#it's just sometimes my right knee gives out and i nearly fall

[yourplaceinaugust]

so i need to make two doctors appointments one to talk to my doctor about possibly needing mobility aids and another for a hearing specialist to see if i need hearing aids

[moonstruckme]

A Winter Wonderland

summary: you marvel at the beauty of your Christmas tree, and your boyfriends marvel at you

poly!marauders x whimsical!reader ♡ 911 words

You could fall asleep here, you think. It’s very lulling, the sound of the fireplace crackling a few feet away, the scent of pine needles, and the view of a forest unlike any other stretching out in front of you. Lights of blue and green and red filter through the thicket, and poking through you can see the edge of a handmade paper star, the fuzzy end of a dog’s tail. Your Christmas tree from below. 

“What are you doing?” Sirius has the half amused tone of when he feels like he’s caught you at something odd and he hasn’t decided whether to rag you or to join you yet. 

“Admiring our decorating,” you reply. “We did a good job.” 

“You’re supposed to look at it from in front of the tree, sweetness.” 

“It looks nice from there, too,” you allow, “but nobody ever appreciates it from down here.” 

There’s a new set of footsteps, a big hand on your knee. “Are the branches not scraping you?” James asks curiously. 

“Only sometimes.” 

You hear a smile in his voice. “It’s worth it, though, eh?”

You hum in affirmation. 

“Well, this I’ve gotta see.” 

James is bigger than you are. You lift the branches for him as he shoots his top half in beside you, but when you let go they come to rest on his chest. He grins at you before looking at anything else. A classic James Potter smile, heartfelt and breathtakingly handsome.

“Hi, angel.” 

“Hi.” You reach for his glasses, carefully readjusting them on his nose. 

“It smells nice in here.” 

“It does,” you agree, pleased to be sharing it. You turn your face upward again. James follows suit. “It looks like another world.” 

“It is very pretty,” he says. Multicolored lights spiraling upward, the odd ornament sticking in through the branches, the tree itself lush and fantastical in dark green. “You’re right, we did a good job decorating.” 

“Don’t you sort of want to live here?” you ask on a sigh.

“You mean here in our sitting room?”

“No, here in the forest.” 

“Ah.” James gives this some thought. “It is nice, but I quite like my life the way it is.” 

You turn to look at him, and he’s already looking at you, glasses reflecting a rainbow of lights and brown eyes warmer than warm behind them. Your insides go soupy. 

“I like it, too,” you say softly. “I wouldn’t want to go if you all couldn’t come with me. Maybe we could move our place there. Or just visit sometimes, like camping.” 

James smiles at you. A dimple appears in his left cheek. “You mean on weekends?”

“Sure.” 

“I’m sure we could make that happen, lovely.” 

“Oi.” Sirius gives your knee a little shake. By the way James looks down, you guess your boyfriend’s doing the same to him. “What are you two whispering about down there?”

“He’s jealous.” James drops his voice into a deeper whisper, louder yet somehow less intelligible, solely to provoke Sirius. “He knows this view is better than in front of the tree.” 

“I don’t know,” you say, smiling at his antics. “I think he’s just worried we’re discussing his Christmas gifts.” 

Another shake to your knee, more insistent this time. “What is going on down there?” 

“Nothing,” James sing-songs. 

“Who’s left a pot of soup on the stove?” asks Remus, voice becoming clearer as he comes into the room.

“Oh, that was me,” you say. “It’s just simmering, don’t worry.” 

“It’s…what the fuck…” 

“I know,” Sirius says emphatically. 

“Dovey, why are you and James’ legs sticking out from under the tree like the Wicked Witch of the East?”

“Why do you assume it was her idea?” asks Sirius, at the same time as James asks, “Who’s the Wicked Witch of the East?” 

“I’m admiring our tree,” you tell Remus placidly.

“It does look really cool from down here,” James advocates for you. “Gives a new perspective on the decorating.” 

Remus makes an amused humming sound. “That’s really nice, but your soup’s nearly boiling over, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, no.” You start to wiggle out from underneath the tree. Sirius’ hands wrap around your ankles, giving you a helpful tug the rest of the way. You grin up at him. “Sorry,” you say to Remus, “I must have set the stove too high.” 

He smiles, reaching for you. “That’s okay.” He takes the ends of your hair between his fingers. “How’d you manage to get your hair wet?” 

“Hm?” You look. “Oh, it must have been in the tree’s water. I didn’t notice.” 

“There’ll be pine needles in it, too, then,” Sirius laughs. 

Remus shakes his head, but he’s looking at you like you’re one of his favorite things in the world. One of his favorite three things, for sure. 

“How about,” he suggests, “I go turn down the heat on your soup, and Sirius helps you get all the tree bits out of your hair?”

“That’s nice of you.” You push up on your toes, kissing Remus’ cheek. “Thanks.” 

Remus presses one to your lips in return, and Sirius takes your hand, leading you to the bathroom. 

“Did you dunk your hair in the water, too, Prongsie?” he asks when James follows. 

“I don’t think so,” says James. “I just want to see if her hair smells like Christmas tree.” 

Sirius hums. You giggle when he makes a show of bringing your hair to his nose, sniffing curiously. “It does, actually.”

[disgustingtwitches]

@rememberwren's Sperm donor!Johnny and Husband!Ghost has been stuck in my head for far too long. So here's a quick unedited little thing I wrote for it!

You forgot exactly what you were nervous about. Then again, you usually forget everything when your husband is between your legs.

“Gotta warm you up properly.”

He said earlier to Johnny and you, his large hand rubbing your thigh just a touch too high and making your face hot. 

You're not sure how much “warming up” you needed; he's been at it for God knows how long, and you're dizzy and pretty sure you can't feel your toes anymore. He can be so mean sometimes when he's like this, biting your thighs when you try to push his head away, smiling at how you whimper.

“You know, I'm starting to think you like it when I do that.”

As overstimulated as you are, you whine when he pulls away. You swear you can see the hearts in his eyes when he looks down at you. Gets you right in the heart. 

When he rolls out of bed and walks to the door you suddenly remember why your stomach was in knots earlier; you're about to sleep with his subordinate. No, that's not the right word. Brother in arms? Best friend? Their relationship always seemed more complex than words could describe. There's a soft knock on the door and you look up to see your husband walk in with Johnny in tow. 

Johnny's knees nearly give in at the sight of your body tangled up in the sheets, breathing hard, and skin glistening.

“Prettiest thing I've ever seen.” 

He smiles while unbuckling his pants. Simon hums in agreement and sits next to you, running his fingers up your arm and neck to caress your face. The look in his eyes could melt you right then and there, grounding and reassuring. Everything is going to be alright; it always has been and always will be.

Your eyes shoot back to Johnny, who's crawling over you slowly. You bite back a groan when Simon coos a good girl as you open your legs more, inviting Johnny to settle between them. The difference between your husband's face and the man hovering over you is night and day; Simon all soft and enamored, Johnny all fervid and lustful. 

“Ye ready?” 

Johnny's voice is almost as shaky as his hands, not nervous but almost deliriously aroused. You never had wandering eyes; it seems like it's wrong to even look at him now, but you don't want this to feel unnatural; you want to enjoy this. So you scan his body, toned chest falling and rising fast, strong arms caging you in, blue eyes so intense you have to look away.

“Uh-huh.”

You reply quietly, bucking your hips against his, your most sensitive parts rubbing against his. The gasp you share makes you both chuckle, easing the tension. You run your hands up his arms and wrap them around his neck. When you pull him closer, he follows eagerly, burying his face against the crook of your neck, stubble tickling you. 

“Dinnae have to do this if you don't want to, hen.” 

“No, I want to.” 

Your voice, smaller than you want it to be, makes Johnny's eyes soften. You look over to Simon, he cocks his head to the side, raising an eyebrow slightly, checking in. You just nod and he nods back. You keep your eyes on Simon while addressing Johnny,

“Ready.”

There's a pause, a shift, and then. You groan and roll your eyes back when he slides in, still facing Simon who blinks fast. Johnny breathes like the air was knocked out of him,

“Jesus…fuck…”

He curses to himself, face still buried at your neck, slowly moving his hips forward until his pelvis meets yours. You whine as he nips your neck and yelp when he punches his hips forward from the sounds you make. Your husband leans over and palms the back of his neck, talking in a low, serious tone that makes you tighten up, 

“Johnny.”

“Yeah, LT?”

“Ease up.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Johnny places a soft kiss where he bit you. It's all so…overwhelmingly intimate. Another man on top of you, grinding at just the right angle, hitting the right spots, all while your husband watches, instructing him. Simon pulls his hand away from Johnny's neck and shifts on the bed, sitting right next to you. Your eyes go wide when you turn to see him palming his erection. Oh. This is okay. This situation is more than okay. Simon fucking loves this. Johnny too. Guess you should throw away any reservations or doubts you had and just embrace this moment. Enjoy it to the fullest. 

Johnny pulls back, face slightly flushed, panting softly,

“She's so wet, Simon. Just so soft and perfect. Prettiest thing I ever saw...” 

You soak in the compliments but tune him out eventually, your attention drifting down to where Johnny slides in and out of you. It's a dreamy sight, really; you look so good together, it kind of reminds you how wonderful you and Simon look together. 

“Looks real nice, doesn't it? Taking me so well, hen.”

Johnny presses his forehead against yours, looking down while you hum in agreement. It's quiet for a moment, save for the occasional pant and moan or slick sounds from between your legs. A rough hand holds your left and another, larger hand grabs your right. It's all so sweaty, so sticky and sweet. So dazed, you barely register the first kiss Johnny plants on your lips. The second one makes your eyes shoot open, staring right at his annoyingly long, brown lashes until he pulls back and opens his eyes, blindingly blue. Your face gets hot, and you pull your hand to your face, your husband's fingers still intertwined with them. He extends his pointer finger to caress your cheek and you turn your face to look up at him. He's so gentle right now like he knows that's what you need from him. 

A smile plays on his face when you open your mouth and slide his finger into your mouth, sucking softly, rolling your eyes back, and moaning softly. You love giving him a show. Love making him melt in your mouth. He nods over to Johnny, whose jaw is slack, breathing hard. When you look at him, it's quite the sight: blue eyes wide and wild, mouth hanging open, and you can see his pulse right underneath his jawline beating wildly. Just fucking delectable. You pull your face away from Simon's hand and smile up at Johnny who groans and chuckles,

“Christ, LT.”

“Focus, Johnny. Ain't done yet.”

There's something feral that flashes in Johnny's eyes, hungry. Eager to please. You or Simon, you're not too sure. But he hooks an arm under your knees and hikes your leg up as far as it'll go, digging into you until you're a whimpering mess under him. His whole body pressed up against you, pinning you down. His mouth pressed right up against your ear, replacing every thought you had with his voice. 

“Right there? Huh? God, tight cunt right here…C'mon... Tell me how good it is…Tell me.”

He repeats the last phrase until you're mindlessly praising him, telling him what he wants to hear. What he needs to hear. You can feel him smile against the skin right under your ear before pressing tender kisses there. 

You're pressed chest to sweaty, hairy chest when you wrap your arms around him tighter, embracing him. All traces of guilt scraped away with Simon's breathy praise. You move one hand around until it rests on your husband's big thigh, and he tenses up under your touch. 

“C'mon love, give Johnny something real nice. He's been such a trooper, yeah?” 

You nod into Johnny's shoulder, breathless. 

“Uh-huh,”

It hits you hard and fast. Almost unexpectedly. Hearing a small moan escape Simon always sent you over the edge, though, always a rare moment when he lets himself relax and be vulnerable. 

Spasming and moaning under Johnny had his hips moving frantically, desperate for his own release. Biting his shoulder had him crashing right into it, digging deep into you until his hips still. He crushed you under his weight, licking the sweat off your neck. Simon pushed his head away though. 

“Don't forget, she's my wife Johnny.

His voice isn't harsh, it's almost soft. His large frame leans down and presses a tender kiss against your lips. Then another. And another. All while singing velvety praises between each one. For a moment, you forget about the other man in the room lying right on top of you. Until he pulls away, sliding out of you. Almost makes you whine til he starts pressing his lips against your sternum and stomach. Head in the clouds, you feel like you're floating. Suspended in this moment of pure bliss. 

“You got one more in you?”

Simon asks. Before you can answer, Johnny responds eagerly. 

“Always.”

[wheels-of-despair]

Tangled Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie gets a comb stuck in his hair. Evil Woman untangles it, and a little bit of his tragic backstory comes out with it. Contains: A minor tantrum, a sad Eddie, a little hair lore, and our boy being loved and taken care of. Words: 1.2k Note: This takes place during their first winter together.

"FUCK!"

A loud clatter follows the yell from behind the closed bathroom door, making you jump from your position on the Munson's couch.

You're sitting there in borrowed sweats, watching a Mork & Mindy rerun while you wait for Eddie. You'd spent most of the day playing in the snow with the neighborhood kids, and had both required about a gallon of hot chocolate and a warm shower to recover. The girls had won the final snowball fight, which meant you earned the first shower. (He probably would've let you go first even the boys had won, but you're counting it as a victory shower anyway.)

When you don't hear anything else, you rise and slowly approach the bathroom door. Silence. You knock lightly. "Eddie? You okay?"

The door slowly creaks open, revealing a pair of worn burgundy sweats, a faded Hellfire Club shirt, half of a black comb stuck in a tangle of matted hair, and the most pathetic puppy eyes you've ever seen.

"You okay?" you ask again.

"Comb got stuck," he says miserably.

"Want me to get it out?"

Eddie squirms, looking like he wants to wash himself down the drain. He turns toward the mirror and gives another feeble attempt at getting the comb out. You lean against the doorframe, waiting for him to ask for help, and your eyes drift to the bathtub. All of the bottles that usually sit on the ledge are scattered across the bottom of the tub. He must've thrown something and knocked them all down. Maybe you should take him bowling sometime.

Eddie sighs, releases the comb, and hangs his head in defeat. Looking at the floor, he turns to you and nods his head slowly.

"I promise I'll be gentle," you assure him, as quietly as you can. "C'mon." You tilt your head toward the living room and start walking, hoping he'll follow.

You slide the coffee table to the side, drop a pillow on the floor for him to sit on, and take your seat on the couch. You gesture for him to sit between your legs. He does, reluctantly. You want so badly to know what's actually wrong, you feel like you may burst… but you know better than to ask.

You reach for the comb embedded in his wet hair without a word, and he flinches. You rest your hands on your knees instead.

You play with his hair all the time. When you watch movies, his head often ends up on your lap, and your hands gravitate to it. He gets the cutest little smile on his face when you tuck his hair behind his ear. You know for a fact that rubbing light circles on That One Spot on his scalp will put him right to sleep. Why is this different?

"You okay?" you ask.

"Yeah."

"You know I'm gonna try my very best not to hurt you, right?"

"Yeah." His voice is hollow. Emotionless.

You carefully reach for the mass of tangles and the buried comb again. He tenses, but doesn't flinch. You begin working it out, piece by piece, taking your time and focusing all your energy on keeping it painless while the laugh track on TV keeps the room from falling into awkward silence.

When you finally get the comb out, you set it aside and reach for your own brush. Starting at the ends, you gently work out all the rest of Eddie's tangles. The whole process takes nearly an hour, and he doesn't move a muscle the whole time.

"Alright, you're done," you finally declare, setting your brush aside. He heaves a sigh of relief, and you lean down to kiss the top of his head.

He turns sideways and rests his chin on your knee. You cup the side of his face, rubbing your thumb across his flushed cheek, and he closes his eyes. Just when you think he's fallen asleep, he heaves another sigh and starts talking.

"My mom used to brush my hair when I was little. Her brush had those hard, scratchy bristles that felt like wire." He swallows, but still doesn't open his eyes. "My hair wasn't this long, but I used to play outside all day. To get away from them, mostly. But when I came home at dark, she'd make me stand in front of her in the kitchen so she could brush it. She'd yank and pull at it and brush my neck and my ears and my forehead. I think it actually drew blood once or twice. If I moved or complained, she'd put me over her knee and use the other side."

You didn't realize your hand had stopped stroking his cheek until he stopped talking. You move it to his shoulder, still a little damp from his hair, and give him a light squeeze.

"One day, after she died, I went in the bathroom with scissors I stole from school and cut it all off. Well, I tried. They were dull and kid-sized. Dad laughed at me when he saw it. Made me go to school like that. The nurse finally took pity on me and evened it out after a few days."

He crawls onto the couch and lays his head on your lap, facing the TV. Normally in this position, your hands would be in his hair immediately, but today… you hesitate. Although he can't see you do it, he must sense it. He puts his hand on your knee, palm up. You take it, and place your other hand on his arm in a gesture you hope is comforting.

"When I came to live with Wayne, he'd give us both a buzz cut on the first of every month. The noise from the clippers scared the shit out of me at first, but after watching him do his own a few times, I finally let him do mine. I didn't start growing it out again 'til the summer I graduated from middle school. That's when I decided nobody was gonna fuck with it. And nobody was gonna fuck with me."

He lets go of your hand and flips onto his back, staring up at you.

"Kay, that's the whole traumatic hair story you didn't ask for."

You smile and reach for his hand again.

"It doesn't bother you when I play with it?"

"Not gonna lie… scared the hell out of me the first time," he chuckles. "Usually, when a girl goes for the hair, it's to pull it or stick something in it. One time, a girl dragged me across the playground with it. But you? Just started twirling it and playing with it and putting me to sleep. Didn't ever want you to stop. Couldn't fucking believe it."

You feel your heart warm at his confession, and finally let your hand return to that beautiful head of hair. Your fingers lightly work at his scalp, and he smiles sleepily up at you.

"You know I'd never hurt you, right?" You know he knows, but you need him to hear it. "Unless it's like… in a kinky way that you specifically request."

"I'll keep that in mind," he smirks.

[queer-n-here]

I JUST SAW YOUR POST ABOUT WANTING TO BRANCH OUT TO DIFFERENT FANDOMS

AND THAT YOURE OK WITH MHA

BAKUGOU X READER PLS PLS PLS

Like brat Bakugou x brat tamer reader, breaking down his rudeness until he’s begging for it. PLS I wanna fuck him till he cries pls

(Sorry for the hornyposting oops k bye)

Yes yes yes yes yes yes yesssssss!!!

Fuck yeahhh brat taming Bakugo let's go!

(This was my initial reaction to recieving this req, no shit)

Contents: Lil headcannons bout taming Baku! Hope you like em!

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, edging, mentions of overstim near the end.

Bakugo, his ENTIRE character, screams 'I'm a little brat' like nothing else.

So I can see him being rude to you, too, mocking and joking around about some of your habits to piss you off. What that dumbass doesn't think of, however, is the consequences of his actions.

You grab Bakugo by the wrists and pin him to the bed you two were sitting at, press your knee between his legs and push them apart, holding him down despite his struggles.

"Look at you, all riled up just from some jeering." He says, smirking and completely oblivious of his fate. "What is it, haven't taken you- mmf!"

You cut him off with a kiss first, letting go of his wrists momentarily to rip his clothes off of his body.

Bakugo wouldn't admit it if you put a gun to his temple, but he loves being manhandled like this. You're stronger than him, which is something he tried to be in denial about earlier, but not anymore.

So when you enter his asshole without preparing him, he gives up the struggle and scrambles to find purchase to ground himself.

You fuck into him, making his hips buck up into yours. You hold him down, and began thrusting into him at a pace so slow it has him losing his mind.

You're hitting all the right spots, and the stimulation is making his back arch and eyes water, but its not nearly enough. Bakugo tries clenching around you, trying to rile you up to get you to fuck him senseless the way you sometimes do, but you just hiss and tighten your hold on him, pace slower than ever.

And it doesn't take long for him to lose his composure and fall apart in your hands. He's reduced into a needy mess soon, chest jolting as his breath hitches, hands grabbing at your shoulders so tight you feel his blunt nails dig into your skin.

"More, ah! [Name] faster!" Is the only string of comprehensible words that he can utter soon.

"Oh?" You grit your teeth against the sparks of pleasure each thrust is sending up your cock. "You wanna get fucked, hmm? Then why weren't you acting like it just now, Baku?"

And he just whines, feeling your tip barely brush against sweet spot this time, the denial of that pleasure he knew you could give him so intense it made him see black spots in his vision that he had to blink to clear.

So he begs, he begs like the whore he is in bed, like the cock-addicted little slut you've made him, who wants nothing more than to have you rearrange his insides to the shape of your cock.

You take pity on him, like c'mon, you can't keep edging him forever when your own cock is pulsing with want, right?

So you bend him in half and plunge into him, your pace like that of a wild fucking animal as you thrust into him, finally giving Bakugo what he wants.

Bakugo lays there, his brain slowly turning into mush as you finally, finally fuck him, his moans loud even over the sound of skin slapping against skin with each of your thrusts, sweat soaked hair sticking to his forehead.

I mean, the night is still young tho. Maybe you can overstimulate him next, rip orgasm after orgasm from him till his entire frame his shaking, till his dick is shooting blanks, till he passes out on the bed under you from exhaustion, leaving you to clean up the mess on the bed. Who knows? 😉

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2024: October 3rd

Day 3: Sixty-nine // Public Sex // Pet Play

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy/post partum baby body, new mom!reader, slight voyeurism, horny Frankie, face sitting, oral (male and female receiving), mentions of anilingus, cum swallowing

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Fuck baby, c’mere.” You can hear the lust dripping from his voice, making you smirk slightly, the ego boost is something that you need right now when you haven’t been feeling the sexiest. Motherhood sometimes takes it out of you. Instead of lingerie, you live in leggings and faded Army t-shirts that are riddled with spit up stains. You turn around to see Frankie on the bed, naked and completely hard for you, his dark eyes greedily drinking in your own nude body. 

You hadn’t expected him to be in the bedroom when you got out of the shower, but it’s obvious he’s been waiting on you. Waiting and anticipating. You bite your lip, eyes sliding down the slightly less in shape physique of your husband. Despite his own hang ups, he’s only grown sexier in your eyes, through the best shape of his life in the military to the now softer build. He’s still strong, still capable and that makes him even more appealing. 

“I take it you want something?” You tease, eyeing his cock as it twitches. He’s always been able to make you laugh or moan by flexing his cock when he’s hard. 

“I want you to come sit on my face.” He snorts, patting his cheek and smirking at you. “Then if you want, you can sit on my cock.” 

It’s a tempting offer, but you shake your head. “If you’re licking my pussy, then I want to be sucking your cock.” You counter, making the momentary frown when you shake your head immediately turn into a quick nod and a beaming grin. “Deal.” He grunts, pushing down the bed so that you can get into position. 

His hands are greedy, pulling you back and making you gasp and giggle when you nearly fall flat on your face when he throws you off balance. Making you slap his thigh and huff as you look over your shoulder, halfway across his body. “You ass.” You huff, making him chuckle. 

“No, your ass.” He groans, reaching for your hips again and grabbing a handful of your ass and squeezing it. “I love it.” He has always been an ass man and he never misses an opportunity to touch it. 

Getting into position is never sexy. There’s almost small grunts and adjustments to where your legs are comfortable and not pressing against the headboard. You apologize a couple of times when Frankie grunts, his shoulder taking your knee a little harder than anticipated. Finally hovering over his face, even though it always makes you self conscious in the beginning. 

It doesn’t bother Francisco. His eyes are focused on you and his cock is twitching and already starting to dribble just a little bit of precum, pooling around the foreskin and beaded up gorgeously. 

“Fuck, look at that pussy.” He never fails to make you feel like he could live off your cunt. Always wanting to eat you out, never making you feel like it’s a chore to him. For him it’s a reward, a gift you give him when you let him devour you and makes you soak the bottom of his chin and mouth. 

In the same way, you love sucking Frankie’s cock. Hearing the moans and the slightly desperate whine that you can pull from him as you swallow his length down and drip when he forgets to stay still and chokes you slightly. 

Your fingers wrap around his length, smiling when you feel his pulse in your hand and wiggle your hips back as you lean down. Rolling the protective skin that covers the head and revealing the sensitive skin, already flush with need and begging for your attention. 

The first lick is always a tease, both of you groaning and your own hips push back insistently when his warm breath washes over your wet folds, his own chuckle a little smug because he knows that if he holds out, you will be begging for his tongue. Not that he would ever deny you, he’s too greedy for your taste, for the warm musk of your cunt to fill his senses and thoughts. 

Your tongue is fluttering around the head of his cock, lapping at the beads of precum when he takes his first sample of your cunt, making your eyes roll back at the wet heat and moan against him. His own grunt of approval is one you always listen for, even when you’ve just stepped out of the shower. That’s just your own personal issues, something that he scoffs at every time he wants to go down on you when you are hot and sweaty. He doesn’t give a shit. 

Once it’s begun, both of you quickly descend into madness. Every flick of his tongue pushes your own need to make him moan, your throat opening and taking him deeper. Loving how he chokes into your folds when you swallow around him. 

The sounds are low, vibrating around you both as they are muffled by the tasks you are eagerly partaking in. Frankie is thick and it always makes your jaw ache to blow him, but there is no way you will give up. You love how he fills your throat and blocks the air as he twitches. The subtle gasps that he tries to hide by pushing his tongue inside you when he feels your moans vibrate around him. 

You both love to give pleasure to the other, making this the ultimate indulgence. It becomes a race, to see who can make the other break again. Once your jaw stops popping every time you take him deep into your mouth, you increase the pace. Greedy as you bob your head and reach down to roll his balls gently in your fingers and make him keen in pleasure. 

Frankie is filthy when he eats your pussy. Sloppy and thorough. There is no part of your sex that he won’t shower in attention. Licking you from the top of your clit right up to your puckered hole, he licks and flicks his tongue against the spots that have your grinding back onto him. Wanting you to smother him with your cunt and if he dies, well, he would just die happy. 

Rocking on his face, both at the encouragement of his hands as he guides you and from your eagerness to suck his cock down, you both rocket the other towards orgasm, increasing the pressure around his length and bucking back when he sucks your clit into his mouth. 

Muffled curses can barely be heard, but each one of you feels them, adding to the knotting coil in your belly when Frankie pulls his mouth away from your clit long enough to moan your name before he is diving back into you. 

Years together has given you the keys to making sure the other cums. Knowing how he reacts and what he loves, where he knows your body just as intimately. Your jaw goes slack when he pushes his fingers deep inside you and presses them just right, your toes curling and your hips rolling back. Only to pull off his cock with a pop and spit on it to wrap your hand around the base and start to pump him while you gobble him down again. 

You feel like you are losing your mind. So close to cumming while trying to make sure that he is worked up to that peak. Feeling him get even harder every time you swallow him down, the strength of his hands nearly bruising as he holds you in the best position to attack your cunt. 

It’s coiling in your belly, tight and explosive, only taking one more flick of his tongue before you are keening around his cock. Body shaking and you absorb every pleased moan as you soak his face. 

Frankie is the type that only lets go after you’ve been satisfied so the pulling down of his hips is the only warning you get before he starts to flood your mouth. Ropes of his salty seed fill your mouth, making you gulp down as much as you can as it spills out the sides of your mouth. Throbbing wonderfully on your tongue and muffling your whines as his continues to take you apart with every pass through your sensitive folds. 

Neither one of you stops until the other is squirming away, both panting when you pull away and there is that brief second before the post orgasm giggles begin. Shifting off of him and turning around to see his wet, smiling face and despite the taste of him still lingering on your tongue, leaning into kiss him. Curling into his body and snuggling against him right as the baby starts to cry. “Fuck.” Frankie chuckles. “At least we got it in.” He snorts, amused by that fact and relaxed. He’s always happy when you both get to pleasure each other with a sixty-nine.

[mythicmanuscripts]

DAEMYRA X READER THOUGHTS

So, one of the reasons why I made this blog is because of a little plot bunny that I have not been able to get to leave my head so I figured I'll share it with you all! Here are my thoughts about being in a poly relationship with both Daemon and Rhaenyra. These thoughts will include NSFW thoughts. It is dom!reader with switch!rheanyra and switch!daemon.

If you like what you see, feel free to take a look around my blog!

Both Daemon and Rhaenyra wanted you long before they ever made a move. Once their marriage was official, it didnt take them long to begin fantasising about you. Daemon saw the way Rhaenyra looked at you and so naturally the next time they were fucking, he started talking about you and from there, mentioning you while they were together was commonplace.

You'd first kiss Rhaenyra. It happens one night, the two of you sitting by the fire and talking, Rhaenyra complaining about her small council and about feeling disrespected by many of them. At some point the topic of Daemon came up, and how Rhaenyra honestly didnt even know when he was going to show up again. You promised her that she'd never have to deal with that with you, and that she deserved better.

And then suddenly you two are kissing and the next thing you know, you're in her private chambers, your head between her thighs. She tells you how her and Daemin have fantasised about you, how Daemon will be so jealous to hear that she got to have you first.

When Daemon does return, he very nearly combusts when he finds you and Rhaenyra curled up together on their bed. Needless to say, he jumps right in.

The funny thing is that your dynamic with Daemon couldnt be more different than your dynamic with Rhaenyra. With Rhaenyra, you're gentle and soft. Yes you are very much the dom, but she is your queen, you look after her, ensure she doesn't have to make a single decision from the moment she retires to her bed for the evening.

Meanwhile with Daemon you are so harsh. Daemon needs a heavy hand, and he will brat and fight and disobey until he gets the level of punishment and attention that he desires. You drag him by his hair to bed, spank and scratch him, edge him until he's sobbing.

And to everyone's delight, Daemon is actually significantly less of a cunt when he's regularly getting absolutely wrecked by you.

One of your favourite things to do is to tie Daemon to a chair facing the bed and then just absolutely worship Rhaenyra. Daemon can't do a thing but watch. He always starts out stubborn, but before long he's shaking and whining begging for anything, even just for you to free one of hands so he can touch himself.

Another favourite is to get Daemon on his knees with his hands tied behind his back and then make him give you or Rhaenyra head like that. He's not allowed to use his hands at all, and he's not allowed to stop until you tell him to. Sometimes if you're feeling particularly cruel, you'll make him eat Rhaenyra out like that while you edge him. He's not allowed to cum until he's made Rhaenyra cum twice.

Daemon will dom Rhaenyra on his own when it’s just the two of them, but funnily enough the moment you’re in the mix he stops wanting to be the dom? It’s like you walk into the room and instantly Daemon turns into a pouty little brat that you have to teach a lesson. Rhaenyra finds this change equal parts hot and hilarious.

Speaking of Daemon being well… Daemon, Rhaenyra will often send you to go fetch Daemon from whichever castle he’s wondering around in and bring him back.

However these trips aren’t just you finding daemon and dragging him back to dragon stone by his ear (though that is definitely part of it), it’s also you punishing the ever loving fuck out of that idiot. He gets spanked and edged and degraded, all the rough treatment he loves.

And so by the time you reach dragon stone, Daemon is no longer all smug and confident but instead will just fall to his knees in front of Rhaenyra and beg her to forgive him. He always says he’ll never do it again and he always does it again within a fortnight.

Oh and lastly, when Jace found out of this he kinda just sighed and said “Oh great, I have another parent.”

[ravennaortiz]

11,22,43,52 with Chibs please. I’m rewatching SOA right now and I would love to read a story where the reader is the club princess who fell in love with Chibs.. thank u so much!🫶🏼

I too am rewatching SOA! I absolutely love the idea of the club princess falling in love with Chibs! Your very welcome, stop by anytime for another! As always my stories are 18+!

Princess

I'm not enough for you lassie. Too old and with you being who you are. I just can't lass.

You frowned looking up from where you stood in front of Chibs as his words echoed through your head. You weren't used to not getting what you wanted as the club princess. You had had a crush on the Scottish biker since he joined your brother and stepdads MC years ago. That's crush had slowly grown over the years into much more. You had fallen hopelessly head over heels for him.

Chibs sighed as he watched your eyes sparkle with tears. This was entirely his fault. He should have nipped this in the bud years ago. He had simply thought it was a young school girl crush and it would go away with time. It hadn't and now here he was trying to let you down as gently as possible.

His loyalty to your stepdad and brother prevented him from giving himself to you even though he wanted too. He couldn't deny you were a stunning young woman and anyone would be lucky to have you in their life and bed at night. But you were strictly off limits and every man in this club knew that. As much as he would love to feel your lips against his he just could not risk it.

You nodded as you sniffled and wiped at your eyes as the tears slipped down your cheeks. A mix of emotions battled within you. Maybe you could talk to Jax. He would okay it you thought and you could care less what your stepdad thought. Sometimes you truly hated being the club princess and how people treated you differently. A surge of anger had a challenge falling from your lips as you glared back at Chibs.

"Make me believe you don't want me" you firmly stated as you moved closer running your hands down the older mans chest to his belt which you started to undo. Chibs was slow to respond and you had his belt and zipper undone before he grabbed your wrist. "Stop" murmured Chibs trying to be gentle as he felt his own body start to betray him.

As sweet as you were he knew you had the Teller signature stubbornness and hardheadedness just like your brother. Rarely could wither of you be talked off or down from something once you were latched on. The smug look on your face before you spoke next had him worried.

"No one is here but us. Hell no one else knows I'm here. So whats he harm? Just a small taste?" you whispered as you walked forward making Chibs move back so you were all the way in his dorm room. Chibs swallowed hard and his brain was short circuiting as the implication of your words hit him. The sound of his door slamming closed as you kicked it shut had him snapping out of the trance and releasing your hands. Putting more distance between the two of you he rubbed his face.

Taking the opportunity you slipped your dress down and let it float to the floor around your feet. When Chibs turned back to you he swallowed hard as he took in your nearly nude body. "Jeezus Christ" he murmured as he snapped his eyes closed. "Put your clothes back on now" he ordered even though he was straining at the front of his jeans.

You huffed before rolling your eyes and moving towards him. Once you were in front of him you dropped to your knees as you tugged on his jeans. "Please Chibs?" you whimpered as you batted your eyes up at him. Chibs shivered at your words but quickly moved around you and left his room as he uttered a firm no.

***

"What's going on with you and my sister?" inquired Jax as he slipped into the stool next to Chibs a couple of days later. Chibs sighed heavily as he took a sip of his whiskey. It was no secret you had been cold with him and made your irritation known to the whole club since he had denied your advances.

"I thought I did the right thing but apparently not" replied Chibs not bothering to elaborate. Jax simply nodded as he looked at his friend. "Well I want you to fix it. However you need to" replied Jax after a couple minutes as his eyes trailed over to where you stood talking to a member from another charter.

Chibs had slipped outside for fresh air when he heard your voice raising into almost a yell as you struggled in the arms of a man Chibs had seen a couple times but not bothered to learn the name of. A surge of jealously had Chibs stalking over silent and grabbing the man before beating his face to a bloody pulp.

"Chibs!" you screamed as you pulled him back. Your eyes wide with fear and shock at his reaction. "Why di-" you started before Chibs lips on yours had your words cut off. Moaning you ran your hands through his hair pulling him closer before he pulled back a moment later.

"I would kill for you lass. I've missed you so damn much the last couple of days. I was a damn bloody idiot. Can you forgive me and give an old man another chance love?" begged Chibs as he looked into your eyes.

You gulped and simply nodded. "I love you Chibs" you whispered looking up at him with a soft smile.

"Love ya too lass" replied Chibs before he picked you up and carried you back to the clubhouse.

Want more Chibs? Click here

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[sunfyresrider]

Do you love me?

Synopsis: After a fight with his mother, she tells him you don't love him. So, Aegon does what he does best and invades your existence entirely.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Wife (you) Warnings: SMUT LEGIT JUST SMUT, oral, penetration, kissing, aegon being pathetic. Word count: 1855 Note: As I said, smut to celebrate 200 followers!!! Forgive me if this is not my best work. I wrote it during the 2 hours I have before my job. (Literally posting this as I'm in the car on my way there) Sill I hope you enjoy the depravity my brain created.

You, peacefully, were writing letters to your family you had left at home to come to King’s Landing. It smelled like shit, the red keep was suffocating, and your husband… Well, he was alright at times. 

Today wasn’t one of the days he was alright. You were preparing to give the maester your carefully written messages when the door burst open and a very disheveled Aegon ran in. It took only a moment to notice the streaks of tears that stained his cherub-like cheeks. A strawberry red bruise painted the right side of his face… 

“It happened again?” you spoke softly, a slight shiver sent down your spine when he looked at you. Aegon wore the face of a desperate, pathetic and piteous boy who lacked affection from his own kin. It nearly made your heart wrench, but you’d grown accustomed to his displays. 

He would do something wrong, sometimes almost unforgivable and his mother would act in the only way she knew how. It was a never-ending cycle, he behaved inappropriately, Alicent found out and hit him, and he came running to you to ease his suffering. 

He rushed forward, grasping you by your shoulders and squeezing them tightly. His large blue eyes pleading with yours for some comfort, a silent request to ease his suffering. “Do you love me?” Aegon’s voice was shaky and hoarse from crying or yelling, only the gods knew at this point. 

When you didn’t answer fast enough, he shook you, the frown on his face deepening. “W-wife, do you love me?” You let out a deep sigh knowing what came next. You cupped his face gently and wiped the tears away with the tips of your fingers. “Of course… I love you with all my heart.” 

His mouth twisted into a crooked smile. Aegon’s black pupils dilated and filled the vast ocean of blue around them. His hand moved to softly caress your face, pushing the loose hairs out of his way. He dragged his thumb to your bottom lip gently tugging at it. Aegon leaned in so his breath warmed your skin and his lips hovered above yours. His eyes were half lidded and lips swollen from biting them, “prove it.” 

He whispered into you, and you let out a deep breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You slowly shrunk down onto your knees, taking your time to unfasten the buttons that lined his trousers. You should be used to it by now, the image of his cock springing out his pants that is. Yet somehow the size never ceased to surprise you. 

To be blunt you didn’t enjoy being on your knees or giving him head. In fact, you dreaded it. However, he never failed to reward you in earnest. His constant need to prove himself worthy of something gave you something to look forward to. So, you did not hesitate to wrap your mouth around him and swirl your tongue around his tip. Your small hands that barely fit around him rubbed his length. 

Aegon moaned as your soft warm tongue glided over his shaft. He always was the noisiest man you had ever met. The sound of his pleasurable cries escaping his throat made your body fill with confidence. With each moan, his hips bucked against your face. He grabbed fistfuls of your hair pulling you closer until your nose pressed firmly against the base of his member.

You gagged at the sensation of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Delicate tears began to fall from your irises, but you managed to hold on long enough to take his full length between your lips and bob back and forth. 

“Look at me. You’re so pretty sucking my cock, wife.” The sight of you on your knees, covered in spit and drool, while you sucked his cock turned him into an animal. “Ah- I love you.” He stuttered out between whimpers.

His words always made you melt into him, they fueled a wildfire of desire inside you that only he could tame. The taste of him flooded your senses and you swallowed every drop of his precum without hesitation. You felt his cock begin to throb and his balls tighten. The amount of seed leaking into your throat steadily increasing. 

Not yet, Aegon pulled you off quickly, your mouth let go of him with a pop.  He dropped to his own knees pushing his lips into yours with a bruising force, never letting go of your hair or speaking a word. His tongue slipped into your mouth and made circles with your own. His hands moved to grope every part of your body leaving marks where they gripped. 

A soft moan left your lips when he moved to unlace the dress you were wearing. He was skilled at that making quick work of taking off your clothes while his mouth never left yours. His strong hands pushed aside your panties exposing your wetness. The cold air sending goosebumps up your body. 

Aegon pulled your legs out from underneath you seating them over his shoulders. You hadn’t realized the ache between your legs until his lips were making its way towards it. Aegon trailed wet kissed his way up your thigh and bit down hard on your inner thigh causing you to yelp.

His lips curled into a devilish smile. “Aegon please,” you whimpered underneath him. Of course, he would never say no but the sound of you begging made his cock flutter. He smirked before kissing his way back to your entrance. When his tongue slid across your clit you cried out. He teased you relentlessly, alternating licking and sucking your sensitive bud.

Your hips rose off the ground as you tried to get more friction on your needy pussy. He pulled back to place kisses and marks everywhere you didn’t need him. His hands roamed freely touching every inch of your body. Every touch sent electric shocks through you. Each kiss set your nerves ablaze. 

After a few minutes of this torture, you began pleading with him to finish what he started. “Please husband, please.” Aegon’s face moved to hover over your cunt. His nose softly brushing over your sensitive clit, “Say you love me.” 

Aegon dipped a finger into your cunt, purposely pushing on that spongy spot inside you. His lips swallowed your clit, and his tongue roughly ran circles around it.  “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love AH-” 

The feeling of his index rubbing your G-spot caused your walls to contract around his digits. Your back arched off the floor as the pleasure washed over you. A scream escaped your lips, you came undone flooding his hand with your juices. His grip tightened as he buried his face further into you. 

You tried to squirm away, the stimulation becoming too much for you to bear. You couldn't stop shaking as your orgasm overtook you. All you wanted right now was to feel his thick cock inside you. "Husband," you sobbed uncontrollably.

Aegon pulled back, proudly gazing at the mess he created. He pulled his fingers to his lips sucking on the juices you left, “you always taste so sweet for me.” He leant down and pressed his lips to yours in a gentle yet desperate kiss. The taste of yourself on his tongue flooding your mouth… He wasn’t necessarily wrong you did taste sweet. 

"Aegon,” you mewled under your breath. “Wife,” he hushed you with a deep breath as he moved to turn you onto your side. Aegon didn’t treat you how you expected. He never fucked you like a whore, he preferred to cuddle while he rammed his cock inside you. He liked being able to watch you whilst he played with your breast and the feeling of the heat from your back warming his chest. 

He placed one arm behind you pulling you tight against his bare chest. He positioned himself behind you looking down into your eyes, he gently lowered his head and claimed your lips with his own. Your tongues tangled together, his cock resting just below your slit. He rubbed himself against you, collecting all the wetness onto his cock before he prodded at your entrance.

"Fuck!" You gasped as he pushed himself into you. The thickness of his cock filled you completely, stretching out your cunt no matter how many times it had been there. His thumb moved to your clit and he began rubbing it gently, sending waves of tingles throughout your entire body.

Aegon moved his free hand to cup your breast as his pace increased slowly building up speed. You could hear his grunts filling the room, the sensation of you clenching around him overwhelming him. His thrusts became harder, his grunts turning into soft moans invading your ears. You choked out praises, “you feel so good h-husband.” 

He moved his hand to rub your clit faster.  An intense pressure building within you with every movement. His breathing grew heavy as his cock continuously hit your cervix, your cunt trying to squeeze out his seed. “Aeg- please I need you,” you whimpered desperately. Aegon dropped his head into the crook of your neck and sucked on your bare skin.

"Mmhmm." He groaned into your ear, his hips moving quicker, your hips bucking to meet his. Your cries turned into screams as he pounded into you, “fuck fuck fuck,” you panted beneath him. His fingers swirled around your clit, the coil in your stomach threatening to break any moment. “P-please cum in me,” you whined pathetically. 

His pace quickened, the muscles in his arms bulging with each pump. The sounds of him railing into your wetness echoed throughout the room. Aegon began singing barely audible praises into your ear. As he neared his climax he growled, his voice rising above the noise of your bodies colliding.

You clenched around his length, the overwhelming feeling of ecstasy taking over. Your body began to shake as your second climax washed over you more intense than before. “Gods,” he cried out. You felt his cock pulsating inside you, his hot seed spilling forth and coating your womb. He shoved his lips into yours, muffling the cry that escaped your lips as you reached your finish. 

His movements slowed, the sting of him stretching you out beginning to take over the pleasure. You winced as he pulled himself out from deep within you. You laid limp beside him panting heavily, his hands roaming freely over your naked form. You looked up into his eyes that still held the sadness of a beggar boy. “Do you love me?” 

You moved forward with the rest of your strength, cupping his cheeks gently. You peppered kisses on his face forcing a smile to escape his lips. “Stop it,” he nudged your head back with his own. Behind the obvious sadness it was clear to see he was holding back amusement. Your expression changed, the mood growing serious by the second. You leaned back staring deeply into his sea-like eyes with nothing but adoration. “Yes, I love you very much.”

[tongue-like-a-razor]

hi babe, I have a request not sure if you are taking but- I was wondering if you could do something like Bradley's little girl, goes to the doctor to get a shot, and Bradley's there to comfort her while she's crying

Aww this was a such a cute request, I just had to do it! Thanks for sending it in :D

A Little Pinch

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Wife!Reader

Summary: Rooster tries to hold it together for the sake of his daughter while she gets a shot.

CW: needle (not graphic), fluff, dad Rooster

WC: 875

Masterlist

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Bradley mutters, holding your daughter in his lap as he kisses her head. “I’m right here and I promise you’re going to be okay.”

Your daughter is bawling in anticipation of the needle the doctor is preparing but you know that this shot is going to hurt your husband more than it will hurt her.

Rooster looks up at you with tears in his eyes as he pats your daughter’s head. “It’s going to be quick, sweetheart,” he says gently, trying to console himself just as much as he is trying to soothe her.

Your daughter shakes her head and turns on his lap, burying her face in his chest. Rooster gives you a desperate look, wrapping his arms around the little girl to comfort her. In his big arms, she feels safe and her sniffles grow quieter as her breathing steadies.

“You’ll have to hold her arm down tightly so that she doesn’t move,” the doctor says, approaching the three of you.

Your daughter begins to wail anew, thrashing in Rooster’s embrace. “No!” she screams.

Rooster takes the beating without so much as a wince, looking on at her sympathetically as he tries to unstick her hair from her wet cheeks. “Sweetheart,” he whispers, taking her face in his hands. “I know you’re scared, and that’s okay. Being scared is natural. It’s important to be scared sometimes so that we can avoid danger, right?”

You daughter nods, sniveling.

Rooster smiles at her. “But you trust daddy, right?”

She nods again.

Rooster sighs. “It’s going to be a pinch,” he tells her honestly, in response to which your daughter lets out a whine. “But it won’t last long!” Rooster continues. “Remember that time you fell off your bike and scraped your knee?”

Your daughter bobs her head up and down, crying a little harder.

“It won’t hurt nearly as much as that, okay?”

Your daughter whimpers quietly.

“We’re going to count to five, and then it’ll all be over, okay sweetheart? Will you help me count?”

Your daughter sighs shakily, but her crying has subsided. “I can count to twenty,” she says between sniffles.

Rooster chuckles. “I know, you little smarty pants,” he responds, ruffling her hair. “But the pinch will only last until we count to five. How does that sound?”

Your daughter nods again, then sniffs softly as he turns her back around on his lap.

“I’m going to hold on really tight and I won’t let go, okay?” Rooster mutters in her ear.

“Okay,” she agrees.

“Ready to count?” he asks.

“Ready.”

You smile at your daughter as she looks up at you and hold out your fingers as the two of them begin to count.

“One, two” - somewhere between one and five, your daughter starts to scream, but Rooster holds her tightly and continues counting - “three, four, five.”

“All done!” the doctor says.

Your daughter is crying while Rooster cradles her in his arms. “It’s over, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“That hurt!” your daughter wails.

“I know, baby. I know.” He stands up, holding her firmly to his body. “But you did it! My brave girl, I’m so proud of you!”

Your daughter hugs him back. “That’s it?” she cries. “Is it over?”

“It’s over, princess,” he whispers, blinking back his tears as he kisses the side of her head.

You stroke your husband’s arm as the doctor puts a Band-Aid on your daughter. Rooster looks like he’s about to pass out which is, on the one hand, a little funny considering his profession and the amount of stress he faces on a daily basis, and on the other, making you fall in love with him all over again.

Rooster puts his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, still holding your daughter at his hip. “You okay?” he asks you gently.

You bite your lip and smile at him. You seem to be handling the situation much better than your husband, and you wonder whether it’s because you feel as though he is suffering enough for the both of you. “I’m okay,” you say. “Are you okay?”

He blinks wearily. “I think I’m okay,” he responds. “I might need a lollipop or something.”

You chuckle as your daughter chimes in, “I want a lollipop!”

“Oh, you definitely deserve a lollipop,” Rooster says happily, waving at the doctor as the three of you exit the office. “You probably deserve some stickers too. Maybe a trip to the toy store?” he says, turning to look at you hopefully.

You daughter starts bouncing in excitement on his arm. “Toy store! Toy store!”

You shake your head with a laugh. “Sure,” you reply.

Rooster lets out a giant sigh as the three of you step outside. “I’m so glad that’s over,” he says.

You smile at him warmly. “You were very brave, too, darling,” you say.

Rooster puts a hand on your daughter’s back to hold her up as he leans over to give you a kiss. “It wasn’t easy,” he mutters against your lips.

You laugh. “Well, I’m proud of you.”

He grins at you. “I probably deserve a treat, too,” he says with a wink.

“Daddy! You’re getting a lollipop!” your daughter reminds him.

Rooster Tag List:

Please feel free to let me know if you no longer wish to be tagged in Rooster fics/if you no longer consume Rooster content <3 The rest of the tags are in the comments!

@simp-for-fictional-people

@ollyoxenfrees

@iamabeautifulperson18

@living-in-my-imagination88

@wintercap89

@mavrellover91

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@dracosluvbot

@peoniarose

@annedub

[ukiiseikou]

the start of something new.

thoma x gn! reader. figure skating au

synposis: thoma's really nervous ever since he spotted you: skating prodigy, at the local rink he's volunteering at as the zamboni driver. a/n: this is part of a series called complementary figures, which is a figure skating au with the hyv characters!

"hi! sorry, this might be really weird, but can i get your autograph?" 

you look up at the voice from your phone, and you see a cute blonde guy giving you an awkward smile. there would be nothing weird about it, except for the fact he was just climbing down from the zamboni that was making it's rounds around your local rink a few minutes ago.

"oh, hey," you give him your best dazzling smile, "no problem! you got anything i can write with?"

"seriously? um, here!" he manages to scramble and produce a sharpie and a printed out picture of you at one of your competitions, a gold medal slung around your neck.

"aw, this was from two seasons ago! when i won the world champion gold for the first time."

you make small talk as you uncap the sharpie, finishing your signature with a flourish.

"what's your name?" you smile at him again.

"uh, thoma - t. h. o. m. a.," you laugh at how bright red he is as you scribble down a quick TO: THOMA above your signature.

"oh my god, thank you so much," he says, almost breathlessly as you hand the sharpie and photo back to him, "my parents used to watch your parents on TV. we used to be from mondstadt as well."

"mom and dad? haha, that's so sweet. when did you move here?”

“a few years ago,” he scratches the back of his neck, “maybe when i was, like, twelve? anyways, i never managed to get the same ice time as you, but i’ve been watching you a lot. archons, that sounds weird, right? sorry.”

“oh, it’s okay. actually, thanks for the support,” you let out another laugh as he frantically apologises, “i’ve been skating here since forever, i think everyone in this town has seen me fall once or twice.”

"thoma! the ice!" the both of you wince as the rink manager yells at him, gesturing to the buckets of ice used to patch up the surface of the rink.

"right, that," he mumbles. you watch as he troops over to the buckets of ice, picking up one with a spatula. turning to survey the ice, you see the various divots and holes that dot the ice, thanks to you and the other skaters, no doubt.

“here, let me help,” you watch as he pulls on his rental skates and go to grab your own bucket, taking off your guards as you step onto ice. he awkwardly follows behind, legs scrambling to keep up.

“haven’t - haven’t skated in a long time,” he says, after straightening up.

“you don’t skate often?” you’re scared he’s going to splat straight onto his face with the way he’s moving, so you move in closer, just in case he falls.

he shakes his head, “winter sports and me? not a great match. more of a track runner, actually. just here to earn some extra cash during the holidays. my friend skates here, uh, ayaka?”

“ayaka kamisato? i know her, the one who skates with her brother, right? i see her sometimes.”

you blink and suddenly thoma’s feet nearly slide out from under him as he bends to patch up a spot. he wobbles before regaining his balance.

you breathe out a sigh of relief as you round up on him, “here, bend at the waist, not the knees.”

“like this?” you cringe as he does exactly the opposite as what you just said.

“not quite… actually, just grab onto me,” you take his hands in yours, at which he sputters at. you laugh as you take him into the middle of rink, letting go of his hands to scoop some ice to patch up the surface of the ice beneath you.

“like this,” you demonstrate, and when he finally nails the pose you turn around with a self-satisfied grin to focus on the far end of the rink.

thoma short-circuits, but as he watches you busy yourself with inspecting the ice, he turns and does the same thing, wishing that a hole could open up in the ground and swallow him whole. the extra cash thing was true, but he’s had a major crush on you for years - but he swears its not for that reason alone. ayaka and ayato are here, so he gets to hang out with them in his free time and not worry about being bored out of his mind all day; and he likes helping out the neighbourhood whenever he can, and when he heard the rink manager fretting about not getting enough volunteers this summer, he naturally signed up.

“hey.”

he nearly slips and falls when he hears your voice next to his ear, and you laugh - which sounds like wedding bells.

“i finished my end of the rink, you done with your’s?”

“uh, yeah,” he stares down at the nearly empty bucket in his hands, guess he works fast when spaced out and imagining things.

“great!” you take his hands again, and he has no choice but to allow himself to be pulled back and forth by you.

“thoma, do you wanna get dinner together? maybe my parents can meet your’s someday, and give them an autograph, too.”

he doesn’t reply, but you’re plenty amused by his ums and ahs and shaky okays.

[steddieas-shegoes]

i wanna make you love me

for @subeddieweek day three with the prompts brat eddie and wet and choking

rated e | 2,978 words | please check ao3 for tags

Day one:  ao3 | tumblr Day two: ao3 | tumblr

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

He’s left on his knees, blindfolded.

There’s no sound in the room, nothing to give away what’s coming next.

Fingers in his hair. Hand around his throat. Lips against his ear.

“You’re helpless like this, aren’t you?”

Eddie whined.

Whining never got him anywhere except in more trouble, and sometimes Eddie really liked being in trouble.

And because Steve was always honest after a scene, he admitted that he loved when Eddie was a brat, loved to see him subtly ignore Steve’s directions and make little noises even when he was supposed to be quiet. Eddie played into it sometimes, but it came naturally for him to ignore orders, even when he was floating away in his head.

The hand around his throat tightened for a moment, barely enough to actually cut off his air, and then disappeared completely.

“I know what you want, but if you can’t be my good boy, you don’t get to have it. You know better,” Steve said from behind him.

Eddie’s hands weren’t tied, they hardly ever were if he was blindfolded. The only time he’d had to safeword was when he’d been tied up in bed and blindfolded with a gag in. He felt too helpless, past the point of enjoying whatever control Steve had and into dangerous territory. But he knew not to move them.

Moving them would mean punishment, and never the kind he actually wanted.

Steve’s fingers tightened in his hair, tugging at his scalp until he had no choice but to let his head fall backwards. He rested it against Steve’s thigh, a smug smile making its way across his face.

“You want me to be your good boy?” Eddie rasped out. “Maybe I don’t feel like being good.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, not even letting out a breath.

“I’m not spanking you.”

Eddie immediately pouted. It’s not that he thought he’d get what he wanted immediately, but that tone was definite, final.

“Not even one time?” Eddie hated not being able to see the look on Steve’s face. “Even if I promise to cry?”

Steve snorted. “I’m sure you’ll be crying soon enough, but it won’t be from my hand on your ass.”

Steve’s leg disappeared from behind him so quickly he nearly fell backwards. He managed to right himself just as Steve’s laugh hit his ears.

“Take away your sight and it’s like you can’t do anything, huh?” Steve teased. “I’ll just wait right here and you let me know when you wanna be good.”

“Hope you’re comfy. Could be a while,” Eddie responded, ignoring the heat on his cheeks at his mild embarrassment. Steve knew exactly what buttons to push and when, but Eddie knew exactly how hard to fight back to get what he wanted.

Steve was quiet. Eddie was quiet.

Everything was still.

Eventually, Eddie sighed. “Are you really gonna try to be more stubborn than me, a brat?”

“You’re barely a brat, Eddie. Just need to learn lessons the hard way, don’t you?” Steve sounded like he was sitting on his bed, but it was hard to know for sure. “I have all night. I’ve got a drink and a comfy bed. I’ll be fine.”

“You know I like being on my knees. I’ll be fine, too.”

Except he wasn’t. Already, all he could think about was how much he wanted to touch Steve, to be touched by Steve. His knees were sore, his arms were sore, his ass was sore from sitting on his feet this long. He was already close to giving in when the sound of Steve’s belt coming off distracted him.

He’d had plenty of thoughts about how that belt could be used before, and wouldn’t really be opposed to any of those options now.

But the belt hit the floor and the bed creaked.

Steve wasn’t using the belt on him. Steve was relaxing in his bed. Probably not even paying any attention to Eddie or his hard and leaking cock.

Fucking rude.

Eddie’s fingers tapped against each other behind his back, maybe a song or maybe just impatience. Probably impatience. His head wasn’t full of anything except irritation at being ignored.

He knew that’s what Steve wanted, for the irritation to win and he would give in to whatever Steve desired. He’d crawl on his hands and knees over to the bed, apologizing for being a brat and begging to be touched, to get his mouth on Steve’s cock, anything.

Eddie would be lying if he didn’t want that, too.

But more than that, he wanted to see what would happen if he didn’t give in for once, if Steve finally got tired of the attitude and did something about it.

Maybe he’d actually, finally fuck him.

Everything they’d done until now had been hands and mouths only, which was amazing and better than anything Eddie could have expected from anyone, let alone Steve.

After a hard day at school, coming back home and knowing that Steve would be over after his shift at Family Video to take care of him or to bring him back to his house to let him get loud would turn his entire day around. It happened often enough that he knew he was becoming somewhat dependent on it. But with nearly two months of this under their belt, Eddie was starting to wonder if maybe he wasn’t the only one with feelings far beyond the trust between friends.

Steve let out a groan.

And then Eddie heard it: the slick noise of him stripping his own cock, probably using the lube from his bedside table. Or his own spit.

God, that made Eddie see red.

It was his job to spit on Steve’s cock, his��job to let his hand or mouth be used by Steve so he could get off.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he realized this was Steve’s punishment for him, making him listen to him get off without him.

“Wish that was my hand,” Eddie said with a smirk.

If he played this right, maybe Steve would get desperate enough to give in.

“I bet you do, baby,” Steve replied, breathless, like he was already close to the edge. How long had he been worked up? How had he been so quiet before?

“Or my mouth,” Eddie supplied, feeling a little less confident that Steve would give in.

“Mhm,” Steve said before moaning, his hand speeding up on his cock.

Eddie wanted to watch. He wanted his mouth around him. He wanted Steve’s hands in his hair, pushing him down until he was choking, spit making a mess under them. He wanted to rip this blindfold off and let the image of Steve getting himself off be burned permanently into his brain, used for the nights when Steve was busy shuffling kids around or hanging out with Robin or working a closing shift.

“Can I please watch?” Eddie was desperate, okay? Being a brat came second to seeing Steve’s thick cock leaking precum while he fucked his own hand.

“Oh, I dunno,” Steve’s hand stopped. “I think you should have to listen to me get off since you decided to touch yourself without permission.”

That was how all of this started.

—

Steve had told him not to touch himself last night when he left the trailer, wanted to see if he could go a few days without it and said he had a plan to make it worth his while.

Of course, Eddie, still wrung out from two back-to-back orgasms from Steve’s mouth, had agreed with no argument.

It didn’t occur to him how difficult that would be until he woke up humping his mattress and whimpering Steve’s name.

He’d done okay the first part of the day, despite the rough start, because he’d overslept and had to rush to school. He made it all the way through his band practice with the guys, skipping the song he wrote about Steve so he wouldn’t face any unexplainable challenges. Made it through dinner with Wayne, though he started to feel a bit jittery when he realized it was nearly seven and Steve hadn’t called to let him know he was leaving work yet.

Those jitters got worse when Wayne left for his night shift, now officially a permanent change to his schedule. It was great for having Steve over, but kinda sucked for the nights when he’d be alone.

He paced the floor, tried playing his guitar, tried smoking.

When the phone rang, Eddie rushed to grab it, only to be told by Steve that he was running a bit late and wouldn’t be able to stay long.

Something in Eddie snapped when he hung up.

His hand immediately went to the button on his jeans, popping it open and shoving his hand down the front of his pants.

Nothing except getting off was on his mind.

That’s how Steve found him: pants at his knees while he fisted his own cock while sitting on the couch waiting for him.

At first, he hadn’t said anything, just stared at him until Eddie stopped moving, chest heaving as he tried to find his breath.

“Get in my car.”

Not even a hello, not even a wave.

He didn’t even stay inside to see if Eddie was listening. He left the trailer and got in his car.

Eddie followed. Of course, he did.

The ride to Steve’s house was silent, radio turned off to add to Eddie’s stress.

He was still rock hard in his pants, and the longer he went without any relief, the more painful it got.

When they got to Steve’s house, he got out, not waiting for Eddie as he walked up to the front door and unlocked it. Eddie stumbled out of the car and into the house, feeling just a bit on edge in more ways than one.

“So I ask you not to touch yourself less than 24 hours ago. I even tell you there’s a reward in it for you if you can do it. And what do you do?” Steve’s arms are folded across his chest as he stands at the foot of the stairs.

“Um. Touch myself?”

“You wanna explain?”

Eddie hated that tone. It sounded like every time a teacher found one of his papers lacking despite all his efforts, or when a cop caught him dealing in the woods last year. It was different when it was Steve, but it still annoyed him, put him on edge.

So he responded as he always did.

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

And now he was suffering.

–

Not actually. Like, he wasn’t in pain. He was probably going to come untouched soon just from the combination of everything happening, and the embarrassment of that would probably be emotionally painful, but he’d been through worse.

It was just hard to know he was missing a good show and probably wouldn’t even get to have Steve’s hands on him because he was impatient.

So maybe the punishment was working.

Eddie felt himself whimper.

“Color?” Steve asked, because he was always paying attention, even when Eddie deserved this treatment. He was always more concerned about Eddie being okay.

Eddie evaluated himself. Mentally, he was okay, other than being frustrated. But physically, his legs were starting to actually hurt to a point beyond the kind he enjoyed. He was losing feeling in his feet and hated the pins and needles that came with feeling coming back.

“Yellow.”

Steve was in front of him within seconds, hand on his head, loosening the blindfold.

The blindfold wasn’t a problem. Maybe he could convince him to put it back once he was sitting somewhere more comfortable.

“What do you need, Eds?” Steve’s voice was soft, tender compared to where it had been all night.

“Maybe a chair? Or the bed. My legs hurt.” Eddie blinked up at him, feeling overwhelmed by seeing Steve’s completely naked body in front of him so suddenly.

“Alright. Come up to the bed,” Steve lifted him under his arms, taking most of his weight when Eddie nearly crumbled back to the floor.

His legs were maybe a bit more numb than he realized.

“Shit, baby, why didn’t you say something sooner?” Steve asked as he half-carried him to his bed. “I’m trying to punish you in a sexy way, not an actual painful way.”

Eddie snorted. “I didn’t realize it was this bad. I was kinda lost in my thoughts.”

“You weren’t in space yet, though.”

“No, just thinking about how I’m an idiot and how good you are at knowing exactly what type of punishment gets to me,” Eddie grimaced as he sat back, flexing his knees and ankles to get feeling back in them.

“Well, you like attention and you like being able to touch me, so taking those two things away will definitely get to you.”

“You’re right, but it hurt my feelings, Stevie,” Eddie smiled at him to let him know it didn’t actually hurt him.

“You need anything else?” Steve asked, massaging his legs to get blood flowing again. “Water? Do you need to stop?”

“No, no. I’m good. Maybe just another minute.”

Steve nodded, lifting his leg and kissing his knee.

Eddie watched, swallowed back the words he wanted to say but knew he couldn’t.

This was all he’d have. Just this friendship, this trust, and the care required for a BDSM relationship.

He could keep being okay with that.

“No blindfold though,” Steve said. “You’re gonna watch me take care of myself.”

“But-”

“Nope.” Steve’s hand circled his own cock, not moving, just making it obvious that he was planning on it. “You know what you can do for me, though?”

“What?” Eddie didn’t like the tone of his voice or the growing smile on his face.

“You could spit on my cock, make sure it’s nice and wet for me to get myself off.”

Eddie groaned. He absolutely hated Steve. Hated that Steve was still pushing him in just the right ways. Hated that he actually loved it, never wanted him to stop.

“And if I don’t?” Eddie dared to ask.

“Then I stop now and drive you home.”

Shit. Eddie knew he wasn’t bluffing.

Eddie leaned over, making sure to keep his hands in his own lap, gathered spit in his mouth, and let it drip down onto Steve’s cock.

Steve moaned as it happened, keeping his eyes locked on Eddie’s as he let it pool against his fingers before sliding his hand up and down his length.

Eddie spit again, letting his gaze drop to the way it glistened on Steve’s cock. Mesmerized, Eddie kept his mouth open, letting whatever spit that gathered fall from his mouth.

“Such a good boy for me. Love it when you’re good.” Steve’s other hand nudged Eddie’s face up, eyes piercing him with a hungry look. “Kinda love it when you’re bad, too.”

If Eddie hadn’t already been rock hard for hours, practically edging himself with his own hand and thoughts, then maybe those words wouldn’t have been enough to make him come.

Steve froze, looking down at Eddie’s still twitching cock, the mess he made across his own stomach and thighs. “Holy shit. C’mere,” Steve’s hands grabbed him, tugging him roughly into his lap and spreading the mess of Eddie across both of them and the sheets.

Steve’s lips were hot against his, bruising, rough, unyielding.

Eddie’d never been kissed like that, not even by Steve.

If he could get hard this second from it, he would.

“That was so fucking hot,” Steve gasped against his lips, barely breaking the kiss to speak.

Eddie whimpered, rutting his ass against Steve’s still slick cock, hoping to add to the mess between them.

Steve’s hand ran up his chest, squeezing a nipple between his fingers as he bucked up, seeking more friction. He didn’t need to say anything for Eddie to know he was close.

His hand inched closer to Eddie’s throat, and for a moment, just one, Eddie panicked.

They’d talked about this. Eddie said he wouldn’t trust anyone but Steve, Steve admitted he wouldn’t feel comfortable doing it for anyone but Eddie, they agreed on what to do if Eddie couldn’t talk and needed to safeword out.

But the moment Steve’s fingers wrapped around his throat, Eddie melted.

Steve barely applied any pressure, just let the weight of his hand rest on his skin, holding him with a silent threat and a strength he never used except when he wanted to throw Eddie around and make him feel good.

“Can’t believe how lucky I am,” Steve said against his jaw, frantically chasing his own orgasm while Eddie was barely holding himself up in his lap. “Get to have you like this. All to myself.”

Steve’s breathy whine gave way to his hand falling from Eddie’s neck.

Warmth hit Eddie’s ass and thighs and he realized the angle of Steve’s cock was almost perfect to slide inside him, if he were loose, if he were wet in the right spot. He closed his eyes at the thought of Steve just slipping into him now, no prep. It was nearly enough to have his cock filling again.

“Fuck,” Steve laughed against Eddie’s shoulder. “I love you.”

Eddie tensed.

Steve tensed.

Steve pulled away, panic all over his face.

Eddie didn’t-

He couldn’t-

He got off of Steve’s lap, crashing down to earth.

“Eddie-”

Eddie stood and ran.

He could handle not being loved.

He was used to not being loved the way he needed and wanted to be.

But he couldn’t handle the small flicker of hope being dashed in his chest. He couldn’t handle the pity Steve would show, apologizing for saying something he didn’t mean in the heat of the moment.

He couldn’t handle how much he wanted it to be true.

Day four: ao3 | tumblr

[the-s1lly-corner]

can i get creeps (of ur choice) w a s/o who is TERRIBLE at baking yet always trying 2 get them to eat what they make?? (inspired by me bc *story time* i made sugar cookies a few days ago and my gf said they tasted like isopropyl alcohol :|!.)

Various crps x reader who sucks at baking

I dropped a heavy ass pan on my foot OOOOOOOEIR HISSHISS genuinely mad too because I dropped it the day before I was planning to start getting back into my workout routine

Characters: laughing jack, ticci toby, jeff the killer

Notes: reader is GN, reader is trying their best :(, jeff doesn't have a filter nor is he gentle, they all suck at baking too dwdw, written on mobile

CWs: none

LAUGHING JACK

He himself is a horrible baker for two reasons.... he adds way too much sugar for one, and he doesn't fully pay attention to the recipe... there's a reason he sticks to his candies

He does tease you for your mess ups but he still ears everything you give to him- being a clown that doesn't get sick like humans do comes in handy when trying to make your partner feel better

Your lack of skill does not stop him from making requests for goodies for you to make- surely you're a better baker than him! Msybe.... hopefully... even if you aren't he's still going to try

Your number 1 fan, you can give him something burnt to a crisp and he's going to demolish it in seconds .... he says it gives your food character!

TICCI TOBY

Can't bake OR cook so he kind of feels like he doesn't have much room to talk BUUUUUUUUT he sometimes let's what he wants to say spill out without much thought... BUT he does try to redirect to keep you happy

Doesn't much care for sweet stuff in general, he prefers sour stuff and candies but he's still going to brute force himself into taking a bite of whatever you've made

Subtly lingers around you while you're in the kitchen and reads over the recipe you're looking at- this kind of leads to him picking up some skille for himself

^tries to correct you if you've gotten something mixed up or wrong.... nearly launches himself over the counter when you almost fall to the "mixing salt and sugar" mistake

JEFF THE KILLER

Like toby he has no filter, but he does have the mind to try to find something positive to say to sweeten the knee-jerk reaction

Doesn't understand why you might become upset or get hung up on his words- he can't bake either and he doesn't let it bother him... he's just not cut out for baking

Takes him a good hot minute before he starts to understand that you're genuinely trying and feel horrible over not getting things right... will apologize and offers to get (steal) you a cook book or something if you're struggling with recipes

I promise he's not trying to be backhanded with the cook book offer

[miheartsedthings]

Long Drive

SFW

You can’t sleep. Your body too full of a thrumming sadness you can’t be rid of. The source of which you can’t pin down. Your heart feels stuck to your sternum and you turn over in bed again searching for some kind of relief. 

“Can’t sleep?”

Billy’s husky voice finds you in the dark. 

“Not even a little.” 

The two of you climb into the car, you bring your thin blanket and he doesn’t bother putting on a shirt. He’s warm enough to brave the spring chill without one. You let the passenger seat back and watch dark trees slide by the window. A navy sky empty of stars. His hand comes groping under the blanket, searching for your hand and you offer it, lacing your fingers with his. 

“What’s got you sad?” 

“How’d you know?”

He gives you a skeptical look. 

“All this time, you still think you can keep a secret from me?”

It makes you smile, however sadly. 

“Just feeling…far away…don’t know why.”

He nods slowly, his eyes watching the horizon while he mulls over what you’ve said. 

“From me?”

You shrug. 

“From everything. Just…feel like I’m missing something.” 

He brings your hand to his lips. 

“I’m here.” 

You smile. 

“I know.” You say “I know you’re here. I know I’m not really on my own I just…” You don’t have the words to finish this feeling. It has no particular name. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

He heaves a deep sigh. 

“Steve texted me.” 

This rings alarm bells, you raise the seat to sit up and look at him. 

“Yeah? Is he okay?”

He shakes his head.

“The nightmares came back. Bouncing’ off the fuckin walls over there.” 

You groan, your heart filling with worry. 

“How can he still live in that town?”

He shrugs. 

“The kids are there. He won’t leave till they graduate.” 

“Fuck.” Your head falls against the rest. “I worry about him,” you say. “A guy like that shouldn’t live alone. He needs people around.”

“I told him,” Billy grumbles, clearly worried about his friend. The sensitive boy he sometimes thinks of as a brown-eyed puppy. He rifles through the glovebox, retrieving his cigarettes with a huff. 

“You told him he can live with us, right? If he wants to?”

“I fuckin’ told him, baby,” he says around the cigarrette. He rolls down the window a second too late, filling the car with the heady musk of smoke. “He’s a stubborn asshole.” 

You cough and he apologizes, giving your knee an affectionate squeeze. You tell him it’s fine and crack your window as well. The two of you sit in silence for a while. Winding through streets in no particular order. 

“You think people can feel it when you're thinking about them?” Billy glances over at you. Unsure how to answer. “I mean, psychically. Like…I think about it with celebrities sometimes. When there's thousands of people thinking about you all at once, it has to have some effect. Maybe it just makes them sneeze.” He grins a little, taking another long hit from his Marlboro. “So maybe Steve’s sneezing his brains out right about now.” 

“I hope so. I hope he knows we give a shit.” 

“I think he knows you care. You tried hard after everything. He trusts you now.”

“Hmm.” 

He takes another long pull from his cigarette and angles the smoke toward the window. He avoids downtown and all that traffic, choosing instead to wind through the empty streets curving toward the San Bernadino mountains. 

“Are you gonna call him?” 

He sighs. Already his cigarette is nearly gone. 

“And say what?” 

“I don’t know. Sometimes people just need to hear they’re gonna be okay. And it means something coming from you.” 

He scoffs. The cigarette is done, and he scrubs it against the heel of his shoe before flicking it out the window. 

“You don’t think he listens to you?”

“If he listened to me he’d leave that asscrack of a town.”

You shrug, slumping down in your seat. 

“Leaving your home can be scary.”

“So fuckin’ what? Shit gets scary, do it anyway.”

You can’t help laughing. 

“I knew it, I knew you read that book!”

You can see him start to blush in the cool blue light from the dashboard. You’re talking about the book his therapist recommended the year after moving out of Hawkins. Do It Scared. He’d insisted he wasn’t interested in reading it, yet here he was quoting it like scripture. Your teasing gets to him, and he retaliates by jamming his fingers into the ticklish spot on your side. You’re forced against the door where you can’t wiggle out of his reach. Instantly you’re apologizing, begging for him to stop through painfully uncontrollable laughter. 

He’s smiling when he relents, satisfied to have taken his revenge. You settle back in your seat with a sigh. Followed by a yawn. 

“There it is,” he says, affection softening his tone. 

He brings your hand to his mouth again. Each of your fingers gets a turn against his lips. You watch him, taking in the details of his profile. You've looked at him so many times you've completely lost count, but every time you do it feels new. You discover something in the beauty of him that makes you realize again how much you want him nearby. This time, you watch his careful gaze as he looks out onto the road ahead. His lashes, tail lights shining into ocean blue. He’s worrying. 

“Anyway. Not everyone can just barrel through stuff. He’s scared and he could use a call from you.” 

“Alright, alright. I’ll check on the little dweeb. Happy?”

“Very,” you answer with a sleepy smile. 

You find yourselves far from home, wondering on and on as the hours roll by. You both have class in the morning, but there’s something so comforting about the car and the darkened streets. You waste time, long stretches of it going by without a word spoken between you. Not much needs to be said in company as familiar as this. You’re able to be together, letting go your tensions with every new scratch of mile. Drowsy and quiet until sunrise. 

[impala-dreamer]

Save Me - Part One

A Short Story

~ Sometimes, when life seems the brightest, shadows creep in. After announcing their engagement to the world, Jensen's fiancé is kidnapped. With the help of a friend, she tries to fight her way back home to him.~

Jensen Ackles x F!Reader, Dean Winchester

7,160 Words Total. Part one: 3,209

Warnings: My kind of Super Angst. Blood. Injury. Kidnapping. It's really sad...

A/N: Written for @jacklesversebingo "No one's coming to save you. Get up!"

PART ONE ~ PART TWO

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Her thoughts were hazy; her head throbbing from the repeated blows. The blood that had trickled down her neck had dried and she could feel how matted her hair was around the wounds.

Her muscles ached, her skin was bruised and broken in more than one spot. The cramped trunk she’d been forced into and the bumpy ride had nearly crippled her. She’d tried to count the turns they took, the miles they raced across, but disorientation and fear had been too much to overcome.

Wrists and knees bound in scratchy, rough rope and eyes blinded by a scarf, Y/N was led from the car and dragged up a few stairs. She could hear a lock turn and the hinges of a door creak. Boots on a wooden floor; the heavy breathing of her captor.

The house was warm. Heat was pulsing up from hissing radiators and the smell hung heavy in the air, mixing with the stench of stale cigarettes and rotting trash. Still, she was grateful for the warmth. January in Indianapolis was freezing and the trunk hadn’t exactly been insulated.

“Where are you taking me?” she whimpered, cringing as the fingers around her upper arms dug into her flesh.

There was no answer.

“Please! Don’t do this. We can work something out.”

When she refused to take another step, she was yanked forward and thrown into another room. Her sneakers squeaked and she recognized the sound of cheap linoleum flooring under her rubber soles.

A kitchen. Knives. A backdoor, maybe.

She twisted against the tight hold. “Please, just let me go. I swear to god I won’t go to the cops. No charges pressed. Please. We can get out of this mess.”

The giant hand gripped her harder and Y/N groaned at the pain.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

A gruff voice shouted by her ear. “Shut up!”

She bit her tongue but refused to give up. “Let me go!”

With all of her strength, she pivoted to the right, shoving her elbow hard into the solid body behind her. She heard a pained grunt and the hand holding her released. She spun around the other way and tried to run, but it was no use. Still tied, her knees buckled and she began to fall.

The hands were back, yanking her harshly back onto her feet. She screamed and fist collided with her jaw. Sparks erupted in the blackness of her vision, pain spread across her face.

“Told you to shut up!”

Y/N held her breath and squeezed her lips shut.

Tugged forward again, she stumbled deeper into the kitchen and heard a door open. Cold air hit her face and she shuddered.

“Where are we going?” Tears soaked into the blindfold. “Please…”

Hands released her and Y/N teetered on the edge of what felt like the top of a staircase.

A basement.

She panicked.

“No, no, no!”

“I told you to shut the fuck up!”

His fist connected with her temple and Y/N fell. She counted four stairs before every sensation and thought vanished.

“You sure we should be doing this here?”

Y/N looked over from the edge of the bed at Jensen who was fixing his hair in the mirror. He was primped and picture perfect for a busy day at the convention. Tight black tee under a denim jacket, immaculately ripped jeans, and brown boots. Add to it all the longer hair and a beard- he looked a little too good.

He caught her eye in the mirror and smiled. “I do. I think this is the best place to do it.”

Y/N squirmed nervously and lifted her left leg onto her knee so she could retie her sneaker for the tenth time. Her engagement ring glimmered and she sighed happily at the diamond.

It was perfect.

He was perfect.

And yet-

“What if they don’t like me? Or they get mad, or-”

Jensen spun around and dipped his chin, looking at her with a stern gaze. “Then I’ll kill them. All of them.”

His voice had dropped to a deep, rough growl and Y/N laughed.

“OK, Dean.”

Jensen exhaled loudly and straightened up, returning to himself. He closed the space between them with two long strides and fell to one knee. He took her hand, the same hand that he’d held two weeks ago when he’d asked her to marry him.

“I promise,” he said softly. “They’re gonna love you.”

Her cheeks warmed and her tension eased.

“How can you be sure?”

Green eyes beamed as he smiled.

“Because I love you.”

Pain woke her.

Stabbing, white-hot pain that spread through the entirety of her left side. Though she couldn’t tell where it manifested from, several points along her body had made contact with the concrete floor and spikes of pain radiated from each one.

Her cheek was smashed against the frozen floor and her nose ached. Gingerly, she rolled onto her back. The scarf over her eyes had shifted a bit and she could see a faint stream of light surrounded by creeping shadows.

The air was frigid and damp, and smelled like mold. She shivered as the cold seeped through her thin clothing and into her soul.

Fear wrapped itself around her lungs and squeezed. Her breathing quickened, her sore jaw trembled. She tasted blood, felt every bruise, every splinter of bone. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the last twelve hours.

Late evening. The convention center. Walking from the loading dock to the back parking lot. Low hanging ceiling; giant yellow lights. Cars jammed in every spot. A dirty white van. A shiny black Explorer. An old gold Camry.

The Camry.

Something heavy hitting her head. Her ears rang. The warmth of blood oozed across her scalp.

She could feel the trunk closing around her, the thin upholstery. The stink of gasoline wrinkled her nose.

Her chest burned. Her throat closed.

She screamed.

“Somebody help me! Help!”

She thrashed against the ground; ropes still would tight around her wrists and legs.

“Help!”

Turning her face back to the concrete, she wiggled her forehead against the stone, pushing the blindfold up and away from her eyes. She blinked into the darkness and let out a hopeless cry.

The basement wasn’t big, but it was old and dark. Light streamed down from the door at the top of the staircase but she’d rather not have any.

Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, spiders lurked in corners, ghosts swept like cold breath over her skin.

“Please…” Tears flowed freely, dripping down her cheeks and onto the floor. She let go, sobbing into the darkness, lost and terrified. “Help me…”

The stage was bigger than she thought it would be; the curtains heavier. She stood off to the side, hiding in the wings while Jensen awed the crowd.

He really was something magnificent. With a tiny smile, he could captivate a crowd. One well-timed wink could send them to their knees, have them swooning and begging for more.

Y/N watched happily as he answered questions and animatedly told a few stories about his work on The Boys. He had a million stories and she would never get tired of hearing them.

She could feel the hour waning and nerves crept up her spine. She steadied her breathing and twirled the platinum ring on her finger. It was too big, she thought, but it didn’t matter. It could be a lump of camel dung and she’d love it. He’d given it to her.

Finally, Jensen cleared his throat and threw a glance over his shoulder at her. It was time.

“I’m sure most of you have heard the rumors,” he said, microphone clutched in his left hand. “So, I thought we’d put them to rest right now.”

The audience’s anticipation was nearly tangible. Hopeful silence rang through the room.

“If you’ll indulge me, I’d like to introduce you to my fiance…”

Right arm extended, Jensen gestured to Y/N and she took a deep breath before stepping out into the bright lights.

Her hands were numb. The skin around her wrists was bloody and stinging. In a panic, she twisted her hands, chewed on the knots, screamed through her teeth.

The desperate cries rang off the leaky stone walls and bounced back at her. She was sure that no one outside would be able to hear her, even if they weren’t in the middle of nowhere.

She had no idea, really, where she was. She did know that they had driven for a long while, and most of the journey had been on uneven, unpaved roads. Surely, they were well outside of the city and anywhere there might be neighbors nearby to hear her pleas for help.

Giving up and afraid of breaking her teeth on the knot, she rolled onto her knees and carefully shuffled over to the stairs. The wooden banister was old and unfinished, just bare wood hammered into place. She rubbed the rope against the edge, hoping to fray the strands and break free.

“What are you gonna do once you get those ropes off?”

Y/N froze and looked around, searching the shadows for the source of the familiar voice.

“Hello?”

“You got a plan?”

“What?” She squinted into the shadows but there was nothing there. She was alone.

“I said, do you have a plan to get out of here?”

“Who’s there!”

A deep, kind laugh. “You know who it is, Y/N/N. What you don’t know is how to get out of here.”

Her heart raced. She did know who it was, but she wouldn’t admit it. If she was hearing his voice, she was going insane. Or she was concussed, which seemed more likely.

Can you go crazy from that?

“Depends on how hard they hit you, I guess,” he said.

Y/N grit her teeth and tried to ignore him. She went back to work furiously rubbing against the post.

“Keep going, you almost got it.”

She sighed. “Go away.”

Another laugh, softer, under his breath. “You don’t mean that. You need me.”

Y/N groaned and kept at her task. Tiny specks of dust and fibers danced in the faint light and she picked up speed, forcing it harder into the wood.

The rope snapped before she could steady herself and she fell forward, smashing her forehead into the corner of the post.

“Fuck!”

Dizzy, she tore the broken twine away and sat back on her ass. She kicked her legs out and untied the rope around her legs. Finally able to move, she jumped to her feet.

The sudden movement was too much for her head and she fell onto the steps, palms crushing into the damp wood.

“Be careful…”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the phantom voice and crawled on aching hands and knees up the steep stairs.

Once at the top, she held her breath and pressed her ear to the door, listening.

If anyone was near, they made no sound.

Carefully, she stood up and grabbed the knob. Praying for release, she turned the brass but it caught halfway around. She turned it again and again hoping something would change, but it was locked.

“Hello!” She beat against the door, kicked it hard. “Help me! Hello!” Fists pounded, her throat tore. “Let me out!”

Someone on the other side kicked at the door and it rattled in the frame.

“Shut the fuck up!” he bellowed, scaring her even more.

Y/N jerked back from the door and felt all hope drain away as boots thudded across the linoleum and the lights went out.

To her surprise, the audience cheered. Smiles beamed up at her from the front row, applause washed over her.

Timidly, and with Jensen’s encouragement, she stepped up to the microphone stand and smiled.

“Hey, guys.”

Her cheeks were burning, her eyes squinting in the stage lights. She raised a hand to shield her face from the glare and looked out into the room. Every seat was filled and fans stood along the back wall. It seemed everyone at the con was in that room, watching Jensen give his big announcement.

She tried to take the mic but her hand was shaking terribly. Jensen came to her aid and pulled it from the stand. He kissed her cheek.

“You’re gonna be great,” he whispered. “They already love you, just go with it.”

Already, people were queueing up on either side of the stage, ready to ask a question should the lines be opened again.

“How’s it going?” she asked, receiving a loud cheer in reply. “Yeah, me too.” She laughed and took a shy step back. Her heart was racing, her lips hurt from smiling.

Jensen watched her with bright, loving eyes. He placed his big hand on her lower back and gave a gentle push.

His touch calmed her instantly. She turned to look up at him and everything else faded away. She’d be fine, he was with her. Always.

“Well, show them,” he said into the mic.

Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Go on…”

With dramatic, mock reluctance, she extended her left hand and showed off her new ring. It sparkled in the lights and the fans went wild.

She checked the door three more times. She twisted the knob until her palms were raw. She kicked at the wood until her legs ached.

In the darkness, she felt her way down the stairs and collapsed onto the floor. Her head was pounding and a sharp, unending ring blasted loud in her ears.

She lay on her right side, shivering and sweating at the same time. Her face was clammy and her eyes felt as if they were on fire.

“You have a fever,” he said. “That’s not good.”

Y/N turned towards the voice and gasped.

Leaning against the staircase railing was a ghost of her imagination, a handsome vision in a denim jacket and ripped jeans. Red flannel peeked out beneath the jacket and his pockets were full. His jaw was shaded with light stubble; his hair was short and fluffed upwards. His forehead was creased and he crossed his ankles and arms, staring down at her.

She shook her head but her vision wouldn’t clear. He was blurry but obviously there.

“Dean?”

He chuckled. “Who else?”

She sighed painfully and closed her eyes. “You’re not real.”

The apparition pushed off from the post and shrugged. “I’m more real than anything else you got right now. Who are you gonna talk to? That rat over there?”

She cringed. “What!”

He laughed outright and rubbed at the back of his neck. “You’re gonna have to toughen up real quick, Sweetheart, if you’re gonna get out of this.”

“There’s no way out of this.”

Dean crouched down, set his forearms on his knees, getting close to her. “There’s always a way out. You may not like it, but there’s always a way.”

Something caught in the back of her throat and she coughed hard. Violent pain erupted across her middle and she screamed, folding in on herself.

Dean’s worried hands floated over her body; his face contorted with helplessness.

“Hey. Hey! You’re OK. Just breathe.”

She coughed again and her limbs spasmed, twisting inwards.

“Hey! Y/N/N, come on.”

She imagined she could feel the heaviness of his hand on her shoulder.

“Shh… It’s a broken rib… or six. You’re gonna be OK.”

Her eyes were wide, her skin paled. “Can’t… breathe.”

“Hey, hang on… Stay with me!”

Another cough let loose a spray of crimson from her lips and Y/N’s eyes rolled back.

Dean’s voice echoed in her head and everything else faded away.

He kissed her on stage. In front of everyone. In front of a thousand cameras flashing and videos rolling. He kissed her hard, dipped her over his arm.

Y/N was embarrassed and thrilled and in love. It was hard to contain or sort through the emotions running through her, and when they walked off stage together, she started to cry.

Jensen spun around and bent down to reach her eye level.

“Baby, no… what’s wrong?”

She shook her head and tried to look away, but two giant hands framed her face and held her there.

“What’s going on?” he asked, green eyes flooded with worry. “Did I do something?”

She smiled and sniffled. “No. No, Jen, you didn’t. I’m just…” She took a shaky breath. “I’m so fucking happy.”

She took a shaky breath and lifted her head from the frozen concrete. The chill had entered her bones, chilling the marrow and numbing her digits. Her joints ached; the breaks in her body stung. She wiped at the dried blood on her mouth and tried to sit up.

It hurt too much to move.

“I’m thirsty,” she croaked. Her throat was raw and her voice crackled.

“You gotta get outta here.”

She growled. “Ya think? How?” She pushed up on one arm and glared his way.

Dean was standing in the dark next to the stairs. Hands shoved in his pockets; bottom lip tugged harshly between his teeth.

“I don’t even know where ‘here’ is!”

He sighed. “I know.”

“Or who they are!”

He pursed his lips, took a breath. “I know-”

“Or why the fuck I’m locked in a basement!”

Dean rolled his head on his shoulders, looking for answers on the ceiling. “That’s it.” He snapped his fingers and looked down at her.

“What’s it?”

“Why are you here?”

She rolled onto her ass and slowly tucked her knees to her chest. Every movement hurt, but it was better than freezing to death laid out like a ragdoll.

“I already said, I don’t know.”

He dropped his chin, narrowed his gaze. “Think.”

She shook her head. “I have no fucking idea.”

“They haven’t touched you,” he noted.

She scoffed. “Um… I don’t know if you recall that I’ve been bludgeoned and shoved into a trunk and beaten and-”

Dean held up his hand, surrendering and asking for patience. “I mean, they haven’t… touched touched you.”

“You mean like-”

“Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand down his face.

“So they’re not gonna like… rape me or anything. That’s good.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.” He scratched his head. “So why are you here? What do they want from you?”

Y/N shrugged and winced at a new found pain. Her neck was stiff, her spine tingled.

“Think!”

She startled. “I don’t know!”

“Think. What’s missing?”

“I don’t-” Her head hurt. Her vision unfocused.

“Come on, kid. Think.”

“My… my ring.” She reached for the diamond, but her finger was bare. “My ring is gone.”

Dean hummed. “Yeah. But what’s still here?”

She took stock of herself, struggling to remember what she’d worn that morning and what was left.

“My necklace,” she answered, touching her clavicle. “My jewelry. They didn’t take anything else.”

Dean came closer as he led her thought process along. “So, they…”

She swallowed hard. “This isn’t a robbery or anything. They don’t want to rape me. They… It’s got something to do with you.” She looked up into green eyes and a hard expression. “I mean, with- with Jensen.”

TO BE CONTINUED... Part Two

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[stevie-petey]

first of all: the new chapter was AMAZING as always!! i know you are probably so so so busy with move in and classes starting and writing come home already, but i had a blurb idea (and it will obviously ALWAYS be dustin and steve interaction) of steve hanging out with dustin alone sometime soon after you get together, and them talking about it for the first time? it doesn't have to be any particular way i'm just SO curious what dustin's reaction was beyond the knee-jerk "ew you kissed my sister but also thank god because it took you long enough you moron"

stebe n dust <333

enjoy !

“you sure youre okay with driving dustin to mikes?”

steve rolls his eyes fondly at you. “yes, angel. its not even a ten minute drive. i can handle the kid.”

“i know. its just,” you bite your lip, unsure of how to voice what youre thinking. your brows scrunch together and steve thinks youre painfully adorable when youre overthinking. “its too hot for him to bike there, but you and i just started dating and dustin is… well. hes dustin.”

“you worried he’ll lecture me or something?”

“more like ask really invasive questions.”

steve laughs and kisses your hand, body leaning over the counter at your work. hes spent the entire days at bookstrordinary just to talk to you since scoops burned down. when he isnt job searching with robin, hes here with you.

“have some faith in me, y/n. im a big boy, i can take care of myself.”

you blink at him. “you cried yesterday when a lizard ran across your leg.”

“okay, thats entirely different. that thing looked at me with its beady little eyes and dared me to fight him.” steve shudders. “that thing was sentient.”

“youre really not making me feel any better about this, honey.” you groan, already dreading whatever your brother will say to him. youre sure dustin will somehow give the most bizarre, overly obnoxious yet endearing lecture known to man.

steve rolls his eyes again and grabs his keys, reluctantly pulling away from you. “i bet the kid forgot we’re even together now. relax, i’ll be back in no time.”

you call one last good luck to him before hes hone, leaving you alone in the store as the late july heat simmers the air.

at first everything is great. dustin is waiting for steve in the driveway and hops inside the car without any complaints. he turns the radio one and even smiles at steve.

but then, as dustin always does, he opens his mouth.

“i better not catch you sucking face with my sister.”

“dustin!” steve blanches, utterly mortified by what the boy has said. he almost veers off the road with how violently he cringes.

“im just saying! you two are weirdly touchy, and now that youre together, which by the way took you way too long to even do,” dustin looks pointedly at steve, who sighs. “i dont want you getting any gross ideas.”

the older teen rubs his face tiredly. he lasted three minutes. three blissful, quiet minutes. “good to know youre happy for us, then.”

dustin thinks for a moment. “well, i guess y/n could do worse. better than jonathan, at least.”

“thanks, dustin.” steve deflates, not at all believing the kid.

dustin recognizes the apprehension and he uncomfortably shifts in his head. he doesnt necessarily want to be all touchy-feely with the guy, but he also recognizes how much you love him. how good you and steve are together.

coughing, dustin looks out the window. he knows this is what youd want. “im happy she found you, steve.”

by now the wheelers driveway can be seen, but because steve is so startled by what dustin has confessed, he almost misses the turn.

clearing his own throat awkwardly, steve parks the car and looks at dustin. “you, uh. really mean that?”

“please dont make this any more unbearable.” the kid quips, leaning as far away from him as possible.

“right,” steve clears his throat again and unlocks the passenger door. he tugs at his seatbelt, needing something to do with his hands. “off you go, then.”

dustin quickly unbuckles his seatbelt and nearly falls out of the car in his hurry to leave. hes standing and about to walk away before he stops, turning around. leaving over the window, dustin lowers his voice. “hey, one last thing.”

steves voice catches in his throat, scared of where this is going. “yeah?”

ducking his head down, too shy to meet the other boys gaze, dustin finally says, “dont hurt y/n, alright? she-she really loves you. i know you love her, too. but shes… shes the best person in the world and im trusting you to be kind to her.”

“i…” steve stares at dustin, surprised by the sincerity in his voice and yet incredibly touched that hes being so vulnerable with him. to have your brother trust steve enough to be with you, to trust he wont hurt someone as selfless and soft as you, it means more to steve than dustin will ever know.

after years of being cruel to his classmates and growing up believing he wasnt worthy of anything gentle, steve cant believe hes being entrusted with you in his life.

it doesnt feel real, sometimes. being able to love you.

“i promise i’ll be kind to y/n,” steve says softly, meeting dustins eyes. its weird, being so delicate with the kid, but hes shared a lot with him, so its only fair steve does the same. “its because of her that im kind.”

“me, too.” dustin whispers. his eyes gleam, his mischievous smile is back. “guess we learned from the best, huh?”

steve laughs. “yeah, i guess we did.”