#somehow managed to hit post early

[emry-stars-art]

Reintroducing these two Trojans ❤️💛

[sexbot300]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ brat-tamer!toji

authors note: no thots, just him. this is just pure smut, sorry lollllll. need him so bad u don’t understand. with that being said, minors dni, 18+ ! thank you for the love on my first few posts! i appreciate it all of it <3 i'm not ignoring my messages btw, just extremely busy with my studies! ♡

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

brat-tamer!toji who notices you acting up and simply asks, “cranky because you ain’t got dick today?”

brat-tamer!toji who only looks at you with a raised brow and (huge) arms across his chest when you purposely try to piss him off. so cute.

brat-tamer!toji who purposely puts his entire body weight on top of you when you beg him to stop due to overstimulation. he tugs you even closer, just laughing in your face.

brat-tamer!toji who stops thinking coherent thoughts when he sees you in a sundress.

brat-tamer!toji who rewards your good behavior with head (lets you squirt) and also punishes your bad behavior with head (denies you relief, gives in eventually, sometimes).

brat-tamer!toji who loooovessssss shoving your face into the pillow while you whine, pant, and moan. he loves to put your head into a headlock with his bicep, as drool escapes your lips, and you’re babbling like an idiot while he’s hitting it from the back.

brat-tamer!toji who casually lifts you up and fucks you in the air as if just anyone can do it. “such a perfect little pocket pussy,” he snickers.

brat-tamer!toji who gets you cock drunk so often (he’s starting to think that it’s your normal state).

brat-tamer!toji who likes to make you count every time he spanks the fat of your ass when arched up across his lap. slap! “24…” you say with a slight moan, biting your bottom lip in, as he soothes the red outline forming on your cheek. he grins above you, “should’ve known a cock-bent whore like you would take this as pleasurable rather than punishment.”

brat-tamer!toji who makes a safe word with you early on (which you tease him for doing so early, he only tsks because he knows YOU know how much you mean to him and he puts your well-being above anything else).

brat-tamer!toji who has a hidden collection of pictures on his phone with you smiling, his cum decorating your face.

brat-tamer!toji who grips your face in the middle of a make out session, pulling away as he notices your fucked out, panting expression. “open.” you quickly open up your mouth as he slowly lets spit hit onto your tongue. he lightly chuckles. “obedient slut.” you look at him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wanting more. “swallow.”

brat-tamer!toji who finds his favorite position to be when his massive balls are hitting your clit and he mercilessly pounds, abusing your little cunt from the back as he strings profanity out of his mouth. or a full nelson where he just tells you to, “shut the fuck up and take it.” or even a mating press where he can pummel his cum into you while seeing your face contort in pure bliss. “y-yeah. ‘ust let loose. go dumb on this dick.”

brat-tamer!toji who regularly calls you; “slut, (needy or cock) whore, vixen, pretty, disgusting, (stupid) bitch, brat, bad girl, good girl, perfect, beautiful, gorgeous, princess, angel, (sex or fuck) toy, doll, bunny, cum-slut, cum-dumpster, sugar… etc”

brat-tamer!toji who gets annoyed at your endless ramblings about your day, he sighs and tells you to get on your knees. you promptly do that, but to push his buttons you don’t stop rambling on and on and on. somehow, this man manages to get his 8 (girthy) inches down your throat. “cant complain with my cock in your mouth, huh?” he only smirks as you become teary-eyed, moaning a little at his statement, lapping your tongue up and down like a starving dog. he throws his head back, forearms supporting him while you bob your head back and forth on his thick length. “hey… never said that my cock doesn’t appreciate your tongue. s’ch a good girl when you do what you’re made for. unh!”

brat-tamer!toji who presses against you into a mirror, his broader, massive frame encasing you while he stares into your soul. “i-i don’t understand what i did?” you look up at him feigning innocence, batting your eyelashes. fingers caress his forearms, down his hard bicep, and lightly trace his hardened outline. his eyes never leave yours, a stern, menacing look to the average person, but you can tell he’s about to have you praying for mercy in another way. “of course you don’t understand what you did.” you whine slightly when his fingers suddenly grab a fist full of your hair, burning your scalp, his voice turns mockingly softer. “all you know in that pretty, empty, head of yours is just fucking. nothing else.” he quickly releases you, eliciting a gasp, magically flipping you around in an instant so you’re staring at yourself in the mirror now. “told you not to play with yourself until i came home. but you just haaad to be difficult.” he gripped the vibrator in one hand that was tucked away, pressing it against your lips. “spit.” you spat on it, eyes full of want. he only snickered and smirked. “good luck thinking I’m going to let you cum. stare in the mirror while I do this.” he turned the toy on, a vibrating tune humming throughout the room. “need you to realize how pathetic you look begging.” you gasped slightly, “b-but-" he proceeds to pry your legs apart with one massive thigh, his hand gripping the front of your neck, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. “push your skirt up. you lost your right to cum, stupid whore. cum without permission, see what happens.”

brat-tamer!toji who loves to fuck you on his fingers. he loves the lewd noise it makes while ramming his two middle fingers in and out, or up and down. he loves to see your jaw go slack as you beg him to stop. “i-it’s… uhhhhhh! t-to- ah! -ji, toooooo-uhhh much!” he never loses focus, “yeah? yeah?” he presses his hand on your lower abdomen, “quite honestly, don’t care what you think.” he only licks his lips, his scarred lip grins with anticipation to finally taste you when you unfold.

brat-tamer!toji who degrades you like it’s a living but LIVES for your filthy mouth. he loves that you talk back, he’ll never admit it. he loves putting cum sluts like you in their place.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

brat-tamer!toji who weirdly… gets needy at times when you finish. he’ll hold you from behind, shutting his eyes while his arms are wrapped around, practically glued to your torso, the backside of your body molds perfectly to the front of his. legs intertwined, your head against his chest, a moment of pure bliss shared between you two. “who knew the big bad toji likes to cuddle?” “shut up.”

(silly toji! i need him to ruin me)

[westside-rot]

Talk To Me Nice

Pairing: Terry Richmond X Black reader

No warnings for this one. Hopefully there aren't too many errors cuz it's only lightly edited. I'm trying to squeeze in my last post of the year lol

This little idea is the result of a writing prompt and @megamindsecretlair keeping me honest about writing something every day. Figured I'd share the results with whoever else wants to check it out.

“That’s a bit harsh my love…”

After spending the last 20 minutes filling your home with negative energy you expected reciprocation.  Instead you were being derailed with a new form of gaslighting, the kind reserved for evolved men who appeared harmless on the surface but harbored a petty side few got to see. Though impressive, you knew Terry was only using kind words to paint himself the victim. It didn’t matter how many steps ahead you thought you were. The guilt still hit with the same bruising force.

Six months of newlywed bliss cruelly interrupted by disappointment you never wanted to feel so early into your marriage. Perhaps there was a better way to convey that hurt to your husband. Maybe sitting him down for a mature conversation would’ve spared you from the growing pressure around your temples and the rawness in your throat from all the yelling you’d been doing. You were convinced the window for apologies and grand romantic gestures had closed. He'd started it. You were damn sure going to finish it.

You pushed through your doubts and committed to your frustrations with arms folded tightly across your chest, the initial urge to roll your eyes shifting to a hard, resolute stare. “Well Terrence sometimes harsh is necessary.”

He scratched his beard and nodded as though you’d just agreed on what to have for dinner. Silence took over the room once again, intensifying the conflict between you. His eyes never broke contact.

“Are you done?” From anyone else the question would’ve triggered your inner toxic and possibly resulted in the police being called. But there was note of calmness in your husband’s voice that exonerated him from the accusation before it became your new truth. Terry wasn’t being dismissive. He was simply better at regulating his emotions.  His inability to stop wringing his hands together revealed the stress hidden within. For a second time you were forced to ignore your guilt for the sake of winning. Mirroring his casual demeanor, you continued to stand firm and prepared for whatever he intended to say next.

“I must’ve imagined sitting in premarital counseling for all those weeks. Or maybe I was the only one taking it seriously. That must be it 'cause at the first sign of a problem you’ve broken every promise we made to each other.” His words landed direct hits on your conscience. Everything holding you together began to cave under the weight of his response. Terry wasn’t wrong. Instinctively, you went into defense mode anyway.  

“That’s not fai—”

“Nah, you’re not about to interrupt me. I let you speak. You’ll show me the same respect. Understand?” The natural base in his voice instantly got your attention. Yes sir rang so clearly in your mind you weren’t entirely convinced you hadn’t said it out loud. You prayed Terry couldn’t somehow feel the lust pulsing alongside everything else flooding your system. One day soon under normal circumstances you were going to explore his newfound aggressive side. How, you weren’t entirely sure. With a new goal seared into your brain and soaked through panties clinging to your ass you managed to retain a sense of dignity as you obeyed your husband’s command. 

“You’re my wife. One day you’ll be the mother of our children. I refuse to let them hear us talking crazy to each other, so I’m gonna need you to find a better way to communicate your feelings. If I need to sign us back up for therapy I will but this shit ends tonight.”

All the fight drained from your body. Shame took its place. In its presence you were finally able to recall those important conversations leading up to your wedding, the dreams you shared, the legacy you wanted to create. If not for your anger you could have revisited them sooner and found a better use for them. Now you were facing an evening apart, perhaps more depending on how long Terry held on to a grudge.

All you could do was stare at the ground and wait for it to be over with. Hopefully you’d find a way to sleep knowing you had failed your first test as a wife. When your lip started to quiver you promptly bit down on it to keep your hurt feelings in check.  You hadn’t behaved in a way deserving of care but when Terry's long fingers reached out to palm the side of your face you sought out his warmth like a needy kitten.

“Now you’re breaking my heart.”

“I can’t help it. Did you have to be so mean?” Though you found your ability to speak you burrowed your pout lips further into his hand. The loudest person in the room didn’t deserve to cry. If you were lucky you'd disappear and rematerialize tomorrow with more sense.

“It got your attention. Besides, I thought harsh was necessary. Or does that only apply when you’re cursing me out?” He chuckled.  You weren’t persuaded by the playfulness in his voice to look up. Terry initiated the gesture with fingers affectionately placed beneath your chin. It wasn’t lost on you that he'd repositioned your face at the same proud angle you held while lecturing him as if two nights apart somehow equated to years of neglect. You wanted to look away but soon discovered his eyes remained steadfast and beautiful in the aftermath of the storm you’d caused. They connected with your soul in an instant providing a gentle assurance that you were safe with him.

 The words flowed through your upturned lips effortlessly. “I’m sorry baby. You didn’t deserve all those ugly things I said to you.” Before you could say more he captured your face in both hands, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re already forgiven my love.” Terry’s lips grazed yours as he spoke. The distance was torture. Finally, after what felt like an unbearably long time, he covered your mouth with his, reestablishing his dominance with a tenderness that sets your heart and mind at ease.  It was a proper reconciliation, but it also wasn’t enough. Not after the way you behaved tonight.

You treated the sincerity on his lips as your own personal buffet. When it became difficult to breathe you pulled away to regain control over the situation.  “I still have a lot to make up for.”

A smile tugged at his lips as he pushed the curls back from your face. “We both do. Your approach needs some work, but you had a right to be upset with me.” You nodded and yet nothing in you wanted to celebrate the vindication. You were simply relieved to know you hadn’t caused any irrevocable damage by overreacting. Even more relieved to see him smiling again.  "I think my beautiful and extremely childish wife should get the honor of going first.”

The frown you attempted to hold cracked under the pressure of his wide grin. You hate being teased. You were also guilty on all counts and willing to take your punishment. “I suppose that’s fair.”

“It’s very fair.” He mumbled between prolonged kisses down your neck.

You exhaled and curved your fingers over his broad shoulders. It was becoming harder to think or even breathe with him sucking everywhere his lips could reach. “Can we talk it out like grown-ups tomorrow?”

“Of course, baby. It's mandatory from now on.” When he spoke the guttural quality possessing his voice registered deep in the places he’s yet to touch. You felt painfully empty but knew you wouldn’t stay that way for long. At the rate his lips were moving you weren’t convinced you'd make it past the couch. You preferred the comfort of your king-sized bed the scene of your crime was a fitting place for getting down on your knees to make proper use of your mouth.

Terry surprised you when he broke the suction on your collarbone to reunite at eye level. There was a noticeable glint of mischief in his eyes before he bent down to throw you over his shoulder. You squealed and braced a hand at the center of his back for support you really didn't need.

"You better not drop me trying to be cute!"

"I was planning on letting you off easy tonight. Now I'm thinking your apology needs to be as loud as all that shit you've been talking."

"Yes daddy. Remind me what all these big strong muscles are really for. Also, please send help!"

With a single act you reclaim the home you’ve built, your gasps and combined laughter echoing along the walls as he carried you upstairs.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

hello 🩷recently found and loved your account so i’m here to ask from you!!

criminal minds SSA aaron hotchner x reader

i’d love any explicit smut 😋

ideal trope(s) would be jealousy, established but secret relationship due to workplace like the whole thing stems from AH being jealous af that you’re getting hit on or smth and he can’t do shy about it in public but oh when ur home.. 👀👀👀

hahaha sorry the brain rot is real

thank you if you do this!!

and i hope u never stop writing i’ve been reading ur other posts too i love them sm

ೇ new side of life ― aaron hotchner .ᐟ

pairing .ᐟ aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

summary | your new relationship brings out a side of aaron that he had never seen before.

warnings | established relationship, jealousy (obvi), unprotected sex, rough sex, teasing, couch sex, aaron lowkey bends you like a pretzel, heavy praise, he taps you on the cheek (lovingly ofc), implied creampie, consent king aaron!!, slightly insecure aaron, implied age gap but not specified, body massages and an implied size kink!

wordcount | 2018

۶ৎ a/n .ᐟ | WOW a long smut fic, who would have thought? anywho, i'm trying to break free from posting headcanons because i just know they'll overtake this account. thank you for this request!

— links .ᐟ masterlist | ao3

Aaron felt his eye twitch. 

His eye never twitches.

The culprit? The maintenance man that won’t stop talking to you. 

He had so much paperwork he needed to complete, the stack of it had begun to tower, but Aaron couldn’t manage to get himself to focus on anything else but you. 

Your relationship was fairly new, so you both had just agreed to keep it low-key for now. It wasn’t like you guys were lying, how could you when you were constantly surrounded by nosy profilers? 

With new relationships came new feelings, and one of them he hadn’t felt since he was a young man somehow managed to resurface right under his nose: jealousy.

Yes, he had his moments of jealousy when he had first gotten with Hailey, but this? This was different. The age gap between the two of you wasn’t that large, but it was considerable enough that when he saw men closer to your age creeping around you, it always put him in a foul mood.

Like right now he just wants to storm down there and kiss you right in front of that stupid kid. The urge was primal and unfamiliar, and quite frankly it drove him insane.

Aaron was sure you hadn’t meant to come off as flirtatious, and who were your colleagues to step in if you looked genuinely interested in the guy? For all they knew you were single.

Oh, yeah, this was going to drive him over the edge, and it was all your fault.

It was safe to say you were excited when Aaron had decided to call it an early night, you just hadn’t expected him to jump on you as soon as you breached the threshold of your home.

He didn’t give you time to think or even put your things down, his briefcase followed along by your purse collapsed to the floor with a surprisingly loud thud!

Your lungs burned and your face was hot, heated between the two furnaces that were Aaron’s large and work-worn hands. You desperately clung onto the sleeves of his suit jacket, the material twisting between your fingers to keep yourself sturdy as he walked backwards.

“A- Aaron wha - what’s going on?” You pleaded breathlessly. You had to slightly shove the man away even though you were met with his uncharacteristic resistance. He just stood there and stared at you like a wild man, pupils dilated and chest rising and falling with every hastened breath he took.

He shook his head and blinked, like his thoughts were escaping him. Aaron couldn’t think when you looked at him like that; your lips kiss swollen with a light sheen of spit, your blouse covered breasts grazing his firm chest.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Was all he could say before reconnecting your lips. 

He continues to walk backwards before the back of his calves meet the couch. He allows himself to drop down with a slight oomf, his needy hands tugging on yours encouragingly until you clambered onto his lap.

He didn’t give you time to show him any hesitancy, his palms gripping your hips firmly and all but holding you down against him. You gasped at the feeling, your fingers scratching at the shaved hairs on the back of his neck. 

“Aaron! What has gotten into you?” The question was a flustered giggle. Aaron’s eyes casted to the side in a rare show of nervousness. 

“It’s ridiculous.” He mutters. “I can bet you a million dollars that whatever you’re going to say isn’t as silly as you think it is.”

“It was that guy. The one that wouldn’t stop talking to you.” It took you a moment to think back on it before you finally understood what he meant. “The maintenance man? What about him?”

“He was flirting with you, and - I don’t know, it made me feel things I haven’t in a long time.”

Saying the actual word jealousy seemed so juvenile to Aaron; he was a grown ass man with a grown ass man job, so what right did he have to be acting like this?

“Oh.” It was long and drawn out. You felt a smirk begin to form on your face and you gently coaxed his eyes to meet yours. Aaron’s gaze was unsure. 

“You know I’m yours, right? I don’t want anyone else that isn’t you, no matter how young, rich or tall.” Your hips begin to grind down on his and Aaron chokes back a groan. His grip on your flesh gets stronger and it draws a whimper out of you.

“Yeah?” He asks sensually, his voice a low purr. He aids in your grinding and your head grows fuzzy. “Yeah.”

He’s quick to reposition the both of you, your back now resting on the couch cushions. He kisses down your neck, nipping lightly at the skin there. It sends a shiver down your spine and your lower half canting up, desperately searching for friction. 

Your hot cunt meets his knee. “Ah! Aaron.” You whined, fingers digging into his shoulders. Your boyfriend has one foot on the ground and the other wedged between your legs.

Aaron rises from your chest for a moment, shoving off his suit jacket and working the buttons on his shirt. You take it upon yourself to take your blouse off, arms reaching behind you to unclasp your bra with learned precision. 

His eyes fall on your breasts and you could have sworn his movements gained a bit of franticness.

“Like what you see?” You couldn’t help but tease, your hands now working to shimmy your pencil skirt down your thighs. “Very much.” Aaron agrees with a lazy half smile. “Here, let me help.” You lift your hips up and he takes both your panties and skirt off at the same time.

The casual show of strength made your stomach clench, and you all but snatched Aaron by the back of his neck back down to your level. A noise of surprise escapes him and you take it as a chance to slip your tongue in his mouth.

Your body begins to heat up, his taking grabs and grips driving you insane.

“Fuck me.” You heave. Aaron pulls away from you, “Are you sure? You aren’t prepared well yet, and I don’t want to hurt you.” You smile softly. “As much as I appreciate your concern about me, I’ll let you know if there’s any discomfort, okay?”

Aaron thinks on your words for a moment, mulling them about in his brain before relenting at the feeling of your sweet, tempting hands stroking his bare chest.

“You always have to keep me on my toes, don’t you?” 

“That was in the agreement.” You bite playfully. He snorts and rolls his eyes, but sits up once more to unbutton his pants. 

With what feels like forever, he’s finally bare for your hungry eyes and clambering on top of you.

Resuming his old position, he wraps your legs around his waist, the tip of his cock poking at your slit. The two of you shiver at the feeling.

“Are you sure about this, sweetheart? You know I don’t mind eating you out; I’m in no rush.” Your cheeks turn warm at his crudeness. “I’m sure, baby. I need you. Now.” With one final search of your face, he begins to push forward.

Your breath catches in your throat and you hold on to his muscular biceps. Your eyes flutter shut at the full feeling of him, your legs trembling and stomach tightening. 

The first initial stretch hurts of course, but with a minute of laying there adjusting to Aaron’s size as he delivers very stimulating circles on your clit to distract you from the discomfort, you find yourself loosening up.

“Move.” You grunted quietly. 

Aaron’s jaw is set tight, the vein in his forehead slightly bulging when he proceeds to thrust experimentally. Your lips roll in between your teeth to hold back the whorish moan that threatens to practically barrel out of you. 

He does it again, and again, and again, until all of his self control is thrown out the window and the only thing he can think of is you; of how tight you are around him.

“It feels so good, baby. So, so good…” You babble, your hands reaching up to grip the armrest of the couch for more leverage. “I know honey, I know. ‘M gonna get deeper, okay?” Aaron groans. You nod wildly, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of your face.

He steadies himself on the knee placed on the couch, lifting your legs up so either one sits on his big, broad shoulders. 

The change in position caused your back to arch, your mouth dropping open into an ‘o’ shape as you struggled to keep your head on straight.“Mphm! You’re so - you’re so deep.” You cried out, tears brimming on your eyelashes. “I know I am, baby. But you can take it right?”

“Mhm! I can! I know I can!” 

“You can take it because you’re mine right? Because you’re my good girl?” 

His praise pushes you dangerously close to the edge, and you’re honestly convinced that the crescent shape of your nails will leave an imprint on the material forever. The couch cushions stick to your skin like glue, the so of skin hitting skin resounded throughout the room lewdly.

A hand lightly slapped your face, your cheeks squeezed between his fingers, puckering slightly.

“I asked you a question, didn't I sweetheart?”

“You did, you did! ‘M sorry. ‘M your good girl, please.”

What you were begging for, you didn’t know; was it mercy? Was it a desperate call for your sanity? Whatever it was could wait, because you were going to cum.

“Gah! God, Aaron, ‘m gonna cum! Help me cum, please.” You begged again. “I got you honey.”

Aaron’s hand slithered down your body before landing on your clit, a calloused thumb drawing it around in firm circles. Your body moved and convulsed violently, your moans growing in volume – you’re sure you’re going to receive a noise complaint in the mail later.

That coil in your stomach threatened to snap, and all you could think to say was, “Cum with me?” 

To be frank, Aaron was ready to cum a few thrusts before, but he was always one to prolong his pleasure if that meant satisfying you.

“Of - of course.” He stuttered, his dominance slowly slipping away from him.

Aaron bent forward just a little more to test how far he could push you, and though you were sure your muscles were going to ache when everything died down, but God, this was so, so worth it.

“F- fuck!” You swore as you came.

Everything disappeared for a moment besides the sound of Aaron’s guttural groan that sounded more like a loud, long-drawn-out whimper than anything when he came too.

You were slowly brought back to reality by Aaron massaging your sore muscles, gently twisting them and rubbing out any potential knots that threatened to form. You knew he'd disappear in a minute to grab something to wipe you down with, but you couldn’t seem to find it within your post orgasmic bliss to care.

“Mm, that’s nice.” You rasped, your eyelids fluttering open to face your disheveled boyfriend. His hair was all out of place in the best way possible, his bare body shining in a clear sheen of sweat. If you weren’t so tired, you think you’d jump straight to a round two.

“I’m sure,” Aaron’s voice was just as hoarse as yours. “I think I pushed your body a bit too far.”

“Don’t get started, Aaron.” You chided lightly. “It was perfect, okay? You were perfect. Now get up here.” 

You dragged him from where he was and laid his body on top of yours.

“Down.” You demanded playfully. “I’m heavy, honey.”

“Don’t care.” You exaggerated the ‘don’t’ and pulled the rest of him down.

“I want to lay like this for a minute.”

“Alright,” Aaron nodded to himself. “I can do a minute.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[thatguywrites]

Could you do driver + wags taking care of drunk driver!reader after first race win? :)

Drivers + Wags my beloved

A/N: Disappearing and remembering to post on a random day? More likely than you think :/ I'm on vacation, so I don't have much time to write, I'll be back home this weekend though so I hope to get back into the swing of things

Drivers + Wags with Race Winner Boyfriend

Oscar + Lily

Oscar, pretty recently had his first win, so he gets how it feels

He did not however, go as hard as you've gone in celebration

Both Oscar and Lily are pretty introverted, so they'll go to a bar with you, but only to stay in the corner keeping their eyes on you

Make sure you don't keep jumping off tables

Once you calm down a bit and seek them out, they just call a taxi to bring you home

Where they then have to wrestle you into bed, to prevent any injuries

The next morning they treat you to breakfast in bed, as another congratulations, and to help a hit with the hangover

Every ten seconds they'll remind you that the trophy, and the win was real

The smile on your face is identical to the smile on theirs

Max + Kelly

The celebration begins right there on the podium, where Max shoots almost all of his champagne into your throat

The fans question it, but you're too distracted to notice

The two of you instantly go to the bar, where you keep celebrating with your teams all night, before you're both calling Kelly to come pick you up

When she picks you up she can't help but poke fun at the race winner turned drunk

But your pout puts an end to that

In the end, she has to guide the two of you to bed, and make sure you stay there

Once she gets into bed with you though, there's no reason to get out

Charles + Alex

Charles lifts you on his shoulders in the club and has to pass your drinks up to you

The three of you turn in early for some... other... celebrations

After that Alex and Charles pamper you beyond belief

A bath with all of Alex's bath salts and candles

The finest chocolate and plenty of water

And the warmest cuddles to lure you to sleep

In the morning the three of you eat cereal in bed together, giggling about the day before's events

Eventually you'll have to get up, but not for now

Alex + Lily

Once you're off the podium, Lily is the first to hug you, and she doesn't let go for the rest of the night

Alex joins soon after, pushing any jealousy down (especially if you won with red bull) to celebrate with you

Ya'll club hard

Lily keeps convincing you to take shots

At some point you take a body shot off of Alex

It is a wild night

After the three of you somehow manage to stumble home, none of you are in the state to care for yourselves or each other

So you all collapse into bed without a shower

In the morning you take a bath together and nurse eachother back to health

But it is a long process considering how hungover all three of you are

Valtteri + Tiffany

Valtteri runs from the Mercedes garage to the podium ceremony faster than your car

After you get off he kisses you so hard you see stars

Whispers something in your ear about licking the champagne off of you later...

Before you go out Tiffany gives you hugs and kisses as well

But only you and Valtteri end up going to a club

You end up in a drinking contest, and after you win Valtteri has the sense to bring you home

Turns out Tiffany created a huge pile of blankets and pillows on the bed for their winner to relax

They hand feed you some fruit and crackers before passing out along side you

Taglist: (Comment or DM to be added)

@koalapastries @justaf1girl @spoonfulofmilo @lokisen @op-81-lvr-reblogs

[ambiguous-avery]

Blind Date

Dean Winchester x Castiel | WC: 3360

Summary: Sam sets Dean up on a blind date, but nothing is quite what it seems. 

Tags/Warnings: Destiel, modern AU(? IDK what to call it), fluff, mechanic!Dean, accountant!Castiel, no beta we die like men

A/N: Alright, writing something a little out of my SPN wheelhouse but back into territory I used to always write! Saw this post by @colorlessjay and inspiration just hit. Whatever’s in your coffee, keep it up (and share with me, please!). Hopefully I did your idea justice! Thanks for sharing it 💜 (Also, please forgive me if Castiel is mischaracterized. I’m still in the early seasons of Cas)

It was a stupid bet. 

Not because he was opposed to a blind date. But because Sam was throwing away money, and Dean was all too happy to abuse the hell out of a free meal. And some post-date sex too, if he was lucky.

The restaurant he pulled up to was far too swanky for Dean’s liking, and the two cars he parked his Impala between were worth more than yearly rent. He tapped his fingers nervously against the steering wheel and tugged at his collar, wishing Sam would’ve given him a bit more of a warning about the restaurant he had picked for Dean. 

This was upscale. Like, way upscale. The kind of fancy where they probably had fifteen different forks and expected you to know which one to use first. The valet had given him a once-over when Dean had insisted on parking Baby himself, their eyes raised in silent judgement at Dean’s apparel. His second-best flannel and jeans with only a single tear at the knee were hardly the appropriate attire for this place. But it was too late to back out now.

“Fuck it,” Dean muttered, checking his watch – 6:55. Five minutes to spare. He was early, which never happened. Sam would’ve had a field day with that information. But knowing Dean’s luck, the person Sam had set him up with was probably already there, wondering if they had been stood up. Dean cracked his knuckles and gave his reflection a quick once-over in the rearview mirror before climbing out of the car, his usual bravado and swagger in place. It was a good thing Dean was used to faking like he belonged.

The interior of the restaurant was all polished wood and low lighting with a live jazz band playing in the corner.

“Reservation?” the hostess asked, her smile professional and polite even as she looked him over.

“Yeah, should be under Cas.” Dean shifted his weight from foot to foot uncomfortable. Sam hadn’t even told him his date’s full name, just that they had “similar tastes” and “would get along.” Knowing Sam, she was going to be some bookworm who’d spend the whole night talking about nerd stuff.

The hostess lead him into the restaurant, weaving between tables of laughing couples and groups of friends. Dean tugged at his flannel again and silently cursed Sam.

“Your party is already seated,” she said, stopping at a corner table.

Dean paused mid-step.

A man was seated there.

Not a woman.

A man.

This had to be a mistake. Or more likely, this was Sam’s idea of a joke. Set Dean up with a dude, take photos from the outside, and laugh about it for months. Classic Sam. The hostess cleared her throat. “Sir?”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks,” Dean mumbled, approaching the table. He was going to kill his brother. Slowly and painfully. Possibly with one of those fancy forks. Okay, kill was a little extreme. Maybe some Nair in Sam’s shampoo again would be enough. Or supergluing his laptop shut.

The man looked up, startled by Dean’s arrival, and holy shit – those were some blue eyes. Like, unnaturally blue. The kind of blue that put the sky to shame. They were striking, even in the dim restaurant lighting. The man tilted his head slightly, brow furrowing in confusion. His dark hair was tousled, like he’d run his hands through it a few too many times and somehow managed to make it look intentionally messy. He wore a crisp, button-down with a tie that matched his eyes, a stark contrast to the rumpled trench coat that pooled in his seat. Despite that, he was still better dressed than Dean.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice unexpectedly deep and gravelly. Dean sank into his chair across from the stranger and swallowed hard.

“Look, man, I know what’s going on. Sammy put you up to this? I gotta say, it’s a good one. He really went all out.”

The man’s confused expression only deepened.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know any ‘Sammy.’” He glanced around as though he were looking for the parent of a lost child. “I believe you may have the wrong table.” Dean’s eyes narrowed at him. The man was certainly committed to the bit, he’d give him that.

“Right. So you just happen to have a reservation under the same name as my blind date? Come on, man. You’ve gotta do better than that.” 

The stranger’s shoulders tensed.

“I wasn’t aware I was occupying someone else’s reservation. The hostess seated me here ten minutes ago.”

“Look, you can drop the act. I know Sam set this whole thing up to mess with me.” Dean scowled and leaned forward, lowering his voice. “What’d he promise you? Free drinks? Dinner?” The other man’s expression shifted from confusion to annoyance, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Listen,” the man began, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. “I don’t know who you are or who this ‘Sammy’ is, but I have had too long of a week to be dealing with this. I simply want a quiet dinner. I’m not part of whatever game you think you’re playing.”

Dean’s certainly wavered. The guy seemed genuinely irritated, and as Dean studied his face, there was no hint of recognition there. No smug little smile that would give away the joke. Either this guy was an Oscar-worthy actor, or Dean had just made a complete ass of himself.

“Wait, so you’re not… Cas?”

“I am Castiel. Or Cas, as some call me,” he confirmed. “But I am certainly not your blind date.”

Dean ran a hand down his face, suddenly feeling like the world’s biggest idiot.

“So you’re not here because my brother set us up?”

“No,” Castiel replied firmly, his annoyance clear in the way his mouth formed a tight line. “I’m here because I wanted to treat myself to a nice dinner after a particularly rough week.” Then, as if the universe were laughing at him, the waitress appeared at their table, her friendly smile faltering slightly as she immediately picked up on the tension.

“Are you gentlemen ready to order, or should I give you a few more minutes?”

“Actually,” Dean began, already pushing his chair back, “there’s been a misunderstanding–”

“Wait,” Castiel said, and he seemed as though he were a little surprised at himself. Something about the embarrassed flush creeping up the stranger’s neck made Dean pause. The waitress slipped away. “I... believe we both may be the victims of circumstance. You were expecting someone named Cas for a blind date, and I happened to be a Cas who was seated at your table. Since you’re already here, you might as well sit back down. No sense in both of us eating alone.”

Dean hesitated, hand still gripping the back of the chair. This wasn’t how this blind date was supposed to go. Then again... Sam would laugh his ass off if Dean came crawling back home with his tail between his legs. The thought of his brother’s smug expression was enough to make Dean sink back into his seat.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” He cleared his throat. “I’m Dean, by the way. Dean Winchester.”

“Castiel Novak,” the man replied, holding his hand out over the table. Dean took it, surprised at the firm grip and rough feeling of calluses on Castiel’s palm. He had expected soft hands from someone who dined alone at a place like this.

The waitress returned with a smile that seemed to touch her eyes this time when she noticed that the awkwardness had dissipated.

“Have you decided what you’d like to order?” she asked, pen and paper at the ready.

“I’ll have the bourbon-glazed steak, medium rare,” Castiel said, closing his menu. Dean cracked open his own menu, eyes going wide at the prices. Oh, he was definitely making Sam pay for this.

“Uh, I’ll have the same.” He doubted this place had any burgers. “And a whiskey would be great.”

When she walked off, Dean drummed his fingers on the table, suddenly struck by a distinct lack of words. Blind dates were usually never awkward for Dean. All he had to do was lay the charm on the gal across from him, and things just went from there. But this? This was uncharted territory. 

“So...” Dean started, “bad week, huh?”

Castiel sighed, and Dean could see the way the weight of the week pushed on Castiel’s shoulders.

“You could say that. I’m a tax accountant, and April 15th is three days away.” Dean grimaced, suddenly remembering that he needed to bother Sam about his taxes for the year.

“Tax day. That’s rough.”

“Especially when people who have known about the filing deadline for years still act surprised when it arrives,” Castiel said dryly. Dean tried not to look guilty at that. “How about you? What do you do when you’re not crashing a stranger’s dinner?”

Dean chuckled, feeling himself relax slightly. Maybe this wouldn’t be as awful as he thought.

“I’m a mechanic. I co-own a garage with my uncle. Not as fancy as number-crunching, but I’m good with my hands.” Dean immediately regretted his choice of words, feeling heat creep up his neck. “With cars, I mean. I’m good with cars.” Castiel’s lips quirked up slightly, the first hint of a smile Dean had seen from him.

“I imagine both skills come in handy.”

Their drinks arrived. A whiskey – neat – for Dean and a red wine for Castiel. He must’ve ordered it before Dean sat down. Dean took a healthy swig of his drink, the familiar burn putting him back into safer territory.

“So this... Sammy,” Castiel said, taking a careful sip of his wine. “Your brother, I assume?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “Little brother that’s not so little. Guy’s a sasquatch. Stanford law and everything.”

“And he often sets you up on blind dates?”

“No,” Dean snorted. “This was a first. I usually do just fine on my own.” He paused, realizing how that sounded, then added, “I mean... not that I’m... well, you know.”

“I don’t actually,” Castiel said, his head tilting slightly. “But I’ll take your word for it.”

There was something disarming about Castiel’s direct gaze. It wasn’t judgemental or mocking, just... interested. Dean wasn’t used to being studied so intently. To someone who seemed to actually hear every word he said. If he was being honest, he wasn’t used to people not swooning. Not that he wanted Cas to swoon. Not that he would mind. That thought dredged up a weird feeling that Dean didn’t feel like grappling in the moment. In fact, he’d be happy if he never had to confront that at all.

Their steaks arrived, perfectly seared and glistening with the bourbon glaze. Dean cut into his, letting out an appreciative sigh at the first bite.

“Damn, that’s good,” he said, momentarily forgetting his manners. “Sam may be a pain in my ass, but at least he picked a decent restaurant.” Castiel nodded in agreement, savoring his own bite with closed eyes.

“I’ve been coming here on particularly difficult days for years. They have a honey cake that I find... comforting.”

“You come to a place like this for comfort food?” Dean asked, making a vague motion to the crystal glasses and linen tablecloths.

“Everyone’s definition of comfort is different,” Castiel replied. “What’s yours?”

Dean’s knife paused mid-cut, and he actually had to stop and think about it for longer than a moment.

“I guess my mom’s apple pie. Nothing fancy, just... home.” Dean hadn’t meant to reveal something so personal to a stranger, but something about Castiel made him easy to talk to. The two of them fell into a surprisingly comfortable silence as they ate. Dean found himself stealing glances at Castiel between bites. The guy was good-looking in an unconventional way. Perpetually rumbled but somehow still put together with that intense stare that seemed to see right through Dean’s usual bravado. It was unnerving. But not in a bad way?

“So, no date tonight for you either?” Dean asked, pushing his empty plate away. Castiel dabbed at his mouth with the cloth napkin.

“No. My social calendar is rather sparse these days. Work takes up most of my time.”

“All work and no play makes Cas a dull boy,” Dean quipped. He mentally facepalmed. “Sorry, that was–”

“Accurate,” Castiel cut in, a self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “My brother Gabriel tells me the same thing. Though he uses considerably more colorful language.”

“Younger?”

“Older, actually. Though you’d be forgiven for thinking otherwise considering his behavior.” Castiel shook his head. “He once filled my office with live ducks because he thought I was ‘quacking’ under pressure.”

Dean just about choked on his drink. Maybe it was Castiel’s dry delivery of the line. Or maybe it was the mental image of Castiel sitting at his desk with ducks waddling around the office. Either way, Dean laughed, deep and genuine.

“No way. Like actual ducks?”

“Twelve of them,” Castiel confirmed, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “It took maintenance three days to repair the damage, and I’m still finding feathers in my filing cabinets.”

“Sounds like our brothers would get along. Sam once filled my car with packing peanuts while I was sleeping. Took me a week to get them all out.”

“And yet you still love him.”

“Well, yeah,” Dean shrugged, trying to come off as unbothered as possible. “Family, right?”

The waitress came by again.

“Can I interest either of you in dessert?” Dean glanced at Castiel expectantly.

“You said something about a honey cake?”

“Yes.” Castiel nodded, his expression brightening.

“Two honey cakes, please,” Dean said, the words surprising himself. He typically didn’t care for cake, but the way that Castiel’s face lit up had Dean curious. Must’ve been pretty good to get a tax guy excited.

When she left, a blanket of awkwardness settled over the table again. The impromptu blind-date-turned-friendly-dinner was coming to a close, and Dean found himself oddly reluctant to let it end. Dean cleared his throat.

“So, your original date. What happened there?” Castiel blinked and tilted his head again.

“I didn’t have one. As I said before, I merely wanted to treat myself to dinner.”

“Right,” Dean nodded, mentally kicking himself. “Sorry, I just assumed. Because it’s Friday night, and this place is...”

“Romantic?” Castiel offered, glancing around at the couples holding hands and the soft lighting designed to flatter features. 

“Yeah.”

“I suppose it is. I never really noticed. What about your date? The real Cas?”

“I dunno,” Dean said with a shrug. “Sam’s the one who was in contact with her.” Dean grimaced, realizing that he hadn’t paid much attention to his surroundings during his meal. Poor gal probably showed up, couldn’t find him, assumed he stood her up, then blown up Sam’s phone. Oops. He actually felt a little bad about that.

The honey cake arrived, and as Castiel’s eyes lit up as he took his first bite, Dean found himself more interested in Castiel’s reaction than trying his own dessert.

“You weren’t kidding about this cake,” Dean said when he finally dug into his own. It was surprisingly good. Not too sweet, and the sliced almonds on top added just the right texture. “This might be the best dessert I’ve ever had. And I’m more of a pie guy, usually.”

“Don’t let Gabriel hear you say that,” Castiel replied with a small smile. “He owns a bakery that specializes in pies. He insists they’re superior to all other desserts.”

“Smart man.” Dean took another bite. “Though I guess I’ll have to make an exception for this cake.”

And just like that, the two of them fell back into a comfortable conversation as they finished their desserts, sharing stories about their brothers and work. Dean found himself laughing more than he had in months, surprised by Castiel’s dry humor that showed up once he relaxed. When the check arrived, Dean instinctively reached for it.

“I’ve got it,” Castiel said, his hand brushing against Dean’s as he also reached for the leather folder.

“No way, man,” Dean insisted, tugging the check closer to him. “This was supposed to be my treat. Well, technically Sam’s treat since he got me into this mess.” Castiel hesitated.

“You’re going to pay for dinner with a stranger who wasn’t even your intended date?”

“Hey, this turned out better than whatever Sam probably had planned.” Dean shot Castiel a grin. “Consider it my apology for crashing your solo dinner.” A beat passed between them before Castiel’s grip on the check loosened, and he relented.

“Very well. But next time, it’s my treat.”

Next time.

The two of them paused as the implication of next time hung between them, heavy but not entirely unwelcomed. Dean tucked Sam’s card into the folder and passed it off to the waitress, doing his best to ignore the strange flutter of something in his chest.

“So,” Dean leaned back in his chair, leg bouncing anxiously. “I’m supposed to report back to Sam about how this all went.” Castiel raised an eyebrow at him.

“Are you planning on telling him about our... misunderstanding?”

“Oh hell yeah,” Dean laughed. “This is too good not to. But I can’t help but wonder what the person I was supposed to meet would’ve been like.”

Castiel’s expression shifted slightly, something unnamable passing across his features before he neatly tucked it away.

“Well, I hope she would’ve been worth your time.”

“Honestly?” Dean shrugged. “I doubt she could’ve made tonight any better.” A hint of color touched Castiel’s cheeks as he glanced down at his empty dessert plate. The waitress returned with the receipt, and Dean signed it with a flourish, making sure to leave a generous tip.

“Thank you for dinner, Dean,” Castiel said, rising from his chair. “It was unexpected. But pleasant.”

“Yeah, same here,” Dean replied, standing as well. The two of them walked toward the exit together, shoulders occasionally brushing in the narrow path between tables. Outside, the night air was cool and crisp, a welcome change from the warmth of the restaurant. The sky was clear, but with all the light pollution from the city, the stars were barely visible. Dean hesitated at the bottom of the restaurant steps.

“Hey, you, uh... got a card?” he asked. “In case I need a tax guy?” he added quickly. Castiel’s expression softened, and he reached into the pocket of his trenchcoat before producing a business card.

“My work number is on here. But you can find my personal cell on the back.” He handed it to Dean, their fingers briefly brushing past each other. Dean took the card and flipped it over to see the neat handwriting. Castiel Novak, CPA. He smiled and tucked it into his own pocket.

“CPA,” Dean repeated. “Sounds official.”

“It is,” Castiel replied, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a half-smile. “I even have a special calculator and everything.” Dean laughed. Another awkward silence.

“So,” Dean finally began, rocking back on his heels. “Guess I should let you get home. Long day and all that.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Castiel looked up at the night sky then back at Dean, a soft, genuine smile gracing his features. He took a half-step back. “Give me a call if you need help with taxes.” A pause. “Or a next time.” And with that, the two parted ways.

Dean slid into Baby’s front seat, still reeling over the evening. What the hell was that? He typed a message to Sam, his leg bouncing as his fingers tapped against the screen.

Sam’s phone pinged. Two notifications.

The first was from his bank, notifying him that his card had been used.

The second, a message from Dean.

Jokes on you. I ain’t paying you shit.

Sam typed a response back, frowning. He had been so confident about this gal.

Damn, and here I thought Cassie’s love for Led Zeppelin would’ve gotten you.

Three dots appeared, signifying that Dean was typing. Then they disappeared. Then they popped up again. Then, a text.

WHO?!

---

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[im-ignoring-canon]

Unhinged Reyna Hcs

Enough of the organised and put together reyna propaganda! She was a praetor by her early teens?? If Will is insane, goddamnit so is she!

• She functions on caffeine. Literally hates any coffee that isn't sweet enough to knock out a horse but will drink it anyway. If it's coffee, she'll have it, even if she's actively grimacing the whole time.

• Excellent poker face but cannot actually win at cards so she cheats. She learnt this from the pirates and only Jason and Gwen have ever caught her doing it.

• Plays the perfect roman leader but at least 50% of the time, her battle strategy is just "wing it with confidence". Somehow, it works.

• MANIC without sufficient sleep. She is visibly buzzing and her accent is getting more pronounced by the second. All the paperwork for the next month is done and several centurions are hovering nearby because when she crashes, it's gonna be lights out in a matter of seconds, no time to even lie down. Yes, she has hit her head before because of this.

• Her ADHD and autistic ass CANNOT handle an overwhelming workload. Manages it with careful balancing and lots of to do lists, but occasionally Thalia will find her sobbing angrily on the kitchen floor at midnight, covered in post its.

• No one knows where she went for like a month when she was fourteen?? No one. She just randomly disappeared and then basically gaslighted everyone by completely ignoring it when she got back. There are conspiracy theories in New Rome about it.

• Do NOT put her and Leo in a room alone for any length of time. Not even bc they would fight, once Reyna eventually gets to trusting Leo, their combined insane genius is a force to be reckoned with. They are making blueprints for a never-before-seen war machine and no one can even stop them bc it's all in Spanish.

• Hates Latin. Actually hates it. It's too similar to Spanish but with enough differences that she accidentally switches to spanish sometimes and it pisses her off.

I have more but this post is already too long lmao so im gonna stop there. Anyway, make Reyna more insane you cowards.

[castiwls]

motel girl

Paring; older!patrick x female!reader

Summary; the last thing you should be doing as a collage student working a shitty motel job was being charmed by the washed up 30 something year old tennis player into giving him a free room - never mind agreeing to join him in said room

warnings; porn with a small plot, age gap (patricks early 30s & reader is early 20s), drinking, orgasm denial, dry humping, thigh riding, biting (kinda?), dirty talk (Patrick says good girl once), fem!reader (sorry) - anything I missed let me know!

Notes; maybe the freakiest thing i've written em kinda scared to post this🥲 also way longer then I intended I was gonna make this a bot but I'm not sure.

Masterlist

"I can get you the money at the end of the week."

You should've realised then and there that he was bad news. If the way he'd suddenly come onto you the minute his card declined wasn't a big enough flag, his ego the size of the sun should have had you kicking him out to the streets.

Yet, somehow, Patrick Zweig had charmed you into giving him a room at a motel you'd rather never be in past your work hours and as a result, you'd found yourself hanging around said motel way after your shift was over.

He was far from the first older man to try and hit on you for whatever they needed. Fresh towels, free food, a free room for the night, the list could go on.

Yet Patrick was the first remotely active man to work his charm on you.

You hated the fact it worked.

"Hey. You finish soon, right?" He leaned over the counter, his eyes staring unshamedly at your chest as you glanced up from the laptop. "You got the money yet?" He grinned, "No," He leaned slightly closer, his grin only growing. "I won my match. Still in the game."

"Shouldn't you be out celebrating?"

"You're the only person I know in this town."

He was bold. You'd give him that. "You don't know me." Patrick hummed, considering for a moment. "I know your name...and I know you get off soon."

Patrick watched his amusement only growing at the sight of your annoyance. Fuck Art and Tashi. Fuck the challenger, you were way more intresting.

"You have no money-"

"I have enough to make it worth your time."

------

You shouldn't be here.

You should have known it was a bad idea to go to the washed up tennis players motel room at 12am when you should have been anywhere else.

Forget the fact he must have been in his 30s at least and you had a collage class on Monday morning, you should have known there was no way this could end well.

The beer had helped. You'd at least managed to relax enough to spread out on the old bed while he watched from the floor, his eyes following your every movement like you were some sort of partictiarlly interesting bug he'd spotted.

"So you just spend your time playing? Doesn't it get boring?" You'd shifted, your head lying at the bottom of the bed as you watched him nurse his first beer.

"Pretty much." He nodded his face pinching slightly. "Its not boring-"

"You hit a ball with a racket."

Patrick huffed. "There's more to it then that." He trailed off staring at the wall as his fingers tapped agsint the old carpet. "If you play it with someone you know its more..."

Your lips pursed, noting the shift in atmosphere. "Oh..."

He nodded before it was like a switch flicked, and his lips pulled back into a grin. "You should come watch. Maybe you'll see it's more than just hitting a ball." You smiled slightly at the offer. "You're inviting me to watch?"

He nodded, taking a sip. "Why not? You got anything better to do? A boyfriend?" His lips curled at the face you pulled. He laughed as you shook your head, just a bit too quickly.

"No? No boyfriend or no watching?"

"No-No boyfriend." You mumbled, cringing slightly at the egurness in your voice. "-but sure. I'm not working on the day I'll come."

He smiled then, a proper one, and you felt your heart skip almost. Fuck this.

You both fell quiet, you still watching as he stood, stretching before placing the can on the dresser and approaching. Your breath caught as he was suddenly looming over you, his body being the only thing in your vision.

"I should...I should go." You swallowed, shifting to sit. As you turned, he moved with you, stepping into the space between your legs as they hit the ground. "Wait a minute-" His fingers, rough and calloused, brushed over your cheek, pausing over your lower lip for a minute.

You could feel your palms begin to sweat as you fisted a hand into the sheet. Neither of you said a word, his thumb pushing against your lip lightly.

The room seemed eerily quiet as his eyes searched your face for any hint of displeasure. Patrick's eyes met yours in a silent question.

'Do you want this to?'

The slightest movement of your head, and his lips were crashing into yours, his hand slipping to cup your jaw, the kiss messy and unpracticed. It was pure need as you pressed closer your own hand fisting in his hair pulling a quiet noise from his throat.

Your own lips parted in surprise when his teeth nipped at your lip. He deepened the kiss, pressing a knee to the bed as his other hand cupped the back of your neck, almost like he was scared you'd disappear.

Patrick pressed forward, the two of you moving in sync as you shifted back onto your knees, allowing him the space to climb onto the bed. You gasped when he pulled back, air suddenly filling your lungs as his lips pressed to your cheek before moving down to your neck.

"Off," He murmured against the skin of your neck, tugging at your top. He pulled back just enough for you to throw your top somewhere before he was tugging you into his lap, his teeth nipping at the skin of your chest.

You could hardly hold back the gasp which tumbled from your throat at the feel of his lips on your skin, his hips slowly beginning to rock up against yours as you felt him harden in the confines of his jeans.

Your hands were clumsy as you tugged at the button of his jeans. "No. Not yet." One of Patrick's hands closed over yours, guiding them away and behind your back.

He held them there for a moment, grinning at your whine. "Already so needy-" His teeth bit down against the skin of your neck before he pulled away, his eyes blown with hunger. "-so perfect." His free hand unhooked your bra with surprising efficiency, letting your hands go for just enough to tug it down and away before he was flipping you both over.

"Patrick," His name fell from your lips as he pressed your hands to the pillow, his eyes dark as he hummed. "I said I'd make it worth your time-" His lips met yours again, the kiss hungrier this time.

He was like a man starved, your teeth clashing as he pressed your hands further into the pillow. "-Let. me." He barely pulled back long enough to get the words out before he was kissing you breathless again, his knee pressing between your legs as your hips rolled on instinct.

You gasped, pleasure running through you at the sudden friction. Your hips rolled again, a whimper leaving you as he pulled back his lips pressing to your jaw once more before he pulled back to watch you properly.

His knee pressed up more, amusement flashing in his eyes at the way your cheeks heated as a quiet moan left your lips. "Good?" He questioned as you nodded your head.

"Ah. Use your words."

He was going to be the death of you. White hot pleasure ran through you at his tone, your eyes widening as another moan fell from your lips. "S'good. So good - Patrick-" He hummed in satisfaction, his hand letting go of your wrists to brace himself on the bed as his head dipped down.

"Good girl."

He barely gave you a second to breathe before his tongue was tracing around one of your nipples, the feeling combined with the friction between your legs short-circuiting your brain for a moment.

If you'd been in a clearer head space, you'd have been embarrassed by the sound that left your lips, but you were past caring. You whimpered when his teeth grazed the peak before he moved onto the other side, giving equal attention.

"Patrick, I-" Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt your pleasure slowly reach that peak. The feel of his lips combined with the friction between your legs pushes you closer and closer to that mind-bending edge.

It was so close you could almost taste it, his name falling from your lips between whimpers and moans. Your eyes squeezed shut, your back arching - one more second and-

"Wha-" Your eyes shot open when his leg disappeared, his face coming back into view with a wide grin.

That fucker.

His lips pressed to yours again, silencing your complaints as you felt him smile. "You're cruel." He laughed, his fingers brushing away the hair stuck to your forehead.

"Why?"

"I gotta make sure you come to that match somehow?" Patrick shifted, his fingers tracing over a mark on your neck. "You come and I win again tomorrow," His fingers drifted down your neck to gently tip your chin up to meet his eyes.

"I'll give you whatever you want."

He knew he had you. He'd given you a taste of what he could do. Just enough to make you stick around.

You prayed he won that stupid match.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

It's accidentally been 3 months since I posted my last fic round up, so this post contains months worth of reading and so is much longer than normal. If you're curious, this round up includes the following fandoms (in this order):

ATLA

DC (Batman) & Danny Phantom Crossover

DC (Batman)

Star Wars (Prequels)

The Goblin Emperor

The Sunshine Court (AFTG series)

James Bond

Marvel (Spider-Man)

Red, White & Blue

Stranger Things

King Falls AM (Podcast)

ATLA

Academic Excerpts and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Studied by Scholars Who Make It Their Full Time Job by Vinces

Zuko and Aang conspired early to keep the Firelord’s identity as the Blue Spirit a secret. Zuko unmasked would only make his spot on the Dragon Throne more tenuous during a time of upheaval in the post-war Fire Nation.

Nevertheless, the post-war academics are on it. Who was the Blue Spirit?

Aang and Zuko try their best to play it cool.

Aang’s pretty successful…

Zuko? Well, he’s trying his best. -- Or where two-thirds of the story is historical “articles” set in and referencing the world of Avatar and one third is Zuko (and Aang) navigating a world where there are academic papers speculating about the prison breakout they did together.

In Utter Hones-tea by agooseinhiding

The Jasmine Dragon has been formally invited to join the Earth King's retinue as he takes the monumental first step onto Fire Nation soil since the start of the Hundred-Year War! Truly, an honor.

Unfortunately, "The Jasmine Dragon" includes Li, the owner's grumpy nephew with an outrageously bad haircut and a wardrobe that's solely green, who knows way too much about the Avatar and his teachers, and who swears on his honor that he's totally, definitely not the Fire Lord.

Somehow, the other tea servers don't believe him. But they've never gotten a chance to prove it (or disprove it, in some cases) until now.

The Jasmine Dragon is going to the Fire Nation, and Hua Ming is going to show once and for all that shop-famous enigma Li is Lord Zuko himself, or she's going to die trying.

(She is going to die on this trip.)

Ft.: General Iroh playing the biggest prank in Fire Nation history, a five thousand yuan bet, and the Jasmine Dragon tea servers.

Taking a Break (In) by Duckduck_Scribblerswan (Caellie_E_and_Vaye_R)

Part 1 of a little bit of monicker in my life (Zuko has too many secret identi-teas)

After a few agonizingly slow seconds of exhausted, confused pondering, Zuko decided there was only one logical conclusion. “You’re right," he told the assassins, "I’m here to help you kill the Fire Lord.” Like a genius.

Caldera City is holding a festival to celebrate finally having enough funds to hold a festival! Although Zuko originally deemed himself too busy to go, Sokka managed to cajol him into attending his own party, in a knock-off Blue Spirit disguise for security purposes. Zuko sneaks back into the palace right in time to catch a group of assassins sneaking out. They failed to find the Fire Lord and assume he's reinforcements.

Zuko needs to find who ordered a strike on him before they do something stupid, like order a second one. Obviously, the most reasonable thing to do is join the assassins and hope they don’t figure out who he actually is. Obviously. There’s literally no other option.

Feat. Zuko's only two coping mechanisms (mortal peril and improv theater), the world's most incompetent hit team, and another knock-off Blue Spirit who's determined to prove this "Li" isn't who he says he is.

Kindred Spirits (sent from my iphone) by Duckduck_Scribblerswan (Caellie_E_and_Vaye_R)

Part 2 of a little bit of monicker in my life (Zuko has too many secret identi-teas)

Zuko just wanted to take a breather after a stressful political summit in the Earth Kingdom. Unfortunately, some passerby with good eyesight spotted him entering an apartment through the door as Li and leaving through the window as the Blue Spirit, right before he left for the Fire Nation. The Earth Kingdom puts two and two together and, appropriately, gets four: the Blue Spirit has kidnapped Li, and presumably the other Fire Nation refugees who have been disappearing across Ba Sing Se. They must save Li and bring the Blue Spirit to justice!

Unwilling to reveal himself as either the Blue Spirit, wanted in both the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom for treason and petty larceny, or Li, who'll draw attention to his uncle's teahouse, Zuko does the next most reasonable thing: he panics.

Meanwhile, Mai, Suki, and Toph are busy investigating who's really at fault for the disappearances of these refugees, King Kuei has realized he can get away with some truly ridiculous antics as king, and the newspapers are getting suspicious of how protective Fire Lord Zuko is of these two random people he apparently picked up in Ba Sing Se. What's up with that, anyway?

Relieved, with honors by redrobin1989

A Fire Lord’s duty is to his people; Zuko seeks out the last Fire Nation soldiers of the Hundred Year War to send them home.

ASYLUM by asfearlessasamango 

If Zuko was Azula, trapped in a golden palace with no family but Fire Lord Ozai for years. If Zuko was Azula, now trapped in a marble asylum with no way out that he can see. If Sokka visited. And the complications of a whole world followed.

DC/ Danny Phantom Crossover

Wanted: Dead and Alive by Astereae

“Hey, I do I... Do I know you?” Danny asks, a hand coming up to brush something off Tim’s cheek. “No,” Tim says. “We haven’t met.” “Oh, no, I do.” Danny says, and he smiles, teeth white and sharp. “You’re that guy who rearranged my guts!” Rearranged his- Tim glances at the knotted scars on the boy’s abdomen. He can see the shine and shadow of haphazard stitches that weren’t meant to hold forever, that tore and healed over. His- This- “WHAT!?” Nightwing shouts, equal parts confused and delighted. Tim’s fucked.

OR: Danny Fenton's been in GIW captivity for 4 months.

Tim Drake gets kidnapped by the GIW one Tuesday evening in May.

Considering how many of the Bats and the Birds have died and come back to life, it was only a matter of time for some people interested in the afterlife to come poking around. The detectives can't seem to uncover any information about the mysterious white vans, however.

And they keep losing the mysterious boy who seems to be the one person in Gotham to know anything at all.

DC

it's a long climb up the dusty mountain by whitegeraniums (puertoricansuperman) 

"The mission went," Dick echoes, a faint smile on his face. He's still in Bruce's arms, though he could easily escape if he wanted to. Something warm kindles deep, deep in Bruce's chest. Then he thinks of the other Dick, tense as a wire in his arms, shuddering at his touch.

"He had children." He says it without thinking. Dick's expression darkens. He knows where Bruce went tonight, and Bruce watches him piece together the implications of alternate dimension and evil Batman and children.

Or: When you've hit rock bottom, the only place left to go is up.

Star Wars

Misunderstanding Master by bgyeetusthefetus

“A beer please,” Obi-Wan said, his voice barely rising above the din. He placed the credits on the bar, his fingers shaking slightly as he did so./

The bartender looked down at him with a frown, his brows furrowing as he took in Obi-Wan's thin frame. “How old are you, kid?”

Obi-Wan shifted uneasily, suddenly aware of the attention he was drawing from the patrons around him. “It’s not for me,” he replied quickly, his voice steady despite the tremor in his fingers. “I’m just fetching it for my Master.”

Master is a bit of a loaded word in the wider galaxy.

The Goblin Emperor

Date With The Night by DontStopHerNow

Csethiro and Csevet conspire to give Maia a night outside the Alcethmeret.

Unfortunately, when Beshelar finds out, they have a lot of explaining to do.

queen of peace by astardanced

Csethiro broke abruptly free of the pack and came sweeping towards him with hands outstretched, probably hoping to do damage control.

“Serenity,” she said, ignoring her father, who seemed to be wanting to prompt her like a conductor. “We are honoured to have you here.”

Maia had very little experience with the specific social mortifications of an embarrassing family— his own having simply chosen to forget he existed— and it wouldn’t have been fair to make a judgement, but there was already an undeniable tinge of the ridiculous to the entire affair.

(Awkward dinners are part and parcel of the Emperor's role... but the Ceredada really are spectacularly embarrassing.)

The Sunshine Court (AFTG series)

i'm not the same as i was by perchancetosleep

The imminent return to Evermore has him jumping at shadows, and he is already at the end of his rope. Every ounce of energy every single day goes to pretending to be what is required of him—he has to override years of training (away, not towards) to perform adequately on the court, to uphold the Trojan standard, and he has to pretend that while he does it he is a functioning human and not simply a discarded toy too broken to be played with anymore.

It’s why he spent his time in Palmetto when he could walk watching every single Trojans interview and game he could, so he could memorize their speeches and their strategies and their game play so that he would not be a burden. Jean knows what he owes his new masters. And he will not fail.

(Or, Jean tries to fake it until he makes it at USC)

oh i was raised on little light by perchancetosleep

On the third Thursday of every month, Jean walks seven miles across town to visit his sister.

This is the deal that he’s struck with his sister’s foster—no, adoptive now—family. They used to claim that he could visit whenever he wanted, and it used to be Jean’s ability to sneak out of the Moriyama’s home that limited the frequency, but of course the Master had figured out where he was going, and now for years they’ve had him in their ear, telling them how Jean is unstable and disruptive and getting into fights and doing drugs, and of course they don’t want Elodie around that. She’s had a hard enough life as it is, and her good-for-nothing brother is just going to bring trouble and pain. But that won’t stop Jean from showing up, and so this is the deal that he had to make.

Jean will take whatever time he can get.

please i've been on my knees, change the prophecy by perchancetosleep

He can almost pretend, sitting in a warm house at the tiny kitchen table listening to Elodie talk about her dance lessons, that everything is normal. He can pretend that he can stay, that Elodie and him were never separated, and that everything is normal and he is good and he will get to keep this. But Jean had died in that fucking basement years ago, and he’s getting tired of forcing his body to keep going. Sure, Kevin had found a way out and made it to college and made a life, but he had a father waiting for him on the outside.

All Jean has waiting for him at home is a set of guardians that are going to be pissed off that he’s failing chemistry and that he didn’t do his chores and that he’s alive.

James Bond

Begin Again by Snoweylily

M held out the file in her hand and Q automatically took it. “It needs the new Quartermaster’s signature”. The reminder of the Major’s death, the kindly old beta who saw him for him, brought tears to his eyes, and he desperately hoped that the smoke would hide it. “... Okay. Who do I give it to?” “It’s quite a few years ahead of schedule, and quite frankly I’m not even sure if it’s going to work, but Boothroyd always spoke highly of you and you are one of the very few TSS workers still remaining. I’ve spoken to R, the only survivor with seniority over you, and she is quite adamant to remain in her current position with your approval... Which leaves you”. M held out a pen. “Quartermaster”.

Or, “I don’t just have one alpha”. Q grinned, bloody and feral. “I have nine. They’re called the double-0 program; perhaps you’ve heard of them?”

Red, White & Blue

darling, be gentle by SkyGem

In the time that he’s been dating Henry, Alex has been on the receiving end of no less than four shovel talks.

Or.

Okay.

That number may vary, depending on what exactly counts as a shovel talk.

Marvel

Intentions by MellarkandArt

“You’re just- you’re a really great kid and-“

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whispered, suddenly feeling very, very sick.

“Mhm?” Mr. Stark hummed, patting his knee.

“I- I don’t think I can do this. I’ve tried really hard to m-make myself want it, b-but I just don’t. I know you- but I can’t. I just can’t.”

Mr. Stark removed his hand and looked at Peter questioningly. “What are you talking about?”

Peter drew in a shaky breath, feeling the burn as tears fell down his cheeks. “I know you want me to be your- your- I don’t know, but I just can’t be that for someone again, it’s so- so much, and you’re married, you have a daughter, and it’s- I’m sorry. It’s just, it’s too- and I don’t even like you like that, I- I’m sorry.”

Now he’d done it, now Mr. Stark would be looking at him with a heartbroken expression, hurt and betrayed and…

Peter looked up at the man only to see nothing but shock and confusion on his features.

“Peter… Do you think that I have… romantic feelings for you?”

OR: Sometimes people’s intentions aren’t always clear, and Peter has been burnt often enough to know not to play with fire. Irondad, NOT ST*RKER, I promise!!

Stranger Things

Shovel Talks by unkreativstermensch (+ podfic)

“Oh,” Steve says. Then again, “oh,” a little quieter. His expression changes; from confusion to something pained almost. “Mr Munson, I don’t…” he takes a deep breath, his voice a little shaky as he continues. “I don’t think he…I don’t think he likes me like that.”

He doesn’t say “it’s not like that.” Neither does he say “I’m not like that.”

That’s the first thing Wayne notices.

or: Wayne decides to give Steve the shovel talk, only to realize he might not be the one needing one

King Falls AM

i can tell that we are gonna be friends by ace8013, flashsideways 

Part 1 of when the radio lights came on (This entire series would be on this round up if it wasn't so damn long)

“I’m graduating this week and I know this is weird and that I met you like a few days ago but… They like, give you tickets? And I don’t know who to invite.” Sammy blinks. “Oh,” he says. “Is this- are you inviting me to your high-school graduation?”

or, Ben graduates from college on May 13, 2015.

to a given standard of normal by neversaydie

Part 5 of cock it and pull it (This series too!!)

The first couple of weeks are… difficult.

Some things are the same. The Jack Sammy remembers sitting across the desk from him in their dingy college radio studio, rambling about the possibility that the math building was haunted; the guy who pushed him into any risky broom closet or empty office he could find to make out, because he was always an adrenaline junkie even if it gave Sammy a heart attack; the Jack who roasted Sammy for his dad jokes even though his were quantifiably worse - he's still there. Mostly intact.

Other things… other things have changed.

[Jack and Sammy start building a life after the void]

the only hoax i believe in by taizi 

“Sammy,” Ben says. “You gotta eat.”

Sammy opens his eyes. He isn’t hungry, but he pushes himself upright anyway. 

“You better not have tried cooking again,” he says, aiming for light-hearted, angling for a smile. 

He nails it. Ben’s eyes go bright and he scoots off the bed with a grin. Not so much fooled as willing to play along, grateful for the semblance of normalcy. 

Fake it till you break it, Sammy thinks with the same grim determination that got him through all of high school, and all of college, and every second of every miserable day without Jack and before Ben. 

He gets out of bed. 

Wish You All The Best by FoxGlade

“This is gonna sound like a stupid question,” Ben says suddenly, “but what year is it?”

Well, Ben has said stupider things. “2018,” Sammy answers. Ben looks to Jack, who looks to Emily, who narrows her mouth into a thin line.

“That’s… maybe a problem,” she says.

(The Christmas magic of King Falls strikes again, giving Sammy a firsthand account of his own future.)

for a higher love by helloearthlings (everything this author writes would also be in this round up if I could)

“Supreme Court legalized same sex marriage this morning, 5-4.”

Ron could tell in an instant that Sammy already knew; something about him crumpled when Ron said it out loud.

God, the guy was – sad about this? Ron’s quiet suspicion about which way Sammy swung was absolutely confirmed – the straight and narrow of King Falls might be all woe is me over the fact that they didn’t have a monopoly on marriage anymore, but no one looked this wrecked if the decision didn’t affect them personally. The question was why this had put Sammy in some sort of drunken stupor.

[Ron, Sammy, and Pride in King Falls.]

[incognito-lionbeast]

Time travel fix-it fic, but past!SQQ & present!SQQ swap places in the timeline (inevitably causing the timeline to split, dw about it).

Present day, post-marriage Shen Qingqiu "wakes up" in his past SQQ-self's body right at the moment of he & Luo Binghe's reunion in Jin Lan. Naturally, he assumes that this must be another dream-world reenactment. After all, it wouldn't be the first time. Though this memory isn't exactly a fond one. So, he ignores the Huan Hua disciples. Even if this Binghe can't really see him, even if it's a dream, suppose... Shen Qingqiu does what he wishes he'd done then. He steps forward to reach out and hold his heartbroken disciple. Apologise.

Binghe is solid.

Which means that it's the real Luo Binghe. Or at least that's how it worked before. This doesn't keep him from his task, but he does wonder if this is some sort of... role-play? Historical revisionism? But he's going to get a good grade in role-playing, because surely this is still a dream. Time travel doesn't exist and it frankly hasn't occurred to him as an option yet.

It will. Eventually. But not until he's successfully coaxed Luo Binghe into ditching the post-sower-roundup meeting to run away with him back to Qing Jing. He's not interested in reliving that part of this memory, thanks. And without the guest of honour, accusations have to wait (OPM is furious).

It occurs to Shen Qingqiu because he doesn't wake up; he dreams within his "dream" and, happy as he seems to be, Luo Binghe never stops role-playing. Shen Qingqiu has been doing everything in his power to dote on his disciple, but Luo Binghe doesn't beg to sleep in the same bed. Or cry at him. Or cave in the face of his insatiable libido, soliciting sex from him when presented with any reasonably flat surface.

But if he's in the past, then what?? Would it be taking advantage of his disciple to reciprocate his feelings now??? Did that count as cheating???? But what if he can't return to the present? Was he supposed to keep a light on for some future version of his husband that might not exist anymore?! All the while, Shen Qingqiu discovers rather quickly how difficult it is to sleep on his own all the time...

Though ultimately present!SQQ's stay in the past is rather short-lived. Long enough to apologise, take Binghe home, angst over the possibility of erasing his own future, and accidentally call his disciple "husband" once or twice. A few months, maybe more. He leaves Luo Binghe with something to think about-- and rejoins his husband impoverished from the distinct lack of fooling around and canoodling the past had to offer him.

--

While his future self is in the past, past!SQQ... well, he wakes up laying next to Luo Binghe. The man he'd been so sure hated him with his entire being and wanted him dead. In fact, he rather doesn't remember falling asleep. Or being in a room that looks suspiciously like his own on Qing Jing. As he debates how to extract himself from this... situation... Luo Binghe wakes up, surprised to see that his Shizun managed to beat him to it.

--and he's positively radiant, soft and glowing with affection. Before Shen Qingqiu can move or make a sound, Luo Binghe pounces, pins him to the bed--this is how he dies, goodbye!--pecking kisses down his face like it's the most normal thing in the world. Shen Qingqiu is so thrown off by this that he nearly misses when Luo Binghe, fully enabled by a good night's sleep and [ahem] certain nightly activities, calls him his wife.

But a near miss is still a hit. He'd like to look down at his body to make sure he hasn't somehow transmigrated a second time into a lovely young maiden, but someone is heavy. And laying on him. And hard. How could he be hard this early in the day?! Of course Luo Binghe is a stallion protagonist with a dick capable of cleaving the heavens, but a creeping pain in his backside told Shen Qingqiu that they-- they... they'd already done that. At least once.

Yet, how thin Shen Qingqiu's face must be that a murmured "Shizun?" brings him back to reality instantly. The reality that he isn't some fair damsel who's given her up her virtue; he's no Liu Mingyan. He's not even Ning Yingying. He's still himself.

And that's a lot to take in at once.

Whatever happened, however he got here (though he's determined to find out)... he is Luo Binghe's favoured wife. Seemingly. What is he supposed to do?! Play along? With someone who may or may not just be toying with him? But what else can he do? Gazing into the face of his "husband" all Shen Qingqiu can readily make out is love and concern, and though fear twists a knife in his stomach--

The only thing he can know for sure is how much he doesn't know, he decides. It would be rash to make any sudden judgments.... and he can't stand--he really can't!--how Luo Binghe deflates and wheedles and cries when he tries to push him off or hide.

It's through careful inquiry over the course of his stay that the Shen Qingqiu of the past realises where he is. Or, perhaps better-put, when he is. Though like his contemporary, he is returned to his own time within a matter of months--a time now splintered off from the version of the future he'd been sent to. Interfering with the past tends to do that.

And now he has to deal with the knowledge that Luo Binghe was-- is? Always will be. Totally in love with him. Not to mention everything else that has yet to transpire.

[mythicmanuscripts]

ok listen I’m gonna need more sensitive sub!jace. Like right now. Immediately. I am just in awe I love this concept so much. can you maybe discuss how the first time having actual sex would go? I feel like maybe it’s something Jace would try to warn you about again before you have sex?

I am so glad we are gaining more members of the sensitive!jace agenda!!!

NSFW sub!jace under the cut :))

So for any lads who missed my last Jace post: I wrote about Jace cumming from grinding against your thigh before the wedding. He cums in his clothes and then almost instantly he’s so sensitive and overwhelmed because the fabric touching his cock is too much. You have to help him walk to the bed and gently take his pants off for him while he whines and shakes. He’s too sensitive to even clean himself yet. When you return from putting his clothes away he’s crying, getting hit hard by the endorphin drop he always experiences after he cums. You climb into bed with him, holding him tight until he drifts off to sleep and then sneak back into your own room so no one finds out.

After that incident, I think Jace would start to avoid you actually? Cause yeah you helped him, but he thinks that’s just because you’re a good person. He’s convinced that if he does come face to face with you, you’ll call off the wedding or call him pathetic or demand he tells his mother to marry him to another.

And he doesn’t want that!! He really really doesn’t. Cause as much as he was overwhelmed and sensitive, it still felt so good in the moment and honestly, he really loved having you take care of him? Once you pulled him into your arms, he stopped feeling so shaky and scared and he fell asleep so easily.

He would love to have that again, to have that every night in fact but he’s so certain you’re disgusted with him now.

So in all honesty he’s a little shocked when you actually arrive to the wedding and play your part and kiss him when it’s over. You keep a hold of his hand the entire evening, because you fear if you let go then he’ll disappear again. You had wanted to give him enough space to come back to you on his own time, but he’s ran out of time now, you’re married now.

The two of you retire to your new shared living quarters early, and poor side is flustered and nervous from the moment the door closes behind you two.

You ask him what happened, ask him if you somehow made him uncomfortable and he immediately assures you that you didn’t. You ask why he hasn’t spoken to you after that night then, and that’s when he says that he thought you wouldn’t want to be with him anymore.

When you tell him that you loved every second of it, including caring for him. You say that you’re his wife now, and it’s your job to keep those parts of him protected and safe. You would be honoured to have that privilege.

Which… poor Jace doesn’t even know what to say to that so he just kisses you and clings to you because the knowledge that his wife actually wants that side of him is too much for him. Brain off, no more Jace, only pretty wife.

Things get heated, because of course they do and pretty soon Jace pulls away and warns you. He’s panting hard and blushing even harder and stumbling over his words as he tries to explain that he always get that’s sensitive after he finishes and he always feels that sadness afterwards and that he thinks it might be even worse than normal for his first time actually having sex.

In that moment you promise yourself that you will always protect him. This soft, sweet side of him must be kept safe always.

Because Jace is well, Jace, he of course wants to please you. He wants you to feel good too!! Of course he does.

But he has no idea how because honestly he doubts he’ll manage to last long enough for that and he certainly can’t give you anything after he cums.

You tentatively suggest oral sex and Jace’s eyes just light up. Instantly he’s so so on board. A way to make you feel good with no risk of him cumming too soon and ruining the ensure mood? Incredible.

You have to direct him of course.

At first you say you can lay on the bed and Jace can lay on his tummy been your legs, but then Jace blushes even harder and looks away and eventually mumbles, “The… the linen against me might be too much…”

Which… yeah it’s official you’d die for him.

You end up sitting on the comfortable armchair that faces the bed while Jace kneels in front of you. He follows your every instruction and honestly he has the time of his life. This is genuinely better than actually cumming for him. He’s utterly obsessed. He can hear you moan and say his name and tell him how well he’s doing and he’s truly on cloud 9. He would like to never leave the space between your thighs ever again. He’s just gonna camp out here from now on.

The poor thing actually whines and protests when you pull him away. He’s already given you two orgasms but he’s not done!!! He wants more!! Jace would never be greedy about his own pleasure, but this? He’s an absolute glutton about this.

You have to pull him by his hair and tell him that you’re getting too sensitive. He understands of course and would never disobey you, but he does make it very clear that he wishes to do more.

Then the actual sex happens. Jace is, of course, rock hard when you remove his clothes. He’s been hard ever since you suggested he eat you out but honestly he hadn’t even noticed, he was too absorbed in making you feel good.

Trying to work out the right position takes a moment, because as much as you would love to ride the fuck out of him, you’re uncertain if it’s the best because you’d be sitting directly on his cock after he cums and that might be too much for in.

So you suggest missionary, because Jace can easily pull out whenever. When you explain this line of thought, Jace kinda just lets out a broken sob and kisses you again. He can’t believe how lucky he is.

And god, watching his face when he enters you? You’ll never be the same again.

His face scrunches up for a moment and then slackens as he tries to take some steady breaths. He sheaths himself fully in you, and then kinda just stays there for a moment and tries not to immediately lose it.

You direct his head towards you and kiss him softly until he’s ready to move.

And he’s so slow with it? Honestly you don’t even try to get him to speed up because the view you’re getting is insane. Pretty soon he’s shaking and crying and mumbling that he’s close.

You haven’t cum yet, but you didn’t expect to. He made you cum twice earlier, and now all you really want is to see him fall apart. He whines and shakes his head when he hears this, because he doesn’t like the idea of you not cumming again but at the same time the poor thing can barely hold himself together.

In the end, you pull his head down, kiss his neck and then whisper that he can eat his own cum out of you once he’s done.

And well, he’s done. Absolutely no way he could fight it after hearing that. He gasps out a sound that is similar to your name and buries himself fully on you. You can feel the little bucks of his hips as he empties himself and then just prompt collapses.

You kiss his cheeks, telling him he was perfect and then telling him to quickly pull out before he gets too sensitive. Of course he’s already too sensitive, but he manages to quickly pull out and collapse next to you. He slowly rolls onto his back and pants, looking at you with nothing but love and adoration as tries to calm down again.

You brush his hair off his forehead, his entire body is covered in a slight sheen of sweat and his thighs are still shaking a little. You end up sitting up against the headboard and gently pulling him into your lap. His head rests on your lap and he just breathes for a little bit, pressing kisses to your tummy every now and then and eventually lifting his hand up to show you that he wants you to hold it.

When he’s clearly starting to recover a little more, you start talking.

“That feel good?” You ask him, your voice light and loving. Of course you already know the answer, but you just want to give him some sweet loving teasing as he slowly comes back.

He hums in response and presses more kisses to your tummy.

You see tears start to form in his eyes and you quickly wipe them away as they fall, telling him that you couldn’t be happier with how he performed. He was absolutely perfect for you.

He actually manages to feel a lot better a lot quicker which he really didn’t expect. But he supposes it makes sense, he’s not on his own as his endorphins drop, he’s practically being petted.

You just about think he’s fallen asleep when he opens his eyes again and gives you a lazy smile.

“Can I do it now?” He asks, smiling.

“Do what?” You ask.

“You said I could go down on you again. Can I do it now? Please?” You chuckle, because you honestly didn’t expect him to even remember that.

“Please?” He whines again, pouting when you don’t respond immediately. What you realise then is that while Jace will get all sad and weepy and uncomfortable when left on his own after he cums, when you’re there to help him he kinda just turns into a softer, needier version of himself?

And well, there’s certainly no need to deny him.

[thesassypadawan]

Birthday Boy (Hayden x FemReader)

Summary: It’s your man’s birthday! A day filled with all the love, presents, and…special ‘treats’.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. Birthday head and, as always… Hayden’s big, fat dick.

Notes: Happy Birthday, Hay! 💙🤍

And also Happy Hayden's (And Mine) Birthday Event! In honor of the man, the myth, the legend; I will be posting nothing but Anakin, Vader, and Hay stories all April long!

- It’s Hayden’s birthday! One of the few days during the year when you can spoil him totally rotten…and he can’t object or complain.

- You always make it into a big deal. Showering him with love and affection. Making his fav foods. Getting him so many thoughtful presents. Planning all sorts of little surprises and special ‘treats’…that you just so happen to enjoy too.

- The sound of your alarm fills the air, and your arm flies out from underneath the covers. Hand fumbling for your phone, trying to silence it before a moose starts to stir.

- Luckily, you’re successful and no harm was done. Because you can hear the soft snores echoing out from behind you.

- Yawning, you try to blink yourself awake. You had set it with the intention of getting up early enough to prepare him breakfast in bed. But having that deliciously warm body pressed up against and those strong arms wrapped around you…

- A sleepy smile spreads across your face and your eyes begin to close. Until you feel a very hard, very familiar something poke your backside. And suddenly you’re no longer going with the original plan. Instead you’re opting for the new, amazing one you just thought up.

- Somehow you not only manage to untangle yourself from Hay, but you’re also able to get him to lay on his back. From there you make quick work of removing the sheets and pulling down his sleep pants. Cock springing free and standing proud.

- Positioning yourself between his toned legs, lips hovering barely a few inches above his dick. You pause a moment, making sure he’s still asleep by whispering… “Oi, Big Dork; Leafs suck.”

- Nothing. Not an angry grumble or eyes cracking open to glare at you. Nothing.

- Boldly you kitten lick his fat tip, happily lapping up that first salty bead of pre. Before popping it into your mouth, rolling your tongue around and sucking gently. Teasing at and playing with his slit until more of that bittersweet goodness explodes across your taste buds.

- Moaning softly, the vibrations cause Hayden to shift a bit. But you chose to ignore this, taking more of him in. That slight, pleasant ache in your jaw making you pant through your nose, your own arousal spiking. Cunt clenching around nothing, dripping…soaking through your panties.

- Bobbing your head up and down, you set a steady pace. Lips and hand wrapped tightly around his impressive length, adding more friction as you pump. Teeth nipping and grazing at him lightly.

- You’re so caught up that you don’t hear the low groan, but you certainly feel the big hand coming to rest on the back of your head. Those long fingers lacing through your hair, tugging.

- With his cock still nice and warm in your mouth, you not so innocently gaze up at him. Hay’s blue eyes are blown so wide, a lazy smile on his face. “Happy Birthday to me,” he chuckles, voice raspy from sleep.

- Humming, you swallow him greedily. Head brushing and hitting the back of your throat. Trying your best to not choke, fighting the urge not to gag.

- “That’s it,” he grunts. Pulling harder, hips starting to slowly buck. “Keep Going.”

- Driven by his words and that wonderful burn on your scalp, you double your efforts. Picking up speed, you match his rhythm. Baring down, letting him slide deeper with each thrust. Squeezing and playing with his heavy balls.

- First you feel his dick twitch, then his thighs begin to tremble, and…

- Growling, Hayden shot his hot cum down your throat. Curses falling from his lips while you hungrily drink every last drop.

- Releasing him with a wet sounding pop, you eagerly crawl on top of and straddle him. “Happy Birthday, Hay!” You giggle, grinning and wiggling like crazy…some of his ‘frosting’ trickling down your chin. “Today it’s all about you and-”

- A squeak escapes you as your suddenly flipped over. Back pressed against the mattress, caged in by his arms. Tip pushing at your drenched core.

- “Thanks for the gift, angel,” the birthday boy smirks, hand slowly trailing down your hip. “I’ll open it right now.” And with one quick movement, tares off your panties.

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen

[steddieas-shegoes]

i'm into normal dudes and women with blue hair

HAPPY DRAGON APPRECIATION DAY! Honestly, this is 100% a joke. But in a still sort of serious way. I wrote this literally today between work things and hockey things and life things, but I needed to post it today so it isn't edited and honestly it is very rushed. But it's fun! It's meant to be silly and goofy! This is for the girl with the dragon au herself, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation . Eddie would do everything in his power to fuck a dragon, especially if it's Steve, and I think you will agree with me on that. I hope this makes you laugh a little bit 💖 - Mickala

rated m | 2786 words | cw: implied sexual content, kinda sorta implied monsterfucking ? | tags: dragon steve harrington, crack fic not treated that seriously, friends to lovers, getting together, first kiss, eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington

🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲

Steve doesn’t feel right. He doesn’t know what it is, but it’s not the flu or a cold. If it’s something serious, he’s gonna pretend it’s not. If it’s something Upside Down related, he’s probably gonna die, so it is what it is.

He just feels so warm on the inside, almost feverish, but his skin is fine. A little dry, maybe. Kinda cracked like it’s the middle of winter and he ran out of lotion. And he swears that he’s grown an inch. Maybe more. His pants are hitting above his ankle where they used to be just below.

Maybe it’s just heartburn. He did eat that taco with extra hot sauce last night, and bodies are weird or whatever.

He’s at work when his back starts hurting. He’s used to some pain in his muscles and bones, especially after the last bout with the Upside Down. He’s got chronic pain according to doctors, but it’s really not that bad unless he sleeps wrong or stands for too long on hard flooring or it rains or-

Well, it’s pretty bad a lot, actually, but this is different.

His legs start to cramp during his break, and he decides maybe it is the flu. His shift doesn’t end for another three hours, but he’s not sure he can make it that long on his feet.

He says that to Keith, who somehow managed to get a supervisor position at Melvald’s after everything despite not showing any effort in actually working. He rolls his eyes and complains about Steve trying to get out of working, says he’s never gonna become a team lead if he keeps avoiding finishing a shift.

Nevermind the fact that Steve has rarely ever left a shift early, even when he couldn’t see straight from a migraine or walk from his knee joints rubbing together until he was sure they would start a fire.

But he leaves, and he feels exhausted the moment he gets in his car, and he wonders how he’s going to get home.

The burning in his chest gets worse as he drives. His vision goes blurry and then suddenly extremely clear. He can see everything. There’s water droplets on the car in front of him, but it hasn’t rained. That’s weird.

Almost as weird as being able to see water droplets from his own car when he could barely read the license plate on the car for the first few miles that he was behind them.

He parks in his driveway and gets out of his car. The world spins a little.

He gets inside his house and collapses on his couch.

Everything goes black.

****

“Okay. So we just aren’t gonna call anyone else about this?” Robin’s voice breaks through Steve’s consciousness, and he blinks his eyes open. “No one else should know about Steve no longer being human?”

Steve finds that to be a concerning statement.

“I’m not sure what anyone else is gonna be able to do about his current situation!” Eddie whisper-yells.

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a weird growl.

And then everything else hits him.

He is much larger than when he passed out. He looks down and realizes the concerning words Robin spoke are even more concerning than he originally thought.

He growls again, louder.

“Okay, Steve? Stay calm. You appear to be a dragon. But like, that’s kinda par for the course! Like, I’m sure it’s temporary!” Robin is rambling and she is loud and the room is so bright. He’s not even sure how he still fits in the room.

“I just think if we called Hopper, he could at least figure out who needs to know!” Eddie ignores Steve’s growling.

Apparently, he can’t fucking speak, and he’s a dragon. So that’s cool, and he’s so glad he left work early so he didn’t have to explain becoming a flying fantasy creature to Keith or a random shopper. That would be quite a conversation.

“This is so bad. He can’t talk!” Robin ignores Eddie’s suggestion, which isn’t a bad one at all in Steve’s opinion. Eddie’s actually very logical and smart most of the time. Turns out when he’s not being wrongfully hunted by the cops, he’s a pretty chill dude. “Steve, can you write?”

Steve blinks and he feels something burning in his chest.

“Of course he can’t write!” Eddie exclaims. “He has claws!”

Steve tilts his head down and realizes Eddie’s right. He doesn’t have hands. He’s got claws. Sharp ones.

He makes a noise that sounds closer to a whimper than a growl, and the room goes quiet.

“Are you in pain?” Robin asks.

Steve looks at her concerned eyes, her bitten-red lips, her anxiously wringing hands. She’s gotta calm down before she has a full-blown panic attack.

He shakes his head once before leaning forward to gently nudge her hands with his nose.

God, this is weird.

“This is so fucking weird,” Eddie says under his breath. Steve’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have heard it if he were human.

Steve tilts his head so his nose nudges against Eddie’s cheek.

Eddie lets out a strangled laugh before he reaches a hand up to touch Steve’s neck.

“This is unreal.”

Steve finally recognizes the burning feeling as fire. He’s a dragon. He’s gonna breathe fire. This is so fucking strange.

He pushes up and somehow manages to turn his body until he’s facing the window. He won’t be able to open it without breaking it, so he hopes Robin or Eddie figure out his intentions. He’d really like to not burn his house down.

Eddie seems to catch on quickly, rushing to make room between Steve’s face and the window. He unlocks it and throws it open, hurrying away from Steve’s mouth.

Fire pours from him for nearly ten whole seconds.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie says when he’s done. “Does that hurt?”

Steve shakes his head again. If anything, it relieves him of that burning sensation that’s been in his chest all day. He feels lighter.

He’s still a dragon, though.

That’s a pretty big issue.

“Okay. Alright. We call Hopper. We swear him to secrecy. If the kids find out-“

“Dustin can never know about this. He’ll be insufferable during campaigns,” Eddie says, one hand caressing Steve’s scaly skin. It feels nice, soothing. Human Steve hasn’t had a caring touch in a while, so it might feel even better than usual. “But what if they find out anyway? What if he stays like this forever?”

Great question. Steve definitely wants to know the answer to that.

“Well, dragon and human marriage isn’t technically illegal, so I guess you’ll have your happily ever after,” Robin says.

Steve’s head swivels and he hears a crash.

Eddie’s hand is no longer touching him and that’s a shame because it felt really nice and it’s a pretty good distraction from the fact that he’s a very large dragon.

”What the fuck, Buckley.”

“God! I ramble when I’m nervous!” Robin is apologizing and Steve is wishing more than ever that he could talk. He needs to understand what the hell she means. “I’m gonna go call Hopper before I say something I shouldn’t.”

Eddie’s pacing the floor in the very small space that exists around Steve’s body.

Actually, he decides now is as good a time as any to take a look at what’s going on. He can feel how big he is, but it doesn’t really register until he turns his head to see the wide expanse of his body. He doesn’t see wings, which is bullshit. If he has to be a dragon, he should get wings, right? Eddie always draws them with wings. His tail is spiked, but not nearly as long as he expected it to be.

Damn, is he a disappointing dragon?

“Dude, I dunno what she was talking about with the marriage thing. Sorry if that made something weird.” Eddie is rambling now and Steve is focusing back on him instead of the way his chest and belly seem to be much more durable than the rest of his skin. There’s a lot to unpack with this development. “I’m not into dragons. I’m into normal dudes and women with blue hair. Probably also dudes with blue hair. But, normal dudes do it for me. Like you usually are my top pick. Oh fuck.”

Steve huffs what should be an amused laugh, but ends up just being a half-snort.

“I mean not that you aren’t kind of hot like this!” Eddie rushes to say. “If dragons were hot, you would be the hottest dragon around. In fact, there’s a voice in my brain that’s very curious about how this would work like…sexually. But obviously that can’t happen. It won’t happen! I’m sorry. I’m shutting up. Maybe even leaving.”

Steve’s mind is reeling. He’s even more frustrated that he can’t speak now that Eddie’s clearly talking himself into a hole he might not be able to climb back out of.

He didn’t even realize he was Eddie’s type. He didn’t even know Eddie was his type until a few weeks ago! And now he can’t do anything about it because he’s a dragon.

He huffs again, but this time in frustration.

“Hop’s on his way!” Robin yells as she walks back into the room. With both of them and Steve taking up almost the entire room, Steve notices how hot it’s getting.

“One of us should probably tell Nancy. She’s gonna want to know about this,” Eddie suggests. “And she likes you way more so it should probably be you.”

“I’m not leaving Steve right now. He’s in the middle of the biggest crisis of his life.”

Steve grunts. This is surprisingly not the biggest crisis of his life. Top three, maybe.

He nudges Robin towards the door with his nose. Her panic is too much for him right now, and Eddie’s is a different panic. He can handle Eddie.

“You want me to go?” Robin clarifies.

Steve nods his head once. More than once is a chore. His head is so heavy.

“Fine, but I’m coming right back after. I’m not letting you be a dragon alone,” Robin says before rushing out the door.

Steve looks over at Eddie and feels his whole body shiver.

What the hell is that about?

“Are you hungry…or thirsty…or anything else?” Eddie asks awkwardly.

Steve’s good. He doesn’t feel any pain for the first time in a long time. He isn’t hungry or thirsty. He shivers again.

“Are you cold?” Eddie must notice, stepping so close that all Steve can smell is whatever cologne Eddie wore today and his leather jacket. “I can shut the window.”

Steve leans his head down, nudges his nose against Eddie’s neck.

He jumps.

“Cold,” he breathes out. “Are you okay?”

Steve wants to tell him yes. He’s inconvenienced, but he’s okay.

He nods once.

“I can wait outside?” Eddie offers.

Steve shakes his head. He shivers.

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Uh. I think maybe you need to be outside.”

Eddie walks to his shoulder, touches just past what would normally be his shoulder blade.

It’s almost too much when Eddie’s fingers brush against the leathery skin there. Steve lets out a rumbling noise, something between a growl and a moan. He isn’t sure if dragons can moan, but he assumes they can be turned on, and Eddie’s touch seems to be doing that.

“You have wings,” Eddie’s voice is awed. “I don’t even know how to get you out the door. God, what if you’re stuck in here? Like a caged bird. I’ll break a wall or something. Wayne could patch up something for you. But the neighbors…”

Steve feels it more definitely now: wings trying desperately to spread behind him.

He probably should be outside. He can’t be right now, not here, but they have to figure that out if he doesn’t change back soon.

“Okay. It’ll be late enough in the next hour, we could probably get the sliding glass doors out of the way and maybe you could-” Steve cuts him off with a nudge to his neck. “I wish you could tell me what you’re thinking.”

Steve wishes that, too. He’s not sure how he’s gonna get out of this predicament without explaining what he does know, and he can’t do that if he can’t talk.

Eddie rests his head against Steve’s shoulder, and it can’t be comfortable, but he stays there as he fills the silence. Sometimes, Eddie talks too much. Right now, Steve’s glad he has things to say.

“...And Wayne insisted I tell you, but he doesn’t understand that you’re not into guys. He keeps saying you probably just never considered it an option, but that’s probably not true. I mean, you and Tommy were close and it seems like maybe if you were gonna be into dudes, he’d be your type.”

Steve huffs and Eddie laughs.

“Okay, okay. So he wouldn’t be your type. Tom Cruise?”

Steve knocks his jaw against the top of Eddie’s head. He’s gentle because he already recognizes the damage he could do if he wasn’t.

“Knew it,” Eddie sighs. “I have about as much in common with Tom Cruise as Wayne does.”

It’s quiet for a minute. Steve wishes he could say something, tell Eddie that he does think Tom Cruise is hot, but he finds Eddie beautiful, and that difference is important. He wishes he could tell Eddie that he doesn’t find Tom Cruise interesting, doesn’t think he would enjoy listening to him talk about campaigns and music and whatever random fact he read in a book.

Eddie’s head turns, and his mouth is brushing against Steve’s scales. He can’t believe he has scales.

And then he doesn’t.

He feels lightheaded, the room goes black, and when he opens his eyes again, he’s on the floor with his head propped in Eddie’s lap.

His human head.

Attached to his human body.

“Steve? Jesus Christ. Are you okay?” Eddie’s too loud.

Steve raises his hand and pats Eddie’s cheek, smiling up at him. “Can’t believe you would fuck me as a dragon.”

Eddie cackles. There’s no other word for the hysterical laughter he can’t seem to control from bursting out of him.

“I would fuck you as anything, I think,” he says when he finally calms down. He isn’t looking away from Steve and Steve isn’t looking away from him.

He’s suddenly exhausted, and he’s sure that whatever his body just went through is going to take some major recovery. Steve closes his eyes and holds Eddie’s hand against his chest.

“Tell Hop I started feeling warm inside and then grew and became a dragon,” he mumbles, yawns, smacks his lips together as he settles more in Eddie’s lap. “Might happen again.”

“Right. Should I take you to the hospital?” Eddie sounds far away now.

“Nope.”

Eddie leans down to kiss his forehead, brushes the hair from Steve’s face. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m fine,” Steve blinks his eyes open, uses every ounce of energy he has left to do it. “Am I a normal dude?”

Eddie’s forehead crinkles. “What do you mean?”

“You said you were into normal dudes. Is that me?”

Eddie tenses under him.

“You’re a normal dude, yeah.”

“So you’re into me?” Steve closes his eyes again. “Enough to kiss me?”

“I cannot believe this is happening. This night has to be a dream. Or someone finally got their hands on me and killed me.”

“I like dudes who like dragons,” Steve says, smiling lazily as he curls up his body to fight off the cold. He realizes he’s naked, and should probably cover up before Hopper gets here, but he doesn’t want to move. “And dudes who play guitar and ramble when they’re nervous.”

“Oh,” Eddie gasps. “So…you like me?”

“Kiss me before I change my mind.”

Steve’s too tired to put much into the kiss, but Eddie leads, and it’s perfect. There’s not much he can do about his dick getting hard when Eddie deepens the kiss and runs his hands down his sides. He’s exhausted, but his dick isn’t.

Eddie manages to get them to the couch, and Steve manages not to fall asleep until after Eddie’s gotten him off. The mess can wait, but Eddie throws a blanket over them when he hears a car door slam and boots walking up to the door.

“Did you get high or was Steve really a dragon?” Hopper asks as Steve loses his battle with the exhaustion.

Hopefully he wakes up human, but he thinks even if he doesn’t, Eddie will still be into him.

[elodieunderglass]

I was digging through the old Killie-posting at the reminder of a recent ask (it's fun reading the older stuff now that you've thoroughly Gotten Me and I'm invested), and I wanted to ask: there's a mention in a post talking about Thunder and Killie's relationship that "the thing about Thunder is he’s the one who started it when you do the psychic-plugging-in-thing with him, he makes you a slightly worse person, and Killie’s already awful" (you, a month ago)

and. is that. is that why Killie bites people. and also why does Killie bite people. and also please talk more about Killie biting people???

(Killie the jockey OC, who has a bit of a nipping problem, and this post about his beautiful relationship with O Holy Thunder.)

Ah, unfortunately for everyone, Killie’s impulses to biting and kicking are because he is a wild horse predate his rancid racehorse frenemy.

Picture this: Republic of Ireland, the 1990s, around the time of the ceasefire. You have an English mother, ginger hair and the build of a half-starved pixie, which despite the context of everyone knowing you’re a member of the fifth generation of a large and well-known family of jockeys, is still small as hell. You are the pride and joy of your father’s heart, and he loves you, but also hits you with a jockey’s whip, because he loves you. Your mother seems alarmed by reminders of your existence and seems to wish that she hadn’t had children at all. You are the Oldest and responsible for the others, but do not really understand them. You and your twin see people’s deaths sometimes maybe. You live with horses and can read their minds, but you are also told not to love them, because they aren’t yours. It’s rural and everyone’s broke and you have a stammer. You are good at two things: maths, and horses, but people persist in talking to you about other things regardless. In a Catholic country you are so bad at Catholicism that you fuck up your own first communion. You are violently, relentlessly, unspeakably competitive. You already have the prided imperviousness to pain and toughness of constitution that will make you a champion. You are, it must be said, extraordinarily tiny.

And then people expect you to go to school about it. Where you are autistic in a way detectable to every schoolchild wishing to start an early bullying career in unenlightened times.

So the first time someone tries something, you don’t understand; and your father tells you to come back with his blood on your mouth. So the next time someone tries something, you simply get him on the floor and try to take his ear off. Simple. Clear. Elegant. Sorts everything out. People make too much fuss about things, really.

You develop a fairly vile temper and tendency to fight first, rather than trying to interpret the nuance of how people are trying to tease you.

You grow up into a sport in a time where a certain amount of scuffling went on in the changing rooms. That was how it’s always been.

In the column of Things On Your Side, you have an identical twin, who has somehow managed to fill in every gap, do all the talking, drag you through the worst bits and somehow include you in things like Having Friends. Much like an emotional support dog for a cheetah, you share the burden of emotional regulation with him, and fight for each other, and communicate constantly. And then he goes.

You are 4’10, and a champion athlete, always angry, impervious to pain, and will do anything to win…

And you also bite the horses on the ear sometime. Old and problematic horse handling trick.

Thunder started it.

[adonis-koo]

sweet nothing • 8

| in which you run into an old costumer |

↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.

His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader

↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!

Word count: 3k

Previous | Next

Note: just know that the only reason these updates take so long is because I keep writing plot based chapters and I really just wanna post fluff based chapters 😭

“Thank you for taking me out!” You grinned as you took a large sip of your hot chocolate, it was still definitely not cold enough for it yet but you didn’t care.

Something about hitting your third trimester had you wanting to nest like crazy, it had you going around the estate cleaning and getting guards to help move furniture around.

You really had no right to be doing it but nobody told you otherwise.

Jungkook had come back midday, surprisingly early, he had paused in the entry hall of his home locking eyes with the pregnant menace that had abruptly put herself at the forefront of his life once again.

It was then he realized you definitely needed to get out of the estate.

“If it keeps you from not moving all my stuff around,” He shrugged, leaning back in his seat, eyes flickering from his phone to you.

You frowned, “I’m sorry, I don’t even know what possessed me.” You sighed, “Well I do, they say third trimester can make you start nesting.”

“Nesting?”

You glared are the way he snorted as if not believing you, “It’s a fact, you can look it up.”

“The fuck is that even supposed to be? What are you, a bird?”

“It means you just get the innate urge to just…” you puffed your cheeks, ignoring that look he was giving you, “Clean and decorate and just…I don’t know I can’t describe it! Just wish I had my own place to do that with and prepare for the baby.”

Jungkook sighed, his eyes went from looking at you to dropping down to your stomach, it was round when you had first come to the estate, but it was evident six weeks had passed, “Then maybe it’s time we talk about a nursery.”

You paused, getting ready to take another drink from your cup but it never meets to your lips.

Jungkook sighed, “I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but finding your brother has quite literally lead me to dead ends I didn’t even think would exist. You’re almost thirty weeks pregnant, that’s less than three months.”

“Okay yeah I can do basic math, but it’s already been almost two months. Surely it won’t take another two months to find him,” You pressed your lips together nervously.

“Would it be so terrible if you gave birth in the estate? It’ll probably be a better experience than the hospital.” Jungkook commented, picking up his coffee as he took a sip.

It wasn’t that you were against giving birth in the estate, professional staff in the comforts of a bed? That was a luxury every woman could only dream of having, it was more the aftermath of it.

The idea of still living at the estate post pregnancy…it was a dangerous thought, it was too close to the life you had once wanted with Jungkook.

You just weren’t sure how to articulate that too him.

Jungkook finally raised a brow at you, noticing your lack of reply.

“I just…don’t want to get too comfortable at the estate.” You finally spoke carefully, “I don't think that's good for anybody involved.”

“I understand but I also don’t like being unprepared- in any aspect concerning me or my estate, and that includes you whether you want it or not.” Jungkook replied, “Just because a nursery is there doesn’t mean it’ll ever be used, it’ll just be there so first of all, you stop moving all my shit and you have a place to do your bird stuff-“

“Nesting.” You glared, lips quirking into a pout as your hands wrapped around your stomach.

Jungkook’s lips curved a little, “Bird stuff. And second, if it does turn out that your stay is extended, it’ll be ready.”

You still weren’t completely sold on the idea, if anything you felt like it would just feed into the delusion even further.

“Why hello there mama.” Another voice suddenly cut in, grabbing a chair from the empty table next to you both and plopping it on the side of your table.

Jungkook immediately straightened up, eyes glaring daggers that could definitely kill, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Yoongi!”

The man brushed his black hair from his eyes a quirky smirk on his face as he shrugged, “Uh I’m just stopping in to say hello to my favorite barista who got put on bed rest early.”

A smile twisted on your lips, you were familiar with his face, he had been a regular for almost two years, the realization however quickly hit that Jungkook was very acquainted with this man.

You felt flabbergasted for a moment, you couldn’t believe you never made the connection that the regular customer Yoongi was also Underboss business partner Yoongi.

“It’s nice to see you again Yoongi! I can't believe I didn’t recognize you as Jungkook’s partner…” You sheepishly smiled.

Jungkook clearly didn’t share the same sentiment, his nostrils flared and he looked ready to maul his partner.

“Nah probably for the best you didn’t realize. You as well, you look only a thousand times prettier, have that pregnancy glow about you.” Yoongi threw your a wink.

Jungkook wasn’t sure what made him more violent, the fact that you both were already well acquainted or Yoongi so casually flirting with you.

It was part of his personality but it still didn’t make any attention he or any other male gave you, any easier for Jungkook to witness.

“If you aren’t here for business, get the fuck away from our table.” Jungkook gritted his teeth, as if it took every fiber of his being to not right hook.

Yoongi didn’t seem phased, “Oh I was just in the area, been coming to Serendipity for a long while now, and then I suddenly see my favorite barista who’s been gone for two months, of course I have have to say hello.”

“Okay well you said hello, now go the fuck away.”

“Jungkook!” You said sternly, “Don’t be so stubborn, Yoongi can sit with us for a few minutes at least.”

His eyes were a raging fire as they burned into you, his chest puffing but he said no more as Yoongi observed you both, a smirk on his face as he leaned back in his chair.

“How are you enjoying the estate Y/n?”

You smiled tenderly, “The company makes it honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without Jungkook and Yeonjun.”

“Yeonjun?” Jungkook looked like he sucked on a sour lemon as he spat the name out.

“I still want my apartment back but I’ve made the most of the it. What about you? Why haven’t you come to visit if you knew where I was?” You asked, curious as to what the man had been up too.

Yoongi’s gaze flickered to Jungkook, “Well…let’s just say I was asked to not drop by unless it was absolutely necessary.”

“And it isn’t.” Jungkook gritted.

“Okay well first of all this doesn’t count cause we’re not at the estate, second of all you’re not the only one who has relations to Y/n, I mean have you ever had this woman’s chai? Or her baked cinnamon rolls? Talented hands right there.” Yoongi stretched out in his seat, that playful nature about him.

“Oh don’t flatter me.” You shooed his praise.

“No you deserve all the praise in the world, in fact you deserve-“

“We’re going.” Jungkook stood up from his seat, sick of this if he had to hear one more word come out of his stupid partners mouth.

“Jungkook!” You complained, but nevertheless took his hand when he offered it, “Please visit Yoongi, you’re conversation is always welcomed.”

Yoongi only smiled, sunk into his seat as he watched the tall broody figure practically drag you away, it made him laugh in amusement.

Yoongi by no means kept an eye on you the last two years for his own benefit, but he supposed somethings would always remain thankless.

He had accomplished what he wanted though, evidently no matter how much Jungkook talked- and he talked a lot, it was clear he had grown possessive over you in the last few months.

Yoongi shook his head in amusement, watching the viper leave the parking lot through the window, he was happy to see that old spark in his partner return.

“What was that about!” You complained, immediately dialing the heat down to sixty in the car.

“You shouldn’t be talking to him,” Jungkook grumbled, hands gripping the steer wheel as if he was trying to strangle it, “If you care about your baby’s safety you’ll make an active effort to not talk to him.”

“Hes been one of my regulars for like two years,” you complained, “How was I supposed to know he was your partner? I never even officially met him! What makes him anymore dangerous then you? Hm?”

Jungkook deflated, obviously not having a good reason, “The difference is I’m protecting you.”

“Oh so you’re saying he wouldn’t?”

“The point,” Jungkook gritted his teeth in annoyance, “Is don’t talk to him.”

You frowned as you twisted to fully look at Jungkook, was he…jealous?

“Are you mad that I’m paying attention to someone else?” You asked upfront, you could only be discreet about so many things.

“I’m not mad”.

“No you’re definitely mad.” You replied pointedly.

“I’m annoyed that my business partner is talking to me outside of business.” Jungkook replied.

“But he was talking to me, not you.” You crossed your arms.

“He was doing that on purpose.” Jungkook huffed.

It was silent for a long moment as you folded your hands into your lap.

Of course you didn’t have to point it out, but truthfully it felt too ridiculous to not? “Are you jealous?”

“No.”

There was another pause.

“Why would I be jealous?”

“You tell me,” you replied, a pout on your lips, “You always do this when someone talks to me, men specifically.”

“Do you actually want an honest answer?” Jungkook looked even more annoyed, even so much as throwing you a frosty glance before his eyes returned to the road.

You blinked before a troubled frown slowly curved on your lips, you could think of several ways he’d be honest and none of them you’d be able to fully believe.

“What I want,” you took a breath, “Is to be able to have a conversation without you looking like you’re shooting daggers out of your eyes.”

“I wasn’t shooting daggers out of my eyes.”

You puffed your cheeks, “Well you claim you don’t do a lot of things, that you do in fact, do.”

“How about we just stop talking.” Jungkook replied.

You pouted but spoke no more as you yawned.

“Do you wanna go home?”

You nodded with a small groan, “Yeah, I need to take a nap,” you nodded with another yawn.

Jungkook only nodded in return, eyes occasionally glancing at you, attempting to sleep in the car, when did his life start revolving around you this much?

[livmightlive]

2 Adventure AU (cont.

REFURBISHING AND polishing my 2 adventures AU 

If you don’t want to read my last post, (which is fair bc it was mostly rambling), the gist of it is that the LU crew goes on two adventures. The first one occurs while most of the chain is quite young and then years after that adventure ends they all come back together again grown. This applies to everybody BUT Warriors. 

For the first adventure most the heroes are really young. Time has just finished the events of Majora’s Mask. Wind has just finished Wind Waker. Four, he’s not even Four yet, just went thru Minish Cap. These three are all around age 11-12.

Hyrule is 13, having been living by himself for a year now after completing the events of Zelda 1. Legend is 16 and has only been home for few months after the events of Link’s Awakening. 

Sky and Twilight are both 17, having just finished their respective journeys.

WILD, I owe this completely to the suggestion of @durudurururu, is 16 and has recently been knighted and is starting his fight against the calamity. He has not been through the events of BotW yet. 

And Warriors. . . Warriors is a 23 year old, recently appointed captain, who is in the early stages of the war of eras. He has so far not met Mask or Tune yet in his war. 

I think the funniest way this would go is that Wars along with Sky, Twilight, Wild, and Legend are pulled together in quick succession and are told somehow by the goddess that there’s a great threat that requires many of her heroes to vanquish. 

Wars thinks this will be fine. He isn’t shocked that this is happening, his own era is going through something similar, and working with some teens isn’t bad. He’s already used to leading young knights back home. 

Shit hits the fan immediately 😭

Warriors tries to take charge, assuming a leadership position quickly. Sky and Wild are quick to follow him, already quite used to following captains back home, but Legend and Twilight… 

Legend, freshly traumatized, has decided that he already hates Warriors and does his best to refute everything he says and generally makes things 100 times more difficult. Legend often tries to do his own thing which pisses of Wars to no end. Wild and Legend develop SEVERE beef right away after Legend’s declaration that “knights ain’t shit.” Sky tried to play mediator until Legend declares that “Hylia is a stank-ass ho” as to which Sky is like: >:(

Wars hopes that Twilight will be reasonable. He tries to tell Twilight to do something he doesn’t want to do one day and his response is to spit in the ground, “not the city slicker telling me what to do.” And struts away. 

Wars prays, PRAYS., for the day this adventure is over. His teenage comrades get into more fights with each other than they do with the black blooded monsters they should be. Their hygiene is almost dangerously bad. They REEK. Wars prays for the day he doesn’t get awoken by a petty argument. Three times this week dinner has been interrupted by a PHYSICAL altercation between from two to ALL of the boys.

When Sky says the goddess told him more heroes will be joining them, Wars prays that they will be older and wiser. When he’s met with a gang of child soldiers he decides that Hylia must be dead and gone because this has to be the work of demise. 

Two of them are non verbal. The masked one makes some attempt to sign, but the young, skittish teenager makes absolutely 0 effort to even try or even indicate that he’s listening to Wars. Wars is convinced that both of are feral. Were they raised in the woods?? In a cave? 

One is a self proclaimed pirate. Wars is ashamed in the others that the person who tries hardest to actually listen to him is the 12 year old actual criminal who starts struggling with alcohol withdrawal a week into the journey. 

Baby Four is basically the version of himself at the beginning of the 4 sword manga. A huge ego as he’s a budding knight. He listens to Wars less than Legend does. 

Miraculously they manage to survive, not even the journey but each other. Things got a little easier. 

Legend takes responsibility for Hyrule after the chain discovers he’s not in fact non-verbal BUT Hylian is not his native language. He speaks Calatian and Legend the resident polyglot takes to teaching him Hylian. 

Wars is shocked when Wild and Twilight become buddies. He has no clue when that happened. Wild is unsettlingly quiet and too well behaved at the best of times while Wars has to bribe Twilight to bathe sometimes. 

Four looks up to Sky after he learns that he’s a god slayer and starts listening to him in proxy of Wars. 

Wars finds himself with two shadows, Time and Wind.

Their mission comes to a close and Wars finds that he’s dearly going to miss all of his little brothers despite the stress they put him through. He’s prematurely greying now. 

He returns to his own war, reunited with Time and Wind, each a smidge older. After two more years, the war is over and Wars once more says goodbye. The day after the war is declared over, Wars is pulled back by the goddess into a journey across time once again. Apparently there’s some unfinished business from last time.

Wars is SO stressed. He’s not at all ready to go back to being the single father/Fiona Gallagher to 8 traumatized children again. He barely, BARELY, survived last time.

Somehow what he finds is much worse 😭

All of Wars’ journey including the one he went on with the chain, occurred over 3 years for him. He’s now 25. So why… WHY is everyone else so much older????

Baby Mask and the Minish hero are so much older. Time must be pushing 40 and Four is easily 5 years older than Wars.

Twilight, Sky, and Legend are all in their mid to late 20s. Twilight is courting a nice young woman, Legend is engaged, and Sky is MARRIED. With kids. 

Wild, what happened to that guy???, is nothing like the quiet, unsettling, lad he was before. He’s in his early 20s and well. More Wild than ever. He also doesn’t remember or barely recalls anybody.

Hyrule, shy, skittish, feral, Hyrule is also now in his early 20s and is almost outgoing. He speaks clearly and magic unlike anything Wars has ever felt before seems to come from his very being. 

Wind is finally of legal drinking age and is shockingly similar to before except now he claims to be able to see dead people. 

The first thing everyone does is treat Warriors to a drink while he processes.