#they can move in so many ways! not just the mouths or hands or such!

[keferon]

So the Mech AU is something and it's captured me too.

Set sometime after Prowl discovers Jazz is a pilot but before they go to Earth

———————————————————————

"Do they all look the same?"

Sat in a makeshift chair made from a tarp thrown over a spare tire, Jazz was in the middle of refueling from a small plastic baggie when Prowl broadly gestured to the inanimate body of his mech.

"The mechs? Naw, at least not the ones that last. I've had mine long enough that it's gotten all sorts of unique design changes and upgrades. There's no other mech that looks or moves just like mine."

The reassurance that Jazz's mech form was an individual creation was pleasing for some reason. Perhaps Prowl didn't like the idea of a dozen identical blank visors, the body of his friend replicated and filled with someone else.

"There's like. three or four classes of mech I think?" Jazz continued unaware of Prowl's secret anxiety.

"There's Rescue Class, those are the smallest, and they actually aren't built for fighting but for digging through rubble and cleaning up chunks of alien. Plus, sometimes those tentacle freaks have parasites that drop off when they die so the R-class kill 'em before they can become an invasive species."

"I thought you said they weren't designed for combat?"

Jazz finishes their fuel and shrugs.

"Its a war. Nobody gets out of fighting completely. Before I left I heard they were sticking a medic into- into fuckin' Vortex."

There were, many questions Prowl had concerning that last sentence. How desperate were the humans to be making their caregivers into soldiers? Why was this Vortex so infamous?

Why did Jazz sound angry at first, but by the time he got to saying "Vortex" the name came out as a rush of breath rather than a proper word?

What stopped him from pressing further on the topic was how Jazz seemed to shrink. And sink.

And stare at nothing at all.

It was so nauseatingly not Jazz that Prowl nudged the tire a bit and guided the conversation back to familiar territory.

"So what class are you?" Prowl said, while crossing his arms on the table and resting his chin on them. It was, very off model posture for the Praxian, but without the ability to pick up EM fields, exaggerated body language seemed to be the best way to get through to his human.

On a hunch, Prowl lightly waved his door-wings as well. Jazz smiled at them, and at him and Prowl preened with a modest smile back.

"I happen, to-just-so-be-the-Top-of-my-class-a-thank-you-veeery-much!" Jazz said popping each syllable like a song, resting his chin on his knuckles to match Prowls gaze.

"In terms of mech?" He nodded in its direction.

"I'm Striker Class baby, we're the fastest, the most agile and in my personal opinion the the most effective fighters in the whole program."

"And you do not personally feel as though you are an outlier bringing up the average?"

Mouth agape in mock shock, Jazz placed a hand over his spark- Flesh? Flesh-spark? Prowl deleted the line of thought and focused on the performance.

“I assure you Prowler, there are plenty of other Striker class pilots out there that do good for our name. I mean, there’s Blur for one thing. The guys basically the poster child of the whole program. Ridiculously fast mech. There’s also Hot Rod. His mech had the funny little quirk of CONSTANTLY CATCHING ON FIRE, buuut he turned it from a bug into a feature and now that’s just his thing.”

“Just his thing?!”

“Yup.”

“Being on fire?”

Jazz sat up straighter and pointed a finger at Prowl, “Look. I don’t know the full story and I shouldn’t be the one to tell it either, but trust me when I tell you this guy earned it.”

Leaning back, Prowl processed the new layers of insanity humans would apparently subject themselves to before filing it under “Bizarre conversations with Jazz” in his processor and carrying on.

“So what’s your special quality?”

“Me? I’m freakishly good at syncing up with my mech. Like, Blur is faster, but I’m smoother. Like, like that really is me. It just, I dunno, feels right. Fits me.”

Jazz looked over to his mech for a long time. Frowning at the fuel packet in his hands and solemnly crushing it into a ball.

“In terms of mech?” Jazz looked looked over to Prowl, smile returning with ease.

“I think I might be the only one that’s built for the stars.”

Their conversation continued into the evening like a leisurely dance. Discussing Pool Time, the war, cultural differences , the quintessons, their homes, what remained of them, and all the people they know and once knew.

Prowl never brought up Vortex again, though perhaps he should have.

__________________________________________

"What," Prowl choked out, his voice more static than sound. "Is that?"

The sky was green. The quintessions were in chunks. A mech, matte black with a blank visor, caaaarved into the body of the last living invader. A blade that massive was too big to keep a clean cutting edge, so the mech made up for the lack of delicacy with brute force.

It. It wasn't killing the damn thing. It was vivisecting the aliens spinal column from its body, each rib snapping off with a supersonic POP that shook Ratchets hangar and barely carried over the fucking awful sound of the thing screaming in terror.

Prowl would have never thought a Quintession could be a Victim before that moment.

Spine and brain case finally extracted, the mech lifted its prize to its opening vi- mouth.

That is its mouth. It's head was the size of his entire chassis. Inside, a stranger. Over bright eyes, straining and shaking against restraints within to get a better look at what was being held up to him. The mech moved without any input, tilting its helm back and cracking the skull to fill its open maw with cerebral fluid.

A funnel cloud touched down in the distance.

"That.? Jazz said, leaning against Prowls good side. “Is Vortex.”

TH A T. IS VORTEX

Man……I think Cybertronians would consider themselves big and scary compared to primitive earth life. And then meet Vortex. And then see Vortex in their nightmares for the next five million business years

[alchemistc]

Harry twirls a lock of dark curls between his fingers. Tips his chin against Tommy's head and stares up at the ceiling. He considers not asking, this time.

The sex is good, and Tommy's funny, and if he closes his eyes he could imagine there could be something - Tommy twitches and shifts his hand lower like he might be gearing up for another round, and it breaks the fantasy. That's new.

"Tell me about him," Harry says, and Tommy's eyes tip up to glare at Harry.

"Making an assumption, there," Tommy warns, but Harry just raises an eyebrow. Six years of this and Harry knows better than to expect Tommy would show up at his door for any reason other than to get his mind off of something - someone else.

"So we're both asses," Harry intones. He needs to call the super, see what they'll do about the water stain on his ceiling. "Tell me about him."

Tommy sighs. Twists, drifts away to the second pillow, and Harry's done this enough times not to mourn the loss, exactly. It's not like he's ever told Tommy -

"He's too young. Impulsive. New."

Harry fails to hold in his snort. "Okay."

Tommy at 34 had been a fucking hurricane. Newly out, no holds barred, he'd jumped right into the deep end and let the storm whirl him around. They'd been friends, for the first six months, Harry a watchful presence while Tommy made it his mission to be more than the guy in the dark corner getting a risky blowie fifteen minutes before last call. To be out - not loud, that wasn't Tommy's style - but to at least be himself.

He'd lasted two months in a real, actual relationship before he'd shown up at Harry's door with a six pack and a box of condoms.

"He looks at me and sees this - cool suave guy -" Harry shifts, nearly interrupts because that guy is exactly what Tommy projects, even if he doesn't mean to. Fucking Scorpios. "- and I was falling for him."

Yeah. Harry can extrapolate from that. Tommy fell ass over tea kettle and then got spooked.

"He's just so fucking open with himself. No brainworm goes untouched, and he can't hide his emotions for shit, and he's so goddamn stubborn and so goddamn ready to bulldoze through every hurdle ahead without looking back at the damage, and..." Tommy trails off. One hand shifts down to hitch the duvet up over his hips, and Harry adds the duvet cover to his list of laundry. "I gave him too many chances to slow down on his own."

"What, did the kid ask you to marry him or something?"

"He's the Himbo," Tommy retorts, and it takes Harry a moment to make the connection. He whistles through his teeth just to watch the scowl fall into place on Tommy's face. "And the connection freaked him out so much he asked me to move in. To his bachelor pad loft." Harry waits. "It has two balconies, Harry. Two."

"...he knows you have a mortgage, right?"

Tommy shoves at his shoulder. "It doesn't matter. We're just - the timing wasn't right."

"Did you want it to be?"

That's always the thing he ends up hung up on, in Harry's experience. Tommy's scared out of his mind to be the right person at the wrong time. Always has been. There's probably some mommy or daddy issues hidden in there somewhere he hasn't explored. Tommy's eyes drift up to the water stain. "Don't these apartments all have the same layout?"

This is the shove-off. This is his hint not to push. "Yes, and I really don't want to ask how the upstairs neighbor flooded their bedroom. Back to the guy." He's never been one for acknowledging unspoken cues.

"Buck," Tommy says, and the name sounds harsh in his mouth.

"Buck," Harry repeats, and pictures Tommy's usual type - tall, light-eyed, more smiles than common sense. There was always something distinctive, too - freckles, a scar, weird shaped ears.

"I miss him."

It doesn't hurt the way it had those first few years, when Harry was convinced that eventually Tommy would see him as more than a friend to blow off steam with. Still. There's a twinge there, beneath his rib cage.

"So stop missing him. That's an option, isn't it?"

And Tommy does that thing - that frustrating, enchanting thing, where his whole body seems to hold the emotion flickering across his face. "I walked out on him. I dug the damn knife in just to make sure he wouldn't try to convince me to stay."

"Would you have? Stayed?"

Tommy's quiet. The sweat has cooled on his skin, and the lights coming in through his window dance across the skin of his shoulder, his chest, that stupid thick neck of his.

The phone he left on the bedside table is dark, but that doesn't stop Tommy's gaze flicking to it.

"Cards on the table, Tommy?" Harry sucks in a breath. Blows it out through his nose. "Once upon a time, I convinced myself you were it for me. That I'd be satisfied with what you gave me, and I wouldn't ask for more. I cut you out of my life for eight months when I realized how fucking dumb that was."

Tommy frowns. Harry hadn't really ever expected him to notice.

"I've seen you through shitty relationships, and one sided ones. I've heard all the bullshit you and Greg put each other through. I've been there for every fucking heartache."

And he'd offered up his body like it was absolution for always being fucking thrilled when a relationship ended.

"You called me Evan," Harry murmurs, and Tommy's eyes go wide. That's never fucking happened before. This thing wouldn't have lasted nearly as long if he'd ever heard another man's name in his bed before. "You should shower. Go home. Take a day or two, if you need it. But I know for a fact you wait this shit out, justify coming to me with time and space from whatever guy has you strung out. I know it's been a minute already, and I know you've never sounded so unsure about cutting someone loose."

Tommy's gaze flicks to him.

"Whatever it is that's got you so scared of this guy, figure it the fuck out. Because it sounds to me like you fell fast and hard and hit a fucking wall before you ever thought to tap the brakes. That's not fair to you or him. Call him. Text him. Show up at his door with a bouquet or an industrial size bottle of lube and figure your shit out. Together."

Tommy stares at him for a long, long time in silence.

"Them's the brakes, huh?"

Harry hates that he knows exactly what Tommy means. Still, he clarifies. "This is your forever guy." Six years of watching him flail and learn and grow and hurt and love and fuck. He knows a thing or two about Tommy and his flights of romance. Knows this lonely man has never sounded quite so lonely before. "You don't need me, anymore."

He's quiet as his eyes drift back up to the stain. "I'm not his forever guy." Harry can't actually refute that, considering he's never met the guy. But he knows Tommy. Knows exactly how captivating he can be. Knows Tommy's a sucker for that starry-eyed look that so often has meant not love, as Tommy reads it, but idolization. "What if I'm not his forever guy?"

Harry digs toes into the spot in the duvet where Tommy's knees should be. He shifts Tommy about half a millimeter. "He has a nickname you don't call him except when you're punishing yourself. He dated Abby and that shared history didn't scare him off. You'd never let yourself fall for a guy that wasn't throwing clear signs that it was serious. I'd put my odds on him doing something weird and wholesome every time he thinks about you until his entire two balcony loft is filled with trinkets or treats and he still can't get you off his mind."

Harry's never seen Tommy's face do that before. Not in the throes of a honeymoon phase and not in the worst of a bad breakup. It's some awful mixture between unbridled hope and abject despair.

Harry thinks it's probably fair to hate him a little, for that face. He's earned the right.

"If he kicks you to the curb, I'll take you to one of those expensive wine tastings you pretend to hate, and I'll let you drink all my samples too." It's not an idle promise. Tommy may pretend to hate it but Harry fucking loves wine tastings. "If he doesn't..." Harry shoots him a fond look, "...knowing your type I'm not invited to the wedding anyway, so I guess then I'd been seeing you around."

Something shadows his gaze for a moment, but he's quick to hide it, to smack Harry on the chest like they've just had a good game, to shift out of bed and into his briefs before Harry can blink. He doesn't love Tommy. Not the way he'd have liked to, years and years ago. Still, when Tommy shoots him the dorkiest finger guns known to man and scoops up the rest of his clothes to take to the bathroom with him, Harry still wonders what it's like to have him enough to love him fully.

---

The name catches him off guard every time he hears it. 'Evan' isn't hard to filter - Evan had been a popular enough name to immediately write it off but Buck wasn't white noise of a name

Buck was a character in a movie, an old grizzled war vet, a dog. The name Buck wasn't popular enough not to hear it every time it was so much as whispered in his direction.

The coffee shop isn't crowded, but it's not dead either. When the girl at the counter calls out an order for Buck, sliding three cups down the counter, Harry can't help but look up.

A tall broad shouldered hulk of a man smiles a dimpled smile at the barista, and Harry watches him palm two cups and grab the third one in one practiced move. He's cute, Harry thinks. Maybe his grandpa ordered, Harry thinks, a little harder, and then caves, following his path through the three-tops littering the lobby.

Harry catches sight of him without being noticed. He's grinning, one of those rare earnest ones that make his ears rise and his face crinkle like a Shar Pei, hand spread out over something lying open on the table. The little girl on the seat to his right is a surprise, but Harry hasn't spoken to Tommy in two years. Maybe he's had enough time to get his mind around the idea that he's nothing like his father. The girl responds to something Tommy says by palming at as much of his face as she can reach and turning to the man now approaching their table.

"Uncle Buck!" he catches, another firm tug at the part of his brain that's been stuck on this for too long. The man barely gets all three drinks on the table before the girl is launching herself up into his arms, and it's too late for Harry to turn away without notice. Tommy's gaze shifts across the room and lands right on him.

He looks like he might wave Harry over, and Harry would rather die than know whether Tommy would introduce him as an old friend, or by name like Buck should know it. He tips a smile Tommy's way. Raises a brow at the man - Buck - and gets lips being sucked behind teeth in response, and then a slow, subtle head tilt.

Good. Good for him. Harry's never wanted anything for Tommy but to see him incandescently happy.

Witnessing it from a distance is better.

Buck twirls his - niece? - flops her back down on the bench seat next to Tommy and bends to say something that includes a pinky promise. He's got a wine-dark stain just above his brow, and Harry can't quite hide the tip of his smile.

Harry's name rings in his ears as he picks up his drink, and he's halfway to the door, feeling proud of himself for not turning back, when he hears the chorus of three laughs erupting from the corner where he'd taken his last good look.

He'd seen the ring on insta, a week and a half ago. Just an uncaptioned picture of two bands balanced one over the other on a rock, a killer sunset sky blurry behind them. No tags. 102 likes and counting.

Harry pushes through the doors and only glances through the window to watch Tommy tip his head back in laughter for a second, before he's cleared the coffee shop and rounded the corner back to his office.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Hawks x Y/N | Doggy Style

Just pictured Hawks fucking me doggy style and I straight up drooled...so here's a little head cannon about it. A18+ MDNI

When Hawks lines himself up behind you, your dripping wet with anticipation. He starts like he always does, gently spreading your legs and slipping his hands up and down your hips to appreciate your curves.

You shiver when you feel the head of his cock brush against your sensitive pussy. He grins and slides his dick back and forth against you slowly. His cockhead glides against your clit and you see stars at the contact.

"Please, Keigo." You groan out, face planted firmly in a pillow, your ass up in the air beneath his capable hands. "Can't wait any longer."

You hear him chuckle to himself from behind you, and then feel him gently pushing inside. That's the thing about Keigo - he's always so, so gentle when he fucks you.

It's funny...you're not even together. Not really. Just two friends who's careers prevent them from dating and settling down. Instead of trying your hands at the dating market, you fuck each other. It's easier this way. Less complicated. You each know what the other likes in bed, and there's no time to sleep around so you don't need to waste time with condoms.

He fucks into you slowly, like you're something precious. Strong, calloused hero hands grip the sides of your ass as he buries himself inside of you, inch by inch. When he bottoms out, he lets out a strangled gasp. "No matter how many times we do this, I never get used to the feel of you. So goddamn good." He practically growls, throwing his head back as he starts to move inside of you.

Each stroke is measured - he finds the perfect rhythm and tempo as he glides in and out of your soaked pussy. Your hazy brain's pleasure receptors sparkle at the way he bucks his hips to hit that special spot deep inside of you. You feel your orgasm building as he slides a hand down your hips, up your stomach and smooths rough fingertips across your nipples. You vaguely wonder at when this turned from a friends with benefits situation to love. When he fucks you like this - all sweet and thoughtful - you swear you're in love with him. This has got to be love, right?

He keeps his pace steady and scoots closer to you so he can kiss at the planes of your back. He presses soft, open mouthed kisses to all the skin within his reach. You back up into him, feeling his balls bounce against you as he keeps his rhythm steady.

"Yes, baby. Just like that. Take it. Take everything I've got." He practically moans, singing your praises as you help him fuck you. That's new - since when did he call you baby!?

"Keigo!" You cry out as he brings his fingertips down to play with your clit. He rubs slow, lazy circles around you, encouraging you to cum whenever your ready. "Keigo fuckkk. Cum inside me? Please. Please cum inside me oh fuck."

He doesn't need telling twice - he lets himself get comfortable inside of you, enjoying the warm squeeze and stretch of your tiny cunt as he fucks you.

You cum around his cock within minutes, crying out his name as he fucks you into oblivion. A creamy ring forms around his dick as you throw it back and fuck him senseless - riding out your orgasm as he rolls his hips steadily. The fluttering of your pussy around his dick sends him over the edge as well. Thick, warm ropes of cum fill you up quickly. Your pussy milks him, taking every bit of cum his cock is willing to give you.

When he's finally finished inside of you, he slowly pulls out. You know he likes to watch the creampie drip out of you slowly, so you hold your position to give him a good view. When he's had his fill of looking, he slips off the mattress and grabs a warm washcloth from the bathroom to indulge in some after care. He wipes gently between your legs, avoiding your gaze as does so.

"So..." He says, somewhat awkwardly as he wipes up his baby batter between your thighs. "I don't know that I can do this casually with you anymore. Y/N. I'm, like, down bad for you."

You snap your legs shut and look up at him, surprised.

"I want us to be more than fuck buddies. I think we should go on a date." He says earnestly, handing over the washcloth so you can continue the job on your own. "I mean...of course I want to continue fucking. Fucking you is literally my favorite thing. I just want it to mean something more."

"Keigo, you're babbling." You say. The face you're making is absolutely priceless - you definitely weren't expecting this conversation to happen tonight.

"Cumming makes me emotionally intelligent." He jokes, throwing you a cheeky fan service wink. "Think about it. The date, I mean."

"Alright. Let's start now. Wanna go grab some food?" You say, your stomach growling loudly in agreement. Hawks looks at you with hearts in his eyes and nods excitedly.

"A woman after my own heart." He slides off the bed to gather up your clothes and pass them your way. "It's a date."

[monamipencil]

i have never heard of self respect or feminism or women's rights. like wym??? i dont know them. i only know this man. anna, this was so fucking hot??? grrrrr. im losing my mind here

annotations;

The only communication between you two is texts asking the other to come over. To fulfill each other's desires through a quick and hard fuck.

fuck, that's so toxic but so hot

But with Joshua, he doesn’t even begin till he’s made you cum. The gratification he gives you doesn’t start with his cock inside you. It begins with his mouth on your cunt, his fingers inside your wet hole. The chivalry he displays while he fucks you in your bed is unfortunately the only way you are able to witness it.

😌 im just a girl <3

Outside of your late nights with him, he doesn’t contact you, or even try to have a conversation with you. And yet you still fell for him.

grrrrrr, this is hitting home

He doesn’t care that he’s promised that this would be the last time, he doesn’t care that you want to better your self.

feminism and self-respect, who? ain't never heard of them

Before you can even register whats happening, you feel him fully sheath himself inside you.

oh fuck, im a whore for dubcon

Joshua’s hands come down to slap your ass harshly, leaving large red hand prints against your supple skin.

🥴🥴 grrr, rough josh can get me

“Joshua please, don’t cum inside me,” you beg him, but he just chuckles at your pleas. “Be a good girl for me and just take what I give you,”

fuck???? omg

His other hands is pushing your face into the pillow with so much force that you genuinely don’t believe that you are able to move from where you lay.

yes. im tweaking here,

“I’ll text you the next time I want to come over,” Joshua says when he’s fully dressed, pulling you into a deep kiss before leaving.

ok fuck. does that hurt? yes. do i still want it? fuck yes

It doens’t matter how many times you tell him that “this is the last time”, Joshua always get what he wants.

RAHHHHHHHHHHH 🦅🦅🦅

Come Thru

" you make me wanna come thru quarter after two just to put it down on you"

✧ pairing: joshua hong x female!reader ✧ wordcount: 1.7k ✧ genre: toxic fwb situation, slight angst, smut (mdni 18+)

✧ reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!

✧ summary: your fwb joshua, comes over despite your half-assed protests. you arrangment is over, but one last time won't hurt, right? ✧ tags: non-idol!au, fwb! joshua, toxic!joshua, afab!reader, few smau texts, joshua is an asshole and reader lets him. ✧ warning/smut tags: DUBCON, coercion, unprotected p in v sex, degradation, slapping, groping, fingering, creampie. ✧ note: i recommend you don't take the dubcon and coercion warning lightly, if this isn't your cup of tea do not read. minors plz do not even try, i am watching. joshua is written to be an asshole in this fic. i also want to preface that i don't view joshua in this way irl, this is purely fiction. don't be like reader irl, this is made up plz. thank u to @junkissed and @okiedokrie for beta-reading ♡. also i had to ai generate an expanded version of this pic for the header, fyi. -> i have been in a joshua brain rot for the past 3 months, so this is the cause for this fic :p. lmk if u like darker themed fics! see u soonest - anna !

A part of you is reluctant to open the door, whilst the other part is begging you to give him one more chance. One more chance to kiss him, to feel him against your skin, to hear him say your name. 

There hasn’t been a time where you’ve denied Joshua’s need, allowing him to use your body in the ways he sees fit. But it’s different now, and that difference is the fact that you and Joshua don’t see eye to eye on the current status of your “relationship”. 

But you let him in anyway, you allow him to feel you completely, even when you know it's wrong. You know it’s wrong to do these things when you’re desperately in love with him and you know he doesn’t reciprocate those feelings. The only communication between you two is texts asking the other to come over. To fulfill each other's desires through a quick and hard fuck. 

“Fuck, it's cold,” Joshua mutters, rubbing his arms to create some type of warmth as you open the door, “what took you so long?” 

“Then go home,” you roll your eyes, moving over to let him pass through the door despite the fact you told him to go home. 

“I don't wanna, I've missed you,” Joshua smiles at you, not with affection but just because he’s pleased at the fact that you allowed him to come over. 

“Why are you here, Shua?” you ask him, your arms crossing in front of your chest as you feign annoyance. 

“You know why,” he says, eyes piercing yours as his expression turns serious. 

“We can’t keep doing this,” you sigh, but your feet move towards you bedroom anyways while Joshua follows suit. 

Despite your verbal protest, you can’t help but fall into his trap. Blaming it on how handsome he is, how soft his voice gets when hes with you, and especially because he knows how to fuck you right. 

In your past relationships, sex never felt good, it was mostly just you going through the motions. Your partners finishing and leaving you to lie there sticky and displeased. But with Joshua, he doesn’t even begin till he’s made you cum. The gratification he gives you doesn’t start with his cock inside you. It begins with his mouth on your cunt, his fingers inside your wet hole. The chivalry he displays while he fucks you in your bed is unfortunately the only way you are able to witness it. 

Outside of your late nights with him, he doesn’t contact you, or even try to have a conversation with you. And yet you still fell for him. 

You feel his arms snake around your waist as the two of you head to your bedroom. There’s a feeling in your stomach that you can’t pinpoint. A feeling of guilt mixed with a bit of excitement. 

His lips move down your neck and you can’t help but lean back against his chest as he shuts the door. Strong arms pulling your waist in tighter as he leaves small bruises along your skin. 

Your body feels hot. All rational thoughts have left your head the moment he touched you. His hands start to move, groping at your chest, the flimsy material of your sleep wear allowing him to feel you despite the barrier. Your nipples hardening against his fingertips and he moves your head to the side, pulling you into a deep kiss. 

His dominant hand moves down from your chest, across your stomach and into your sleep shorts. 

“Why aren't you wearing underneath?” he mumbles against your lips. 

“It's too hot,” you respond before kissing him again. 

Finding your clit, he rubs circles against your sensitive bud. Rubbing and playing with you until your legs start to shake. The makeout ceases as your too overwhelmed by pleasure, your mouth open yet still against his lips as you moan out his name. 

“Fuck, you’re such a slut for me aren’t you, baby,” He curses, placing a finger inside your dripping cunt. 

He continues to play with you, his finger moving in and out of your tight pussy. Your walls are pulsing as he begins to add a second and then a third. The coil in your stomach starts to tighten as Joshua speeds up his ministrations. 

“I'm close,” you whimper, your eyebrows furrowing as you concentrate on reaching your orgasm. 

“Still so fucking tight,” Joshua whisper in your ear, feeling the way you clench around his fingers, "no matter how many times I put my cock into you."

It all comes to an abrupt stop and you whine at the loss of his touch. His pupils are dilated, eyelids lowered with lust. He doesn’t allow you to whine for him any further, carrying your body towards the bed before dropping you. Your body hits the mattress and it bounces underneath your weight. 

“Fuck me, please,” you beg him, your eyes watching the way he removes his clothes. 

You follow his actions, removing your soiled sleep shorts and thin tank top. Your tits bouncing as you throw your shirt onto the floor, not caring where it lands. The only thing on your mind is Joshua’s cock and the feeling of him being inside you. 

His eyes wash over your frame, his adam’s apple bobbing as he takes your figure in. He thinks your so sexy, with the way you stare at him so needily, your legs already spread for him. He doesn’t care that he’s promised that this would be the last time, he doesn’t care that you want to better your self. To stop this arraignment. He’s addicted to the feeling of your tight pussy, how it milks his cum and leaves him wanting another round. 

Hovering over top of you he aligns his dick with your entrance, rubbing the fat tip of his cock against your wet slit. The sounds coming from his actions are unholy, but to him the feeling is like heaven on earth. 

“You're soaking,” he groans, applying pressure to your clit with the tip of his length. 

Your eyes roll back, your walls pulsating around nothing, all you want is for him to be inside you. But you stop him for a moment, wondering why he hasn’t put on a condom. 

“Do you have a condom?” you place your hand against his chest, pushing him back slightly. 

“No, it's fine, we’ve done it without one before,” he shrugs. 

You sit up a little and roll your eyes at him. Sure you’ve done it without a condom before, but now that this arrangment has lost it’s exclusivity, you don’t trust Joshua’s words. You know that he’s probably seeing other people. 

“Joshua, fuck, are you trying to get me pregnant?” you sigh, and he does the same. 

“But it feels better without it,” he whispers in your ear before pushing you down onto the bed again. 

Before you can even register whats happening, you feel him fully sheath himself inside you. A moan escapes your lips in surprise and also pleasure. You don’t want him to fuck you like this, but the pleasure is too hard to ignore. The feeling of his naked cock inside you causes you to squeeze around him tighter. 

“I told you, it feels better without one,” he mutters, pushing your legs into your chest, folding you in half. His upper body against you, your legs essentially locked in place. 

“Joshua please,” your eyelids droop with pleasure. Your hands moving to grip his biceps as you allow him to fuck you raw. 

Joshua groans from above you, his hips snapping against your cunt, balls slapping against the skin of your ass. You can see the clear outline of his cock poking out from your lower stomach. 

“Your pussy's so good, fuck,” he continues to groan out of pleasure, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust, "taking my cock so well, baby."

He moves slightly to let go of one of your legs as he sits up, flipping your body and arranges you till your ass is in the air, your back arched. As he re-enters you, a salacious moan leaves your lips, savouring the feeling of his balls hitting your clit. 

“No one is going to fuck you like I do, you hear me?” He says, his thrusts becoming more powerful to emphasize his words. 

“I said, do you hear me?” he reiterates himself, and you answer him obediently. 

"Mhm, fuck, feels so good," you whine.

Joshua’s hands come down to slap your ass harshly, leaving large red hand prints against your supple skin. The burn feels goods and your whimper with every slap he gives you. 

“Joshua please, don’t cum inside me,” you beg him, but he just chuckles at your pleas. 

You can feel your self getting closer to your orgasm, your walls tighenting against his cock with every move he makes. 

“Be a good girl for me and just take what I give you,” is all Joshua says, his hands moving over to your clit, rubbing it in circles to get you closer to completion. 

His other hands is pushing your face into the pillow with so much force that you genuinely don’t believe that you are able to move from where you lay. You can feel his member twitch inside you, his thrust beginning to get sloppy. The headboard is banging against the wall as he moves in and out of you.

Then you feel it, his hips still, his length fully inside you, tip right against your cervix before he releases his load. 

“Shua!”

You moan at the way his hot white cum fill your needy cunt, your eyes rolling back as your releases follows right after his. All you can hear is his laboured breathing as he removes himself from you.

Letting go of his hold on you, your body flops agains the mattress. You can hear shuffling behind you and you turn around to see Joshua already putting on his clothes. 

“I’ll text you the next time I want to come over,” Joshua says when he’s fully dressed, pulling you into a deep kiss before leaving. 

You sigh into your pillow, the relization of what just happened hitting you right away. The feeling of his cum dripping out of your now swollen cunt makes you feel sick, but you can’t get over how good he makes you feel. It doens’t matter how many times you tell him that “this is the last time”, Joshua always get what he wants.

✧ note: thank you for reading, i hoped you liked it! leave a comment or an ask if u wanna see more of this.

✧ taglist: @christinewithluv @todorokiskitten @peachescreamandcrumble @minwonfairy @oneandonlyluvv @ihrtmingyu @tigerhoshii @sleepzyy @luveveryonewoo @thepoopdokyeomtouched @chan-s-laptop @aksweet7 @leah-rose03 @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @gyuguys @crystal-rhyming @jenoxygen @hoshhhiiiii @babigriin @bouclesdefeu @mingyuecstacy @iluvseokmin @odevote118 @wonvsmile @suga-bitch @chickpea-jimin @lar3ine @bias-recs @hanniebub @iluvmingi @vapidlynn @aaniag @yogurttea @blurr3db3rry @lovejoshua @woozixo @drunk-on-dk @noiceoofed @angelfeverdream @leahhhher @hanniebwii @yuyunhoo @whowantshota @hannniiiiiehae @writingbarnes @chariseiswriting @imhwajaez @tomodachiii @valenhui @3lilredroses @bunnyjjongie @sunniques @lovejoshua (hi user lovejoshua u love joshua so here’s some joshua)

[hippiegoth97]

Random Spencer Reid Thought #2

A/N: Fucking FINALLY got something written for once. Enjoy some crumbs, lovely readers <3

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smut, virgin!Spencer Reid, fem!reader, no use of Y/N, fingering, groping, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, dirty talk, rough sex, fluff

Some tags: @rafeyscurtainbangs @loserboysandlithium @hotwritergf @bloodibambiidoll

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Spence?" You ask Reid as you're straddling his thighs, the two of you naked in his bed as you have been so many times before. Although, it's different this time, because he's just asked you to take his virginity from him.

"Yes. I'm ready." He replies softly, sitting up against the headboard, his hands resting at your waist. He's brought you here on many occasions, though up until recently the most you'd do is make out until your lips were sore.

He'd met you at a book shop a few months ago, reaching for the same first edition of some dusty old classic. Sherlock Holmes, maybe, or perhaps even Moby Dick. He doesn't quite remember (and his unmatched memory captures everything), as he was far too focused on the gorgeous, soft hand that brushed against his own in grabbing for the book. A shared laugh soon followed, light and airy, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Your beauty enraptured him instantly, and he nearly tripped over himself to give you his number and await your call to plan a date of some sort. It was so unlike him to do so, it made him seriously question his sanity for an hour or two. But after a conversation with you that lasted hours into the night when he returned home that evening, he was pleased to find he'd made a very wise decision.

Fast forward to the last month or so, and things have rapidly progressed from hand-holding and passionate kisses to touching various naked areas with your hands and mouths. You've been patient, guiding Spencer along each stepping stone towards intercourse, encouraging him, exploring him in every way imaginable. Despite your insistence (and multiple comments he receives from certain coworkers of his), he's never exactly found himself to be attractive. Not really.

He's spent most of his life a full step ahead of everyone else in terms of education and career, leaving him considerably younger than most of his peers. That fact alone has made it rather difficult to experience a lot of 'firsts' in regards to intimacy. He's been kissed before you came along, maybe even felt up a little bit, but nothing beyond that. In all honesty, a part of him is glad to have been spared the awkward adolescent groping and vulgar attempts at playing grown-up, because now he's been able to share all of these amatory encounters with you.

"I want this. I want you." Spencer reiterates as you haven't made any next moves yet.

"I want you too, baby. I just have one more question." You say softly, brushing a wispy hair out of his face before cupping his cheek.

"And what's that?" Reid asks, unable to help smiling as you gaze at him adoringly.

"Do you want me to put a condom on you, or are you okay without one?" You ask, the words sounding a bit more clinical than you'd like. But it's a fair question.

"I-I dunno. Should I?" His brow furrows, unsure how to go about this. He's aware you're on the pill, though that statistically isn't 100% effective. And he may be a virgin, but he's aware of the mess sex can make, and it might spare a bit of cleanup afterwards. He's getting stuck on it now, pondering inside his head as you play with the foil wrapper between your fingers.

You giggle at his momentary trance, shaking your head. "It's only if you want to, Spence. It's not exactly a life-altering decision."

"That's not true. You could still end up pregnant." Spencer retorts, about to rattle off statistics at you about just how many children were born to parents who assumed oral contraceptives were enough. You put a finger over his mouth to stop him, and he sighs when he realizes how intense he's getting about this. He gently moves your hand away, speaking again. "I'm sorry, I'm being silly."

"No, you're not. It's sweet that you're so concerned." You reassure him, giving him a soft kiss. He hums into you, allowing your tongue to slip into his mouth for a moment. You pull away shortly after, taking his breath with you. With your lips still brushing against his, you meet his dizzied gaze. "I only ask, because I want your first time to be extra special. And it'll feel so much better if you fuck me without a condom on." You say seductively, making his pupils dilate with lust.

"Actually, studies show that there's little to no difference in sensat-" Reid's gargantuan mind starts up again, leaving you no choice but to cut him off by taking his cock in your grasp. "-fuck." He mutters, losing his train of thought entirely, his eyes flicking down to look at the scene between his legs. His stiff, ample length throbs in your hand, pearly beads of precum dripping down the side as you lazily stroke him.

"Baby, look at me..." You purr, drawing his gaze to you. "I'm gonna ask you again. All I need is a 'yes; or 'no', okay?" You wait for him to give an understanding nod. He does, as well as letting out one of the filthiest little moans you've ever heard. "Do you want to wear a condom?" You ask, letting his dick fall from your hand for a moment. He whines at the loss, the sound sending a flare of arousal between your legs.

"No. I want to feel you. All of you. Please." Spencer begs, and you could just about melt at the pitchy whimper in his voice. You've noticed he grows rather needy in bed, and it doesn't take much to rile him up. The way he takes everything you give him like a precious gift is so goddamn intoxicating.

"So do I, Spence." You say with a smile, one he mirrors. "Is this position okay? We can do it any way you want."

"This is fine, makes me feel close to you." Reid says sweetly, squeezing your hips a little.

"You wanna warm me up a little bit first?" You ask, longing to feel his touch.

"Of course." He nods, leaning in to press his lips to yours. Spencer always starts with a kiss, no matter what it is you end up doing. It's really romantic, and makes your knees weak every time. You let him lead, allowing his tongue to dominate yours in a fervent dance. His hand leaves your waist, trailing along your supple skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. His long fingers brush past your inner thighs, reaching their intended destination without him having to look. He rubs slow circles on your clit, making you moan against his mouth. It doesn't take long for him to venture further, slipping two fingers inside your drenched cunt.

"Fuck, Spence." You moan aloud, the way his fingertips can reach your g-spot so quickly and easily takes you by surprise every time. You grab hold of his cock again, mainly holding it to keep him ready. Although, the sounds you're making and how wet you are seem to be doing that job just fine. The air of the room heats up, growing thinner as the seconds pass. Unabashed moans escape the two of you as you work each other up, building towards the one thing you've both desired for so long. "I'm ready when you are." You say breathlessly, eager to finally feel Spencer inside of you.

"O-Okay." He stutters, nodding his head enthusiastically. He pulls his fingers out of your cunt, bringing them to his lips. He sucks them clean, moaning at the taste of you. "Mm."

"Dirty boy." You tease, making a deep blush bloom wildly across his cheeks. You start to stroke him again, very slowly. You get up on your knees to position yourself over him.

He watches your every move, unable to say a word. It's finally happening. He's going to have sex. With you. Reid feels like a silly teenager with all these thoughts running through his head, but they all fall away the second you bring the tip of his cock to glide through your folds. You share a moan at the sensation, gazing at one another with parted mouths. Hearts pounding in anticipation, breath stolen from your lungs, arousal leaking from you both and mixing together in the indescribable friction. Spencer could cum just like this if he isn't careful.

"Ready?" You ask one final time, just to be absolutely sure that he wants this.

"Yes." Reid nods, trying to keep himself from squirming. You feel so good, and he's not even inside you yet. He's certain he won't last long, but you've already told him a hundred times that it won't be a problem.

You don't waste anymore time, holding his cock at your entrance and gradually sinking down onto him. "Fuck, Spence. You're so big." You moan as he splits you open. He's a bit larger than you've had before, and it's been quite some time since you've done this, so every inch is deliciously stuffing you full.

Reid, on the other hand, has gone completely mute. His mind has stopped working, and all he can do is grip onto your hips with all the strength he has without hurting you. You're absolute heaven inside, if he believed in such a thing. So hot, and slick, and snug, squeezing around his dick perfectly. He finally understands what all the fuss is about. He could just about cry from happiness in this moment. Once you're fully seated on him, your walls constrict out of reflex, which appears to get Spencer's sex-addled brain working again. "Oh, my...fuck- I, um, wow..." He babbles, unsure what to do with himself. His hands fidget at your sides aimlessly, and his expression twists and bends in all manner of ways as he attempts to get a grip on one singular thought.

"Shh, look at me, Spencer." You coo to him, leading his chin with your finger. He meets your eyes, though his own desperately want to roll back into his fucking skull. "That's it, baby. Just breathe, alright? Nice and slow, 'kay?" You guide him through the initial shock, nodding together slowly as he takes deep breaths. "There you go. I'm gonna start moving now, okay? Don't worry if you cum early, and just tell me if you need me to stop." You say softly, keeping things light and low-pressure. The last thing you need is him worrying about his performance.

"Okay." He breathes, chest shuddering as you start to ride him. You lift yourself up, almost letting him fall out altogether, and come back down at the same pace. You do this a few more times, gradually picking up a bit of speed.

"That feel good, baby?" You ask him, rolling your hips as you set a steady rhythm.

"Yeah, so fucking good." Spencer huffs, feeling close already. But he puts that out of his mind, focusing instead on enjoying this with you. "Do you feel good?" He asks, needing more than your vulgar moans as confirmation.

"So good, Spence. You fill me up so well, I'm so fucking wet for you." You admit these lewd thoughts to him, no stranger to being vocal during intimacy with him. Reid enjoys it immensely, adding words to the actions just makes everything astoundingly better. "Tell me how it feels to fuck me, Spencer." You say through a moan, riding him a little bit faster now.

Spencer groans at your increased speed, doing his best to hold back his orgasm. "I-It's exactly what I'd always hoped it would be." He starts. "I can hardly find the words to describe how much I'm enjoying this right now. You've blown my mind to pieces with this perfect fucking pussy." His grip on your waist grows rougher, taking you by surprise. He's following his instincts, leading you with his hands as you bounce on his cock. His assistance punctuates every landing you make, your noises growing louder as pleasure builds inside you. "I can feel you making a mess all over me, fucking soaked." He says, marveling at the drenched patch on his crotch. Your arousal glistens in the light as it's caught on his coarse hair and pale skin. "It drives me crazy to know you're loving this just as much as I am."

"I am, baby. You're so deep, hitting all the right places inside me." You say, speeding up a bit more. Spencer's hands migrate to your ass, squeezing your flesh roughly as he continues to keep up with you. You're surprised he's lasted this long, oddly proud of him for doing so.

"Fuck, you're incredible." Spencer groans, getting dangerously close to the edge again. He'd tell you to slow down, but everything feels too good to stop. Instead, he tries to drag you down with him, starting with diving face first into your tits. His mouth nips and sucks at your flesh wildly, struggling to land where he wants with your ceaseless bouncing. The noises he makes are borderline animalistic, groaning and grunting against your chest.

"Jesus, Spence!" You can't help letting out a breathless laugh at his urgency, picking up on the fact that his end is closer than your own. "You wanna try to help me out?" You offer, eager to feel him take some of the control. He doesn't say anything, just nods and makes an unintelligible sound at you. He thrusts his hips up, following what his primal urges are telling him to do. It appears to be working, given the shocked gasp that leaves your lungs at his effort. He keeps doing it, his mind turning to mush more and more as he fucks into your cunt to meet you halfway. "Oh my god! Yeah, keep doing that." You pant the words out, clinging to him by the shoulders.

Reid grins against your flesh, still biting and suckling while he pounds into you over and over. He's doing it, he's really doing it. He's keeping control of himself, he's going to make it. "Feel so fuckin' good, gonna make you cum, gonna make you scream, I promise...promise, promise..." Spencer murmurs to you, vowing to not give up, even though his balls are screaming for release right now. He has to get you there, if it's the last thing he'll ever do. "Such a perfect pussy, so good for me, so, so wet, fuck-" He groans when your walls constrict around him a bit, almost making him blow his load entirely.

"Don't stop, baby, you can do it, fuck me, make me cum, please, Spence..." You plead as your orgasm builds near the point of toppling over. His filthy mouth and feral actions have set you on fire from the inside out. You knew sleeping with Spencer would be special, and intense. But this is an entirely new level. His craving of you has blocked out all else, leaving him only with the mission to chase release. His, and your own.

"Oh, god, lay down, lay down, I'm gonna cum, gonna cum..." Spencer babbles, attempting to push you over onto your back. You follow his lead, his cock still sheathed inside you as you let him lead you where he wants. As soon as your body hits the mattress, he proceeds to ram himself into you as hard and as fast as he can.

"Fuck! Spencer!" You cry out as he hits an entirely new angle inside you, your ass resting over his knees as he thrusts forward. His hands grip your hips so hard, sure to leave dark bruises once he's through with you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna fill you up, gonna cum deep inside this pussy..." Reid grunts, sweat slicking him down, stomach clenching as he's about lose it.

"Keep going, baby. Don't stop, I'm almost there. Cum for me." You whine as his cock slams into you again and again.

"Fuck!" He nearly shouts when he finally feels it, his balls tightening, bliss washing over him, his hips stuttering as he fills you with thick ropes of white.

All you can do is bear witness as Spencer cums, harder than he ever has in his life. His brows knit together, mouth falling open as he moans so fucking loud. He keeps slamming his cock into you, hoping to pull you down alongside him. Feeling his load spill inside of you, as well as his desperate thrusts sends you tumbling over the edge. "Oh, god! Spencer!" You cry as your orgasm rips through you mercilessly. Your pussy clenches down on Reid's spent length, making him gasp as he keeps thrusting to get you off. You thighs shake violently, stars blurring your vision, hands clawing at the sheets beneath you. It's the most beautiful thing Spencer has ever seen.

You both slowly come down from your high, soaked in sweat and totally spent. Spencer carefully pulls out of you, though you still wince a little. "You okay?" He asks, noting your discomfort.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit worn out." You laugh lightly, crawling over to the right end of the bed to lie down. Spencer joins you, pulling the covers over you both and taking you into his arms.

"Sorry about that, I don't know what came over me." He says, a little embarrassed for losing control the way he did.

"It's okay, baby. More than okay, actually." You reassure him once again, stroking his damp face with your thumb. "I'm surprised you had it in you." You chuckle, and he does, too.

"So am I. I guess you...bring it out in me." He explains, and you nod in understanding.

"And I take that as a compliment." You say with a sleepy smile. "Did you have enjoy yourself?" You ask.

"Very much. Even more than I thought I would." Spencer says earnestly, making your heart skip a beat.

"Me too, Spence. And I'm so happy you chose me to enjoy this with." You reply, leaning in to give him a tender kiss. This night has been the best one of your lives (so far), and you look forward to sharing many more moments just like this one in the future. Together.

[baigepueckers]

Nika Mühl X Reader

Beyond the Game

The arena surrounds you like a heavy blanket. It’s a sound you’re used to a mix of cheers, whistles, and the squeak of sneakers on the court. But tonight it feels different. Heavier. More personal…maybe it’s because you’re facing the Seattle Storm and more specifically, her.

Nika.

You spot her as soon as you walk onto the court for warm ups. She’s sitting on the Storm bench, her brown hair pulled into a sharp ponytail her posture upright and alert. Her warmup jacket is loose over her shoulders, but you can still make out the slight bounce of her knee a telltale sign she’s nervous. It’s one of the little things you’ve picked up about her over the years, first as teammates and later as something more.

Your heart clenches and you force yourself to look away. You can’t afford distractions tonight.

The two of you met back at UConn, thrown together in the intensity of one of the best women’s basketball programs in the country. It didn’t take long for you to click. Nika’s fiery energy balanced out your quieter focus and her teasing always managed to get you out of your head when the pressure felt like too much. Over time, the late night study sessions and post practice hangouts turned into something deeper. You fell in love…deep and unshakable.

But love didn’t keep you on the same team. The draft came and went, and now you’re a Las Vegas Ace while Nika is across the country in Seattle. Different jerseys. Different cities. Different teams.

You hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be to face her on the court.

The first quarter flies by in a blur. Seattle’s defense is relentless and your team is fighting for every point. You catch glimpses of Nika on the bench, her eyes fixed on the game but every so often, they dart toward you. She doesn’t smile when you glance her way. She doesn’t need to. The way her gaze softens, just for a moment tells you everything.

The second quarter is more physical. You’re battling for position, driving into the lane when you can trying to keep your team ahead. You catch a rebound off a missed shot and bolt toward the other end of the court, the sound of your shoes pounding against the hardwood echoing in your ears. Somewhere in the chaos, you hear her voice…sharp and commanding as she shouts instructions to her team.

It sends a shiver down your spine. You’ve heard that voice a hundred times in practices, but this is different. Now, she’s an opponent.

By the third quarter, exhaustion is creeping in. The game is tight and the tension on the court is heavy. Every possession feels like a battle.. your body aches, but you push through. You always do. You’ve learned that from her…Nika, with her relentless fire.

The fourth quarter is where everything unravels.

You’re running hard, cutting toward the basket…when it happens. A Seattle forward steps into your path setting a blindside screen. You don’t see it coming. Her body collides with yours and the impact sends you flying backward. There’s no time to think, no time to react. The back of your head hits the court with a sickening thud.

Pain explodes behind your eyes, sharp and overwhelming. The world spins and the crowd’s roar becomes distant. You blink rapidly trying to clear the haze but all you can see are the harsh overhead lights and blurry shapes moving around you.

Through the haze, you hear your name.

“Y/N!”

It’s her. You know it’s her.

You manage to tilt your head just enough to see the Seattle bench. Nika is on her feet…her hands gripping the edge of her seat like she’s about to bolt onto the court. Her eyes are wide with panic, her mouth slightly open as if she’s holding back a scream.

She wants to run to you. You can see it in the way her body leans forward…as if the only thing stopping her is the weight of the game and the unspoken rules that keep her on her side of the court.

The trainers are beside you now asking questions you can barely process. “What’s your name? Can you hear me? How many fingers am I holding up?” Their voices are gentle but insistent. You try to answer but your attention keeps slipping back to her. To Nika, who hasn’t moved from her spot even though her entire body looks like it’s trembling with the effort to stay put.

You try to lift your hand a weak signal, something to let her know you’re okay…but it barely moves. She sees it anyway and her hands fly to her mouth, you can see the tears welling in her eyes.

You don’t know how much time passes before they help you to your feet. The crowd cheers as you’re led off the court…though the noise feels distant and strange. Your legs feel shaky and your head is pounding but you glance over your shoulder one more time.

Nika is still standing…still watching. Her hands are clasped in front of her chest now, like she’s holding herself together.

Back in the tunnel you’re taken to the trainer’s room for evaluation. Your head is spinning and the bright lights are making your eyes sting but all you can think about is her.

Your phone buzzes on the bench beside you. You reach for it, fumbling slightly as you try and unlock the screen…It’s a text from her.

Nika💗: Are you okay? Baby Please. Please tell me you’re okay. I can’t sit here anymore.

Your chest tightens and your eyes blur not from pain, but from the ache of knowing how much this is killing her. You type back with shaky hands.

You: I’ll be okay. Don’t worry. Play your game.

The response feels hollow but you know it’s what she needs to hear. You imagine her reading it…clutching her phone like it’s a lifeline.

The game finishes without you on the court. The trainers cleared you from anything serious…a mild concussion, bruises that will ache for days, but nothing crazy. The anxiety in your chest hasn’t eased…you know your girl. You know she’ll be looking for you the second she can.

You’re just outside the locker rooms, every passing second dragging. Your phone vibrates in your hand, and you glance down at the screen.

Nika💗: Where are you? Are you still with the trainers? I’m coming to find you.

You barely have time to respond before you hear hurried footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Nika rounds the corner, her hair damp from a rushed shower and her Storm warmup jacket thrown hastily on. Her eyes are scanning the hallway frantic, until they land on you. She stops for a split second, and then she’s running.

Before you can say a word, her arms are around you pulling you into a hug so tight it almost knocks the air out of your lungs. She buries her face into the curve of your neck, her breath warm and uneven against your skin.

“You scared the hell out of me, ljubav.” she whispers her voice full of emotion. “I thought…I didn’t know if you were okay. I couldn’t come to you. God, I hated it.”

Her words spill out in a rush like she’s been holding them in since the moment you hit the court. You wrap your arms around her pulling her even closer. The tension in her body is noticeable and her hands are clutching at your jersey.

“Baby,” you murmur, your own voice thick with emotion. “I’m okay. I promise, I’m okay.”

She pulls back just enough to cup your face in her hands, her thumbs brushing lightly over your cheeks. “You don’t look okay,” she says, her voice soft. “You’re pale, and your head God, your head…”

“Gee thanks babe” you tease her while covering her hands with your own. “The trainers cleared me. Nothing serious…just some bruises and a small concussion.”

Her jaw tightens and for a moment, she doesn’t say anything. Her hands drop to your shoulders, holding you at arm’s length as her gaze hardens. “Don’t you ever do that to me again Y/N, you hear me?”

You blink at her surprised by the sudden intensity in her tone. “Do what?”

“Scare me like that” she says, her voice sharp but cracking under the weight of her emotions. “I couldn’t move, baby. I couldn’t come to you when you were lying there and it was killing me.”

Her words hit you, the raw vulnerability in her voice. You reach for her hands, squeezing them tightly. “Nika, you didn’t do anything wrong. You were there in the way I needed you to be. I saw you. I felt you.”

She frowns and she shakes her head, a tear slipping down her cheek. “You’re not allowed to get hurt like that again” she mutters, her voice quieter now but no less serious. “I don’t care if we’re on opposite teams. I’ll get ejected if I have to. I’ll run across the court next time.”

You chuckle softly, the sound broken but genuine. “I’d expect nothing less from you.”

Her lips press into a thin line but you can see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners. “You think I’m kidding babe?”

“I know you’re not.”

The two of you fall silent for a moment, the noise of the arena and the post-game chaos fading into the background. She leans down to kiss you, it’s passionate and intense. It makes you melt against her.

“I love you,” she says suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You know that, right?”

Your chest tightens, and you nod, leaning into her touch. “I love you too. Always.”

She swallows hard and pulls you back into her arms, holding you like she’s afraid to let go.

[a1ecmcdowell]

bonnie!reader & clyde!dean - the name of the game, baby!

includes, crime :( but for the good of the people! the sexual tension is high but nothing ever gets done ab it sorry for the edging pt 2 soon tho

★ ˚⋆

times were tough these days. dean hadn't known a moment of peace from the very moment he decided that hunting wasn't doing shit for sustaining him, and, well... when he met you.

he'd made up his mind already that hunting was a deadend for him. as much as it killed him to think, it was. how could you keep up a job that didn't pay you, and expect to stay afloat? he wasn't.

it started with dining and dashing when he could, scrounging together the scraps of change and loose bills in his pockets for better things than something like a meal that he had to have or he'd die. putting money directly into corporate pockets when he'd then be out of a bed for the night was not something that he ever wanted to do.

until he met you. by chance, and by the threads of fate, you wound yourself around his heart and never let go.

he was finishing up the handful of fries on his plate, eyes drifting around the room as the waitresses moved to-and-fro. they hadn't stopped by him in a while, so he figured that he was either safe, or about to get approached and interrogated about another round of beer.

he'd take one, sure, but it'd be added to a tab he wasn't going to pay, so it was in their best interest to keep their noses out of his business.

one of the women catches his eye anyways, and she's making her way over with a noticeable sway of her hips and a swish to her long blonde hair, when-

the bell over the entrance door rings as the glass bursts open. in stumbles you, buttoning up the white blouse you wore without even looking up from it, loose and disheveled hair swaying in the burst of air your entrance caused.

you were beautiful, even in your mess, and even when your mouth opened to beg for forgiveness to a man behind the counter. "sorry! my car is shit, it wouldn't start, and-"

"louise has been covering your ass for thirty extra minutes," the man interrupts, his face stoic and unbreakable. "unpaid. don't apologize to me on your lack of punctuality, apologize to louise."

dean watches the whole exchange from his red-cushioned booth by the window, each second making his eyes narrow further. great. now he was getting a heart about stealing from this joint, just because of the way he now knew you girls were treated here. probably would have to cover his tab yourselves.

he sighs. they can't all be winners.

you're making your way over to him, and at first, with his fry smothered in a slurry of ketchup, he thinks you must be the prettiest girl he's ever seen, and here he is, shoveling down fries like a starved man.

fry drops back onto the plate. the waitress who'd been on her way over to dean is halted by your worried little mouth running all over again. "louise-"

"fuck him. i don't mind a second of it." louise pats your forearm with her hand. "it's not even been busy. he's just a dick. this one's my last."

her free hand lifts to gesture at dean, and he again feels a flush of awareness when louise turns to him, and then follows you. your eyes nearly freeze him on the spot. big and bright. christ.

"no, it's okay, i've got him," you say, and the smile you give to him and then to her does freeze him, ice cold and solid in this shoddy little booth. "you just head on home, alright?"

dean at least tries to look like he hadn't been eavesdropping. drops his head again, picks up that discarded fry from his plate.

"hi, sorry about that," you say around a frazzled sigh when you approach his table, and he can't help but bristle at how many apologies he's heard you utter in the last five minutes, all of them unnecessary. "anything i can getcha?"

he actually cannot stop looking at you. you missed a button three down from your collar, the shirt a bit crooked because of the slip. your nimble hands were in the process of tying your hair up and out of your face, flyaways dancing in the fluorescents of the diner like strands of glitter.

no, he wasn't planning on getting anything else. had cemented that idea the moment he decided he couldn't just steal from this place.

but the thought of asking for the check after only getting a few moments with you... wasn't going to fly for him.

dean lifts the empty glass bottle from the edge of his table. "just another one of these, sugar."

your lips curl something wicked, and he doesn't know why, but he knows that he feels like a teenage boy again, with the way his heart flutters at the sight. "that it?"

"yeah, that's it," and you really are a little minx, not as innocent as the act you give to your boss and your coworkers, because he can almost see the fire brewing behind your eyes, "why, you got somethin' else you wanna give me?"

that usually gets him a flush, bright pink warmth on the faces of the waitresses he says it too. you, though, only seem to brighten at the question. fire stoked. "a piece of my mind, maybe."

"alright, so sit that pretty ass down and give it to me."

you seem taken aback by it for a second, your entire face warming to such a pretty pink. your eyes flit back to the kitchen, and then to the open space in the booth across from him, and slowly, you sink down into it.

"hit me, sugar," dean says, leaning back against the ruby red cushions, "give me a little piece of that mind."

"you were gonna steal, weren't you?" you say, so fast and quick that he's taken aback this time. "when lou was leavin'. you were bankin' on her back being turned."

dean resists the urge to whistle under his breath. what an odd little talent that is, catching crimes before they happen. "nah."

"'nah'," you mimic, and his eyebrows shoot up on his forehead, "i know your type. thinkin' you're some kind of robin hood, skippin' the dollar on big brother."

"i'm not going to, sugar," he insists, more firmly this time, feeling a little on edge by your blasé attitude. he'd expect someone so accurate in their assessments to already have him by the ear, leading him into the hands of the guys with cuffs. "can't make you pay for food you didn't eat, can i?"

"i can afford a beer and a plate of fries, babe," you shoot right back at him, a sickly sweet smile on those pretty pink lips of yours. "i can't afford to sit here and waste my time cracking jokes with a joke."

dean does whistle this time, a scoff of laughter falling from his mouth. "y'think i'm a joke, huh?"

"i think anyone who claims they're doing things to damn the man is." your arms fold over your chest, the blouse bunching up beneath your breasts and pushing them up just enough-- "hey. eyes up here." fuck. "that's exactly what i'm sayin'. all damn the man but you're still a tool."

"that mean you wanna use me?"

this little back and forth was the most fun dean had had in weeks. months, even, if he discredited the cheap nights with easy girls in dirty motel rooms.

"no," you stumble the words out, spluttering them out like they burn your tongue. "i don't even know your name."

"dean."

your eyes linger on his for a few moments longer, like you're trying to assess if this is another one of his lies. you must like what you see reflected back, though, because you smile, slow and languid. "dean."

the silence that follows is short-lived and buzzing. then, your lips part again. "were you really going to dine and dash?" a test. you don't sound mad, or like you're interested in turning him in at all.

his shoulders lift in a slight shrug. "that's just the name of the game, baby." he leans forward with his elbows resting on the rickety table between the two of you. "damn the man, right?"

one second passes, then two, and then you're snatching a fry from the plate in between you, dipping it in the pool of ketchup on the edge of his plate. "there are much more fun ways to damn the man."

notes, WEEEEEE i was gonna do fallen angel!dean first but something ab these two were STUCK in my head hope u dont mind

tags, @jasvtsc @depressionbarbie2023 @figthoughts @titsout4nicholas

(if u wanna be added to this btw / u are supposed to be and i keep forgetting pls know it's not a vendetta i am just a silly lil lady who doesn't know what she's doing ok)

[peppermintquartz]

Buck inhales sharply at the admission. Confession.

What he would have given to hear this before all the hurt and all the pain.

His thigh pumps against the hardness pressed against him, and he has the distinct and vindictive pleasure of seeing Tommy tremble, his mouth falling open on a pleading gasp. That's me. I did that. I did that so easily.

Possessiveness uncurls like a snake, ready to sink its fangs. Keeping his eyes fixed on the chiseled face currently flushed with need, Buck trails a finger around the shell of Tommy's ear, a feather-light touch, and down the wanton arch of his neck, over the darkening bruise of his bite, dipping into the hollow of his clavicles. Then he spreads his hand over the column of Tommy's throat, his Adam's apple resting just above the web between Buck's thumb and index finger.

Tommy bites his lower lip before gasping, his lashes fluttering as he tries to keep his eyes open.

"Look at me," Buck orders. His voice is low and rough.

He waits, counting in his head. It takes five seconds before Tommy turns to look at him.

It's clear who is in control here; Tommy's eyes are so dark that all that remains of his irises is the narrowest band of storm blue around blown pupils. There's no fight at all in his muscled frame. He rides Buck's leg almost mindlessly, rutting against a thick thigh.

He's breathtakingly beautiful in his surrender. Buck wants to bathe in it. But first things first.

"Where's your phone?" he demands.

Tommy gulps. Buck feels the muscles of the throat move under his hand. "Bedroom."

Buck slides the hand around to the back of Tommy's neck and drags him in for a punishing kiss, tasting blood from Tommy's lower lip, and straightens. "Go."

They stumble to the bedroom. Every few steps, Buck feels an overwhelming need to grab Tommy and reel him in, kiss him again or suck on the bruise or grope him through his sweatpants, snarling in pleasure when he feels the wet spot growing. Tommy whimpers when Buck latches onto the bruised spot, testing his teeth once more.

"You think you deserve this?" Buck whispers, skimming his lips up to Tommy's ear. "You think you deserve to be marked by me?"

Tommy huffs. "I already am."

Buck pushes Tommy ahead of him until Tommy's lying on top of his rumpled sheets and Buck is straddling him. The room reeks; Buck remembers with a start what spurred him to drive here and go a little mad mauling his ex.

"Phone," he demands.

Tommy's breathing hard under him, eyes wide and jaw slack. He licks his lips, hesitant, before his left hand slides up towards the pillow.

Buck sees the half-hidden device and snatches it up. He keys in the passcode and unlocks it. The wallpaper is one of them both, from their date at the aquarium, making goofy fish faces into the camera.

It makes something hurt hot and sweet in his heart, but that's not what Buck is looking for. He goes to the chat and finds the voicemail.

"I don't remember sending this," Buck says, then sets the phone down next to Tommy's right ear. He stares into Tommy's eyes. "Let's find out what I said to get you all worked up. Maybe this time I can find out what I should do to keep you mine."

He presses play.

"Daddy." Drunk Buck whispers into the quiet between them. Drunk Buck sounds needy.

Sober Buck presses pause. His ass is grinding slow circles on top of Tommy's hips, and he smiles down on Tommy like a shark about to feast. "Daddy," he repeats, adding a breathy little whine.

"Tell me Daddy, how many times?"

"Yes, Daddy," Buck repeats, almost scornful, even as heat crawls up his spine and over his cheeks. "Give me a number."

"How many times... Am I supposed. Supposed to sleep with someone else... Before. Before I'm good enough f'r you?"

The words sting. Buck rips off his hoodie and grabs Tommy's hands, planting them on his waist. It's gratifying when Tommy's fingers immediately try to dig into him.

"Ri' now is just me. I'm just... Just me. Missing you, Daddy. Miss the way... you'd touch me."

Drunk Buck is too fucking honest. Sober Buck pauses the clip, bends down to kiss Tommy ravenously and uses the chance to wiggle out of the rest of his clothes. Tommy jolts when he realizes what Buck is doing. Buck chuckles darkly. They're already listening to how pathetic he is, he might as well work Tommy up and get a good fuck out of him. He presses play again, sliding down Tommy's body, pulling his sweatpants and briefs down low enough to free his cock.

"Right here, kissing up along my thigh... Your scruff."

Buck gives a demo, watching Tommy twitch and shudder beneath his lips and his cheek and his teeth, watching precome beading from the slit of his erect cock and rolling down his shaft. His mouth closes around the shiny head, the tip of his tongue probing and drawing out more and more of the familiar flavors; the taste makes his whole body shiver. His body remembers. It's waiting to be claimed, again.

His gaze slides up to Tommy's stunned face just as Drunk Buck moans "...you'd look at me, like I meant everything to you."

Tommy is still looking at him like that. A burst of helpless anger floods Buck and he surges up to kiss Tommy again; anything to not see the expression on Tommy's face. Drunk Buck is begging now; Tommy clutches Buck close while he kicks off his sweats and briefs.

"You taught me how to... How to make you happy. Please."

Sober Buck pulls away from Tommy just far away enough to murmur, exactly as broken and desperate, "Please, Tommy."

Oh we are putting Tommy through it with the voicemail and the photos 😆😆😆

Tommy should get drunk and leave a voicemail for Buck next. Quid pro fucking quo and all

I mean...I'm down if you are!

What's the saying, team work makes the two sad blorbos fuck or something? 🤣🤣🤣

[hemlock-dreams]

PleSe may I ask for a tiny morsel of the written word depicting bartender Petey taking care of business when some customers get too rowdy? Saw the "80s theme" and immediately thought he'd look amazing tossing out the trash (ideally covered in blood cause can't make an omelets without breaking eggs but bartenders don't tend to break faces sadly)

Here yo go! Have a snippet from the upcoming Chapter 2 of Pick Your Poison!! Hope you enjoy!!

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

Wade sees Baby Boy snatch a bottle that comes flying at him out of the air without looking. 

Damn, they threw the thing at mach speed, too. Wade’s got to hand it to the kid; those are some impressive reflexes. He follows the easy catch by spinning the glass with enough flair to make a schoolgirl swoon, setting it against the bartop like he’s the main character.

The jackasses in the back don’t even notice, hauling each other over the tables in a messy, drunken sprawl. Wade hasn’t seen this much fumbling since prom night.

It’s embarrassing. He should do Weasel a favor (and indulge himself) by shooting them in the legs for interrupting plans between Wade and his future paycheck. But the look of intense concentration on Baby Boy’s face is distracting. That’s the furrowed brow of a man who is about to fuck around and find out.

Boo. Three more days and Baby Boy would have passed the cutoff mark. 

Wade usually likes hedging his bets on the underdog for the thrill, but four against one is bad odds for anyone who isn’t Deadpool, even a civvie with so many tough-guy tattoos. 

“And he was this close to being the final girl,” Wade mourns performatively, sparing a glance at Weasel to gauge how the man is feeling about the prospect of watching his civilian pet project get snapped in half. But the asshole just looks vaguely amused, which piques Wade’s interest.

So he turns back around just in time to watch Baby Boy march right into fucking around territory, straight up walking toward the group of heavily-armed mercs, no weapons, no foreplay, no nothing– just moxie.

Damn. He’s stupid. Wade likes that in a guy.

“Hey,” Baby Boy says, wrapping a hand around the leg of one wooden chair as the one with a bad haircut raises it over his head. 

Their kerfuffle is interrupted as four extremely drunk mercs with more bullets than brains pause to reorient their attention on Baby Boy.

“You know the rules. Sit down, or take it outside,” He continues, tugging on the chair like he’s trying to take it from an unruly toddler. 

There’s a collective laugh from all four bozos as they forget their beef to unionize against a new, soft, and squishy target.

“Oh yeah?” The short one smiles, revealing a row of really ugly teeth. Wade’s fist immediately itches to plant itself into that mouth, just for offending his eyes like that. “Who’s going to make us, you?” 

The edge of Baby Boy’s mouth curves, “If I have to,” he says, and it can’t be mistaken as anything but a taunt.

Bold move, Cotton. 

The rest of the bar, normally oblivious to a few broken pieces of furniture and some blood, takes notice of the audacity. Wade can practically hear eyeballs turning and the collective bating of breath. 

“That’s cute. He thinks he can take us.” Bad Haircut snickers, drunkenly swaying into the conversation. He gives Baby Boy a once-over, expression turning lewd, “Then again, maybe he can…in one of the back rooms.” 

“He does have bigger tits than most of the girls here,” His unfortunate-looking friend leers, staring at Baby Boy’s admittedly mouth-watering chest. Motherfucker is tall and top-heavy, built like a linebacker, invading the kid’s space like he’s looking for a touchdown if you get Wade’s drift. “Got a pretty face, too. What do you say, sweetheart? Why don’t we go to the back and we can apologize to you real good.”

Baby Boy’s hand constricts halfway into a fist before he forces it to relax. He looks like he’s barely holding himself back, and coin flip on whether this is going to be very funny or very sad, but either way, Wade’s on board to be entertained.

“Yo Weasel,” Ugly Smile calls out, eyes locked on Baby Boy, lurid and alcohol-glazed, “You mind if we take your bar boy for a spin?”

His grin promises an unpleasant time, but Wade isn’t worried. Maggie’s is a shithole for sure, with morals looser than Wade’s jaw, but some things are still too far. Not that it keeps these loser shitheads from defaulting to it when they need to compensate.

“You break it, you buy it,” Weasel replies gamely. Which, dang, cold. Always nice to be reminded why Wade kind of likes the guy. 

Baby Boy’s mouth twitches into a smile, and Wade’s entire body goes on alert, “Take the chair out of my rent, then.”

Ready, set, action. An invisible hand slams the clapboard, and everyone bursts into motion.

The chair in question swings and misses. Baby Boy fluidly sidestepping both Bad Haircut and his buddy, grabbing the support and using the momentum to hook the wooden back over Linebacker’s neck, flipping the chair and twisting both mercs like puppets before sending them crashing to the floor. 

Bad Haircut is scrambling up, but Linebacker is pinned to the floor by his chair necklace, anchored by Baby Boy’s leg as he presses down hard enough to snap the wood and drive the remaining air out of his lungs.

The bigger they are, the dumber they fall. Linebacker is immediately out for the count, but a broken chair is still useful, and Baby Boy is apparently the creative sort.

The snapped leg turns into a baton, and Baby Boy leisurely sways out of pistol-whipping range when Bad Haircut pulls out his gun, dancing back in to drive the splintered wood under the merc’s armpit on the outswing.

Screaming in pain, Bad Haircut stumbles back only for Baby Boy to grab his wrist and haul him forward, twisting his arm in a fancy maneuver that ends up with the gun on the floor and kicked safely out of reach.

Interesting.

Then it’s a pas de deux, with Baby Boy’s back against Haircut’s chest, using the impaled baton as leverage to toss the man over his shoulder and straight into Ugly Smile. 

The merc falls out of the way, only to run into Baby Boy’s fist as it buries deep in his guts. Even at a distance, Wade can hear his ribs break. Doubled over, Ugly Smile is coughing up blood and vomit when a tattooed hand cradles the back of his head and slams his mouth into the table once, twice, three times. Then it’s lights out.

It’s over almost as soon as it began, and as the dust settles, Wade is reevaluating the merits of his earlier bet. 

Yes, they were drunk, but Wade still expected it to be fast, if not messy. He hadn’t been counting on class. He hadn’t been counting on Baby Boy to be the one last standing, let alone to have shut them down so completely it barely merits the paragraph.

And the kid isn’t even done. He’s locked eyes with the fourth guy, jaw flexing like an attack dog straining against its leash, but the dumbass looks like he’s turned over a new leaf and become a law-abiding citizen in the few heartbeats it took Baby Boy to clean the floor with his buddies. 

When the guy doesn’t make a move, Baby Boy leans back, completely relaxed, eyes flat, no sense of triumph in the aftermath, just…disappointment– like he’d been craving something more and been left wanting.

Wade can’t resist a low, appreciative whistle, clocking the way Baby Boy’s entire body reacts to the sound. His head snaps in Wade’s direction, and the whole room vignettes as he stares Wade down, eyes flashing like he wants to crumble his spine like a cookie. 

Lust stabs Wade’s gut all the way to the hilt.

“Changed my mind, Weas,” Wade breathes, feeling the tension drain from the room and right into his dick. “You should keep him.”

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hi, I was wondering if I can ask a request for Eddie Diaz x Female Paramedic Reader smut, where they both can't keep their hands of each other and in means of finding a private place end up in the back seat of Eddie's pick up truck and do some 'things'. I am just dying for some soft Dom! Eddie Diaz smut, thank you.

Yes, yes! Thursday’s episode, I could keep my eyes off him! What a beautiful man!

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) slight dom!eddie

“You’re so pretty,” Eddie tells you as he lies on top of you in the back seat of his truck. His hand travels up your thigh and gives it a soft squeeze as his lips find yours once again.

This has become something you've done almost every single night after your shifts. Since you want to keep what's going on between the two of you a secret, you always end up meeting in a random parking lot when you always find yourselves in the back seat of Eddie's truck.

"No I think that's you," you argue as your hands slide into his hair as his lips find their way to your neck. You gasp as he gives it a rough suck and he chuckles against your skin in response.

"How about we both be pretty then?" He asks before nipping the spot right under your ear as his hands move to undo your bra.

"W-works for me."

"I think this is where you look the prettiest, though," he says, as he tosses your bra into the passenger seat before moving down to your chest, kissing all the way down your torso. "When you're underneath me."

He always knows exactly what to say to get you wet and he knows how good he is at it. You can see it in the look in his eyes. His hand unbutton your pants and he pulls them down, not missing the wet patch on your panties. He's quick to take them off along with your socks and shoes and he spreads your legs wide to get a good look at what he's working with.

"Is this for me? Honey, you shouldn't have."

The teasing was funny at first, but now you're getting desperate. You need him to do something now or you're gonna finish the job yourself.

"Eddie, please," you whine.

"Please what, honey?" He knows exactly what you want, but he wants to hear you say it. He wants you to beg for him, to whine, to cry and then he'll give you what you so desperately want.

"Please fuck me. I need you." Your whining always does something to him and now he's tenting in his pants. He's so hard that it's starting to hurt. He needs to get inside soon or he thinks he might explode.

"Well that was all you had to say. Now relax. I'm gonna take care of you."

You watch him retrieve an condom from his pocket and he sets it to the side as he gets himself undressed as quick as possible before rolling the condom onto his cock. Once he's ready, he doesn't hesitate to fully sink himself inside you just how he knows you like, watching your face the entire time.

It seems that no matter how many times you've fucked, he has to stretch you out every time. He can tell that it's still a lot for you to take in and he can see that you're already crying. He asks if you want to stop because of your obvious discomfort, but you just say not, shaking your head furiously. You're not going to be fully satisfied until you can feel every inch of him.

Once he's fully in, Eddie stays there, seeing just long you can hold out and when you ask him to keep going, he pumps in and out, fucking you fast and hard and deep as his hands pin your wrists to the seat, nothing but filthy words coming from his mouth as he does so.

Your moans are nothing but delicious as they fall from your lips, and mixed with your labored breaths, the windows are fogging up pretty quickly. Eddie has barely even done anything, but you already feel so tired from it all.

"You're starting to slur, hon. Already fucked out, huh? Does my big cock wear you out, baby?" All you can do is nod in response. "Alright, well, give me one more and then I'll take you home. Just one more, baby. You can do it."

Eddie gives you a few more thrusts and you're orgasming, your back arching as you do so. His hands slide underneath you as he talks you through it, encouraging you the entire time. And once you come down, Eddie lays you down on the seat and then he cleans you up with what he has in his glove compartment before he helps you get dressed. He then helps you into the passenger seat before he takes you home where he cuddled you until the both of you fell asleep, wrapped up each other's arms.

[wandaslittlelove]

Obsession

Pairing: Ingrid Thorburn x Reader Warnings: Dark themes!!!! Kidnapping, stalking, Ingrid being delulu.

Currently obsessed with all of Aubrey's characters.

Ingrids obsession for you started like all the others. She had found your account on Instagram and immediately started liking all your stuff. Then she started commenting. Mainly little things asking where you got a shirt or what your favorite item from your favorite coffee place was. Then the following starts.

She sits at your favorite bakery waiting for you to come in and when you do she sneaks little photos of you. Follows you home and sneak in. and then she begins talking to you.

It was in the bakery that she first approaches you. Your getting ready to pay for your items but she quickly steps in and pays them herself. You fumble over your words as you thank her. She thinks it's adorable. From there she gets your number. She texts you every day and you both have even made it a thing to grab coffee together on Wednesdays. She tells herself that this is different. That your different from everyone else. She tells herself that you'll stay.

Ingrid quickly realizes a couple months into your friendship that she's in love with you. From the way you smile when she walks into the room, the way you can make so many people laugh, the way others look up to you, she's in love with it all. She had been breaking into your house more recently mainly when you were asleep. She tells herself its just to make sure your safe. That it's okay because you told her she could come by whenever.

As you lay sleeping one night she grows bolder. Your laying peacefully on your side with your blanket bunched up around you. She walks to the side of the bed and crouches down. Her hand slowly reaches towards your face and brushes some hair away. When you stir she quickly pulls back her eyes wide with fear but she calms down when you seem to settle. Bringing her head up she places a gentle kiss on your head muttering "I love you".

When the new restaurant down towns open up that you haven't been able to stop talking about she decides that's how she'll ask you out. You were basically begging her to take you. Looking at her with puppy eyes that made her melt.

The dinner started out nice. Ingrid was being extremely sweet and even told you she was paying for everything. You tried to argue but she told you that she wasn't going to let you pay. Half way through dinner was when she made a move. She stuttered for a second as she grabbed your hand from across the table. She looked into your eyes and asked you to be her girlfriend. She was so confident you were going to say yes. After all you both were basically already together. She was only asking you to be polite. She wasn't prepared for you to turn her down though. Saying you both worked better as friends. Her hands fell to the side as she clenched and unclenched them. She didn't understand. She thought- No she knew you felt the same way about her. You must just be scared. So she smiled politely and let you think that she was okay with it. But when she walked you back to your car a cloth made it's way over your mouth and nose. Ingrid whispering comforting words into your ear. "Shhh it's okay. Your okay." before you passed out.

When you woke up you noticed you were on a bed. The room was dark and your head was pounding. You groaned as you tried to get out of the bed but noticed something or someone holding onto your waist tightly. That's when you noticed the small breaths on your neck. Your body stiffened as you remembered what happened. Ingrid.. she had kidnaped you. You try to move out of the grip again and go to kick your legs off the bed but stop when something yanks your foot back. You couldn't see because of the darkness but you were guessing she had tied your foot to the bed.

You stiffen once again as feel her move behind you. Her mouth planting a few kisses on your neck as she pulls you back against her.

"Go back to sleep, baby" She whispers as she pulls the blanket higher around you both. Her hand starts rubbing small circles on your stomach as she tries to coax you back to sleep. You didn't understand what was going on or why she was doing this. She had to be crazy you had to get out of there.

[aurossaga]

You Turn my Shield on Me

Venti x gn!reader

Genre: i don't know i just write. no more questions

Word count: ~ 1.2k

Warnings: Mentions of a battle, weaponry

Summary:

He always asked if you'd protect him on your excursions. Turns out, he never needed to be protected after all.

The setting sun is doing little to warm you as you push yourself up from the cold, muddy ground. Your heart hammers wildly in your chest, chasing that rush of adrenaline as the sound of battle stills. Your weapon, dropped a distance away from you in the fray, glimmers mockingly at you as the light catches it. You had stumbled and fallen, but… that hardly matters right now. No, there are much more pressing matters at hand.

You look up at the man standing in front of you. His back still turned your way, an arm reaching out ready to draw another arrow at a moment’s notice. His moves are careful and practiced, practically perfectly honed. You’ve only ever seen aristocrats fight with such elegance and precision before…

Which is why this makes no sense.

“You’ll promise to protect me, right?”

It’s what he always says when you two go out exploring together. Or, rather when you go exploring and he tags along out of boredom. And you had always assured him that you’d never let harm befall him, always promised that you’d be his shield. After all, he was a novice at archery, he claimed. A bow was a difficult weapon to defend oneself with in the heat of battle without exceptional mastery of it.

Arrows still surging with Anemo energy litter the now desolate grounds turned battlefields. Each and every one of them had hit its target. Clean, lethal blows. As you finally catch your breath, remembering to breathe properly amidst your confusion, you see him turn to cautiously check on you.

“Are you alright…?”

…

There are so many things you want to say. So many things you want to ask. Your jaw drops open a few times over, you sputter and stutter and mumble out half-baked words and jumbled sentences until you give up, closing your mouth, and give him a slow, cautious nod. You are unharmed. And it was no thanks to yourself.

Venti watches you for another long moment. His eyes, much more focused than usual, scan you for injuries regardless of your insisting that you are fine. He knows you well. Quickly, that look is replaced by the familiar one you are so accustomed to. One you now doubt the sincerity of, just  a little bit. His shoulders relax and he exhales in relief for a moment before his posture straightens back up, his bow lowering to his side.

“Well, that’s a relief… We sure were lucky these monsters were on the easier side!”

Those words sting a lot more than you expected, though you can’t quite pinpoint why. Perhaps it’s because you know it’s not quite true. Perhaps It’s because you know those enemies hit hard. Fast. Ruthlessly.

And they certainly don’t stall for long enough for an inexperienced archer to pluck them off one by one like that.

And yet…

“You were incredible back there.” The words slip out before you can think to stop them. You’re not quite sure if it’s words of praise or an accusation. His mastery of the bow, the precision in his strikes… You couldn’t wrap your head around it. He said he wasn’t capable of that. That he needed your protection.

He blinks, and for a moment, his eyes shy away from yours, his lips pressed together a bit firmer than usual. Maybe this is what guilt looks like on him. But then he smirks, the easygoing, almost careless expression you’ve grown so accustomed to returning as if it had never left in the first place.

“Really, now? Praise from my most dearest muse, is it? I must fetch my pen at once, lest I mistake it for a dream!”

You’re not sure what comes over you. His words were nothing out of the ordinary from him, he’d tease and poke fun all the time. But… For him to act so casually, so normal after a display like that…

It irritates you.

“You said you were a novice,” you practically snap. “That it was just a hobby.”

“And you don’t believe me?” His tone is light, teasing, but there’s something guarded in his eyes. He steps closer, offering a hand to help you up. You hesitate for just a moment, but you take his hand, only now realizing that those delicate hands that pen the most beautiful prose you’ve ever read are firmer, sturdier than you could recall. Or perhaps you were only noticing now that you knew to look for it. He pulls you up to your feet with ease.

“I… No! Why should I?” you demand, brushing dirt from your roughed up clothes. “I’ve never seen you fight like that before..! Or, at all, for that matter! What was all that?” You gesture to the field littered with arrows and fallen enemies, your eyes never leaving his.

He tilts his head innocently to the side, his smirk fading slightly.

“Does it… matter that much?”

“Yes, it matters!!!” you exclaim, the words spilling out before you have the time or restraint to stop them. “It matters because I trusted you to rely on me! And now I find out you didn’t need me at all?”

There it is. The heart of your frustrations, the reason your chest aches as much as your bruised body. You’ve always been the protector, the shield, someone you wanted him to rely on. To feel safe with. And he’d let you believe he needed you, too. But now that picture in your mind breaks into a thousand pieces, and you both know very well you won’t be able to put it back together, no matter how much you try. You were too smart to believe his words, his deflections.

You hang your head, your gaze falling down to the muddy grounds beneath you. Though you can’t see his face, you can practically hear his emotions in the tone of his voice. It’s… raw. A bit more intimate than you think he intended.

“I never said I didn’t need you,” he whispers, his voice low and even as he takes a step closer. “I just don’t want to stand in the way of your talent…”

He seems almost unsatisfied with his own choice of words. Slowly, his hand reaches out, searching for yours, taking hold of and wrapping around your fingers so delicately as if he’s asking permission.

“...My warrior, you would have had this in the box, regardless if I stepped in or not. I just… didn’t want to see you hurt. You don’t need my protection, but… you have it.”

It’s not quite an answer, and it certainly doesn’t answer as many questions as you would have liked. But, there’s an honesty in his tender voice that makes your heart hammer again. Your lips part, intending by all means to press him further, to demand answers about his skills, his lies…but the words die on your lips as your shoulders sag to match the dejected feeling of reluctant acceptance. You knew better than anyone how avoidant Venti could be when faced with such a direct accusation. You knew better than to press further to achieve nothing.

“...Okay. Let’s go home.”

His grip on your hand tightens, bringing your attention back to the moment. And as you walk home, he doesn’t let go of you even once. His grip is gentle, apologetic, begging for understanding and time to explain what happened today. And, albeit reluctantly, you grant him that grace as your fingers interlace with his.

[stars1997]

I’m here to make a rempe request 🤠 he looked way too good during the stampede. anyway you can write something up where you go there and you bump into him and start dancing and then he goes on to try to win you a stuffed animal playing one of those little corny carnival games.

Rodeo Fun

Paring(s): Matt Rempe x reader

Warnings: Fluff!

_

“Come on!” You say grabbing your cowboy hat off the hook by the front door. Your friend comes hopping around the corner trying to put her boot on.

“Sorry. I had to make sure that my top was on right.” Her foot finally slides into her boot when she reaches the door.

You both rush out the door excitement rolling over the both of you. this is your favorite time of the year. This will be your third year going.

_

You both get out of the car. The crowd to get it is huge, and it only seems to be getting bigger.

“Come on I want to make sure that we get good seats for the show. Preferably next to the bull riders.” y/f/n said grabbing your hand and pulling you into the crowd.

Once you're finally in your in shock at what you see, you always are. People everywhere running around eating, drinking, and playing games. You turn to your friend, and both of you let out a squeal of excitement.

She grips your hand harder and pulls you again. she’s weaving through the crowd of people like a pro. But you on the other hand can’t seem to stop bumping into people.

You look down at your phone to check to time for one second when you run into something hard, stopping you and your friend in your tracks. You look up to see a very tall man standing before you. all this seemed to happen so fast. he turns to look at who ran into him. your eyes lock your mouth falls open to apologies, but no words come out. He smirks at you before you are pulled away by your friend again.

“Come on! It’s starting!” she says to you before turning to the tall mystery man.

“I apologize for her clumsiness, but we got to get going now.” he doesn’t even spare your friend a glance. His eyes focused on you, even as you were pulled away from him. You shake your head a little, almost like you’re breaking a trance.

-

The day felt like it went by so fast yet so slow. You and your friend have done so many things that didn’t even scratch the surface of things you could do here. You were having so much fun. But one thing played in the back of your mind all day, and that was the handsome, tall man that you bumped into earlier.

You and your friend stopped to get a drink before you went to the concert that was being held in a few minutes. you love country music and were so excited to go and dance. Your friend handed you your drink before pulling you along so you would be able to find a good spot at the concert.

When you go there the music has already started. it was one of your favorite songs, so you started singing along, holding your drink in the air before moving your hips to the beat. You turn around to look at your friend but are met with a torso you look up to see the man you bumped into.

“Hi, I’m Matt.” he sticks his hand out for you to shake.

“I’m y/n.” you shake his hand, your hand engulfed in his.

“Mind if I dance with you? I mean, it’s the least you could do after you ran over me earlier.” You let out a laugh. You shake your head, yes. He smiles, looking down at you before turning you around and pulling you back into him.

Your hips moved in sync with the music. his body towered over you. his hand on your hip just felt right. You spent the rest of the concerts singing and dancing with Matt. The sun is starting to go down. Matt took out his phone to text his group that he was going to be taking you to the carnival games. You texted your friend the same thing telling her that you would meet up with her at the ticket booth later. She sends a thumbs-up in response.

You put your phone in your back pocket and look over to Matt who is already looking at you. he smiles at you reaching his hand out to take yours. You make your way over to the carnival games. You pointed to one of the booths, it was the one where you had to toss the balls into the bucket and have them stay in.

“I want to try this one.” You pull him over to it and take out some of the tickets you got earlier handing them to the lady behind the counter. She hands you three baseballs and moves out of the way.

You pick one and get into the stance to throw it. You toss the ball into the bucket, but it bounced out and onto the ground. You tossed the two other balls and they both stayed in. You got to pick out a small prize. Taking the small toy from the woman’s hands you turn around to show Matt.

“Look it’s so cute.” You move the stuffed animal, so it looks like it’s doing a little dance.

“Where too next?” He asks you. look around trying to find a fun game to play next. That’s when you spot the biggest stuffed animal you have ever seen in your life. You let out a shriek and point to the big stuffed dog.

You both walk over to the stand once you are close enough to see it you notice that it is a ring toss stand. You let out a huff.

“Dude ring toss is like the worst.” You say as you turn to look at Matt.  Matt told you not to worry and that he’s got this. He hands the lady the tickets and she gives Matt two big buckets of rings. It didn’t take Matt long to go through both buckets. 

He takes out more tickets and hands them to the lady. The goal was to get one of the rings onto the center golden glass bottle. This time Matt took his time. He made sure that every ring was tossed with the right force to at least hit the center bottle.

He was down to his last few rings. It felt like you both have been standing here for so long. You have watched every move he has made. He was super determined to get you this giant stuffed animal.

You didn’t even notice that he was down to his last ring. He tossed it and it went flying through the air for what felt like so long. But when it landed it landed right around the neck of the golden bottle. You let out a loud cheer catching the attention of one of the workers.

“Congratulations! Would you like the big dog or the big cat?” the worker looked at Matt as she asked the question, but Matt was only looking at you. you respond to the worker saying that you will take the big dog. The worker nods and leaves to go and get one for you.

_

You couldn’t have had a better night. You and Matt spent the rest of the day talking and trying food. He made sure you didn’t have to lug around the big stuffed dog all day. When the sun started to go down, you got a text from your friends that said to meet her at the ticket booth. Matt walked with you to meet your friend. When you got to her, you saw that she was hanging out with Matt’s sister and friends.

When she saw the both of you, her eyes widened. Looking at the big stuffed puppy that you told Matt you could carry now. a huge smile stretches across your face, then hers. You stood and talked with everyone for a bit. Matt standing next to you with his hand resting on your lower back. your friend leans over to whisper in your ear,

“You need to tell me everything.” You nod your head. You say bye to everyone. Exchanging numbers with Matt before your friend dragged you to the car. when you go into the car, you both turn to each other and let out a loud squeal. She starts up the car backing out of the parking spot.

“You know his sister said that he wouldn’t stop talking about you all day after you bumped into him. now tell me everything.” she smirks at you as you talk about what happened between you and Matt.

[slutforwwewomen]

Marked

Summary - speculations of you and Rheas relationship finally come to an end as now everyone knows it's true, due to you walking out to your match with black lipstick prints on your body.

RheaRipley X Fem!Reader

Warnings - Pure Smut, Fingering, Oral (Reader receiving.) Strong Language and all that stuffs yk. 😉

Hope you enjoy! <3

“I think you’re gonna love thisss!” My makeup artist, Amanda, says to me. I told her to try something new, anything she wanted that would match my new gear I was debuting tonight.

As Amanda finishes up, I hear footsteps creeping behind me and then two hands on my shoulders, meaning it could only be…

“Guess who.” I hear from behind me.

“Hmm…I don’t know..Samantha? Liv? Rhea? I mean, I have so many girlfriends it’s hard to guess!” I say in a joking manner, suddenly feeling a hard thump on the back of my neck and the sound of a slight giggle.

“Alright! Finished!” Amanda says.

She spins my chair around, facing me towards the mirror. “Oh my god! Mandy, I love it! Thank you!” I say, standing up out of my chair and hugging her tightly. “Okay, Loosen the grip up, Azmina!” Amanda says, slightly breathless due to my grip.

I let out a small laugh and mumble a sorry.

As I turn around, I’m met face to face with my girlfriend, Rhea.

“Damn.” Is all she says.

“What? You don’t like it?” I ask.

“I more than like it. Makes me wanna fuck it off you.” She says..loudly. My response ends with me slapping her arm and my face turning completely red.

“You look good too I guess…” I say to her with a smirk on my face.

Amanda comes up behind us. “Personally, I’d rather see this than LivDom.”

That sending Rhea and I into a laughing spiral.

Amanda is one of the select few who know about Rhea and I being together.

Everyone knows me and her are super close, but they don’t know the full extent.

Rhea and I have tagged together numerous times, which is where the rumors started at to begin with.

Oh, but that’s not just all!

Rhea is very…touchy. She physically can’t keep her hands off me when we’re near one another, so during our matches, when rhea was helping me up, she’d slide her hand across me someway, or she’d hold onto me, pick me up or carry me out, whilst keeping a certain grip on my…lower half.

Always making sure to touch me.

I’ve always had this attraction to her, I mean…just look at her. How could you not?

“Hey. Come on.” Rhea whispers to me, reaching a hand out for me to grab.

“I need to put my gear on anyways.” I take her hand as she leads me to the locker room. Shutting the door behind her after she lets me go in first.

She turns around, walking slowly towards me.

Slowly inching me closer and closer against the far wall.

As she slowly made her way over to me, her eyes not leaving me, she gently pushed me against the wall.

She placed her hands right beside my head, trapping me against the wall, as she leaned in even closer.

Her breath, hitting my neck. Sending chills down my whole body.

I shut my eyes for a moment before opening them back up, my eyes meeting hers as she hovers over me looking down at me.

“Please” I murmur out, barely even understandable.

“See how I make you feel? See how I’m not even touching you, and you’re just begging me to fuck you?” Rhea says in a low tone.

She gently runs her index finger along my jaw as she whispers in my ear.

"See how you shiver when I touch you lightly?"

She then gently touches a sensitive spot on my neck.

“See how your body is telling me just how much you need me? You just can’t help yourself can you? I mean, all I’m doing is standing over you and you just can’t contain yourself. What’s to be done about that, huh?”

My mouth begins to open, but nothing comes out. I look down at the ground in slight embarrassment. I can only think of one thing right now, and that’s how badly I need to feel her.

“Oh come on…use your words baby. Tell me what you want.” She says as she moves her finger and traces under my chin.

“M-my match. I need t..to put my gear on.” I finally get out, slightly jerking to try to get out from under her.

Rhea's smile widens as she notices my attempts to get away from her.

“Oh, is that what you're worried about at the moment? Your little match? Trust me, that's the last thing you need to worry about right now.”

She grabs my chin, forcing me to look up at her. Her eyes, now intense and full of desire.

“You're not going anywhere until I'm finished with you.”

She moves her hand from my chin to my throat, applying just enough pressure to make sure I stay right where I am.

“And I'm still just getting started.”

My eyes, tearing up from the pressure she’s putting on my neck.

She finally crashes her like into mine. Kissing me with the most passion I’ve ever felt. Her lipstick, still slightly wet, as I can feel it imprinted on my skin. She removes her hand from my neck and snakes it down into my shorts.

I feel her smirk against my lips as she feels how wet I am, her fingers slowly teasing my folds.

She lets out a soft chuckle and breaks the kiss. Starting to leave a trail of hickeys down my neck and shoulder, all while her fingers still work at a painfully slow pace.

I let out a soft whimper, signaling I need her to move faster.

“Be patient darling.” She whispers before biting down gently on my shoulder, her fingers now moving only slightly faster than before.

She pulls back to look at me, watching my reactions while her fingers still rub against my clit at a painfully slow pace.

“Look at you, covered in my marks.”

She leans in, and whispers into my ear again, her voice low and sultry.

“Everyone will know who you belong to.”

She moves her other hand to grip my hip, helping hold me against the wall as she continues to move her fingers, now going at a steady fast pace.

“Shit! Rhea- Fuck! Oh my god- I’m..I’m gonna cu..” I’m cut off by her smashing her lips back into mine. Biting my lip hard and pulling on it with her teeth.

Moans begin to slip out, one after another like a broken record player.

She swallows the moans that slips from my lips, biting down on my lip again as she keeps pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

But then she stops.

She pulls away from my lips and looks at me, a smirk on her face.

“Ah ah ah, not yet…”

Rhea looks down at my legs, wobbly and shaking, barely being able to hold myself up.

She gets down on her knees then looks back up at me, a smirk still on her face as she pulls my shorts and underwear all the way down and hooks my leg over her shoulder.

She presses a kiss to the inside of my lower thigh, slowly making her way closer and closer to my core.

She finally reaches my core and runs her tongue up my folds, teasing me slowly as she keeps my leg over her shoulder.

She repeats this action a couple more times, licking and teasing me with her tongue, purposely avoiding my clit.

She finally gives my clit some attention, flicking her tongue over it quickly before sucking it into her mouth.

I feel her insert her 2 fingers deep inside me. Curling them at a slow but harsh pace.

I let out a loud moan, which almost could be mistaken as a scream.

My body begins to tremble. Knees beginning to give out again.

“You’re such a good girl for me. taking my tongue so well.” She says between licks, her voice muffled against me.

“You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you baby? I want you to scream my name. She gives my clit one last hard suck before pulling away slightly, her fingers still moving inside me, but she fastens the pace.

“Come on, Az, be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?”

And that’s what sent me over the edge.

My eyes stay shut but I can feel her smirk as I cum, she watches as my body trembles in pleasure. I open my eyes and watch her beneath me as she slowly licks up all of my cum, savoring the taste.

She finally completely pulls away from me, picking me and my shorts up and carrying me to a locker, sitting me down on the seat of it.

My body still hot, panting and out of breath.

And I still hadn’t gotten my gear on.

“Rhea…please. I need my gear.” I managed to pull out.

She stepz away from me, reaching into the locker and pulling out my gear.

“You better get dressed fast, baby. You have a match to win.”

I grab my underwear from right next to me, as I struggle to put them on, rhea snatches them from me and decides to take matter into her own hands.

She moves her hands down to your waist, slowly pulling my underwear up my legs, her fingers brushing against my still sensitive skin.

I decide to just push through, I stand up, obviously tired, and put my gear on. Which takes me a whopping almost 10 minutes.

I pull my phone out of my bag to check the time.

“Shit!” I yelled.

As i continue putting it on, I notice the marks all over my body.

Her marks.

Black lipstick imprinted all on my thighs, neck, and arms.

She looks at me and sort of giggles.

“Oops?”

I take of my shirt and bra, putting on my top to my gear aswell.

When I finish with that, I grab the mirror from my bag, looking at my messed up lipstick.

“Really, Rhea?”

“You’re just so hot I couldn’t help myself.” She says, shrugging her shoulders and rolling her eyes.

I hurry up and finish up putting my boots on and then I turn to Rhea again and kiss her.

“I love you. I’ll see you after my match!” I say quickly as I run out of the room as I then go to find Amanda.

I find Amanda and ask her to give me a touch up on my makeup.

She sits me down and begins to touch it up. Wiping the marks on my arms and neck off, but clearly unable to remove the permanent ones that Rhea left.

“I don’t even wanna know.” Amanda says.

I just give her an awkward smile and laugh.

After we finish up, I have about 10 minutes before I go out.

I stand in the back behind the entrance curtain, talking with some other superstars just to pass time by.

Then, it’s time for me to go out.

My entrance music hits and I go out like I normally do.

Rhea and I are currently in a feud with Damage Control, so my opponent for tonight is Iyo Sky.

As I’m doing my entrance, I catch a glance at my legs.

Shit.

I forgot the marks on my legs, and if it didn’t help, I forgot my fishnets that go underneath my gear.

I just continue on with my entrance, making my way to the ring, pretending like nothing is different.

After I finish it, RAW goes on commercial.

Leaving me to stand in the ring for a couple of minutes to prepare.

Of course people in the crowd are going to take pictures, but little did I know that I was in for a rude awakening when I got to the back.

Backstage, Rheas phone was blowing up. Messages from many different people, noticing the black marks left on her “tag partners” legs.

I stand in the ring, awaiting the ad break to go off, but I do notice all the phones in the crowd pointed at me, taking videos and pictures.

See, I wouldn’t think nothing of it unless I didn’t have these marks on my legs.

It’s truly not a bad thing for people to find out we are dating. We have to come out with it soon enough, but i didn’t really take this being the way the fans found out.

The lights come back on and it cuts to Iyo Sky coming out.

After Iyo finishes her entrance, we both stand in our corners and then the bell rings.

Iyo looks at me for a second, not moving, but looking me up and down and then slightly laughing whilst rolling her eyes.

I think I know what she was laughing at.

We put on a hell of a match for the crowd, but, during the match, Iyo puts me in a compromising position…really showing the marks on me as she bends and twists my leg in this hold she has me in.

I’m sure the camera had a direct view of the marks now, but I’m almost 99% positive there hasn’t been a point where there wasn’t already a direct view of the marks.

At the last couple seconds of the match, I hit Iyo with a missile dropkick, the impact knocking her across the ring and me falling ti the floor in exhaustion.

We both get up at the same time, having an intense stare down with one another. She runs the ropes but I end up catching her with a punch of my own.

I decide to do something interesting.

I pick her up, preforming the Riptide on her.

Pinning her, with Rheas famous pin.

1.

2.

3.

The bell rings, and I stand up.

Referee, holding one of my arms up as I lick some of the blood from my lip off with my tongue.

The match goes off air and I make my way to the back, stopping to take pictures with people and signing posters, etc.

And when I reach the back, I’m met with a grinning Rhea Ripley.

“How bad is it…” I ask her.

“Let’s just say we’re trending now, and everyone knows about us.”

She runs her hand down my body until she reaches my thigh, her fingers tracing the red marks from the match and the black lipstick marks she left. She brings her mouth up to my ear, whispering to me and making sure her breath tickles my ear.

“Don’t forget the fishnets next time.”

A/N - HIIII! This is probably my favorite fic I’ve written so far. I hope you guys enjoy it! I had so much fun writing it! All feedback is appreciated lovely’s! 🫶🏻🩷

[ren-144p]

Seconding started with a pin with my whole chest!! That one is SO dear to my heart. Below a few personal favorites to add to the list. Please mind the tags on these :) As mentioned, early Zaundads fandom skewed dark and messy.

the last drop / what was and wasn’t and silco and vander / tales of a knife by revelisms

Last Chance by Blue_Daddys_Girl

There's only one way their story ends, Silco knows. Yet still in their last moment alone together—their first in so many years—he offers Vander one last chance.

it is snowdown by zevlore

It is Snowdown in the undercity, and the snow is soft and grey and slushy, and she is uncomfortable in her skin. Four vignettes into Vander's life.

hit count by ducky (conscious_mess)

An attempt to flesh out their backstory. (Relationship breakdown drabble that got out of hand. Still counts as drabble because they "become sodden by movement through muddy water", so ~nnnyehh~)

Silt Verses by JeanLuciferGohard

Pump 47 is failing. It’s water to their waists now, slick with Fissure-filth and sucking grime. Vander huffs shakily, squinting up the mineshaft like anyone’s coming. “Never thought it’d be like this.” Silco barks a raw, ugly laugh, head lolling back against the rock. “That was always your problem,” he says, “lack of vision.” You learn a lot about a man when you're both about to die underground. Or: Faith is a young man's game. Silco's old before his time. Character Study.

For enjoyers of more light-hearted things, I remember having a great time with these:

Warmth by BiCaptain

The worst part came when her dads came face to face with each other.

The Fluffiest Little Murder Boyfriend uwu by Fiddlezips

Silco is a Yordle. He stands just taller than Vander's thighs, which is a generous comparison. His fur is short, fluffy around his long ears, and grey beneath the dirt. “Zaun Gray” is how he describes it, and his small mouth twitches into a smirk each time.

And for those looking for Zaundads of more smutty variety:

Cage Match by Zkyfall

Life since Silco moved out has been Hell for Vander. Trying to juggle his job with suddenly being primary caregiver for the girls, all while wrestling with the guilt that maybe the separation is all his fault. The stress is killing him and he doesn’t even have his favorite go-to outlet: fantastic sex with Silco. When Vander sees an ad for an app-controlled cock cage, he's intrigued. Finally a way he can get his submission fix, even without his favorite Dom! What could possibly go wrong?

To break new ground by Rimeko

“Now,” Silco adds, “I don’t want your apologies, but I do want your dick. So can we do just that, or do I have to fucking gag you too?” Ahem. Reconciliation sex? Zaundads bingo event: Edging

i'm breakin' a sweat (i think i need some ventilation) by zevlore

“You,” Silco pants, practically gasping for air as Vander continues his assault on his exposed collarbone, hands deftly sliding the rest of his and Silco’s clothes off, “are insatiable.” Silco's been spending too much time working. Vander convinces him to take a break, among other things.

Locked by IAmANonnieMouse (and the following Denied and Freed)

Vander isn’t that strong. If left unchecked, he’s selfish and insatiable, unable to think of anything but his own pleasure. That’s why he needs someone like Silco to keep him in check. To lock him away and throw away the key.

Useless by Fiddlezips

Silco is used to disappointment. After all, his plans—whenever they involve Vander even a little—do have a tendency to fall through.

Unfortunately back in the day I was not utilizing AO3's bookmarks nearly enough so I know I am missing a ton of good ones. New folks should absolutely go out and explore the Silco/Vander tag on their own because I remember there were a lot of incredible fics around these past few years!

Either way, happy reading! It's nice to see the ship getting traction again :)

Anybody want to create a quick quintessential Zaundads fanfic rec list?

I was away for a long time between seasons, so I probably missed a ton but those are some of the longer/meatier ones I remember, particularly one of the more fix-it category.

While the World Turns Around by Blue_Daddys_Girl

In a chance meeting Vander sees Silco for the first time since the fateful day he's come to regret so deeply. Silco has changed—they both have. Vander can't stop thinking about him.

Reconciliation AU by Rimeko

If the cannery scene went down differently, if Vander got thrown into Stillwater with Vi instead of (maybe) dying, and if Silco eventually got them both freed. What, then? What to do with the ruins of what once was? How to deal with love and betrayal and everything that went down in the meantime, and how to move forward.

Stillwater Marriage by Alishatheninth

AU in which Vander does not insist on having one last pipe, therefore gets out of Benzo's shop before Silco has Deckard kill all the Enforcers. Vander decides there's really little to be lost by simply handing the reins to Silco. Silco has to deal with a slightly different set of challenges, and does so in his own, slightly deranged, way.

started with a pin by bloodinthewine

Silco doesn’t expect to find anything extraordinary when he accompanies his daughter to her first Pride parade. Vander, an infamous and experienced leather daddy, finds him anyway. (or The Leather Daddy AU) 

And just some personal favorites of mine that I remember:

underground utopia dynasties and dystopia by leonshardt, which I think is the original prostitute!Silco stories.

Old Griefs and Childrens Faiths by GoddessofRoyalty, an A/B/O story which always made me hope for a parent!trap style story where Powder tries to reunite Silco and Vander

There are some mores that I love, including some smut ones, but everybody please mind that season 1 Zaundad fandom often skewed more dark, messy and angsty.

Anybody else have any favorites? Any other popular fics I missed? If somebody was joining late, what would you recommend to them?

[muppeddie]

Blame it on my DNA

808 coda; Eddie tells Chris about his plan to move to El Paso. It does not go well. Buck is forced into the narrative about it. Ao3

“Hey, Bud. You got a minute?” 

“Uh-uh.” 

Chris’ room is dark. He keeps the curtains drawn tight and the blinds down most of the time. It’s three in the afternoon in El Paso, Eddie knows there should be sun streaming through, bathing the beddings and showing him what his son has up on his walls, if he left his shoes all over the place, if the bed is made.

It must be, though. His mother always used to make them during breakfast.She would serve them and disappear, lighting fast as she drew up covers and fixed pillows before they could be done. 

Eddie used to go back to his room before leaving for school and find the bed made, like magic. 

He’s sure Helena does Chris’ bed, too. Must take her time with it since she doesn’t have three kids at once anymore, too.

“How was the chess tournament?” he asks, coward.

Chris rolls his eyes, one hand picking at the lint on his pants. “It was fine. I got third place.”

A smile breaks out on Eddie’s face. Lips turning up and up, hurting his cheek. He’s so proud. “No way! That’s amazing, Chris.”

“It’s third place, Dad,” he says, deadpanned. Something in Eddie breaks. “Nothing to write home about.”

He settles more firmly against the chair. This time, he’s chosen to take the call from the kitchen. Barren, most of his utensils are already in boxes to be shipped out to some storage room until he can make peace with either selling or taking them with him when he moves.

“Hey. Everything you do is something to write home about. You got some kinda trophy I can bust about at the station?”

Bashful, Chris bends out of frame. The room is so dark; how Eddie worries. He comes up after shuffling around somewhere with a framed letter of participation, declaring him third best in the school chess championship. There is a little brown ribbon printed on the picture. 

“Just this,” Chris says, shy and low. It comes out so thin, Eddie barely hears.

“That’s great. I’m really proud of you, Bud. I mean it,” he says, because Eddie thinks he should hear it.

“Grandpa says we can practice more and I can try the tournament week after next, just not in school. There is like this social center thing… it’s for charity or something.” It’s been months since he heard his kid say so many words at once. Eddie feels choked up about it, just a little. 

He clears his throat before he speaks again. In for a penny. “What if… what if I was there, to cheer on you? Would you like that?”

Chris sits straight in his chair, his head is lopsided but his eyes shine behind his glasses - bright, bright, bright blue. “I guess.” He takes the longest pause in Eddie’s life. “It would be cool.”

“Good.” It propels him forward, an asteroid ready to crash and burn. “Because I’m coming to El Paso in a few weeks.”

“Like, for holiday? Buck didn’t say you have time off.”

“No, no. Not for holiday, uhm…” He wets his lips, swallows around the nerves that have balled in his throat, picks at the linen in his gym shorts, a mirror of Chris. “For… ever? I’m- I’m moving back to Texas, Chris. Saw a new house and everything. We can go check it out together, if you want.”

Chris pales, the blue of the screen casts him in a weirdly off-putting light.

“Not. Not that I’m gonna make you come live with me. I mean, you can do whatever you want, but if you do want to live with your grandparents, I want to be there. For you. I’m not missing the big moments anymore.” 

Eddie gets to the end of his little speech, Chris’ chest is heaving. He reaches for the tablet like it will allow him to reach through the screen and touch, comfort, reassure.

This is exactly why he needs to go back to Texas. 

“What… what about the house? You can’t just sell it.”

Eddie opens his mouth to speak, but Chris is on a spiral. He looks somewhere to the left of the screen, barely catching his breath. “What about your job? Does Captain Nash know? Did you tell Buck?”

Nodding, Eddie replies, his voice a bit higher, a bit firmer, “I did. It’s all taken care of, you don’t need to worry about it, that’s my job.”

“You never do things for me. Just for you,” Chris spats, vitriol and anger right on the center of the keyboard. “You’re always thinking about yourself first.”

And that - that can’t be further from the truth. He needs to know, Eddie needs to tell him. And why is the screen suddenly so blurry? Why is his chest aching? Did someone shoot him again? Right there, in his kitchen?

“That’s not true Christopher. You know that’s not true. I’m…”

Chris interrupts him. “First you leave Mom behind, then you send me away, and now I don’t get to come back home?” He’s yelling now, full-body spasms, his arms shaking. That much stress cannot be good for him. “You promised. You promised.”

“Chris.”

“I don’t wanna talk to you anymore.” The connection shuts. There is only a black screen and the image of Eddie’s red eyes and snotty face. 

He clicks to the right, just below Christopher’s name on his contact history. The tablet rings for about three seconds before the call gets picked up and Buck’s face lights up the screen. He’s at home, on his couch, relaxed in the gray hoodie he keeps for nothing-days. 

If he notices how rattled Eddie is, he doesn’t show it. 

“Hey, what’s up?” 

“I think I screwed up, Buck.”

The expression on his best friend’s face changes, he gets that frown he has when they talk about something big, shifting forward in his seat. “Tell me about it.”