#super soaker fic

[mauvecherie-writes]

This one gets a little nasty y’all 🙈 it’s been a while since I’ve written Lewis like this ….

[screampied]

✩ here’s the masterlist! — this features published works from 11/11/23 ‘till 04/30/24. 18+ only. for more current & recent works, here’s the second masterlist.

ೀ⋆ MULTI HEADCANONS.

how they brat tame you.

being a brat ‘n spitting their load out.

no nut november.

hit it from the back.

too sweet. (cw aphrodisiacs)

slippery when wet. (cw squirting)

hiding your moans in bed.

she’s a super freak.

gimme gimme more.

three’s a crowd.

ride it like you own it.

but that dick was a 10/10.

just the tip girl.

ride the dick like a carnival.

scream no bologna.

talkin bodyyy.

slut stretch me out.

fuck me like u want me.

getting a screampie.

freak like me.

ೀ⋆ ONESHOTS/FICS.

💭 SATORU GOJO.

fantasize: you screw your fwb to get over your shitty ex. was it worth it though? probably…not.

sweet tooth: two culinary chefs compete on who can make you cream the most. get it?

fifteen seconds of fame: popstar!gojo needs help on warming up his vocal chords. his solution? right between your legs.

bad romance: you get sandwiched between popstar!gojo & his best friend of a bassist, suguru geto.

poker face: instead of receiving his fifth grammy for the night, popstar!gojo gets a…boner.

alejandro: arguing with the famous popstar leads for him to fire you. what happens when you see him with another assistant the next day?

it’s a match! last friday night: you end up ‘accidentally’ matching on tinder with your best friend—then you hook up with him, then the L word gets thrown around. damn!

💭 FUSHIGURO TOJI.

mission failed: nut ruined: you’re hired to kill a famous assassin but instead you end up in his bed.

love me, love me [ not ]: you get arranged to marriage toji. how does a single kiss make you weak so easily?

think i need someone older: fucking your dad's best friend was so wrong but felt so right.

darlin can i be your favorite: you fuck your dad’s two best friends and one of them is you ex-boyfriend (shiu kong)

one of his girlssss: your dad’s best friend finds out about your side hustle of being a camgirl. oops!

knock(her)out: you get shared between two boxers before their big match.

that girl is mine: you meet up with your dad’s best friend one more time, although instead of telling him those three words, you tell him something else.

💭 SUGURU GETO.

sweet tooth: two culinary chefs compete on who can make you cream the most. get it?

jailbreak: you’re a correctional officer for one of your inmates. sleeping with him? not your brightest idea.

bad romance: you get sandwiched between popstar!gojo & his best friend of a bassist, suguru geto.

💭 SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

knock(her)out: you get shared between two boxers before their big match.

ೀ⋆ THIRSTS.

💭 SATORU GOJO.

throat goat.

that’s what i thought.

thats what i thought boy.

lip gloss poppin.

super soaker.

suck a what.

💭 FUSHIGURO TOJI.

jealousy jealousy.

want you back.

thinkin’ bout you.

tease me please me.

talk you through.

want a taste.

hate me fuck me.

talk to me nice.

soft with you.

💭 SUGURU GETO.

no talking.

just a brat.

wear my hoodie.

my pretty girl.

💭 CHOSO KAMO.

my love mine all mine.

draw me, do me.

that’s a good girl.

want your taste.

get humbled.

vampire choso.

sharing is caring

good boy.

missed you.

stuck in the middle.

edge me baby.

can’t take it.

💭 SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

said it’s her first time.

remember your safe word.

give me one more.

twos better than one.

tease me please me.

stretch me baby.

kinda kinky.

wanna please you.

lick me up.

💭 NANAMI KENTO.

can’t live without you.

do i pass?

test me.

give me more.

my messy girl.

💭 HIGURUMA HIROMI.

on call.

nose rider.

love me harder.

relax for me.

my girl.

💭 YUKI TSUKUMO.

let me be your woman.

sharing is caring.

stuck in the middle.

💭 HAKARI KENJI.

fill me up.

too flexible.

slip n slide.

💭 SHIU KONG.

on the hood.

💭 SHOKO IEIRI.

down on me.

© 2023-2024 SCREAMPIED. please do not copy, modify, or translate my work. all rights are rightfully reserved to me.

[usedtobecooler]

Omg your squirting fics are top tier. Please, please could I get something where the reader confesses that no guy has ever made her squirt it’s only been herself and it usually depends on how rough she goes at it, so Eddie is just heart eyes and wants to be the first to make her squirt for him.

Cue super soaker 🔫🔫🔫

i am absolutely fucking feral lmao

Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), fingering f receiving, squirting, dirty talk, groping, straight up smut

Word Count | 1.1k

"I'm telling you, Eds, nobody has ever been able to make me squirt before. Just myself but, like, I've really only done it real good once." You had been so sheepish, cheeks burning hot as you admitted this to him. How you got onto the topic you don't remember, but Eddie had always been nosey and pried at every little inch of your life.

"I bet I could make you squirt." Eddie's words had come out fast, blurted out like word vomit, his eyes wild like he's up to something "My fingers are skilled, don't you know."

You had rolled your eyes at him, shoving him playfully. You'd pondered it for a moment, expecting him to back out once you'd said - "Fine then, rockstar. Prove me wrong, put those fingers to good use."

You missed the way Eddie looked at you with heart eyes, the way his cock had kicked up in his pants at the thought of finally being able to get his hands on you. He'd grabbed your hand, pulling you out of your seat and tugging you through to his room.

That's how you ended up here, in this situation. Nuzzled tight between Eddie's spread legs in front of the floor length mirror in his room, leaning back against his front with your head rested on his shoulder.

He spread your legs apart roughly, had made you strip naked from the waist down and bent your legs up so he could get a good view of your wet cunt and thick thighs in the mirror. He had wanted you to watch him make you fall apart, make you watch yourself squirt and make a mess for him.

It was new, but you weren't nervous, as Eddie slid two expert fingers up and down your folds, getting the digits nice and wet before sinking them both into your cunt, crooking them and finding your spongey spot almost immediately.

Eddie was just so good at everything he put his mind to. You'd never had any doubt he'd be good at fucking, you'd heard whispers from some of the girls around town before and from what they'd said he knew his way around pussy, could have anybody folding for him.

"Is this okay?" Eddie asks, though his voice drips with confidence as you suck in a shuddery breath, nodding at his reflection and moaning. His doe eyes are watching you, flitting back and forth between your face and where his fingers sink into your cunt, wetness already dripping down the inside of his wrist.

You're turned into a moaning mess pretty quickly, Eddie's calloused fingertips pressing into your g-spot relentlessly, free hand roaming your clothed torso, dipping in through the neck of your shirt to give your tit a squeeze, fingertips grazing your nipple.

You're loud too, you know you are, the heat in your tummy increasing as you watch Eddie's lust blown eyes watching you, drinking in every little bit of your body like he wants to devour you. You know that his neighbours can probably hear, his window is wide open and it's not as if there's much space between trailers.

It makes your gut churn, knowing that anybody could walk by and hear you getting finger fucked into oblivion. Heat blooms in your body, makes your cunt clench, "Fuck, Eddie, you're so good at this, so so good."

"Yeah? Really?" Eddie's smirking, crooking his fingers again and stopping the pumping, just sliding the pads back and forth to stimulate your g-spot until you're gasping, "You have no idea how fucking sexy you look, God. Your pussy looks so pretty, stuffed full on my fingers."

You whine, squeezing your eyes shut, cunt clamping down on his fingers at the praise - he knew what buttons to press with you, knew that you liked to be spoken to in this way. He was insatiable.

Eddie grabs a hold of your cheeks roughly, shaking your head until you're forced to look at yourself in the mirror again, "Look at yourself when I make you cum like a filthy slut."

The moan you let out is ungodly, Eddie's gorgeous brown orbs full of lust and heat as his gaze flits between looking at your flushed face and his fingers sinking deep into your cunt. The noises are so loud, your sopping wet pussy engulfing his fingers invading your senses.

"C'mon baby, know you can do it for me," Eddie's grinning at your reflection in the mirror, transfixed on your flushed face, "know you wanna squirt around my fingers. Do it for me please, sweetheart."

Eddie's words should be cute but they come out so vulgar, have your gummy pussy clenching and spasming around his fingers. The wet noises increase tenfold in your ears, his voice making you impossibly wetter for him.

Your orgasm builds so quickly you barely comprehend it, prickly heat spreading all over your body, feeling like your bladder is impossibly full and you need to relieve yourself. Your tummy feels like it's in knots, a high-pitched whine leaving your open mouth.

"E-Eddie, oh god, fuck, I'm cumming," You cry out, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping onto his free hand roughly as the coil in your tummy finally unravels and you're coming, release soaking Eddie's hand and wrist, pooling under your ass. He refuses to let up his relentless fingers on your soft spot, pressing on it roughly until he coaxes another wet spurt out of you.

"Fuck yeah, there's my girl!" Eddie's chin is hooked on your shoulder, watching you gush and squirt all over the floor through mirror, some of it even sparking up the glass. He's grinning like the cat that got the cream, all toothy and proud as you moan and whine in his grasp.

Your chest is heaving from the sheer force of your release, whole body shaking as you come down from it. Eddie's fingers slide out of you deftly, forcing a choked off sob out of you, cunt clenching around emptiness.

He nuzzles at your ear with his nose, pressing a wet kiss to the shell, "Knew you could do it for me, babe. Fuck, that was so hot."

You keen into the touch, nuzzling in and laying back to completely lean your weight on him. His squirt slicked hand rubs up and down the inside of your thigh - it's filthy and probably disgusting but it feels so nice you struggle to care.

You lay there for a moment, until you feel a damp patch form on the back of your shirt that definitely wasn't from you, "Eddie did you... did you cum in your pants?"

Eddie chuckles into your ear, unabashedly and completely unbothered, nodding his head, "First girl to ever make me do that, too. Guess we're even, sweetheart."

[enretrogue]

𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗘 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 𝗙𝗜𝗖 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗦 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝟮

༝༚༝༚ = Black/POC Works ⎢ 24’ Fic Rec M.List

a/n: okay, HEAR ME OUT! i may have developed a LH44 hyperfixation that turned into a full blown Formula 1 obsession (see july fic recs for that). like i have a whole F1TV subscription and i bought Lewis' Mercedes merch and I LOVE LEWIS HAMILTON, CHARLES LECLERC, OSCAR PIASTRI, AND DANIEL RICCIARDO 😌☝🏽. that is all

FORMULA 1:

Lewis Hamilton

Foxxy — @serpenttines ༝༚༝༚

The Sounds We’re Making — ^ ༝༚༝༚

The Speed of Your Heart⎢ Full Send⎢ Sent — ^ ༝༚༝༚

I’d Destroy the Moon for You — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Lovers and Friends⎢Father’s Day — @saturnville ༝༚༝༚

Oops — ^ ༝༚༝༚

A Night Off — ^ ༝༚༝༚

T-Shirt — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Wash Day — ^ ༝༚༝༚

II Hands II Heaven — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Save a Horse, Ride a Driver — @mauvecherie-writes ༝༚༝༚

Poison — ^ ༝༚༝༚

So Ready — ^ ༝༚༝༚

The Morning After — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Duality — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Super Soaker — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Filthy — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Meritorious — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Bathe Me In Your Warmth — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Cupid’s Kisses — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Heartdresser — @thisismeracing ༝༚༝༚

A Friend of a Friend — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Moonshine — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Sunshine — ^ ༝༚༝༚

She’s That Girl — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Part of Your World — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Jealousy, Jealousy — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Just Us — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Paddock Princess — @emjayewrites ༝༚༝༚

Texas Hold ‘Em — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Lil Crush — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Sir/BabyGirl — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Warm, Buttery and Soft — @laneywrld ༝༚༝༚

Call Out My Name — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Alienated — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Still a Champion — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Oh Baby⎢ Part 1⎢ Part 2⎢ Part 3 — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Futile Devices — ^ ༝༚༝༚

If We Being Real — @saintslewis ༝༚༝༚

Kissing On My Tattoos — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Know That You Are Loved — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Whatever She Wants — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Around The Sun — ^ ༝༚༝༚

P*SSY FAIRY — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Slow Motion — ^ ༝༚༝༚

It’s the Soul that Needs a Surgery — ^ ༝༚༝༚

In the End — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Graduation — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Just One More⎢ Part 2⎢ Part 3 — @henneseyhoe༝༚༝༚

Daddy’s Money — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Catch a Flight, Change the Weather — @hopefulromantic1 ༝༚༝༚

Come on Home — ^ ༝༚༝༚

What We Did In the Dark⎢ Ch.1⎢ Ch.2⎢ Ch.3⎢ Ch.4 — @royallyprincesslilly ༝༚༝༚

She Calls Me Daddy Now — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Lil’ Love — ^ ༝༚༝༚

You are My New Dream⎢ Bonus — @peyiswriting ༝༚༝༚

You Could Never Be Me — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Friendly Man — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Pillow Talk — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Grenada — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Mind of Mine — @ham1lton ༝༚༝༚

Assistant!Y/N — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Just Tattoo of Us — @itsmrshamilton ༝༚༝༚

First Sight — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Conversations While Braiding — @non-stop-imagines ༝༚༝༚

Tender Sex and Cockwarming — @httpsserene ༝༚༝༚

We’ve Been Caught. You Might As Well Post It.⎢Part 2 — @writinginfinite ༝༚༝༚

A Little Release — @hookhausenschips ༝༚༝༚

Krispy Kreme — @blackgirlsrxck ༝༚༝༚

[glorious-spoon]

for the prompts: buddie 3 or 20

thank you! here's a bit of future fic, just after their first kiss!

-

Eddie is over by the grill talking to Bobby when Buck comes back out of the kitchen with their drinks. The party has settled and spread out across the Grant-Nash back yard, a cluster of the younger kids chasing each other with water guns and shrieking, a smaller cluster of teenagers pretending to be above it all. May is perched on a table with a Super Soaker across her knees while she talks to Harry, whose shirt is completely drenched. She aims it at Buck when he crosses in front of her, and he lifts both the glasses in his hands and gives her a plaintive look.

"Okay, you're safe. For now," she adds.

"Thanks," Buck says, setting his margarita and Eddie's beer down. "I don't think I'm ready for my drink to be watered down."

She snorts. "Better drink slow."

"I'm hoping you'll find another victim before I'm done."

She laughs and turns back to Harry, and Buck looks out across the lawn. Eddie's been roped into putting together the veggie kebobs, apparently; Buck watches him turn toward Bobby, laughing, as he hands over a couple of skewers, and Eddie turns like he knew Buck was looking and aims the full force of his brilliant smile at him.

Buck smiles back; he always does and always has, but this smile feels different. Two hours ago, Eddie touched his elbow in the grocery store parking lot—an utterly prosaic moment, Buck's hands full of reusable shopping bags, a cart bumped against his hip, heat waves rising up from the pavement—and said, "Hey, set those down for a second."

"Why?" Buck asked, but he did it.

"Don't want you to drop them," Eddie said, and then he cupped his palm over Buck's elbow and tilted up into his space to kiss him lightly on the mouth. An easy, familiar kiss, like it wasn't the first one but the thousandth between them. Buck kissed him back. Eddie's not the first guy he's ever kissed, now, but even if he was, Buck thinks he always would have kissed him back.

He's pretty sure he's the first guy Eddie's ever kissed. But Eddie smiled at him after, like it was easy, like nothing about it scared him at all.

"Yeah?" he asked, and Buck laughed breathlessly and leaned in to brush another kiss across his mouth, and now they're at Bobby and Athena's barbecue, last-minute groceries delivered, and Eddie is looking at him with the sun in his hair and a fond, secret smile on his face, and Buck really wants to kiss him again. He's pretty sure he'll be allowed to.

But for now, he settles for smiling back.

(blossoming romance writing prompts)

[suzukiblu]

Day eleven of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

So Tim may’ve accidentally taken Superboy on a very public coffee date in Metropolis that hopefully no one sold paparazzi photos of and then slightly less accidentally asked him out on a shopping date in Gotham by doubling down on the “fashion show” joke, which he intends to spend gently wearing Kon down into having vast amounts of money spent on him by a grateful “stranger”. Kon didn't ever actually ask him how a Gothamite high schooler tracked down a Metropolis superhero to begin with, which is another thing to make sure to mention in the superhero stranger danger refresher course but is currently doing Tim a lot of favors. 

The situation isn't anything serious, anyway; just a little bit of friendly flirting. Kon's always flirting with someone new, after all, and Tim's fine with the idea of being an experiment for a date or two while he wheedles his way into rearranging Kon's entire life and reducing Cadmus to a smoldering pit and stocking up on anti-Superman weaponry. Actually he's probably a little too fine with that idea, but never mind that. 

Tim’s plotting how to most effectively convince Kon to let him buy him things without overwhelming him and scaring him off, which is a bit complicated since Kon’s socialization has been pretty weird, but that just makes it a better thought exercise anyway. Like a handicap in chess, kind of. 

As are the constant interruptions, because he’s currently doing said plotting in the Justice Cave, which means everyone’s been running in and out all afternoon and pestering him to come do increasingly ludicrous things with the rest of them. Most recently, Bart and Suzie had sixteen different Kool-Aid packets and a small armory’s worth of super-soakers and water guns. Tim had decided to take the better part of valor and not ask. 

Kon comes in after a few minutes dripping a rainbow and smelling like pink lemonade, so Tim is pretty sure he chose correctly on that one. 

“So Kool-Aid comes in way more flavors than I actually realized,” Kon says conversationally, plucking at his soaked-through S-shield. Tim just raises an eyebrow at him, even if the mask mutes the expression a little. He heroically does not notice how said S-shield is currently clinging to Kon’s very nice pecs like wet cellophane. Or anywhere else his costume is clinging, while he’s at it. 

That costume is very, very thoroughly soaked. Bart and Suzie must’ve caught him by surprise, otherwise he’d have probably kept himself from getting quite that soaked with his TTK. At least, Tim assumes he could’ve done that, considering. 

“I realize Impulse is incredibly determined when he gets an idea in his head, but how did you get that wet?” Tim says. “I thought they just had regular water guns.” 

“Bart turned up a pack of balloons somewhere,” Kon explains dryly–no pun intended. 

Well, that explains it, Tim supposes. 

“So is the whole base flooded, or . . . ?” he trails off. Kon snorts, raking his wet curls back off his forehead. Tim wants to lick the splattered black cherry Kool-Aid off the perfect arch of his cheekbone and stick his hands in his jacket pockets. He also wants to preserve his personal dignity and professionalism and appropriate level of distance as the leader, though.

“I’d start collecting two of every Super-Cycle if I were you,” Kon advises. Tim doesn’t laugh, because that wouldn’t be very professional of him, but he lets the corner of his mouth quirk up a little.

“How many Super-Cycles do you think there are?” he says. 

“Two, if it’s up to Bart and the great Kool-Aid flood,” Kon says, then glances back over his shoulder for a moment like he’s checking for something. Tim assumes he’s keeping an eye out for Bart and Suzie, though he should really know Bart’s going to outpace him no matter what, so it's not like he's going to be able to dodge him or–“Hey. Can I ask you a favor, man?” 

“A favor?” Tim blinks, a little nonplussed. “What kind of favor?” 

“A Bat kind of favor,” Kon says, stepping a little farther into the room. “Uh. If it’s not too weird.” 

“What do you need?” Tim asks, his attention sharpening. A Bat kind of favor implies Kon needs help with a supervillain or at least a criminal, though if he does need backup he’s not sure why he’s asking just him and not the whole team, that seems–

“I need you to look somebody up for me and make sure he’s not, I don’t know, a creep or a supervillain or a supervillain creep,” Kon says, folding his arms and looking a little awkward about it. “Like I don’t care if he’s maybe related to some supervillain creeps or something, that’s whatever, I just care if he’s one. And he’s from Gotham, he said, so I figured it wouldn’t be too much out of your way anyway.” 

Tim blinks. Tilts his head. Is Kon . . .

“His name’s Tim Drake,” Kon says. “Or that’s what he told me his name was, anyway. Again, he might be a supervillain or something, so who knows.” 

Tim . . . blinks. 

“I can do that,” he says, and–because he can’t help himself and also could use the intel anyway–“Why do you think he might be a supervillain?” 

Kon's face turns pink. Just barely, but still noticeably. 

“I just do,” he says, tightening his arms. “Just, uh–I don’t know.” 

Tim may’ve possibly made too many supervillain jokes at the café, he’s realizing. Or maybe he’d just looked too desperately thirsty when Kon had joked about him recruiting him for his evil plans. His plans aren’t even evil, okay, they’re just rational. And his actual recruitment strategy doesn’t have anything to do with anybody wearing a crop top, either! The crop tops were Kon’s idea! 

Still, Kon’s asking him to look up Tim Drake for him, and at least he actually is bothering to look up Tim Drake, so that could be worse. One less point to go over in the superhero stranger danger refresher course. Tim isn’t sure why Kon's only concerned now, but at least he's being careful. 

“Okay,” Tim says, figuring it's not a big deal either way. If Kon's asking him to check himself out, then all he has to do is provide him with just enough information to make him feel comfortable accepting money from him without worrying about who he might be accepting money from. And rent. And clothes and groceries and bills and–

Well, literally everything, ideally. Just, like–literally every single thing he can get Kon to accept, Tim's intending to give him. An apartment or a condo or a freaking house, if that's what Kon wants. Maybe a cul-de-sac, even. Tim's not above buying him a cul-de-sac. It'd take a little extra bank fraud, probably, but that's just more supervillain practice anyway. 

Kon deserves a stupid cul-de-sac, at this point. Kon deserves a whole neighborhood at this point. 

Tim could arrange that, probably. Especially once he's officially a supervillain, but also just like in general. Again, it'd just take a little bit of bank fraud at the most. 

“Thanks,” Kon says, shifting his weight a little anxiously, for some reason. 

“It's no problem,” Tim replies with a shrug. “I mean, it's probably just paranoia, given our propensity to run into supervillains. I wouldn't worry about it “ 

“Whatever,” Kon says with a shrug, looking–bothered, a little. Tim represses a frown, watching him consideringly. 

“You don't think you're being paranoid,” he translates. “Why?” 

“Uh, because . . . people don’t try to just hang out with me, usually,” Kon replies with an uncomfortable shrug, jamming his hands deep into his jacket pockets. “Not like this guy is, I mean. Usually they . . . want something, you know? Like to meet Superman or get in the tabloids or, uh, steal my DNA and make an asshole with a superiority complex out of it. But I don’t know what this guy wants at all. He just paid for my lunch and asked to hang out again. And like, all I did was save his ass from some dumbass robber, so it wasn't like it was a big deal or anything.” 

“Oh,” Tim says. That’s . . . an incredibly depressing answer, okay. Like . . . incredibly depressing. Wow. “Okay. I'll look into him and get back to you.”

“Thanks,” Kon says again, looking restless, then puts on a slightly forced grin. “It's no big, just keeping an eye out for stupid spy shit or weird undercover types, you know how it is.” 

“Yeah,” Tim agrees, watching him for a long moment. The answer is still incredibly depressing. Nothing that Kon has said has made it any less depressing. Actually, it's just kind of making it worse. 

A lot worse. 

“Thanks,” Kon says again, odd and abrupt, and then suddenly zips out of the room. He left Kool-Aid stains on the floor and they're going to get sticky, but Tim is a little bit too distracted to be annoyed by that fact.

Kon's never asked him to look somebody up for him before. They haven't been teammates that long, so that's not a surprise, but it does make Tim wonder who he asks normally. Actually, does he ask anyone normally, or did Tim just fuck up somewhere here and make Kon suspicious enough to ask a favor from a Bat? 

Fuck, he hopes not. That'll make it way harder to convince Kon to let him buy him a cul-de-sac. 

Tim goes back to his previous Kon-related plotting and also takes half an hour to type up a “report” on himself for him. Just the basics, nothing too damning or too invasive or too interesting. Definitely nothing to connect him to Bruce, for obvious reasons. Better safe than sorry and all, since he's decided to take the risk of involving his civilian identity with Kon. 

Honestly, he probably should've used this as a template for Caroline Hill. Put her in a situation and given Kon the opportunity to save her. He probably would've responded better to an older girl than a guy his own age anyway, considering. 

Tim's still surprised Kon responded to Tim Drake at all, considering. But maybe he really does just flirt with every civilian, no matter who he's really attracted to or not. That seems like something Kon would do. 

Really, for all Tim knows, Kon only flirted with Tim Drake to begin with because he didn't know how else to talk to him. 

Actually, considering how few civilian guys he's seen him talk to, that's probably actually true, isn't it.

[chaneajoyyy]

SIR LEWIS HAMILTON FANFICTION

down bad series, forever is a long time series, obesessed with you series, revindicare series, flight rendezvous, bad for you mini series ( with 'where you belong and what happened in hawaii"), try me, daddy's got you, the artn of eating p*ssy, maps, super soaker, safety net, give me besos, full throttle, full throttle extended, cupid's kisses, touch starved, what kinks lewis has, "do i feel good daddy? you like that?", "look at yourself", cockwarming lewis, sinful and unholy thoughts 1&2, anal exploration, picture drabble, picture drabble 2, first time after pregnancy, never too mad at you, marks, case closed, it's been a while- @mauvecherie-writes

plus baby makes three, she calls me daddy now, one night; 1,2,3; if this is love... mini series; a long time coming series, just do it, show me, 4am drunk calls, forever & ever & ever & ever --- but not right now, lil' love, true peace, thirsty or parched series, taste the rainbow, love will remember, anon ask 'imagine... headcanon, forgive me, i am not a sinner mini series (search lewis hamilton fanfiction)- @royallyprincesslilly

i'll teach you, family hair day (search lewis hamilton x reader)- @shaytheeprettiest

, prompt list 8 "you said you wanted to be my friend", prompt list 7 "can you read my essay?", pormpt list 9 "can you pick me up?", it's just us against the world' jealousy, jealousy (search lewis hamilton imagine)-@thisismeracing

between us series (with: when our eyes met, clubbing night, i want you, not your girlfriend, commitment, grenanda, paddock time/paddock queen (2), tension/you got what you wanted/memories, yacht day, carnival days, you could never be me, paris fashion week, abu dhabi, welcome to namibia, halloween party/my little bunny, feels like vegas, welcome home, what are you afraid of? parts 1 and 2, bikini posts, wrong one, more tna a face, unimpressed, no matter how much they want it, i want it more; a part of you, lewis birthday, long distance relationship, confession, world champion, surprising paiama, twins dream, chocolate never tasted that good, family dinner, i know your secret, rovos rail, first red carpet, i wanted to protect you, just you and me, broncos game, pillow talk, friendly- @peyiswriting

cuff it, breaking point series (search: lewis hamilton x black reader)- @hopefulromantic1

instagram au, y/n pregnant headcanon-@words-4u

imagine series- @writinginfinite

the hamilton series- @yourstrulynix

bubble baths; god, i love you, motivate, wildside, we're meant to be, you're all mine, lace fantasy, baby angel, temporary fix/2, mykonos, partition, my champion, dress, the 1 series, purple frosting, baby steps, moments, on his thighs/ 2 (on his tongue), toffee- imthebadguyyy

call it what you want series- l@lew8s

lazy mornings, miami, fighting and making up, love songs, premiere, knight in a black race suit- @theundercoversquid

soft, soulmate shorts series- @itsfeckinwimdy

our cave, collapsing/epilogue, feel so close, freefall, in our humid afternoon, feel its idle hum, til kingdom come, ocean blue, when we're cheek to cheek (i feel it in my teeth), lay all your love on me, lights out, slow show, out your hands on me, between days, only now i see the light, a familiar home, take me back so tenderly, i stand in ruins behind you, both our skin, just the two of us, short form fics (lh)- @lewisyellowhelmet

the final push, matchmaker (search: lewis hamilton x reader)- @justjams2003

getting eloped (search: lewis hamilton)- @venus2eros

expect the unexpected, the best mistake, worth the wait-(search: lewis hamilton imagine)- @pierregas1yx

tiny hands (search lewis hamilton x reader)-@bellinghamilton

untouchable/2, the merc boys (search lewis hamilton)-@yungbludz

good boy- @tamix44

out of time series, acquainted series, professional series, rendezvous series, old flame series, forbidden fruit series, ina another life, miami, how do i make you love me?, the edge, into the nght, teammated, between friends, violet skies, ordinary life, the teacher, la petit mort, wicked games, rescue me, paris, his attention, boy dad, did it work?, our spot, the stranger, you know better, birthday girl, you're mine now, trouble, cabin in the woods-@lostinlewis

anonny ask: parents lewis x reader, anonny ask: breal, anonny asks: teasing, after hours, anonny asks: morning fun, off limits, anonny ask: post wedding s*x, anonny ask: babymaking, anonny asks: possessive!lewis, anonny ask: more than friends, anonny ask: overstimulation-@paradisehamilton

sweet escape series, falling through the cracks (search: lewis hamilton fanfic)- @lvis44

graduation- @saintslewis

antartica, workplace crushes and life lessons, little white lie, living the dream- @formula-hamilton

***IF YOU HAVE LEWIS HAMILTON FICS HIT MY LINE!!!***

[cherienymphe]

Now that I have my weapon of choice again what if I write the filthiest ball slappiest gorilla grip super soaker 3000 Qimir fic ever

[midsummer-semantics]

Hello! I'm Jordan (part of the Jo[e] squad)

- 29 | They/She [MDNI] - Steddie truther 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨 - Multiship: Ronance, Buckingham, Waynny, Nancy/Therapy - I do write/have written for other fandoms but not as often [Harry Potter, 9-1-1, and Marvel] - 🧑🏽‍💻 AO3 - QueenOfSwords1312 - 🐦 Twitter - Shakespeare adaptation and fan studies academics mixed in there

Free-Use Healthcare (aka the Reverse Gloryhole Fic)

The Fool, The World, and Everything In Between (my first big fic)

cherry on my lips (part 1 of Super Soaker Steve Era)

Big Dick Energy™️

sunshine on my face (part 2 of Super Soaker Steve Era)

let me in (part of Sub Eddie Week)

Forehead Kisses (the Reddit story)

We'd rather be six feet under (than be lonely) [aka the Sleep Token Fic]

Steddie On [one-shots that may or may not go together]

Mexican Eddie and Italian Steve

Sub Eddie Week 2024

Super Soaker Steve Era

Steddie Week 2024

Stevie Week 2024

Steddie Angsty August (only on tumblr) [1] [2] [3]

Ongoing WIP: money, fame and fortune (never could compete) [aka The Singing Comp fic; updates sporadically]

Coming September 16th: A Kind of Merry War [for the Steddie Big Bang 2024]

The Universe Must Have Divined This [for the Sapphic Mini Bang 2024]

Coming eventually: A yet-to-be-titled Eddie Munson Big Bang 2025 fic

Schoolyard Crush (aka Preschool Teacher Steve and Single-dad Eddie) [Originally posted as twt threads and cross-posted here; updates sporadically]

Character Study: Tommy Hagan as Iago from Othello

Steddie Angsty August Fics [1] [2] [3]

[mauvecherie-writes]

Guys, I already want to write part three of the Super Soaker series 😭😭🙈🙈

Nobody has said they want it but I’m going to write it anyway 🤣

[kyman4lyfe]

kylussy rose toy fic teehee 🥰🌹

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The Lost Cause prologue, Part V

I'm coming to Minneapolis! Oct 15: Presenting The Internet Con at Moon Palace Books. Oct 16: Keynoting the 26th ACM Conference On Computer-Supported Cooperative Work and Social Computing.

In my upcoming solarpunk novel The Lost Cause (Nov 14), we get an epic struggle between the people doing the repair and care work needed to save our planet and species, and the reactionary wreckers who want to kill the Green New Deal and watch the world burn:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865847/red-team-blues

Amazon refuses to carry my audiobooks, which means that I make my own indie editions and pre-sell them on Kickstarter, along with ebooks and hardcovers. I narrated this one! It came out great! You can back it here:

http://lost-cause.org

This week, I've been serializing the prologue to give you a taste of what you can expect from the book, which Bill McKibben calls "politically perceptive, scientifically sound, and extraordinarily hopeful."

Here's part one:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/06/green-new-deal-fic/#the-first-generation-in-a-century-not-to-fear-the-future

And part two:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/07/met-cute-ugly/#part-ii

And part three:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/09/working-the-refs/#lost-cause-prologue

And part four:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/10/weaponized-interdependence/#super-soaker-full-of-hydrochloric-acid

And now, part five:

Look, I had weeks to go until graduation. I had a life to live. I had stuff to do.

Gramps and his friends would stew and shout. Idiots on the internet would make dank memes out of Mike Kennedy and deepfake him into a million videos, turn him into a main character whose image would be around long after he left the world.

I just had to keep my head down, collect my diploma, and get the hell out of Burbank. I’d already been provisionally accepted for a Blue Helmets AmeriCorps spot down in San Juan Capistrano, helping to rebuild the city’s lower half a mile inland, up in the hills. I was going to do a year of that and then go to college: I had applications in to UCLA, Portland State (they had a really good refugee tech undergrad program), and the University of Waterloo, where my mom did her undergrad in environmental science. They’d let me declare my major in my second year, so I could take a wide variety of courses before settling on something, and if anything, Canada’s free college was even more generous than the UC system or Portland’s, with a subsidy for dorms and meals.

To tell the truth, I’d be glad to go. My senior year hadn’t been anything like I’d anticipated. Gramps’s health had gotten a lot worse the previous summer and his shitty sexist and racist remarks chased away any home help worker Burbank sent over within a week or two, so I’d been trying to keep my grades up while picking up after Gramps, getting him to take his meds, washing his sheets and cleaning his toilet—­not to mention making sure he made his doctor’s appointments and even bringing him into the office a couple of times a month for the kind of exams you couldn’t do by telemedicine.

I wasn’t sure what Gramps would do without me to take care of him, but at that point, I was running out of fucks to give. Let his asshole Maga Club buddies look after him, or maybe Gramps could figure out how not to offend everyone that came over to wipe his ass and do his laundry. He was—­as he was fond of pointing out to me—­a grown-­ass adult, and this was his house, and he was in charge. So let him be in charge.

I put myself to bed stewing about all of this, thinking of San Juan Capistrano. Some of my older friends had graduated the previous years and had gone down there and I’d followed their relocation of the old mission on their feeds. It looked like hot, sweaty, rewarding work, the kind of thing where you could really measure your progress.

For the second night in a row, I was woken up at 2 a.m. This time, it wasn’t my screen, it was Gramps, who’d stumped into my room with his cane, flipped my lights to full on, and started shaking me and calling out, “Get up, kid, get up!”

“I’m up,” I said, getting up on my elbows and squinting at him.

He was shaking, and he reeked—­of both booze and BO, and I felt a flash of guilt for not getting him in the bath that day.

“God dammit,” he said, and staggered a bit. I leapt out of bed, pulling the sheets off with me, and steadied him at the elbow.

“Calm down, okay? What’s going on? Are you all right?”

“No, I’m not all right. No one is all right. Fuck all right and fuck you.” I’d had Gramps tested for early dementia the previous year, by showing his doctor videos of moments like these. The doc had run a battery of tests before pronouncing, “Your grandfather isn’t senile, he’s just ornery.” Which was undeniable, and also pissed me the hell off. “Ornery” was a polite word for “asshole.” What the doc was telling me was that Gramps didn’t have to be cruel. He was cruel by choice.

I untangled myself from the sheets and piled them on the bed.

“What is it?”

“It’s Mike Kennedy, that asshole. Someone shot him.”

“What?”

He shoved his giant screen into my hands. I tapped the video window. It was from the POV of a car cam, that weird fish-­eye view of a self-­driving car, split-­screen with the passenger in the front seat, and it was Mike Kennedy, looking even worse than Gramps, bloodshot and trembling, with that under-­chin camera angle that makes everyone look like they’re half dead.

I tried to watch both halves. There was Kennedy, whispering something to him. There was the cul-­de-­sac he was parked in, false-­lit with IR from the cameras. The timestamp was 1:17. Less than an hour before.

Then the external image flickered for a second and resolved itself into a man, who phased in and out. He was wearing a ghillie suit like the one Kennedy had worn on the roof, covered in telltale CV dazzle stripes, designed to exploit defects in the computer vision system. You had to wear a different specific pattern for every algorithm, but if you got the right matchup, the computer would simply not see you. The man was flickering into existence when his posture crumpled up the ghillie suit and made the pattern stop working, then out again when he straightened up.

He straightened and disappeared and Mike Kennedy’s eyes widened as he noticed the man for the first time—­computer dazzle worked on computers, not humans—­and he started to say something and then a round hole appeared in his forehead, his head snapping back against the headrest, then careening forward. The flickering phantom appeared again as the man in the ghillie suit turned and disappeared.

I dropped the tablet to my bed.

“Jesus Christ, Gramps, I didn’t need to see that snuff movie—­”

He tried to smack me then. I was ready for it. I was faster. I stepped out of his reach. I was shaking too.

“You don’t get to hit me anymore old man. Never again, you hear me?”

He was purpling now, and a decade’s worth of fleeing and defusing his rages rose in me, made me want to apologize. After all, I rationalized, he’d just seen a friend murdered.

But I’d seen that friend murdered too, videobombed with a snuff flick at 2 a.m. without warning or consent. It was a traumatizing, selfish, asshole move. I’d be watching that movie on the backs of my eyelids for years to come. And the friend who’d died? He’d been ready to kill me. Gramps had no right. He was a grown-­ass adult. He had no right.

“Listen to me, you little shit, you think you can live under my roof, take my charity, and talk to me like that? Now? With all the shit that I’m going through? No sir. No. Get out, you little bastard, get out now. Get out before I kick your goddamned teeth in.” He was vibrating with rage now, literally, actually shaking so hard his wispy hair swished back and forth across his forehead.

I didn’t say another word. I picked up some jeans and a jacket, put a pair of socks in a jacket pocket, and jammed my feet into a pair of sneakers without bothering to unlace them. I shouldered past him—­still vibrating, stinking even worse—­and banged out the back door and stomped through the nighttime streets.

My feet automatically took me up to Verdugo, and then across the empty road. I turned toward school—­as I did every morning—­and autopiloted in that direction. By the time I reached the Verdugo Aquatic Facility I had calmed down enough to realize that there was no reason to go to school at two thirty in the morning, so I stopped and headed for the playground in the park behind the pool. I sat down on a bench and kicked my shoes off and shook out the playground sand, pulled out my socks and put them on, then put my shoes back on properly. I was still furious, but now I could think straight and my hands weren’t shaking. Gramps and I hadn’t had a blowup like that in years, mostly—­ okay, entirely—­because I’d backed down every time we’d been headed in that direction. I wasn’t in any mood to back down. Not ever, to be fully honest.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/11/equal-opportunity-class-war/#part-v

My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!

[rayslittlekitten]

Captain and the Siren

“Dad Will” Masterlist

A/N: So, I had wanted to do a lighter and playful and more sensual fic with some of the elements I used in "Cooling Off" with Will (water gun play, sundress, chasing). I had a general idea of where I wanted it to go and then it got away from me and kinda wrote itself. It became something a little more and I actually love how this came out. Thank you @carni-val for looking at this, as always! 💖 It's about time Will and his wife get some sexy times.

Rating: E (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 3,245

Pairing: Dad!Will "Ironhead" Miller x Wife F!Reader

Plot: A spontaneous water gun fight leads to your husband appreciating and loving your body.

Contains: silliness, laundry room love making (P in V), masturbation (F), banter, fluff, water gun play, chasing, sundress, roleplaying, body insecurities (alluding more towards aging and having bear children), body appreciation, comfort, a little biting, binding, stripping

Will thought he was going to have a low key Sunday, seeing as Lucy is spending yet another day in the pool, but luckily this time, it is at her friend's house. He'll make a mental note to send a fruit basket or something to their parents knowing what kind of mess her and her friends are probably going to leave and he's looking right at it. He knows Lucy was taught better. To be fair, the pool accessories are in the pool where they're meant to be. The unicorn float, pool noodles, inflatable balls all bobbing on the surface of the chlorine water, but Lucy knows better to put them away when she's not using them, especially the water guns and other toys which her and her friends left strewn around the pool and lounge chairs. He likes organization. At least she didn't leave any wet towels balled up.

Will starts to pick up the toys and puts them back where they should be after rinsing them off in the pool. He scoops up a super soaker and feels the weight of the water that’s still in it. As he's about to empty it out into the pool, he gets interrupted when you call out to him. He turns his body towards where you're standing, in the frame of the sliding patio door.

"Whoa! Don't shoot me! I just wanted to ask if you want a sandwich. I'm making lunch," you tell him with your hands up.

Will looks down at the water gun and then back to you, making the connection. A smirk slowly plays on his face and you shoot back a look of warning.

"You wouldn't dare," you tell him.

He pumps the water gun once and a stream of water lands by your feet, making you squeal and jump back into the safety of your house.

"Come on, this is a new dress!" you giggle.

You've been feeling self-conscious lately about how gravity and time has slowly transformed your body so you splurged on a cute floral sundress the other day that looked flattering on you. With the hem hitting just a few inches above your knees, it is long enough to be modest, but also short enough to be a bit sassy, the flowy skirt bouncing with each step you take. The V-neckline teases just the top of your breasts, but undoing the top button or two could turn it into a sexy little number. Today seemed like a nice day to show it off, but you would have thought twice about wearing it if you knew you were getting into a water gun fight with your husband.

"It's a cute dress on you," Will compliments.

"Thank you!" You smile and do a little twirl.

“But I think it could use some finishing touches," Will adds, throwing the gun strap over his head and shoulder as he slowly inches towards you.

You squeal again and take off running when Will starts moving quickly towards you. You sprint through the house, looking for a place to hide. You scream when you feel cold water hit the back of your leg but you keep moving, weaving in and out of rooms as Will chases after you. When you find yourself in the living room, you try to use the furniture as a barrier. The puke green and neon yellow and orange gun in his hands is aimed at you, ready to squirt.

"NOT in here. These couches are suede," you warn him.

"Okay, fair." Will eases the gun and points it down at the ground.

You cautiously walk away, watching him as you slowly make your way out from behind the couch. When you see a path out, Will starts inching closer to you so you take off running again and as expected, he is on your heels. You know he's holding back because he can outrun you any day, especially with those long legs of his. You end up running into the laundry room and realize it's a mistake. You're cornered with nowhere to go. There isn't even anything to hide behind. Defeated, you quickly turn to face Will with your hands in the air.

“Okay, okay you got me!” You say after taking a few seconds to catch your breath. “Just don’t shoot me!”

"What would be the fun in that?" Will aims the water gun at you and just as he's about to squeeze the trigger, you hold your hands out and rattle off the first words that come to mind.

"Wait, wait! No, no, I'll do anything!" you giggle.

Will lowers the toy gun and tilts his head to the side in confusion.

"What do you mean you'll do anything?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Well..." you shrug, inadvertently causing a strap to slip off your shoulder. "What if I can offer you something in return for my freedom?" Your fingers play around with the button at the top of your dress that's sitting right above your cleavage. "Captain?"

Will licks his lips as his eyes focus on your chest.

"Well, what are you offering?" he asks, intrigued by this turn of event.

"I can... offer myself," you reply as you step closer to him. "I can be your little whore."

"Hm, I don't like that word. Too degrading," he scrunches his nose. “Wench?”

“Okay, when I said ‘Captain’, I didn’t mean like, of a pirate ship,” you shoot back with your hand on your hip popped to the side, pulling a laugh from Will.

"Well, I can be whatever you want me to be,” you add, jumping back into your role, slipping your hands over his chest and sliding them up to the back of his neck, hooking your fingers together while waiting for his response.

"Hm, it does sound pretty tempting," Will says, pretending to consider the offer. “How desperate are you?” he teases as he tries to peek down the front of your dress.

"I'm very desperate." You lean in to kiss him, but he jerks his head away. You try again, but he moves away again. The smirk on his face tells you he's enjoying this very much.

"So, anything, huh?" Will asks as he backs you up against the washing machine.

"Uh huh," you nod. "Anything you please, sir."

Will lets out a groan as he presses himself against you. You bite your lower lip, feeling his rock hard erection.

"Open up your dress," he nods his chin at your body, taking a step back to watch you.

You hesitate at first, feeling a little shy, but you start at the top button and slowly make your way down, taking your time to let him enjoy the show, until you finally get to the last one. You stand there, waiting for his next command.

"Get on top of the washing machine," he pats the top of the appliance.

You hoist yourself up and get comfortable. Will uses the tip of the water gun to open your dress up, admiring the view in front of him.

"No bra? Mm," he groans as he glances at your breasts hanging freely.

His eyes travel below your waist and the gun follows, pausing between your inner thighs before gesturing your legs open further with the tip of the gun. You bring your arms back to support yourself as you lean back and spread your legs. Your dress falls open even wider, showing yourself to him. You're grateful for the dimly lit room, only being illuminated by the narrow stream of sunlight coming from a small window.

"I want you to touch yourself.”

You reach your hand down between your legs to tease yourself with your fingers at first, gently grazing the tips along the cotton-covered slit. Your husband's eyes are glued to your sweet spot. It feels like it's been a long time since you've both been able to have some spontaneous fun like this without any interruptions or obligations. You let a quiet moan slip out when you drag your finger over your clit. You close your eyes and roll your head to the side as you increase the pressure and focus on a spot that's lighting up your core.

"You look so fucking hot right now," Will whispers as he continues to watch you pleasure yourself.

Feeling a bit more confident, you shift your position to slide your hand into the front of your panties, causing the other strap to fall off your other shoulder, completely exposing your body, with the exception of your underwear. He steps into the space between your legs, leaving the gun hanging behind him before grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him. You continue to touch yourself, slipping a finger inside, while maintaining eye contact with him. He leans in and captures your mouth with his own, kissing you like it's his first time with you. The two of you make out for a few moments, teasing each other with tongues and nibbles. You can hear him breathing deeply through his nose as he devours you. His whiskers are tickling your face, but it's something you're used to.

Will finally pulls away for some air, but keeps close, your noses bumping. You pull your hand out from your panties and slip your fingers into his wet mouth. He swirls his tongue around them and gently sucks on them as you slowly pull them out of his mouth with a pop.

"Mm, I love the way you taste," Will licks his lips, then leaves a quick peck on your lips.

He reaches underneath your dress and hooks his fingers to the sides of your panties and then pulls them down, dragging them over your hips. You shift yourself to help him remove them and he slides them down your smooth legs. He carelessly tosses them aside, not caring where they land, then steps back into the space between your legs. You bite your lower lip, anticipating his next move.

One of his hands reaches up to cup your face and he leans in to kiss you again. This time it's more intentional, taking his time to savor the moment. He's kissing you like he did on your wedding day. Passionate, yet not rushed. Just his soft lips gently and tenderly caressing yours, feeling his love translate through his affection. You moan into his mouth when you feel his other hand kneading one of your breasts as his thumb flicks your nipple. Your hand reaches down into his tenting basketball shorts, but Will grabs your wrist and breaks the kiss.

“Hey! Who said you can touch me?”

"Sorry, I didn't know I needed permission to touch my husband," you reply.

"Am I your husband or your captor?" Will asks, taking your wrists and pinning them behind you.

"I'm sorry, Captain," you apologize with a wide smile playing on your face.

He stares at you for a moment, seeing the gears in his head moving, before releasing your wrists.

"Don't move."

You stay put as you watch him disappear below the washing machine, but come back with your panties in his hand. He reaches behind you again and ties your wrists together with your underwear. You're happy to see him really having fun with this.

"So your hands don't go wandering while I... plunder and pillage... your village," Will sputters and you burst out laughing right along with him.

"Are-are you a Viking now?" you ask, your words slipping in between snorts which makes Will laugh even harder. You lean into Will, your head resting on his shoulder as you continue to crack up.

"I-I don't know what I'm doing," Will says as he recovers from his laughing fit. "I can't even really see what I'm doing." He reaches for the light switch and you retreat, wincing when the room is lit up, highlighting all the parts of your body you've been feeling insecure about.

"What's the matter?" he asks, turning his attention back to you.

"I..." You try to make yourself smaller, turning and shifting your body with your limitations. "I'm feeling a little shy about my body," you admit.

"Why's that?" he asks curiously.

"Well, you know, things aren’t as perky anymore," you shrug. "And--"

"Let me stop you right there," Will cuts you off. He places both of his hands on each side of your hips, closing you in. "I don't know what or who put those thoughts into your head, but you are just as gorgeous as the first time I laid my eyes on you. Sure, your body has changed - as has mine. I mean..." He pinches a handful of his midsection where he once had a six-pack. “I’m no spring chicken anymore.”

"But it doesn't make it any less beautiful. In fact..." Will leans in, nudging his nose against the side of your neck while inhaling your scent.

"Every transformation..." He kisses your neck.

"Is just a testament..." He works his way down to your collar bone and plants a kiss there as well.

"Every swell..." Moving lower, he runs the tip of his tongue up the valley between your breasts.  

"Every shrink..." He then drags his tongue across and down each breast. You stifle a moan when you feel him flicking your nipples as he passes over them.

"Every dip..." Continuing his path, he leaves a trail of kisses down your torso. "Every curve, every stretch..."

He gives your belly a little more attention than he had with your other body parts.

“Every dent, every bump…” His lips bring attention to the apex where your legs and crotch meet.

"Every mark, every scar..." He settles between your legs and playfully bites your inner thigh, causing you to giggle.

"To what your miraculous body has endured in your life journey.” He places a tender kiss where he bit you.

“Including creating life and nurturing it. And that actually makes you so much more beautiful and sexy." He looks up at you with so much sincerity, you can’t help but melt, feeling your chest suddenly get so full.

“Babe, you’re gonna make me cry,” you pout.

“They’re tears of joy I hope,” Will smiles. He stands up and kisses your forehead.

“I’ll always want you,” he says. “No matter how much your body changes, no matter how old you get. Even when my dick stops working," he chuckles and you let out a chortle.

"You know, they got pills for that kinda stuff now," you throw in, softening the mood.

"Well, until that day comes, I got all I need right in front of me." Will grabs your hips and pulls you closer to him. "You're not a wench. You're a saucy siren and I'm gonna ravage you now."

You bust out laughing again, but he cuts you off when he slots his mouth over yours. He kneads your ass and then runs his palms up your sides, gripping your waist. Reaching down, he pulls his semi-hard cock out of his shorts and jerks himself to full mast. He briefly breaks from the kiss to align himself with you at the edge of the washing machine. Gently, he pushes into you, feeling your body tense up and relax under his touch as he goes in further. He pulls back out and slams right back into you, making you groan. Once again, he slowly withdraws himself and then buries himself inside you. You let out a gasp as he continues to push himself to the hilt, filling you up.

"Am I hurting you?" Will asks, stilling his hips.

"No," you shake your head.

"Are you comfortable?" he checks.

"Mm hm," you moan as you nod your head.

"Good." With one hand gripping your waist and the other on your hip, he pounds into, holding on to you so you don't fall over.

With your bound hands behind you, you balance yourself on the washing machine and tilt your hips to get a better angle. He watches your face contort as he alternates between giving you short and long strokes, teasing and toying with you.

"Will..." you grunt.

"Shh, just focus on the feeling." He brings a hand down between the two of you and works his thumb over your clit in small circles.

Your hips jerk when you feel the pressure of his finger massaging you, but his pacing doesn't change. It feels like torture, the way he's dragging out the pleasure. Just enough stimulation to spark something, but not enough to ignite it. He knows all the ways to play with your body until you lose your mind and beg for mercy.

"Please..." You pant, wrapping your legs around his hips and pull him in closer, needing relief.

"I've got you, baby."

Will wraps his arms around your torso and draws you in, holding you close to his chest. Your legs tighten their grip, not caring that the water gun is digging into your skin, as he pumps into you harder and faster. You want to be as close to him as you physically can. He's stroking you in all the right places, and you feel the familiar warmth spreading through your lower belly.

Your sweet moans and pants are music to his ears; Your enchanting songs entice him more and more as he slips deeper into you, punching up into you. Will leans his forehead against yours as he continues to move in and out of you like he wants to bury himself inside of you.

"God, you feel so fucking good," he breathes out.

Seeing Will's lust-filled eyes tells you he's close, but he suddenly pulls out, confusing you. He hooks his arms under your knees and grabs a hold of each side of your hips, spreading you wider. Thankfully having your arms behind you prevented you from falling back.

He slams himself back into you and you immediately feel him hitting some sensitive spots inside you from this deeper angle. He's determined and giving all he's got, to the point you're pretty sure he nudged the washing machine.

Without warning, your orgasm blooms and you're feeling dizzy. It's like firecrackers on the Fourth of July going through your body. You cry out as your walls continue to squeeze him over and over again, with each stroke intensifying your release. Moments later, Will lets out a moan as his hips stutter while spilling himself inside of you.

Will falls on top of you as he catches his breath, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You shudder feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. You feel his hand caressing your ribs as he pushes himself up, relieving you from his weight. He looks down at you with a super wide grin.

"I love you, baby."

"I love you too," you shoot back, staring up into his crystal blue eyes.

"Come on, let's have some lunch." He pecks the tip of your nose.

After pulling out of you, he helps you up and unties you. You hop off the washing machine and after the two of you put your clothes back, he steps aside to let you go ahead of him.

"After you, m’lady.”

You chuckle and walk out through the door and as you exit the laundry room, you shriek when you feel a stream of cold water hit your back. You quickly turn around and as expected, you find Will wielding the water gun.

“You had to see that coming,” Will shrugs.

[princessmisery666]

Made up title: Us vs. them

Bucky Barnes x Reader. Sam Wilson makes a guest appearance. Fluff.

“Are you ready?” Bucky asks, tucking a gun into his waistband.

“Ready,” you nod, checking your ammo level.

“This isn’t how I expected this day to go,” he sighs, regretful, “I’m sorry, doll.”

Despite the circumstances, the term of endearment never fails to send a rush of heat through your body and from his menacing smirk, he knows it. But now isn’t the time, there’s a mission to accomplish.

“It’s okay.” You shrug, “I’ve had worse days.”

“Any time spent with you is always a good day.” He smiles, sweet and light, dipping down to kiss you.

You pull back before it goes too far. “Focus,” you chastise, licking his taste from your lips.

“Sorry, you’re right,” he agrees, standing straight and looking very serious. “It’s just you and me, Sam’s down.” Sam’s gun jammed and he had to retreat, rather than be a defenceless target.

 You shake out the tension in your arms. “We got this.”

“Us versus them,” Bucky says, confidence making his smile grow wider, “I like those odds.”

“On three?”

Bucky grabs his pump action. “On three.”

Simultaneously you take a deep breath and exhale together, “Three.”

Bucky runs round the corner of the house, you follow and drop to a knee, laying down cover fire. He charges toward the target, but it’s suspiciously unguarded.

“It’s a trap!” You yell.

But it’s too late. AJ, Cass and their friends burst from behind trees and barrels, surrounding Bucky, relentlessly blasting him with streams of water.

“I’m out,” AJ calls, “cover me!” He darts away to the bucket to refill his super soaker, a friend following to watch his back. A smart tactic their Uncle must have taught them.

You have to do something. You have to help Bucky. But it’s too adorable watching him laugh and chase after the kids when they manage to get him in the face.

“Gonna save your boy?” Sam asks, coming up beside you.

“Nah,” you scoff, “he’s got them on the ropes. Just waiting to make his move.” He did not in fact have them on the ropes. He was on his knees, a tight circle of kids trapping him inside while they shot him with spurts of water, all laughing hysterically.

Sam chuckles. “It’s good to see him let loose. Y’know, in a healthy non murderer way.”

“Way to ruin the moment, Wilson,” you snicker, shaking your head.

“Y/N,” Bucky calls, “help me!”

You make a mad dash for the t-shirt flag, staked to the ground and completely unguarded, but at the last second you divert and rush to join the kids mission of drowning Bucky on land. 

“Argh!” Bucky bellows, as your line of water hits his chest dead centre. “A double cross.” The laughter drops from his face and everyone freezes. 

Menacingly Bucky looks at each person in turn, slowly turning his head and when his eyes finally land on yours his expression is dangerous. The smallest of smirks curls his lips, and shaking off the water, he rolls his vibranium arm, “Run!”

Send me a made up fic title and I will tell you what I’d write for it.

Find more drabbles like this here.

[kmp78]

"Pokey? What are we 12? For adult women .. who the fuck calls a d*ck pokey?"

Anon doesn't like what we're currently calling Jared's penis, sorry, dick. Here are some other options they might approve of:

Anaconda, appendage, baby maker, baguette, banana, baton, big boy, bobbin, bone, boner, bratwurst, bulge, burrito, butt dart, cane, cannoli, captain winky, carrot, chub, chubby, clit stick, club, cobra, cock, commander, corn dog, corporal, cucumber, custard launcher, D, dagger, danger noodle, deep sea diver, ding dong, dipstick, dong, firehose, gherkin, hammer, hard-on, heat seeking missile, hercules, hoo-ha, hotdog, jackhammer, jawbreaker, jimmy, jizz launcher, johnson, joystick, junior, junk, knob, lady-pleaser, length, lightning rod, log, lollipop, long john, longfellow, magic stick, magic wand, manhood, meat stick, member, Mr. Happy, mushroom, organ, package, pecker, pee pee, peen, piece, pleasure stick, pocket rocket, pogo stick, prick, private, python, rod, sausage, schlong, screwdriver, secret weapon, snake, spear, squirt gun, staff, stallion, stiffie, stud, submarine, super soaker, tallywhacker, thingy, third leg, thrill drill, throbber, thunderbolt, tickle pickle, titan, tool, tree trunk, tri-pod, turkey baster, unit, unmentionable, valiant vein, velvet sword, volcano, wang, warrior, weapon, wee wee, weiner, wenus, willy, wingman, winky, wishbone, wood, woody, worm, yard stick, yule log, zeppelin, and zucchini.

Man, with soo many choices, maybe I SHOULD look into doing fan fic! 🤭🤭

CAPTAIN WINKY!!!!! 😂😂😂

I'm keeping that one. ✔️

[yastaghr]

WIP Wednesday: Will the return stick edition (26 Apr 2023)

Hi! So, going to be trying to do this again, as I am writing, just not fast. Or, more accurately, not fast and all on the same fic. Sometimes inspiration is a super soaker, and sometimes it is a broken sprinkler.

Anyway! Today's preview is from Dust in the Pure White Snow (link below as well in case the hellsite/internet decides to be weird).

So! Without further ado, most of which I was planning to put down here instead of up there but shh you can now see the snippet below!