#not gonna lie: with all that’s been going on my drive to write was moving towards 0

[writing-for-life]

Dream’s Therapist

Siblings

I am in the last throes of preparing with previous session notes (Intake, Insomnia, Nightmares, Emotions, Parents) when my receptionist informs me that the client has arrived. Slightly early again, but we are getting used to it at this point, to the degree that it would seem patently strange if he were on time or late. She informs me he has, as usual, brought a book to pass the time.

When the client walks into my office, I note said book is “Molloy” by Samuel Beckett, which he holds in his right hand. A moment later, it has disappeared, and I catch myself wondering where to. In any case, his body language tells me he is not in good spirits today: The coat stays on, he does not talk at all (usually, he at least greets politely, if slightly formally), and he just takes his seat without waiting for me to bid him to sit (which he usually does). As he sits down, he huffs (I can’t call it anything else).

I decide to bring up the client’s homework at the beginning of the session to get it over and done with. The question was whether it were truly paradoxical to allow himself to dream while thinking he is responsible for other people’s dreams.

DT: How did the homework go?

Dream (I notice he purses his lips): I do not wish to talk about it.

DT: You don’t have to if you don’t want to, you could…

Dream (He actually interrupts me): Then what is the point (I notice he does that overly plosive T again) of coming here?

DT (It’s one of those days again): Well, it is you who said you don’t wish to talk about your homework? (He glares at me, pouts but stays stumm.) Look, it isn’t really for me to tell you what the point of coming here is, to quote you. Even if I have thoughts about it. Can you remember why you want to come here?

Dream (The silence lasts four minutes): I have walked an eternity’s worth of dreams. Yet, I mostly remain the observer and never seem to touch anyone’s… soul.

DT (The homework hit a nerve. He definitely engaged with the question): So you long for connection?

Dream: When the last dreamer forgets my name, I will cease to exist (The delusion is in full force, but I am starting to understand why). There is no true connection for me.

DT: What makes you think that people who care will forget about you?

Dream (I notice a sound not unlike that of a strangled cat): Because no one remembers me as soon as they wake.

DT: Well, I’m wide awake, and…

Dream: (I notice he mumbles something that sounds like, “Unfortunately.”)

DT: Pardon?

Dream: No matter.

DT: As I was saying: I am wide awake, and I remember you; otherwise this would be very hard to do.

Dream (He frowns so hard that I can almost feel it physically, but he remains silent. Today will be like pulling teeth I guess.)

DT: If you long for connection, did you ever try to initiate it?

Dream (He snorts, only to then look out the window. The silence only lasts around a minute this time): Yes. (I am waiting because I initially think he might expand. He does not).

DT: What about your siblings? You told me previously that the relationship with some of them is fractured. What about the others? Anyone you’re close to? Or at least get along with?

Dream: My elder sister… perhaps.

DT: Okay, that’s a start. Can you tell me a bit about her and your relationship?

Dream: She is everywhere, at all times, to collect souls and guide them to the afterlife (I am briefly contemplating whether she is really in the funeral business or if this is one of his strange allegories again, but I let the thought slide). I envy her certain sense of… detachment.

DT: And why is that?

Dream: She quite possibly carries the heaviest burden of all of us. And still, she remains… optimistic, kind, compassionate. She perplexes me.

DT: Would you say she is the sibling you're closest to?

Dream: (I notice a certain sense of hesitation): Perhaps she understands the nature of our existence most. But even she cannot fully grasp my realm. Or understand me, for that matter.

DT: Did you ever try to explain?

Dream (He looks at me as if I am someone very young and very stupid. I am neither. Well, at least I am fairly certain about my age): What I am cannot be explained or understood. By no one.

DT: Try me.

Dream (He leans forward in his chair, cocks his head to one side and looks at me intently): Will you answer a question first?

DT: That would depend on the question—I can’t promise anything.

Dream: You mortals hardly ever do.

DT: Just ask and see what happens.

Dream (I notice he is staring at my paperweight again. Hasn’t happened for a while): What do you know of eternity?

DT (I have no idea where this is going, but I decide to play): It is not a concept that means a lot to me. Nothing is eternal.

Dream: That might be true. And yet, what if there were such a thing, or at least something that gets very close?

DT: Then I would probably still endeavour to focus on the here and now, because that’s all I can do.

Dream: Do you never yearn for things beyond your reach?

DT: That’s inconsequential to our conversation.

Dream: Is it, though?

DT (I sense he is trying to corner me somehow, so I decide to redirect while pretending I don’t): Let’s assume for a minute it isn’t then. So what if I did yearn for things beyond my reach?

Dream: I would consider it… (He hesitates, briefly looks down at his hands and then looks at me again) relatable.

DT (I am glad he relates, but I also think I need to redirect even more): Of course you would. Isn’t that what every type of connection is about? Even professional ones?

Dream (I notice he straightens in his chair and lifts his chin. The silence lasts a full nine minutes before I decide to end it).

DT: Can you tell me what else you find relatable?

Dream: No.

DT: Why not?

Dream: Because that is the entire problem. I cannot relate to anyone, and no one can relate to me. However, I envy you… Your fleeting life (The way he says it almost sounds like an insult) and your fragile heart and your ability to love, lose and taste mortality with every passing moment until you take your last breath.

DT (I usually don’t flinch, but I think I might have on this occasion and need a second to gather myself. I am fully aware he is aware that I am slightly rattled because the way he looks at me is both sad but also disturbingly… triumphant, as if he were not so secretly chuffed that he dealt me a blow): And what makes you think you cannot do, or have, any of these things?

Dream: Because Destiny's Book weighs upon me. He is my brother by the way, I am not certain if I told you.

DT: Didn’t you previously tell me you never forget a thing? (Drat! I shouldn’t have said that.)

Dream (I notice he blinks slowly and actually smiles. For the first time today): Touché.

DT (I notice my sense of relief, and I’m not sure I like it): I think I might have asked you something like this before, at least in a roundabout way, but what if you could tear a page from that book? Just like that. Or at least rewrite it?

Dream (I notice he looks out the window again): That has the potential to unravel existence itself (He seems to think. After 8 minutes of silence, he finally looks at me again). Destiny is the oldest, forever chained to his book. Imagine having a sibling who knows every possible outcome, every twist of fate (So we are back to his siblings. Strange change of topic). It is rather infuriating. He once predicted I would spill coffee on a dream record, and I did.

DT (I’m not sure if I am inwardly laughing or crying at this point): So we are back to hot beverages and cup revolutions?

He just stares at me. I notice I involuntarily, or maybe voluntarily, quirk my eyebrow, to which he responds with cocking his head and resting both index fingers on his lips. He is ACTUALLY trying to hide a smile): Well, I am glad you are amused. Should we use that energy to keep on talking about your siblings?

Dream (He sighs and rolls his eyes at me, but he is still half-smiling, so he doesn’t seem to be to opposed): My relationship to each of my siblings is complicated.

DT: And why is that?

Dream: Because each one of us embodies a concept. We are bound by duty but simultaneously divided by it.

DT: Can you elaborate on that?

Dream (I notice a slightly uncomfortable shifting in his seat): Well, there is Desire… Desire is… manipulative. Always scheming, always meddling in my affairs. Our relationship is strained, to say the least. Despair is at least somewhat predictable. And then there's Delirium. She used to be Delight, but… (He suddenly stops himself and shakes his head.). It is unseemly to discuss my siblings, they are none of your concern.

DT: Correct. But you are.

(I notice his eyes turn wet, and he swallows a bit too hard. I catch myself thinking that I feel sorry for him. And I really shouldn’t.) Professionally.

Dream (I notice he stares at my paperweight again): I did not imply otherwise. (He briefly looks at me before turning his attention to the paperweight again.)

There is another brother. He abandoned his function and somewhat chose to… create. Badly. When he used to destroy whole galaxies… (His voice trails off)

DT: I guess he just came to the conclusion he prefers creating nebulae shaped like a middle finger over destroying galaxies? (Why on all fucking earth did I say that?)

Dream (I notice the eye roll): Very mature… (I also notice he loses the battle against trying to suppress a smile again) Yet possibly true.

DT (I am relieved, but I also feel I should apologise)

Dream: No need.

DT (I am confused): No need for what?

Dream: For an apology.

DT (He’s trying to read my mind now, great.)

Dream: I am sorry, I shall abstain.

DT: From what?

Dream: From intruding.

DT: Intruding on what? (I notice I sound a bit prickly.)

Dream (He stares me blank in the face): Your thoughts.

DT (This is fine. Totally fine. He isn’t really reading my thoughts, what are the chances to get it right randomly? Probably fairly high.)

Dream: Even higher if you understand common patterns.

DT (Okay, we’re playing again): And naturally, you do.

Dream: Perhaps.

DT: Then tell me about patterns between you and your siblings.

Dream (He doesn’t get angry or tetchy as expected, and instead just stares at his hands): The patterns are… endlessly complicated. I am not sure you would understand the dynamics of our relationships.

DT: Have you, or your siblings, ever tried to change these dynamics?

Dream (He does look slightly annoyed now): We are… constants! Change is a foreign concept to beings such as us.

DT: Is it truly? You’re changing, aren’t you? You’re even smiling. Here and there. That’s definitely a change.

Dream (I notice a face like thunder): I think not.

DT: Not what I’m seeing.

Dream (He leans forward in his chair): I. Do. Not. Change.

DT: Okay, what about your sister then?

Dream: Which one?

DT: The one who changed? The one you said, “used to be” Delight?

Dream (I notice he opens his mouth briefly to then close it again. He thinks for a hot second): I suppose, within our limited capacity, there have been…efforts to change. But…

DT: So it is possible then?

Dream (I notice the wet-cat-head-shaking): You don’t seem to comprehend that there is no balance in change. Not in any of my siblings. And I wish for balance. For a semblance of… harmony.

DT: Why do you believe there is no harmony in change?

Dream (I notice an exasperated sounding puff of air exiting his nose): I trust our time is up?

DT: No.

Dream: Very well, I shall leave then. (He gets up.)

DT: You’re right, some things truly don’t change.

Dream: I told you so. (He starts to walk out.)

DT: Are you still committed?

Dream (He stops and turns to look at me): Did you not tell me, just a second ago, that some things do not change? And did I not previously encourage you to use ink for however long you deem necessary? I do not have the tendency to go back on my word.

DT: And I don’t have the tendency to assume people aren’t free to change their mind.

Dream (He just stands there and glares at me): You have an obsession with change.

DT: Comes with the territory. Still ink, or would you rather default to pencil?

Dream (I notice the slightly exasperated bridge-of-nose-pinch): Ink. It is marginally more unchangeable…

< Previous Session

[forbidden-sin-bin]

Sex and Filthy Smut headcanons

(Eminem x F!Reader Hc’s and drabbles)

Rated: E for explicit… no wait, this needs an X rating for possibly being the filthiest thing I’m gonna write in my life. God save my soul (probably not but hey at least I asked)

Warnings: I mean… look at the title. Need I say more??? Smut. Sex. Lovemaking, Intercourse. Whatever the hell you wanna call it. The whole 10 yards is here. It’s porn, not gonna lie at all.

Tags/Keywords: Smut, Heavy Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, fluff, fluff and smut, Pre-established relationship, Sexual Content, Kink, Overstimulation, Dom/Sub, BDSM, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Oral Sex, Giving/Receiving, Healthy Relationships, Feel Good, Everything sinful under the sun is found here, Author is going to hell, anyone who reads this is coming with me

A/N: Yes yes, ain’t no fuckbuddies or friends with benefits headcanons here, sue me. There is NO angst or sadness here. None, zero, zilch. Those kinds of relationships almost NEVER end well 98% of the time. This is all about you and him ONLY. Give it up for romance y’all.

Not gonna lie, there might've been more I wanted to add to this hellfire list of headcanons but once you've seen how much stuff there is below I hope you'll forgive me for finally putting this out here.

I hope by reading this, will provide you with comfort and satisfaction.

VERY special thanks to @smutty-books for beta reading and feedback along with helping me with this monster of a list! Please check them out and show them some love! (Seriously thank you Smutty for the additional ideas and content. you made this Hc's list a million times better and twice as much content included.)

(WARNING: Past this point is VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.)

General HC's:

Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy ohhhhhh boy.

You want sum fuk? You got sum fuk and way more.

As long as you’re his s/o, congrats on your sex life being absolutely demolished and rebuilt by this man. You’ll probably never find a better person in the bedroom for the rest of your life. It literally doesn’t matter if he’s your boyfriend or your husband, sex is a staple activity in your relationship that you both enjoy.

Fast and rough? Slow and steady? Maybe a little bit of both? You bet he’ll be saying fuck yeah to all of those.

His sex drive has always been relatively quite high, even after all these years. Being 50 and counting ain’t gonna stop him anytime soon.

Can, and will, want to fuck you on any and every surface of the house.

Living room couch? Perfect spot for bouncing in his lap or to blow him hard.

Dining room table? He’ll have you either bent over and railing you from behind or sitting on top while he devours your dripping wet pussy.

Taking a shower? You’ll be saving water if you do it together… yeah. Definitely not because of at least a half dozen things you can do in there with soothing hot water pouring down your bodies.

In the studio?…

Okay maybe not the studio he’s gotta work without getting distracted and lord save you two if anyone finds a sliver of evidence that you two fucked in there-

Not a PDA guy much, which also extends to any sexual antics outside. He won’t be taking any risks getting the two of you caught lacking

As long as you two are in the house, it’s free game

His views and methods of sex vary depending on which era we’re talking about

If he were in his 1999’s/2000’s era, then yeah, absolute horndog. He’s constantly so busy and on the move, sex would be a quick trip and onto the next. It would’ve scratched the itch, but arguably wouldn’t have sated his appetite for long. If he ever had a chance to have a good, drawn out sex session, it’ll leave him looking like he had a serious hangover but he’ll be waking up so relaxed.

Him being quick to fuck around and quick to leave was his style pre-Relapse. It’s a common thing you see around music artists in general and he was no exception. That doesn’t mean he was closed off to finding an actual solid relationship, it just becomes that much harder to find someone genuine. Most of the time though, he was busy putting out albums and producing music with a 9 to 5 regimen.

Post-Relapse/Recovery Em had insane stamina due to the excessive amount of exercise he put in. Call me insane, but I have a feeling this may be the time where he had the least amount of sex drive-

NOW HOLD ON HEAR ME OUT

He was starting out his sobriety around this time, I’m no expert but I would have to think that he hasn’t fucked or hooked up with anyone since then cause sex may have been a risk or his body was recovering, therefore most likely putting sex as a low priority. That isn’t to say he wasn’t busting a nut oh no, he probably became best friends with his hands again.

The time between Rap God/Monster Era was slowly building back up his drive, transitioning him to the Revival/Present Day era where he’s back on his blue-balling bullshit. Mans been practically putting out mating calls in his music and in interviews I mean COME ON HAVE YOU SEEN IT

He’s wise enough to not be caught slipping with hoes cause he won’t be caught with those hoes. At all. He’s not a hoe fucker no more. You heard him.

Finding an actual healthy relationship with one person? Someone give it to him, now.

(Anyone who remembers that one shot in that Rainy Days behind the scenes video where he points the camera to his crotch and says “EVERYTHING is for sale.” If that isn’t a man in heat I dunno what is; And that’s just one example out of many lemme tell you)

THE POINT IS, HE CAN GO FOR ONE ROUND, OR MANY, MANY MORE.

He’s determined to make you feel good more than him, but he’ll absolutely be having fun with how you’re gonna come. He’ll love exploring your body, finding out every little spot that gives you shivers down your spine.

Oh yeah, did I mention that he's got a big dick? He's got a big dick.

Don't try to deny it when you can't help but glance at his crotch all the time. It might be bias, or it might be fact that you can see the bulge in his pants.

Dom/Sub Roles:

He’s a dom, no question about that. Most of the time he’s a soft dom, not overwhelmingly asserting himself over you but firm enough to have you listen to him. Of course, he’ll be praising you a ton if you’re doing good and listening. But if you’re acting a little bratty, a little petty… yeah, he’ll make you behave, let’s just leave it at that.

Enjoys having you bent over his knee while he fingers your pussy, making sure you’re all nice and ready for him to enjoy.

If you squirm too much, expect a light spanking and a firm reminder to behave.

Again, not over the top with his dominance, cause at the end of the day, he wants to take care of you, to make you feel comfortable and show you how much he loves you. So praising isn’t just a dom thing, it’s genuinely how he expresses his affection to you.

If you insist on it, he can go even harder as a dom, upping his antics and getting off on seeing you beg for relief. Punishments will be even meaner and if you slip up even just a little, looks like you’re gonna have to start all over. No amount of pleading, teary whines from you will get him to change the cold, hard look in his eyes as he’s watching you.

Absolutely insistent on a safe word, no matter the situation.

Marshall’s immediately shifting to a protective, nurturing caretaker the moment your safe word leaves your lips and making sure your needs are met, completely understanding and shushing any apologies that threaten to leave your mouth for ruining the moment. You come first and foremost.

Amazing with aftercare. Will make sure that you’re okay and well taken care of after a session, praising you lovingly as he holds you close. If it was particularly intense, he’ll be checking in on you for the next day or so whilst feeling quite proud of himself that he can reduce you to a begging, dripping mess yesterday night. But he's by far more proud of you for trusting him and letting him experience you in such a vulnerable position.

All it takes is for him to say: "Such a good girl" and you're all his. (Can't blame you honestly-)

He'll be using your petnames even outside of your passionate sessions, even if it's just coming home to greet you after a day of work or passing by each other in the house to do something, a quick: "Hey peaches" or "How's my babygirl?" never fails to want to leave you smiling shyly, even after a bad day.

While being a sub is not what he would usually do at all, it’s not impossible. Once he’s far into a relationship with you and fully comfortable, he might actually give in to your insistence.

He has a need to feel like he’s in control, like he’s leading; Being on the opposite end is a big deal for him, so if he ever subs it’s a huge fucking compliment and privilege that shows how much he trusts and loves you to bare himself to you.

He’ll definitely be grumbly about it tho, and probably trying to act all teasing at your attempt to dominate him. But once you get past that first phase and he lets himself relax and give into your control… he doesn’t want to admit it, but he feels so fucking secure with you.

When he fully gives in, he’s preening and leaning into your touch. He’ll be such a good boy under your lavish praise and having all of your attention on him.

It feels almost foreign, not being the one in charge and making all the decisions for once. But once he gets used to it, he'll be doing whatever he can to receive your approval.

Seeing him at your mercy, letting you take the reins, makes it your priority to see him come undone by your command, holy shit, it's fucking beautiful.

If he's up for being a little more bratty (not unlike he's been on his petty shit for decades as his core personality trait let's be real here) and expecting to be punished and/or your dominance be harsher, the thought of pushing you to your limits with how much you're willing to keep up with him makes him really, really excited on the inside.

It’s both of your secrets, so don’t fuck it up, a'ight?

Teasing/Body Parts:

Speaking of secrets… he’s incredibly private, but at the same time, don’t be surprised if he ends up writing lyrics that may or may not allude or be inspired by your sex lives. You swear this man will be the death of you, smug bastard.

If you’re ever turned on by listening to his music or his voice, it’ll be such a massive ego boost for him, holy shit. No need to feel embarrassed, cause he’s fucking flattered.

Even tho his residence is far from any neighbors (and definitely soundproof), he’s got a playlist for your ears to get aroused to.

Imagine Marshall whispering in your ear or talking in that low voice of his and well damn now you’re horny is an understatement of the goddamn century.

And it’s not just you! Marshall gets off hearing you moan like crazy, another sign that lets him know he’s doing a damn good job. Hearing you whimpering gets him going, but making you scream? Jackpot.

Unsurprisingly to a lot of y’all, but he loves tits. He loves ass for sure, but feeling your breasts is just- Yes.

Love fondling them, licking, biting, sucking, you name it.

Now do the same for him-

OKAY OKAY HEAR ME OUT HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN’S PECS

MAN’S GOT HUGE FUCKING HONKERS. HOLY SHIT.

(No wonder he’s such a titty guy-)

But seriously, play with his chest and he’ll be moaning and writhing under you. Music to your ears.

Rest assured your ass will not be forgotten or neglected. No fucking way he’ll ever leave any part of you un-worshipped. Even when you’re just passing each other around the house he’ll playfully slap or squeeze your ass with a smirk. Cheeky fucker.

May or may not prompt him to just throw you down and pin you against whatever furniture is closest and have his way with you right then and there.

Or it could be the other way around! You can't help but give his sexy behind a mischievous swat or grab, or his pecs. He'll probably pretend to be miffed but you'll be catching him returning the smirk you have on your face. Oh, by all means, have your way with him right then and there as well. Equal rights, equal sexy times.

Grabbing your backside and pulling you closer to him, pressed against his chest and his growing bulge in his pants oh sweet Jesus-

Will for sure spank you while you’re riding him or he’s railing you from behind, the sounds of skin slapping against skin while he sees your ass jiggle with every thrust is just so fucking hot

He wants to reach deep down, as far as his cock can reach, nothing in the house is safe from him pounding your pussy and giving you a creampie.

Speaking of that, He LOVES to come into you or on you. It gives him a feeling of claiming what's his. Anytime he sees his cum dripping outta you or running down your skin, Marshall’s ready to go again.

Or he could use a sex toy, making sure his cum stays inside and your pussy ready for him in a few.

Kinks

We’ve already covered the dom/sub parts, but there is SO much potential for other kinks that you and him can get into so let’s get right into it

Breeding Kink:

I mean how can we not start this off without mentioning that

Can, and will ram you harder and faster than a piston AND make sure you both cum multiple times

If you’re walking the next morning, that means he failed the assignment so now he’s boutta rectify that

Dirty talk is cranked to a hundred as he’s growling in your ear on how much of a slut you are for his seed, how he’ll fill you up and make sure your womb is carrying his baby, how gorgeous you would look with your belly swollen with your little creation, etc.

Even if he’s sure that he doesn’t want anymore kids (given his age or experience, which is understandable), imagine the baby fever he gets when he sees or imagines you with kids

He’s perfectly happy with just you and him, but the possibility of you, him, and maybe a little one you made together from your love? His pupils are dilating like a cat getting ready to pounce

Even if the possibilities are extremely unlikely, the mere thought of it and he’s giving you the 🥺 eyes. (Every time you see him make those eyes at you, it’s probably cause he’s feelin the breeding urge)

If you're not able to, that doesn't change a thing; he wants to make you feel like you're his no matter what, and you are! He loves you for you.

Obsessed with coming inside you after railing you into the mattress, filling you to the brim with his seed

Loves giving you a creampie and then watching it leak out of your pussy, might take the initiative to stuff his spilling cum back into you

Or he could just fuck you at multiple different times during the day like the stud he is

Hell he may as well just not pull out and you’ll both be falling asleep still connected

You'll be waking up with his member engorged and slowly thrusting in you while he nuzzles into you, taking in your scent, kissing your lips so softly until you both cum. After that he takes you to the shower and you both wash each other

Loves marking your skin with his mouth, letting anyone know that your his and his only

Your cunt and everything else is thoroughly satisfied every time the breeding kink comes on don’t you worry about that honey

Size Kink:

Hey don't judge his 5'7 ass. Marshall's got other big things minus his height; Big hands, big ears, HUGE CO-

If you're smaller than him: He praises you for taking him in so well, whispers words of encouragement with every inch he pushes into you until you can feel his tip brushing against your cervix. Doesn't want to overdo it in fear of hurting you, but with your insistence he'll be going all out in due time

If you're taller than him: He LOVES it. No cap you being taller or bigger than him is so fucking sexy. Makes him more eager to make you come and more confidence in exploring different ways to do so

Takes a hand in yours and guides you both to press against your stomach, feeling for his cock thrusting into you

Praises you constantly as he feels your walls stretch around him so perfectly

Once you feel like you can take all of him, all of his restraint is gone as he pounds your sopping wet cunt relentlessly

Body worshipping is a must regardless of size

Feral/Primal Kink:

You know how possessive he can be, and that still translates to the bedroom. Even when he knows you're his, he can't help but feel turned on by his possessiveness for you.

And when you're all his, he can go fucking. Crazy.

It's also the dom feeling in him as well, but he has a need to claim you: Not out of insecurity, but out of his desire to make sure you know how much he loves you.

Likes biting your ear as an affectionate gesture. Sometimes he enjoys lightly tugging as a playful gesture to get you riled up.

Marshall thinks the growling thing is dumb as hell but if you're into that he'll try to give you some throaty growls in your ear, but expect him to start cracking up at his attempts until he's used to it

He thinks he can't do it yet he doesn't realize the low rumble in his throat whenever he gets a jealous streak

Voice/Audio Kink:

Well, well, WELL. Someone's ego is about to be stroked harder than his cock for once

He’ll absolutely be moaning and grunting more often when you guys have sex

Jokingly asks if you want to put some music on before you start fucking though he probably cringes listening to his own music during sex

Definitely ruins the mood for him when he hears someone that collabed with him on one of his songs or if any of his lyrics mention things that he doesn't want to think about when horny

Whenever he asks what you're listening to and hears one of his songs, he can't help but inwardly smile or smirk with pride. "Good choice." He nods, keeping his face unreadable.

If he catches you listening to FACK he just starts dying with laughter and dying on the inside simultaneously

No but seriously, he's super fucking flattered knowing how much his music or just his voice turns you on

Whispers in your ear during sex, either praising, teasing, or telling you what to do

He'll be observing which tone provokes the biggest reaction out of you so he can remember it for future reference

(People working with him in the studio are gonna be wondering why he's so close to the mic while recording recently)

Might record something just for your ears to listen to when you guys are apart ;)

Sex Positions

Missionary:

Ah, the OG.

Ranging from being the most vanilla to literally breaking the bed and making the house shake. Most people’s go-to position and Marshall is no different.

He’s got full access to your face, neck, and breasts while he pounds you into the mattress, absolutely loves it and it’s no surprise.

Is eye contact a kink? He’ll be wanting to look you in the eyes no matter the pace you’re going. Additionally may often include forehead touching and/or nose nuzzling. Incredibly hot and intimate.

If he’s feeling extra curious or dominant, he might even push your legs back and over his shoulders to reach even deeper into you. (In other words, putting you in a mating press.) You ain’t walking for a few days after this. Catch his freaky ass all smug n shit.

Slow and intimate in this position is SO fulfilling. It’s like baring your souls to one another.

Going fast and rough is just straight up a joyride and a half. It feels carnal in the best way possible.

Overall you can’t fuck this up really. It’s missionary for crying out loud.

Doggystyle:

*clears throat* Ahem. BARK BARK WOOF WOOF

If you haven’t seen my fic Heat yet, it’s basically me writing smut for the first time in this position but taken to the next level. Should hint at a lot on what imma bout to say tbh

YES. HELL YES. PLEASE LET HIM RAM INTO YOU FROM BEHIND. HE’LL BE POUNDING INTO YOU SO FUCKING HARD

If you go face down on the bed, ass up? Holy shit

Expect bruises on your hips the next morning… also a very horny man ready to go again or to absolutely worship the fuck outta you for taking it so fucking amazingly

He'll be running a bath for you, being extra doting and attentive, the whole nine yards while also feeing that masculine satisfaction™ at the fact that he's able to get you to that state of bliss.

By far the most feral position. If he’s got a breeding kink I wish you luck on how many times you’re gonna come and he’s gonna come

If you’re also into taking it in the ass I respect you 👀 kinky motherfucker would love to explore some new ways to fuck

Pronebone is also basically the same as mentioned above, but it’s got that intimate feel, you get me? He’s closer to you whilst also able to attack your neck and shoulders, maybe even have a hot make out session with you while he continues to pound your pussy or ass raw.

As long as you love taking it from behind he’ll be on his knees for you. And on top of you.

Cowgirl/Reverse Cowgirl, You On Top:

Ride him. That’s all I gotta say.

He wants you to ride him. Fuck him silly. He’ll lose it.

It’s a perfect demonstration of him still being the dom. You may be on top, but he’s the one in control.

Might tease you by making you work hard for a reaction outta him. He’ll be pretending to be unimpressed or smug while you bounce in his lap but in reality he’s trying so hard not to break

Either that, or he won’t be holding back on how good you make him feel. Mouth open, quietly moaning, grabbing your ass or your hips.

If he can't take it anymore, he pulls you down to him and holds you tight while he starts bucking his hips, pounding up into you like a piston

Even once you both come he starts back up again before you've even calmed down

Oral (Giving and Receiving)/69:

I mean… are we really gonna question it? Yeah you better give this guy some head he is a slut for it

Give him a blowjob and he’ll be the happiest man alive

You watching his expressions as you’re sucking him off

Might take some practice to take all of him into your mouth cause this man is BIG

Even when he’s got loose sweatpants on you can still see his bulge AND IT’S NOT WHEN HE’S HARD AND HORNY. MARSHALL’S PACKING.

I wish you luck in trying to deepthroat this man

When it comes to oral, he definitely prefers receiving rather than giving

But don’t you DARE underestimate this man’s tongue cause holy fucking hell he’s feasting on your pussy

PLEASE let him suck on your clit while he’s eating you out. That man’s mouth is amazing in many ways for a reason

Imagine having to go out after and if anyone asks him if he wants anything to eat he just replies: “Nah I’m good. I had something earlier.” And then GIVING YOU THE SIDE EYE LOOK-

BEARD. BURN.

Let this man bury his face in between your thighs and imagine the friction of his beard brushing against your skin. If that doesn’t make you cum then him lapping you up will guaranteed

69 turns into a competition to see who can get the other to cum first, or a comforting session of tasting each other

Standing:

Y'all know he can do it pinning you against a wall. Thanks 8 Mile

As hot as it is, take care as not to have your head or back bang against it

Great for quickies but probably not for a long time; You gotta give his back a break lmao

Hugging your waist from behind tho :eyes:

Add a mirror on both opposite ends of the wall and you can watch him thrust into you

He's holding you real tight and close, making sure to hold you up so your legs won't buckle

Spooning:

Feelin real cozy

It can be lazy morning sex; Intimate and gentle as he places kisses behind your ear and buries his face into your neck while he does long, deep strokes in and out of your walls

Or it can be rough: Holding your thigh up while his hips violently thrust into you, only stilling when he comes after you

Another way is his cock slipping between your thighs and humping you eagerly, or his cock rutting against your ass

Push your hips back in time with his thrusts for deeper penetration or the sound of your skin slapping against each other

His hands clutching your hips or grabbing your breasts as he moans in your ear, feeling his cock twitching with his release

- - -

ALRIGHT TIME TO STOP HERE I’VE BEEN KEEPING THIS IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS Anyways hope y’all enjoyed this and then some <3 I might come back to this and and more so who knows? If you enjoyed let me know your feedback and if you have any suggestions!

[asapeveryday]

nika smut pleasee

Make a Wish

Pairing: Nika Mühl x Reader

Warnings: smut (thigh riding), alcohol

Summary: After a good game the team is ready to celebrate with a fun night out…you and Nika have a different kind of fun afterwards

A/n: I’m not gonna lie this lowk sucks 😣 forgive me. I’ll get better at writing for her I promise.

The drink burns your throat on its way down, but the warmth it brings to your body makes it worth it.

Fingers tingling, mind racing and body moving. The music was loud and the place was bustling. The girls usually kept it lowkey, but this win was so big it deserved something more, so when you suggested clubbing nobody objected.

Being Nika’s girlfriend meant you were automatically invited to these things. You felt awkward at first, seeing as you two were a fairly new couple and this was a team celebration, but she never failed to reassure you.

“You’re my girlfriend…there’s no way I’m going to a club without you.” She said with a smile. Who were you to argue?

Seeing her like this was something else. The lights were flashing, her hair was swaying against her moving body, her eyes closed and enjoying the music. You needed to be closer to her.

Dancing with Nika was something out of a dream. She was upbeat, singing along to songs, pouring shots into your mouth and spinning you around. It was all fun until you took it upon yourself to really dance. Slowly moving, pressing your backside against her front and tilting your head so her own could fit above your shoulder.

The look in her eye immediately changes. You’d never had a situation like this before. That point in the relationship hadn’t been met yet, so being pressed against her like this, your ass basically grinding into her? It was nerve-wracking, and turning you on to no end.

When her hands find your waist you can’t help but smile. You can feel her breathing on your neck and it sends goosebumps down your spine. Her eyes are burning holes into yours as you grind together to the music.

The moment is interrupted by a tap on her shoulder. A very amused KK whispers something in Nika’s ear, and she parts from you. “Paige just puked everywhere, so we have to head home.” She yells over the music. You’re disappointed, but there’s nothing you can do. The three of you join the others outside. You, Nika and KK call an Uber as you were all a little too tipsy to drive.

The quiet inside of the car is is shocking in comparison to the pounding noise of the club you’d just been in, you and Nika were squeezed in the back together while KK was in the front. Your knee was bumping into Nika’s, and although it was nothing to think twice about, your skin was tingling. Perhaps it was the tequila, or the memory of her calloused hands strong on your hips.

You almost choke on your breathing when she reaches out a hand to wipe your cheek. After shooting her an inquisitive look she says “There’s an eyelash on your face.”

On her finger there is in fact an eyelash, and she holds her hand in front of your mouth with a smirk. “Blow, make a wish.”

Nika’s eyes are stuck to you like honey, when you blow on her finger and hold her stare you don’t miss how her vision darts to your lips.

Lowering her hand casually to grip your thigh, she whispers “I played pretty good today, didn’t I?”

“So good.” You mumble, nervous at the change in atmosphere. She’d never touched you like this, possessively, and her usual cute and almost awkward voice had turned quiet and serious.

“I don’t think I can stay at my dorm tonight.” She murmurs into your ear. It’s less of a statement and more of a suggestion, one that you’re willing to take.

“Stay with me.” You look up at her. “That’ll make one wish fulfilled.”

You can tell that if it weren’t for KK and the Uber Diver in the front, Nika would’ve kissed you by now. Her hazel eyes keep darting to the mirror upfront, KK is on the verge of passing out and the driver is pretending not to notice anything. You and Nika share an understanding look between each other, one that says “just a little longer”

-

The lights are still off in your apartment when the two of you tumble inside, and you slam the wall multiple times before you actually hit the switch. Nika’s lips are too distracting, and she’s been dying to taste you all night.

Being flush against the wall, one hand is beside your head and the other on your face as her mouth clashes with yours. It’s urgent and fiery from your combined drunkness and Nika’s confidence from the earlier victory. You can feel yourself get wetter by the minute.

Her leg is positioned between yours, and her lips are trailing from your face to your neck. She sucks and licks at the sensitive skin, smiling at your breathy moans. You can’t help but lightly grind against her leg in hopes for any type of pressure.

At that, you’re moving around the apartment again, tangled in one another as you crash into things before finally landing on the couch. You scramble to sit on top of her, straddling one of her almost bare thighs as your lips connect again. One hand grips your ass and the other gropes your breasts, pinching at your nipples which causes you to gasp.

Your core is pulsing and she can feel it on her skin. Suddenly both her hands find your hips again, and she slowly manipulates you to grind onto her.

You pull away from the kiss to look at her, hair wild and makeup smudged. You don’t care how you look, you just want her to see how she’s ruining you, puppeteering your movements as you make a mess on her thigh. Her tongue occasionally wets her lips, muttering in Croatian and whispering praises.

When Nika starts to flex her leg muscles you feel the knot building gradually. You’ve fully soaked through your underwear now, and the skirt you wore to the club was riding up to no amend. Your breathy moans turned to louder ones with her help.

“C’mon baby, keep going.” She sweetly murmurs, your forehead pressed against hers, her eyes glued to your body grinding against her skin.

You’re tired but determined to chase your high. Nika had preformed for you all day so you were happy to put on a show for her, rocking your hips to achieve that heavenly friction as she slapped your ass and kissed you sloppily.

When you cum it sends shivers down your spine, the deep knot inside your stomach unraveling. You can’t help but slump over her, sticky, hungover and exhausted.

“So good.” You mumble against her neck.

Nika traces on your back and places a soft kiss on your cheek before saying “You looked so sexy.”

You lift your head to meet her eyes, her expression is tired but satisfied. You can’t help but laugh as as you swipe her cheek with your finger and show her the stray eyelash you’d captured.

Holding your hand to her lips, you smile.

“Blow, make a wish.”

[paiges-1vur]

hey loves! heres another pazzi fic for you guys because i know you love pazzi fics as much as i do. <3 🏀🌌👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

“mm.. your not going anywhere. get back here” paige mumbled into azzis shoulder as she tightened her grip on her waist, pulling the girl towards herself.

“paige i have to get up i told you. i havent texted my parents all night, they are gonna think you kidnapped me,” the brunette jokes, giggling slightly. “paige- oh my gosh” the brunette says trying not to laugh, while also being slightly irritated that she cannot get up. she eventually gives into the blondes touch, smiling. “dont worry paigey im right here. not going anywhere.”

the two girls have been friends, teammates, and practically sisters for the past three years. they had both felt feelings for each other ever since they got closer, when paige was a senior in highschool. although they felt this way, they never told anyone except those who were very close to them. family, friends, and teammates were all very supportive but the girls didnt want to tell the media just yet. they liked keeping what they had special, and they didnt want the media to twist anything, their relationship was perfect the way it was.

“you better not,” paige mumbles. her voice is husky and low. “you know i miss you like a bitch when your not visiting right? i need all the azzi time i can get.” she says pulling the girl even closer to herself, earning a giggle from the brunette. “and you better come to Uconn, or else…” paige threatens azzi, jokingly.

“oh yea?” azzi asks smirking to herself. “and what would you do if i didnt commit next year..?” the older blonde gets clearly upset at the idea of being without the brunette and her demeanor quickly changes. before she knows it, azzi is being flipped over onto her back. paige hovers over her, smiling down at her. “take it back..” she taunts azzi.

“wha- paige” she says starting to laugh, “i was just joking i promise its not that serious.” she tries to escape from under paige to lie back down but only gets denied when paige grabs her wrists and pins them above her head. “hmmm” she says leaning into azzis ear. “i didnt like that joke, it wasnt very funny..”

“i-” azzi swallows. “i was just kidding paige..i-i already said that.”

“and i heard you the first time baby..” paige says leaning down to leave a trail of kisses down her jawline. “so i said take it back..” slowly her kisses move down to her neck. azzi throws her head back, allowing paige more access to her neck. paige lets out a low laugh at this, starting to leave little bites and marks all over her neck.

“it.. was just a joke. im not going to take it back” azzi doesnt budge. she doesnt understand why all of a sudden paige got so worked up, but shes not complaining. it was rare paige had her dorm to herself, but tonight was special. azzi loved cuddling, but she was secretly hoping that something different would happen tonight…

paige kept placing kisses and love bites on her neck, driving azzi wild. she took a hand and snuck it just under azzis sweatshirt, placing it just above the waistband of azzis sweats.. well technically paiges sweats. “paige-”

paige immediately stopped and looked up at azzi. “yes baby?” she was concerned about why azzi stopped her. did she want her to stop? maybe she wasn’t in the mood anymore, which would have been totally fine with paige, but that wasnt the case.

“i love you.” is all she said before putting her head back down on the pillow. paige smiled and broke the waistband of azzis sweats with her middle finger and ring finger. “i love you too baby.. just lay back for me”

sorry this is so short loves. congrats if you read all the way through, and any interaction is appreciated <3 please dont be shy to drop reqs in my anon, or message me! of course also dont be shy to be “too specific” i want to make you guys as happy as i can with my writing. tips also appreciated always

[wosoragebaiter69]

that’s enough

barça femeni x teen!reader, alexia putellas x fem!reader

request: here

A/N: this is a mess. the plot is like when ur writing an english essay and you let your subconscious mind write it so it ends up splitting into three topics with no context.

TW: throwing up, coarse language

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

Last night, I went out again. It isn’t unusual for me and if I get caught it gets me in trouble with Alexia. I’m not even doing anything bad most of the time, just driving around to take the pressure away. What I don’t factor in this time is the fact that we have an early morning session and a late night session. So if hell was a day, this is it.

First, we have a video session discussing tactics. Which is at 7am, then at 6pm we have a field session. Of course when I wasn’t there when Alexia woke up she immediately called me.

“Where are you? Where’s your car and why aren’t you in the house?” She questions clearly annoyed.

“Relax Alexia, I went out on a little drive, I’ll be there for the video session don’t worry.” She’s about to say more but I hang up. I know I won’t hear the end of this but there can’t be too much harm.

Turns out there can be.

I walk inside the room with my mcdonald’s coffee, I’m not the last person there but Alexia is in the room and shoots daggers at me. I shrug my shoulders, moving to sit next to Ingrid.

“Alexia is really mad, what did you do this time?” She asks, looking at me with a slight smirk.

“I went for a drive to clear my mind. I guess it’s illegal to do that now. I got a coffee though.” She wrinkles her face in disgust.

“Out of all the places to get coffee, you choose the worst one? Honestly kid, please find some place better. Staring at that makes me physically sick.” I roll my eyes.

“I was in a hurry and they call it fast food for a reason. Imagine if I was late? I’m already in trouble.” She nods her head in understanding.

“So, any plans for today or are you going to play Hogwarts Legacy all day.”

“I’m going to watch a movie.” I reply.

“The whole day?” She questions confused.

“Well… I never said I was seeing the movie IN Spain.” She sighs pinching the bridge between her nose.

“That’s not a good idea. Why would you do that?”

“Because I hate subtitles and I don’t want the movie to be in Spanish.” I shrug.

“That’s… a good point. If Alexia finds out you’ve left the country again she’s gonna lose it so have fun and make sure not to tell her you told me.” I nod.

“Will do my friend.” I’ve left the country before, one time to Germany where I accidentally met Georgia Stanway and got drunk with her. And the other time was at the UK in which I got into some nasty fights against some sad Arsenal fans. Like yes I was taunting them but no reason to attack me. I won in the end, obviously.

So if Alexia finds out I’ve left again she will be so mad. I focus my attention to the screen in front of us and listen in on what whatever Jona has to say.

- - - - -

After the session, I quickly make my way out of the room and into my car. I’m almost gone but Alexia is right behind me and she bangs on the window. I groan pulling it down.

“Hi Aleeee.”

“Don’t you ‘Hi Ale.’ me. Where have you been and how long? Do not lie to me.” I sigh.

“I went out on a drive around town, it’s so pretty at night, so excuse me if I want to look at it. Now if you must know. I’m on a tight schedule so, may you please move so I can move?” I ask, she reluctantly agrees and steps back allowing me to drive off to the airport.

(this is rlly fast paced but you can imagine whatever movie you want during the time skip)

- - - - -

It’s currently 5pm, I’ve been out all day the flights were only 2 hours and they were cheap. I don’t know why the others think of this stuff. Maybe I’m just Australian though.

I notice my stomach feels off, but it’s probably because I’m dehydrated and haven’t eaten a proper meal all day. Only a large popcorn and 2 packets of skittles.

I arrive at the grounds just in time and walk in with Sandra. I walk over to my area and get changed into the kit, before walking out onto the field with Lucy.

“You alright mate? You’re pale.” She states.

“I’m good, little tired is all.” I can tell she doesn’t believe me but we walk on.

The session is gruelling, high intensity and does not do anything to help what I’m feeling. Alexia has been pushing me harder than anyone else which is annoying and I low-key want to fall to the ground. That would only result in more laps though.

The 1.5 hour session ends, we have dinner which lasts half an hour than another 45 minutes in the gym. Both of which I am not excited for.

I can’t even think of anything when it happens, I feel bile rise up my throat and I just know that I should’ve eaten a proper meal. I make it into the bathroom in the nick of time, spilling my guts into the bowl. Someone is in here holding my tied back hair but I can’t be bothered to find who.

When I finally stop gagging, I flush the toilet and lean against the wall staring in front of me to find Keira.

“You feel any better or do you want to stay here.” She asks, resting her hand on my cheek. I shrug my shoulders as she sighs.

The door opens again and it’s Lucy.

“Oh, there you guys are. What happened?” Lucy turns to Keira.

“I was walking by the bathrooms and heard someone gagging and here she was throwing up.” She nods her head and I go to stand up.

“NO! No, you are not doing that. What if you throw up again? I’m going to get Alexia. Right now.” Lucy says sternly.

“Nooo, get Ingrid instead? Please Lucy.”

“Fine.” She walks out leaving Keira and I alone again.

“Mind telling me what lead to this moment?” I nod, explaining the staying up all night to not eating any proper food.

“That’ll do it. Can’t believe you just got on a flight to London.”

“It’s not even that long, it’s a great way to spend time. It’s like you saying a 45 minute drive is long. That’s how long it takes for me to get to school when I’m in Australia.” She shakes her head.

“Aussies sense of time is so out of whack I’m telling ya!” The door is opened again as Ingrid and Lucy make their way inside.

Ingrid sighs, “What are we going to do with you huh?” I laugh.

“Come on, let’s get you to the medics and then you can go home. I’ll drive your car and before you say anything we will be telling Alexia.” I nod, knowing there’s no escape.

We get to the medical room and Alexia is already there, talking about her knee with one of the physios. She looks over in question, Ingrid pushes me forward while Keira explains everything to the doctor. Who explains for me to eat a proper meal and drink some actual water. Before going to bed to get actual sleep.

Alexia is fuming, muttering many curse words and dragging me out of there. We get our stuff and give my keys to Mapi who nods at the plan of getting my car back home.

- - - - -

We walk through the door and Alexia guides me to the couch.

“I have had enough of this. We need to set some rules ok? You are 16 in a foreign country, you can’t go around to other countries when you fucking feel like it. I don’t care if you didn’t do anything bad but I can’t have you out of this city without me. Got it? As for the night driving, we’ll set a curfew and I expect you to be back by a certain time and you won’t be able to leave until a certain time. I told your parents I’d watch out for you but you are seriously making it hard for me to live up to that.”

“Sorry Ale.” She shakes her head.

“I’m not doing this with you right now. I’m going to make you a proper meal, you will drink 1 litre of water then you are heading straight to bed. No phone, no xbox, nothing until I deem you can be trusted. Am I clear?” I nod, feeling like I was 12 again.

“You might think this is excessive but I care about you. I want you to be safe, I need you to be safe. So please, make it easier for both of us.” Shes pleading now and it makes me feel bad, tears brim at the edge of my eyes and she sits down next to me.

“Amorcita, don’t cry. Por favor.” She rubs my thigh.

“I’m sorry Ale, I didn’t mean to. The night drives just lessen my anxiety about some things, you know. Like therapy.”

“I know, but you can speak to me about it any time if you feel you’re spiraling. Anyone on the team. Don’t do stupid things to get us to notice. Just talk I’m always here.” I sob into her arms, I can feel all the anger she has fade.

“Thanks, this means so much. Again I’m sorry.” She shakes her head.

“Don’t be, but I would like to know why you travelled to England to watch a movie, don’t you hate England?” This has me laughing.

“I mean… I do but in Spain it’s either gonna be in Spanish or have subtitles and I wanted it in English without.” She laughs softly.

“Of course, now how do you feel about Chicken Burgers for dinner? With potato gems.” I nod my head. She gets up and walks into the Kitchen starting to make the food.

Maybe I can start trying, and maybe I am truly cared about more than I thought. This team 🫶.

A/N: I LOVE SICKFICS I HAD TO. if you see any sickfic requested, i probs requested it lol

[predestinatos]

love me down? — CL16 𓍢ִ໋ ᰔᩚ

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: it's time to confront feelings over mcdonald's and a beach view

word count: 4k

tags: a bit angsty not gonna lie, vulnerable!charles is so interesting to write, finally they get it together (kind of), smut at the end - absolutely filthy btw.

minors dni ──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !! warnings & note underneath

note: so so sorry for the delay in updates! i've been busy on my dissertation, staying home alone for a few days and traveling along with writing some articles for my uni newspaper so things have been crazy here. but i appreciate all the support and patience.

warnings: rough sex, kitchen sex, spit is involved, charles is very... domineering

“Thank you” you smiled softly to the girl handing you the McDonald’s bag and the two big cups of coke, which you promptly asked for Charles to hold as you proceeded to drive away.

Your hands gripped the stirring wheel as you drove – upon Charles’ insistence that he wanted to see you doing it, and also because it would raise less suspicion and attention if you both did so. The night was calm and slightly warm, allowing for the windows to be opened and the breeze ran through your hair wildly.

You felt his gaze on you, noticing how he stared unapologetically at you from the corner of your eye, a warm smile plastered across his face, his eyes half open – details that you didn’t notice but knew, out of the sheer amount of time you were now spending together, his expressions becoming familiar and recognizable, like a painting you hang on your bedroom and see every morning when you wake up.

“Stop staring, it distracts me,” you said jokingly, your shoulders tensing as you smiled shyly and tried to fix your hair with one hand, the other remaining on the wheel. “Now you know how I feel” he replied, popping a French fry in his mouth.

You allowed yourself half a second to look at him with confusion, your eyebrows furrowed as you moved your head questioningly. “What do you mean?” you asked, as you opened your hand towards him and demanded for him to give you a french fry.

“I mean when we all hang out and you sit at the back of my car and all I can see is you from the rearview mirror” he replied, his arms stretching towards your mouth instead of your hand, placing the food in it carefully. You knew the order of these actions was deliberate – first he admitted to something, then he would shush you somehow, as if to let that admission disappear or go unnoticed, or for him to think of something to say that would somehow lessen it.

The cold tone of his eyes remained on you, however, letting silence fill the car, as you noticed you hadn’t put music on, relying on each other’s voices and company instead. With your mouth still half full, you kept questioning his attentive gaze: “we haven’t all hung out in your car in ages, though.” You swallow, hoping he understood what you said between chewing and speaking.

Charles laughed softly, both at your statement and at your attempt to multitask, which he tried to unconsciously replicate by removing the Coca-Cola cup from the bag without taking his eyes off of you. “I know,” he realized that was all he could say, and that it was enough for you to understand its underlying meaning.

You were now arriving at an empty beachside, one which both of you knew because that was where you spent your teenage years amongst the people you loved. “I thought you hated me though,” you said, more seriously than you intended, your hand on the gearstick as you moved it to reverse. He shrugged as he took his seatbelt off, placing one leg under the other one, his sweatpants revealing a comfort he had acquired with you over the past months. “I thought so too,” he replied, chuckling.

You turned the car off but didn’t find his tale all that amusing, how both your and his feelings were now drifting unknowingly and dissolving, getting harder to recognize and pinpoint.

Noticing your discomfort, Charles’ hand once again went through his hair, nervousness hard to disguise, his dark brown locks suddenly in a desperate need to be fixed. You grabbed your order from the bag placed upon his lap, unthinkingly. Months prior, just the idea of being in a car with him seemed ridiculously unrealistic, and now touching him was voluntary and thoughtless, which highlighted the contrast of your words.

“I’ve always found you attractive” his voice interrupted, as he took a bite of his cheeseburger. You reflected his movements, but looking at him, eyebrows raised and interest spiking. The short seconds he took to chew and swallow seemed like an eternity, the urge to hear him continue almost as big as his urge to keep talking. “Even when you annoyed the shit out of me” he laughed shortly, and this time you did too, your head rising towards the ceiling of the car. “It’s true! It just made you even more insufferable” he repeated, his free hand adjusting a lock of your hair behind you ear in caring amusement.

Your eyes met his as you took a sip of your drink, interrupting him before he went on a full monologue. “Thank you for the flattering confession,” you joked back, mimicking him by putting a lock of his hair behind his ear – an almost impossible task. “Come on, I knew you felt attraction towards me as well,” he tilted his head and leaned back, arms crossed smugly, trying to hide the slightly damaged ego. “You were alright,” your answer made him bring his hand to his chest dramatically, a comical expression screaming ‘how dare you’ in sheer playfulness.

“Grumpy men aren’t my type” you continued, placing a French fry in your mouth with feigned innocence. “Bratty girls aren’t mine either yet here we are” Charles replied, a soft gleam in his eyes as he looked at you, the breeze entering the car through the open window and touching his hair softly, daring to caress him when you couldn’t, wouldn’t.

Here we are. That sentence reverberated through your body like an enigma you couldn’t solve. Where exactly were you two? In a limbo of unspoken feelings and mere subtle hints of tenderness, an unbreakable vow of secrecy that can only be expressed through metaphors? In a car, desperate to feel each other’s devoted affection, yet refraining to do so, like a painting in a museum you can’t get too close to?

Charles knew he had said the wrong thing, or at least not the good enough thing for the moment. This back and forth used to be amusing and entertaining when nothing was at stake. But now it seems like both of you had gambled too much, and the few chips you had were holding you together at a table where whatever happened could not be seen as a victory.

He said the only thing that came to his mind at that moment. An earnest and genuine “I’m sorry” left his lips as he looked outside the window. You let out a breath, accepting the apology despite the fact that you didn’t quite know the reason for it. Was he apologizing for the comment that ignited this tension? For letting things spiral to this in the first place? You weren’t sure he knew it either, yet you knew he meant it enough for you to not hold it against him.

But maybe it was your turn to get into his head, as selfish as this sounded. You didn’t hold it against him but that didn’t mean you didn’t have half thoughts and half feelings to let out. “It was hard not being bratty with you,” you heard yourself say, as his head turned towards you. You forced yourself to hold his gaze, despite the fact that you felt heat rushing to your cheeks as you spoke. “You got under my skin like no one else. Still do,” you bit your lip, holding back a smile that threatened to creep up on your face. It was hard to hide your amusement at his own bewildered look, incredulous at what you had said could imply.

“You don’t know how many times I wanted to be alone with you” his voice, almost a whisper, traveled through the car along with the nightly air and the soft waves crashing far away. You swallowed dryly, despite the cold cup resting between your legs and the comfort it could’ve provided you in a time like this.

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, curiosity, or maybe sheer tension, filling your body as you felt him getting closer to you, closing the gap between both of your seats. “I did, eventually,” his breath hit your neck, his knowledge of this particular weakness of yours making you even weaker, realizing you gave him the power to get to you like this. His chuckle filled your ears and sent goosebumps throughout your body like an orchestra of sensations. “And it’s not like you made it particularly easy for me,” he continued, kissing your neck lightly enough to make your body shiver, his hand now resting on your leg and caressing it with sensuous ease.

“Really?” you played along, irony lacing your lips the way you both liked to play. “How come?” your voice broke upon the sentence as his murmur of affirmation to your question mixed with his kisses down your neck and his now tightened grip on your leg blurred your senses.

Before he could properly reply, your phone vibrated in your pocket, disrupting the tension building up between you two. You cursed under your breath as you pulled it out, reading the name on the screen and locking it again, deciding to reply later. “It’s my sister,” you say, even though you knew you needn’t justify yourself. Nevertheless, you did. You hoped he’d do the same in his own case.

“Oh, is everything alright? She’s in Austria, right?” he asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. You nodded in response. “Yeah, she’s alright. It’s a drunk selfie, I’ll text her later,” you laughed as you continued, your drink finishing just like his. He laughed, more to himself than to you, as he shook his head negatively. “That’s brave for a Linguistics student” he joked.

His words made you realize something, which you couldn’t help but point out to him, question him about. “How do you know those things? About my sister, I mean” you clarified, your eyes interlocked with his. “You’ve mentioned it sometimes when we all hung out,” he shrugged, the answer seeming so simple and uncomplicated, almost making you feel ridiculous for asking. Yet you stood, motionless. “I may seem annoyed, but I am listening, you know.”

You felt your body freeze at his words, a realization of something you had never considered before. Because it’s not only that he was listening; he remembered. Things you didn’t particularly say to him – in fact, you ignored him most times, only using the basic politeness when strictly necessary – were engraved in his mind when they did not have to be. They could’ve been mere writings on sand for him, ones which the sea would wash away carelessly, yet they weren’t.

And suddenly, you were tired. Of the breeze, of the jokes, of the hiding, of the unknown. Of crying, of laughing, of shrugging it off and trying not to think about it. Of the lack of answers, of the increasingly infinite number of questions. You’ve felt sadness, but now it was time for anger – unfortunately, you did not know whom to aim it at. To him? For not being able to admit the very same thing you couldn’t admit either? To yourself? For protecting your emotions from the person who has shown in the past his inconsistencies, his lack of commitment and emotional availability?

He felt it then. He did not know how or why – whether your breath give it away, how you blinked more rapidly than usual and your eyelashes seemed to bat away the painful realization – but he felt that if he did not do something, say something, before you did, all this would end. And in those brief seconds everything flashed before him: the endless amount of decisions and routes that he could take here, how it would be easy in the short term to accept what you had to say and let you drive him home, drink it away, fuck it away, text someone else, kiss someone else. But the long term painful knowledge of feeling your skin on his when he wakes up at 4am in your room, to witness your eyerolls when he jokes around, to witness your existence quietly – that suddenly felt unbearable.

Your fists were clenched in repressed anger, so were his, though the reasons differed – but the source of them didn’t. It had now become a race against time, daring each other to speak, to do something before the other did, scared of the words that might come out each other’s mouths.

You beat him to it – maybe the only game where you actually won, yet a victory that tasted as a loss, where the podium took more from you than it gave, no morning glory or praise in your eyes or his. “I don’t think I can keep doing this” was all you said as you forced yourself to look into Charles’ eyes, notice how you could tell something in him shifted despite his lack of movement. Despite the fact that he had seen in it coming, he couldn’t help but feel a sharpness in his chest that threatened to break his whole body apart from the inside out. He had nothing to lose anymore, and knowing this, he knew he had to at least put up a fight with himself.

“It’s a shame because I think I’m starting to get feelings for you,” he tried to act natural, almost slightly careless but it did not work, not when your eyes stared deeply into his, confusion written all over them. “I mean I can’t get you off my mind. These hang outs we have are all that I look forward to. I mean that I wish I could just tell you how much I crave your presence at every moment. That part of me feels such anger towards you precisely because you make me feel weak. I hate myself for feeling these things almost as much as I do for not expressing them to you earlier. And I care. I care so much I wish I could be brave enough to ask you to text me when you get home, when you wake up, when you go out. I want to talk to you or stay in silence or eat or do anything, I don’t fucking know what I’m saying but I want this to keep going and I am so fucking selfish for it, I know I am.”

Charles bit his lip, out of nervousness, anger, or sadness – neither of you quite knew. All you knew was that the words that came out of his mouth could never be unsaid, that whatever happened after this could never repair whatever dynamic you two had, and even though you both knew that the first time he stayed after your party, it was now a reality you had to confront.

“Don’t do this to me, Charles” you begged, your voice breaking slightly as it whispered his name, the taste of it so different from before, so foreign it seemed like you were calling someone else. “It’s really fucking mean of you to do this,” you continued, as your hand flew to the car key and started it, your intention to leave the conversation in the sand, let it be consumed by the sea, erased, cleaned.

You drove and drove, although you felt like the car was operating itself, your mind not as much on the way to Charles’ place but more on retracing the steps that brough you two here. He didn’t highlight his presence either. Both of you felt so insanely alone in that car it was almost maddening, a solitary confinement worse than any other punishment: being alone together.

And so when your car came to a halt in the parking lot and you inhaled deeply, accepting the fact that this was probably the last time you would ever have him like this, considering what you’d do differently had you known that when you woke up, he tried one last time.

His hand was so close to opening the door but refused to do so before both his body and his mind had the answer to the question that would solve it all. Every single one of his next movements would depend on how you replied, and he was, not for the first time, immediately aware of your control over him. “Knowing all this, knowing it would come to this in the end- would you have kicked me out of your apartment that night?”

For some inexplicable reason, you did not hesitate then. Your head moved, so slightly it could go unnoticed, in a nod. Then, as if you were watching your own self from afar, you nodded once more, clearly, affirmatively, and confidently, despite your runny nose and teary eyes. You adjusted your hair once again, the mess a reflection of your own thoughts and his – tangled and complicated.

Yet, your reply triggered all of Charles’ courage, made his words come out strong and reassuring at the same time, as he tried, not desperately but incessantly, to make you see what he couldn’t show. “Then why can’t we keep going? You want me to show you I need you, here I am. I need you. I need this, and this might be the most vulnerable I can be with you right now but I am trying. I’ll say it as many times as you want and I’ll leave if you want me to because that’s how much I need you. I need you so much I’m willing to let you go if that’s what you want.”

His reply made you feel your own heart speeding, its pace matching his, though you were both unaware of it. Your hands were shaking at the same rhythm as his hands, the ones that were now opening the door in defeat, but that were stopped by you gripping his arm, feeling him finally, pleading him to stay. He barely had the time to close the door again, leaving it ajar as he turned to you and felt your lips on his, soft and needy and begging for him to stay. He deepened the kiss hungrily, his teeth biting your bottom lip in confirmation of his presence before you.

Remembering where you two were, you pulled away, looking at his unusual post kiss expression. Although the red lips and blissed eyes remained, he was serious, rather than smug, questioning if this was a last goodbye or a beginning. You smiled to yourself at that, his innocent look when he lost control of a situation giving away his honesty.

The atmosphere was still tense despite the fact that the air had been cleared out by his words and the tears washed away by the foggy windows, yet you couldn’t help but bite your lip, holding back a laugh as you said, “so does this mean I have to cancel things with Oscar?”

Charles’ soft giggle and playful “fuck off” made you feel at home more than ever, as you knew now that he was comfortable with you holding that door. And as he stepped out of your car, he leaned down and popped his head in once again, teasingly asking you “want to come inside so I can answer that for you?” – to which you merely smirked as you removed your seatbelt.

As soon as the elevator doors closed and until you made all the way to the 16th floor Charles’ hands were on your waist, your legs, your chest, and everywhere possible, as he tried feeling all of you at once, greedily caressing your skin. You needed him just as much, your own arms around his neck as your hands pulled his soft hair, sometimes with enough strength his groan was audible, but so addictive you couldn’t get enough of it.

The elevator doors opened and somehow you made it into his apartment, not registering any inch of it – you had grown to know it all too well to have to look around for the last few months. With your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands holding you by your thighs, he took you to the closest spot he could find and placed you there, your ass suddenly feeling the cold surface underneath. Sitting on his marble kitchen counter, you watch as his attitude shifted back to the cocky and possessive one you knew so well. Charles didn’t hesitate to take his shirt off, followed by his sweatpants, which revealed everything already. However, the sight of his naked body between your legs drove you insane, your head spinning with the heat of desire. Completely naked, yet standing above you, his voice, so distinct from the soft and vulnerable from before, demanded: “take your clothes off”

You complied, never breaking eye contact as he fisted his own cock, its length making your mouth water and your entrance embarrassingly wet, yet that embarrassment quickly faded as his gaze lowered towards it, dark lust spreading across his eyes. Unapologetically, he eyes you up and down, eyes resting on your breasts, your nipples hard, your whole body giving away how delirious with desire you felt.

“God your body is insane” he started, his hand still on his erection, moving frantically and out of pace, trying to replicate the feeling of being inside you, yet unsuccessfully. You dropped your shy attitude, replacing it instead with a newly found confidence highlighted by the confirmation of his primal desires.

“Quit jerking yourself off and fuck me, Charles” your voice sounded aggressive and soft at the same time, and caught him so off guard you saw his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let out a ravenous growl.

Without warning, he pushed himself into you, burying his length deep inside your cunt, your wetness allowing him to move perfectly. “Fuck it’s like you were made for me” his voice, now much deeper, erupted against your neck, his face buried in it as one hand held on to your thigh tightly, and your pain was nothing when compared to how full he made you feel, how your whole body responded to him with absolute pleasure. “You were made for me, weren’t you?” he asked, pulling away from you to grip your face in his hand, a gesture so possessive and animalistic it made your eyes water in a haze. You tried nodding, although it was hard given how strong his grip was, how out of control and light-headed you felt, making it impossible for you to speak either.

His thrusts continued, aggressive and ravenous, as he unleashed all of his cravings on you. “Open your mouth” he ordered between breathy growls that pushed you over the edge. You obeyed, mouth open and tongue out as you looked at him in the eyes, some of his hair stuck to his forehead from sweat, his muscles tense and his body a complete masterpiece as it moved inside you. You knew what he was going to do, yet it still took you by sheer surprise, a cry leaving your lips as he spat directly towards your mouth, pulling your hair back to be able to look at you clearly.

You couldn’t even imagine the wreck you now looked like before him – completely blissed out and lustful, desperate for release. “All mine, f-fuck” you heard him say, despite the fact that you could barely think or even see, the sensations all mingled as one as you carved your nails in his toned arms.

“You’re mine, Charles” you tried finding your assertive voice, remind him he wasn’t the only one in charge, that you too had an upper hand in this. “All fucking m-mine, just like you want” you cried out as you felt him exploding inside you whilst your name left his lips.

The feeling of him coming and filling you was enough for you to come as well, your body shaking around his as he remained inside you, letting you keep every part of him.

As you stilled your breaths, his lips dropped a soft kiss on your forehead and his hand caressed your cheek. The change caused you to giggle, your brain still foggy from the intensity of the session you just had. “Let’s take a shower. Together” you finally said, allowing him to know that everything he had said was as reciprocate as he desired.

You two didn’t have a name or definition yet, but for now, the mutual need for each other’s presence was enough.

@buendiabebeta @janeholt3 @ruleroftheuniverse @trentsgirl @teenagedreams-cl @cmleitora @marialovesf1 @champagneholland

[ecoustsaintmein]

Poolverine thoughts

So I've just returned from watching Deadpool and Wolverine for like...the 8th? 9th time now? And I have thoughts about how the filmmakers chose to portray the evolution of their relationship -- some of them may already have been pointed out by others on this site, but this is my attempt to summarise them!

Also mostly I'm putting myself in Logan's shoes and writing this from his perspective?

Spoilers below cut:

We know that Wade has always made comments about Logan, even from the first film eg 'whose balls do I have to fondle to get this movie made?'. He might sound like he hates the guy, but obviously there's respect there, and he showed it in a Wade way. We know that by the third film, Wade wants to matter. He wants to be an Avenger, and almost regretted that even the X-Men didn't even want him. He prooobably almost nearly gagged when he spoke in earnest about how Logan has always been viewed as the X-Man in his world, but the respect is there. (And perhaps that's why he doesn't 'hit on' Logan as much as compared to Cable, Colossus et al? And all the 'shippy' comments were made by other characters in the film eg: bartender 'are you gonna fuck or fight?' or Cassandra's 'you two are cute'?)

The song choices when Logan and Wade interact, from AC/DC's Hell's Bells when they fight for the first time (fair, because Logan doesn't know Wade that well yet), to Avril Lavigne's I'm With You ('Take me by the hand, take me somewhere new/I don't know who you are but I, I'm with you') when they're driving in the Odyssey, which again, quite apt? And 'also the line 'take me home' in the Avril Lavigne song, which probably reflects Logan not really knowing who Wade is but just -- going along with the ride, as if asking Wade, just take me home, find me a place for me to belong. The theme of home recurs again and again, which leads one to wonder why it's not so surprising that Logan did end up following Wade home in the end???' Plus, 'You're the one that I want' when they're having that heavy makeout sesh intimate fight scene in the Honda? Let's not even talk about the 'Like a Prayer' scene, which again. 'When you call my name, and it feels like home.' Again. Home.

Which then leads to Logan, who confessed to Cassandra that he 'turned away' when 'they called for him', and he didn't make that mistake again when Wade called out his name at the end. While Aretha Franklin's 'You're All I Need to Get By' plays in the background. Yep.

Let's not forget the fact that Logan, after the fight in the Odyssey (despite all the boohooing and ongoing alcoholic misery afterwards), picked up the photograph of Wade's 'world', and returned it to Wade. Man doesn't want to show or say it during the second and third act but he CARES. A LOT!

Logan repeating Wade's words, verbatim, twice! ('You didn't lie, you made an educated wish'), and 'I'm an X-Men. I'm the X-Men')

Logan telling Wade that he wished Wade would die alone, then ending up making sure that Wade wouldn't have to die alone.

Logan keeping the suit on him at all times, only to have it get destroyed at the climax of the film - which, sad, because yes it's the only thing that reminds him of the X-Men of his world, but it could also be an analogy of -- he needs to move on. And he did! He wanted to be free, and he told this as much to Cassandra, and he did become free, in the end!

On the subject of Cassandra, she promised Logan that she could 'silence everything'. The joke's on her, because Logan found himself trading peace (as silence), for peace (as a chaotic, loud motormouth). He found his home, and it's with Wade.

On the subject of peace and home -- Logan is pretty much an immortal being, and a lot of his issues may have stemmed from the trauma of losing people he cares about, or people who got close to him, even for like 5 seconds (evidenced by ALL THE X-MEN MOVIES). He carried that with him throughout this movie, with all the references of saving the world, saving Wade's world, getting home, etc etc -- the point being, he did it for Wade, in the end (never mind Wade's educated wish that the TVA would restore Logan's past). And despite doing it for Wade, Logan was rewarded by having Wade AND Laura in his life now; both pretty much people who can't die, as part of his family. At least he will always have them -- and isn't that freeing and peaceful enough???

Last but not least -- as a circular thing, I'm going back to my first point. Wade spent the whole movie wanted to matter. In the end, he finds out that he does matter -- not just to his 'old world', but also to Logan. And be it just mutual respect, which then blooms into friendship, fondness, maybe more -- the point is: Wade does matter. To Logan. A character he spent the previous two films talking about despite not featuring at all in those movies. How do I know this you ask? Yes, Logan wanted to sacrifice himself for Wade. But more importantly, he followed Wade home. And at the end, after multiple groans, and frowns, and curses, he SMILED! AND LAUGHED! At Wade's stupid jokes!

I'm probably reading too much into their relationship and how they were written, and maybe it wasn't even Ryan's intention, but goddamn Hugh and Ryan made their chemistry/friendship bleed onto the screen, no matter how they were initially written in the script.

[londonfog-chan]

I Will Not Keep My Mouth Shut About this High School Romance Between Eddie Munson x Reader (Headcanons)

Why lord? Why are we not talking about this?

I’ve dated metalhead guys in the past, and believe in me when I say these fuckers move fast.

Eddie is no exception to this rule. He loves hard and quickly, especially if you’re into the same things he’s into as well.

I’m talking balls to the wall insanity like: the day won’t even be over and he’ll have already asked you out, kissed you, offered you weed, and secretly be planning the names of the four kids he wants with you.

Mans is delulu as fuck for you.

As much as he has his passions there’s just something about the fact that you actually gave the town freak unconditional love that makes him desperate. Corroded Coffin, Hellfire Club, he’d pick you over them any day if it meant he got to keep you.

Guarantee, you’ll already have gone all the way before the weekend is up of that first week of the relationship.

Cherry boy cherry boy cherry boy.

But he knows what he’s doing. It will have been awkward but the best part is now “Rainbow in the Dark” makes you feel all hot under the collar and “Shame on the Night” makes you laugh and reminds you of the awkward panic cleaning up after.

The epitome of live fast die young. He will throw his life away if you ask him to, so make sure you use your powers wisely.

At some point Eddie will ask you to run away with him. He doesn’t give a shit where, so long as it’s with you.

Shared interests are probably how the two of you met in the first place, especially if you’re like me and unable to beat the weird kid allegations. You drifted towards his club because you for whatever reason were an outcast too.

Eddie would probably crush on those who are conventionally pretty, popular, the epitome of the 80’s beauty standards. That’s just human nature. But with you… it’s so much more different.

You’re like his nerdy fantasies come to life, like the princesses he writes about in his campaigns that are a mix of dark, dangerous, able to hold their own and fight for him and with him. Think of if you will a sexy bombshell rotoscoped into those old metal music videos. Facing the world wearing only red lipstick and a cocksure expression.

He would get along so well with someone who wasn’t afraid to let their wild side show, or to express it. But at the same time if you’re more shy and reserved, he is determined to help you come out of that shell and be the best possible version of yourself.

It’s impossible not to match his excitable energy, it’s just so goddamn contagious. It might scare you how far you’re willing to go for Eddie and how quickly you might find yourself changing. Because believe me, you will change, and it will be for the better.

Eddie will always be your number one hype man.

He will literally be so excited about everything you do because it’s you! The person he loves more than anyone in this whole entire world.

Eddie will literally put up with so much for you. Even if you guys fight he will struggle to maintain his composure because he does not want to fuck this beautiful thing up.

Drives himself up the wall with anxiety about it too. But that’s the thing about Eddie’s dynamic with you: is that he will do what it takes to keep his fucking cool around you.

Your fights are infrequent but can get explosive if there are unsaid insecurities. So to avoid this: keep honest with him. About everything. Don’t lie to him, because as fast as he fell for you, lying is the quickest way to break his trust and send him packing.

One of his flaws in the relationship is that his insecurity that this will all go away will make him all that more prepared to leave if you have a massive blow up fight.

Like he’s already preplanned his exit strategy and everything.

But the longer you’re together, the more comfortable he gets and eventually he settles down from jumping the gun into taking things one day at a time.

He’s a fucking keeper. And all I’m gonna say is you better start training with swinging a blunt weapon because once you have him, you’re going to be right there in the Upside Down fucking up some monsters keeping them away from your man.

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Miguel Feeling Guilty For Accidentally Scratching You

Miguel “Spider-Man 2099″ O’Hara X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Blood, Miguel has nightmares, suggestive themes, slightly spoiler-y, steamy

Word Count: 1k

(A/N:) I wasn’t expecting to go see Spider-Man Across the Spider-Verse and leaving with a new crush. But here we are and I could not NOT write something for Miguel. Yep count me amongst the fangirls. So here is my offering to this specimen of a Spider-Man (I’m pretty sure it’s the fangs and claws. I’m a sucker for those not gonna even lie.). Hope the rest of the fangirls enjoy it! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Mild Spoilers Below for Spider-Man Across the Spider-Verse

Miguel’s story broke your heart the first time he had finally opened up and told you. It’s what broke the ice that remained between you both and let your relationship move a little further along. Deep down you knew you could never replace the family he once had and you never wanted to. But you did want to help him through the pain and find joy once again. Though life brought bitterness there was light in every situation. You wanted to be that light for Miguel. 

You stroked your fingers through his hair as Miguel let himself be lulled into sleep. He’d been restless here lately and he couldn’t sleep well. He put so much pressure upon himself that you were afraid it would drive him mad. The exhaustion wasn’t helping him either as the bags under his eyes only deepened. Plagued by nightmares, you had to beg for Miguel to try and get some rest. He finally; but begrudgingly, gave in and now he found himself wrapped up in your warmth floating away as sleep began to drag him under. You continued to stroke his hair, until you too fell asleep.

Miguel felt himself in a familiar place, his family playing and laughing in the park he brought them to regularly. His daughter scampering around, her giggles echoing in the air. He turned around, taking it all in when the world shattered around him with the sound of screams. Blood splashed the playground equipment and once again his family was gone. He held the lifeless form of his little girl, screaming his pain and anguish to the darkening sky.

Miguel thrashed, waking you from your slumber. His claws and fangs glinting in the moonlight. Without thinking of your own safety you grabbed onto the struggling man. Pressing him tightly into your chest and calling out his name.

“Miguel,” you called while tears trailed down your cheeks. “Please wake up it’s a dream!”

He snarled before jolting awake, finding you in the darkness. With his cheek pressed against your breast, his chest heaved as his sweat soaked into your shirt. Though he couldn’t see your face he could smell the salty tears of your grief in the air.

“I’m alright now,” he grunted trying to pull away but you wouldn’t allow him.

“Stop for a minute,” you ordered. “Just relax and then I’ll let you go.”

He gave in, letting himself lay in your arms while listening to your steady heartbeat. With your soothing pulse, he began to calm down. When you were finally satisfied you loosened your hold. Miguel couldn’t see your face, but the tension was evident in the stiffness of your body.

“Bad dream,” he said before reaching for the lamp. 

You grabbed his hand, stopping him from turning on the light. If he saw what he had done to your cheek, it would only make the situation worse.

“What’s wrong,” he asked while trying to free himself from your grasp.

“We don’t need the light on,” you replied. “Just try to go back to sleep. You’re exhausted Miguel.”

“I can’t right now, just let me turn the light on.”

You still held tightly, causing a slight twinge of annoyance to shoot through Miguel, until he scented a twinge of blood in the air. The metallic tang was unmistakable and his heart sank. Using his strength he ripped away from your grip and switched on the lamp. The light revealing what you didn’t want him to see. Your cheek had three slices in the skin, the wounds dribbling blood. Though not life threatening, Miguel felt guilt crushing him. He never wanted to hurt you with his powers and he feared he had just scarred you because he couldn’t control his mind. Reaching up he smeared away the crimson, only streaking it worse on your beautiful skin.

“Why didn’t you tell me,” Miguel growled the rage at himself barely contained.

“Cause I knew you would torture yourself with guilt,” you sighed.

“I’m a monster.”

You sighed again, “Here we go again. You are not a monster.”

You cupped his cheeks, making Miguel look you in the eye. His eyes darted from yours back to the wounds he caused, still dripping blood.

“You are my handsome Miguel O’Hara and these,” you pointed to your face, “will heal. Stop beating yourself up and get some rest you’re going to kill yourself if you don’t.”

He finally relented knowing that you were right. He was tired of feeling so burdened and weighed down by his failures. He removed the distance between you both and captured your lips with his. You melted against him, his large arms encircling your figure, letting him press you against him. Miguel grew desperate at your taste as he couldn’t get enough. His fangs elongated in his excitement, eyes drawn towards your wound once more. You were about to tell him forget it when his tongue darted out quickly, lapping at your blood. You shivered at the  caress of his tongue against the skin of your cheek. But with his help the blood finally stopped. 

Before you could thank him, Miguel captured your mouth once again. Letting himself fall into the trance that only you could bring. He moaned laying you back down without breaking apart from you. You held tightly, letting him do whatever he needed to ease himself back down. You buried your fingers in his thick hair, scratching at his scalp. Miguel deserved so much love as he had lost so much and you wanted to be that person for him. You kissed him back, not wanting him to do all the work until once again he was satisfied. Without a word he collapsed back on his side of the bed, his chest heaving. You nuzzled in closer, laying your head on his bare chest. Your body heat and gentle touches finally had Miguel falling back into sleep. The only difference this time was the nightmares left him alone this time, letting him get the much needed sleep he needed. 

[floralcyanide]

𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚 ⋇ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

Charlie Walker x Gender Neutral!Reader (NSFW)

You and Charlie are fooling around with Robbie’s live-feed camera. The two of you forget it’s on when you are in the film club room fooling around after class. (both Charlie and reader are 18+.)

warnings: smut, nsfw, technical exhibitionism, public sex, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing, Charlie and reader are 18+

word count: 926

author's note: god there's just something that drives me nuts thinking about giving Charlie head like omg. imagine. anyway here's a little imagine just for that (: I hope everyone enjoys!! also @ethanlandryslutt gave me the idea to write for charlie so shoutout to them (I will write your inexperienced smut for charlie soon hehe)

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

When Robbie was suddenly summoned for detention for not turning in homework earlier, you and Charlie thought well, this is annoying. Robbie had been discussing how important this Film Club meeting was, even though it was just you three this afternoon. You had to talk about how to plan the annual Stabathon.

“I’m gonna have to leave my camera here. No one touches it, got it?” Robbie says, moving two fingers from his eyes to you and Charlie’s direction. 

You both nod, trying not to laugh but failing once Robbie leaves the room. After you stop laughing, you and Charlie stare at each other in tense silence. You are now suddenly glad Robbie has left. Charlie looks really good today, and you aren’t going to lie- you want to eat him alive.

“Is that camera off?” you breathe out, not moving your gaze away from Charlie’s.

“I’m sure Robbie turned it off. Why-”

You lurch forward, grabbing Charlie by his face and kissing him deeply. You run your tongue along his bottom lip, forcing his mouth open so you can entangle your tongue with his. Charlie’s hands fly to your waist, his fingers digging into it when you press your hips to his. Your fingers travel from Charlie’s face to the back of his head, gripping his hair softly as you deepen the kiss even more. You start pushing Charlie slightly backward until his ass hits a desk behind him. You’re both now kissing hotly, with open mouths as you pant for air. Your hands let go of Charlie’s hair and grip the belt loops of his jeans, pulling him more flush against you. You grind your hips to gauge his reaction, to which he lets out a strangled whine. 

Sliding your fingers out from underneath the belt loops, you make use of them to unbutton and unzip Charlie’s jeans deftly. He gasps when you pull him out of his underwear.

“Are you sure we should be doing this- oh.”

You look up at Charlie through your lashes as you lick his only slightly hardened tip. You feel him harden more when you start pumping his length before putting most of it in your mouth. Charlie’s hands occupy the back of your head, massaging your scalp gently as you take him deeper. His tip hits the back of your throat, and you gag but recollect yourself quickly. You take deep breaths through your nose as you relax your throat, taking all of Charlie in as you begin to bob your head up and down.

“Fuck,” Charlie exhales, throwing his head back.

Charlie has to remove one of his hands from your hair to brace himself on the desk behind him. You look up at him, admiring his angelic appearance when being pleasured. His face is all twisted up- his eyes are squeezed shut with his lips pressed together unless he lets out a hiss or moan. You feel Charlie twitch in your mouth as he starts to involuntarily thrust into your mouth.

You hum around his length, placing one of your hands on his tailbone, pushing it forward to allow his thrusts to go deeper. Charlie is a moaning mess, trying his best to keep his sounds quiet. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Charlie warns, pulling at your hair.

You suck in your cheeks, swallowing Charlie up as much as possible as he twitches one last time. He cums down your throat, and you swallow it up and milk him as much as possible until he can’t take it anymore.

Charlie pulls out of your mouth, tucking himself back into his underwear and pulling his jeans back up.

He runs a hand through his hair, “Jesus Christ. What’s gotten into you today?”

“You just look irresistible today, is all,” you joke, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand with a smile.

Charlie is about to return the favor when suddenly, you hear someone loudly running down the hall to the classroom. There’s an erratic knocking on the door as Robbie calls, “Guys!”

You furrow your eyebrows, looking at Charlie weirdly before walking to the door and opening it.

“Are you okay, Rob?” you ask, concerned.

Robbie looks at you bewildered, and his face turns red, “Uh. I was told something was going on in here via the camera feed. And I came right away.”

You’re confused for a moment, but then it dawns on you. The camera.

“Fuck, I thought it was turned off!” you cry, running to Robbie’s camera, which just so happened to be facing where you and Charlie were previously.

“Haha, yeah, well, it wasn’t,” Robbie cringes, following you to the camera and picking it up, “Sorry folks, the show is over!”

Robbie switches off the camera, which is weird for him to do during the day. But this situation warranted it.

Charlie awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, “You might want to delete that from your site, dude.”

“Good call,” Robbie nods, “Take my laptop and do it. I have to go back to detention. Mr. Applewhite only let me go because Kirby popped in and told us there was an emergency.”

The rest of the time slot for Film Club is spent in awkward silence and a feeling of horror as you and Charlie see how many people viewed and commented on the feed. You quickly edit today’s feed and delete the part where you gave Charlie the best head of his life. Too bad everyone saw it. 

School tomorrow was going to be hell. Was it worth it? Maybe…

[damiansgoodgirll]

hi, can you write about reader and Damian both winning money In the bank please

damian priest x reader

champions

you and damian grew together in NXT. that’s where you met and where you became close friends, almost too inseparable for some people.

you were moved to main roaster together and that made you the happiest person on earth.

usually you drive together and shared hotel rooms just because it was more “convenient” for you. so many of your colleagues thought that you were dating and your fans too started thinking that.

so when you were both given the chance to qualify for money in the bank you started thinking that someone was making things up just for you to be together. in all honesty you had the biggest crush on damian but you were so scared he would reject you. you thought he saw you as a little sis or more as a best friend, you knew he loved the “rockstar lifestyle” and hooking up with random women was his thing.

you didn’t notice how he stopped doing that when you started spending more time together though. he was in love with you, he fell for you the moment he met you but due to his past of being a “latin lover” he always thought you deserved better.

he wouldn’t tell you but he was so excited that you were both qualifying for money in the bank, meaning that if you actually qualify you would be flying together and staying in london together.

and of course - it happened.

you both qualify and now you were going to fight for the money in the bank titles.

during your flight to london you sat together on the plane and your best friend rhea couldn’t stop teasing you. she would take pictures and of the two of you sleeping close to one another or the two of you watching a movie, cuddled together.

as you were watching the men fighting for the briefcase you couldn’t stop but panic a little when you saw damian was on the floor.

“c’mon damian…” you whispered to yourself.

you were in rhea’s changing room. she invited you over to watch damian because she knew how anxiety would get the best of you in these situations. she sat next to you trying to calm you down.

but joy erupted in the room when you saw damian lifting that briefcase, meaning he won.

“yes yes yes” you started screaming and jumping. rhea couldn’t believe that was the same person a few minutes ago was biting her lips to hard to draw blood.

when damian came back you were the first one to congratulate with him. you literally jumped over him.

“oh my god damian i’m so proud” you said hugging him to death.

he couldn’t stop laughing from how clingy you were in that moment. it was the first time someone was proud of him like that, not even his own father when he won his first championship.

“i’m glad you’re happy” he smiled.

rhea was smirking the whole time, watching the two of you flirting with each other.

you both started at each other for a moment and you swore something was going to happen but finn came behind him and congratulated with him, ruining your moment.

“i better go get ready…” you smiled to damian and he nodded.

you were going to compete for the female briefcase and this was going to be your first time ever. you were nervous as hell.

you were not gonna lie, this fight was hardest than the men’s one. it felt like an eternity but you were determined to lift that case up. so you fought with teeth and blood.

damian was cheering for you and honestly he couldn’t believe how much energy you had for that match. he knew you and he knew when you wanted something you would always get it.

so he was the happiest men on earth when he saw you lifting the briefcase. everyone was cheering for you, back stage and the fans too. everyone loved you and saw the potential you had.

he was the first one to greet you when you came back in the backstage.

“you did princesa!” he said lifting you up.

“yayy!” you were on cloud nine.

“we’re both champions!” he whispered to you “i’m so happy for you y/n, you deserve it so much!”

“you too dam! i know how much you’ve been wanting this, you deserve it so much” you said honestly.

that again. the spark between the two of you. this time there was no one that could ruin your moment.

damian’s lips were just a few inches away from yours.

“if i do this…there’s no going back mariposa…” he whispered.

“i’ve been wanting this for so long…” you said and in that moment his lips gently posed on yours. it was a soft kiss, full of love and care. his hands gently laid on your hips and he pushed you a little towards him. you stayed there for what it felt an eternity.

“i wanted to kiss you from the moment we met…i was just scared” damian confessed.

“scared of what?”

“you deserve so much more y/n…i know that you deserve so much more than me but at the same time i can’t help what i feel for you” he said looking at you.

“you’re the one i want damian…i’ve always wanted you, i never thought i was your type…i mean i’ve seen the women you used to hook up with and i’m nothing like that…” you whispered.

“you’re the person i would love not the person i would occasionally hook up with…you deserve so much love y/n and if you let me i’ll make you the happiest woman on earth…” he confessed with such vulnerability you thought that was a different man from the damian you knew.

you were speechless so you did the only rational thing you could think of and you kissed him.

he took your reaction as a yes.

so you went straight back to the hotel, ordered some take out and spent the night watching movies together and falling asleep in each other arms.

[slutforpringles]

I see everyone cranky about the article about perez's sponsors and the constructor's bonus. But i feel like it's gonna work out ok. Or ok-ish at least. The chances that daniel gets in the car and immediately makes up the difference in the constructor's is low. Max is struggling with the car and he's been in it all year. So either way the constructor's is likely a write off. This way, the bonus is covered. And they can still put daniel in for next year, especially if perez bottles the rest of season. Sponsor's or not, if he fucks it up and doesn't meet his contract clauses at least they're seen to have tried to help him meet the targets. So not totally pissing sponsors off. Maybe daniel doesn't have the exact same money behind him, but he is a big sponsor draw. Obviously it's bullshit on daniel's side to keep getting the goal posts moved, but I'm trying to hold on to the hope that it'll actually work in his favour! What do you think?

Yep I definitely think there are upsides to Daniel not being in the Red Bull. As you said it is a tricky car to drive currently, and while I wholeheartedly believe that Daniel would be doing a better job than Payrez currently, I also don't know if he would be able to wring performance out of it to the same degree that Max has been able to. He would be under mountains of pressure to perform immediately, and I can easily see him being blamed en masse by fans if Red Bull were still to lose the constructors.

I won't lie, a small part of me still worries that if there's absolutely zero improvement post-summer break that Red Bull won't suddenly go 'oh shit we have to do something now' and put Daniel in the car after Singapore - which would make the pressure/situation even more challenging. Honestly though in that scenario my biggest concern would be his safety and security at COTA and in particular Mexico - some of the absolute fanatical lunacy I have seen online by Mexican journalists/commentators and the amount of hate it has stirred up is quite honestly bonkers, so I really hope for Daniel's sake he's not parachuted in post-Singapore.

Also to be honest I'm quite excited to see Daniel's continued progression at Vcarb. I've been really impressed by how he and his engineers have knuckled down and found solutions to issues he was having and they have really made some pretty huge steps since his early season struggles. I think he clearly gets on well with Pierre and they've found their groove, and it'd be nice to see Daniel get a full season with Vcarb to continue that trend and really prove to people he deserves that Red Bull seat. I also think the next big lot of Vcarb upgrades are likely to be quite impactful, especially since they seem to have understood why the last upgrades didn't work out.

So while I do find the Red Bull/Payrez situation infuriating, it's definitely not all doom and gloom. I think there's still a huge amount of positive momentum going Daniel's way, he just needs to continue to put in those solid performances we saw from him before the summer break!! ✨🫶🏻🙏🏻👏🏻

[mayasaurusss]

Day twelve: walk trough a graveyard. Contents: implied that reader and Shauna are togheter, but no romantic scenes.

A/N: this was originally gonna be the "Well...you grabbed my hand first" prompt but at the end I have noticed that I completley got derailed and forgot to write that prompt. So I moved what was going to be today's prompt tomorrow, and what was going to be the 22th prompt today. My bad!😥

"I just want to state, once again, how this might be the most...dickhead idea you've ever had". Shauna's fingers thighten on your hand, almost hurting. "Oh come on, it's just a graveyard". You didn't know what possessed your mind on this cold dark night, but you had decided to go take a walk in the town's graveyard; and forced Shauna to come with you.

"I'm bored" were the words that would doom Shauna's calm evening that night. "We've seen every movie, talked about every book, done everything," you threw your arms in the air, "and the fair won't come for another two weeks!". "We should do something exciting" Shauna hummed for behind her books, nose deep inside the pages. "What do you plan on doing?" your evil smirk should have been the first sing she had to look out for. "You know what should we do?".

"I hate you" she says as she walks closely behind you, pressing into your body and making walking through the vines difficult. Shauna would lie if she said she didn't feel creeped out by all this. As if to spur her fears even more, you hadn't decided to walk through the modern cemetery; that would have been far too boring. No, you decided to go to the old abandoned one outiside town, as old as the knowledge that bodies would infect the living if not buried. The graveyard's dates all the way back to the ending of the civil war. Most of the graveyars's dates of birth and death's are before the strike of the 20th century. It was dark, so dark that your flashlight could only light up an arm's lenght from you. Countless of graves laid dormant in the cemetery, vines growing in the stone's cracks. "Couldn't we have gone like...to, I dunno, a movie drive-in?" her voice is small against the darkness. She's whispering, scared that she might wake up something old. "You don't have to whisper. There is no one here" you say, far too loud in the stillness of the graveyard. "We've already seen all the movies there are out there, just this once we could do something more exciting! Halloween is coming up after all..." you bend down to examine a small doll left near a grave. "I keep telling you, it's not fucking possible we've seen all movies in existence" Shauna cringes as she watches you touch the old porcelain doll, a small bug crawling out of it's eye socket. "AND DON'T- don't touch that stuff. You don't know what might happen!". You let out a loud laugh, certanly disturbing whatever was lurking in the dark. "What? Are you afraid of some ghosts?" you continue walking, your feets untangling the vines on the ground. "N-No!" the hooting of an owl echoes from behind the trees. Coupled with the sound of falling leaves hitting the ground, it certainly did not put Shauna's nerves at ease. Well, not just of ghosts. "W-well, it's dirty; it could have- give you some strange sickeness" suddenly she's very interested to know to whom this doll belonged. The name has faded with time, but she can make out a date: "-rn in 1896-died in 1908". They were just a kid. "Put that doll back, now-"she stops when the sound of something falling echoes in the graveyard. An unnatural silence follows after.

"What the- what the fuck was that?!" she whipser-yells at you, her hand tugging and tighening around yours. You are trying so hard to keep calm, but your brain screams at you that there is something very wrong, something to run away from. You feel your words choke in your throath, "Pro-probably just a cat...".

"Cat's can't-!" a single small rock tumbles from the darkness towards you, stopping right at your feet. You move your head when Shauna gasps, just in time to see a pair of yellow eyes watching you.

It all takes a moment for you two to run out of the cemetery and let your feet carry you far away. You only stop when the air feels too thin and too little for you to breathe. Shauna's hands grip her knees, steadying herself; "What...what has-" you get up and expand your chest to make air flow freely from your lungs. "I don't know...". Some minutes after, your bain tries to rationalize everything that happened. "It was probably nothing. We were-" you swallow your saliva, "It was dark. We were just a bit scared and prob...probably mistoke a cat for a ghost or person" you hope that is the thruth. "You are right..." Shauna gets close to you, pressing her head on your shoulder. "The next time...we will watch a movie...".

After your little adventure, you and Shauna have spent the rest of the night in your room watching movies -strictly comedy, no horror- and she has fallen asleep on you. You have reminded yourself to ask for her forgivness in the morning, and to promise her that you'll never have any of these ideas ever.

You are about to dooze off, when you see something move. The street lights outside of your window shine on the roadway; just behind it, near a tree, a pair of yellow eyes watch you. It's too small to be a human; a small black cat jumps out of the grass and runs away. You let out a exhale of relief and close your eyes, almost missing the hand waving at you from the darkness.

[lxvemaze]

彡why can't i hate you?

pairing' young k x reader

genre' angst

warnings' good relationship gone bad, reminiscing about past relationship, reader is still in love with younghyun, flashbacks written in italics, based off of "i loved you" by day6

wc' 1.6k

a/n' i listened to "i loved you" at least forty times back-to-back yesterday, so i decided to write a fic about my bias based on the lyrics 🙏 is anyone gonna read this? ofc not. am i still gonna post it? yes ofc

You hated him. God, you hated him. If your mother had heard you say that, she would’ve scoffed and told you, “Hate is a strong word.” But you thought it wasn’t strong enough. Scrolling through the Google drive he had sent you on your last anniversary that was filled with all the old pictures and videos he'd taken of the two of you on his stupid vintage film camera, you could only think of all the things about him that you hated. You hated his stupid hair that you used to run your fingers through at night, his pointy nose that you used to kiss in the mornings before you left for work, his calloused hands that used to hold you with such warmth, his pretty lips that once told you that he couldn’t imagine living without you, that he would love you till the day he died. The same lips that told you he didn’t love you anymore.

“I just…can’t do this anymore.”

You stood still in the kitchen of your apartment, your hands frozen as they still held the potato you were peeling as you prepared dinner for yourself and your boyfriend of six years. It was Friday night, which meant that Younghyun had come over for dinner, as he had nearly every Friday for the past six years- barring the times he’s been on tour. When he’d arrived at your apartment, you could tell that something was off. You’d just assumed that he’d had a bad day, or was just tired. You never would have thought that he’d be telling you this. Not after you’d discussed engagement rings just last week.

“What are you trying to say? You’re just breaking up with me? Did I do something? Did I say something?”

He shook his head with his face in his hands as you rambled on, questioning what could’ve possibly made him say these things to you. He looked up at you, both of you looked a wreck, tears in your eyes and noses running.

“It’s not that. You…You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why? What happened? Why now?”He took a deep breath as he took in your disheveled state. The tears from your face had fallen onto your pretty powder blue sweater, and he fought the urge to smile at the thought that even after all the years you’d been together, all the fights you’d had, all the times you’d seen each other at your worst, you still tried to look pretty for him. But as sweet as that thought was, it still couldn’t change how he felt.

“I don’t know. I just…I don’t know how else to say it. But I just…” He took another breath to steady his shaking voice, “I just…Don’t love you anymore.”

You hated how he never gave you a reason. Even after crying and begging, he couldn’t tell you. And maybe you said some things that you shouldn’t have, maybe telling him to leave, that you never wanted to see him again was going too far. And maybe it was a lie.

After he left, you found that he’d blocked your number, your socials, everything. Just like that, he erased you from his life. You resented him for that. After he left, you went numb for a few weeks. It was like your whole world had ended, like everything had lost all its meaning. Your mom came by almost every day to check on you, and of course to tell you that she never really liked Younghyun, that she just wanted you to be happy, and you’d be better off without him anyway. You hated how she talked about him.

After a while, you decided to pick yourself up and go about life as if he never existed. You threw out all the things he’d left at your apartment over the years, including the plant he’d given you as a housewarming gift when you first moved in. You tried to forget him, forget the time you spent with him, the trips you went on, everything. It was hard when your coworkers and friends would ask about him, when your cousin asked if you were bringing him to the upcoming family reunion, when the little old lady that lived in the apartment next to yours knocked on your door to ask if he could carry her new coffee table up to her apartment.

You were doing well at forgetting his existence. It had been almost three months, and your apartment had been scrubbed clean of any trace of him, all his photos had been deleted from your camera roll. But while you were sitting on your computer in your home office, scrolling through your Google drive to try and find an old work project that you needed to reference in a new report, you came across his last anniversary present to you. You couldn’t stop yourself before you clicked on it. Looking through all the old photos and videos of the past six years, you felt nothing but resentment as you saw his smiling face in the thumbnails.

You must have been scrolling for at least half an hour before you stopped at a certain video, the thumbnail bringing up a particularly harsh memory. You hesitantly clicked on the video, and the sound of your own laughter flooded from your speakers.

He’d really outdone himself this time. When he’d asked you a month ago what the number one place to go on your bucket list was, you immediately told him “Vienna”. You’d wanted to go ever since you were a little kid and you’d heard the BIlly Joel song of the same name coming from your dad’s record player. Little did you know that he’d take you there as a surprise for your fourth anniversary.

You giggled in glee as you looked out across the beautiful river that you’d always longed to see. You turned to see Younghyun pointing his camera at you, grinning as he observed your reaction. 

“Are you filming me?”

“How could I not?” He laughed as you playfully swatted at the camera, pulling the neck of your sweater over your face so he couldn’t film it. “You’re just so beautiful, I can’t help it.”

You stilled and smiled as he reached one hand out to grab your own and drag it away from your face, the neck of your sweater falling back into place at your collarbone. He pressed your knuckles to his lips before turning the camera so the both of you were in the frame. You wrapped your arms around each other, his arm that was not holding the camera coming to rest across your shoulders. You reached one hand up to grab his hand that rested on your shoulder, while your other hand went to the back of his neck, your fingers lazily playing with the soft brown hair that you loved so much.

The two of you smiled at the camera for a moment, listening to the river lazily flowing as the sun set behind you and the crisp autumn air blew through your hair. Younghyun turned to look at you, his eyes scanning over your features, smiling lazily as you turned to meet his gaze. 

“What?”

“Nothin’. I just love you.”

You grinned as you bounced on your tippy toes to leave a quick gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. “Really?”

He shifted his arm that rested across your shoulders downwards so it wrapped around your waist, his hand playing with a loose string at the bottom of your sweater. “Yeah…You know, I can’t imagine living without you.”

You blushed and buried your face into his shoulder, his hand tightening around your waist. “Younghyun, you can’t just say things like that.”

He grinned and pressed his lips to the top of your head, “It’s true, though. I’m gonna love you till the day I die.”

You pulled away briefly to look up at his face, which was smiling warmly down at you, his eyes filled with nothing but fondness as they met your own. You narrowed your eyes at him, looking up at the camera and back to him.

“...You’re not about to propose to me are you?”

He let out a laugh before bringing you in closer, pressing another kiss to the top of your head before burying his face into your hair. “No, not yet. It’s coming, though.”

You looked up at him again, the look of love on his face told you that he was telling the truth. “I’ll be waiting.”

You didn’t feel the tears that had been cascading down your cheeks until the video had ended. You hated him. You resented him. You never wanted to see him again. So why were you crying? Was it because you wasted six years of your life? Was it because you felt lied to? Why were you wasting your time crying over a man that didn’t love you? Over a relationship that was never meant to be? Why did it hurt so much?

You hated him. You hated him. You hated him.

But as your tears started falling harder and soft sobs escaped your mouth, you knew the truth. You didn’t hate him. You never hated him. You loved him. You knew deep in your heart, that you really did love him. You loved him so badly, it made you hate him all that much more. No matter how many times you tried to erase him from your memory, or how many times you tried to forget the love that he gave, or the time you spent with him, you knew you never could. Because you loved him. And deep down, you always would.

[pullhisteeth]

hi! i don’t know if you take requests or are taking requests, but i was wondering if you could write a little something about reader telling eddie she loves him for the first time or vice versa. i always feel like eddie would cry upon hearing that someone loved him back but idk. alsoooo maybe a little smut if you’re feeling up for it 👀

(if you’re not taking requests then please disregard this lol i just love your writing 💕)

xxx

thank you for the request my love! I adored writing this - I got very very carried away (it's over 3k words lol). I hope it's what you were after. and thank you so much for being so kind! you're the best <3

contains smut so 18+! minors dni.

-

Lover's Lake is quiet at this time of night. It's the best place to see the stars over Hawkins, and Eddie knows this. He also knows you'd die for the night sky; you've spent enough night-time drives with your head stuck out the passenger seat window to get a better view. He's considered sawing a hole out of the roof of the van just so you can lie in the back and stare up at the sky while he drives.

That'd be stupid, of course, but you have a habit of sending Eddie stupid.

It's so quiet out here that you should be completely at peace. Instead, all you can hear is the blood rushing past your ears; you feel the throb of your heart in your fingertips and the warmth of Eddie behind you is like a bonfire on your back.

"You okay?"

His mouth is right by your ear, and his breath brushes your hair and inflames the skin beneath your jaw. Your back is to his chest, his arms around your waist, the two of you perched in the doorway at the back of his van with your legs dangling over the bumper.

You hum in response, confident he'll hear you since his chin's resting on your shoulder.

"Are you?" you whisper.

"Never been better," he whispers back, punctuating with a kiss to the space under your ear. You feel his sly smile when you shiver.

It's early September. Hawkins is warm, summer ebbing away slower than usual, and you're coming out the other side of a summer that makes your head spin if you think about it too hard.

"Hey," Eddie murmurs, shifting behind you. His arms relent their grip on you, so you turn. Even in the depths of this summer night, skin flushed by the lingering heat and Eddie's affection, you don't dare look him in the eye.

"What?" you ask, eyes dancing around the floor beneath him.

"Look at me," he says, voice firm. You do, ignoring the wild hammering inside your chest, against all your better judgement because it's Eddie, and you'd do anything for him.

"Are you okay? Really?" he asks, and the crack in his voice sends you reeling. With eyes all sad and brows turned down, he looks at you, imploring.

You move quick, legs swung up into the van so you can move over to him on your knees. He's moved himself away from you and you're not sure why, but you are sure that you despise the space between you.

Settled on your knees about two feet away from him, you say, "So okay. Why?"

"Your heart's beating like a fuckin' timebomb, sugar."

"Oh," you breathe. He's trapped you, and there's only one way out of this. 

You reach your arms out to bridge the gap, making stupid grabby hands that he can't help but laugh at. He takes them and pulls you in, helping you lift your knees over his legs, arms returning to their rightful place around your middle. On his shoulder you rest your cheek, mouth close to his neck but not touching it, and you wind your arms around his back.

"I love you," you murmur, scared that if you say it too loud something cataclysmic could happen. Hawkins can't take another chasm.

You feel him relax under your hands. It's as though the muscles are sighing, settling back into their usual spaces. You realise he'd been tense beneath you and you breathe out as you feel him go limp.

But he doesn't say anything. You push yourself off of him to look at him but he turns his head to the side so you can't see him.

As if that's gonna work, you think, bringing your fingers up to trace the side of his jaw you can't see. In fact, his whole face is obscured by his hair. You frown, concerned.

"Eddie, baby," you coo, voice low and soft. "You gotta look at me."

On your wrist you feel the long, slow breath out of his nose. Though you can't see him you know what he's doing - when the nightmares got particularly bad in June you'd taught him this technique, a way to slow his heart and stop his mind racing. Close your eyes, breathe in, breathe out.

It turns your stomach to think he feels like that now.

Your fingers on his face don't apply any force. You're willing him to turn to you on his own, hoping desperately that this isn't the end, that you didn't just ruin this.

You hear the blood more than ever now. It reminds you of the way you feel after sex with Eddie, after he's taken care of you so many times in a handful of hours that it barely feels like your skeleton is holding itself together. You never imagined you'd be the kind of person to have a summer fling, always thought that was something that happened in the movies, to people like Danny and Sandy, but in May you'd found yourself in Eddie Munson's bed and by July you'd fallen deep, deep into the abyss you've come to know is love.

The more the seconds pass, you two sat in stillness in the back of his van like this, the more you convince yourself that for him, this was just that. A fling.

Finally, you feel him stir and his breath falter. And then he turns slowly, a hand rubbing down his face, and as he does you brush the hair out of his face. Your own breath hitches when you see his eyes.

His gaze is fixed downwards, but you can still see that he's all red and wet. There are smudged tears around his lashes. It takes everything in you not to kiss them away.

"Eddie?"

You reach your hand to mirror the other, holding his head in two palms. He brings his own around your wrists where he holds them, gentle but firm, thumb swirling circles into the skin.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, and you watch as his eyes rise to meet yours. You damn near kill him when they do, your face all soft and sad. He wants to fix it.

"No, shit, babe, you don't have to be sorry." His voice is as wet as his face, thick like treacle, words like cotton wool.

"But-"

"I love you," he says. His voice is louder than before, cutting you off mid-plea, though it's still full of affection. "But it scares me."

"Why?" You tilt your head like a sad puppy and Eddie all but combusts on the spot.

He does it again - closes his eyes, breathes in, breathes out - and then says, words wavering but intentional: "No one has ever told me they love me before."

You can't help the sharp breath you take in at his words. It seems to take your brain a moment to catch up, and it's Eddie's nervous chuckle that draws you back.

"You're serious?" you say, completely unable to compute what he's said.

"Uh, yeah."

"Oh, Eds," you breathe, a whine, hovering your lips close to his face. You kiss his cheek three times, then his nose and the space between his eyebrows. His eyes flutter shut under your touch, your palms still either side of his face and his own hands still clutching your wrists. "I love you," you tell him again with a kiss to his brow. "I love you," with a kiss to his temple. "I love you," with a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He laughs, and asks, "what are you doing?"

"Making up for it."

His fingers clench tighter around your arms and you pretend that you don't feel the jolt to your centre at the pressure.

"What?"

"Making up for the 23 years you've not had people telling you they love you." Kiss. "'Cos they do, y'know." Kiss. "Just have a weird way of saying it." Kiss. "So I'm telling you: I love you."

He manages to catch your lips with his own and kisses you back, deep and moved by warm, syrupy love.

"I love you, too," he says again, mouth on yours. He moves down your jaw, peppering kisses along it and down the column of your throat. His fingers on your wrist were already sending you dizzy in your post-anxious haze, but now you know where this is going. You know that he knows what this does to you, and when he makes for your collarbones you're sure you're a goner. 

The lock of his fingers releases and he traces them down your forearm until they settle on your waist, skirting the hem of your top. The sensation of them on your skin there, on the hollow of your sides, sends jolts down your spine and between your thighs, where you squirm in an attempt to relieve at least some of the tension.

To distract yourself, you raise your arms, a signal that he should lift your shirt. He pulls the fabric up and over your head, laughing softly with you when it gets caught in your hair.

Eddie has seen you naked more times than you can count since May. The first time, he was a nervous wreck, mind half on not tearing open his two-month-old wounds and half on making sure you had the best time. And you did, and he only got better each time after that.

Here, underneath you, he sits staring at your bare chest like he's a starved man. It's kind of feral, which should perhaps worry you, but he's so loving that it only winds you up more.

His lips are on you before you can think to feel too softly about all of this.

"Eddie," you pant. He groans into the stretched skin of your sternum, where he's kissing down, down, down, as low as his dipped head will allow. With his hands now on your back, one up between your shoulder blades and another lower down, he leans you backwards so he can keep going. You crane your neck back and think, briefly, about how pornographic this must look. The thought drives you completely wild. 

He lowers you slowly to the ground. Sitting back up, he reaches to pull his own shirt over his head, before climbing awkwardly over you to pull the doors shut. There's no one out here, there never is, but he knows you'd spend the whole thing anxious about being caught. All he wants is for you to be comfortable.

You sit up to pull your sneakers and shorts off, so that when he's back you're lying down again in just your pants and white tennis socks. He lowers himself, knees either side of your thighs, hands on the flesh there, kneading it like dough, and bends over you. He kisses across your collarbones, back up your jaw, retracing his steps. When he kisses the corner of your mouth, he says, "I love you."

You say it back, pushing the words back into his mouth, kissing him softly.

Sex with Eddie is always tender, sure, but it's also almost always quick, rough and time-efficient. Not in an unsexy way; it's how you've both liked it for the last few months, stealing moments when you can between pool parties and movie nights and shifts at work.

You'd known tonight was different when Eddie had asked you up here. You're not not exclusive, though the question's never been explicitly asked - if anyone was to pry, you'd always refer to him as your boyfriend - but this feels like a real date.

And so this sex is different, too. Softer, warmer, slower. You help him pull his jeans down, all the way off, and then you hook your fingers over the waistband of his underwear. But he comes to grip your wrist again, stopping you, and he huffs a laugh when you whine.

"Not yet," he breathes, lifting himself up.

"But Eddie-"

"Stop being impatient," he teases. His fingers are still locked around your wrist. "We have all the time in the world."

You melt. Is this what you think it is?

"Really?"

"Really."

He kisses you again, and you keen into his mouth. You feel his touch against your hip bone, and his fingers curl around your underwear. Tugging them down, his other hand runs down your thigh and under your knee, helping himself undress you completely.

"You," he breathes, "are so fuckin' beautiful."

You giggle, biting your lip to suppress a grin. You turn your head to one side, cheek brushing the old blanket that covers the floor, and he seizes the opportunity to kiss under your ear and down your neck.

"Look at me," he says again. When you don't, instead craning your neck to wind him up, he digs his fingers into your sides and you squirm beneath him, laughing.

Your eyes meet his and as they do, you feel his fingers on the skin right above where you want him most. He plots a dance across your hips and down between your thighs, teasing and cruel, but his eyes are so gorgeous and dark and all lovesick and it's so hard to be mad at him.

Finally, they find your clit, find purchase on the skin despite how wet you've become. He hums a smug, proud noise when you arch your back at his touch.

You feel euphoric at these light swipes alone; God knows what you'll be like when he's inside you.

As you think this, the thought consumes you. It swallows you whole, filling every space with thoughts of Eddie.

"Need you," you whimper.

"Oh yeah?"

You groan at his cockiness, at his teasing and the fact his fingers still aren't inside you.

You try to say, "please," but the word comes out strangled. You're desperate, aching, caving in from the inside out.

"You're asking so nicely," he croons, tone mocking. And then he moves, leans down over you so your bare chest presses to his, and he says in your ear with a new breathlessness, "you're so good."

The praise is like gasoline on this incredibly torturous fire. You can't bear it, your hands are everywhere, all over his back and down to his underwear which you want rid of immediately.

"Please, Eds," you say again, and you smile when you hear him groan at the petname. You are the only person who calls him that, and you reserve it for when you want something from him.

"I'm trying to be romantic," he says with a breathy laugh.

"I don't care," you bark out without thinking.

"Fine," he says back, resolute. "You wanna be like that? You'll get what you ask for."

The switch in his tone is like a firecracker. You're all wriggly and about as impatient as a person can get by now, enthralled by the prospect that he might finally get inside you.

He sits up on his heels and manages to get his underwear off. You sit up on your elbows to look at him properly, wonderstruck.

"You're so pretty," you breathe out.

He laughs at you, and says, "y'really know how to get a guy goin', huh?"

You just reach one arm up, shifting your weight onto one elbow, and make those same grabby hands at him that you had earlier, before you'd bared all to him and told him you love him.

"Alright, alright," he says, leaning back over you. Your impatient fingers coil around his cock, at which he hisses out air through his teeth. You flick your thumb over the tip and pull your hand up and down a few times, before he covers it with his own hand and pries it away gently. He locks his fingers with yours and you think you really might melt from how happy you are.

"You ready?"

"So ready," you plead.

But he doesn't move, even when you scratch his back lightly with your other hand. Instead, he looks down at you with a strange expression.

"What?" you ask.

"I love you," he tells you again. It makes you flush; you feel a warmth spread up your scalp and across your cheeks, and you can't help the way you smile back at him.

Finally, he adjusts himself at your entrance, and slowly pushes in. Even now, after months of this, you need time to get used to him and he knows it, relishes in it. Arching your back you dig your nails even deeper into the flesh of his back, grip his hand even harder, and moan a sound that makes him answer your call with his own.

That's all you can hear: your own breathy moans, Eddie's groans, and skin on skin. It's otherworldly; you'd be happy here forever.

In and out, he thrusts slow and firm. He's being gentle; you can tell that even though he'd feigned a roughness that usually excites you, he'd been intent on tonight being like this since the beginning.

It's unlike any of the sex you've ever had with him before, and you could see yourself getting used to it.

"Eddie, oh my god-"

"I know, I know," he pants. He's squinting, eyes tight shut, so you reach up to hold one side of his face. He opens them and looks at you as he slows his thrusts, and comes down to kiss you. As he picks up the pace again, it becomes a mess of lips and teeth.

"Eddie, I- I-"

"I've got you, sugar."

In answer to your unspoken request, he relinquishes your hand and moves his fingers between your bodies to your clit, drawing quick circles that make your eyes roll back into your skull. You're close, so close; there's a fire within that is spreading, your walls are clenching tighter, your vision's burning brighter.

You know he's there, too, close to the edge you're both about to fall off. Just a few more thrusts, a few more deft movements of his fingers on your clit and you burst, a supernova, bright and hot.

You scream his name as you come undone, limbs limp and mind blank. He pants above you, concentrating, murmuring sweet nothings that make no sense but send you dizzy anyway. 

"Good girl," he says through swift breaths. "So, so good."

He's riding you through your orgasm, bringing you to the very edge of sensitivity, until he goes, too. You feel him go rigid and with a groan he comes, warm and familiar inside you.

As he rests on you for a moment, still inside you, you brush his hair out of his face and kiss him gently on his cheek.

"I love you," you tell him again, for the thousandth time that evening.

"I love you, too," he repeats.

-

[bimrsadler]

For something nasty? Low Honor!Arthur with an F!reader in a scenario that leads to either dub-con or con-nonconsent (your choice) because she's physically ill somehow? Maybe vulnerable to Arthur due to a bad showdown/gunshot or just wrong place wrong time? Sounds weird I bet dfjblg but if you do do this, ty!!

In A Bind

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female reader

Word count: 3,000

Warnings/tags: nsft, con-noncon, lots of dirty talk, d/s themes with bratty reader, rough oral (m receiving), rough sex, unprotected piv, creampie, light degradation, LH Arthur, established relationship/consent

Summary: after a failed robbery lands you in a Rhodes jail cell, Arthur comes to spring you but finds he can kill two birds with one stone in the process

Notes: this is just 3k words of smut basically lol, also my first time writing cnc so I kept it on the lighter side (plus even LH Arthur would never go further than that imo) but that being said if cnc of any kind is an ick for you - don’t read

Twiddling your thumbs in the quiet jail cell, you watched shadows from the trees outside as they danced on the wall — wishing desperately you hadn’t gotten yourself into this mess.

Arthur would no doubt be unbearable about it, with his sarcastic tsk tsks and I told ya so’s as he stood tall with his hands on his gunbelt, shit-eating grin wide and proud on his face. But dear God, as much as he could drive you crazy, he charmed you to death as he did.

It had been some time now since Sheriff Gray stumbled outside on “business,” clearly drunk on the moonshine the boys had recently recovered.

Unfortunately he had been sober enough to chase you down after a stagecoach robbery gone south the day before.

The bullet he fired grazed your leg and spooked your horse, stirrup catching around your ankle and twisting it as you hit the ground hard enough to knock the air from your lungs.

You were given cloth to tie around it and you’d seen worse, but it would put you out of commission for a few days.

Eventually the heavy footfall of boots on the wood floor broke the silence as Arthur came into view. Sauntering over with that stupid grin and familiar stance — he stopped in front of your cell and laughed.

“Well, well…quite a predicament you got yerself in missy,” after a pause and lazy scratch of his short beard he continued condescendingly. “I told ya not to go pokin’ ‘round where ya ain’t ‘sposed to.”

“I’ll poke around wherever I goddamn please, Mr. Morgan,” you stated unabashedly.

He raised his eyebrows and scoffed (smug taunt), “and look where that’s got ya.”

“I saw an opening and I took it. Care to tell me how many times Hosea and Dutch have rescued you over the years?”

“Lotta tough talk from a little lady stuck in a jail cell, don’tcha think?”

Arthur leaned closer to the bars and lowered his voice, “way I see it, you oughta choose yer next words carefully seein’ as I’m the only one who can help.”

Ignoring his vague threat you gestured towards his chest, “I think that silly little badge you’ve been wearing is going to your head. I can take care of myself.”

“That so? You ain’t foolin’ me. I could see that little shiver when I walked in, and yer still breathin’ fast. From where I’m standin’?”

Arthur reached through the bars to caress your cheek, a gesture in stark contrast to his deep and rough drawl. “Ya look like a rabbit caught in a trap.”

He slowly moved his hand along the growing length in his jeans, palming languidly at the sight of you sweating. “Now…what’re ya gonna do fer me if I let ya out? Seems fair don’t it?”

Astounded with his audacity you scoffed, “my leg’s hurt, the hell do you expect me to be able to do?”

Arthur responded without missing a beat, “ya can kneel right? Yer mouth ain’t hurt is it?”

“Pig,” you sneered as you crossed your arms in protest.

He chuckled darkly at your insult, rubbing himself harder. “Ya can lie down and open them pretty legs for me can’tcha?”

“I think you’re all talk, tough guy. Why don’t you come in here and make me?”

Arthurs eyes studied your face as you tried not to break your showing of defiance. You were going to make him fight for it as long as you could.

He was surprisingly agile for such a large man, giving you no time to react before your wrist was trapped in his much larger, much more powerful hand.

“C’mon asshole, knock it off.” Swearing under your breath and trying to pull away did nothing as he tied your wrists around the cool metal bars with his bandana.

“Quit squirmin’ and get on yer knees.”

You leaned in as close to the outlaws face as you could against the bars and spoke in a daring whisper, “ya deaf? I said, you’re gonna have to make me.”

Arthur placed a powerful hand on the shoulder opposite of your hurt leg and pushed. Even at his gentlest he was exceptionally strong, barely needing to use any of his strength to urge you down.

Freeing himself from the confines of his pants, he stroked his twitching cock inches from your face and thumbed your lower lip with his other hand.

You turned your head away from him defiantly, contempt clear on your face.

“Ah ah, what’s the matter princess? Too good for this? You’ll be cryin’ my name in no time, that’s a promise.”

“You wish.”

“Quit stallin’ now or you’ll be stuck in here even longer.”

Placing his forefinger and thumb on your chin he moved you to face him, broad figure towering above you as he waited for your warm mouth.

Positioning himself between the bars in front of you, he prodded your lips apart with the head, urging his hips forward as you took him further.

Arthur let out a long, groaning sigh. “That’s it, take it darlin’.”

He was slow at first, pushing to the back of your throat gently as you adjusted your lips to his girth; twirling your tongue around the tip and hollowing your cheeks along the shaft.

Glancing up you saw Arthur’s arms extended above him, hands white-knuckling the bars and eyes sealed shut it bliss. Every light thrust he made was accompanied by a sharp breath or husky groan.

Feeling ashamed, you realized the sight and sensation made your pussy absolutely throb — it was already becoming difficult to pretend you didn’t want this.

Small moans traveled up your throat and vibrated around his cock as you bobbed your head eagerly; shifting on the floor and squeezing your knees together to accommodate the uncomfortable arousal.

Always keen on your body and its responses to him, Arthur grinned and sucked the air through his teeth. “See? I knew you wanted this, I bet yer soaking through to the floor just from suckin’ on me. That right?”

You were dangerously close to giving into your lust drunk stupor, to rambling and moaning with spit hanging off your chin; though you couldn’t give him the satisfaction without a fight just yet.

You pulled your head back and away to remove him from your mouth, looking up at him with raised eyebrows. “Lotta talk for someone who was about to come in ten more seconds.”

“We’ll see if yer still sassin’ me like this when ya can’t walk tomorrow. Now, I asked you a question woman.”

You batted your lashes and smirked, “that’s funny, I don’t recall hearing a question. All I could hear was you whimpering.”

Gathering a fistful of your hair Arthur pushed into your mouth and to the back of your throat, causing a gag as your nose met his chestnut curls. The thrusts were rough and sloppy now, his soft whines turning into primal, teeth gritting grunts.

“Tired a hearin’ you talk girl, yer mouth’s better at this anyway,” you looked up at his crooked smile, drool gathering at the corners of your mouth.

“Now…fuck — let’s try this again. I bet yer soaked just from havin’ my cock in yer mouth, ain’t that right?”

Arthur pulled out quickly to let you respond — and to catch your breath.

“Yes,” you mewled and panted, unable to stifle your dizzying lust. “I’m so goddamn wet right now.”

Arthur laughed smugly as he fished for something in his pocket, “that’s what I thought.” Revealing the cell keys he let himself in and closed the door behind him.

Still tied to the bars, Arthur circled around you slowly as his eyes traveled along every inch of you. For the first time you truly did feel like a rabbit caught in a trap.

“Can ya stand?”

Your replied nervously, “I think so…”

“Then do it…” His snarl was dark and harsh and sent a shockwave straight to your core.

He felt dangerous and you felt cornered.

Gently pulling yourself upright Arthur allowed you to test the waters. Putting pressure on your ankle, you found that the pain was a quiet whisper compared to the aching arousal between your legs.

He approached slowly, boots thudding next to you as the scent of leather and tobacco was carried with it. He opened the front of your dress forcefully to slip a hand inside, squeezing and massaging your breast with his cock twitching at your side.

“Can’t let an opportunity like this pass me up can I?” His pulling and pinching of the pert peak made your hips roll at the air.

Moving behind you, Arthur placed his hands on your hips and rutted his hardness against the soft fabric over your backside with shallow breaths.

You spoke in a breathy plead, “haven’t I given you enough yet Morgan?”

“Hardly. You think that pretty little mouth a yers was all I wanted?”

Pressing himself tight against you he dragged the flat of his hand along your mound possessively. “I deserve this tight cunt too don’t I?”

He tilted your head backward against his chest to look up at him, his other fingers tightening along your slit — pressing into the soaked undergarments. “Don’t I?”

You nodded with a lick of your lips, not wanting to say it out loud but left helpless to his appetite.

The outlaw brought his lips close enough to your ear that you felt the scratch of his stubble as he spoke, “good girl.”

Bending you forward, Arthur made your lower half bare to him, wetness glistening invitingly. Without warning he entered you with three of his sizable fingers, immediately motioning inside of you.

“So fuckin’ wet for me girl, thought you didn’t want this huh?”

All you could muster was a weak moan, focusing instead on the ebb and flow already increasing in your abdomen, the lewd sound of Arthur working your walls, the absolute debauchery and how good it made you feel.

“Got nothin’ to say now do ya? If you wanna come I better hear it.”

Arthur suddenly removed his fingers, leaving you desperate at the sudden hollowness.

The digits instead roughly penetrated your mouth, making you suck them clean of your juices. “Taste that? That’s what I do to ya girl, may as well jus’ admit it.”

“Now…beg for it.” he asserted harshly as you whined around his fingers. The palm of his other hand collided with your ass, leaving a hot sting. “Ain’t playin’ girl. Beg. Or I’ll take what’s mine and go.”

And this is what you wanted. For Arthur to tell you off and take you, to make you beg and turn you into jelly. The shame was merely an afterthought now that your carnal body had taken over.

“Please Arthur,” you swayed your ass and rolled your hips. “Please — let me come.”

Another playful slap landed on your backside as he stuffed his fingers inside of you once more, “yer lucky yer so goddamn gorgeous.”

You felt his other hand move to your sensitive bud, rolling in circles as he fingered you. “C’mon now, lemme feel how bad you want it.”

Obscene noise and filthy words filled the cell and ushered in your peak, waves of fluttering giving way to squeezing pulses around Arthur’s fingers.

Crying out your body fell forward, shaking and spent.

Giving you no time to recover, Arthur spread your swollen and sensitive lips as he entered you, flush with your ass and twitching in your core, a relieved groan escaped his lungs.

“Fuck…Arthur!”

“You can take it sweetheart…you can take it.”

As wet as you were — and as wet as he always made you; there was still a sweet sting as you adjusted to his girth. But Arthur was not patient today.

His iron grip on your waist was the only thing keeping you from collapsing as he pistoned in and out of you, pushing the air from your lungs with each thrust.

“Someone,” you fought through the stuttered breaths, “stop — someone could come in!”

“Oh but you’d like that wouldn’t you?” Arthur pulled your hair and rode harder. “You’d like the whole town to see what a little whore y’are, ain’t that right?”

Arthur slowed his pace to a long, languid grinding. “Let ’em watch, then they’ll know yer all mine.”

His substantial hand travelled slow down your spine, almost lovingly. You had a feeling this wasn’t part of the act.

“No one else gets to touch you like this — take you like this.”

Your breath hitched in your chest at Arthur’s words, injured ankle faltering slightly. Taking notice he untied you from the cell bars and laid you face down, flat on the cot.

Now that you were more comfortable, his demeanor snapped back to dominance.

Arthur’s hands pawed roughly at your ass, fingernails digging in as he rutted against your dripping slit.

You couldn’t help but grind your mound against the thin mattress and ass along the bottom of his shaft, the time for feigning disinterest long gone.

“Give it to me,” you pleaded against the thin pillow, losing all composure.

Keeping your legs together Arthur once again entered you, the sting no lesser in this tight position. “Look atcha, ain’t even hidin’ that ya want it anymore.”

Arthur’s broad torso encompassed you as he hovered above your back, repeatedly slamming into your heat with hot, wanton breaths against your ear.

Pressed into the mattress you listened to Arthur’s breathing become ragged and felt his body stiffen, all signs that he was close.

In one swift movement he pulled out to flip you on your back, pinning your wrists above your head as he plunged back into you.

“Wanna look at that pretty face while I fill you up. You want it?”

You turned your head to the side, feeling your body flush with heat from the intimacy of his words — of his future actions.

“Yeah you do,” Arthur leaned into your neck, sucking and biting at the tender flesh above your collarbone.

You couldn’t help but grind against him as he bucked into you, much to his delight. “Such a dirty girl, knew you wanted it. Coulda just enjoyed it sooner if ya weren’t such a goddamn brat.”

Lacing your fingers through the honey locks pressed against his forehead in sweat, you tugged gently while dragging the nails of your other hand down his back.

Arthur winced with a proud smile, “gonna empty myself inside ya.” He paused with a bite of his lip and groan, “I’ll be drippin’ down yer thighs and all over that nice dress…”

You could feel his cock flexing inside your heat, talking himself into a frenzy with each passing second.

Falling on top of you as his climax took over, Arthur moved in for a heated kiss; the first since he walked through the door.

Pressing deep inside you his hips moved in shallow jerks while painting your walls. A single, honest groan released from his mouth into yours, turning into whimpering shudders as his tongue roamed.

Arthur laid his forehead on the pillow beside you with a quiet expletive as you both took a moment to catch your breath.

Stirring slowly you felt his calloused hands running down your calf and toward your ankle. “Y’okay?” He gently ran his thumb over the swollen skin, “I can go take care of that bastard, don’t give a damn if he’s the Sheriff.”

“I’m okay, handsome.”

“Good. Ya know, ya didn’t need to get yerself arrested to get me to uh,” he grinned with a chuckle, “well…fuck ya like this.”

Playfully slapping his chest you exclaimed, “you know I didn’t do this on purpose!”

“I dunno, yer a pretty wild woman. I wouldn’t put it past ya.”

“Shut up,” you teased.

Arthur was rough around the edges but you trusted him. After many mornings of trying to keep quiet in the tent, humid nights shared at the Flat Iron lakeside, sweating and entwined with praises and whispers; you couldn’t help your lust drunk confessions. Wanting excitement and thrill, to do things the other hadn’t done with anyone else.

“So was it…thrillin’ enough for ya then?”

“That and then some, cowboy.” You ran your hand across his bulky chest. “What’d you think?”

“That it’s the hottest — and craziest thing I ever done,” he laughed and squeezed your ass playfully. “And on that note we should get goin’ ’fore anyone comes back.”

As the two of you began making sure you were decent, you inquired, “won’t Sheriff Gray put it together that it was you who broke me out?”

“He’s drunk as Uncle on a Saturday night sweetheart, he won’t even remember I was here.”

Arthur paused as his tone grew stern, “really though, what were you thinkin’? You gotta be more careful.”

He was right, but his pension for being overprotective and pushy in these situations felt unnecessary after an injury and arrest. “Most of the gang’s been in jail or tights spots at least once, comes with the territory.”

He taunted, “maybe, but what if I ain’t around to rescue ya next time?”

“I could’ve broken out myself. Wouldn’t be hard to seduce a nervous old deputy anyway,” you winked.

“Ain’t funny.”

“Well quit givin’ me a hard time then.”

“Alright alright, let’s get ya outta here.” Arthur wrapped his arm around your waist as he ushered you through the back of the jail, supporting you through your slight limp.

Before he helped you up on his horse you planted a quick kiss to his cheek, “thank you, Arthur.”

He shrugged dismissively in response but the rosey tint forming on his face didn’t go unnoticed. “C’mon now, let’s get you home and get that leg better.”