#i'd live in my damn car to get away from you

[darkshrimpemotions]

I'm making this a new post because unlike some people, I don't like putting relentless bullshit in other people's notifications (I am speaking of the OP, I could not give a fuck less about the replier's notifications, since they clearly don't care about ours). But I'm replying to this:

@ineffably-human said: So first of all, this is not the only show in the world with meaningful lighting and costumes because that is literally the job of lighting and costuming if they try. And those people can try even when the writers do not. (And we only know if something is meant if they tell so.)

Second, a fandom is a community. I hope you understand how hurtful it is to tell people they suck and wish ill on them (however minor and funny 'I hope your bacon burns' is, that's still what it is) and tell them to get out so you can have fun (this is less funny and something I have seen) because they don't agree with whatever opinions are going on in your specific corner of it. And conversely I hope no one has made you feel unwelcomeforliking the finale, and if any of us have, me included, then that's our bad. I get the frustration of seeing something other people aren't. But trust me, we're hurting that a show we loved is gone and we can't even feel satisfied in how it went out. And if we feel betrayed by how we feel the show's queerness should have been handled, that's all the worse. Making us out to be a hate-spewing problem is kind of messed up. This is less just about you and more about an overall trend, so I'm sorry for going off a bit, but I hope you understand why I did.

Literally where did anyone say this was the only show to ever do anything. What. Because OP certainly did not say that.

But yeah I gotta say this is a wild ass thing to read after a solid month of people who share your opinion on the finale being loudly insufferable on finale-enjoyers' posts, not to mention calling people who enjoy the finale delusional, self-hating, homophobic, and worse when at first we were simply saying "hey, I felt represented by this as a queer person. I felt loved and seen by this as a queer person. And maybe it's not cool for y'all to write it off as The Most Horrible Queerbait Ever To Exist and write US off as self-hating and delusional for enjoying it, just because it wasn't specifically representing YOUR queer experience."

But yeah, a harmless wish for your bacon burning is so so so so terrible and harmful, I'm SO sorry, how will you ever recover. /sarcasm

Literally learn to make your own posts you insufferable assholes, I am NO LONGER ASKING. Because yeah, fandom IS supposed to be a community, but none of y'all have been acting like it is one with the way you've been behaving, so don't try to lay that at our feet now. I have zero interest in being in community with people who are not only determined to be miserable themselves but to shit on everyone else who isn't miserable as well. I've been having a great time with the people that DON'T want to be assholes every minute of the day, but the Venn diagram between them and people whining about the finale being queerbait are basically two circles that do not touch.

I'm just so incredibly unbelievably COMPLETELY done with this bullshit because it IS a trend. A trend of half this fandom being so loud and obnoxious and needlessly mean about the finale to the point that the tag is basically unusable, so when you act like you haven't seen it in your reply, I simply do not believe you. At this point I've blocked more accounts than I ever followed in the WWDITS fandom in the first place, explicitly because they keep showing up in my notes and on my posts and on my friends' posts with their whining about how much they hated the finale. So for someone to come in a month later like "omg why would you be mean" is just. Fucking LAUGHABLE. God.

[yandere-fetish]

Yandere Patient X Female Reader

Part One

warnings: disrespect, rude, slow burn

Yandere Patient is a highly dignified CEO on his way to one of his many companies from the vast countryside. He's reading the newspaper and catching up on the latest magazines, detailing the latest hot topics and debates. The indifferent expression paired with wire framed glasses only made his handsome face more attractive.

The driver comes to a stop at a stop sign while looking both ways. There's no one around. He turns right to drive towards the city.

Yandere Patient reaches for a small drink out of the mini fridge, then the car jerks.

*SKIIIRRRTT*

*CRASH*

Yandere Patient is knocked out as his legs are disfigured in a gory way. The pain was unbearable, but Yandere Patient was in no condition to feel the pain due to the concussion. His eyes flutter shut as the driver is crawling out the front seat, attempting to check on his master.

Yandere Patient scowls at his uncle's suggestion. He doesn't need anyone to take care of him. He doesn't need an extra person supervising the way he moves or watching his every breath.

Yandere Patient didn't need a babysitter. He's a damn grown man, for God's sake!

"They're not a babysitter. They would live in the servants quarters and tend to your needs. Just treat them like a maid. They would only aid you when you need them to—"

"*scowls* And I won't need them!"

"*sigh* Nephew, there's just some things you need to understand in life, mainly that there's no 'I' in 'team'. You cannot do everything by yourself."

"Tch. Watch me! *wheels away in his new wheelchair*"

"Jenna, *sighs and stares at a picture of his sister* what am I going to do with this kid?"

This is where you come in.

You show up at noon, ready to meet your newly appointed patient after hearing so many coworkers complain about how aggressive and snarky this patient has been since joining their agency as a client.

You really hadn't wanted to take this patient under your wing but since the agency was willing to fire anyone who didn't at least try, so you had to.

The sooner you come, the sooner you can leave.

So, here you are, standing on the doorstep of a luxurious mansion with a thirty-foot driveway. You'd never dream of living in a place such as this, let alone working in one.

Funny how you'd be doing both for a while.

When the door opens, you're greeted by a tall and broad-shouldered with a friendly smile. He welcomes you in while telling you, in detail, about his nephew's accident and his.. preferences.

At first, you're shocked and confused, but nonetheless you agree.

"I'm (Y/N) (L/N) from True Home Care. It's nice to meet you, Mister—"

"*scowls and ignores you* I thought they sent the last one?"

"Now, now, nephew. She's come all the way here. The least you can do is try her out for a day."

"I told you and that cheap company that I don't need anyone's help! I'll be fine on my own!"

"Just give her a chance. I'm certain it'll work out this time—"

*glares at his uncle and wheels away*

"*sighs* I apologize, Mrs. (L/N). He's moody, as you can tell. He should come around with some coaxing."

"I.. I'm sure he's not very open to strangers. I'd feel uncomfortable opening my home to one, especially several. And it's Miss— I'm not married. *smiles*"

"You're not? *clicks his tongue at the thought of an idea* I apologize again. Let me show you to your room for the time being."

It's been a a week since you first arrived at Yandere Patient's home. You've quickly become used to your room that's the size of a living room with a comfy as fuck bed to go with it. The 65" TV was definitely a nice addition, and let's not get started on the en suite bathroom and the walk-in closet.

To say you were happy was an understatement.

Now, though, you had wished you were still in your comfy bed instead of in the kitchen, gathering Yandere Patient's favorite tea.

In the sitting room was Yandere Patient and his uncle. They were once again discussing your presence in the mansion, as if you weren't in the other room. The loud noises made you flinch from time to time, but you just reminded yourself that whatever happens will happen. You've done your job well and that's all that matters.

When you're finished with the tea, you serve Yandere Patient, silently keeping yourself to the side while the two argue again.

After the uncle strikes a nerve into Yandere Patient, he walks out of the house. Yandere Patient is so pissed that he slams his hands on the table, making the teacup jump. You flinch as Yandere Patient fists his hands, his muscular arms flexing in anger as he suddenly begins to try to stand.

You're too late; Yandere Patient is all ready on the floor. He slams his fists into the hardwood, bruising them severely.

You're careful to go to his side, helping him up. Yet, the moment you touch his arm, Yandere Patient automatically shoves you away from him with a scowl.

You end up running into a sharp, marble vase table with nothing on it, luckily.

"Get the hell out of here! You're not wanted, nor needed here!"

"*on the verge of tears* You know what? Fuck you!"

"*bewildered at your sudden back talk* What..?"

"You think I want to take care of some selfish, inconsiderate twenty-some year old brat who only calls his uncle when he has a problem? I'd rather lay on my back and give birth to a child to take care of instead of someone like you! If it wasn't for the high pay, I wouldn't even be here taking this damn abuse! I work damn hard everyday to make sure your needs are met, and what do I get in return? Verbally ridiculed and now physically abused! I don't give a mother fuck if you're rich, handsome, or have power; my job is to take care of you and to only take care of you! If I wanted to care for a whiny and stubborn man, I'd go online and get myself a boyfriend!"

*stares wide eyed at you as you're huffing from anger and pain*

"Now, let me help you get up and to the bath so that I can take a fucking break, Sir."

After wheeling him into the bathroom and helping him undress, Yandere Patient is extremely docile and quiet. There's no protest or stubbornness coming from him, much to your relief.

Yandere Patient, on the other hand, notices how you skim over his body but you don't linger anywhere at all. He frowns, not really understanding why. Looking away as both of you help Yandere Patient into his wide garden tub, you silently tend to his needs.

Yandere Patient apologizes, to which you scoff at but accept his apology.

It's silent while you're helping him dry off and get dressed. Even while you're wheeling him to his bed.

But when you begin to aid him into bed, Yandere Patient notices the bruise from earlier forming into a nasty one.

Since your scrubs were moving to reveal your skin when you bend at an angle, he could see how clearly he had hurt you. Something churns in his heart at the memory of pushing you out of anger, embarrassment, and frustration.

Yandere Patient doesn't realize what he's doing until he's gently touching the bruise on your side.

"*flinches while standing up* What are you doing?"

"I didn't mean to hurt you.."

"It's.. it's all right. I'm not bleeding so there's nothing to worry about."

"*furrows his brows* It's not okay. I went too far. Let me make it up to you."

"Don't worry about it, Sir. There's nothing you need to make up for."

"I insist. I'll treat you to a meal, or a day at the spa? Girls care about their skin, right?"

"*smiles* It's not necessary, Sir. Have a good night. I'll be down the hall if you need anything."

*after you've left*

"I'll make it up to you, somehow.. someway."

Part Two?

[soxcreg]

Cold Secrets

Part one

Modern!Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader

Summery: You're in love with the captain of the King's Landing University hockey team. You've kept it a closely guarded secret , but something goes wrong.

Disclaimer: Enflish isn't my first language!

Word count: 1.3k

Part two, part three

After the bell rang, I left the classroom as quickly as possible and headed for the school exit. The bus would arrive at the stop in ten minutes, if I didn't make it, I'd have to walk home in the cold. The devil made me wear a skirt with nylon tights in November.

Surprisingly, I made it to the stop, but when I saw the bus, I was distracted by the ringing phone and didn't have time to wave my hand.

"Damn hell," I made a face and started whining.

I looked down at my phone and answered it, turning towards my apartament.

"Hello?" I adjusted my backpack and looked up at the brightly colored signs of cafes, hotels and pubs. "Hey, Y/N, are busy tonight? Jace and Baela are having a get-together," Helaena's voice came from the other end of the line. "And since you're family, do you have to be there?" I shivered slightly as the wind blew.

"Yeah, but they said I could invite someone. You'll come, right?" I sighed heavily. "You think this is a good idea? Last time wasn't much fun".

By last time, I meant Jace's previous get-together, which was mostly college kids. I went because Helaena asked me to, but her family distracted her from my coming , and we never saw each other that night. But I was surrounded by drunk fooball players, and I barely managed to get rid of them.

"I'll meet you this time. And I had a serious talk with my cousins about those idiots. It'll just be a few girls from the University, my brothers, cousins and the hockey team. Jace and Aegon play there, remember?" I walked down the main street and turned toward the University. My apartament was two blocks away, too bad it wasn't that close to the school. "Okay, I'll come".

I'm ready and waiting for Helaena's call. I put on a black dress, a sweatshirt on top to cover my bare arms. I put on makeup and styled my hair. It was quite difficult, my hair was frizzy and curly. I put on warm boots, a jacket and a scarf on my head. The doorbell rang. I grabbed my bag, answered the call on the phone and left the apartament.

"Hello," I locked the door and went to the elevator. "Y/N, Cregan is waiting for you in the car outside the house. He was just on his way, I asked him to give you a ride, okay?" My hand froze over the elevator button. What do her mean? I'm going with Cregan? My cheecks turned pink, my heart started beating faster. "Yeah, okay. I'll be right out".

As the elevator descended, my brain quickly processed the information. I met Cregan a year ago, when my family moved to King's Landing. Helaena invited me to meet her family, and he was visiting Jace.

Thise strange Targaryen-Hightower-Velaryon family lived in one huge house, theire family estate. We didn't talk much with Stark, but I liked him very much then. Since then, I secretly glance at him and sigh quetly. And now we are going to the party together in his car.

I tried to catch my breath and look calm. When I left the house, I saw a big black car, next to which stood the man of my dreams.

I walked up to the tall guy. "Hi," He looked at me, "Hi. Get in the car, it's cold". I nodded silently and walked to the front passenger seat. I got in, Cregan got in after me. We pulled away. I felt a little awkward. "So... Will everyone from the team be there?"

"Everyone axcept Blackwood. He's sick". We fell silent again. After a while, he suddenly broke the silence. "You're not from the University, are you?" I looked at him. His nose was slightly hooked, from past observations I could tell it was also broken. "Yeah, I'm from high school".

"How did you meet Helaena?" Cregan glanced at me, but quickly looked back at the road. "Online. We corresponded for a while, and met after my family moved here".

He smiled slightly. "Sounds like her".

"What do you mean?" I looked at him, confused. "Jace told me that she doesn't really like public places. And she only started coming to our get-together after she introduced us to you"

We talked a little more, and then drove up to the Targaryen estate. We go out of the car, Helaena was standing near the entrance. She quickly took me away from Cregan. I was a little upset, but then I got back into the conversation, this time with my best friend.

An hour and a half later, we were sitting in the living room, drunk, talking and laughing. Helaena and I were mostly silent, sometimes laughing at jokes and drinking. Someone suggested playing spin the bottle. How trite. Someone voiced my thoughts, so they suggested playing something more original. I don't think pass the card sounds better. But Aegon talked Helaena into it, and she talked me into it.

"Please, come on. Aegon won't leave you alone," Her brother chuckled from behind, "Oh, yes, beautiful, agree. We're just missing you".

And so I sit between Jace and Cregan, a little embarrassed, watching as they start passing a playing card to each other with their lips.We agreed that if the card falls, we should kiss.That's why I nervously finger the rings on my fingers.

At first everithing was decent, but then the guys got hot and drank too much. The jokers deliberately blew the cards away and kissed those to whom they were supposed to pass them. For several laps I managed to hold on to the card and not let awkward moments happen, but on the next lap Cregan lost his hold on the card. We exchanged glances.

As we hesisted, the crowd began to egg us on. They giggled quietly, began to whisper, and then pushed me and Cregan closer to each other. Then Cregan grabbed my shoulders so that I wouldn't fall and brought his face close to mine.

"Is this okay?" I looked into his eyes, they were so beauiful, mesmerizing. I blushed from the close contact with him. And there were a lot of people here. But they were all playing the same game as us. It wouldn't be weird if we kissed. "Yeah, it's okay".

He nodded, our lips touched. The kiss way slow, reeking of the alcohol he was drinking. I always had something light in my glass to avoid any mishaps. Cregan smelled something tart. Or was it his cologne? He deepened the kiss, interwining his tongue with mine. I moved stiffly, a little crumpled. I had never kissed before, so why was I doing it now. Horrible thoughts filled my head.

I pulled away from Cregan, my cheeks were burning. We looked at each other, but i quickly looked away. It was so awkward. I quickly took the card, put it to my lips and handed it to Jace. The circle started again. Everyone was already tired, so they finished the game. Helaena asked to stay the night with them, because it was already late, and I couldn't call an Uber because of the crowed. So I agreed. I went to the bathroom, my friend gave me her things. When I came out of the bathroom, Stark was there. He was also staying the night. I wished him goodnight and quickly ran to the room that was given to me for the night. Already lying in bed, I thought a lot about the kiss, but thank the Seven, I drank so much that I quickly fell asleep.

There will be a second part!

[whimsyfinny]

He’s a Winchester

Chapter 3

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, anxious Dean, anxious Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2683

MDNI 18+

A/N: another slightly shorter chapter (sorry). Idk why but I rewrote this chapter so many times to try and get it right, so fingers crossed it’s not awful. But the encounter finally happens! Not long now until we get to see Dean doing dad things, and tbh, I’m living for it. Feedback is always appreciated! Love you all

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out.

Photos from Pinterest

New Readers Start Here: Chapter 1

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Spilling the truth took a lot less time than I'd anticipated, so after a quick update texted to Kat and the much needed coffees, Dean and I decided to head over to the track. Dean himself was feeling every emotion under the sun. He expressed a constant string of heartfelt apologies for nearly the whole walk from Jolenes’ Café back to where we'd parked, despite me constantly reminding him that he has nothing to apologise for. He's here now, and that's what matters. The phrases ‘I have a son,’ and ‘I’m a dad’ seemed to intertwine with the ‘I’m sorry’s’ like a mantra, to the point where I had to stop him in his tracks and refocus his attention before his head got lost in the clouds.

“I get it, Dean. This is so much to absorb right now, and I can't imagine what is going on in that crazy brain of yours. You don't have to come with me right now, we can meet tomorrow if you want-”

“No, absolutely not. I've been absent for too long and I'll be damned if I waste another minute,” he nervously wiped his hands over his face as we approached my truck. I couldn't help but smile. “I mean, what if he doesn't like me?”

I couldn't stop the chuckle from escaping my mouth, earning a raised eyebrow from the man who was working himself into an anxious sweat.

“Dean, trust me, he's going to want to be your best friend. Especially when he knows that’s your car,” I nodded my head to the impala a few spaces away, recalling Levi's excitement when he saw it in town yesterday.

“Really?”

“Really. Plus…” I hesitated, unsure what emotion my next statement was going to stir within Dean, “he's been bullied for not having a dad around, and I think he'll be grateful for that to stop.”

Deans’ brows furrowed as he leant on the side of my truck, dropping his head and muttering a few curses.

“He's been bullied because I've not been there?” He looked up with a pained pinch in his brow. I sighed.

“Yes but trust me, your boy gives as good as he gets,” I smiled a little, bringing Dean some reassurance. I could tell the words ‘your boy’ had an effect on him. “Look,” I reached out to rub his shoulder affectionately, to which he responded with a warm hand over mine, squeezing my fingers. “We need to get going to pick him up. Why don't you come in my truck with me?” He paused for a moment, thinking, gathering his thoughts before standing up straight and nodding. “Great,” I grinned at him, a few nervous butterflies fluttering in my own stomach now. I reached for his hand again, giving it another squeeze, “let's get going then.”

Dean had insisted on driving, mainly for his own sanity and I’d happily obliged, remembering what a terrible passenger he was. After a couple of painstaking minutes of him readjusting my seat, we pulled away and headed down to the track. 

The drive was about twenty minutes, and most of that was spent in a comfortable conversation about Levi. Dean wanted to know everything. And I mean everything. His hobbies, his favourite movie, his favourite cereal, his least favourite cereal, his grades, his favourite subject… the list went on. Before we knew it, we were turning down a dirt road and pulling into a large gravel car park. As we pulled up and hopped out, the buzz of dirt bikes and loud chatter filled the air, along with the intense smell of petrol. Dean walked around to my side, looking around and taking it all in.

“Levi does this? He can ride a dirt bike?” he asked, an impressed tone to his voice. Dean had forgone the leather jacket and as I glanced at him, I couldn't help but trail my gaze over his biceps and the way the grey fabric of his t-shirt stretched around the large muscles. I looked away quickly before he caught me. Now was not the time to let my eyes or thoughts wander.

“Yeah, he's really into it, and he's good too; he has a few trophies at home. To be honest, he loves anything with wheels and an engine,” I grinned, meeting Deans’ eyes with a knowing look. He smiled back.

“Really?”

“You know, he's a lot like you - even though you've never met. It's kinda crazy,” I started heading down to the gathering point, knowing that Levi would be coming off the track soon. Dean was hot on my heels. “He even looks like you.” 

“Poor kid.”

I smacked him on the arm playfully as Dean chuckled.

“You're handsome and you know it, so shut your mouth.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Just as we were approaching the gathering point I heard a familiar voice calling my name. Looking through the crowd I saw Kat trotting up to us in her poorly chosen footwear, Toby nowhere in sight. She pulled me into a hug with a smirk already growing on her lips, and as she pulled back she turned to study the tall man at my side.

“Hmm… you are even finer than your photograph.”

“Kat!”

She ignored me.

“I'm Kat, it's nice to meet you, Dean. I feel like we'll be seeing a lot more of each other. You know, since our son's are besties,” she stuck out her hand and grasped Deans, giving it a firm shake and dropping it before he'd even uttered a word. She turned back to me, her smirk still on her lips.

“Since Levi is coming home with you today - much to Toby's disappointment - how would you feel about him sleeping over tomorrow?”

“Yeah totally, he'd love that,” I grinned at her, forever grateful.

“Great! I'll pick him up tomorrow,” she beamed, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before turning on her heels and heading back into the crowd of parents. We'd normally wait for the boys to emerge together, but I know her, and she didn't want to step on Deans’ toes. This was a big deal, and in her eyes, she was the outsider here.

“What was that?” Dean looked at me, slightly stunned with a quizzical brow.

“That,” I gestured to Kat's disappearing figure, “is Kat. She's my best friend, and to be honest I don't think I'd have made it this far without her.”

“Kat. Got it,” he seemed to make a mental note of who she was, catching on quickly that she was an important person in my life. In Levi's life. I grinned at him, perhaps a little nervously before grasping his hand and pulling him with me in the same direction Kat had left.

“Come on, he’ll be out soon, let's wait for him.”

Dean flashed the smallest smile whilst taking a deep breath. He looked down at our hands and I noticed his palms were a little sweaty. He gripped tighter, hanging to me like I was a lifeline as I pulled him through the crowd. His silence spoke volumes of his nerves, so I stopped at the edge of the gaggle of parents, fearing that he would soon find this all too much. 

For the whole five minutes that we waited, Dean didn't let go of me.

It didn't take long for the whirring of tiny engines to draw closer and closer before finally stopping, shortly followed by the chatter of smaller, childlike voices. Kids began to filter through the crowd, and it wasn’t long before a familiar outline pushing a small, black dirt bike headed our way. Suddenly Dean pulled his hand away from mine and raked his fingers frantically through his hair, pacing in a small circle.

“Shit…shit- what do I say to him? How do I talk to him? He's gonna hate me-”

“Hey hey hey, calm down, everything is fine! Trust me, Dean, Levi is not going to hate you,” I reached to rub a hand over the back of his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense and flex with every deep breath he took. 

“I've done a lot of terrifying shit in my life but this really takes the cake,” he dragged a large hand over his paleing face.

“He's an eight year old boy, baby. Trust me, you've got this.” 

He sighed before stopping in his tracks, his gaze catching mine with a twitch of his lip.

“It's been a hot minute since you've called me that, sweetheart,” he stepped closer, reaching to touch the small of my back with tender fingertips.

It took a moment for realisation to dawn, and when it did I felt heat bloom across my cheeks. 

“I-I'm sorry- it just slipped out- I didn't mean-”

“(Y/n) it's ok! I don't mind,” he chuckled slightly, his nerves seeming to dissipate. The playful glint had returned to his eye for a moment, but it was quickly replaced with something calmer, more serene. His grin lessened, but the warmth in his features remained. “I don't mind.”

I looked up at him, my heart and stomach feeling warm and light as we seemed to acknowledge our own familiarity between each other. It wasn't just Levi that connected us, and I seemed to forget that Dean and I used to be in a relationship. We were more than just a one night stand - we were intimate on multiple levels. 

“Hey mom!” 

The bubble around Dean and I popped as Levi had crept up on us, crash helmet still equipped and his bike to his side.  I felt Dean tense beside me, the air around him practically sizzling with anticipation.

“Hey there, trouble! You had a good afternoon?” I stepped up to Levi and patted his helmet. He nodded vigorously.

“Great! You can tell me all about it in the car,” I paused and glanced at Dean, frozen in place and not taking his eyes off Levi since he appeared. It took a moment for Levi to realise that Dean was even standing there, his focus still on me and his fun afternoon. After a few breaths, Dean tore his gaze away from his son and he looked over at me, his expression heavy with a whole concoction of emotions. I offered him a small smile before nodding. 

“Hey, Levi,” I crouched down to my sons’  level, “I have a surprise for you. I'm gonna need you to take your helmet off, ok?”

I saw his eyes light up as he nodded vigorously. Helping him to support his bike, he eagerly tore his helmet off, his short brown hair tousling in the process. He grinned at me, his helmet now tucked under his arm as he waited patiently. I heard a sharp inhale hiss through Deans’ teeth from behind me as he laid eyes on his sons’ face for the first time. I smiled at Levi, taking his smaller, dirt covered hand in mine.

“Ok, so… You see this man behind me?” I tilted my head in Deans’ direction, and Levi followed with his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, his grin unfaltering.

“Well,” I drew in a breath, “his name is Dean. And I knew Dean a long time ago,” there was another apprehensive pause as my own pulse quickened. “Sweetheart… Dean… He’s, well… He’s your dad.”

I watched as the grin fell from Levis’ face, his green eyes widening.

“What?” his voice was all but a whisper, his gaze flitting rapidly between me and Dean, who’d now taken a step closer.

“He’s your dad,” I repeated, reaching up to softly comb my fingers through the front of his wild hair. Levis’ bottom lip started to tremble as my words sunk in, the truth of the situation we were in starting to hit home as tears started to well in his eyes.

“You’re serious?” he squeaked with a sniff.

I nodded, the emotions from my son now bleeding into me, a lump forming in my throat.

“Yeah honey, I’m serious.”

Levis’ helmet hit the dirt with a thud and in that instant he’d thrown himself at Dean, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his mud streaked face into his shirt. His dad didn’t hesitate to return the gesture, wrapping his large arms around Levis’ shoulders and pulling him into the same crushing hug I’d received earlier today.

“Hey kid,” Dean spoke against the top of Levis’ head, his voice rasping as he choked his words out, “I’m sorry it took so long for me to get here.” 

I stood up from where I’d been crouching, now clutching the small helmet that had been flung to the ground. I drew Deans’ attention as I shifted, and I felt like my heart could have exploded in my chest when I saw the glossiness in his eyes. Tears of joy, relief and perhaps even bittersweet regret were on the brink of spilling over, and the soft smile he threw my way said a million ‘thank yous’.  The quiet sounds of Levis’ sniffling were what pulled on my heartstrings the most. The boy who loved nothing more than to race bikes, watch movies and talk about cars had grown up without a dad to share those interests with. He’d watched the other kids around him down at the track, their fathers joining in with the activities. Other kids had their dads to play sports with down at the park on a sunny Sunday afternoon. They’d had a role model who they could admire, always in the bedroom next to theirs. But not Levi. He’d had me, and I did my best to fill those fatherly shoes, but we both knew it just wasn’t the same. There were times when I think it upset me more than it had upset him, feeling like my child was missing out on something so important. But now… now that Dean was here, for however long he was planning on staying, Levi could finally experience the things he’d dreamt of for so long. I just hoped it would turn out to be everything that he’d ever imagined.

I watched as Levi finally pulled away from his dad, his tears having cleaned tracks through the mud on his face. He sniffed one my time before beaming up at Dean.

“Hey, kid,” Dean smiled softly, ruffling his hair with a hand the same size as his head, “maybe if your moms ok with it, we could hang out a bit. Maybe go and grab some ice-cream? My treat,” Dean shifted that smile to me, and I would’ve had to have had a heart of stone to decline that request.

“Of course,” I smiled back, “ice-cream sounds perfect.”

“Great,” Deans’ grin widened, a refreshed look in his eye as he let go of Levi and stepped towards me, taking the helmet from my hands. My breath caught in my throat when he pressed a warm, lingering kiss to my cheek. I took everything to not let my eyes flutter closed, to not get lost in that moment, but the familiar feeling of his lips on my skin and scent washing over awoke the butterflies in my stomach. My heart leapt in my chest, and I couldn’t help the sigh of relief when he pulled away, stepping around me. He kicked the bike stand back and wheeled the small vehicle forwards, looking at Levi and urging him to come and push it.

“Come on kid, why don’t you tell me all about this beast on our way back to the truck,” he smiled to his son who beamed back, leaping over to him. Dean chuckled slightly as the smaller version of himself burst into conversation about top speeds and engine strokes, and the wide look in Deans’ eyes as he glanced up at me, finally understanding what I’d meant when I’d said they were so alike. And as Levi chatted animatedly to his dad as we walked, my heart swelled as I watched them.

I couldn’t seem to look away as I witnessed Dean gaze down at his son, looking like the proudest father in the world.

Next Chapter: Chapter 4

Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx @rox2008 @jeysbae @ladykitana90 @proudbisexual @ladysparkles78 @elenasalvatore1 @bxtchboy69 @saemiau @lilithlunastark @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @riah1606 @impala67rollingthroughtown @berryblues46 @aylacavebear @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[dovesndecay]

It's June! It's Pride! It's (my) Birthday!

The Introduction Spiel:

Hi, I'm Reyah! (any pronouns! no really, go for it!) On June 21st, I'm turning 32, an exciting and mysterious age to be!! (So I've heard)

Warning: This is a post asking for financial help, and if there's one thing I would ask is that if you read the whole thing: please reblog.

I'm a multiply-disabled queer person of color, a writer, artist, and photographer. I live with three of my best-good-pal-friends, (@renthony, @kryptidkhaos, and @natalieironside) and our collective army of pets.

We all know it's damned hard to be all these things at the same time under the capitalistic hellscape we're living under, and we/I am always in need of a lot of help with the existing.

I ended the month of May with some smaller bills left still to pay, but am thankful to say that June already had fewer bills than usual due, and the amount I need to start the summer off right is actually less than I was afraid it would be! Woohoo!

What I Make

I mentioned my artistic endeavors, let me show you them!!

Writing

I write less often than I'd like, but I share poetry and shorts, when I have them, on my Patreon!

You must be over 18 to pledge, as I have, can, and will again share Adult Content occasionally. Patrons pledging at least $1/month get access to all content. But most posts becomes free to access eventually. :)

When I do longer form content, I primarily write fantasy with a focus on queer brown characters with disabilities, mental illnesses, and disordered attachments. Because therapy is expensive, and writing is free.

Photography

I do wildlife and landscape photography, primarily, but you can also check out my portrait and event work on my website! You can purchase PRINTS HERE.

And because it's my birthday, I'm offering a 32% discount code for all my prints! The code is good from June 1st to July 1st!

A Note, if you purchase a print: first off: thank you. (please feel free to send a photo of wherever you display it!!!) secondly: this will not go towards the received totals on my financial need because Pixels doesn't pay out until nearly 2 months after the purchase. Funds made from sales will go towards future needs.

CODE: PDHHTR

Artwork

I've been exploring art, both analog and digital, a lot more lately, and have shared both process photos and final drafts on Patreon! Here are just a few examples:

I admittedly don't post on patreon as much as I wish I had the energy to, but I try to make at least one thing a month, provided I have the spoons and time.

Creativity is, like, a level 5 spell slot when you're disabled and impoverished, and I appear to have exactly One (1) of those available at any given time.

The Needs:

The Bills: $1,100

Yeah, we had to get here eventually. Since this post is already pretty long, I'm putting the rest under a cut.

More than half of this, as always, is just for the car payment and insurance that keeps the regular day-job-haver getting to said job, and all our medical appointments, errands, etc.

I still owe around $13,000 total on Johnny Car, but I think we all know that's just not a real number.

The rest of the funds would go toward paying the small subscriptions, for my various medications, and the regular attempts to whittle away slowly at the $4,300 worth of other debt.

($2,200 of back taxes, and $2,100 of credit card debt, and gods, do I mean slowly. Interest piles up so much faster than I can seem to whittle.)

If you're able and willing to help with paying the bills, direct donations can be made here:

PayPal | (link)

Venmo | (dovesndecay)

Cashapp | ($dovesndecay)

If you can, and only if you can.

The It Would Be Cools:

Since every dime that comes in goes primarily towards food and bills, there's little left afterward to be put towards other life necessities like clothes, toiletries, let alone things I just think would be nice/neat/nifty to have.

I have a High Priority wishlist. It's mostly art supplies, bulk toiletries, etc.

I'm woefully low on clothes, being short, fat, and trans, so very little of what I own actually feels good to wear so much as it simply covers my body. I have a wishlist of clothes that would be nice to have.

For everything that firmly lands under the "I just want it" category, I have an Enrichment list. It's mostly stuffies, but also games, room decor, hobby supplies, books, and stim toys.

Our household keeps a big wishlist for things we need, want, groceries, accessibility products, and everything in-between.

Okay, now what?

Well, now, I'm gonna ask that if you got to this point, and if you can't/don't want to do any of the things listed above, then please reblog this post.

The more people that reblog it, the more likely I'm able to pay my bills for one more month this year.

But if you don't, it's not like anyone's gonna know. I'm not omniscient, I swear.

Anyway, I don't expect anyone to do anything if you can't or even if you just don't wanna, but if you can and you're willing to, it means the world.

I didn't think this is where I'd be at 32. But I never really expected to get here at all in the end, and it's a lot nicer than I thought it would be. Mostly because I am surrounded by amazing people who have the capacity to be so much kinder than I will ever have the words to describe.

Thank you, and to all, a happy pride!

🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤

[theother-victoria]

been thinking of street racing with aventurine bc I imagine he’d like the thrill of it too…

tags: not proofread, I typed this out in tumblr drafts, some suggestive comments, flirting, gn reader, I don't know anything about street racing so pls forgive any inaccuracies, banter (they're so silly)

Aventurine, who pulls up to the race in an edgy and sleek sports car, drawing the attention of everyone else there- yours included.

You lean against the side of your car, watching him as he leaves opponent after opponent in the dust. He's skilled, you'll give him that. From the aggressive driving style and the make and model of the car, you're betting it's just some bored teenage boy with daddy's money to burn, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't at least a little bit curious about the person behind the wheel.

A few easy wins later that night and you're slated to race against him. He takes his sweet time pulling up to the finish line, but to your surprise, he rolls his window down for the first time that night and you're able to get a good look at him. He's no teenage boy but he has the same mischievous look that implies he's up to no good.

"Checking me out already?" he remarks, his (captivating) eyes twinkling in delight, although they're hidden behind his sunglasses. "And I thought I'd for sure be the one to make the first move."

Oh, so he's a flirt too. You can barely hear him over the loud purring of his expensive and modded car's engine and you know tonight's race will be a tight one.

"I see you've got money. What's a rich boy like you doing all the way out here?"

His grin widens.

"Ooh, you’re sharp. I like that and the way you talk.”

"Why don't you tell me who you are first?"

He laughs and shakes his head. He rolls up the window, much to your irritation, but not before saying one last thing and sending a wink your way.

"If you win, I'll tell you who I am. How does that sound?"

Damn. No other choice but to accept since the race is about to start.

You end up losing, but just barely. You had to push your car to its limits and he wasn't above playing dirty too, giving you a couple of close calls throughout. Although, he at least didn't endanger your life like some others have in the past, so you'll give him that.

After the race ends, you pull into a brightly-lit gas station with some people there. Shortly after, another car pulls up next to you and he steps out.

"Not bad, not bad," he says, clapping lightly. "It's not often that I find someone that can at least keep up with me, much less overtake me a couple times."

"So you were following me."

He raises his hands as a mock display of innocence.

"Hey, relax! Don't be so hostile! I just wanted to get to know you a bit better, that's all. Besides, you wanted to know who I am, right?"

You watch as he scribbles something onto a business card.

"Wasn't that only applicable if I won?"

"Eh, I've changed my mind now," he says, handing the card to you. "I don't make deals that don’t pay off and I'd consider it a loss if I didn't get at least your number tonight."

"You still didn't answer my original question. What's someone like you doing all the way out here? Surely you have more important matters to attend to, right?"

He laughs.

"Wow, you really don't know who I am, huh?"

"... What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ah, nothing. Just talking to myself. But to answer your question... I suppose it's because I enjoy the thrill of it. It's like gambling. Not knowing whether you'll win or lose, or even live or die. After all, the higher the stakes, the higher the excitement- why're you looking at me like that?"

"… You're insane."

"Sure, sure, sweetheart. I'll pretend that your reasons aren't the same as mine and that the adrenaline rush doesn't excite you every time. Why else would you willingly race, night after night?"

With one last wink, he gets into his car and drives away. You finally glance at the business card, only to do a double take and gape at it in shock when you realize its contents.

Aventurine, one of the IPC's Ten Stonehearts? No way... this guy's an IPC exec?

You don't know whether to feel proud about the fact that you got an IPC executive's number without trying or humiliated about the whole exchange...

There's a winking smiley face and an "call me xoxo" written next to the phone number.

And against your better judgement, you do just that.

He turns out to be an interesting companion. You'd think that with his demanding position, he'd be traveling all over the galaxy every day- which is true, to an extent, but he's always there for your weekly races and frequently drags you out shopping with him. He teaches you how to play poker and how to count your cards, if you didn't know how to already. He then tries to get you to play a round or two against him, which you promptly refuse each time.

("I spent all that time teaching you how to play and this is what I get in return? Boo, you're no fun. But a round or two never hurt anyone, right?"

"Aventurine, even a round or two is a surefire way to go into debt to you. Absolutely not."

He pouts and grumbles like a little kid every time.)

He also pays for additional mods to your car. When you try to refuse him, he merely brushes off your concerns.

"Sweetheart, I don't think you understand," he said back then. "I make more in a day than what it costs to mod your car. To me, this is nothing. Besides, I want an opponent who can keep up with me. If you start falling behind, well, then that's no fun for both of us, right?"

One night, there’s a particularly high-stakes race that you’re slated to compete in. The cash prize is one that’s too big for anyone to pass up.

Well, except for Aventurine. That amount of money is probably nothing by his standards.

For once, he’s not racing. When it’s your turn, he waves you over with a teasing smile as you’re getting ready.

“Say, how about raising the stakes for tonight?”

“What now?”

“Let’s make a bet.”

“… Fine.”

“If you win, we go on a date together. My treat, of course. If you lose, then you’ll have to play a round of poker with me.”

There isn’t an ounce of shame in his words. You openly gape at him as he beams at you proudly.

“… What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why though?”

He shrugs.

“Simple. I know this is a bet that will pay off. And I’ve been wanting this to happen for a long time now. So…”

He leans in close, lips teasingly brushing over your ear for a moment.

“Don’t disappoint me. I want to see you try and turn the tides in your favor for this race.”

You pull away from him.

“I accept, but only because I am not going into debt because of poker.”

He laughs.

“Go on then, sweetheart. I want to see you leave everyone behind in the dust. Oh, and don’t forget your good luck kiss!”

Aventurine blows a kiss to you. You roll your eyes as you climb into your car. Insufferable, that’s what he is. But if there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s reading people. Meaning he must’ve noticed that you wanted this too.

You roll your neck and focus on the road ahead. The race is about to begin.

That cash prize and date with Aventurine is yours.

[punksyeet]

- Under The Mistletoe ❥

Plot: Gianna (OC) and Josh spend Christmas Eve at a party, and end it with a night from their dreams.

Warning: Lots of flirting & light smut (mostly teasing)!

A/N: merry belated christmas to all who celebrate. i hope everyone had / is having a safe and happy holiday season. this one-shot is christmas themed, so please ignore how late it’s coming out. life kinda unexpectedly got in the way around the holidays. anywho, that’s all. i hope you guys enjoy this one! 🎄♥️

—————————————————————————————————

The faint sound of Chris Brown's "This Christmas" echoes through my bathroom as I apply one last layer of lip gloss in the mirror.

Tonight, for Christmas Eve, I was invited to a house party by my boyfriend Joshua.

It's taking place at his twin brother and sister in law's place down in Orlando.

I'm usually not the party type, but I'm super excited.

Reason being, Josh has been on the road with his job over at WWE a little extra lately, since they're doing a bunch of live shows as well as televised tapings.

In other words, if I didn't see him enough before the holidays, that man is an absolute ghost now.

I put my makeup away and fluff out my hair, making sure I'm satisfied with it, before leaving the bathroom to get dressed.

When picking out my outfit last night, I decided to go with something elegant yet super chic and flattering.

After all, I'm gonna be pulling up with the finest man in the world so I gotta look good!

I step into a red lace lingerie set, followed by a strapless, long sleeved, sheer cotton body-con red dress.

Just as I'm finishing up spraying some perfume, my doorbell rings.

I check myself in the mirror once more before heading down.

I take a deep breath and open the front door to a gorgeous sight: my man dressed in all black, alongside his gold chain and silver jewelry on his wrist and ears.

"Damn ma," he mutters, scanning my body and sexily licking his lips. "You look good as hell."

I playfully roll my eyes, my arms folded over my chest and body leaned against the doorframe.

"Hello to you too Joshua," I tease, smirking.

He chuckles and steps inside, sliding his hands across my waist. "My bad, mama. You caught me off guard in this dress though forreal."

"Well thank you," I reply, closing the door behind him and wrapping my arms around his neck. "You look handsome as always."

He smiles and leans in, pressing his lips to mine.

I automatically kiss back and give him a couple more pecks before pulling away and wiping my lip gloss off of his lips with my thumb.

"I missed you mama," he exclaims, sliding his hands down to my ass and giving it a tiny squeeze.

"I miss you too baby," I reply, rubbing his back. "Lemme just throw my heels on and we can head out."

I turn around and walk over to the shoe cubby near my basement door.

"What's the rush?" Josh asks, leaning against the wall. "The party don't start for another two hours."

I grab my shoes and sit on the couch, to begin putting them on.

"I told Trin I'd help her set up," I reply. "And besides, if we stay here, we both know we'll never make it in time."

He smirks and bats his eyelashes innocently. "I don't know what you mean."

I shake my head smiling, as he sits down next to me and grabs my face, attacking my cheek with kisses.

"Boy enough," I playfully scold between giggles, pushing him away.

He chuckles and smacks my ass as I get up. "Aight. But when I bring you back here later, that ass is mine."

"Yeah yeah," I brush him off, making a shooing motion with my hand. "Whatever you say."

He smirks and, hand in hand, we walk out and to his car.

"After you my lady," he coos, opening the passenger door and holding out his hand.

I smile and take it, intertwining our fingers.

"Thank you lovebug," I reply, kissing his cheek and stepping in.

He kisses my hand before letting it go and shutting my door.

Eventually, he hops in and we're off.

The car ride is filled with small talk, laughs, thigh rubs, and stolen kisses.

I missed this so much.

—————————————————————————————————

Hand in hand, Josh and I walk up the steps to the front door and ring the doorbell.

Trin and Jon's dogs, Marley and Tank, automatically start barking from behind the door.

"Giiiii!" Trin squeals, wrapping me into a tight hug once she opens the door.

I giggle and hug back, as she rocks us back and forth.

"Hi Trin!" I reply excitedly, once we pull away. "You look amazing."

"Me?!" she shrieks, holding her hand on her chest and scanning my body up and down. "Bitch, look at you! Look at this body!"

She hypes me up, snapping and getting low in front of me.

I flick my hair back sassily and we share a laugh.

"Hey hey," Josh butts in. "She's mine, sis. Get in line."

"Oh shut up!" Trin replies, playfully whacking him and wrapping me into another hug.

I laugh, hugging back and stick my tongue out at my man.

He glares in response, smirking.

After greeting Josh with a hug as well, she invites us in and shuts the door.

"Jurdy!" she calls, standing by the banister. "Hurry your ass up! Jey and Gi are here!"

"I'll get him," Josh announces, giving me a quick kiss and running upstairs.

I chuckle and head over to the island, where there's a butt load of decorations.

"You two are so cute," Trin coos, joining me and separating all the decor.

I lightly blush, smiling. "Thanks, sis. I couldn't be any more happy."

She sticks out her bottom lip. "It shows, girl. You're absolutely glowing!"

"No pun intended," she adds, nudging me.

We share a laugh and quick hug before getting started.

"You can start on the table," she orders, opening up a package of red and green helium balloons that spell out "MERRY CHRISTMAS". 

I give her a thumbs up, head over to the dining table, and immediately get to work.

I pick out some cute plates, wine glasses, and utensils from her kitchen, as well as some beautiful candle holders and trees that smell of fresh pine.

About ten minutes later, the entire living area is complete and filled to the brim with Christmas cheer.

Trin claps and squeals. "It looks amazing!"

I giggle and look around, smiling. "It really does."

She holds up both of her hands, facing me. "We did that!"

Chuckling, I accept her offer and we share double high fives.

As we're cleaning up excess wrappers, Jon and Josh appear near the stairs.

"Dang it looks nice in here," Jon compliments, looking around.

"Thanks boo," Trin says, walking over to him and kissing his cheek.

I smile and finish perfecting the table before they all join me in the kitchen.

"The table looks beautiful ma," Josh coos and kisses my temple.

"Forreal," Jon agrees, throwing an arm around me. "You did your thing, sis!"

"Aww thank you guys," I reply, smiling softly and side-hugging him.

A little while later, it's officially 6pm and guests start pouring in.

The guest list includes a bunch of family and family friends including: Jon and Josh's parents, Joe and Galina, Sefa and Almia, Dwayne and Lauren, Jade and Brandon, Bianca and Kenneth, Sarona, and more.

—————————————————————————————————

It's a couple hours into the party and, while the guys are out in the backyard having drinks and talking, us girls are in the living room gossiping.

"I'm gonna go grab a refill," I announce, getting up and grabbing my wine glass. "Anyone want anything?"

Everyone politely declines and goes back to their conversations once I walk away.

I head into the kitchen and grab an open bottle of Pinot Grigio from the counter, when I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist.

"Hey gorgeous girl," Josh greets me, nuzzling his face into my neck.

I smile softly and turn to face him, leaning against the counter.

"Hi love," I greet back, running my fingers through his curls. "You having fun with the guys?"

"Mhm," he hums in reply. "It's real nice to have everyone reunited, you know?"

I nod smiling, and adjust his collar.

"Whatchu doin' with the girls?" he asks, stroking my sides.

I shrug, wrapping my arms back around his neck. "Not much. Just talking, that's all."

"That's good baby," he replies, removing a curl from my face. "I'm happy you're having a good time."

I smile softly and nod. "I am."

He smiles, grabs either side of my face gently, and kisses my forehead.

I blush, brushing our noses together.

While I'm looking up at him, I catch a glimpse of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.

"Whatchu lookin' at b-" he stops in his tracks when he follows my eyes and looks up, a goofy smirk falling over his lips.

I giggle and hide my face in his chest.

He chuckles and taps my butt playfully. "Hey, hey. Don't get all shy on me now, girl. You know the rules."

He gently removes my head from his chest, cups my face, and pulls me in.

From the second our lips connect, butterflies are swarming in my stomach.

With every stroke, the kiss gets more and more heated.

Tongue.

Innocent touching.

The whole nine yards.

When we finally pull apart, he presses his forehead to mine, giving us both a chance to catch our breath.

"Come with me mama," he orders quietly, holding out his hand.

I nod, taking it. "Where are we going?"

He kisses my forehead and smirks. "Upstairs. Babygirl, I'm gonna give you a Christmas present you'll never forget."

My eyes go wide as he strokes my hand with his thumb. "B-but the party..."

"No one will notice we're gone ma," he reassures. All the guys are drunk off their asses anyway. Come kick it with your boy upstairs for a bit."

A soft smile appears on my face as he brings my hand to his lips and kisses it softly.

"I'll take that gorgeous smile as a yes," he continues, in between chuckles.

He leads us upstairs and into the guest bedroom.

** light smut warning! **

Once the door shuts behind us, our lips are connected once more, my back pressed up against the cool wooden surface.

The longer the kiss lasts, the more clothes come peeling off our bodies.

"So fucking beautiful," Josh coos, stroking my sides once I'm completely out of my dress.

I blush in reaction to the compliment and take control, grabbing his hand and leading us to the bed.

I order him to sit down and he does, looking up at me with those gorgeous brown eyes that I love so much.

They soon move lower onto my body as I give him a show, sexily removing my undergarments and straddling his lap.

Sliding my hands up his chest and slowly grinding against his now rock hard bulge, I lean down and connect our lips once more.

"Mmm fuck," he groans into my mouth, eventually shoving his tongue down my throat.

A few minutes later, we pull apart and switch positions.

"Lay back baby," he demands, his voice lustful and deep, just above a whisper. "It's gonna be a long night."

My breath hitches as he gently pushes me back and hovers over me, his cold chain ever so slightly caressing my breasts.

** light smut over! **

"I've missed you mama," he mutters into my neck. "Let me show you exactly how much."

And, boy, does he ever.

Liked by uceyjucey, jonathanfatu, trinity_fatu, thegalinaanoai, and 9.8k others

giannamacri coming to a tree near you 🎁♥️

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uceyjucey All mine 😍

trinity_fatu No words 🫦

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[starringthesturniolos]

bite me(part 5) matt sturniolo

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

summary: matt hates your guts but all of that changes when he wakes up and finds out your his mate.

contains: vampire!matt x reader, highschool au! (18 years old), dark themes, death, smut (not in this part)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

matts pov.

"okay, you guys should feel different any minute now" Madi says before giving me a look. a look that says what I am doing is stupid. judging by the sadness that's roaming in my chest, I'm guessing y/n thinks its stupid too. why does she care, its not like she likes me, I think to myself. but even as I think it, I can't help but cringe at the loss of emotions I would have from getting rid of the bond. sure, it was annoying sometimes, but hell, Iife gets a little boring when you've been living for so long. its easy to go numb and become desensitized, and that's what made y/n an anomaly. even before the mating bond, she made me feel things. even things I didn't want to feel like annoyance and anger.

I look over at her and I can't help but stare. she's so pretty, I think even as the bond fades into a dull nothing.

"quite staring, your freaking me out" she says looking at me. I can see the tears in her eyes, and ,even though the bonds gone, I know she wishes there weren't any. I knew her and I knew that she didn't like to feel like others had power to make her sad or upset. she never wanted to lose control. I can't help but note how much I know about her. more than I thought I knew.

I look away and grab her arm and sigh at the fact that there are no tingles or heat that flash through me this time. "I'll take you home, it's been a long night." and so from there we head back to the car. shit, I almost forgot about chris. I open my phone to call him, but I see a text notification from him instead. "I'm going to stay, the spell could take all night for me" it says. I can't help but wonder how someone can take away the pain of losing a mate, but shrug it off. if I knew I'd be a magic user, not a vampire. and I wouldn't be standing here awkwardly with a girl I hated two days ago. a girl I wish I could comfort, but don't know how too. we climb in the van and I turn on the car. the hiss of the ac and the quiet hum of the radio are the only sounds in the car. she opens her mouth and closes it again. "what? what is it?" i sigh because the tension is killing me.

"if the bond is gone then why am I still sad?" she says quietly. I note the fact that this is the most vulnerable I've ever seen her. she's always had a strong front, and always had something smart to say. but now in the quiet that is my van, I feel like I see her, the real her.

"I don't know why." I say honestly, but cringe at the monotone way I say it. like I didn't care to know why she was upset, and right then I knew her walls were going to come back up before they even do. she shrugs and wipes her face once. "can I play music then, I don't like moping around." she sighs, grounding herself again. "I know you don't" I say softly "and yes you can, as long as you don't have shit music taste" I smirk at the end. teasing her is so much easier and more natural then whatever we've been doing the past 15 minutes. "Oh it's amazing, you're gonna wanna add my songs to your playlist when I'm done. " she takes the mood change and runs with it. she even laughs and I don't even try to stop myself from admiring her smile.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I pull into her house and all the lights are on and there are clanging noises coming from the inside of her home. its damn near 5 am and no one should be up that early on a Sunday morning. we were just having a good time, surprisingly, listening to music with each other. we both like the same kind of music and even though I acted like I hated her singing I didn't mind. but she wasn't singing now, she actually looked really scared.

"my dads home" she whispers and looks at me with wide glossy eyes. worry flutters in my chest at the sight of her being afraid. this guy must be bad news. "he rarely ever comes home" she says in the same quiet tone her eyes widening even further before she turns to me. "I thought Madi said she put a protection spell on me." she runs her hands through her hair and her breathing is picking up. if she keeps this up, she's going to have a panic attack.

" she did, okay, so you have nothing to worry about!" the words sound all wrong coming out of my mouth. I meant for them to come out comforting but instead they sound a bit like I just want her to shut up and get out of my car. why do I always have to sound so mean.

her breathing picks up more and she's crying now. "you don't know what he's like, matt! you've never met the guy. he doesn't want anything to do with me! and when he comes home, he's always drunk" she pauses and closes her eyes gasping for breath. "and he's mean!" she sobs. before I can stop myself I grab her face and guide her gaze away from the house to me. if she hadn't told me this, I would have never known she'd been hurt this way. I couldn't help but wonder how many times she came home to find a nightmare in her house.

"you don't have to be with that guy" I say slowly and nod my head before continuing

"just stay with me" I whisper.

@bbernard-03

@sturnthepot

@hoeformatt

@sturtriple16

@faygo-frog

@sturniol0s

@katie-tibo

@cindylcuwho

[issdisgrace]

I'd love to request, jason x male reader, who has a prosthetic arm and leg, you can decide. And the reader meeting the Wayne family for the first time, and Bruce being a bit judgy. Maybe Bruce even asking Jason in Private if he's sure the reader is the right person

I hope you're comfortable writing this :)

YOU SURE ABOUT THIS

WARNINGS: None unless you count swearing.

A/N: Y/n just has a prosthetic arm. Also when i was writing i wrote this with Bucky Barnes in my mind.

I look over at Y/n as I park in front of the manor.

“Are you sure about this? We can go home and order takeout.”

“I can do this, Jason. I need to, they are your family.”

“You don’t need to do anything that you don’t feel comfortable with.”

“If I didn’t step out of my comfort zone, then I wouldn’t be here with you right now. So let’s get this show on the road.”

“Ok and remember we can leave at anytime.”

“I’ll be fine Jason and stop worrying so much, it will give you wrinkles.” Y/n days before giving me a quick kiss on the lips before getting out of the car. I sigh to myself before getting out as well. He’s right. He’s always right. Can’t he ever be wrong? I reach out for his hand and gently lead him up the steps of the manor. As I got to knock on the door, it opens and revealing Alfred.

“Master Jason and you must be Master Y/n pleasure to meet you. I’m Alfred Pennyworth, the butler. Please do come in.” Alfred says, stepping to the side to let us in. Walking in the warmth of the manor is comforting, like always, especially on cooler evenings like this.

“Pleasure to meet you to Alfred. I’ve heard a lot about you from Jason.” 

“All good, I hope,” Alfred says as he closes the door.

“Very much. I heard that you are an excellent cook.”

“And baker. He makes a mean snickerdoodle.” I add.

“You always know how to falter me, Master Jason. Anyway, your father and brothers are in the living room. I must get back to the kitchen to make sure nothing burned.”

“Alright, thanks Alfred.” I watch as Alfred walks down the hall and when he’s out of earshot, I ask.

“You good.” Y/n grabs my face with his hands.

“I’m good Jason.” He says before giving me a kiss.

“Ok.” I say as I pull away.

“Now, how about you introduce me to your family?”

“Alright, it’s just this way.” I say as I start to lead him towards the livingroom. I notice the way he looks around. It’s in admiration.

“This place is very beautiful.”

“I guess.” I say, leading them into the livingroom.

“Jason, my son. It’s good to see you,” Bruce says, getting up from his armchair.

“Good to see you too, old man. This is Y/n, Y/n this is Bruce.”

“Nice to meet you, Bruce.” Y/n says, reaching out to shake his hand. Bruce shakes his hand and I can see the way his eyes flicker to Y/n’s prosthetic arm. We take a seat on the empty couch and I silently pray to the gods he doesn’t say anything as my brothers introduce themselves. Of course, the last one is Tim.

“Tim and that a nice piece of metal you got there.” I try to contain myself, feeling the urge to strangle him.

“Yeah, a friend of mine made it for me shortly after I lost my arm. And I’ve been rocking with it sense then.”

“Cool, does it function?”

“It does see,” Y/n says, showing how the arm and hand can move around.

“Thats neat. How do that?”

“I have a plate built into my shoulder that my arm attaches too and that is hooked up to my brain and that’s how I control it.”

“Damn that pretty high tech.” Tim says.

“It is, Drake. May I ask how you lost your arm?” Damian asks surprisingly kindly. Hmm, that is weird. I look over at Y/n and take his hand, giving him a gently squeeze. 

“I lost it during my time as a P.O.W..”

“Thank you for your service.” Dick is quick to say with a smile. I sigh to myself, finally relaxing, Its was nice to see Dick

being Dick. I just hope short stack and Bruce don’t say anything insensitive. 

“It was my honor to serve.” Y/n days.

This whole thing definitely went better than I suspected. I smile to myself as watch as Dick practically pulls Y/n out of the dining room behind him, wanting to show him around the manor. Tim and Damian following behind them. As I go to join them, I feel a hand on my shoulder. I brush the hand off and turn around to look at Bruce. 

“I know this isn’t my place, but are you sure about them? Are you sure they’re the one?” He asks. When he asks that I see fucking red.

“Why? You think they're damaged goods because they lost one of their arms. Well listen here, old man, I love them and I will marry them one day. So keep your shit opinion to yourself and go fuck yourself.” I say making sure my anger was on full display. I then turn around and leave the dining room to go find where my brothers dragged my boyfriend off to.

EXTRA:

“Master Bruce, that was very out of line of you.”

“I just want to make sure he’s making the right decision.”

“He is an adult. He can make his own decisions and, remember don’t judge a book by its cover, Master Bruce. I raised you better.”

[heartfullofleeches]

Bullied yan x delinquent reader who beats up their bullies once (probably because they were in the readers spot or getting in their way) know bullied yan clings to the reader and treats them like a god and basically willingly becomes their slave and the reader just looks at them with disgust and slight concern.

Bullied yan: I’ll kill them all if you told me to

Delinquent reader: that’s fucking stupid- you’d be throwing your life your away by murdering someone or anyone for no reason other than “somebody told me too”, don’t waste your life like that

Bullied: Y-You care about my life

Delinquent reader: NO! Fuck off

[light violence, excessive language]

"Alright, idiots. Since you chucklefucks clearly forgot how things run around here while I was away - I'd say it's time for another lesson. Line up and spread 'em."

Trembling in fear, your fellow delinquents part their fingers wide as they place their hands palms down on the gravel - breathing quickened as your looming shadow towers over their battered forms. Whistling along, you step over their hands in a leisurely stride - twisting your heels into the backs of their hands and crushing their fingers raw. You stare down every one of your victims - drawing your foot back to plant it square in the chest of the bully who immediately retracts their hands at you step off their hand. Yanking them forward by the collar as they reel, you crack them hard upside their head as you his.

"Did I fucking say you could move, bitch? I should break every god damn bone in your body for the shit you've been pulling lately, but I'm not trying to get expelled. "

The bully covers their face, shrinking as you ball your fist. "W-we're sorry, Y/n. We thought you were going to be out for the rest of the week. Please don't hurt me.."

What's happening...? The bullies who made their few short weeks in town a living hell - cowering as if they were cut from the same cloth. How-

Thomas had never been the most liked by their peers. Nish interests and their weak frame made them a prime target for bullying. Their parents already had the car packed at the first sign of trouble and off to the next district to try again instead of taking the easy route and letting them in their high school years at home. They tried harder to fit in this time. Blended with the crowd, stuck to themself and their books. In such a short time their family had found stable jobs and made friends with their neighbors. They didn't want to take that away from them, even at the expense of their own happiness away well being.

The bullies here were a different breed. All it took was mistaking one of their bags as their own for everything to crumble around Thomas. The next day they found glass in their locker, accusing words etched into their desk. They were hounded for the money from their part-time job and beaten when they refused to comply. What made matters worse was there were rumors of someone worse than them on suspension after assaulting another student in the parking lot. This was hell, and if they had to deal with another bully they likely wouldn't survive. All they wanted was for someone - anyone to rescue them from this nightmare.

"I've told you time and time again that the bleachers are my territory. You dumbasses think you're sneaky, but you always leave cigarettes and other filth behind. I want you to clean your shit up - and get the fuck off my property."

You look back at Thomas like a beast to prey. "And I want you to return everything you stole from that guy. I let you off the hook easy one to many times. On second thought, gimme me that."

You tear the watch off leader's wrist and throw it at them as you walk pass. "Pawn it. Should be worth almost as much as they took."

Thomas misses the catch, scrambling to their feet to pick up the watch. "T....thank you?"

You scoff. "Don't thank me. Those morons never learn and needed an explanation of what happens when you mess with my shit. Stay away from me or you'll end up just like them."

You push past them as you walk off. Thomas would later come to find you were the student spoken of in rumors and the guy you nearly put in the hospital had tried to fight you the authority you never sought to claim. Many saw you as another target for your reserved nature until you put them in their place with your fist. You were almost alike in that regard. Challenged by peers for your differences. Unlike Thomas, you had the courage to hold your ground and knock someone down if needed. It was aw inspiring. It was enchanting. Maybe you were more alike than they'd originally thought. Thomas had always longed for companionship and maybe deep down you wanted the same. Partners in this cruel, fucked up world.

The next day, Thomas waits outside for you to show. You arrive almost thirty minutes late making it the first day they've ever been late for class, but they were fully prepared to shed their old self to make room for whatever you wanted them to be. They run up to you, digging through their bag as they call out.

"Ah - Y/n! Wait!"

You turn, annoyance clear as day. "Yea?..."

Thomas laughs, oddly giddy at the aggression in your tone. "So that is your name... I, uh - have a present for you. My mom goes hunting in the fall and really wants me to come with her. She gave me this as an early gift and I thought you'd be better with it."

Raising a brow, your curiosity plummets as the sheath of the item Thomas drew comes into view. A hunting knife, roughly sixteen inches in length and engraved with their initials. It felt almost romantic to give something with their name to you. Your eyes shoot around the open hall; shoving their hands and the knife back into their bag as your voice drops to a venom posed whisper.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Thomas giggles hysterically. They never wanted to wash their hands again. "Y-you're touching me...."

"Why did you bring that here? Are you trying to get us both kicked out or arrested?"

"I-I just wanted to give you something to help you out if you get into trouble again. You said it yourself that they never learn. There's no better lesson than slitting someone's throat, right? If you're worried about getting caught you don't have to be. I'll take care of everything - and even if we do get caught I'll take the blame."

You let them go, wiping your hands on your shirt as your face scrunched in disgust. "You're stupider than you look. Stay the fuck away from me freak - and don't throw your life away over dumb shit like someone knocking you around.

Thomas sighs as you storm off. They feel as though they should be upset, but even in threat it almost sounds like you're just looking out for them in your own, special way. This move really had been a change - for the better.

[astrronomemes]

THAT '70S SHOW: STARTERS

a collection of my personal favorite quotes, phrases, and sayings from the 1998-2006 television sitcom, That '70s Show. change & alter as needed.

"Well, damn, [name], I can't control the weather!"

"If I could run across a beach into my own arms, I would."

"Yelling is the only part of being a father that I enjoy."

"What did you eat for breakfast? Carnation Instant Bitch?"

"Why do you think the Martians won't land here? Because they're green, and they know people are going to make fun of them."

"It's every little girl's dream to get married out of spite!"

"We keep our Christmas decorations down there! Baby Jesus was watching!"

"If this van's a-rockin'... we're in there, doing it."

"Well, I'd like to help, but not as much as I'd like not to."

"Anyone else feel like a rainbow?"

"My heart aches with pain. When I see you, I vomit. Die away from me."

"The beautiful cannot be held responsible for the havoc our looks create."

"My foot is shaking, it wants to kick his ass so bad!"

"Just once, I want the right thing and the topless thing to be the same thing!"

"If you don't get caught, everything is legal."

"I am not drunk! I am upset! ...And drunk."

"Where Zen ends, ass-kicking begins."

"Life is too short to spend it with people who annoy you."

"I'm a hot-looking, smooth-talking, frisky-ass son of a bitch."

"[Name], get in the car. We're going on a freaking date."

"When I go to the hospital, I like to not die."

"Crack a book, you lazy son of a bitch."

"If you really do love her, there's only one thing to do, man. You got to dump her, and live free."

"I'm going to go out, meet some boys, and crush their hearts one by one."

"I'm like ketchup. I go good on everything."

"I was never happy. I was just less pissed off."

"So that's what an adulteress is! I always thought it was a tiny adult."

"For your information, I'm already sorry I was ever born."

"What are you gonna put on your résumé? Dumbass?"

"I'd get up, but my back is still sore from that knife you stuck in it."

"I don't want to go outside! There are people out there!"

"I cannot be held responsible for the things that come out of my mouth!"

"Oh, no. Now I have to act normal."

"You can hit him in the groin with a banjo."

"Well, I've got to go to sleep, because I have a big day of misery ahead of me tomorrow."

"I don't need another friend. I've already got two."

"Seeing you work hard and take pride in what you do... I lost respect for you, man."

"I wanted to get you a card, but they don't have one for our specific situation. So, here — happy first communion."

"I could kill you without making a sound."

"I can't go outside. I'm allergic to pollen. And social situations."

[choke-me-joey]

Eddie Munson x fem metalhead cheerleader

Summary: Based on this - how Eddie met his not so typical cheerleader girlfriend and a little exploration of their relationship.

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, smoking, underage drinking, drug use, swearing, flirting, smut.

AN: there is a scene in this based on a ✨️video✨️ i had sent to me by a beautiful anon and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. If you want the link you can find it on my page or message me and I'll try to send it!

📢 TAG LIST IS NOW FULL 📢

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

Chapter 4

The following Tuesday, after practice and your homework, you'd driven over to The Hideout to see the famous Corroded Coffin play to their crowd of regular drunks. You parked your car in the lot, getting out and straightening out your cropped Iron Maiden shirt. You'd paired it with some shorts and fishnets, as well as your Docs and your jacket which, courtesy of Eddie, now had a WASP pin resting proudly on the lapel.

You made your way into the, quite honestly, dump of a bar, impressed that you didn't even need a fake ID to get in. You grinned when you saw Corroded Coffin setting up on the small stage and made a beeline for your friends and your....Eddie.

"What's up, rockstars?" You smile, giving Eddie a cheeky pinch to the butt as he was bent over with his back to you sorting out his peddle. He angled his head to look at you, and nearly keeled over at the sight of your outfit. He recovered, standing up to hug you.

"Now this just isn't fair, sweetheart, gonna be playing our set with a fucking boner," he groans into you ear, making you giggle. He subtly kissed your head.

"Holy shit you actually came!" Gareth said, grinning at you from behind his drum kit. "Eddie said you might not make it because of practice."

"Like I'd miss the infamous Corroded Coffin live in concert," you gesture to the homemade banner behind them. "I'm excited!"

"You're probably the only one in the audience who is," Jeff laughs, glancing over the few people who had come to the bar to watch them play.

"Well, just remember who your biggest fan was in the early days, yeah?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Eddie winks at you and you have to wrestle down the urge to kiss him, not knowing how he felt about your...whatever this was between you being made super public yet. You instead settle on shooting him a wink and going to get yourself a drink whilst they finished setting up, patiently waiting for their set to start.

You were surprised when the bartender handed you a beer, apparently Eddie had sorted you with a drink before you'd gotten there, and again that meant nobody was checking your ID. You said nothing, taking your beer and sitting at a table close to the stage where you had a good view and Eddie could definitely see you.

The band start their set and you're completely blown away. Not only are they actually pretty damn good, the way Eddie carries himself on stage is incredible. He's confident, charismatic, nothing new there, but he eludes this sexy rockstar attitude that makes your pussy clench as you watch him. He plays with an energy that should be for 80,000 people not just 0.01% of that.

You watch his skilled fingers running up and down the frets, effortlessly playing chords without even glancing down. And when he sang, god your heart skipped a beat. His voice was the perfect mix of soft melodic singing and raw yells and shouts. They played a mix of covers and their own songs, their musical influences clear in those original pieces. Your favourite so far had been their rendition of Paranoid by Black Sabbath, and a song called Shallow Grave of their own. You had screamed and shouted and applauded, probably too enthusiastically really, but you didn't care. They were good, and Eddie was hot.

As the notes of another original song, Strangers in the Dark, came to an end, Eddie spoke into the microphone.

"We're going to change things up a little bit now folks, with a new cover dedicated to a very special person who happens to be our number one fan. This one's for you, airhead." He shot you a smirk and you grinned back at him, your cheeks flushing. "Sing along if you know it, maybe even dance a little if you're drunk enough."

The opening notes of Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks, but with a Corroded Coffin touch, began to play and your jaw dropped. You fucking loved this song, and your mind and heart race when you remember you had told Eddie that, probably about 3 weeks ago when you'd first started speaking properly, only mentioned it briefly when he'd seen the tape of Bella Donna sticking out of your bag.

He'd...learnt this, for you? Made his band learn this for you without even knowing if you'd ever come to one of his shows?

It's a good thing you were sat down because your knees felt stupidly weak.

"Just like the white wing dove, sings a song sounds like she's singing, ooh, ooh, ooh," Eddie croons; his voice could have brought tears to your eyes. He wasn't playing guitar for this, cupping the mic in his hands in a way that should have been illegal.

You sit in your seat, singing along, watching as a few drunks get up to dance, mostly middle aged women who look as if Stevie Nicks is their lord and saviour.

"Come on honey, your boyfriend is singing this for you! You gotta dance!" One of the Stevie-ites grabs your hand and tries to pull you up to dance.

"Oh, I cant-" you start, feeling a little embarassed. Ridiculous really, seeing as you were in front of two entire high schools nearly every week dancing and cartwheeling and splitting. Why the fuck was dancing in front of Eddie making you shy?!

You catch Eddie's eye as you're dragged onto the small dance area in front of the stage, the woman lets go of your hand to do her own Stevie style twirl, and you laugh, doing the same when she encourages you to do so. You glance up at Eddie and he grins back at you, still singing away as he pulls you up onto the small stage, twirling you around. You stay next to him, wrapped in his arms as the band finishes the song. When the last note plays, Eddie grabs you and you kisses you hard on the lips and you wrap your arms around his neck, the small crowd whooping and cat calling as you break apart, both of you panting and grinning like fools.

"You're amazing," Eddie says breathlessly, looking into your eyes.

"Me?! I'm not the one who just turned Stevie Nicks into a bad ass metal anthem! You gotta record that, you...you're incredible!" You pant, your face starting to hurt with how much you're smiling. You run one finger down his chest whilst looking up at him through your lashes. "How much longer is the set, rock star?"

Eddie swallows hard.

"Uh, th-three songs."

"Perfect, I'll be waiting by your van when you've packed up." You shoot him a sexy smirk, pecking his lips once more and hopping off the stage to watch the rest of the set.

*

True to your words you were waiting, leant up against the side of Eddie's van as he finished loading up his equipment.

"So, I've been thinking, that bed you've got in there?" You gesture to the back of the van. "Super fucking comfortable, perfect for laying down after a successful show, don't you think?"

"While every fibre of my being is going to hate me for saying this, Y/N-"

"Who said anything about sex?" You cut him off and he looks at you, confusion etched on his face. "Just wanna show you how appreciative I am that you learned a song for me, very cute by the way."

"Well, I have been known to be pretty cute," Eddie grins, letting you pull him into the back of the van, kicking the door shut. He grunts, letting out a breathless laugh as you push him onto his back and straddle him, pushing his shirt up his stomach. "Hey, you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to, right?"

"What about if I want to?" You smile, rocking your hips experimentally against him. Eddie groans, fingers biting into your hips. You lean down and kiss him, tongue immediately finding his. Eddie's hands travel from your hips to your ass, squeezing it softly at first, then harder as your kisses grows deeper and more desperate. You pull away from the kiss, sitting back on your heels and your hands hover over his belt buckle. "Can I?"

"Yeah, yes, shit, you can do anything you want to me right now, sweetheart." Eddie groans as you undo his belt, your hand ghosting over the bulge in his jeans. Once his jeans are also undone, he helps you by lifting his hips so you can pull his jeans and boxers down to his mid thigh. You can't help the gasp that leaves your mouth as his cock springs free, slapping his lower stomach.

"Holy...what the fuck, Eddie?!" You laugh, unable to process what you're seeing. He's big. And not just big, but thick too. Uncut, with a delicious thick vein running along the underside of his cock. His balls are - is it weird to say perfect?- big and round and your mouth salivates at the sight. Would you even be able to wrap your hand around him? Swallow him down? Would your cunt stretch enough to accommodate him? Your brain buzzed with arousal.

"Not really something I go around showing off," Eddie chuckles, hissing as you attempt to wrap your hand around him, slowly stroking him. You pull back his foreskin to expose the head of his cock, the same beautiful shade of reddy purple as his lips, and you watch in fascination as a small bead of precum blurts out and over your fingers. "Shit, Y/N, your hand feels so fucking good."

"I haven't even done anything yet," you giggle, moving a tiny bit faster, your other hand gently cupping his balls. You make sure he's looking at you before you let a glob of spit fall from your mouth onto the head of his cock, using it to lube his shaft for your hand to glide easier along it. Eddie fucking whimpers, whimpers, at that, his head dropping back onto the pillow beneath him.

"Fuck, babe, you're fucking...you're a dream."

"A wet one, I hope?"

"You're...everything. God the amount of times I've thought about this, about you...Jesus, how are you fucking real?" Eddie sighs as you work your hand over his cock faster, the mix of your spit and his precum making it easier. "Can I...fuck, can you take your shirt off? And...and put my jacket on?"

He prayed silently that you'd agree, it was all he'd been able to think about for about 3 weeks. You smile, nodding, taking off your shirt. Eddie almost blows his load there and then. Not only were you braless, but you also had your fucking nipples pierced, the two silver bars winking at him in the dim lights streaming in from the car park. You send him a knowing smirk briefly letting go of his cock to grab his previously discarded jacket and slip your arms into it, the leather cool and somewhat a little sticky against your damp skin.

"How do I look?" Your voice is low and sultry, laced with arousal. The throb between your legs is almost unbearable now, and you grind your crotch against his leg for some relief.

"Like every wet dream I've had since I was 13," Eddie groans as you spit on his cock again. "Shit, never thought you'd be so..."

"So what?" You challenge with a smirk, one eyebrow cocked as you continue to jerk him off.

"Jesus, so fucking...filthy." Eddie gasps as you run your other thumb over the slit of his cock, gathering some precum on the digit and sucking it into your mouth. You exaggerate a moan, this was purely for him right now but he did taste really fucking good. "Shit, gonna cum soon, don't stop baby."

"Not going to Eds, want you to make a mess all over me." You push the jacket off of your tits so he can clearly see them. Your free hand pinches one of your nipples, making you moan and grind down onto him again, a whimper leaving your mouth.

"Jesus fuck!" Eddie grunts, his cock twitching in your hand as he cums, streaking your tits, stomach and a little bit of his own jacket with thick white ropes. You stroke him through it, letting go of his thick cock when he starts to hiss in discomfort. "Fuck, princess, easy, easy," he lets a breathless laugh as you scoop up some of his cum off your tits with your finger, popping it into your mouth and sucking it off. "Jesus H Christ."

"I prefer Y/N." You grin, letting out a squeal as Eddie pins you down onto the floor of the van, kissing you hard. His hand wanders to the button of your shorts. "Hey, don't worry about me, handsome. This was all for you."

"You sure? I want to." Eddie's eyes flick to yours and you smile.

"I know, and believe me I really want you to but I have to get home, school night and all that." You sigh and Eddie groans, dropping his head to your shoulder. "My fingers will just have to do tonight."

Eddie groans even louder.

"Shit, Y/N, that isn't fair."

"Relax, Eds, my parents are away this weekend, so I'll have that big, empty house all to myself. You wanna come over and protect poor little old me?" You put on a fake pout. Eddie smirks.

"And by protect you mean-"

"Fuck my brains out until I can't fucking walk and make me scream so loud the neighbours will know your name? Yeah, that's what I meant." You giggle, pecking his lips softly.

"Oh, I'll be there baby, I'll protect you so hard, don't you worry."

Taglist:

@big-ope-vibes

@50shadesofuncomfortable

@bibieddiesgf

@josephquinngirly

@mich-13

@wintersoldierbaby

@gracieluvthemoon

@lilmisssimp

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@chaoticgood-munson

@quinnypixie

@joesquinns

@quinnsbower

@ghostinthebackofyourhead

@joejoequinnquinn

@ches-86

@mystars123

@micheledawn1975

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@emxxblog

@bakugouswh0r3

@bellamy1998

@dylanmunson

@avalon-wolf

@pastelorangeskies

@letme-simp

@them-cute-boys

@beeblisss

@aol19

@sadbitchfangirl

@spacedoutdaydreamer

@0o-venus-o0

@bexreadstoomuch

@l0st-f1ow3rs

@kaitebugg03

@yeehawbitchs

@latebread

@steveharringtonisbae

@alexa-33

@shotgunhallelujah

@coffeeaddictednymph

@angelsarecallin

@eddiessweetheart86

@daysinthephoenix

@squishyturtle

[the-froschamethyst4]

Proposal

𖤐Pairing: Alex x F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, kissing, hints of smut, language, talks of marriage, the 'L' word,

𖤐Summary: Alex has seen his friends get married, have kids etc., him and his girlfriend Y/n are new to the relationship but Alex is very impatient and wants to marry Y/n ASAP

————

————

Alex sat in the mess-hall looking at his friends all talk about their wives and kids. Price was showing Soap and Ghost a picture of his baby girl with her foot in her mouth, after getting out of her bath.

"She's so cute," Soap says, taking the phone.

"How'd you manage that, Price?" Ghost asked.

"Oh you know, genetics," Price says, leaning back and bucking his hips up a little bit.

Alex then looks at Alejandro and König, exchanging wedding photos. Alex was in a relationship with his girlfriend Y/n for 6 months, still new into the relationship but Alex wants to marry her, so BADLY but Y/n has admitted not being ready for marriage just yet.

Alex gets up from his spot at the bench and starts to head back to his post.

"Hey, Alex, where you going?" Price calls.

"I have to get back to my post," he says.

Alex opened the door of the mess hall and leaned against the brick wall gun at his side and pulling his phone out. He looks at his lockscreen for a few seconds, it was a picture of Y/n in a sundress and they had their first date in a field of wildflower which Alex figured his was allergic to wild flowers.

He stares at her before opening his phone.

Alex: Hey I may head to the store before I come home, do you need anything?

Love: Maybe coffee creamer, eggs, bread, milk, and dish soap

Alex: Weird combo

Love: I was gonna go today, but I was caught up in work

Alex: I understand, I'll get you them

Love: Thank you

"Y/N I NEED THOSE FILES ON MY DESK AS-FUCKING-P!!"

"What a fucking jerk, Y/n I don't understand how you've been here for 5 years and have to put up with him."

Y/n works for a large corporation and was the assistant to the CEO, she wasn't always an assistant, he calls it his 'promotion' to her from being an employee to the finance department.

"I don't know either...I think I'm just use to it," she says.

"Anyways...how are you and Alex?"

"We're good."

"6 months right?"

"Yep...7 in a few days," Y/n smiles as she's typing on the keyboard.

"Do you...plan on getting married anytime soon?"

"I mean, I'd like to get married but I feel like we're still new into the relationship-"

"You two already live together, you both co-signed on somethings right? I think you two are already for marriage."

"But it's been 6 months, going on 7, I think we still need more time..." Y/n says, turning to her printer and grabbing papers off her printer and placing them in a labeled folder, she gets up from her chair and walks to her bosses office.

She knocks and hears a deep voice telling her to 'come in'. She opens the door and placed the file in a black tray and walked out.

"It's about damn time," he says, Y/n rolled her eyes as her back was turned to him.

She shuts the door behind her and mumbles. "Asshole."

--------

Alex takes his gear off as he enters his car, starting it up and heading to the store but he had to make a little pit stop at the jewelry store.

He cleans himself up and opened the doors to the store, he looks around to find a free consultant.

"Hi," he says.

"Oh hello sir, what can I help you with?"

"I was here a few days ago, I think her name was Amy, she helped me pick a ring out and sized it, I'm here to pick it up."

"Okay, what's your name?"

"Alex Keller." He says.

"Okay, give me a few seconds," she says, walking away to the back. Alex looked at the display case seeing some necklaces, one caught his eye, it was was of two hearts interlocked together. one was silver and the other had light pink diamonds.

"Alex Keller here you go."

"Thank you, could I also see that necklace with the two hearts."

"Yes, of course." She puts on some silk white gloves and pulled the necklace out. "This is part of our Valentines Day collection, so it's fairly new," she says.

"Could I get that?"

"Of course," she pulls out a black velvet case and sets the necklace inside. "With the necklace and the sized ring, your cost is $400,000."

"Here you go, thank you."

"Any time," she says.

Alex walked out of the store looking in the small black bag pulling out the ring and looked at it. It's perfect, it's something Y/n has been talking about for years, her dream ring and he was able to find a store that sells it.

It looked like something from a fantasy. It was gorgeous and he knows Y/n will love it. He placed the small bag in his passenger seat and placed his vest over it so it doesn't fall into his floorboard.

--------

Going home Alex felt nervous, scared even, he carried in the grocery bags along with the small bag of jewelry. He sets the bags on the marble counter and started to hide the jewelry in his underwear drawer, but kept the necklace out to give to her once she comes home.

Alex started to place the food in their correct places and at this point just waited for Y/n to come home.

He changed from his gear to some comfortable clothes.

After a while Y/n came home, kicking her heels off at the front door and then looked up seeing her boyfriend waiting for her before she made it passed the mud room.

She walks up to him with a smile on her face and stood on her tippy toes, kissing his lips and then was immediately picked up. Her legs wrap around his waist and her arms around his neck.

"How was work?" He asked.

"Don't get me started," she whines, putting her head back annoyed and Alex chuckled at her, kissing her neck.

He walks to the couch sitting down with Y/n now on his lap. She moves her hair off her left side of her neck and looks at Alex.

"I got you something," he says.

"What?" She was confused.

She let's him up and he heads to the master bedroom and soon came back with the black velvet box and handed it to Y/n.

"Alex-"

"Just open it, angel," he says, sitting next to her and she opens and saw the gorgeous heart necklace.

"Alex," he just smiles taking the necklace and Y/n turns letting him put it on her neck.

"Do you like it?"

"Love it," she says, turning back to him and kissing him. "But why?"

"Because I love you," he says.

"I love you too, but...do you want something?" She asked.

"No, because you are all I need," he says, bring her back to his lap.

Alex was now just peppering kisses all on Y/n's neck, shoulder, chest and temples. Y/n smiled as he was showing her so much love than usual.

"Alex?" He placed his chin on her chest looking up at her.

"Hm?"

"You want something," she knows he wants to talk about something but just doesn't know what. "What is it?" She asks again, rubbing her fingers through his hair.

"Okay...I think we are ready for marriage."

"Alex-"

"I know, what you're going to say, we're not ready, we're still new, let's wait a little bit more. I understand...but Y/n I love you, I love you so much that I think we are ready." He then gets off the couch and heads back to the master bedroom.

He comes back with his right hand behind his back, and then getting on one knee.

"Y/n...you make me so happy, I know it's only been almost 7 months of being together, but seeing you everyday, coming home to someone like you, I want you in my life, and I know we'll have our arguments but I think we can make it work. I love you...will you marry me?" He opens the box and Y/n saw her dream ring.

Y/n felt like she was caught off-guard. But she also felt like she was expecting it in a way. Y/n grabs Alex's face kissing his lips and kissing his forehead and looking into his eyes.

"Yes...I will..." she says.

-------

A Year Later

Alex and Y/n were sitting at the bride and grooms table as their family and friends were giving their speeches. Well, Alex's friends were giving embarrassing stories about Alex, he was only embarrassed as Y/n laughed at her husbands friends funny stories.

"I remember in college, Alex had a high drinking tolerance, but after 5 drinks of Jack Daniels he was knocked on his ass," some laughed as Alex hid his face. Y/n grabbed his face and kissed his lips.

Y/n and Alex were happy, smiling at each other the whole night and kissing each other whenever they can.

Y/n was pulled away by her friends and they did a few photos, Alex watched from afar at his beautiful wife.

"Alex, my guy," Soap says, placing his arm over Alex's shoulder.

"You did it," Price says, rubbing Alex's hair and messing it up a little bit.

"I did...I'm married to my love," Alex looks at Y/n like she is the last thing on earth.

They were both happy, even if they only date for 7 months, it was worth it all and they are both so happy.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest April warm-up round.

Who Will Buy My Memories?

Prompt: Taxed | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Eddie Munson Lives, Established Relationship, Welcome to the 90s, Fluff, Corroded Coffin on the Road

"What do you mean, I owe back taxes?" Eddie asks, pressing the receiver of the payphone closer to his ear. As if that'll make him hear Steve differently.

"The letter says you didn't pay them. They're overdue, from, like, three years ago," Steve says, and Eddie's sure that's not right. He doesn't want to pay taxes, but they do. He pays under protest. Not, like, legally. But in his heart. Point is, he pays. Jeff makes sure they all do. For sure. Surely, Eddie's hasn't slipped through the cracks. Even if Jeff missed it, Steve would have caught it when he did their personal taxes. 

"Did you call them and ask?" Eddie asks.

"Call who?" Steve questions, and Eddie can picture Steve's face scrunched up. Can hear it, somehow. He really misses him.

"The IRS."

Steve lets out an exasperated sigh, "No. I didn't call the IRS for you. For one, why would I know what your tax fuck-up entails?"

"You do our personal taxes!" Eddie interrupts, but Steve keeps talking, ignoring him

"And two? It says right in the letter that for someone else to call, you'd have to submit, like, a signed statement. Granting permission to discuss it with a third party. It's the law, Eddie."

"I'll do it. I'll do it right now," Eddie says. 

"I'm sure you would," Steve laughs, "Is Jeff there? Or Goodie? Hell, Gareth? Somebody else that might know more?"

Eddie presses the speaker into his chest, and screams across the parking lot, just as Goodie's walking back to the van, arms full of snacks and a precariously teetering six-pack of beer. 

Goodie drops the stuff on the seat, then turns and puts his hands up, in a what the fuck question, and Eddie just waves him over, frantically. He can't shout across the parking lot about this.

Luckily, Goodie starts to saunter over, but he damn well doesn't get in a hurry about it, and as soon as he's within range, Eddie shoves the phone at him, not even telling him who's on the other end.

"Steve," Goodie says, and Eddie grins, of course Goodie knew who it was without having to ask.

And then Eddie watches as Goodie listens, nodding along. Eddie has shoved his thumb in his mouth, and is biting at his nail, nervous. 

Finally, fucking finally, Goodie speaks, "Jeff filed them. I'll have him call the accountant."

And that's it. No concern about Eddie for sure getting sent to prison for tax evasion. Nothing. 

Then, he's handing the phone back, and walking away, like he has no worries over Eddie's financial well-being.

"Well?" Eddie asks, like maybe Goodie told Steve something he didn't hear first-hand. 

"Jeff filed them," Steve repeats. 

"I'm going to prison. I always knew I'd end up there, I just didn't think it'd be for something as fucking lame as not paying my taxes. I was accused of murder, if you haven't forgotten. I sold drugs. I stole an RV, once-"

"Technically, I think I stole an RV," Steve counters.

"Please, like you could hotwire a car."

"I could now. I watched you do it."

And Eddie grins, because the banter is soothing, normal. He just misses Steve a whole fucking lot while they're on the road.

Steve keeps talking.

"Taxes will get ya. Every damn time. Just ask Al Capone," Steve says drolly, not taking this situation seriously at all. 

"Steve…"

"Oh, wait," Steve says pausing, suddenly serious, and Eddie freezes, "it says right here in the fine print that they're giving you the Willie Nelson treatment. Seizing it all. The furniture. Even your guitar. Selling it all off."

"That's not funny," Eddie says, but Steve sure is laughing.

"It's a little funny," Steve says.

"It's not. Who will buy my memories, Steve? Who?" Eddie asks, and Steve's laughing in his ear, but it's not funny. So, Eddie keeps talking, "And you're wrong. They didn't get Trigger. His guitar. I read it in the paper, and if you love me, you'll hide Sweetheart if they come to the house."

"Sweetheart is with you," Steve says. 

Okay, that's true.

"Well. Fine. But the thought still stands."

"Okay, I'll hide the best of your loot, and after that, I'll expect to see you on an infomercial, shilling an album to pay off this alleged debt."

"That wouldn't be very metal, shilling my art between Jack Lalanne and Ron Popeil."

"Then pay your taxes in full and on time," Steve snarks.

"I did!" Eddie argues. He's sure he did. 

"Does it say how much I'm on the hook for?" Eddie asks. It can't be that much, because while they're doing pretty good right now, they're not, like, rolling in the cash. Not yet. They're still traveling by van. A nicer van, sure, but still a van. 

"It doesn't," Steve says, but then his voice goes soft and kind again, "It'll be fine," he promises, "It's probably a small error. No big deal. Just. Don't ignore it. Okay? I'm officially putting this in the 'actually pay attention to' pile."

"I will. We will," Eddie promises. 

"Good. Now, tell me about South Bend," Steve teases, and Eddie looks around. Steve always asks, and Eddie always tells him something mundane, something true.

"Well. I miss you," Eddie says. "And someone drew a dick on the glass of the phone booth," Eddie offers.

"Is it a good dick?" Steve questions. 

"Not really," Eddie admits, "not as good as yours."

"Oh, the charm," Steve says dryly, and Eddie leans his head against the glass, against the Sharpie'd-on aforementioned dick. They only have tonight's show here in South Bend, and then another two days from now in Fort Wayne, and then they'll be home for a whole month. He can't fucking wait.

"Anything else of note? Besides the dick?" Steve asks.

"Well, it's in this state called Indiana. I'm not sure if you've ever been…" Eddie trails off. 

"Sounds familiar," Steve flirts and Eddie smiles.

They're almost home. Just a few more days.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

The title is a play on Willie Nelson's actual album he made to pay off his IRS debt: The IRS Tapes: Who'll Buy My Memories?

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Subbing (ha!) via ask so I can be anon

I would give my firstborn for you to write just about any M/F especially if it was another CE/Reader like "You Heard the Rumour about these Legs."

Honestly I will read and adore anything you write but that is one of my absolute all time fics and I'd go absolutely feral for more like it

"You Heard The Rumors 'Bout These Legs, Well I'm The One Who Spread 'Em"

Lmao, good to know 👀 Though I promise I don't need your firstborn 💀💀 and thank you, I'm so glad you enjoy my writing! 😘

So, of course, taking inspiration from your ask and the man, the myth, the legend himself--

Chris Evans × female!reader with tonguing, fingering, fucking, and jerking off. All that fun shit 😏

Chris is many things to many people. To you, though, Chris has always been a gentleman in and out of the proverbial bedroom (or the very literal bedroom, kitchen, living room, or car, or... y'know it doesn't matter where, just that you're alone and willing. And how could you not be willing when he looks and acts like that, anything he wants with you, he can have. You shiver just thinking about it). Chris always starts as a gentleman, at least.

As foreplay melts into something hotter and thicker, totally irrestable as the lust between you burned and crackled, Chris is still polite and kind and even serving toward you, yet...

Once he's spent some good time lavishing attention on you, pulling an orgasm or a few from you as if you're a marionette on strings that he's mastered and he can make fold and sing however he pleases, some of that polite nature melts away. It's not that he's rude. It's simply primal--and it's so goddamn sexy. You can hardly take it, your thighs pressing together, flexing, trying to make sense of the sticky, hot wash of arousal that always comes crashing over you. Because, damn, as much as you ache when he takes care to make sure your filled with lust and sparks, walking you closer and closer and closer to the edge with each touch, making you cum and then making you cum again, it's worse, better, when his patience is worn down, thinned, and he gets swept up in the pulsing, persuasive current of his arousal. The sensation buzzes underneath his skin like a live wire that demands his attention. He loses himself to it. So, suddenly, there's no room to think about giving you, and you alone, more and more. He has to take something for himself.

You want him to take it all.

Take you.

Have you.

Fuck you.

You've had enough. You don't need more when he gets like that; you could subsist off of the second-hand pleasure from him.

Christ.

It makes you feel sinful and powerful, the way he takes his pleasure from you. How he reacts to you. How he can't have enough of you. You're just too damn much for him to stand in the most erotic way.

Yeah, yeah, he can have you.

This time, when he reaches that point--his flesh and muscle melted down, leaving no strength, no defense to resist the bone-deep need he feels--he's already done so much. Given you so much.

Jesus Christ.

He's already gone down on you, his mouth putting in work between your legs, shameless and unrestrained with his tongue and lips and just that daring, dangerous hint of teeth with the sharp, heated edges of his beard.

You came with his beard scratching against your sensitive skin, hot, wet, hot, wet, so hot and wet, sofuckingwet, making you feel so wet. Shivering with the friction of his bearded jaw as it fucking started a fire but the fire is molten liquid that feels as if it's almost gushing from inside you. Flames consuming your body from the inside out. Fuck, Chris knows just how to stoke the flames, too. He strokes and rubs and presses with his tongue and lips and bearded jaw, even his nose, bumping your clit at the fucking perfect moment, keeping you purring. Roaring. If he's not fucking careful you'll burn the house down.

Ah!

He's already fingered you, too, working you to the brink and making you crash over it with his thick fingers curling inside you.

His fingers urge c'mere, c'mere, c'mere from within you, beckoning against that spot that makes your eyes roll back, a gasping moan overflowing from your lips, humid and all rasping breath. You'll go anywhere he tells you to, and you won't think twice, your back arching into a curve so deep you know you'll feel it in your muscles later. You don't care. You just want him to do it again.

A-again, oh, God, please, again, Chris!

And he's already fucked you, too. His rhythm filthy and fluid, unstopping, just building gloriously, with his thrusts carving deep enough to make you pant, at just the right angle to leave your nails digging into his shoulders, and then, God, then, sliding his hand sensually, heavily down your stomach to press the heel of his palm against your clit as he works, leaving you unable to shut your mouth, nearly drooling. Every time he thrusts inside you, your body arches and shudders as if possessed by animal lust and your clit rubs against his palm like a firework exploding.

Arousal curled so tightly inside you that it hurt. The pressure against your clit, the thickness of him inside you, the sounds of your bodies together adding to it divinely. Deliciously. God. God, it was all just biting and rough enough that you came clenching desperately around his cock, split open yet tangled into a tight, tight, tight knot.

Now, exhausted and just on the knifes edge of raw, pain mixing into your pleasure like venom that burns so sweetly yet leaves you limp and helpless, you're somehow still heated. You blame him. Jesus Christ. He's a fucking dog under all that pretty and polite. Bastard. How he keeps fucking fuck-just fucking going is beyond you sometimes. You're never going to tell him that, though. Then he might stop.

Nothing could be worse than him stopping.

You're hot everywhere and you can feel yourself dripping when he pulls his cock out of you with a lewd squelch that just fucking ties back into your fever. Bastard. He's the worst. How could he do this to you!? Oh, God, that fucking soaked sound echos through your head--his dick pulling out of your clenching pussy, clenching trying to fucking keep him where he belongs, deep and heavy inside you--and turns your vision to static. More and more, the longer you have to deal with that on loop in your head without anything other sensory input to drown it out and leave you thoughtless, you turn into static.

Squelch.

You hear it. You feel it. You're soaked.

Yet, he doesn't fuck back in, splitting you again, and finish like you expect. Like you want. You ache without him, you're so open, shivering and almost cold without the heat of him draped across you--shoved inside you.

Instead of fucking you until he cums, thrusts sloppier and messier now that he's focused on the pleasure tearing through him on a rampage, his hands glide over your goosebump-ed, slick skin. You're sweating so badly. You're leaking, too. More. Dripping. You need him. You don't need more, you might not be able to cum again, too much too soon, too good, but you want him to do whatever he wants to you. Desperately, you want it. It's all you can think about. All-consuming and ravenous.

As you shiver, weak and strung out, he turns your spread, melted body over, letting you soak into the sheets like butter on hot toast, and pulls you onto your knees.

Just onto your knees, getting them underneath you. He doesn't bother to untangle your fists from the messy sheets when you grab them, needing something to hold onto as anticipation wracks you. Despite how weak you feel, over-satiated and shaking, he knows he won't be able to rip you off of them. Fisting the sheets, you're too overwhelmed and wound too tight despite having cum multiple times already. He just needs you on your knees. He just--

He just needs you.

He can have you for his own desires. Anything. Everything.

Your blushing face and tits are pressed wantonly into the mused bed as your chest heaves. You're moaning wetly, breathily, into the mattress, hardly muffled at all with the lust he stirs in you as his big, heavy hands run up your back. His blunt fingernails stretch just a touch, that delicious bit of recklessness surging through. It feels so good. It must look good, too, because he groans deeply as you instinctively arch for him. And, oh, fuck--

Oh.

Oh, yesss.

You urgently fight your shaking, well-used muscles to arch just a little deeper, spread your thighs just a bit wider, and grasp the sheets just a little bit more in response to the dizzying slick sounds of his fist flying tightly over his cock. He's wet, too. Dripping with you. Using your wetness to slick himself. So shameless about it. And, shit, his voice chases the desperate sounds of he grips himself, a noise of agonized arousal, almost too turned on by you. A kick to the chest. Painful with how he's held off, devastated by the way it feels to let go.

It feels so good. It rolls off of him in waves as he grits out a few swears from behind you, jerking himself off frantically, that Boston accent coming out full force, cutting his filthy mouthed swears off at the end.

Fuckin', Jesus fuckin' Christ, baby.

Oh, the way that fills you with hot, clenching need all over again...

Want isn't a strong enough word. Need isn't strong enough, either. The way it makes you feel is insane; the way he makes you feel is insane with his eyes heated as they stare at your body, dragging across your skin in the most sultry way, all but sizzling, gazing at you so intensely you feel it through your whole body. Ripples of pleasure, just from being so thoroughly enjoyed. Stared at like that.

Fuck, it's like being prey, but you want it. You want to be torn into. You gasp with anticipation every time his teeth loom nearer, poised to bite down and make a feast of you--the sticky, leaking head of his cock keeps brushing hotly against your ass, his breath humid as it fans out against your skin. He's gone from kneeling upright behind you, taking you in, to curling forward, so attracted to you it's like gravity. Crumbling. He just can't help it.

Again, again, and again, his hips jerk forward instinctively. Fucking forward. Bucking needily. And you just keep choking on the sensation of his cock against your ass, smearing his pre-cum and your own slick wetness into you. God. Your thighs slide apart wider without your conscious mind having anything to say about it. He's so painstakingly close.

He could just--

He could slide right in. You're so wet. Wetter now, probably, then he was when he was inside you. It's just building. Building. Soaking. You're dripping, you swear it, melting from the inside out. If only he'd just--

He would hardly have to shift and he could fuck right into you!

He could do no work at all and shove himself inside, go back to filling you up. Fucking you hard. Carving space for himself inside your hot, wet, tight body and make you heavy with cock.

You want it so bad that your pussy throbs with your pounding heart. Frantic. A raw moan comes careening out of your mouth. You didn't even realize your mouth was still wide open, panting, chest heaving, heart racing faster.

As you struggle to breathe around the rising immense arousal inside you despite your emptied exhaustion from orgasming before, all the oxygen you get just makes you ignite more. Feeding the fire. Combusting hotly. Brightly. You feel all swollen and tight. Wet. You can hardly take it.

You can't take it!

Next, something of a whine surges out of your lungs. With each heave of your chest, you can feel your hard nipples brush against the sheets. You just feel tighter and tighter. Each time his cock brushes you, just the tip, each wet squelch of his fist, speeding up now, chasing and urgent, each sound he let's out, each gruff word he let's slip, swearing and saying your name, admiring you, using you, desperate to claim you until--

Ah, ah, ah! Ohh, God!

He does.

He cums wet and filthy across your presented ass with the most delicious sound and all the muscles under your too tight, feverish skin ripple all at once. And you sigh roughly. Raw, sandpaper edges to the sound. You're still fucking throbbing but you could--you could live, you could die happily with the sensation of his release soaking into your skin. You would ache but it would be more than enough, enough now and enough later to dive between your own thighs and touch yourself when he's not home later, on set, working, dipping your fingers into your own mess, stifling your sounds into his pillow, dreaming of the way he makes you feel, cumming to what he does to you.

You don't ache for long, though. You hardly have the time to think, to breathe before he's there. Here. He has you.

All he has to do to get you off is drag his fingers through the mess he's made across your ass and use it, as if he needs it, you're so drenched, to rub tight, fast circles around your clit.

OH!

It shocks you.

Electric.

So fittingly, lightning fast, one of your hands darts down to hold his hand there, fingers around his wrist as you uncontrollably gasp and plead for him to do that, yes, please, more, oh, ohh, Chris, yes! Just! Mmmgh! Just like th-thaaat! Reaching forward between your legs and touching, rubbing, merciless where you're most swollen and sensitive is nearly crewl at this point. It's murder. You mewl, grinding into the pressure, riding and riding the waves. It lasts. It really fucking lasts.

By the time you're done, you're more than exhausted and drenched. You already were those things, so what are you now? Not that it matters. You can't think. Your brain has turned to liquid and dripped out of your ears.

Giving up, your thighs slide apart shakily, leaving your heated, swollen slit to be revealed to the sex-thick air of the bedroom as you run across the bed like spilled ink, spread open and exposed. Messy. With the last of the air in your tender chest, you gasp--the air feels so shockingly cold, caressing your flesh. But you can't even speak to say so. It's so much. Overwhelming in every way. How does he do this to you? How does he manage to get so much from you? How does he manage to be kind and servicing and selfish and a fucking bastard? It's not fair! He drives you out of your mind, out of your body.

I hope that suffices 😘

[nrdmssgs]

John Price x reader (friends2lovers) part 1

Masterlist

Part 2

Pairing: Price x civilian afab reader

Summary: you were friends for god knows how long. Johns` caring nature makes him want to protect you from any stress: be it an excessive amount of work and burnout, or his own intentions going beyond your friendship. It's your Bday, and he wants to give you a few days of peace and quiet away from work. And take you to his country house.

Warnings: smut (under cut), intercourse without clear consent (dream sequence), there is age gap, but the reader is absolutely legit adult

AN: I am a sucker for friends to lovers, mutual pining and slow burn, a simple "lets write smut for our beloved Cap" thought has turned to slow fluffy comforting story. Although, Price gets his fare share of nsfw in the next part.

“Put it away, will you?” John grunts, noticing you pulling out your damn documents and a pen. He picked you up from work to take you out of town and celebrate your birthday in peace and quiet. He should have suspected something was wrong when you, who usually stayed in the office until night, agreed to leave with him in the middle of Friday so easily.

“The deal was: I don't work in your house. In your house, John. This is your car, and we are yet to spend here an hour or so. So I might as well work, till we're there.” Your voice is distant and patient, as if you're explaining something to an annoying kid and not to a man much older than you. And it drives Price mad. He doesn't want you to be patient, professional and composed with him. You are almost always that way. He wants you relaxed, silly and grumpy when he is around. He wants you to feel safe, to take a breather, to not hold back. But here you are, going through your papers, as he drives you away from the town. He murmurs something crabbed under his breath and turns on the radio.

When you get out of his car and look around in an absolute awe, he can't help but smile. As you slowly approach the open wooden terrace before his house, he takes the bags from the trunk. “H-how do you have such a gorgeous house and don't stay here permanently?” You ask, as he opens the front door. “If I were you - I'd never left this place!”. “If it wasn't for my work…” he pauses and thinks, “and I could keep you here…”. But he knows better than to scare the living daylights out of you. He is your safe place, and he will never ruin this for you, even if it means keeping a friendly distance.

After leaving your belongings in the guest bedroom, you go downstairs and find Price in the kitchen. You offer to help, but he has something other on his mind. He wipes his hands and turns to you with a smirk. “I have a very important task for you.” He chuckles and leads you out of the house, picking up a blanket from the sofa along the way. A hammock awaits you on the terrace. You may have forgotten about it yourself, but John remembers how you told him half a year ago that on your birthday you just dream of getting a couple of hours of sleep during the day. You tried to protest, but it is useless with Price: when he decides something is to happen - it happens one way or another. 

So as he finished tucking a blanket around you and was about to leave back to the kitchen - you caught his hand. “Price, this is just unfair. It's my Birthday, I know, but still. You get to do all the work, and what am I supposed to do here?” He leans down and raspy whispers in your ear, “If I get to do all the work - you lie back and think of England.” And walks away with the most shameless shit eating grin, you've ever seen on his face.

He finds it amusing. How just a few words change your face from distant and calm to absolutely furious. In a second, you snap from that always professional cold personality to his friend, that would gladly kick his ass if there was such an opportunity. Furthermore, such moments just help him blowing the steam off. It reminds him, that he is there to make you smile, not to do all those things, his body aches for, when he thinks for too long about you. But deep inside he admits, that this joke was a bit too much…

The sun starts slowly setting down, when John hears your steps on the stairs. “I'm going to shower. And it smells delicious here!” He hears your voice and his heart swells with joy. Quiet peace of his cabin, your voice finally sounding relaxed, food looking good, cozy warmth around him - this all feels so right. Feels more like his Birthday, not yours.

When you are back on the kitchen, fresh and changed, John is somewhere else. You go to the stove and take the lid off the saucepan to take a quick sniff. “It needs a final touch,” says a deep, familiar voice behind you. You turn back and shudder. John was not into any really fancy clothing and usually preferred to keep it simple and practical. So seeing him in a dark blue shirt, emphasizing his body so perfectly, was quite unexpected.

“Good Lord! Who are you, and where is my friend Price? I wasn't expecting to dine with the duke of—”. Your voice was a bit shaky of surprise. “Cut it out… Next time, I'm wearing pajamas on your Birthday.” John smirked and went to the stove to put the food on the plates. You mutter under your breath, "Well, next time I'm taking photos then," and head to the table under his reproachful look.

John was a pretty decent cook, but this time, he's outdone himself. You were almost moaning after the first bite. He just sat back, appreciating how you're squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head, approving everything he cooked for you. “If you ever consider retiring from your service - I'm hiring you as my personal chef!” He chuckles at your words, his eyes never leaving your face. He silently revels in your delight, taking in every word and little smile. This is exactly what he wanted: your little holiday, not interrupted by work, by other people, by a bustle of the big city.

When you are both done eating, he cleans the table and takes out a bottle of your favorite whiskey. "I thought we agreed that I would do without gifts." You sigh a little frustrated. "It's not a gift, take it easy," he grins as he opens the bottle. "I'm just sharing good old Islay malt with a friend, that can appreciate it and not just pour it down. The bottle stays in this house, so if you ever want to drink with me again... you'll have to come over here."

"Now you're luring me in with alcohol. Very graceful of you, Price." You laugh, then take the glass, he hands to you and sniff its content. “M-m-m, there is such a strong smoke and sea salt in its aroma… I think, I want to try it outside.”

“Goddamn connoisseur.” His voice is croaky as he follows you out on a terrace.

You lower yourself onto the deck and dangle your feet off the ledge. John stands at a distance and silently watches you. There was no trace left of the cold, detached, professional you. You are enthusiastically talking about something, but he just looks at you and smiles.

"Hey, sit next to me, I'm cold." You turn to him. Price walks up to you and sits, letting you snuggle against his warm chest. He puts his glass away and turns to you, breathing in the scent of your hair as you continue to talk to him. He does not want this evening to end, he is ready to sit the whole damn night like this as long as you lean on him and keep telling him anything, coming to your mind. Anything, that happened to him before meeting you, feels small and not important.

John slowly melts against your back, his breath tickling the top of your head, when you say, “Ok, I'll help you clean the kitchen and go sleep.”

Of course, he doesn't let you lift a finger. Not on his kitchen, not today. You are sent to your bedroom, and he is left alone. He just needed something to keep him busy, to drive away unwelcome thoughts. Desires, rolling down his spine, like a lightning, inexorably taking over his body, paralyzing and taunting his mind. He pauses cleaning up and steps out of the house. His lighter clicks and a cloud of cigar smoke escapes into the dark, cooling air. The awakening beast in the back of his head grumbles and hides away.

It's only when he closes his eyes, his mind spirals down a feverish dream, that he can't fight. Your head thrown back, spine arches with every his move. Your lips, swollen from his kisses and bites, gasp for air. Oh, he knows that this may be the end of your friendship, that you may not want to see him ever again, so he's not going to stop. He will make you remember, his cock is going to zero out your whole world save for that painfully hard thrusts. He will make this night count, his fingers glistening with your release, but never leaving your overstimulated clit. “Don't you dare hold back. I'll drag it out of you one way or another”, he's almost growling in your ear. There is not a single trace of friendly and respectful distance between you two left. You're in his hands, on his lips, around his twitching cock… So you bite down your lip and hiss his name loudly. 

That's when he wakes up. The sensation of his dreams fades away in seconds, giving a way to the recoil spreading through his body. John curses under his breath, looking around him: it's still dark outside. How can a dream fill so good and so terrifying simultaneously? Thank God it was just a dream, and you are sleeping safe and sound in the guest bedroom. He's just going to take a cold shower and try to not think about this nightmare. You are safe with him, he'll make sure of it, no matter, how hard it gets.

When Price leaves the bathroom, he notices a light on the first floor. Going down the stairs, he finds you perched on the couch with a stack of documents on the table and his reading glasses on your nose. As much as he finds it endearing, he has to interrupt you.