#I'm late but happy birthday baby!🎉

[the-hole-in-terzos-shoe]

Call Me, Little Sunshine

For my Best Ghestie @mustluvecho 's BIRTHDAY!!!!! Everyone wish her a happy birthday even though I'm posting this hella late in the day! ❤️🎉🎂🎈💝💋🥰

Demon!Papa x GN!Reader

It's a bit Copia coded for my bestie Echo, but could be read as any Papa. Let me know which one you prefer to read it as 😉

TW: abusive boyfriend (mostly verbal, cussing, but he does push Reader at one point, and slam a door), demon stuff, haunting, night terrors, scratches on Reader's body, scary imagery, some light SMUT, MDNI, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.9k

EDIT: I wanted to add my bestie's amazing artwork!!!! She really beautifully captured the vibe I was going for 🥰

Please like and reblog her artworks for this fic here and here!

At first it started small: rapping on the window, a creaky door, faucets emanating a strange sulfuric odor. Typical household problems, you shrugged it off... But now there were other things happening, unexplainable things. The smoky apparition that you'd see out of the corner of your eye, always just out of sight; the claw marks on your back and legs; and the ice cold breath you feel at the back of your neck have you convinced that something is out to get you.

Having just moved in with your boyfriend of only a year, you sit in the kitchen one night unpacking dishes so you wouldn't have to eat off paper plates like you had the last few weeks. Maybe settling into the house would make these crazy illusions go away.

𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺. That's what your boyfriend calls all the things you see and feel and hear. But you don't feel crazy, and it feels real when you lie frozen in horror, watching the dark figure with tall golden horns and one glowing white eye stare at you from the foot of your bed. Sometimes it even dares to reach for you, perhaps if only you make your pounding heart jump up to your ears.

You're not sure what this thing is or why it's chosen 𝘺𝘰𝘶 to taunt... or to haunt, you don't really know. But your nights often end with you falling asleep from sheer exhaustion from the terror you feel as this entity makes itself more and more known.

"Fuck, baby, you've gotta get some help. These hallucinations are getting to be a bit too much for you to take, huh?" He says as you sob into your pillow in the early hours of the morning. Little did he know, at least to you, it was no hallucination. That 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 had grabbed your foot, pulling you harshly from your slumber as you flailed and screamed to stay on the bed.

You're snapped out of your thoughts by a plate crashing to the floor at least a meter away from the table where it had been sitting. You jump up and shriek, half from shock, half in frustration.

"Dammit, babe, you can't be such a ditz! We payed a lot of money for you to go around being careless with the dishes," your boyfriend scolds you.

"At least I was trying to unpack," you argue, voice small.

"What was that?" The look on his face turns dark, as he approaches you again.

"I'm- I'm just trying to help," you squeak. Really you felt like it was the least you could do; you'd had a lot of trouble finding a job since moving out here, so you just try to help around the house as much as possible.

"Don't bother!" he shouts, shoving you back against the kitchen counter, "Especially if you're just gonna break shit!"

As you squeeze your eyes shut, cowering away from your boyfriend's outburst, you feel it: the now familiar ice cold breath right next to your ear. A sensation comes over you that almost feels like a hug, protective. Then, loudly, and without warning, all the cabinets in the kitchen burst open as a loud growl rips through the room!

You drop to your knees out of instinct, and the fear-filled tears start to flow. "What the fuck?! You crazy bitch!" your boyfriend cusses at you before storming out of the room. Of course he would blame it on you... A completely unexplainable event, and it's somehow your fault.

Unable to muster the concern to clean the kitchen, you just drag yourself up the stairs, heading to bed early for the night. At least you'll have a long time alone since you know your boyfriend will be up late into the night playing video games and yelling with his friends.

𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶?

Lying there in the darkness save for some moonlight spilling in from outside, you can't help the feeling of guilt that overcomes your mind. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘸𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦? 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘣? 𝘐 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘧𝘧, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵? 𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦... 𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴.

As you clutch your pillow to your chest, resting on your side in the fetal position, you fight back the tears once again. You can't wrap your head around all this--it seems like your whole world has been turned upside down and you hardly recognize the man you thought you were in love with.

Softly at first, you feel something touch you, like fingers sliding up your side. Automatically, you freeze, unable to fight off this entity that's been bothering you. Next, that hand slides down your thigh. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥? It certainly feels like one, five fingertips caressing you almost... sensually?

Climbing back up your thigh, this apparition grips your hip as you hear a sigh just over your shoulder. Then, you feel lips at your ear as claws dig into the flesh of your backside, not hard enough to hurt, but just right. An involuntary whimper leaves you as you feel yourself giving into this demon. You have to be hallucinating, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥? It feels just like someone pressed up behind you as hands roam your body bringing you--dare you say it?--pleasure.

𝘍𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰

Your whole body feels so warm, you could be on fire, but a special kind of heat settles between your legs. Hearing a deep rumble of a moan, you turn your head as much as your muscles will allow, seemingly still frozen to the spot; out of the corner of your eye, you make out the tall golden horns as the figure presses soft kisses to your jaw.

Breathing deeply, he stops, moving to hover above you. In the dark room, you can't see much besides the glimmer of gold metal, the silhouette of his form, a skeletal face, and that glowing white eye. He stares into your eyes, as if asking for permission, and when you continue to stare back, his hand starts to snake down to give you attention where you need it most.

Grunting and grinding your hips up against his fingers, you call out for him, "Papa..." You're not even sure how you know what to call him.

Suddenly, he turns his head as the door creaks open, and in an instant, he's gone, fading away like a fog.

Waking with a gasp, you find you're still on your side cuddling your pillow.

"Hey, it's okay," your boyfriend cooes, "it's just me. Go back to sleep." He comes over and pets your hair as you get your bearings straight.

𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳...

Your boyfriend climbs in bed, throwing an arm over you and giving you a peck on the forehead, "Goodnight, babe."

𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴, you think, as he drifts off, and you try to ingore the throbbing at your core.

• • •

The next time this presence--Papa--makes itself known, is when you're entering your room. It's broad daylight outside and all you can make out is a faint gray mist as you're slammed back against the door, the wood rattling loudly in the frame. But before you can freeze up from fright, your eyes flutter closed and a soft sigh leaves your chest as you feel the distinct peppering of kisses across the pulse points of your neck. It's a harsh juxtaposition to the way your boyfriend pushes you around.

Without realizing it, your hands are pinned in place as a haze of lust washes over you, and were it not for the entity bringing you immense and sudden satisfaction, you'd probably be aware of how crazy you look pinned to the door by seemingly nothing.

For the first time, you reach out, allowing yourself a touch. Your fingers are met with a clothed torso. Your run your digits down the buttons on his shirt, stopping at the bottom when his breath hitches as you slip under to tease the skin.

𝘓𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺

𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶��𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘦?

Slowly opening your eyes, you're finally met with the sight of him. At first, you almost don't recognize him as the figure that's been haunting you every night for months. The striking black and white skull visage is unfamiliar to you, yet the horns and white eye, glowing even in the day time, give it away as him.

"Papa?" You properly meet his eyes for the first time; the left a ghastly pale, and the right a warm golden green. Softly, you brush your fingertips across his cheek, hardly able to believe he's real.

"Yes, my child?" He asks warmly, arms still embracing you.

Without another word, you lean up, pressing your lips softly to his. He returns the sentiment with a kiss so sweet, so seemingly full of emotion, you feel tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. As you sigh into the kiss, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips, cupping the back of your head to keep you in place. With him, you know if you wanted to pull away, he would let you--but you don't want to.

And you know you should feel guilty about your boyfriend in the next room, but you don't. He had proven time and time again that 𝘩𝘦 was the real horror in this house. So much so that he'd driven you into the arms of a demon.

You feel safer with some creature from hell than you do with your own boyfriend.

As if (ironically) summoned, here he comes, banging on the door to bitch about something else. "Babe! What are you doing in there? What all that moan-"

*SLAM!*

When he pushed the door open, a sharp burst of wind closes it again. Papa simply chuckles and looks down at you; it must've been him that closed the entryway.

Before you can ask, the door flies open again, doorknob slamming into the wall, "What the fuck was that?!" The man screams, locking eyes with you and then with the eccentric looking individual on your arm, "And 𝘸𝘩𝘰 the fuck is 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵?!?!"

𝘌𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘺

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺

"Call me Mephistopheles. Or your worst nightmare, whichever you can actually pronounce," Papa speaks up. "Now, get away from her, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥, or I 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 make you regret it."

"Oh yeah? What's some loser in a cheap Halloween costume gonna do, huh?" your boyfriend retorts.

Rather than waste another breath on this loser, the demon transforms into, well... a demon: hoofed feet, black claws, fiery eyes, and all. What sounds like a choir of screeching tortured souls rings out, causing you to grimace and clap your hands over your ears.

After what feels like forever but was surely only seconds, the sound ceases, and when you open your eyes, your boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

"Is-is he gone?" Your voice cracks, as your body folds against Papa's chest.

He catches you in another embrace, this time dark ashen black leathery wings cocooning around the two of you. "You won't ever have to worry about him again, amore."

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦.

#tw #tw abuse #abusiveboyfriend #tw yelling #tw cussing #tw violence #the band ghost #ghost band #copia #papa emeritus iv #papa iv #papa emeritus iii #papa iii #terzo #shitghosting #secondo #primo #papa ii #papa i #papa 3 #ghost fandom #ghost fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #drabble #oneshot #horror #happy birthday #MDNI #18+ only

[pastafossa]

Happy Birthday and a merry 6 years to TRT! 🎂 🎁 🎈 🎉 🍰

🕯 🕯 🕯 🕯 🕯 🕯

Some FUN TRIVIA FACTS:

TRT's sun sign is VIRGO and its moon sign is LEO!

After 6 years, its current wordcount is 932k words. If you put that in size 12 arial font, single-spaced, this would come to about 2000 pages, and even more if the pages were the usual mass market paperback size!

TRT is now 40 in cat years!

The Man in the White Coat is my tribute to the Mad Scientist trope common in scifi, which is one of my favorite genres!

It is old enough developmentally to tie its shoes! Keep going, TRT!

Ciro is partially inspired by John Marcone from The Dresden Files!

TRT shares a birthday with literary great Agatha Christie! Maybe I'll introduce poison-based murder into the fic in her honor...

The idea of seeing threads came to me after seeing a meme about red threads tying soul mates together. Everything that came after - the other threads, the thread world, how it works, is unique to TRT!

TRT is now longer than War and Peace, and Crime and Punishment combined! So if you've read all of TRT so far, then you have the perfect middle finger to anyone who tries to say you can't focus on longer stories!

The inciting penguin documentary that Foggy drunkenly watched (which led to him declaring Matt and Jane 'penguins') was about Adelie penguins specifically!

Jane has a leather jacket because I love leather jackets and think all badass characters should have a leather jacket! And so you should you! EVERYONE DESERVES A COOL LEATHER JACKET.

The long hiatus between Chapter 4 and Chapter 5 was because I had life things pop up. During that hiatus, I realized the plotline/ending needed some work, so I spent those two years outlining, and I also wound up doing a bunch of additional novel writing classes just because I wanted to learn. A lot of this wound up influencing TRT!

The grey threads are one of the only threads that no one has solved yet!

There are absolutely some bad people working for Cyrus James. There is also a guy named Kyle. He is there not for Evil Purposes (tm) but instead because this was the only place he could work that would allow him to pay off his student loans.

When I started TRT, I thought maybe 5 people total would read it. I was told five people total would read it by some shitty people. So I wrote it expecting five total people would read it, and told myself at least I'd enjoy it, and I could use it to learn. In other words: I had ZERO idea TRT would take off like this. None. Nada. Zip. AND LOOK AT US NOW, BABY. FUCK THE HATERS, 6 YEARS AND GOIN' STRONG.

Based on my outline, we're a bit over halfway to the end!

I hope you enjoyed these TRT funfacts. And I hope you know: this fic isn't just me. It's you, too. This fic has become so much larger than just me. It's the TRT playlist you've sent songs in for that keeps me inspired when writing. It's the fanart I look at to give me a boost. It's your sweet comments and likes and kudos and messages that encourage me when I'm sick or depressed. It's the people who've made friends over this fic, or who've been inspired to write fic themselves, adding beautiful works to the community that we all use to keep going. It's all of this love for both TRT and Matt, and I'm so happy that I've been able to contribute in at least a small way in keeping Charlie!Daredevil love alive even after the show's been gone for years now. I love you all so, so goddamn much. I love this fandom. I love TRT with all my heart. Thank you so much for being a part of these past six years through cancelations, through your high school and college years and beyond, through my ups and downs of moving and sickness and fiberglass and pandemic craziness, through late night chapter drops and wild twists and turns.

And I hope the next few years as we enter the second half of this story are just as amazing!

#the red thread

[stevesbipanic]

Dedicated to the lovely Lex @thefreakandthehair Happy Birthday 🎉😊❤️

Eddie was terrified.

This wasn't something new persay. Eddie was scared of a lot of things; maths tests, gym class, checkouts, bus timetables and interdimensional monsters. This was a new kind of fear.

"You'll be fine, kid. I've seen the way that boy looks at you."

"What if I mess it up, I've never been on a date, Wayne."

"Son, you could fall on your face in a pile of cow dung and Steve would still look at you like ya hung the damn moon."

Eddie smiled, fears not completely quelled but settled enough at the thought of Steve's smile. Eddie barely had time to finish tying his shoes before he heard the familiar crunch of gravel outside. He opened the door to see Steve getting out of his car, hair meticulously coiffed, jeans ironed and shirt hugging him perfectly.

"Sorry I'm late sweetheart."

"Hey, that's my line," Eddie said smiling shyly as he made his way to Steve.

"Think I deserve to call you sweet names for a bit too, after all you've gotten to call me sweetheart, angel, big boy, hot stuff, sweetcheeks, princes–"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, can't help myself, baby."

Steve blushed softly, "Will have to add that one to the list."

"I've got plenty more, sweetheart, and we've got all night to hear them."

"There's something I don't think I'll be able to wait all night for," Steve said taking Eddie's face in his hand, Eddie unconsciously leaning into it.

"What's that, angel?"

"This," Steve whispers, almost as nervous as Eddie had felt in the trailer, as he leans in and connects their lips. Eddie smiled into the kiss, the last of his nerves melting away. Steve was here for him, Steve wanted him and as long as that stayed true Eddie would never worry again.

"Don't think I could've waited either, Stevie."

Inside, Wayne shook his head as he listened to the car pull back out of the trailer park.

"Like he hung the damn moon."

#happy birthday lex #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #st4 #steddie #stranger things season 4 #ficlet #fluff #wayne munson #first date

[webbo0]

The Rumble of the Engine

Luke Glanton x AFAB!Reader

Length: 5k words (longest yet!)

Summary: You tease Luke on his beloved Motorcycle, he returns the "favor"

Content/Warning: NSFW!! Teasing, Groping, Fingering, Cunnilingus, Handjob (kinda?), slight Dom/Sub dynamics (?), Smoking (it's Luke so obviously), Improper Use of Motorcycles, Dangerous/reckless driving

Authors Note: Happy Birthday Ryan!!🥳🎉 This is my late contribution to the Goosecord Birthday fanfiction Party (or whatever we're calling this). I've had Luke on the mind as always and figured he'd be perfect for my first attempt at writing smut. Feel free to leave any constructive criticisms you may have, I'm still a new writer

Finally, shout-out to the Goosecord as always! Y'all are amazing people and are always there to help me out, inspire me, or just plain make me happy 💕

Looking back, you knew where you had fucked up. Sure, maybe you brought this all upon yourself, but who could blame you? You dare anyone else to resist the temptation.

You had only met Luke a month or so ago, but you were both infatuated with each other. He’d looked at you, sitting near the tent where he did the death-defying, given you a long, burning once over, winked, and stuck a cigarette in his stupid, crooked smile. His hair was disheveled from his helmet, and with his jacket slung over his shoulder, he was showing off his many trashy tattoos. He honestly looked like kind of an asshole.

You needed him.

You had ended up in his trailer that night, arching your back as he fucked you, making you cum with almost expert precision. His grip on your hips was strong enough to leave bruises, and knowing the transient nature of fair workers, you thought his marks were all you would be left with. But after fucking you within an inch of your life, he had laid with you and almost shyly asked if he could see you again sometime soon.

He would be in town for another three months, and since the fair was only open three days a week and you had a flexible work schedule, you spent plenty of time together, getting to know each other's quirks.

You learned the hard way that Luke was pretty protective of his motorcycle.

You’d been talking (and flirting) behind his tent for a while, just enjoying the night breeze, and, in his case, a smoke. You had gotten a bolt of courage and walked over to the motorcycle he was leaning against and threw a leg over to awkwardly straddle the seat. He’d watched you with an amused smirk as you leaned towards him, his eyes darting to your hands wrapped around the handlebars.

But when you moved your wrist to rev the engine, his hand shot out, gripping you in a steel vice. Your breath hitched as he used his other hand to hold your chin and tilt your head to look him directly in his eyes.

His gaze was piercing, almost harsh, as he quietly murmured something about stressing the engine and hurting the exhaust. You couldn’t follow his words, frozen in place by his sudden intensity.

“Do you get me?” he had asked, thumb stroking your cheek where he still held your face in place. You clenched your thighs together in an attempt to quell the sudden rush of heat to your core.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” you had responded, slightly breathless.

Luke had nodded, hands still on you as his eyes roamed your face hungrily. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip before he brought you in for a searing kiss. You sighed into his mouth; he tasted strongly of cigarettes and fair food. You brought up the hand not clamped in his grip and threaded your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss.

Later that night as you writhed under his touch, you made a mental note that this was a dangerous (and fun) button to press with him.

And press it you did.

After that night, you bugged him constantly to teach you how to ride a motorcycle.

“Come on Luke, let me try just once. It’ll be fun!” you ask him one night as you cuddle in bed together.

“My motorcycle is my baby, Beautiful. It’s my only transportation and my only career.”

“I’m not going to wreck it, I just want to drive you around for once.”

He smiled at that, wrapping an arm around you and kissing your forehead.

“But you make such a good backpack!”

“Backpack?!” you almost yelled indigently. He just laughed and kissed you again, this time on your mouth, shutting you up.

But the backpack comment had stuck in your mind. Fine, if he thought you were a backpack, then by God you’d be the “best” backpack you could be.

Luke and his motorcycle had become your primary transportation by now; he drove you to work and back, to dates together, and, memorably once to your dentist,

Ever since his comment, though, you decided to take a more…active role as his backpack.

It started with just wrapping your arms around his torso lower than usual until you were gripping just above his belt. Then, during longer drives, let your hands start to wander; over his biceps, his pecs, and especially his broad thighs.

He gave you a look once you got to your destination, but you brushed him off.

After about a week of consistently groping him, you took a plunge.

You were on a country road, heading down towards the fair, your hands gently caressing his thighs.

As casually as you could, you slid your hand over the crotch of his jeans. You felt him take a deep breath, your chest flush with his back. You waited a minute, letting his breathing settle, then squeezed.

You nearly fell off the seat as Luke jerked his motorcycle before he corrected himself and steadied you both. You kept your hand on his dick until you got to your destination, stopping outside behind his trailer.

He nearly threw himself off the bike, spinning to face you as he took off his helmet.

“Care to explain yourself?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

You glanced down and saw that he was half-hard, and you had to suppress a smirk.

“Explain what?” you replied, furring your brow to add to the ‘I’m-totally-innocent’ look.

“Your show’s starting soon, better get ready!”

He growled but went inside to throw on his “Handsome Luke” outfit and get ready. He stormed out a few minutes later but stopped to give you a quick kiss. (He swears it’s only for good luck). He leaned down and whispered into your ear.

“Don’t start doing things you’re going to regret”

His erection had gone down, but a fire burned in his eyes. A smile crept onto your face.

“I can deal with the consequences”

He smirked but turned and marched towards the Cage of Death.

You thought for sure he’d get his revenge but he didn’t mention anything after his show that night.

So, not knowing to quit while you’re ahead, you teased him one more time. Actually, more like 3 more times. Each time you would discreetly grope him while you clung to his back, as he shuddered, his breath caught in his chest. And every time you finally got off the bike, you braced for retribution that never came. If you were smarter you would've realized he was just biding his time, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

Which led you to today.

You wake up in his bed, same as you have the past few weeks. He always wakes up first (his sleep schedule is truly terrible), and you usually awake to him blatantly staring at you.

Today however when you blink open your bleary eyes open he has a look on his face you don’t recognize. It was close to amusement, but you couldn’t quite pin it down. He smiles as he notices your eyes creaking open, and the mysterious look disappears, replaced with his usual mix of cockiness, adoration, and mischief.

“D’ya want me to learn how to ride my bike today?”

“Whatever happened to ‘Good Morning’” you grumble, sleep still clinging to your brain. Half a second later you process what he said.

“Wait, really?” Your body shoots up, almost smacking him on the nose. “Yes! Or course! It’s not like I’ve been asking for weeks or anything.”

He snorts a bit at your quick response and stands from the bed.

“I have some shit to do this morning and I know you have a shift too, but I’ll pick you up later tonight, alright?”

You nod and watch him as he dresses, your eyes roaming his muscular and heavily tatted torso. You stretch and get out of bed, already impatient for tonight.

Your work shift seems to last five times longer than usual, anticipation distracting you so badly that you nearly pour salt into someone’s coffee instead of sugar.

Finally, the clock chimes announcing 6 pm. You hurriedly clock out, practically tearing off your apron. You wave goodbye to your coworkers and walk outside to wait for Luke.

He’s already there waiting, leaning against his motorcycle smoking, red jacket slung over one shoulder. The sun is already setting behind him, and the golden light makes his bleach-blonde hair glow, almost like a halo. You smile widely and wave to him as you bound across the parking lot to greet him.

A wide grin creeps onto his face and he plucks the cigarette from his mouth, moving it out of the way to not get ash on you while he leans down to kiss you.

“Hello, Gorgeous, how was work?” He asked you the same question every time he picked you up, knowing you loved telling him all about the funny or infuriating customers you had that day (he would never admit it, but he loved listening to you talk too).

But you have other priorities today.

“Work was good, but I had other things on my mind,” you say in a faux accusatory tone.

He chuckles but hands you the helmet he always brings for you. You grab it and move to sit in the front of the motorcycle, but Luke grabs your arm, stopping you before you can.

“Woah, woah, slow down Baby, I’m not letting you kill all three of us crashing into traffic because you don’t know what you’re doing yet”

“Ok, ok, fi- Wait, all three? You did not just include your bike as a person, Luke.”

“Keep saying things like that and I’ll take back my offer.” He arches an eyebrow, “Now get on. Behind me.”

You wisely shut your mouth and climb on after him, sliding the helmet over your head. You watch the sun get lower and lower in the sky as Luke drives you both outside of town, past his trailer, and to a large clearing behind the fair.

“Smart,” you comment as the bike slows to a halt, “Nothing for me to crash into out here.”

Luke doesn’t say anything, but the mysterious look returns to his face for a moment. He almost looks…predatory? He blinks and it’s gone as fast as it had appeared. Ah, well, you have other things to worry about.

“So, can I sit in the front now?” you’re practically bouncing with excitement.

“You sure can”

You squeal and toss your leg over the back, wobbling before gaining your balance. You don’t grab the handlebars yet; you learned that lesson the hard way.

Luke, instead of standing in front of the bike to give you pointers like you expected, climbs on right behind you. With his chest firmly pressed against your back, he reaches his arms around you, grabbing your hands and bringing them to the handlebars. With a flick of your wrist, the engine roars to life, and three things become immediately apparent to you.

One, the pants you’re wearing are a lot thinner than you thought.

Two, you had neglected to put on underwear this morning in your rush to get ready. On their own, those two facts wouldn't be a problem if not for the third and most pressing issue.

The motor of the motorcycle must be right under the seat, because the vibrations of the engine were going straight to your poorly protected core.

Your breath catches slightly at the sensations, but you hide your reaction well. This would just have to be a distraction you ignored if you wanted to learn anything tonight. Luke either doesn’t notice your reaction or is ignoring it because he starts explaining the controls to you casually. You pay attention the best you can as you feel yourself getting more and more aroused, his voice low in your ear certainly not helping.

You put your feet on the foot holds as he explains how to brake, and then with his urging you bring the motorcycle to a slow crawl forward.

“Good job, Baby” Luke purrs in your ear, the feeling of his breath against your skin makes you shiver, “Just start making small circles to get the feel of it.”

A newfound feeling of confidence surges through you as you carefully maneuver the bike around the field, picking up some speed. The engine rumbles harder every time you rev the throttle and you clench your thighs around the seat, hoping Luke doesn’t notice.

As you gain the feeling for the machine, Luke gives you more pointers, helping you accelerate, brake, and make more complex movements. The whole time his grip never leaves your torso, but you notice he starts to grip you lower and lower. Must be to let me move around better.

Your assumptions are quickly proven wrong though, when while you are cruising along, feeling comfortable driving, one arm slides up to hold you across the chest, pressing him even more firmly against his broad chest. The other hand moves until it's gripping right where your hip meets your thigh. You feel the energy shift.

“You know, people have different reactions to riding a bike for the first time,” his hand on your hip is making small patterns, “Some are afraid, some go overboard with the feeling of power, and some are cool as a cucumber.” You take a deep, unsteady breath as his fingers trail toward your belly button.

“But you,” he continues, hand moving slowly and steadily down your lower stomach, “Are the first person I’ve met to get turned on just from revving the engine.”

You gasp as he cups your crotch, pressing the heel of his palm right against your most sensitive spot. You nearly swerve and fall off the bike, but his arms keep you steady.

“Do you think I didn’t notice those teasing touches you kept doing, did you think I’d just let that slide?” he growls, punctuating his sentence with a slow grind of his hand that makes you let out a low moan.

“Luke I’m, I’m sorry” you gasp out “I- I didn’t mean to-”

“It's a bit too late for forgiveness now, Baby, but it's ok. We’ll make this a learning experience,”

You relax slightly as he removes his hand from your core until he starts toying with the waistband of your pants and you realize how fucked you really are.

”Now you’re going to drive us both home and since you seem to think it’s perfectly fine to tease someone who’s controlling a 400-pound death machine, you clearly won’t mind if I return the favor. You won’t let us crash right?”

You weekly nod in response, resigning yourself to whatever plans he had. Not like you could break out of his grip if you wanted to; his biceps were nearly as big as your thighs.

Revving the engine (and flushing an even deeper shade of red when the vibrations tease you even more), you turn the bike onto the road back to his trailer. You go much slower than he would, as both of your helmets are off.

Luke keeps one hand around your chest, but his other hand slowly creeps below your waistband, heading toward your aching core.

You feel him hum in approval as he realizes you aren’t wearing anything underneath, and his lips brush against your neck. He dips a finger between your folds, feeling the wetness that must’ve soaked through the fabric of your pants by now.

“All this for me? I’m flattered, really”

You whine as he starts to circle your clit slowly and consistently, and his teeth catch on your shoulder. He sucks down on your skin and you know you’ll have a bright red hickey there tomorrow, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You concentrate on the road the best you can, thankful that there aren’t any stop signs or street lights because you don’t know if you would've noticed them at all. Your breath is coming out ragged, but you hold the bike steady, not wanting to risk crashing.

Luke doesn't let up his assault on your cunt, fingers slowly increasing speed as they tease your sensitive nub. His mouth is trailing along your neck, leaving marks wherever he goes. He touches you with practiced ease and you slowly start to buck into his hand, chasing the pleasure shooting through you.

His arm around you tightens again holding you still, and you whine in frustration.

“Now now, can't have you tipping us over” The amusement in his tone is clear and you huff, annoyed at how much he's enjoying tormenting you. But he just continues his relentless teasing, making you shudder and let out sounds you only made in his bedroom.

After what feels like forever (but is probably only 15 minutes), you pull up behind his trailer. It's a slow day at the fair and he lives on the far end, away from most attractions, but a jolt still goes through your spine at the thought of someone finding you there, helpless to his touch.

You move to get off the bike, but Luke’s grasp keeps you in place, his fingers never faltering.

“Luke,” you pant out, “someone could see u- mmf!” You let out a surprised shout that's muffled by his hand previously around your chest covering your mouth.

“Well then, you better keep that pretty mouth shut for me, right? Wouldn't want everyone knowing how much of a slut you are for me” his voice is harsh in your ear and you let out a drawn-out moan, his words just adding to the fire rushing through your veins.

He pauses his movements and you momentarily think he's finally finished taunting you. His hips shift behind you, pushing your own hips forward a bit. You feel him shudder behind you and realize his crotch is now pressed very tightly against your lower back. You can feel his dick through his sweatpants as he grinds into you, clearly as turned on as you are.

You gasp into his hand, attention brought back to your cunt as he slowly pushes two fingers into you. You're so aroused that he can slide them in with little resistance, your wetness welcoming him. The pads of his fingers are rough from wear, and they feel incredible as he drags them back and forth inside of you.

You can't help the noises that escape you, muffled behind the steady hold of his hand against your mouth. Luke lets out a moan that's more like a rumble deep in his chest as he grinds his cock against you. His thumb returns to your clit, adding to the pleasure building in your center. You jerk forward, the feeling almost too intense for you to handle.

He stops his movements abruptly, pulling his hand out of your pants. You nearly sob in frustration. He turns your head to look you in the eye, hand still over your mouth. His pupils are so blown that the blue of his eyes is nearly gone. He looks ravenous.

“Are you starting to learn your lesson?”

You nod quickly, and he smirks.

“Good. But I'm not finished with you,”

Luke brings the hand that was just buried deep inside you to his mouth, sucking your juices off. He lets out a moan at your taste and you feel lightheaded. His fingers leave his mouth with a pop and you wish they were back in you.

“Now, we're going to go back inside my trailer and I'm going to finish what you started. And maybe if you're good, I'll let you cum, ok?”

You nod your head again, desperate to feel him again. He takes his hand off your mouth and you let out a loud breath, nearly panting.

He gets off the bike and holds out his hand to help you. You're shaky and unsteady, but you dismount without issue. The last thing you want to do is feel his wrath if you knock it over. He brings your face to his for a passionate kiss. You sigh into him as his hand threads through your hair to deepen the kiss, opening your lips to let his tongue explore your mouth.

Luke breaks the kiss and searches your face, looking for any sign he was going too far. You smile at him and bite your lip, letting him know you are A-OK with everything happening. His face softens for a moment and he smiles a crooked smile back at you, before the hungry look returns to his eyes and he tugs you up the stairs of his trailer.

You both get in as he shuts the door, already shedding his torn-up shirt. You tear off your clothes and clamber onto his bed. He stalks towards the bed, and nearly pounces on you as he climbs on after you, legs between yours as he holds his body above you.

He dips his head down to kiss you as his hands greedily roam your body, nails scraping slightly as he trails them over you. You moan into his mouth as one hand grabs your chest, kneading into the skin. He flicks your nipple, making you gasp and arch your back.

“God you’re gorgeous like this,” he murmurs as his gaze travels song your naked form, “I could keep you here like this for hours”

You keen at his words, your hands wrapped around his torso to keep him pressed against you, hoping he forgets about his ‘revenge plans’.

No such luck though, as he grabs your wrists with one hand and pins them above your head.

“It’s time you learned a little lesson about touching, so here’s how this is going to go; I’m going to enjoy myself and make you feel good, while you keep your hands right here the whole time, understand?”

You whine but nod, not trusting yourself to say anything that might wind him up more. He knows how much you love to touch him; running your hand through his hair, scraping your nails against his back, or just tracing each of his many tattoos. This was going to be hard.

Luke releases his grip on your wrists, and you dutifully keep them above your head. He smiles a dangerous smile.

“Good job, Baby.”

He kisses you one last time before he sits up and crawls off the bed. He leans forward to grab your hips and you yelp in surprise as he drags you to the end of the bed, your legs hanging off the edge. He moves forward until his still-clothed crotch presses onto your sensitive cunt, making you shiver. You move your hips, grinding on his dick that was so hard it must’ve been painful. He groans, but grabs your waist, pinning it still.

He leans down and kisses right in the center of your chest, then starts trailing his way down your torso, kissing and nipping at your skin as he does so. You let out breathy moans and sighs as his lips leave marks all over you, but keep your hands still, resisting the urge to touch him.

As he gets to your lower stomach, Luke kneels down, hands still gripping your hips. He shifts his attention to your inner thighs, bruising the sensitive skin beneath his teeth. You’re trembling, trying to maintain some form of composure as you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter.

Finally, he stops and you let yourself catch your breath before you feel the tip of his nose bump against your pubic bone. You look down and your breath hitches when you see him staring up at you, desire glaringly obvious in his eyes. Every instinct inside of you wants to reach down and tangle your fingers in his beautiful blonde hair, but the last coherent part of your mind resists.

That last fragment of coherence leaves you immediately though, when he sticks his tongue out and licks a long stripe up your folds. You throw your head back and let out a low groan as he steadily moves his tongue over your aching center with expert precision. For a man with such a tough exterior, you were always shocked at how softly Luke speaks, and equally as shocked at how adept he was using his mouth.

You’re lost in the feeling of his mouth working you closer and closer to your release when he latches onto your clit and sucks. Your gasp is cut off with a cry as he pushes two thick fingers into you again, curling them into the spot he knows will make you see stars. Your back arches and you reach down to grab his blonde locks, trying to steady yourself any way you can.

Luke removes his mouth from you and tsks, then bites down hard on the inside of your thigh. You almost sob, needing to touch him so badly you could cry, but you release your grip on him and reluctantly put your arms above you again.

He hums, satisfied, and goes back to sucking on your clit making you whimper. He adds a third finger pumping in and out of your glistening pussy, and you can practically feel his smirk when you attempt to clench your thighs close around him.

He hums again, and the vibrations on your sensitive nub combined with the precision of his fingers inside of you is too much to bear.

“Luke it’s- it’s too much,” You’re gasping with every breath, the tension in your core about to explode “I’m- I’m gonna-”

“Shhhh, it’s ok Baby, you’re doing so good for me. Let me hear those gorgeous sounds; I want to taste you as you cum for me.”

His soft words, combined with his mouth returning to suck on your clit and his fingers curling inside you finally tip you over the edge, the tension coiled in your lower stomach exploding across your body. You cum with a loud moan, crying out for Luke as you do. His fingers and mouth don’t stop, working you through the aftershocks until it becomes overstimulating and you tap the side of his head for mercy.

Luke withdraws from between your legs, carefully pulling out his fingers and giving your pussy one last kiss before he stands. You’re still catching your breath as you watch him, looking pointedly at his crotch.

He still has sweatpants on, and they do nothing to hide his achingly hard dick or the wet patch that's formed by the tip. You bite your lip, wanting to return the favor.

“That looks painful. Need a hand with it?” You sit up and move a hand to cup his dick, but his hand darts out and stops your wrist before you can make contact.

“I thought we learned a lesson on not touching without permission, hmm?”

You pout, but put your hand down to your side.

‘What, you’re just going to ignore that then?”

Luke chuckles but lets out a small gasp when his dick twitches, still confined in the fabric of his pants.

“I’m going to take care of this all by myself, and you’re going to sit there and look pretty while I cum all over you, sound good?”

He’s saying it as a question, but the dark look in his eyes when you tilt your head up to look at him lets you know there’s no making him budge on this. You swallow thickly and nod.

“Good, now just sit still and let me look at you,”

Luke pushes his waistband down, finally freeing his dick. He’s harder than you’ve ever seen him, steadily leaking precum from the flushed head of his cock. He uses the hand previously inside of you to slowly stroke his length, coating himself in your slick. You let out a small moan at the sight, wishing you were enveloping him, not his hand.

He increases the speed of his strokes, eyes roaming your naked form. He’s muttering words under his breath that you can barely hear, but you catch a snippet.

“...so gorgeous, so good for me, God, I love seeing you all fucked-out and wrecked like this…”

You notice his panting getting faster and his movements becoming erratic, as he approaches his climax.

“It’s ok, cum for me, Luke” You copy his soft tone, coaxing him over the edge.

He gasps out your name, eyebrows furrowed and teeth gritted as he cums with a growl, shooting his release all over your chest and stomach. You hum in approval, letting him calm down and catch his breath.

He tucks himself back into his pants, leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead, and then disappears into the bathroom. You collapse back onto the bed, exhaustion creeping into your bones. He returns after a minute with a damp washcloth and bends over to clean you up. You try to sit up to help him but he gently presses his hand against your chest, keeping you down.

“Shh, it’s ok. Let me take care of you.”

You’re more than glad to let Luke take the lead, unsure if your legs could even support you if you tried to stand. He finishes wiping you clean, taking extra care to be gentle around your now overly sensitive cunt. When he’s done he sets the cloth aside and kicks off his boots (has he really been wearing them the whole time?).

He crawls into bed next to you, bringing an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer onto his chest. You gladly curl into him, happy that you can finally feel him against you. You let out a yawn, the long day and energetic evening finally catching up with you. Luke presses another kiss onto your forehead.

“So, did we learn our lesson?” he asks, his tone soft and lighthearted. You giggle and snuggle closer, your eyelids drooping.

“Not sure, might have to teach me a couple more times.”

Luke snorts out a laugh and starts tracing little patterns on your shoulder with his thumb. You drift off to sleep in his arms, dreaming of motorcycles, the smell of cigarettes, and the love of your life holding your hand.

#luke glanton #Luke Glanton x reader #the place beyond the pines #tpbtp #Luke Glanton fanfiction #n sfw #ryan gosling #ryan gosling fanfic #ryan gosling birthday fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #man I'm so down bad for that bleach blond idiot

[mothdruid]

OK ONE MORE HEHE because i am on SUCH a roommate kick and pajama buying kick rn 🥹

from the roommate prompts, "you look so cute." "i'm literally in my pajamas but okay." with our baby bob floyd please my love!! 💗

happy happy birthday!! mwah!! 🎉

seb, again, i'm so sorry for how late this is. but here is our lovely baby bob floyd!!! here is some fucking fluffy fluffy fluff for our lovely baby boy <3

pairing.

robert 'bob' floyd x afab!reader

warnings.

fluff, kissing.

For once you had the day off. You finally had time to bake and clean your shared apartment. It had been on your list of things to do for a few weeks, but the day was just never right. But that morning when you woke up? It was as if you took a full syringe of vitamin B12.

You spent the morning casually cleaning. Sweeping the kitchen and bathroom, doing the small load of laundry you and your roommate had, even doing the dishes that were left over from the day before. When you started watering the plants around the apartment your brain started to buzz with excitement.

It wasn't often that you got to bake, especially from scratch. Bob had brought the idea of baked goods for his birthday a few weeks ago. Specifically snickerdoodles and peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. They weren't too hard to make, so you intended on slamming them all out today while he was working late. It was anything too late, just an extra two hours, but it gave you just enough time to get a batch of each done.

The snickerdoodles came first, then came the peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. It was a bit strategic, being able to leave the bag of left over chocolate chips left to munch on. The last batch was baking when Bob came home.

Bob didn't expect the sight that he saw when he walked into the the apartment. He immediately noticed the smell that filled the apartment, and the Taylor Swift playing in the back ground. He quietly closed the door, making his to the kitchen. And there you were.

Bob had acknowledged a long time ago that he had a crush on you. It was something that he never thought you would need to know. A sacred secret, one that potentially ruin your friendship. When Bob came into the kitchen he felt his heart melt.

You were shaking your entire body around, singing Taylor's Shake It Off to your hearts delight. Bob noticed your attire, realizing it was still what you wore to bed last night. It oddly warmed his heart, knowing that you truly had a day off to do whatever you wanted. Bob watched you reach to the counter, grabbing a handful of chocolate chips. Then you turned around, jumping when you noticed Bob.

"Oh, fuck! Bob!" The chocolate chips fell from your hand, scattering around the floor of the kitchen. "You can't scare me like that!"

"I didn't mean to," Bob smiled big, laughing a little.

Bob tossed his coat over the back of a barstool. The both of you got on the floor, searching for the stray chocolate chips. As the two of you did Bob couldn't help but marvel at you. Stealing glances when you weren't looking, only until you caught him.

"Huh?" You asked.

"Oh, I- nothing." Bob shook his head, trying to ignore it.

"Why do you keep looking at me?" You weren't trying to pry, just being inquisitive.

"I- youlookreallycute." It was like word vomit, all the words coming out as one.

"Oh, I'm literally in just my pajamas but okay." You cheeks were on fire now. Did Bob just call you cute?

Bob decided to just dive in, throwing the caution he loved so much to the wind.

"It doesn't matter, you look cute all the time."

You looked up at him, eyes meeting. He adjusted his glasses, tongue wetting his lips. The two of you were close enough that if you both leaned in you could kiss. Just when the idea crossed your mind, the alarm on your phone went off.

Without a second thought you jumped up, putting the chocolate chips you picked up on the counter. You pulled the tray out of the oven after finding an oven mit. You set the tray on the stovetop, turning back around to see Bob standing up.

Bob's cheeks were dusted with a rosy color. He took a few steps towards you, almost coming chest to chest with you. You slowly took off the oven mit, not breaking eye contact. The two of you sat there for a moment, staring. Without warning he started leaning towards you.

But the kiss never came.

Bob leaned to the side, moving his arm around you to turn the oven off. A relieved breath passed your lips. It was loud enough for Bob to pick up on. He pulled back, not moving from his spot in front of you.

"Don't want to burn the apartment down, now do we?" Bob laughed lightly.

"Bob, I-"

"Hey," he reached out to caress your arm, "I'm sorry for say-"

"Don't be," you grabbed his hand and laced your fingers in his, "cause I think we feel the same way."

Bob smiled before leaning in, pressing his lips so delicately to yours. With his free hand he removed the mit from between your two, setting it down on the counter. He moved your arm to wrap around his shoulders. Your lips moved with his perfectly, as if harmony had finally been achieved in the world.

When the two of you separated giggles came from you. Bob moved and kissed the kiss of your inner arm that wrapped up around him.

"What's so funny?" Bob whispered.

"Just that I've thought of this forever and now, it's happening." You said, letting go of his hand and bring it up to adjust his glasses for me.

"What if I told you I've thought the same thing?" Bob smiled.

You pressed a kiss to his lips again. Your fingers ran up the back of his head, threading through his hair. Bob hummed against your lips, feeling like he was on cloud nine. When he pulled back you spoke before he could.

"Now try these cookies I made you," you grinned wide, "cause they're baked with all my love."

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd fluff #robert bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #moths party

[valmare]

*running into the room, skidding to a stop*

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARE!!! I absolutely LOVE you and I hope you have the best birthday!!! 🥳🎁🎉🎊🍾🥂

For the celebration, could I have Slider with "you remembered?!" "what kind of question is that? of course I did!" and taking a bid of icing off the cake and putting it on their cheek

Fighter, love. I adapted this a little from the OG ask, but I think it turned out okay. Actually got away from me, but, I don't think I'm complaining? Hopefully you enjoy it, and thanks for asking!

Something Dangerous

“Don’t forget the brownies, Ronnie!” 

Of all the things to be doing, running late to a volleyball game in the middle of scathing San Diego afternoon was not topping anyone’s list, especially on one of the hottest days of summer. And most especially when the air in your boyfriend’s car wasn’t functioning. Even more especially when you’re approximately three degrees south of absolutely terrible—hair’s a wreck, your feet throb from wedge heels, and that sunburn from all-day yesterday on the sand was starting to smart. 

Hustling across the cracked pavement of the military housing unit’s apron, you stop and rest a hip against the offending vehicle in question. Ron’s K1500 looks exhausted, sitting under open sky and pristine blue skies. And if the thing could cry, you know she would—sagging on worn suspension, the front passenger tire needs air. Cracked rubber checkered with snaking crags across RADIAL lettering, most of her V6 and 4x4 badging either missing, sun-faded or busted in half. Tucked away in the bowels of your closet, Daddy had wrangled some replacement badges from a local junkyard back in Tulsa—he’d mailed them earlier in the year. Ron being the nosy one of your relationship, you’d socked them away for Christmas. 

The most adorable powder blue, most of the clear-coat is spotty and peeling in all the wrong places. Almost 20 years old, the first time you’d seen Baby, as Slider affectionately named her, you’d assumed she’d survived the war. Or, at the very least, some nuclear fallout the world forgot to remember. 

Stepbars aside, you can barely wrangle in and out of the thing—Kerner had lifted Baby himself, put her on some fat rubber. Relished in his ability to all but Frank Sinatra himself in and out of the thing. Perfect for a Gorgon-sized backseat RIO, but not a pocket-sized girlfriend. Five feet almost exactly, plunking your ass in Baby’s front pass seat took effort. It was like tight-wiring at the circus, precariously dangling over whatever terrain you found yourself in. Today it was the driveway, later the beach. Tomorrow would be church’s parking lot. Next week—wide open Tulsa interstate, hot pavement stretching for eternities. 

Baby’s fender is ripping hot, sunlight glinting off this-is-the-best-it-gets polished chrome enough to make you squint. Hissing at the heat against your thigh, you reflectively pull away. Readjust to rest your knee against the warm rubber of the tire, strap of your purse dropping off your shoulder as a hand dives into the knockoff Vuitton for keys. Halfheartedly and early in your relationship you’d exchanged spare keys as a couple—the key to Baby tinked right alongside the key to your Land Rover, and vice versa. Two years had all but worn the painted NAVY off your leather keychain. 

Muttering under your breath, your fingers brush the allusive keychain at the bottom of your bag. Snagging the keyring with your finger, you snatch them out of the bag before dumping it to the truck’s hood, moving to pop the latch on the door. With a rough tug, the hinge all but slips open—and if you hadn’t helped Slider wipe away the WD-40 drips left behind after lubing the doors, they’d take all the credit. Huffing a breath, you balance a wedge on the stepbar, grab the handle assist, and rest a knee on the seat to lean over the column and insert the key. With a flick, she turns over, stutters for a moment in the cradle. Rips to life with a throaty roar, body shaking a little beneath your feet. A satisfied little smirk at the radio has you slipping back down to the driveway apron, nudging the door lighting with your hip. Turning, you angle the side mirror to check your makeup and your hair—curls clipped back, you’d opted for simple makeup. Base and SPF didn’t mix, and the slight red on your nose from yesterday is testament to it. 

Flipping up the collar of one of Ron’s shirts, a hot sunburn simmers beneath the light material—he’d all but insisted you cover. Compliance had left you irritated, Mr. Bronze Adonis didn’t even need SPF. He could bar on-base all day ass-naked as the day he was born and not even pink. Kerner’s tan was almost as dark as the eyeshadow you’d opted for—a bronzy thing you didn’t even remember the name of, but set off the flecks of gold in your eyes. The way you knew he liked, the way you liked. 

Pinching your cheeks for extra color, movement in the reflection over your shoulder catches your eye. Here comes Kerner, gliding out the front door on long legs that are effortless, all but ripping out of too-tight light wash Wranglers. Dogtags thrown over his bare shoulder, he’s wedged a t-shirt into his back pocket. 

Balancing effortlessly in his flattened palm is the pan of aforementioned chocolate walnut brownies, the other split between his keyring and two six packs of Budweiser bottles that, even from across the lawn, clack together in the most beautiful sound a weekend could offer. Barefooted, sunglasses poised on the end of his nose, Ron toes the screen door back into place easily before hustling off the front step and across the offensively dead lawn. 

Meeting him at the edge of the apron, you gesure for the pan of brownies. You’d lovingly made them at his request for this picnic volleyball game—all the girlfriends were bringing food. A phone call to the roster later; Charlie (and thus, Maverick) was bringing macaroni salad, Carole and Goose were bringing condiments and drinks, Hollywood had all but threatened violence toward anyone who dared bring meat he wasn’t responsible for; Wolf had been instructed to bring paper products, and Kazansky had already secured pineapple and vegetables, because healthfood. 

That left dessert. And Ron was an absolute slut for anything chocolate, and he’d almost died when you’d whipped together your stepmother’s chocolate walnut recipe last year for his birthday. Groaning sinfully, he’d devoured almost the entire thing himself before you’d leaned across his finely-toned abs, reaching for the pan of dessert he’d dared to hold just beyond short stack reach. Successful in ripping them away, Slider earning brownie privileges had been entertaining to say the least. 

You still hadn’t replaced the broken headboard. “These are safe?” Pulling back the cheesecloth pulling overtime to protect all-but glistening chocolate icing from the elements, you peek into the pan as Ron’s now-empty hand falls to brush your lower back. 

“Ha ha,” the drill reply is all but eye-rolling as he steps up to the pavement. “We ready to rock and roll or what?” Moving to the driver’s door, he pops it open, deposits the beer to the floorboards, and rolls down the window before peeling at the gauges. “Shit, she’s warm already. It’s hot.” 

Finding the brownies satisfactory and fully intact from their escort, you gently work the cheesecloth back into place. Watching him step up halfway on the bar, it takes effort not to notice the ripple of hewn muscle in his arm as he grips the open door. Instead your eyes cut to his feet, brows lifting behind your own sunglasses for a moment. 

“Where are your shoes?” Like talking to a child, you balance the pan of brownies against your palm, other hand planting at your cocked hip. “I had them out, right next to your jeans. Ron. You need shoes.” 

“Do not,” he challenges with a lopsided chuckle, leaning through the open window. Fingers drumming against the powder blue paint, his smile twists up, smirking. “It’s a day on the sand, babygirl. Who needs shoes? Let these dogs bark.” Nose wrinkling with a chuckle, he reaches to push his shades into place with a knuckle. His gaze casts over you quickly. “And you’re wearing heels.” Wolf-whistling, his brows bounce. 

Ron loves when you wear heels, it’s a near-constant request every time you go out. It’s the long line of your legs, the light tick on the right service. Mostly, though, you assume it’s the added height benefit. Ron alone has contributed to your shoe collection more than probably necessary, you sometimes worry it’s more of a passtime for him than not. 

Because, while Kerner isn’t exactly rolling in the dough (thanks so much Uncle Sam) you’d never know it with how he spends money. On you. Despising the fact that you’d just as soon shop Salvation Army or the clearance rack at Bloomingdales, he insisted on new clothes. New designer shit that neither of you could afford. And shoes alone, well–whether or not it could be called a fetish is neither here nor there. He’s obsessed with watching you try on shoes, how they look in your closet he’d single-handedly remodeled. 

The first Naval ball you’d attended Ron had all but seized when you suggested borrowing shoes from Carole Bradshaw, since you were the same size and she lived right next door. Scooping you up like nothing short of a farm sack, he’d tossed you over his shoulder, smacked your ass, and plunked you in the front seat of his truck. To go shopping. 

And Slider knew shopping—he had two sisters. Two sisters and a mother that was an attorney. Not only did his stamina for the urban jungle know no bounds, he knew the game. Understood brands. And he knew your shoe size from peeking around your closet, had dropped your ass in a chair and plucked selections from shelves like some possessed thing from a retail version of the Shining. 

His credit card was practically on fire before you’d left the mall with Jimmy Choos, Calvin Kline, Valinto. The dress alone was hundreds of dollars you were pretty sure he was still making payments on, but Slider never seemed to mind. He just grinned, wagged those brows while his tongue traced his bottom lip with a snide, But you can wear it anytime I ask you to, which was, apparently, entirely the point. You hadn’t worn the thing since the naval ball, but, you regularly checked on it in the back of your closet. 

Your cheeks dust pink at the way he tips his head to peer over his sunglasses at you. Dogtags all but glistening in the sweat that’s pearling in the curls of hair on his chest, you take a leveling breath. Chest opening a little, your shoulders roll back as your toes curl a little in your shoes. Pan of brownies warm in your palm, you pluck your own sunglasses from the top of your hair and slide them into your place. 

“Your funeral,” you chime in a cheeky, sing-song tone at the mental image of his feet hitting the blacktop of the parking lot. Ron, for his size, tends to whine about pain. Unless it’s pumping iron and working out, then he’s steady as an oak. Any other time pain is involved, he’s as weak as a newborn foal. “Don’t cry to me when your feet fry like an egg on the blacktop, Ronnie. It’s a heckuva walk from the parking lot to the beach,” head canting to the side, you lazily twist the ball of your shoe against the concrete apron. On purpose, teasingly. “Ice is the toughest sonuvabitch I know and even he wears sandals, baby.”

Slider’s mouth purses into a tight o, and he whistles a little low. “Listen to you,”  he reaches through the open window for your arm, but you step back sharply to evade the grab, “does Kazansky know you talk about him with that mouth?” You giggle when his fingers brush your arm, but you twist away. Slider grins brightly as he slips from the truck to dodge around the door, cutting off your escape. 

“You never talk about me that way,” his rough hand successfully snatches your arm at the exact moment you tuck the pan of brownies against your chest for protection. Feet skitching against the pavement, you’re in Ron’s thick arms, pressed against his rippling chest before your heart can even skip a beat. “I love it when you talk filthy.” His tongue skates his bottom lip, his palm smoothing your hair tenderly. Even behind shades, you can see his eyes sweeping over the features of your face. “Why don’t you ever talk filthy about me?” 

Face wrinkling into a less than serious pout, his lips twist into a fake turndown that stabs between your ribs. The snort escapes you before you can even track it, and you arch back a little from his chest, over the strong arms pinning you in place. He’s sweating and smells like SPF, but in the best way. Nerves alrighty aflame with inferno light that skips through your blood, you very quickly can’t feel past the way his heart seems to leap at his ribs for yours. 

And before you can even think about it, “You keep track of how I talk about Ice?” has slipped from your pretty pink lips like blades laced with poison. Cutting through the thick air that ripples between the two of you, the look that settles on Slider’s face is, at first, unreadable—for seconds, maybe. Within a heartbeat his lips are curling into quicksilver that slices through your facade of confidence. It grabs your spine with chilled fingers, and like smoke in the air, you aren’t able to process past the way he’s looking at you behind dark lenses. 

Breathless for all of a few seconds, your brain stops functioning. Fritzes like a static TV. And before either of you can respond, your eyes cut to the tray of brownies resting between your chest and his. Biting the corner of your lip turns into restless gnawing on the inside of your cheek, and for a few seconds you don’t know what happens—except your finger skips along the smooth frosting of brownies. Reaches up with a mind of its own and bleps it on the tip of his nose. 

For a few bleeding moments, nothing happens. Until the brown splot on his nose is so glaringly staring back at you that it snaps you like a rubber band back into reality. Eyes flicking from his nose to the pan of now effectively destroyed, brownies, the hinge of your jaw fails. Lips parting into a sweet little o, your face flames redder than it already is with recycled sunburn painting your skin, and you look back up at him. 

“Oh.” Your bottom lips rolls beneath your top teeth. 

His brows have all but taken flight off his face. Clearing his throat, his posture tightens. His chest opens, shifting the pan of brownies enough that your hand moves to stabilize it. Blowing out a breath from between his lips with gusto, he blinks a few times as he pushes his sunglasses up into his hair. With a finger, he points to his nose. 

“Oh,” he mocks, making a face that immediately rips a giggle from the back of your mouth. More bubbles up your throat as he continues to mock your tone, over and over, until he wrinkles his frosting-tipped nose and moves in for a nose-to-nose kiss that only means trouble. 

“Ron, no,” you try to sound serious, but it fractures under your fissure of giggles, “Slider, stop it! The brownies—the brownies!” Never mind the fact you’ll be late to the game if this keeps up–time is all but a construct beyond his arms, the way he holds you. How he looks at you so adoringly. Since the minute you’d laid eyes on him at the South Bay Drive In, you are Icarus flying into his too-close sunlight. The fact that he picked you is so Hollywood, the stuff of cinematic masterpieces and Shakespearean dreamscapes. Sometimes it doesn’t even feel real. 

“‘Oh, Sli, the brownies!’—I’m not the one who went and wrecked the goods, sweetheart,” you lean back enough that it fractures his arms from their hold around your middle, allowing you to backstep away from him. But Slider is all about the chase, the game—the cat and mouse that sends the two of you round and round, like always. “Now what are you gonna tell everyone when it comes time to cut your birthday brownies?” His voice drops to an uncharacteristic low, like he’s putting on airs. 

It’s not the bedroom low you’ve come to adore from him, but it’s something else entirely—like the very accusation has roused an entirely new character from within his veins, one that is dark and tortured just by the very thought of that emerald monster. Halting your retreat from him him, your hold on the brownies against your chest tightens a little, almost to white-knuckle. His words echo through your brain like he’s spoken into some grand chasm, the words reverberating through your very bones. Birthday. He’d said birthday, you’re pretty sure. Willing to bet good Vegas cash on it. 

“You remembered,” blinking like a complete idiot, your mouth ticks up into a pleased grin. 

“Of course I remembered,” his fisted hands land on either of his hips, disbelievingly. Shooting him a deadpan look, his cheeks darken. Which isn’t like Ron. He’s never bashful, is rarely the butt end of anything. “Oh come on.” 

“Last year you forgot,” you correct, cocking a hip. “Tom help you remember this time? Is that what this game is about?” After all, Ron is the one who insisted on a weekend volleyball game and picnic. His idea, his coordinating the details. He hadn’t uttered a word about anything birthday related, and you’d been fine just keeping it lowkey. Had fully planned to have a night-in;  cook some pasta, enjoy Wheel of Fortune. Maybe play some naked cribbage. 

Slider not remembering your birthday last year wasn’t a big deal. He’d made it out to be more than it was, but you turning twenty-nine was not something worth fretting about this time around the sun. But you suspected, with the way he was babysitting this entire thing, that it was all for you. Not saying anything, you’d let it slide—but now, the way he was looking at you. All dangerous and suntanned and sweating in the sexiest way? 

You just couldn’t not. 

His brows lift again, teasingly. “For someone who’s supposed to belong to me, you sure talk about Ice a lot.” And he rushes you before you can even counter, but it isn’t fast enough. Skirting around the corner of the truck to put Baby between the two of you, Slider eases up to make the corner. You’re already scrambling up into Baby’s front passenger, tossing the pan of brownies up on the dash with a sharp thunk!, baking pan colliding with the windshield. 

You're halfway into the cab when both of Slider’s big hands grab either of your hips, “Not so fast,” pulls you off the stepbar. Shoulders flush to his chest, your head falls back to rest against his shoulder, the toes of your wedge heels skimming the pavement just so that you know it’s gonna leave marks. 

Dipping to brush his nose against the soft flesh of your neck. Slider brushes aside the collar of his shirt to nip at your collarbone. His hands at either of your hips dip you back harder against his frame, and the heat of his chest flares to life against the sunburn flaming on your back. Hissing, you wriggle a little uncomfortably, until his hand slips up the curve of your frame and fondles your tit, lovingly. 

“Sli,” it’s more of a plea than anything else, and you hate how he’s reduced you to little more than a flailing pile of goo. He hums against your skin, his hand moving from your breast, up the valley of your tits, to firmly latch around the column of your throat. Delightful pressure, but nothing that hurts—just the way you love it. “We shouldn’t—” 

“Why not,” He’s chuckling, now. It’s not a question. Instead, simmers low in his chest, like bubbling magma. You can feel it between your shoulders. It lights up your sunburn, stirs the churning pot of your sex like you can’t believe. Seconds and he’s rendered you both incoherent and stupid, two things you are notoriously not. Other hand slipping from your hip to dip beneath the ruffle of your skirt, his fingers brush the apex between your legs. And he chortles, like the devil. Because he is. 

“Look at you,” he whispers it into your ear, hot breath chasing across your cheek in a way that sends you keening. Preening at the praise, his hand moves to curl fingers into the meat of your thigh. It burns, deliciously, sending volcanic heat to that delicious little spot between your legs that is throbbing. Achingly empty. Desperate for more, anemic like the starving. “Sensitive, aren’t you, baby?” 

Your mewl is lewd. Sinful. Traitorous, even. “Ron—” 

With a pleased chuckle, the world flips in a blur of movement as Slider spins you around. Chest-to-chest, he slants his mouth over yours thick and hot, milking a slow little whine from the back of your throat the way he likes it. Licking into your mouth, there’s nothing for you to grab now that the world is rocking, spinning as your senses light up like a control panel. World spinning, reality shattering like it always does every time he kisses you this hard, this deep, you yelp at the sudden cold of him being ripped away. His absence, the daylight between you as he hoists you up, into Baby’s front passenger seat. 

And before you can even breathe, he’s spreading your legs apart. Heels planted in the door jamb and on the frame, you’re dizzier than you first thought when his lips curl into a cocksure smirk from between your legs. Core on fire from supporting yourself half-cocked, his big hand comes to rest on your belly, and adds pressure. It’s an unspoken ask, and you flop back to the seat with a desperate whimper, gnawing on your bottom lip as Slider places hot, light kisses to your inner thighs. 

His nose brushes your apex as he hums, curiously. “I was gonna save this for later,” his chuckle is devilish. Burns like silver that’s been melted into another state altogether, waiting for the mold of something beautiful. Something dangerous. “But I guess you could talk me into giving you your present early, babygirl.” 

Back arching off the seat, your fingers pull at the hem of his shirt that feels little more than a straightjacket on your flaming, searing skin. Eyes pinched closed, that want in the base of your gut may as well be a rabid thing, clawing for release. Desperate for satisfaction. Hungry, your toes curl against the base of your shoes, the straps all but cutting into your flesh. Propping up on an elbow, you reach for his head of curls. With a flick of your wrist, tip his head back. 

He’s grinning at you, goofily. “You’re such a cocksucker,” and he is, really. Or, rather, is inches from. His eyes jump with a brightness that makes your heart stutter a little behind your ribs, and you try not to smile. Instead, you bite your bottom lip, noting that it’s still swollen from where he’s kissed you so damn fully. “You want me to beg, hm? On my birthday, Ron?” 

“Now’s a good a time as any,” his brows bounce, “so how ‘bout it, hm? Gonna be a good girl and beg for Slider on your birthday?” 

He didn’t really have to ask.  

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#ron slider kerner #ron kerner #top gun #top gun 1986 #ron slider kerner x reader #slider x reader #ron kerner x reader #answered asks #ask mare #mare's birthday celebration #rick rossovich #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagines #followers celebration #it's my birthday #only a month late #top gun imagine #top gun fic #top gun x reader #x reader

[buckgasms]

Ohhhh you're right! I'm so sorry I did not thought of that imagine you already wrote 🥺🥺 ok, maybe another idea 😊 the reader is also an avenger but currently bad mooded due to back pain but refuses any help from the others. So one time she can't barely move, buck decides to help and picks you up, carrying you to his room (even your protesting) and he starts massaging you. It helps a lot, but your moans of content do also affect bucky in a kinda sexual way? 😇 Hope this one's better for you sweetheart ❤️

My baby Nonnie! I imagine this is so so late for your birthday so I can only apologise, but I hope it's enjoyable and what you fancied ❤️ Thank you for sending this in, I love you so much and you are perfect.

Happy birthday sweetie 🎂🎈🎉

Warnings: Sexy massage time, think of the hands!!!!

-------------------------🙌🏻---------------------

Bucky was heading to the living room looking for his copy of The Hobbit when he was greeted by the sight of you laid out flat on the sofa, your face locked in a grimace and a few tears leaking down your cheeks.

"Doll what's the matter?" His voice laced with concern as he moved swiftly over to you, sitting down on the coffee table next to your aching form.

"It's nothing Buck, just my back, it goes all the time, I'm fine....really ugh" you groaned and waved your hands as if to shoo him away.

He chuckled at you. You were the most stubborn person he'd ever met. All week you had been wincing and groaning in agony as your back twinged. Everyone had offered you some kind of help which you politely but firmly refused, claiming it happened all the time and you could handle it.

"Sweetie, this is ridiculous. Let me help you please. I know you don't like being helped but you need to face it. You're stuck on the sofa." You rolled your eyes and shook your head. He sighed, smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Well then you leave me no choice..."

With that he stood and scooped you up in his big arms. You moaned in protest but he ignored you and carried you out of the living room and down to his room. You were dying to kick his ass, but even you had to admit, it was unlikely to happen in your current state.

Finally he placed you down on his big bed and rolled you so you lay on your front. "Don't be mad but I'm gonna have to take your shirt off, and I can't get it any other way than...." And he tore it up the middle like a piece of paper.

"Bucky!!!!! What is the matter with you?" You yelled and tried to twist but it just made you cry out. "Just shuddup will ya?" You kept grumbling into the mattress as he left to grab some lotion. The next thing you felt was his thick thighs straddling your smaller ones and he sat himself on your legs. You prayed he couldn't feel you squeeze your thighs together as you considered the position you were in.

Bucky too was a little bit taken aback by his own forwardness, but figured he may as well continue now he was here. He really did want to help you too. He covered his hands with the lotion and set to work on your aching muscles.

He could sense your tension as he worked, his hands gliding over your smooth skin before pressing his fingers into the knots.

Things were going fine until you starting relaxing, which meant you starting moaning. Some were cute little moans, whilst others were longer and more drawn out. As far as Bucky could tell you didn't seem to realise so he kept quite and prayed you didn't notice the affect it was having on him. Because it was certainly having an affect. He found himself aching to make you moan more, so he worked your muscles further, and he shimmied down a little to rub at your lower back, his hands teasing at the top of your waist band over the curve of your ass.

"Oh my god Bucky" you whined before suddenly stiffening. "Errm I mean..... oh god, I'm sorry...you can stop now." He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear and whispered, "do you want me to stop Doll? Cos I can keep going if you like? Would love to hear you say that again." With his full weight pressing you deliciously against the sheet, you could only nod. He slipped off and carefully pulled your leggings down, followed by your underwear and settled again. Taking his time, he massaged your ass, then down to your inner thighs, softly and deliberately grazing your folds before leaving them to continue down your legs. He continued to tease you, drifting up to graze before sweeping down again and rubbing your legs. Your moans and whines became louder, his name flowly freely from your lips making him grin.

After a while he decided he had teased you enough, and rubbed his fingers along your now soaking folds. He hummed with satisfaction and teased your clit, slipping a thumb into your aching hole. You gasped and your fingers gripped the pillow as he worked his fingers like magic against your sensitive walls and clit.

"Oh Bucky, shit... Feels so good" you moaned and he used his spare hand to keep massaging your body. "That's it, good girl, just relax and let it all go baby, I gotcha" he growled as his fingers flexed and you shuddered towards your release, crying out for him and you came.

After you lay panting for a moment, you rolled yourself over and shoved your already ruined shirt from your body. He was still kneeling on the bed and your eyes widened as you saw him sucking your release off his fingers before you sat up and smiled at him.

"Hey Buck... Would you like a massage?"

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #masterlist #darling nonnie #request fic

[finniestoncrane]

That's My Girl

TWOJAR!Riddler x Female!Reader, word count: 1.5k HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WONDERFUL FRIEND @riddlemeri i love you so much, i'm so glad i met you and i'm so grateful for you every day 💚 this is for a request ri sent in and uh yeah i just wanted to fuck him oops, happy birthday i guess oops 💚🎉🐧 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: ok so cunnilingus, praise!kink, piv sex, desk sex, fingering a little bit, doggy style, blowjobs, and i think that's it...?

Returning to the office, silent nods of approval from Edward’s other employees marking your grand return, you felt a sense of accomplishment, pride. It had been hard to commit yourself to criminality, the inevitable punishments that would follow, but you’d do anything for Eddie, anything to be Edward Nygma’s most trusted friend, and more. And as you returned to him, the necessary first part of his plans set up, you couldn’t help but smile. Entering his office, you practically skipped over to him, his feet resting on the desk pulled down, elbows replacing them on the tabletop, his chin resting on his hands as he watched you perch on the edge.

“Done?”

“All done!”

“Well done.” There was limited perceptible emotion behind the words, but you could see the glimmer in his eyes as he let a small smile creep up on one side of his mouth.

“Well…what now?”

He lifted his elbows, leaning back in the chair, his arms outstretched.

“Now, baby, we enjoy the feeling of peace and accomplishment, because it won’t last.”

“How so?”

“Well, we’re about to go to war.”

His smile was slightly wider as he explained it to you, a little bit mocking but sweet either way, and you found yourself leaning into him, taking a couple of steps towards him as you spoke.

“Huh…I never really considered the inevitable risks. I was too caught up in all of the excitement!”

“Well, now we can sit back and relax.”

Tossing your head back, you sighed a little, clenching your fists and grinning at him as you looked back to him.

“I don’t think I can, Ed! I’m way too full of adrenaline! I want to plan, I want to scheme, I want to…”

You cut yourself off before you sounded desperate, but it was too late because he knew what you wanted. Silently, and with his finger curling towards you, he called you to him, grabbing your hips and settling you into his lap, removing one of his hands to brush the hair from your face, his hand ghosting against the side of your face, resting on your cheek as he kissed you, pressing his lips to yours.

With your hands on his chest, open shirt pushed to the side, he leaned back in the chair, raising you up and pressing his hands around your ass, gripping your cheeks, sliding to the underside of your thighs and pushing under your skirt. Holding your closer, your chest against his and your hands around his neck, he moaned and you giggled against his lips. His fingers dug into your thighs as he lifted you up, dropping you down on the desk.

He pushed up your skirt, bunching it around your hips, fingers slipping into your underwear and pulling them down, fingernails dragging into your thighs as he removed them. Holding your ankles, he kissed up your leg, pulling himself closer to the desk, pulling your body closer to him on the desk. A satisfied hum emanated from his mouth as he pressed a kiss to either side of your cunt, against the tops of your thighs, his hands moving up and under your shirt, smoothing over your stomach, lifting your shirt up as he went, yanking the cups of your bra down and exposing your breasts with a low growl, letting his fingers trace around your nipples, your moans spurring him on as he groaned in chorus. Straining his upper half, he reached to place a kiss to your abdomen, one on your mound, and one on your lips, swollen in anticipation.

His breath was heavy, warm against your cunt, as he held his tongue against you, flat and wide, a wave of intense pleasure flowing over your body, breath shuddering as he laughed at the effect he had on you, the vibration of the sound over your pussy. He looked up at you briefly, dragging his tongue from the bottom to the top, lifting it off, strands of his drool and your slick falling to his chin before he dipped it back in between your folds, lapping at you, dipping into you, hungry for your taste.

You brought your hand to the back of his head, pushing him further into you as he pressed his thumb to your hood, teasing it back to expose your clit, running the tip of his tongue over it, flicking fast and making small circles as you hitched your hips into him.

“Good girl, use me.”

The words were muffled, barely a second to get them out before his mouth was around you again, your hand forcing him closer, deeper. His appreciative groans rumbled through you as you ground his face into you, his strong jaw moving up and down, two of his fingers dipping inside of you as he licked and sucked, dangerously close to pulling an orgasm from you. He only ceased when you started shaking and whispering his name.

He stopped, panting as he looked up at you, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, lop-sided smile and blow out pupils as he stared, desperate, wild. Pushing back from the desk, he got himself onto his feet, staring down at you as you giggled, face blushing as he removed his shirt completely.

Edward loosened his belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, letting it all fall to the floor with an oddly erotic thud. He dipped his fingers below the band of his underwear, and as you stared at the bulge, he released himself, his length bobbing as it was jostled from the tight fabric. Palming himself, cock hard, twitching as he stared at you, devouring you with his eyes. As he moved towards you again, leaning in to kiss you, you could feel the stiffness of his length pressed against you, guiding the head of his cock into you, inching deeper as he took your hands in his and held them against the desk above your head.

“Oh…god…you feel…so good…”

You clenched, muscles tensing at his words. Nothing made you feel better than when he complimented you, any modicum of praise you received sent chills down your spine.

“You’re…hng…taking me…mmm…so well…”

He was letting himself enter you further, until his abdomen met your body, moving in and out, soft smacks echoing in the room, his enthusiastic grunts spilling forth from his soft lips as he rocked into you, one arm around your back as he cradled you, holding you up, your foreheads pressed together.

With Edward this close to you, his grunts rang through your body, pulling your orgasm closer as you listened to the sweet sounds he made as he pushed himself into you, your walls tightening around him as your fingers gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white as your whines grew louder, closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Wait…baby…you’re too good…this is so good…”

He brought his thumb to your clit, his cock still pumping in and out of you as you whimpered at his touch. Laughing breathily, clinging to his composure, he ran his other thumb along your cheek.

“Is this…ok?”

You could barely find the concentration to nod, your body so tense, filled with him.

“You’re beautiful…fuck…”

He whispered his testaments of love to you, rutting into you, his thumb rubbing circles against your clit still, your whining and pleading driving him close to orgasm, and you weren’t far from it yourself, something he could send as you let your nails sink into his back, moaning his name over and over as he clung to you.

“Do it…do it for me…ah…good girl…”

His mouth was over yours as you came, kissing you and muffling your screams. You rode the waves of your orgasm, his thrusts gentler, but still drawing more from you, your slick covering his cock, his own moans louder, heavy panting and whimpering. He slid out completely, grabbing your hand and pulling you up on to your feet, your legs shaking under you.

“Be a good girl, hm?”

You sank to your knees in front of him. Edward stood before you, gripping his length, slick, wet cock in his hand, tightened fist pumping up and down, your own reaching for it and taking over. You ran your tongue over his flushed head, wrapping your lips around it and sliding them down the shaft, tasting yourself on him, his head tilted back as he whined, your cheeks hollowing around him.

“Good…girl…such…hng...a good…huh…girl…”

He strained his neck up, head tilted back as his thighs tensed, mouth open to let a grunt out, chest heaving as he came, hips jutting, his seed spilling into you at the back of your throat, warm, thick, pleasantly salty. You swallowed it completely, smiling up at him as he grabbed your chin, tilting you to look up at him, stroking your cheek softly, looking into your eyes.

“That’s it, that’s my girl.”

Smiling down at you, he reached to help you up, holding your body in his arms as he kissed at your neck, brushing the hair out of the way and moaning against your skin.

“So good, so beautiful. You’ve done so well.”

You laughed, leaning all of your weight into him, forcing him to hold you up completely.

“Because of that?”

“Because of everything…everything.”

#finnie writes #riddler #the riddler #riddler imagine #the riddler fanfic #riddler x reader #riddler x you #edward nygma #edward nigma #edward nashton #the riddler fanfiction #twojar #the war of jokes and riddlers #twojar!riddler #twojar riddler

[radiant-reid]

OMG i'm SO late. But...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY!!!!

Here are some cakes for you💖🎉🎂🎈

THANK YOU !!

I was glad to throw out my fake ID lmao

#rr answers

[scorchieart]

Happy birthday Scorchie!! 🐂🎉🐂🎉🐂🎉🐂🎉🐂🎉🐂🎉🐂🎉🐂🎉🐂🎉🐂🎉🐂🎉🐂🎉 Have some Altaria wing pats for your troubles! ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ And while I got Pokemon on your mind, could you tell us what teams the princes would have and how they found each other? I know you'll just fill it up with cute wholesomeness!

The Ikepri Prince's Pokémon Teams

Oh, my dear Ox-Anon, you've done it again. Leave it to you to give me another fun prompt! Tbh, I've actually been wondering about these myself for a bit so this is a good chance to get it down in writing. I very much want to expand upon how the guys picked these teams and the kind of world they'd live in if pokemon were around, but I also don't want this response to be too terribly long or technical so I'll leave it at 3 per prince:

1 based off their crest

1 based off their personality

1 wildcard if they were allowed legendaries or mythicals

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Jin Grandet

Braviary: Eagle pokemon, can't get any more direct than that. The two of them probably lounge together and snooze on the rooftop all the time, avoiding responsibilities and driving Sariel crazy. But they step up to the plate when they're needed and never back down.

Wobbuffet: Hear me out, Wobbuffet is all about nonviolence and it puts itself in the line of fire to deflect attacks away from its allies. It's also really chill and silly, so I think Jin could bond with it well.

Latios: Because Jin's the big brother of the bunch and is always looking out for the rest of them.

Chevalier Michel

Luxray: Of course, he has a level 100 shiny one with perfect stats and IVs, best nature, and EV trained to the max. There aren't a lot of tiger pokemon and Chevalier doesn't seem like the Incineroar type.

Chandelure: I can just imagine Chevalier staying up late at night in his personal library reading with this guy floating around. A quiet reading buddy and personal guard. Plus it can help calm his icy atmosphere since it's a fire type.

Raikou: Another electric type? It looks like a tiger tho, and it's a legendary beast, and it matches his aesthetic quite a bit.

Clavis Lelouch

Liepard: The only leopard pokemon I can think of, though I haven't really been paying much attention to the later generations. But hey, it's a delinquent and it's purple!

Mime Jr. or Rotom: I honestly can't decide, but I'm just thinking of pokemon that are mischievous and jolly by nature. Someone who can keep up with his antics and able to play a big role in them, but still be small enough to hide in his pocket when it comes time to make an escape. Mime Jr. has the advantage of being able to mimic all the complicated maneuvers Clavis does while Rotom has the bonus of being able to hide in and/or possess furniture and the like.

Suicune: A second legendary beast to rival Chevalier's Raikou. The purple thingy reminds me of Clavis's silky hair.

Leon Dompteur

Pyroar: A lot more lion options to choose from (haha, pokemon co. playing favorites?) He'd have a male one that's regal and friendly. Whenever they tour the kingdom, children flood the streets just to meet and play with them.

Salamence: Baby Bagon's a tiny dragon that always dreamed of flying. I think Leon related to it's struggle and helped it train until it finally grew into a magnificent and powerful Salamence. I bet they take regular flights through the clouds to clear their minds (think Hiccup and Toothless).

Solgaleo: Leon's constantly described as being warm and bright as the sun, so I think this fits the best. Got some sky symbolism going for it, too.

Yves Kloss

Delcatty: I can just imagine Yves bouncing around with a pink Skitty as a kid and them entering contests together. And the move Assist fits because he's always praising the strengths of his brothers.

Alcremie: A sweet pokemon to partner up with him in the kitchen. You bet Jin and Luke have tried to take a bite out of it more than once, and that sends Yves into a fritz.

Jirachi: Yves would definitely befriend Jirachi and share his deepest wishes with it, praying and praying they'd be granted every night before bed. Because Jirachi only awakens for a few days once every 1000 years, it is said that whoever meets one is incredibly lucky. But Yves wouldn't think of it like that when the time comes to say goodbye. (Ok, this got real heavy out of nowhere, let's continue...)

Licht Klein

Lucario: Lucario is calm, cool, composed, and an excellent fighter, just like our Licht. They're also both deadly efficient and see things through to the end, even if the end means sacrificing themselves (Hang on, I thought we agreed no more of the sad feels!) AND they both like chocolate! (Nailed it.)

Espeon: Gotta go with the naming conventions here; the Eeveelution for the daytime. It's also graceful and reserved, just like he is.

Zacian: The ancient pokemon of legend that protected the land from calamity with its legendary sword alongside its brother.

Nokto Klein

Zoroark: A tricky shapeshifting fox dark as night and based off of the mythical kitsune? Sounds like Nokto, hook line and sinker.

Umbreon: It's quick, sneaky, and strikes at the perfect opportunity. Paralleling Licht's Espeon but in the night. You just know when they were still Eevees they used to mess around with Yves.

Zamazenta: The ancient pokemon of legend that protected the land from calamity with its legendary shield alongside its brother.

Luke Randolph

Ursaring: These 2 were made for each other, seriously. Big bears, love honey, button-nose-adorable as kids... this stuff writes itself.

Vespiquen: Another honey-related pokemon, but I think Luke could tame her. Maybe he and Teddiursa used to raid her hive back when she was a Combee, and once she evolved they had a final showdown where he eventually captured her. It took a while to get on her good side after that, though.

Celebi: Free spirited, lives in the forest, and is a massive napper. Yes, I think they'd be great friends.

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Can you tell I've been starved to talk about Pokemon for a while? Oh, How I wish I could just spend the entire day wrapped up in some floofy clouds...

Thank you bud for the kind wishes, and I hope you liked this list! Rock on!

(Check out my Ikemen Prince Writing Master list here! And if you want to send me a request, please check the details here!)

#ikemen prince #ikepri #pokemon #ikepri headcanon #ikepri all da bois #ikepri jin #ikepri chevalier #ikepri clavis #ikepri leon #ikepri yves #ikepri licht #ikepri nokto #ikepri luke #scorchie writes #ask scorchie #switching between tabs to add all those links was ouch #jin grandet #chevalier michel #clavis lelouch #leon dompteur #yves kloss #licht klein #nokto klein #luke randolph

[luvrl0sers]

Hey boo! My birthday was 2 days ago! 🎉🍰 I'm officially 27.

How is my request coming along? I'm just curious, not rushing you. ❤️ Hope you're having a great day. Be safe out there!!

Hi baby! i’ve been off tumblr for a few months now but i’m coming back! HAPPY LATE LATE BIRTHDAY 🩷🩷

i had sooooo much happening in my life i got my drivers license, i turned 21, i’ve been trying to get more work for myself, my first niece was born🥹

things are calming down for me so I’ll definitely be on here some more i missed u🫶🏻 i’ll get working on your request soon sorry for not responding sooner 🥺🩷

[sosa-royals]

Omg Sosa baby~ I always forget that there is a huge time difference between us. Forgive me for being late, but happy birthday my darling! 🥳🎉🎊🎈🎁

As with everyday, I hope that your day was lovely and filled with good times, good food, good people, and a happy heart!

Usually, I'd have a Lumi AU set up for you, but how about a sneak peak of the venue for their upcoming wedding? 😎Soon we won't have to rely on AUs for their married life!

I love you baby girl~ Honestly, you're spoiling me with your storylines!!! The people that I share an elevator with at work must be wondering what drama recap I'm always reading because it is too good! Literally, give me some of that talent right there! 😭You have been and continue to be such a blessing during my time here on simblr and I just love seeing your url around~ Speak to you soon! 💛💛💛

Gogo!!!

Honestly I’ve had this in my asks inbox for weeks now because it’s such a beautiful message that means so much to me

Like y’all do even know how much Gogo means to me! She was literally my first friend on tumblr 😭

It always takes me a long time to respond to messages like this because I like going into my inbox and rereading them over and over again which is why I’m only replying to this now

But thank you so much Gogo for making my birthday special this year just like you do every year! 😭🥰😍❤️

AND IM SO EXCITED FOR THE LUMAI WEDDING!!!🎉🎉❤️❤️

#😭 #i love this so much #GoGo #asks #my lovely Gogo!! #I dont have the words! #And check out Gogo’s story!! #it’s amazing!

[jaeyxns]

HI CHESCA!!!!!!!!!!!!! i dont know what timezone you currently in rn but... it's just past midnight for me so; HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY!!!!! HAPPY CHESCA DAY 🎂💐🎉🎉🎉💕💕💕💕💕 HAPPY INTERNATIONAL KINDNESS DAY AS WELL !!!! *i'm making it an official holiday* I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOU !!!!!!!

jen !! the love of my life !!!! i really, truly love and adore you so much 💓💘💞💝💓💘💞💝💓💘💞💝💓💘💞💝💓💘💞💝💓💘💞💝💓💘💞💝💓💘💞💝 please ignore the fact i'm answering this like 4 days late ;;;;;;;;;;;

i keep reading your birthday letter over and over and i just 🤧❣️ and what do you mean dumbass words ?? the fact you took the time to share your feelings in words means so much to me 🥺

idk if i've ever told you but i'm in love with the concept of letters in general. so the fact i received a birthday letter, especially from you, is something i really treasure 🌻 please know that you're an absolute blessing to me and that i also love you so so so deeply 💌 the adoration is mutual as well 🥰

and i would love to share and tell you all about my favorite things one day !! 💞 though feel free to ask me anything and i promise i'll be an open book !! also you are and will always be a dear friend in my heart 💕

our purin x snoopy agenda is eternal and i wouldn't go anywhere after this life without you. my hand is always open for you to take so that way we'll always be together 🩷

p.s. i got chocolate cake but would like a do over cake since it wasn't something i was really craving for. also, i'm more of a tea girl but still love the idea of being in a cafe with you !! one day it'll happen and when it does i know it'll be a very happy day filled with lots of laughter.

i love you so so so so much i really can't say that enough. considering myself absolutely lucky our paths crossed and that we get to be in each other's lives like this. also i definitely cried once i got through your whole letter and the heejake pic at the end was such a perfect touch you know me so well tbh

representation of me reading your letter btw

#jen 🍜 #message♡ #once again i'm so sorry for only replying to this now :"( #my birthday week has been something but i'm here and i'm trying to be okay ! #thank /you/ for being you 💓 #i don't have the words to properly express what i want to say either #but you always light up my life in so many ways #thank you for always keeping my heart warm #and thank you for being the hee to my jake #sending you a million hugs and kisses 💘💓💞

[gillianthecat]

War of Y: War of Managers - final episode (ep 10 overall)

In which I am bored and confused and talking about nonsense (and Gaga's functionality). And then all of a sudden really fucking pissed (but still confused)

~ We see inside the mystery box (which I forgot all about,lol, so I appreciate the flashbacks). It contains... 🥁 Picture of P Atichon!!! I guess Bew had an obsession? And/or a crush? And what is Bew's dream that hasn't come true yet? 🤔

~ I do like the title sequence music. It reminds me of tv shows themes from the late 90s USA (like Buffy) for some reason, maybe the electric guitars?

~ Yes, Kang, your dress is very pretty. But wait, what is he paying them off for? (Or just paying I suppose, but it's more likely to be something underhanded.) 2 million baht is about $52,000 USD. (Why am I doing any research for this show? Who knows.)

~ Oh and hey! This is not the Death Stairs House! (I assume, I gather it has a lot of rooms but this looks like a different style.) Diversity Win! 🎉

~ Bew's hiding behind columns and eavesdropping again. I should have known something was fishy with him earlier based on that habit.

~ I guess if they took the money Gus and Bew would have said nicer things? Oh wait, Pla did take the money. I'm just confused. I may or may not be less confused about this in 55 minutes.

~ I think this was a positive message about being gay? But the translation was weird so I'm not sure what they were actually saying.

~ Yay fitting some marriage equality campaigning into your BL! Good work, Cheewin!

~ Bew and the tv host (Sprite!) are buds? I guess they've both been in the industry a long time.

~ Bew looks so happy about this surprise birthday. If I wasn't suspicious of him I wouldn't be suspicious.

~ I do appreciate the lack of yelling so far. I assume it will resume at some point, but it's been relaxing.

~ I can't decide if I want Bew to be in love with Gus or for it to all be an elaborate revenge plot.

~ Why are Pla and Toon in Gus and Bew's house? Whose house is to anyways? I continue to be very confused about locations on this show.

~ So the not signing a contract was Bew's idea? Toon wanted it? Are they trying to redeem her here or... ? Cause even if he didn't want to, she's the professional, she should know better.

~ The thing with Cheewin's group scenes is that you can so often see the actors hitting their marks. Like, walk -> arrive -> lines. It makes it look very amateurish. I like the dark green velvet though.

~ This dressing room convo feels sweet.

~ Oh. Here comes drama!

~ Yo's smirk as he lounges in the chair! He may be my favorite character. He's mysterious enough to be interesting. (As opposed to Bew, who is also mysterious, but confusing about it.)

~ Bew turning to the ol' panic attack trick. I mean, I believe he's faking, but your logic doesn't make sense, Toon. Seems perfectly reasonable that a person with panic attacks would also search for the symptoms 🤷🏻‍♀️

~ Was Gus suspicious before this? Why is he so quick to believe (known liars) Pla and Toon?

~ That's a very quick jump to confessing, Bew. I guess we do have to wrap this all up (lol, as if there's going to be any sort of meaningful conclusion) in 30 minutes.

~ I was going to write out all the twists and turns of who did what. But then I realized that I don't care that much.

~ Aww 🙁 poor Nott. Only 10% of the vote and his name doesn't even get in the headlines. I would vote for you, Nott 🗳

~ I was going to say Yo gets less interesting the more I learn about him, bu then he said he has a baby?!

~ Oh. Yo was talking to Bew that night. Tricksy editing and camera angles, ya fooled me.

~ If I could manage to embrace this as a soap opera I would probably like it more. Unfortunately I rarely watch soap operas.

~ What?! The back arrow button is working to skip backward?!!!! This is amazing!!! Thank you Gaga!!!! Did you read my complaint on Tumblr yesterday and rush to implement a fix because you love me that much. Aww, you're so sweet to me ☺️

~ Wait. Now it's not working ☹️ I DON'T KNOW WHAT I DID DIFFERENT AHH! I literally just paused and then pressed play again, I didn't even minimize the full screen.

~ Oh yes, I paused because I wanted a screenshot of Kang, who continues to look fabulous at al times.

~ This would probably be slightly better and possible make a smidge more sense if the subtitles had better translations. I think I have the gist of what's going on, but it's possible I missed a turn or too in the plot twists.

~ AHHHH. SKIPPING IS WORKING AGAIN! I THINK I FIGURED IT OUT YOU HAVE TO KEEP THE CURSOR ON THE LITTLE CIRCLE. It only skips like a second or two but that's better than nothing I think.

~ Oh wait. Now it's skipping back WITHOUT the curser in the little circle. And for more seconds at a time. I give up. 🤦🏻‍♀️ Gaga makes almost as little sense as this show.

~ I don't understand what this show wants me to be thinking or feeling here as Pla and Toon confront Bew. Am I supposed to agree with them? Feel sorry for him? Everyone is in the wrong, but I feel like I'm expected to sympathize with somebody, I just really can't tell who.

~ Caught by your own trick, Bew! Lol. (Also if they're clever they'll have also recorded his big supervillain confession speech.)

~ And they were! Even better, Toon was recording a Live, lol.

~ Oh but she wasn't broadcasting? (Also Gaga won't let me skip now 🤷🏻‍♀️)

~ Toon. Darling. Bitch. Sweetheart. You're just as bad as him. He sent Gus to jail, you almost killed him with a shrimp brownie. Are we supposed to believe that you believe you have the moral high ground here?

~ Ah, Bew baby. I'm actually feeling sad for you right now. I too want you to get this award, this emblem of all your ambitions, this reason for the scheming.

~ I'm getting a little teary eyed about this speech and everyone's faces. With this sad music 😢

~ Ok. I am really fucking pissed about how this is ending. Somehow all that nonsense and melodrama where everyone behaved terrible, all of that gets tied up as Bew Learns A Lesson About Ambition. What. The. Fuck. (I guess it could slightly redeem at the very end but I don't see how.

~ So he's supposed to be "forgiven" by Toon and they bond again? And why is this airport reconnection with Gus in front of all these fans? What the fuck is going on?

~ Gus literally says "you got your lesson." But what about everyone else???!!!! Where are their lessons??!!! Cheewin you've spent the whole preceding four and a half hours showing us everyone's bad behavior and now it's completely forgotten because... ? I don't even know why. It is the oddest storytelling choice in an ocean of odd choices.

~ WHY ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT THIS IN FRONT OF THE FAN CLUB????!!!!! And the fans are recording this very personal and probably damaging conversation. What. The. Fuck.

~ And then Gus pats his head, the fans all smile, and Bew walks off surrounded by supportive messages from his fans saying they miss him. Ok. I have no idea what Cheewin is trying to say here.

--

Well. I have no idea what this show was trying to do. But as far as I can tell there were no levels that it worked on. I mean, I assume it's going for melodrama and plot twists. But I feel like for that to work, there has to be some sort of still point amidst the chaos. Some sort of anchor for the audience to connect to. Because the melodrama doesn't mean anything to me if I don't care about any of the characters. The don't have to be a good person, but I think I do have to understand them at least a little more. And I'm sure it's possible to write it so that the anchor point sympathy character can also be revealed to be the manipulator but, uh... this show did not manage it.

I think I would have loved a story of an ambitious actor who went too far in his struggle for the top. But somehow that's not what this felt like. Too much focus on Toon and Pla maybe? I feel like we needed to see more of Bew somehow for this to have worked, even if it still kept his scheming a secret. This I guess is the same criticism I had at the beginning, that all the screen time and dramatics were taken up by people the emotional arc wasn't about.

I think Bew and his ambition were the emotional core of the series. Because that's the only time I felt emotion - when Bew was shown wanting things - acting skill, Gus, the award. But so little time was spent on that. It was the first 30 minutes and the last 30 minutes. But it needed to also be in the middle.

I don't know, maybe I'm wrong. I have no idea what to change. The plot twists felt arbitrary and tedious. If Cheewin has a message about the industry of got lost in the mess. And that fucking ending had no connection to all those ridiculous fucking plot twists.

Like it felt like the end was supposed to be Bew Learns A Lesson. But that didn't fit with anything that came before.

Anyway. I'm mad. If you have any insights into this show I'd welcome them. I could spend time trying to analyze what went wrong. But I don't think it's worth it. The show just fucking sucked. Cheewin was not only trying to have his cake and eat it too, but also sell it and auction it off at the same time. It didn't work.

Not gonna keep watching the next sections. I've lost all trust in Cheewin. What little trust I had.

#war of y: war of managers #war of y ep 10 #war of y #war of y the series #kind of like liveblogging #gillianthecat reacts to bl #reaction by gillianthecat #nonsense #and then ranting

[morioh-killer]

Requesting jotaro and/or kakyoin (your pick but separately pls❤️) and the reader on their bday! Can be nsfw too ;) in celebration of my bday today! 🎉

First off, happy birthday even though I'm late. I hope it treated you with kindness and success my dear friend. NSFW is sectioned off for both characters <3

POV: Spending your Birthday With Jotaro\Kakyoin. I did both because you're worth it.

❥ [TEXT] Hey, it's Jotaro. Just wanted to let you know I didn't forget your b-day and I'm coming to visit. See ya soon

❥ [YOUR TEXT] Hey! I'll see you in a bit, I've missed u!

❥ It'd been a few weeks since you'd seen Jotaro, he spent weeks gone on experimental trips, writing papers, documents, and more scientific jargon. He was happy to explain it to you with a seeming never ending patience in his voice. In his maturity he seemed to appreciate the slower moving things.

❥ He let himself in your door, using Star Platinum to open the lock from the inside. You'd grown used to this, in fact you found it endearing. You were still getting ready, but he didn't mind the wait. You sat in front of a vanity, eyeing him in the reflection. You could see him pulling out a small box from his deep coat pocket. "It isn't much, but it made me think of you. Jotaro much preferred small gifts as they felt closer to the heart. You opened the small box and inside laid a thin gold necklace with a dolphin pendant. Jotaro chained the necklace in the back, running his index finger up and down your neck. "Why don't we stay in tonight?" he proposed, leaning down to plant a kiss on your ear.

-nsfw-

Before you knew it, Jotaro had your wrists pinned above your head. You let out a small gasp, meeting his lustful gaze before his lips dove into your neck. He placed a kiss right where your neck connects to your chest, his teeth brushing against the tender skin. He felt your wrists twist under his grip but he didn't let up. "You'll be good for me, right?" He whispered into your ear, running his tongue over the edge of your ear. All you could feel is the warmth of his mouth and the ever-growing beat in your chest. You nodded.

"Good," he whispered. He could feel an ache in his midsection, the butterflies in his stomach flapped their wings rapidly. You invoked such a desire in the man, and only you could curb his hunger.

"I'm going to fuck you," he muttered, slipping your bottoms down to your ankles, your underwear soon to follow. "But I'm going to make you know just how much I love you, how much I've missed you." Jotaro wasn't one for words, yet actions. Placed his lips on yours, his teeth brushing against your lips. You kissed him back hard, twisting your hands in his sea of jet black hair. He exhaled into your mouth like a man-starved for air, so desperate to have you around him in every way. Your arms wrapped around him in a tender hug, your legs wrapped around his waist, your mind intertwined with his...

His lips ran down your neck, the slight scruff of facial hair tickling your skin. You let out a quiet laugh but were quickly cut off by feeling his lips trail down your chest, stomach, and down to your sex. Stunned, all your body could do was freeze up. "Jotaro-" you whimpered out, feeling his mouth and tongue move in ways you didn't think were ever possible. His nails dug into your skin and as they ran down, they left fine lines in your skin. It was almost too much to bare, the warmth and wetness of his mouth driving you crazy. Your legs felt more like jelly than flesh and bone. "God, I fucking... I fucking love you!" You cried out, feeling your orgasm wash over you. "I fucking love you," you repeated again, catching your breath. "I love you too, baby. So much."

❥ Kakyoin spent far too long actually planning for your birthday. He wanted it to be a perfect day, something to match the perfect vision in his head. A cake big enough for two, the perfect number of candles, but not too many to make it difficult to blow out. The perfect gift, the perfect everything. Kakyoin's vision needed to be just right.

❥ He spent all morning preparing it. He was quiet enough not to disturb you, mixing by hand without the blaring sound of a mixer. A delectable cherry cake made with the finest maraschino cherries he could buy. Pink tinted icing so perfectly spread across a 3-layer cake. His piping skills were better than you imagined. He was a perfectionist to the core and it showed in his appreciation for you.

❥ He knew you'd be coming downstairs in a matter of moments and he waited patiently for your arrival. And when you did, you were met with a beautiful kitchen table spread: A cake, 2 candles on both seats of the table, and vibrant red birthday balloons. "Oh, Kakyoin! Did you really go through all this trouble for me?"

❥ "It's no trouble at all, I... Truth be told, I've been waiting so long for this day. The moment you told me your birthday I've been planning this." You placed your hand on his chest, only for him to grab it and place a kiss on the back of it. "Really, you did an amazing job. I'm so touched. You went through all this for me." Kakyoin smiled gently. "And I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

-nsfw-

Kakyoin had more than one way of showing his love to you. Having you hoisted up on the kitchen counter was one way. "We should really take this somewhere more... discreet," you whispered between his kisses. "Oh, hush, my hierophant can just.... close the blinds," he chuckled. "Besides, I can't wait, I need you now, here... and now." He wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close to him as humanly possible.

He unbuttoned his pants and slid them down to his ankles before kicking them off into the corner. "But first, I want to taste my other desert." Those eyes. Those fucking eyes. You couldn't get enough of them as he went down on you, his gaze was enough to make your knees weak. "Look at you, ready all for me..." he teased his mouth, his lips, and maybe something else you couldn't quite identify.... "I want to make sure you're all ready..."

You had your legs wrapped about his hips as he slowly thrusted into you. The couch was far easier than a counter....

"God, you feel so good around me." You relished in his cock, feeling every inch of him slide against you. "I wanted... everything to be perfect," he whispered against your lips. "Perfect, you're perfect."

#jotaro #kakyoin #jjba #happy birthday sweetie !! <33 #Please enjoy !!

[abysscronica]

im preparing for kid birthday lol, i got no life .

happy late new year btw. i hope you enjoy your holiday .

Happy New Year! 🥂🎉 Right back at you.

Oh shit, Kid's birthday is tomorrow!!! My baby boy, celebrate for me too because I just started my new position and I'm submerged in work. 😭