#dusty’s was pretty spot on though

[raiiny-bay]

did a writing exercise wherein i tried to describe my characters only through random things i associate them with & it was hard !!!

[danwhobrowses]

If anyone's curious after I finally watched all the main PPVs this weekend. MotN (Supercard of Honor): Eddie Kingston vs Mark Briscoe MotN (Stand and Deliver): Oba Femi vs Dijak vs Josh Briggs MotN (Wrestlemania XL Day 1): GUNTHER vs Sami Zayn MotN (Wrestlemania XL Day 2): Logan Paul vs Randy Orton vs Kevin Owens Best Entrance: The Rock (Wrestlemania XL Day 1) Best Attire: Athena as Karlach (Supercard of Honor) - But shout out to New Day for the Rocky and Apollo gear honoring Carl Weathers. Best Performance: Kyle Fletcher (Supercard of Honor) Best Spot: Billie Starkz fakes a Neck Injury just to jump Queen Amanita to win her first major title at 19 years old (Supercard of Honor)

[shotmrmiller]

need simon to be retired and living in the middle of nowhere with a car-fixing hobby, and you're pulling into his 'shop' because you were road-tripping across the country and now some funky noises are happening underneath the hood.

you tentatively walk towards the open garage, only to spot him under some run-down vehicle that has more rust than sun-faded paint, deflated tires, and a license plate that's also got rust gnawing at the edges, the numbers on it barely discernable.

you rap your knuckles gently on the weathered car, and the wheels of the creeper he's on squeak in protest under him as he rolls out to look at you, filthy gloves smearing the dust on his brow instead of wiping it away.

"err, hi. uh, i was pointed this way by some lovely folk that work in that diner down the way, and they said that you could take a look at my car."

he rises smoothly, even though his joints pop as he does, dark eyes squinting against the sun. he towers over you with broad shoulders and thick arms. a tough-as-teak country man.

you start when he speaks, deep voice echoing off of dusty walls. "they said tha', did they?" he lifts the hem of his grease-stained wife beater to wipe at the beads of sweat on his forehead, and your gaze involuntarily wanders to the thick trail of coarse, dark hair under his navel.

"what's wrong with it?"

if you knew that, you wouldn't be here, blatantly ogling him in some decrepit workshop located in a sleepy corner of the countryside. "i don't know. it's making some scary popping noises and figured that it needed to be looked at, asap."

your grimace is involuntary when he extends an oil-streaked gloved hand. you really hope he's not expecting you to-

"keys."

right. you wordlessly hand them over and walk a few steps behind him as he heads toward the front of your car. "did ya get it looked at before your trip?"

you want to snap at him, that obviously you did. you may not be some car wizard, however, you can do the bare minimum for it but he's your only hope for getting the hell out of here, so you press your tongue against the back of your teeth for a moment before answering.

"yes. i did prepare for it. got new tires, an oil change, and anything else it may have needed."

he hums at your answer, a low sound in the back of his throat, and curls his fingers under the hood and begins to feel for the release. your mind is in the gutter as your eyes linger on his sun-kissed skin, watching the tendons on his inked forearm ripple with each movement.

your mind is snapped back to reality when he mutters, "i hope ya don't think i'm doin' this for free."

"wouldn't dream of it. you don't seem the charitable type."

the latch yields under his fingertips, and the hood springs open. "i'd say i'm pretty charitable, considerin' i'm even helpin' ya with this."

your eyebrows furrow, corners of your lips pulling downward. "what, were you closed or something?"

he gives you a small smirk while his hand searches for the prop rod inside the engine bay. "do i look like a business, sweetheart?"

embarrassment burns your cheeks, and your mouth gapes unprettily as you turn around to truly take in the place. past the grease-smeared floors, there's rust blooming on the only workbench in the garage, a single red toolbox resting on the ground. there's a car jack tossed in a corner, a vibrant blue cooler by the door, and a few firearms on pegboard shelves. it looks like a simple garage. a personal one.

"oh my god," you stammer, "i'm so sorry, i just- the townsfolk, they led me to believe that you're a mechanic." how bloody mortifying.

he ducks his head under the hood, bending at the waist to lean over the engine, eyes swiftly scanning the machinery. "it's a hobby. i fix my own vehicles... and now yours, i reckon."

eventually, he turns the car on and listens to the engine roar to life before it begins to pop, standing over the open hood with thinned lips and furrowed brows.

he tells you that he can fix it, it'll just take a bit for the part to get here, obviously, so he recommends staying at a rented cabin in town for a few days— maybe even a week— and he'll give you a ride over.

he gets you there in no time, unsurprising because he drove the motorcycle far too fast— illegal, really. he helps you off the bike, your clammy hand in his much bigger, roughened one.

you rip off his helmet, pushing it into his barrel chest. "please never drive me around that fast again." he gives you a couple of pats to the shoulder, chuckling under his breath.

"unless you're plannin' on walkin' to get your car back, i can't promise tha'."

grrrreat.

(the issue was the serpentine belt, it was slightly frayed but the man kept you around for 2.5 weeks under the excuse of something taking too long, or the car being under worse condition. maybe he charges you a kidney for fixing it, and since you can't obviously pay that ridiculous amt of money, he tells you to go on a date with him. gross. or maybe he's a sane man and he just sends you on your way in 2 days time. idk. installs a gps in your car? keepin' tabs on ya cuz he plans on passing by wherever you live by complete coincidence.)

[servicpop]

Hhhhhhh this is gonna be embarrassing 4 me to write out shshjsjs but I LOVE your writing and I have a request

If your like up for it, could you write another yanfic? But cowboy x ‘showgirl’ (a dude cross dressing for fun) it’s sfw

Like the cowboy goes to one of the readers shows and is immediately obsessed with the performer who he assumes is just a really flat woman, but when the cowboy goes backstage to find the woman he’s met with a man who looks identical to the woman on stage and realizes that the woman of his dreams was actually a man and to the cowboy that’s even better

N they go on a date and it’s fluffy and shit cus i love fluff and cowboys, i really fucking love cowboys

-🎱

✶ ﹑ love at first performance ﹏

NOW STARRING : Soft cowboy (Cole Hudson) x show"girl" reader

「ㅤSFWㅤ」ㅤCole goes to watch one of reader's show and was captivated by the performance but he didn't know that reader wasn't really a showgirl.

✙ warnings — fluff, reader cross-dresses, addresses reader as woman in the first bit (he doesn't know yet) use of her once! I'm not very good at portraying a cowboy well...

notes ,, this got me doing my research ! not too sure if this is accurate for show girls (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠) not proofread!

Dusty boots scraped on the floor as Cole navigated through the bustling crowd; his heart raced from how many people there were. As the cowboy wandered in the dimly lit venue, his gaze fixated on the stage where beautiful women dressed in flamboyant clothing that glittered and swayed with their movement, danced along with the rhythm of music blaring through speakers. One showgirl especially caught Cole's attention. The way your body moved like water was hypnotising and he coupling stop his heart from thumping against his ribcage.

At first, Cole wasn't interested in these loud events; always scarin' his poor cows and his horse, but this time his pal had really insisted for him to visit one. 'It would be fun,' he said, 'see lots of spectacular performances and maybe some cute girls,' he said. So, Cole rode his horse into the heart of town and here he was now, stuck between sweaty bodies and glaring lights in his eyes.

That one performer though, your radiance was brighter than the other showgirls. Cole was entranced by your dancing, oh how he wishes he was there with you, hand on your hips, slow dancing under the soft streetlights of his home town. He slid his hat off, placing it over his chest almost like he was trying to muffle the sound of his racing heart. The costumes were bright, dazzling, and flowed easily in the wind. They were also quite revealing, accentuating the girl's cleavage and showing off the performer's midriff. All but you.

Cole noticed the lack of well— a larger chest like the other girls had, but he just assumed you were flat-chested. That didn't matter to him, besides, he prefered modesty anyways. After a few minutes, your performance was unfortunately coming to an end. The music faded out and the vibrant lights dimmed as he watched you all bow. The venue filled with deafening clapping but Cole couldn't help but stare starry-eyed at you as you walked off stage. He needed to meet you in person.

The next act slowly made their way to the stage but Cole couldn't care less about them; it was a horse show! He's pretty skilled with horses himself so there was no need to stay. Once again he pushed through the crowd of cheering people, weaving his way out of the venue. When he emerged out, Cole was hit with the crisp night air, a stark contrast of freshness compared to inside the venue. His eyes scanned the area, trying to find where the performers went after their show and he was able to spot a small tent that had light seeping out of the gaps. Cole walked over to said tent and grazed the fabric with his fingertips in hesitancy. He took a deep breath; his chest heaving before he shut his eyes and pushed the fabric aside, walking inside.

He opened his eyes as he walked in, a few showgirls turned around to look at him with confused faces and he just stood there dumbfounded. The words he wanted to speak were clogged by the lump in his throat. You walked up to him, waving your hand infront of his face, "Hey, are you okay?" You asked with a raised eyebrow. He blinked a few times before tilting his head down to meet your gaze. Christ you were beautiful, almost hauntingly similar to the showgirl he was infatuated with earlier. "U—um, I'm looking for a specific showgirl that performed tonight and I was wonderin' if I can... find her," He mumbled out, his eyes locked onto your features as if he was assessing your face. "Are you two, by any chance, relatives of some sort?" He questioned, his country accent shining through his voice.

The girls giggled while taking off their make-up and Cole shot them a confused glance. You sighed with a small chuckle and you looked down at your feet, "By any chance, would this 'showgirl' you're looking for, be me?" Once again, Cole stared at you with his jaw open. He felt his heart strangely flutter despite knowing that you were a guy. He swore he wasn't into guys but you were— different. Not like any man he's seen. He just couldn't shake off his attraction towards you.

"You're a fella?"

"Yeah, you got a problem with that?"

"Well I'll be damned, you are one beauty."

The mixture of his country accent and your more refined accent strikingly contrasted but for some reason complemented eachother. City boy meets country boy. It seemed like Cole had a staring problem because once again, he was blankly gazing into your eyes. It was charming though, how Cole always looked like he was admiring you. Pretty flattering to say the least. Out of nowhere he spoke up...

"How 'bout takin' a ride on my horse?"

How did you get here? Holding onto Cole's waist, you screamed pathetically. Your eyes were screwed shut and your cheek was pressed against his back, all you could hear were hooves thumping on the ground and Cole's warm laugh that echoed through the valley. You two were going so fast that you swore you'd fall off if you didn't hold on tight enough. "You enjoying the ride darlin'?" Cole chuckled, peering over his shoulder to see you clutching onto him like a koala, "Slow down, please!" He ignored your pleas to slow down, "C'mon sweetheart, open your eyes, the stars tonight are just somethin' else!" He yelled through the noise of the wind instead. When he saw that you didn't budge from your terrified position, he just let out a soft laugh and placed one hand over your ones that were clasped around his waist. The warmth of his calloused palm spread to your fingertips and you almost forgot how cold it was tonight. "We're almost there, don't worry," his voice was gentle and thick like honey as he reassured you.

You weren't used to this, not used to the serene silence of the nature, not used to the wind beating so hard against your body, not used to clinging onto a cute cowboy for your dear life as he rode his horse with such passion. You've grown used to the smoke filling the city, used to the loud noises of late night partiers and engines running, used to being by yourself in an apartment with only the warmth of your blanket to keep you company. When was the last time you felt so— free?

The wind died down and you two slowly halted to a stop; you didn't even realise. "You can let go now sugar," Cole giggled as he waited for you to look up from the comfort of his back. You raised your head, your eyes meeting the beautiful scenery of a small cliff with forests lining the background and a starry display of the night sky that seemed like the stars were winking at you. This was a sight you could never see in the city. Cole slides off his horse, planting his two feet on the floor before extending a hand up to you to help you get off too. Your hand reluctantly meets his, the warmth of his palm returning to your finger tips as he guides you down, catching you when you hopped off. The way he handled you was so gentle, as if he was a beast and you were a fragile butterfly.

"Guess you could say we're on a date, huh?" Cole's smile punched your gut from how soft he looked, his hand never left yours. You scoff at his remark — but in a light-hearted way — as your eyes leave his instead, and returned to the scene presented infront of the both of you. It really did seem like a date, far more romantic than any fancy dinner in the big city. Oh and the way his eyes aren't even looking at the sky. He's looking at you. "Ain't it a sight for sore eyes?" He marvelled, and you know he's not talking about the scenery.

"Yeah, it really is," You breathed out quietly like your breath had just been taken away. Cole's eyes finally leave you and he stared at the soil beneath him before he spoke, his voice hushing to barely above a whisper, "You goin' back to the big city soon?" He doesn't want you to leave. Not now. Not yet. Before you could speak, his large hands bring yours together and he traps them between his. His eyes were wide and his brows were furrowed, "Please don't go," he blurted out, embarrassingly higher pitch than he wanted his voice to be.

Your eyes soften as you couldn't help the giggles that escaped your throat. Your eyes lingered on his hands over yours and you noticed the way his fingers trembled slightly but his strength in his grip never faltered. He wasn't allowing you to leave. You did have time before your next gig so, why not?

"Maybe I'll stay for a little longer."

Your heart ached when you saw Cole sigh in relief, his eyes darting everywhere but yours with dusted rose cheeks. He let go of your hands, clutching his own. "I reckon I'll take you out to the strawberry farm my buddy owns. You can't find nothin' sweeter than the fresh grown strawberries out here," He proposed, his fingers skimming over his own knuckles. He was somewhat afraid that you'd reject him. You were so sophisticated, so refined that he couldn't help but feel silly next to you, a big performer who traveled the country to entertain. You, on the other hand, almost instantly fell to your knees from his adorable invite. Strawberry farming? With this cute cowboy you just met? Hell yeah!

"Sounds like a deal, um—" You just realised, you never got his name, "Oh! It's Cole, Cole Hudson," He replied, tipping his hat at you. Jotting his name down in your mind, you glanced at the sky, and noticed that it was incredibly dark, your manager and the girls would be worried if you were nowhere to be found in an unfamiliar place, "Well, I guess it's time to let you be. Let me take you back to your place for tonight." A whistle breaks through the silence in the air as Cole called over his horse, her hooves tapped against the floor in a trot as he took your hand in his and hoisted you up onto the horse's back before hopping on himself, "Hold on, sweets," He smiled, waiting for you to wrap your arms around his waist, securing yourself to him. With a gentle nudge of his foot and the flick of the reins, he guided his horse forward.

You were a little braver this time, keeping your head up as you tried to look around you but it was practically useless now as everything was pitch-black. You wondered how Cole could navigate in such darkness, maybe it was because he travelled up this same path multiple times and knew it better than the back of his palm. As of now, you put your whole trust in him to escort you to your hotel safely.

The lights of the town in the distance inched closer as you two finally made it back. The town was eerily quiet as many people were presumably asleep at this hour — it was so different to the city. "Thanks for the ride, Cole, I really enjoyed it," You thanked him while fumbling to get off his horse; you were still getting used to it. Cole had a hand gently caressing the mahogany-coloured fur of his mare as he looked at you with those hazel eyes of his.

"See you here tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure."

You found yourself rushing to meet up with Cole the next morning. Something in you just— felt at home with him. You met up with him, he took you on his horse, and after a few long conversations about seemingly anything that popped into your minds, you and Cole arrived to the strawberry farm. It was a surprisingly big farm with green rows of leaves with a pop of red peaking out from behind the leaves. Cole helped you put on your boots and strapped a hat to your head to shield you from the harsh sun of the countryside.

"I'll teach ya how to find the sweetest ones," Cole grinned, flicking his head to the side as he encouraged you to follow him. He trudged along the rows of strawberries with his sleeves rolled up above his elbows, showing his well-built forearms. He had given you a little basket and labelled you on 'basket duty,' but you didn't complain. You stared at his back while he proudly walked infront of you, it was now that you realised how big he was compared to you, both in height and muscle. Could you grow to his height in the future? Probably not.

You were snapped out of your trance when Cole squat down and reached a hand out to one particularly red strawberry, "Here, this is a good one," he hummed contently before plucking it off the stem before handing it to you, "Y'see, a bright red tells you its a sweet strawberry, and these green caps are also good," Cole explained. He placed the strawberry into the basket and turned back around, walking forward with peeled eyes. He wanted to find the best ones for you.

"How 'bout you try, darlin'?" Cole asked, glancing over his shoulder before reaching out his arm to encircle around your waist, drawing you closer and leading you forward. "Alright," You hesitated on agreeing but why not give it a try? You couldn't get this experience anywhere in the city. Your eyes caught on specific strawberry that fit the 'Sweet Strawberry' criteria that Cole suggested to you. Vibrant color? Check. Green cap? Check. You picked it off the stem and showed Cole for approval. He placed a hand on his chin as he looked like he was lost in analysing the strawberry. A smile plastered on his face and his dimples appeared, "You'll ain't gonna know 'till you try it."

Bringing the strawberry to your lips, you sunk your teeth into it, the refreshing sweetness meeting your tongue. Your gaze was casted off into space as you took some time to process how to describe the taste until you suddenly felt warm fingers tilt your chin up. Before you could question it, Cole leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, savouring the taste of the strawberry that was lingering on your lips. It was only a small peck before he pulled away. You swear you were just swept off your feet and— was it getting really hot or was it just you? You stood there, frozen, unsure of how to act after that kiss. That was enough to send your heart running laps.

"It's real sweet, you sure did a good job pickin' that one sweetheart."

♡

notes ,, I loved writing this so much! Thank you nonnie ♡♡ I wasn't planning on writing this much but I just had to ,, anyways! If you wanna see more Cole please request scenarios/date ideas/etc etc, also, thank you for 400+ followers ♡ my read more thing keeps breaking so don't mind if its kinda weird!

[coryosbaby]

SENSITIVE . Luke Castellan x fem! Reader

Content warning . Broken bones and submissive Luke <3

Whenever someone uses a word to describe Luke Castellan, it’s always this: strong.

He’s the greatest swordsman in camp, after all. He puffs out his chest and slathers his aura in pride, outdoing every opponent.

Except for when it comes to you.

He’s— well, Luke is a sensitive boy. No one knows that, of course, except for you.

He shows his true self, now, on a rainy night in your cabin. Many campers have gone to dinner, and Luke had decided to stay back with you, curled up in your bed.

“(Y/N),” he whines, as you finish your night routine with a drastic slowness. “It hurts.”

You almost roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s antics as you lather on a bit of moisturizer. After a long trip and fall down a flight of stairs—ironic, really, considering his stealthiness— the boy had broken his hand. A small cast is wrapped around it, little phrases that you and other peers had written into it rainbow in color.

“You’re being dramatic.”

His lips form into a pout.

“‘M not,” he replies. His unbroken hand pats the empty spot beside him. “Come here, baby. I miss you.”

You can’t help the tug in your chest at his sweet tone. You do the last steps of your routine, sighing as you move out of your vanity chair and slide onto your silky pink sheets.

“C’mere, you big baby.”

He grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you bring him into your embrace, letting him wrap his big arms around you.

“You smell nice,” he compliments, humming. “Like a pretty flower.”

You giggle. His fingers move up to play with your hair.

“And your hair is so pretty. I love it. And your eyes…”

“Are you saying this because you feel sentimental, or because you want me to make out with you?”

“Both.”

You scoff, pulling him in for a kiss. He reciprocates eagerly, and before you know it his tongue slides warm and wet into your mouth. His hand moves up to your tits, softly groping.

And when you look down, you realize why he’s so clingy. A small smirk spreads across your lips.

“I think you need a little bit of help, sweet boy.”

His cheeks, a dusty pink, turn even darker now. You take in the sight of the large bulge straining against his zipper. He lets out a nervous chuckle, though it doesn’t do much to stifle his nerves. His broken hand still stays trembling underneath your own.

“You don’t have to,” he replies, averting his gaze from you. “I’m not.. I mean.. I can’t—”

“I know.”

You don’t need to say anything else. Your palm splays out over his hardened cock, and he whines, a tiny breathless thing in the back of his throat that makes your panties soak with wetness.

“Mommy,” he utters. “I need your hands,” And then, bordering on a choked sob, “Please? I’ll be good, I swear…”

Oh, it’s so easy to get him worked up. So, so incredibly easy.

You hum, flicking the zipper of his jeans up and down playfully. His brunette locks are turned up and disheveled, and it’s the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.

“Poor baby. It’s been a long time since you’ve touched yourself, hasn’t it ? Four, maybe five days?”

That was the last time he had fucked you, the day he had broken his hand. Your schedules were both so busy that neither of you had time to do anything since. Luke’s eyebrows press together, and a pout forms on his lips as he nods in confirmation. You press a kiss to his jaw, then another. He’s wearing the cologne you like, and a shirt you had once said looked particularly good on him. He had made his way into your room asking for this, you’re sure. He was asking to get all worked up and get you to handle it.

He just wants mommy’s attention, doesn’t he?

You pull his fly down, much to his excitement, a “thank you” falling sweetly off of his soft lips. Pushing his underwear down, his hardened cock slaps up to its fullest attention against his stomach. His balls are drawn up tight above the fabric of his briefs, full and ready to be emptied.

Oh, how worked up the poor thing is. Wet like a girl, cock dripping pre cum and the tip flushed an almost deep scarlett. He’s well endowed, much to your pleasure.

Giving his tip a teasing flick with two of your fingers, you watch as his eyes shut tight and he moans. It sounds precious, a choir full of angels singing. You wish you could hear it over and over again.

He isn’t looking at you, now, and that makes you annoyed. Your hand slaps his length and he lets out a pained yelp.

“Eyes on me. Do you understand?”

His bottom lip wobbles. A sensitive boy he is, despite his usually hard and cold demeanor, and his mommy’s disapproval makes him want to cry. He nods, his teary eyes staring deep into your own as you spit into your palm and take him into your hand.

You start by thumbing over his tip, rubbing softly into his slit. Watching his breathing increase and the way his head tilts back is absolutely enticing.

“Is that good, baby?” You ask softly. He nods eagerly, his hand shaking in his lap. He tries not to clench his broken fist together but that proves difficult, and he lets out a pained cry when he presses down on it. You coo to him, almost mocking, as you snake your arm behind his back and take the cast into your free hand.

“Don’t hurt yourself, okay? Just hold on to me,” your voice is a purr in the shell of his ear. “Need my boy big and strong again.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, his voice high pitched and whiny. “Yeah, mommy, yeah…”

Your hand wraps around the fullness of his length, twisting with a flick of your wrist. His forehead bumps against yours as his open mouth tries to land on your lips. You think he’s trying to kiss you, and it’s absolutely endearing. He can’t help but desperately shove his tongue into the warm confines of your mouth. You giggle at that, pulling him in for a sloppy, wet kiss.

When your lips leave his, it’s so you can bite and suckle pretty marks onto his neck. You lave over the reddish bites, humming as you cover his throat in them.

Other women at camp, be damned. He’s yours.

It isn’t long, with a gasping mouth and fluttering lashes, that he’s close.

“I’m gonna cum,” Luke murmurs, sugary sweet. “I’m g-gonna… momma, momma..”

He buries his face in your neck, salty tears pressing into your skin, and his cock spurts rope after rope of warm, sticky spend all over your hand. You watch with a smile, pressing a kiss into his hair as he fucks his hips up and mewls against you. Your heart flutters at the sound, your body on fire just from watching him come undone.

He sighs when you milk the last few remnants of cum from his spent cock. His curls stick to his forehead, sweat dripping down his brow. What a sight.

You find Luke’s shirt somewhere on the floor and wipe your hand on it. His nose crinkles up.

“That’s gross.”

Rolling your eyes and trying not to smile, you sit down beside him again.

“It’s your mess, Luke.”

He shrugs, his hand going up to push your hair out of your face. He gives you a pretty, lopsided smile. You kiss the scar underneath his eye, and his eyes cloud over again.

Always so sensitive.

He lays down on the bed, signaling you over. His lips find yours again, chaste but still nice, and when he’s using free hand to make you straddle his face, a gasp emits from you.

“Luke. It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“Want to,” he murmurs, sliding your panties to the side. “You took care of me, momma. Let me take care of you.”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Somewhere Only We Know

Dustin wants to know why Eddie despises you over every other member of the dark side. You're just some cheerleader, right? What could you have possibly done to incur Eddie's wrath?

Starts off with Dusty Buns POV, then Eddie then yours.

Mentions of weed, Jason being a prick, Eddie pines but won't admit it... Mdni. Vecna? Who's Vecna.

🖤💌

Dustin truly thought Eddie Munson was one of the coolest people he had ever known, Steve of course was on that list of total badasses as well.

However for all, Dustin knew of Eddie and that was a lot (the guy made his feelings loud and clear on a variety of things, conformity, Jason Carver, why metal was the superior genre of music, Jason Carver.

But in the few short months since Dustin joined Hellfire and was taken under Eddie's wing, there was one topic he wasn't so clued up on, and that was you and the mystery of why Eddie seemed to despise you above everyone else in this school.

He had tried to casually bring the topic of you up, sure you were a cheerleader and on the dark side and Eddie hated conformity and shit but clearly you had done something painful to Eddie for him to hate you like this.

Dustin wasn't exaggerating either, anytime you and Eddie were in the same vicinity of each other it was like the temperature dropped in the room and Dustin was chilled to the bone at the icy glares between you and Eddie.

Literally, the mention of your name had Eddie's eyes filling with disdain. "She's a traitor and can't be trusted, don't ask about her again Henderson" Eddie snapped during one lunch break when Dustin brought you up out of curiosity.

"Uh meaning?" he asks confused but not wanting to piss Eddie off any further. His question is ignored until Gareth answers it quietly.

"She used to be in Hellfire, then she tried out for a spot on the cheerleading squad and got in. Refused to choose between the two, said she could do both and that Eddie was being an asshole, they had a big fight and she left Hellfire. It broke Eddie's heart even though he pretends otherwise"

Well, shit. "Don't tell him I told you that dude and don't bring her up again. Touchy subject" Dustin nods and expects that's the last he will hear about you.

It's not.

💌

Eddie ignores the chatter around him while his gaze is solely focused on you. Jackson had been hanging around you constantly and for some reason, it pissed Eddie off. Couldn't he enjoy his pretzels and Yoohoo in peace without seeing such a sickening display?

If Eddie felt a twist in his gut every time Jackson got too close to you then that was his business.

"Can't they go to the bleachers and hash it out so I don't have to bring up my lunch every time Jackass decides to flirt" Eddie snaps and narrows his eyes at you, Gareth rolls his eyes and Jeff hides his snort behind a cough when Eddie's glare is aimed at him.

"Dude she's not even interested in him. He was an asshole when they dated and she got sick of him within two weeks" Jeff is apparently very informed on the matter and this annoys him even more.

"You're very informed on the dating lives of the dark side Jeff?" Jeff shrugs and mutters something under his breath, something suspiciously like he still talks to you from time to time.

This would be Eddie's next rant. Giving the time of days to traitors was not in the Hellfire handbook, just because they had pretty eyes and a sweet but deadly smile was not an excuse to break said rule.

Unfortunately, he has a deal to make, the rant would be adjourned to another time. "Gentlemen, I must leave you now to embark on a quest for gold in the deep dark woods" he bows then heads out to his spot in the woods.

Waits for ten minutes and thinks that whoever it is isn't coming. All he had to signify the meeting was a note in his locker and he's still unsure if he's walking into a trap by Carver.

Impatient and just about to give up, he gets up and then stills when he sees you walk into the clearing. What the shit... Since when did you smoke weed? He's never known you to do it in any of the time he's known you.

"Munson" you nod and he closes his gaping mouth as you join him on the table, he expects you to be tense but you close your eyes and enjoy the cool wind and the peace of just the birds singing and leaves rustling gently. He forgot how much you liked being out here.

He clears his throat refusing to get lost in memories and you sigh, open your eyes and he stares back impassively. "Surprised Jackass isn't hanging off you like a limpet" he snarks and you roll your eyes at his tone.

"Jackson' you emphasize ''needs to take a hint. Look, Megan asked me to pick up weed for the party this weekend, so we can cut to the chase" Eddie snorts, you never did have time for bullshit.

"How much do you want?" you shrug and place twenty-five bucks on the table.

"Carver is paying apparently" There is a glint of mischief in your eyes and you smile impishly. Eddie does not get lost in that smile, no way. He clears his throat and smirks.

"Well if it's Carver's money" he takes the full amount and is surprised when you unsuccessfully try to hide a smile. He sobers up and plays with his rings, looks at you briefly then speaks again.

"Uh, it's potent so just make sure that you don't get overboard" he spits it out quickly, like he doesn't care either way what you do. You pause before getting up and there's that soft smile again.

"Careful Munson, anyone would think you still care about me'' there's a sadness to your tone and Eddie watches you go. There's an ache in his chest that feels all too familiar.

💌

You loved cheerleading, the closeness you felt with the rest of the team, learning routines together and having each other's backs. The close friendship you had with Chrissy and Tina. It was senior year and the cheer squad were on the precipice of winning a trophy for the school.

In that sense your life was perfect. In other ways not so much. You hated Jason but tolerated him for Chrissy. Jackson wouldn't stop bugging you to go back out with him, even though you had barely dated him for two weeks and grew tired of his jealous and demanding behaviour.

No way were you going down that road again. Then there was Eddie Munson, who hated you and made that feeling known, he was the bane of your existence and yet you were so tired of the animosity between you both.

Most of all you were sick of Jason and his stupid superiority, boy did he never let you forget that you didn't belong with the cheer squad. He all but cornered you after lunch to rant at you for laughing at one of Eddie's stupid jokes at Jason's expense.

It was a reflex. That's all and it was funny to see Jason brought down a peg or two.

"Don't think I forget where you came from freak, you can easily go back to obscurity playing Dungeons and Dwarves with Munson and his band of geeks" Jason snaps and you meet his gaze with unwavering intensity.

"Dragons", He looks confused and you smirk ''Its Dungeons and Dragons, dumbass" you tack on dumbass at the end just to piss him off even more, how dare he threaten you? Who did he think he was?

Sometimes you wished you could just go back and be a part of Hellfire Club again, a club that so easily accepted and looked after their own. Cheerleading was similar to that but the people in your friends circle sure liked to ruin any sense of security you felt. Mostly Jason and some of his Neanderthal friends.

Jason snorts and then he slams the locker beside you hard and it rattles you but you don't show it, when that doesn't work Jason knocks the books out of your hands and they go flying and he stomps on them before he leaves.

His laughter echoes down the hallway and you shout after him that he's an asshole, gather the books as best as you can and freeze as your well-loved copy of The Hobbit which already isn't in the best state falls apart completely.

Tears pool in your eyes and you hastily wipe them away, it's just a book, it's just a book you chant in your head but it doesn't work. It's been your constant companion since you were nine and it breaks your heart to see it tattered and broken.

Ringed hands help gather the rest of your work and you whimper. Shit, not him. Not now. Hastily you wipe your tears away and stand up, meet Eddie's gaze as he holds your books for you.

He looks begrudging in helping you but slowly his features soften at your tears, he looks at the tattered book in your hand, at the faint smudge of a shoe print.

"Who...Carver did this?" he growls and you nod still seething but the anger is ebbing away to sadness.

"I've had that book since I was nine and I know I can buy a new one but it's not the same, I hate him and I hate his stupid bullshit king title. He's an asshole and his group of Neanderthal friends and he can't even get the name of D&D right and I miss...'' you swallow and Eddie's anger melts away, his gaze intent on you.

"What do you miss?" he asks softly and you figure you've already spilled out some secrets so why not indulge one more.

"I miss Hellfire and I miss y...everyone" you hurriedly say and hope Eddie didn't notice the slip ''but everyone hates me now"

Eddie gently hands you back your books and you thank him. He's silent for a moment then speaks up.

"Everyone misses you too" he is about to walk away when you stop him. Your heart is racing but you have to be sure.

"Everyone?" you confirm and he knows what you're asking, if everyone includes him. He nods and reaffirms what he said.

"Everyone sweetheart and one more thing... no one hates you" he walks away at that point, runs to catch up with one of the freshmen in Hellfire and steals his hat. A laugh bursts out from you as you watch Dustin? as he chases Eddie around the hallway.

Yeah, you do miss Hellfire...and Eddie.

♥️

When you get to your locker on Monday morning there's something jammed in your locker so that it isn't fully closed. When you open the locker, a book falls out and you recognise the cover immediately.

A new copy of The Hobbit. You pick the book up and hug it to your chest, eyes sparkling with tears. You know exactly who left it in your locker but the little note of crumpled-up paper falls out.

It's clearly ripped from a Dungeon Masters notebook. All that's on it is a small message in a messy scrawl but it makes your heart skip several beats anyway.

Since Carver ruined the first copy, I thought you might want another.

E M 🖤

💞💞💞💞💞💌

[mooncalf87]

Huskerdust hcs

They call each other Baby and no one knows if its platonic or romantic (they're not really sure either)

Before they officially got together Charlie took it into her own hands to trap them in a room so they would finally kiss

Angel is pretty lightweight so Husk can carry him pretty easy, they fly around a lot with Husk holding Angel

Due to being a cat, Husk has a lot of cat instincs and feels the need to rub his cheeks against Angel (like cats head bump you) Charlie then explains to him that when cats do that they are leaving their scent on the person, showing other cats that this person isn't up for grabs (Husk basically dies and Angel finds it so endearing)

They take care of Nifty like she's their kid even though she's 22

Alastor is secretly their #1 ally

Husk secretly loves Razzle and Dazzle and Angel once walked in on him snuggling with them

Their safeword is "Loser"

They don't officially share a room but Angels room is currently getting dusty af because he hasn't slept in there in months

Husk never gets around to cleaning his wings properly because he can't reach them, so when Angel finds out he offers to help

Even though Husk is is bigger one, he is the little spoon (most of the time) and he can sometimes be found curled up asleep in angels lap on the couch

Angel loves the extra soft spots that are behind Husks ears

Husk purrs whenever Angel gets home from work

Sir Pentious has walked in on them making out far too many times

[littlelamy]

so this maybe a bit much but how about kook reader who’s parents are forcing her to get a job because of how much money she spends this kinda goes with the shopaholic one I also sent sorry but anyways when she finds out her parents are making her work she runs to Rafe to complain💖

a/n: i love this idea🥰 thank you for sending a request!

you stormed into rafe’s house without knocking, the heels of your sandals clicking loudly on the hardwood floor. rafe didn’t even flinch from his spot on the couch, though he lazily glanced up at you.

you dropped your designer purse on the floor with a huff and crossed your arms. “you’re not going to believe what my parents are making me do.”

rafe paused the game on tv, his lips quirking into that familiar cocky smile. “oh, this should be good. what’s got you all worked up this time, princess?”

you didn’t bother with the attitude he was throwing your way. you were too furious. "they're making me get a job."

for a split second, you could see the surprise flash in his eyes, but then rafe threw his head back and laughed. a full, rich laugh that sent heat rushing to your cheeks. this wasn’t funny. you stormed over to the couch and pushed at his legs with your hands. “it’s not a joke, rafe! i’m serious!”

“hold on, hold on,” he choked out between laughs, grabbing your wrists and pulling you closer until you were standing between his legs. “you? a job? yeah, right. what’re you supposed to be doing? selling clothes at the country club?”

you glared down at him, but the heat in his eyes as he pulled you closer made your anger falter. “no,” you shot back. “something way worse. they want me to work at my dad’s office. like, answering phones and…and filing paperwork.”

rafe gave you an amused look, his grip on your wrists loosening as he leaned back against the couch. “you—filing paperwork? yeah, that’s not happening.”

“exactly!” you burst out, relieved that at least someone understood. “i told them i could just cut back on the shopping, but they said i have to learn ‘responsibility’ and ‘work ethic’ and all this other bullshit. like, i didn’t grow up to file papers in some dusty office!”

rafe raised an eyebrow, looking far too entertained for your liking. “i mean, you have been running through their credit cards pretty hard lately, babe.”

you rolled your eyes and pulled your hands away from him, pacing a little as you vented. “i know, but it’s not like they can’t afford it! we’re kooks, for crying out loud. they’ve got money for days, and they’re freaking out over a few shopping sprees.”

rafe watched you with a bemused expression, his arms draped lazily over the back of the couch. “so, what? you want me to talk to them? convince them to back off?”

you stopped pacing and turned to him, your frustration simmering as you met his gaze. “no, I don’t want you to talk to them. i just…i needed to get out of there before I lost my mind. I needed to talk to someone who actually gets it.”

rafe tilted his head, his eyes darkening with something you couldn’t quite place. “oh, I get it,” he said slowly, standing up from the couch and closing the distance between you. “i get that you’re used to getting whatever you want, whenever you want it.” his hands found your waist, his grip possessive as he pulled you closer.

you narrowed your eyes, but the heat between your bodies was already melting your resolve. “what’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, trying to sound annoyed, but your voice came out softer than you intended.

rafe smirked, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he leaned in. “it means you’re used to running to me when you don’t get your way,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “and I usually give you what you want, don’t I?”

your heart raced as his fingers trailed along your sides, sending a shiver down your spine. he was right—you did run to him. rafe was the only one who never told you “no,” the one person who didn’t try to rein you in. he liked your wild side.

but you weren’t ready to admit that out loud. Instead, you tilted your chin up defiantly. “and what’s wrong with that? you like it, don’t you?”

rafe’s eyes darkened even more, and his grip tightened slightly. “oh, I do,” he admitted, his lips grazing your neck. “but this little job thing… maybe it won’t be so bad.”

you blinked, pulling back enough to look up at him. “what are you talking about?”

his smirk returned, more devious this time. “i'm saying maybe you could use the distraction. get your parents off your back, make them think you’re turning over a new leaf. play the good little daughter for a while.”

your eyes narrowed, searching his face for any sign that he was joking. “you’re serious?”

rafe shrugged, his hands still resting on your hips. “why not? do the bare minimum, show up, file a couple of papers or whatever, and then come back to me when you’re done. it’ll be like a game.”

you considered it for a moment, the thought of playing along to keep your parents off your case while still getting what you wanted. you didn’t love the idea of working—any job sounded awful—but if it meant keeping them off your back, maybe Rafe was right. maybe you could pull this off.

“you think I could do that?” you asked, biting your lip.

rafe chuckled, his hands sliding lower. “babe, you can do anything you set your mind to. just as long as you keep running back to me afterward.”

your pulse quickened at the heat in his voice, and for the first time since your parents had dropped the bomb on you, you felt a little more in control. maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“fine,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “but if this blows up in my face, i’m blaming you.”

rafe grinned, pulling you in close. “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[yanderenightmare]

Mahito discovering all the carnal urges he has for you

Mahito

TW: NSFW, yandere, noncon

fem reader

He likes alleyways. 

So private, so intimate, so many different people to pick and choose from. 

It’s where he finds��you.

You’re just on your way home – late at night and just a teensy bit tipsy – at least enough not to care about why taking the shortcut through the dark alley is a bad idea, despite being all alone. 

It’s your mistake.

Mahito thought little of you at first – you were another dumb drunken whore to nab. He never got tired of listening to stupid girls like you squeal and scream, so you seemed as good as any when teetering between the brick buildings in your pink pumps.

You’re tied to his wall by your hands a few hours later – club dress in a pool on the floor alongside your kitten heels.

Sure enough, you begged for your life like all humans do with tears and cheers and silly prayers. Calling him mister, as though polite manners would earn you his favor. But he was no stranger to your feminine guiles and wasn’t sweet on them either. 

Yet… there was something about the way you shivered that just seemed different from all his previous victims.

Or maybe he’d just evolved – grown up, as humans like to say – into something that craved to play a little differently.

Either way, he didn’t bother giving it too much thought. All he knew and all he cared to focus on was how delicious you looked hanging there – sweat pilling on your smooth skin, running over slopes and crevices down your body in pretty sparkles. 

He was more attentive to it now than he’d been with the others. Licking his teeth at the sight of you and how your chest reacted to the air, becoming perky in the cold. 

Granted, you were just as dinky as any human in his eyes, but something in his gut possessed him into being gentle when he began touching you – as if in reverence – as if something about you was just too potentially gratifying to waste.

It was the thing between your thighs he gravitated to first. Feeling it with his fingers for the first time and realizing what a tender spot on the body it was.

His dual-colored eyes peeled in curiosity, keenly studying you and how you sucked in a sharp shuddering breath and twisted your soft thighs around his hand, where touching you made you pour out a whole other string of pleas, one more whiney after the other, shaking your head as though to try and make it all go away – or... to deny how he was making you feel.

It made him chuckle, feeling you get warm and wet on his digits.

And ever since then, he’s always laughing when threatening you. Making you feel fun-size – like a playful little pet project he gets to figure out. His smile all crooked when dragging his fingers over your soft flesh, playfully teasing you with how easy it would be to twist your pretty body into an ugly fleshy puppet if you don’t listen and do what he wants.

It keeps you sweet for him – eager to please – hurriedly working your hands up and down his shaft while kneeling before him. His fingers holding your face, digging deep into the chub of your cheeks, keeping you looking up at him. 

You’re too perfect to alter – too cute – all perky tits and plump lips and big doe eyes pleading for your life with his dusty pink cockhead keeping warm on your tongue.

[veritasangel]

Duelling Charm

Ft. cowboy!sukuna & cowboy!gojo

sum: the two avoid each other as best as they can but the one thing they always have in common? they both have a soft spot for the pretty bartender at the local saloon.

contains: fempov, fluff, flirting, a suggestive comment, rivalry between the two cowboys

wc: 1.4k - masterlist

a/n: i always love a cowboy au for any of my faves, and yes, i'm still thinking about that gojo fanart

The plains were dusty, stretched out under a burning sun, the small town shimmering in its heat. It was a rough place, with law more of a suggestion than a rule, and men made their own way with grit and gunpowder. Even within this rugged town, though, there was one place of respite: the local saloon.

Satoru strode in, his towering height and white hair catching the eye of nearly everyone inside. He wore a duster coat that looked far too put together for a rugged man, and the silver spurs on his boots flashed in the light.

His usual cocky grin was plastered on his face as he looked around, though his beaming blue eyes remained covered under the shade from his hat.

He strode directly to the bar, to which you, a renowned bartender of that saloon-were cleaning glasses with a skilled hand.

"Evenin', Miss," Satoru said, the word drawn out as he relaxed into his usual lean against the bar. "Town's lookin' a whole lot prettier now I'm back here, don't you think?"

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at the corner of your lips. "You never miss a beat, do you, Satoru?"

"Only when it comes to you," he said, tipping his hat with a wink at you.

Before you could respond, the door creaked loud and swung open once more. The saloon fell silent for just a moment as Sukuna entered, his presence commanding like always. Where Satoru was all charm and flash, Sukuna was raw and dangerous. He was broader, rougher, with a face as handsome as it was threatening, marred only by a single scar running down his left cheek, a souvenir from one of the many fights he'd managed to walk away from.

Sukuna's crimson coat billowed with his entrance, his twin revolvers sitting comfortably at his hips. His eyes, a piercing red, locked onto Satoru almost immediately. A slow, almost predatory grin spread over his face as he made his way to the bar, taking his place on the opposite side of him and right in front of you.

"Satoru," Sukuna greeted, his voice low and rough, like gravel under boots. "Surprised to see you here; thought you'd be off chasin’ some poor fool who doesn't know any better."

Satoru chuckled and didn't miss a beat. "Why chase fools when I can stay here and enjoy some good company?" He turned to you, his smile spreading wider. "Present company excluding him, of course."

Sukuna scoffed, leaning an elbow against the bar as he gave you a look that sent a shiver down the spine of the few patrons who were close enough to witness it. "You really gon' let this peacock flap his feathers around here, doll?"

You shook your head, your eyes dancing between the two men as you grabbed two glasses ready for their usual order. "You boys sure know how to make a girl feel special," you said, your tone light though there was an edge of exasperation running below. "But I ain't some prize for the taking, you know."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Satoru said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "I come here for the sole purpose of adding some spark into your life. "

"That so?" Sukuna cut in, his grin growing wider and wider. "Last time I checked, your 'spark' was you complain’ about losin’ all your money on the poker table. In that case, I think she might be better off not having your spark around her."

Satoru's grin never wavered, though his eyes flashed with a challenge. "At least I can afford to lose. Heard you've been on the wrong end of more than a few deals lately, Sukuna. Maybe you're the one who should be watchin' his coin, huh?"

Sukuna chuckled, low and dark. "Money's easy to come by, if you know where to look. But some things," his gaze shifted to you, "are worth a whole lot more."

You heaved a sigh and slid their drinks over the bar, stepping back to cross your arms over your chest as you looked between the two of them. "You boys gonna keep this up all night, or do I need to get the sheriff?"

"Now, now, no need for that," Satoru said quickly, flashing him a disarming smile. "We're just havin' some fun, right, Sukuna?"

Sukuna smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He nodded. "Sure. A total blast."

You eyed them both a moment before shaking your head with a soft laugh. "You two are impossible," you said, though the warmth in your voice took the edge off your words.

Satoru leaned in slightly, a playful glint in his eye. "Impossible? Or irresistible?

Sukuna snorted and took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes never once leaving yours. "Irresistible? That’s stretching it, even for you, Gojo. Reckon the lady’s simply being polite."

You chuckled, giving them both a teasing smile as you leaned forward, your elbows resting on the bar. "Maybe I just like seeing both of you inflate your chests like two roosters in the pen."

"Careful," Satoru said, grinning, "Or you might just find yourself caught in the middle."

Sukuna's smile twisted into something wicked; his voice low, a full octave lower as he leaned in closer to him, his presence almost overwhelming. "And I don't think either of us would mind that one bit."

The tension between the two men was palpable, though below the surface, the interaction was playful, the silent understanding that this all was part of the dance. They were rivals, sure, but not enemies. Not yet, anyway.

As the night wore on, the saloon was filled with laughter and clinking glasses, but your attention stayed glued to the two men at your bar. Satoru kept the mood light, sprinkling his words with flirtatious comments and charming smiles, while Sukuna's replies were sharp, laced with a dangerous edge that made your pulse quicken.

"Tell you what, sweetheart," Satoru said, low and smooth, "Why don't we take you out for a ride tomorrow? You can see the town from a whole different angle."

Finally, Sukuna chuckled, his voice carrying with him a dark timbre. "A ride with him? You'd be bored outta' your mind. Stay with me, and I'll show you the kind of fun you won't forget anytime soon."

You raise an eyebrow, leaning on the bar ever so slightly. "And what makes you two think I'd want to spend my day off with either of you?"

Satoru faked a hurt look, laying a hand upon his chest. "Now that hurts. Here I was, thinking we were getting on so well."

Sukuna's smile grew, eyes slanting just a bit as he watched you. "Maybe she's just playin' hard to get, Gojo. Or maybe," he tacked on, dropping his voice down, "She's waiting for someone who can actually keep up with her."

You couldn't help but burst out laughing as you shook your head at their antics. "You boys sure know how to lay it on thick. But if you're really that keen, why don't you both come by tomorrow? I might just have something in mind that'll test whether either of you can live up to your talk."

That challenge in your voice did something to each of them, and their rivalry was put aside as their eyes met in an unspoken moment of respect-and firmer determination.

"Count me in," Satoru said with a grin, tipping his hat again.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Sukuna replied, the smile spreading slow and dangerous as he downed the rest of his drink.

The two men left the saloon as the night was winding down, promising to meet again, and each one more determined to better the other than ever. 

And there was just something thrilling about what tomorrow might bring, with two of the most notorious men in town vying for one's attention. You shook your head and softly chuckled to yourself as you began cleaning up for the night. You knew better than to get too caught up in their games, but there was no harm in letting them try. 

After all, life in a town like this could get pretty dull, and a little excitement was always welcome.

༄ m.list

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[shares-a-vest]

Eddie rushes down the narrow hall of the trailer, his cereal bowl still in hand as he chuckles away at whoever has awakened a grumpy Steve from his beauty rest by pounding on the door at 7am.

He opens the front door to find an equally frustrated Dustin Henderson, all prim and proper, dressed ready for school. Dustin practically shoves a large cooler bag into Eddie's hand, giving him a split second to hold his cereal bowl at arm's length so as not to spill it.

"What's this?" he asks, frowning.

He attempts to peer into the bag but can only see the tops of at least two plastic containers at the angle his full hands have forced him into.

"Lasagna," Dustin informs - though it's more like a droning deadpan.

"Goody," he beams, bopping up and down on the spot as his young friend rolls his eyes.

"Dusty!" Claudia chides from the car. She spots Eddie looking directly at her and switches to a motherly smile, "Oh, hi Eddie, darling."

He waves, "Thanks, Claudia."

"Come on, Dusty, we have to get over to Steve's or I'll be late for work."

"Okay!" Dustin calls over his shoulder a little too sweetly. He narrows his eyes as he conjures up his most threatening tone, "You know who doesn't get any lasagna because of you assholes and your cartoon cat-like appetites?"

Eddie grins, "Stevie isn't home, Dustybun!"

"Eddie!" he stomps his foot.

He cackles in the face of the kid's annoyance. And maybe also because Steve is literally here in the back room, likely still grumbling away with his cute-as-hell bed hair as he tries to go back to sleep.

Dustin turns back to his mother, "Mom! Eddie said Steve isn't home."

"He isn't?" she asks so innocently, Eddie's heart swells. Bless this woman, "Well where - oh," Eddie can see her clutching her proverbial peals, "Well, never mind. I'll just keep it in the fridge at work for the day."

He smirks for a moment before he turns his attention back to Dustin, who looks like he is trying to telepathically channel El's superpowers so he can smoke him to smithereens.

Eddie blinks and feigns interest, "Oh, I'm sorry, who doesn't get any of Claudia's mouth-wateringly delicious lasagna?"

He rocks back and forward on the balls of his feet as he bats his lashes waiting for a, surely deafening, response.

"Me!" Dustin screeches, "Mom is so busy making you guys food all the time that now when she makes lasagna, saying, 'Oh, this is for the boys' that doesn't include me - her son!"

"Well you'd better learn how to cook some for your hungry wittle self," he teases. If his hands were free, Eddie would lean forward and give Dustin a condescending pat on the belly. But alas, he has to settle for wiggling his fingers through the bag's straps as he smiles, "Toodles, Dusty."

He only just catches Dustin's gaping stare for a split second before he closes the door on him completely like he's poor Kay Corleone. He cackles away as he heads for the kitchen. Steve, though hard of hearing - especially when he's all bleary-eyed and half awake - must have heard at least some of it because he calls out a smile-filled, "Eddie?".

"Coming, pretty boy!" he calls down the hall.

He sets his bowl down on the bench and makes quick work of dividing four servings of lasagna between the fridge and freezer, both spaces crowded thanks to Claudia's cooking.

"Guess what we are having for dinner..." he coos as he makes a beeline straight for Steve once he heads back to the bedroom.

Meaning, he jumps on the bed and tickles his boyfriend silly.

"Whaaaaat?" Steve whines as he attempts to duck under the blankets before settling shoving a pillow over his head.

"Lasagna!" Eddie shouts to the heavens, fist-pumping while he's at it.

Steve slides the pillow off his face and stares at the ceiling with absolute dread.

"Oh no, not her lasagna!" he dry-sobs, clutching the pillow to his chest.

Eddie drops his hands in his lap, offended.

"You don't like Claudia's lasagna?" he recoils, clutching his own nonexistent pearls.

Steve shakes his head, looking both worried and apologetic as he admits, "It's just too much food, man. Like, it's a kind gesture. And I love Claudia and all but, it's only me at home. And the servings are huge!"

"Oh, please!" he scoffs, "You practically inhale food."

"Not that much!"

Eddie flops back onto the mattress, narrowly missing Steve who is totally crowding the single bed. He places his hands over his own belly, rubbing at it as he hums contentedly.

Steve props himself up on his elbow and slowly quirks his brow as he looks Eddie over with a worrying level of amusement. He watches as Steve's eyes flit to the Garfield plushie sitting at the foot of the bed - a gift he had forced his boyfriend to buy him in commemoration of their first weekend away together in Indy a few months back.

Steve pinches his nose and mutters, "Jesus Christ."

"What?" Eddie asks, genuinely curious.

Wait.

"I'm dating Garfield!" Steve exclaims before falling face-first onto him in a fit of giggles.

[atomicbland]

Just A Mirage

Hello I'm outting myself as the ──★ ˙🍓anon from @ghoulphile. Anyways they've inspired me to fall face first dip my toe back into writing and might as well share the brain rot with the class. This is my first time writing smut or anything relatively like this so any questions comments critques are welcome! I dont bite unless you want me to

pairings: cooper howard x fem!reader rating: 18+ MDNI! warnings: bondage, degradation, pet names, mentions of age gap (obviously), Cooper Howard being a jackass in general, canon typical chem use, smoking AO3 Link

You were tired, thirsty, and hungry. Your rations had been finished earlier that morning though it was not by your hand. The tall ghoul who looked like he had walked right off the set of one of those western movies with his cowboy hat, ragged leather duster, and shotgun strapped to his back had stolen the last of your food and water while you stepped away to relieve yourself. You had come back to him chewing on your stash of jerky while letting his scruffy companion, “Dogmeat”, drink straight from your water flask. You learned quickly that no matter what, he’d treat the dog better than you. He kept you on a leash, his lasso was tied around your waist and tethered to the weapon belt that might as well have been fused into his skin. Anytime you weren’t keeping pace he’d give a rough tug of the rope, causing it to bite into your belly. Argued it’s easier to keep track of you that way. 

While you lamented over the loss of your food and water and debated if hiring the old ghoul was a smart choice something catches your attention stopping you in your tracks. Along the edge of the tree line, you spot the remains of what looked like a house, bigger than any house you’ve come across. The roof and windows were still somewhat intact and something that looked like brick peeked through the vines that had taken over the structure. You felt the bite of the rope at your stomach. 

“Now, I done told you what’ll happen if I gotta tug this damn rope again…” the Ghoul threatened from in front of you.

“I saw someth-”

“You ain’t seen nothin’,” he spat. “A mirage. Just that pretty lil’ head of yours playin’ tricks sweetie.” He tugged the rope again, urging you to move along not even bothering to look in the same direction as you. 

Sweetie. Whenever he called you that you could feel the heat of a thousand rads shoot through your body, making your blood boil. 

“Maybe my mind wouldn’t be playing tricks if I still had my food and water!” You didn’t budge, refusing to play his stupid game. You were in charge, hiring him to escort you to the Old World Wall safely. 

He turned to face you, his eyes hidden by the brim of his hat but his features were twisted into a scowl. “What was that lil lady?” 

He didn’t scare you. You cleared your throat. “I said. I NEED water. You don’t get any caps or vials if I’M dead!” He stays silent, still glaring. A month's supply of vials upon arrival was on the line and he knew it. You point towards the treeline. “I saw a house over there. We're out of rations and it's getting dark. Can we at least set up camp there?” 

His answer is wordless, whistling a command to Dogmeat to run ahead to the house. He gives another tug at the rope, commanding you to follow behind him, a cautious hand at his holster. 

The inside of the house was far nicer than the outside led you to believe. While everything appeared to be overrun by nature the original bones were still there. Holey yet plush couches formed a sitting area around a fire pit that recessed into the tattered wall. The floorboards creaked and moaned under the new weight as the three of you walked around making sure the area was clear. Dusty paintings littered the walls, images nearly impossible to make out in the dim light. 

“Now smoothie,” the Ghoul started, taking a quick break to puff his inhaler, “I’mma take you off yer leash and scope the perimeter ‘fore we hunker down.” 

You nod, happy to have some relief from the scratchy fibers of the rope and to get some sort of break from your freakish travel partner. Not that you didn’t hate him but the way he spoke and stole from you did wear on your nerves. All of the stupid pet names that cowboy gave you did something to you. You couldn’t place it, a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach, a milder feeling of what he did when he’d make a pass at you. And despite how much he annoyed you, you found him strangely attractive. On those sleepless night when you were sure he was sleeping, you’d study his features, imagining his strong hands around you as he pulled your hips down onto his, his cock hitting your core just right making your back arch and pulling the same loud cries of pleasure you had heard him pull from others in the adjacent room of whatever hostel would allow a ghoul and his dog. 

The smell of viscera and tobacco cloud your senses, and you feel a gloved hand around the back of your neck, ripping you back to reality. “And be good for me while I’m gone.” The heat of his breath travels down your neck and straight between your thighs. 

You watch as he slinks away, stopping at the crumbling doorway—a dark shadow masking the top half of his face. “Oh and sweetheart,” he pulls a cigarette from one of the pockets of his duster, lighting it before he continued, “be a doll an’ rangle somethin’ up for dinner. Ain’t much in the mood for ass jerky t’night.” He flashes you a smile from underneath his hat before leaving, Dogmeat happily cantering after him. 

The house is larger than it looks on the inside and despite its current state of ruin, you could see it in all of its glory, like one of those fancy houses you see in the movies. People smiling and laughing around a table piled with food, dressed in the most beautiful clothes that shimmered against the light. Women with beautifully painted faces and clean, perfectly styled hair. Those movies always made you wonder about the world before the bombs, before everyone wanted to kill everyone else, before the fear of radiation. 

You find your way into the kitchen, cracked black and white tiles decorate the floor, dingy teal cabinets matching the Atomic Queen appliances hug the walls. You take care to peek behind every cabinet door checking for any food or water that might have been missed by whoever came through here last. You manage to find some unlabeled booze and canned food tucked behind the remains of some long abandoned animal nest, while it isn’t much at least you’ll be able to eat tonight. In another cabinet you find some Sugar Bombs, the box is dented and beat up but surprisingly unopened, lucky you. 

You move towards the back of the kitchen, finding yourself in a small dark room. The smell of mildew and rot is so strong your stomach would've turned if it wasn't already empty, it's so bad you couldn't bother to examine the shelves that lined the wall. You make a mental note to ask the Ghoul to check for loot, of the two of you, he had the stronger stomach to rifle through damn near anything. Pushing through the door to the other side, fresh air greets you, a welcomed relief to your lungs. The very last dregs of sunlight shine through the windows that made up the roof, tall green trees kiss the glass in a desperate attempt to break free. If it wasn't for the roof you would've sworn you accidentally found your way outside. 

With one hand on the holster of your knife you creep with the brick of the wall at your back, slowly examining the plants in front of you. You recognized a few, Daffodils, Marigolds, even Tato vines. However a majority were new to you;  large flowers the size of your head, and plants that seemed to grow from the roof. You spot some pear and apple trees with the largest fruits you’ve ever seen further into the room. As you found your way to the perpendicular wall, you noticed that it was made of a giant window. You remember seeing building plans for something similar in a pre-war book years ago, a glass house that kept the plants inside at the ideal temperature. For whatever reason the plants in this glass house were thriving on neglect, carrying on with life as if the bombs never dropped. 

BANG! 

The sound makes you drop to the ground, covering your head. Whatever it was you just hope it was coming from the Ghoul. 

Just as you're about to get up, something catches your eye. You crawl towards the brush to get a closer look, little red fruits perched on vines decorated with white flowers cover the dirt by your feet. You pluck one, rolling it between your fingers the skin is rough, yellow dots littering the surface of the red flesh. The sweet scent of the fruit travels to your nose and entices your palate you know better than to put anything in your mouth. Instead, you procure the small tin that you use to store food from your bag and fill it with the mystery fruit. 

BANG! 

Hastily you shove the container back in your bag, whatever was going on outside had you a fair bit more concerned now that you could hear Dogmeat barking wildly. You quickly get up and make your way out of the glass house, through the dark storage room, and past the kitchen. Not stopping until you've collided with a large solid mass, sending a plume of dust into the air as your ass hits the cushion of the couch. 

“You’re ‘sposed to say ‘scuse you after runnin’ into a fella sweetheart.” 

You look up, your eyes meet the dark shadow of the Ghoul's from under his hat. Yellowed teeth show through as he grins wide. You look down to see in his gloved hand are two Rad Rabbits, in the other an unopened can of purified water. Relief washes over you, knowing that your dinner would be more than just Cram and Sugar Bombs. 

“I believe a thank you's in order.” His stupid handsome grin growing even wider. Clearly proud of himself despite him having taken down much harder prey. 

You glare at him before softening, in some way, you feel like this is his way of apologizing for earlier. Any time he pissed you off he would at least make up for it with his actions. Stolen stimpak? Within the next day, you'd find it replaced along with a bag of RadAway. A few bottle caps would find their way into your bag too, when you brought it up to him he'd deny it, telling you to keep a better eye on your shit.

“Thank you,” you pause, it just dawned on you that you didn't know his name. He was the Ghoul, the Cowboy, your escort across the wasteland. But no name to attach to him. You fish for a polite title for him, and if you knew him better you would've punctuated your gratitude with a kiss, yet the older man didn't seem like one for physical contact. “Thank you, Sir.” Is what you land on. 

His smile fades as if your gratitude offends him and he tosses rabbit carcasses into your lap.

“Make sure Dogmeat gets her fair share. She found ‘em after all.” He says, patting the mutt beside him before making his way to the firepit, and lighting another cigarette. 

[kiryoutann]

𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 ::: 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀

TEMPLATE CREDIT. GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Childe is quite affectionate, if not, very affectionate.

He almost met the requirements for the five love languages—almost; the man failed in the quality time department, obviously. But he's a good lover. Opening and holding the door for you, only leaving after making sure you've reached the safety of your home, and giving gifts even on the most ordinary Monday.

"You look good in that dress, babe." "Let me see that pretty face." "Good morning, angel," and a whole bunch of other sweet nothings he said to you. Oh, how he loved to hold you on his lap, burying his nose in your sweet scent while ignoring the stack of documents that demanded his attention.

B = Babe (What would they use as pet names? Do they use them a lot?)

Definitely: doll, babe, baby, angel.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Childe is the biggest cuddle bug, and luckily doesn't have much free time for it (or else the man will forever demand it from you, as if he's eternally glued to your hip). Enjoys being the big spoon in the middle of a chilly night, naked. When you question him about how he remained alive, all he says is, "Darling, do I need to remind you where I come from?"

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Childe is quite good at cooking, but it's mostly Snezhnayan food. I always picture him in the kitchen, wearing a crimson or navy blue apron and flipping whatever is in the pan with a proud smile. Though he makes an effort to clean as much as he can, there is always a dusty spot that remains unattended. Still, he found the window and table wiping to be pretty enjoyable!

E = Emotion (How are they with showing emotion in public versus private?)

I think, by default, Childe is a pretty empty person if we put aside his dark desires and ambitions. In public, he looks like a chill guy. He is cold and full of discipline towards his subordinates. Childe is quite respectful of his fellow Harbingers and those he admires; keep a little distance and minimize conversations with some strange people (for example: Dottore). However, to his family, closest friends, and his significant other, Childe is as warm as the sun and wears his heart on his sleeve.

F = Flirt (How do they flirt? Are they smooth or awkward?)

Oh, he's a smooth flirt, alright. He knows his potential and maximizes it. Usually he squeezes three or four or more in his private time with you.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Childe really gentle with his lover. God, I can't imagine the canon him being a violent person (despite his crazy hobby of wanting to fight any breathing creature within his radius). Would massage your feet if you asked. He kissed your ankles in an attempt to make sure there wasn't an inch of you left untouched by him. Treats you like a tiny little bird. Even if there is a moment where he's rough, you can bet it will, ahem, leave more pleasure than pain.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Childe loves hugs! However, I can't say he gave a warm hug. Most of the time, he does the initiating, and hugs from behind are his favorite thing to give.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Long enough for Childe to say these magical words. He had many considerations: was what he felt more than just admiration? Will his confession burden you? Anyway, despite his playful and easygoing persona, Childe didn't say these words carelessly.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

With his confident air, you'd think it would take a lot to make Childe jealous. Wrong. Whoever he considers to be stronger and more worthy than him, Childe turns into a green-eyed monster. But, there are some people who don't know their place that makes him sometimes… feel the need to emphasize his relationship with you.

In the first case, Childe might pout all day or sulk like a child. However, in the second case, he will show warning signs to the poor person by resting his hands on your hips or even a hug from behind while resting his chin on your shoulder. Oh, and that triumphant grin on his face when he knew the signal had been picked up.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Childe's kisses were of many kinds. Short kiss. Soft kiss. And kisses full of desire and longing every time he came back from a long mission or a tiring day. He likes to kiss you on the lips, knuckles, and neck. He loves receiving kisses on the lips, cheeks, head, and the tip of his nose.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

We know the answer to this one!! He is very. Very. Good. With. Children.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Unfortunately, Childe is an early bird, thanks to his job. There's not much you can do in the morning when he's on a work day other than watch him leave. You figure that comes with the job and loving the man. On his days off, he will make sure to spend more time in bed with you, either by cuddling or sleeping through the entire day.

But don't expect him to be as understanding if it has to do with your job. This ginger-haired devil will try his best to keep you in his arms and weigh you down with his body in the hope you'll change your mind about coming to work today. He's super dramatic when you don't.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Childe had irregular working hours, which meant most nights he came home late and you were already asleep. However, on days where he can go home early, he makes sure to take a bath together before going to bed. He's a light sleeper, by the way! Every time you turned around and moved away from him in your sleep, he made sure to pull you close back to him.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Childe had many considerations about the things he held close to his heart. There are some things about him that he fears will change your perception of him. It took him a few months into the relationship to reveal a stupid little secret, and that too was delivered and disguised as a joke. After making sure the foundation of his relationship was stronger, he would then tell the things he only dared to whisper when night fell.

P = Propose (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

At first, I thought Childe was the type of person who would propose about two or three years into a relationship. However, now that I think about it, marriage is also a very, very big thing for him. He has no problem committing, but if we're honest, marriage never crossed his mind until he met you.

It would take quite a while if he wanted to propose marriage. Because apart from the nature of his job (and the possibilities that accompany it), Childe is quite sensitive to rejection. He'll have to make sure you're also on the same boat regarding marriage before he dares present you with the ring he bought somewhere in Mond.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

I don't think he's the type of lover who has the ability to remember small details about his significant other. Sure, he remembers your favorite food, your choice of flowers, and the songs you used to hum; However, he's not the type to go into too much detail.

Despite that, Childe gave you the best things he could get. So, even though he sometimes forgets things you've mentioned before, you can surrender yourself completely to him because you know, Childe will move heaven and earth for you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The night he realized he loved you, as the world turned more colorful than ever. However, if Childe fell in love with you at first sight, his favorite memory would be the first time he laid eyes on you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Childe is quite protective, but (thankfully) not so much that you feel suffocated. He is quite secretive in protecting you. Always sweep his gaze around scanning for possible dangers in every place you visit. Not to the extent of ordering his subordinates to follow you, but he can always be sure and will go to any lengths so that you don't get hurt.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Childe is a good lover. However, gestures of affection are more about big things such as giving gifts, inviting to romantic dinners, and basic things that couples usually do. As I said before, he doesn't remember small details very well; but he makes sure everything he gives you is the best.

He may have trouble remembering what kind of ring you like, but you can bet your money he'll buy the shiniest one to adorn your ring finger. His effort can be seen from the way he gives the best, the most luxurious; while small and simple things like a picnic in the park, a walk around the lake are more your thing.

U = Unique (What makes them unique as a partner?)

It's the fact that you hear how horrible he is – that he's this bloodthirsty warrior and all the gossip about how he's the Tsaritsa's weapon, and yet you only see a lovesick, little pomeranian puppy swinging his tail happily every time you look at him.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

This pretty boy knows he's all that. It's so unfair how the effort Childe puts into his appearance only consists of washing his face with just water – showering – getting out of the shower with wet hair, and letting it air dry (how can his hair stay fluffy with so little care???). He only used one perfume that Tonia gave him (and mind you, he's been using it for YEARS). And... that's it. All set to take on the day.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?

He would die without you. That's enough said.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Childe did flirt here and there, but surprisingly, his only love experience was having a tiny schoolboy crush on a girl back in Snezhnaya when he was six years old. After falling into the abyss, his teenage years were filled with all the trouble he managed to cause – the fights he managed to be a part of before his father handed him over to the Fatui. Clear records of exes.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

??? I can't think of anything other than Childe doesn't like partners who are.. possessive. He was a young man who still loved traveling and exploring the world, and the thought of having a partner who intended to confine him to one place forever sounded hellish to him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Childe is either a lightsleeper or a very heavysleeper, there is no in between. On weekdays, he can jolt awake from the slight noise from the kitchen. But, he sleeps like a hibernating bear on weekend or when he has overworked himself. Childe likes to sleep on his stomach, shirtless. Snoring varies in intensity from light to moderate.

SUPPORT ME THROUGH KO-FI! CHECK MY WRITING COMMISSION.

[cigarett3wif3]

GIRLS ON FILM

title from Girls on Film by Duran Duran Jill Valentine x f!reader | ao3 18+ MDNI. smut, female reader, a little bit of comphet(subtle and almost non-existent), lesbians, oral (female receiving), pussy spanking, reader is pillow princess, fingering, a little bit self indulgent, dirty talk(not a lot)

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹˚ ₊‧────

It started like a movie night. At least it is supposed to. You met Jill months ago in some old and dusty DVD shop, a place with an annoyed vendor in a room full of old movies but hardly ever with clients. What started with a common interest, got you into a position of aching for something more than just a ‘smart girl’ or ‘pretty girl’ from an older woman during a casual conversation with her. And to be completely honest, you have never expected yourself to yearn for a touch from the same sex, seems like you aren’t straight anymore. Or you have never been…

But now the typical sound of leather squeaking coming from the couch made you snap out of your trance. The faint light of the movie illuminates your figures, you can’t make out what the actors are doing, or what scene is nor do you care. The most important thing is the Jill behind you, her subtle and sensual touch on your shoulders while her lips are giving soft kisses on the crook of your neck.

It feels surreal. Two women, skin to skin. You would see something similar in lesbian porn. Even though you always tell people you don’t watch it. But what a girl can do when sex with men has always been disappointing? You have always been sure even if you had dick penetrating all deep inside you, reaching until your lungs, you would still feel incomplete. And a lot of your female friends had the same experience, explaining it like something normal.

Jill’s boobs are pressing against your back. Your mind stops working again, and those thoughts disappear quicker than you expected them to. And it made you panic a little bit too “First time for me” you mumble out. Was your always voice so breathy? Among panic and excitement, there is another feeling - embarrassment. What if she is going to think you were a loser? You had sex after all, just not with women of course. Her lips continue giving tender kisses, the spots they touch feel so burning hot, that you aren’t sure she isn’t the embodiment of fire. Her hands roam up until they reach your chest and she cups it with a loud hum, kneading and groping at your breasts. Her chin rests on your shoulder.

“I don’t mind” she purrs. “you can be a pillow princess for me this time, hon”

You gasped when Jill’s fingers started playing with your nipples, squeezing and rolling them in between her index and thumb. Her lips return their focus on the skin of your neck, giving soft bites and sucking on same spots as if teasingly to soothe them. While her fingers continues teasing and playing with your nipples, tugging softly and pinching them in between her digits. You can feel a jolt of pleasure passing through every nerve in your body. Underwear starts already getting uncomfortably wet, and for a brief moment, you start to wonder if there won’t be a stain on the couch at the end of this night. Her hands uncupped your breasts, making you turn your face to look into her face better. Feeling unpleased by the lack of her touch now.

“C’mon pretty girl, lay down for me” she hums, hands pushing you down softly, until you are on your back, exposing your disheveled clothes to her gaze. The white blouse is unbuttoned completely, showing your braless chest to her. You quickly remove your shorts, you won’t need them.

She spreads your legs wide, almost manhandling them further apart as much as she wants. There is a clear wet patch on your panties and it made her grin. “So eager for me already? You are so easy” she purrs softly, giving a trail of kisses from your inner thigh up to your knee. Jill’s slender fingers, but calloused, curled under the hem of your panties, tugging them up, making fabric press and rub against your clit. Forcing a moan out and your hips buck, wriggling a little bit and unintentionally getting more friction against the bud from the fabric.

Her arm is resting on your knee and she finally tugs the side of your panties so your pussy is exposed to her gaze. Your attention is fully on her face and enjoying every shade of emotions it exposes to you, not noticing a quick action of hand, connecting with your clit which causes pain and sparkle of pleasure combining. Jill’s fingers started slapping on the sensitive bud, showing a grin on her lips when your body jerked, blue eyes burnt more with excitement and lust when she heard your loud moans. Every slap fills room more with distinctive wet and squelching sound, which you both find arousing.

Jill’s tongue makes a distinctive ‘tsk’ sound, before giving another spank on your pussy, hitting your already sensitive and overwhelmed clit and making you jerk again. “What a good girl, fuck” she groans, noticing how drenched you are. Her thumb presses softly against your painfully sensitive clit, looking through her eyelashes at you. And if you are honest (and you want to be), you have never seen someone look at you like that; full of want and eager to please you without receiving anything back. The digit starts circling slowly and teasingly on the bud, not being shy to press harder against the hood to listen to your moans more. She observes your face for any signs of distress or discomfort, in case you were putting up with that silently. But in your case, if Jill wanted to beat you, you would enjoy it too and maybe beg for more.

She slid lower, so her face is now leveled at your dripping cunt and you slip your legs on her shoulders instinctively. Her finger kept playing with your clit before her mouth finally delves in, pressing tongue against your lips and lapping on them. You moaned again, not recognizing your own voice. Your hand crawled into her hair, grabbing and pulling her by it and trying to get more. Wet sounds and your whines fill the room, and your hips jerk and press tighter against her face, as her nose grinds against your sensitive clit sending more jolts of pleasure to your body. Her tongue moves in a clockwise circles, not forgetting to not leave your hole out, delving it into your soaked cunt, her tongue slips in and out of you. The air around you feels so intense and the sight of Jill’s face between your legs made, her half-lidded blue eyes keeping eye contact with you make your inner walls clench and arch your body.

As if to make it better, her mouth switched its attention to your throbbing clit, sucking on it and she doesn’t forget to add her fingers inside you, slipping inside easily cause you are soaking wet. “Taste so good, best pussy I’ve ever eaten” Jill murmurs, her words are slightly muffled and vibrating against your clit, enhancing the pleasure. She scissors you with her two digits, curling them against your g-spot and making you wince from bliss before returning to moving them back and forth, stretching your hole nicely, at a stable pace.

“Girl, fuck, wish I would have a strap on here” she groans, rolling her eyes and she pulls away from your drenching slit, your clit is aching for more attention from her mouth. Chin is glistening with your slick, her tongue peeks out to lick her lips, the taste of you lingers on the buds in her mouth, and you can see her half-lidded gaze towards your pussy. Full of desire and hunger, while her fingers are still working inside you, moving back and forth eagerly“So I could watch your tits bounce while you ride me like a good girl, mm?”

Blue eyes study your expression for a brief time, clearly noticing how much you are enjoying her fingers. You can hear her whispering; ‘I guess that is for the next time then’, before returning to your wetness. Her tongue presses against your sweet spot and parts lips as it starts flicking on your clit and she laps on the juices like it’s her last supper. Your body tenses every time her fingers move back and forth with a squelching sound, while she keeps playing with your juices and clit. Sometimes Jill switches to suck on it while her digits rub and press against your g-spot, making your inner walls clench tightly and buck your hips again.

They move rhythmically onto her face, almost riding it while her other hand is on your lower stomach, keeping you still.

“Fuck, god, Jill” Her name starts to mix among your moans like it is not your voice at all. You know you can’t take it anymore. “Going to cum, pretty girl?” Jill cooed, while her lips are still pressed against your drenched pussy, her voice sends a pleasant vibration that makes you cry more and clench around her digits again. You nod shortly, not being able to let other noises than moans mixed with her name. “come on, do it, you are such a good girl for me”

After her words, you can feel fire pooling low in your abdomen and your body feels like it is burning and getting heavier, you cry out her name as she continues fingering you with the same haste rhythm while sucking on your clit, not giving you a space to breathe or to rest. Your hips buck, inner walls clamp down around her fingers and you cry out for the last time, before going still. Your breathing is unsteady as if you just had a marathon and your vision has gone black for a moment which felt like an eternity. Your body flinched weakly when her fingers slipped out from your inside with a wet sound and you gasped quietly, feeling a little bit sad that it was over.

After you rode off your intense orgasm, you were less breathless but exhausted. Opening your eyes feels so hard and tiring, keeping them half closed and the vision is a little bit blurry. The tiredness is getting the best of you, so you start falling asleep slowly but before that, you are able to notice the movie is still rolling on until Jill turns it off. Then her lips connect with the skin of your cheek, giving a soft and tender kiss. “Movie sucked anyway” she chuckled, brushing off some strands of your hair with care “Rest well, princess”

[marchsfreakshow]

How Dangerously Beautiful [Peter Maximoff]

Fluff

You like collecting knives, and the first time Peter comes over, he's interested in the love you have for the maybe weapons.

Yet another Maximoff fic I'm not sorry. I am love Maximoff :3

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

"We literally just got off the phone Maximoff!" You squealed as the front door was flung open. Nothing could ever make you used to the speedster's mutant powers. No matter how many times he sped himself over to you; outside, at his house, in your garden, at work... it always freaked you out a little. But a grin appeared as Maximoff stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

"well, you asked me to come over. And here I am, over." He breathed out, looking around, then speeding up the stairs. It made a sigh escape your tired body and rushed behind the speedster.

As Maximoff stood by a closed door, he pointed at it, almost quizzically. "Is this your room?"

"Well, do you see another closed doors that have a sign saying my name?"

"ah, yeah." He then just grinned at you and stepped in, immediately taking in the decorations and everything almost cluttering the walls. No mess Maximoff wasn't used to, but still looked around in slight confusion. "And here I thought you were the cleaner one in the relationship." A small chuckle escaped him as you just shrugged and stepped past the speedster.

Your eyes focused on the knife collection you owned with nerves. Sure people around the world liked making different things, selling and buying. But yours was an odd one, and it was the first thing on your mind while your silver-haired boyfriend explored your room. "Well...you know, I try to be." A deep breath when you started your sentence.

Just as soon as you let out a sigh, Peter noticed what you were staring at. He was entranced by the different coloured metals shining in the mid-day light. Entranced by the little details on the handles, and how they seemed to be crafted. "Woah man. These are...fuckin rad..." He whispered, fingernails lightly tracing one of the knives.

A gargled "no!" escaped you as you ran to stand in front of Maximoff. It was useless, he always stood taller than you. "Don't. Don't, touch them." Your voice came out as a shaky whisper rather than a loud and confident command.

"why not?"

"they're precious!!"

"You're precious but I touch you all the time all over."

"oh shut up." Gritted teeth but a blush at his off-handed flirt. Something you were used to, but in a situation like this it overrided your mind. "Just...be careful. Please?"

"Always am babe don't sweat." Another little grin as Maximoff picked up your favourite knife, by complete coincidence. It was a wine red on the handle, covered with little black designs. A spider on the end, a cliché broken heart on the same middle spot on both sides. Little lines and dots around here, there, over and around. Sharpened recently by the looks of it. The blade was dusty looking; the wine red covered in a deep dusk top, perhaps to save the sharpened edge that was new and shiny.

Peter was in love with it. He looked at it like he looked at you whilst you were on top, eyes full of stars...wonder, and just pure amazement. "This is... beautiful.." a small voice coming out of the usually loud and energetic man. As a response you kissed his cheek, staring at your most priceless collectable with the same wonder.

"It's my favourite one, and custom-made. My cousin had it made for me last year on my birthday." It was a bit of random information but probably the only good response you had at that minute. Another little kiss on his cheek as Maximoff placed the knife back in its holder.

"All of these are so pretty. Just like you." Grabbing you by the side and pulling you before him, admiring the small collection. Reds, greens, blues, all shades and colours. They almost sparkled in Peter's eyes as you looked up to him as best you could. "I mean, why knives though babe? They're dangeroussss!" A little singsongy voice, knowing you knew the dangers of having potential weapons such as these.

Small shrug as you wrapped your hands around Maximoff's arms. "I know they're dangerous. But I just, look at them. They're wonderful..."

A small chuckle as kisses were placed around the sides of your face. "Again, beautiful like you. They suit you and I think, you should get a full silver one. Just pure silver."

"what for you?"

"Absolutely!" Both of you laughed to yourselves, just admiring the wall of coloured metal in front of you.

"not a totally stupid idea...I'll think about it."

"you should." Another little laugh as another little set of kisses were peppered over your face.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tag: @silverzoomies @babygorewhore @taintandviolent @coentinim @nahoyasboyfriend @newwavesylviaplath @fear-is-truth @slutforgarlogan @slvt4jamesmarch @bluerthanvelvet444 @briaroftheroses

[ghostboneswrites2]

A Mess || Part 8

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring everything here starting with this series since it was the most popular!

A/N: this is not the last part I promise

Summary: You finally make it to the town you set out for all those days ago. Feelings get shared when you find a place to stay for the night.

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, suggestive

        "Can't believe we left the map." Daryl shook his head as he drove. He finally got one of the cars working, though it had a strong gasoline smell as he drove it. 

        "You were in charge of it." You pointed out.

        "Don;t need it anyhow." He defended. Men and their pride when it came to directions never ceased to amuse you. "Should be 'bout thirty minutes up this road. We can load up some while we're there, get gas, hole up of the night, and loot s'more before we head back tomorrow."

        "Sounds great." You agreed. "If I have to go one more day without a shower I'm gonna kill someone."       

        "Can barely fight a walker off of ya. Who you gonna kill?" He teased.

        "I was distracted." You defended.

        "With what? The view?" He retorted. Well, yes, but you couldn't tell him that.

        "Whatever." You grumbled, crossing your arms and turning your attention out of the window.

        It wasn't long before the town you two originally set out for rolled into view. You spent an hour looting an old thrift store for some clothes and random things you thought the prison could use. Board games, soaps, hairbrushes, plates and bowls, you name it. If they had it, you took it. Next was the pawnshop for guns and ammo, which were pretty sparse but they did have some good knives and machetes. You also found an old DVD player and some movies that you thought might be nice for Carl or something. Daryl focused more on equipment. Golf clubs, tools, lawn equipment for when everyone started working on the garden.

        On your way out of the pawnshop with your load of treasure, you noticed a flyer on the window. 'MONTHLY FOOD DRIVE - DELIVER ALL GOODS TO 227 PINEBLUFF CT DR'

        "Hey, check this out." You called Daryl over. He squinted as he read it.

        "C'mon. Town's small. Can't be too hard to find."

----

        It wasn't hard to find. It was a church, of course. Wasn't hard to clear the place out, either. Just the pastor and a few ladies stumbling around. They had a bunch of canned goods stored in an office, which you and Daryl happily loaded up in the car.

        "Think this is a good spot to crash for the night?" You asked him. 

        "Nah. Windows are all busted. We'll find a little house or somethin." He said.

        So, when you guys were done with the church, you drove around for a little while, siphoning gas from random vehicles and searching for a house suitable for the night. He settled on a little blue house, with a fenced in front and back yard. He reasoned the fencing was good added protection.  Plus, the windows looked to be in tact and overall the place looked untouched.

        There weren't any walkers inside, but there also wasn't any food. There was, however, running water. Whoever these people were, they ran their house off filtered rain water. 

        While Daryl was working on blocking all the exits off with furniture and nailing blankets over the windows so nothing could see inside, you opted for a shower. It wasn't hot since the house had no power, but damn was it nice to feel clean. Well, as clean as you could get with no soap, anyways. The towels were all dusty, so you drip dried when you got out. When you were dry enough you slid into the extra outfit you packed, and found your way back out to Daryl. He had the house as safe as he could get it by then.

        "All yours." You told him.

        "Nah." He shrugged.

        "Uh, you smell like a biohazard." You insisted. He glared.

        "Yeah, shoulda smelled yourself. By day two in that tree house you were chokin' flies." He shot back.

        "And, would ya look at that, I showered!" You sneered. He huffed a little breathy laugh and shook his head as he grabbed his bag and disappeared to the shower.

        You were hungry, so you decided to light the gas stove and heat up a can of Campbell's chunky beef stew for the two of you to share. By the time it was done, he was out, so the two of you ate in silence before tossing the emtpy can and borrowed spoon in the sink.

        "It's not even dark yet." You commented.

        "Yeah. Best to get to bed early. We can head out first thing, make it back home by tomorrow night." He reasoned.

        "Guess so." You agreed.

        "Guess? You don't wanna get back?" He questioned.

  ��     "And give up our quality bonding time?" You joked. He scoffed and shook his head. Damn, you were a smartass. 

        "'S that what ya call it?"

        "Yup. What else would it be?"

        "Thought we were stranded on an island." He recalled.

        "Oh, that. No, I was just hungry." You shrugged. "Never take me seriously when I'm hungry. I become a different person, really."

        He rolled his eyes a little. "Still wanna play that game?" He asked.

        "What game?"

        "Twenty questions."

        "Twenty-one questions, Dixon." You corrected. "And sure. You go first."

        "Alright." He nodded, pondering for a moment. He had a million questions he could ask, but somehow they felt too personal. Did you miss Shane? Were you ready to move on? Did you like him, or were you just a tease? Why did you always pick on him? Was it the same reason he always picked at you and gave you shit? "How ya like the shoes?"

        "They're good." You nodded. "I love them. Thanks again. Uh.." You thought for a second. "How long do you wanna grow your hair out?"

        "I dunno." He shrugged. "What'd ya like to do before the world went to shit?"

        "Hmm... Paint, listen to music, go go out and eat my weight in food from little hole in the wall restaurants." You recalled. "What kind of music do you like?"

        "Whatever was on the radio." He said. "You plan on movin' on?"

        That was an okay question to ask, right? He broke the ice pretty well, he thought, with the rapid fire Q&A flying between the two of you. He realized maybe not, though, because you seemed to really take your time with that one.

        "Don't see why not." You finally said. "I mean, he would, right? As long as I thought I found someone who would treat me right... Are you seeing anyone right now?"

        You asked the question so casually but it choked him up. He felt so naked, like a chicken with all its feathers plucked off one by one.

        "No." He cleared his throat. "Nah."

        Uncomfortable silence blanketed over the two of you.

        "Your turn." You reminded him.

        "Oh. Are you?"

        "Am I..?"

        "Seein' anyone." He clarified. You giggled a little.

        "No. But I have met someone. Real nice guy, actually. He gets me gifts and teases the hell out of me,  but I think he'd do just about anything for me." You smiled to yourself. He had to know you were talking about him, right? Wrong. He was clueless. Right over his head. He admittedly felt sad to hear it. Who was this guy? He kind of sounded like everything Daryl tried to be for you. "Do you like anyone?" You asked, taking him out of his swirling thoughts.

        "Nah." He shrugged. A lie, but everything he had tried to work up to was washed away when you said you met someone.

        "Oh." You said, slight sadness hinting in your voice. "Your turn." You reminded him again.

        "Who's the guy?" He asked.

        "Oh, you don't know him." You waved him off. If you could slap yourself, your would. What kind of lie was that? He knew everyone. There were literally less than ten of you if you didn't count the baby. 

        "Oh? Some kind o' pen or somethin'?" He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Then it hit him; you were talking about him. That's why it sounded like everything Daryl tried to be for you, because it was him. "Oh." He blurted quietly.

        Your face felt like it drained of blood completely. Well, way to completely humiliate yourself around the only real friend you had, huh?

        "You okay?" He asked.

        "Yeah." You nodded, forcing a smile, but your voice was sort of meek and squeaky. You shook it off, reminding yourself that you were, in fact, not the type to falter under pressure. This would be no different. So what if you liked him and he didn't feel the same? You could get past that. It was nothing--

        "(Y/N)." He snapped you out of your thoughts. 

        "Hmm?"

        "You asked if I like someone..." He trailed as he shifted uncomfortably.

        "Yeah?"

        "It's just -- I do, but... How do I know she likes me too?" 

        He didn't make eye contact as he asked. In fact, he looked quite literally everywhere except at you.

        "You just... ask. And if you don't wanna ask... Make your move." You shrugged.

        "Right." He nodded.

        Well, that conversation had gotten awkward enough for you, so you figured that was a good place to end it. You cleared your throat and stood up.

        "I'm gonna go choose a bed." You announced.

        You went to walk past where he sat on the couch but he stood up abruptly and cut you off.

        You looked up at him with confusion. What did he want? Your nerves were eating away at you and you were honestly pretty tired. You shifted your weight anxiously.

        "Daryl--" You went to complain about it but he had other plans. He gripped your arms firmly and smashed his face into yours. Like, actually smashed. It hurt. "Ow." You mumbled as you rubbed over your mouth. He gulped. It was supposed to be a kiss. Was he always so clumsy?

        "Sorry, I--"

        "Were you trying to kiss me?" You asked. He just stared at you. "'Cause, I gotta tell ya,you could really work on your technique." You smirked. 

        When he remained frozen, you began to feel bad for teasing him. He clearly had no idea what to do now. His hands were even still rested on your arms.

        "Here, let me show you." You whispered. You reached up for his face, his hands sliding softly off of your arms. When your palms found his checks,you tippy-toed up a couple of inches, and slowly leaned in, placing your lips softly on his. It wasn't a long, rhythmic kind of kiss. It was just simple and soft, and it lasted just a few seconds longer than a quick peck-and-go.

        His eyes were still closed when you pulled back, a tiny smile slowly spreading over your lips. When his eyes opened,he looked disappointed, like he was waiting for more. 

        He leaned down slowly, a little unsure. He was waiting for you to stop him, but you didn't. You pushed yourself back up on your toes o close the gap and snaked your arms around his neck. This time, it was deeper. You slowly moved your lips, allowing him to find the rhythm and synchronise. When he felt a little more confident, his hands gripped your hips and he quickened the pace.

        Slowly, he eased you down onto the couch. You gladly followed his lead. When you were comfortably seated, his lips peeled away and his kisses found their way down from your cheek to your neck to your collarbone. Oh, this was going to get good.

A/N: next part will be spicy ;)

Masterlist || Taglist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader

((I didn't use the tags in all the one shots I just transferred cause I didn't wanna hit you guys with like 348827502720 notifications in one day))