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bunnys-kisses · 1 month ago

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kink-o-ween - day three

lance stroll - toys

cw: smut/pwp, mutual masturbation, sex toys, teasing/dirty talk, lance in love, (slight) jealousy

a/n: come as you are a real shop in toronto, and they're a co-op and very cool! so if you're in the canadian region and want some place to buy special toys. i'd suggest checking them out!

kink-o-ween: formula one edition - call of duty edition

you enjoyed montreal, since you started seeing lance it had become a second city in the way. you obviously knew that it wasn't covered in snow all year, but to see the city in a sweltering heat of late summer was something else. but it was nice, being in the house that lance owned to spend the last days of summer break together.

but you knew that in the final days before the next leg of races, your boyfriend had a surprise for you. it came in a little pink box, unmarked of any logos, but what was inside sure excited you.

"i think most people just have sex." you remarked as you looked to your boyfriend. you were kneeling on the bed you shared all summer with a toy by your knees. it wasn't anything too special, even though the name of it made your ears hot. g-spot vibrator. this was supposed to hit in all the right places.

"i wanted yo try something different." he chuckled as he laid out on the foot of the bed, propped up on his elbow on his side. he was in loose sweatpants and a t-shirt from some promotion, "came all the way from toronto. from one of the best sex shops in the city." he chuckled. as if there weren't a million stores on st. catherines' alone.

come as you are was the name of the place. they were even nice enough to throw in information about how to use the toy and how to clean it. they seemed like nice people there.

"plus, i'm going to be gone soon and i don't need you getting cramps in your wrists from missing me too much." he chuckled, those dark eyes lingered on you barely clothed body.

nothing but panties and a shirt that made his logo stretch across your pretty titties. you looked at him and took the toy off the bed, "i guess i should get you something, so you don't pull something from jerking off so much during off time."

lance sat up and got his shirt off, "just fill a photo album of pretty pictures of you, babe. and i'll be set for the rest of the season." the toy laid between you two as you got undressed.

it felt weird to lie back with your legs spread out, practically in your boyfriend's lap with a pink silicon toy in your hand. you made eye contact with him before you slowly rubbed the toy up against your pussy. when you managed to get it on you felt your breath hitch in your throat.

lance was laid back at the foot of the bed his legs on either side of yours as he stroked his hard cock. this was a sight to see. his precious girlfriend, the one who he adored. he couldn't stop talking about you most of the time, now you were sinking a pretty toy into your sweet pussy.

while this wasn't traditional sex, it felt really good. your cheeks heated up as you moved the toy in and out of you. the vibrations made you nipples hard which only made lance's mouth water.

"how does it feel?" he asked as he continued to stroke his cock, "you look so good." he chuckled, "i hope he takes care of you while i'm gone. keeps you nice and busy while i'm winning for us."

you smiled a little, hiding your face with your other arm for a moment, "it feels good. i haven't had a sex toy since we started dating." you had fond memories of a lovely rabbit toy that you bought cheap in college. you peeked under your arm and said, "you became my favourite toy after that."

he chuckled before he spat in his hand and continued to stroke his cock. well, weren't you the romantic. he asked, "ah, so i guess i should toss it out then. don't want any competition."

you smiled at him before you let out another moan. you curled into yourself a little as you continued to work the toy against your g-spot. it made your toys curl. you replied, "no, no. sadly, as lovely as this toy is. i can't spend late nights talking to it, or have it cuddle me. it's a fat cry from you."

he leaned a little further back, bracing himself with his other hand while he pleasured himself. you looked beautiful. how your lips moved when the toy hit the right spot, how you jolted when you pulled it out and rubbed it against your clit. it was cute almost seeing you kick out your legs from the vibrations against your clit.

you could only put it on par with the time lance blew on your achy clit after what felt like hours of over-stimulation. it was the only time you almost kicked your boyfriend.

the two of you continued to pleasure yourselves. the toy felt really good, it was good quality that made you toys curl. you didn't want to think about the cost of it. lance liked to spend his money on you, something that made you frown. you didn't want to be the girlfriend who mooched off her successful man. but that was neither here nor there as you rubbed the toy up against your clit once more. stimulating and making your body grow more tense.

you could feel lance's hungry eyes on you as you dragged the toy back inside of you. allowing it to pleasure you in other ways. you moaned, "fuck, lance."

he chuckled softly as he felt the sweat on his neck from his own motions, "that's what you better say when you're playing with yourself." his voice was tinged with a little envy. but you only blushed more, you were the last person that would ever cheat. you were such the perfect girlfriend that lance could only get jealous of silicon and wiring.

you smiled at him, "don't worry, you'll both be called lance." you arched your back a little at the feeling. the pleasure was deep in your gut and moving through your blood. it left you feeling needy all over and you continued to pleasure yourself.

"you're such a-" he beamed at you.

you replied, "whatever you may call me, i'm still yours. through and through. and no little toy could ever prevent me from loving you. when you come back home, he'll be put back in the drawer. because i'll be too busy having the real thing." you then let out a sweet moan which only enticed your boyfriend more.

that was what he liked to hear. your love for him. it was something he yearned for at all times. he wanted to feel his beloved in every way he could have you. if he didn't give you the love and appreciation you deserved then he'd be a fool like no other. why fuck up perfection.

he held onto his cock a little tighter, pre-cum drooled all over his fist and he continued to masturbate in front of you. he drank in the sight of you like fine wine. you made his cock leaky and painfully hard, the sight of you pleasuring yourself.

"i love you." he said.

"i love you too." you giggled, your legs tensed up as you felt pleasure start to really circulate through you. you could feel your boyfriend's hungry gaze across your body. you wanted to shy away for a moment, but the intensity of his gaze on you made you excited.

you liked how lance looked at you, you didn't often feel like a goddess for worship (why would you?), but in the quietness of alone time with your boyfriend. you felt as beautiful as marble statues in a museum. a softness that could only be created with such delicate craftsmanship.

"you're beautiful." he said, "you better send me photos every day. doesn't even have to be of you naked. i just want to see you. you're my good luck charm." he attributed his better performance on the track to you being around him. when you hugged him and kissed him, you got your good luck all over him. you found it endearing, just like many other parts of him.

you tensed up a little more and felt yourself reach the peak of your climax. there was something different about getting to that high on your own. while lance did amazing work when he pleasured you. you knew your body better than he could so there climax was different. you arched your back a little and let out a sweet moan.

it only spurred your boyfriend to keep pleasuring himself as you rode out your orgasmic high. the sight of you was hot and left himself needy. he groaned at the sight of you climaxing. and he soon followed. he came all over his fist, cum dripping down his hand as he felt the tension course through him. when he finally relaxed and shakily exhaled.

"holy shit." he panted.

you chuckled and took the toy out of you. and laid there out on the bed. you drifted off for a moment and heard the tap run in the bathroom. but it wasn't long before you felt movement on the bed and when you opened your eyes, you were met with your boyfriend's big brown eyes looking down at you. he tossed the toy off the bed to be cleaned later.

"hey!" you said as he crowded your space.

"now." your boyfriend said as he kissed at your jaw, "let's see if i can one-up that toy." he rubbed his hardened cock up against your thigh, "don't want to get replaced."

you kissed him on the lips and said, "hmm, i don't know. it really did feel nice against my g-spot."

he licked his lips, "well then." he got between your legs and threw your ankles to your head, exposing your soaked cunt to him. he kissed at your slit and said, "i guess i better start now." <3

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disneyprincemuke · 10 months ago

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oscar's logan's girl * ls2 op81

oscar truly never thought he would ever see the girl that was the cause of his first ever heartbreak

pairings: logan sargeant oscar piastri x fem!reader

notes: first of all, i want to thank everyone for liking the first part to this huhuhu i PERSONALLY think this is one of the fics i've written for an individual driver that has gotten this much feedback and responses... i never thought, in the 6 hours it took me to write that, that people would even like it so much... thank you for the kind words u guys <;/3

and now i would like to apologise if this did NOT go the way you thought it would... i couldn't bear hurting either logan or oscar, and holding grudges seemed like such an unlikely thing for a man of oscar's caliber... sorry if it doesn't go the way you thought <;/3

word count: 2.3k

(oscar's girl) // (f1 masterlist)

you let out the heaviest sigh, clutching onto the almost empty mercedes cup in your hand. you look over your shoulder, watching lily and carmen walk away without you in the direction of where the boys would be.

you stare at the unfamiliar, yet somehow most familiar, pair of brown eyes boring into your own. in the back of your mind, you remember the hushed giggles and how his hand used to feel in yours while you were in the streets of melbourne. you can almost remember what he sounded like when you were just kids, and the man that stands in front of you barely looks like what you remember of him.

you were devastated when you lost oscar's phone number. when you moved away to inevitably stay in the united states, you had every single intention of keeping the friendship with oscar. you just needed a week of settling in. you barely made any other meaningful friendships worth keeping in melbourne; all except the one that you had developed with oscar.

arguably, you could have done more to find him again. you could have gone on instagram, or any other social media site to try and keep the friendship alive. but you thought, after all those tears you shed before your departure, it would be better to stay away.

you only ever thought of oscar once in the past couple of years. the night before your first date with logan: you couldn't fall asleep from the nerves and anxiety. you had gotten along well over the phone, the williams driver playing his cards right every single time he would send you a text message and had your cheeks hurting from smiling too much and kicking your feet in the air.

you came across pictures of you and the young boy in melbourne, tucked away in a dusty photo album that you kept stored under your bed. you don't reminisce much: the memories you had up until you were 16 are a blur in your head. too much had happened, and the only memory that you keep with you is the fact that you moved around more than the average person.

"it's been a while," you finally speak, readjusting your shirt. the wet patch on your shirt, now slightly cold from the weather, your jacket doesn't really do much now to keep you warm. "how have you been?"

you can physically see the gears in oscar's head turn. his eyes bore into yours as he contemplates what he will say to you. if this had happened sooner after you had stopped talking to him, he would know what to say to you. because he spent his nights, and logan's mornings, talking about what he would say to you.

oscar presses his lips into a thin line. he has two choices now: unload the frustration he's forgotten about as he grew into an adult, or just be civil with the girl he could have sworn was the love of his life at 14. you never left his mind, even after all of these years, up until the moment that he met his now girlfriend, lily. he's a firm believer that you would have lasted forever if you had just stayed.

"i've been good. i'm a race car driver now," he smiles, gesturing to the paddocks around him. he's just going to try and ignore the fact that you're dating his literal best friend. "i told you."

you throw your head back with a laugh, making oscar drop his smile in the slightest of ways. he feels his chest close in on itself at the sound you're making. sometimes he fears that he'd never truly gotten over you, but that seems more like an overreaction in normal circumstances.

oscar wasn't aware of the fact that it could very well be the truth right now.

"you always did tell me you're going to be a racer," you agree with a smile. you remember going along with him to an obscure go-kart establishment once when you were growing up. it simply wasn't your thing, but you supported him through and through even as a young 14-year-old. "small world, huh?"

oscar nods with a small smile. "so, um. what happened?"

you tilt your head. "what do you mean?"

"you stopped answering my text messages out of the blue one day after you moved," oscar laughs softly, shrugging. "did i do something wrong? what happened?"

you sigh, closing your eyes as it hits you. there is something about the way his eyes are turned down slightly, and it doesn't take a genius to tell that he's trying to smile through whatever emotion he is feeling.

and you understand it if you were to put yourself in his shoes. it's genuinely all on you: you had promised that you wouldn't drift away from him before you left. you promised him, back then, that there would come a time that would bring you back together to give your relationship a fighting chance.

keeping in contact was very essential to that promise.

you don't think of oscar. but now that you do, you can see the scene of when you were about to leave playing vividly in your head. he had asked you for one simple thing: not to drift away so that someday, you can meet again and give yourselves a real fighting chance.

because realistically, at 14, there was not much to fight for but the overwhelming surge of emotions you have for something that is often categorised as puppy love.

but oscar knew even then that there was definitely something more.

"i dropped my phone in the lake. i got a new phone and a new number," you whisper dejectedly, trying to avoid the intensity of his stare. and you're prepared to receive the brunt of his anger, understandably so after you had unintentionally ghosted him. "i'm sorry. in hindsight, i should have done more to reconnect with you - social media is powerful, after all."

oscar nods, his lips pressed into a polite smile. though you can notice him clenching his jaw as he tries to force himself not to cause a scene in such a public setting.

a setting where your boyfriend, his best friend, would be involved. and his girlfriend who doesn't deserve this type of scandal tied to her name.

"we were just kids," oscar shrugs. but there's a bitterness in his mouth that he cannot ignore for too long. there is a bubbling urge from the deepest part of his gut to scream at you for all those days he swore he was going to go crazy from the pain of suddenly losing you. "i was bummed, though, when i lost you."

bummed is an understatement. the degree to which he grieved is unspoken between him and logan.

he doesn't blame logan for being overprotective of him when lily started to come into the picture. he was sat down by the american, by the sidewalks during their morning run, asking him to think long and hard about this.

it's the only time they had spoken of the instance that oscar almost lost himself. oscar waved off his concerns and said he was sure of what he has with lily, and that's a decision that he is still very proud of.

"i was devastated. but i was also scared," you whisper with a smile. "we were 14, but what i felt for you at the time... it was bigger than us, oscar. we had no fight against something like that."

oscar smiles. "logan is good to you, i hope?"

"we only just got together a couple months ago," you nod, "but he is amazing."

oscar nudges his head towards the direction that lily and carmen had walked towards earlier. you hop off your spot to catch up as he starts to walk by his side. "i've got a girlfriend of my own now. her name's lily too."

"doesn't that get confusing when you're all together? with alex's girlfriend and yours?"

"sometimes. but we don't hang out with the older drivers often," oscar admits with a scrunch of his nose. you have to bite back a laugh at his habit, seeing that it's something that has never left him. "it's a bit awkward. logan and i are typically together more often than not."

"how come?"

"we've only got each other," oscar shrugs. " we met at a karting race when we were really young. we kept in contact when we were apart. i think i may have told you about him a couple of times - my best friend living in florida."

you purse your lips, trying to rake at your brain for a time that oscar said that to you. unfortunately, your memory doesn't go that far back into the details of what you had. "wow. there's a lot i must have forgotten. i didn't know you went way back."

oscar smiles. with the little bit of resentment he has towards you, he completely understands (at his big age) why you don't seem to remember it as well as he did.

which is why he hated that he fell in love with you. he had made you his world and the meaning of his life, causing him to fall apart and crack at your goodbye.

you were an integral part of his life, but he was just a sliver of a memory in one of the places you had stayed in for a year or two. it had taken a while to start seeing it the way he does now. he hated you for what you did for years until everything started to fall into place for him in his head.

suddenly he understood why you were hesitant to befriend him in the first place. it must not have been easy to keep leaving friends behind.

"nah, it's alright. if i had such unstable environments like you did growing up, i'd have turned out much worse than you," oscar laughs. "did you move again after you moved to washington?"

you nod again. "one more time. we moved to la after three years - you know my dad. but it wasn't as severe as moving end to end of the world from australia to the united states, i guess."

"ba- oh." you calmly turn to the side, beaming when logan approaches you with confusion on his face. "i was looking for you all over the place. lily and carmen told me you ran into an old friend?"

logan had noticed oscar before you, the bright papaya orange that oscar sports all year around is not easy to miss. "i see you met oscar! what a coincidence."

"yeah, we," you laugh, rolling your eyes playfully as you meet him halfway, "funny enough, babe. we used to go to school together. in melbourne when my dad had business there when i was younger."

oscar presses his lips together, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocks back and forth on his feet. he knows it won't take long for logan to complete the puzzle.

"oh?" logan furrows his eyebrows at you, one hand on your back protectively. "small world. oscar's actually my best friend - he's on the family fridge back in florida."

"yeah, he mentioned!" you beam, wrapping your arms around his. "who would have thought that the oscar you keep talking about is the same one i know?"

logan smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "right! so this is my guest for the weekend, man. my girlfriend - we met over the winter break. i can't believe you guys go way back! this makes it so much easier, doesn't it?"

oscar wants to run away. doesn't matter where, or how he will get there, because all he can focus on is the way you're leaning into logan's touch and the way logan's smile is so bright that it could be seen by the stars.

you clearly just had that effect on people. he's just another one of those people who fell for the welcoming aura you emit.

"did you guys know each other well?" logan asks.

oscar shares a glance with you. but he knows logan, more than you, perhaps. if logan finds out the history that you share, he will not be able to live with himself. he would leave you, leaving all three of you devastated.

so as you open your mouth to respond excitedly, oscar speaks over your mutter. "not really, just had a couple of classes together," oscar lies with a smile. he reluctantly settles for logan's excitement instead of your confusion. "we bumped into one another, i thought she looked familiar."

"oh, yeah! have you got an extra shirt i could borrow? i spilled coffee all over my top," you laugh, pulling down the zip of your jacket slightly to show him the patch.

"mate, i need to go and find lily," oscar says, reaching out to pat his friend on the shoulder. "i'll see you tonight. dinner afterwards, right?"

truthfully, he wants to ditch it. but you were both 14. it's not fair to keep holding it against you when all the odds were stacked against you both.

"absolutely. i'll see you tonight, man," logan smiles, waving at him as he walks away.

he can briefly hear your conversation as he fought all urges to turn around and glance at you.

"are you sure you want to borrow my shirt? i've only got my williams team shirts in my driver's room. i can ask someone to go out and find you one, if you'd like."

"no, of course not! i want everyone to know i'm with the williams driver, you know? announce it to the world."

logan sounds so into you, and he can't fault him for that. you've got a way with people that just reel them in. he should know - he was one of those people that were wrapped around your finger.

oscar's girl, as logan would tease during karting when he was resigned to a corner to text you after the race.

but in his head, you will always be his girl, because that's what he used to call you. that's the memory of you that will live in his head forever.

@myxticmoon @fangirl-dot-com @f1enthusiastsstuff @barnestatic @ladywhistledownx @holy-macncheese-balls @lightdragonrayne @almostjollypizza @sleepybrokenmelle @flyclaren @sagestack @de1u1ugyal @starssfall @cherry-piee @cstads-blog @renarots @strrgirlxqs @uuoozzii @bringbacktim @esposamultifandom @ssprayberrythings

#THIS IS #SOOOO #???#sucked imo #anyway #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1

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rishiguro · 1 year ago

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SAKUSA swiped his thumb over the album, eyebrows furrowing as he saw how the dust clung to his skin, leaving behind a clean trail on the cover. he couldn’t believe he let it get so dirty. there was a time where he picked it up practically daily — mostly because you insisted on it — and looked through it, a slight smile appearing on his face as he did so.

but now you weren’t here anymore. there was no one to force him to look at the pictures, reliving year-old memories. honestly speaking, he completely forgot about it until today, when he decided to finally clean out your night table.

although right now, he wished he hadn’t done that.

his fingers trembled slightly as he opened the album, immediately being greeted by your handwriting and a picture of the two of you on your first anniversary.

you had gifted him this album one day, writing a long letter on the first page of the album. back when you were together, sakusa loved to pick up the album (mostly when you weren’t looking) and read it, his heart warming with every word. but today, he hurriedly turned the page.

his heart grew heavier with every photo he looked at, remembering every second of your relationship and reliving every little memory that you made.

you looked so happy, just like he did. you were so happy together.

and now you were gone.

he continued looking through the album, the sad smile on his face slowly disappearing, making room for a deep frown.

he shouldn’t be doing this. he shouldn’t be looking at your old pictures, reminiscing about the past — times that were long gone, destined to never return.

after all, you left him. and here he was, longingly gazing at pictures of you, like you were just gone for a business trip or a holiday. like you would open the door to his apartment in any second, greeting him with your warm smile and in a cheery voice before you would fall into his arms and kiss him so lovingly.

but these times were over, and they have been over for a long time. he hasn’t been so happy like he was in a long time. not since you left him.

for a moment he clenched his eyes shut, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths.

he should just throw that away, just like he wanted to get rid of literally everything that you had left in the drawer. a bracelet you had bought that matched his, a few hastily written notes with a few reminders. a pack of painkillers that you got because you knew he was prone to migraines.

and even though it has been so long, he found himself unable to do just that. he clung to these remnants of you, of what you used to have, like a child, unwilling to leave their stuffed animal and carrying it around with them.

he knew it was irrational to hang onto the album. he could never go back to those days, he could never relive those moments, he could never be with you anymore.

it was over. and now these pictures were only fading memories to him, a reminder of a past time that he would never be able to go back to, happy moments he would never get to relive.

you were a fading memory.

slamming the photo book shut, he clenched his jaw, rapidly throwing it back into the still open drawer on the nightstand, before also it shutting it, telling himself to forget about it.

nothing more.

but if you were really nothing more, if you really didn’t mean anything to him anymore, why was he still clinging to the last pieces that you had left behind?

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misscinnamonroll16 · 9 months ago

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Brozone headcanons

Clay and Floyd are the stunt men now that they're adults. Clay's always been a little bit of a daredevil, Floyd already died once, why not live a little.

Clay is nocturnal, like the rest of the Putt-putt trolls. His bros throw his sleep schedule off so when they're hanging out, it's not unusual for Clay to just be passed out somewhere or on someone. If they can, they get Clay to bed so he can properly sleep. If not, everyone's volume goes low.

Both Floyd and John Dory took bartending classes. And by took I mean, Floyd just so happened to be sleeping with a bartender who taught him some things. When making drinks, John's proper about it, Floyd is kind of messy. Floyd's over pouring and spilling.

Clay's handwriting is like a nice print. It's easy to read and looks good on paper.

John Dory is good at photography. He mostly uses this skill for taking nature shots but he's gotten good at candid shots of his brothers. He doesn't let them know about these pics bc they don't look the most photogenic but they look like themselves and that's what John loves to see.

JD has dimples

John Dory almost always has at least one weapon on him.

The brothers think JD has a death wish bc he's constantly going after animals that could literally kill him. "John! Don't touch that, it'll tear you to pieces!" "Psh, whatever. If we weren't supposed to pet it then why does look so fluffy?"

Floyd doesn't go into detail about his past. He'll tell snippets here and there but avoid questions. For one, because he's a bit embarrassed about it. He did a lot of things he isn't proud of, drugs, sleeping around, and drinking. For two, he knows that his older brothers still see him WAY younger than he actually is (like how they still see Branch as a baby) and it would just shatter that mentality. And he doesn't want to do that. For three, it's WAY more fun for him if they don't know and have to keep guessing. Floyd has heard them trying to figure out what he spent the last twenty years doing and starts fucking with them.

John Dory definitely has pictures from even when he was a baby and such. Even ones with their parents but he tries to keep those ones tucked away. Branch is going through them when he finds a picture that has been folded in one of the sleeves of the photo album. It's a picture of John and Bruce and their parents. JD quickly snatches the photo and shoves it his vest. Those people looked like strangers to Branch, that picture probably being the first time he's seen them

The brothers know they didn't have a good childhood but John did his best, despite being pretty much a child himself.

John Dory man spreads no matter who he is sitting next or if he's just sitting in a chair.

John Dory wears the one glove to hide an incredibly deep scar. He got into some trouble with some bounty hunters and needless to say, they drove a knife through his hand. He doesn't want his lil bros to know or worry about it so he hides it.

All the boys (like most trolls) are fuzzy. JD and Bruce have the most prominent facial hair and chest hair. They all have leg hair, arm hair, under arm hair, and a happy trail.

Clay and John have the Blond™️ gene (that's how I'm referring to it) where their hair goes through changes. That's why their hair is so much different from when they were kids. In the summer while spending a bunch of time outside, JD and Clay's hair gets lighter, Clay being a light yellow and John being a soft teal. The others convinced them to do one of those 'take a picture every day for a year' things and make it into a flip book to show how their hair changes color.

The boys really wanted a sister. John jokes that they kind of got one with Floyd

Floyd and John Dory are good gardeners. JD briefly grew his own food and Floyd just has a natural green thumb (not that John doesn't)

Floyd gets random nosebleeds

#trolls #brozone #trolls john dory #trolls floyd #trolls clay #trolls bruce #branch trolls #trolls headcanon #trolls headcanons #brozone headcanons #brozone hcs

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sensitivehandsomeactionman · 3 months ago

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350 fans attended. 10 fans per table. Buffet style. It took a long time for us to all get our food, pick a seat and sit down. 10 minutes later, Jensen and Steve walked in and greeted all of us from the stage.

Jensen started by explaining how they got this panel idea: because he often gets band related questions in panels and he feels bad about it sometimes, because not everyone with him is involved and they couldn't weigh in. (He jokingly lowered his voice)"Jared", and he doesn't want anyone to feel left out. And also, the only person(s) who could answer Radio Company related questions are either him or Steve. So they got the idea of doing a panel specifically for music related questions together and since we are in Texas, BBQ!

How do they collaborate with each other? Jensen said Steve is the more musically talented of the two, he is the one who could read music and communicate with professionals and explain what they need. Jensen just, he considers himself as having sharp ears. He might not know what exactly something was called but he knows when something just sounds right (or wrong), just by listening to it. And Steve is the one who enriches and develops from his hunch, and communicates with other professional musicians to work on them. Because, Jensen admits, he does not have the vocab of all those technical terms.

They did a little demonstration with guitar, Jensen strung a simple tune and gestured to Steve, and Steve was like, "You want me to do it here, now?" but he picked it up and made it into a much more complex melody and Jensen laughed, "now you are just showing off!" Steve mentioned it's like Jensen's "acting stuff" and Jensen fake astonished like, "Acting STUFF?" And Steve was like, How would I know what you do? All I know is you were always off busy doing your...stuff!

City Grown Willow. It's a song Steve wrote as a gift to a couple of his friends 10 years ago. The husband was from Colorado (cowboy) and wife from LA. They had split up now but they were a great couple. And the song was just kind of put on the shelf after it was written. One day Jensen and Steve were trying some music together, and Jensen asked Steve if he has anything that's already baked. Steve said you know most of my stuff already! You were there when I wrote them! Then he suddenly remembered, oh there is this one...and afterwards Jensen was like, can I have it? And that's how it came to be.

How did they first start? They were both from Texas and became friends in the good old days. Early 2000s they were roommates in Vancouver and Steve sometimes recorded at home. When he was recording his first album, Jensen walked in and was like, what is that? I love the song. He casually sang the harmony and Steve was like, I didn't know you could sing? Jensen was humble about it and said something like, Yeah I could carry a tune now and then. But Steve was so impressed he insisted for Jensen to record it properly right there. Well they were at home anyway so, no biggy? And Steve ended up using Jensen's harmony for that song in his first album. And it went from there. They've collaborated together and developed more than 50 songs now.

Austin summer! Hhh Steve is an Austin local. He said every year he gave a birthday concert. It's a small gathering, just for friends. And this year is the 10th anniversary and everyone was like, Steve, could we do it anywhere but Austin for this year? August, too hot! And he was like, well, yeah, all right. And then Jensen called, and his 10th anniversary concert was still held in Austin! Last week. Jensen said, Well, it was meant to be! Also Jensen: I used to live here! Austin is great! But not in June, July, August, and sometimes throw in September too. Never liked Austin summer, and why did creation choose August I have asked this question for a year now.

Fans asked him what he misses most about Texas and he said, I don't? I am still here all the time. I am here now, I was here a few weeks ago and then a few weeks before that. My whole family's still here my mom and dad are in Dallas I often visit them. So I kind of... I didn't catch what he said after that but I got the idea that he thinks of himself more like commuting, instead of permanently moved out.

They mentioned an Easter egg they put in one of their songs, they used the exact same letters for 2 sentences and they were really proud of it and high fives each other all excited afterwards. I think it might be All Our Own but I'm not sure. Maybe someone else remembers?

The new song Home on the Road Jensen was shooting Rust in New Mexico and rented a small house next to the Rio Grande river. It's quiet and out of the way and he walks on riverbank trail on his day off and loved it. When Steve visited and they tried to hum a tune out and once they got it, the first words came out of Jensen for that tune was "home on the road". Just like that little house, his home on the road. Both him and Steve travel so much for work, it resonated. And they wrote the song. They said it's not polished yet but they sang it for us anyway. The tune reminded me of City Grown Willow. I think it'll become my new favorite.

If they were invited to perform in ACL festival will they go? Jensen: No!! Steve: Ugh definitely? Jensen: So here is your answer. Steve will drag me kicking and screaming to there. They laughed so hard and then Jensen said, no any time you have a chance to perform in that capacity, of course you go.

Talked about Kaleo and JJ. J2 and JJ are friends and they get together whenever JJ visits and they'd love to collaborate together if ever get the chance. This is all I could recall!

#Jensen Ackles #Steve Carlson #Radio Company #Radio Company Texas BBQ 2024 #austincon 2024 #creator: hanmeicui #thank you for sharing this amy cui <3 #i tried to transcribe exactly as it was written #long post

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adverbally · 1 month ago

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Here Comes the Really Scary Part

Written for the @steddie-spooktober day five prompt “‘Did you hear that?’” | wc: 747 | rated: T | cw: none | tags: making out, suspense, scary movies, Wayne Munson cameo | title from “It’s Terror Time Again” by Skycycle (from the 1998 cinematic masterpiece Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island)

———

Steve will be the first to admit that his hearing isn’t the best. It amuses the kids to no end, since it makes him easy to startle and allows them to conspire with Steve right there in the room. Robin complains that she can’t whisper to him and that his attempts to whisper back are always louder than he thinks.

His hearing is especially bad when he’s distracted. Like right now, sitting against the wall behind Eddie’s bed, with Eddie straddling his thighs and kissing him with a single-minded determination. The stereo is playing one of Eddie’s newer albums, one Steve can’t tune out as easily because he isn’t familiar with it yet. Plus the wind is whipping outside, whistling past the windows and sending tree branches knocking against the roof of the Munsons’ new house.

Still, somehow, beneath all the other noises rattling around in Steve’s brain, he catches a loud slamming sound coming from outside.

It’s a Herculean effort to pull away from Eddie, but Steve manages, asking breathlessly, “Did you hear that?”

“No.” Eddie barely takes a second to respond before he’s diving back in and licking the backs of Steve’s teeth.

As much as Steve tries to refocus on the beautiful man grinding against his lap, now he knows what to listen for. That’s probably the only reason why he hears what follows— a series of rhythmic thumps, quieter than the slam but lasting longer, slowing and fading out after a few seconds.

“Wait,” he hisses, holding Eddie in place with two hands on his face while he tries to keep an ear out for the next noise.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I didn’t even hear anything. It’s probably the wind, babe.” Humoring Steve, he leans over to the bedside table to lower the volume on the stereo.

Then the unmistakable creak of the storm door outside filters down the hallway, and Steve and Eddie give each other alarmed looks. Wordlessly, Eddie scrambles out of Steve’s lap and towards the door. It’s just like him, always throwing himself headfirst into trouble. Steve can’t help but follow.

As they peek around the corner of the hall to watch the front door, the knob jiggles, almost in warning. They can just make out the scrape of metal on metal, like a key in the lock.

“Is that the wind?” Steve asks, a little hysterically.

“What should we do?” Eddie whisper-screams, just as the door lurches open…

…revealing a very confused Wayne Munson, frowning at the boys screaming at him from the hallway.

“Ed,” Wayne sighs, shrugging out of his jacket as he kicks the door closed behind him, “ya gotta stop watching those scary movies after dark if you’re gonna get all jumpy.”

Eddie sputters and points an accusing finger at Steve. “He’s the one who was getting jumpy!”

“You’re the one who ran off like you were trying to become the killer’s first victim!” Steve argues, face flushed with embarrassment. Damn his selective hearing and the creepy movie he and Eddie had watched earlier, making him look like a dumb kid in front of his boyfriend’s uncle.

“What killer?” Wayne looks between them as he tries and fails to follow their logic.

Eddie turns on him, looking furious. “And you! Why are you sneaking around like you’re trying to break into your own house?”

“Lord give me strength,” Wayne mutters, looking heavenward before turning back to his nephew. “I just came in the house like I always do.”

“Sorry, Mr. Munson,” Steve mumbles sheepishly.

Eddie glares at Steve for a second before following his lead. “Sorry, Wayne. We got carried away, I guess.”

“Well, no harm done, except for you scaring yourselves.” Wayne hangs up his coat and kicks off his work boots. “I’m gonna heat up some leftovers and go to bed. Steve, are you spending the night?”

“Yes, sir, if you don’t mind.”

Wayne’s smile is mischievous as he heads for the kitchen. “Good, then Ed can wake you up if he has nightmares.”

Eddie’s jaw drops. “Wayne!” he cries after him in mortification.

“Hey, you know I’ll never make fun of you for having nightmares,” Steve reassures him quietly with a kiss to his temple. “Even if they’re about the movie you picked.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see how brave you are at three in the morning.” Eddie grumbles but lets Steve pull him back to his bedroom with an arm around his waist. They’re definitely sleeping with a light on tonight.

#steddiespooktober #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve/eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #mine

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shes4twnksinatrnchct · 2 months ago

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New Friends

Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Words: 2k (oneshot)

Summary: After breaking up with Jake, you realize that perhaps the freedom of his grueling schedule—and the strain it placed on your relationship—isn’t all what you dreamed it would be.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, explicit language, arguing (yelling/screaming), angst, explicit sexual situations (quickie, p in v, voyeurism if you squint), alcohol abuse, depression

***Inspired by the song “New Friends” by Lainey Wilson

It’s an annoying thump—one that you can’t tell is from the sheet of rain hounding down onto the roof of your house, or from tail wagging on the dog in the bed next to you.

Opening your eyes, you look around the gloomy room, just as downtrodden and nauseatingly void of light as you feel.

Your nose stings, the lump forming in your throat as you recall for the ninetieth day in a row that he’s not here anymore.

Surprised that you made it to the bed in the middle of your own party last night, you sniffle back the guilt and drag yourself from the bed.

The floor rattles when four paws crash onto it, beating you to the bedroom door.

You don’t even bother assessing the damage in your living room…you know there’s more strewn out photo albums that’s home to pictures of him that you’ve been cursing every night, broken drink glasses that you’ve thrown at his record player he refuses to come retrieve, and whiskey stains soaked into the carpet from stumbling on your own feet while dancing to Neil Young—or was it Bob Dylan?

Unable to recall, you open the back door and let the dog run as free as they want to run in the rain…

…The rain overtakes the sound of silence that’s fallen between the two of you, your voices raw from shouting.

“If you would just come with me, y/n, this would—”

“--I go with you! I run all over the fucking Earth with you, and I’m miserable! I want to be at home, in my own bed, with my boyfrie–”

“--I don’t want to be at home!” He exclaims over you. “I told you that when we started dating! I love what I do, I love performing, I love being on the road!”

You blink at him, your voice shaking with the quiver in your throat while you say, “You love being away from me.”

“What?” He furrows his thick brows, disgusted with the idea of you even thinking such a thing.

“You live for it! Because when I’m not there all those girls who’d crawl across glass to get even half of a second of your attention—”

“---Oh, for fuck’s sake, y/n, gimme a bre—”

“---Can track you down and drop to their goddamn knees!” You outburst, the image of all those pretty, slobbering girls looking up at him like a God every night practically stamped onto your brain by this point.

“Just because you did it, doesn’t mean anybody else is!” He throws at you, reminding you very thoroughly of how you two even met to begin with.

You take in a breath, eyeing him bitterly before nodding slowly, mentally throwing all of his shit in a box and strewing it out in the yard.

“It doesn’t matter who's getting on their knees, or bending over a sink, or laying on their back, or standing on their goddamn head for you!” You laugh humorlessly. “I just know it’s not gonna be me, anymore.”

Jake rolls his jaw, deciding your words are a result of perhaps too much to drink, fogging your mind and striking an overreaction.

But you’re far more sober now than when he first arrived back home only a few hours ago before receiving a phone call that a last-minute festival had been scheduled for the day following tomorrow.

And of course he was okay with it.

Anything to get another chance to be away from you…or so you thought.

“Baby,” He starts quietly, guilt yanking at him while he outstretches a hand to you, that you dart away from.

“No.” You declare, knowing he’s a walking trap.

His tired eyes still manage to lull your anger, turning it into a hopeless frustration that pours out with your tears.

“You go have fun with whatever unwashed hippie you find at that festival, and I’ll have all your shit neatly waiting for you when you get back.” You assure him harshly, stepping to the bedroom the two of you share.

Your dog picks their head up, quickly feeling the anger reeling from the both of you, and stepping out of the way to go settle in the closet away from the noise.

“I don’t want anybody else, y/n.” He tells you, hot on your heels as you start gathering laundry baskets to sift through his dirty clothes from tour so you can wash them and get them folded—and packed away. “Do you hear me?!” He raises his voice, snatching his jeans from your hands and throwing them down to the floor.

“We’re in Nashville. I can find another guitar player ten steps down the road, Jake.” You spitefully dig at him, marching out of the room toward the front door of the home.

His hands grab your arms, forcing you to turn and look at him when you reach the foyer.

It’s all bullshit, and you both know it is when you add, “Yeah. You fuck who you want to while you’re on the road, and I fuck who I want to while you’re on the road, too.”

His jaw clenches while your words completely strip him of anything he might have to argue back with—too infuriated with the thought of you thinking he’d ever cheat on you, and the idea of you cheating on him. “We’re. Done.” You grit out in a hiss, nose to nose with him, your eyes bearing into his as you speak it sternly. “Do you hear me?”

You’re rendered breathless in a matter of moments, unable to recall how exactly the two of you ended up tangled together in front of the entryway table in front of the door—with no thought of how the silhouettes of your bodies may appear through the frosted glass of the window in your front door.

Apparently neither of you are done enough with one another not to do this, all desperate hands and needy tongues, threading together so naturally that it almost reminds you why you tolerate his absence so much…almost.

“Oh,” You whimper out from the back of your throat at the feeling of him thrusting into you, stretching you out with lack of leeway after turning you around and bending you over the table of home decor that scatters by him doing so.

Despite the discomfort, you arch your back, tightening around him, pulling him deeper into you while you sever your lip between your teeth.

“You would be turned on right now.” He mumbles in your ear at the feeling of your slick walls hugging him.

He’s panting, his jaw slack and a groan being strangled from him at the feeling of you wrapped around him, looking down at your lace panties pushed aside before his eyes look in front of the two of you in the wall mirror you’re both staring into.

Pausing momentarily, there’s a sadness that falls around the two of you that neither wants to dwell on, so it’s quickly returned to anger and spite in the form of him grabbing at your throat and you clawing at the back of his hand, moving against him as he picks up his pace between your spread thighs while your tip-toes struggle to stay on the floor.

He holds onto every note you moan, scream, and whisper out to him, knowing this is the last time the two of you will be doing this, savoring your soft skin, the feeling of your hips in his hands.

Its rushed and sloppy, the head of his cock easily seeking out just where you need him to be after practically worshipping your pussy for three years, now.

You damn near crawl up the wall when he starts hammering into you, his brows scrunching as he watches your face shift in the mirror to utter bliss.

“Jake,” It’s strangled and breathy, spilling from your lips so beautifully it intoxicates him all the more.

“Come on, baby,” He encourages in her ear, her eyes locking with his in the mirror before her shaking legs damn-near give way.

Your pulsing grip on him pulls him to his own end, only this time he’s pulling out to spill on your exposed ass cheek.

Neither of you move, but you look at him in the mirror, waiting for him to meet your own eyes.

When he finally does, he realizes the same painfully ironic turn of events that you’ve come to realize in this situation.

Your relationship started with a random quickie in the mirror of his dressing room, dopey smiles and sweet kisses following your fast passions.

Now here the two of you are, worn down and dragged around, exhausted and fed up.

It’s a bitter pill to swallow as you examine him through teary eyes while your heart drops to your stomach.

Instead of kissing you, or asking you about where you’re from, your family, your friends, your interests, he waits for you to ask him not to leave.

To jump into his arms and admit how wrong you were, how much you’ve missed him, how you want to go with him when he leaves again tomorrow.

But you do no such thing.

So, instead, he fights back tears and stumbles backward to get away from you.

…You have to shake the memory from your head, the last night the two of you saw one another being too emotionally draining to dwell on.

Yet, the entirety of your relationship has been spat back out to you.

Either in the form of dreams, random memories spilling through the cracks of your stone-cold mind that you’ve tried to wall off the best you can, and sometimes—when it’s too quiet in the house, void of your ex-boyfriend’s laughter, his shenanigans with his brothers, and any music exuding from him—your heart aches.

You see thousands of pictures from their current tour, it seems, scrolling mindlessly through social media, or sometimes his mom will give you updates.

You’ve iced out his brothers as much as you have to him, feeling unable to maintain a relationship with any extension of him if you can’t have him solely.

But it’s your fault.

You practically kicked him out of his own house, and Jake, being Jake, didn’t argue. He didn’t want it anyway after it’d been soaked in your poison, stewing for months at a time with his absence while you were too stubborn to go with him.

Hearing the dog at the door, you step to the heavy wood and swing it open, wincing when they shake off at your feet and soak your legs.

You need a shower, anyway, not feeling like taking one lately.

The idea of exerting that much energy is draining enough as it is, so you’ve dealt with your greasy hair with scrunchies and clips to keep it from your face, and don’t even try to think about what you might smell like to anyone who might drop by on you.

Though no one has.

All your friends are out of town.

Chugging the same performance kool-aid that Jake is.

“Self-serious bastards,” You mumble to yourself, your voice breaking while your dog eyes the kitchen, causing you to follow suit.

The food hits the metal bowl with a loud sprinkle, and you stare down at them while they eat.

You wonder what the hell the hound at your feet makes of this.

They miss him, at least you figure as much. They mope around more than you do some days, pacing in front of the door, or sniffing around his side of the closet before laying down and whining.

But they brighten up on the days you’re worse off, as if knowing you need something to try to bring you joy and it’s on them to deliver it. despite the fact that perhaps they might feel as though they did something to make him leave for longer.

“It’s my fault, you know.” You say to them, and two big, round eyes look up at you as lips smack on their breakfast. “I’m sorry.” You add, the closest to an apology for your behavior towards your ex that you’ll make.

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka gvf #jake gvf #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fic #gvf fic #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka x you #jake kiszka x y/n

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v0rewhxre · 9 months ago

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Punished Part 2

The very highly anticipated part 2 to my punished blurb I wrote randomly last week! Thank you all so much for the support and love! I was not expecting this story to take off!

Also the first two paragraphs are from part 1 if they seem familiar!

18+ MDNI

CW: [f masturbation, m masturbation, slight throat grasping, p in v unprotected sex, restraint play, blindfolds, sensory play, oral f receiving, edging, pull out method, slightly dom Noah, slightly dom reader, slightly mean Noah, mentions of sex toys, mentions of squirting]

He waited a moment before moving his gaze to me. The expression on his face was cocky, there was no remorse in those eyes from the incident he just pulled. He simply grabbed a t-shirt and wiped himself off, getting up to go about his day.

Before he stepped outside the bedroom door, he turned and said, "If you touch yourself, I will do that again later. If you use your vibrator I will do that every day for the rest of the week, then you'll miss me," He said before walking away leaving me in practically a puddle of my own mess and tears.

*Later that day*

The soft hum of my vibrator was the only sound in our large airy bedroom. There was a slick sweat that coated my entire body. My hips were moving in rhythm, coming off the bed so I could get the most pressure on my clit. Noah had left the house for the afternoon to work on some fancy drum engineering stuff with Matt and Folio. This provided the perfect opportunity to finally get the release I needed.

The entire day sucked. Noah was extremely arrogant and moody all day. I knew this could only mean he was having a hard time with a new song. Although he had done a lot of work in therapy, these mood swings still came out. I didn't mind the mood swings occasionally, usually they led to really hot sex with Noah. Not today I guess...

The pleasure building throughout my pelvis started to become more intense at the thoughts of Noah throwing me around bed. I focused on this one particular time where Noah fucked me so hard I squirted all over him, making a huge mess. We ended up laughing about it for weeks afterwards. To this day I swear I actually peed, but he reassured me that was not the case.

Finally, my orgasm was right on the cusp. I continued the same swirl pattern on my clit allowing myself to go over the edge. I moaned so loudly; all the tension from earlier pouring out of me in waves of ecstasy. Fuck Noah and his stupid fucking rule, if I want to cum I will.

After my orgasm finished I set my vibrator back in the nightstand drawer, remade the bed, and took a quick shower. There would be no evidence for Noah to find.

When Noah came home, he was still a little off but seemed a lot happier. They must have cooked up something real good in the studio. I had no doubt Matt and Folio wrote some insane drum parts for the next album.

"What did you get up to today?" Noah asked quizzically, raising one eyebrow. It took all my energy to keep my cheeks from heating when he asked. I felt bad about lying but I could not deal with watching Noah get off once again without me.

"I just spent the day watching shows, and I did a bit of cleaning," I said casually. It wasn't a lie at all, I had cleaned the house and watched a few episodes of Attack On Titan.

"Interesting," Noah said slowly.

"Interesting indeed," I mimicked his tone.

With that Noah got off the couch and proceeded down the hallway towards our bedroom. I raced to follow his long strides, almost running into him as he stopped at my nightstand right inside the door.

"Are you sure you just cleaned and watched shows?" Noah asked as he opened the drawer to inspect the many toys I had.

"Yes I am sure," I said quietly.

"Try again... this time, don't lie," Noah said as he selected the very vibrator I had used earlier.

I had made one fatal error, I did not clean it off.

"Noah I..." but I was cut off by the a loud sniff. I watched as Noah ran his nose up the entire length of the vibrator, inhaling the now dried arousal I had produced earlier.

"You think I wouldn't recognize the smell of your pussy, y/n?" Noah said placing the vibrator down in the drawer. He turned slowly towards me, his height and muscular frame becoming menacing as the light faded away with the setting sun.

"What did I tell you earlier?" he said taking a step towards me, firmly grasping my throat with his hand. He wasn't cutting off my airway, he knew that was one thing that really scared me, but he knew his grasp could control anything I did.

"Noah, please. I can't watch you jerk off again. It drove me insane. Please, I'll do anything... please just please," I said stifling the sob that was coming up my throat.

"Tskk, y/n that wasn't part of the deal now was it love?" Noah said.

He kept one hand wrapped around my throat while he used the other to slowly pull down his pants. My eyes widened as I watched his cock spring free, already half hard just from the thought of me masturbating. A win is a win I suppose.

I looked up at Noah's eyes, they were pitch black in the dark room. He smirked at me as he leaned down and spit in his hand. My pussy almost flooded the entire room. The fucker knew how much I loved spit. His hand now started slowly moving up and down his cock, the only sound in the room was his saliva smacking as he rubbed.

His eyes rolled back slightly as he let his head hang, he seemed to have been waiting for another release all day. The mere thought he tortured me turned him on. God, I fucking hated him.

"Noah, I will literally get on my knees and beg right now. I cannot do this again," I said urgently as I noticed his pace quickened by the sound of his hand moving back and forth.

His hand let up slightly on my throat, I wasn't sure if it was from my pleads or because he was so turned on he was already falling apart. I used this opportunity to slip from his grasp, jumping into him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, legs around his waist.

Noah stumbled slightly backwards but maintained his balance as I literally attacked him. My mouth was on his before he could protest, our lips colliding with such force I was concerned I knocked a tooth out. I kissed him so deeply, forcing my tongue into his mouth to explore every inch. His tongue battled mine, trying to push mine away with no prevail. His arms snaked around me, resting just above my ass. I had him.

I ground my hips against his cock, the angle allowing me to rub my pussy up his length. I moved at an agonizing pace which earned a few frustrated huffs from Noah's mouth into mine.

Next thing I knew my back was against the bedroom wall, Noah now matching my hip thrusts with his own. His precum leaked all over my body, coating me in a sticky mess. Oh my god was I turned on.

I pulled away slightly, grabbing Noah's ear lob between my teeth. I whispered in a low sensual voice, "Fuck me like the naughty girl I am, Noah".

His cock slammed into me. Hard. I don't even know how it happened, I didn't remember him lining himself with my pussy.

The dark room now filled with the sounds of our skin slapping, us moaning, and my back pounding against the wall. He thrusted so hard I could barely even think, reaching the deepest part of my core.

I let my head fall back, smiling to myself as I knew I had won. Or had I?

Noah moved us to the bed, laying me in the mass of pillows that we had. We were often a little freaky in the bedroom. We had restraints already attached to the posts of our bed, awaiting to be used when Noah and I wanted.

Noah's cock left me while he moved to tie me to the bed. The Velcro cuffs were comfortable around my wrists and ankles. What I wasn't expecting was the sleep mask Noah placed around my head and over my eyes.

I couldn't move and I could not see, a dangerous game to play with a man who loved control.

My senses heightened as the anticipation did, I could feel the bed move but I had no idea where Noah was.

One finger. One finger trailed slowly from my ankle all the way up to my chin. He moved his finger as light as a feather, a trail of goosebumps following in its wake. My clit was practically screaming to be touched as another finger moved over my body, then three fingers fanned their way up. All purposely missing the one place I wanted to be touched. He didn't even give me a nipple touch.

One little kiss. One little soft kiss full of love was placed on my hip. Then another soft kiss on the other hip. One on my stomach. One on my right forearm, then the left. A soft kiss placed on my chin, forehead, right cheek, left. Then Noah softly brushed over my lips with his, a kiss that sent electricity throughout my body as it had the very first time he kissed me.

"I love you, Noah," I whispered out into the room, unsure where he was.

"I love you more," He replied as his finger lightly brushed over my pussy. He didn't apply enough pressure to breakthrough my folds, which was frustrating. My back arched slightly, seeking out his finger again. Instead I was met with hot breath, and one very wet tongue. Noah licked me this time, again he did so very lightly.

He pulled away, lifting one leg with him and placing it over his shoulder. He moved the other on his shoulder. Based on the position I was in, he must have been bent low on the bed or the restraints were let out enough to accommodate.

Teeth. I felt teeth next taking a small bite of my left inner thigh. It was only inches away from my pussy. He took another bite on my right inner thigh. Then he moved back to the other, inching slightly towards my center. Another, then another, then another, then... oh my god!!!

Noah took a small bite and pulled my clit with his teeth. It was hard enough to evoke shock throughout my entire body. It hurt, yet was quite satisfying. I felt my pussy clench around nothing, desperately wanting to be filled again by Noah's cock.

Noah released my clit, then brought his tongue back into the equation by spreading my folds open. His tongue was met with his lips, as he began licking and sucking my entire being. Now my hips began to move again, desperately seeking a release that I needed once again. Noah now moved lower, tongue fucking my pussy expertly by hooking it just inside. He pulled away only to spit on me, acting like his glorious meal was filth. Jesus, I couldn't take this any longer.

My moans began to get louder and louder, and so did the sounds coming from my pussy. The pleasure was now dimly burned in my lower belly, I could feel my toes begin to curl in the restraints.

"Noah, please.... I need to feel you inside... please," I whined desperately.

My legs were off his shoulders, my butt was back on the bed again.

Cock. I felt the head of his cock slowly moving up and down between my folds, doing slow circles around my clit before going back down. He slightly pressed in, just breaking through my entrance before moving back upwards. I moved my hips towards Noah's cock, moving against him to create more friction. He pulled away.

A few moments later he was back, moving slowly up and down again.

"Do you want it?" he cockily said as if he didn't already know the answer. I could hear his stupid smile from where my head rested. As if to prove his point, he put the entire tip in and thrusted only the tip which drove me insane. He pulled out asking again, by emphasizing every word he said, "Y/n, do... you... want.... it?"

"Do you want it?" I threw back, lifting my hips towards where I believed he was sitting. I giggled slightly, knowing I was being a brat and that I drove him crazy.

He chuckled back, "You really are such a naughty girl aren't you? Luckily you have such a pretty pussy".

His cock entered me again, but this time he went in all the way. I had no time to adjust to him before he was slamming into me once again. His arms were wrapped under my thighs, lifting me to the perfect angle. This time I knew he was just as needy as I was, his cock throbbed.

Noah grunted as he picked up the pace even more, his new workout regiment allowed him to have more stamina than ever. He was able to thrust harder and faster for longer. My moans once again filled the room in sync with his. I could hear the sound of our skin slapping against one another. He squeezed my thighs with his hands to keep from loosing grip, we both were coated in sweat now.

"Noah...." I warned, he knew I was close. My pussy was pulsing and throbbing, my orgasm was built up to the max.

"I know," he breathed back.

Suddenly, he was over me completely and his lips were grazing my ear. His moans filled my ears, sending me into a sensory overload as I plunged over. My orgasm came fast, I screamed out Noah's name which I knew probably hurt his ear. He road me through my orgasm for a few seconds before he pulled out. His cum sprayed all over my stomach and lower boobs. I felt each string as it landed on me. I had wished I could see it, but just feeling him release on me was enough. This was a punishment after all.

Once we both were done, Noah plopped on top of me creating even more of a mess for us to clean up.

"You do a great job at making rules and an even better job with your punishments," I laughed into the top of his head, rubbing it in that his punishment was indeed not sufficient for the crime.

"Yeah, yeah," he moaned into the crook of my neck.

I smiled to myself as Noah dozed off, until I realized he fell asleep on me and I couldn't move.

I suppose an impending uti was punishment indeed...

******************************************

I hope you all enjoyed! I little different than I intended to write it but this just came to me and I think it works :)

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #nick folio #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #bad omens smut

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wlntrsldler · 7 months ago

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well now that you let the angst monster peek out… can we have a luke and five star argument that happens while she’s visiting that leaves everyone tense and forcing them to make up, or smth along those lines?? i need more of their angst it’s too good 😁🙏

song: i choose you by kiana lede

"what do you want me to do, five star?" luke asked, trailing behind you. you both just entered the concert venue for their second album's listening session. the event was starting in a few hours and it was a struggle to sneak in through the back without any of the fans noticing you.

"do not call me that right now," you hissed, marching over to the back exit.

"fuck, are you serious? can you just-- stop walking so fast!" luke picked up his pace and planted his feet in front of you. he looked at you in disbelief as you crossed your arms over your chest with your lips in a pout. you tried to look at anything but him. "what do you want me to do, huh? you don't want people to know about us, which is fine! i'm good with that, but i can't control what people say about me. i can't control that they're speculating things. you know they're not true!"

you were being stubborn. you knew this. it wasn't luke's fault that someone named him as their celebrity crush and that the poisoned mercury fans were shipping them now. it wasn't his fault that your tiktok page was just edits of your boyfriend and the gorgeous, beautiful, singer. she didn't know luke was in a relationship. she didn't even know you existed.

outside of yours and luke's immediate circles, nobody knew. the long-distance thing was a blessing in disguise while you two hid your relationship from the public. no paparazzi pictures. no fan sightings.

"i don't know, okay?" you groaned, rubbing your face with your hands. "i don't know what i want right now."

"it looks like you wanna leave," luke clenched his jaw, gesturing to the door you were racing towards. "is that what you wanna do?"

you looked at him, hard and cold, "maybe i do."

luke scoffed, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue, trying to hide the hurt in his face. he shook his head, an empty smile appearing on his lips, "fine. go, then."

around the corner, the boys and clarisse watched in silence. they were startled by the sound of you and luke arguing. you weren't yelling at each other, but the tone of your voices were rough. they'd never heard you guys like this before.

you and luke always spoke in hushed whispers with each other. sickeningly loving voices that were reserved for each other. the boys often joked about throwing up every time you and luke shared a kiss in front of them, but they loved seeing the two of you in love. so seeing you guys argue was something they weren't prepared for.

sure, couples argue and they fight, they weren't stupid enough to think that you two didn't do that, but you two always seemed to work it out. neither of you have ever left each other like this.

connor turned to clarisse when you walked out of the venue, slamming the door behind you as you left the building, "well, shit."

"what do we do?" travis questioned, panic in his eyes. "we have a gig in a few and luke is supposed to be singing these love songs he wrote about the girl who just left."

"dude. that's the last thing that should be on your mind," chris smacked him on the arm, "they just got in a fight."

"come on, it's luke and y/n. they're not gonna break up," he replied nonchalantly, "they're meant to be. i'm not worried about them."

"i am," clarisse mumbled. the boys all turned to look at her. "i-i've never seen her like this."

the boys were close, of course, they were, but they didn't always talk about relationships like this. they only knew about the surface-level things about your relationship because luke wasn't one to gush about the details of it. but if clarisse, who knew more about your side of the story, says that they should be worried, then maybe they should be.

before any of them could reply, luke walked by the group, grumbling and visibly upset. he collapsed on the couch with a thud and glared at them, "what?"

"are we gonna ignore the fucking elephant in the room?" travis asked, quirking an eyebrow. he motioned to the area where luke was previously standing, "what the fuck was that?"

"i'm not in the mood, stoll."

"you need to be more empathetic, bro," connor sighed, placing a hand on the older stoll's back.

"hey, none of you keep me for my empathy," travis shrugged, sitting beside luke. he nudged him with his elbow, trying to get him to crack a smile, "you keep me for my innate ability to kill it on the drums and for my humor. oh! and my killer looks, how can i forget that?"

luke snorted, letting out a dry laugh. he shoved travis playfully, easing his shoulders, "you're terrible."

"you guys okay?" clarisse piped in, standing beside chris. she reached for his hand to anchor her. "that seemed intense."

"i don't know," luke chewed on his bottom lip, "she's mad that fans are shipping me with some actress that said i was her celebrity crush, but i don't know what to do about it."

"oh, i've seen those edits," she cringed, sending luke a sad smile. "they're everywhere right now."

"clar, i don't know what i'm supposed to do here," luke was out of ideas. he propped his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. "she doesn't want people to know about us, which is fair. i get it. i'm fine with keeping it under wraps for now because i also don't want the media in my personal business and i don't wanna subject her to that. but like-- what am i supposed to do? i can't control what people make up online."

"yeah that's fair," she mused. she paused for a second. "did she ever tell you about the guy who asked her out to his frat formal?"

"yeah," luke mumbled, "la rue, if your goal was to get me madder, it's working because i distinctly remember telling five star that i would fly to north carolina to punch that guy square in the jaw."

"calm down," she laughed, "but you know how you're feeling right now? that's how y/n feels, but like a hundred times more. imagine people telling you that your girlfriend would be perfect with some other guy, who probably would make more sense for her. he goes to her school, he's attractive-- their relationship would make sense."

"y/n has to deal with having to share you with the world, luke. and it's not your fault and she wouldn't trade what you guys have for anything, but having to see people talk about her boyfriend being perfect with someone else? i dunno," she shrugged, looking at chris. chris held her hand tighter. she turned to luke again, "i would probably react the same way as her."

"oh," luke conceded. "just curious, what was the guy's name?"

"y/n didn't even bother getting his name," clarisse said. "she just said no and walked away. then she called you because she missed you."

"get your ass up and get your girl, castellan," travis pushed luke off the couch.

luke didn't need to be told twice. he opened the door, craning his head left and right to look for you. he saw you leaning against the wall, a familiar device in your hand. you exhaled, smoke escaping your parted lips, walking over to him.

luke met you halfway, pulling you to his body when he got close enough. he placed a kiss on the crown of your head, "don't like it when we fight."

"i don't either," you mumbled, gripping him tightly, "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"you know there's nobody else for me, yeah?"

"no, i know," you pulled away from him a tiny bit, but luke wasn't having it. he wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you from taking a step back. you looked up at him, feeling vulnerable, "it's just getting to me, i think. it's hard to be unphased when everyone wants your boyfriend."

"fuck everyone else," luke hummed, placing a soft kiss on your lips. your lips molded together perfectly. "want you. only you. next time you're feeling this way, tell me, okay? i can think of so many better ways than fighting to reassure you of how i feel."

you giggled, trailing kisses on his jawline, "i can think of a few ways right now."

he pulled out his phone, turning to face you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "we got a three hours. how many ways do you think we can do?"

"so this song is not on the album," luke started, taking his mic off the stand. the crew rushed over to switch to the acoustic set. his eyes found yours in the small crowd. you furrowed your eyebrows in a questioning manner. "but we wanted to give you guys a surprise song at this listening session."

travis got situated on his acoustic drum set, sending luke a thumbs up. the rest of the boys sat on the stools in front of the crowd. cheers erupted from the group you and clarisse sat with, all buzzing with excitement that they were getting an unreleased song.

"i wrote this song a few weeks ago and we haven't gotten the chance to record it so it may be rough," luke laughed into the mic, eyes not leaving yours. "but i wrote this song about a girl that i met last summer. and... well, i'll let the song speak for itself. this is 'i choose you.' hope you like it."

#frances replies #poisoned mercury chats #i cant have them mad at each other too long it hurts my heart #luke castellan x reader

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imaginesbymonika · 2 months ago

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She's electric | Part 4

Pairing: Liam Gallagher x fem!bassist reader

Plot: Liam's hatred for Blur runs deep. However, no matter how much he hates them and their stupid music - he cannot seem to hate their bassist.

Last Part

„I knew you’d come and find me.”, her voice is delicate while her gaze lingers on the cigarette she holds between her two fingers. “Oh really? What gave ya the idea?”

Y/N looks up at Liam, who is standing a few steps away from her. His shoulder and head are leaning against the brick wall. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?.”

Liam stares at the cloudless night sky. He knows she’s right. As much as he likes this little game they’ve been playing for a while now- he has never been a patient guy. “You’re right.”, he declares:” Wanted to talk to you about that little speech of yours.”

Y/N chuckles, her eyes not leaving his form:” Liked it?” She already knows the answer to that. Liam chuckles and nods at the cigarette pack:” Yeah, I liked it. Never expected you to actually say something like that, though.” A scoff escapes Y/N as she throws the pack at him:” Please, don’t flatter yourself. If I thought NSYNC had a better album than you guys I would have mentioned them instead.”

“Good thing you didn’t mention those pricks. I don’t think I could have handled the jealousy of you complimenting them over me.”, he mutters, peeking at her through his lashes. The glow of the lighter wraps around her features in a way that makes Liam feel like he’s dreaming.

“Good thing I don’t think Timberlake fit.”, she replies and earns a low chuckle from the guy in front of her. “Can’t blame ya’. I’m a good-looking bloke.”, he lets out, trying to conceal the fact that his heart is still beating way faster than it probably should be.

“Why didn’t you call me?”, she wants to sound nonchalant, but there is a layer of nervousness to it. It makes Liam’s smile fade as he inhales a sharp breath:” Well…I-. I guess I didn’t want to come across as too eager. You know? Didn’t want to look like a desperate pervert.”

“Well, I already think you’re a desperate pervert.”, she brings the cigarette up to her lips again:” A call wouldn’t have changed that.”

“You’re a right pain in the arse, you know that?”, he asks, a softer smile now playing on his lips as he mutters his words. He takes a step towards her:” I hate how I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Y/N stares at him for a few moments before pointing her thumb over her shoulder towards the small fence:” The beer here is shite. Wanna go to a pub instead?” She eyes how he tosses the cigarette on the ground before stomping it out with his foot. He casually offers his arm to her:” Shall we? Princess?” He doesn’t have to ask her twice.

“I’m going to show you the finest shithole in Manchester.”

Their relationship lasted for 6 full years. Then it abruptly ended. To this day neither one of them has said why.

#liam gallagher imagine #liam gallagher x reader #liam gallagher #liam #noel gallagher #oasis x reader #oasis band #oasis

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oneeyedgrimes · 3 months ago

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WILDFLOWER

Summary: You look too much like Beth. Daryl doesn’t know how to handle that.

Cw: reader kills walkers, angst if you squint and read it upside down, a little arguing, a really shit attempt at fluff. Daryl and reader are platonic.( beth and daryl shippers dni)

A.N: I started writing this before Billie’s album came out but this is lowkey the perfect song for this I’m so glad I waited, I also don’t like this so please let me know if you enjoy! 🩵

definitely not proofread lmk if you see any mistakes!

Imagine Daryl sees you for the first time in Alexandria and he just stops dead in his tracks, stares directly at you and he’s just, stunned because, you look too damn much like Beth.

You had the blonde hair that was throw into a messy ponytail and the blue eyes that only got bluer in the sun, but it was the sweater that really shook Daryl, you were wearing the same exact sweater that Beth wore the last time Daryl seen her.

You looked over at him making eye contact with him and you smiled at him with a small wave though it didn’t quite catch him as he was still stuck staring at you. You started to walk towards him and that seemed to bring him back from the daze he was in, he backed away farther with every step you took turning his back towards you walking over to Rick’s house where he was sat on his porch, you didn’t think much of it shrugging your shoulders chalking it up to him just being nervous about being in a new place.

He avoided you or atleast he tried to, he couldn’t look at you without seeing the girl he failed to protect, everytime he saw you holding Judith he saw Beth, walking thru the prison with Judith in her arms hiding and rocking her to sleep and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

He stayed outside of the walls most of the time, you found it weird at first asking yourself why anyone would want to be out there with those things but now you couldn’t be more grateful he was there when he was. You only wanted to learn how to protect yourself like you saw the group do time and time again, so you went outside the walls. It was around 2 am if you had to guess. it was chilly night so you grabbed your sweater putting it on before you climbed over the gate. You had a pocket knife one you borrowed from Glenn, you also have a small pistol that you stole from the pantry just incase though you had no intention to use it knowing it would be too loud. You walked far enough away from Alexandria into the woods when you ran into a two walkers, you were able to kill the first walker but not without a struggle.

You fell to the ground as the rotten corpse fell heavily ontop of you. You tried your hardest to push the walker off of you but the next walker walked fell right ontop of you and knocked your blade out of your hand as you wheezed from the weight of the bodies. You tried pushing the bodies off of you reaching for your blade but it wasn’t enough, the walker on top opened its mouth about to bite you, you turned your head and watched as a arrow went thru the walkers head and the rotten body went limp on top of you, shortly after the arrow was pulled from its head and the weight was lifted off of you as you were pulled up onto your feet a little roughly, You lifted your head and realized it was daryl who’d just saved you from being bitten. You parted your lips about to spew out some excuse and thank him for saving you but was cut off by his rough voice louder than you’d ever heard it before.

“ tha’ hell ya doin’ out here girl? Ya tryna get yurself’ killed?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him as you tried to speak.

“ Daryl I’m sorry I wa-“

“hell you know ya’ ain’t ‘posed ta be out hea’ by yurself” He cut you off his hands flying in the air in protest.

“I just wanted to learn how to protect myself like you and Rick do” you told him your voice quiet careful not to make him more upset.

“ so ya ask someone ta train you, ya don’ come out here by yurself ya almost got bit wha’ gon’ happen then huh” he got closer to you

That’s when you snapped.

“Don’t. You don’t get to sit here and act like you give a shit about me, You don’t even like me. Everyone talks to me except you! You’ve avoided me since you’ve got here Daryl. You treat me like I’m one of these things” you pointed to the walkers on the floor

Daryl froze then, his face hard and his eyes looked distant it was like he was having Deja vu, it’s like he was back at that house arguing with her again. He looked at you and his face was softer and his lips seems to tilt downward at the sides and he didn’t say anything back. Your head tilted in shock but you didn’t have time to say anything before he mumbled something ducking his head

“ what? I can’t hear what you’re saying speak up”

You furrowed your eyebrows and crossed your arms over your chest. He lifted his head and looked at you and you felt like you had whiplash seeing all the anger on his face completely gone replaced with sadness something you’d never seen on Daryl’s face before.

“ you jus’ remin’ me of her,.. of beth n’ I can’t look at you without seeing ‘er. I can’t talk to ya withou’ seein’ tha’ girl I couldn’ save and I can’t go thru tha’ again I can’t not be able to save ya like I..”

He trailed off turning to the side to hide his face chewing on his lip nervously, your own hands dropping from your chest fidgeting with your fingers as you waiting for him to finish

“Like what Daryl “ you asked quietly

“ like I couldn’ save ‘er”

You watched as he fumbled with his fingers, if you were completely honest you were at a loss of words. you’d never seen daryl look so vulnerable you knew you needed to say or do something.

and he stood there watching you watch him. He dropped his head closing his eyes only opening them when he felt arms around him, he wrapped his arms around you not holding you as tightly as he could but you knew the hug meant everything to him.

“ I’m sorry” you knew it wasn’t enough but that’s all you could get out squeezing him tighter

“ I’m so sorry and it’s not your fault, you can’t save everyone daryl even if you try your hardest the world is just too cruel but it’s never your fault”

You said quietly into the hug shortly after you pulled away looking at him wiping a few tears from your own face.

“It’s not your fault daryl it never was it never will be” Daryl didn’t say anything just nodded still chewing at his lip beofr he looked around

“ ‘ts gettin’ late best head back ‘fore somebody wakes up” He stated looking at you, you nodded and started walking next to him. the two of you made it back to Alexandria getting back into the gates not seeing anyone outside, Daryl walked you home making sure you got in safely, you walked up your stairs quietly opening your door walking into your shared house, you turned and just before you closed the door you called out

“Goodnight daryl” You smiled waving at him “night kid” He said back to you his voice raspy with sleep a small smile on his own face.

#Spotify #twd daryl #daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon angst #daryl x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl imagines #twd daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl the walking dead

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blooming-dahlia · 1 year ago

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Hello Livi <33 May I request reader being housewife for Riddle? I would love to hear your thoughts about that. Thanks in advance!!

Sweet Marriage [Riddle Rosehearts]

╰ Every time you see someone from your high school on the street and talk to them, they can't believe who you ended up tying the knot with. In fact, even Ace and Deuce were shocked when they received an invitation to your wedding, even though they knew you two had been dating for so long.

╰ Ace was absolutely convinced that one day you would eventually break up with Riddle due to his specific nature, but being one of the best men at your wedding was definitely not something he could have expected.

╰ As for you, well, you still can't believe you're finally married to the man you love. One of your favorite things to do when Riddle is at work is looking at the photos from your wedding. The professional ones you keep in a photo album, while the others are in the gallery on your phone, most of them being the ones Cater took and sent to you later.

╰ No matter what other people say, you couldn't ask for a better husband than Riddle. During your NRC days, he was often insecure and worried that he might do something wrong and, worse, hurt you unintentionally. He had never been in a relationship before, so this was all new to him. But over time, with a little bit of your help, he was able to gain some confidence.

╰ After your wedding, Riddle became even more affectionate towards you. Even when he's at work, he can't help but call you whenever he has the chance, just to ask how you're doing and tell you how much he loves you. The best moment of the day is when Riddle comes home and you can finally throw yourself into his arms.

╰ Sometimes you get the feeling that Riddle is overworking himself a bit, but every time you try to look for a job, he assures you that everything is fine and that you don't need to do that, because the last thing he wants is for you to overwork yourself as well.

╰ Of course you do things like cooking and cleaning every day. At first you thought that Riddle might be angry with you if he found out that you missed a few spots while cleaning or didn't do anything at all on a particular day, but it quickly turned out that he could be more understanding than you would ever imagine. That's mostly because you're his wife, whom he loves dearly, and not some random troublemaker like Ace and Deuce.

╰ The house you live in once belonged to one of Riddle's relatives, but since they moved out a long time ago, they gladly decided to sell it to you. It's not a super exclusive and luxurious mansion or anything like that, it's rather a small and cozy house, just perfect for you two. You also have a garden that you always take care of.

╰ On weekends, you two always go shopping. You can't even count how many times you've asked Riddle not to spoil you with gifts he buys for you behind your back while you're shopping, but you can see he doesn't care. He strictly follows the belief that a wife must be spoiled a lot by her husband.

╰ There are moments when the two of you argue. It is not often, but your fights can be really intense sometimes. However, Riddle can quickly turn from angry to concerned and ashamed the second he sees you crying, no matter who started the fight. He just hates to see tears streaming down your face.

╰ The thing you definitely avoid the most are family meetings. While those with your parents are somewhat tolerable and quite enjoyable, those with your husband's are the exact opposite. You're thankful they don't happen often, since you are probably at the top of your mother-in-law's list of people she hates the most. Every meeting with Riddle's family so far has just been you trying to hold back your tears until you finally get home.

╰ When there is nothing to do while Riddle is at work, you often hang out with your friends. Most of the time, they like to tease you about being a married woman so soon. To be honest, you are surprised about it yourself. Who would have thought that Riddle Rosehearts would propose to his girlfriend right after she graduated from NRC?

╰ Riddle himself also keeps in touch with some people from your high school, the main ones of course being Ace, Deuce, Trey and Cater. Obviously you knew it would be the last two, but the troublemakers came as a complete surprise. Riddle somehow learned to tolerate them instead of yelling at them every second, especially since they are not in Heartslabyul anymore. Once, however, he loosened up to the point where the Adeuce duo got him drunk as a silly prank. Poor Riddle has never experienced anything like this before and became extremely clingy to you when he, thanks to Trey, returned home. Eventually he ended up crying, so you had to comfort and cuddle him until he fell asleep, but you didn't mind it at all.

╰ It is obvious to Riddle that you would never cheat on him. But there are still times when he can't help but get a little jealous. He spends most of the day at work, so he doesn't really know what you're currently doing unless he calls you. Also because of this, the two of you don't spend as much time together as you'd like. He understands that you might feel lonely, so as long as you don't cheat on him, you can hang out with whoever you want.

╰ When it's your birthday, Riddle always has something special planned for you. He even leaves work early to surprise you with a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers and then takes you on a date to places such as a restaurant and theme park. When it's Riddle's birthday, you always try to bake his favorite strawberry tart, but you fail anyway, so you call Trey to come over to help you. For some reason, Trey always comes with Adeuce duo and Cater, which results in a huge party for your husband.

╰ Eventually, one day you apply for a job of your choice. You know that Riddle wouldn't have to work so hard if you could also earn some money. It was not easy to break this news to him, but in the end he said that it was your own decision and that he would support you no matter what.

╰ Sometimes your friends ask when you and Riddle will have children of your own. You're both still very young, so he isn't going to force you to have them now, but if you decide one day that you're ready, he would love to have two or maybe even three. Riddle doesn't feel confident enough to tell you this yet, because he's afraid that you might think it's too much for you, or perhaps you don't want to have children at all. Still, he finds you to be a very gentle and caring woman, and he's sure you'll make a perfect mother in the future.

Thank you for requesting!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland hcs #twisted wonderland one-shots #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst hcs #twst one-shots #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #twisted wonderland riddle x reader #twst riddle x reader

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emlovslennon · 10 months ago

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omgg last night I dreamed about supeeer cute soft dom george being very affectionate and giving making love to reader making her forget all her insecurities whispering in her ear a lot of worship, it's my first request and don't speak English very well but I'm here hehe love ya!

GUYS IM ALIVE HOLY FUCK BALLS !!! Anyway HEHEHHEHE evil laughter back to my mischievousness (mental illness). Also I LOVE YOU TOO

Era: 1965 cuz i feel like it

Audible moan.

You had been feeling extremely insecure ever since you got back from the opening of the the Beatles new movie, “Help!” You saw how in the newspapers they were saying incredibly cruel things about you, especially about how tight your black dress was when you wore it to the premiere. It was, “Name the Beatles wife with the worst taste?” Or “That dress certainly doesn’t look flattering on her!” Like it was some joke. You felt tears brim your eyes just thinking about it. You’d constantly look in the mirror and pinch at your stomach and thighs, you just couldn’t understand why you couldn’t be as beautiful as Jane or Maureen or Cynthia.

“Love, I’m back! Love? What’s wrong?” George said, he had just gotten back from a meeting about an upcoming album, so he unfortunately couldn’t take you along since it was a private meeting, not a public one. You were laying on your shared bed crying, with a newspaper at your side. The one that completely wrecked your self esteem. George caught on and picked up, in complete anger, he ripped the newspaper up and threw it in the trash.

“Absolute bloody rubbish! I hate those damn newspapers, y/n, come ‘ere love.” He said, quite angry, but gentle once he called your name. He couldn’t believe someone could say that about his wife. He thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. How could anyone not agree? They must be blind.

“Love, don’t listen to those bloody bastards, you are the most beautiful and lovely woman I ever laid eyes and have ever met. If they don’t believe that, then they must not have eyes.” He whispers in your ear, playing with your hair. Your tears at this point subsided and you looked up at him, he gave you a grin and kissed your forehead. You know this probably wasn’t the best timing, but you just couldn’t resist when he looks at you with nothing but pure love in his eyes.

“George, could you maybe show me how beautiful I am?” You say quietly, George winks at you in a joking manner and wiggles his eyebrows which make you giggle. George slowly positioned you to get you to lay on your back while he slowly got on top of you.

“I mean it when I say you look stunning in anything.” He whispers, playing with the hem of your black night gown, it was short and only went down to almost the end of your inner thighs. He looked at you for permission and you nodded, as he slowly lifted up your night gown, leaving completely exposed. You usually didn’t bother with under garments when you were going to sleep, you just didn’t feel the need for it.

“You amaze me every time, y’know that?” He praised, as his hands went to your breasts as he pulled you into a passionate kiss, leaving you breathless. George lifted himself up to take off his black long sleeve shirt and the pair of black pants he wore with it, as he went back down to kiss your neck, he hand slowly wandered down to your core, lightly rubbing causing you to whimper. George grinned at the sound, George loved nothing more than when you made noises for him, he doesn’t even really care when it comes to him getting off it’s just as long as you do he’s good.

“Can I?” He asks, his fingers nearing and circling your hole, you nod frantically as he giggles at your reaction, he slowly inserts two fingers into you. You bite your lip and throw your head back into the pillows with the intrusion. But you couldn’t lie, his fingers do wonders. He slowly thrusts them in and out as he watches you whimper and moan, he usually never goes fast unless you tell him to, he’s just never really been that kind of person. Whereas someone like John is the complete opposite.

“F-faster, George!” You moan out, causing George to kiss and suck on your neck harder than he did before as he went faster, your juices starting to seep down to the sheets as the noises coming from your core begin to echo through out the room. You felt the tightness and heat in your belly about to burst and you knew that only meant one thing.

“George-I’m-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you felt as if you were sitting stars as your orgasm hit. George never wanted to admit it, but he absolutely adored when you orgasm your a shaking and moaning mess for him, you look absolutely wrecked just from his fingers.

“Are you ready? Do you need a minute?” He asks, one thing to note about George, is that he is huge on consent, he would never, ever, do something that you didn’t like or something that he thought could hurt you. It would break him into a million pieces if that happened.

“Yes, please!” You say shakily, George nods as he kissed your forehead, slowly lining himself up and entering you.

“You’re always so good for me, always. No one could ever compare.” He whispers lovingly, kissing your earlobe as he slowly thrusts in and out of you.

“Your noises are to die for, you are to die for, i can’t get enough of you.” George loved praising you during sex, he always took pride in doing so.

“G-George, please.” You whisper, George looks up at you, with a questioning face.

“Please, faster! Please!” You moaned out, George gave you a smile and kissed your cheek as he went faster, but not too fast, just slightly faster than the pace he was going. You moan out as he brings his fingers down to your clit and rubs circles round it, making your legs shake. You could feel your orgasm getting closer and creeping up on you like it was the grim reaper.

“George! Im gonna cum, please!” You cried out, all the worry, sadness, and insecurities you were experiencing early had completely disappeared. They were nowhere to be found. George always managed to make your worries and fears go away, it’s like he was magic. But to be fair, he pretty much was.

“Aw, come on pretty girl, cum on me, go on.” George groaned, feeling his own orgasm creep up on him, and before you know it, it wasn’t before too long both of you came together. You were shaking and moaning for quite a bit even after he pulled out and kissed your face all over. George laid on his side and brought the covers over both of you.

“Did that make you feel any better?” George asked, his hand holding yours, you look up at him with a smile.

“What was I upset about again?”

THIS WAS KINDA CHEESY BUT WOOOOAH I LOVED IT

#classic rock #classic rock imagines #george harrison #john lennon #paul mccartney #ringo starr #the beatles #the beatles x reader #60s #george harrison x reader #george harrison smut

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keeksandgigz · 1 year ago

Text

roll for initiative (part two of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: You venture into your new position at Eddie's cafe, but you seem to be having a hard time. Eddie gives you hell for refusing to be trained. The confrontation comes to a head after you say something you shouldn't have. A heated game of DnD leaves you wondering about the purpose of this place. Things heat up after you and Eddie close the store alone.

cw: 6.8k words, swearing, modern setting, Eddie and reader being mean to each other, shitty description of a DnD game, teeny bit of angst (sorry), horny sexual tension, smut, spanking, choking, not quite piv yet, fingering, denial this is 18+ minors dni!!

a/n: Surprise! One day early because I'm an impatient little shit. i dunno how to play DnD i'm going off whatever my boyfriend tells me. also kill em all IS the best metallica album, argue with the wall. Debated on making it a two- parter but i wanted to get to the smut <3 pls like and reblog! feedback always appreciated and my ask box is always open if u wanna talk!!!

baby taglist: @corrodedcoffincumslut, @sleepy-bunnie,, @crybabyddl (let me know if you want to be added!)

Eddie's right.

You're indeed crashing and burning as you make those stupidly named lattes, but the rest of the crew is nice enough to help you along the way. Virginia really is coming into her own, quickly mastering every drink that is thrown her way.

Yet you can't shake off the feeling of Eddie stalking towards you, his hot breath on your face. How it didn’t scare you, rather, it excited you. You enjoy picking fights with him, ripping him apart and him doing the same to you. It's not healthy, but it helps with your anger.

“Those were three pumps of elderflower. I believe you need four for a large, sweetheart. Crashing and burning so soon?” he comes up behind you, startling you.

“Get the fuck off of me before I throw this scalding hot drink at you” not when you're working. You cannot take his taunts while working.

“Just checking up on you” he shrugs “maybe you might have changed your mind about me training you. I know these are not the dumb little detox drinks you do at your cafe. Which is really what makes the store much more interesting and attractive, doesn’t it?”

“Eddie I swear to God” it becomes more than taunts. He seriously wants to fuck with your brain.

“Jeff” he snaps his fingers towards the guy “I’m gonna go take my lunch, you’re in charge ‘til I’m back” his attention diverts away from you for a second, then back to you. “Could you be a dear and make me an extra hot flat white with almond milk? Add a couple pumps of Irish cream syrup in there. I’m expecting a white dot, after all if you’re so perfect you don’t need training that’s gonna be a walk in the park for ya, huh?” he leans against the counter and he’s so condescending it makes your knees tremble.

“Yeah, duh. I’ll spit in it for ya too. Sounds good?” you panic a bit. Flat whites are not your forte.

“I knew you’ve been spitting in my drinks, sweetheart. Kinda hot, to be honest. But that’s a violation, wouldn’t wanna get Jim involved, do we?” he raises his eyebrows at you, looking down at you, making you feel like a coffee bean on the ground. Kinda hot.

“I was just joking, dickhead”

“Hm. Better be. Another filthy word from you and I’m sending you home.” he whispers. “Alright, going on my lunch. Virginia, you’re off you can go home, Chrissy, take your last break in thirty minutes” and with that, he disappears to one of the tables, watching you make his drink.

That should be a form of cruel and unusual punishment. Just him staring at you, making sure you get his drink right. Pull two ristretto shots.

You aren't buzzing anymore, rather, your brain begins shutting off, drained by all the tension that has been building between you and Eddie. Two pumps of Irish cream. Maybe you actually aren't good enough to be here. Froth the almond milk. Maybe he's right, maybe you are meant to work in a mediocre cafe, making shitty drinks. Espresso first, then milk. You aren't good enough for this level of mastery.

Fuck. No white dot.

You tremble as you walk towards Eddie, sitting at his table, watching you bring him a cup of mediocre coffee.

“No white dot” he says, looking at you with displeasure.

“I’m sorry, I-”he interrupts you.

“You wanna get trained or are you gonna be a little know-it-all and then deliver me this?” he sips on his flat white.

“Ok, fine. Train me, whatever.”Embarrassment overtakes you, wanting a hole to form under your feet and engulf you.

He's right, he has been right all along. Tears begin to prick at your eyes.

“You okay there? Y’know I was joking, right? It doesn’t matter I just-” a spark of guilt lights itself in his throat, you look like you're about to cry.

“Can I take a second?” you say, the knot in your throat threatening to snap any second.

“Yeah, um go- go take your break” he breathes. Fuck, he's made you cry.

You run off towards the back, wanting to disappear. Everything that has happened within those past two days begin to wash over you.

Your cafe is gone, the project you had worked on with your dad before he got sick, gone for the next year. And he’d likely not see it reopen.

Eddie being an asshole, holding a grudge on you because you took his customers, making your life a living hell.

You sit in the back as you wipe some tears that fell from your eyes. Across the room, there's a door that you have not seen before, and it's ajar.

Curiosity gets the best of you, as you walk into a small, secluded room. It's full of beakers and jars of ingredients, really selling the whole alchemist thing. You look through the ingredients elderflower, rose, peppermint, honey, basil. Basil syrup sounds disgusting.

You turn towards the work bench, noticing a bottle full of clear liquid labeled lavender syrup. You open it and immediately smell the astringent flavor coming from the bottle. You pour some on your finger and take a taste. Ew.

He needs a better lavender syrup recipe.

“The fuck are you doing in here?” Eddie’s voice makes you drop the bottle to the floor, shattering and spilling the astringent liquid on the floor.

“Oh- shit sorry! I was just- i just got curious”

“You can’t just come in here and act like you own the place. Curious my ass, you were trying to steal” he accuses, and that hurts you.

“You know I won’t fucking do that, I take my work seriously. Also your lavender syrup tastes like ass, and basil syrup? That sounds foul” you wince, stepping over the broken glass, to make your way back to the front.

He grabs your arm and stops you. “Aren’t you gonna clean that up? Broom’s in the closet” he says, offering you a smug smile.

“Get the fuck away from me, asshole” you reply, jerking away from his grip.

“Alright that’s it” is all he says before he slams you against the wall.

He's close. He's so fucking close.

Your back slams against the brick, hitting a random canvas panel. You can feel his breath on your face, the smell of coffee and cologne inundating your senses.

“You have been a fucking pain in my ass since you opened your dumb little cafe. You’ve been rude, unruly, untidy and down right mean towards me, and I’m fucking over it” he seethes, he has you caged in between his tattooed arms and all you can think of is tracing every line of his tattoos with the tips of your fingers.

“It’s been four fucking hours, y’hear me? Four hours and I’m sick of you. Y’think you’re cute? You’re a fucking brat, sweetheart, and I don’t like dealing with brats like you.” Your stomach feels funny, like you're taking on a challenge rather than a scolding.

“Clean your shit up and go home, I don’t wanna see your fucking face today. Come back when you have gained some common sense in that empty fucking head” he lowers his arms, but you aren't done.

“Or what? You think you’re so scary, Eddie, with your stupid tattoos, your fucking stupid hair and your stupid satanic shirts. I don’t give a shit who you are, I’m employed to work here and you can’t fucking send me home because you don’t like me. I’ll fucking report you, freak”

Freak. His breath hitches at that, years of high school bullying getting under his skin again, making him swallow hard at the unwelcome memory of being slammed against a locker on Monday mornings before class. He stiffens up.

“Alright” he swallows “clean this up and get back to work, I don’t wanna see you right now” you notice that his demeanor has changed, you visibly hit a nerve. Guilt pools at your chest.

“But what about- about the training?” you ask, voice hitching.

“I’ll get Gareth to train you, Virginia should have gone home already. That way we’re both happy. Take tomorrow off, I’ll see you Tuesday” and with that he leaves.

He keeps himself buried in his office until the end of your shift. He can't bear to stand the sight of you, not after you had called him a freak. That stung more than whatever stupid insult you could have flung his way.

When you turn up on Tuesday, Eddie is nowhere to be found.

“He took the day off,” Steve says. And you feel real fucking bad. You're scheduled for a mid- shift from three to seven.

“Hey” Jeff says “we’re closing early today ‘cause we’re doing a DnD campaign after. Since Eddie’s not here, would you mind taking over for me so I can start setting up? We close at six-thirty, so after that you can, like, sweep, do dishes and then you can go home”

You aren't in the mood for a snide remark or a witty comment, so you just agree. “Is Eddie gonna be here tonight?” you ask. You’ve been trying to hound him to apologize for whatever happened the day before, it's clear he's avoiding you.

He was supposed to be on the schedule.

“Yeah uh” he replies “he’s our DM, so we kinda need him” he shrugs.

“DM?” you froth a cup of oatmilk, turning towards him while he's making his drinks.

“Yeah. Dungeon Master?” he gives you a Isn’t that obvious? expression and goes back to his iced hazelnut macchiato.

“Kinky” you retort, he laughs a bit.

At six-thirty you lock up the store and you confine yourself to the back for dishes. Keeping an ear out for Eddie’s voice, hoping he’d show up before 7.

Colette left with Steve to work on the Halloween menu and “I don’t fuck with that nerd stuff” said Steve, fixing his glasses after putting his coat on.

“…no Henderson you don’t get it “Kill ‘Em All” is definitely Metallica’s best album, are you shitting me? …No don’t come at me with that “Enter Sandman” bullshit you’re so basic for that, you fucking poser” your ears perk up at that. It's definitely Eddie.

You peek your head out of the back door to see him set up a big table, followed by a bunch of what look like high school students as they sit down, with their spiral notebooks and pens.

A bunch of small figurines scattered on the cardboard mat as Eddie sits at the head of the table, pulling out a leather bound folder covered in stickers and a cardboard screen.

They're serious about this.

You're too busy staring at the crowded table to notice Eddie running towards you.

"Daddy didn't teach you it's rude to stare?"

You press yourself against the green tile wall to let him pass, words caught in your throat as you follow him into his office.

"Apparently daddy didn't teach you that stalking is bad either. What is it? Need somethin'?" he spits out and you can feel the venom in his words.

"Yeah, I just" you clear your throat. Talking was hard. He cocks an eyebrow at you as he begins rummaging through his desk drawers.

"Well?"

"I just wanted to apologize for-"

"For being a bitch the other day? Took you long enough" he scoffs as he retrieves a small tin box containing what you assume are dice.

"Um- yeah. I guess that" you shrug and turn your feet to leave the door.

"I need to hear you say it, sweetheart. It's not a real apology otherwise, is it?" he has this ability to make you feel so incredibly small with only the power of his words. Like he's talking to a toddler.

"I don't think that's necessary, Eddie, I mean um- I have to get back to work" you protest.

"You can go back to work when you give me a full apology" he's ticking you off, gloating in his victory of you admitting defeat. The white banner you're waving slowly turning red.

"You're being a cunt, take the apology and go play your stupid nerd game" you snap, and you can see his lips curling in a wicked grin. Challenge accepted.

"All this talk of me kicking you to the curb for your filthy mouth really isn't sticking huh? Sorry sweetheart, can't accept an apology you don't mean" he shrugs, heading out of his office, you follow him suit.

"Eddie what the fuck?! Are you actually mental?" you want to strangle him, shove those dice so far down his throat he chokes and dies.

"I'd recommend you scrub those dishes really hard, I can still see the grime on the blenders. If you'll excuse me, I gotta lead my party through the rivers of Bagodan" he winks and then he walks over to his table, leaving you mortified.

You do a once- over with the dishes, while hearing Eddie's shrill voice screech and laugh every time one of his players miss. What's so fucking funny about a couple kids rolling dice?

"Looks like you've made it to the last river" he narrates in a solemn voice, deeper, hotter "Oh, but what is that? You hear shrieking from a distance. It's a sphynx. To cross the river you have to behead the sphynx and bring it to the king of Bagodan. Only then he will grant you access to the wings of Saurion the Elder, and you... will be... free" he says in a whispered tone.

"What do you do, my brave adventurers?"

"Shit" you hear one of the kids swear, he's tall with black hair. "We don't have enough hit points to kill the sphynx AND get through the king's palace guards"

"You’re astute dipshit, congrats!" says another, a girl, looking much younger than the rest.

"We would have had enough points if Dustin here, hadn't fucking sold his to the market for a stupid cloak" says Gareth, shoving the kid who you assume is Dustin

"it was aN INVISIBILITY CLOAK" Dustin yells. The room booms in laughter at the kid's tantrum.

It makes you think. About how you've never had a group of friends like that. Someone to share a common interest with. Sure, you have Colette, but you've moved to town just fairly recently, and you have lived and breathed work for the first two years. No friends to make when you're cooped up home buried in projects among projects. No friends to make when your dad is sick and you have to take him to the hospital on Saturdays for his treatment. You sigh a bit at that. Maybe your cafe exploding is the catalyst that is gonna bring you a new life, a new perspective.

Coming to a store that has unity as a top value really makes you reflect on how lonely your life has been so far.

"Alright children, let's take a break and you can talk strategy. Anyone want a drink?" He stands up from his chair and walks towards the bar. Startled, you go back to the sink and begin scrubbing.

"Y'know you can join us, right?" he leans against the green tile wall, looking at you.

"Join in on that nerd shit? No, thanks. My shift is over" you say putting the last blender on the drying rack and heading to the back.

He follows you "Okay, whatever. I just wanted to tell you it's gonna be me and you tomorrow. Chrissy said she can't make it. Something about midterms" and you roll your eyes.

"Fucking perfect. Tell me in what world does this shit always happen to me" you say exasperated, taking off your apron, which allows your shirt to rise just enough that it gives Eddie a peek of your tummy. Enough to make him gulp a little. Enough to distract him for ten seconds.

He shakes his head. "Listen, I'm not happy about it either, but let's keep it civil, okay? I do my thing, you do yours, we're outta here by 9 pm" he offers, leaning over the metal lockers.

You're not sure if it was the Dungeon Master demeanor he keeps on for the sake of his game or what, but he feels so tall. The thought of it makes you shiver. You put on your jacket.

"How you gettin' home?" he asks.

"Driving" you lie, your car broke down the day before, but you don't want him offering you a ride.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow for closing, then" he says, giving you a tight smile.

"Yeah, bye" you respond hastily, heading out towards the bus stop. Eddie keeps an eye on you through the store window the whole time.

Wednesday night at the "Mad Alchemist" is busier than you expected. Steve left for the evening, leaving you and Eddie to man the fort by yourselves.

Meaning you have to watch him flirt with every fucking customer. Young, old, boy, girl. His self assured demeanor is like a magnet to those coffee- hungry teens, the older women just blush and deliver him a meek "aw, stop it, Eddie" swatting the air and giggling.

Because you both have been so busy, it has not given you time to run your mouth and deliver him some snarky comment.

By 8pm, the store is closed. You have an hour to sweep, clean the counters, mop and do the dishes while Eddie counts the money at the register.

There is a tense quietness in the cafe. Almost as if you know that if one opened their mouths the world would explode. Or you’d start fucking, whichever one comes first. There is no noise aside from the register opening, the broom dragging across the floor and Eddie whistling.

After a day of talking, listening, screaming, shouting, the last thing you want to do is hear Eddie whistle. You let him do it, one minute, two minutes, five minutes in hopes he would get tired.

“Eddie, please” you whine.

“Helps me count money better,” he shrugs, beginning his atrocious whistling again.

You wait one, two, five minutes again. The noise of the sweep and the whistling and the money become too much for you, so in an exasperated rage, you kick the chair in front of you.

“Eddie shUT THE FUCK UP!”

The noise of the chair is the only sound in the building. Eddie stops counting, and stops whistling.

He's just staring at you. At the fallen chair. At the broom next to your feet. You find the floor to be really interesting.

“Pick it up.” Eddie’s voice is distant. A few seconds go by, and your eyes are still on the floor.

The sound of paper being put down and the stomping of heavy boots follow, until his boots arrive in your line of sight. You can't help but raise your head.

“What part of ‘pick it up’ does not register in that head? Hm? Do you kick chairs at home?”

Defeated, you shake your head.

“Do you call your daddy names?”

Another head shake.

“Do you spit in your daddy’s coffee in the morning?” his voice becomes a whisper, so, so close to your face. So close to your lips.

“I didn’t-” he cuts you off.

“I don’t appreciate liars, sweetheart. Did you spit in my drink?” he's cornering you, making you feel small.

You nod. “Only once, though” you defend yourself.

“Only once” he mocks, chuckling to himself “sixteen.” he mutters.

“Sixteen is the number of times, from the first time i stepped foot in your goddamn cafe, I’ve seen you spit in my fuckin’ drink” he seethes, no, growls.

“Now you’re fucking lying” you interject, finding a small crumb of courage within you.

“Don’t act cute, I’ve seen you. Pick the chair up” he says, his chin tilting towards the chair on the floor.

“I can’t pick it up if your stupid arm’s in the way, can I?” he grunts and moves his arm. You bend over and picked the chair up, breathing through your teeth. You're furious.

“Watch your attitude, here we don’t-”

You snap your neck around “You’re a fucking control freak, that’s what you are” you mutter. There's that word again. Freak.

“Don’t you fucking dare call me that word again” he's furious.

You turn around to face him. It's your turn to be close “Or what? You gonna spank me?” it's barely a whisper, looking at him through your lashes. A challenge.

He exhales, crossing his arms “You know what? That’s the best idea you’ve had since you’ve stepped foot in this place. Bend over the table” He whispers, and you freeze.

If there is a definition to fuck around and find out, you're it.

“Seems you might be a bit hard of hearing, sweetheart. I said bend over.” he says, more gently, yet keeping that domineering aura to him. He nudges your arm.

You quietly follow through.

“Now you’re following orders. Before I start I need to know you’re okay with this” he whispers, caressing your back in an almost soothing manner.

You nod.

He tuts “None of that shit. I’m not doing anything until I have your green light. With words”

“I-” words suddenly become hard. You swallow and breathe through your nose “I’m- I’m okay with this”

There is no denying you're extremely turned on, in addition to being revved up by your previous fight. It feels like wildfire spreading itself from every tip of your body, finding a home right between your legs.

“Alright, good. If you want me to stop we can stop at any time, just say ‘chainmail’” he says, looking around to check if the blinds had been lowered. He has a safeword. He knows what he's doing.

“O-okay” you say with all the power you can muster.

“You wanna act like a toddler, sweetheart? I’ll treat ya like a fuckin’ toddler” he says, before delivering the first smack right on the meat of your left butt cheek.

You’ve tried spanking before, with previous partners, but this is different. The smacks are calculated, like he knows where to hit. A yelp escapes you.

“Need ya to count” he says, caressing the area he just hit.

“‘Kay, fuck. One” you exhale, still feeling his handprint on your ass. The red hot sting from the impact leaving tiny pinpricks through the fabric of your jeans.

Smack. Two.

“How ‘bout this?” he stops, speaking to no one, really. “How ‘bout I give you one spank for every time you’ve spit in my coffee, hm?”

That makes you tremble a bit. Sixteen slaps.

“I dunno if I can, I mean I-”

“Then you know what to say if it gets too much, right? Say ‘Yes, Eddie, I do’” his voice makes your knees give out as his other hand, the one that isn't squeezing and groping your ass, makes its way into your hair and pulls.

“Ow- Fuck, Jesus Christ Eddie!” you yell, but the pull at your scalp makes you wish he’d drop the antics, pull your pants down and fuck you immediately.

“Not what I wanna hear, sweetheart. Try that again” He smacks your ass again, pulling his hand out of your hair to hold your back down from the waist.

“Three, fuck. Yes, Eddie, I-I do” you exhale and prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Good girl,” he says. Good girl. He could easily smack you in the face and that is would shock you less. Where the fuck did he learn all this shit?

By the time you’ve reached spank number ten you think you're ready to tap out. Tears welling in your eyes, making your vision go blurry. You're turned on, but Eddie’s heavy hand is becoming too painful.

He notices you trying to squirm away from him with every hit of his hand, all he says is “You know what to say, don’t you, sweetheart?”

But you let him keep going. Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen.

The last slap feels like the roughest, leaving in its wake the phantom of a heavy hand. His hand rubbing circles on your ass, almost like he doesn't feel ready to stop touching you.

You turn your head around, so you're able to see his face.

“Mmmm, so what now?” you ask, still hazy “Gonna take me home, Eddie? Finish the job?”it's like your brain has forgotten who you are talking to.

“C’mere” he says, sitting you down on the table, your ass rough and sore under the fabric of your pants.

You can feel the slick feeling between your legs through the seam of your black jeans, hoping he’d move you to keep going, take you home, his office, his van, anywhere.

His body settles between your legs as his hands run through the expanse of your stomach, your back. Your hands make their way to the buckle of his belt, trying to quickly undo his jeans. Eddie inhales as if to convince himself to stop you as he grabs your wrists and pushes them to your chest, his belt left unbuckled “Not tonight,” he murmurs.

You pout in protest.

“Aww, you’re pouting” he mocks, a dry laugh escapes his lips. It brings a twang of embarrassment "pouting 'cause I'm not letting you take my dick in your mouth, sweetheart?" he taunts.

“I‘m not pouting” you mutter, looking at the floor. His hands grab your chin, lifting your eyes to make you look up at him. He looks so tall standing over you like that, eyes still glossed over, pupils blown from the spanking he’s just given you.

“You look at me when I speak to you, yeah?” Oh fuck. You know better this time.

“Yeah” you croak out, nodding your head in case he doesn't get the message.

“Yeah? You liked getting spanked? Being put in your place?” his demeanor never fails in making you feel impossibly small.

The hand that holds your chin travels down your neck and you lean into his touch, in the way his hand wraps itself around your throat, warm and rough. Who are you to say he isn't gonna strangle you and kill you?

But the feeling of his hand around the column of your neck, covering its whole surface area feels too intoxicating, like you want him to make you stop thinking. Your breath hitches.

“You’re lucky I didn’t have my rings on. With the way you’ve been running your mouth you would’ve more than deserved it” his grip on your neck going from resting to actually applying pressure to the sides of your throat. You gasp.

He just watches you, eyes glossy and desperate while you try to press your thighs together to relieve some pressure. Poor thing. He almost feels bad for you. The way he sees you keen into his touch, labored breath, watching your chest rise and fall slowly.

“We can’t do this here, Eddie. The health violations” you say, barely a whisper, mustering whatever breath and thought you can. Your brain feels foggy and fuzzy with the slight pressure of air being constricted. He chuckles.

“Didn’t you go to UCLA or something? Aren’t you supposed to be really smart?” his tone is mocking, you swallow at the embarrassment, hand letting up on your throat to grab your hand. He isn't here to be soft with you. He is here to make a point.

“Me choking you got you actin’ all dumb already?’M impressed. C’mon get off the table, we can’t be here” he says, making you stand up.

“Where- where are we going?” you feel winded, and you haven't even done anything. He leads you through the cafe, the bar, the back of house, where the drying dishes sit abandoned on the rack. Right at the threshold to his back office, the cold green tile arch pressing against your back.

“I don’t know, but I really wanna kiss you right now.” and you feel like your breath has just gotten knocked out of you. He wants to kiss you?

"You wanna- huh?" he slams you against the wall, just t prove a point "Shut the fuck up" he says as he puts his lips on yours. Famished, animalistic.

There is no room for gentleness. No room for sweet caresses and soft praises. His hands groping and feeling your hips, grinding into him. The friction against his tattered jeans make a whine escape you. Too much and not enough.

His teeth clash with yours as you both open your mouths, the way he tastes made you dizzy. His mint gum and cigarettes inundate your senses as you pull at the hair tie that is keeping Eddie's unruly hair in place.

Reaching under the mane of hair, you pull at his nape, where his curls are smaller, more defined. He groans.

His nose skims your jaw and licks at the hinge between the bone and your neck, making you yelp. A small oh escapes you when his hands work to untuck your shirt out of your jeans, his cold hands sneaking past the barrier of clothing to touch at the skin of your stomach, the sides of your breasts.

His mouth is warm against your neck, tracing every ridge, every line, every mole, 'til he reaches the juncture between your neck and your shoulder and he bites.

"Eddie, you fucking freak don't bite me" you hiss, head thrown back as he lifts your shirt up, leaving it completely abandoned on the floor.

He moves you off the wall and into his office, mouth not stopping his assault on your neck, stumbling towards his cluttered desk. With one move, a space big enough for you to sit is created. His shirt comes off in the process. His pale chest, skinny, but toned and littered with tattoos, is the only thing you are able to pay attention to.

"I hear that fucking word come outta your mouth again I'll-" he begins.

"You what? More spanking? Consider me terrified" you interrupt, all an evil plan to egg him on. Blinking your eyes up at him. He is seething.

"God, do you ever shut up?" he asks, a groan leaving his lips continuing to kiss you, teeth and tongue and spit, his hands coming out from under your shirt to grab your chin.

You look up at him, hair wild and unruly, eyes blown out, a wicked glint in his eye, almost like he's plotting something.

“Open your mouth” he says, and you looked at him, a puzzled look on your face. He squeezes your cheeks in response, forcing your mouth open. “You fucking brat” he mutters.

You keep your mouth open, expecting his finger, something. Instead, a glob of spit makes its way onto your tongue. He spit in your mouth. You throb.

“Eddie what the fuck-” you begin, but he interrupts you.

“You didn’t seem to mind spitting in my coffee, did you? Consider this a payback. Swallow it.” he smirks against your lips, lightly tapping his fingers on your cheek, not quite a slap. You obey immediately for the first time that night.

His hand travels down to the seam of your jeans, your breath becoming more labored with all the building tension from the night.

“Eddie…please” you whine, arching into his hand, not wanting to pull back anymore. You want release, brain hazy with the feeling of being under him, the way his rough hands are touching you, exploring you, grabbing and groping at the curves of your body as you arch into him.

His hand begins moving back and forth, the heel of his palm making direct contact with the seam of your pants, forcing a strangled whine out of you.

You grind your hips in sync with his hand, as the other sits on your cheek, cupping it, moaning in his mouth at the small amount of friction he's giving you. “Can I take your pants off?” he asks, soft against your mouth. You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

He quickly makes work of taking your shoes and jeans off, pooled at his feet while his hands caress and grope their way up your thighs.

“You’re cute when you’re not being a cunt, you know that?” he whispers against your mouth, hand ghosting over your panties, practically feeling the heat radiating off of you.

“Fuck you, Eddie,” you say through gritted teeth, motioning to hit him in the chest. He stops you, grabbing your wrists with his hands.

“I suggest keeping that filthy mouth at bay if you really want me to do something about that big, wet patch on your panties, hm?” he whispers, licking your bottom lip, his hand still keeping an iron grip on your wrists.

“How ‘bout you stop being a cunt and fuck me?” you’ve had enough of his teasing and taunting.

“Who said anything about fucking?” he chuckles, his hand moving down to grope at your ass. “No, see, that would be improper, don’t you think? Fucking your boss in his office. You kinky bitch” he delivers a sharp smack down to your ass, reviving the dull sting from the spanking earlier.

“You’re not my fucking boss, Eddie. Stop talking and- ohmygod”

His other hand begins massaging over the crotch of your panties, making direct contact with your clit over the fabric. “Made you this wet from spanking you? Think you might have actually been the freak this whole time, sweetheart.” He hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties “Lift.” He taps your thigh, you immediately lift your hips to let him take your panties off.

He laughs when he sees the mess that he’s made of your pussy.

“Fuck stop- stop laughing” you whisper out while his hands begin to spread your legs further.

“I think you secretly love me laughing at you. You think you’re so tough, bein’ all mean, callin’ me a freak like it doesn’t turn you on just imagining how much of a fucking freak I really am, huh sweetheart?” he skims your jaw with his nose, his words making you shiver as you clench around nothing.

His free hand sneaking its way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you squeak.

Your hips lift off the desk, looking to find some kind of stimulation aside from Eddie’s cruel teasing touches.

He looks at you through his dark lashes “What is it, baby?” baby. baby. baby. The nickname makes your head spin.

“Eddie, I- fuck- please! I need-” your hips arch off the wooden surface as you feel his fingers prod your entrance.

“You need my fingers? Can you ask me nicely?” you want to kill him. He's reveling in the torture that he's putting you through.

“I f-ucking ah hate you” but you aren't really sure if you believe that yourself.

“You hate me sweetheart? I’m hurt. You won’t mind then if I just leave you here, do you?” he caresses over your inner thigh, the tips of his fingers coated in slick, clear arousal.

“No!” your hips lift once again “your fingers…please” His smile is pleased as one of his fingers enter you.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Good girl.” He's making your head spin, a choked noise leaves your lips as he pumps his finger in and out, finally getting the stimulation you need.

“More” you whisper, his other hand still on your throat.

“So greedy. Y’gonna thank me? Say ‘thank you, Eddie’”

At that point you can't even think about acting up. “F-fuck. Thank- thank you Eddie” and with that, he adds another finger.

God, you already feel so full and teetering the edge.

“Good girl. Now that I think about it, I believe you owe me an apology” he begins, his fingers working mercilessly inside you, while a string of breathy ah ah ahs are all the sounds you could muster.

“You were so mean to me the other day, I didn’t appreciate your tone while you were trying to apologize” he taunts, his fingers prodding deeper inside you. A small yelp escapes you.

“You were- you were ah” his fingers curl on your g-spot and your vision goes white.

“What was that? I was what, baby?” he begins to thumb at your clit, smiling like a maniac at the state he's reducing you in.

“Oh yes there” no idea how you're gonna finish your sentence.

“Feels good huh? Needa finish what you were saying, sweetheart, can’t have you going stupid on me just yet” his hand on your throat moves up to your cheek, delivering a couple light smacks to your face. You clench.

“Fuck, uh, you we-were being a oh god cunt” you say, mustering all the mental strength you can.

“Is that right? Funny how my fingers are in yours right now and you don’t seem to complain.” He laughs to himself, his thumb speeding up its assault on your clit.

“C’mon, sweetheart. I just need you to say ‘Sorry Eddie, I won’t be a bitch to you again.’ Can you say that or is your brain too fucking far gone to understand a single word i’m saying?” he teases, which briefly brings you back from the ecstasy of Eddie’s fingers working wonders on you.

“Fuck you, Eddie” you hiss through your teeth, immediately regretting it at the feeling of the coil in your belly beginning to tighten.

“Oh. It’s like that then. Alright” he simply says as he picks up his pace. Head thrown back as you revel in the feeling of nearing the edge of your release.

“Oh shit, get-getting close” you breathe.

“Apologize and I’ll let you cum” he smiles, a wicked show of bared teeth that only makes you both want to punch him and fuck him.

“Fuck n- Oh God- ‘m not apologizing for- for shit” you arch your back, trying to make yourself cum before he changes his mind.

“Fucking apologize” he insists.

“Fuck you” you say, followed by the unwelcome feeling of emptiness as he takes his fingers out. You really thought he was bluffing.

An empty ache grows in your stomach, feeling unfulfilled and disappointed. You sit there in disbelief, as he cleans his fingers off with a tissue.

“Pity” he shrugs “Get dressed, I’m taking you home” he turns around, heading towards the front.

You throw the box of kleenex at his head. You miss.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” you jump off his desk, ignoring the dull throb between your legs as you put your panties and jeans back on, following the trail of your clothes he left in his wake.

“Could’ve said sorry” he just says, closing up the register, while you put on your shirt and shoes “C’mon my van is around the back” he offers, grabbing his keys.

“I’m not fucking getting in your car. I can drive” you protest.

“Yeah, uh huh, you and what car, you fucking liar? Saw you at the bus stop the other day, and your car isn’t in the parking lot. You either let me drive or you can sleep in here tonight.”

You let him drive you home. The sound of Judas Priest blaring through the speaker only makes the stubborn silence between you two louder.

The ten minute drive to your house feels like an hour, as you itch to get off the dingy van and take care of what he left unfinished.

He finally parks up in front of your house, you quickly book it towards your door as he shouts “You’re welcome sweetheart” before you fumble with the keys and enter inside. He stays there until you do.

Your dad was asleep already, so you crack his bedroom door to check up on him. You sigh. Everything seems to be alright.

Once all the lights are off, you run towards your room. Still in disbelief of what happened with Eddie, you strip off your coffee- smelling clothes, wincing at the thought of Eddie’s hands sneaking under your shirt, his fingers hooking on the sides of your panties.

The feeling of hatred and arousal battling each other off while you recall his stupid smiling face as he removed his fingers from inside you. The dull empty ache as you came down from the euphoria of his touch and words.

That night, you kick yourself for not saying sorry to him.

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