#imagine all the things his crew has to put up with

[zephyr-ro-emenki]

The chilling part about "Odysseus" is that the operatic Vocals in the background are Chanting "Old King, Save/Spare Us" and that's important because their old King Would have done that.

Except Odysseus isn't their old King anymore.

Their Old King was who Odysseus was at the beginning of Epic. The one who had Polites at his side, his men at his back, Eurylochus as a loyal friend and Brother, and Athena as his Best Friend Mentor. He was a king who knew when to strike but was, like Polites, greeting the world with open arms. And the people of Ithica remember their old King, see their old King in his son, Telemachus, and mourn his loss from their kingdom to his ventures in the war with Troy.

But now, he's back, and he's killing all the people who were openly chanting about killing his son and Raping his wife, both things that he would be justified for killing them for. And all these Suitors can think of is, he is still their Old King, so once he has killed our leader rallying us to action, he will be amicable to Open Arms talks to deescalate the situation.

Except, he's not the old King. The old King died with Polities. He was still alive as a hollow version of himself, but his heart of "Open Arms" died with Polities. But there were still remnants of him, Asking Aeolus for wind to get home, pleading with Poseidon for Mercy, and pleading to Circe for Aid to evade Poseidon. But it was the Underworld that put the nail in the coffin for their old King. Seeing all his dead men in the river Styx, finding out his Mom had passed while he was at war, and hearing the prophecy from Tyresias that "He" will not be the one to make it home to Ithica, to his Wife and Son, but that a Haunting man with a trail of bodies will stand before his wife.

And that's when their Old King Dies, and their New King is being forged in his Remnants. When he declares he will become the monster, adopt the very mindset of his Enemy Poseidon, and use Ruthlessness to get home.

But there's still a trace bit of their old King left, the parts that love his family, and the part that trust his men. And then the part that trusts his men kept getting attacked and chipped away at by his sole desire to get Home, and the betrayals that befell him after becoming a monster.

Finding out that Eurylochus was the first one to betray him, the one that directly lead to 515 of his men being killed because he didn't trust Odysseus's word and directly disobeyed his orders to not open the wind bag. I imagine that before he found that out, he intended to try and bargain with Scylla, to kill as little of his men as possible, if not be able to talk her out of killing anyone at all. But immediately after finding that out, he tells Eurylochus to lite up 6 torches. Because now he's been betrayed, and he will just pay the Toll to pass through.

And then immediately after, Eurylochus tries to lead a Mutiny against him, and he ends up stabbed through the back by the rest of his crew, tied to the mast, and has to watch as Eurylochus literally pisses off every god in the area by killing the Sun Gods Divine Cattle and having Zeus sicked on them.

And now Odysseus two remaining halves of the old king have to choose. His family back home, or the crew who has betrayed him twice and chiseled away at his remaining trust and loyalty to them ever since Polyphemus? He now has to kill off more of the old king. And he does.

And then, he has to deal with Calypso.

I'm not touching on Calypso, because if I do I'll be here for a lot longer, but she breaks him mentally and forcefully breaks his physical purity to his wife by SAing him. And then once he leaves, he mentally snaps and stabs Poseidon.

So, all that is left of their old King is a Monster who wears the few tattered scraps of their old kings clothes, who clings desperately to the final piece of his old form, his family. And they have the audacity of asking him for mercy after openly threatening to harm it? To destroy it? To defile it as he has been for the past 20 years?!?!?!

No. He's had enough.

And his family (Penelope, Telemachus, and Athena) are the only one's to recognize that Odysseus is still their old King, just beaten, bruised, abused, abandoned, and betrayed. But he's still the same person, and they will fall in love with him again.

[ruporas]

wait. wait. wait. ive been staring at ur latest comic for awhile now and i think i've noticed something about the colors? which are amazing, first of all- just gotta get that out there cuz i adore that soft pink and deep green combo

but i just realized that throughout most of the comic u use both in equal parts it seems. to separate bg + fg and such, to highlight characters/objects, etc.

but then when vash gets back to their room, all the walls are that dark green. and, bit by bit, the pink totally falls off. by the end, it's nothing but constant dark green as vash starts to cry

but then wolfwood slams in and he's backed by that soft pink. and suddenly the comic is nothing BUT pink. soft lines and whites and gentle pink tones EVERYWHERE to just. SO tastefully highlight the little details.

LIKE. WAS THIS INTENTIONAL?! i almost wanna guess that it wasn't since all those green panels w vash crying are all closeups focused on his expression so it makes sense to just put the simple green behind it and all attention on him so the pink just isn't Needed

BUT AT THE SAME TIME THE EFFECT IS SO MASTERFUL THAT I WANNA BELIEVE IT WAS ABSOLUTELY INTENTIONAL

HEHE..... first of all, thank you for looking at my comic so closely, THAT'S LIKE... REALLY SWEET and a huge compliment to hear, thank u thank u

and yes, it was intentional, especially more towards the end!!! in general, the colors are meant to serve as a mood indicator, so a balance of them in a scene would just mean a neutral "okay-ness" and have a functional serve to separate background / foreground / subject matter... deep green signifies introspection or incoming sadness (especially on pg5 when vash cries), and pink signifies wolfwood, which, not an emotion but he is happiness, someone that helps vash lose his doubts in a matter of seconds -- which is why those last few pages are just pink white and lines, and the panels are gone for the majority of it. i wanted to show their unity and togetherness!

while vash still has his issues of just Not saying anything about his loneliness, his feelings are alleviated temporarily with wolfwood's presence and he's just grateful that his paranoia didn't become true, and that wolfwood is genuine, true to his word, when he means he'll be following vash/staying with him. even though it's mission-bound, vash would probably still feel guiltily comforted by that fact.

I'M GLAD IT WAS PARTICULARLY EFFECTIVE IN THIS COMIC because i definitely could've pushed it more... i figured it was a minor thing that not a lot of ppl would care for, but more ppl enjoyed it and noticed the colors than i thought, so i'm glad it worked out!!!

[baeshijima]

— within uncertainty

sunday reflects on his limited time thus far on the express, only to find himself distracted by a face he has unknowingly become fond of.

CONTAINS : 1.2k wc, gn!reader, astral express member!sunday, fluff

A/N : chat have we seen the lc and gameplay leaks…? throwing up.

When Sunday first arrived on the Astral Express, a miniature gold and crimson ticket attached to his apparel, he wasn’t sure what to expect.

A new start; that much he was sure of. But with these people who instilled a newfound hope and courage to face the future, there was no shadow of a doubt within his heart and soul that he would encounter the unexpected more times than he can keep track of.

Sure enough, the unexpected came in many ways.

For one, March 7th’s uncanny ability to look at the bright side of things appeared so natural to her, so easy and simple. In recent times, he has found himself thinking about situations in a more positive light, no doubt a side effect of having spent time with her bubbly self.

He discovered Dan Heng’s aloof demeanour barely concealed his great care and affection for the crew— the Astral Express family. Even with what seems to be passive quips and dead-eyed stares, Sunday has begun to note the differentiations in his tone and body language, and all the subtleties he only shows with them.

He discovered the Trailblazer was every bit of a jokester as they are courageous, often finding himself staring blankly at some of their… seamlessly timed quips, to put it lightly. Even so, he’s oftentimes caught himself mid-admiration when they take charge in what they believe is right, wondering if he, too, could be like them in that aspect.

He found that Welt, while still retaining the righteous and strong spirit he displayed while in penacony, had a rather unprecedented charm. Sitting down for hours on end listening to the elder ramble passionately about animating, the arts, and endless theories about this universe wasn’t something he had ever planned for, but his heart warmed all the same at the burst of energy.

He came to realise the Express’ Navigator, Himeko, was certainly a… character. Brave, wise and humble were what he would use to describe her, even more so after her warmly welcoming him into the family. However, Sunday realised he could do without that… concoction she dubs a coffee.

He also never realised such a creature existed until he met Pom-Pom, much less one being a sentient conductor. Their nags are backed with overflowing affection for the members of the Express, often displayed through the meticulous care taken in the tailored meals and rooms and experience. There is so much love of the Astral Express, and Sunday wouldn’t be surprised if he were told most of it came from the Conductor.

(Though he does recall being warned by Dan Heng in particular to not anger the Conductor, an experience he is both curious about but also content in not knowing what exactly would transpire.)

And then there is you.

Sunday only caught a glimpse of you during the final moments of the conflict, much like with Himeko, so he didn’t have too much to go off of other than the fact you, just as it seemed to come with being a part of the Astral Express, were brave and fought for what you believed in.

(With you in particular, he found himself unable to forget your gaze — how it held a sparkling resolution and commanded his full attention, completely and utterly drawn in.)

Of course, that’s not to say you don’t embody those aspects now that he’s gotten to know you. Rather, you are so much more than what he could have ever imagined.

“Wow… they’re way softer than they look!”

…In more ways than one.

Sunday doesn’t really know how this situation came to be. He was merely idling around the Express in search of something to pass the time until you took note of his predicament, swooping in like the graceful saviour you are (self-proclaimed by you).

Somehow, in some way, that brought you both to his room.

It’s times like these where Sunday wholeheartedly believes the most forward member of the Astral Express isn’t that racoon-like Trailblazer, but rather you instead.

Seriously. How are you not embarrassed by this… this compromising position you’re both in?! He can practically feel the radius in which the heat from his face permeates!

“Do you, like, have a care routine for them or something?” you ask while gently thumbing individual feathers, because obviously this is only affecting him and him alone. “I refuse to believe your wings are like this naturally.”

He knows he gave you permission to touch them, but it doesn’t change the fact his wings are still sensitive. Aeon knows what you would do with that information; well, assuming you haven’t already picked up on his reactions towards your… ministrations.

“I do have a routine. I go to great lengths pruning and trimming my feathers. More than that…” he trails off, opting to ignore your mumbled comment of “Wow… you’re just like a bird then…”. He coughs, averting his eyes from your intensely gentle gaze, raising a fist to cover his lips. “Are you this forward with everyone?”

You blink. Once, twice, thrice. Somehow, the action makes Sunday fluster even further.

A hum leaves you as your lips purse and your head tilts in thought. “Well, I wouldn’t say everyone, exactly. Just those I consider to be very close to me. Oh,” you begin, as though realising something, “does it bother you? I’m so sorry!”

No— wait— why are you apologising?

“I didn’t realise I was making you uncomfortable! Oh gosh, I did it again…!”

You make a move to scramble away from him. Is it your frantic and unfocused eyes, or perhaps this uncharacteristic side of your usual confident and unabashed self which makes his heart lurch?

“I’m so, so sorry! I’ll keep my distance from now on and—!”

He acts before he can think.

“No!”

There’s a surge of panic which shoots into him. It makes itself known in the raw strain of his voice, in the shaky wide-eyed stare at the thought of you leaving, in the trembling grip he has your arm in.

Really, Sunday doesn’t know what he’s panicking about. He just knows a part of himself would never forgive him for unintentionally pushing you away like this.

A gasp escapes him after a few tense seconds which felt much more like an eternity. With haste, Sunday tears his hand away from your arm. Despite that, he remains in close proximity to you, mustering the courage to look at you once more.

“I… I mean, no, you’re not making me uncomfortable.” Sunday prays you didn’t hear the stammer in his words. And, if you did, then he hopes you don’t bring it up. “If I were feeling as such, I would have told you outright.”

The silence is absolutely suffocating. Even so, Sunday doesn’t dare look away from your stunned expression, not even when he’s almost positive his face is about to melt off from the sheer heat radiating from him.

“Oh.” You blink, expression falling into that of neutrality. A nod of understanding is your next action; understanding of what? Sunday has no clue — he’s not sure he even wants to know. “So you’re that type, huh. I see now.”

Nevermind. Maybe he does.

“…What does that mean? Wait— [Name], come back here! Explain what ‘that type’ means! Are you listening?!”

Suffice to say, Sunday never received a verbal response from you. Only your cheeky grin before you left and a plethora of butterflies fluttering amok within his stomach are all that remains.

Yeah. Sunday didn’t know what to expect when joining the Astral Express; in fact, he still doesn’t know what to expect. Despite being thrown into the unknown, he finds himself thinking this situation to not be so bad after all.

if you enjoyed this, reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated <33

[innerfare]

You Just Do It Better 

Summary: There are some things that are better left to you

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Luffy:  

When his hat is in a state of disrepair, as it often is, he now hands it over to you to be fixed. You did it once when he was sound asleep after a fight, and when he woke up, he discovered his most prized possession looked better than it ever had. People are so rarely allowed to touch his hat, but he begs you- puppy dog eyes and all- to fix his hat for him every time it gets damaged. You just do it better. 

Zoro: 

Why does your sake always taste better? And your beer? And, though he’s loathe to admit it, he’d rather swipe that fruity cocktail you’re drinking than have his own whiskey because whenever you order a drink, it just tastes better. Oh, and when you make it? Forget about drinking it yourself. If you make a drink yourself, be it ice water or hot tea or something with liquor, Zoro will at the very least be stealing a few sips, even if he’s made his own. You just do it better. 

Sanji: 

Who knew you had such a talent for frosting cupcakes? He takes such pride in cooking for you, never imagined for a moment he would allow you to pick up even a single kitchen utensil. But he had his hands full one day and you took over the cupcakes he’d made upon Luffy’s request, and you did such a beautiful job he didn’t even let the crew eat them. Now, it’s your job to frost any sweets he makes. You just do it better. 

Ace: 

It’s everything you touch, really. Whether you’re picking out a necklace or seasoning a dish, you just do it better. But most especially, you talk. Whether you’re talking about nothing or speaking on something important, you have a way with words that he simply doesn’t. He always puts his thoughts and feelings through a you filter because however you phrase things is going to be the best way. You just do it better. 

Sabo: 

You edit his manuscript. He has no shortage of people who could do it for him, people who have real experience doing such things. He could do it himself, too, educated as he is (though he hides it well). But you’re so much better. You know exactly how to read his words and improve on them without changing the underlying point he is trying to make. He even has you read his private journals just for your opinion. You just do it better. 

Law: 

You put the right words in his mouth for him. Law often stumbles over his words and isn’t the best at communicating his emotions. You have a special talent for reading his emotions and explaining them, so much so that when he has a conflict, he comes to you and you help him piece together the right thing to say so he doesn’t end up snapping and saying something rude (still probably ends up snapping, but it’s not as bad with your help). You just do it better. 

Kid: 

Applying the soothing gel intended to calm the residual pain in the stub of his arm used to be a private ordeal, the fact that his arm hurt perhaps his most closely guarded secret. But you walked in on him one night and found him in so much pain that you took over despite his protests, and he found the gel worked even better when you massaged it into his arm. Now, he doesn’t even bother trying to do it himself. You just do it better. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[caotictimmy]

🍏- ANON? MAYBE??? it's so late for me but reading your nsfw on Daisuke...UAAAGHHH SAAGHHH 🗣️ he's such a vocal man and the whole morning sex thing where he can't get into you quick enough .helpop helppp meeeee helpppp

(maybe this is a request? Maybe I'm just yapping lowkey??? But if you want to write on this, by all means go for it LMAO)

Giggling over Swansea being mortified while walking in on reader x daisuke getting it on, I imagine they don't notice him and Daisuke is getting all needy trying to keep his pace 🤞 That boy has never felt the touch of person romantically so I could onllllyyyy assume that he'd been sensitive his first time. Or like. Every time with reader- especially if they're still on the ship. He's trying to not make too much noise as everyone is asleep ☹️ his whiney ass is NOT making it through that night. Bonus if reader is nonchalant about it the next day at lunch. They're talking with someone about their poor love lives (finding people to stay with how long their jobs shipments are)- reader dropping shit like 'aw man yeah. if only there was someone to really understand me, y'know?'. As if Daisuke wasn't memorizing their insides and how they physically react to him with his body just last night 😭

HELP 🍏 ANON THIS MADE ME LAUGH SO HARD I ALMOST FELL OFF MY BED. But this is Acually so smart. I always believe Daisuke gets lost in the sauce when you guys have sex. For the headcanon I was thinking they were known dating. But for this let’s pretend the crew doesn’t know Daisuke and reader are dating. The first kind middle part will be NSFW. But the rest should be NSFW. This will be done as a one shot. (I’ll also include your little bonus! Plus a little more:3)

What was that god damn noise..? Swansea thought. Irradiated as he heard a squeaking sound, an indescribable muffled sound coming along with it. For fucks sake he just wanted to get some rest! But those loud noises would not let the poor man drift to sleep. He was gonna put a stop to that noise. Once and for all.

Swansea swings his legs over the side of his bed, sitting up. Stretching his arms as he gets ready to investigate what the noise is, and where it’s coming from. He stands up, his back making a loud crack.( I love old man Swansea). He slips his slippers on. Grabbing and putting on his robe by the door. Slowly pushing the door open. Before silently shutting the door. The noise got louder. Even though the walls were paper thin. It still muffled some of the noise.

He tread carefully through the halls. Getting closer to the noise. Swansea could hear talking maybe? The squeaking of something getting louder the more he approaches. Wait. He’s getting closer to Daisuke’s room..? What the hell was that kid doing. He could hear a faint panting? He started walking a bit faster.

Daisuke’s door was cracked open. God was the kid hurt-. Oh… Oh dear god.. For the love of pony express why did he have to be the one to catch this scene. He could now clearly see what was happening now. God why him..? (Warning for what’s ahead will be NSFW)

“Nyyhhh… F-fuck you feel so good. G-god so good. Am I doing good? Mhm!.. a-am I doing good for you. Wanna make sure your feeling as ..ahh ~… as good as I am.” Daisuke whimpered out. His arms wrapped around your waist as he continues going his rough pace.

“Yes! O-oh fuck hah… doing so good for me!”, Your voice muffled as you were face first in your pillow. Daisuke’s body pressing against your back. Like he was trying to mold his body with you. A loud ‘plap’ sound being able to be heard.

Swansea felt his face contort in horror. He could feel his stomach twist in disgust. He definitely walked in on something he definitely shouldn’t have. So what did he do. He went back to his room. Staring at the ceiling with that petrified face still stuck on his face. To say he wasn’t able to sleep that night would be an understatement

-

“I feel like it’s impossible to date anyone with this crappy job.” Anya huffed in a frustrated tone. “I second to that.”, Curly sighed as he ate his crappy lunch.” Our shipments at a Minimum are 5 months! And it’s like we get a month or two back on earth, before they send us back to ship something!” Anya finished. The annoyed look on her face quite prominent.

“I get you Anya. I want to Acually spend time with someone and let them get to know me. But you can’t really do that on this floating rock.”, You said nonchalantly. You sure were letting Daisuke get to know you. All of you… Swansea thought. Trying not to gag at the imagie of what he witnessed last night.

You could feel Daisuke’s eyes turn to you. Lingering a bit longer than ‘just friends’. “Yeah man, it’s such a bummer!” Daisuke said. A light blush spread across his face as he said it. No one else except Swansea noticed.

“Say uh..” Anya started, looking up at you. “I saw you walking in here with a limp, you good?” She asked,her voice laced with concern. God why did you have to ask that Anya! Swansea cringed at her question. “Oh yea no I’m good! Just hit my leg on the wall while sleeping y’know.” You said. Hmh.. I’m sure you were doing some sort of sleeping. Swansea hurrying to finish his food. Quickly getting up to put his plate in the sink and immediately start work. He really just wants to take his mind off this..

-

“Swan-sea!” Daisuke said, dragging the two parts of Swansea’s name out. Swansea ignored Daisuke, continuing to work on the broken vent. “Dude did I do something wrong?” Swansea sighed. Since Daisuke wanted the truth he’ll get it.”For fucks sake Daisuke! Can you have them stop fucking like rabbits! I know you young people have your urges, but this has been going on for the past week. And it’s Saturday for crying out loud!” Swansea yelled.

“AND IF YOU FREAKS ARE GONNA KEEP GOING AT IT. AT LEAST KEEP THE DOOR SHUT AND BE QUIET. SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP.” Swansea finished, catching his breath. Daisuke just stood there stunned.

“You.. you heard us..?” Daisuke asked, his mouth agape and his eyes shot wide. “I didn’t just hear you guys. Saw it to! Close the damn door next time!” Swansea said irritated. Daisuke continued to stand there embarrassed. “Swansea uh.. I-I’m so sorry I didn’t realize.” Daisuke stuttered out. Still shocked about the revelation.

“Yeah you better be fucking sorry” Swansea muttered. Turning around before pausing. Sighing a bit. “At lest your getting some action in this hell hole. Reminds me of me and my wife.” He said. Before holding his fist out. “I’m only gonna do this once Daisuke.” Swansea said. Daisuke happily returned the fist bump.

“Now get the hell out of my sight for the rest of the day!” Swansea yelled. “Alright swan-sea!” Daisuke said, doing the same long period name thing. Swansea let out an annoyed sigh. At least the kid was happy…

[eddiesxangel]

That’s that me, Espresso | rockstar!eddie

@mmunson86 requested: I can’t stop thinking about rockstar!Eddie x pop!Princess! reader! & its all thanks to miss SC & Espresso! Imagine they are at one of her concerts right right & she has Eddie sit in the middle of the stage! she is about to debut this song its the last song for the night and she dances on him , for him , around him & Eddie is loosing his mind so right after the concert he wastes no time and takes her into the dressing room & the rest well you know the rest 🙂‍↔️💗

Cw: modern au, Rockstar!Eddie x Pop!princes wife reader. Age gap, Eddie is a filthy simp for his girl, soft!Dom Eddie (sir), oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected), small bit of anal fingering. Talks of pregnancy.

2.3kwords

We are back baby!!! From the Wildflower universe, if you want more of the lore on these two.

“You ready, Angel?” Your husband smiles at you.

Husband, it still has a nice ring to it. You’ve been married just under a year. Giving birth to your little one put the wedding on the back burner, but you started the wedding planning once Lila Rose was 7 months old.

“Yeah, I think so,” you smile. You’re already in your hair and makeup, just waiting for your turn to get on stage.

The rowdy crowd of music festival goers grow impatient as the crew tirelessly works to remove the previous acts' set design.

“You think they’re going to like the new song?” You fiddle with the bedazzled mic in your hands.

“You kidding me? They’re going to love it!”

Eddie always encouraged your work, even if it wasn’t his thing. He loved every song because it was yours.

“All performers take their mark,” you hear the stage director in your ear.

You give Eddie one quick kiss and make your way to the stage.

The set went perfectly, but the riding anticipation of the new single was still in the back of your mind.

“Okay, Coachella! I’m going to need you to help me out with something.” You smile. “This is my last song of the night, and it’s brand new, so I’m a bit nervous.” You pace the stage.

“Now I have a special someone backstage with me, and I know he won’t come out unless we pressure him, so I’m going to need your help, okay?” you walk over to side stage and look him in the eye

You knew he would kill you, but you needed him for the extra moral support, and you kinda had a plan up your sleeve.

“Come on out, Eddie, baby,” you smile, and the crow starts to chant Eddie’s name.

Feeling embarrassed and a bit proud of you for getting what you wanted. Eddie stocks onto the stage, giving a small wave, not wanting this to be about him.

“Sit,” you speak into the mic and point to the fold-out chair in centre stage.

Eddie sits, and before he can protest anymore, he hears the first few beats of the music.

“Nice,” you sing in your breathy tone your husband can’t get enough of.

Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo

Eddie really loved that last lyric. He thought it was very clever of you because he knew it was about him and how he eats you out.

Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso.

You and your dancers moved to the beat without missing a step.

I can't relate to desperation My 'give a fucks' are on vacation And I got this one boy

You turn to your husband and wink.

And he won't stop calling

You take a few short steps around to the back of the chair.

When they act this way

You lean in from behind and run your free hand down his shoulder to his chest and back up.

I know I got 'em

You swear you hear him moan.

I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer

You twirl your hair around your finger, then summon Eddie to come closer.

Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger

He gets up and follows you like a puppy as you strut across the stage. My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen.

You flick up the edge of your mini skirt, and Eddie can see the lacy underwear beneath your stockings.

He needs this song to be over so he can finally have you. You've been rehearsing for this moment for months now. Stressing over it and with the baby, you and him have had hardly any time to have sex like you used to.

He's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso

Eddie is back in his seat by the second bridge, and your dancing is driving him absolutely crazy. You know what you are doing. He can see it in your eyes; your mischievous gaze tells him you had this all planned out. You probably faked being nervous just to get him out here so you could seduce him.

Eddie was losing the battle of not getting hard in front of the thousands of fans watching. He couldn't help it; his bombshell of a wife was so irresistible.

Is it that sweet? I guess so That's that me, espresso

Eddie listened as you thanked the crowd. He took your hand and yanked you off stage once he thought it had been enough time for your final bow, letting you soak in this moment before he whisked you away.

“Eddie!” You squeal while trying to keep up with him in your platform go-go boots.

“Gotta have, you know,” he growls in your ear so only you can hear.

“Really baby? I worked you up that much?” You swoon.

After all this time, Eddie still makes your heart flutter. You never thought soulmates existed, but when you met Eddie, all that changed- especially after having his baby. The way he was with your newborn had you wanting to jump his bones before the doctor okayed you for sex again.

The trailer was close but not close enough in Eddie’s eyes. A thin sheen of sweat was starting to form on Eddie’s brow, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the hot Californian sun or the fact that his cock was about to bust through his jeans, and he was trying not to have anyone notice.

“Get out,” Eddie commands as the trailer door swings back. Eddie opens it so hard.

Your team looks startled as you and Eddie enter the small space.

You give them an apologetic look and they place down their stuff and leave you both alone.

“You were perfect up there.” he pulls you in for a kiss. “So fucking proud of you.” He kisses down your neck.

“Mmmm, thank you, baby”

“You’re a goddamn succubus, you know that, Angel?” Eddie shuts the door behind them and locks it before drawing the blinds.

“Is that right? Mr. Munson.”

“Oh, it is, Mrs. Munson.” Eddie pulls you in by the waist for a heated kiss. Still, after all this time, you both were so greedy for one another. Nothing can ever break the bond between the both of you… not again.

“God, Angel, you were a goddamn tease on that stage; you got me looking like a simp.”

You pull back, curious as to where he had heard that term.

“Simp?”

��VR tells me things.” Violet Rose, Eddie's oldest, whom you’ve adopted, is now twenty two.

“Okay, old man,” you giggle, and he walks you back to the sofa in the trailer’s back corner.

“Enough talking, more kissing.”

Your tailored dress, made just for you, was not easy to strip. Eddie was having a hell of a time trying to get out of it, only to groan when he saw your pantyhose as another barrier.

“Why do they make these things so tight.” He grumbles as you giggle at him.

“You weren’t complaining about it ten minutes ago,” you snide.

“Don’t make me put you over my knee.” He smirks.

“No, Sir,” you put your lip.

Finally, once you are out of your garments, Eddie kneels right between your legs.

“Baby, you’re going to hurt your knees,” You push his long hair back. “Why don’t we go -OH - to the couch” Not listening, his lips are already on your throbbing cunt.

The plus from your clit was relieved as Eddie’s tongue grazes it before quickly lapping and flicking at it.

“Oh fuck!” Your legs buckle, and your grip on Eddie’s hair tightens. He growls at the pain in his scalp, but he loves it all the same.

You feel his tongue go down, then to the left, then the right and finally circles your clit.

“Mmmmm, tastes so good, Angel”

“Please don’t stop!”

You feel Eddie's skilled tongue glide through your slick folds before you feel his hands nudge your legs, signalling to open them wider.

Eddie’s thick long fingers pump up into your warm wet cunt until you’re losing the battle to say upright. Your body is hunched over as Eddie sends waves of pleasure through you.

“Mmmm, that’s it, that’s my good girl. Cum for me.” The pads of his fingers graze you g spot each time. He doesn’t stop until he knows you are satisfied.

“That was a big one, baby; singing for me, go, you all worked up, didn’t it?” He stands and leads you to the couch until you’re lying down, legs spread nice and wide for him.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hum as you watch Eddie finally strip.

His body never looked better; he wants to be the healthiest to watch your baby grow up and maybe put another one in you soon.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir, more than ready.” And it was true; it’s been a few weeks since you’ve had time to have sex, and it was long overdue.

All the pent-up sexual tension between the both of you is finally being released when Eddie's hard cock slides into yours effortlessly.

“Fuck I missed my pussy, baby girl.” His head tilts back, and you take the opportunity to suck on his neck, just as you know he likes it.

“So fucking beautiful” his cock pumped in and quickly backed out.

The tip of his dick ring never failed to make you see stars. Already you’re a moaning mess for him, cock drunk, and it’s not even been a minute yet.

“There she is, there’s my good girl” Eddie palms your tit as he continues to thrust deep inside of you. He watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, blissed out by how he makes you feel.

“More” you moan.

“More what?”

“Sir, please, I need you. Baby, I love you. I love you, please, I need it.” You babble.

Eddie's heart swells. He loves you so much he would give you the moon and stars if he could. Hearing you love him, especially when the two of you are like this, really makes him kick into high gear.

He will never take for granted those three words when you say them to him; your past is too painful not to.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.”

“Fill me.” You pull him down into a kiss. Your tongue explores his mouth.

His hand that was planted on your waist is now travelling lower to your ass.

“This what you wanted, baby? All of your holes filled?” His finger teases your puckered hole.

“Yes!” You gasp.

“I think that can be arranged. Suck” he points his finger at your face, and you take as much of it in your mouth. You suck on it until it’s dripping with your saliva.

“Such a dirty girl, letting me fuck you and play with your ass hole.” His finger slowly glides in, and he pumps it to match the rhythm of his thrusts. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir!”

“God, I love you.” Eddie can’t help but to fuck you frivolously. The sound of wet skin slapping together filled the thin walls of the trailer.

“Please, please, please.” You were so close you could feel the pit building.

The pressure of his piercing brushing your g spot with every heavy thrust, each shape snap of his hips making him slide deep inside-mixed with the pressure of his finger pressed deep inside of you was bringing you to the edge of bliss.

“You going to come when I tell you to, Angel?”

“I can’t-can’t hold it!”

“Yes, you can,” he growls.

“F-fuck,” you curse him. You can’t hold it for much longer.

“Mmm, that’s right, babygirl. You’re going to listen to what I tell you.”

Your pussy naturally grips Eddie's cock so tight he almost loses it.

“Please, Sir. I want to cum. Please!”

The look in your eyes has Eddie reeling. The way you beg and submit to him, his perfect girl. His perfect wife, the perfect mother to his children.

“Cum” he growls, and you let out a cry of relief.

With your arms wrapped around the back of Eddie's neck, you pull him down into you on instinct. His body weight pressed into you, and your cunt grips his cock so deliciously Eddie is coming with you.

“Shit, baby girl, I think you nearly killed me that time,” Eddie chuckles as his legs give out and his total weight collapses on top of you.

You giggle dumbly as Eddie plants kisses all over your face.

You look up; his face is red and sweaty, but he’s never looked more beautiful.

“That was long overdue.” You sigh with relief.

“You’re telling me,” he chuckles with you.” “Let’s get you cleaned up, mama.”

“You trying to knock me up, Munson?” Deep down, you’d love to have another baby.

“What if I was?” He looks back over his shoulder, catching you checking out his juicy ass.

“Then I’d say we should keep practicing.”

“Wait for real?”

“You’re no,t getting any younger, “ you giggle.

“Oh, you little minx, you’re in for it.” He runs back towards you, lifts you off the couch, and plops you in his lap.

“I’m sorry!” You laugh as Eddie tickles your sides.

“You really want to start trying?” He asks genuinely.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Guess it’s time for round two, gotta make sure it really sticks.”

Tags: @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @niallerlover8022 @eddiesguitarskills @all-dogs-die

@mimsie95 @mystargirl-interlude @rip-quizilla @munsonology @ali-r3n

@callsignraver @allthingsjoeq @ceriseheaven @amira0303 @mmunson86

@lofaewrites @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @lokis-army-77 @hellfiremunsonn

@hellfirenacht @oneforthemunny @lma1986 @mimsie95 @straykeeks

@crazycat-ladys-blog @starksbabie @hellfire--cult @goth-cowgirl-03 @dashingdeb16

@slayyymisha @xblueriddlex @kellsck @localemofreak @goodbyegh0st

@nope-thanks @nabiiturner @neurospicynugget @micheledawn1975 @mikromoon

@corrodedcoffincumslut @http-dilflvr @paybacksawitch

[birdyisthewordyy]

Hiyayaya, I leik ur work >< I hope it's alr if u can do my request ^^

An au where Pony Express shuts down and the crew finds better things to do with their life rather than being in that stupid shitty company— and then some random ass afternoon they randomly see the reader, doing the most mundane things like just shopping or eating food. And yk it's kinda weird seeing them after a few years!

Yes, I need some crew x readers

a/n: OH MY GODDDD I LOVE THIS ASK SO MUCHHH YES?? I’m literally foaming at the mouth

Tulpar Crew x Ex coworker! Reader

Curly

You were never exactly close with Curly on board

You were a little intimidated by him

He liked you though

He thought you were very competent

So when he sees you 3 years after Pony Express kicks the bucket, he’s more than happy

Walks in and shouts your name with no shame

Sits down across from you and chats it up

You talk about mundane things like life on the Tulpar, your families, life since Pony Express disbanded, and so on

He gets roped into the conversation

And your eyes

And the way you talk

“Let’s do this again sometime, yeah?”

Cue weekly meetings

Jimmy

Jimmy despised Pony Express

You were just another person who he had to deal with

So when he sees you walking down the street, he doesn’t try to get your attention by any means

Puts his head down and hands in his pockets

Doesn’t help

You see him

“Jimmy?! Hey!”

You run over and say hi enthusiastically

Like you missed him or some shit

He doesn’t hold up his end of the conversation…like at all

“Yeah, yeah. Uh huh.”

You talk about how you didn’t like Pony Express either

You hug him when you go

He doesn’t like how it makes his chest feel tight and weird

Swansea

A lot like Jimmy, but this time he has an actual reason to hate Pony Express

He’s grown to hate it over the years and was thankful when it finally shut down

But it raises the question: where does he go from here?

Applies for a lot of bodyguards jobs and the like

Finds you working at a club he applied to be the bouncer for

In a less than ideal waitress uniform

Doesn’t stare though

He’s a gentleman

Or is he? Wink

He and you don’t talk but you recognize each other

And give each other “Good to see you” glances

He liked you on the ship

You were one of the few people who knew how to do anything

So it’s always to see a… you

Daisuke

Daisuke…

He went back to living off his parents

Just for a bit, he swears

He finds himself going out more to fun places

Imagine his surprise when he sees you at this amusement park out of town he’s visiting

“(Name)? (Name)!”

Runs right up to you

You walk with him and talk about life

Actually you don’t really talk much about Pony Express

Despite that being how you met

He knew that you had more to you

He wanted to know!

Tries to win those rigged games to impress you

Buys you cotton candy

You come home with him and you watch a movie

End up crashing on the floor

He missed his buddy

Anya

Anya gets sick a lot (again I am projecting)

Funny enough she has to go to the doctor a lot

Nurse seeing a nurse

And that nurse happens to be you

You were both nurses in Pony Express’s crew, but while she was assigned to the Tulpar, you got a different ship

She knew your name though

You take her vitals and give good small talk

You have to draw her blood

She hates this

But you’re damn good with a butterfly needle

She doesn’t feel a thing

She likes how you talk her through it

Makes her feel safer

You exchange numbers and promise to get a coffee together sometime

She leaves with a smile on her face for once

And antibiotics because she’s got another virus

Poor Anya

[bluesidez]

Can’t get Firefighter Miguel out of my head because of the Miggy discord.

content warning: nothing but fluff...for now 😗

word count: 1.3k, not proofread

Next ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅𓌉◯𓇋 Masterlist

Imagine you’re trying to get into baking or something and you’re not used to your oven AT ALL.

Cherry pies? Ruined.

Apple fritters? Apple crisps.

Chocolate chip cookies? Charcoal chip cookies.

Brownies? More like burnt brownie brittle.

Your process would be going so well until it was time to actually put your dessert in the oven and it was like your oven plotted against you.

You set the right temperatures. You pre-heated. You even placed things in the right part of the oven. How is it that everything goes wrong?

The only desserts that saw the light of day were the no-bake ones. You’re not sure how much more no-bake cheesecake you could take anymore.

The day that really sets it off is the day that you attempted to make a simple vanilla birthday cake. Your friend’s birthday was coming soon and you wanted to gift her one of those cute bento cakes.

Your icing is finished and delicious. You’ve been practicing the decorations all week and they were pretty cute! The cake just a few more minutes left to bake, then you could take it out to chill.

As you’re piping a bag of baby pink icing, you look up to see that the room is a little foggy. You turn in a panic and notice puffs creeping from the oven.

“No, no, no!!!” you cry as you turn to open it.

You can’t do anything but cough as a ton of smoke hits you in the face.

Your cake on fire. Orange and yellow light illuminating the oven.

You panic as the fire seems to grow brighter once it hits the air.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god!”

Where was your fire extinguisher? You tried fanning at fire with a towel, but to no avail. You couldn’t even get to the knobs to switch the oven off.

You step back, terrified. You felt like sobbing watching the flames take over. Why aren’t the sprinklers on?

By the time you run out of your house, the fire alarm decides it can sing its tune. You call 911 with a shaky voice, hoping they can get here faster than your alarm decided to make itself known.

You stand outside peeking through your eyes as you could see the flames grow near your kitchen window.

Thankfully the firetruck makes it in time, the firefighters working quick to get inside.

One of them asks is anyone else inside and you shake your head no, thankful that it was just you.

It doesn’t take long for them to put it out and come back outside.

“Are you ok?,” one of them comes to ask you. You look up to this tall, dark, and handsome man. He’s sweating a bit obviously from the summer heat and the fire as he takes his helmet off. His hair is curly and dripping. You ogle him a bit, watching his chest move up and down.

“Do we need to call you an ambulance?” he says, placing a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“Oh! No! So sorry, I’m still a little…winded from everything,” you say, embarrassed.

“Ok, well as long as you’re fine. Do you mind telling me what you were doing?” he asks.

You cast your eyes down. Here was such a fine man standing before you and you had on pajamas and a frilly maid apron with flour splattered on top.

“I was trying to make a birthday cake. As we can see, it completely failed,” you reply. “I don’t know what happened. I followed every instruction. The oven was set at 350 degrees.”

He tilted his head at you as you whined away.

“Is this the first time that something like this has happen?”

You shake your head no, “This is the 3rd burnt dessert in a week.”

“Hm. Well I’ll have the crew here check it out.”

An hour and some change later, one of the firefighters tells you and the tall glass of water, who learn is a captain named Miguel, that you have a damaged gas line.

“You’re really lucky that you were only getting blackened sugar. One more cake and that could have been the end,” Miguel says to you with hand on his hip and another on your shoulder. “And also, never open the oven if there’s a fire. If this happens again, turn the oven off and wait until it dies down.”

You felt your head nodding, heart beating at how awkward everything felt.

Miguel looked down at you again, “Do you have anywhere you can stay over night? Or until I can get someone up here to get this gas fixed?”

“My grandma lives a couple of streets down,” you say, cheeks heated at his intense eye contact.

“Tell you what, how about you settle there for the night and I’ll come back personally to help you grab your belongings tomorrow morning?”

“That would be amazing! Thank you so much. I’m sorry for all of this,” you gesture to your house.

“It happens. Nothing you did here was your fault. Besides, I’m the captain. Fighting fires is what I do. Now, how about a ride in the truck to your grandma’s?”

You feel giddy when he practically pulls you in the truck. No seats are left so you have to settle for sitting on Miguel’s lap, heartbeat racing.

The other firefighters try to hide their smirks and snickers watching their captain hold you so softly in his arms. One big bump in the road has you clinging to him to not fall off.

You straighten back up, embarrassed by the little slip. Miguel chuckles at your actions.

You pretend not to hear their wolf whistles as he guides you to your grandma’s front door.

Miguel knocks firmly, waiting with you until she opens it.

She’s about to fuss at you for not stopping by sooner until she looks up at Miguel.

“And who is this?” she says, a bit shocked.

“My name is Captain O’Hara. I just wanted to drop your grandbaby off. Had a little baking accident.”

Your grandma listens to Miguel as he explains the situation calmly and professionally. It doesn’t stop her from fussing over you, grabbing and turning you to check for any damage.

“I’m ok grandma. I just have to stay here while my gas gets fixed.”

She thanks Miguel profusely, “Son, what’s your favorite food? I’ll have it made and sent down there for you.”

Miguel laughs heartily. You’re about to tell him he doesn’t have to answer that until he beats you to it.

“Whatever your specialty is, I’ll take it,” he says with a sweet smile on his face and holding your grandma’s hands.

“Cap! We gotta another fire at the college dorms. Someone burnt noodles in the microwave again,” a firefighter yells from truck.

“Well if you all can excuse me, duty calls!” he says and runs back to the truck.

“I can’t believe you burnt a cake! Haven’t I taught you better? And you know you’re making him that food, right?” your grandma says as you step inside.

“Grandma,” you say, affronted. “It was the oven, not me! And he might not want to even eat what I make after this.”

“Hmph,” she says, with a click of her tongue. “Well, you better get ready to use this kitchen here. You need that man as a husband.”

“Grandma.”

“I have some ham hocks in the freezer, some turnip and mustard greens. I think the church sent me some potatoes. We need to go to the store too. You gotta get him through his stomach.”

“Grandma!”

There was a silence as you and your grandma stared at each other.

“So are you thinking pork chops or catfish to go with the side dishes?” she said, grabbing a pencil and an empty envelope.

You just groaned and crumpled in your chair.

divider by: @benkeibear ❤️‍🔥

the grandma convo is heavily inspired by my own grandma lol. tagging @miguelhugger2099 @kit-and-wolfe @huniedeux @ugh-ok-fiyn because I want y’all to see this 😗

[that-student-that-has-homework]

Portgas D. Ace Headcanons 01

Excuse me Oda-sensei, but that 40 year old Ace is simply criminal. Thank you so much for blessing us with him

Anyway! Have some Husband!Ace headcanons For more Ace content please head to my Tumblr MasterList

Ace is, respectfully, a huge simp for his wife

To the extent that the Whitebeard crew straight up jokingly awarded him with a “Biggest Wife Simp” Award

They made it look official and had Whitebeard sign it and everything. There's even a stamp.

Ace has it framed and hung proudly on the wall next to your bachelor’s degree / college diploma / degree in general. 

I feel like despite his own personal insecurities, Ace still manages to be an amazing father

I imagine Ace originally setting out for like one or two kiddos at most (because y'know...what if he's not good enough) and ending up with 3 or 4 kids

Thing is, that’s both your faults.

Ace is tender and goofy with his kids, and he’s so friggin caring: to the extent that…well wouldn’t it be neat to see him with maybe another 2 or 3 kiddos of his own? 

(Your husband is hot okay?)

In his case, he swears you have a unique glow about you when you’re pregnant. But more than that when he sees you with your first born, he suddenly wants a big family with you.

I imagine his kids are an eldest son, then his princess, then the youngest boy who takes after his uncle Luffy.

His kids aren’t parentified. He keeps his issues far, far, away from them. Besides, he’s got you by his side.

He was dedicated to making sure they got as much playtime as possible.

He heard about learning through play, and he is DEDICATED to doing that as much as possible

Ace’s kids are spoiled with affection, but not spoiled brats.

While it’s true he’d give them the world, he’d rather let them go get it themselves. 

For example: when they asked for a tree house, he gave them the greenlight immediately.

But they had to build it themselves.

It was a super fun project lasting a little over two months with the whole family involved.

Oh and the Whitebeard crew helped too.

It took a while to get the design down initially, then the shopping logistics and whatnot (they used a lot of math here - see education via play)

Building the thing took maybe a weekend or two because the Whitebeard Crew and even the Strawhats came over to help

(It was mostly Franky and Usopp doing work, Sanji was cooking with Thatch)

Uncle Luffy was not allowed near the construction zone after an accident.

They almost destroyed the tree house with their partying once

Ace’s kids were not happy and no one was allowed in the backyard for the rest of the night

He makes sure they have proper manners and self-defense skills

You had to help out here, no lie.

He admitted he needed your help, especially after a dinner with Garp where Makino tagged along to see Ace again

He puts all of his kids into martial arts classes

especially his princess - he’s so proud of her when she beats up bullies

He’s not great at discipline though to be honest. He probably goes about it similarly to Garp. 

Ace will not tolerate any of his kids being nasty to their mother. No matter the phase.

You will have to hold him back if you want to let them get their frustration off their chest.

He’ll let them talk, but you’ll have to keep a hand on him somewhere, his arm, his hand, his knee, his shoulder, his back and rub soothing circles

Let’s just say, “talk shit, get hit,” is Ace’s attitude towards anyone being demeaning towards you (more so with adults, not his kids, but that's why they get a scolding)

"Ace my love" (he melts every time you call him that) "the kids’ll start thinking you love me more than them if you do that"

"My kids won’t disrespect their mother though!"

"They’re just venting darling, and when they say or do something that violates my boundaries, I'll be sure to reinforce it. Lead by example right?"

If they ever feel like pissing Ace off for fun they can just say something kinda not nice about you and he'll get mad and they'll flee from him giggling like the little gremlins they are

Ace is veeeeeeeeerry physically affectionate and he isn’t shy about it at all.

At gatherings with the Whitebeard family, he will gladly seat you in his lap, he will happily hug you as you are seated.

His arm is on your waist most of the time.

They tease him to make him tone it down, he does not.

He, in fact, dials it up. Turns up the heat lol.

You have kids? Not in front of them? What do you mean, not in front of the kids? It’s important they know just how much he loves their mama!

So he will continue to be playful with his hugs and kisses and other displays of affection.

It’s nothing too over the top. Just hugs and quick pecks wherever.

Your entire head is fair game for his smooches, your arms (he loves kissing your pulse and then making eye contact, sneaky guy that he is), your shoulders.

Maybe lifting you and spinning you around. Cuddles. Little bites.

He will play-wrestle his kids to “fight” them over getting to cuddle you, and then he’ll just put all his weight on all of you in a group cuddle

Just to let you know, your kids also receive all the warmth and love of his affections.

When his sons are still tiny and adorable, he smooches them all over. The kisses grow less frequent as they grow older, but the hugs do not stop.

Oh no, hugs galore.

Ace still pecks his little princess on her forehead though

When they’re all under ten he’ll wrap them in a hug (after he chased them down and caught them so they’re laughing and screaming) and start smooching their cheeks while they laugh and try to get out of his grasp

Also yes she’s his princess, but that girl has no problem throwing a fully grown man twice her size around, he made sure of it.

I reiterate: Ace is not remotely shy about displays of affection

Like his eldest could have a friend over, and Ace would still launch a full scale hug attack using the rest of his troops (daughter/youngest)

It's complete with screeching, screaming, and a lot of laughter

His kids used to get teased for it, but it didn’t take more than a few conversations for them to instead jeer at the kids that teased them.

"You’re all jealous your parents don’t love you like ours do"

"How sad, your parents don't hug and kiss you"

Their dad, grandpa, uncle - uncles really, are all gremlins - it's in their DNA

The kids are really physically affectionate with each other as a result

Deadass they’ll be kicking the shit out of each other one second and the next they’ll be all cuddled and huddled up playing Mario Kart or something

Ace is his kids’ hero.

His sons aspire to have his level of fitness.

His daughter, when she’s older, uses him as a standard for dating

You're relieved

Ace is touched and a touch nervous, because he is aware of his shortcomings, though he works hard to keep improving

Of course when you look at him, a twinkle in your eyes, and tell him, “I’m so proud of her, I’m so proud of you!” He feels better

When you continue: “if she can find a guy like you, who cherishes her as much as you cherish me, I’d be so happy.”

Ace loves you so much he swears

[keeksandgigz]

somewhere we can be alone

stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!fem!reader

a collab with @reidsbtch- mariah is literally the best person to collab with, it's like our brains were making out the whole time we were writing this. thank u for letting me collab with you to write this absolutely not self indulgent, way too long fic together <3

summary: Now on the tail end of graduating, Eddie Munson is required to take part in an extracurricular activity. He's assigned as stage manager for the school's production of Romeo and Juliet. You, the star of the show, aren't too happy to have your senior performance sabotaged by one long- haired metalhead.

word count: 7.7k words

warnings: no y/n, no physical description of reader, swearing, oral (m & f receiving), enemies to fuck buddies to lovers, mentions of queer!reader, it's actually just fucking smut, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up), cream pie, use of nicknames (baby, sweets, sweetheart etc), eddie being a stupid lovable idiot

This and all of mine and mariah's works are 18+ minors do NOT interact

He’s been slumped in the guidance counselor’s office for thirty minutes, the wooden chair digging into his bones, growing uncomfortable as he listens to her, hardly believing he’s so close to leaving this fucking school himself.

“You’re keeping up your grades and maintaining regular attendance, Eddie. You’re just missing one last thing to be able to graduate.”

He rubs his face, maybe from the lack of sleep, or the restlessness of finally being able to leave the office he spent way too much time in during the past six years, as long as he keeps showing up to school for the next two months. He groans regardless.

“What would this ‘last thing’ be? Am I gonna be sent on a quest to slay a fucking dragon? Is that what’s gonna take me to graduate?” He snaps, the lack of sleep has finally gotten to him– school doesn’t really appeal to his late bird nature.

The counselor gasps at the crudeness of the profanity “Language!” She exclaims, like he’s never heard that before, daring to swear in front of students, staff and faculty alike, but the blonde lady with the ridiculously coiffed and teased and sprayed hair composes herself again, jutting a look down to his student folder again.

He imagines it to be full of red pen marks, every single one of those a proof of his own failure. He’ll steal it the day he graduates– and set it on fire. Hell, he’ll even roast marshmallows on it.

“Anyways,” she explains in a way that really shows the massive stick up her ass that makes her think Eddie should just stop bothering with school altogether. “You have to partake in an extracurricular activity.”

And he chortles. He was thinking something dreadful like picking trash up at the park or feeding and bathing the old people at the retirement home.

“Something funny, Mr. Munson?” Her nostrils are flared, she can’t wait ‘til he leaves her office.

“So like- like drama club and shit?” His tone is incredulous, he can deal with a couple lines to memorize. He’s had to do way worse for his Dungeon Master role, and even then, Miss George likes him– she’s let him and the club play DnD in her room for the past two years. Should be easy.

The counselor takes her glasses off her pointy nose, letting them hang with a tacky pink, flowery chain around her neck. “Well, yes– that’s one of the options. Unfortunately, your GPA is not high enough for you to partake in the school play, per se, so I can only place you in the backstage crew– building sets and moving things around. We’ll put that brain of yours to work.” She chuckles as she hands him a slip of paper to give to Miss George.

Eddie picks up his bag, “Real funny, huh.” He shrugs his shoulders and heads to the school auditorium. Last time he was there he’d gotten caught by a custodian while Terry Richardson’s face was stuck in between his legs, trousers pulled down halfway down his thighs as she gave him a toothy blowjob. He got suspended for a week.

He sees Miss George sat in the audience, scribbling notes onto a notepad as you recite the famous balcony monologue from Romeo and Juliet. He knows you, he’s seen you around– you’re by no means in the popular crowd, but you stand out, in the way that your clothes always seem to border the fine line of what's socially acceptable and outrageously eccentric.

Even if you’re not part of the popular crowd, there’s no denying that, like the rest of the school, you avoid him like the plague, cute as he is. You interrupt your monologue as you see him smirk down the central aisle of chairs. Miss George turns around at the sudden interruption. Eddie just hands her the slip.

“Oh my goodness!” she coos, “We have a stage manager.” And he wishes he could have photographed the look on your face. “Stage manager?! Miss George, you can’t be serious!” You exclaim as Eddie takes a seat next to her, kicking his boots up on the back of the chair in front of him.

A smirk ever present on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at you. “He doesn’t have any experience.” You continue, not about to have your senior year performance ruined by Eddie Munson of all people. “Shouldn't be that hard to keep a diva like yourself in line, hmm?”

Eddie answers before Miss George has a chance to, the theater now going quiet except for a few snickers from the tech crew. “Alright, that’s enough from the both of you. Eddie, I’ll have our ASM get you up to speed. Now, please continue with the monologue.” The male only grins wider as you glare back, before looking back down at your script with a sigh.

He ventures backstage– not sure what ASM stands for and maybe too embarrassed to ask as he sees kids dressed in black moving wooden planks onto the stage, carrying cans of paints and brushes.

He taps a kid on his shoulder, arranging a prop table, he looks at Eddie like he’s seen a ghost.

“I was looking for the ASM?” The kid is looking side to side, still wondering why Eddie Munson is talking to him.

“Uhhh, she’s in the booth.” He mutters, before turning around and going back to his props. What the fuck is a booth?

Eddie just plainly decides to look for it himself, since nobody’s any fucking help in this school. He opens door after door- a storage closet, a closet just for wood, a bathroom. Arrived at the last door, he isn’t exactly sure he’s ever going to find this stupid ASM- and he still doesn’t know what that stands for.

The noise of a door opening startles you, as you try to put on your dress as quickly as you can to avoid flashing someone. It’s only when you see who it is that you start screaming, and with you, Eddie just pops a hand in front of his eyes, screaming a string of sorries, and that he hasn’t seen anything.

“I was just looking for the booth! Stop screaming!” he screeches, worried he’s gonna get himself in trouble with Miss George if she hears you screaming like you’re getting skinned alive. Thankfully, you stop, as Eddie looks away, aware of your exposed back peeking through the zipper. You clutch the fabric against you, struggling to zip up the back of your dress one-handed.

Eddie makes a whistling sound, distracting himself from the way you seem to be teetering between asking for his help and telling him to fuck off.

“The door to the booth is in the audience, by the way. Off to the side, there’s some stairs.” You huff, slightly getting your zipper up. He goes to turn around, but you stop him. He cocks an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes, lips in a thin line as you keep the door open with one hand.

“Can you make yourself useful and help me with my zipper?”

With an annoyed huff he steps fully into the dressing room, shutting the door behind him as you turn your back towards him once more. Carefully clutching the dress, your eyes meeting his in the long row of vanity mirrors in front of you. You can feel his warm breath on your neck as he steps closer, carefully lifting your hair over your shoulder.

Eddie’s fingers follow the seam of the unzipped garment, barely tracing the bare skin of your back. You try to hold off the shiver from passing through you as he slowly begins zipping it up. A hint of a smirk on his mouth as he notices the goosebumps breaking out across your skin. “Anything else princess? Or am I free to go?”

His fingers now fall away from you, clearing your throat as you try to shake off the arousal that was now coursing through your veins. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how frazzled he had just made you.

Instead of answering, you just groan, eyes lifted up, going past him and clocking him in the shoulder as you headed back on stage. God you were fucking insufferable.

Eddie finds out that ASM means Assistant Stage Manager and that said ASM was none other than Max Mayfield, roped into doing theatre tech for extra credit. And that the booth was where they tampered with the lights and shit. All he had to do as Stage Manager for that rehearsal was oversee the light cues, which proved to be a little more complicated than he initially expected.

He messes up most of the cues in the first act before he finally seems to have gotten a grasp of it. All the while you’re tossing glares his way, using the light cues as an excuse for the harsh looks. But really it’s due to your annoyance at how the mere brush of his fingertips left you wanting more. Wanting more of him, despite your better judgment– you were not about to have him ruin your senior show.

And in spite of that, you closely follow Eddie’s actions. In a lull between scenes he stands up, you follow him with your eyes as he enters back into the auditorium, beelining backstage.

Eddie’s not totally sure what shit designer built the theatre, because he might as well have pissed himself on the way between the booth and the only bathroom in the auditorium. Not only that, but he kept missing cue after cue, followed by the dirtiest looks known to man, straight into his eyes. After the encounter you had in the dressing room– fingers caressing the soft skin of your back, feeling you shiver under his touch, he knew he had some kind of leverage over you.

So when he’s done taking a leak and looks down at the door, he’s sure you’re behind it, slipping a little piece of paper in the crack.

Meet me in the booth after rehearsal. XX

Eddie wouldn’t say he was nervous, his curiosity was piqued more than anything. However, he’s antsy the last half of the show, leg bouncing as he tries to listen and follow Max’s instructions. The girl gives him an annoyed lecture in between cues. But his mind’s a little preoccupied, trying to figure out what exactly you want from him.

So when he re-enters the dark light booth once everyone else has left, he doesn’t expect you to shove him up against the door, locking it with a swift click. His breath hitches in his throat, both in confusion, and at the fact that you’re fumbling with his belt, despite the dirty looks you’ve been giving him the whole afternoon.

“What uh- what are you doing?” His tone is alarmed, stammering as he tries to grab onto the door handle for purchase. You’re too busy getting his jeans down to bother.

“Sucking you off. That okay?” You look at him for a reassurance that comes almost immediately with a violent nod of his head.

He’s confused, but he’s not going to turn you down. After all, he felt the way you tensed under his touch while he was pulling up your zipper, “Shit, fine by me.” He shrugs, acting like he isn’t busting at the seams waiting for you to pull down his pants.

Eddie’s belt makes a clinking sound, along with his wallet chain while you pull his pants down to his thighs. You move his trembling body away from the door, against the table with the light console. His knuckles turn white as he grabs the edges on the table for support.

Gripping the hem of his checkered boxers, freeing his hardened length. Your eyes widening slightly at the sight of it, he’s big— a lot bigger than you expected. Even in the dim lighting he notices your shocked expression.

“Ya gonna just stare at it all night sweetheart?” He asks, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looks down at you. You shoot another glare his way, before grasping the base of his cock in your fist, licking a long stripe up the shaft. Feeling satisfied as you hear his shaky intake of breath. Eagerly you take him past your lips, as a low groan leaves his own.

“Shit,” he curses as your warm mouth envelops him fully, ringed fingers knotting themselves in your hair. You open your mouth as wide as you can, taking him deeper. Gagging slightly as he hits the back of your throat, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as you try to adjust to his size. He’s by far the biggest one you’ve had.

“Talked such a big game with that mouth of yours sweetness, am I too much for you?” Your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs, his cock slipping from your lips as you pull back.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up Munson?” You huff, but before he can reply with another snarky remark your tongue is swirling around the tip of his cock. Silencing him for a moment as you take him back into your mouth.

Another string of curses falls from his lips, as his hips begin thrusting into your mouth with an abandon you haven’t seen before. Your cheeks are hollowed and he can feel himself getting embarrassingly close.

“F-fuck where- where’d you learn all of this?” It comes out in broken pants, and he can feel a smirk forming on your lips as you take him out a second time.

“One thing about theatre people is that we’re all gonna fuck each other. You should see how I eat pussy,” you shrug, putting him back in your mouth, and Eddie swears he’s about to bust in less than a minute.

“I’m gonna- fuck.” But he doesn’t get to finish that sentence, as you take him out of your mouth and stand back up.

Eddie’s bewildered expression is easy to read as he looks at you like you shot his dog. But you get close, dangerously close to his lips, your nose almost bumping his.

“That’s for fucking up my light cue, idiot,” it’s a feeble whisper against his lips before you’re gone into the darkness of the theatre. Too shocked to react, Eddie’s left with his pants pulled down for a good two minutes before registering what happened.

So he’s left blue balled in that stupid light booth, fuming and confused. There was no way in hell he would let you treat him like that and walk away the way you did.

Eddie had been scheming all week between rehearsals, attempting to find a good time to get you alone. He wasn’t about to let you get away with leaving him like that, but you were actively avoiding him.

But an opportunity fell into his lap without any effort on his part, Miss George asking you to stay behind to work on some blocking with her. As the stage manager he was required to stay behind too, his mind already reeling with possibilities.

So when you duck behind the curtain to change out of your costume, Eddie is quick to swoop in. Offering to shut down the lights and lock up, and Miss George is more than willing to let him.

By the time you get back on stage the theater is dark, the ghost light shining brightly center stage. “Eddie? Miss George?” You call out into the darkness, getting complete silence in return.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” You groan, clutching the strap of your book bag tightly. Of course he’d leave you in the dark theater to fend for yourself. “Asshole.” You mumble under your breath, reaching your hand out in front of you as you make your way across the dark stage.

You’ve bumped into multiple set pieces at this point, as you attempted to find the stairs leading down to the audience in complete darkness. Your frustration grows with each passing minute, that is until you hear the shuffling of feet.

“Hello?” You call out again, squinting as if it would help you see any better. Fear stirs in your gut as the theater is silent once more, shadows seeming to come to life in the corner of your eyes.

Once you finally reach the edge of the stage, you grip onto the railing tightly as you fumble your way down the stairs. Sighing in relief as you feel the carpet beneath your feet.

You only make it a few steps further before you feel a hand snaking around your waist, pulling you back into a hard chest. The other hand cupping itself over your mouth to muffle the scream that leaves your lips.

“Screaming for me already sweets? Haven’t even touched you yet.” His voice is mocking, his warm breath fanning across your neck as he laughs. You quickly squirm out of his grasp, a flashlight clicking on to illuminate his stupidly gorgeous features.

“You fucking psychopath! What were you thinking?” you shove him on the shoulder, he laughs as he zeroes in the flashlight on you, red in the face and furious.

“Had to get back at you for how much of a little tease you were the other day,” he croons. You purse your lips together, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks as you try to stabilize your still quickly beating heart.

“Whatever. Fuck you, Eddie.” You spit, but he’s quick to grab your arm and push it behind your back, the flashlight hitting the ground and rolling under one of the seats. His chest is pressed against your shoulder blades as you shudder in his arms.

“You’re not getting away so easily, sweetness.” He breathes against your earlobe as you keen into the warmth of his chest, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as his free hand goes to your waist.

“This okay?” he murmurs, and you nod. A sharp nip to your earlobe makes you hiss.

“I can’t fucking see you nod, can I?” You can tell he’s having too much fun torturing you, feeling his hand travel all across your torso and chest.

“N-No,” you whimper.

“Exactly. Try that again,” his hand rests against the waistband of your jeans, awaiting an answer, teasing the skin behind the fabric. The tips of his fingers brush the skin there, making you whimper in response.

“This is okay.” you breathe out, and it’s the only answer he needs to slip his hand past your jeans, unbuttoning the offending material to push his hand further down into your pants.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers against your ear as his hand cups your clothed core. You waste no time grinding against the heel of his palm, letting small, breathy moans escape you. Afraid to get caught in the dead of night getting touched and fondled by the town pariah.

“You sound so pretty singing for me, don’t you sweets?” he whispers smugly. His hand feels a little too good against you, your hips grinding back and forth following the rhythm he was creating, “Hmm, but I think you can be a little louder.”

You gasp as he slips his hand inside your panties, his calloused fingers encircling your swollen clit. Your head falls back onto his shoulder, your hand gripping onto his thigh. His digits dip lower, teasing your entrance before slipping one inside and curling them up.

You can’t stop the shaky cry from leaving your lips, the sound now filling the auditorium. A smirk tugs at his mouth, using the heel of his palm to press against your clit. “Listen to that… you’ve got such a pretty voice don’t you?”

You dig your nails into the denim covering his thigh, a low groan sounding in his throat. “Wonder what it sounds like when you beg,” he easily adds another finger inside your wet cunt, thrusting them deeper. “N-Never gonna happen Munson.”

Eddie laughs, pulling another moan from you as his other hand drifts up under your shirt to cup your breast. “We’ll see about that.”

His breath is fanning hot and humid against your neck as you reach around to bring his head closer, needing him to be closer.

Nothing he’s saying is registering in your brain, as his fingers pump in and out of you with a torturous pace, feeling his wolfish grin plastered against the skin of your cheek.

He’s watching your every move, your every breath and whimper, biting his lip at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head every time his fingers curl up in a certain manner. You don’t think you have much time left before you release yourself all over his hand, and he knows it.

From the way you keep twitching and tightening around his fingers, he feels you’re getting close, but much like you did that night in the booth, he won’t let you get it that easily.

“Y’close sweets?” he groans, his own hips now grinding against the swell of your ass.

“Uh-huh,” is all you can manage to say, brain scrambled from his words and ministrations.

“You know what you gotta do now, don’t you, pretty?” he bites at the hinge of your jaw, as you cry out, the noise echoing in the empty theatre.

“You gotta beg for it.” And he hears you gasp at that, a dry chuckle leaves his lips. “You didn’t think I was gonna make you cum that easy did you?”

“Mmm- fuck you, Munson.” you struggle against your brain’s desire to one up him and your body’s desire for release.

“C’mon, don’t you want to cum? I bet you’re so pent up from a whole day of staring at me building sets, aren’t you?” and he’s right, your eyes did wander to his arms in his tight fitting t-shirt, with his hair tied up in a low bun as he hammered nails into wooden boards.

His fingers speed up and you can feel it, you’re so, so close.

“Please, let me,” you whine into his arm, biting at the muscle there. You’re getting so loud.

“That’s right, keep begging for me– good girl gettin’ nice and loud for me,” it’s a growl at this point, a string of please please please follow it. Tears pricking at your eyes with how intensely good he’s making you feel.

So close, so close–

He removes his fingers, jerking you out of that hazy state you were previously in. The male now removes himself from you, retrieving the flashlight from under the seat. Your chest is heaving as you turn to face him, anger now coursing through you as he grins devilishly down at you.

“How cute, you thought I was actually gonna let you cum with how you left me the other day?” Eddie’s laughter fills the theater as he steps closer to you. Your bodies almost touching, lifting his fingers that were just inside you up to your lips.

The brunette carefully drummed the digits against your mouth, “Now, be a good girl and clean up the mess you made.” You glare as you let his fingers slip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them in a teasing manner.

You noticed how his breath hitches, his cock straining uncomfortably in his jeans. But there’s no way that you’re helping him out with his little problem now. You playfully bite his fingers that are still in your mouth, as he utters an annoyed ‘ouch’ before taking them back out.

His fingers make their way to your scalp– yanking at the hair, making you hiss. “You think you’re fucking cute? I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal,” his tone makes you tremble, as he takes his hand out of your hair and disappears into the darkness of the theatre, leaving you once again in the dark.

You stumble down the side stairs of the stage and get out of the side door, quickly making your way home.

And it becomes a regular thing, you and Eddie blue balling each other to the point of frustration, like it’s a sick and twisted power game you both play. After rehearsal he offers to lock up for Miss George and you wait for him in one of the dressing rooms, or in the dimly lit booth. He’s become irritable, and you have as well.

If you were insufferable before, now you’re downright hateful as you yell at the light crew to stop messing up your spotlight moment, or that your costume felt too constricting or your prop too flimsy.

Everything has you on edge, but you don’t hesitate to meet Eddie every night that week after rehearsal. Maybe he’ll let you cum this time.

You wait for him backstage, sitting on one of the set pieces, a throne. There’s a dim overhead light shining on you. Eddie’s lip is caught between his teeth as he looks at you on his Dungeon Master throne.

“Get up.” he commands. The shirt he’s wearing is tight, it makes his shoulders look more prominent. You squeeze your legs together.

“Why should I? My legs are tired from being on my feet all rehearsal,” you give him a fake pout as he inches towards you.

“Because that’s my Dungeon Master throne,” it sounds funny coming out of his mouth, voice low and gravelly “It’s mine.”

You chuckle a bit at that, how is this man being territorial over a set piece?

“And what if I said no?” a smile trapped in between your teeth, looking up at him through your lashes.

A dry laugh escapes him as he crosses his arms, “You’re so spoiled huh? Think you can always get your way? Last time I checked, this week it’s been the total opposite, hasn’t it?” and he’s not wrong, he’s given you all but what you want.

“This is my theatre, Munson. I believe you’re on my turf.” and he laughs at that, like you’ve said some kind of joke.

“You do theatre, sweetheart, c’mon you can’t be serious.” he kneels in front of you, grabbing your thighs and moving them apart with ease.

“Don’t be a bitch, Munson.” you hiss, as you feel his lips on your exposed thighs, kissing the skin there.

He whistles, low and sardonic. A wicked smile on his lips “That’s rich coming from you, you’ve had that nasty little attitude this whole week.” he continues with his kisses, while his hand ghosts over your inner thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat.

“I wouldn’t have this nasty little attitude as you call it if you would just let me- fuck.” his free hand ghosts over your panties. Your skin is sensitive, your brain is sensitive. Another touch and you might explode.

“Hmmm, what was that?” he bites at the flesh of your thigh, a high pitched whimper falling from your lips “Need me fuck that little attitude out of you sweetheart?”

And you’ve been wound up so tight for the past week that it doesn’t take you long to rid yourself of your panties. He takes advantage of you standing up, plopping down to take his rightful seat on the throne.

That cocky smirk is adorning his features, but you wanted to smack it off. “As cute as you think you look in this seat… it’s always been my throne sweets.”

Before Eddie has time to mutter another snarky remark you’re climbing into his lap, crashing your mouth against his. You’ve learned throughout the past week that it’s really the only way to shut him up.

His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your hips, eagerly grinding yourself against the bulge in his pants. Eddie moans into your mouth, his tongue licking your lower lip. You part your lips, allowing him entry as your tongues fight for dominance.

He tastes like Twizzlers and cigarettes, a combination you shouldn’t find as delicious as you do. But it only seems to make you needier, the denim becoming damp as you continue to grind yourself onto him.

“Look at you making a fucking mess on my jeans,” he mumbles against your mouth, nipping at your lower lip which causes you to whine as he pulls away. His chest rumbles as he chuckles, grabbing your cheeks in his hand— forcing you to look at him.

“But I’d rather you make a mess on my cock sweetheart.” His words have your head reeling, the male now gripping behind your knees and lifting you up. You squeal in surprise, clutching onto his shoulders to steady yourself. “Eddie, put me down.”

He carefully lets you slide down his front until your feet touch the ground, spinning you around before bending you over the armrest of his throne. His hands travel up your bare thighs, taking his time to appreciate your soft skin.

“Are you going to fuck me or not Munson?” You huff, the male now flipping up your skirt and landing a harsh smack on your ass. “So goddamn impatient aren’t you?”

You hear the sound of his belt clinking open, the zipper being tugged down. It makes you clench your thighs together, something Eddie didn’t miss. His fingers dipping between your legs, teasing you further.

“Trained you well didn’t I baby?” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, despite how your stomach flipped at the word baby.

And you can feel him then, carefully lining himself at your entrance as you try to grind back into him. A firm hand against your hips stops you. “Ready? I’m gonna go slow,” he mutters, and there’s a gentleness in his words, despite his meanness in how he’s handling you.

You hum in approval and brace yourself. There’s a loud groan coming from behind you as he slips inside your warm heat, reveling in how you almost suck him in, a small gasp leaving you from the stretch.

“Big stretch, huh?” he coos in a cocky lilt, and you almost wanna reach around and punch him, but this idiot has your eyes rolling back from the fullness, and he’s not even all the way in yet.

So you nod, followed by a needy little whine that makes him chuckle low in his chest– you need him that much?

He goes deeper, spurred on by your noises, by how much you need him to fill you up. A sardonic smile on his lips as he bottoms out and slams all the way in, causing you to shriek.

Eddie sets a fast pace, not really giving you any time to adjust, but he’s already nudging that spot deep within you, making you see stars.

You hear him groan, “So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you sweets?” and it’s a rhetorical question, because your tongue feels too big for your mouth and there’s nothing coming out of it besides unintelligible whines and moans as you hold on to the armrest across from you.

Your noises only encourage him to go faster, and it’s almost too much the way he’s hitting that sweet spot inside you. You try to distance yourself from him, just enough to catch your breath, but he grabs your shoulders, using them as leverage to ram deeper into you.

He leans over, his clothed chest against your back, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Goin’ somewhere, baby? Thought you could handle me.” He bites at your earlobe, and there’s just so much going on in your brain that you can’t possibly muster any response to whatever he’s telling you.

“Oh I said that, didn’t I? When we first met. I said I could handle a spoiled little diva like you, and look at that,” he laughs, and you’re sure you’re about to combust. Your fingers reach to grip the cushioned seat of the throne, as another wail leaves your lips.

“Singin’ my praises now aren’t you baby?” The wood of his throne digs into your hips and stomach as he pushes you further into it, a feline movement as he drapes himself off and over you, his hands now gripping the armrest opposite of you for purchase.

Your legs begin to give out, as you beg God or whatever entity up there that he won’t give into his sick little game. That he’ll let you cum this time.

“Shit, sweets, you’re gripping me so tight.” he grunts, a boyish grin on his face as small uh uh uhs fill the room.

“Should we let you cum tonight? We can’t have you being a bitch tomorrow, it’s the end of hell week,” he jokes, and it almost feels humiliating, how he can make fun of you like this and you’re just going to keep fucking yourself back onto him.

“God- Fuck- Please!” you beg, with all the strength you can muster, and he can’t help but let a satisfactory grunt leave his lips.

“Look at you begging, don’t even have to ask now, do I?” and you can feel him twitch inside you. He’s also getting close.

“Ready?” he huffs, with the last little bit of stamina he has, and you can’t brace yourself enough for the wave of pleasure that washes over you with the last few snaps of Eddie’s hips as you come undone with a loud cry, echoing through the dark halls of the theatre.

“Fuck, okay, where should I–” he begins, he’s at his wits end.

“In…side,” is all you can say before he stills himself inside of you, letting his release take over him with a loud groan. His warm cum painting your inner walls, leaving you feeling satiated.

Eddie stabilizes his breath, forehead leaning against your shoulders, days on days of pent up frustration hanging like mist in the air. You’re both able to think clearly for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffs, lifting himself off of you as he slowly slips his cock out. You can feel his cum beginning to drip down your thighs, your legs wobble as you attempt to stand. Knees buckling as you try and find your discarded panties.

“Whoa there, I got ya,” he wraps his arm around your waist, holding you against his warm chest. It felt good, leaning against him like that. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, “I’m fine Eddie.”

You push yourself off only to nearly fall once more, an annoyed grumble leaving his lips, “Are you always so stubborn?” He reaches down for your panties, guiding you to sit on the edge of the throne so he could help pull them up your thighs.

It was an unusually tender action, and not one that you expected from him. “Thought you didn’t want me sitting here?” You tease, his brown eyes glancing up as he’s kneeling before you.

“I’ll let it slide this one time,” he chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. A dimple you had never noticed before indenting his cheek, another feature that now found annoyingly attractive.

You roll your eyes at him and stand up, “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal.” You quip, as you try to wobble off the stage, he runs after you.

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you walk home like this,” and there’s a tender look in his eyes, something close to genuine concern. “My van is out front, I can drive you.” He points in a general direction behind him, and you want to say no so badly.

But you don’t, and now you find yourself being driven home by Eddie. His dingy van smells like cigarettes and weed and it squeaks every time he goes over a bump. There’s loud music blaring through the stereo speakers and an uncomfortable silence between the two of you.

“So uh, you excited for next week?” Eddie’s the first to break the silence, briefly turning towards you.

“I’m actually kinda nervous,” you admit, sinking into the seat. “It’s a big role, big shoes to fill. I guess I’m just scared I’m not gonna be any good.” You chuckle, almost embarrassed at your admission.

“You? Not good? I’ve seen you, y’know? I’m not just staring at your tits during rehearsal. You’re pretty darn good.” He gives you a half smile at that, pulling up next to your house.

You’re a bit flustered by his compliments, finding yourself not wanting to leave his company just yet.

“Thanks, Eddie. I appreciate it,” you smile at him.

“And hey, if you still feel nervous opening night come find me— I’ll help you,” he winks at you and you can’t help but laugh, as you see him looking at you with a big grin on his face.

You look at him back, and God, maybe it’s the streetlights or the moon, but he’s never been more beautiful. In a leap of courage you lean over the dashboard and peck him on the lips.

As you detach from him and reach for the door handle, he pulls you back in deeper, searing and intense, one of those kisses that have your tummy flipping. Except it’s not in the comfort of the theatre, and without an underlying motive behind it.

Just you and him. In his van.

You let your lips part, give him access to your mouth, but he stops you.

“It’s midnight,” he whispers against your lips. “Dress rehearsal tomorrow, you need to rest.” He smiles as you place another peck on his lips. Pouting as you reach for the door handle. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you until you’re inside, seeing the light of your room turn on.

Once he knows you’re safe, he starts his van back up and pulls away from your house with the cheesiest grin on his face.

Opening night. It’s finally here.

You should feel excited, and yet all you want to do is lock yourself in one of the broom closets and hide. You’ve never felt so nervous before, thinking of all the different outcomes that could occur. What if you forget all your lines? Or you have an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction during a quick change?

Your mind is reeling as you enter the dressing room, the rest of the cast buzzing excitedly around you. You fake a smile and sit at your station, noticing the bouquet of lilies resting on the counter top. You can feel yourself flushing, opening the card that came with it.

Break a leg Juliet xx.

You ask around the rest of the cast but no one knows who left them, and while you hoped they came from a certain metalhead… you couldn’t be so sure. Your little cat and mouse game had suddenly turned into something very real, and part of you was afraid it would be over once the curtains closed.

You get ready for the show in a daze, now staring at yourself in the dressing room mirror as nerves rage through your insides. The rest of the cast had dissipated, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

“There’s the leading lady,” Eddie’s voice snaps you out of your haze, meeting his eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He must have noticed the look of panic across your features, as he rushes to your side.

You give him a weak smile in return, letting a heavy exhale escape past your lips.

“So uhhh, did you like the flowers?” He asks, and he can see your eyes light up in the mirror, momentarily forgetting nerves, fear and anxiety.

“So it was you,” he coaxes you to face him, kneeling next to you with a large grin.

“T’was I, fair maiden.” He does a half bow from his kneeling position, making you giggle.

“So you’re in love with me now?” You tease, as Eddie’s hands come to rest on your thighs, spreading them as much as he can in your dress before moving in between them.

“I’m literally going to die from nerves, what if I mess up my lines?” you begin, but Eddie seems to have much different plans.

“There she is….” he murmurs, more to himself.

You feel the heat pool in your middle at his words, squirming a little in your seat. Eddie reaches to cup your chin, tilting it down so you meet his gaze. His brown eyes sparkling with mischief, “You know, my offer still stands Lady Capulet.”

“Here? The doors are literally opening in fifteen minutes, don’t you have stage manager things to take care of?” your tone is alarmed, rather, a mix of alarm and excitement.

“My job as stage manager right now is to make sure Juliet feels comfortable enough to go on stage,” he grins, peppering kisses over your hand and wrist.

“But what if we get caught? Or you make me cum so hard I forget my lines?” The nerves make you ramble, as his chin rests on one of your thighs.

“As good as I am at eating you out sweetheart, I doubt that’ll happen.” He bunches the fabric of your costume up your thighs, beginning to give sweet caresses on the skin of your legs.

You seem unconvinced, still.

“Look, I’ll sweeten the deal. If you get all your lines right, which I don’t doubt you will, I’ll take you out on a date.” His lips are pursed in a coy smile.

Your eyes widen, “Like a date date? You and me?” and your heartbeat picks up.

“Who else, idiot?” Eddie laughs, which makes you smile, “Now,” he begins.

“Do you want me to do something about those jangled nerves of yours?” And you can’t help but bite your lip and nod.

His lips begin trailing up your thighs, a shiver running through you from his tender actions. “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” He pauses, shifting closer as he switches sides, now leaving open mouth kisses along your opposite thigh. “It is the East, and Juliet is the sun.”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat as he works his way to your clothed center, his eyes flicking up to look at you. “Arise, fair sun and kill the envious moon… and whatever the fuck else Romeo says.” Eddie chuckles before eagerly pressing his mouth against your clothed pussy, his tongue lapping at the wet spot on the cotton.

A gasp bubbles deep in your throat at the sensation, feeling the bliss of his tongue through the cotton barrier, your body easing up from its nervous state.

He looks up at you, “Good, huh?” He hums through the fabric, and you’re wound up so tight you’re already panting.

He taps the side of your thigh to get you to lift your hips, removing your panties in the process.

A low whistle escapes him as you spread your legs for him again, “Talk about eating in costume, baby, jeez.” He chuckles, and the joke makes you laugh too.

A short lived laugh at that, turning into a breathless gasp when his tongue makes contact as he begins to lap up the length of your pussy.

Your hand immediately goes to tug at his curls, not caring that they’re tied up and out of his face to be able to see the cue sheets. The delicious pull at his scalp makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.

A low moan falls out of your lips, catching yourself, hand flying to your mouth as you hear the rest of the cast clamoring outside.

“Gotta be quiet, Lady Capulet,” he snickers as he goes back to burying his face between your legs. His tongue darting in and out of you as a hand reaches for your mouth, wetting two of his fingers.

You don’t hesitate to open up your mouth for him, a bite at the juncture between your pelvis and your thigh, “Atta girl.” He mumbles against the wet skin, popping his fingers out of your mouth to tease at your entrance.

“That’s it baby, focus on me.” A whine escapes you as you’re now grinding on his tongue, his fingers enter you slowly, head thrown back in pleasure.

“You nervous, baby?” He asks, a cocky smile on his face. His fingers curl upward, your eyes squeeze at the overwhelming sensation.

You shake your head, still sentient. Not too far gone yet.

“You gonna use me to get off, my lady?” His fingers are pumping faster, feeling tears brimming on your waterline, hoping to not spill all over your face, your stage makeup seems to be in precarious conditions.

A familiar warmth, deep in the pool of your tummy, “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop” You know how much he likes to hear you sing for him. His spare hand grabs onto your thigh, rings biting the soft skin there, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.

“Thaaaat’s it, you’re doing so well,” he whispers. One more pump of his fingers and you cum with a silent cry, biting onto your hand, feeling yourself pulsate around his fingers.

Without much warning he slips them out, sucking on his own fingers, tasting your own delicious essence.

“Places!” You hear Miss George say backstage, as Eddie retrieves your panties for you and slips them up your legs.

Eddie fixes his hair in the mirror, tying them back. He places a kiss on your cheek with a hurried, “Good luck— uh fuck I meant break a leg.” Then he furtively leaves the dressing room.

You feel a blush spreading across your body, finally relaxed and ready to begin the show.

You leave the dressing room, joining the rest of the cast, full of excitement. You know all your love monologues are going to be directed towards a certain metalhead tonight.

The show goes smoothly and you don’t forget a single line, you’re surrounded by family and friends, ready to do it all again the day after.

You go back into the dressing rooms to grab your stuff and change, but a long mop of curly hair occupies your chair.

“Eddie, you can’t be here!” you whisper, as he turns around with the biggest smile plastered on his face.

“Just wanted to tell my girl congratulations in private. You smashed it tonight,” you blush at the nickname.

“Since when am I your girl?” you ask, not letting him see how much it affected you.

“Since you kissed me in my van when I dropped you off, gorgeous.” He flirts, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth.

“So, how about that date?”

thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

tagging: @thornsnvultures, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @duuhrayliegh, @ali-r3n, @sunnythevampireslayer, @bimbobaggins69, @jamdoughnutmagician, @eiightysixbaby, @aphrogeneias, @daisy-munson, @gravedigginbbydoll, @s6raphic, @take-everything-you-can, @strangerstilinski

[smallestapplin]

Do you think Overlord from transformers would be type of guy "I love kinda of woman who can beat the sh t out of me"

Ok ok soo i imagine cybertronian reader who was able to beat the sh t out of Overlord who's now in love with cybertronian reader.

What would her team aka the lost light would react to this 😂😂

This had me cackling. Also I apologize I know you said fem but I don't know how to make the gender important to the story (I'm gender blind I'm so sorry.)

-

-

- you beating Overlord's aft was a miracle and a half. You utilized his pride and slowness against him, though struggling more than you'd like to admit, you managed to out pace him and put the large bot in his place.

- "I don't know what I did! I beat his aft and now he won't leave me alone! I even tell him off and that just seems to get him more interested!" Is what you cry to Rodimus about.

- "I'm gonna be real with you, I don't know how to help you with that. I mean, at least he's not going off the rails and starting fights?" It's all he's got. You know he's right, but it doesn't help you one bit, so yog end up groaning and slumping over in your seat. Roddy tries to pat your back and show you some cool earth thing he has, before Overlord finds you, and coos about how worried he was when you weren't in your habsuite, and glares at Rodimus.

- Overlord still tries to fight everyone, and by Primus Megatron gets it the worst, but he's happy all that's needed is for you to angrily yell Overlord's name and call him back like a dog. Megatron always breathes a sigh of relief when your enraged voice echoes through the room, calling for Overlord to "bring you aft over here right now, I swear to primus if I have to put down my report!-" and watch as the equally large bot instantly drops his fighting stance, rushing over to you, looking far too happy and pleased to be called by you (even if you aren't'.)

- You're tired, you just want to do you job and go about your day, not wake up from a statis to the large blue mech over you, holding a thing of energon for you and asking to spar.

- Ratchet and First Aid hear and see it the most, and believe Ratchet gives you high an audio processor full. You send Overlord to the med bay frequently, and he can't even scold the bot into being more careful cause he's not even listening! He has to deal with Overlord staring at you and not even hearing him.

- First Aid tries to help in that regard, explaining to you that this is getting out of servo, but Overlord nearly throws a medical berth at him for it, only stopping when you glare at him.

- "I fight him, he likes it, I ignore him, he likes that too! Nothing I do sends the massage home for him."

- Ultra Magnus wants to help, trust him he does! This is classified as harassment and he swore to always help his crew members....but....you are literally the only thing keeping Overlord docile, and First Aid and Rodimus have already reported that Overlord does try to swing at them for interfering.

It's safer for everyone to not, after all you seem to handle yourself just fine! You're a strong bot that can handle one of the strongest gladiators in history! He lets you vent as much as you need, but eventually has to tell you he can help once Overlord oversteps.

- Lucky you, you don't have to worry about that. Overlord is obsessed with beating you in battle, but also he loves fighting you, you carry yourself with such strength and confidence once against him, he's smitten. With your speed, to him, it makes your battles feel like a dance! Your movements and skill have him smitten, as does your attitude, your fire and sass have him weak in the knees.

- Prowl is somehow your only ride or die here, he's more worried about what Overlord could do but doesn't think before shouting at him to give you space or to frag off, the temperamental officer goes into protective mode when it comes to you.

- Overlord does not like Prowl because of this, but you cling to your friend in thanks.

- "It's every damn cycle, don't you have a hobby!? Frag I don'tknow, watch a movie, pick up blacksmithing, SOMETHING!" Prowl barely has time to dodge a swift punch, but he manages, and next thing you know there does the fourth table of the week, followed by more shouting, and you having to yell for Overlord to knock it off.

- Rung is definitely getting good use as a therapist, he's trying his best to give you coping skills to help ease your frustrations with your situation, and while they work, you just come back to tell him you came back to your habsuite to Overlord on your berth, and pulling you into his lap.

- "It's rude he didn't ask before doing so."

- "AND THEN HE ASKED TO SPARK BOND, CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT!?"

- "Oh my, he asked to spark bond-"

- Even just trying to have a professional conversation with you turns into a chore, not because of you, but because of the angry look guard dog standing behind you, glaring down at anyone speaking to you.

[noearchives]

sober me up

(what happens when the one piece boys are drunk?)

characters: portgas d. ace, trafalgar d. water law, sanji.

note: personally i've never been drunk enough to the point where i lose my mind or anything like that ... so this is just based off of my imagination and stuff i see in movies ;;

cw/ tags: gender neutral reader, mentions of alcohol, unestablished relationship, mutual pining.

portgas d. ace

"woah,” ace whispers, head tilted to one side as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes, saying your name in the same way he did when he met you for the first time.“is that really you?”

you're not sure if he’s putting up an act to flirt, or if he’s actually so drunk to the point where he can’t tell his imagination from reality. not knowing how to reply, you hand him a glass of water in a fluster in hopes that he’ll sober up, and he downs the entire thing in one go, mistaking it for liquor.

“wow,” ace says again, awestruck. it’s like his eyes are put in a spell to look at nothing else but you. his reaches for your face, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. nonsense runs off his tongue as he stumbles deep into your gaze in spirals. “you're so pretty i could kiss you.”

he pauses. “can i?”

fuck it, you think. he’s drunk out of his mind, you're tipsy enough to use it as an excuse. it won't hurt if you kissed your best friend who you’ve been pining for since the dawn of time when he won't even remember anything the day after, right?

so you agree to his request, and ace wastes no time with how quickly he slides his tongue into your mouth just after two seconds of his lips meeting yours— it’s like he doesn't want you to breathe.

when he finally lets go of you, you gasp like a fish out of water while he looks at you stupidly. his mind is filled with you, you, you. one kiss isn't enough to satisfy him— he’s been dreaming of this for months, afterall. with both hands on either side of your face, he makes a bold statement once again.

“let’s do that again.”

trafalgar d. water law

law doesn't drink much, but he can't say no to his crew when they offer. initially, he planned to stay sober for the rest of the night to look after all of you, but as shachi and penguin continue to pour him drink after drink, his head grows heavier with every sip of liquor.

he stays quiet even when he’s drunk. no bold confessions, no impulsive acts, nothing. he just watches his crew drink themselves stupid, the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

with the loud hustle of the bar and the deafening laughter of your crewmates, it’s hard to notice how intoxicated law has become until you feel a foreign weight on your shoulder. a white fur hat lands on your lap, and you only realise your captain’s resting his head on you with his eyes closed then.

“captain?” you say. your heart’s beating out of your chest. “captain, you're drunk.”

“i know.” he mumbles in reply, looking silly with his cheek squished against your shoulder.

“let me get you some water.” you try to move out of your seat, but your body doesn't budge. law’s arm holds you down firmly, and you feel the skin under his touch tingle. “captain," you say again, weaker this time. you're not sure if your lungs are working properly with how he's rendered you breathless. "you've gotta let me go," you say, betraying your heart.

"no," law mumbles against you. his hold on you tightens, and you swear he's nuzzling into your neck.

at that point, you decide that he's had one too many and that he needs to be sobered up or else he'd be in a sour mood the morning after. you awkwardly prop his arm on your shoulders as you drag him back to the polar tang with the knowing gazes of your crewmates on your backs, your captain's hat in your hand as you strain to support his weight.

"ah, young love." penguin sighs.

sanji

being an absolute lightweight, sanji's already swaying with his tie off and a few buttons undone after two shots.

"oh, my love." he sing-songs. my love? you raise an eyebrow at the nickname. "the way you look at me makes my stomach flip. your eyes are brighter than the stars, and the way you say my name tugs at my heartstrings. would you make a poor man like me happy by just looking his way?" he rambles, freestyling a verbal love letter for you right then and there. you've heard him do the same for robin and nami, but never for you. (until now, of course.)

the crew's swordsman physically cringes in second-hand embarrassment. "curly, do all of us a favor and shut that mouth of yours."

miraculously, sanji doesn't retort like he usually does. instead, he takes your hand in his as he continues his weird love poem. "if only this wasn't a dream, and i had the courage to confess my love for you in the real world. alas!"

... and he starts crying. actual tears rolling down his cheeks and everything. "but i know you would never love a pathetic man like me!" he sobs into your lap, kneeling before you as your ship's navigator averts her gaze out of embarrassment, grumbling about how her efforts of keeping his secret are wasted.

though ridiculously stupid, his confession made your heart stop. after all this time, it turns out that he's equally as smitten as you are when you thought his heart belonged to someone else. (it's hard not to assume with the way he behaves around good-looking women.)

"why did nobody tell me...?" you ask, looking around as the strawhats look away with a supressed grin.

"because he said he'll kick our asses if any of us said anything. geez, both of you are so stupid. can't you see the way he makes those disgusting heart eyes at you every time you pass by?" the swordsman grumbles.

sanji's arms are still tightly wrapped around your waist after he's done with his improv love poem. "you're so warm, even in my dreams..." he mumbles. it seems like he still hasn't realized this isn't a dream.

the two of you are going to have a looooong talk when he sobers up, you're sure.

[anthurak]

So with everything we learned and saw in Episode 4 from Angel, Valentino, Charlie and Husk, here’s a little theory on how the Hotel crew saving Angel from Valentino might play out. Particularly in how Husk’s status as a former Overlord may factor into things.

Because I have a hunch it’s actually going to be Husk, rather than Charlie who gets fed up first and goes out to make a real attempt at getting Angel away from Valentino, given everything we saw between Husk and Angel in this episode. Specifically, Husk aims to lure Valentino into gambling for Angel’s contract.

Now that raises the question of what exactly Husk could gamble with. I see two possibilities:

Option One, Husk full on bluffs Valentino that he still has substantial power as an Overlord and has been hiding it all this time, tempting him with more souls and power. And as we’ve seen most notably in Episode 2, Val in kind of a massive fucking idiot, so I could see him actually falling for this. Essentially, Husk gambles with nothing, save his own soul, for a chance to save Angel.

Option Two, Husk actually gets his power BACK from Alastor. Specifically through fulfilling some mysterious, nebulous condition Alastor set up for him. It could even be that this is what sets up Husk to gamble Val for Angel’s freedom. Alastor returns Husk’s power as an Overlord because he’s curious as to what Husk will do with it now. Which we see, is putting it all on the line again for a chance to save Angel.

Whichever way we get to it, we find Husk in a high-stakes card game with Valentino. And of course, Husk does the classic trope of NOT telling his friends or even the guy he’s doing this for what he’s doing to ‘keep them safe’ and all that. Of course, they do find out. Which will come into play later…

As for the all-important gamble; Husk actually does WIN legitimately against Valentino. However, because Valentino is… well, Valentino he welches on the deal and attacks Husk, and perhaps a recently arrived Angel as well.

Now in the event that Husk was bluffing Valentino the whole time and is actually helpless against a fully-powered Overlord, this would be when Alastor, from afar, actually returns Husk’s own power as an Overlord as some offhand, magnanimous whim. Which of course now allows Husk to actually fight back against Valentino.

What ensues is a full and proper fight between Husk/Angel and Valentino, with all the requisite emotional drama of Angel and Husk admitting their feelings for each other and all of Valentino’s shittiness as a person coming out in force. Maybe like an mlm version of the Bees vs. Adam fight.

However, despite getting his power as an Overlord back, Husk ultimately turns out to not be as powerful as Valentino. Alternatively, perhaps he never gets his power back at all and we just skip to here from Husk winning the bet. Whichever way we get here, Husk and Angel are now at the non-existent mercy of Valentino.

Which is precisely when CHARLIE shows up.

And I imagine what ensues plays out in a flash. Like everyone is only just registering that Charlie has appeared when suddenly everything is on fire. We get only the briefest glimpses, perhaps only in silhouette, of the full-sized horns on Charlie’s head, the great leathery wings coming out of her back and the pitchfork in her hand before she has Valentino by the throat and the mothman starts BURNING, screaming in pain as he is consumed in hellfire.

Basically, I feel that after this episode we are going to see Husk be the one to step up first to try and save Angel from Valentino, given everything we saw between the pair this episode. But at the same time, I think the interactions between Charlie and Valentino, particularly Charlie starting to transform in rage, sets her up as the one who’s going to ultimately put Val down. Specifically via giving us a glimpse at Charlie’s true power.

And I do say glimpse because I imagine the full and proper reveal of Charlie’s ‘Devil Form’ is almost certainly going to be saved for when she’s forced to take on the likes of Adam and the Exorcists, the ones who have been set-up as proper antagonists to Charlie herself.

[genderless-naper]

tattooed fingers

trafalgar law x alt!strawhat!reader

tw: slight choking, jealous law hehe

wc: 1.5k, lowercase intended !

a remark about his fingers might leave you feeling speechless

the crew was lively as usual traveling the seas on the sunny. everything was where it was meant to be except for one unknown variable: trafalgar law. the current alliance your captain accepted without much thought was questioned by all your crew mates. still they held hope in their captains decisions, and welcomed the unknown pirate on the ship. it was obvious he wasn’t much of an engager; especially when he gave blunt responses to any of the crew mates attempts of conversation.

instead he was an observer. specifically an observer of you. you stood out in the group of pirates. it was hard for him to avoid looking at you. your confident demeanor, your bold personality, and your style of clothes were all setting his attraction levels on an all time high.

he fought hard to push away the thought of your fishnets clinging to your thighs, and how he would rip them open to do unspeakable things to you. he tried to deny any sense of captivation, but when he sees your choker hugging your neck he becomes angered that it isn’t his hand choking you instead. his attempts to ignore you seemed impossible with the way your boots clanked against the deck boards. the strain it put on him to imagine how you two would sound with one of your legs held in the air and him in between.

at the end of the day it didn’t matter. you were a strawhat, so he did the best thing to make sure you stayed away from him.

he never responded to you. he never looked at you when you talked to him. he never addressed you when he talked to the group. he needed to make sure you didn’t get close to him so he wouldn’t fall for you more than he has. he buried his feelings inside him in hopes they would go away on their own.

during the day you decide to show off the new garter belt you were gifted to your crew. you were excited to finally open it up and try it on. the belt wrapped around your waist perfectly and connected with a section that hugged one of your thighs. you tightened it as you expressed your excitement to your crew. nico robin had gotten it for you knowing it would fit your wardrobe perfectly. your sense of style made her your biggest admirer (second to law). you thanked her with a big smile.

after cooping himself within the sunny the tattooed man surfaces to the deck solely for a refill of his coffee cup. during his coffee breaks he did his best to avoid you. he made the grave mistake of overhearing your conversation with nico robin about the garner belt. his eyes gazed over to your figure, and the leather belt wrapped around it. he couldn’t stop looking you up and down while fighting his feelings from resurfacing. he watched as you two laughed together effortlessly, and how she tighten the belt for you. she was dangerously close to you for his comfort.

after your laughing fit with the woman you finally saw law glaring down nico robin. after constant horrible interactions you’ve found yourself to heavily dislike the man standing near you. you crossed your arms as you spoke to him in annoyance, “can we help you? the kitchen is that way you caffeinated freak.” you pointed to the kitchen on the other side.

law snaps out of his thoughts. in an attempt to hide his emotions he responds without much thought, “so why exactly are you dressed so edgy?”

you rolled your eyes at the pure hypocrisy coming from him, “says the guy who has ‘death’ tattooed on his fingers on both hands. youre the most edgiest man i’ve ever met.”

law glances down at his fingers as a realization hits him. the reason he was so drawn to you was you two shared so many similarities. having nothing left to exchange with this man you turn back to nico robin and continue your conversation.

he spent the rest of the day trying to steal glances of you, but them just being ruined by you being so close to nico robin. he didn’t understand why you were so attached to her. if he couldnt have you then why should she?

he hated the way your conversations flowed so perfectly. how you could talk to her for hours and she would just admire you. he especially hated when you touched her arm while laughing at her joke. if he couldn’t experience those things when why could she?

it went on for the rest of the day. the two of you becoming closer and closer. the sharing of intimate platonic energy went well into the night as well.

the last thing that broke his patience completely was went she asked you if you’d like the stargaze with her. he looked at you in disbelief when you agreed excitedly. he expected you to reject the offer. a ting of jealousy crawled up his throat as you laid close to her to share a blanket. she pointed to the different constellations to show you.

“look there y/n” she points to the sky at a group of stars. you tried to follow her finger to the stars and she talks, “thats called the andromeda constellation.”

“robin i dont know what youre pointing at!” you pout slightly. nico robin takes a hold your face to help you look at the constellation properly as she connects the stars together, “do you see it now y/n?”

you nod fast, “its so pretty robin!”

the women smiled softly while starring at you, “its pretty just like you y/n.”

you blush slightly. before you had the chance to respond you hear footsteps approaching you both.

law had enough of seeing robin all over you. he could deal with you two talking and laughing together, but laying under the stars together while she called you pretty? thats where he drew the line.

he towered over you. your annoyance all starting to come back again from earlier in the day. you sat up ready to shoot him a sassy remark before you feel him grab your arm and pull you up. you try to tug your arm away, “let go of me trafalgar! what the hell do y-“

before you could process whats happening you find a blue bubble engulf you both. law activated his power to get you both away and somewhere more private.

he mumbled in annoyance not expecting you to hear, “i couldn’t stand watching her all over you like that.”

you raised a brow, “all over me? what are you talking about?? thats just how we are. not that its any if your business anyways!” you yank your arm back and cross it.

a fire lights in his eyes as he narrows them at you slowly, “so you’re both all over each other all the time..? are you serious y/n-ya?”

you were confused at his sudden acts. he was making you feel like you did something wrong. the memories of law ignoring you or being rude still fresh in your mind. you scoffed, “i don’t know what the hell you’re trying to say right now.”

law shot back without thinking, “i’m saying you need to stop that shit right now. i don’t want you cuddled up with someone watching the stars. i’m sick and tired of being in the background having to accept you be gifted stuff like this.” he loops a finger in the belt around your waist to pull you closer to him, “i like you too much for you to be tainted by these other people.”

you were shocked at the words coming out his mouth. he was probably just as shocked as you were, but the jealousy was overriding his chances of thinking logically. the thought of nico robin’s arm around your waist or the way she grabbed your face burned fresh in his mind. you pushed him away with annoyance setting back in, “all this caffeine is driving you insane.”

he shook his head, “you’re the one driving me insane y/n-ya” at this point he realized he couldn’t lock his thoughts away anymore. there was no going back, but did he really wanna go back when you stood in front of him looking so perfect?

he slowly raised his hand to your neck. he felt you tense as he brushes his fingertips against the skin above your choker. he stared at it with envy before he speaks in a commanding tone, “take this off.”

you hesitated to follow his instructions. you slowly open the clasp and take it off. the difference of having it off didn’t last long once it was replaced with law’s hand gripping your neck gently.

he smirked as he rubbed his thumb along a vein pressing on it slightly, “so what exactly were you saying about my tattooed fingers?”

[innerfare]

Smutty Beckman Headcanons 

Summary: A collection of NSFW headcanons for Benn Beckman

Genre: pure smut

CW: big dick Beckman, daddy kink, marathon runner Beckman, sloppy kisses, bondage, mating press

———

Daddy. Don’t even bother calling him anything else. 

Doesn’t view hookups as ideal. Deep down, he’s a kind and sensitive man who forms attachments and values loyalty. Nevertheless, he avoids relationships, realizing that getting close to a woman simply isn’t fair considering who he is and the danger that comes with it. Tends not to indulge in trysts unless he’s desperate. 

When he does finally choose someone, he usually has quite a bit of pent energy up to let out. Much more of a marathon runner than a sprinter. Sex with him is nightly and all night. He's not into quickies, though he'll agree to one if there's no other choice (typically prefers oral sex for quickies though).

Is so bad at being selfish. Despite Shanks’ insistence that one night stands are not supposed to last more than thirty minutes, Beckman simply cannot stop and go. As such, he has quite the reputation with the ladies on the islands the crew visits repeatedly. 

Has the biggest dick on the Red Force, which is another reason he's not one for quick one night stands. It's simply unfair not to go down on his partner before putting his dick in them. Even if he wanted to be selfish, he couldn't be.

He doesn’t want to share- no threesomes, no exhibitionism, no voyeurism, not even a few words uttered to Shanks when his captain asks for details. There aren’t many secrets on a pirate ship, but he’ll square up with anyone who tries to find out the details of his sex life. The only info the crew gets are from swooning partners who rave about him.  

The crew knows better than to go after one of Beckman's old partners. Once a Beckman girl, always a Beckman girl. If they get married after sleeping with him and then he returns to their island, well... divorce might just follow for one more night with the first mate of the Red Hair Pirates.

Loves it when you feel him up, especially if you sit in his lap while you do it. Neck, chest, shoulders, arms, hands, and all of it over again. His favorite is when you get annoyed with his clothing and order him to take off his shirt. He always likes to imagine teasing you in this scenario, but as soon as you demand he strip down, he obliges. 

Size kink. Wants to be able to wrap his hands around your thighs and waist like you're his little doll. Won't bully you with his size, though (not too much, at least). A little into choking, but he doesn't squeeze very hard; it's just about the size of his hand on your throat for him.

Loves a sensual blowjob, the kind where you squeeze his calves and rub his abdomen and suck slowly on his balls. But also the kind where you choke on his massive cock and he dabs the tears from the corner of your eyes.

He'll talk dirty to you, especially when you suck him off, telling you that you're such a good girl, doing such a good job, he's so proud of you, etc. Again, the man's daddy af.

Biting and licking are all fine and good, but he loves kisses- sloppy kisses on the mouth, that thing you do where you kiss his lips and then kiss his cheek immediately after, sweet kisses on his biceps and pecs, you get the idea. 

Enjoys tying you up, usually binding your hands with his belt. Also keeps a coil of rope in his bedroom if he wants to get creative with it. He especially likes binding your hands and then fucking you against the wall so you're depending completely on him to hold you up.

Favorite position (by a long shot) is a mating press. He wants you folded up underneath him, unable to move and completely at his mercy. He’s a deep stroke kind of guy, too.

That being said, he really enjoys it when you ride him slowly. He wants to sit back against the headboard with his massive hands on your waist, watching you roll your hips against his and struggling to take his full length. When you're in this position, he'll smoke a cigarette, sometimes shotgunning the smoke into your open mouth.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[magnificentstrawberryomen]

halloween party (noah sebastian x reader)

18+, mdni, nsfw, Ghostface and Halloween-themed

It is October 31st, meaning it is both Halloween and my room mate Noah’s birthday. Every year we celebrate it at the same time, along with me, the rest of the band and some other friends and crew-members.

I start to get ready, and I had decided I wanted to be an attractive vampire this year for Halloween. I wear a fancy white blouse with a black leather corset on top, with rose detailed designs on it, making it look chic like and perfect for the costume. Underneath that I wear a short leather skirt, black thin tights and long, warm black socks for over my matching leather boots, detailed with spikes and chains. My black hair is styled a bit messy and my make up is dark with red, matching with the blood colored lipstick on my lips, that I smug a bit on the edges. When I look at the reflection of the mirror, I look satisfied and am ready for the party.

When I leave my room to head downstairs, I hear Noah's door open and close, making me smile in excitement.

“Hey birthday guy—“

I want to greet him, but as soon as I see what he is dressed up this year, which is Ghostface, I am stuck in my tracks. My lips part as I slightly swallow, my eyes taking in Noah, feeling my cheeks slowly flush. No way he is dressed up as Ghostface, my all time favorite horror character, someone I secretly swoon about sometimes, since I might… have a thing for masks.

Noah clearly notices me eyeing him up and down, as he then amusingly asks, “Like what you see, y/n?” His voice is a bit muffled by the mask.

“Eh, yeah, you—you look very cool as Ghostface,” I stumble, swallowing once again, quickly tucking strands of hair behind my ear as I then move past him, downstairs down to the kitchen, making me suddenly very aware how short my skirt is again as I move.

He follows me down to the kitchen, feeling his stare burning behind me, feeling like it's completely taking me in, making me heat up even more.

“When will the others arrive again?” I then ask once we are in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water out of our fridge and taking some quick gulps. Our kitchen and living room is decorated and in the Halloween spirit, something I loved to do for Noah since I love both decorating and Halloween.

Noah stands next to me, and I notice a slight smile present on his face under the mask by the bright lights in the kitchen, looking around at my decorations as well. “You have outdid yourself this year once again,” he comments, before remembering my question. “They should be here in like 20 minutes.”

I smile up at him, appreciating his compliment. “Thank you, always try my best.”

I turn to put the bottle back into the fridge, and when I then turn back around to Noah again, his mask is off, revealing his messy hair that is slightly pulled back, and in combination with the gloves and robe he is wearing I almost choke in my own breath.

“Jesus Christ,” I then mumble underneath my breath as a I move myself to the couch before I can embarass myself even more.

Noah and I have been roommates for a year now, being kind enough to rent and share his space with me, and if I’m being honest I have found him attractive from the start. But since we became good friends and he is mostly away on the road with his band, I decided to let the possibility of something more blooming between us go.

Noah lets out a low chuckle as he notices me looking flustered as he sits down right beside me, clearly being very much aware of the effect he has on me. “You okay?” he asks, a slight smile on his face as he tilts his head at me.

“Yeah,” I mumble, as I then watch him for a moment, my eyes ranking down to his costume again. “I can imagine that being warm inside,” I then nod to his outfit, flushing once again, so I quickly flick my eyes down to my lap. Damn, I hate being so flustered so fucking easily—I shouldn’t and I know that it’s wrong, but he looks even ten times hotter with that damn costume on.

He raises an eyebrow at my comment. “You’re not wrong,” he shrugs, before he lets his eyes move down to my outfit as well.

“I can imagine yours is a bit heavy as well,” he then comments, his eyes raking over my corset.

“Oh, it's okay,” I shrug with a sheepish smile, looking down at my white blouse and corset on top. “There’s a chance that I’ll take the blouse from underneath the corset off later this evening though, since the house will be pretty crowded and stuff.”

Noah nods slowly at my statement, the image seeming to flash before his eyes for a moment. “Maybe I should take my robe off for the same reason,” he then jokingly comments, winking in my direction, before he gets up from the couch again, heading to the kitchen to get himself something to drink.

Oh, you definitely should, I mentally think to myself, feeling heated by his wink, and then quickly shake the thought away in embarrassment.

Twenty minutes later, Noah’s friends and band members arrive, all wishing him a happy birthday and some of my friends join us later. Even though Noah insisted that he did not want some special moment with a cake and candles he had to blow out, we of course did exactly that, and even though he rolled his eyes and pretended to be grumpy with his arms crossed in front of his chest, I could tell by the sparkle in his eyes that he secretly enjoyed it.

Later that evening, I’m sitting on the couch talking with some friends, laughing and drinking, and I feel Noah stealing some glances from me sometimes, making me blush and I stare back whenever I have the confidence. Now he just smugly smiles a bit, leaning against the counter with his Ghostmask off again, gloves wrapped around his beer, and my mind already goes to the most unholiest things so quickly—how the cold of the leather gloves would feel around my throat for example—

I clear my throat and quickly shake the thoughts away, trying to concentrate on the conversation with my friends again, mentally slapping myself against the head. I'm the worst.

But then, I feel someone sitting next to me, and almost jump when it's Noah, looking at me with an amused expression and some glint in his eyes that I can’t quite unravel yet.

“Noah,” I smile, “hi.”

He lifts his beer at me in a greeting gesture before smirking and turning his full attention to me. “How are you enjoying the party, Little Vampire?” he asks, coming up with a nickname right there on the spot, making me both blush in amusement and flattery.

He then leans back into the couch with a slight grin, before taking a sip from his drink. “Nice to see you didn’t cover your neck tonight.”

I can’t help but chuckle at his little joking comment. “Well, could say the same about the people around me, right? Need something to feed from after all,” I joke back.

He amusingly laughs at my remark, for sure noticing the redness once again spreading across my cheeks by the way his eyes seem to gleam even more.

Noah then leans in a little, making me let out an uncontrollable nervous breath, his eyes lingering on my lips for a moment before he looks into my eyes again, a mischievous glint now in his own dark ones.

“But have you found someone to feed of off yet? You’ve been eyeing me all night I’ve noticed.”

My eyes widen a little as he says that, my heart racing up a little, and I sheepishly smile at him.

“Have I? Oh—“

I blink as I don't know how to get the words out of my throat for a moment, and then proceed to quickly shake my head as my blush keeps spreading on my face, answering his question. “I have not found someone yet to feed, no—“

A smirk plays on Noah's lips as he notices my reaction, deciding to take it one step further. “Well you know… since it’s my birthday, I can give you a gift…” he then whispers into my ear.

Goosebumps appear on my skin as heat spreads now almost everywhere in my body at this point, and I slightly gasp at the feeling of one of his leather gloves then sliding up on my thigh.

“Aren’t people supposed to give you a gift when its their birthday?” I then answer back, looking at him through my lashes, the feeling of him squeezing the flesh of my thigh as well already unraveling so much inside of me already.

He lets out a playful hum, letting his hand travel further up now to my hip. He leans even more forward, his dark brown eyes trained on my lips again first before looking back into my eyes.

Then to my surprise he brushes his lips past my ear, his breath grazing my skin, making me hold my own. “Well… my birthday wish from you is to give me what you want most.”

A shaky breath escapes from my with red, blood colored painted lips, and I slightly turn my head to his face so our noses slightly brush against each other, faces dangerously close, making me able to feel his soft breathing through his nose brushing against my face.

I decide its now or never, wanting to take this chance, wanting him.

“How about you help a helpless vampire out and be my victim for tonight?” I whisper back, smiling slightly.

A slight grin forms on Noah's face as he hears my request. Leaning back a little he locks eyes with me for a moment before standing up, holding out his hand. “Follow me.”

With both nerves and excitement I take his hand, letting him pull me along towards the staircase that leads up to our apartments bedrooms, my heart pounding in my chest as we walk up side by side.

My mind is already spinning with nerves, desire and excitement. As soon as we reach his bedroom, he closes it behind us once we are in, and when he places his Ghostface mask back on his face again my eyes slightly widen, and the arousal between my legs begins to spread. Oh, he knows what he’s doing.

Then, Noah grabs me and pins me against his door, his hands resting behind me on each side of my body. He tilts my head at him, the mask making him look somewhat scary and yet mysterious—mysterious enough for me to become more flustered than ever. His eyes wander down to my lips, seeing the need to press them against mine but he clearly wants the game to continue first, just a little bit longer—by sliding his knee up between my legs, resting between my thighs.

I whimper as he does that, heart racing even more, and I need to hold onto his biceps for support because of the heat already being spread between my thighs, making me light headed with desire—and of course his biceps feel hard and trained, just like they normally already look like, and it makes me ache for him even more.

Noah smirks at the feeling of me holding onto him. “Already so needy and wanting for me,” he says into my ear, his hands sliding down my sides, feeling the lace of my corset underneath his fingers. He presses up against me with his knee to gain a little bit more friction against my core, making me let out another gasp.

“Noah,” I can’t help but gasp out his name, making me flush a little.

He leans his face against my neck, slowly taking off his mask again to let his lips hovering over my skin, his breath grazing the area gently, before pressing a small peck to the skin. “I can only imagine the sounds I can get out of you tonight.”

His teeth tug at my earlobe, before moving down towards my jawline, placing another kiss there. I groan, then wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him even more against me, making me able to feel his excitement growing, and it makes everything inside of me flush and heat up, and the desire for him grow. The thought that I’m the one that makes him feel this needy, makes me feel even more worked up.

Noah's hips push against mine, his head now buried in my neck, kissing the skin, even teasingly biting the skin at various places, not hard enough to cause any real harm, but enough to cause red marks that’ll stay for a while.

“Aren’t I the vampire here though?” I can’t help but teasingly grin at that.

Pulling his face out from my neck he looks into my eyes, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smirk as I say that. “I think you’re forgetting that tonight is my birthday, not yours, little vampire, and I get to do what I want… and right now, all I want is you.” He leans in towards my face, his lips just inches away from mine—so close, yet so far.

“And this is only the beginning of your gift to me.”

My doe eyes widen as I look up to him, eager and desperate, and I still stubbornly lean to his neck despite his words, placing a few kisses before marking some bits of his skin. I feel him shiver underneath my touch, a low groan escaping his lips, making my heart beat even faster.

When I pull back with a smug smile, I say, “Vampires still need to be fed, birthday or not.”

He takes a small step back from me, his dark eyes raking over my body slowly, a smirk creeping on his face. “Take off the corset.”

The fast beating of my heart goes up to the pulse of my neck as he asks me that, a confirmation of where I hoped this night between us would go, and I quickly nod as I then take off the corset, leaving me in just my thin white blouse, revealing the outline of my chest, and a fire builds up in the pit of my stomach by the way he watches my every move.

Noah then takes a slow step towards me, placing his hands on my hips and pulling me close towards him, hips rubbing against mine again. I start to breathe heavily, hands trembling as I feel nervous yet excited.

Lifting my chin, he presses kisses to my jawline again, nipping at the skin here and there as well and it makes me softly moan, the other hand slowly moving up to my chest, as it goes underneath the fabric of my blouse. I enjoy the feeling of his warm, large hand there, making a ragged breath escape from my lips.

His fingers graze across my collarbone, feeling my skin underneath, and the touch is so light, almost like a feather is touching me. His lips trace up from my neck to my ear, nibbling on my earlobe gently again. Then, he takes a step back, my eyes locked with his, before he speaks.

“Get on the bed, now.”

I eagerly nod at him, walking towards his bed, sitting down at it and already taking and kicking off my own boots without him having to ask me to, since I’m getting desperate and needy for him by the minute—I’ve fantasized about a moment like this for embarrassingly too long, and now that it’s finally happening I want it now.

Noah then watches me lay down on his bed, eyes raking over my frame, taking in what was going to be his gift for tonight. He walks over to me before straddling my hips, taking his gloves off with his teeth before letting them fall onto the ground. The sight of him doing that makes my eyes nearly pop out, it being one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.

Leaning down, Noah places teasing kisses on my cheek, then jaw, and slowly moving down to my neck again, his hands working on unbuttoning my blouse. His lips kiss every little part of exposed skin down from my neck, to my collarbones and then down to my chest, making me whimper and shift my hips against the mattress in anticipation—and I already feel like I'm getting taken to cloud nine.

He lets his tongue run across my skin, tasting me as he unbuttons the last few buttons of my blouse, making me gasp. He pushes the fabric off my arms and down onto the floor, then pulling back, looking down and taking in the sight of my skin and exposed chest. He licks his lips as his hands glide up to my sides, caressing the soft skin.

“So, so gorgeous,” he whispers in the dark, almost more towards himself it seems, his eyes drifting back up to meet mine after.

It feels like I’m exploding with fuel and desire inside, being lit up with every touch and look of him, making my heart hammer inside of my chest from nerves but especially excitement. My hips start to grind against his a bit, making me able to press a little against his bulge, and I have to bite back a amused smile by that, as I feel myself drooling between my legs by the feeling at the same time.

A low groan escapes Noah's lips as he looks back down between the both of us, getting stimulated by my movements. His lips then find my jaw again, teeth scraping the skin before pulling back to look into my eyes. He gives me a dark, smug look before he stands up from the bed, his hands slowly taking off his robe and the long sleeved shirt he wears underneath, letting it slide down his body as it falls to the ground by his feet. “Tell me how much you want me, sweetheart, so I can give you everything and more.”

And Jesus fucking Christ—he’s a sight, a goddamn hot, tattooed and worked out sight as I let my eyes roam over his exposed chest, flushing madly by it

“I want you,” I whisper as my eyes go back to his own darkened ones again, “for so long. Even more… like this.”

His lips curve into a smile as he slowly steps back towards me again, moving his hands down to his pants, slowly unbuckling the belt while looking into my eyes that slightly widen in anticipation. “How long have you waited for this?”

“Too long to admit,” I mumble, my eyes going down to his belt. “It's embarrassing.”

Noah slides his pants down his legs along with his underwear, letting them fall to the floor as well before slowly climbing on the bed, hovering over me once again, making my heart rate rise madly. His hands slide down my body, down to my skirt, his fingers hooking into them as I continue to look at him.

“It’s okay, I have too. And I know how needy you are right now, sweetheart.” He kisses my jawline, hands slowly pulling my skirt down my body, leaving me in only my panties.

“You–really?” I stumble as I hear his words, and all the fire in me burns up again, making me need him so badly, and wanting him, craving him, more than ever before.

One of his hands caresses my thigh, feeling the soft skin underneath his lean fingers, before slowly gliding up to my covered center. He watches his hand as it moves slowly over my panties, his fingers grazing my core, applying a teasing but light pressure, making me squirm.

“Of course,” he says in response, a devilish grin on his face, eyes looking down at where his hand is touching, and God, it's another hot sight. His other hand goes to remove the rings he wears on his fingers, the chunky silver ones I've grown to love so much, and I get more needy for him by the minute, making my body tremble with eagerness.

I look down at our naked bodies, making me heavily flush again but also dampen with even more in anticipation. Once his rings have made their way onto the nightstand he leans down towards my ear again. His lips ghost over the skin of my neck, trailing down as he speaks, “Are you sure you’re ready to be mine?... To let me take you in every way possible? To make you completely mine?”

He nips at the flesh before pulling back a little to look into my eyes. I whimper desperately at his words, chest rising up and down heavily, my arms already wrapping around his neck.

“Yes,” I breathe out in response, my eyes then looking at his lips.

Noah's right hand cups my cheek, gently caressing the skin with his thumb, and then finally pressing a soft kiss to my lips—it’s slow, passionate, and full of desire. Soon, his tongue grazes my lower lip, teasingly asking for entrance which I instantly give him, before moving his other hand to my waist and starting to slide my panties down my legs, all while never breaking the kiss.

I moan deeply in our kiss, my legs already slowly opening for him in pure eagerness as he then throws my panties away once they are fully down. His tongue slips into my mouth, swirling with mine as he groans against my mouth, the taste of him sweet and heavenly.

Noah's hands then slide across my thighs, his teeth grazing my bottom lip as he pulls it back for a second to look at me, before leaning down and kissing me once more, and God, it kills me and makes my anticipation and need for him grow even more and more. His right hand slides up my thigh, his fingers feeling the warmth of my center before rubbing against it gently.

My back arches slightly, eyes squeezing shut by the pleasure, and my jaw drops as sounds of pleasure begin to escape me. Noah can't seem to help but moan into my mouth in response, it makes him feel how badly I need him. He breaks the kiss and moves down to my jawline, then slowly down to my neck, leaving a few bruising bites behind, and I know they'll show tomorrow when I get up.

My panting and moaning get heavier and heavier with the more pleasure he gives me, his movements teasing at first, but then speeding up—leaving me a trembling mess. I can feel myself getting close, and Noah is being able to know by my desperate sounds and the way I move underneath him.

His lips pull away from my neck again, and he slowly slides down my body, placing kisses against my skin as he goes, his lips coming to rest at my chest. His left hand moves up my side towards my arm, pinning it down against the bed, before doing the same with the other arm. And now he has me underneath him, completely at his mercy, making my heart speeding up even more, with lips parted as I look at him with anticipation, as I'm about to get closer and closer to the edge.

Noah continues to work his fingers against my core, lips kissing all the way down my chest and then towards the inside of my thigh, leaving a faint trail of marks behind as he goes. His teeth graze the skin while his dark, lustful eyes never leave mine.

“Please,” I then breathe out as his mouth goes closer to my center, “I need you there—”

He listens to my pleas as a grin forms across his face. “Such a needy thing you are,” he chuckles softly against my sensitive skin. His eyes look back up to mine before looking at my aching core, making me shift even more in need.

“But, I will give you what you desire,” he then hums. His tongue flicks out, teasingly licking a slow, but broad trace, making me sharply inhale.

”Fuck,” I heavily pant out, making my back arch even more. I feel him smirk as my hips buck against his mouth as he hears the sounds of me falling apart beneath him. The hand that was holding my arm down moves up towards my head, gently lacing his fingers into my hair before pulling it, and he looks up again at me.

“Be good and take it,” he then commands with a low voice, it being enough to make me moan out loud again.

“I’ll take it,” I pant in response, “fuck, I’ll take it all—”

Noah hums against my core, slightly vibrating against me, driving me crazy. He then looks up at me through his lashes, watching my face contort and twitch in pleasure. His left hand then moves to the desk next to his bed again, taking one of the gloves off it and sliding it on again, making my eyes widen. Oh god—he has definitely noticed what those gloves did to me the whole evening.

I see him having to hold back a grin at my reaction, confirming that. “Look at you baby, already looking wrecked,” he teases, his eyes and lips leaving my enter to look up at me, his gloved hand now moving down to my core, slowly rubbing me, and I gasp and squeeze my eyes shut at the feeling of the leather against me.

“Oh God Noah,” I choke out, feeling myself getting even closer to the edge, and his lips curve into a mischievous grin.

“And now look at you, begging me already,” he taunts after a dark, amused chuckle follows. “I’ll give you what you want, darling, but only if you say my name. That’s the only way you’ll get what you need.”

“Noah,” I desperately choke out, my voice sounding needy, practically shaking as I say his name, and he chuckles softly at how vulnerable and exposed I am right now. “I’m so close, please—“

“That’s my pretty thing,” Noah hums, his lips going back to my aching center, continuing to devour me with his tongue, and I let out the most desperate sounds, and soon enough I grab and pull his hair, hitting my edge, hard and with trembling legs he needs to hold with both his hands.

The sounds I'm making are almost loud enough for the others, and the realization makes my climax feel even more pleasurable and hot to me. Noah pulls away from my center, looking at me, taking in my dazed expression.

“What a pretty thing you are, y/n,” he praises me as he crawls over and hovers over me again.

I blush yet roll my eyes at the same time, chuckling lightly. “Yeah yeah,” I playfully respond as I swat his chest, and he joins my laughter.

“Now roll over for me, and make me wish you an even better happy birthday.”