#I LOVE HIS FUCKING NOSE SCRUNCHIES

[sukunastoy]

Just a quick sketch I did while on break at work CAUSE I WANT TO DRAW SO BADLY ✨

I LOVED Sukunas cocky expression in the latest chapter when Judgeman gave him “death penalty”

My king truly gave ZERO fucks 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Of course I can’t draw him without the piercings 🤭 And I’m sorry but I love his “target” type shoulder tattoos, fuck it I’ll draw them how I want lmao

@charlie-xo @yuujispinkhair @skunaskitten @sunshine7queen @thirsteasaint

[avocado-writing]

Hi dear! I would like to appreciate your works. I really enjoy everything you wrote, Wish you have a great day! 💗

Since you're taking requests, could you please write Wade with a polite, sweet and delicate partners. He's with a person who's the definition of "Too pure for this world and MUST be PROTECTED at all cost" His partner showers him with love and validation, and always love to listen to him! Thanks! 💓

possibly based on real life events.

Wade Wilson is so in love, it must be sickening to everyone around him. 

In fact he knows it is and he does not care. He’ll say “look at this meme the love of my life sent me!” and the person who he shows will roll their eyes, as if you don’t have incredible taste in cat pictures. He’ll monologue constantly about how cute you are and how much he loves that scrunchy thing you do with your nose. He’s recited committed-to-memory facts about you so many times that his friends can parrot them too. 

“Yes, I know what their favourite film is, I know you took them to a special viewing of it for their birthday. It’s cute, Wade,” says Laura, patting him on the arm condescendingly. Well, it’s not his fault you’re so wonderful! There isn’t a single thing about you that’s not perfect. He’s constantly bowled over about just how much affection he can fit in his body for you. The other night he was going on about something stupid - he can’t even remember what now, maybe it was about the new Taco Bell menu? - and then realised you hadn’t interrupted him once to shut him up like most people would.

You’d looked over the top of your magazine at him when he’d pointed this out, brow cocked.

“Why would I want you to shut up? I like listening to you talk, Wade.”

Marry you. He’s going to marry you. Every day, then divorce you every day too so he can marry you again. 

You are probably too good for him. Most of his social circle thinks so. You’re patient and kind, when you’re not at your job - where you work at a charity adopting out senior animals, as if you could be any more of a fucking angel - you like to spend your time in his shitty little kitchen, baking desserts for him to get home to. He’ll find you getting Al to taste test for you and his apartment full of laughter and joy. 

Man, he’s definitely put on like, six pounds since the two of you started dating. He needs to be stronger in the face of your cupcakes. 

They are really fucking good though. 

He walks in that night with a plushie under his arm. It’s a cow. He remembers you mentioning offhand how cute you thought cows were, so he decided to grab the biggest one the toy store one the way home had just because he knows it’ll make you smile. You don’t need any more stuffed toys; you sleep with them all in the bed and they’re pushing him off the side at this point because of their sheer number but, well, he likes seeing you happy. 

And then he hears sobbing. 

“Sweetheart?” he asks, immediately panicked. Are you injured? Has someone come to hurt you - has he painted a target on your back because of his job? Bile fills his throat as he stumbles forward…

…and there you are, sitting in front of the TV, PlayStation controller in your lap as tears run down your face while the end of the game plays out. Wade has never felt such relief in his life, laughing as the ache of it is taken from his chest. You turn to him with wide, watery eyes. 

“Don’t you laugh at me, Wade Wilson!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But babe… are you crying at the end of Kingdom Hearts?”

“No!” you lie, trying to mop your face off with your sleeve. Then the music hits its crescendo from the crappy speakers and you start wailing all over again. 

He loves you. He’d kill a million billion people for you. It would take a hell of a long time but hey, one word and he’d do it. If anyone even lifted a finger to hurt you he’d execute them so thoroughly that every generation of their family would be wiped out of existence too. 

To put it in terms you’d approve of, he’d do anything for you. But he also knows you’d never ask him to. You’re just that wonderful. 

“… would it help if I got us take-out and you started playing the second one?”

“Uh-huh,” you manage to confirm. 

“I could be in this fucking game, beat Donald Duck’s little feathery ass. Disney, make it happen.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it. Pizza or Chinese?”

Taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk

[cherrynflowergarden]

hii! could you do hector fort bf head canons please? 😇

bf héctor headcanons || héctor fort

an; tysm for the request i hope you're happy w it:) i wrote this during my college hours hehe WE'RE LIKE 4 PPL AWAY FROM 500 OMG ILYSM the arda güler works i was writing hehe yeah i dislike them im gonna turn one into smau and let's see what i do w the other one im going to write for logan and carlos next 😠🎀

taglist; @eirianna @thebasicbiatch @katamcauley @wxnyzie @lilmear-blog @vrlixlia @star-fuck-off @embonbon @idkversace @annawilk @r0nnsblog @weluvwbb @c1ydessturniolo @vintagebishx @maddie-belle @timmdmdm @happydiplomatshepherdspy-blog @crispycitrus @faith-f1 @escapentropy @florscons @carlossainzwho @luckylampzonkland @lewisroscoelove @mudryklover @rageshots @dontworryaboutit007 @chair-things @myangelbaby555 @sheesh1311 @f1lovely @silia1raf

bf!héctor who despite looking so imitating is the sweetest boyfriend ever.

bf!héctor who calls you mi vida because you are his life.

bf!héctor who smiles so wide around you.

bf!héctor who acts nonchalant but not second someone mentions you all that act is down the drain.

bf!héctor who knows the sidewalk rule. he always walks on the side near the road. subconsciously, he does this with his friends too, since he's so used to it.

bf!héctor who finally gives in to your pleas and does tiktok challenges with you.

bf!héctor who loves being your passanger princess.

bf!héctor who lets you tie a bow around his bicep.

bf!héctor who loves gossiping with you.

bf!héctor who will attack you with kisses randomly.

bf!héctor who is the ultimate scary dog privilege. one wrong look at his girl and he's scaring the daylights of the person with his glare.

bf!héctor who is a cuddler. he needs your cuddles all the time.

bf!héctor who sends random pictures with the caption "this reminded me of you:)" to you almost everytime he's out.

bf!héctor who loves going for grocery shopping with you. something about it feels so domestic.

bf!héctor who tries to make breakfast in bed for you but ultimately fails. the loud clinking of the utensils definitely woke you up.

bf!héctor who talks to his mom about you.

bf!héctor who 'hates' when his mom tells you about his embarrassing moments and shows you his baby pictures. (no he doesn't he loves that his mother loves you enough to share all these with you)

bf!héctor who lets you colour his tattoos.

bf!héctor who gets matching tattoos with you. (if you don't want tattoos then he gets one dedicated to you.)

bf!héctor who loves when you steal his clothes.

bf!héctor who gets all shy when you call him by a pet name. (he was super shy and blushy the first time you called him a pet name)

bf!héctor who wears your scrunchie as a bracelet. he does this to one, let everyone know he's happily taken and two, for the time when you need tie your hair.

bf!héctor who needs your attention 24/7.

bf!héctor who playfully bites your nose.

bf!héctor who will flex his muscles randomly to get a reaction out of you.

bf!héctor who pretends to hate it when his friends tease him with your name.

bf!héctor who loves when you give him back and head scratches. no one but you is allowed to touch his hair.

bf!héctor who carries you on his back when you're tired.

bf!héctor who gets everything in your wishlist. he loves to spoil you.

bf!héctor who appreciates thoughtful and handmade gifts. he loves when you gift him a handmade bouquet. since he doesn't have much free time, he prefers to gift you small easy crafts.

bf!héctor who parades around with your lip stain on his cheek.

bf!héctor who loves neck kisses.

[netherfeildren]

Meet Me in the New Year

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary:  “We’re havin’ a baby this year,” voice boyish and shy and full of excitement and love. 

You peer up at him, cheek smushed against the ball of his shoulder. “We are.”

“Ready?”

You nod, slow, pulling his head down for another kiss. “Happy New Year, Joel.”

-OR-

The New Year's Eve AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No outbreak AU; New Year's Eve AU; Devoted Joel Miller; Established Relationship; Ringing in the New Year with your baby daddy like God intended; More fucking in your childhood home shenanigans; Pregnancy sex; Needy behavior; Older man/Younger woman; Daddy kink; Unprotected PIV; Creampie; Meet me in St. Louis is the best Christmas movie ever; Breeding Kink; Pregnancy Kink; Size Difference; How does one tag fingering?; Fluff and Smut; Praise Kink; PWP

A/N: One last post for 2023, and of course, I had to do a few of my favorite things; daddy Joel, creampies and pregnancy sex, yeehaw. Here's to a new year of more of the same, but WORSE and nastier.

I should be put in prison next year probably like omg but whatever. Have fun, I love you all lots!

This is a sort of follow up to Evermore

Word Count: 2.4K

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

MEET ME IN THE NEW YEAR

“Joel, what time is it?”

He looks down at you, tender look in his eye, dragging that big hand of his through your hair. Tresses slightly sleep damp and warm at the roots and gradually growing cooler towards the ends. Your parent’s living room is dark, only the warm shine of the Christmas tree coming from the front hall peering in around the corner into the comfortable, warm den. Meet me in St. Louis plays on mute on the flatscreen, Judy Garland rushing over to give John Truett a piece of her mind on Tootie’s behalf. “Look who it is. Thought I’d lost you for the night.” 

You groan, stretching your legs as far as the couch allows, knees popping hollowly, little toes splaying wide within the sweaty confines of the fuzzy Christmas socks he’d put in your stocking and which you’d been sporting for the past six days. You yawn wide, nose scrunching up at him and turning to nuzzle your face into his lap where you’ve been on and off dozing for the evening. Dinner had been so, so good, browned butter steak and baked potatoes and heirloom tomato, mozzarella salad, and you were so full and so warm and so content beyond imagining. “No… I’m awake,” you mumble against his thigh. “What time is it?”

“Almost midnight, I reckon.”

You turn to look up at him, giving him a scrunchy faced smile, “Didn’t miss it, ha. Knew it.”

“Oh, did ya?” His palm moves over the bowl of your skull to cup and squeeze the tender nape of your neck, big fingers gently kneading the fine, tight muscles there. “Gonna ring in the New Year with me, sweet girl?” Mhmm, you moan, nuzzling further against his sweats and the thick heaviness of his half hard cock. 

“You’re hard, daddy,” you whisper up at him while his fingertips slip beneath the neck of your pullover, running down the notches of your spine to reach your waist. He pauses there, his hand curving over the growing swell of your bump. 

He groans, head dropping onto the back of the sofa, and brings his other hand up to rub across his whiskered mouth. “Don’t fucking start.” You know it makes him crazy when you call him that, but you’d told him that you now have the excuse that he is actually going to be a daddy again, and so it’s only nothing but the truth. 

You press your fingertips to your mouth, hiding away your laughing smile. Your first Christmas as a little family of three. Sarah was away with her mother this year since she’d gotten Christmas with the two of you last year, and so the two of you’d decided to come to your parents house again, like you’d done for Thanksgiving last year. You’d been here for a week now, and Joel was starting to lose patience. The lack of alone time was needling as evidenced by the now fully hard and slightly pulsing erection digging into your cheek. 

He rolls his head to peer down at you, mock, chastising frown as he drags his hand over the small swell and up to your naked breast, squeezing gently. “We’ve been here too fuckin’ long.” And you moan, hiding your face against his thigh as he pinches your nipple, rolling it softly between his fingertips, thumb dragging around the sensitive puffiness of your areola. Your whole body had been, for the past several weeks, a coiled tight ball of nerves, everything swollen, everything wet, everything needing him. Like your skin knew, knew he’d been the one to do this to you, and wanted it more, wanted it again. 

You squeeze your thighs together, legs shifting and sliding against each other to relieve the knot of want he’s spin, spin, spinning with his fingers plucking at your breast. He switches to the other one, hand sliding beneath the heavy weight to lift it into his palm and squeeze. You turn to look up at him now, eyes wide when you can’t control the sound of the moan he forces out of you, mouth falling open, panting. Your breasts, going all tight and hot, needing his sucking mouth. “Joel–”

“What?” He teases, pulling his hand from beneath your sweatshirt and shifting to sit you up and press you back the opposite way on the couch, crawling over you to settle between your thighs he pushes open for himself, slightly to the side and sure to not crush you. “If your father catches us,” he whispers with wet lips moving across your throat, that same hand sneaking its way back under your sweatshirt, tongue against your pulse, “he can’t be mad, sweetheart. Already fucked you full’a my baby. Damage s’already done,” he snickers, mouth latching at your carotid, pulling hard enough you know he’s purposely trying to leave a mark. 

“You’re so bad,” you moan, arching up into his hand on your breast, his hot, sucking mouth. You want it on your cunt, you want that thick cock he’s rubbing against you, inside. He’s right, you’ve been at your parents house too long, too far into your first trimester to pretend at civility. You need your husband. 

“Not,” he huffs, damp against your collarbone. “Gonna give it to you so good, baby.” He wedges one hand behind your neck, holding you in place, while the one fondling your breast moves down between your legs, center gusset soaked slick already, and you flush at the flutter of muscles wrapped around his jaw when he finds you pantiless beneath your soft sleep shorts. And so what? Pregnancy had made you sensitive and achy. You need to be free, you tell him with an airy laugh. 

He clicks his tongue down at you, fingers slipping beneath the soft cotton to pet at the soaking wet tuft of curls with the back of his knuckles. “Pretty cunt’s all wet and hungry for me, isn’t it, baby?” And he’s all teasing grins and sparkly, self satisfied eyes as he searches gently for your clit, parting your folds to pet there slow and steady. 

Uh huh, you moan, hitching your foot up higher on his back, little heel digging into the padding of muscles over his ribs to find purchase. You let your other leg slip off the couch with a dull thud, socked foot rolling up on your tip toes so that you can cant and rock your hips against his too light touch on your cunt. 

“More, daddy, please,” you provoke, all breathless sighs as you roll your head in the cup of his palm, the heat of him seeping through the mantle of your messy hair, against your scalp. You feel him flex his fingers, tugging lightly at the sweaty roots, and he finally gives you more. Thumb sliding down to your weepy entrance, pressing there lightly, petting and circling, moving back up to press against your clit at the same time that he starts to feed you two fingers at once. 

You groan at him, scrunching your nose, but he just clicks his tongue, tutting you into submission and silence. “Take it,” he says gentle and low. You scratch at his shoulders, slipping your fingertips under his ratty t-shirt to get at his skin, using your bracing foot to rock your hips against his palm, rough callused palm catching a little painfully at your clit. You’re going to come so fucking fast like this. 

And fingers hooked forward inside of you, he jostles his hand a little, rattles your cunt so that all your wet rings loud in your parents dead silent house. “Hear how sloppy this cunt is for me?” He’s grinding his cock against your inner thigh, fat, blunt tip thrusting against the crease in your thigh over and over and you want it inside of you. You don’t care if you get caught, if someone comes down stairs. You want to soak his hand and then soak his cock and then have him carry you to bed and do it all over again. 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Gonna come.” Your lashes flutter shut as he lowers his head to bite your tit, hard and mean, over your sweatshirt, fingers fucking fast and loud, and your cunt goes tight, tight like a knot and then wet and loose and even sloppier. You’re so wet for him. Always. 

Fucking Christ, he groans against your breast, sucks harder, darkening the grey cotton so that the hard tip of your nipple is left molded and obvious beneath the soaked fabric. “That’s it. Come just like that, sweet girl. You’re so fucking wet.” And he doesn't’ gentle his fingers, pressing in a little harder, palm grinding against your clit and shaking his fingers up and down inside of you so that he’s jostling another tiny, almost painful, orgasm out of you. The wet sound of your pussy is so loud and so obvious, if someone were to come down the stairs, the sound of it would be unmistakable. “Gonna soak your mother’s nice couch, and then what’ll she think of you? Everyone’s gonna know exactly what you let me do to you down here.”

You’re pretty sure that’s what gets you over the edge that second time. The thought of everyone knowing.

He nuzzles at your breast, your neck, sucking and kissing, fingers still stretching your pussy, while he makes his way up your throat, mouth against the tip of your chin, and then finally to your mouth. Kiss, slow at first, all tongue and hunger, and then soft little pecks. The corner of your mouth, the bow of your top lip, the other corner. Open, he orders, and licks behind your teeth. Bossy man. You love him.

He pets gently at your G-spot, slow and careful because he knows it’ll be too much soon, letting your slick spill out and gather in his palm, drip down his wrist. “Pretty girl,” he says real quiet, “Keeping my baby so nice and warm in this little cunt. Aren’t you?” You whine up at him, bringing your foot up off the floor, trying to toe his arm away. He clicks his tongue at you again, but finally pulls his fingers from you, wet, sucking sound as he leaves your cunt. He brings his hand up to his mouth, fingers slick sticky and sweet, shiny in the dim light and licks himself clean. You watch him as he teases you, all eyes and laughter, wrapping your fingers around his too thick, hairy wrist, not meeting around it, and holding him there as he eats your wet out of his own palm. When he’s done, his mouth is shiny and glossed in you and he presses another kiss to your lips, forces your jaw open, hinged wide and eats you like you know he wants to eat your cunt instead. Later, he says, like he can read your mind because you’re pretty sure he actually can.

When he pushes the loose waist of his sweatpants down over his erection, no underwear either, you roll your eyes at him, and tell him old men aren’t supposed to be this slutty. But at the sight of that too thick cock nestled in his neatly trimmed bed of hair, the wide root leading up to the happy trailed covered belly, you concede that easy access is highly to your benefit. And when he wedges that said thick cock inside of you by way of an answer to your brattiness, fat head stretching your well used, wet hole, he slides in way too easy because you want him way too much. 

You moan open mouthed for him, and he presses your sweatshirt up over your bump, your swollen breasts, and finally gets his hot mouth on your bare nipples, teeth grazing lightly, pushing you into a higher, hotter level of desperation. You rock your hips up to meet his thrusts, close your eyes and listen to the slick sound of his cock fucking your cunt. “Lemme see this sweet belly,” he murmurs, cupping the small swell. The changes he’d incited in your body had made him a specific flavor of hungry you were going to miss when this was all over. “You’re so fucking beautiful, carrying my baby. You know that?”

And you’re all soft sighs and whimpers and his name as nothing but a moan, hitching your knees as high as you can to open yourself further to him. “Fuck, you’re gunna come again. Gettin’ tight as a fist,” he grits, hips swinging back and then forward, pelvis grinding so that he’s pressing on your clit and then pressing you into another full blown orgasm. It throbs through you, an almost unbearable heat stirring in your pelvis, walls of your cunt pulsing and milking the too thick, sometimes too big, weight of his cock inside you. It always hurts just a little and you always like it too much.

He pulls out suddenly, tiny flutters still moving through your muscles and sits back on his knees, turning you on your side and shoving your thigh up, pulling the now ruined shorts aside to line up and shove back inside. He braces his foot on the floor, one hand on the back of the couch, the other holding your thigh up and open for himself and drills down into your spasming cunt, mid orgasm, and there are tears in your eyes and you gnaw and slobber on the edge of your mother’s couch as your husband fucks you into one last orgasm. The previous one not even fully over. “Told you you’d fuckin’ take it,” he growls, balls slapping against the curve of your ass, temples shiny with sweat, throat all red and splotchy. “Fuckin’ shame I can’t knock you up again here in your parents house like I wanted to last time. We’re gonna have to try harder next time.”

“Told you, you’re so bad.” And you can barely speak as he starts to pump you full of his load, hot and thick so that you can feel it being forced out of your cunt while he continues to shove inside. 

When he’s finished, cleaned you up and tucked you back into his side, both of you choosing to ignore the wet spot on the couch you’d left and agreed to plead the fifth tomorrow if anyone asks, the movie is just finishing up. Judy and her beau are finally at the World Fair together. The clock below the TV rings midnight and Joel presses a soft kiss at the tender spot behind your ear. “We’re havin’ a baby this year,” voice boyish and shy and full of excitement and love. 

You peer up at him, cheek smushed against the ball of his shoulder. “We are.”

“Ready?”

You nod, slow, pulling his head down for another kiss. “Happy New Year, Joel.”

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

[romantique-dreams]

IT'S GONNA KILL ME - E.M

summary: your parents just happened to not be home, and hawkins' infamous sex-god needed an outlet for his anger, but pink rooms and relationships were not his thing.

wc: 3.8k

it's gonna kill me vol. 2 (here)

warnings: 18+ minors dni! spit kink, swearing, unprotected sex, p in v, choking, fwb (kinda), fuckboy/mean!eddie, making out, dom(ish)!eddie, creampie, masturbation (m&f), nipple play, petnames. that's all i can think of, but please let me know if you find more!

You could sense the way every time you would give Eddie a kiss, his body would go rigid. It wasn’t hard to ignore—he didn’t like physical touch when it came to purposeful intimacy. It was a routine for the both of you though; you’d meet wherever he saw fit, went inside, laid on the picnic table, leaned against the stall door, or sprawled out on the floor of his van. You would fuck like rabid animals, swap each others stash, and go your different ways. You were almost positive his heart was ripped from his chest. It was possible his core could have been filled with cement, with each ventricle plugged, or nerve endings severed to prevent the dreadful emotions from slipping in or out. 

“Where are we meeting tonight, hot stuff?” You sniggered over the other end of the phone.

“God dammit, how about you not call me that, yeah? And, well, my uncle is home.”

 Eddie hated pet names outside of making you feel good during sex. 

Your eyebrows pulled together while thinking of something. He was going to hate this. “You’ve never been to my house, what about here?”

“No can do,” his vowels were drawled out, “Pink, girly rooms, not my thing. Major turn off. Besides, your family is way too into each other, ‘makes me sick.” 

“Dude, get over yourself. Do you want to get your rocks off, or what? My parents aren’t home, I’m alone, no one will even see you pull into my driveway. I’m plenty far enough away from the main road.”

Eddie’s entire being shuddered thinking of being caught with you, and having to go through the ‘is this your boyfriend?’ conversation.

The line was silent until Eddie muttered under his breath.

“Alright, fine. I’ll just come there.” He hung up. 

“Love you too, sweetcheeks,” you sneered and slammed the phone down onto the receiver. 

Eddie went as far as shaving. He had a sex-god reputation among the girls in Hawkins, and there was no way he was going to lose that title due to being unshaven on one of the worst weeks of his life. He splashed some aftershave along his jawline, and rubbed some on the freshly shaven skin below his belt, a hiss escaping between his teeth. He dressed himself in a black and white flannel, the top two buttons undone, his mane framing his face and cascading down his back, with his infamous bulge-hugging black jeans. Regardless of anyone wanting to admit it at Hawkins, he was some goddamn eye candy. The metalhead placed himself in the driver seat of his van, he ruffled his flannel, and smoothed down the collar. He started his van, and drove off.

You had dressed yourself into a tight tank top that accentuated the apex of your breasts just right, and pulled your hair to the crown of your head in a ponytail held up by a tattered scrunchie that was tradition to use while sucking him off. It was in no time that he was pulling up to your driveway, hearing him stroll down the winding trail that led to a hidden house away in the woods. 

You closed your eyes and inhaled through your nose. You could feel it again. Why were you nervous? It wasn’t as if this was going to be different than any other time, it was merely a routine—each position and touch just another item checked off on the list. You and Eddie were each other's relief. While others meditated, you guys fucked. 

You gathered yourself, picking up all the sentiment that had seeped out onto the floor beneath. “”Sup, bitch?”

“Just here to fuck your brains out, I guess.” Eddie shoved his hands in his front pockets. 

“You should try taking a girl on a date first, sheesh.” You stepped out of the way and bent down, signifying royalty entering your humble abode. 

“Um, how about try shutting the fuck up?” He snipped back towards you while kicking his shoes off. “You know I don’t do that, I like getting to the point. Less hassle, less attachment, freedom.” 

“How do you even keep a girl around? Going on a date and actually having fun isn’t that barbaric to you, is it?”

He turned to you, eyes narrowing. “Let’s just say my skills make up for lack thereof in the dating department, ‘kay? And are you trying to go on a date, or are you trying to come? Because right now it seems like you want me to take you out and spend my hard earned money selling to minors on you. You gettin’ all mushy on me? Do I need to end this?” 

You shrugged with a sly smirk. “Believe whatcha’ want to believe, honey. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Eddie was taken aback. Was he really making that up because he wanted to, or did it just seem like you wanted to?

 He took a slight step towards you with his mouth pressed into a firm line, his jaw clenching tightly as the muscles moved under his pale skin. “Can you stop with the pet names, for the love of god?”

“Mmm—, I’ll think about it.” You shot him a finger towards him and then scratched your chin with a half-assed pondering look on your face. 

“You piss me off, you know that?”

“It’s what I do best, right?”

You were putting up a facade that didn’t feel like you, clearly. You enjoyed the banter between the both of you, but sometimes you wanted it to be laced with something for one another. You just wanted him to have some sort of care in the world, the smallest hope wanting it to be for you. 

“You’re insufferable.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You tell me all of the time, can’t forget.”

“So, are you going to show me to your bedroom, or are we just going to sit here holding our dicks in our hands?” He peered at you, sticking his head out with an annoyed look.

“Well, considering you’re the guest and all, and I’m a nice host,” you jabbed his chest with your finger that was still hanging in the air. “I was going to ask if you wanted water or anything, but you can’t wait to get into my pants, so I’m assuming you aren’t thirsty.” 

Eddie’s wall faltered, a brick crumbling and dropping to the ground. He stepped back from you while he fiddled with the metal around his fingers. You were just trying to be nice, that’s all, but all he could do was take his anger out onto you at the end of a long week. Wayne was on his ass, business at school was slow, and the shop had a month's wait that was filled with cars needing to be fixed. 

“I mean I could use some water, sure.” He was quick with his words and rounded the couch next to the entryway of your house. 

“Alright, I’ll be right back, ‘kay? Don’t get too impatient.”

His wall was reconstructed and his posture firmed. The couch was too hard, it was too sterile in here, it looked like no one even lived in here. His hands rubbed up and down his upper thighs, too uncomfortable to lean back. He was out of his element. These events never happened anywhere but his house. He didn’t have the comfort of his home to be able to keep up the crassness of his persona.  

You scurried yourself off to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water, hair trailing behind you as you turned the corner. You began to realize the neverending roller coaster of emotions you had purchased a ticket to when you first endeavored in this risque escapade with Eddie. He gave you whiplash with his constant demeanor changes and his vulgar words. 

You were quick to return to the living room with the glass of water in hand. You stopped in the doorway noticing his unyielding silhouette, he was sticking out like a sore thumb in your living room that was littered with family memorabilia. Eddie had told you once a small snippet of past life; the desolation of it all as his mom worked countless nights at the hospital, while his dad was out doing ‘business deals’, or so he told him. You could do nothing but hurt for him as he opened up to you. Although you were both stoned out of your minds, you appreciated the small intimate moment you’d cherish between the two of you. It had been the only occurrence, yet all you tried to do was get to know him from then on, and he never budged.

“Alright, order up!” You slid him the glass of water across the coffee table. 

“Yeah, thank—,” He began monotonously.

“You’re welcome my kind sir.” You bent before him and curtsied.

Eddie was quick to gulp down some of his water as you sat down next to him, setting the cup down after with a content exhale. He was still sitting upright, his back never touching the sofa behind him. This was not him, nor will it ever be. He didn’t do the cordial conversations in the living room, or the witty flirtatious remarks, or the talking stage in the first place. He was there to liberate all of his pent up emotions into you and get out. You were his release, merely but a short hour of his day. 

 You were quick to place yourself next to him with a raised brow. “Why do you look like you have an actual stick up your ass right now?”

Eddie turned to you and glared as he gestured between the two of you. “Because this shit is stupid, that’s why. I don’t want to be here longer than it takes to fuck you. Get in, get out. That’s all I’m here for, so can we get this show on the road?”

Your heart twinged within your chest. Was it really that bad to actually spend some time together without fucking your brains out? Was it oh so terrible to not be around you without your tits out? Those were questions that were meant to be left unanswered, unaccounted for; because in all honesty you couldn’t stomach the actual truth.

You clicked your tongue against your teeth and motioned towards the stairs. “Yeah, you’re right. C’mon, my room is upstairs.”

You briskly walked away, leaving a scrambling Eddie behind you as he followed to your bedroom. Without hesitation you slammed the door behind you, immediately removing your clothes from your body. Your blood was boiling, pumping hot beneath your skin and fuelling the fire that was burning. You grabbed Eddie by his broad shoulders while your fingernails dug into the fabric hanging off of them and stood him in front of you, following by undoing each button on his flannel. Your jaw was tightened and your eyebrows were low, pupils growing in size from the anger that resonated within you. 

Eddie looked down at you quizzically, both hands beside him in the air to surrender. He didn’t mind the idea, but your abruptness startled him. You never took initiative when it came to starting these moments, but he wasn’t complaining. 

You continued on with your mission; unbuttoning his pants next and removing them, completely taking his flannel off of his slender body. You were already shirtless and pantless by now, only remaining in your bra and underwear. You placed both of your hands onto his bare chest and shoved him down onto the bed, straddling him instantaneously. Your bra was gone within seconds as you ground your hips down onto his confined length, slotting your mouth above his. Hot, sweet breath was fanning against his cheeks as you stared at him with intensity. Eddie was the first to connect your lips together, with each eager kiss ending in you both gasping for air. 

“Goddamn, baby, what’s got you all riled up?”

First he’s mean, now pet names?

“You, asshole,” you spat at him as you slid your hand into his boxers, only after you spit into your hand. Your anger was evident in every movement you made. 

A sharp inhale was heard from Eddie as your velvety hand that was slick with spit connected with his now swollen cock, precum beading at the tip. You gave him quick pumps to his mid-shaft as you could feel it twitch beneath while your hand grazed the under ridge of his head. His head was thrown back, his hair cascading down to either side of his while his Adam's apple bobbed with each gulp he took. A carnal instinct was building within Eddie’s aura, he attached his lips to yours once more, savoring the sweet flavor of your saliva against his taste buds. 

Eddie wasn’t about to be the one taken control of. You made him come to your house, you made him come into your room, you were the one making him only think about you. He flipped the both of you in one fluid motion, a guttural groan escaping his lips as he pinned both wrists down against your duvet cover. 

“I’m going to set the record straight for ‘ya—,” He paused as his hair tumbled down to cast a shadow over your features, “I’m in charge, not you. It’s bad enough we’re at your house, in your room, got it?”

You were quick to submit, curtly nodding up at him, lips forming into a pout.

“Good, wasn’t taking no for an answer anyways.” He shrugged, pulling your bottom half to the edge of the bed. 

Eddie was quick to have his hands on you, making sure to let his hot touch linger on your skin. He danced his fingers down your side, harsh squeezes being made to each malleable part you held, sure to leave imprints in your delicate skin. Your lip was pulled between your teeth and you exhaled short breaths through your nose. He continued his expedition down to your puffy core with one slender digit trailing up between your folds and collecting your arousal. He replaced his now slick finger with two others rubbing abrupt circles into your clit, his other finger slipping between his lips and releasing with a pop. 

“Y’taste so fucking sweet, ‘ya know that, baby?” He cooed, a harsh contrast to his actions.

Your legs squirmed beneath him and your eyes shut tightly as crinkle lines formed by your lash line. Your body was jerking with each of Eddie’s swipes over your bud, electricity shooting to the end of each neuron in your brain. There was one thing about Eddie you couldn’t deny, when he said his skills in bed made up for where he was lacking, he wasn’t wrong. He was so good at making someone feel good. He knew just what made you give yourself up to him, and what left you wanting more. He could read you like a book, and had memorized each word with sticky notes next to each quirk that made you come in an instant. 

While his left hand was working his other had traveled to your throat, fingers wrapping around to the nape of your neck. The veins in your neck were bulging and you could feel the air becoming harder and harder to breathe, your air supply was being cut off now. Eddie could feel your rapid pulse that was bounding beneath his calloused hand, a smirk of satisfaction resonating on his lips. Your climax was building, but interrupted by his fingers sliding into you with an embarrassingly wet squelch.

The metalhead's fingers slammed into you with force, the edges of his fingertips were curled to graze the spongy spot with each entrance and exit. Your eyes were now rolled to the back of your head and your jaw went slack, mouth dropping down to touch your chest as you propped yourself up on your elbows. Gasps and chokes for air, slapping skin, and your arousal being spread beneath you were the only sounds heard in the room.

Positions were eventually switched and Eddie was soon enough plunging his aching cock inside of you. You swallowed him whole, each thrust inwards being met with a clench of your slicked walls. 

“God, you’re so fucking warm, fuck—,” Eddie cooed, pussy drunk already.

This was one thing you had over him. Your whole being when you were intimate had him intoxicated, so inebriated to the point you could get him to do anything for you. You wanted him to eat you out? Done. You want him to finger you a certain way? Done. Whatever it was, he was at your beck and call. You knew you were special compared to the other girls, the way he paid extra attention to all your curves and delicacies, but also sold to you for free on the side. You were higher on the totem pole compared to the groupies who hung around The Hideout.  

Eddie’s thrusts picked up in pace and depth, giving your cervix slight kisses with each dive into you. Your lips attacked the soft alabaster skin of his neck while your nails did a number on his back—scraping harshly, leaving puffy trails of red behind. Little did anyone know it, but you owned him. You always made sure to leave marks, whether that be just for you to see, or others. 

“Shit, baby. Y’gonna leave me lookin’ like a leper when I show up to school tomorrow,” he grumbled against your neck, syllables emphasized by his plunges. 

“That’s okay, god damn—, that’s fine. Gotta let them know I’m your favorite,” you hissed through your teeth, whimpers trailing behind. 

Eddie’s smirk glistened in the dim light of your room and he nipped at your neck. “You caught me there, you feel so fucking good compared to anyone else, mhm.”

Your orgasm was rising in your lower stomach, only noticeable from the immense heat flowing throughout your body, while pleasure kissed each overstimulated neuron. Your muscles were tensing; all the way from your calves to your jaw, the skin above going rigid. As Eddie continued his relentless pace your hands were entangled in the mess he called his hair, harsh tugs ensuing after. 

Eddie had come to the decision to really set you ablaze beneath him. His ring clad hand found its way around your neck once again, only applying pressure to the sides, making sure to be careful of not cutting off your airflow too much. How considerate. His mouth attached to your pebbled nipples, and gently rolled them between his two front teeth, while contrasting with brutal bites to the supple surrounding skin. He finished with his free hand moving to your clit, the sad, pitiful bundle of nerves that ached for him.

It wasn’t long before you were overstimulated.  “Eddie, ‘s a lot, c’mon,” you choked out. 

“Ah-ah, what did I say? I make the rules tonight sweetheart, fuck‒,” he grunted with a particularly gruff thrust into you. “I came here, this is my night. Do you understand?”

His words were succeeded with a splat of saliva from Eddie that landed on your tongue. You were quick enough to savor his taste sucking on the remnants dancing on your tastebuds. Something about him tonight seemed so primal, so salacious. You couldn’t help but succumb to him and nod your head. 

“Thatta girl.” His pace accelerated significantly to the point you were sure he was tearing you in half.

He raised an eyebrow towards you and released his hand from your throat to snatch your chin between his pointer finger and his thumb. “You’re gonna let go for me in just a second when I tell you to, okay? I want you to come so hard on my fucking cock while I come inside of you. I’m gonna let you have all of my sweet stuff, and make you all sticky and shit. Y’gonna feel so fucking dirty, ‘mkay?”

All you could do was nod, you were desperate. You were already robbed of your first orgasm, and each thrust of his was bringing you closer to the brink of your release. It was becoming painful, tears brimming at the bottom of your eyes. You had known from experience what it was like to come when Eddie had told you not to.

Eddie replaced your newfound necklace, his hand, and smirked. He had already angled your hips slightly upwards so your bottom was off of the bed, and your spongy spot was being hit with a relentless amount of force. Lewd sounds were filling the room—nothing but slicked symphonies and desperate whines were to be heard, and Eddie was the director of it all. Surely it was the most sinful orchestra you had listened to. 

With each dive into you, your breasts recoiled and your eyes screwed shut. A layer of sweat was visible now as small droplets formed at your temples and above your lip. You could feel it. Your orgasm was approaching and you were hoping to god his was too, practically praying on your hands and knees to have some sort of relief. It was as though angels were singing to you when you finally heard him speak.

“Go ahead, baby, come for me,” he gasped out as his own release came.

Your body jerked as the wave of consolation consumed you. With toes curling, hands ripping at the sheets beneath you, walls convulsing, and your back arching you were letting out the unholiest of sounds. Wetness pooled beneath you while Eddie’s potent seed covered your gummy walls. 

Eddie’s hips slammed into you a few more times until he was hopelessly rocking into your sticky hole, the both of you riding out your orgasms. He fell completely forward while small wisps of his mane tickled your neck. He let out a shudder and slowly pulled himself from inside of you. 

“Good, huh?” He chuckled and laid himself down next to you, a content sigh coming after.

“It was mediocre.”

This wasn’t a common occurrence for Eddie after your visits. He never laid down next to you, instead he was lighting up and ushering you out the front door as soon as you were dressed. 

He looked over at you, bewilderment covering his soft features while he slid closer. “You’re bullshitting me.”

“Great catch, smart one,” you quipped as you rolled your eyes. “I wouldn’t have came if it wasn’t mind blowing, ‘ya know? I have high standards after all.”

“As if you’ve ever been with anyone besides me,” he grinned. “Your standards are literally me, idiot.”

“Whatever.”

Eddie stood himself up from the bed, legs a bit wobbly as he carried himself over to your vanity. He bent down to inspect the damage done to his neck and back, gently tracing his fingers over the love bites that were beginning to form. 

“Looks like I’ll only be exclusively seeing you for the next week, my dear. Can’t have my other babes knowing I let you give me these, no one gets to mark me up.” 

Did he just say that? 

There was a strange feeling residing in Eddie, he wasn’t sure what it was. Did you just break through to him?  There was no way you had steam rolled the wall he built for himself when he was around you. It was secure, strong, fortified with every emotion blocker known to himself. Was it really all that bad? 

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose between his pointer finger and thumb as he let out a shaky exhale.

There was no way Eddie could possibly indulge himself in this mess, he couldn’t. Relationships weren’t his thing, or were they?

a/n: this was a whole process of writing, i apologize if it isn't my best! i have been very busy and mentally ill LMFAO. i hope everyone enjoys it tho! i'm very insecure about this one hahahads. i went through and proofread it myself, so i'm hoping there are no mess ups, but if there are please feel free to let me know! likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!

[t1ts-4-scattorcio]

Protective nat w a soft gf pls 🙏

Protective Nat x Soft GF Reader

You were known for being kind which is why it was odd to see you and Nat together, especially as girlfriends. Sweet quiet girl always looking for the best in people and an angsty grunge goth latched to her hip. 

The epitome of sunshine and dark cloud + has an attitude with everyone else but you. She can have the most sour expression on her face then is all goo goo eyes when she see’s you.

“Hey nat whats up?” Jackie asks, “Nothing.” 😒 ‘you enter’ immediately skips to you “Hey baby” 😍

She loves making you happy, she’s up for anything you want to do. She lets you do her makeup the way you want it when she comes over for fun. Sometimes it happens before school and she ends up walking in with pastel pink eye lids and loads of glitter on her face. Jackie and Laura Lee think the look suits her since they’re only used to dark colors.“Pink suits you so well nat!” “thanks” 😌

Color coordinating outfits. You would wear a floral dress and she would have a floral scrunchie to match

Nat doesn’t shy away from soft readers romantic advances you’re so sweet she can’t help but let you love her. Lottie and Van poke fun at nat “you’ve really gone soft Scatorccio.” “yeah yeah whatever” 🙄

Nat isn’t scared to break a few noses if anyone takes advantage of you though and is basically your shadow, everyone knows that where you go natalie follows so any asshole know not to fuck with you.

Get’s ansty when you’re drunk, once a guy harassed you during a party after you denied his advances. Insisted he was good in bed and better than Nat in any way possible. “You’re so quiet, Nat’s got you so wound up hm, I bet I can make you come out of your shell.” TF Did she just hear?? 🤨 She was so angry after overharing him she punched him so hard he ended up getting a concussion.

After that she makes sure she has an arm wrapped around you, sometimes making you hold onto her belt loop when she can’t hold your hand.

She isn’t afraid to confront anyone that speaks badly about you “y/n is so sensitive, I bet she’s fake as hell too.” Her head spins so fast “the hell did you just say??” Pinning the idiot that said that against a locker.

You’re so sympathetic to nat’s home life, you had a feeling nat was having a hard time and your heart broke when you realized why. Nat loves how you listen to what she has to say, you hold her while she sobs after having a screaming match with her dad or how negligent her mom is towards her.

She’s also attentive to your anxieties, suggests you go somewhere quiet to relax when you’re overwhelmed, outside on the benches in the soccer field or a secret corner in the library designated for the both of you.

[buckyalpine]

Imagine being obsessed with Bucky's nose. Every other girl fawns over his eyes, his lips, his dimple chin, his arm, his chest, then there's you. You’re always talking about how adorable his nose is. It’s so perfect. 

You love when he smiles because he does this little scrunch and its the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. 

He doesn’t know how to act when you gush over how cute you think it is. You’re not even together so he doesn’t know what to do with himself other than blush deeply and shy away from you. 

It’s all fine until  the rest of the team catch on and all he can do is grumble over how he doesn’t have a cute nose. The only person who can get away with it is you. It really is the cutest nose ever so they make sure he hears it every second of the day. 

“Awww look, he’s doing that lil scrunchy thing again!”

“Shut up Wilson”

“He’s like a bunny when his nose twitches” 

“Shut up Stark”

“Y/n’s right, it’s adorable”

“For fucks sake, not you too punk”

“He’s right Mr. Barnes”

“I’ll ship you back to Queens, kid”

“Adorable”  *boop* You walk by and lightly tap his nose, smiling at the way his cheeks blush immediately after, a goofy smile tugging at his lips. Everyone breaks out into shit eating grins when he doesn't give you a snarky retort, looking back at you with puppy eyes instead. As soon as you disappear around the corner, he glares at them, flipping them off while they all cackle. 

“Not. A. word” 

His mind turns into ABSOLUTE MUSH when you give his nose a peck, unprompted, just when you feel like it. He then breaks out of that trance and contemplates on wearing his Winter Solider mask again when others on the team try to do the same, just to fuck with him.  

I mean, its adorable, can you blame them? 

Anways, idk why I wrote this, I was just thinking about his nose, of all things. 

[thatmexisaurusrex]

The Fire is Inside the House

This is for @bucktommyweek's "Emergency" prompt. This is also the fourth story within the Denial-verse based on this loose ficlet I made. Enjoy! 🥰

(cover made from these photos x x)

The Fire is Inside the House

| Pairing: BuckTommy | Rated: M | WC: 79.1K | Chapters: 14/14 |

Summary: Evan "Buck" Buckley is fighting a wildfire with the 118, when he sees a helicopter crash - the helicopter of his boyfriend, Tommy Kinard. It's a race against time to find Tommy before the wildfire hits the crash site.

Excerpt:

Buck couldn’t stop smiling at Tommy. Tommy was just. Hot. And nice. And he showed up. Always. Fuck. Buck loved this guy. “What?” asked Tommy, and there was a hint of a smile there. “Nothing. I just like you driving me,” said Buck. And Buck could see that Tommy couldn’t help it, he smiled too; not quite the scrunchy kind, but that dimpled one he did. The morning was young. Buck could get his man to that scrunch nose smile. “Oh, you like a chauffeur?” asked Tommy playfully. “Only one as hot as you.” And there was the scrunch. “I only drive the hottest myself.”

READ THE REST ON AO3!

[richeeduvie]

just having obligatory daily roman tummy thoughts and had an idea <3 roman putting on a little bit of weight after baby jr is born cos they’re just focused on looking after her (read: tummy, hips, thighs, ass) and baby is understandably horny for him but it takes her loving on him for him to feel okay about it

You can't tell Roman that you've noticed his weight - that you love the softness of him now. It's slight, but it's perfect. You remember the dinners where he would order the fattiest thing just to pick at it, the grumble of his stomach when you held him later in the night.

You'll just have to enjoy it until he notices.

Roman takes an obnoxious bite of his candy bar before crumpling the wrapper. Your daughter squirms in his arms.

"Throw this away."

"Do it yourself."

Roman's brows raise as he stands. "Lazy Mommy."

You watch his ass as he takes his way to the garbage can. You watch Roman take your little, little, scrunchy baby's head to his nose as he breathes in.

There's more of him, a softer him. You'll love Roman's body whatever way it comes, but seeing the difference in weight in something new and beautiful.

A softness to grope at.

"...What?"

"Nothing."

"Slutty Mommy. You made me a Daddy and now she's a horndog. I'll see it in the eyes of every sad-sap woman who's probably not being sexually satisfied by their husbands. That sort of flirtatious leer."

I'll. Not I - Roman's not planning on leaving the place anytime soon, as much as you've been trying to convince him that his baby will be just fine in open air.

"But no one, penis possessor or member of the vagina flock, is as much of a whore as your mommy is."

Roman closes his eyes in pressing his nose a bit harder in her soft, small tuft of hair.

"That'll be the last candy bar, I've gotten unfocused and incredibly pudgy."

And it makes him feel like the ugliest fuck in the world. He feels sick, uncontrolled. It's only worth it because it's because of her. A perfect thing he can't stop fucking watching. Amazement, yeah, but also to make sure she's breathing because he'll rip his skin off if she stops breathing. She won't stop breathing.

His weight gains makes you feel incredibly lucky...and horny. You should thank your baby girl. For that - and also for being so perfect.

But he's noticed and the casual insult towards his own body hits a nerve in you. You tilt your head.

"You're focused on our daughter. And you're incredibly hot."

"Shut the fuck - what?"

Roman walks to the couch and puts her in the living room crib. Softly and slowly, you don't think he can ever let her go so casually. But he's making a face when he sits down.

"I didn't know I have a methhead for a wife. I'll call Shiv for the discovery."

"I think the weight looks beautiful on you?"

Roman looks like he's going to say something before his head tilts sharply, eyes down.

"You've noticed. Fuck - I don't-" His head tilts to the side further, the uncomfortable look coming along the whole tilt of his body. You swallow.

You want him to be obnoxious in his beauty.

"She was born two months ago and I've already let my body rot. And you've noticed, am I really that fat?"

It's humorous in pitch, but genuine.

"Roman."

"I've just blown up my fucking glands. I'm a cow in nature. That's not me. You know that's not, like, like me. Right?"

You can't say anything like denial of his weight gain. You can't tell him it's okay that he's gained weight in becoming a father and focusing on his premature daughter. That'll make it worse, it'll be thrown on you.

You sigh, sitting down with him. You take your hand to run through his hair.

What you can do is love. Drown him in it - and it'll be easy because you have it, you want to do it because it sits in your lower stomach and at your heart, not just to make Roman feel better.

"What do you want for dinner?"

"Don't fucking bully me. This specific situation doesn't call for arousal. I can't be tickled by this. And I'm not into feederism, that's disgusti-"

"Three meals a day and snacks to enjoy isn't feederism. But what do you want for dinner?"

"Fuck you."

You let Roman ramble, just until he slaps your hand away when you try to touch his stomach.

"What the fuck?! You've noticed the fucking roll there? Why are you being mean about this? You know my worst fear is being- what the fuck?"

You've notice the more of him to love and the way it sits like fire on your muscles. You smile.

Don't pity, don't downplay Roman's issues with food. He never has with yours, just love. At least for now.

"I think you're quite beautiful like this right now. I would really like to touch you right now. Just a fat handful of ass."

Roman doesn't blink, you feel like your tension closes in on his face.

"I love you like this. I need you like this. So shut the fuck up with the crybaby antics over the fact you've gotten to be...like a Daddy."

Your hand comes through his hair, you watch him in his silence.

You smile, nose close on his cheek.

"What? Are you gonna blame her?"

There's a coo, like your baby is denying the thought. The slight lines of Roman's face come up, then down.

"...No."

Roman says it weakly. You wonder if he takes in the smile on his skin. The soft sigh.

You've got him. He doesn't slap when your hand comes on his belly again.

"Then, what do you want for dinner?"

Roman watches your hand on him, the thumb running over. His eyes are finally casual. He's given up the fight, but he has to know he'll never be able to beat out the way you want to consume his body. By now, at least. Even if it doesn't change his insecurities.

It doesn't have to when he gives in so needily.

"...Steak. With asparagus. But with butter."

It's almost mumbled. Still, you mwah his cheek.

"As you wish."

[yikesharringrove]

He didn’t mean to hightail it straight to the nearest bar. He didn’t even know what a dive bar a was doing out in the fucking backwoods of Indiana, anyway.

Billy’d just gotten in a big fuckin’ fight with his old man, shimmied out the window of their new house, and started walking.

And he happened across a bar.

He didn’t have his wallet on him, rookie move, but he figured his black eye and three-day-old moving stubble might help him out a bit here.

The bouncer gave him an odd look, glaring him down as he approached, but let him pass without asking for identification.

There were motorcycles parked in the gravel lot, along with some sensible looking Mom Cars.

It was dim inside, and the floor was kinda sticky, but they were playing Patti Smith on a shitty jukebox, so he decided to stay.

He took a seat at the bar.

The bartender gave him the same funny look the bouncer did. She was one hell of a woman, her leather jacket had a pair of handcuffs sewn onto the front, she had her nose, lips, and eyebrows pierced. Her hair was greying and cropped into a very similar crew cut to Neil’s.

“What’ll it be?”

“Whiskey, please. And maybe a beer, Darling.” He winked.

She laughed.

“Honey, you know where you are, right? This is a fuckin’ dyke bar, and you’re no older than sixteen. You’ll have a pop and you’ll be grateful for it.” She had a slight southern drawl to her voice. Texas. Like his mom.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, quit it with that shit.” She scooped ice into a glass, and poured him a cola from the well. “Why you here? It got somethin’ to do with that shiner?”

He took a long drink of the soda.

He didn’t know if it was her voice, or the fact that for the first time in a long time, he was with his own people.

“Yeah.”

“Someone at home?”

“Yeah.”

“‘Cause you’re a homo?”

“Yeah.”

She smiled at him, although this one wasn’t the sad one he’d been expecting. It was understanding.

“We’ll, Baby. You come here if you ever need a safe place to roost, okay? We all know when one of our own needs saving. You come here, and you ask for Susan, and we’ll get your mind off that bruise.”

He took another long drink of his soda, but this time, to try and swallow down the stupid sob that was trying to force its way out.

“Thank you. I’m, I didn’t realize what kind of bar this is. I didn’t really know that people like us were out here. My dad, he, uh, moved us here. From California. He caught me with a boy.” He averted his gaze from Susan’s face, making patterns in the condensation on the side of his glass. Patti Smith turned over to The Runaways. Some women were dancing by the jukebox now. “He told me we were coming here so I couldn’t do any of that fairy shit.” He furrowed his brow on the last line, puffing up his chest in an imitation of his father.

“Just because people hate us more here, doesn’t mean we don’t exist. Queers live everywhere, whether people like your daddy like it or not. He can’t stop us from living any better than he can stop the sun from rising.”

Susan scooped some ice into a clean bar towel, securing it closed with the yellow crunchy around her wrist. She slid it across the bar to Billy, and he put it on his eye gratefully.

“Don’t lose that scrunchy. That’s my wife’s favorite one, and she won’t speak to me for a month if I give it to some kid.”

“Yeah? Your old lady a hardass?” Billy grinned.

There was something, so fucking good, about talking to Susan. Talking to an actual fucking grown up. Someone with a life, and a partner. A queer, like him, who actually found love. And, by the dreamy grin on her face, had found happiness.

“Hollie would yell herself hoarse is she heard you call her old. She don’t look a day over thirty-five, she’ll tell you. We’ve been together for over twenty years. That’s why she’s my wife. We can’t get married yet, but she’s not my fucking girlfriend. We’re not silly high schoolers goin’ to the prom, and shit. No offense.”

“Nah, I may be a silly high schooler, but I’d rather be dead than go to any prom. Especially with a girl. No offense.”

“Hey, you’re in my bar, and we don’t allow bad talk about women. Unless you ex-girl fucked you over. Then we talk a whole lotta shit.” She refilled Billy’s soda. “But you could always go with a friend.”

“I’ve lived in this town for four days, I don’t have any friends, let alone a beard. Maybe if I did, my dad wouldn’t’ve popped me tonight.”

Susan’s smile faltered a little bit.

“Sweetie, I don’t like to interfere. And I know that most of the time, getting CPS involved makes it worse. But Baby, are you safe? I know he hits you, but do you think he’d-” she trailed off. “I’ve just seen some shit, you know? Boys like you with fathers like yours. Boys that didn’t survive.”

“Everything my dad does, is because he’s scared of how people see him. He’s terrified that people won’t think he’s a great father or a respectable citizen. I don’t think he’d get that low.”

But, in truth, Billy didn’t know.

He’s been getting hits from his dad since he was a kid. And there are times when Billy had thought well, this is it.

But Susan was right. CPS never did anything but piss off his dad.

Susan looked thoughtful.

She grabbed a napkin, and pulled a pen out of her leather jacket.

“I’m giving you the number here. You call if you need anything. We take care of our own, okay?” He nodded in response. “Finish your pop, and get back on home. I’m sure you have a curfew to mind.”

Billy winced, looking up at Susan, feeling like such shit after her kindness.

“I don’t have my wallet.”

“Yeah, you don’t have shoes on either, Dumbass.” She winked at him again. “Holl!” She shouted towards the group of women dancing by the jukebox. “This little birdie needs a ride!”

A short woman came drifting over. Her hair was dark black, and swept clear below her ass. She could’ve sat on it and not noticed.

The scrunchy made sense.

She was short, much shorter than Susan, but she beamed up at her, turning to smile just as warmly at Billy.

“What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Billy.”

It was kind of nice, being called terms of endearment by these two women. He liked that they weren’t trying to pull one over on him. He felt safe.

Susan slid a set of keys to Hollie.

“Take Billy home, please. We don’t need him walking around outside.”

Hollie ushered Billy out of his seat, climbing in the stool herself to lean over the bar. She and Susan kissed over the bar, and that funny hopeful feeling washed over Billy again.

“You’re welcome here whenever you want, Baby. You’re not the first little gay boy we’ve had in here, and you won’t be the last. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Thank you, seriously, I-thank you.”

Susan beamed at him, sliding Hollie’s yellow scrunchy back in her wrist.

[elmouwus]

♡ Sunday Mornings • B.K ♡

bakugo x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

summary — sundays are katsuki’s favorite time of the week because of a naughty tradition you both have.

warnings — smut, established relationship, no reader pronouns, use of baby, slight d/a dynamics, oral (m receiving), face fucking

MINORS DNI, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Sunday mornings are Katsuki’s favorite time of the week. He always has Sundays off and gets to sleep in with you cuddling him throughout the whole night. When you both wake up you make breakfast together and then usually go for a walk. He gets to spend the entire day with you, start to end, and recharge from the week before.

But his absolute favorite part of Sunday had to be the constant competition that went on between the two of you. It wasn’t something you two consistently planned or had marked in your calendars but something that just happened out of habit.. and horniness.

Every Sunday without fail whoever wakes up first, wakes the up the other with head. And this Sunday morning was no different.

He wasn’t surprised when he woke up to the feeling of your cold fingers opening the slit in his boxers. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that the weight he felt in between his legs was you.

Although you knew Katsuki was awake due to him being a light sleeper, he shifted and let out a small groan as you licked his tip, to let you know that he was indeed not sleeping anymore, “good morning to you too, Doll.”

You let out a small chuckle before circling your tongue around his tip. As you slowly put him in your mouth, bobbing your head slowly, going further each time you went back down until you went all the down and his tip slid into your throat.

You took him out of your mouth to catch your breath and jacked him off as you stared up at him, “morning honey.”

You looked up at him to see him breathing heavily, Katsuki put his hands towards your face caressing your check, “my sweet baby,” you blinked up at him as he ran a hand through your hair, you felt him give you a makeshift ponytail with his hand, “did I say stop?”

Katsuki smirked as you widened your eyes, him shoving his thick cock back into your mouth, fucking your throat hard. He used your mouth like a flesh light and you loved it. You took quick breaths through your nose when you could, but ultimately found yourself choking on it.

He let go of your hair so you could catch your breath as he sat up, “you alright?”

You nodded, taking the scrunchie on your wrist and tying your hair up, “yes Suki.”

He smirked again and you gulped as you watched something spark in his eyes, “good, because you’re not going to be when I’m done with ya.”

[staceymcgillicuddy]

#12. "Just do it."

Thank you for letting me indulge yet another one of my "fifty different ways they could have met that didn't involve anyone dying" daydreams. Mwah!

“Just do it,” Eddie says to his reflection in the cracked bathroom mirror. “Today. Today’s the fucking day, yeah? Just do it.” 

How can he do it, though, with a zit on his nose? Eddie doesn’t spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about his face or anything, but like… that dude’s a whopper. Red with a white center, and he should probably squeeze it, but if he does that, it might bleed, and he can’t decide if it’s better or worse to ask Chrissy Cunningham out with a zit or the bloody scab of where a zit used to be. 

Probably he should just pop it at home and wait until tomorrow. That’s the solid course of action. Besides, he has Hellfire after school, and if he asks her out today, he’ll be distracted, and the sheepies deserve his full and undivided attention.

Plus—plus!—he and Chrissy have been partnered up for a month on this stupid English project, and it’s due on Friday and today’s Wednesday, so if he asks her out and she says no, that’ll throw off the whole vibe of their presentation. Which, if he says so himself, is a pretty badass show. Funny what happens when you actually make an effort in school, even if it’s just to impress the pretty blonde who initially didn’t seem thrilled to be partnered with you but now laughs every time you make a dumb joke.

It’s a lot easier for Eddie to concentrate on a task when he knows Chrissy’s gonna smile and say something like, “Eddie, that’s so good!” or “I never would have thought of that!” when he’s done. 

“Friday,” he says to his reflection just as the door to the bathroom opens and some bespectacled freshman stumbles in, sees Eddie, and beats a hasty retreat. 

Yeah, that feels about right.

It’s his free period, and he was originally gonna meet Chrissy in the library to work on their poster, but she put a note in his locker this morning saying it was a lovely day and could they please work in the quad instead? 

She’s got the girliest handwriting, and he definitely sniffed the paper to see if it smelled like her perfume. 

(One time, she left her scrunchie on the table, and Eddie stole it while she was in the bathroom. It’s uh… seen some things. He’s a dick. But, whatever. She has eighty of them.) 

When he arrives, Chrissy’s already sitting at one of the four painted-green picnic tables that decorate the quad. Her hair’s in a ponytail, which he pulls to announce his arrival because he’s five and she’s cute, and he wants to shove her down a slide on the playground to tell her he likes her, or whatever.

Jesus Christ, life would be easier if she hadn’t dumped Jason Carver two weeks ago, thus opening herself up as an actual option rather than a fantasy. And, sure, Eddie gets that he’s not even remotely close to her league, but whatever. Even a first date would be more than he deserves.

Chrissy twists at the tug on her hair, and her mouth’s painted with his favorite shade of peachy-pink, lips twisting into a smile. “Hi, Eddie.” 

“Hey, sunshine. I finished those drawings.” 

“Oh, let me see!”

Their presentation is on A Tale of Two Cities, which Eddie actually read (because he really is determined to fucking graduate this time), and also sort of dug because there was a lot of war and intrigue. It’s not Asimov, but he can see the appeal. For the presentation, he and Chrissy are doing a poster depicting the major plot points, and when she found out he wasn’t the world’s worst artist, she asked him to draw and…

Yeah, he’s been making an effort. Not just because he wants to get in her pants, either, but because he likes her as, you know. A person. She’s kind of weird, and he likes how her brain works.

Sitting across from her, he tugs out some loose printer paper from the ream Wayne stole from the plant a year ago. Management would be furious, Eddie’s sure.

Fuck management. Every time he rips the edging off a fresh piece of paper, it makes him smile.

“Oh, wow, Eddie,” Chrissy says when she sees the final piece, which is Carton approaching the platform with the guillotine. “This is amazing.” 

“Ah, thanks,” he says. “It’s no big deal.”

“No, it’s perfect. And I lettered the quote.” That had been Chrissy’s job—picking out the appropriate sentences and hand-lettering them on paper she soaked in tea to make it look old. “Once we have them pasted on, we’re done.” 

“So… cool, yeah. Done.” 

Chrissy carefully places his final drawings in her folder and shrugs. “We don’t have to meet tomorrow, I guess.” 

Shit. Eddie leans forward, fingers digging into the edge of the table. “Uh. Oh. I guess not?” 

“Maybe just Friday, before we present?�� 

“Totally.” 

“Cool. We'll kick butt, and then hang out Friday night.”

Eddie's brain stutters to a halt. "We're hanging out Friday night?"  

"Yes. You're taking me out to the movies."

[bella-goths-wife]

Hair care

James x reader

This is before the boys have found out about the two of you, just thought you’d enjoy some James fluff

“Ouch” James whined as you brushed his hair.

“If you stopped squirming it wouldn’t hurt as much” you said calmly as you tried to carry on “it’s not my fault that you haven’t taken care of your hair”

“I’m starting to think you like seeing me in pain” James groaned out as you tugged again

“Maybe I do” you smirk as he grabs your wrist and turns to look at you with a scowl “aww don’t look at me like that, you know I’m joking”

“I’ll forgive you on one condition” he says with a playful tone

“And what would that be” you say as you lean closer to his face, even with him kneeling in front of you he’s still taller than you in your position on his old cushioned chair.

“If you kiss me right now, I’ll let you do whatever you want to my hair for the rest of the night” he said as he leans closer to you to the point your noses are touching.

“Hmmm” you say as if contemplating, you lean in and put your lips close to his but pull back before any contact is made “I don’t know, seems like a big ask”

“Baby whyy” he whines in mock hurt as he tries to capture your lips but you move back again “don’t you love me?”

“Fine you big baby” you roll your eyes and smirk “one kiss”

You lean in and James is quick to crush his lips against yours, he grabs the back of your head and intertwines his fingers in you hair as you grasp his cheek and caress.

The kiss lasts for around five minutes before you pull away blushing and flustered while James, with his eyes still closed, leans in again for a second kiss. You stop his attempt with a finger to his lips

“Ah ah ah” you tut disapprovingly “you said one kiss, open my bag and get me hair care kit”

James grumbles as he does what you say and grabs the small bag full of hair grips, scrunches and various oils and jells.

You squirt some oil on your hands and rub it in before gathering James curly locks and rubbing the oil into his scalp. James groans in approval.

“Enjoying yourself?” You tease him gently

“Shut up” he groans out as you tug on his hair in an act of revenge.

You continued to care for his hair to the point that he was sat between your legs with his hair up in a scrunchy after you had painstakingly oiled up his hair and combed it through.

You both heard the door open and heavy footsteps, James got hold of his trusty pocket knife and put a hand on your knee to push you back in case it was an intruder, he didn’t exactly live in the safest of neighbourhoods.

It was revealed to be one of James’s many friends, he stood at the entrance of the living room and looked confused at seeing his aggressive friends in a sitting position between your knees with a pink scrunchy in his long hair holding a pocket knife. It reminded him of a Rottweiler protecting a Pomeranian.

“Uhh hey man” he said nervously at the scene “what going on”

“Get the fuck out” James snarls out quickly with a ferocious glare.

“Yep just leaving now” James’s friend rushes out quickly with fear rolling off of him

“Okay carry on” James says, back with the gentle tone he usually used to speak to you with. You laughed at the difference before looking at his watch.

“Shit I’ve gotta go it’s almost 4 in the morning” you say as you rush to gather your things and get out the door but James stops you

“Wow I’m not letting you walk alone” he says as he pulls on his long black leather trench coat and puts his shoes on “I’ll walk you home”

“Uh are you sure you wanna leave the house like this” you look him up and down

James looks at you confused before catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he still had the pink scrunchy and oiled up hair. He turns and smirks at you.

“What don’t you think I look pretty?” He teases with a playful tone as he gathers you in his arms and holds you close to his body.

“Oh the prettiest” you tease back as you lean closer to his body “but your friends might not think the same”

“Fuck my friends” he chuckles out as he gently presses his lips to yours and holds you before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder “right let’s get the princess back to her castle”

“James!” You laugh out as you smack his back “put me down!”

“Not in a million years princess” he says with excitement “fear not, your knight in shining armour is here to escort you back”

You laugh at his words as you try to squirm away but he holds you in place. In a last resort you take the palm of your hand and smack his ass

“Careful now” he says in playful tone “we don’t have enough time to start that type of nightly activity”

You raise your arms in mock surrender as you laugh at him and he chuckles at you.

God he loves you James thought.

[arecaceae175]

I Love Loft Part 1

Hi hello this is my I Love Loft Essay. Because I do. And because the autism is gnawing on him like a dog toy right now and I want to infodump

(Loft from @bonus-links by @ezdotjpg 💞)

I reread the comic this morning and here are all my thoughts and feelings about my best boy.

I’ve been staring at Loft. For. Hours. The shapes and colors you use in your art and the way you draw them is just SO visually appealing!!!!!!!!! Excellent visual stimming happening today

His pillow is so cute??????? Like sir??????????? Where did you get that adorable pillow??????

And look at all the other adorable little things in his house!!!!

I wonder what the painting on the left is??? Idk

ZEDLA IS SO HAPPY AND LOFT IS SO GENUINELY PLEASED FOR HER

The clapping 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

HIS LITTKE SCRUNCHIE NOSE I-

AHSJDJFJEKWKENFKWOWKFNJC

Fucking oof. Yikes. Low blow my guy

It’s SO cute and sad and cute and sad and cute that he goes to hang out with Fi. He misses his best friend 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

ANSJFJGKENFOEKWNFKDMEEN

GROOSE’S!!!!!!!!!! ARM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND!!!!!!!!!!!!! ZELDA’S!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Loft is so loved in happy stimming so much right now 💞💞💞🥹🥹💞🥹👀🥹👀🥹👀🥹👀👀🥹😊😊😊🥺💞🥺😂😭😭😭😢💞😊🥹🥹

AND LOFT LOVES HIS PARTNERS SO!!!!! MUCH!!!!!!!

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

HE LITTLE HAT

Loft you’re so pretty. You’re so pretty. Did you know that you’re so pretty???????? You’re so pretty.

I fucking love that you included the lightning scarring. Love love love

It’s also interesting that the scarring goes over power and courage but not wisdom?? Perhaps since he got them in the fight with Demise?

SHAPES AND COLORS

I feel you my guy. I feel you.

Loft you’re so fucking cute what are you doing

What. Are you. Doing. 😂😂😂😂

Oh 😳😳😳😳 oh my 😳😳😳😳

Hi there. Hi. Hello.

Little wet rat of a man

😂😂😂 “gross” Sure is, buddy. Sure is.

HELL YEAH LOFT GET ‘EM

Loft is so fucking cute in this panel

Awwwwwwwww noooooooo not his little buddy!!!!!!!

He’s so upset!!!!!!!!!! Em how could you do this to him 😡😡😡😡😡😡 (/light hearted, not actually mad)

AH I can only add 30 images per post so onto part 2

(Next Part ->)

[questforgalas]

The journey of my love for Crosshair

TCW Arc: Intrigue. Laugh at the sass. Continue to laugh at the sass. "Oh heck of a shot" "Oh shit what a shot" Oh, OH he's protective of his fam. Oh he's WICKED protective of his fam. "Holy fuck these shots are incredible" *after the Echo shoulder tap* welp he's officially the fave. "HOW DID HE PULL THAT OFF?" Direct imitation of Wrecker's disbelief face. "100/10 would throw a soft blanket over and tuck him in at night. "Wow I hope we get more of him in the series, I feel like he has a lot of cool and fun potential"

TBB S1: Realizing the writers and I have different definitions of "cool" and "fun". Constant need to wrap him in a blanket mixed with groaning into my hands after Onderon mixed with needing to slap him out of it mixed with constant dread he won't fight the chip mixed with constant hope he is fighting the chip mixed with constantly despising him in all black mixed with constant groaning at every freaking thing he said during the finales because I knew and saw what he was trying to do but GAWD why is he so bad at communicating it mixed with needing to drag him on the Marauder mixed with needing to let him do his own thing and grow even if it's emotional torture for me

TBB S2: Constantly needing to learn how I can jump into a television cartoon and protect him with all that I have

If nose not for boops, why so scrunchy???

[fanaticsnail]

|ω･)ﾉ since I also viscerally need a distraction right now... here's some question answers for you asdlkjglkfdg The entire lower half of the list, as it were >w>;;

What song makes you think of your favourite character?

There are so many songs that make my brain go 'oo, Law' that it'd been endless to list them all 😹 So I'm going to pick the latest three asldkjklgfd Immortal by Reinaeiry, Again & Again by the bird and the bee, and This Isn't The End by Owl City too.

What song makes you think of your OC?

🤔We're still finding songs and vibes for Shiro. Forged by Marskye vibes well with them, but I think the closet fit for them I've found (so far) is Fuck It I'm A Flower by Crying Day Care Choir.

If your favourite character was real and appeared beside you, how would you feel about it? What would you do?

... mildly largely flustered, I suspect. After the initial 'holy shit, Law's in the room right now' there'd be a large degree of 'and he can see my titty mousepad and figure collection and card collection and art prints and standees and 'do it for him' wallpaper all of him' (。_。);;

And then I'd ask him if he wanted a coffee and shuffle him out of this room ( =w=)b ... only to end up exposing him to our keychain collection wHOOPS

What's your favourite trope to read?

Impossible to decide alsdkjlkfdjg The most common troupe-ish tag in my AO3 bookmarks is 'established relationship' so adslkjglfdg I think the troupe that appears most is 'relationship growth and exploration and development together'. So probably... friends to lovers? In terms of well known, established - WAIT NO! I'VE GOT IT!

Relationship reveal ( =w=)b that stuff's delicious. Love a good '... wait you're DATING?! Since WHEN?!'

Would your OC and my OC (Tobiuo) get along? If so/not, why?

Hmm, we think so 🤔 Shiro can be a little clinical when it's not the socially correct time, but ultimately I think they'd both get along. With a shared mischievous sense of humour, along with a shared strong core made out of dedication and love for the Hearts- yeah, I think they'd get along just fine. I can picture them sticking their tongues out at each other childishly over a silly, meaningless argument alsdkjklgfdg

In a modern au setting, what would your OC do if not piracy, marines, or civilians?

Shiro would be a therapist and foster parent, I think! Not a full psychiatrist, I don't think they have the patience for that much academics- we think they'd want to get around to Helping People well before that point. They'd end up putting in a lot of unpaid overtime, but they'd live for their work, I feel.

adslkjgklfdsjgfdg I hope these questions help you asdlkjgfd they've helped ground us for sure ( =w=)b

Hi Leo 🖤! There is so many beautiful thoughts all together in one. Thank you so much for this.

I shall be adding those wonderful song recs to the Law playlist immediately 🫡. The fact you have an array of beautiful collectables with Law all over them is just gorgeous. He'd be so flustered knowing that in the same way he collects Coins and Sora comics, memorabilia is being collected for him.

Relationship reveal is hilarious. I have so many for the stoic ones. Two people that look on paper that they hate one another only to reveal that they've been happily married for years just gets me. I adore it.

I have read up on your Shiro and I adore them so much. Fishfolk OCs unite. Tobiuo and Shiro both being fishfolk that work for Law make me so unbelievably happy. Silent, petulant quarrels between them - all nose scrunchy and pouty is so cute. They'd be very fine friends for sure! And a therapist too? Oh, Shiro. My heart. I love them.

Thank you so much for hanging out with me to keep me distracted. I have loved it all.