful state, the only thing you were focused on was how good Luke was making you feel. 

However, a consistent buzz from next to your spread legs caught your attention. Even through blurry eyes, you could see a capital ‘N’ displayed on his phone screen, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. 

Before you could say anything about it, Luke took your swollen bud into his mouth, suckling harshly, distracting you completely from saying anything.

He's funny now, all his jokes hit different

Guess who he learned that from?

Jack and Quinn had become irritated at their brother and his girlfriend’s laughter coming from the pool room. 

“I might just be bitter, but her laugh is stupidly annoying. I like Y/N’s. Hers sounds less annoying.” Jack said to Quinn, staring from the porch into the room. 

“Luke’s not even that fucking funny. All the jokes he’s telling her are jokes Y/N said to him. He could at least try to be original.” Quinn agreed.

Now I'm gone, but you're still layin'

Next to me, one degree of separation

Luke laid in his bed, waiting for Natalie to finish taking off her makeup at the desk across from him. He rolled over into the space where she now had claimed, his nostrils taking in a familiar vanilla scent.

“Nat? Did you use a new hair product or something?” He questioned, sniffing the sheets more aggressively.

Natalie made a face, “What? No, I haven’t.” 

I heard you're back together and if that's true

You'll just have to taste me when he's kissing you

If you want forever, and I bet you do (I bet you do)

Just know you'll taste me too

“Stop doing that.” Luke whispered against her lips. 

Natalie groaned, “Doing what?”

He pulled away, wanting to get a better look at her face, “Tugging on my hair. I don’t like it.” “She did it all the time, Lu. I saw it.”

Luke knew exactly what she was talking about. The only person he had let tug on his hair during a make-out or during sex was you. It didn’t feel good when anyone else did it, not even his girlfriend.

“Whatever. Just don’t do it.”

La-la-la-la-la-la-la

“Maybe we need to cut you off.” Ivy said, pulling the shot of vodka from your hand before you could take it. 

You snorted, “Nah, I’m fine.”

To everyone, it was obvious you were not fine. Emotionally, sure. But sobriety-wise? Not at all.

Ivy gave you a look of concern, “So this drinking spree you’ve been on tonight doesn’t have anything to do with Luke?”

“Nope.”

Every time you close your eyes and feel his lips, you're feelin' mine

And every time you breathe his air, just know I was already there

Luke peered up at you as you pulled your hair back, “Already? Thought you’d want to kiss a little first.”

You rolled your eyes, “Shut up. I just don’t want my hair to keep getting stuck on my lip gloss. It’s getting annoying.” He simply laughed and pulled you back in, pressing his lips to yours yet again, savouring the taste of your cherry lip gloss as he took your bottom lip into his mouth. He felt as if he didn’t even need oxygen anymore, only you, on his lap, your lips against his. 

After a few more kisses, you pulled away to catch your breath, Luke’s hand on the back of your head keeping you close to the point where you were practically breathing against his mouth. 

You can have him if you like, I've been there, done that once or twice

And singin' 'bout it don't mean I care, yeah, I know I've been known to share

Well, I heard you're back together and if that's true

You'll just have to taste me when he's kissing you

“Oh please! It’s clear that you’re still into him, you crazy bitch!” Natalie yelled, getting the attention of a few people in the arena parking lot. 

You scoffed, “I’m not. The only reason I’m here is because of Jack, not Luke.”

“Yeah, right. You know you can say you don’t want him anymore, but it was clear at that karaoke bar that you’re still hung up on him!”

“Holy shit, how many times do I have to say it? The only reason I sang that song was because it’s a good fucking song! If I wanted him back, I could get him back.”

Natalie wasn’t even able to get a word out before you continued speaking. 

“Who do you think taught him those jokes you laugh at? Who do you think taught him how to eat pussy like a real man instead of a little bitch?” 

She listened closely to your words. Now it made sense to her why he had gotten better at eating her out after he was with you. You noticed the realization on her face and you felt a slight twinge of guilt in your stomach for exposing Luke like that, especially in a public setting. Unfortunately for him, your patience had already run thin, so you couldn’t stop yourself there. 

“I don’t care how many times you kiss him. Or how many times you fuck him. The only reason he knows what to do is because of me. And no matter how hard you try to make him forget, he won’t.” You snapped, turning on your heels before she could even inhale.

If you want forever, and I bet you do (I bet you do)

Just know you'll taste me too (Taste me too)

For the next few weeks, your words lingered in Natalie’s mind. You were right, and she knew it. The way he gripped the sheets a little tighter before she laid down, the way he all of a sudden didn’t like his hair pulled. 

She thought she wanted to marry this man, to have a family with him. But she knew you were right, Luke would never be the same after you. 

And Luke knew that too.

La-la-la-la-la-la-la

You'll just have to taste me when he's kissing you, no

(La-la-la-la-la-la-la) Yeah, ah-ah

You'll just have to taste me when he's kissing you

“All I heard was her telling him to get over you before she stormed out the house.” Jack explained, hopping into the passenger seat of your car. You were driving him to the airport since he was heading to Chicago for his surgery. 

You hummed, “I didn’t mean to make her feel bad, but she called me a crazy bitch. Like it’s my fault he hasn’t moved on.” 

Jack laughed at your words, “That’s true. I don’t get it though, he broke up with you, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. I don’t know, I guess I’m just that amazing that I linger wherever I’ve been.” You joked.

“Like a taste in his mouth, he can’t get rid of?” 

Your eyes widened slightly at Jack’s shockingly accurate analogy, “Exactly.” 

[lila-lou]

✨Helpless✨

Summary: Spent, trembling, his to ruin. Soldier Boy never asked—he took. And you let him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Slight Smut, Language, kinda dark

Word Count: 3847

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

Your breath came slow, heavy, and shallow, your body sprawled out across the motel bed, barely able to move. Every muscle felt spent, weak, the lingering ache between your thighs a reminder of just how rough he had been. But that was always the case when it came to Soldier Boy—he never held back, never treated you like something delicate, and certainly never asked if you could take it. He just did what he wanted, took what he wanted, and you let him.

The sharp sound of him sniffing echoed in the quiet room, and you shivered as the cool sensation of the powdery residue on your bare back faded under his touch. He exhaled through his mouth, satisfaction humming deep in his chest, then dragged his calloused fingers down the dip of your spine. You felt the bed shift as he leaned back, probably stretching out like the cocky bastard he was, basking in the aftermath of what he had just done to you.

“Fuck, sweetheart”, he muttered, his voice hoarse and laced with amusement. “You really are somethin’ else. Just layin’ there all spent—like I drained the fuckin’ life outta you”.

You swallowed, your throat dry. He wasn’t wrong.

You could still feel the way his hands had held you down, the way his body had crushed you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gave. You weren’t new to sex—but you were new to this. To him.

At nineteen, you had only been with one person before him—your ex-boyfriend, who had been cautious, careful, treating intimacy like something fragile. But Soldier Boy wasn’t careful. He wasn’t gentle. He didn’t whisper sweet nothings or ask if you were okay.

And maybe that was why you kept coming back.

“You still with me, kid?”.

His huge, heavy palm slid over the curve of your ass, lingering for a moment before dipping between your thighs. The touch was slow, deliberate, almost mocking in its gentleness compared to how rough he had been before. You flinched slightly, your body still sore and hypersensitive. But even that small reaction seemed to amuse him. He chuckled under his breath, the sound low and throaty.

“Barely moving”, he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. His fingers grazed your skin again, teasing, testing, as if he wanted to see just how much more you could take. “Did I fuck you that good, or are you just bein’ dramatic?”.

You felt heat rise in your face, but you didn’t respond. What could you say? That you hadn’t expected any of this? That you didn’t know how to handle someone like him, someone who took whatever he wanted and left you gasping in his wake?

Your silence only seemed to spur him on. He shifted his weight, his body pressing closer to yours again. His lips brushed against the nape of your neck, the faint scratch of his beard making you shiver. He pressed a kiss there—soft, almost tender—before moving to your ear.

“You’re too quiet”, he murmured. “I like it better when you make noise”. His hand tightened slightly, his fingers splaying possessively over your thigh. “C’mon, doll. Don’t go all shy on me now”.

Soldier Boy’s hand lingered, fingers idly tracing the sensitive skin between your thighs, his touch deliberate, teasing. The way you flinched—just slightly, your body betraying you—only made his smirk widen.

“Still sensitive, huh?”, he muttered, amusement laced in his voice as his fingers drifted lazily over your skin, not quite pressing, just reminding you that he could. That he would.

Your breath hitched, but you still didn’t answer. You weren’t sure if you even could. Every part of you felt spent, drained, the dull ache between your legs a constant reminder of just how much he had taken from you.

But that wasn’t enough for him. It never was.

Soldier Boy exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he leaned back against the headboard, utterly relaxed. His arm draped casually over his stomach, his other hand still resting against your thigh like he owned you.

Which—he did. At least in this moment.

“Y’know, you’re cute when you get all quiet like this”, he mused, running his fingers along the inside of your thigh, barely touching, just enough to make your skin prickle. “All fucked-out and speechless. Like a goddamn wet dream”.

You swallowed hard, your throat still dry.

He watched you for a moment, green eyes sharp, predatory. “That your way of tellin’ me you’re done?”, he asked, though there was no real question in his voice. He already knew the answer. He just liked hearing you admit it.

Your body tensed slightly, and he felt it, his grip tightening—just a little, just enough to remind you that he was still in control.

“C’mon, sweetheart”. His voice dipped lower, a slow drawl that sent a shiver down your spine. “I thought you liked this”.

And the worst part?

You did.

Maybe that was why you kept coming back.

He watched you, the smirk never quite leaving his face. His grip on your thigh stayed firm, fingers flexing slightly, possessively, like he was testing just how much more he could take from you. Like he was daring you to stop him.

But you didn’t.

You never did.

He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “You like it when I break you down, don’t you?”, he murmured, his voice laced with smug amusement. “When I take that sweet little body and fuckin’ ruin it?”.

You felt the heat of his words settle deep in your stomach, twisting into something dangerous, something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

You should have been ashamed. Should have told him no, should have pushed him away. But you just lay there, your body still trembling, your skin still tingling where his hands had been.

His fingers moved again, slow, lazy, dragging against your inner thigh in a way that sent a fresh wave of heat through you. His lips found your shoulder, his beard scratching against your sensitive skin as he kissed the faint bruises he had left there.

“You keep lettin’ me do this to you, sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice thick with amusement. “Makes me think you don’t really wanna stop”.

You swallowed hard, your throat tight.

“Maybe”, he continued, shifting his weight so that he was pressed against your side, his breath warm against your neck, “you like bein’ my little plaything”.

His teeth scraped against your skin, his grip tightening on your thigh as he pulled you closer. “Maybe you like knowin’ you’re mine”.

Your pulse pounded in your ears, your breath shallow.

Because the truth was, you didn’t think you could stop.

Not now.

Not ever.

Soldier Boy let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he gripped your hip and turned you onto your back. His strength was effortless, like moving you was as easy as handling a ragdoll. You barely had the energy to resist—not that you would. Not that you ever really did.

His hand found your jaw, fingers pressing into your skin, forcing you to look up at him. His green eyes, sharp and gleaming, raked over your face with something between amusement and possession.

"Open wide, baby", he murmured, his thumb tracing the corner of your lips, teasing.

And you did.

Because it was easier than thinking. Easier than questioning why you kept coming back, why you let him handle you like this, why the roughness, the dominance, the control made your breath hitch instead of making you run.

His smirk deepened, satisfied. "Good girl", he praised, dragging his thumb across your lower lip before pushing it just past your teeth. Testing you. Watching you.

His other hand slid down, resting against your throat—not squeezing, just feeling the way you swallowed beneath his touch. His grip was possessive, a silent reminder that he could do whatever he wanted to you, that you’d let him.

"You get off on this, don’t you?", he mused, tilting his head slightly, like he was studying you. "Letting me use you, push you past your limit".

You didn’t answer.

Not because you didn’t know what to say—because you weren’t sure you wanted to admit the truth.

Soldier Boy laughed, the sound low and rough, vibrating against your skin as he leaned in closer. "That’s what I thought", he murmured, brushing his lips over your jaw before pulling back, his grip on you unrelenting.

That´s when you finally spoke, though your voice was so soft it was barely audible.

“Ben…”.

It was the first word you had managed since he’d wrecked you, your throat dry, your body still trembling. You weren’t even sure why you said his name—if it was a plea, a protest, or something else entirely. But it made him pause.

For a brief second, something flickered in his eyes. A shift, subtle but there, like he hadn’t expected to hear his real name slip from your lips. Like it pulled him out of the hazy, cocky arrogance he wore like armor.

But then, just as quickly, the smirk was back.

"Didn’t think you had any words left in you, sweetheart", he murmured, thumb brushing over your swollen lips again, teasing. “What, finally got somethin’ to say?”.

You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but they caught in your throat. Because what could you say? That you didn’t know why you kept letting him do this? That you weren’t sure if you wanted him to stop—or if you were more afraid of what it meant if you didn’t?

His gaze darkened slightly, as if he could see right through you. As if he already knew.

“Y’know”, he muttered, tilting his head as his fingers traced along your jaw, his touch gentler than before, "You got that look again".

You swallowed. "What look?".

He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly, but his smirk faltered just a little. Just enough for you to notice.

"Like you're tryin' to figure me out", he murmured, thumb dragging along your cheekbone. "Bad idea, sweetheart. Ain't much to figure".

But that wasn’t true, was it?

Because beneath the arrogance, the cruelty, the dominance, there was something else. Something deeper, something heavier. You had seen it—just for a flicker of a moment, when you said his name.

Ben.

He had paused.

And that meant something.

"You don’t have to be like this", you found yourself whispering, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

His expression hardened instantly, his grip tightening—not enough to hurt, but enough to silence you. Enough to remind you who he was.

"That so?", he mused, his voice dropping to something colder, something more dangerous. "And what, exactly, do you think I am, sweetheart?".

You hesitated, pulse pounding. "I think…", You licked your lips, feeling the weight of his gaze. "I think you want to feel something real".

For the first time since you met him, he didn’t have a comeback.

The silence stretched, heavy, suffocating. His fingers twitched against your skin, and his jaw clenched.

Then—just like that—his smirk was back.

"Real’s overrated", he muttered, letting go of you as he leaned back, reaching for the pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. He lit one, inhaling deep, exhaling slow. "What I want is another round. You in or out, sweetheart?".

You knew damn well you wouldn’t be able to walk for days, but you still said it.

“Yes”.

Your voice was quiet, but steady. A single word, but enough.

Soldier Boy’s smirk deepened around his cigarette, something dark and knowing flickering in his green eyes as he exhaled a slow stream of smoke. He tilted his head slightly, studying you like he wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or just amused.

“Atta girl”.

The praise sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. He knew what he was doing—he always did. He could tear you apart and put you back together all in the same breath, and the worst part was that you let him.

Hell, you wanted him to.

His cigarette dangled from his lips as he grabbed your wrist, dragging you up and onto his lap effortlessly. Your body was exhausted, sore, but it didn’t matter. Not when his hands were already gripping your hips, not when his body was so warm and solid beneath you.

“You really are somethin’ else, sweetheart”, he muttered, his fingers pressing into your skin, possessive. “Keep lettin’ me wreck you like this—”, he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“Look at you”, he murmured, dragging a hand up your back, fingers curling in your hair as he tugged your head back just enough to make you meet his gaze. His smirk faded, replaced with something heavier, something unreadable.

“You don’t even know what you’re doin’ to yourself, do you?”.

The words hit somewhere deep in your chest, but before you could even process them, he pulled you down into a bruising kiss, swallowing whatever weak protest you might have had.

And just like that, you were his again.

His lips crashed into yours with a force that stole what little breath you had left, his grip on your hair tightening just enough to make your scalp sting. The way he kissed you—hungry, demanding—made it clear this wasn’t about tenderness. It never was. This was about control, about reminding you who you belonged to in that moment.

You melted against him despite the ache in your body, despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs. Because this was how it always went. He pushed, you gave, and somewhere between the rough hands and the bruising kisses, you lost yourself completely.

His cigarette was still burning between his fingers when he pulled back just enough to smirk at you, his lips slick from the kiss. He took a slow drag, exhaling the smoke lazily in your direction before flicking the cigarette into the ashtray beside the bed.

"Good girl", he muttered, voice rough as his fingers traced the marks he’d left on your skin. "Always so goddamn eager to be ruined, huh?".

You swallowed hard, your throat dry, but you didn’t deny it.

Didn’t even try.

His smirk deepened, like he could read every thought in your head, every unspoken truth you were too afraid to say. His hands slid down to your hips, his grip bruising as he pulled you down, grinding you against him.

A sharp gasp slipped past your lips at the friction, and he chuckled, low and dark.

"That’s right", he murmured, his voice like gravel, his lips ghosting over your jaw. "I want you to remember this, sweetheart. Every goddamn time you try to tell yourself you don’t want me—", his fingers dug into your flesh, forcing you to roll your hips against him again, "—your body’s gonna remind you who owns it".

You hated how right he was.

Because after this, after the bruises faded and the soreness dulled, you’d still feel him.

And you knew—without a doubt—you’d come crawling back for more.

Soldier Boy watched you with that smug, knowing smirk, his fingers still gripping your hips like he was daring you to try and resist. Like he knew you wouldn’t.

“Say it”, he murmured, voice low and commanding.

Your breath hitched. “Say what?”.

His smirk widened, but his grip tightened, just enough to make you whimper.

“That you’re mine”.

The air in the room felt suffocating, heavy with the heat still clinging to your skin, with the weight of whatever this was between you and him. He was toying with you, pushing you to admit the truth you kept swallowing down.

But you couldn’t.

You didn’t want to give him that power, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing you say it out loud.

And yet…

When he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice dropped even lower, rougher, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I already know it, sweetheart”, he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “I just wanna hear you say it”.

Your heart pounded, your body betraying you, the heat pooling in your stomach making it impossible to deny.

Your lips parted, but the words caught in your throat, too heavy to push out.

Soldier Boy pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, tilting his head slightly.

“No?”, he mused, that smirk never leaving his lips. “Guess I’ll just have to remind you, then”.

And before you could respond, before you could even process what he meant, he flipped you onto your back again, his body pressing you down into the mattress, trapping you beneath him.

You sucked in a sharp breath, your pulse racing, but he only chuckled, low and dark.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart”, he murmured, dragging his lips along your jaw, down to your throat. “By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even be able to think about denying it”.

He pushed you deeper into the mattress, his weight grounding you, his presence suffocating in the way that made it impossible to think about anything else—anyone else. Soldier Boy had that effect on you. Overwhelming. All-consuming.

His hands gripped your wrists, pinning them above your head with ease, his strength effortless as he hovered over you. His smirk was still there, but his eyes were darker now, the amusement laced with something heavier, something more dangerous.

"You gonna keep makin’ me work for it, sweetheart?", he murmured, his voice low, gravelly. "Or are you finally ready to admit what we both already know?".

You swallowed hard, pulse hammering in your ears.

He leaned in, his lips grazing your ear as he whispered, “You belong to me”.

A shudder ran through you, heat pooling in your chest at the certainty in his voice. He wasn’t asking. He was telling you. And the worst part? You weren’t sure you had the strength to argue.

His grip on your wrists tightened just slightly, just enough to remind you of his strength, of how easily he could break you if he wanted. But he didn’t. He never did. He pushed you, tested you, but he never crossed that line.

"You keep tryin’ to fight it", he continued, dragging his lips down your jaw, pausing at the pulse point in your throat. "But we both know how this ends".

You clenched your jaw, your breathing unsteady.

“You always come back”, he murmured against your skin, his voice laced with satisfaction. “And you always will”.

It wasn’t a threat. It was a fact.

Because despite everything, despite the rough hands and the dangerous smirks and the way he made you feel like you were standing on the edge of a cliff with no way back—he was right.

You would come back.

You always did.

And he knew it.

Then he drove himseld into you with a single, powerful thrust, filling you until it hurt.

A sharp gasp tore from your lips, your fingers instinctively gripping at the sheets. Soldier Boy chuckled, smug as ever, clearly pleased with himself.

“Too much for you, sweetheart?”, he taunted, his voice thick with mock concern. “Thought you could handle a real man?”.

Your breath hitched, your body still adjusting, still reeling from the way he took exactly what he wanted without hesitation, without restraint.

He tilted his head, watching your reaction like he was savoring every second of it. “Bet that little boyfriend of yours never made you feel like this, huh?”, he muttered, voice low, teasing. “Bet he was all sweet and careful, treatin’ you like you might break”.

His hand traced down your side, fingers pressing into your skin possessively. “But you don’t want careful, do you?”, he murmured. “You want someone who takes. Who owns”.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your body betraying you, your mind spinning.

He let out a breathy chuckle, brushing his fingers along your jaw before gripping it, forcing you to look up at him. His green eyes were sharp, focused entirely on you, like he was waiting for something.

“Go on, sweetheart”, he murmured. “Tell me who you belong to”.

Your lips parted, but the words caught in your throat.

He smirked, dragging his thumb across your lower lip. “C’mon now”, he coaxed, his voice a slow drawl. “Say it”.

His grip on your jaw tightened, his smirk deepening as he watched you struggle with the weight of his words, with the inevitable truth. He wasn’t going to let you hide from it.

Then, with no hesitation, he pulled you closer, his presence overwhelming, drowning out every thought in your head.

Your breath hitched as he settled against you, the heat between your bodies suffocating, heavy. The world outside this room didn’t exist. There was only him—his hands, his voice, the sheer power of his presence caging you in.

A gasp slipped from your lips before you could stop it, your fingers curling against his chest as he let out a low, knowing chuckle.

“There it is”, he murmured, lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Knew you’d break sooner or later”.

His fingers traced along the marks he had already left on your skin—bruises, fingerprints, evidence of his claim on you. Possession radiated from him, from the way he held you against him, from the way he demanded everything without hesitation.

And then—

"I'm yours", the words tumbled from your lips, breathless, desperate.

His entire body went still.

For a moment, he just looked at you, something flickering in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t amusement, wasn’t arrogance. It was something darker, something deeper.

Then his smirk returned, slow and dangerous.

“Damn right, you are”.

He reached up, brushing his fingers through your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back, exposing your throat to him. His lips ghosted over your pulse, lingering, taking his time.

His grip softened just slightly, his thumb stroking along your jaw. “You just needed to admit it.”

He leaned down, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“And now?”. His breath sent a shiver through you. “You’re never gonna forget who you belong to”.

And deep down, you knew he was right.

Because even after this, even after the haze cleared and the bruises faded…

You’d still feel him.

And you’d come back.

You always did.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @barnes70stark @roseblue373 @shanimallina87 @ascarriel @deanwinchesters67impala @thebiggerbear @quietgirll75 @barnes70stark @kellyls04 @spxideyver @ralilda @americanvenom13 @ozwriterchick

[dixonsdarkelf]

Aches & Pains: Daryl Dixon & Fem!Reader

My second attempt at an x Reader fic! Please be gentle or I’ll cry, and I don’t think you want to be responsible for that, now do you? Thank you as always to @dixons-sunshine for proofreading/hyping me up 🖤

Main masterlist AO3 link

Era: Alexandria, post-Saviors war

Word count: 850

Warnings: no use of y/n, swearing, a little suggestive at the end, periods, blood (kinda? Like a brief mention of it? Reader has a uterus and is on her period), I think that’s it!

“Oh my god.”

The groan emanating from the deepest part of your chest echoed off the kitchen walls, further aggravating your already-pounding head. One moment, you were cutting carrots to add to the pot on the stovetop, and the next, you were doubled over the kitchen island, clutching your abdomen as you rested your face on the cool marble. The contrast in temperature to your searing skin provided some relief from the hot flashes plaguing your system.

A few minutes later, the front door to your home swung open, the autumn chill and sound of familiar footsteps greeting you. Your agonized moans quickly caught your husband’s attention, flipping his previous stoic demeanor to one of concern.

“S’wrong, sweetheart?” Daryl asked. He was quickly on you, planting a soft kiss on the back of your head and a tender hand on your shoulder.

“The cramps are bad this month, and my head is pounding,” you sighed, your voice barely above a whisper as another wave of pain washed over you, your breath catching in your throat, “the pain is radiating into my legs.”

“Anythin’ I can do?” He stood behind you, his calloused, work-worn hands softly pressing into your lower back, massaging in slow circles. The gentle pressure alleviated some of the pain, enough that you could comfortably breathe again. “Should prolly go lie down.”

You groaned again and looked back over your shoulder at him. “But dinner—“

“Can wait,” he insisted, cutting off what he knew would turn into anxious rambling. He kept the pace of the slow circles on your back, increasing the pressure ever so slightly, but still wanting to take it easy on you. “Ain’t gon�� have much of an appetite if I knew ya’s in agony when makin’ it.”

“I’ll be fine.” As if to put you in your place, another wave of pain rolled through, this one more intense than the last. You groaned through gritted teeth, the strained noises dripping off your lips absolutely breaking Daryl’s heart.

“How ya so stubborn in so much pain?” he asked. There was a slight astonishment in his voice, as if he himself had not also been incredibly stubborn in moments of suffering.

“Used to powering through. It’s what women had to do before the world ended. Still in the habit I guess.”

As you looked back over your shoulder at him, his sympathetic gaze met yours, the usual sparkle in your eyes dulled by the pain. “Don’t gotta worry ‘bout that now. C’mon. Ya layin’ down whether ya wanna r’not.”

Before you can protest, he’s gently pulling you away from the counter, scooping you up into his arms with ease. A soft giggle escapes you as you thread your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. Your soft giggle brought his signature half-smile out, and he planted a kiss on your forehead as he carried you up the stairs and placed you on the bed.

“Ya take anythin’ for the pain?” His gruff voice was silky, as it always was when he spoke to you. However, he was laying the silkiness on extra thick, like it would soothe your pounding head.

“Like an hour ago, but it’s done nothing.” You slowly moved down on the bed, the pillows below welcoming your head as you laid back.

“Gonna get ya some water,” Daryl said, tracing his thumb over your cheekbone and kissing your forehead again, “just lay there ‘n look pretty.”

A baby pink blush appeared on your cheeks. Whether it was because you were hot or you were flustered at his sweet compliment, he would never know. He bounded down the stairs, returning a minute later with a cool glass of water.

“You’re sweet, Dar,” you thanked. You shifted onto your elbows, turning yourself over slowly so you were resting on your stomach. “Can you keep rubbing my back?”

“Like ya even needed t’ask,” he assured, climbing onto the bed and straddling your legs. He quickly got to work on massaging the small of your back, his thumbs pressing in circles and slowly deepening the pressure as to not overwhelm you.

A deep, guttural sound, a mixture of gratefulness somewhere between a sigh and a groan, slipped from your mouth, muffled by your face buried in the pillow.. The soothing motions were already beginning to alleviate some of the tension. But the pain was intense, and you needed more than just a back massage. 

“Y’know, I dun’ know much ‘bout this kinda stuff, but I heard there’s a certain somethin’ that can help,” he commented, his tone still silky, but now playful and a little flirtatious. He didn’t need to say what he meant for you to know. After being married for two years, you knew that tone & its intentions. You chuckled softly, lifting your head and folding your arms underneath, resting your chin there. It was like he’d read your mind. “Oh yeah?” His hands slowly wandered lower, trailing down your hips and carefully cupping your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. “And ya know I ain’t phased by a little blood.”

General taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley @negansbestie @holdmytesseract

GIF and (c) message below were made by me, glitter divider is by @anitalenia

[mistfallenmemes]

𝚃𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴

"Oh, I leave quite an impression."

"You're wonderin' why half his clothes went missin'? My body's where they're at."

"Now I'm gone but you're still layin' next to me."

"I heard you're back together."

"You'll just have to taste me when he's kissing you."

"If you want forever... and I bet you do."

"He's funny now? All his jokes hit different? Guess who he learned them from."

"Every time you close your eyes and feel his lips, you're feelin' mine."

"Every time you breathe his air, just know I was already there."

"You can have him if you like; I've been there, done that once or twice."

"I know I've been known to share."

𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴

"I know I have good judgment."

"I know I have good taste."

"It's funny and it's ironic that only I feel that way."

"I promised 'em that you're different and everyone makes mistakes."

"I heard that you're an actor, so act like a stand-up guy."

"Whatever devil's inside you, don't let him out tonight."

"I tell them it's just your culture and everyone rolls their eyes."

"Please, please, please, don't prove I'm right."

"Don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice."

"Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another."

"I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker."

"Well, I have a fun idea, babe, maybe just stay inside?"

"I know you're cravin' some fresh air, but the ceiling fan is so nice."

"We could live so happily if no one knows that you're with me."

"Don't prove I'm right."

"Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another. I beg you, don't embarrass me."

"If you wanna go and be stupid, don't do it in front of me."

"Don't make me hate you prolifically."

𝙶𝙾𝙾𝙳 𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙲𝙴𝚂

"When I love you, I'm sweet like an angel."

"I'm drawin' hearts 'round our names, and dreamin' of writing vows, rockin' cradles."

"Don't mistake my nice for naive"

"I don't waste a second, I know lots of guys."

"You do somethin' suspect, this cute ass bye-bye."

"Baby, you say you really like it; being mine?"

"Let me give you some advice."

"It's not that complicated."

"You should stay in my good graces."

"It's not that complicated. You should stay in my good graces."

"No one's more amazin' at turnin' lovin' into hatred."

"I'll tell the world you finish your... chores... prematurely."

"Break my heart and I swear I'm movin' on with your favorite athlete."

"I want you every second, don't need other guys."

"You do somethin' sus, kiss my cute ass bye."

"I won't give a fuck about you."

𝚂𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙿𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝚃𝙾𝙾𝙻

"I know you're not the sharpest tool in the shed."

"We had sex, I met your best friends!"

"A bird flies by and you forget."

"I don't hear a word til your guilt creeps in."

"You left me with a lot of shit to second-guess."

"Guess I'll waste another year on wonderin' if."

"If that was casual, then I'm an idiot."

"I'm lookin' for an answer in-between the lines."

"You're lyin' to yourself if you think we're fine."

"You're confused and I'm upset, but we never talk about it."

"All the silence just makes it worse."

"We never talk about how you found God at your ex's house."

"You always made sure that the phone was face-down."

"Seems like overnight, I'm just the bitch you hate now."

"You guilt-tripped me to open up to you!"

"We don't talk about it."

𝙲𝙾𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴

"The second I put my head on your chest, she knew."

"She's got a real sixth sense."

"Without her even being here, she's back in your life."

"Now she's in the same damn city on the same damn night, and you've lost all your common sense."

"What a coincidence."

"Last week, you didn't have any doubts. This week, you're holding space for her tongue in your mouth."

She's sending you some pictures, wearing less and less, trying to turn the past into the present tense."

"You told me the truth... minus seven percent."

"What a surprise, your phone just died."

"Your car drove itself from L.A. to her thighs?"

"... but who's by your side?"

"Damn it, she looks kinda like the girl you outgrew."

"At least that's what you said."

𝙱𝙴𝙳 𝙲𝙷𝙴𝙼

"I was in a sheer dress the day that we met."

"We were both in a rush."

"Your friend hit me up so we could connect."

"What are the odds?"

"And now the next thing I know..."

"I manifest that you're oversized... I digress."

"Who's the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent?"

"Maybe it's all in my head."

"But I bet we'd have really good bed chem."

"How you pick me up, pull 'em down, turn me 'round, oh, it just makes sense."

"How you talk so sweet when you're doing bad things, that's bed chem."

"How you're looking at me, yeah, I know what that means, and I'm obsessed."

"Are you free next week?"

"Come right on me... I mean camaraderie!"

"Said you're not in my time zone, but you wanna be."

"Where art thou? Why not uponeth me?"

"I see it in my mind, let's fulfill the prophecy."

"Who's the cute guy with the wide, blue eyes and the big, bad mmm?"

"I know I sound a bit redundant."

"It just makes sense."

"You talk so sweet when you're doing bad things."

"You're looking at me, yeah, I know what that means."

"And I bet we'd both arrive at the same time."

"And I bet the thermostat's set at six-nine."

"And I bet it's even better than in my head."

𝙴𝚂𝙿𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙾

"He's thinkin' 'bout me every night."

"Isn't that sweet?"

"I guess so."

"Say you can't sleep, baby, I know."

"I can't relate to desperation."

"My 'give a fucks' are on vacation."

"I got this one boy and he won't stop calling."

"When they act this way I know I got em'."

"Too bad your ex don't do it for ya."

"Walked in and dream came trued it for ya."

"Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya."

"I know I Mountain Dew it for ya."

"That morning coffee brewed it for ya."

"One touch and I brand newed it for ya."

"Holy shit."

"I'm working late..."

"He looks so cute wrapped around my finger."

"My twisted humor makes him laugh so often."

"My honey bee, come and get this pollen."

"Isn't that sweet?"

"I guess so."

𝙳𝚄𝙼𝙱 & 𝙿𝙾𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙲

"You're so dumb and poetic."

"It's just what I fall for, I like the aesthetic."

"Every self-help book, you've already read it."

"You cherry-pick lines like they're words you invented."

"You get a gold star for hi-brow manipulation."

"You try to come off like you're soft and well-spoken."

"You jack off to lyrics by Leonard Cohen."

"I don't think you understand."

"Just 'cause you talk like one, it doesn't make you a man."

"You're so sad there's no communication, but baby, you put us in this situation."

"You're running so fast from the hearts that you're breakin'."

"You're so empathetic, you'd make a great wife."

"I promise the mushrooms aren't changing your life."

"You crashed the car and abandoned the wreckage."

"You fuck with my head like it's some kind of fetish."

"Just 'cause you leave like one, it doesn't make you a man."

𝚂𝙻𝙸𝙼 𝙿𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙸𝙽𝚂

"Guess I'll end this life alone."

"I am not dramatic, these are just the thoughts that pass right through me."

"All the douchebags in my phone... if they're winning, I'm just losing."

"A boy who's jacked and kind. Can't find his ass to save my life."

"It's slim pickins."

"If I can't have the one I love, I guess it's you that I'll be kissin'."

"Since the good ones are deceased or taken, I'll just keep on moanin' and bitchin'."

"Jesus, what's a girl to do?"

"This boy doesn't even know the difference between "there", "their", and "they are"."

"He's naked in my room."

"God knows that he isn't livin' large."

"A boy who's nice, that breathes? I swear, he's nowhere to be seen."

"Since the good ones call their exes wasted, and since the Lord forgot my gay awakening, then I'll just be here in the kitchen."

𝙹𝚄𝙽𝙾

"I don't have to tell your hot ass a thing, you just get it."

"Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit."

"God bless your dad's genetics."

"You make me wanna make you fall in love."

"Late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you."

"Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?"

"Oh, I hear you knockin', baby. Come on up."

"I know you want my touch for life

"If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno."

"You know I just might let you lock me down tonight."

"One of me is cute, but two, though?"

"Give it to me, baby."

"I showed my friends, then we high-fived. Sorry if you feel objectified."

"I can't help myself, hormones are high."

"You give me more than just some butterflies."

"Wanna try out some freaky positions?"

"Have you ever tried this one?"

"If you love me right, then who knows?"

"I might let you make me Juno."

"Adore me."

"Hold me and explore me."

"Mark your territory."

"Tell me I'm the only one."

"Adore me, hold me and explore me."

"I'm so fucking horny."

𝙻𝙸𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝙶𝙸𝚁𝙻𝚂

"Don't swear on your mom that it's the first drink that you've had in like a month."

"Don't say it was just an isolated incident that happened once."

"There's no need to pretend."

"I've never seen an ugly truth that I can't bend to something that looks better."

"I'm stupid, but I'm clever."

"I can make a shitshow look a whole lot like forever and ever."

"You don't have to lie to girls."

"If they like you, they'll just lie to themselves."

"You don't have to lie to girls. If they like you, they'll just lie to themselves."

"Don't I know it better than anyone else?"

"All of your best excuses don't stand a chance."

"It isn't ideal, but damn."

"You don't even have to try."

"You don't have to lift a finger."

"It's lucky for you I'm just like my mother."

"We love to read the cold, hard facts and swear they're incorrect."

"We love to mistake butterflies for cardiac arrest."

"You don't have to lie to girls. If they like you, they'll just lie to themselves. Don't I know it better than anyone else?"

"Girls will cry and girls will lie and girls will do it 'til they die for you."

"Girls will lose their goddamn minds for you."

𝙳𝙾𝙽'𝚃 𝚂𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙴

"Don't smile because it happened, baby, cry because it's over."

"You're supposed to think about me every time you hold her."

"My heart is heavy now, it's like a hundred pounds."

"It's falling faster than the way you love to shut me down."

"I think I need a shower."

"My friends are taking shots."

"You think it's happy hour, for me it's not."

"Don't smile because it happened."

"Cry because it's over."

"I want you to miss me."

"I stay in, and when the girls come home I want one of them to take my phone and lose your number."

"I don't wanna be tempted."

"You can fake it, but you know I know."

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Nik and Price get in the ring after the sergeants tire of them heckling from the ropes. Bravo Six learns something new about himself.

CW: blatant sexual tension; mention of choking out in an MMA context; desire for forced submission (and being very into it but also bloody terrified by that desire).

"MacTavish, stop droppin' your hands! KorTac'd walk an entire detachment through that guard," Price called from Soap's left just as Gaz locked his arm, twisted and threw him over his shoulder, "fuck, Christ."

Price rubbed his eyes and glanced over at Nik through the eventual gaps in his fingers. Nik had been clapping and whooping enthusiastically every time Gaz had landed a blow, drowning out the thump-thump of the sergeants' preferred playlist, and now he was beaming from ear to ear. "Kharoshaya rabota, well done!" Nik called, thick forearms slanting across the rope as Gaz bound Soap's chest and arm up into an arm bar.

Nik was looking frustratingly good that evening, the drop tank he'd thrown on to lift weights with Ghost hanging low under his arms, giving Price far too good a view of the heavy set physique beneath. He'd been worried about getting caught staring at the dumbbell rack while Nik had counted through the reps of a single arm row, every line and tendon in his shoulder and tricep pressing through sweat-sheened skin, so he had spent a bit longer on squats, hoping the burn in his thighs overcame the burn somewhere else.

Price figured it was the easy confidence with which Nik carried himself that had always drawn his eye. Open chested, spread arms, hips first. Not afraid to be looked at and proud of what he had to display. And what's worse? Price was pretty fucking sure Nik knew he was looking. Played up to it, in fact. Funny for him, miserable for Price. Bastard.

Gaz rolled away as Soap tapped out, panting from the exertion of keeping Soap subdued, hands on his knees, but grinning right back at Nik. "Ochin mela, spasiba bolshoya.*

"Ahh, and your Russian is coming on well, my brother. Soon you will be wooing all the ladies, eh? Heh heh."

"Learned from the best, mate," Gaz said as he bounded over to take Nik's hand and bump their shoulders together.

Price eyeballed Soap as he clambered to his feet with a groan. "What the fuck was that? I've seen better footwork on crows fresh out of selection."

"Aye, well," Soap flexed backwards, his hands at the base of his spine, "nae my fault Gaz's b'in trainin' with daddy KGB over there."

Price grabbed Soap by the jaw. "Should send you on a yomp at 0400 tomorrow for that kinda talk. Stop makin' excuses." Soap grimaced and Price saw the sting of his words pass through his eyes before they drifted across to Gaz. Price squinted. "You broken?"

"Naw, sir."

"Then get the fuck back over there and wipe the floor with him. Stop taking the bait he's layin' out for you." Price shoved Soap's jaw away from him and slumped back against the ropes.

The sergeant bashed his fists together in front of his chest and turned back into the ring with a look of determination, bumping gloves with Gaz before pulling back to start the next round. He didn't allow himself to be led by the nose this time, circling with nifty footwork, swaying away from a mean right hook that narrowly missed his jaw.

"That's it, don't let him dictate the fight," Price said.

"Eh, sir, you playin' favourites?" Gaz called, his smile never fading as he teased Soap into another right hook, dancing deftly out of range.

"Neither of you qualify. Simon's my favourite."

Said Lieutenant was currently sitting by the speaker with a battered Terry Pratchett novel, his tupperware of steak and garlic potatoes balanced on his knee so that he could eat and read simultaneously. He might have smirked, but the overloaded fork of protein and carbs he shovelled into his mouth hid it from view.

"Och, didn't even hesitate. Cold," Soap said.

"Fuckin' baltic, mate - oop! Nearly, Tav." Gaz dodged out of Soaps attempted clinch, light on his feet, and bounced back round.

The playlist flicked over to yet another generic anthem dredged from the seedy club scene and Price glanced over his shoulder. "Turn that shit down, Simon."

The lieutenant obliged without looking up, if only by a few notches, before his hand returned to his fork.

"Easy, Gaz, you must watch his right leg," Nik said.

"Cheat," Price grunted.

"Poshel tuy, what's good for Soap is good for Gaz." Nik damn near pouted, arms folding across his broad chest as he quirked an eyebrow in challenge.

"Come over here and tell me to fuck myself in my own gym," Price growled back, bristling. Nik only smiled at him toothily, a glint in his eye and a tilt of the head that said 'I'd love to' in a way that made heat lick down Price's spine. It drove him crazy, how Nik could have that effect without even touching him. It was a distraction though; Price looked back to the fight only to spot Soap's demise a second later. "Soap, d--"

An overstep. A throw. An attempted grapple on the floor, followed by a deep sprawl that allowed Gaz to force Soap into the mat. Soap tried to flip onto his back, but within moments Gaz was sitting on his chest and raining punches down on the backs of his gloves as he shielded his head.

Price let Soap take a reasonable beating as punishment for his poor focus before barking from the ropes. "Callin' it, Garrick, get off his sorry arse."

Gaz rolled onto his feet and Soap grunted as he sat up. "Ah need tae get a few sessions in with Nik..."

"Nah, ya need t' get your head in the fight," Price replied. "Maybe turn your drum and bass shite down so you can focus."

"It's not drum and bass, s--"

"Can it, Garrick."

"Sir."

Soap jutted his lower lip, grabbing the lower rope for support as he stood. "Ah think ye should come show me how it's done," Soap murmured, pulling out his gum shield to flex his jaw. "Get in here n' kick th' shit outta him, rather n' gripin' from the sidelines."

"Oh ho ho, no way, he's not sandbaggin' me," Gaz lifted his gloves in immediate surrender. "He can pick on someone his own size. You're up, Nik."

Nik's face lit up with the most feral fucking grin Price had ever seen on a man. "I am ready if you are, captain."

Price could feel the fire under his skin; a burning desire to knock that silly grin off Nik's face and put him back in his place. Or, that's what he told himself. Because his eyes weren't exactly on Nik's face; they were tracing the broad shelf of his shoulders and the thick curves of his biceps, imagining them subdued in a grapple, and the sounds Nik would make as he tried to fight his way out. That same heat curled in his gut and he figured the only way he was going to extinguish it was with fists. "Fine, fuck it, sergeants, out."

"Ooh, shit," Gaz cackled, ducking under the ropes to stand on the edge of the mat, followed closely by Soap.

Price ditched his shirt and snagged his grappling gloves before stepping into the ring. As he wrapped his wrists, Price's gaze wandered to the slope of Nik's back, the curves of his arse and thighs testing the generous cut of his shorts, and had to breathe deeply through his nose to get his bloody pulse rate under control. It was adrenalin before a fight against a worthy opponent, he told himself.

The damn front wasn't any easier to look at once that drop tank had been removed, especially when Nik bounced from foot to foot and his chest moved with the momentum. He threw his arms in a few test punches at the air and rolled his head from side to side, relaxed and limber. Price chewed on the inside of his cheek and finished securing his gloves. The music was doing his nut in. "Turn that shit off," Price growled in Soap's general direction.

Soap removed his mouth guard and rolled his jaw before calling across to Simon. "Ay, L.T., put on somethin' more their vibe."

This time, Simon deigned to look up from his novel to pick a song. As Benny Andersson's fingers slid down the keys of his clavinet and Abba's 1976 Hit single 'Dancing Queen' droned from the raspy gym speaker, Price decided Simon was no longer his favourite.

Nik seemed content with the choice, however; extending his arm with the other held in front of him like he was dancing with an invisible partner, crooning along to "you can dance, you can ji-i-ive" like he was at a seventies disco. Soap and Gaz guffawed and whooped loudly on the sidelines.

"Bloody muppets," Price grumbled. "Oi, today, Nikolai. London rules." He lifted his fists and moved forward.

Nik knocked his knuckles to Price's and then stepped out of range in time to dodge a cheeky swipe. "Nu vot, Price. Not Queensbury? I thought you were a gentleman." The grin on Nik's face said he'd thought no such thing.

"What gave you that idea?"

"Salt of the earth country boy, no?"

"Hmm."

Nik was bigger, slower, which meant Price could stay out of his way and wear him down with well targeted hits. He knew there was an injury in Nik's back to take advantage of too. If it came to it, Price wasn't above fighting dirty to win. Hit and run was the way to go with big fighters like Nik.

Nimble and quick, Price landed a few punches to Nik's chest and a leg kick or two within the first few minutes, but Nik absorbed them, batting away another aimed for his head and retaliating with a hard right book that Price barely dodged in time.

"Watch it, cap!"

"He's landin' easy ones, Nik. C'mon!"

Price watched Nik carefully over his gloves, darting in only when he saw an opening and then dodging back again before those huge arms could engage a clinch.

Nik's first real hit came from nowhere; Price left a gap as he switched stances and the resulting body shot left him momentarily winded. Enough to lose ground. Price looked for a gap to evade but Nik pursued relentlessly, lashing out only to make Price dodge into the space he wanted him in, controlling him like a marionette on fucking strings.

Out of the corner of his eye, Price could see Simon step up to the rope next to the two sergeants, his meal finished and his novel forgotten, the fight too interesting to ignore. That didn't stop him dabbling in his second favourite sport. "Hey Johnny, Want to know how you make any salad into a caesar salad?"

"L.T. no--"

"Stab it twenty-three times."

Gaz snorted into his fist and Soap pinched the bridge of his nose and then winced when Price took another hard body blow that staggered him against the ropes.

Nik kept coming, wearing Price down with a slow, deliberate pursuit around the ring that made him dance and skip to land shots where he could. It was like hitting padded concrete, the red marks on Nik's skin nothing but surface damage. His body was fucking magnificent, bloody superhuman, and each time Price laid a hit he felt excitement surge through him like lightning. They bound up a few times, but Price always managed to escape the attempted grapple, his heart in his mouth, or Nik broke the clinch.

It couldn't last.

Price felt his energy waning, his footwork slowing, the sweat stinging the corner of his eyes. Nik hadn't pushed his advantage yet and he didn't need to. Not until the opportune moment, which he seized when Price was cornered again against the ropes after another prowl around the ring. Strong arms bound his torso in a clinch and Nik performed a flawless uchi mata that earned a surprised hum from Simon. They grappled on the ground, Price sprawling his legs wide to prevent Nik from levering him over.

"C'mon, sir! Break out!" Soap leaned over the ropes, gripping them intently.

Nik slipped around Price's back and wrapped his legs around his hips, drawing his neck into a rear-naked choke that felt like being crushed in a steel vice. Price thrashed, trying to drive his elbow back but only scoring glancing blows. He refused to tap out in his own fucking gym on his own fucking mat--

"Captain," Nik grunted, struggling to keep Price constrained, "please... do not think... our friendship will prevent me from... putting you to sleep. Submit."

Submit.

Something tight and hot twisted in Price's gut as Nik growled the command so close to his ear, voice rumbling from deep inside the barrelled chest pressed to Price's back. Price's toes curled against the mat and he became intimately aware of every inch of Nik's skin against his, slick with sweat and a mirrored heat, every muscle as hard and as unyielding as steel. He had been completely overpowered, taunted and teased into a trap, and now Nik had absolute control. There was... there was nothing Price could do.

Price's vision edged in grey, his nails biting into Nik's forearm, and his palm finally pounded the mat.

Nik released him immediately, rolling to his knees and moving to take Price's face carefully in his hands. "Breathe, John."

Price didn't know why he was gasping like that, his heart hammering a neat little samba against the cage of his chest. He could smell the sweat and leather of Nik's gloves, but all he wanted to do was tear them off and feel Nik's fingers in his hair. No, no too fucking much, too fu--

"'M... Fine. Gerroff." He pushed Nik's hands away and the big Russian at least had the good grace to stand and give him some space. Price closed his eyes and took a moment to steady himself, breathing in through his nose and out through lips that definitely weren't shaking. It was just a bloody fight. He'd had his arse handed to him a fair amount in his time. This was no different.

But as he opened his eyes again, Price knew something had clicked in his head that had been teetering on the brink all this time. He looked up at Nik, gaze dragging up his muscular thighs and the dark hair of his belly and chest, and felt the tightness of arousal in his gut. The realisation that he liked kneeling here at Nik's feet, subdued, conquered, settled into his chest like a shard of ice. He wanted Nik's hands on him; his wrists, his neck, his throat, holding him down. He wanted Nik to push his knees and thighs apart to claim every inch of him as a prize. He wanted the control torn from him, to hear the word submit snarled in his ear as he had no choice. It was terrifying.

Nik offered a hand down and Price took it mechanically, letting Nik drag him up until their bodies were pressed together again. Dark brown eyes studied him closely, a gloved hand resting at his hip. "Molodech, captain. You fought well."

"And you fought better," Price croaked, stiffening his back so that his body didn't shake in Nik's hands.

"This time." Nik's voice lowered significantly in volume, his hand squeezing meaningfully at Price's hip. Fuck, fuck, he'd seen. He'd bloody seen those wide, desperate eyes after feeling Price's body against his, and worked it out, hadn't he? Price swallowed hard.

"Fuckin' hell, mate. I'm glad you're on our side," Gaz called, and Soap agreed with a quiet murmur. Price was thankful they were none the wiser.

Well, the sergeants weren't. Simon was studying him closely as he ducked under the ropes. "Somethin' on your mind, Simon?"

"No, sir." He glanced at Nik and then back at Price. "He fought well. But not that well."

"Thanks for the feedback."

Simon hummed. "Perhaps you should do some one on one with Daddy KGB. Iron out the uh... kinks."

"Fuck you, lieutenant," Price growled quietly. "And don't." He cut the observant bastard off before he could start that innuendo, and headed towards the locker rooms.

"Ahh, don't worry," Gaz said, slapping Nik on the shoulder. "He'll lick his wounds and be back out here tomorrow."

Nik rubbed his chin thoughtfully, watching Price's retreating back. "Perhaps..."

Simon cleared his throat. "You should go help," he paused, "with the wounds."

"Da," Nik responded, leaving the ring to follow in Price's wake. He had opened an untouched vault of riches and he was keen to explore them, and so was Price, if those big blue eyes were anything to go by.

--

(Kinda want them to fuck in the shower, with Nik's hand around Price's throat, fingers so big they nestle in the hinge of his jaw, pinning him but Price relaxed and in heaven; yeah, a friend got that image in my head and I'm feral for it.)

[strwberrybils]

I know this is kinda weird to request, but can I get hobie with a gf who’s insecure of her small tits? She’s insecure because boys would make fun of her for her small chest all through out middle and high school that’s why she never lets hobie lay on her chest.

perfect body, perfect heart ft. hobie brown

♡ pairings & aus: hobie brown x smallerchested!fem!black!reader ♡ summary: hobie comforts you after he finds out why you don't like for him to lay on your chest ♡ warnings: insecurity, hobie being the sweetest brit boyfriend ever ♡ a/n: thank you for your request! and tumblr deleted this the first time so i had to rewrite it, sorry this took so long! *nawt proofread like at all* ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

HOBIE WAS A SUCKER for your body in general. Your thighs, your arms-- whatever it was, he appreciated every inch of you. When you guys cuddled, he loved to rest his head on you if he wasn't being the bigger spoon. Usually, he would opt to lay on your bum or your thighs while he scrolled through his phone, or even took a nap.

In this particular moment, you were laying on your back atop your bed as you scrolled mindlessly on Instagram. You heard two knocks sound from your doorframe and you looked up to see your boyfriend smiling at you. He was shirtless, his hair in a high bun, "G'na take some cuddles from 'ya."

Hobie giggled and so did you as he made his way over to you. You tried to flip over to your stomach, but his hand grabbed your shoulder as he looked at over at you, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You give him a superficial smile, “You still wanna cuddle?”

Hobie shakes his head, “Mm, I think I’ma take a nap. I’m absolutely knackered.”

He starts to lay on top of your chest, but you quickly flipped over to where you were laying on your chest, phone in hand. You watch out of the corner of your eye as Hobie lays down beside you, looking up at you. “Do you not wanna take a kip with me? Why’re you bein’ shy, love?”

“Why don’t you just lay on my thighs or something?” You questioned him, “Why do you wanna lay on my chest so bad?”

Hobie shrugs, “I dunno, ‘s comfy. Why wouldn’t I wanna lay on your-“

“Because there’s nothing to lay on.” You cut him off, burrowing your face into one of your decorative pillows. Muffled, you sigh frustratingly, “I’m flatter than a board, Bee. I don’t even see how you’re still attracted to me.”

Your boyfriend is silent for a moment. At first, you think it’s because you either said something wrong or he’s trying to break the news to you that he doesn’t like you.

But of course, that isn’t the case at all. He inches closer to you, snaking on top of you and flipping you over so that your back is pressed up against your blankets, his chin resting on your stomach.

“My love,” He starts, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, “I like your boobs. I always have.”

You chuckle at the way he says ‘boobs’, but Hobie’s just about as serious as you could imagine. You feel his cold hands sneak onto your waist, and then under your shirt where he’s cupping your cleavage. “‘M not kiddin’, doll. I love layin’ on you and napping with you, and I wouldn’t trade your boobies for the world.”

“Stop sayin’ boobies like that.” You laugh and sniffle when Hobie realizes that there are tears in your eyes. He frowns, “Why the tears, sweetheart?”

“I just love you.” You remarked, “In middle and high school I always got bullied for how small chested I was, so I felt like you wouldn’t like it, either.”

Hobie scoffed as he laid his head down on your chest completely, “Your chest? Not like? Absolutely not— if I could, I’d stay right here forever.”

You smile at him as he gives your chest a slight massage. He sighs into you,

“Now, if you’ll excuse me…I think I’m gonna take a nap.”

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

"I dunno. A car it's like... like I dunno I guess like," Steve bites his lip, leans back over the hood of his glorious beater he's been lovingly, 'n often painstakingly, fixin' up. There's a hotness burnin' up the back of his throat that pisses him off to no end. He shuts his eyes, runs a hand over his face, tries again.

"Like, when you work with a car there's just- like- there's kinda these-ugh!" Steve scowls. There are tears of frustration burnin' up behind his eyes 'n that just pisses him off more. He knows what he's trying to say so why can't he just say it.

"Take your time, man." Soda tilts his head to the side, absentmindedly pulls a thread out of his DX shirt. He's not like most guys Steve knows. The kind that make him feel like there was somethin' fuckin' wrong with him for needin' a minute to put his words in order. Or the kind that politely looked away when hot tears stacked up behind his eyes. No, Soda looked right at him like he had all the time in the world 'n he was spendin' it on purpose with Steve. Just waitin' on him to say what he meant.

God. Sometimes Steve felt like the luckiest guy alive. But then Soda leans over 'n steals the last bite of Steve's hotdog 'n the effect is mildy ruined.

Steve pulls his knees up across the hood 'n rests his head back on the windshield. He can feel the Tusla sun beatin' down even through his DX shirt. It had been a slow day. A Thursday in the middle of August when the end of summer clung to everythin' 'n hung heavy 'n slow in the air.

"When you're workin' on a car, only half of it is knowin'. You gotta be able to sorta sense some of it." Steve wrinkles his nose, shakes his head. "Does that make any sense?"

He peeks around his leg to see Soda. He's layin' flat on his back on the car parked beside Steve's. A beetle bug that they were supposed to be replacing the oil valve gasket in. But it would be a quick job 'n even Soda wasn't immune to the way August made you want to just sit still for a moment. The hood on Soda's was significantly more sloped 'n he kept almost slidin' off. But when Steve looks over Soda's got his head to the side, blinkin' at Steve, blonde hair fallin' in waves around his eyes.

"Oh. Like a horse." Soda nods to himself, almost slides right off onto his ass again.

"Huh?" Steve sits up, raises an eyebrow 'n Soda slips off the front, clambers onto Steve's beater.

"Like a horse." Soda's grinnin' wide with all his teeth like only Soda can.

"Ok. Wanna elaborate?" Steve have never gotten into the rodeo thing as much as Soda had. He'd go, sure. Hell, he'd ridden once or twice but he was never like Soda. He had loved those things. Well. Until.

"When you're ridin' a horse, right? You can't think about it like you 'n the horse are two separate things. The second you do that, that horse is gonna realize it don't want you on it one bit. You gotta sense what it wants. What it needs. 'Cause the horse sure as hell ain't gonna tell you. I figure, it's the same with a car, right? Like, sure, you can teach someone how to ride but they gotta have that extra somethin' that makes you good at it. You can teach any loser to fix a part but it takes somethin' to be a mechanic. Right?"

Steve blinks at Soda. Once, twice. Soda's eyes are bright 'n focused like they always are when he talks about ridin'.

"Yeah, somethin' like that."

"Well, that makes sense. You put that real good Stevie." And Steve snorts 'n doesn't remind him one bit that it was him that put it all together.

Soda grins at him, worries his lip, 'n slouches back down. "I miss it. Y'know?"

And Steve does know. 'Cause whatever you needed to go all the way? Soda had it. Soda absently runs his thumb around his kneecap, frowns.

That was the problem with these slow August days. They were fit for rememberin' even when you didn't want to.

"Hey, Steve?" Soda folds legs up under him, pushes his bangs from his eyes.

"Yeah, Sodapop?"

"I think you got it. Whatever it is. You're gonna make it big time. One day I'm gonna turn around 'n you're gonna be on the front of one of them car magazines." Steve's heart does a sudden, violent ache.

"Yeah, I'll be the girlie in the bikini, draped over some hot rod." Steve leans back on the windshield again, drops a hand to his forehead.

"Nah, that's my job. Lemme be the arm candy, it's all I'm good for." 'N Soda's grinnin' 'n laughin' but it's not funny. Really.

A car pulls into the DX 'n Soda slides off the hood 'n goes to take their gas. Two kids clamber out, hay clingin' to their clothes, wreakin' like a stable 'n huge grins plastered on their faces. Soda pulls up short, mid-step.

Steve hurries to catch up with him. Soda's got this kind of, longin' in his eyes, his smile waverin'. Steve puts a hand between his shoulder blades 'n Soda's grin pulls right back up at the corners like a puppet.

"Shame they ain't girlies, could have gotten a real sweet tip." Soda starts back up again, takin' long lopin' steps.

"Hey Soda!" Soda stops, spins halfway around. "Some people get it for one thing. Cars or horses or writin' or whatever. Whatever you got Soda? It's better than all that shit. 'Cause you don't fix up cars. You fix up people."

Soda blinks at him. "You didn't stutter or nothin'."

"I didn't." Soda tilts his head, the boys in the car hit their horn, a song blasts from a passin' truck, the sun beats down.

"Like horses?" Soda's hair is like a halo in the light, his eyes big 'n waitin'.

"Like horses."

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Of course I've heard the new Hozier EP...

|| Too Sweet ||

Frank Castle x reader

It's the blood wet on your skin that does it. His blood. It smears and taints you as you pull the knot tight and cut the final stitch free by the soft light of your bedside lamp.

He screws his eyes closed for a few seconds but when he opens them again you're still there, carefully cleaning the wound, wiping the blood away trying not to make it sting as if that kind of soft pain is remotely worse than what he's already endured on his grisley crusade. It's almost ridiculous, how gentle you are despite everything. How even in the early hours, you welcome him without question in to your home, your bed, your arms.

Somehow, you're able to lift the heavy weight of all his past and future and hold him in the clear simplicity of now.

You're putting away the bandages and needles, and now, as you apply the soothing salve of your kisses on his dirty, battle-worn skin, Frank can't cope. He doesn't deserve the honesty in your love. You give and he takes and yeah, he tries his damndest to give it back, but what he's got is charred, broken, and corrupted. It doesn't match. Its been so long since he's had something close to that, and he's only seeing this for the first time like some kind of fucked up epiphany.

He pinches the thick bridge of his nose as if waking from a nightmare, but it's the opposite.

Your eyes search for the problem, another thing for you to fix with your gentle touch and he can't stand it.

"Don't need to do this." He says, head shaking slowly from side to side as you meet him with a puzzled look.

"Frank, I'm not letting you run around bleeding out-"

"No, that's just it. You don't need this kinda shit from me. You've got your own life and things to care of. You don’t need this, dont need me."

He's acting like a spooked dog. You don't know where all this fear has come from so suddenly. You place your hand on his face, cupping his jaw and making him see that you mean what you say, not for one second letting him cower away and hide.

"What if I do need you, huh? You ever think about that? What I want?" You ask him.

Frank still struggles to meet your eyes. "I-I ain't no good, sweetheart... I've done things I ain't proud of, things you shouldn't even know about.'

"But I do know about them, and look, Frank, look! I'm still here with you."

"It ain't right though, layin' that kind of shit at your door."

To hell with that, you think.

"I know it ain't a competition, but I can be just as nasty. I can roll around in the dirt and get my hands dirty if I need to, you know that. C'mon Frank, I'm no princess."

"It ain't all that-"

"Then what? Do you want out?"

If he did, you definitely hadn't see this coming.

"No, 'course not."

"Then tell me."

He hesitates.

"You're too sweet f'me." He finally says quietly.

You can't help but laugh.

"Frank Castle, the day I'm too sweet for you will be the day I stop drinking coffee. And that's never just in case it isn't clear."

You catch the slight ghost of a smile picking up the edge of his mouth.

"I'm serious." You say.

You swing your leg over his, settling in his lap and hooking your arms around his neck. You'll make sure he gets the message alright.

"Let me show just how sweet I am..."

~ Please reblog if you liked my writing! Thank you 💕

[avenging-fandoms]

i know this will sound too weird, but can i request something for sin hours? where y/n is also a singer and she meets harry at the studio, they're both tired but end up having some... fun? LMAO i'm so weird (btw, i love your work and hope you're fine!)

*you know the faint moaning in 'cinema'? just.. you'll see*

**kinda long.. bear with me. i love this fic

*it's smut. if you don't like it, that's okay! i'm sure there's other great harry fics. if you aren't 18+ FUCK RIGHT OFF

-

You had just flown in from Japan that morning, but you couldn't turn down the opportunity to work with Harry Styles. Harry never did collaborations on albums but you two wanted to work together.

The building was nice, and outside stood Harry with a few other people. You hop out of the car with a smile, Harry's arms immediately opening and you couldn't help but squeeze him a bit. "I have loved you for so long, this is a dream."

Harry grabbed your shoulders and bent down a bit. "I have been obsessed with you for a long time, your lyrics are amazing." He compliments you and you can't help but blush. Harry flashes a smile before introducing you to the people outside. "Shall we begin?"

The session was supposed to start at 8, but you guys didn't officially start until 9:45. You all got caught up talking about deep things, adventures, advice. It was like you had known these people for years and you had just met them an hour ago.

When the session actually started, it was like magic as you two worked with one another. Correcting or changing something the other does politely, so many compliments and singing harmonies together.

"Yn, get in there with Harry and sing the harmony with him." You open your mouth to speak, but you just stutter. "You did it out here, go ahead."

You head into the room as you gulp and Harry holds out a pair of headphones. He counts you two down and the music starts, the both of you singing, enjoying how you sound together so much you can help but sing the whole song with him.

The audio ends and you let out the biggest yawn. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I just flew in from Japan this morning and did not get as much sleep as I needed when I got home." He holds the door open for you and you thank him quietly.

"I completely get it, I just came back from Greece." You sit on the couch and he sits next to you with a bit of space, listening to you both singing. "That sounds incredible," Harry looks at you and grabs your thigh. "You are incredible."

You inhale sharply, your lips becoming dry as you open your mouth. Your tongue pokes out slowly and he watches. "Thank you."

Harry winks and looks away from you, standing up. "Let me sing what we have for 'Cinema.' It's just the beginning?" He asks and you couldn't answer, you had no idea was 'Cinema' was.

The music started to go and he started to sing. You watched as he sang, closing his eyes softly, moving his mouth to the side sometimes. "If you're getting yourself wet for me, I guess you're all mine."

You move a leg over the other and lean forward, hand over your mouth. That was so fucking hot.

An hour later, a few people had to leave, then 20 minutes later everyone else left, you and Harry saying you're going to stay to record some more.

""Cinema' is quite the risqué song, Mr. Styles. I love it." You smile as you sit on the stool. Harry smirks as he closes the door, standing in front of your microphone.

"It's missing something though, don't you think? Especially in the beginning." He moves next to you, moving his stool behind you and you lick your lips quickly with an excited shiver.

"Yes.. but.. what were you thinking?" You ask quietly, looking up as he towered over you. His hand holds your cheek softly, inhaling slowly with a smile.

"I want something faint in the background. A noise. And with the lyrics in the song.." His lips kissing your neck softly, your hands immediately grabbing the back of his biceps and whimper.

"Harry.."

"Something like that, yeah." He chuckles and pulls away, laying you back against the stool. "Is it okay if I touch you?"

"Yes, oh god yes please." You beg and he moves his microphone next to him by your head. His fingers pull up your shirt a bit, pushing into your sweatpants and into your underwear. Your hips move in the air as you tried to get his hand closer, but he didn't move.

"So responsive. Do you like being touched?" He leans over you, hips in front of your face with his hard on pressing through his sweatpants. You drop your jaw and pull the waist band down and moan when his dick is exposed.

"Do you?" You ask, spitting in your hand and stroking him slowly, moaning as he slides two fingers into you. You moan and shake your hips, moving them against his hand. His palm rubs your clit as you do, your hand moving faster as your orgasm approached quickly. "Fuck me, Harry."

"Are you sure? I don't have.. I'm clean."

"Me too. And I'm on birth control. Just please fuck me." Harry picks you up over his shoulder, putting you on the couch and pulling off his hoodie, to which you took off your shirt. Harry kissed you and held your breasts in his hands, twisting and pulling and flicking your nipples as he pushes you back against the couch.

"I need a taste." Harry hums, disappearing between your legs and immediately moving his tongue all over your pussy. You gasp and grip his hair, rolling your hips and shaking. "So fucking delicious." You pulled him in for a kiss, Harry locking his arm under your knee and bend the other one. "Put it in."

You smile and grab his dick, sliding his tip up and down your pussy. "Fuck.." You throw your head back and Harry moves his dick against your clit, and you could cum just then. Harry got impatient and did it himself, the both of you moaning.

"How far is too far with you, Yn? Kink wise." He asked, moving in and out of you slowly. You bite your lip, holding his chin and pushing your thumb in his mouth, pulling him towards you.

"Show me what you got, Styles."

Harry picks your hips up off the couch and fucks you into him, your hands holding desperately onto his arms. He slowed down and flipped you over, pulling your hips up and holding your wrists behind your back as he fucks you roughly.

"Fuck.. fuck.. Harry.." Your fingers tried to grab anything, but he had a tight grip with just one hand. The other hand laid hard smacks on your ass, then gripping your hair tightly and forcing your head back.

Harry let go of your hands and held your hip, twisting your hair around his fist. You sit up and Harry pulls out of you, the both of you on your knees as you kiss him roughly. You sit him down on the couch and push his legs out, sitting on his lap and moaning as you slide onto him.

"Your moans are just as pretty as you sing." He whimpers, kissing your neck as you bounce on him. You lay back and hold his knees as you continue to bounce your hips. Harry's thumb rubs your clit and your moans harmonize together, your orgasm quickly approaching.

You sit up and grip the hair on the back of his head, biting his jaw and collarbone. "Can I leave marks?"

"I wish you could, but all my outfits expose my neck and chest." He throws his head back and closes his eyes. "Where can I cum, sweetheart?"

"In me." Your arms wrap around his neck and he laughs.

"Are you sure? That's very risqué." His nails scratch down your back and thrusts his hips up. Harry's mouth kisses down your chest, moaning against your tits as his nails dig in your skin.

"Come on, Harry. Come on.." You smile, brushing your hair out of your face. Your fingers trace his features and watching as he cums, smiling slowly as you hear him whimper your name.

"Did you..?" You shake your head and his eyes widen, now pushing you back against the couch and wrapping his left hand around your throat, ring and middle fingers on his right hand quickly fucking you.

You gasp and hold onto his arm for dear life, moving your whole body and screaming his name. "Good girl, good job." He breathes, pulling out of your slowly and kissed you gently. "Wait here."

You laid on the couch with a bright smile on your face, Harry coming back a few minutes later with towels. "Towels? At a studio?"

"Sometimes I get sweaty when recording, I just get really into it." He shrugs, spreading your legs open delicately as he cleaned you up while humming.

You sigh contently and close your eyes, Harry continuing to hum as he kissed your thigh, your hip, your stomach. You smile and move your head, licking your lips. He kissed your chest, your collarbone, your neck, your jaw, your lips.

"I'm going to need more studio sessions with you."

[anonsturniolo]

Taste ✧₊⁺

Small blurb (kinda) of situationship!matt x reader ✧₊⁺

Oh, I leave quite an impression

Five feet to be exact 

Matt’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he towered over me. I frown up at him, lifting my hand to tug on his shirt. “You’re so short.” He pointed out, letting his eyes trail down my body. 

I let out a huff, “Thanks I had no idea, Matt. Are you gonna kiss me now or worry about how close to the ground I am?” I ask him, tugging his shirt to make him bend down to slot his lips on my own. 

You’re wonderin’ why half his clothes went missin’ 

My body’s where they’re at 

Chris stormed into Matt’s room, where I was currently waiting for him. Chris looked slightly startled once he saw me tucked underneath Matt’s silky covers, but quickly recovered and carried on to Matt’s closet. 

“Have you seen Matt’s green shirt that says, survey, I think on it?” He asks me with his back turned, shuffling through the shirts Matt has hung up. 

I laugh softly, “Chris.” I call out, making him turn his head, just in time to see me sit up on the bed revealing the shirt on my body. 

“Well shit.” 

Now I’m gone, but you’re still layin’ 

Next to me, one degree of separation

I softly sigh, letting my tired eyes stay shut longer than they should, “What are we doing here Matt?” I quietly ask, reopening my eyes to meet his. He was so close to me, if I shifted at all our noses would touch. I can feel the exhale before I hear it, sending chills across my body. 

“We’re just having fun here, baby.” He whispers, and I can feel my heart begin to ache before the split consumes me, and I can’t hold it back anymore. I let the sobs rake through my body, and Matt is instantly tugging me into his embrace, doing his best to soothe me. 

“I’m sorry.” He places a gentle kiss on my forehead before he shuffles out of the bed, and leaves me to cry by myself, my sobs getting louder as I hear my front door opening and shutting. 

I heard you’re back together and if that’s true

You’ll just have to taste me when he’s kissin’ you 

If you want forever, I bet you do

Just know you’ll taste me too 

My heart thumps wildly in my chest as my eyes connect with Matt’s, my own boyfriend's hands circling around my waist. Matt and I hadn’t spoken in almost 3 months, as I had gotten back together with my ex, mostly to spite him. To show him he can’t have me anymore. 

“I’ll be right back.” I yell over my shoulder, not waiting for a response as I make my way towards the bathroom, avoiding Matt’s heated gaze. I open the bathroom door and step inside, but before I can close it, another body is pressed to mine within seconds, slamming the bathroom door shut. 

“What the hell!” I gasp, finding my footing as I look up to see none other than Matt. 

He glares down at me, “What are you doing here?” He demands harshly. 

“Having a good time with my boyfriend.” I spit back, relishing in the way his nostrils flare and his cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink. 

He slowly begins to smirk, a condescending laugh escaping his lips, “I bet you wish you could taste me when he’s kissin’ you.” He mutters, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, before he slowly releases me and turns to leave the room. 

Matt opens the door, turning to face me slightly, “Have a good night, baby.”

[kithtaehyung]

this man really got me back on the mic for this lol lyrics under the cut | also now on ig if you’re on there!

Uh, I’m on my jungkook jeon One look got all the honeys saying “oh it’s on” Be kinda poetic, it’s kinda pathetic How the beat be getting cooked on, bunny call a medic, uh Sorry to bug you but I’m so smooth with it This the typa beat to seep right through with it Meet and cruise with it, freak and snooze with it Jack wanting more on the street might groove with it Hah, I’m just playing though Silver spoon, nah, we just staying gold Hole in one, yah, but we layin' low* 이해가 안 되?** lemme say it slow One two step let’s see it in 3-D Four five shots I’m calling in 6G Seven different ways, seven different days, JK on the mic, he ateeee

*"layin' low" - hyolyn **이해가 안 되? = you don't understand?

[ask-maxie-boy]

Goonion's Ghoul (Part 4)

Bruce does a little digging. This one's a little more serious, but dont worry, the shenanigains resume next chapter <3

Part 1 & 2 Part 3

The pool hall was fairly quiet tonight. It was a dim place who's customers were the only thing shadier than its corners. The smell of smoke lingered in the whole building, but the usual cloud that held over the room seemed to be gone.

The "No Smoking" sign on the door was new, and it seems like people were listening. Bruce fiddled with the stick match between his fingers - he wondered if it was going to be a problem.

"8 Ball, side pocket" Clack!

"Tch. Good game, whatever."

As the men and small crowd around them get their bet earnings, Bruce approached with a predatory grin. "Hey fellas, mind if I get in on a game?"

Most of the men seemed to be sizing him up, but one in particular (the one who won the last match) inhaled sharply. "Matches fuckin' Malone, I haven't seen you 'round here in a while! You sonofabitch, where ya been?"

'Matches Malone' pulls his titular match out from his teeth, and puts on an annoyed face. "Bah, deal went south, had to lay low for a while." Someone handed him a pool stick, prompting Bruce to nod and grab some pool chalk.

"I getcha. We can go a round, Matches. Loser buys a round at the bar for everyone."

"Jeez, I said I was just layin' low and thems are the stakes?" Matches' grin comes back, a gleam rolling along his aviator shades. "Guess I could use a free drink, so why not?"

The other guy rolls his eyes. "Well, aren't you confident. Promise that'll changes once the game starts."

The game gets set up quickly, and they let Malone break. He lines up his stick, but isn't too concerned about exactly how to hit this shot.

"Say," Bruce asks, "I heard there's a new way of gettin' some help around here. Any'a you know about it?" The cue ball slams into the triangle of other balls.

"Oh, you're askin' about the Goonion? You don't gotta beat around da bush. Even if you weren't in good company, there ain't no need to be hush about it." The 7 ball rolls into a corner pocket, a solid color sunk.

Its an easy shot to the 5, side pocket. "Wouldn't expect that from a big band 'a criminals," Bruce says, casually lining up the hit, "but I guess that's Gotham for ya. So, how do I get in contact?" *Clack!*

"There's a big place on 29th street, down by Proctor Ave." The 5 cleanly rolls into the next pocket. "They put up a big sign just yesterday, you cant miss it."

The next shot is a bit more tricky, trying to get the 3 without hitting the 10 in. "No shit? A big ol' sign that says 'Hey, a buncha lackeys here!' right out in the open?"

The other guy snorts. "I mean, the cops don't give a damn, and the criminals are already in on it. That just leaves the bats, but between you and me? I hear the robins are in on it."

Not only does Bruce miss the 3, he knocks the 10 in, closely followed by the cue itself. A scratch. "Well, now I know you're just fuckin' with me."

His opponent grabs the cue ball with a chuckle, and puts it just by the 12 for a clean corner pocket hit. "Like how you were with that last shot? Yeah, yeah, I'm messin' with you... kinda. There's a runnin' joke that the robins should be considered one of us."

Second stripe down, Bruce's eye twitches, hidden by his large sunglasses. "I don't see whats so funny about it, considering how many times we've had our ass handed to us on a black-n-blue platter by 'em."

Its a more difficult shot to hit the 9 in the side pocket, but the opponent aims anyway. "Yeah, Danny's got this big ol' thing about how Vigilantism's a crime and Batman's a crime lord. Ya kinda have to hear him say it, but damn if it isn't funny." He makes the shot, but the cue ball slides in the pocket with the 9, as Bruce bites back a grumble.

Its his chance to get back in the game, and clean it up. Bruce puts the ball on the table, and lines up a shot that should also get him in position for the next few. "Danny, eh? Whats his deal anyway? Everyone seems all buddy buddy with the guy, but I can't find out a thing about him. He some kinda "

The normal sound of a pool stick hitting the cue is clean, crisp, and short. A satisfying ricochet right to where it was aimed, sealing a calculated move into victory.

That is not the noise that echoes through the hall.

Instead, the stick bounces off of the cue strangely, shaking awkwardly as a much harsher CLACK! attacks everyone's ears, as the ball rolls slowly in the wrong direction, and hits nothing.

His opponent, and everyone with and without money on the game, look right at him. Some are giving dirty looks, some seem angry, others just discontent. A few look ready for a fight to break out, as the sudden tension ensnares him. He gets the feeling its not the bum shot they're upset about. "Uh... any chance I can try that hit again?" He asks sheepishly, analyzing exits, preparing for the brawl that might happen, and a cover story for how Matches got out of being attacked by this many people.

Bruce winces as his opponent places their hand on his shoulder, but doesn't strike back just yet. His opponent still seems tense, but not rearing back an attack. "Matches, you'se a good guy, so I'm gonna let you off easy on this one. But for 'da future, dont go askin' around about Danny. He doesn't like people poking into his business.”

The crowd seems to calm down a bit, but there's still a few bad looks being sent towards Bruce. He puts some hint of worry in his voice, dusting off his suit to sell the idea that that shook him up. “I.. I see. Caposh.”

His opponent goes back to the table, picking the cue off the table after Matches' bad hit. “...He's just a kid, Matches. Smart, kind,” he lines up his next shot on the 11, “I'd call him naive if he didn't prove he knew what he was doing.” A clean shot, into the side pocket.

“If you're goin' to the Goonion, you'll meet him and see.” Another easy shot, 13 into the corner. “He does good work. The Hood may have started the union, but Danny stoked the flames, kept us together when we wanted to fall apart.” A hard hit, the cue ball stopping dead as it strikes its target, knocked straight into the pocket. “He fought for us, went up against some of the most dangerous people in Gotham and told them to kneel.” Someone in the crowd murmurs, “Stronger together,” which has him roll his eyes. “Yeah yeah, we all did it, sure. But someone needed to face 'em down, and not only did he bite the bullet,” 14 ball, corner pocket, “he spat it right back out at 'em.”

“He got us dental!” Someone cheers, and most of the crew cheers with him, clinking beer bottles together.

“Point is, he's a good guy who does a good job, and the least we can do is stick our noses out of his business.” 15 ball, opposite corner. “We don't need him getting hurt because we couldn't do that.”

Something flickers in Bruce's eyes at that last comment, noting the slightly somber tone. “...he didn't ask you to stay away, did he?”

“He didn't need to. I told ya, you'll get it when you meet him.” He points out his last shot, “8-ball, corner,” and hangs over the table to aim his cue. “People like him don't usually stick around Gotham, and not by their own choice. If someone finds out you're the one who made him leave, whether you meant it or not...”

The 8 ball rolls cleanly into the pocket, a promise fulfilled. “You'll be lucky if you're found with a bullet to the head.”

An open secret. One that puts him in harms way if the details get out. Details people are purposefully avoiding, out of gratitude. Makes things difficult for him.

“...Well, a deal's a deal. A round on me, everyone!”

@akikkobara @thegatorsgoose @addie-lover-of-stories @apointlessbox @screamingtofillthevoid @semiprofessionaldumbass @sailor-goddess @malice-of-the-sunrise @savaton @spikedlynx @emergentpanda-blog @starlightcat04 @demented-trashcan @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff @soren1830 @vixen-uchiha @rowanaway-fromthisbs @space-dreams-world @wolfeyedwitch @the-legal-shipper @gmkelz11 @dannyphantomphan @idkmrpianoman @somuchyikes @blankliferain @thatonegirl10 @thewondersoflebanon @cass-brightwood @coruscateselene @hallowsden @avelnfear @ultimatebluff @kryzs2000 @blep-23 @jaguarthecat @all-mights-asscheeks @meira-3919 @ricekristytreaty @illya-roma @mentalcarebear @wackyattack @fisticuffsatapplebees @love-has-no-labels @dat1angell @igotafewbadideas @thordottir45 @idfk-man10 @choppedphantomsweets @dragonfirefeather @smol-book-nerd @randomkiddoscrewingaround @alinmenttreasure @queen-of-the-grapefruits @cyber-geist @bianca-hooks123 @gaelic-holiday

[helloarchivist]

Hi! I think that's my first ask to you? Eventhough I've been following you for a while. 🫣

What's your favourite hc about Shanks?

Heya Robin!!! I think so too, but that's exciting, thank you for wanting to stop in and talk! :"D

God tho idek where to start, all I do is spin that man in circles in my head all day long. I think my most frequently used headcanon is that he's really sappy and sweet and doting when he's in love, that always ends up figuring centrally into my daily thoughts and the little snippets I write out for him.

One of the other ones I like for him though is that he kinda plays down the more exceptional parts of himself because it's no fun to hang out if everyone's either scared of you or in awe the whole time.

I think that there are a lot of reasons that he doesn't do or take much seriously unless its necessary but like. Nobody's gonna play cards with you if you beat em every hand, people aren't gonna be comfortable partying with you if you throw around your power and status all the time, etc etc, so he's like. Slouchy silly little guy! Drinks are on me let's play a few rounds!! Just a guy layin on a hammock wearing sandals at the beach unless it's necessary to not be, because it's more important to him to connect and have fun with his friends and the people around him than it is to Be The Best at whatever is happening.

He's just a silly! He just wants to have fun c: to me anyway.

I could literally go on forever talkin about him lmfao. Thank you so much for your ask my friend!!

[silverprism-s]

qpr sasushi thoughts... inspired by this post by @purrpurra i just imagine the three of them slowly growing closer, and like, suguru normally doesnt like to touch other people but bc satoru is always finding ways to touch him, he slowly got over it, and shoko sort of ending up close often, think like late night gaming on the (idk what console wouldve been available in like 2006, insert one here) and shoko doesnt even care about the game but somehow she resting her head on sugurus lap and satorus halfway laying on her legs as he complains about what suguru is doing in the game (they havent bought more controllers yet. or maybe the console cant handle multiple. will need research i genuinely dont know 😂) and they just sort of... fall into a habit.

both shoko and satoru loveeee to tease suguru and generally annoy him, either by constantly saying his name or poking at him/tugging on his clothes. not the hair, though. they learned to not do that pretty quickly. sometimes suguru sees those 2 share a Look and he just groans and tells them to quit it off before they even start. sometimes they listen sometimes they dont.

one day suguru mentions that a movie hes interested in is in theaters and both satoru and shoko are like. "okay??? what are we waiting for??? lets go watch?" so they all go watch it (awww cute dateeee) and have fun. except. both satoru abd shoko thought the movie was so boring. they exchange a look behind sugurus back and then start layin into him at the cafe they stopped at after the movie.

sat: "suguru is this rly ur taste in movies??"

sho: "yeah that was pretty lame. have you ever watched a real horror movie?"

sug: "oh god. seriously guys?"

sat+sho just snicker.

eventually shoko starts to just kinda wonder about what exactly suguru and satoru mean to her. her mother always used to joke about when would shoko finally find a good man to take care of her (why do ppl talk to preteens this way man i swear) and stuff like that but shoko has never really felt anything that could be romantic attraction, or so she thought, but she feels More about sat+sug, like. is that a crush? was she really "supposed" to pick one of them? the idea of that was preposterous to her, they were shokosatorusuguru. it couldnt be just shokosatoru or shokosuguru. didnt feel right, like there was a piece missing.

she admits the part abt not knowing what romantic love or a crush is like at all one day to sat+sug, while theyre walking down the halls of jjh, returning to the dorms wing. it wasnt anything special, she had rehearsed it or even felt that it was a big deal, until after she said it. suguru's smile is far too devious for her liking and she sort of glares at him while satoru is oddly silent.

sat: "what if we tried kissing?"

sho: "what? why?"

sug: "to see if you have a crush" hes smirking still. "you should kiss satoru first."

sho: the idea isnt bad but why is she kind of nervous now? "okay"

[hyukalyptus]

Ohohihiohii hp, I'm watching Yeonjun's live replay and oh my shshsks the glasses and the way he keeps takinging them on and off, adjusting them... it took me right back to your Professor Yeonjun thought where reader was graduating and she gave her number. It's giving first video call, the way he's trying to not show his room too much (Professors are very bysy all year so his room isn't as clean as he'd like you to see it) and he's coming off nervous and awkward, trying to get his hair right, and it's your first time seeing him in casual clothes. Eeeeee yes, I am in delulu land 🫣💕 I'll go back to watching it now hehe

omg i know he looked so delicious in this live, sososo boyfriend and so cute and cozy and im so jealous of anyone that gets to hug that man fr.

cw. professor!yeonjun, adult!student!reader, reader is still currently a student but not his student, fluff, sfw link in last paragraph.

but OMG i love this idea of the first video call thing. big brain actually. maybe they haven't even gone on a first real date yet, just texted and called and maybe a coffee date, but nothing like he wants to do.

but the chemistry between them even over the phone is undeniable. listening to each other talk for hours just bc u want to. and just oh, lemme show you this song, and he plays u the song he's had stuck in his head all week thinkin about you!!!!

and OHOH maybe she hasn't graduated yet, just not in his class anymore, but he waited until the spring semester to text her and he's all "how are your classes this semester?" literally already giggling and kicking me feet over that AH idk why honestly..protective kink? idk maybe and she's all "ah, i have this one professor that's kinda annoying" "who?" "professor ______" "ah, yeah he's no good."

and he helps her with her hw :( FUCK literally whatever im living my college fantasy rn and y'all won't be able to bully me

but anyway- just layin in bed, answering the questions you have.. "ah, we covered this in my class!" "well, i dunno...it was kinda hard to focus sometimes" >< ehehehe

omg he's so cute fr