#sweatpea x reader

[gothsoyl]

guys and gays I'm gonna make character bots on the weekends so if you have some ideas with agatha all along/yellowjackets/sweatpea/house of the dragon/the boys/scream characters (female only), feel free to request

you can also take a look at bots I already have on janitort/cai (user gothsoyl)

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

When Are You Gonna Come Down

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Aftercare; implied rough sex, but no sex is shown; implied lack of previous aftercare; nonsexual nudity; fluff; not beta-read

Summary: "Let's get you cleaned up," He urges against your skin. "C'mon."

You hesitate before you nod, scooching toward the edge of the bed. Bradley gets up with you, taking hold of your hand and guiding you down the hall. You follow, blinking a little blearily.

You're usually in your car by now. You're usually pulling over to take a deep breath, to calm yourself down, to settle.

"Slow down."

"I'm fine."

"Just hang on—"

You don't heed his order, already sitting up—and nearly falling back as your head spins. Your gut swoops with panic as you brace your hands on the bed, sucking in a nervous breath.

"Holy crap," You mumble.

"I told you." He's chuckling, but it isn't a mean sound. Bradley scoots closer to you, gathering you back against his chest and easing you to lay down. You sag back against him, head still throbbing as stars crowd your eyes.

"You always in such a hurry afterward?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," You grumble.

"I would, for next time. May tie you down, head it off at the pass."

"I'd like to see you try."

"I'm in the Navy, sweatpea. I can tie a mean knot."

You can't help but smile a little as he gently smooths beads of sweat back from your forehead, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"You alright?" He asks. "You want something to eat or drink?"

"I should go."

"Wait a little bit." His hand slides down, smoothing down the slope of your shoulder. "Just...Come down properly, huh? I'm not gonna send you out all wired."

"I'm used to it."

It falls out of your mouth, and it's chased by harrowing silence. His fingers never waiver in their tender stroking of your skin.

"You shouldn't be," He finally murmurs. "You shouldn't split so fast."

"It's normal."

"It's not right."

"I can handle it."

"...I don't mean to be rude," He hedges, "But you just tried to get off of my bed and nearly dropped back down immediately."

"I'm just a little lightheaded."

"I know. I was rough."

"I wasn't complaining."

"I know." He leans into it. You can't see his eye roll, but you can hear it. You open your mouth to argue again, but he lowers his head, dotting your neck with tender kisses. You let your eyes slide closed, feeling yourself become putty in his arms. He carefully props the two of you up after a few minutes. You draw in a nervous breath, waiting for your head to spin, for the room to tip sideways…But it never comes.

"Feelin' alright?" He murmurs.

"Mhm."

"Let's get you cleaned up," He urges against your skin. "C'mon."

You hesitate before you nod, scooching toward the edge of the bed again. Bradley gets up with you, taking hold of your hand and guiding you down the hall. You follow, blinking a little blearily.

You're usually in your car by now. You're usually pulling over to take a deep breath, to calm yourself down, to settle. You follow Bradley into the bathroom, leaning against the counter as he starts the shower up. He glances at you now and again, seeming to want to check on you before he draws you takes you by the hand, leading you into the stall. You sigh at the feeling of the warm spray, tipping your head under the stream and feeling yourself relax further. Bradley curls up behind you, dropping kisses to your shoulders before he takes hold of the soap. It's a moment before you feel him smoothing your hands over your back. You brace your slightly-shaking arms against the tiled walls, relaxing as Bradley cleans your body reverently.

You reach for the soap, determined to do the same, but—

"Nn-nn," He hums, smoothing his hands along your arms until he's intertwining your fingers. "This is about you."

It makes you shiver. The brush of his lips, and his steady, sweat insistence.

"You took me so well, you know that?" He murmurs against the shell of your ear. "So fucking sweet, baby. You felt so fucking good."

The praise melts over you like warm butter. You whimper softly, fingers against his.

"Took care of me, just like I needed," He adds, giving your hands a squeeze. "Now it's my turn to take care of you."

--

You think that it'll end at the shower—that Bradley will shove some clothes at you and nudge you out to your car with a kiss. But there you are, sitting at the counter, wearing your underwear and one of his old t-shirts, and chowing down on the best damn grilled cheese you've ever had. Before you can completely finish the first one, Bradley's tipping another one onto your plate. You glance up guiltily, but he just smiles, turning back to the stove.

"You can have it," You offer.

"Nu-uh," He waves you off. "That's yours. I'll make another one."

"...You don't have to be this nice, you know."

"This isn't a have to, this is a want to. Although," He glances at you over his shoulder, "If you're that used to taking it and no one taking care of you afterward, that's not okay."

"I don't do it a lot," You shrug, "But when I do, it's just, like...I don't know. It's quick. I don't think about it."

"That why you're so used to running?"

"I guess."

Bradley glances back toward you, and you hurriedly look down, taking up the grilled cheese and stuffing a bite into your mouth.

"Does running feel good?"

"...Not really," You mumble around the food.

"Then don't run next time."

"I didn't run this time."

"You tried to."

He's got you there. You raise your thumb, sucking a few crumbs and melted butter off before you glance at Bradley again. You find him watching you with gentle curiosity.

"...I'll let up once you finish that," He nods to the grilled cheese and the glass of water beside your plate. You consider, looking down at the plate and poking a few crumbs.

"Is it okay if I sleep here?" You ask.

You don't dare meet his eye. You hear turn the stove off, and the sound is chased by the steady padding of his feet. You feel the heat of him at your side, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him place a hand against the counter.

And then—he presses a tender kiss to your cheek. Your eyes slip shut, lips pulling with a smile as he murmurs,

"More than okay with it, sweetpea."

"You're a real romantic, Bradshaw. And you know what," You hold up the rest of the sandwich. "This grilled cheese isn't half-bad."

[fic-finders]

do you have any mob/biker bucky recs?

Lost fics~~Found fics

Fic Recs

(P.S. I could have sworn that I have read more biker!bucky fics but I guess not.)

Biker Bucky Barnes:

ONE SHOTS: 

Don’t Touch What’s Mine by @myfictionaldreams

Call by @thegirlnextdoorssister 

The Bogeyman and Other Monstrosities by @pellucid-constellations

Reconsider by @bxcketbarnes

Best Friends? Nah by @wicked-mind

SERIES:

 Sweatpea by @metalbuckaroo

For the Best by @metalbuckaroo

Biker Bar by @bxcketbarnes

Delicate Edges by @wkemeup

Mob/Mafia Bucky Barnes

ONE SHOTS:

Six Months by @metalbuckaroo

Checking In by @metalbuckaroo

Saturday by @metalbuckaroo

Anniversary by @metalbuckaroo

Kerosene by @metalbuckaroo

As You Stood There by @moodybluemoon

Dance With Me by @youlightmeupfinn

SERIES:

Bucky and Fairy by @kinanabinks

Caught in the Fire by @dreamwritesimagines

No More Running by @scandinavianfairytale

Honey, There’s No Right Way by @bonky-n-steeb

Deception by @avecra

Rose and Thorn by @metalbuckaroo

Masterlist(s):

Mafia/Biker masterlist by @angrythingstarlight

Star’s Mafia/Biker masterlist has multiple characters, one shots, and series. Her Mob!bucky series are The Only Exception, Lost Without You, Run All You Want, and there are some stucky x reader fics as well. Her biker!Bucky series is The Beefy Biker Series (which is my favorite) as well as some unrelated fics and drabbles. 

[vintagxmisxry]

Stupid Old Car

Title: Stupid Old Car

Square Filled: Mechanic!Dean:

Ship: Dean x Reader, background Sam x Jess

Summary: Broadway star (y/n) tries running away from New York for her birthday to get away from an ex. She gets more than she bargained for when her car breaks down and she meets a cute mechanic.

Rating: General, I’d say

Warnings: just fluff, honestly. Mentions of a stalker ex-boyfriend and shirtless Dean. No Beta for this, all mistakes are mine. 

written for @spnaubingo   and a super late birthday gift for @thatfangurltho

You groaned loudly as your car slowly sputtered to a stop. “Please no,” you whined, hitting the steering wheel. Tears started to pool in your eyes as a tightness settled over your chest. This was great. Not only did you have to leave your apartment on your birthday and had nowhere to go, but now your car was dead and you were stranded in the middle of nowhere. You got out of the car, having decided it was too hot to stay inside. Just as you did so, you noticed that a dusty, red pick up truck pulled up beside you. The tightness increased, and you struggled to keep the tears at bay. This was it. You could see the headlines, “Broadway Star found dead in a basement” or “Tragic Death of Broadway Star, (y/n)”. Except instead of an old, greasy man wearing flannel and holding a shotgun while driving, you noticed an admittedly hot man about your age, he was wearing a clean, crisp suit, his long hair combed neatly. He rolled down the window of the passenger side, while he reached into his wallet and pulled out a card. He reached over, showing the ID 

“Sam Winchester, attorney. Do you need help?” The man asked, giving you a gentle smile. You couldn’t help but notice the shiny wedding band. He seemed genuinely concerned, which didn’t help with the waterworks. “I uh...no, my car broke down…” You reply, still keeping a distance but a part of you felt at ease. If he was going to murder you why would he show his ID? “Okay, I know a really good mechanic, I can call him, he lives a mile or two up ahead, I can drop you off in town too or...well, I can’t stay here with you.” “I’ll go with you,” you replied, stepping towards the car. “I’m (y/n),” you opened the car door and instantly felt it was a lot cooler than out in the midday sun. Sam rolled up the window and gave you a reassuring smile before turning back to the road. “I will warn you, my brother is a huge flirt,” Sam said, eyes still on the road. You frowned a little “Your brother?” “The Mechanic. He’s amazing with cars and likes to think he is with women as well,” You couldn’t help but laugh “Noted, thanks.” ~ The town was small and looked cozy, nothing like what you were used to, having come from Houston and now were now residing. A couple of people waved at the two of you as they passed “Well, I didn’t know you were popular,” You remarked, feeling some people’s stare on you and not in the same way people would stare at you in New York. Instead of awe, you saw confusion, sometimes even hate. “I’m the only good attorney around here. Dean, my brother, he likes to say I’m the town’s golden boy,” Sam shook his head “though, who knows. I have been the only one to leave and come back with an Ivy League education.” You couldn’t help but stare at him. Of course, he went to Harvard or Yale or wherever else. He parked the car as you wondered how much money had been invested in his education. You had done some investing as well and still were. New York wasn’t necessarily cheap. Sam had parked the truck and gotten out when you got to the auto mechanic and salvage yard. A hot, shirtless blond walked out, all smirks and swagger. A part of you wanted to roll your eyes but you couldn’t help but blush as he sent you a wink. Sam was wrong, Dean was good with ladies. The brothers talked for a bit then Sam handed Dean the keys to the car. You frown and watch him disappear into the garage. You watched, confused, as Dean made his way over, still smirking. “I’m Dean, I’m sure my brother talked about me. Whatever he said, he’s wrong” Dean said smoothly, turning on the truck, wondering how he could have been so right.  “So you broke down a mile from the town entrance, right?” “Something like that” You replied, cheeks still flushed. You avoided looking at him and his obvious six-pack and chiseled jaw. “Alright, my uncle is going to follow us with the tow, just tell me if we’re near” You nodded but still didn’t look at him, glad that he turned on the radio. You couldn’t help but smile a little as he raised the volume, as you too believed that music had to be played loudly. His taste in music wasn’t like yours but you were glad for the distraction. “So what’s a pretty lady like you doing out in the middle of nowhere?” Dean asked once you were out of town. “Uh, well, one of my exes is in town...I want nothing to do with him but he...it’s a long story. It’s my birthday and I didn’t want to deal with that,” You finish with a nod, the blush that never really quite left your cheeks made its way back. You kind of felt stupid. Who left an entire town for one person? “Well, if I was him I’d hunt you down too,” He said, turning to look at you and giving you a smile, he was obviously joking. Right? Yeah, you had amazing charisma on stage and were a fairly good singer, though everyone always insisted you were amazing, there was no way he knew that. Besides, you weren’t exactly the fit preppy kind, the kind of girl Dean obviously went for.  “Did you have any plans?” his voice cut through your thoughts The feeling of stupidity settled back in. No, you didn’t have plans. What were you doing out here? “That’s my car” You point out, deciding to avoid the question. Dean pulled over and turned off the car “I’m going to help my uncle, then I’ll be back and we’ll get it checked out. Alright?” You nodded and watched as he did so. His uncle definitely didn’t look like him, and he didn’t seem to resemble Sam either which gave you something to think about. Between the two men, it took almost no time for them to hook up the car. Dean came back and started the car. His conversation switched from asking you about what you were doing here, to just random things, the weather and such mostly. You were thankful he didn’t press for an answer to your plans. ~ “Bad news, sweetheart” Dean said, coming into the lobby where you had been waiting for hours. Your phone was dead and the sun had set. You frown as you watch him, shirtless and sweaty. Did he own no shirts? “The car needs a part we don’t have here, so you’ll have to stay the night,” You stare at him, not just because of his abs but because this couldn’t be happening. “No, no, no, no, I...I need to go home. I have nowhere to stay, and then I have-” You stopped, mid-ramble. Dean smiled knowingly at you “What?” “This town, my town, has the best bed and breakfast in all of America,” Dean replied, going behind the counter and grabbing a shirt, (so he did own one) “And my sister in law makes the best food in like, ever. I have to drop off Sammy’s disgusting truck and Jess invited me,” “Uh...but...that’s you...I couldn’t intrude…” you think about rehearsals again. No, you needed to head back. “I asked if I could bring a plus one,” He had pulled on his shirt by now as well as a flannel “and I may have mentioned a birthday,” “What?! Why would you do that?” You ask, completely embarrassed. How could he? “So, unless you’re going to let fine southern dining go to waste, we should get going,” Dean said You scoff, following hesitantly “We’re in Pennsylvania, we’re not technically in a southern state. Besides, I was raised on southern food” Dean gave you a look, kind of amused “Oh really?” You smiled at him “Yeah, Texas raised” “Well, Jess is a southern belle as well who can cook up meals and lemon cakes in no time at all. God, it’s so good” Dean replied, causing you to laugh and cave. It was only an hour drive. You could always get back in time.

   When you look back in life now, that was one of those defining moments. That dinner was the best birthday dinner you had ever had. These complete strangers had stopped their usual routine for you. An honest and sweet woman had spent her afternoon cooking and baking just for you and now every birthday was like that. You, your now-husband Dean, your sister Jess and brother Sam always got together on your birthday to celebrate you. Your parents and brothers were there too when they could be. Everything was perfect now, and you would always be glad that your ex was kind of a stalker. He guided you to the best man you had ever known and gave you a second family.

[rainteez02]

hug me.

pairing: gn!reader x boyfriend!seonghwa

genre: fluff, angst

warnings: crying, stress, reader hates their job

word count: 479

summary: After a rough day at work your boyfriend Seonghwa finds you in your shared bedroom completely discouraged, but it’s nothing that he can’t fix.

writer comments: extremely impulsive and self-indulgent, I hope you enjoy this cute little scene, I enjoyed writing it.

In no way do I claim to know or believe that any of the Ateez members act this way. All the names used besides Ateez are from my imagination.

This writing is property of the author, please do not translate or reuse or take credit for my work.

“Baby what’s wrong?”

Rolling over onto your side you pouted, the whimpers continuing as you meet Seonghwa’s worried gaze, head tilted in concern.

“I’m j-just stressed out... it’s fine Hwa” you mumbled to him, his gaze immediately softening even more as he pulled you towards him, running his hands gently up and down your back.

“No sweatpea, don’t say that. Being stressed isn’t good. I’m here to help you.” Seonghwa mumbled into your hair, pressing gentle kisses against your forehead and cheeks as you let your tears fall.

“I-it’s so hard… they want so much from me, and the work is s-so stressful. I don’t know if I can stay at this job. They treat me like trash Hwa. T-they hate me...”

Sobbing into his chest, you released all your feelings of the past month into your poor boyfriend’s chest. You were well-aware that he shouldn’t have to hear you cry like this over your job. But he made you feel safe. You couldn’t help but let yourself break down.

“Shh, it’s okay now, we’ll deal with it together, okay? They’re not important love. I promise they aren’t important.” He whispered softly to you, pulling back to peer at your face. “Okay? I want you to say it with me, they’re not important.” He said, nodding his head to repeat his words.

“T-they’re not I-important...” you stuttered out, the stress slightly lessening much to your surprise.

“Good job baby, now I’m going to get you a glass of water, okay? Hold on.” He started, moving to get up but a tight grip around his hand stopped him.

Turning around to look at you he chuckled and squeezed your hand. “What is it baby?” He asked at the shy look on your face.

“D-don’t leave... j-just stay here and... hug me. That’s all I want” you slowly whispered, looking up at him with a pout.

A small laugh left him at your words accompanied by a nod. Sitting down on your shared bed against the headboard, he pulled you into his lap, pulling you gently into his chest as he rests his head on top of yours.

“How’s this for you precious? Or were there specifics to this deal?” He asked, a deep chuckle rumbling through your body as he noticed the pout returning to your face.

“I’m only joking sweetpea don’t get all pouty on me now, we almost had you back to my smiley baby.” Seonghwa said, mirroring the pout on your face with one that rivalled and surpassed yours.

With a loud sigh that had your boyfriend laughing once again, you laid your head on his shoulder, a yawn leaving you. The smile on Seonghwa’s face never faltered as he adjusted, rubbing your back with one arm as the other held you tightly against him.

“Goodnight sweetpea”

And with those words, you fell into a peaceful sleep.

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

@yxnkigi

[mxchellesworld]

Attraction and Repulsion 

Harry Styles x Reader

Synopsis; Where Harry is too much of an asshole for a proper relationship but too good in bed for you to leave 

Warnings; mean!harry, arguments, name calling, smut, unprotected sex, creampies, degradation, impact play, choking, 

a/n; harry styles fans come get yall juice!! ok i wont lie this kinda seems all over the place but i like it anyways. hope yall enjoy and please send some feedback:)

***

You thought it was real funny. It was absolutely hilarious how the whole world saw Harry as a sweet lad who wears big trousers and has fun nails. But you saw him for who he really was. Harry Styles was mean. Plain and simple. 

But you loved it. 

And as much as you tried to deny it, you both knew it was true. You were like magnets. When you weren’t absolutely repulsed by one another, starting an argument, you were wrapped up in each others sheets feeling the strongest attraction you’d ever felt for another person. 

You were always stuck in a limbo of back and forth. Arguments and name calling over the phone leading to quick hang ups and the eventual knock on the door signaling he was there to deal with you the only way he knew how to put you in your place. 

You were drawn to him like a moth to flame. And just like you, he was also too stubborn to admit that he’d want anyone else but you. No matter how cocky he got flaunting the fact that he could get any person in the world with just a smile and wink, he knew he’d never actually do it. 

Under all the petty acts and insults there was the smallest bit of adoration he held for you and you only. 

_ 

You had been lounging around your apartment when your phone chimed. It was one of your girlfriends sending you a link to a newspaper article. You hadn’t bothered to look at the title on the message before clicking on it and seeing the large cover photo on your screen. 

Right there Harry and some model getting cozy after his last show. Big bold letters on the teen magazine reading ‘HARRY STYLES AND NEW BAE???’. You audibly scoffed. 

It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend so you couldn’t really do much about it, you thought ignoring the small sting in your chest. Shaking off the feeling you skimmed the rest of the article then replied to the message, “she is kinda hot, maybe he’ll give me her number lol” 

With that you threw your phone on the other side of the couch and started to get up. It was 3pm a little too early in your book to start drinking at home and especially too early to start letting him ruin your day. 

Maybe it was time to start looking at other people. You were hot and single, living in a big city with other hot singles, it shouldn’t be too hard for you to find someone to get in a stable relationship with or at the bare minimum a good fuck for the night. 

So you did what anyone else does and picked up your phone once again, going straight to the app store. Right on the front page was tinder and just for good measure you added bumble. Making the accounts were easy enough but selecting the pictures for your profile was tricky. You wanted a good amount of selfies and body shots. Cute pictures but also something risky enough to catch the eye. 

Soon enough you were already swiping and giggling to yourself about the future prospects you had lined up. Meanwhile in a city about a few hundred miles from you Harry was sitting with a frown on his scowl on his face in the same predicament you were in earlier that day. 

He was in his hotel room packing up and getting ready to head back home when his phone chimed. He looked over to see if it was his manager or someone from crew with any updates on departure times however it was one of his close friends. 

At first he was expecting a sports update or an invitation to go to a bar when he got back but instead it was a screenshot of your tinder profile. When had you gotten that? he thought to himself. 

It wasn’t like he could get mad since he knew he didn’t treat you the best. But that was just your dynamic, deep down you both cared for each other and even then it made for the best sex of his life. 

Looking back down at the glowing screen he swiped through the few screenshots he was sent. Various pictures of you out with friends. The one that got him was a picture of you in the bathtub, your body was covered by the porcelain yet just enough of your chest just was showing in the mirror as you gave the camera your best sultry look. 

Yet the real kicker was the bio where you included him in your top artists. He scoffed and shook his head, biting his lip as he clicked out from the messages app. Instead he called up his manager to get him on the fastest plane back home. If the blood wasn’t rushing to his face he knew he’d be hard as a rock but for now he’d save that frustration for when he saw you. 

_

You knew tinder hookups were easy to get but you didn’t know just how easy. After spending the day scrolling away, putting your phone down for food and subtle chores you landed a ‘date’, which you really knew was ‘lets get tacos before we fuck on my couch’. 

You had planned to meet at 8pm at some restaurant by your house. At 6:30 you started to get ready slowly, taking your time in the shower, shaving, the works. You had your music connected to a speaker getting yourself excited for the night. 

Who wouldn’t be? You needed this. This was your time to get all dolled up and get to cum from someone other than yourself or the man who makes the vein in your forehead pop when you think about him. 

You put on your sweet smelling lotion and head to your closet looking for an outfit. It was starting to get warm so you settled for a black t-shirt dress that fell to mid thigh with tan heeled booties. You pulled out a jean jacket to put on top in case it was windy.

After finishing your hair and makeup, it was nearing 7:30 and you were back on your couch fixing up the pillows and picking up any misplaced items in case the night led you back to your place. Suddenly you heard a knock on your door, the same hard 3 rasps which only meant one person. 

Your heels clicked on the hard wood as you made your way to the door, unlocking it and opening it halfway, “What do you want Harold,” you said unamused. 

“You look pretty,” he said pushing past you, ignoring the annoyance in your tone. 

“Wish I could say the same about you. Now what do you want? I’m busy and I have to leave soon,” you said rolling your eyes. 

He took a seat on your previously neat couch, spreading his legs and putting his arms up on the back. The way he looked you up and down sent chills up your spine, “What did you get a date that quick? The internet works wonders doesn’t it love”, he said rolling his neck. 

“How did you know abo- actually I don’t care. As a matter of fact I do have a date and I’m meeting him soon so if you don’t mind leaving,” you said picking up your jacket and purse, “Why don’t you call that one girl from your show? She probably misses you.” 

He let out a short laugh before pushed on his knees to stand back up, “Ah I see what this is. You’re jealous and you think going on a little date with some nobody would hurt me.” The cockiness was just seeping out of him. 

“Pull your head out of your a-,” you started before he cut you off. 

“No no you’re gonna listen to me angel. We may not be together but you belong to me. No one else can ever touch you or fuck you as well as I can,” he said leaning in to whisper in your ear. 

It was almost sad how easily he could have you crumbling. Just then your phone dinged. It was a message from the guy, Danny? You couldn’t remember at this point. 

“Answer it sweatpea, tell him you can’t make it.” 

You were really debating it. On one side this could be your chance to finally tell Harry to fuck off but on the other you knew it would be hard to replace him and you weren’t even sure you completely wanted to. That was a whole other layer of emotions to dig through. 

You looked back up at Harry, one of his curls falling into his eyes which were filled with lust. The way his tongue peeked out to slip over his pink lips gave you the answer you needed. 

“Fuck,” you whispered unlocking your phone. Quickly you typed out a half ass apology about your sister needing you to babysit, even though she lived out of state, he didn’t need to know. 

After you hit send your phone was quickly plucked from your grasp and pushed into Harry’s pocket. You didn’t think much about it when his lips pressing onto yours was acting as a great distraction. 

He pulled away lightly mumbling a “taste like strawberries”. If you weren’t so turned on you would’ve giggled. 

You moaned into his mouth pulling him by his loose button up shirt into your bedroom. It was a routine you had almost perfected at this point with little stumbling or need to grab onto the walls as a guide to make sure neither of you hit any corners. 

Your lips never left each others in the feverish mess of kisses. Each one making you grow needier and needier. Your fingers worked quickly in trying to get the buttons on his shirt undone. You felt his warm ones wrap around yours halting your movements. 

“Not so fast, you think I’m gonna let you off easy for what you did today?” 

You huffed out, “You did the same-”, again he cut you off. 

“I get to do whatever I want because you know who I am,” he finished trailing his thumb over your bottom lip, slowly tugging it down. All you could do was nod. 

“Say it then.” 

“Harry Styles,” you whispered out. 

You could see his pupils get bigger with each syllable. It was his favorite thing, the power, the dominance. He got off on his own name. But so did you, the thought alone made you clench your thighs as you were in the moment. 

His hand came up and tapped on your cheek, a small implication of what you knew he could do, “You’re gonna have to be louder than that lovie. Don’t worry though I’ll let you try again later.”

He backed you up until your legs hit the bed, pushing you down. You slowly crawled back, pulling your jacket and dress off as he worked on his belt and pants. You made quick work of kicking off your boots and settled into the plush sheets. 

“Hurry up Styles. I think Danny could’ve made me cum at least twice now,” you said sliding a hand down to your panties. That move would bite you in the ass but the risk was worth it. 

You let out gasps at the touch of your fingertips, moving your hips, doing anything to put on a show and hopefully have him give you what you wanted quicker. 

He eagerly got on the bed, trapping you under his knees. His hands quickly ripped yours away from where you needed them most, pinning them over your head. He leaned down, face inches from yours until you shared the same breathe. 

“You just want to be punished don’t you? Don’t worry I’ll help you get it through that stupid little slutty brain of yours,” he finished with a sadistic smile. 

You nodded frantically moaning out pleases. His hand came down on your cheek, the chill of his rings pressed against the now warm skin on your face. His nails raked down until his hand was snuggly hugging your neck. 

You tilted your head back giving him more room to squeeze and mark as he pleased, “Please Harry, want you to fuck me already.” 

He tutted his lips giving your neck one last squeeze before he pulled away. “I think we should work on your patience,” he said moving down to your spread legs. 

His warm hands pulled on the lace fabric on your hips, scoffing at the visible wet patch, “Don’t tell me this was all for old Danny-boy.” 

“No Harry its all for you,” you mewled as he let his fingers swipe through your folds. It was evil how he was leisurely propped up between your legs teasingly circling your aching bud, switching between blowing on it and nipping at it. 

You already felt the tears springing in the corners of your eyes. So little was doing so much. Just a little more and you could cum right then and there. And he knew it too. 

“Oh you better not cum. I’m not gonna be very forgiving if you do,” he trailed off almost laughing. He never let up, quick circles on your bud making your body tense up. 

“Ple- no.. oh god Harry,” you whined out. You felt your juices gushing out of you as you reached your peak. He never let up on his motions, going even faster on your overstimulated clit. 

“God you’re so pathetic. Such a whore you just had to cum,” he punctuated with a slap right on your pussy. 

At this point you were sobbing. Your head was swimming in the pleasure. You tried to apologize but the words weren’t coming together, just broken whimpers and mixes of sorry’s. 

His hand came down on your sensitive cunt two more times, each one had you trying to close your legs but he was quick to keep them open with a bruising grip. 

“Please.. Harry.”

“Please what?” he said taking in your shivering frame.

“Please fuck me! Want you to cum inside me, mark me so everyone knows i’m yours!” you spoke out breathlessly.

Quickly he flipped your over, pulling your hips up so that your pussy was on display for him. He groaned as he swiped the tip of his weeping pink cock over your already puffy folds.

With a long stroke he filled you completely. Your nerves were on fire and he hadn’t even started. His rough hands grabbed onto your hips for leverage on his thrusts.

“Fuck you’re so tight. Such a good little whore just for me to ruin,” he gritted out. He kept a steady pace, quick and deep making sure to hit your sweet spot each time.

Your nails were digging into the pillows for dear life. Eyes shut closed as your mouth fell in silent screams and jumbled phrases of pleasure. The only thing on your mind was HarryHarryHarry.

“Wanna cum again.. oh my god.. Plesse Harry fill me up! I need to feel it,” you said arching your back further. You felt each vein slide along your spongy walls making sure to clench around him and milk him for all he was worth.

His grip on your never let up. He let his hand come down on your ass cheek. Once again the rings contrasting the heat radiating off of you, “That’s it cum for me baby. I want you to scream my name when you do. Can you do that love? Shit , tell me who fucks you this good? Who’s cum do you want spilling inside you?”

You all but screamed a “Harry Styles” letting your neighbors know just who was with you that night, nights before, and nights to come.

The sweet noises and screams of his name had Harry’s cock pulsing inside you, ready to burst at any moment.

One look down at where you connected and he was sent right to heaven. Your cute little pussy creaming right on his cock had him shooting his load deep inside you.

You both gasped and groaned at the feeling of him filling you to the brim. He stilled his motions and you all but collapsed onto your bed.

You felt him lean down once again, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear before whispering, “You think Danny could’ve done that?”

[honorary-grunkle-smoocher]

The Shimmy’s A Sham! | Stan X Reader |

//You can probably tell but this was inspired by that one scene in the grunkle dating sim... you know which one lmaoo//

//Tw alcohol consumtion//

Greasy’s is thumping with the heavy beat of 80s disco music, and even with the fruity, fizzy glass of gin you’re nursing and your eyes scanning over a primarily senior crowd, you catch yourself wondering why you’re still here. Sure, the drinks are cheap, especially so with the special discount on tonight, but you don’t feel as lively or as young (despite your age) as ad had promised.  

But then there’s a sudden hubbub of activity near the entrance of the run-down diner turned nightclub, and you can’t help further indulge in your people-watching hobbies. There are two older people, a man and a woman, both of whom you recognise. Lazy Susan, with her one faulty eyelid, looking all dressed up and buzzing with detached excitement. You could have sworn she’d been at the bar only a second ago, serving up drinks and chatting with all the patrons she knew well.

And then there’s the man; he’s dressed for Vegas, his bellbottoms subtle, but noticeable, and the gold buckle on his belt shining, even from here. His suit jacket is hanging open casually, showing off a lazily buttoned dress shirt. You can’t quite pin where you’ve seen his face before, his jaw sharp, his nose defined, with his age showing ruggedly in his skin, but you know you’d never forget a face like his.

It takes a second for you to realise you’re staring, and another to realise that he’s staring right back, and you only then notice how out of place he looks next to Lazy Susan. He doesn’t look uncomfortable, per se, but his disinterest in anything more than friendship with her seems to make him drift over to you, all the way across the diner. Reaching you, he says a few quick, quiet words to the other waitress on duty, and takes the seat next to yours with a sigh. The awkward tension is obvious immediately.

“So er, you come here often?”

You can’t help but burst out with laughter. It’s so painfully cliché of him that you press your forehead to the bar top with a chuckled groan.

“Did you really just say that to me?” you ask, bewildered and with one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, it usually works, you must be broken,” he jokes, giving the waitress a quiet thanks as she hands him his drink. “Let me start again, yeah? I’m Stan Pines.”

It suddenly hits you where you’ve seen him before. That weird little shop that you visited out in the woods with bullshit, glued-together amalgamations of horror – he was the owner. He seems to realise that you’ve clocked onto him, and a grin spreads across his cheeks.

“Yeah, don’t go swoonin’, I’m only a genius businessman,” Stan jokes, “what’s your name, sweatpea?”

“Oh, trust me, I won’t go ‘swoonin’’,” you playfully mimic him, “you robbed me of twenty dollars. And I’m (Name), sorry.”

He lets out a chuckle, insisting that it’s your own fault for being tricked by anything that makes you pay at the door with a no refunds sign on it. He’s got you there, you can’t lie.

“So, what brings you over to my gloomy little corner of the bar?” you ask finally, taking another slow sip from your drink.

The older man seems flustered all of a sudden, glancing back to where Lazy Susan is waiting patiently with a group of other women. He hesitates, tapping his large fingers against his empty glass.

“Well, I uh... I’ll be honest, I kind of just wanted to get away from Lazy Susan,” he admits, almost guiltily, “don’t get me wrong, she’s a great friend but I’m not exactly into how clingy she is already so...”

There’s silence as you wait for him to continue, though he looks like he’s struggling to put it all into words.

“Well, you looked just as bored as I thought I’d end up being, and I was hopin’ if I sidled up and danced with someone else, even if it wasn’t real, she’d take a hint, y’know?”

It takes a moment for you to realise you’re his hamster for this experiment, but hey? You aren’t doing anything, so why not go along with his weird, convoluted plan? You groan with a smile, realising how awkward he really is, despite the confidence he radiates.

“So, like, what do you want me to do?” you ask, before knocking back the rest of your gin, watching him with one eye squinted.

“Just... pretend to be my date, sweetpea, one dance should do it. It’ll be easy, I’m a great dancer,” he says, confidence regained. You shake your head with a laugh, hesitating as you tell him you’re not one for dancing. It falls on deaf ears, however, as he gets up from the barstool, offers you his hand and leads you into the dancefloor, a slower song fading in.

Suddenly Stan’s hands are at your waist, pulling you in close so your chest is pressed to his. That easy, tipsy grin is back on his lips, his eyes sparkling as you begin to sway to the soft beat and light piano of the music, hands resting on his broad shoulders.

“I think you were lyin’, sweetpea,” he chuckles into your ear, one hand moving down from your waist to the curve of your hip.

“Oh yeah? What about?”

“You can dance, look at you,” punctuating his observation by spinning you seamlessly, watching the iridescent blur of lights sink into your skin. You bloom in the gentle watercolours of red, green and purple, the spinning disco ball reflecting sharp rays perfectly against the angles of your face, and Stan feels his heart skip a beat inside his chest, thumping along to the music. Eyes open again and no longer slowly spinning, you laugh quietly. Everything feels so utterly perfect in this stranger’s strong hold, despite the slight wooziness of your vision.

The song fades away, and a more upbeat song begins to blare through the worn old speakers, and then Stan’s hands are slipping into yours, rough fingertips pushed against yours.

“How ‘bout we head back to the Shack, honey? A tour on the house,” he says with a wink, and you can’t help but snicker, resting your head against the lapels of his jacket as you mull it over.

Finally, with a charming, mischievous glint in your eyes, you reply with, “yeah sure, why not?”

[prettydove]

reblogs of fics

┉ˏ͛ ༝̩̩̥͙ ⑅͚˚　　 ҉　　⑅͚˚ ͛༝̩̩̥͙ ˎ┉

♡ j.potter - begin again - @stevies-mind

♡ r.black - regulus x short, curvy, hufflepuff - @witchyandstupid

♡ no one/platonic!r.lupin - reader is the only marauder left | pt. 2 - @modern-vellichor

♡ d.thomas - lupin law- @iamthecabbage

♡ j.potter - she- @spiritualchange

♡ druig - my girl - @loopy-lupinn

♡ h.potter - love letters - @loopy-lupinn

♡ r.black - on a balcony in summer air | r.b - @my-my-only-angel

♡ r.black - the emerald jersey - @applebutter-and-cinnamon

♡ p.pettigrew - breath sweatpea - @the-one-who-ships

[babbushka]

White Christmas

Clyde Logan x Reader ; 1.9k

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

Just like the ones I used to know

Where the treetops glisten and children listen

To hear sleigh bells in the snow

 You’re in the kitchen finishing up the very last decorations on the gingerbread house, when Sadie sighs. She’s been huffin’ and puffin’ all evening, much to your dismay. You had hoped that buildin’ the homemade house from scratch would be a fun activity to end off Christmas Eve, but your normally sunshiney niece was practically gloom and glum all night.

She reaches for the final perfect gumdrop, but you use your hand to block her, givin’ her a questioning look, wondering what in tarnation is going on in that mind of hers. Christmas was her favorite holiday, it always had been, and for the first time in years all the Logans had decided to celebrate together, everyone staying in the nice new house you and Clyde bought after the heist.

“Do you think it’ll come tonight?” Sadies finally chews her lip and asks, pouts with those big sad eyes of a child whose dream has been crushed.

Your heart aches, knowin’ what she means. You both glance out the window, to the decidedly un-snowy front yard. In the reflection of the glass, you can see the disappointment on her face, and your heart aches.

“I don’t know sweatpea, but I hope so.” You say, twisting her ponytail affectionately.

“We’ve had snow every year.” Sadie sighs again, plucking off one of the red and green M&M decorations on the roof of her house, popping it in her mouth and chewing noisily before sighing once again with a, “I hate global warming.”

“Me too, me too.” You give a sympathetic smile, pulling her into your arms for a little while, a nice reassuring hug. Before you let her go, you try to get her back in the spirit by whispering real quiet so only she can hear, “But instead of worrying about that for right now, why don’t you run up and get ready for bed, hm? Santa Claus can’t come if you’re not asleep by eight.”

That perks Sadie right up, and before you know it she’s bolting out of your arms with a glance at the clock, realizing it’s already seven-thirty.

“Shoot, you’re right!” She gasps, “Goodnight Uncle Clyde! G’night Aunt (Y/N)!” She gives you each a kiss on the cheek, you in the kitchen and your husband on the couch in the living room, before running into one of the guest bedrooms which she has claimed.

You chuckle fondly at the renewed excitement, and with the gingerbread houses finished, you grab a mug from the counter and fill it with icy cold ‘nog.

You hang in the doorway for a moment, simply admiring the view before you. Clyde is relaxed on the couch in his Christmas pajamas – something you purchased for the whole family so you could all match. He’s got his prosthetic off, put away somewhere in the master bedroom, and his hair is freshly washed and fluffy. From the angle he’s sitting at, all you can see is the strong contour of his profile, and you get the sudden urge to kiss his nose.

 I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

With every Christmas card I write

"May your days be merry and bright

And may all your Christmases be white"

 “Is that the news?” You ask, and he perks up at the sound of your voice, that permanent scowl of his fading away to something much more soft and sweet.

“Yep.” He says, forever a man of many words.

“Has the weather come on yet?” You ask hopefully, but he sighs in that very Logan way that they all do, and you already know the answer before he’s tellin’ you.

“Nope.” He tells you anyway. When he sees your eyes sadden, he reaches out to you, beckons you with his hand and a, “C’mere darlin’, sit with me?”

You sit on the armrest of the couch, and he wraps his arm around your waist. You lean your head on top of his and offer him the mug you brought, still nice and chilled from the frozen bowl you had poured it into just shy of an hour ago.

“Want some eggnog?” You offer, but he shakes his head, tears his gaze away from the news – still no weather – to look at you, smile at you.

“Not if you can’t have any.” He says, and you kiss him softly, just a chaste little something when you push it into his hand.

“There’s no brandy, I made it special so Sadie could have some too.” You explain and his whole face lights up at that, makin’ you chuckle and card your fingers through his hair gently as his huge mouth gulps down half the mug in one swig.  

“When d’ya think we can tell everyone?” He asks, throwing a glance to your stomach, and you can’t help but laugh at the cream that sticks to his moustache.

“Not for two more weeks, just to be safe.” You reply, and he nods in understanding.

You steal the mug back from him for just a moment, just long enough to catch a sip or two before letting him finish it off, and you lean your head back down on top of his, feeling safe and warm in his loving embrace as the low light from the TV flickers on and on, as the two of you wait for a forecast.

  The whole family has gone to sleep by the time you and Clyde decide to turn off all the lights and make your way upstairs.

With Jimmy across state lines to see his daughter more, the whole gang didn’t have much opportunity to get together all that often. You figured that if there were any time of the year to celebrate with your loved ones, it was Christmas, so you managed to convince Clyde to open up the house to his brother and sister, as well as some of your family and friends.

All in all, absolutely every one of the spare rooms was filled for a long weekend of all sorts of traditions. Sadie was so excited to see the new house, she ran around and around the place, gawkin’ and gaspin’ at the newness of it all.

You knew it shouldn’t make you feel so proud and petty, but well, compared to the kind of livin’ Bobby Jo had managed to secure for herself, you thought you did pretty damn good.

But Sadie was snoozin’ in her bed, as were everyone else. You thought about the poem, how Clyde had read it aloud to the whole group, his deep baritone the perfect pitch for the smooth rumblings about sugar plums and sleighs and tiny reindeer. You thought about how they were all dreamin’ themselves, the house so quiet as you both made the rounds to switch off the lights on the tree, blow out all the candles.

It’s only when you’re passing under the doorway to go into the kitchen and help Clyde put away the eggnog and gingerbread houses, that you see the little bundle of green that’s been taped up above your heads, your husband appearing just on the other side of the door.

“Would ya looky here,” He says shyly, always ever so shy your husband, shy as he smile and quirks a brow as he points up to the, “Mistletoe.”

“Now who put that there?” You wonder teasingly, softly, eyes already closing and leanin’ in, lips puckering.

“Someone smart.” Clyde whispers, arms coming around your waist, big warm hand splayed out on your back, pressing you close to him.

On the in the background Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye are singing in red velvet in front of a live audience, and you let your heart swell with the romance of it all.

 I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

Just like the ones I used to know

Where the treetops glisten and children listen

To hear sleigh bells in the snow

 After smoochin’ in the doorway, the two of you can barely keep your hands off of one another, and he walks you back back back against the kitchen counter. He’s so strong, sometimes you forget how strong he is, your husband, forget those special ops muscles. He’s eager, excited, his kisses more and more urgent as he maneuvers you so that he can stand between your legs as your breath puffs and pants against one another.

Y’all hadn’t had much opportunity for any sex, with the entire house packed with family, and you knew you couldn’t reasonably get away with anything in this moment, but it was still thrilling to try. He’s handsy, big warm palm sliding up your blouse and gropin’ grabbin’ pinchin’ at ya.

You only giggle and bite at his lips, bite at his big cheesin’ grin, that special smile only you ever get to see.

You lean back enough to just get a good look at him – and that’s when you notice it.

“Clyde!” You gasp softly, hopping off the counter and immediately moving to the living room once more.

“Hmm?” He frowns, concerned and following you hot on your tail, not seeing what you’re seeing.

But you see it, the soft white flurries that flutter down from the black of night. The porch-lights are on and you can catch bits and pieces of the fluff. Your first thought is of Sadie, how she’s going to get to wake up to a winter wonderland, get to wake up to snowmen and snow angels and maybe even a snowball fight.

But your second thought, is that you want to feel the snowflakes on your face, on your tongue, and even though it’s late, you turn to Clyde with a pleading, hopeful expression.

“Can we go outside?” You ask, your hands braced on his chest, practically unable to contain yourself.

He smiles and kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, until you’re laughin’ and coverin’ your mouth to try and keep quiet, so as to not wake up the rest of the family.

“Only if you’re warm enough darlin’, I don’t wantcha catchin’ cold.” He says softly, appraising you in your pajamas, wondering if he should stick you in ten more layers.

But then you’re grinning up at him, pulling him by the hand to stick your feet into slippers to protect from the chill of the snow that’s already starting to stick, and you toss him one of your beaming grins with a twinkle in your eye as you tell him, “I won’t be if you’re holdin’ me.”

 You don’t stay out long, just enough time to get the cool bite of the gentle breeze on your face, jack frost nipping at your nose, as they say. Clyde is right by your side, hand on your waist, walking around and around the yard with you in the dark, the only light coming from the strands of icicle lights that Jimmy had helped hang up, and the porch lamps.

It’s not much right now, but you just know that come morning, Sadie’s going to be laughing and shouting and wakin’ y’all up to come outside.

So for now, it’s enough that it’s here, enough that you can chuckle softly as you brush the snow out of Clyde’s hair.

 I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

With every Christmas card I write

"May your days be merry and bright

And may all your Christmases be white"

                                                       -----------

Tagging my Clyde lovin’ friends! <3  @autumnlovesadam @dreamboatdriver @fullofbees @adamsnackdriver @kyloxfem​ @formerly-anonhamster​ @kylo-renne​ @callmehopeless​ @magikevalynn​ @scheherazades-horcrux​ @whiskey-bumblebee​

[sparkles-and-trash]

Yay! Ok, responding to my previous question on polyamorous stuff, could you maybe do a fangs x sweatpea x reader? Like what it would be like? Love you and your blog!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Ahh yes, that’s totally my guilty pleasure ahah, I’ll have this one up by tonight! Thank you so much for the kind words ❤️

[welldonebeca]

Hi sweatpea! How are you? I just wanted to tell you that I loved your Hi, Momma series. I was wondering, do you plan on doing more Archangels x Mom!Reader works? Because I can't find more or as good as yours! But either way, I love your writing and send you much of love.

Hello you, sweetie! I’m really glad you liked Hi, Momma. It is probably one of my favourites so far. Well, I don’t have plans to write Archangels x Mom up to this point but if I get any idea I’ll probably write it. 

Thanks a lot, it means so much t me that you feel this way.